run this amazing day

So, it's been a month since ironman. I rolled neatly from the finish line into my off-season, and I'm sure it looks quite like the off-season of everyone else.  For two weeks I did nothing.  Nada.  I didn't even take the dogs on a walk.  I worked, I slept, I put things in my mouth, I read some books, and that was about it.  I didn't get near the scale or the pool or the running shoes, I ignored vegetables and tried some of that cookie butter people have been raving about (my life remains unchanged but I have discovered the level of sugar I need to ingest if I would like my kneecaps to vibrate).  For the first two weeks, all of that was enough, and that's how I know that I was fully cooked by my year: satisfied, tired, uninterested in all things swim/bike/run/lift, no itches to go out and run a few miles or join the poet at masters, no internet FOMO disease.  I wanted to sit around and watch my bruises heal, let my mind and body simply exhale.   The first pair

At the beginning of this year, I didn't know what I wanted out of racing, but I knew I wanted it to be different.  I was weary of feeling so serious and anxious all the time, judging my own performance day in and day out.  So I started 2013 looking for change. In January I hopped in the water for a swim meet and then did a ten mile race as a MAF test later in the month with friends.  The lesson in January is that your fitness actually doesn't stick around if you take two months off to eat and drink and be stressed out and get pneumonia and pack up all your shit and move 2000 miles away.  Noted. In February, I went to Austin with friends to race a half marathon .  I PRd by a handful of minutes, but I learned that if I go into the day with a plan and a quiet mind, I will race well and feel satisfied at the finish line. I ran a 5K a few weeks later that was hilariously short , but again brought the quiet mathematical mind to the run.   April brought a new twist, a ha

I've done this post every year, and I'm sure that I enjoy putting it together more than anyone enjoys reading it.   January We start our lives in Colorado. February The long stream of visitors happily begins. March Yasi comes to visit and we spend all weekend on the trainer thanks to a huge dump of snow. April I fall back in love with skiing after being away from it for a decade. May I spend an amazing weekend in California with Anabel, riding my ass off and eating everything I can. June More wonderful visitors. July We move into our new house. August Ironman recovery with a visit and a lot of beer. September Gait analysis and back to training. October We visit Chicago so the poet can run a marathon. November I get to run with my girls. December We travel to Mexico and I kick off my off-season with a bang (or a crunch). Putting this together is always so much fun because of the

Never give up, for that is just the place and time the tide will turn. - Harriet Stowe I read this quote on another blog a few days before the race.  It's a favorite of mine right now, for obvious reasons.   When I got hit, on the bike, all my initial thoughts were negative.   You're such an idiot, who gets in a crash when you aren't even riding, you hate drama and now there's going to be drama.  Maybe I just won't even tell anyone that I crashed, maybe I'll just call it an off day and never talk about what happened, maybe I can get through the run without anyone knowing or noticing.   That's how I felt, what was going on mentally, for the rest of the bike.  I felt like an idiot.  I wanted a calm, no-drama day, and now no matter what happened, there was no chance of that race coming true. I started to run.  The up-and-down motion of running was jarring my upper arm flab, and that was pretty darn painful.  Every step felt like my arm was being slammed