I ran 1 hr 45 min on Sunday and I took Monday off. I planned on working out Monday, but my knees made a decision for the rest of me. I need more ice.
I swam Tuesday morning, went to spin Tuesday night and I ran 65 minutes today. So. So. So. Why am I up 4 pounds this month? I am working out 10-14 times per week, I am doing a ton. I eat veg and meat. I don't get it.
That's a lie. I know why, I am eating more calories than I am burning, but still, it sucks big time. I need to cut out the milk. I am down to bare minimum carbs as it is, maybe if I stop drinking the non-fat milk I can drop the fat. Or the 80 calorie costco healthy choice fudge bar. Or the wine.
My cardio guy (I had one 85 pounds ago) said that a glass of red wine is good for the pump. That is each and every day, I get a glass of wine. One glass. One.
It's a big glass.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Training On The Road
The training calendar is all powerful. If it says run 30 minutes, I run 30 minutes. Always. Except when I am travelling. I was in North Carolina last week, my training went to hell. I tried to run on the treadmill at the hotel, I was able run for 40 minutes, then I almost died of boredom. I tried to lift weights, that worked ok, but my training plan is limited in lifting. And, I just did't want to lift so I drank a lot and complained about the lack of proper training facilities.
I got back from my trip on Friday afternoon, I swam Friday afternoon, went to spin Saturday and ran Sunday.
Tomorrow is a day off, so I am going to lift lightly and stretch. Fun stuff.
I got back from my trip on Friday afternoon, I swam Friday afternoon, went to spin Saturday and ran Sunday.
Tomorrow is a day off, so I am going to lift lightly and stretch. Fun stuff.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Tenderize Your Shoulders
I read Joe Freil's book, Going Long. He talks about how to prepare for an Ironman. Apparently, I was suppose to be doing weight training and core workouts. Honestly, I am getting beat up by doing a regular workout running spinning swimming, so how in world does he expect me to do weights too. I was tired when I got in the car to drive to the gym.
Last night, Duane and I did 30 minutes of light arm weights and some core work, then we walked next door and had a glass of wine at The Grape Adventure. I thought no big deal, it was an easy workout, I will be fine.
This morning, Jim and Duane and I swam at 6. I wanted to throw up. I was not in a good place. We did 75 yard sprints. We did 20ish 75s, then a 500. I was thinking that lifting weights was stupid and nobody should do it. But maybe I need to rethink that. Maybe I should give up swimming.
Last night, Duane and I did 30 minutes of light arm weights and some core work, then we walked next door and had a glass of wine at The Grape Adventure. I thought no big deal, it was an easy workout, I will be fine.
This morning, Jim and Duane and I swam at 6. I wanted to throw up. I was not in a good place. We did 75 yard sprints. We did 20ish 75s, then a 500. I was thinking that lifting weights was stupid and nobody should do it. But maybe I need to rethink that. Maybe I should give up swimming.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Swimming With the Old Ladies
After yesterday's run, we were looking for some low impact work, so Jim and I go to 24 hour fitness to swim at lunch today, it seemed like a good idea. It was, in that we got to swim for a bit, but it wasn't in that we had to leave early.
There is some sort of demographically bizarre black hole going on at the lunch hour at 24 hour. I think it can make you disappear forever. It is like there is an in-door, but no out-door, a human sucking bottomless pit, a one-way tunnel through space ending at the edge of the universe. You get the idea.
Lunchtime at 24 hour is the place where the eventual effects of Darwin's Beagle are realized, only in reverse. The laws of Natural Selection at 24 hour operate as though reflected in a mirror, left is right, right is left, the middle will not hold.
All of the healthy, under seventy folks have been naturally selected away, leaving the over seventy ladies with saggy arm skin to fill up both the gene pool and the swimming pool with their presence. Honestly, there is nobody there that isn't on six prescription meds to keep their ticker ticking. It's scary. Does everybody turn orange at seventy?
How slowly can you swim? It's like they are doing that slow motion karate thing that some people do in parks on Sunday mornings, only in the pool. One lady got half way to the other end of the pool, but had to come back because her rent is due on Tuesday.
So we swam for thirty minutes and got the hell out of there.
There is some sort of demographically bizarre black hole going on at the lunch hour at 24 hour. I think it can make you disappear forever. It is like there is an in-door, but no out-door, a human sucking bottomless pit, a one-way tunnel through space ending at the edge of the universe. You get the idea.
Lunchtime at 24 hour is the place where the eventual effects of Darwin's Beagle are realized, only in reverse. The laws of Natural Selection at 24 hour operate as though reflected in a mirror, left is right, right is left, the middle will not hold.
All of the healthy, under seventy folks have been naturally selected away, leaving the over seventy ladies with saggy arm skin to fill up both the gene pool and the swimming pool with their presence. Honestly, there is nobody there that isn't on six prescription meds to keep their ticker ticking. It's scary. Does everybody turn orange at seventy?
How slowly can you swim? It's like they are doing that slow motion karate thing that some people do in parks on Sunday mornings, only in the pool. One lady got half way to the other end of the pool, but had to come back because her rent is due on Tuesday.
So we swam for thirty minutes and got the hell out of there.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Grease Your Feet
Duane told me to grease my feet with Bag Balm on long runs. I do, and I don't have blisters, so maybe its a good idea. Maybe, maybe not, I don't have a double blind scientific study going here. It just seems sort of logical.
I ran a PR today, 10.04 miles, 1 hour, 44 minutes. I know that is slow, compared to everyone that owns running shoes, but I don't care, its a PR for me so there you go.
I got home, powered down 12 ounces of water, then 12 ounces of choco milk, two handfuls of cashews, took a shower then ate a full plate of chicken meatloaf and about three cups of broccoli with some cheesesauce. I asked Patty if the cheese sauce was fatty or diety. She said it is sort of in the middle. I don't care that much, since I think I burned maybe 20 thousand calories on my run. I think I need a quart of ice cream to balance the day out.
By the by, I went to a benefit dinner last friday, bought some wine in the blind purchase thing. You throw twenty in, they give you a bottle of wine with a bag over it so you can't tell if it is cheap wine or expensive. Rumor has it that all the wine was 20 bucks or more, so you can't lose. I bought 3 bottles, one of them turned out to retail at 165. So, the plan is to take that bottle to IM Coeur d'Alene, open it and give everybody a glass. There will be 15 folks there so it will be small glasses. Or maybe I will drink it tonight if I don't start feeling better. My knees are barking.
I ran a PR today, 10.04 miles, 1 hour, 44 minutes. I know that is slow, compared to everyone that owns running shoes, but I don't care, its a PR for me so there you go.
I got home, powered down 12 ounces of water, then 12 ounces of choco milk, two handfuls of cashews, took a shower then ate a full plate of chicken meatloaf and about three cups of broccoli with some cheesesauce. I asked Patty if the cheese sauce was fatty or diety. She said it is sort of in the middle. I don't care that much, since I think I burned maybe 20 thousand calories on my run. I think I need a quart of ice cream to balance the day out.
By the by, I went to a benefit dinner last friday, bought some wine in the blind purchase thing. You throw twenty in, they give you a bottle of wine with a bag over it so you can't tell if it is cheap wine or expensive. Rumor has it that all the wine was 20 bucks or more, so you can't lose. I bought 3 bottles, one of them turned out to retail at 165. So, the plan is to take that bottle to IM Coeur d'Alene, open it and give everybody a glass. There will be 15 folks there so it will be small glasses. Or maybe I will drink it tonight if I don't start feeling better. My knees are barking.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Spin Class Blows
I am told that you need to be in pretty good bike shape to complete an Ironman. You need to put in the hours. OK, so I live in the Seattle metro area and in case you didn't know, it rains a lot here in the almost great Pacific Northwest. When it rains, the roads get slippery and bikers fall like leaves. I don't like to hit the pavement on a bike. I have done it, it hurts, it's dangerous and honestly, I just don't like it. I do not like it, Sam I am.
So to get the hours in, I ride a lot in spin class. Spin class is basically a hot room with smelly people riding stationary bikes, sweating on the floor. I sweat and sometimes I drool a little. I always give a little more than the other guys. I give extra drool. Usually, in a long sticky drool string hanging out my mouth.
One problem in spin class is attention span. It wanders. When you ride a real bike, on a warm sunny day with friends, it can be a fun thing. The scenery changes, you have to pay attention to other riders and dogs and cars, you can stop on the ride and eat donuts or get a coffee. There is a lot going on.
When you are in spin class, its just hot and smelly. You just suffer and your attention span shrinks to the size of a pea. The fun is left at the door. I can't wait for it to warm up so I can go outside and ride.
I iced both knees in anticipation of my run tomorrow. Looking forward to that. I drool when I run too.
So to get the hours in, I ride a lot in spin class. Spin class is basically a hot room with smelly people riding stationary bikes, sweating on the floor. I sweat and sometimes I drool a little. I always give a little more than the other guys. I give extra drool. Usually, in a long sticky drool string hanging out my mouth.
One problem in spin class is attention span. It wanders. When you ride a real bike, on a warm sunny day with friends, it can be a fun thing. The scenery changes, you have to pay attention to other riders and dogs and cars, you can stop on the ride and eat donuts or get a coffee. There is a lot going on.
When you are in spin class, its just hot and smelly. You just suffer and your attention span shrinks to the size of a pea. The fun is left at the door. I can't wait for it to warm up so I can go outside and ride.
I iced both knees in anticipation of my run tomorrow. Looking forward to that. I drool when I run too.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
I was Running and Running, Then I Got Tired
Last night, due to bad karma and pre-IM worry, I couldn't fall asleep until about two. That is two in the AM. I had just enough time to start a dream where I was both good looking and a gifted triathlete, then the alarm yacks up a headbanger noise to ruin the best part of my day. I hit the snooze to try to recapture the dream. I swung and miss. I'm up, sort of. The pets are up.
I am walking down the hall in the dark, I left the hall light off so it doesn't shine in the bedroom and wake Patty. As I walk down the hall, the stinking pets attack. They cross in front of me, back and forth, back and forth. They are doing a synchronized serpentine thing, trying to trip me up. They are kind of mean about it. If you don't feed them, they keep running between my feet, trying to trip me and make me fall. I'm late.
John is in the driveway to pour me into the front seat, we swing by and pick up Jim and are at the pool at 5:25. In the morning. That is the AM.
The RTB regulars are there, making me look bad. They swim well. I practice breathing underwater. Breath in water, cough it out, gag, breath more water in, feel some stomach bile coming up, fight off the barf instinct, breath in more water, choke, swallow the stomach acid and keep moving.
10 sets of 200 yard sprints, half with hand paddles, half without. My shoulders scream in pain. I like to swim. Sure. If you bleed in the pool, do they ask you to leave? I check for blood in the water, hoping to get ejected. No luck. Maybe I have a canker or a pustule that needs attention. I start to check my arms and legs and Jim says '25 yard sprints, on the thirty, three, two one, go' I launch and flail down the pool. A little barf comes up my throat, into my nose, 'three, two one, go'. I balk. Jim takes off, I follow. I make four sprints then get out of the pool. Screw it. John and Jim keep going. I am such a loser.
We planned on swimming then running. I mention that we might be better off going to Starbucks after the swim. Recovery is important too. Jim agrees. John is driving, so we skip Starbucks and John parks at the trailhead. John takes off, runs 4 miles. Jim and I slow down to some super slow pace, we do 3 miles.
I get home, eat eggs mixed with egg whites for breakfast, roast beef sandwich with one slice of bread for lunch, peanut butter for a snack and Pappa Johns thin crust pizza for dinner, total 1969 calories. And wine, which my doctor said I should have for my heart, so I don't count that. I need a skinny cow or two.
I am walking down the hall in the dark, I left the hall light off so it doesn't shine in the bedroom and wake Patty. As I walk down the hall, the stinking pets attack. They cross in front of me, back and forth, back and forth. They are doing a synchronized serpentine thing, trying to trip me up. They are kind of mean about it. If you don't feed them, they keep running between my feet, trying to trip me and make me fall. I'm late.
John is in the driveway to pour me into the front seat, we swing by and pick up Jim and are at the pool at 5:25. In the morning. That is the AM.
The RTB regulars are there, making me look bad. They swim well. I practice breathing underwater. Breath in water, cough it out, gag, breath more water in, feel some stomach bile coming up, fight off the barf instinct, breath in more water, choke, swallow the stomach acid and keep moving.
10 sets of 200 yard sprints, half with hand paddles, half without. My shoulders scream in pain. I like to swim. Sure. If you bleed in the pool, do they ask you to leave? I check for blood in the water, hoping to get ejected. No luck. Maybe I have a canker or a pustule that needs attention. I start to check my arms and legs and Jim says '25 yard sprints, on the thirty, three, two one, go' I launch and flail down the pool. A little barf comes up my throat, into my nose, 'three, two one, go'. I balk. Jim takes off, I follow. I make four sprints then get out of the pool. Screw it. John and Jim keep going. I am such a loser.
We planned on swimming then running. I mention that we might be better off going to Starbucks after the swim. Recovery is important too. Jim agrees. John is driving, so we skip Starbucks and John parks at the trailhead. John takes off, runs 4 miles. Jim and I slow down to some super slow pace, we do 3 miles.
I get home, eat eggs mixed with egg whites for breakfast, roast beef sandwich with one slice of bread for lunch, peanut butter for a snack and Pappa Johns thin crust pizza for dinner, total 1969 calories. And wine, which my doctor said I should have for my heart, so I don't count that. I need a skinny cow or two.
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