- Thursday -
Thursdays are long-run-day. The training calendar said 15 but I wasn't sure I had the juice for that. In my mind, I set 13 as the goal figuring I'd compromise for 11 or 12. Turns out, the temperature was slightly cooler and I found a way to push through to make that 13-mile mark.
I don't run with a headset or iPod so it gives me plenty of time to think. Miles 1-8 usually consists of various song lyrics going through my head or making mental notes for things I need to do at work or home. Miles 9-?? are typically about focus - form, stride, arms, speed and fluids. It's these miles I also marvel at how powerful the mind really is. Even though I feel like I can't go on, my mind says I must. So I do. Mind over matter really does matter.
- Friday -
- Saturday -
Long bike ride is normally scheduled for Sunday but even this guy has to prioritize a little fun over training. Poker night with the guys is tonight and there is usually beer involved so the long Sunday ride becomes the long Saturday ride.
Looking back, perhaps I should have kept the Sunday ride. I had this weird feeling last night that something was going to go wrong but what do I know? I'm not psychic.
Or am I?
Up to mile 40, the ride was fantastic. Then, pop! I ran over some sort of metal piece in the middle of the road that literally sliced the side of my tire open along with the tube (Exhibit A)
|Exhibit A - The patch held for about 20 miles.|
After panicking a bit (seeing it was 6:30 am) and knowing that no one in their right mind would be carrying a spare tire, I figured I was FUBAR. Tubes I carry. Tires I do not. I texted a few friends to see who would be able to cart my sorry ass home first but no luck. Either no on wanted that responsibility or they weren't up yet.
After many generous offers of aid from fellow roadies, I started digging around in my under-seat pack for inspiration or anything else that might carry me the remaining 20 miles home. As luck would have it, I had forgotten about the patch kit that has been in my bag since 'NAM...after 15 minutes of wrestling with the tire, I managed to replace the tube and pump it up to at least support my weight.
Gingerly, I peddled my way home. I stopped every couple miles to check on the patch. I swear the patch seemed to be popping out a little more each stop. But it held. What was meant to be a 75-mile ride was cut down to 60. Still a respectable ride but not what I had planned.