No rest for the weary!

Strangely, the highlights of this week’s workouts are the book-ends.  After a fantastic high at Sunday’s half Marathon – Matt asked Jim and me to ride out (easy) to Maricopa and back on Monday, late morning – since we all had the day off.  I admittedly texted Matt early on Monday to let him know that I was pretty sore from my race and if he wanted to “get after it”, I would bail and let him simply ride with Jim.  He wasn’t having it and told me we would all stick together – at whatever pace my legs could muster.

So, at 10am – the three of us hit the road for a 35 mile ride out and back.  Honestly, we could not have asked for more perfect weather.  It was SUCH a change from the sub-freezing temps on the century ride a mere 8 days prior.  And, of course, we ALL commented several times as we headed out about how fortunate we were.

The ride out to Maricopa was awesome.  We agreed to take 1 mile pulls off the front the whole way out and – while I think I may have been the only one who seriously stuck to that plan – the ride was easy and a lot of fun.  It almost seemed too good to be true, as we hit 21-22 mph the entire way out.

The half-way point came and we took a rest at a local Circle K so Matt and Jim could take care of business.  And, as Matt came out and Jim went in – I asked, “so, do you suppose we’ll hit a decent amount of wind on the way back, since the way out was such a piece of cake?”  Matt nodded, “yep – that’s exactly what I was thinking!”

Sure enough, we hit the road to head back and were faced with some fairly decent winds – sometimes only relieved by a passing semi or a large line of oversized vehicles.  However, I was still feeling really good and I knew I could push out 3 minutes at any pace (the approx. time on the front when doing 1 mile pulls at 20 mph).   Matt took the lead first and kept us over 21 mph, even with the winds.  I tried to minimally keep us over 20 and we all took turns making it so!  Every so often, I would glance at my Garmin to see that we had maintained well over 20 mph, which was incredible motivation to keep it up there for the rest of the ride.

As we finished off 30 miles and turned into the reservation to head back to Ahwatukee, I could tell Matt really wanted that 20 mph AVS – so we kept it up, but only for a smidge longer.  We were all pretty tired from the 12 mile windy, return trip.  In an effort not to lose anyone, we backed off in the last few miles to enjoy the temps again and chat with each other.  However, I do admit, that in our last couple of miles, Matt and I got incredibly competitive and in a last ditch effort to kick the other one’s ass, we pulled away (FAST) from Jim and sprinted for about 2/3’s of a mile – speeds over 25 mph after some hard work coming back from Maricopa.  All we could do was laugh at each other as Matt screamed ahead of me.  We both didn’t last long, but it certainly was fun to give it one last “go”.

Jim bailed on stopping at the Park ‘n Ride where my car was parked, so he didn’t make it into the blog shot.  But he was there – so you’ll have to imagine an older dude with blondish-white hair who stands FAR taller than the two of us and has a couple more wrinkles.

I hit the Masters Swim class on Tuesday night and was beaten to a pulp by Amy – our drill instructor.  You never know what you’re going to get in her class and Tuesday was ALL about the upper body – almost NO kick-work at all.  I can’t even describe the kinds of drills she had us do, but suffice it to say, I was surprised I could raise my arms above my head when all was said and done.  The nice thing about some of these drills, though – I can REALLY see a difference in my 100 meter times, as a result.  Since starting Masters Swim, I have knocked nearly 20 seconds off – and over the course of a mile, that’s like 5 ½ minutes.  It really excites me for the upcoming Tri season!

Wednesday morning I got a text from Matt saying he hadn’t slept and wouldn’t be joining me for our planned 4.5 mile run.  In truth, I didn’t care.  My body ached from the ½ marathon, the 35 mile crazy ride and the hard swim the night before.  I had absolutely nothing in me and everything seemed to hurt.  It would have been irresponsible of me to have gone out alone – so I opted to reset my alarm, too, and grab an extra hour of sleep.

By Friday morning we were both feeling ourselves again and we hit Pecos Road for a 16-18 mile strong ride.  I don’t think anyone really understands how important it can be to have a work-out friend and I don’t want to EVER look a gift-horse in the mouth – so I am just going to say, I hope Matt is as grateful to have me willing to wake up at some un-godly hour as I am that he is (willing).  I gazed at Matt’s tail-light on his bike for the majority of the ride out Pecos Road, trying desperately to even up our wheels.  I refused to draft off him because I wanted to own it with no help, but I struggled.  It seemed every moment I got close to his tire, he’d up the ante and push even harder to stay in front.  At the half way point, Matt knew he’d gotten me pissy – not in an upset way, but in a venom-I’m-going-to-try-to-kick-your-ass-way on the way back.

Sadly, I never did – but I came damn close!  We were neck ‘n neck for most of the ride back and only briefly foiled by 3 runners about 30 seconds apart on Pecos Road.  It certainly botched our mojo and as we crested the hardest hill at Desert Foothills, we both backed off and laughed at the other.  We’d worked our asses off – both of us.  I never quite caught Matt, but I was right there, ready to make it happen.  Without the challenge, I don’t know that I would have been able to pull nearly 18.5 mph for the entire Pecos ride!

Strangely, I had a mid-work-morning run with my former running buddy, Lora, on Friday, as well.  I needed to design a route for an upcoming MCC/Mesa United Way 5K and Lora was willing to put on a pair of running shoes to keep me company.  It was really nice to spend a half hour chatting it up with Lora as we remembered what it was like pulling 18-20 mile long runs prior to the 2011 marathon.   The route is now marked and the weather was amazing at 10am – well worth the second workout!

I got up on Saturday morning and headed back to the gym for a newly-offered Saturday Masters Swim class.  As I got there I saw Spin-Steve getting into the pool for his work-out.  He’s had several dreadful falls/crashes on his bike in the last several months, so the pool was not in his work-out regimen for some time, so it was awesome to get into the pool with him prior to the start of my class.  He wasn’t there for the class, but only two of us showed up for the class anyway, so he simply stayed in the lane next to me while I pulled serious sprint drills for Mike, the Masters coach.  I felt like I had two coaches for a full hour in the pool.  What Mike wouldn’t catch in my form, Steve would.  “Calm down, Mer – you’re working too hard.  Focus on stretching, reaching and gliding,” Steve would remind me.

But ultimately, it was Mike’s comment toward the end of class that made my hard workout worth it, that morning.  “I love watching you swim, Meredith.  Even during the longer (300 meter) sprints, you keep your form consistent, like you could go on for miles, never breaking form.”  I have worked so damn hard on my form in the last 6 months (thanks, mostly to Steve) that it was literally music to my ears.  But, again, I could barely move after 1900 meters of straight timed sprint work.  OUCH!!!!

But I mentioned “book-ends” at the beginning of the blog, so it won’t surprise you to know that today was another great highlight of the work-out-week.

Yep, Matt made me rise for a 5am run (on a Sunday, no less).  We both have some of the longer runs in our Ragnar Relay (3+ weeks away) so we’re focusing on those distances.  This morning was the tough long hilly 7.5 Ahwatukee run – the one I try to get into a workout at least once a month.  The heavy rains in the valley this weekend made it, once again, impossible for me to hit the trails, so this is the next best route to keep ones elevation legs in check.

I KNEW Matt would push me – especially after I had done so well the weekend prior in the ½ marathon.  Matt needed a good long-ish run, too.  (Its also worth mentioning that a couple of months ago I was seen teary-eyed in his office at work because he was injured and wouldn’t be able to push me to go faster on my runs.  I am occasionally selfish and only think of myself when others are injured.  It’s a failed quality – I’m working on being more caring.)

As we climbed the toughest section in mile 5, Matt said, “You’re doing great, Mer.  Just over a 9 min mile, uphill.”  And as we crested the top of the hilly section, we both gave it everything ‘til the end.  Every remaining mile got faster and faster until Matt finally pulled away from me in the last ½ mile to really make me work for my breakfast.  I could see my pacing going down, down and down.  I couldn’t get near him, as he had me gasping for the finish line.  8:49 overall pace – even with the hills and long stretches up.  Another personal record for me.  Again – tears or not, having a work-out partner really makes me fight for it.

Click on it to see the negative splits he put me through in the last 3.5 miles.

It was 95% humidity (and a little drizzly) -- see the water beads on my head.  Super cool!

Shortly after my high wore off – I met Anne at the end of her 3.5 mile run.  We enjoyed a lovely breakfast at the Chandler Airport and then spent a couple hours with the kiddos.  We danced, we sang, and we played with dinosaurs!  

Anne at the end of her run!

Moments after she finished!

Sean insisted he be allowed to wear his dinosaur costume while lining up his animals.

Lyla, Anne and Me -- always something in Lyla's mouth!

PR, PR, and PR, Baby!

Oh my gosh – oh my gosh!

Ok, so I really wanted to spend some time detailing how I’d pushed out some great runs earlier this week and a nice ride with Matt.  And, then I wanted to go into detail about my AMAZING Masters Swim class on Thursday night – but seriously, those all take a backseat to this morning, so all I can do is show you a couple of pics and move on.  (smile)

Our Thursday morning ride - finally not sub-freezing temps!

Not my fave pic, but whatever -- I ran FAST: 8:37 pace for 4.7 miles!

Yesterday morning I woke up ready to meet the girls for a morning at the Expo.  I had a few beers the evening before with my good friends Mike and Hannah – so my head was swimming a little from the 10% Buckin Monk Tripple I had consumed (unknowingly 10%, mind you – when it came in a snifter, I became a smidge nervous, I’ll confess).   Regardless, I pulled myself together and hopped the lightrail with Loretta for an easy ride into the city to the Phx Convention Center.

There Loretta and I happened upon Josh and asked him to join the rest of us for our trip through the expo.  He was game for all of 20 minutes before he realized he was shopping with several serious ladies – and it was a little much for him.  We wished him well on his run and settled into the expo.

Josh and Loretta -- obligatory blog-shot!

Anne is silly -- see!  (Amy, Mer, Loretta, Josh and Anne's arm)

All I can say is – Anne and Amy can try on headbands for 30 minutes.  Really, need I say more?  (eye roll)  I love them to bits, but shopping is simply not my thing – well, not like its “their” thing.  Anne brought her mom (also a seasoned shopper) and the-beautiful-Lyla to the Expo, so at least I had my fill of adorable children while I tapped my foot at every stop we made.  (wink)

We're holding shitty wine - VERY shitty wine that I tossed out after this was taken.

Lyla - sooooo dang cute!

After the expo I went home to sulk.  I don’t know that I have ever been that nervous before a run – at least not in recent history.  I chewed off every morsel of skin on my right (and left) thumb and consumed myself with worry about not hitting the Sub-2 hour ½ marathon.  I knew I was capable, but sometimes the brain and body breakdown and give you the old “eff YOU” somewhere around mile 9 or 10.

But, I awakened this morning after a solid night’s sleep determined not to worry about it.  I had somehow convinced myself that I was just as capable as anyone else who has worked as hard as I had.

Kris picked me up at 6am and we landed at the starting line with plenty of time to hit the porta-potties a couple of times before heading into our corrals.  Anne and Amy joined us a bit later and then we dispersed to our respective corrals.

Kris and Me -- ready to run!

Anne and Me -- as the sun was starting to rise.

I had switched my starting corral from 9 to 5 the day prior so I would be with runners gunning for a sub-2 time.  Corral 9 had 2:05’ers and I wasn’t having it.  And, as I stood shivering in the corral ( ½  nerves, ½ 48 degree temps), I buddied up to a few really nice guys – one from Cleveland and another from Seattle.  We all wanted that sub-2 hour time and it was fun to talk about it.  I wish I remembered their bib #’s but I don’t – so I’ll never know.  Shortly before our corral began to inch forwardaI sweet, young girl-student from UofA chimed in and also talked about wanting the sub-2.  It was refreshing to know I was among those just as concerned and nervous as I about not hitting our mark.

But, as usual, as the horn sounded for our corral to cross the starting line, my new friends were never seen again.

The first few miles felt pretty easy.  Although, I looked at my watch after passing the Mile 1 marker and realized I went out of the gate a bit faster than I should have if I wanted to try to keep a steady pace (8:36 mile), so I slowed it down a lot for miles 2 and 3.  Shortly after passing the Mile 3 marker, a beautiful woman – maybe a few years younger than me, tapped me on the shoulder to ask what my pace was.  I glanced at my watch and said, “9:01-9:02; a sub-2 hour pace”.  She smiled and thanked me and then made it her mission to stick around me for the entirety of the race.  I had my music on fairly loudly, but I think we both enjoyed knowing that the other was right there, if we needed a pick-me-up.

Mile 3-7 were just fine – I was pacing well (sub-9 min miles) and felt strong.  I almost forgot to take a gel around mile 7.5, but something clicked as I could see the Papago Hills in front of me.  I knew I would need a little jolt to help me continue my pace.

By mile 8 we had begun our ascent through Papago and no one was really happy.  The hills aren’t particularly hard – but they’re long and seem never-ending.  My times were just over a 9 minute mile for a couple miles, but it was ok.  I knew I had saved up some time from my prior 8 miles.

As I passed mile 10, I could see the descent in the distance and was really excited.  It felt like I was flying down miles 11 and most of 12, but that last mile through Tempe is always a killer.  Rio Salado has some elevation.  Its not enough to break you down completely, but it is enough to depress you and make you desirous of the finish.  About a ¼ mile from the end, I looked to my left and there, at my side, was the lovely woman from mile 3.  Evidently, I had paced her the entire run.  We grinned at each other and sprinted to the end.

As I glanced down at my watch to see the time, I could only smile.  I had done it – another PR – and this time it was a sub-2 hour ½ marathon!  1:58:03 – My Garmin says I went an extra tenth maneuvering in and out of people along the way, but I’ll take it.

I smiled my way through the finishers chute, grabbing a banana and water – looking for my colleague and friend, Christina.  (She had run the mini-marathon with another colleague, Mark.)

Two proud ladies: Me and Christina!

Shortly after I finished, Kris joined the 3 of us with her own Personal Best: 2:23.  And, then Anne crossed the finish line with another PR: 2:33.  It was a banner day for all of us and I cannot tell you how excited I was to be standing there in the reunion area with so many of my closest friends and co-workers.  Running is my thing, I know – and nothing makes me happier than to enjoy victory with all of them!

We all got 2nd medals for completing both Vegas and Phx: The Desert Double Down

Anne, Amy and Me

Ken, Me, Christina and Mark

Kudos to everyone who ran: Christina, Mark, Ken, Anne, Loretta, Dan, Amy, Kris and Josh!  We have much to be proud of, today – so go enjoy a beer and dessert!  You earned it!

Sean only wanted me at the end -- it was better than a medal!  And then he wanted to run... see below!

An Emotional Ride (bring the tissues, folks)...

6:30pm on Sunday and I am only now starting to blog.  Oh my!

This week was mostly riding – since Matt really needed to get my legs ready for this morning.  The details of the morning rides were as follows: COLD, VERY COLD and ANNOYINGLY COLD.  Ok, I think that should do it.

I was pleased that I got a couple of runs in, as well.  I did 6 miles on Tuesday with an 8:55 pace and then Matt joined me on Friday for a short-but-sweet 4.5 miler.  I think he decided to join me so that he would make sure I didn’t push myself too hard (what with this morning’s big event coming up and all).  Regardless, I always enjoy the company on runs, so it was nice to have someone else out there to lament the obnoxiously, unseasonably cold temps of this week.

Tuesday 6 miler

Friday's 4.5 miler

Matt had suggested I get out on the bike for a couple miles on Saturday, just to keep my legs loose, but I didn’t really have the energy to get all dressed up to ride in the dark alone, so I hit the gym for a short swim on Saturday super early.  It was good to be back in the water for a few hundred meters since I skipped Masters Swim, last week.

Which, of course, leads me to this morning’s big event.  As you all know – since you evidently read this silly blog every week, today was my first Century Ride (100+ miles).  After last week’s disasterous group ride, Matt knew I was anything but excited about riding for 100 miles with the same idiots.  He assured me that he would keep me away from the biking-divas and we’d do our own thing if we had to.

Before 7:30am, we were both at the “starting line”.  It was anything but a starting line, save the fact that there was someone there to check off my name from a list of people who paid the entrance fee.  And, people, it was 26 degrees.  YES – I KNOW – YOU’RE AS APPALLED AS I AM.  I didn’t move to Phoenix 10 years ago to EVER see sub-freezing temps, especially NOT on a morning I was supposed to put 100+ miles on my body, outside!

Once we were registered (and I refuse to go into what a cluster-f*ck that whole ordeal was), Matt and I were anxious to get out on the road.  We had hoped we could tack onto a group early on, but no one was really interested in getting out of their heated cars to start their rides, so Matt and I headed out on the route alone.  And, it was a solid 10 miles or so before anyone caught up to us and asked if they might be able to latch on.  He was a quiet guy – and likely unamused by my singing and swearing, so we just trudged forth for a few miles further until a group of 4-5 guys caught our wheels and asked if we might make ourselves into a group.  Now, at the time, Matt and I had been maintaining an 18-19 mph pace – and these guys caught our wheels.  Its important to remember this fact, because after I took a couple of miles on the front (and they enjoyed the draft), I asked if one of them might like to take over.  I got a fairly disgusted look and a “well, I don’t know the route?!” in return.  I laughed and said, “uh, none of us do, that’s why we pay attention to the signage directing us.”  (eye roll)

As the guy took off, he was pulling 15-16 mph.  Matt and I gave each other a look and Matt said, “Come on, they have to be able to do better than this – they caught up to us, right?!”  Astounded, we allowed the lousy pacing to continue for a few miles before Matt and I broke off and maneuvered around them.  As we passed, the guy on the front said, “sorry – I was going too slow.”  I laughed – I just could not understand it.  UNTIL of course I realized that they could only hold a decent pace if the stronger riders were carrying the front.  They hung onto our wheels until our first rest-stop at mile 22.  Then Matt and I hurried (in the port-potty and taking our gels) and headed back out on our own.

Shortly after that stop, I was no longer doing well.  We hit a little wind and it broke my spirit.  I was no longer able to comfortably maintain an 18 mph pace and I got really depressed – thinking I was letting Matt down.  Around mile 34, I asked Matt if he could “bring me down off the ledge because I was in a really, unusually dark place.”  He explained that he did not mind carrying me for a while and he was not going to let me fail.  Relieved, I tucked in behind him and carried on.  Shortly after, a group of riders began to pass us.  Matt said, “here’s our shot, Mer.”  It was our shot to have others carry us at a faster pace – but I simply could not catch the tail end of the group and I blew up as they passed.  And, then I was in a darker place and began to cry.  I was sad that I had, once again, let Matt down.  He could have/should have been able to work with that group – but I couldn’t make it happen.  My legs rejected the suggestion.  We were on our own, again.

Around mile 46, we hit our second rest stop.  I took an orange slice and a few Peanut M&M’s and Matt and I headed back out on the route.  Now we were keeping around a 17 mph pace and simply doing the work to finish.  It was hard – people around us were dropping like flies.  We passed one guy who tried desperately to latch on to us for a while, but once Matt and I had our groove on, we lost the poor guy.  There was another potential group who came up on our tail around mile 50 and Matt and I agreed that this was a group with whom we could gel!  We latched on and were keeping pace with them around 19-20 mph.  Every mile was still work, but it was easier work.  After a few miles, the tandem team took the lead (they were positioned right in front of Matt and me) and they ratcheted it up a notch to 22 mph off the front.  I could not do it.  I was begging for them to keep with what everyone else was doing, but it was pointless and Matt agreed to allow us to fall away from this group, too.  Again, I was sad.

By mile 60 something bad was going on with Matt.  He was complaining of breathing pains and bricks for legs.  I knew we should slow down – so we did and we carried on around 16 mph.  He was in a pain-cave I had never seen before and it, honestly, scared me.  “Everything hurts, Mer!” he said.  Right after that, we passed a sign that said “10 miles ‘til lunch.”  I asked him if he thought he could make it to the lunch rest-stop and he said he thought he might, but was pretty certain that it would be the end of the road for him.  At that point I was committed to just getting him to mile 70 – and at whatever pace his legs would carry him.  I took the lead and listened attentively to his needs.  BUT, at mile 65 Matt blew a tube.  OF COURSE!  This made me more nervous, but I told him to just chill out and I would handle it.  I think he finally cashed in on all of the tubes he changed for me.  Fortunately, it only took us a few minutes and we were back on the road to the lunch stop.

Matt made it to the mile 70 stop and had a couple of cookies and a HOT cup of coffee.  I may have failed to mention that part of the misery of this ride were the frigid temps.  We were double layered everywhere – socks, gloves, jerseys, etc.  NOTHING really helped.  The hot coffee was a godsend, for sure!

Some people actually ate lunch at mile 70, but not us.  I simply could not imagine eating anything of substance and then completing another 30 miles.  Once we had coffee in our systems, I asked Matt if he thought he could continue.  I told him I would carry him all 30 miles if need be and we’d go as slow as he needed.

He agreed and we headed out.  I was so nervous I would kill him on the ride.  I made sure to keep the pace exactly where he needed it.  What we realized, though, was that everyone was dying.  We’d gone 70+ miles and so had many others.  We began passing rider after rider – even at 15-16 mph.  I think Matt would agree – it was pretty gratifying to realize we weren’t alone.  And, I carried Matt.  Every so often he’d ask if I was ok on the front and I would simply nod – not wanting him to even know how hard it was for me.  By mile 80 we started a descent and I was so relieved.  Matt was still in a world of misery, but he seemed to be dealing with it and just laying down the miles on my rear wheel.  There’s certainly a part of me that realizes what a gift it was for him to have me there, but all I could think about were all of the times the roles were reversed and Matt believed in me – carrying me for miles without complaining.  So, I didn’t say a word about the difficulty of those miles.

At mile 86 we hit the last rest stop and barely stopped for a minute to take gels and water.  I actually told him I was willing NOT to stop – I just wanted the day over at that point.  As we turned away from the rest stop, Matt said, “Ya know, I am actually feeling better.  So, let me know when you need a break.”  It wasn’t a mile later that I allowed him to carry me again.  After 16+ miles of working on the front, I was so ready for a break and agreed to let him do so.  Occasionally someone would catch our tail as we traded off being on the front, but no one lasted long.  Those last 15 miles were simply too hard to even describe.  Somewhere around mile 92 I actually asked Matt if I could just quit.  EVERYTHING HURT!  As we traded positions at one point I said, “Just so you know, this is WAY freakin’ harder than a marathon.  In a marathon you can walk when you need a break, for crying out loud.”  Sadly, I think Matt enjoyed hearing that and he worked harder on the front to help us get it over with.

There were 4-5 of us together for the last several miles – and time seemed to stand still.  I cannot not remember ever wanting anything to end as much as I wanted that ride to end.  My watch beeped 100 miles and Matt celebrated.  I, of course, could only swear obscenities – since the damn ride was actually 101 miles.  Such a gyp!  And, as we rounded the last turn, I could see Anne and Loretta on the corner yelling at us and snapping pictures.  “Oh, my god,” I said to Matt, “they actually came out to see us finish!”

There we are - hanging on by a thread!

Anne and Loretta hurried over to our cars and snapped photos and showed us the signs they’d made to cheer us on.  I have the best friends in the world.  I simply do not know how I got them, but I am not going to take any of it for granted.  6+ hours and they were still willing to be out there, in the freakin’ COLD, to celebrate our accomplishment.

Hell, we look good for 101 mile, eh?

Anne held this sign for me as I passed her at the "Non-Finish Finish Line"

Matt and I hugged and celebrated with another guy who’d been riding “near” us for 25 miles – and then I headed off to Anne’s to eat and see the kids.

So now I am emotional and sitting on my couch reliving the day – as I do each time I blog.  This day, of course, is different.  As my dear friend Ron had said to me after we finished our first marathon together: We accomplished one of the toughest feats together and we are now bonded for life.  I needed Matt early on to remind me that I could get through the pain, regardless of the pace – and he needed me at mile 60 to get him through some of the toughest mental and physical pain of his life.  Now, we are bonded for life.  THIS WAS THE HARDEST THING I HAVE EVER DONE.  But, I did it.  WE did it.  I don’t think either of us would have been able to finish without the other.

Food with Anne and Loretta after the ride!

Had to include this picture - I am drinking the Deschutes "Chainbreak" White IPA (seemed appropriate)

And then, to be reminded at the end, that so much of my family is right here in Arizona – thank you, Anne and Loretta, for always being there to remind me that I am the luckiest girl in the world.
  

It bears mentioning that Amy's bday was celebrated on Friday night -- Loretta is not pictured (someone had to "take" the shot after all).

Here's to a Happy New Year - and healthy friends!

This has been an absolutely crazy, exciting and disappointing week of workouts.  I woke up on Monday (NYE) to an email from Matt saying he had a stomach bug and was basically hoping death would swoop in – so my easy ride on Monday was beautiful, crisp, cool and somewhat lonely.  But it was a solid 16 miles out Pecos Road and back. 

New Year’s Day, I took advantage of our last day off, by hitting the trailhead and pushing out a nice 6 mile run on the Desert Classic Trail.  My legs felt super heavy the whole time, but amazingly, I pushed through and finished in EXACTLY (to the second) the same time as my PR the week prior.  (59:26) 

After a nice day of rest, Matt emailed on Wednesday night saying his bowels were back intact and he’d be able to head out for a short, easy ride on Thursday morning.  It was good to have him back – and slow was the name of the game.  We didn’t go far or fast, but it was nice to be out there.

At some point during the workday on Thursday, Matt asked if I was running the next morning.  I think I almost dropped my jaw – was Matt thinking of running with me again?  I told him I had about 4-5 miles planned, since I had my last long run before the ½ planned over the weekend.  He asked if he might be able to join me and I was thrilled to have the company.  It had really been some time since the two of us actually ran together.  Matt’s pace is better than mine by about 30-45 seconds/mile.  But, as he is building his mileage, hanging out around my comfort pace was a good idea.

However, Thursday night, I left working thinking I ought to try to get to the Masters Swim class, again.  It had been a couple of weeks and I had learned a few new tricks from Steve, my former spin instructor, so I knew I ought to finally sign up for the class.  I arrived at the gym around 6pm – a full 30 minutes to get the paperwork out of the way before the class started.  Well, it only took about 5 minutes to complete the requisite paperwork, so I sat by the pool watching a group of teens coached by one of the swim trainers (Mindy). 

I watched and watched and watched as Mindy simulated being in the water and what their strokes should look like.  Then I watched the teens emulate what she was telling them.  I thought, “well, hell, there’s the missing link.”  I could see this smooth stroke gliding into the water like a fish – and just like Steve told me, elbow up by the ear, not wasting any motion back into the water, smoothly. 

At 6:30pm I introduced myself to Mike, the young swim instructor and told him my plans to increase my time and endurance in the water (predominantly in hopes that one day I might finish an IronMan – but for now so that I can hit a decent time in the Leadman in April.)  He showed me the board of drills and told me to hit the water for 300 easy meters free-style.  I obliged and practiced what I had just learned from Mindy.  It felt better – smoother and swifter.  I was liking this new technique.  It wasn’t so different than my more recent technique, but there was simply something better about it. 

At the end of 300 meters, I popped up and looked at my watch – 2:24/100 meters.  11 seconds faster than my usual pace – YES!

Kickboard drills, mixed with free-style commenced and Mike had me working on my kick to make me faster.  After my 6^th or so drill, Mike looked at me and said, “there is NOTHING wrong with your stroke – its beautiful.”  It was then that I said, “REALLY?  I just learned it from the prior instructor.”  He was floored.  I told him what I had previously done and what I was doing now and he complimented me profusely on my adaptability in the water.  My times were better, I used fewer strokes and my efficiently quotient improved a LOT.  2100 total meters later – I was feeling more confident about my swimming than ever before. 

Friday morning, Matt and I met for a 4.5 mile run.  We chatted away for the entirety of the run.  Considering his lack of road-running mileage recently, I kept commenting on how impressed I was that he could hang with me.  Our pace was right around a 9 min/mile even with the hills and Matt was absolutely fine.  I think we finished in a smidge over 40 minutes, putting us just under a 9 min/mile pace – and I remain impressed by his ability to come back from the non-running-dead.

Extra cheesy smile - so please to have a running buddy!

Saturday was to be our last long ride before the century, so Matt had planned for us to do a group ride with the Phoenix Metro Bike Club.  They plan somewhere around 35 miles and he thought it would be a good opportunity for me to understand what its like to work with a larger, structured group.  I invited Josh and Aaron to join us and they were game.  So, when I woke to an email from Matt saying both of his kids had terribly scary fevers and were vomiting – I was laced with fear. 

I exchanged a couple of quick emails (you know, the panicked, “what do I do, now” kind) and Matt assured me that I would manage just fine without him.  I could tell he was nervous for me and he felt absolutely dreadful that he was not able to join me – but we both knew the right thing for him to do was the stay home with the kids.

I met Josh and Aaron at the parking lot where there were 50 or so other riders lining up to head out through the streets of Tempe, Phoenix and Scottsdale.  Josh and Aaron didn’t seem remotely nervous about the ride, but I was a mess. 

The ride was, well – awful.  I hated 90% of it.  I was tense and stressed out the whole time.  The group of riders I was with for the first half of the ride were a disaster – not paying attention to anything that wasn’t right in front of their tire.  I thought surely someone would die on the ride.  The route had stoplights every ½ to 1 mile and it made me want to kill myself.  Sometimes (but rarely) we’d catch the light and be able to trudge through, but for the most part, it was stop and go for 10+ miles in the beginning.  Bleh!

I’d lost Josh early on and remained with Aaron’s group for the first ½ of the ride.  I was pleased to see that my hill work was FAR better than most of the riders – so as we headed through the Foothills, I was in front for much of it.  In fact, at one point no one knew where we were going, so I found myself leading a group of about 15 riders through Ahwatukee.  I was excited and nervous – since I had no idea where I was going. 

The group met up at a gas station super close to my house – and we had just enough time to take some Gu and water before we were off again.  Sadly, some jackass caught my front tire as he made his way out of the gas station and I went down – HARD.  Yep – ripped my riding pants and I am back to scabrous-purple-colored legs.  Lovely  (sad face).  I am fine, Mom!  Just a little ego-damaged.  The jackass didn’t even wince!  Made me so mad. 

The rest of the ride was pretty awful for me, as well.  The fall put some distance between me and Josh and Aaron – as well as relegated me to a less than fabulous group of riders.  They thought this was a social hour and my 22-24 mph pacing was down to about 17-20 mph.  I was in hell.  At one point I asked one of the guys for the rest of the route and it seemed pretty cut and dry – so I pulled ahead of that messy, chatty group, and led the way for the next 10 miles or so.  I could see the “A” group about a mile ahead at one point and I found myself hoping for green lights.  I got pretty lucky for a few, but then they did too. 

I did eventually catch up to the back end of the “A” group about a mile before the finish – but by then I was pissy and frustrated.  My final analysis was – these cyclists were disrespectful, unobservant and too interested in the social aspect of riding to get any real benefit from the outing.  I actually had to tell a guy that he was so unobservant (at one point) that I found myself certain he had forgotten he was in a group and that he was intentionally trying to kill anyone who got anywhere near him.  It was just awful .  I actually told Matt (via email) that I hated him when the whole ride was over.  I didn’t mean it – but I had no other words of encouragement the moment I finished.  I literally spent over 2 hours completely tense and frustrated – I was nearly in tears for at least 45 minutes – and wrecked every muscle in my body from being so tight for so long. 

Aaron, Me and Josh (L-R) -- not sure exactly what happened to Aaron's shirt.  

Matt assures me that next weekend will be better.  If its not, I am done with this group riding bull-shit.  I know that with Mr-Calm-and-Encouraging at my side it will be a marked improvement over yesterday.

So, what did I need to do to fix my endurance-brain?  I needed to get up this morning and run the entire Desert Classic trail.  It would make me whole again.

I have no great stories of coyotes or crazy mountain bikers.  I did have one guy, about 6.5 miles out tell me I was doing really great (not sure how he had a clue, since we were running in opposite directions and he had no idea where I started and where I’d end – but it was a lovely moment, regardless). 

I can tell you that I hit the trail just before sunrise – which meant I was given permission to see the pinks and the purples fill the desert mountain skyline for a solid 30 minutes.  The chill in the air, mixed with the warm desert floor, made for incredible fog in the distance at the base of the mountains.  The fog laid low along the ground and the mountains stood tall and picturesque above it.  I just love love love to have the opportunity to witness it.  Its all about the timing, my friends.

2 miles into the run - at sunrise.

Happy, proud: 1:49 -- 11 mile trail to home

I could feel the tight muscles of my calves with every step for several miles.  The tense ride did not make for a relaxed, comfy run – but it didn’t stand in the way of hitting the hard ascents with a ferocity only a trail runner knows.  As I hit my street I glanced at my watch – I was going to pull a sub-10-minute 11 mile run with 9.25 miles of trail.  There is something about being able to tell you that – that brings me to tears.  I am simply a different athlete today than I was even 6 months ago.  I have the trails to thank for so much of it.  They are my sun and my moon and everything in between.