He's the Man

The hub. doesn't race much. I think it's because he was a college runner--and a really good one--and racing now reminds him of what he could done then--and isn't doing now. But he's still so good, and I don't think he understands this. He's been mostly cross-training this winter in anticipation of his first tri this summer, so he wasn't sure what he could do in this race. He finished in just over 37. That's sub-6 minute pace! I can't run a sub-6 mile for longer than 400 yards, and he can just sort of blithely go out there and run 6.2 straight. Geez. As he crossed the line we all chanted, "There he is! The Daddy! The Old Man still has it! Go Daddy!" It was fun. The kids were really into it. I was a little sad I wasn't racing, because as you all know, I love to race, but it was fun to spectate for once. After the race I caught up with a few of my running buddies, including Vision Board, who ran well and was 5th master's woman, and 2nd in her age group. Yeah Mel! This weekend I (drum roll, please) did a lot of training. On Saturday I went for a 55 mile bike road solo--just me and the roads. I left at 6 a.m. It was cold. Much colder than I anticipated it would be-- and I froze. Every 10 minutes for the first 4 miles I had to stop so I could warm up my hands--and I DID have gloves. Finally I hit some good hills, though, and warmed up enough to forget how freezing I was. 55 miles is a long way to go alone. Usually I like to be alone (doesn't happen much these days with work and kids) but after a couple of hours I began to get sick of myself and my thoughts. Still, it turned out to be a great ride. I finished strong, averaged a little over 16 mph (which is good for me when I'm alone) and discovered a few new routes/loops because I got lost quite a bit. I did run across a rather frightening gaggle of turkeys. Yes, real turkeys, not the turkeys who try to run you off the road... (although I encountered a few of those as well...)   They're ugly, huh? Scary too. There was probably twenty-five of them, and they put out their big fans and made their ugly gurggley, "I'm pissed" noises. I seem to be encountering lots of interesting fowl lately on my work-out excursions. Anyway. Sunday. After the race this morning I went out for my own 12 mile run. I was beat from yesterday's ride and transition run, though, and so I didn't haul ass like I had planned I would in my master PLAN. It didn't help that I was feeling digestively challenged, and had to make a few pit stops along the way. It was a super hilly route, and so I spent more time out of my correct "zones" than I should've, but whatever. I tried to push the pace the last three miles, but I was pooped, and only averaged about 7:50 pace (I was shooting for 7:30's). Tomorrow: Back to work. Boo! Thank God it's a recovery week.