YSL: Poetry Friday

The Sun Rises
It is dark when I get up
It is dark while I swim
Why did I paint my toes
Such a cheerless shade of mauve?


Food Joy
'Twas late one night
post-vegetarian dinner, you see
I tossed and turned;
Peeked at the clock (it was three)
When finally I fell
into a deep, deep sleep
I dreamed
(most regrettably, it seems)
That
I
Ate
A Meatloaf
'Twas wrapped in Bacon,
with a capital B; then sprinkled liberally with parsley
(Why? That I could already eat)
There was a nice fluffy dish
of mashed potatoes beside.

But then I woke up,
drooling and lonely.

No more! The chains of the veggie lifestyle
have been cast aside
Now I eat what I want to
and set the guilt aside

for later.

Lousy Day
I want not
to work out
Today.

YSL: Day 51

Yesterday was a great day all around. I got up at 5, had some coffee and a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, answered some e-mail, and went off to the pool in some insane crazy snowstorm. My camera does not have a phone, so I couldn't take a photo to show you the sideways-blowing stuff. Too bad.
'Twas a fairly long workout, again--an hour and twenty minutes in the pool--but I managed to get it all in with the exception of two 50-yard intervals of drills. (The time seems to be improving. We'll see.)
Then it was a short bicycle back, in the still-sideways wind and snow and salt and road grit, and then, one egg-and-cheese sandwich and four hours of work later, collapsed on the couch for a 45-minute nap.
I rode 1/2 an hour at decent cadence on my trainer and then showered and worked some more, made myself some cabbage and noodles, and then I jogged to the CARA event, where I was talked into four miles that ended up being closer to 4 and a half, and then, with my added distance to the event, 5.2 miles. In retrospect, it wasn't a smart thing (the weekly group runs are unscheduled ones), given the stuff that's on my plate for Day 52, but then I realized...hey! I have the power the change stuff around! Alright!!
Today is packed. I have a massive editing job to do and some other garbage on my plate that's stressing me out, and it just makes absolute sense that I can't sleep. It's nearly 2 now and I have to get to bed somehow. And yet, I find myself eating a massive peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich and washing it down with a glass of apple juice. My reserves must be depleted or something.
The week has started with a bang. It's listed as a 16-hour training week and I've already logged two and a half of those hours...just 13.5 left to go. Ha! Ha! Ha!
Here's the map for tonight. Did I mention that we ding-dong ditched Jim on our run? Only the best way ever to start off a run. Heh.

PB: Week 7

No training this week. Completely lost my motivation to get up early. It's cold, dark and lonely - there's nothing fun about it. I was feeling pretty down about it most of the week, but now I've come to terms with the fact that I may not enjoy training until spring comes around.

YSL: Days 48, 49, 50

Today is Day 50. It's a rest day, and I'm inordinately pleased.

This week was very strange. I swapped workouts one day; did part of one on a day that was supposed to be a swim test day but ended up being a possible rest day--I opted not to rest--and skipped a day entirely. So, to this date, I still have not completed a full week of the preparation period. It's only been 2 weeks, but it's disheartening to realize how bad I am at completing this stuff.

I've started keeping a food log. I was shocked and a little horrified to realize that my net amounts were almost all in the negatives over five days, and by the multiple hundreds of calories...As much as I try, I just couldn't seem to choke down enough calories in the day. I'd get halfway through a bowl of noodles and feel completely full and then not have another chance to eat until four hours later.

I went back to eating meat on Saturday night, when I collapsed on the couch after work at the bookstore and fell asleep sitting up. I spent the afternoon feeling nauseated and totally weak, and actively lamenting the fact that I just could not get up the mojo for even the short tempo run and ride that was prescribed me.
Sunday I talked to Coach Mike and rehashed the training and swim problems. He noted that I just needed to get as close as possible to what was on the schedule, and that I ought to give myself more leeway and switching things around. So I'm doing away with feeling badly about that, and looking forward to the coming week.

Yesterday's workout, a "long" run in the slip-slidey treacherous ice and two hours and five minutes on the trainer, was excruciating. I cried at the end of it (I know, how sorry am *I*?), laid flat on my back to stretch, and ate a pizza with sausage on it. Okay, not one whole pizza, but still.

Lara noted that she can't tell whether or not I'm really enjoying this process. I am. I really, really am. It's fascinating to discover certain things about oneself, and since the rest of my life is such a non-scheduled (outside of appointments) mishmash, it's great to have this structure.

More importantly, it's really, really nice, after a hiatus of several years, to feel as if I'm getting stronger again. It was interfering with parts of my life: having to THINK about whether or not I can do five, six miles with friends is stupid and annoying, when compared to being flexible enough--and strong enough--to just up and do it.

LT: Week 7

F: 30 min run @ base endurance. Pulse through the roof while barely achieving walking pace. Felt much worse over the day. Obviously not ready. Ditched Sunday cyclo-sportive and all other weekend workouts. Gah.

YSL: Day 47, redux

Hi everyone--
Just a recap on yesterday's run.
I'm really, really sick of this weather. I actually really like cold temperatures, but what's making things really hard is the terrain here: the weather fluctuations have made for snow, then water all over as the snow melts, then a quick-freeze makes it so that the water goes to ice; then another fine dusting of snow makes the ice virtually impossible to see. This has been going on for days. It's uber-treacherous and quite dangerous.
Here's yesterday's gimpy transition run after a 75-minute session on my trainer. (I had a choice between a half-hour run or a 20-minute run. I went for 20 minutes because--you guessed it, I didn't want to risk breaking my neck for a stupid three-mile jog.)

YSL: Days 45, 46, 47 (Poetry Friday)

45: Totally exhausted from Day 44. Did endurance bike workout at a snail's pace and forgot the hill repeats.

46: Swam in the morning. Coach Mike has down an hour but he says that if I want to I can adjust certain parts of the workout to fit the thing into an hour, so I opted out of 200 yards of drills and 200 yards of kick strokes. That cut me down to around 1:10. Did not do transition workout base (hour bike; 1/2 hour run) due to scheduling snafu and deadline hell; pushed it to Friday (today).

47: supposed to do a swim test; Coach Mike says to do a recovery swim instead, but it looks like it's going to be the TWB i missed from yesterday.

I've gone out every single fricken night this week, either for work or otherwise. I'm exhausted and laying low. Somewhere in my head I remember Mike telling me I was going to have to rejigger my priorities. Is this what he meant?

Poetry Friday
Slip, splash, zipping here and there.
Frenzied kicking, water frothy,
Muscles tight and tamed.
But in Lane One
--that's the Floater Lane--
serenity reigns.

Their swimsuits are loose;
their skin is loose, too, and crepey.
Bellies balloon outwards; skin is white and pasty.
They bob slowly
to and fro
enjoying the feel of the water
Not hurrying; not counting--
An outrageous idea, this smling while swimming;
What happiness in Lane One!