What’s another word for tired?

So I have paid for my bike to make its way to Louisville (cost more to get her there than myself…that’s some bull) and got a letter from the Race Director.  Not personalized, generic, but he had his assistant take the time to type it up, that was thoughtful.  You can say things are getting serious.  I took my relationship with training to the next level, I started uploading my Garmin data and started using Strava.  Strava is for kicks and giggles, it’s kind of to see who has the bigger balls and name your workouts funny things.  Social Media for cyclist and runners.  Don’t come at my with the Garmin uploading, yes it took me this long.  I went old school, excel baby.  It’s gotten to that point in training where I’m just really tired all the time.  This weekend I rode my first 100 miles ever and got off that saddle pretty damn proud of myself.  Superman pose style.  Cuase 100 miles isn’t hard enough lets add lightening, torrential down pour, and a pair of dogs.  Seriously though, race day someone release a pack of dogs after me, I definitely got up there in speed.  The next morning, I wanted to throw my bike off the Key Biscayne bridge…and so did my lady parts.  100 miles on the bike was followed by a half marathon the next day.  Really? Like pause for a moment and let that sink in.  I remember when I use to taper and then recover for 2-3 weeks after a half marathon.  Those were the good ol’days of peace and tranquility.  Needless to say, Monday morning I was in serious distress, and let’s not even get into the status of my hair and attire that day.

 Mother Nature making training easier

The result

I’m getting text from my mother asking me if I’m alive, my grandfather was about to put my picture on the back of a milk carton, and my sister is constantly threatening to disown me (not sure that would be so bad).

My friends are planning on these very exciting outings I have zero energy.  They wonder if I’m drunk or exhausted.  Not to mention they make fun of my tan lines.  Mostly things that require putting on clothes again and looking presentable are quick frankly just difficult.

Social and dating life…that’s cute.  I mean honestly, I can barely squeeze in doing my eyebrows and getting my nails done.  I’m starting to resemble wolverine and it’s not pretty.  Really, how can I go on a date with all that going on?  I live in a city where women put on fake eyelashes to go to the grocery store; it’s hard to be out in public like this.  If someone can share with me a 24 hour nail place, I would be forever in your good graces.

I’m hungry, I’m hangry, I want to eat anything and everything.  Sure, I’m burning thousands of calories but a doughnut or French fries still go straight to the mid-section.   So it’s a constant battle not to stick my face in every dessert that crosses my path.

I’m cranky, very very cranky.  My bed looks heavenly and it’s where I want to camp out.  So the fact that I am forced to get out of it early every morning is painful.  My road rage has reached new levels of scary but atleast I get all those words that aren’t social acceptable out of my system.  If another mom tells me “wait till you have kids, then you’ll know the meaning of tired”, I’m trading her kids for my training peaks, lets see how long she last.  My home feels like it’s a mess (lets not talk about my room).  I’m contemplating putting a sign that says “Excuse the mess, we’re training for an Ironman” at the front door to caution visitors.  But complaining aside, and I’m good at complaining, I’m almost there and still enjoying taking all this in. ~AddingMoMiles

 

 

Ponle Cabeza

So I am currently a little beat up. Muscles hurt, legs heavy, swollen, sleep walking and I’m starting to discover bruises where I never thought I could bruise. None other than the result All4Cycling Camp. This weekend we packed up our kits, helmets, bonk breakers, some chamois cream and caravanned our way up to Clermont, FL. It’s the only place in Florida where we have rolling hills, the fun street of Buckhill, and the infamous (now conquered) Sugarloaf Mountain. We left Thursday night and came back Sunday. Yes, we took a vacation day to go suffer. We have issues like that. I’ve been to Clermont before, I’ve strolled thru Buckhill once and made my way up Sugarloaf but this time was different. This was a trip with 15 hours of scheduled riding. I’m not going to lie, I was downright scared. Not only that, but I was heading up with what I like to call seasoned riders and some seriously strong cyclist.

Let me introduce you to Sugarloaf:

Day one I kept up for a good amount until we hit about three hours and then people kind of started to get smaller and smaller as I fell back. I was a little proud that I wasn’t the first on the van but I did end up there about 3 miles away from the hotel. I was angry, frustrated and just broke, for the last few miles every turn was a climb, I just felt like I had nothing else left. Who put the hotel on the top of a hill? I’m sure this was on purpose. I realized after this ride how grueling the course is going to be. As I shampooed the hours of sweat out of my hair, I genuinely started to worry about the race. Regardless of how disappointed I was in myself for getting on the van, I got great encouragement for what I was able to do. I would not get frustrated with myself the next day (I did).

I started Day 2 with the goal of riding longer than I did the day before, 5 hours. But it was the ride I realized exactly what I can do and how much I can push myself. It wasn’t all about the time and distance but the amount of support I received this ride, it’s beyond words. Pulling while going up two hills and hearing a group of 16 people or so root you on to make sure you made it all the way to the top. To have someone coaching you thru the climbs, pushing you (literally someone pushed me up the last climbs), telling you it’s mental (ponle cabeza became the theme), how proud they were to see you fight thru the pain, to hear them calling your name up ahead to make sure you get there, and just have a group who wanted to see you make it thru the end of the ride as much as you did.  Regardless of my attitude, I got a little cranky and boy did I bitch, they were pushing me. They know what I’m capable of more than I do most of the time. For those that were there reading this, thank you…thank you for everything.

 

Unfortunately by the third day I couldn’t handle the saddle, there wasn’t enough A&D in the world, but I got dressed and rode as long as I could. I finished the weekend with almost 13 hours and about 200 miles of cycling (gotta check the Garmin). Never in my life did I think I was capable of that. The weekend was full of laughs (ab workouts), pain, sweat, wind, rain, hills on hills on hills, adventures, good food and better friends. It was grueling, it was mentally challenging, but if anything I left Clermont a stronger athlete and ready to keep training. ~ Adding Mo Miles