This past weekend, I felt a little behind because all my tri club friends got to ride centuries this weekend. They are lucky ducks. None of this weekend's centuries fit my schedule. Saturday, I wanted to make an appearance at the Pride Festival to support my awesome parishioners appearing with Integrity, and I had to be done in time to get home to shower and change before the Saturday Circle Service at 5PM. And then Sunday, I was working all the services, so that meant a 7AM - 3PM day. Which also meant I had to practice a collect in Spanish and translate a children's story.
Luckily, my SuperCyclist friend was leading a ride with the GEARs group that was scheduled for a distance that would have been either 70, 75, or 65 miles... depending on who you talked to and which paper you signed up with, and which group you rode with (fast-fast, medium-fast, or slow-fast). And whether or not your group missed a turn somewhere. I think I missed a turn somewhere. All told, I rolled back into the park with 85 miles on my odometer.
If you were curious, this is not going to be my year for having normal tan lines, either. Despite my copious use of sunscreen to protect my Instant-Burn skin, I am showing distinct evidence of Cycle Tan. There's also a Road ID tan starting too, which should thrill those guys. My current one is purple and I wear it for every single workout.
I think I went out with the medium-fast group, which is great for improving my average miles per hour. My MPH is better than ever. The last two weeks, I've been pushing the high 16s. That's faster than M, right now. I feel very swift. There's times on the flats when I'll be cruising along at 20-21 mph and feeling all super-cool, and I'll make a chase on the fast-fast group and see how long I can hold their wheel.
Sometimes I even catch them, for about 10 seconds.
Two minutes later, as they easily soar away from me, I'll be catching the medium-fast group's wheel again going "WHEEEE!" Because I have never before been able to even THINK about chasing the fast-fast group or catching anyone's wheel. Besides, there's a sort of core group of medium-fast people that I enjoy riding with. I'm becoming comfortable holding someone's wheel and even taking a turn pulling. That means that you ride really close together so you don't get buffeted as much by the wind, so you conserve energy and you go faster together than alone.
I skipped my scheduled training and transferred my rest day to today. Hey, I'm Episcopal, and my life is ruled by rubrics governing when I can transfer certain feast days to Sundays, so why can't I apply transfer rubrics to tri training? Today had scheduled a 1:45 hour run, which couldn't have begun until 3PM, and we are having an Oregon heatwave and it was 94 degrees. In Virginia, I called that "7AM in August" and made slightly stronger Gatorade. In Oregon, we wave our pale hands and squint at the shiny thing in the sky and call a state of emergency. In fact, where's my cucumber martini?
And after 5 services in two days (not to mention the midweek stuff and the pastoral calls and the general weight of all the responsibility of being the priest while the Rector is on vacation, oh my word, and did I mention the heat? Good gracious. It is a good thing I had my hand fan today!), I was beat. My job requires me to wear a long-sleeved, floor-length dress, covered up with calf-lenth silk poncho, and spend a few hours standing next to flame on a high dais where all the heat in the world rises to. I should be packing Gatorade in the Sacristy!
I pulled my Southern Lady card and took to my couch with my sweet tea and a fan this afternoon.
Sadly, my favorite pool is closed on Sunday, and the other pool closes at 7:30. By the time I at my 5:00PM Sunday-Clergy lunch, and talked to M on the phone, it was almost 7. That is why I didn't go swimming.
Oh, fine, whatever, I'll do some yoga and stretching while watching Olympics so at least it's an ACTIVE recovery day. Happy now, conscience?