Tuesday, October 2, 2012

My Shins. How They Burn.

Day two of my Ironman training schedule: bike and run.

Today I'm sweating chlorine. Profusely. Which, when I become aware of it, alarms me. How did my body retain so much chlorine in the first place, and is this what I should expect every day after swimming 1800 pool meters?

Bike path commuting to work, allotted training miles slipping under me, I'm retreating to the melancholy place of singular focus where endurance athletes find circumvention from . . . mostly morning traffic sociopathay.  Former morning traffic sociopathy, because I'm on my second day of Ironman training.

The shadows stretching sideways from this side of the hills I ride around give the impression that landmarks on the horizon are popping up in front of me exactly like they do on my GPS when I drive on the road.

My legs are the arms on a clock, pushing time forward. If I let off the pedals, time slows around me. But there's a rabbit in the wash down below the trail. Going the same way I am, about my speed, and I find myself talking trash (in my mind) to the rabbit. Morning traffic sociopathy takes a while to work itself out, as does the cholrine.

Main road, nearing today's turnaround. Sudden glitterflash of broken glass in the bike lane, and I drift a few inches over into the nearer of two lanes to avoid tireslash. Seething Man, probably fresh from the traffic, rides up my back wheel and speaks Horn to me. Loud-ly.

Looking across the lane, I bellow, "This. Is. Sparta!" (in my mind), and with cleated foot, push him down, down, down the road and out of my life.

Later, on my tempo "run" (lope or whatever), my shin muscles remind my why the phrase "work up to it" came into the vernacular. I remind my shin muscles that despite residual ow! from yesterday's inaugural training run, I must persist until iron courses through my veins. Latent high school A&P memories take this opportunity to remind me that iron actually does course through my veins so that hemoglobin can deliver oxygen to my muscles, right now.

And I smile with the sudden realization: I am an ironman. Already.

And this is day two.

Monday, October 1, 2012

Lance Armstrong Wins Superfrog, Naked*

*Here is the story and video


Kona In My Pants

Me: I've got Kona in my pants.
  
Lady Partner: In your pants?  

Me: Ya. All my best resources for getting to Kona are there.

Lady Partner: Ah. You smell like cholrine.

Me: (Proudly) Uh huh. I've been swimming.

Lady Partner: So not all your resources are in your pants.

Me: (Proudly) All my best ones are.

So begins my journey to become an Ironman.