I Never Win Anything – Capital City Y Tri – The Recap

The Capital City Y Tri is my local race. The swim is in the pool I workout in, the bike is on roads and trail that I ride on all the time and I have run the trails of the run course countless times. The inaugural event was last year, where I finished Top Male and 3ed overall. I was only beaten by a 13 year old girl and a very quick woman.

It wasn’t a secret that I wanted to do well in this race, and if the same competition showed up from last year I figured I had a good shot at the overall win. But I tried not to let on how much I wanted to win this race. It’s not often I get a legitimate shot to win a race, I figured this year may be it, if some actual fast kids find out about this little race.  So I wanted to get while the getting was good.

This winter and spring my training has gone very well. I have been consistent and haven’t let any setbacks turn from days into weeks of not training as has happened in the past. I had a solid first race at The PolarBear Tri and had excellent splits at the Ragnar relay a couple weeks ago.  Although the Ragnar came with a downside, while basically PR-ing a 10 mile last leg, I tweaked something in my left quad, which had done nothing but get worse even with rest.

With the first part of my race season in full swing and some big training blocks coming in preparation for my A race, I got all panicked and with the help of WebMd I had determined I either had a stress fracture or cancer…  Probably both.

I decided discretion is the better part of valor and went to the doctor. She looked at me quizzically and said, I’m paraphrasing…  Mostly.

“You know your femur is the biggest bone in your body right? If you have a stress fracture you’re coming in for more tests because something else is seriously wrong with you. Also I need to pay off some student loans so I’m going to let you get X-rays to make you feel better even though I already know the outcome.”

So when the results came back negative (#duh) she told me to take a bunch of Advil, ice it a quit whining. (Again, paraphrasing… mostly.) I followed her advice and things go a little better, not good enough that I was confident for the race though, just better enough that I didn’t think my leg would snap in half if I ran hard.

The Actual Race

I was in the last wave with all the fast swimmers and my main competition…  This was my first race where I knew my competition and I would start with and have to finish before them in a straight up race.  Usually I just go hard and have no idea if I’m ahead or behind the people I was passing and the people passing me.

I had one guy marked, I raced him at the PolerBear Tri a few weeks ago and beat him by maybe 1:30, and he had a pretty killer bike split.  So I knew he would probably go by me on the bike and I would have to run him down. Other then that the only competition I knew about was the 13 year old girl (now 14) who had beaten me last year for second place. She frightened me as word on the street she had an actual road bike this year to go along with her crazy swim and fast run.

Swim – 425 yards – 6:56 (5th overall swim)

The swim was a 425 yard pool swim, with this being a little local race everyone got their own lane which was nice but hard to tell where you were as you were swimming.  My swim recently hasn’t been where I want it. It was going really well but I lost it somewhere, so it was not my best swim ever.  But I managed to exit the pool with most of my competition but not ahead like I had hoped.

Bike – 11 miles – 33:46 (2nd overall bike)

The bike is almost an out and back, with some of the out being on the rail trail. It is basically flat, on the way back there are a couple short steep rollers, but nothing to write home about. I out transitioned most people (transition time is included in the bike time I believe), but was caught by a couple guys within the first couple miles, including Chad, my main competition. I tried to hang with him with him for a while but couldn’t without keeping the effort to high. In the PolarBear I had a really strong bike but faded pretty hard on the run, knowing I would need to run him down I didn’t want this to happen so I let him go up the road and tried to keep him in eye sight while hopscotching another rider. This tactic was relatively unsuccessful as he was out of eyesight pretty quick and I just had to hope he didn’t get to far ahead. I also had to deal with this other rider who I just hoped wasn’t a super fast runner because I was definitely not making time on him on the bike.

I finally made a pass stick heading into the last two short steep hills before turning in towards transition. I then impressed the old ladies and kids watching the dismount line by performing the ever so impressive, yet simple flying dismount… and headed into transition ready to run.

Run – 5 km – 20:45

At the start of the run I knew I had some time to make up, I just didn’t know how much.  The start of the run is kind of twisty and there is a downhill on the way to the rail trail, so I just tried to settle into a fast pace until I could see up the road a bit to see where I stood.

I turned onto the rail trail proper and look up to see how far back I was. I saw a black dot pretty far down the trail that I thought was Chad.  Ugh, he was a long way ahead but I put my head down and tried to reel him in. And, ever so slowly, he started to come back. But he was still way up the road.

I was hurting at this point, the run is flat except for 1 short steep hill back up to the Y and a bit of a gradient as we go around capital park, but I was going for all I was worth, and I didn’t think I would have enough track to catch him. My brain was in the midst of trying to convince me to go into cruise mode and settle for 2nd…  Or at worst 3ed…  I finished 3ed last year so this would be fine…  Trust me.

Then the following occurred as I was passing a woman and she heard me coming:

Her:  Fast feet coming…

Me: *breathe hard and trying to smile*

Her: Great job… But you’re never going to catch Chad.

Me:  *now pissed off* Watch me.

There was no going back after that, with my brain now fully on board, I kept pushing. The gap continued to shrink as we reached the turn around, and I could se clearly how far in front of me he was. It was still a long way, now with only maybe 1.5 miles left. I continued to close on him.  He reached the base of the hill up to the Y and as he rounded the corner he looked back to check the gap. I knew I had a shot. I hammered up the hill, legs burning as I went up the last 10 yards of 8% grade and turned right to go around the back of the Y. He was right there now, less then 50 yards ahead, but now we I was really running out of time. My brain descided it was done again and wanted to back off, “Nice job body, we almost caught him…” But then as I round the Y are all my friends cheering for me and they know I want to win, so now I /have/ to give it everything… Stupid friends.

We run across the street to Capital Park, and up the back side, he’s 10 yards ahead now and I’m still gaining…  Now I turn to strategy, do I sit behind him for a second to regroup and try and out kick him? If he goes now, I’m not sure I can go with him… I try my classic disheartening strategy, mostly because it works as everyone is hurting at the end of the race. As I bridge the last new yards to him we are inside 200 yards to go. I throw in a surge as I pass him and accelerate down the path hitting all the apexes and hoping he doesn’t have to much left in the tank. I heard him behind me but don’t bother to look back as I take  hard right towards the finish line and the final 75 yards. I once again heard my friends cheering, and just started chugging for all I was worth and came across the line with 10.8 seconds to spare.  Holy shit I had won! I think…

In my on the fly calculations, that was either for the race win or for 2nd place. I wasn’t sure, as I hadn’t seen the little girl (young woman? But that makes me sound old…), that I know of, the whole race… Either she had smoked us or she had had a problem somewhere. I asked around about her to see if she had finished and she had not. I started to think that, /maybe/ I had actually won. I didn’t really believe it until they had posted the results and there I was on top.

I am #1

I am #1

Wait, what? But I never win anything!?!

I was giddy! (Still am for that matter..) I don’t win races, even little ones, and definitely not exciting down to the wire races! And I even got to be on a podium with my good friend Melissa who finished top Female, and now owes me dinner, because I crushed her, even on the bike…  ;-)

Podium pic

All I do is win. (For real this time!)



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Plausible Deniability…

[Ed note: This is looong…  You may want to get some water and maybe a Gu to keep your energy up as you wade through it.  Sorry, as you can see 2 posts below this is my recap of last years race so I guess I have been bottling up my words, I’ll try not to let it happen again.]

The 2014 Mid-Winter Classic 10 miler rolled around once again this weekend, once again signaling the start(-ish) of the race season.  It really serves as a long painful warning to keep up some semblance of run fitness throughout the winter so you can survive its notorious hills.   It didn’t quite do its job this year, as you can tell from my staggering total of 96 miles for December and January combined.  But I was signed up for it and all the cool kids would be there so there was no backing out.

Cool kids.

Cool kids.

The race was filled to capacity 1000 not so bright people planning a long hilly race in the middle of a Maine winter. I had no one to car pool with this year as Danielle was running the race as a training run so would actually be running /to/ the race, so I decided to get there stupid early to get a good parking spot and get all set up.  I was all prepared for a nice arctic race but as I exited the car I noticed that it wasn’t all that cold, and as people started to filter in I saw a number of t-shirts and shorts in the mix.  Unfortunately I had no warm(-ish) weather clothes with me I did luck out that I had a running hat in my bag so I could ditch my super warm winter hat, and I don’t mind being warm so it turned out OK.

As race time approached the usual suspects filtered in, Eric, his angry little soon to be wife Sara, the newly stupid fast Danielle, The Gardiner Girls soon followed with their crazy fast husbands in tow.

The usual suspects

The usual suspects

The plan was my tried and true long distance race plan, relax for the first 5-6 miles then ratchet up the speed as towards the end.  This plan has given me several PRs and is my go to race plan for anything of distance.  This year wasn’t going to be a PR year, last year was to quick and I was in much better running shape, so I estimated I should be cruising at around 8:15 miles and hopefully approaching the 8 min barrier as we got towards the end.  I had heard rumors of Eric’s training and that his run was doing quite well, so I had resigned myself to yet another defeat added to the disturbing number of them that have come on recently, especially when he showed up in shorts declaring that he was going to “go hard”.  I’d get him come tri season when it really counted.  I informed him this would be pretty much a training run for me and I just hoped that I could hold off Jen for at least most of the race.  Jen was gunning for me after last year when I motored by hear near the end of the race humiliating her and causing shame to her family.  I had heard her training was going well too…  This had the makings for an ego pounding race.

Once again I lined up with Jen and Carrie, hoping to get them to drag me up the hills again if I could hang on. Again the downhill first mile passed to quickly, deciding discretion is the better part of valor, I let Jen and Carrie slowly slip ahead.  Mile 2 is where things start going uphill, then crazily enough I slowly reeled in Jen and Carrie up the hills, I paused to stick with them for a moment before deciding that I felt OK going this pace and passed them…  Carrie, having done this dance last year, swore at me as I went by and left them behind.

Jen and Carrie far, far behind.

Jen and Carrie far, far behind.

I continued to roll going at a too fast barely sub 8 pace, when I glanced up and there was Eric 20 feet in front of me.  Just then Sara comes motoring by greets us both stays with Eric for a second and then is gone on her speedy way. I rolled up beside Eric and it was on.

Not that either of us would acknowledge that it was on, but it was in fact, on.

Not racing

Not racing

“What are you doing back here with the slow kids?” I queried, knowing that I was well above my predicted slow pace.

“I’m just not feeling it today…” He stated as he motored on at exactly his goal pace.

And we continued on like this, shoulder to shoulder, as the next few miles ticked by, still to fast, but I was committed now.  I was surprisingly still feeling pretty good and relaxed as we crossed mile 6, which is kind of an ugly mile and also the point in the race where I wanted to ratchet up the speed.  I was having a good race, but there was no way I was going to be able to motor the last 1/2 of the race like last year, but I decided to push the pace a bit and see if Eric was still “not feeling it”. I heard Eric’s loud-ass Newtons slowly fall back a bit.  But they soon returned and he was at my shoulder again, apparently he was “feeling it” enough not to get dropped.  We slowed to an almost sustainable sub 8 pace and continued on as if nothing had happened.  We cruised through mile 7 accelerating up the long slight incline neither of us acknowledging the change of pace.

Still not racing

Still not racing

Miles 9 and 10 are tough, with long steep climbs and some pretty steep downhills that don’t let you relax much.  The road opened up and we were in a gap in traffic so we had to deal with a nice headwind as we approached the last big climb.  We started to push the pace and my wheels began to come off as we began the climb.  Eric got his shoulder in front, then a step, then two, then 10 and soon he was 200 feet up the road. My brain started to rationalize, “Meh, you knew he was going to beat you and you were only expecting 8:15s so you’re fine…”  My pace slowed even more.

Then two women went by me on either side. My brain woke up, “This is not gonna be a race where people storm by me at the very end as I limp in!  And there’s no way you are going to start this year like you finished last year with Eric disappearing into the distance!” it decided.  I pulled a Jens, told my legs to shut up, and picked up the pace re-passing the women, and drawing a bead on Eric’s back. I slowly, agonizingly slowly started to reel him in as we climbed that last hill, which according to my calculations is 9.8 miles long.  I wasn’t sure if I was going to have enough time to catch him, the turn into the parking lot was coming and then it was a deceptively long downhill to the finish, and if he hammered I wasn’t going to catch him.  We turned into the parking lot, I was still 10 steps behind and closing.  Now I knew I could catch him but had to be careful as I was just about fresh out of kick and if I went to early or if he turned around and saw me I didn’t think I could make it stick.

We approached the final two real corners, a 90 degree right followed by a 90 degree left, after that is was a gently sweeping left all the way to the finish.  I was only 2 steps behind now, he swept wide at the entrance to the right, taking it like he was driving a race car, I wanted to do the same but was kamikaze-ing into the corner to fast to change my line at this point.  This ended up being fortunate, as we weren’t going at race car speeds so I made the corner still holding my speed and had the inside line for the final left.

I’m not sure if Eric just went wide or if he heard someone coming up the inside and made room, but he left a gap and I made the pass up the inside and just let it all hang out.  Chugging with everything I had left, I heard his Newtons close behind me.  The finish refused to come, I guessed that I had gaped him, but I couldn’t be sure that I just couldn’t hear his shoes over heart exploding or if he had actually fallen back, and I didn’t dare look back or ease up.  I also didn’t know if I could keep going to the nonexistent finish line. Finally the finish line showed itself and I stormed across, doubling over and sucking wind victorious! Err, I mean, I finished my training run satisfied with my current run fitness going into this year.

Obligatory photo bomb

Obligatory photo bomb, somehow this became a thing…

Then it was time to greet all my friends as they came in and those that had already finished, because they are now or already were super speedy jerk faces (Danielle, Sara, I’m looking at you…).  I also met a new internet friend, or I met a friend who I now know on the internet, I’m not sure which way it went, Michelle who I believe had her self a nice PR! w00t! We moseyed on over to where we had stashed our stuff, drinking Gatoraid and eating some food before going our separate ways and heading home.

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Every Great Champion…

Every Great Champion must deal with setbacks and defeat. Yesterday was my turn. Playing Clubber Lang to my Rocky (Matt Serra to my GSP for you young kids) was my “little” brother who bested me at a race for the first time in our endurance career. He was nervous and pulled out all the stops, rented race wheels, a borrowed aero helmet and, you know, lots of actual training. While I was resting on my laurels, sure that I had done it before so I would do it again.

I was dominated in every facet of the game once we left the water, a place where I remain supreme. He had quick transitions, a ferocious bike, and a strong run. While I made rookie mistake after rookie mistake, an adequate bike that wasn’t up to the task, and a sub par run that let Ben catch me inside the last mile. I was beaten up one side and down the other. He put in the work and he deserved the dominant victory.

But what makes a great champion is what you do with your defeat. Do you give up and cash in your chips. Or do you become more determined, get back to basics and back to work. My coach and I have have already booked a flight to Nepal where we will be spending a month folding origami cranes and meditating on what has gone wrong. We will come back renewed, rejuvenated and ready to kick-ass next year.

Enjoy your hard fought victory while you can, because there is a storm brewing the likes of which you can not even comprehend. The gauntlet has been thrown.

Game On.

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Mid-Winter Classic 2013 – Recap

This past weekend was my first race of 2013 the Mid-Winter Classic in Cape Elizabeth.  This race was a bit of an unknown going in, I had kept my long runs in the 10 mile range, and done some speed work and hill work here and there, but had only been really consistently training for the month leading up to the race.   My 10 mile PR was in the 1:23 range, and I had my eyes on 1:19:59 but wasn’t sure I had that in me. I decided to take the same approach I took last year at the Great Bay Half Marathon, run relaxed for the first half, then start ratcheting up the pace in the second half.

It turns out that everyone in the world who I know was running or spectating at this race. The Gardiner Girls, Danielle and Sarah (both of which I haven’t seen enough of lately), most of the coaches from The Sustainable Athlete, and a bunch of my other friends.  So I knew it was at least going to be a good time.

me and my friends

Some of my friends

At the start I lined up near a couple of The Gardiner Girls, Carrie, Jen and her stupid fast (age group winning) husband, I figured they would be around my pace-ish so it was a good place to start.  We were chatting away when the cannon went off and scared the crap out of me and we shuffled towards the starting line.  Usually I take off way to fast at the start of races and explode in spectacular fashion, but there was enough of a crowed to keep my pace in check, I was feeling pretty relaxed but was moving along at a good clip, and fell in beside Carrie figuring she knew what she was doing.  We chatted a little as we ran maneuvering around people and finding our place in the race.  The first mile is mostly down hill but passed in a mere 7:53 which made me a bit nervous, but I wasn’t about to let Carrie leave me in the dust so I soldered on.  Mile 2 things started going up hill, once again against my better judgment I let me male ego drag me up the hills with Carrie, keeping a straight face and trying not to look like I was dying.

andy and carrie

Me and Carrie, pre-hills

By mile 3 things started to level out and I started to get in a grove, staying relaxed and hitting right around 8 minute miles.  Around here is where Carrie started to fade a bit, and I repaid her for pulling me up the hills by leaving her to her own devices, I’m selfish like that.  After a short while I spotted a Sustainable Athlete jacket up ahead and soon enough I was running with my friend Bill.  he was obviously not running fast enough as he was casually chatting with anyone who would listen about anything he could think of.  I listened to him and his friends chat away for about two miles until the second aid station, where I took a small cup of Gatoraid and started pushing the pace a little.

This was unknown territory for going this fast for a race of this distance, but I had been feeling good ticking of the 8 min miles, so I gave it some more effort and started reeling people in.  Mile 6 7:25, uh oh…  maybe that was a little to ambitious, but I kept going let’s see what we’ve got. Mile 7 7:44, that’s closer to reality, but only 3 miles left, it’s go time.

After mile 7 I really let myself go, I was feeling good and I can get through a 5K at this point without a problem.  Then I saw Jen up ahead in the distance, no slowing down now.  I slowly reeled her in and was hitting low 7 min miles on my GPS when I went by her (no I’m not competitive, why?).  She yelled something disparaging about my mother (apparently she is not competitive either) and I just waved and continued on my way pretending not to be working hard.  Then the course started to take an uphill turn into the wind and I started to pay for the hills with Carrie and blowing by Jen… But with only 2 miles left, I was giving it everything I had, and started trying to draft as best I can off my fellow runners.  I was just starting to fade, when I came around an uphill corner and saw Danielle and Sarah jumping and cheering.  This did wonders for me and my stupid male ego and I gave it some more gas.

Shortly after I had passed them I recognized the last hill from my preview of the course a month or so ago, I knew I had less then a mile to go so I just put my head down and pushed.  The last bit of the race is downhill and I gave it everything I had in my attempt to break 1:20, and when I rounded the final curve and saw the clock I knew I had it.  1:18:31.


This was way better then I had expected, and it makes me very optimistic for the rest of 2013.  10 miles averaging under 8 min miles bodes very well for me setting a PR on a nice flat half marathon course in about a month.

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Better Then Expected

Well apparently all has not been lost to beer and Doritos the last couple months.  After meeting up with Danielle, a quick DD run, and a courtesy course driving to get familiar with what we faced, we arrived at the Turkey Trot 5K.  Being slackers, we arrived with just enough time to for a short 1 mile warm up before lining up at the starting line.  I had skillfully forgot my gloves and GPS at home, so I was running blind and had some wonderful borrowed black and pink gloves.  Fortunately it wasn’t as cold as I was expecting so I left the gloves in the car.

The plan was simple, go out slow and slowly ratchet up the speed as the miles ticked by.  that plan lasted right until the starting cannon scared the shit out of me, and I took off like a shot, leaving Danielle far far behind.

The first mile is downhill and I managed to control myself enough to relax and hit the miles at a to fast but not suicidal 6:57.  From there the second mile was mostly flat with a bit of up hill thrown in to soften you up, trying to stay relaxed but on the edge of exploding brought me through 2 miles in 14:12, which seemed about right.  Then the uphill began. I was expecting this from our short preview, but it started sooner then expected.  Turns out hills look a lot smaller when you can just put your foot down to get up them.  Things really started to hurt up the biggest hill just before the 3 mile mark. I missed the time as I went by the 3 mile mark, but managed to pick up the pace for the all important .1 and finished with a respectable 22:49.

This was WAY better then I was expecting.  It gives me actual hope of breaking the 20 min mark sometime in the foreseeable future.  Now just comes the hard work.

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In Which I Prepare to Go Slow

So this weekend I’ll be running the Turkey Trot 5K, it will be my second 5K of the year.  The other one was in the midst of an epic 4 event weekend at the Black Fly Tri (1 Bike TT, 2 Triathlons, and a 5K), so I don’t really count it.  Considering all my races besides that 5K and the bike TT have been well over an hour long, and the amount of training I have been doing recently, I’m preparing myself for a not so fast 5K.


And by “not so fast”, I mean slow…  There is a better then even chance a pregnant woman will beat me.  (Granted this pregnant woman runs sub 4 hour marathons while pregnant, it would still be quite humiliating. )  I haven’t seen the course, but I’m looking at the high 24 to low 26 range as my current guestimate.  If I surprise myself and break into the 23’s it’ll still be one of the slowest 5Ks I’ve done since I got back into this whole endurance crazyness…

Think positive!

Thinking positively, this will be a baseline to see where I am, and how much work I need to do, to break the dreaded 20 min mark (Hint: a lot).  The last three weeks have been great training wise , getting in the runs and the miles, now it’s time to keep rolling and start with the speed work.

Yea, we’ll see how well that goes…

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In Which Trash Talk Backfires

[ed. note: In my continuing effort to make blogging more efficient, here is another entry that I tricked someone else into writing for me. This time I answered the riddle of a small trollish woman, and in return she had to write this post.]

My get-speedy-or-die trying race schedule for 2012/13 seems to be well intact at this point.
I have a kickass coach/slave driver/pace booty/sidekick (Danielle, DUH) to organize my agenda and tell me what to do and where to go.
I feel like I should be ready to kick ass and take names on the super speedy!

Bad news. We are about to start the journey down the long, cold, sad road into winter. Or, as I prefer to call it the start of my Jabba The Hut eating plan of excellence. I like nothing more than to than to dive face first into a vat of spinach and artichoke dip (diving equals excellent swimming training!) or perhaps running (speed training!) to the fridge to double fist a couple of Bud Lights.
Nothing would please me more than to spend the majority of the winter holed up in my burglar proof apartment doing just that. Alas, I feel that at the end of my winter long sloth fest when I reemerged sometime in April (or june, who’s really paying attention!) not only would I be bursting from my Ironman finishers jacket but I’d also be terribly slow.

For quite some time now I have been enjoying the view from the top. I love to brag about how I’m the speedy one in my group of friends. My lethal and deadly skills, sharp wit and scathing verbiage push me to the front of the pack with ease. I have tremendously enjoyed laying claim to the top dog prize in my hood, and up until this point have felt that I could maintain my amazing prowess despite my diet of pizza and grilled cheese.

I have recently lost my crown. Dethroned at the pinnacle of my career by a tiny speedy brat who on first glance appears to be a 10 year old boy stuck in a wild disarray of running attire. Upon eating her dust at Great Bay last year I realized that I was going to have to man up in a big way if I wanted to be on the top of the fast friends podium ever again…

My motivation to train like a BOSS this winter? FEAR!!! And FEAR HAS A NAMEEEEEE!!! (Andy! This is where you add a picture of me looking badass! Steal one from FB, NOT a bikini pic but something scary! Or, you can just leave this text in and people can imagine my scary race face… *sigh*)

Fear never looked so peppy.

[ed. note: This is what you were really looking for isn’t it. You’re welcome.]

Since everything in life is a competition I plan to become insanely fast as playing second fiddle to a barely 5 foot tall smart mouth girl is simply unacceptable.
I asked her about her training plan at one point and she advised me to sit about, eating all the cheesecake and drinking quite a bit of wine. I was able to see thru her scheme to turn me into a 300 pound fatty and I went back to my almost a vegan diet as quickly as I could, just to spite her. (and she went on to eat and drink her way to a BQ, how ridiculous!!!!)

I was hoping that she would vanish from our group of runners as swiftly as she had run in, leaving me to reclaim my thunder (ok, if somebody steals your thunder you can take it back. so hush)  However, she has used her womanly wiles to infiltrate all my friends, even going as far as dating my brother (and refusing to divulge his training plan!!! the nerve!!)

There is nothing that motivates a man like shame. And having all my non-high school (which was well over 30 years ago)  PR’S smashed by this little troublemaker is making me question my manhood.

I plan to steal her training plan for the winter, adding in ridiculous and questionable tasks like swimming endless laps (boring) riding my bike on a dumb trainer (retardo to the max) but most importantly, trying to run 100 miles a week across the frozen tundra.  I feel that insanely high mileage will benefit me in every way and certainly not lead to injury (sidelining me for the season, effectively keeping me from challenging my most worthy opponent…) (and the “author” says.. “HEH HEH”)

So there you have it. Let’s recap, shall we?
-Must not continue to have my hat handed to me by little girls in pink socks
-Must run 100 miles a week
-Must eat ALL the cheesecake and drink ALL the wine! And/or ALL the Bud Light!
-Must take back my rightful place as the fast one in the group!!!!!
-ER or PR bitches!
(or, just curl up in bed, cry, and accept the cold hard fact of life which- is that it is HIGHLY unlikely that I’ll be allowed to be the fastest ever again. But I can swim, SO THERE!!)

[ed. note: Game. On.]

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