"What the fuck? It's light outside." That was my first thought on Wednesday morning. Inauspicious, maybe, but it's certainly better than "where am I? And what is this vomit doing here?
After doing a couple two-hour rides with Ian as preparation (both of which, though pedestrian by a bicyclist's standards, took a serious toll on my lower back), I rode 100 miles from Pasadena to Gustavo's place in Oceanside on Wednesday.
I thought there was a nice sort of symbolism to riding out of town on my own power. In my two extra years at Tech I lived on my own (sometimes), financially supported myself, and in general began operating independently. But despite this seeming increased control over my life, I had a persistent perception of being pulled along in directions I never really wanted to go. On a plane or a train, or even driving a car, I continue to feel directed by the technology, which is bigger and more willful than I am. But the bicycle is intimate. In my imagination before the trip,riding my bike off into the sunrise became a metaphor for the proper role of the individual in society. I'm obviously dependent, in that the machine I operate, the gear I carry, the food I eat, and the infrastructure I use are all gifts of the great mass of people around me, but nonetheless I am personally and directly involved in the direction I am moving to the fullest possible extent. It is not the fastest or the easiest mode of transportation, but that's okay. Taking a trip by bicycle isn't just about getting where you want to be, since that is absurd when compared with how much easier other options are. Instead, the bicyclist, whether it is his original goal or not, is forced to view the trip as itself a worthwhile endeavor. This might be because it is enjoyable, or because it feeds back on the traveler, changing him as well as transporting him, or for some other reason. But whatever the reason to take a trip by bike, the fact that such a trip is selected demands that a reason exists.
I was planning on leaving at 5 AM so I could get to Gustavo's in the early afternoon. Instead, I managed to set my alarm for 4:45 PM, and woke up late at 6:20. The first stretches of the trip through Pasadena were easy, though, so I wasn't worried about getting a late start. Following Katherine's directions, I wound my way over to the River Trail, and made excellent progress through the early morning.
The GPS I carried was a mixed blessing. It made navigation much easier, saving me time and frustration that would have been spent on getting lost. But it also told me just how far (or how not-far) I had gone. At 9 AM it told me I'd gone only 25 miles in two and a half hours - a disheartening statistic. It might have been wrong, of course. Or I might have wasted more time than I thought pursuing a wrong turn once or twice. But because I could quantitatively compare my progress to my expectation, and because that progress didn't stack up, I felt daunted by the prospect of the remaining 75 miles when I got back on the bike after a ten-minute pee-and-stretch break. My back was already a bit sore, and now it looked like I'd be out all day, and maybe not even make it into Oceanside before Gustavo had to leave for the night shift at 5 PM.
Poor progress early on didn't alter the fact that the river trail was easy, quick riding, or that when I got to the PCH the wind was mostly to my back. Over the rest of the day, I repeatedly made better progress than I expected. And magically, my mood improved. It amused me how fickle my own emotions are, and how context-dependent. If I could just head into everything with the expectation it would suck, I'd probably be in constant bliss due to an unending stream of pleasant surprises. (I think this is why, when a blogger links me to a YouTube video of their favorite musical performance along with a glowing review, I never quite "get it". But when I stumble around aimlessly, it's once-in-a-while captivating. Alternatively, this is why a beautiful woman you see on the subway can leave a stronger impression than any number of models in the Victoria's Secret Fashion show.)
By the time I reached San Clemente, I was feeling so confident I didn't even consider taking the metrolink the rest of the way in. The last 40 miles were tougher riding - mild but consistent undulating hills - but I felt engaged, purposeful. My back was sore, but it was more a situation I was managing than a nuisance I was trying to deal with.
Only the last few miles through Oceanside really got to me. It was trying to navigate my way to Gustavo's place, climbing steep hills, and getting progressively more tired after not eating enough (I had food with me, but I just didn't eat enough of it). The six miles inside Oceanside itself seemed absolutely interminable, but at last Gustavo was there shaking my hand, and mercifully, talking about the food he had ready.
I came in just about 3 in the afternoon, making for an 8.5 hour, 100 mile ride. Though exhausting, it was also invigorating just to know "I can do this if I want." It does, however, also send the message, "I can do this if I want, and I can get away without training beforehand," which is not the best thing to tell myself. But I think I was sufficiently humbled by the difficulty of the last hour that it'll be a while before I leap into something so rashly again.
Goose and I got to see just a little of each other, since he had to leave for work a couple hours later, but just the respite of a comfortable place to stay was huge relief.
The next morning I finished the 35 miles or so to the hotel where I met up with my parents. This was a much tougher ride, since I gained and lost the same hundred feet of elevation many times leading up to and going through La Jolla. But I was an old pro now, at least in my mind. I also didn't mind at all when people blew past me, since I got an early start, and there was no rush.
Biking Pasadena - San Diego
Providian Relay 2009 with the JUICE
Rain can make me miserable. Not for a training run, but for a race, I'm already feeling a little anxious and on-edge. Then when I go all day never getting totally dry or warm I seize the opportunity to grumble about something. That's how I know that Providian was a great time - it was raining and muddy the whole way, and I barely even noticed.
Ogliore recruited me for The Juice: Terror in Meatspace at the Providian Relay.
I was worried because of the mild strain/aching in my hamstring, but it held up well and the relay was great fun. We each ran three legs, totaling 200 miles between the twelve of us. My actual running felt choppy and labored all the time, and the 6-7 mile stretches felt long, but I held up okay.
I only knew about half the team beforehand, but I got to meet all the runners as we went along. A few things that I think made the day work well were:
- The men on our team were reasonably close in ability, and so were the women. There was no worrying about if "that one guy" was going to totally bomb. On the other hand, the legs were all very different and there was no trying to one-up each other. The result was we had a mentality of a single unit.
- We started in the back and continually caught teams (I passed maybe 10 runners on my middle leg, which was typical for the team. I think Jesse and Katherine both passed in the 15-20 range during a leg.) That kept us feeling like were were on a sort of a mission. It was different than running an race from scratch and trying to hold someone off or catch them up. We weren't focusing on any single competitor. The nature of the competitors (a different group of teams every leg) meant we couldn't focus on them. We were basically forced to focus on our own running.
- Ryan's eclectic mix tape.
- The relay was pretty well-organized. I only had one moment of confusion about the course (at the intersection of Henry Road and Henry Lane), and nobody on the team got lost. The bathrooms were decent by my standards, the course was generally challenging, interesting, and scenic.
- The atmosphere was friendly. The vans stopped by the side of the road always cheered, and everyone was full of smiles at the exchanges.
- The JUICE is a very cool crew.
- Running is fun.
Thursday, April 30, 2009 (30am, 30pm)
I took off Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday because my upper hamstring was sore. I guess I strained it mildly, but last night I also discovered a large bruise on that leg. It's on the inside of my thigh, so it's relatively hidden from view, and I hadn't noticed it before. I'm not sure when it appeared, and I'm at a loss to think of a traumatic incident in the recent past that could have caused it. It's about 10cm from the general location of the pain I'm feeling, so while I don't have any particular reason to believe they're connected, it is possible.
Both runs felt fine. I'm feeling the soreness in this muscle mostly when I sit still for an hour, then get up, or occasionally when I take a long stride or do something else that might stress my hamstring a little bit.
I hope that I'll be fine through the relay this weekend. I'm almost certain I'll make it through the first leg with no problems, but I don't know whether running 6:00 pace will aggravate the problem. That's what makes life worth living though - the mystery of the great unknown!
Weekly Summary: April 20-26, 2009 (550 minutes, 1 tempo workout)
I was a little hampered this week by a small pain in my left leg where the hamstring and glutes connect. I had been feeling a little soreness there going into Friday. My plan was to ignore it, so I did 100 minutes, jumping in with Jason and Miles on some 200's at the end. They weren't very fast, but still I was significantly more sore the next day. I ran through it on Saturday, figuring it was most likely a little niggling thing that would get better as long as I didn't aggravate it with workouts. On Sunday, though, it started to bother me enough that I cut the NFTC run short.
My tempo was pretty good this week, but I didn't get in the steady state that I would have done on Saturday or Sunday.
The plan for next week is to take Monday off, then run just as much as feels totally comfortable. I promised Ryan I'd do the Providian relay next weekend, so I need to do everything I can to be healthy going into that.
April 23 - 25
Saturday April 25 (60 am, 45 pm)
There's a slight pain or soreness in my left leg, right where my hamstrings come up and attach to my butt. I kept it easy, and I guess I'll keep doing so until this particular little thing passes.
Friday April 24 (100 minutes)
Ran on the south field, jumping in for a couple 200's with Jason and Miles right at the end.
Thursday April 23 (30 am)
Skipped the afternoon run, and so just got in a little recovery jog.
April 14-22
My computer finally came back from the shop today. Technically, they shouldn't even have repaired it, since I decidedly caused the malfunction by pouring water all over the keyboard. (Don't ask me why, okay? I was just curious.) But when I called tech support, as I just kept saying, "I don't know, man, it just, like, won't turn on or something. There's this one little light thingy here, what should I do about that?" And, since I spilled water, not pomegranate juice, there was no real way to distinguish the damage from a genuine part failure.
So, in the time span since the last update, I've forgotten what I did, exactly. I'll work backwards and see how much that jogs my memory.
Wed April 22 (2x3200m tempo, 10:52, 10:32)
Original goal was 2x3200 in 11:00, 10:40. When I got to the track, the heat, along with a long day yesterday and a mediocre workout earlier this week, got me rethinking and aiming for 11:00, 11:00. I thought it was better to shoot a little low, especially now that I'm just resuming workouts and building up some fitness.
I hit the first lap in 79 and the first mile in 5:23, and so decided to consciously slow down, since I had another repeat to go. I ran the second mile in 5:28, feeling pretty relaxed, for 10:52. The nice thing was that two miles felt short, and the one lap recovery jog was luxurious.
I went out too fast on the second one, doing about a 78 on the first lap, then coming through one mile in 5:17. Briefly, I thought I should slow down to run the originally-intended pace. But then it occurred to me, "what the fuck is wrong with you?" I felt fine, and was half way through already. I might as well finish the run up strongly. The final mile was the toughest, but not absolutely brutal. I hit 5:15 for a 10:32 3200.
Nice workout. It felt disciplined. I was choppy at times, but always got my composure back and stayed focused. AM swim/aquajog with Julie
Tuesday April 21
100 minutes on the infield, a bit with Kangway. Kept the pace easy, but still wound up pretty beat by the end of it all. AM swim/aquajog with Julie.
Monday April 20
30 am, 70 pm
Sunday April 19 (4xarroyo tempo)
Planned on an arroyo tempo in which I didn't worry about the times I was running. I hit laps of 9:28 || 9:10 || 9:22 || 9:43, or something like that. I felt pretty bad, really. I never got into any sort of the rhythm, and the second lap was already uncomfortable. I got a cramp on the last one and had to work hard just to finish it off. Not a bit psychological booster, but nonetheless I was glad to get out on the trail and put some sort of work in, anyway. It was also very hot out that day, which may have contributed to the general cruddiness. PM 30 min jog NFTC.
Saturday April 18
Don't recall. Shit, I don't have any idea at all what I did this day. There was no meet. I must have just masturbated a whole lot.
Friday April 17
I really should have updated closer to the fact. Probably I was just running some minutes, but I don't know quite what.
Thursday April 16
Same as Friday
Wednesday April 15
Same as Thursday. Basically, I know I ran twice most of these days, and when I didn't run twice I ran at least 90 minutes. So there's a good chunk of volume in here, and no workouts.
Tuesday April 14
Same as Wednesday.
My guess is that for the week of 4/13/09 - 4/19/09 I wound up with a 550 or 600 minutes, and one really nice workout (8000m tempo in 27:38 on Monday) and one workout that I just barely got through (4xarroyo tempo on Sunday).
Monday, April 13, 2009 (8000m tempo 27:38)
I ran into Kangway in the locker room, so we ran together. I did a five mile tempo on the track, planning on hitting 5:40 pace, although I wasn't completely sure I'd be able to do that without overextending. The recent race at PP sapped my confidence. As it turned out, 85's felt very easy, and I wound up average closer to 5:30 pace. It felt great, really. It wasn't an easy workout - I had to work hard to keep my concentration up over the last 2400 or so, but it stayed in the tempo range the whole time, and I did not feel drained afterwards. Having Kway there for miles 1, 3, and 5 helped a lot as well. Jason and John happened to be working out at the same time, so we did a 300 together at the end. It was going great untilnwe went into the last 100 and Jason magically accelerated away from me, and then Kangway came past on my outside and blew me away as well. Thy both ran 42, so a barefoot 43 is not so bad.
Weekly Summary 4/5 - 4/11/09 (540 minutes)
After a bad week last week, this one was okay. I want to start with some light workouts next week, mostly tempo. I think that if I can start to see indisuptable evidence that my finess is improving, there will be a positive feedback effect on my attitude towards training. Today (sunday) I did 80 minutes, with the last 15 or so pretty quick. I have a sort of dull pain on the outside of my right foot to watch out for, brought on by lots of running on stones and stuff yesterday.
For next week, the training elements I want to get in are:
A relaxed tempo, maybe 4-5 miles at 5:40 pace on the track.
A steady state, maybe 4 Ian tempo loops at whatever pace comes
A long run of 95-100 minutes
Total volume a little higher than last week.
Friday and Saturday, April 10, 11 2009
Friday: 30 minutes jogging in the morning
Sat: 90 minutes in the hills behind Whittier. When I got on top the second hill, I could see out over the next valley. By thrusting my arms out before me, it was as if I held the entire world in my hands. And then I took it and squeezed, crushing that depraved world in disdain. But an epiphany! I realized then that no, I hadn't crushed the world. In fact, I had never been truly holding it - it was mere illusion, or delusion, resulting from the way I had been concentrating so hard I had one eye closed, and therefore lacked the depth perception to recognize that the houses and streets and things were way, way further away than my palms, and were not super-dooper tiny. Damn. Bad for me, good for the thousands of miniature people whose livelihoods were narrowly spared obliteration in my unrelenting grasp.
Then I tacked on an extra 30 with Matt and John M., mostly because I was invited and wanted to seem cool.