The brick.

It’s really f’ing hot. If yesterday’s workout didn’t extract every tiny bit of moisture from my cells, today’s did the rest. Like the laundry washers of old, wringing out every last drop of water until I fart dust and cry salt.

I didn’t get electrolyte tabs yesterday, so today’s plan couldn’t be four or five hours long. I’m still on an HMO and I think they classify back to back days like that a pre-existing condition and would deny my ambulance ride. I did squeeze in a two hour brick, mostly to push my ride-to-run transition. The next week will see a few more mini-bricks just to condition the legs to changing from the bike to the run smoothly.

Last year I had no clue what was waiting for me. I was only doing a sprint distance and didn’t really train very sensibly. The moment I came off the bike coming into the T2 area was illuminating. Ridiculous, actually. I couldn’t walk. My inner leg muscles were cranked up so tightly I was hobbling along the bike racks like John Glenn and Alan Shepard in the enema scene from the Right Stuff. For Boise, I’m working to train myself to get the legs loose and relaxed in the last mile before the transition, mentally focus on the next leg activity so there’s at least some mind-body connection prior to the actual change, and actually doing it over and over in varying lengths just to condition myself to the process.

Doesn’t that sound good? Like writing it makes it easier.

Today I did a speedy 1 hr on the bike in the morning heat along the beach. Had to scream at a moron who had two dogs on retractable leashes and was on a cellphone so one of the dogs had stretched its leash across the whole path. I bellowed “PULL IN YOUR DOG!” and she got very angry, more so as I yelled “HANG UP AND CONTROL YOUR DOGS!” I love how indignant people get when you scream common sense at them. Because you know when her schnauzer garrotes me she may have to hang up the phone to call 911. That’s a big assumption. I don’t know that my severed head would merit ending a call.

By 10:30 am as I came back home there was a pack of cyclists blocking the gate exit, so one more session of yelling, though politely,  “DON’T BLOCK THE GATES! DON’T BLOCK THE GATES!” When you’re going 25 mph it’s amazing how slowly people act. Though my appearance may cause a shock delay in penetrating the blood-brain barrier. Perhaps they’re just frozen by a crazy, mustachioed, weirdo yelling at them from 50 yards.

Hopped off the bike, opened the garage, stowed the bike, ran upstairs, shoveled a few tablespoons of yam-munch down the gullet, grabbed my Endurox bottle, got into my shoes and hat and out the door in three minutes. Was running back to the bike path lickety-split.

And no pain! The heat was my enemy today, draining the energy out of my body like a mynock. I also had a time deadline, in that we had a yoga workshop at 1 pm. I managed to get in a 5 mile run, which I can call pathetic because I dragged my ass home on the return route.

The vegetarians are a single letter off: heat is murder.

At some point in the near future I’ll present a longer rant about helmets. I am of two minds about people not wearing helmets. On one hand, let them self-terminate. On the other, it’s bad modeling. My Darwinian attitude wants them to get into accidents and die before they can spread their genetic material. But when I see parents riding with their kids, and the kids don’t have a helmet, I want to take a baseball bat to mom and dad. It’s against the law for a minor to ride without a helmet. I’m also pissed at the roadies who eschew helmets. Any experienced rider is a role model for kids. If the kids see their parents don’t wear helmets they won’t wear them. If the kids know their parents are idiots (and just look at them – their parents are totally idiots) and see professional or pro “looking” cyclists not wearing helmets, it validates their wrong assumption that it’s safe. I wear a helmet by LAS and I look like an evil Stegosaurus.

WEAR A HELMET. BRAIN DAMAGE IS WAY LESS SEXY THAN HELMET HAIR.

Or, we could pass laws that allow us to harvest the organs of cyclists who get into accidents without helmets. Compulsory, punitive organ donation – I think I’m on to something!

Yes, there’s an even longer rant on this coming. This was the short version because I just came back from a two hour workshop and this is me at f’ing peace with the universe.

Notes: 1hr ride:17 miles, 1hr run:5 miles. 2 hours yoga/meditation.

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3 responses to “The brick.

  1. Agreed. Of course, I won’t allow my son to run and he must be encased in at least 30cm of bubble wrap before leaving the house.

  2. Also: Can I ask a favour? As a sedentary, chip-eatin’, TV-watchin’ fan of your blog, can you define any jargon more explicitly? I think I got what a “brick” is, but I would like some easy defenitions if at all possible. Just a thought.

  3. An excellent idea for a post!

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