Tough Tuesday

I figured after a Mellow Monday that I'd have all kinds of energy to train today. False.

Maybe it was the sushi, tempura and teriyaki chicken I downed at 9 p.m. last night following yoga practice.  Causing me to pee at least three times that I can remember during the course of the evening (in the toilet, mind you). Maybe it was the delayed effects of my Sunday workouts.  Probably a combination of both.

Whatever it was, when I entered the pool this morning for our twice-weekly Fortius coached workout, I quickly realized I wasn't in top form.  I suppose the first indication of what was to come should have been the gauntlet of sprinklers that teammate Nico and I dodged to avoid being drenched in our sweats.  It was like a timing puzzle in a video game.

Inside the pool, I dragged almost from the get-go.  My lane's warm-up 400 was cut short -- probably because I was too slow!  From there, my teammates and I proceeded to slog through two sets of 400-yard sprints (100 build, 200 fast, 100 race).  This proved to be an especially frustrating experience.  Last week, I felt I had a breakthrough in technique that allowed me to swim faster.  In other words, I could keep up with the faster swimmers.

This morning, I was brought back to reality.  Both Ann and Jenna asked if they could pass me in between sets.  They might as well have said, "Dude, get back to the slow lane where you belong!"  I was holding them back. Not a good feeling, but I knew it was true.  And there wasn't much I could do about it at that point.  I was tired.

The rest of the hour-long session didn't go much better.  In fact, things degenerated to pure comedy at one point.  Megan, our swim coach and teammate, was trying to teach how to scissor kick.  Ann, Lisa and Jenna all knew how and were quite effortless.  I looked like I was being electrocuted, spasming wildly while trying to avoid swallowing loads of water.  Turns out that's especially difficult when everyone is laughing at you!

It became such a comical distraction that Megan sent me to my own lane.  Talk about a demotion!  I was sent to my "special place" for the rest of class, for private instruction on how to stay afloat while scissor kicking and gliding on my back.

I'm not sure what the point of all that kicking and bobbing was, but I do know it tired me out much more than expected.  When I came home after the workout, I crawled back into bed.  I was done with workouts for the day.  Cancel that 45-minute spin session.

I'm trying hard not to put much stock into today's debacle of a workout.  I'll chalk it up to fatigue and just needing a bit more rest.  After all, I did train two hours extra last week compared to what was scheduled.  And everyone has a bad performance every once in a while, right?  I  mean, as a Lakers fan, I just point to Kobe and what's going on in our playoffs right now. (BTW, I predicted the Lakers would win in six.  Now, I think they'll win in seven.)

Of course, nobody will compare me to Kobe, or in this instance, Michael Phelps.

I'm going to shake off today's practice and focus on tomorrow's brick workout.  I'll have had more than 24 hours rest and should be good-to-go.

211 days and counting.