Well-Deserved Recovery

No big workouts to report today, not after this past weekend's mash-fest.  Instead I took care of myself with an early evening yoga class that left me dripping with sweat (still can't get that hand-stand!) followed by a long massage with David from LA Body Mechanics.  While the yoga class at Black Dog was a little more than I bargained for, the massage helped me drain the rest of the pain from my body.  Not without a fight though. My glutes, quads, adductors, calves and lower back were quite sore, though David said overall my body right now is in great shape.  That's reassuring given the intensity of the past few weeks and my lack of stretching. Turning away from my body for a moment, my real focus the next few days is going to be on the weather.  When we get a big shift like the one we've had in Southern California -- 90 degrees one day and rain the next -- my immune system goes straight down the toilet and I usually get pretty sick.  I'm hoping that all the training hasn't left me winded and incapable of fighting off another cold.  This leaves me torn as tomorrow morning I should have a long bike ride before work.  If it's rainy, damp and cold, I'll probably stay indoors and ride on the trainer for nearly two hours.  That could wreak havoc on my butt though, as I'm starting to get saddle sores.  I know, not the sexiest subject, but if you're sticking with me from the beginning of my training you should know the truth.

Ironman hurts.

Bad.

At this point in the training, expect to wake up in the middle of the night to eat.  Expect sores in uncomfortable places.  Expect to need food in the middle of work meetings or risk getting a headache.  And expect to need food soon after eating a hearty meal.  Expect to be sore in one place or another all the time.  Expect to pay for massage work every two to three weeks with two months to go until the race.  (I'm on a schedule with David now.)

And expect to be antsy to work out when you've had a couple light training days.  For all the bitching and whining about the training, it's addictive.

So while I'm recovering today, I'm already thinking about tomorrow.  And despite the volume of this past weekend, I feel pretty good.

Progress.  Every day a step closer to the final goal.  Every day a slight new victory. A new insight.  But it requires doing the extra work.

47 days and counting.