Thursday, December 5, 2013

December 5 - Archer - Brick Hell!

It's all Jason's fault

Slow runner sign
Once I committed to Marcothon, there where two days that concerned me.  Today and Dec 15.  I work the evening shift at the library on Thursdays but I still go in mid morning to make up for some of the time from the long noon swims.  Jason socially twisted my arm so do the Serious Cyclist Spin Class from 6-7:15 am and we are 6 weeks into the torture.  Added to that, my first ever swim meet is coming up on the 15th so I have to get in the pool for lunch.  That left the only time for Marcothon miles was after the spin class.

Amy's spin class is just down right nasty hard. Today was no exception.  After a warm-up, we had 3 descending 12 minute sets with 6 minute recoveries.  Within the 12 minutes, 2 minutes harder gear at 90rpm, 4 minutes one easier gear down and same rpm, then 6 minutes one easier gear down and same rpm.  She expected us to be at RPE 10 (rate of perceived exertion) for 2m, then 8-9 for 4 min, then 8 for 6m.  Damn the scale, I was at the breaking point and it didn't let up during the work sets.  I have never worked so hard on a machine indoors.  Class over, dry workout clothes, home for 15 minutes, time for Marcomiles.

Marcothon minimum route turnaround
Flossmoor Public Library

Back to cold wind and teary eyes
In my mind, I figured it would be a brick workout. For triathlon, you do a brick workout by linking up two of the legs, swim/run or bike/run.  The minute I hit the pavement, I knew it felt realistic.  Nothing in the legs as it was all left on the bike.  Leg filled with sand were running on cinder block feet.  I smiled as I saw the playground sign and reinterpreted it to mean slow runner this way!  We have be quite spoiled for since Marcothon started with above normal temps.  Today was back to winter and the wind was cold while the air was damp.  From home to the Flossmoor Public Library is 1.6 mile, so it is the turnaround point for the minimum daily miles.  The festive decorations were out but lights were off.  Checked the stopwatch and it laughed back at me, slow as hell at 18 minutes.

The return route was right into the wind which made me cry all of the way home.  Tears down the face and draining into the nose.  The pace picked up a little according to the stopwatch, but I wasn't mindful of the pace.  My only thought was that there should be enough coffee in the coffee maker to warm up as soon as I make it in the house.
Signs were talking to me today

But another day checked off.  As the sign at my corner states, once to commit to doing the Marcothon, there really is no way out.