In classic style, my body is laughing it's butt off at me right now.
Saturday, I did a 3 hour solo ride--about 1 hour inside since it was so early and I'm a chicken when it's dark, and 2 hours on my own. Managed an easy 18.4 mph while keeping the watts at a nice and easy 127. Then did a 15 minute run, which, due to some poor nutrition on the bike (not enough calories!) SUCKED, but lesson learned, and I got it done. Then in the afternoon, did a 45 minute strength session and killed it.
Yesterday, had the day off. Spent it with my family and then relived a bit of my flannel-wearing grunge days by heading to the Stone Temple Pilots concert with Matt (which was really good!). Realized two things: 1) we were the youngest people there...huh? and 2) I really wanted to throw a sandwich at Scott Weiland (and hey! he's a fellow Clevelander, too!), but didn't out of fear that he'd just waste it by smoking and/or snorting it. I'm pretty sure I couldn't fit into that guys jeans.
Fast forward to today, and I just did my first run longer than 6 miles or so. The plan was 1:15-1:25 at a nice easy pace, and I did 1:14, only because HOLY CRAP my easy pace was fast today. And...drum roll...PAIN FREE! 8 miles, suckas. 8 miles with the last two at 9:04 and 9:02.
So even though my head hasn't been in the game, the body is. I'm working really hard on getting the head caught up, and I've made some progress there.
One foot in front of the other, and one day at a time. That's how I'm gonna get through this race and the next 20 somewhat insane days, as what I like to call my 6-month maternity leave comes to a close on Friday.