Carlos and I meet at the town center as planned and rode to Las Olas using route #2 and then to Boca via A1A. Carlos wanted add some variety so we used route #1 to get back to Weston. Got lost for a little while doing loops around the airport but finally managed to find our way out. I find Griffin to be a bit bike-friendlier than Broward Blvd as well as a little more complicated to connect to/from Las Olas.
At 6:30 am the day started dark and cool. But it soon warmed up as we rode with the sun right in front of our eyes.
As they ride progressed, the sun seemed to turned from a welcomed friend to somewhat of a foe. Its dual personality was soon revealed to us. It became like a satanic combustion engine expelling its infernal heat with cruelty roasting any exposed portion of skin. It must have been on a bright day like this that God finally decided to create the colors dyeing the skies with all sorts of hues of blue. Let me tell you, there is something about bright sunshiny days and fine moods. As if the two were married having [on] and [off] days.
It was hot indeed, yet the hotter and the more sweat poured down my whole body, the more determined, exuberant, and energetic I felt. I had been out on the bike with Carlos before. I know he likes to go hard. Luckily he wasn't feeling that good the first 3 hours of our ride which allowed me to maintain a pace where I felt comfortable. However, that didn't last the whole day. Suddenly he became another person. As we approached 3.5 hours of actual ride time, we started interchanging the lead. Whenever he took it, he really made me work hard; as he usually does. Back on South Post I could feel every fiber in my legs screaming out --OUCH!
We finished with 4.5 hours of actual riding time for 85 miles. Today, a day after, I'm still somewhat sore.
It was a very good ride. I hope to continue doing it on Sundays. It would be nice if we can get a group of about 5 people for next Sunday.
Ray.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Here we go again.
I hadn't run 16 miles since my last-first-and-only marathon in 2003. Ever since I checked-mark the 26.2, I've stayed at my favorite
distance: the 10k and 21k (half-marathon) which are abundant from October thru February in this part of the world.
Regarding the 26.2 –Well… been there, done that, and have the hardware to prove it. After that, I swore not to run that [never-ending] distance ever again. But now, and please don't ask me how, I was peer-pressured into registering for a full IM.
I'm somewhat of a loafer-procrastinator-excuser, so in that line, I always find some fair justification to cut the training short. Avoiding to perform becomes an art form. When it calls for 14 miles, I might run 13. If it calls for 20 intervals, I might cut it at 18. When it calls for 5 hrs on the bike, I'll probably ride for 4.5 hrs.
You know that the appointment is now rapidly approaching when the IM training calls for 16 miles for this last Saturday. I felt an ominous calling of sorts. Luckily, I got an invitation to run with Terri's group. They start in the darkness of the night at 5:00am with a 6 miles loop around Weston that ends at the starting point where more people join for an additional 10 miles. From a logistics point of view; --very simple.
I was awoken at 4:00 am with what seemed like a vague-fainting alarm clock, that just happened to be right next to me. Got up to look out the window. Forget this --this is for the birds. Only drunk teens and blood sucking bats are out at this time of the morning… but I felt the compromise. You see, I'm also a team player. I know how to take one for the team, and Terri had sent me a note expressing that she'd
be waiting for me that morning. So there I found myself wondering why in the world I'd leave my warm-cozy bed while in my deepest state of unconsciousness only to inflict punishment on my drowsy and stiff body.
But just like in any western movie, it all had a good-honorable-happy ending. I don't think I would've run that distance, if it wasn't because I ran with a group. Not only did I run the 16 miles, to be honest, it wasn't all that bad.
distance: the 10k and 21k (half-marathon) which are abundant from October thru February in this part of the world.
Regarding the 26.2 –Well… been there, done that, and have the hardware to prove it. After that, I swore not to run that [never-ending] distance ever again. But now, and please don't ask me how, I was peer-pressured into registering for a full IM.
I'm somewhat of a loafer-procrastinator-excuser, so in that line, I always find some fair justification to cut the training short. Avoiding to perform becomes an art form. When it calls for 14 miles, I might run 13. If it calls for 20 intervals, I might cut it at 18. When it calls for 5 hrs on the bike, I'll probably ride for 4.5 hrs.
You know that the appointment is now rapidly approaching when the IM training calls for 16 miles for this last Saturday. I felt an ominous calling of sorts. Luckily, I got an invitation to run with Terri's group. They start in the darkness of the night at 5:00am with a 6 miles loop around Weston that ends at the starting point where more people join for an additional 10 miles. From a logistics point of view; --very simple.
I was awoken at 4:00 am with what seemed like a vague-fainting alarm clock, that just happened to be right next to me. Got up to look out the window. Forget this --this is for the birds. Only drunk teens and blood sucking bats are out at this time of the morning… but I felt the compromise. You see, I'm also a team player. I know how to take one for the team, and Terri had sent me a note expressing that she'd
be waiting for me that morning. So there I found myself wondering why in the world I'd leave my warm-cozy bed while in my deepest state of unconsciousness only to inflict punishment on my drowsy and stiff body.
But just like in any western movie, it all had a good-honorable-happy ending. I don't think I would've run that distance, if it wasn't because I ran with a group. Not only did I run the 16 miles, to be honest, it wasn't all that bad.
Reinaldo.
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