Alright. It is settled. My dear friend has (inadvertently) laid down the challenge. She says, "I signed up for the Memorial Day Triathlon in Elma". This is what I hear: "You are too weak and frail from your recent bout of flu and bronchitis to race. You probably would have to walk most of the run anyway you are so woefully out of shape, and since you haven't been in the pool since last year, you might drown, so just pump up my tires please, bring your camera, and try not to get in the way." GRRRRRRRR. It's Venus and Mars.
Yes, it is settled. Counting tomorrow, I have eleven days to train. Eleven? I can't even schedule a taper with less than two weeks, and all I can really do is get good and sore in that time, not really get in any semblance of race shape. Who am I kidding?
Yeah, so what, gotta start somewhere. Lucky for me it's a sprint and not an Ironman. 300 meters in the water, a 13 mile bike and a measly little 3 mile run. Hey, I WON this race just three years ago! Sleepwalking I can win my age group. Right. Get a plan.
The Plan: Since I am still hacking up occasional toxins, I need to start slow. An easy 5K in the park. Followed by a trip into town on the bike Thursday and a visit to the pool on Friday after my visit to CT HQ. Saturday will repeat, and with regular stretching and additional vitamin and protein intake, I should be fine. TAKE IT SLOW. Drink lot's of water and monitor your "progress". This is supposed to be fun. Try to curb your gigantic ego and start using the empty cup. This time it will include strength, yoga and pilates. Ramp it up slowly.
And schedule a massage from Tamara for the day after the race.
This should be fun, like finishing my third Vineman in 1999 (after a two week virus induced taper). Mars, out.
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