Well, I’ve officially survived the first two days of camp. That statement doesn’t come with the full sense of pride it might have, had not been sandbagging (coach’s orders) the first few workouts. Coach Paul and I decided that since I would be coming off not only the full day of travel, but also recovering from some annoying bug I managed to catch last week, that easing me into the full camp training load was the “smart decision”. I hate smart decisions. Even when I know they are right. . .which is one of the primary reasons I need a coach. However, I must admit that even this “soft opening” has been pretty tough!
Saturday we rode in near gale force winds, cramming in as many long climbs as possible. I had the choice of riding on my own, but let’s be honest—sending me out solo and mapless in a new place is a recipe for disaster. So, while my training partners were working the hills, I kept it nice and steady, HR in check, though with the speed their jerseys were vanishing off into the distance, I’m pretty sure I’m screwed as soon as my “travel legs” excuse wears off. I skipped the last climb and headed in for a mellow 40’ T run—the sense of relief far outweighing the jealousy that I was missing out on the race pace effort the rest of the crew was gutting out on the nearby track.
Sunday was an aerobic 90’ run, and I got dropped like a bad habit once we hit the hills. It was less the uphills and more the downhills that were the problem. Time for a lesson in leg turnover! Fortunately, “Mean Coach Lance” (as he’s requested we call him) was there on the mountain bike to give me just that advice. After a bit of R&R, which on this particular morning stood for rest and rice crispies, it was off to the pool for a 5k swim with a 10 x 400 main set. Love it! Whew. If this is easing in, I'm excited to see what the month has in store.