Brick Report

Beginning last night, I realized my appetite was not where it should be. By 8pm last evening, realized my that cumulative caloric intake was just over 700. Way off track, even with a mostly sedentary job.
So I made myself drink some Gatorade, eat some CHO, and hope body wasn’t lying.
Brick this morning. Consumed 1/2 PowerBar, 1/2 bottle of 2/3 Gatorade Endurance Formula w/ 1/3 water, mixed.
The ride went very well, with my newly minted and tuned up bicycle. Then came the run.
Oh Lord. The horror.
Dead legs, “emboldened” with concrete. Joyous day.
So after around 2 miles of the 7 mile run, things numbed up quite nicely, and pace picked up by about 3 minutes per mile.
Not too sure what the rest of the day beholds. We’ll have to make that up as we go alone.

Certain aspects are life are so clear, and possess such certainty, they almost become comical.
I am the redundancy of my lack of comfort at home. Every morning, every evening, the same dynamic of bitter relationships continues.
So now I just have to laugh. Its like playing Jenga. And when someone takes out the once piece that everyone knows will make the tower topple, we instinctively laugh to release tension.
So I have taken to laughing at the discourses.
Years from now, I know both I and my parents will reflect on these years, And even more than my clinical depression in 8th grade, and my solemnity of 2004, will be these tumultuous years of collegiate summer.
Don’t stop believing, and don’t stop moving.

I apologize for not blogging with the same sense of regularity as I have done in the past.
My bike is having its chain and cassette replaced, and an overall tune up.
If I were to write of anything which is of dire consequence, it would be the continued domestic struggle I face in my hometown.
My dog still loves me a lot, even though he is becoming very brittle in his senior years. He’s actually asleep at my feet now.

I need to thank this community. It had been nearly a year since I had completed a Tri. And I want to thank everyone who helps me, my tri-club; For the training they provide me with and the knowledge and support. My family; For accepting my insanity. (or so they allege)

Below are my splits for the Newburyport Triathlon


Swim: 20:01
T1: 1:37


Bike: 40:45
T2: 1:23


Run: 23:49

The Newburyport triathlon proved again to me, that this is a great sport, and more importantly, a great community.

On a level of one to ten, ten being maximal exertion, my tempo run today was bordering an eleven.
Ninety-three degrees, in open dirt pasture. I submit it is advantageous to pavement. Nevertheless, I enjoyed it thoroughly. Met a few cows, almost took a face-plant on the way out to the turn around.
Oxygen debt was present. Dear lord it was hot….
I never cursed, but I did pray a few times I would not expire.

At times, I find it hard to believe, that I have come this far.
I have pre-registered for triathlon, a sprint distance. I download the diections, the schedule, and print them all of, very organized and complete.
The schedule dictates, that I drive to specified location. I drive to the location, and to my astonishment, the parking lot is empty. Where is everyone? Where are the triatheles? The music, ANYTHING?
I am one week early.
Witness my stupidity.
The schedule was correct, I just never took the time to review the time and date. It is scheduled for July 22, not July 15. Brilliant, I am.
What to do, what to do with old Anthony.

Generally, I am a very idealistic person. Few things really boil my blood-few things.
Being around sedentary, unmotivated, and individuals completely devoid of ambition severly irritates me.
Witness my parents.
My day went very well, with my second run (yes, I'm gearing up for XC!) taking placing in a thunderstorm. Exhilirating, I say.
I get home, and immediately the attack begins. My father bellows comments about how "delicious" his happy meal at McDonald's was. He knows I haven't done fast food in many years now, and am a strict vegetarian.
Then their blood pressure (mother and father) escalates, and they become loud, given that they have already had 1-2 "drinks"
Finally, I just said "I'm done talking about this" And they just wouldn't keep prodding me, childishly, as to "why! why now?!"
I just walked away. For the first time in several months, I felt as if I wanted to put my hand through a wall. Note, this is highly atypical behavior for the author.
I've mellowed a bit since this period of vexation (hence my blogging).
God give me the strength to see clearly and be patient.

So I got in my run this morning. Which was alot of fun. Able to sustain a solid pace, albeit my fanieul hall expedition last night which absolutely rocked!
Then the summer came back: 91 degrees, for a scheduled 28 mile ride.
I can do this.
It went well, but as I sit here now, I am feeling less stiff, less sore, and quite honestly, less anxious than earlier today.
I was feeling quite irritable earlier. Maybe its that overtraining syndrome kicking in. No idea.
Anyways, I thought I'd leave you with a picture of my ride. I promised a friend I would take a pic of the ocean (She lives in Illinois). Well, I never got to the great scenic vista I had envisioned, but this picture I found to be quite gorgeous.
Cheers!

I think I may actually be getting acclimated to swimming. I never thought I would, but I'm certainly beginning to enjoy it alot more.
An open water swim today, with my brand-new wet suit, makes me happy.
I swam about 1,000m without the rubber suit.
Which was absolutely beautiful, like a bath tub.
Then I got into my suit, and had a blast. (See picture)
I'm learning ;-)

I’m a runner celebrating my independence. I run through the parades. I pass the cyclists with the yellow jerseys. I absorb the heat and the moisture as it becomes part of me.
I’m a runner who is running the day after his twenty-first birthday. Quite honestly, I’m running on bar appetizers and iced teas. After driving through the night to arrive back home.
Quite honestly, I have not remained in contact with many of my earliest peers. Junior High, High School etc. Now and then, I remind myself of the importance of seeing them, so I make a concerted effort, to do so.
But despite these efforts, I find I am vastly dissimilar from them. I miss my running friends, my marathon crew, and others. These are the closest to me – Psychologically and physically. They understand me. They know me like the sister or brother I have never had. We have shared many things together, and despite our independent ways, the warm and fond memories, push me through even the hardest of days. Thank you.

Two good days in a row.
Disclaimer: This post may be both reflective, and assertive.

I felt great this morning. Long run scheduled. 17-18 miles, as it was on trail. I approached it, thinking that I would be able to instantly recall this same race course from last January, the “Fat Ass 50k”. It is a rugged course, plagued with large rocks, and several steep, short hills. Truly tests ligamental strength and tendon flexibility. Great time, despite forgetting hydration.
I realized late yesterday, and earlier today, that I truly detest loud people, and loud things. I find that peopl e who are in fact loud, feel the incessant urge to control you, or the given situation, acting as a child as they proclaim and annunciate their beliefs and contentions, in the most vociferous methods.
Maybe its just me, but I prefer quietness and solitude, as opposed to busy hustle.
One final thought: As aforementioned, I was extremely lost this morning. Nevetheless, I ran about 3 miles on open, country road, with a beautiful landscape of crop and farm on my left and right.
“There was something in the country, he said he couldn’t see; There was something in the city, he said he couldn’t breathe”