That is about it. Cruising along in school, work and training. Had a high mileage week last week with 2 long runs (just worked out that way) and lots of other in between. I am going to start running bridge repeats, since the bridges to our island are the only source of elevation around here and I miss hill training. I really do miss rolling hills. Love, love, love the crazy triple A personalities I run with. Seems I am not living up to my full potential around here "only" training for marathons. Wish I were more motivated to sit on a bike, other than in spin classes at the gym. These runners are nuts.
I am still hanging with my nazi swim coach who spats commands at me, peppered with small words of encouragement, "You are almost getting better...now let's do some backstroke." I almost drowned, by the way, in that lesson. He is unlike any coach I have ever known. He almost seems a character out of a book, the mean and intimidating, dated mentor. He loves to tell me how "old school" my stroke is, which is funny considering how old his records are that stand and how new I am to this sport. Anyway, the hero of Vero, Lotta, the top ranked amatuer of triathlon fell doing hill repeats on her bike and shattered her collarbone. This is unfortunate for her race season, but more unfortunate for me: one less body at the workout to detract Coach Don's attention away from my poor technique. Lotta says she will heal in 8 weeks, but too late for the 70.3 Championships she should have taken no problem.
So, on we march. The heat is hot here. The ocean is 85 degrees. I am tired of always being sticky. I am living for October.
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