Wednesday, February 4, 2009


Found out something very interesting yesterday...

After a very, grueling (well, it was for me anyway) 14-miler that I turned into an 11-mile run, I was quite tired. Saying I bonked on that run would be an accurate depiction.

Upon further review, I think it was a nutrition problem. Having the kids home from school on Monday threw me off my game. Between hanging out, running around and general tom-foolery with them all day -- I realize (now of course) that 3 pieces of pizza (it was WHEAT crust Meredith!!) and a small Schlotzscky's (however the hell you spell that...) sandwich and maybe, MAYBE, 4 glasses of water is not really enough to:

(a) reload after a 50/3.5 brick on Saturday and a 16-mile run on Sunday
(b) prepare for 5:30am 14-mile run on Tuesday

Not. Even. Close.

I was tired when I woke up at 4am for breakfast....was *this* close to just going back to bed and running later, but since the kids were out of school Tuesday also, it was going to need to be then or never. So up I went.

Needless to say, the run SUCKED A$$. I took only 1 Gu at mile 7 -- so that probably didn't help matters. I made a deal with myself (you know how my conversations go....) that I could cut the route short BUT had to keep running. NO WALKING. Inked that deal and turned the 14 into 11 and called it a day.

Played with the boys and their friends all day until it was time to head to core. I was still very, very tired. I ate pretty well during the day, but just couldn't seem to get my energy level up. How the hell was I going to get through the night's core and spin? I had no idea.

Arrived at core with Mo and was fine with all the upper body and ab stuff.....but just couldn't get my legs to respond to the death lunges, frog jumps or any of the other lower body stuff. Seriously. Just Pathetic.

Got on my bike, woefully, and tried to warm up. Legs. Dead.

I motioned to Mo who was wandering the aisles doing his coaching thing. I said, "Mo. My legs are toast." I'm sure I looked just pitiful, begging for someone to put me out of my misery.

He replied, "You're here. Just spin out the legs easy for 30 minutes. Drink your recovery drink while your spinning. That's it."


So, I sat. And spun. (Spinned? Span?) I warmed up with the group. Coach Charles called out some cadences and gears. I figured I'll just follow along at maybe 1-2 easier gears and get this 30 minutes done, go home, lick my wounds and live to fight another day.

"Pick it up to 110" So, I picked it up to 110.

"Big chain ring, 2 gears from the outside. Stand it up. Let's go" I geared down, stood up, and went.

"Right leg only" Clicked out the left. Right oval. Right oval. Right oval.

He kept calling out the workout. I kept going.

Lo and behold I was 45-minutes in, had a good sweat going when Mo reappeared by my side. "How's it going?"

"Not bad, actually?! I feel ok!"

"Thought you might." And he left as quietly as he had come.

I ended up finishing the whole workout! I was definitely tired, but not kneeling on death's door as I had felt previously.

WTH? What kind of coaching mojo to coach

Turns out that for me, maybe it's the fear of failing that's worse then actually failing.

Mo gave me the permission to fail, so then it wasn't so crucial whether I failed or I just let that go and gave it my best effort. And Voila! Go figure.

Damn, he's good. Thanks Maurice. Thanks T3.

1 comment:

Maggie said...

even when you think you're not doing your best, I still think you're a badass!

I too have nutrition problems, I didn't eat enough after we spun, span, last night. I woke up at 3:48am starving!