I haven’t come up with a formal training schedule to replace the half-marathon training. My next event is a 10K on March 12th. I have a 5K in April, and then Bloomsday is the first Sunday in May. Although this is a very run-focused spring, I’m trying not lose my edge (if one can call it that) in triathlon.

I was antsy the first few days after the half-marathon. I didn’t do much on Sunday. I rode my bike home Monday evening, which means I rode it to work Tuesday morning. Somehow, that wasn’t enough. 🙄

I ran around the neighborhood Tuesday evening. The run felt good. My legs felt a little sore Monday, so the bike ride was a welcome “easy” workout. I didn’t push myself on the run Tuesday, so it felt pretty good, too.

I did nothing Wednesday. I wanted to go for a run, but since I’d just run the day before I figured I’d better give my legs a break. I ended up skipping my usual Thursday morning swim – some days, the extra hour of sleep does my body more good than a workout would.

I rode my bike home Thursday evening, and we went for a leisurely walk. I rode in to work Friday morning. I had the afternoon off, so I decided to make up the swim I’d skipped.

My plans for this weekend involved a bike ride and possibly a run or hiking Badger Mountain, on Saturday, getting up early enough for a swim Sunday morning, church, and then a dog transport Sunday afternoon. (The dog I’m transporting is a pit bull rescued from a backyard breeder; she’s headed to a pit bull rescue in Portland, OR.) The person to whom I was to deliver the dog in The Dalles was going to drive her to the Portland pick-up; she had to drop out of the run … something about having just given birth…?

I’d previously stated I could do the leg on either side of the one I’d signed up for, so I’m now driving the dog from Boardman to Portland. Because that means I’ll be spending most of the day away from home, I decided Saturday would be the day to get all my chores done. That meant no going for a bike ride or hiking Badger.

So I decided I should go for my run on Friday. If you know me, you know where this is headed…

At first, I thought I’d run ten km. Then I figured five miles would be enough. The first mile was, as usual, a grind; by mile two I knew there was no way I’d run five miles.

I was not pleased. I wasn’t wearing a heart rate monitor, but I’m confident my heart rate never got that high. My legs just weren’t up for the task. I couldn’t push myself through the suck. But it occurred to me that those legs had ridden my bike to work that morning, then swam 900 yards (including 250 yards of what I call Superman kicks – kicking without a kickboard: hands out in front, slight arch in the back). Those legs had every right to be cranky.

It’s now Saturday afternoon. The laundry is mostly done. The front walk is mostly weeded. Jim tilled the garden beds, so I planted a few things: beets, kohlrabi, peas, spinach, and lettuce.

Oh, look: my chores are mostly done, and the Gonzaga game comes on at six. How convenient!