25 minutes easy pool time
35 minutes easy bike time
1 mile easy jog with the dog
Minus the romaine around smelling like chlorine part, this is the kind of triathlon I could get used to. The "no effort" kind.
The swim was fine. Lots of thinking. About how I suck at swimming. The bike was fine. Super easy because I'm still nursing my hip/butt muscle area. Plus, my training schedule had them marked out as "easy." Score.
I was only supposed to do the first two, but I was too lazy after the bike to put on warm clothes, and the dog had to be walked. I figured, if I jogged, I would stay warm outside. Weird lazy thought process, I know. But I'd rather be *this* kind of lazy than any other kind.
I get a HUGE kick when my dog does the "downward dog" stretch. Every time.
This next picture was supposed to demonstrate the three (THREE!) sweat drips running down my neck, then down my chest simultaneously. They are vampire sweat drips, though, not actualizing on camera, so it just looks like I'm showing off my invisible cleavage. And I'm posting it anyway, because why the hell not?
This one is to demonstrate that I ran. Yeah. Sometimes, when I'm moving pictures from my camera to my laptop I have a little, quiet, "WTF?" session with myself. Mostly I think I'm hilarious, though, so it all evens out.
Can we discuss my hair? Okay. I know that I look like a giant art school douche wad with the top knot, but I don't care, because it's the only way to pull my bangs out of my face without using a headband or little clips. As my bangs get longer, the bun will migrate back to a safe, librarian distance, and everyone will be happy.
Oh, then I tried to do pull ups. Well, I succeeded, but not how I wanted. My trainer says I should do three sets of two every day for a week, then try to do three sets of three, and so on. I'm going to assume my arms were tired from Tuesday, and tired from the swim, because my sets went: 2, 1, 1.
Mind you, I was nursing a slightly unhappy stomach because I had the genius idea of EATING while on the bike trainer. And every athlete knows that eating while working out is easy and leads to zero problems. I totally didn't get nauseated. Not at all.
So, I'm blaming my lackluster pull up debut to that.
Oh, these are pictures I was too lazy to pull off my camera on Tuesday.
Rolling out my hip/butt muscle with a tennis ball HURTS, but it's that good kind of hurt, like pulling out a nasty ingrown hair, or getting punched in the stomach for money.
And my butt. Some day I'm going to look back on this as either mortifying or liberating. Actually, that's a lie. I doubt in 20 years I'll look back on blog posts at all. I'll be living on the holodeck trying to convince Picard that earl grey tea is fucking gross. I can't handle the tannins.
Speaking of awesome things, well, it's Groundhog Day... again.