Limbo.

So I'm still wavering about the whole "to race or not to race in Racine" bit.

We spectated at the Bigfoot Triathlon over the weekend and it was bittersweet. I had that internal twinge where I really, really, really wanted to be racing and was jealous of all my friends and training mates who were out killing the course. But on the flip side, I was relieved that I wasn't out there, too. It was a very weird sensation.

But I think I have a plan that will allow me to take a bit of downtime and still be primed to race a 70.3 this season. I'm working on getting my ducks in a row, getting the hubby and coach aligned with it (note to self, talk to The Punisher) and doing a bit of soul searching to REALLY determine if it's the right move for me this season or if I should just pack up shop and spend the rest of my summer laying in the sun with a margarita and book in hand. The prospect of this new racing option makes me happy, assuming I garner the right support.

The past 2 weeks have been a bit laid back on the training front and I can't lie...it's felt good. Really good. It's nice to not be ravenously hungry all the time and feel exhausted at my desk in the afternoon. Yesterday I swam a mile in a chop that felt like I was swimming uphill through moleasses. At least it made for a quick return trip to short. Tonight will bring a quick run along the lakefront since the temps are topping out in the low 70's. I figure some more solo training days will really help me sort out all the demons in my head with this season.

I still have a half marathon in a month, so I'm working on shifting my focus to that temporarily and trust that all the pieces will fall together as they should.

Burnt out.

There's no other way to say it.

I...am absolutely...and completely burnt out right now.

This morning we rode the Racine 70.3 course and tacked an hour-long run on the end. By mile 18 I may as well been cycling backwards. It took every ounce of effort to fight back the tears and hold it together. Heat, headwind and hills (I don't remember this bloody course having any climbing...what the eff is up with that?) ate me alive and I had a pity party, table for one.

When I rolled up to the aid station at mile 21, I proclaimed I was done. I had mentally checked out. I had resolved to either riding the 21 miles back, or sitting with the Chief of Pain in the middle of a corn field and crying until he drove me back to start. Gina, Sandy and crew would have none of that (thanks, by the way). So I sucked it up...fought off some demons, and did everything I could to keep turning the pedals. It wasn't pretty. And my glasses got a little fogged up from some tears. But some how I made it through.

Before the run the Punisher could tell I was in a sour spot. I really just wanted to be left alone to run it off on my own...me and the sound of my own foot falls. And it ended up being the most heinous transition run I've done in a really long time. I'm talking a 12 minute + pace. It was upwards of 90 degrees, minimal shade and paired with my bad mental attitude it all led to inevitable disaster.

The two highlights of the day? An insanely delicious burger of awesomeness from local Wisconsin treefort joint Georgie Porgie's and substituting an ice bath with a soak in the icy clear waters of Lake Michigan.

When I step back and look at it, I've spent the better part of the last 16 months training for long-course in some facet. Don't get me wrong. I love training. I usually enjoy long days (what? go spend 5 hours on a bike and throw a 10k off the back end?! Sounds like a good breakfast to me). But for some reason, I am in a massive funk right now.

It's not like the volume of work is breaking me. This 70.3 plan pales in comparison to what I did last year. I'm just mentally...not feeling it...for lack of better words.

I shouldn't have mixed feelings about this. But I do. I honestly don't know if I want to race long-course tri this season. And it's frustrating for me to have such uncertainty.

I want to be jazzed about this race. I want to go out, have a great day, post a great time, and see the rewards of my training the past few months (and the likelihood of me having a great day once I commit is high). But if my head isn't in it...should I really dish out a few hundred in a race entry? I have a hard time justifying it all right now. It's all so very fuzzy. And all I can really attribute it to is being severely burnt out...

...burnt out with less than a month to go for the planned race day.

Who knows. Maybe I'll wake up in a few days, win the lottery and be singing a different tune.

But right now in this moment, all I want to do is go for a long run and try to sort out all this nonsense.

Sigh.

Stay tuned to see what happens...

Because sometimes this are just took ridiculous not to share...Chicago Naked Bike Ride

The Annual Chicago Naked Bike Ride.

A peaceful, albeit nekkid, protest against the use of crude oil and BP...all while celebrating the beauty of the human body.

But in reality...I'm not convinced that most of these folks should've been parading around with the jiggly bits in the air, but whatever. More power to 'em.

Canned Heat in my Heels...

I'm going to keep this short and sweet...

For the first time ever, I ran a sub-8:20 mile last night. By some miracle, I pulled a 7:47 virtually out of no where, with a negative split, no less. And all my 400's ended up being descending...starting at 1:57 with the fastest at 1:47. Perhaps later this year I'll try and go for a new 5k PR running sub-8's? We'll see.

Absolute madness, I tell you. Let's just hope this was no accident.

But I'm still in shock. And glowing as a result.

I am just so glad I am no longer one of those people who can only run at one speed and know how to effectively do track workouts.

Ignorance is Bliss.

The one thing I love about using workoutlog.com with my coaches is that I know exactly what's coming. I know that on Tuesday I have to throw down 3.5 painful miles of speedwork on the track. Wednesday is swim until your arms fall off. Thursday is a midweek bike-run craziness. There are no surprises.

Well. Usually.

Saturday morning's schedule said two things:

20 minute bike test.

15 minute transition run.

Traditionally, our bike tests are on the CompuTrainer. Watts are measured. Heart rate is logged. And all is well with the world.

But we knew this wasn't true. Earlier in the week we were told "change of plans...show up at Montrose with your bike and your running shoes and be ready for anything."

Really? REALLY? I don't bode well with the unknown.

Friday night I text the Punisher.

What do we need to bring tomorrow!?!?

To which she replied to chill out and bring stuff to bike and run...then reassures me that the workout isn't bad and that it won't take very long.

I stupidly think we're getting an easy day. I mean...it's the long weekend and all! We've got some drinking to do somewhere.

So in the morning we pull up...

Bright-eyed. Bushy-tailed. And stupidly fooled.

We start with a quick warm up on the bike.

No problem.

Then we're told we're testing outside. With hard corners. Pedestrians. Cars. Twenty minutes of balls to the wall, zone 5Z, go as hard as you can and as fast as you can without dying.

OH. DEAR. LORD.

It hurt. A lot. I nearly got hit by a car. Had a few momentum killing moments where my speeds dropped from 18...19...20...down do 12. Dodged runners. Maneuvered my way around cars trying to park. All in all...it was a nightmare.

A very painful nightmare.

After the test came a transition run.

As expected.

A light easy jaunt and Gina and I thought we were finished.

That is until we crossed paths with the Chief of Pain waiting for us. We were nowhere near done.

Our legs were fried at this point. A ridiculous hard ride with a run thrown on the back end was enough for me for one day. And yet...here we were facing one of the things I hate to do the most.

Hill Repeats.

It's not that Cricket Hill is substantially steep or long. But it's just enough to really be pesky. Especially when the Chief is relentlessly beckoning you up and down over. and over. and over again. And when the Chief yells at you, you better be peeling off a respectable clip. But my legs wanted nothing to do with it...as usual.

With a fire in our lungs, we mentally wrapped up shop....and were then informed we were doing the "lower matrix."

Say whaaaaaaa? This bloody workout STILL isn't over?!

Squats. Lunges. Jumps. Over. and over. and over again.

And by the third circuit, I was over it all.

The general consensus was that had we all known exactly what was on the calendar, we may have allowed ourselves to sleep in. Or held back during the test as to save some legs for later. I suppose ignorance really is bliss sometimes.

The legs still feel a bit wonky, but I know that come mile 68 of this 70.3 mile race, I'll be happy that I've gone through all of this nonsense. But until then, I homegirl needs some sleep.

Peace out.

I'm still standing....

Hiya! I'm still here (somewhere).

Honestly? There hasn't been anything really exciting to catch you kids up on. This season feels like a little bit of a let down based on the past few seasons. I'm not sure if it's because of the lack of marathon or something on the grand scale (coughIMcough)...but it's nice to not take myself so seriously, relax and have fun. Hopefully with some hard work I'll have a new PR or two to show for it.

This past weekend we found ourselves in Galena for the annual Galena Triathlon. I elected not to race (and after seeing the new bike course and the billion hills of death, I decided it was a smart move). Instead, it was the battle of the Mikes and it was fun to watch it unfold. The duo is a pretty even match in 2 of the 3 disciplines right now, which makes for some fun spectating. Shannon, Gina and I settled in to a prime spot and cheered them all on with mimosas in hand. And in true Barb fashion, I flirted with anyone who was sweaty and in spandex just to give 'em that extra jolt of energy as they rolled into T2.

But both Mike's did well. As did Lauren, Dave, Stuart and Laura--Infinity Multisport had a solid showing all around, in fact.

My training is going solidly. We're with the Infinity Multisport 70.3 team and it's been a blast working with The Punisher on a weekly basis. We still haven't actually signed up to race. But that's on the radar (should really take care of that soon). The plan is to race Ironman Racine 70.3 in July, the Chicago RnR half marathon in August with Team Salute (more on that later), and then go for a sizable PR during the Capital City River Run half marathon on my birthday in September with a friend that can hopefully pace my to a 2:15. If I can squeeze in an olympic before the half iron, that'd be ideal. But we'll have to see how that pans out.

I know my main focus lately has been over here in the "land of awesome" as I try to build numbers and readership to moved to paid blogger status (should only be another month or so if I've played my cards right). Never fear, this neck of the woods should be receiving lots of love in the upcoming weeks as workouts get stupider, races get tougher and distances get tougher.

So yeah. That's where things are at.

Lisa posted something today that made me smile, so naturally...I wanted to share it with all of you fine folks...

Your biggest challenge isn't someone else. It's the ache in your lungs and the burning in your legs, and the voice inside that yells "CAN'T!!" but you don't listen.You just push harder. And you discover that the person you thought you were is no match for the one you really are. - Unknown

Have a great week, everyone!

Only because bodily harm was threatened if I didn't post this.

I'm only posting this because some half pint was getting on my case about it [just kidding, Lauren...sorta ;) ].

Page 34.

Enjoy.

In other far more fun and interesting news...

...we test the run tomorrow morning. There is a very strong possibility this isn't going to go over very well. But after that super fantastical fun run...we get to swim. And Sunday brings my first outdoor ride of the season...in my new pedals...on hills. Lots and lots of stupidly steep hills. Let's guess how many times I'm going to fall while riding. Or better yet, who wants to place bets on whether or not I'll survive the weekend? I know what I'd place my bet on...