Full Weekend

In college, we were all exposed -- perhaps not by name, but at least by experience --to LeFrancois's Second Law, which states "A bad morning is NOT too high a price to pay for a good evening."

I believe there is a corollary for active adults: "Complete exhaustion on Sunday afternoon is not too high a price to pay for a kick-ass weekend!"

It's immensely satisfying to know that you have pushed yourself. There's a feeling of pride and pleasure associated with each sore muscle -- a perverse joy in being so tired that it's a chore to stand up. You may be beat up, but you face the end of the day knowing that you'll sleep well...and will honestly deserve every blissful moment of your nighttime.

Most of the folks who read this blog know exactly what I'm talking about. But I wonder about the others; is there anything in a couch potato's life that gives them the same feeling? Oh, I can see that perhaps a musician might feel something similar when they whip off a nice improv riff, or maybe an artist would sleep particularly well after adding that final brush stroke to a heartfelt painting. But does a corporate middle manager feel that way after completing a challenging performance review? Or does an accountant have the same endorphin high after getting the last column of numbers to add up?

Maybe. But I still feel sorry for anyone who hasn't had a weekend like I just had. I'm completely pooped, my arms and legs are jello, and I probably don't have the energy to open a jelly jar. But I feel wonderful!

After Friday's most excellent run, my Saturday began with some reasonably tired legs. But I had 5 events to swim at the Highlands Ranch meet, and I was looking forward to finding out what I could achieve in the pool. My first event was the 500 free, in which I've struggled a bit over the last several meets. After that, I was swimming the 100s of each of the four strokes...and I couldn't even remember the last time I had done that. I'm not a sprinter, and 100s are always painful; I'd rather do a 1000 than a 100 any day.

I am pleased to announce that I took first place in my age group in each one of those five events! Yea!

(Of course, taking first place isn't that difficult when nobody else from your age group signs up for any of those events. But still, I had to at least swim them legally, right? It's still somewhat of an accomplishment, isn't it? Isn't it?)

I'd say I had mixed results. I haven't seen my splits for the 500 yet, but I'm pretty sure they were all over the place. I started out OK, faded badly in the middle, but finished fairly strong. I'm not sure why I'm having so much trouble in the middle of the race these days, but it's obvious I need more race-pace training at that distance. The 100 back was OK, and I'm not horribly disappointed in the 100 free -- even though I can no longer even hit the times I could hit at the end of my sophomore year in high school. Ugh.

I still think I should be able to break a minute in the freestyle on a good day. The question is whether I want to swim the event again to accomplish that. I probably need to do it at some point...but I'll have to give that some thought.

One word describes my 100 butterfly: egregious. I went a 1:19, which I should be able to do without even breaking a sweat. And yet was it oh so painful. This one, I am totally blaming on Reynold for making me run so hard on Friday. I got no help from my legs at all, and you know when the legs are dragging, the arms are definitely going to suffer. Baby, let me tell you -- I suffered.

So I guess there's another event I'll need to do again fairly soon. It was an embarrassing performance, and I feel obligated to redeem myself. I guess I'll swim the fly at State (though I know I'll be tired by the time I get to that event). If I can't hit a 1:15 there, then I'll have to enter another meet where I won't swim anything before that race.

It wasn't all bad, though -- In the 100 breaststroke, I had the good fortune of being next to a guy who was just exactly the right distance in front of me going into the last 25. Nothing seems to inspire me more than pulling up on a guy as we make the final turn, and it always helps me put the hammer down. I finished strong, went past him, and had a surprising 1:22 finish. I wasn't even expecting to hit 1:25, so I was pleased with that. The stroke felt pretty good, too.

That's the one thing I really appreciate about your pure sprinters; if they're not more than a little bit ahead at the end, there's always a chance to take them at the end. (Of course, most of them are SO far ahead at that point that I don't even see their feet, but we distance guys have to have something to strive for -- so when they do happen to stay close, it gets to be fun.)

I was buttered toast by the end of the meet, but was glad I had done it. My teammates Seth and Becca totally kicked butt -- they didn't have to rely on age-group no-shows to win their events. And yes, I did sit in the hot tub for quite a while after my last event. That was nice. And I slept well Saturday night.

The plan for Sunday morning was to run steps at Red Rocks, do our regular swim practice, and then go for a bike ride. I wasn't sure about any of it other than the swim; the wind was blowing, and it wasn't exactly warm outside. I didn't know how much snow there would be at Red Rocks, and wasn't at all sure I wanted to ride my bike if the wind was strong. Still, since Kim and Reynold were going to be there, I threw the bike in the car and drove up to the amphitheater.

Peer pressure is an amazing thing, and in the world of sports, it is a true blessing. I wouldn't have gone up there without knowing that the guys would be there...and I wouldn't have pushed nearly as hard if it weren't for their smiling faces and churning legs cranking up the pace. We did a few trips up the stairs, one snake up the bleachers, once up climbing the planters, and a couple of loops around a section of the road. It was a great workout!

(One side comment; if you really must take your dog up there, the least you could do is pick up the poop they leave on the bleachers. Several people hadn't done that, and it's really disgusting. C'mon, people, show some minor courtesy, OK?)

My arms and legs were tired for swim practice, but I still worked pretty hard. And then it was time to make a decision about the bike ride.

It had warmed up a bit, though the wind was still blowing. I'd have probably scrubbed the idea if it wasn't for Kim's enthusiasm about the ride. But as he always does, he got me inspired, and we headed out to face the elements.

We did drop the original idea of riding back up to Red Rocks. We just did 14.2 miles (the loop from Wal-Mart through Bear Creek Lake park and back.) But it was a tough 14 -- the wind was howling for the majority of the ride.

Kim has a triathlon in Hawaii in a few weeks. The winds are supposed to be strong there, so he really wanted to get in some wind training before he heads to the islands. Well, he got what he wanted, that's for sure. There were times where we felt in danger of being blown over, and going straight into the face of the wind was no picnic, either. Still, we somehow managed to climb both the dam and Mt. Carbon...and survive to make it back to our vehicles.

The good news is that I got a little bit of saddle time, and didn't feel too much buttockular fatigue. After all, it's not just the legs that need to be trained for the Triple Bypass; we gotta get the sittin' muscles in shape, too. This short Bear Creek ride doesn't come close to proving that I'm ready for a half-day trek over the mountains, but at least it's a start.

What about the rest of the day, you ask? Well, there's laundry, dishwashing, and...oh yeah, a hot epsom salt bath. Will I work out on Monday morning? Too soon to tell -- I'm going to play that by ear. But right now, I feel drained, spent, crushed, and utterly exhausted.

And extraordinarily happy.

I hope you had a great weekend, too!