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And growing up... Court, me and Goldie sometime last year, more civilized. Sort of.
I kept riding even after completing one loop, and about 30+ miles later, I felt like I had lots more left in my legs, but knew that a gnarly run and huge ride awaited me, so I cut myself off and went back to Ian's to shower, eat lunch and get the relaxation started before the dudes got back.
I can't even express how entertaining it was for me to watch the guys come in from their rides and run over the weekend. They were filthy, smelly, sweaty and food-and-beverage-consumption machines, expressing a combination of exercise highs and exhaustion always with huge smiles and lots to talk about, but I also caught the occasional stare of delirium. It was classic.
Saturday afternoon, after getting in some quality couch time, we all headed down to the beach for the long run. I, B & K were running for 2:15; I was running for 1:30. I started off with them, and as soon as their pace got into the sub-7 range I backed off knowing I could never hold that pace for my planned 11-ish miles, let alone 4 miles.
From Redonodo to Manhattan, it was a zoo of drunken partiers, beach cruisers and the AVP Volleyball Tourney mayhem... Then us: Runners geeked out in tri attire head to toe (glad I'm not the only one who wears two watches, Brian!) weaving through the traffic.
I took a breather at my 5.5-mile turnaround at Manhattan Pier, and made it back in the planned 1:30, although the last few miles were pure torture. I recently made a switch to Zoot running shoes, which I totally love, but unfortunately the back tab thing rubbed my Achilles/heel area raw, leaving me all bloody and cringing in pain. I had no way of covering it (socks were too short) so I just endured the pain rather than giving up and walking.
I like that I'm only training for half-Ironman with a group of IM-training freaks because I got to enjoy a lot more of these types of moments while waiting for the boys (they ran 19+ miles!):
And after a hearty Friday-night dinner with a fellow triathlete who also had a hefty weekend of training ahead (his made mine look weak), Saturday finally came and the real epicness began. It started with me trying to kill myself--yes, I OD'd on salt tablets thinking they were my L-Glutamine & BCAA pills. Too many little baggies with white pills lying around! I had at least double the recommended dosage of salt on top of a few Endurolytes. Oopps! I was a little shaken up, but thankfully, I ended up being totally fine the whole day--my sweat seemed extra salty though. I'm curious: What happens if you OD on salt? I'm still too afraid to Google and find out.
By the time Sara showed up at 8, I just wanted to get out and go. The plan was to ride south through Camp Pendleton and eventually turn around whenever we hit 35 miles, which ended being in South Carlsbad. The ride was simply awesome. Sara and I are like long-lost best friends. It's weird how we just instantly clicked on every level--athletic ability, personality, lifestyle, etc. We were pushing each other hard the whole ride. From San Onofre through Pendleton, we met up with another group of guys Sara knew that had us hammering to keep up. Then minus the guys, we continued into O-side and Carlsbad on our own. We pit-stopped at the campgrounds then headed back north, stopping again to refuel at 7-Eleven. Then it was on. We laid down the hammer and it got silent. No words just work. The toughest part was the final stretch on Old El Camino Real to home. The whole time I was thinking IMCA 70.3 next March--yup, I signed up for round 2! Then, unfortunately (or fortunately) the house I'm living at is on a cliff, so at mile 70, we were greeted by this (burn!!):
We got in 71 miles with a few pit stops in roughly 4 hours. We were both stoked to get off the damn bikes at that point. Despite the temptation to call it a day, we threw on our running shoes and I took us on a route along PCH that would force us to get in 4+ miles, no way to cut it short and go home. Felt like the longest 30 minutes ever.
After the run we were spent but on Cloud-9 with such a quality bike/run. We made some killer tacos at my place and sat around for a bit but not too long because there was still one thing on the agenda--an ocean swim!So we headed to Lost Winds in San Clemente to get wet...bikinis only, no wetsuits necessary. Two things: 1) I didn't think I had it in me to do more physical activity, 2) I rarely do ocean swims except in racing, so kinda freaky. But the water was so inviting and we charged. Turned out to be one of the best swims I've ever had. Not necessarily in speed or anything like that, but just the refreshing crystal-clear water, my confidence in the ocean and how good it felt on our tired muscles = amazing!
After that we just laid on the beach loving life with 5 hours of hard training done.
Saturday night was a blur, I was delirious and a bottomless pit of hunger. I tried to take a bath in the jet spa, but the bubble bath I dumped in super-activated with the jets on and I drown in bubbles nearly instantly, as you can see (and it even got worse!):