Urban Tri

I usually try to do a full version of the triathlon at the gym before the big race. I call this the Easy Gym Tri, because it involves sitting in the hot tub, running and biking on ergonomically correct gym equipment, lazing about between segments, and generally not pushing oneself too hard. It takes about twice as long as the actual event. Anyway, I mentioned it to this year’s training buddies, my science journalism classmates Liz and Kate--who are turning out to have a lot more pep than I originally anticipated--and they said, Why wait until a couple weeks before the race? How about this Friday instead? I didn’t have a very good argument at the time, so next thing I know I’ve committed to doing a full sprint-length triathlon every three weeks until the actual triathlon which is on July 30th.

Anyway, today was the second of these doozies. Only, these ladies have left the “Easy” out of the equation. The last Not-so-Easy Gym Tri of 3 weeks ago kicked my butt, but today’s qualifies as a full-on triathlon in my book. Instead of doing the gym thing, we laid out a nice urban course that winded past garbage heaps, sped us through highway interchanges with billowing clouds of car exhaust, ran us through a herd of burly street geese (who were trying to cross the street), forced us onto glass shards and into potholes, wove us through phalanxes of power-walking moms with double-wide baby strollers, and finally spit us into my stinky, garbage-y, puke-lined avenue. Only 10 feet from our final destination, a semi parked in our crosswalk and then we had to maneuver around an armored car parked on the sidewalk. I think this last one-two doubled the length of our final glory leg. Ow. I am in lots of pain now.

Here is what I looked like after a race a few years back. I do not feel as peppy today.