RACE WEEK, WEEK 6: As expected, things are not going as expected

Ahhh, the tapir, the magical tapir.

As expected, it's not going as expected.

I'm alternating between total anxiety and complete excitement. (I'm feeling a little bit like my vertigo may resurface, so that accounts for a large portion of the anxiety.) That part, I expected.

This part, I didn't:

Yesterday was my last workout before the race, unless I do my strength routine tomorrow after PT. I did PT and strength yesterday morning (you know my strength routine by now - all those exercises, plus a warmup on the bike), and then they beat the crap out of my legs. They were extremely puzzled when I told them I had a great race Sunday and then a horrible 6-miler on Tuesday. There was a lot of trigger point massage and some new painful spots were found.

I was supposed to ride 30 miles after work . . . I got out in time, went to the head of a new route, and promptly realized I didn't have my map and couldn't read the tiny one on my phone, so I had to drive to one of my old routes. Got to my second location, was pumping up my tires and my pump blew up. Yeah, the brand new pump I bought last month at my sprint . . . one of the seals at the bottom of the pump basically burst. I thought it was me, because I'm so new to Presta valves, but nope . . . it was the pump.

So now I leave location #2 for the bike shop, because I figure I have to go get my pre-race checkup anyway. And I'm worried that I may have a flat on the front. (This is all very scary, because it would take me an hour to change a flat at a race. Or more. Believe me, I've practiced - I just don't seem to be proficient.)

Anyway, I get to the bike shop, get them to adjust my derailleur and fix the chain-pop-off issue, they inflate my tires, confirm that I'm not flatted, and they adjust the rear tire so the brake isn't dragging. I feel like a new woman (or at least an old woman on a new bike), but it's way too late to get back out and ride 30 miles. My riding buddy meets up with me, confirms that it's the pump's problem, not mine (engineers can figure out anything), and we go for a very, very, very leisurely 11-mile ride - takes us about an hour. I'm still late for dinner.

11 miles easy is not 30 miles of hills. But, although my plan said 30 miles, Coach Vivian told me that I should do an easy run, easy bike, easy swim, maybe some yoga, then nothing three days before the race. Three days before the race is today. And I'm thinking "easy ride" does not equal 30 miles of hills, so what I did is probably exactly what she had in mind, but part of me still wonders if I should get out tonight and do another ride just to make sure.

Toward the end of the ride, while the sun was setting, it was starting to cool down a bit and a slight breeze was blowing. It wasn't as hot as it has been all season, and I started to get that poignant, "end-of-summer" feeling I used to get as a kid when it was time to go back to school and fall was looming ahead of me. Not that I don't like fall - it's my favorite season - but the end of summer always made me nostalgic, maybe more so than the end of the year. "You know," I told Nate, "I am feeling kind of sad about my tri-training ending. It's really weird. I'm sort of bittersweet about it. It's exciting to see everything I've worked for come to a close, and the race is only days away, and I'm looking forward to having more time to myself, but switching over to marathon training only is going to be so . . . different."

And it is.

Of course, in true Meggan Ann fashion, I have already found something to fill up the time . . . school. But I'm already wondering how I could fit in some sprint-distance races on the way to Philly.