What have I done?

It wasn't supposed to go down like this, really. I actually had it all worked out. But let's set the stage.

For those of you that may not know, earlier this month we made the extremely difficult decision to have our dog put down. He had some aggression issues, and we just couldn't risk (another) serious incident. Our kids don't know where he went, we simply told them that he went someplace safe, somewhere he couldn't hurt anybody else. I'm not prepared to explain the harsh reality of the situation, so please, if you do happen to cross their path or ours, please be mindful of this.

That left us dogless for the first time in just over 8-years, which frankly, kind of sucks. There was a sudden realization that with two kids, and incredible amount of food actually reaches the floor. No wonder so many family pets are fat. Our vacuum cleaner was gone.

But with ironman training, I knew that this summer was no time to be training a new puppy, a new hunting buddy. The plan, get through summer, through ironman, then bring a new puppy into the house to fill the void left from ironman training. The perfect plan.

Our first vizsla purchase was done on a whim. We knew what breed we wanted, but we grabbed up the first puppy from the first litter we saw. Besides the aggression, he was a great dog and a true friend. I still miss him.

This time I was determined to get a dog out of some truly great bloodlines with the intention getting a great hunting dog and chasing as many AKC and NAVHDA titles as we could. This demanded research, so I started looking at different breeders and pedigrees, emailing some, and on monday I put a deposit down on a puppy for this fall. The plan was coming into place nicely.

But I still had my doubts about this breeder, so I kept looking and I ended up contacting a kennel I've had dealings with in the past and was very familiar with our situation and my wants.

Long story short(er), Ozzie, a 12-week old male vizsla pup, came home with me this afternoon. He's sleeping on my lap right now.

Ozzie and P

Ozzie and G

A busy summer just got a whole lot busier.

On a sidenote, trainings going well. I'm still slow as dirt, but it's going well.

Numbers

I'm an engineer.  Work related, virtually every thing I do comes down to numbers.  More so in previous jobs where I did more design work, but still, enough of my day and my decisions revolve around numbers.  And it's really hard not to let that mindset carry over, especially into the triathlon world.

Last night was a prime example.  Short run, 30 minutes, out and back while P is at basketball.  Ran the whole thing (30-minutes is about my limit right now), and I managed to cut 20 seconds or so off on the return leg. 

Good run.

Felt good about it. 

Until I realized how far I ran, or didn't run.  It was only then, when I calculated my pace, my painfully slow pace, that I began feeling shitty about the run.  The damn numbers, all was well until I looked at the numbers.

It's one of the many little mental hurdles I'll be jumping over the next 8 months.

Today I'd be thrilled to break the 11 minute/mile mark.  Last year at the Point Bock Run in early March my pace was 9:42/mile.  Seems like a long way off, but I hope to break that pace when I run it again.

Is it really only 8 months?  Shit.

Brick *

Is a brick really a brick if ones transition time is longer than the subsequent run? 

The wind was the determining factor in cutting my run short, but I did get out and make an effort.  After half hour on the bike in the basement I toweled off, put on most of the clothes I own, and went out for the run portion.  Definitely a lot harsher than the previous night.  Instead of running around the entire subdivision, I settled on one lap of the shortest block, roughly 10 minutes, it was enough.

Today my legs are sore from all the recent activity, calves taking the worst of it.  When I first got up I felt like I was walking in downhill ski boots, unable to flex at the ankle.  They've loosened up some, but the first couple of steps whenever I get up are a little iffy.  I expected this, now waiting for it to pass.

Still have not swam, pool closed last night because of the weather, is closed again today, and will likely be closed again tomorrow.  That makes today a rest day, something I excel at.

* Brick - for those of you not in the know, is a workout of one triathlon discipline followed directly by a second, typically bike than run, but technically it could be any combination of the three.  Unless otherwise noted, my brick comments will always be bike/run related.

Foiled

For the second time in less than a week I actually got off my ass and made it to the pool only to be greeted by a swim meet.  What is a boy to do?

I did get through my first run yesterday. Cold and slow.  How slow, let's put it this way, my run speed in min/mile was greater than monday's bike speed in miles/hour.  I think that says something about my general state of fitness.  But it was cold, somewhere around 1 (one) degree F.  And there was snow everywhere, and ice, and some people don't know how to shovel, and some people don't shovel, and it was cold.

But I'm not making excuses, I was out there, and it wasn't that bad.  And I actually ran for 30 minutes. No walking, only one brief stop to discuss my lunacy of running in this weather with a friend passing by.

Tonight I have a brick workout on the plan, which sounds like a brilliant idea, 30 minutes inside getting sweaty followed by a 15 minute run on a -5 degree wisconsin winter night.  But it will get done, worst case it will be done in reverse, but more than likely it will just be a really long transition.  But it will get done. 

Now I just need to figure out when to swim.

Foreign

Strange, unfamiliar, uncomfortable, odd.

That's how it felt getting on my bike again yesterday, day 1 of week 1 of ironman training.  The sit region took the worst of it after not been on a saddle in quite some time.  The rest was uneventful if not boring.  And slow, I rode painfully slow.  Not that I really expected much different.

But as odd as I felt on the bike, it's probably just a glimpse of what I'll feel like in the water tonight.

DNS

I didn't make it out to the New Years Day Dash this morning. I have no solid reason for not going out. That really is the truth of the matter. Lot's of excuses, some fairly legitimate, but nothing that would have stopped me had I actually wanted to participate.

Hopefully this is not a precursor to 2009. Straight up IM training starts in less than two weeks. No more excuses, no time for them.