My triathlon is less than two weeks away now and I had an awesome run-through of the course this past weekend that was immediately followed by one of the worst runs ever in my life on Monday. I mean, it was seriously pathetic. I went to bed on Sunday night with visions of crossing the finish line and shattering my goal. I went to bed on Monday night with ice on my decrepit knee picturing myself tripping over my own shoe or riding my bike into a parked car and exiting the race in an ambulance.
Let me make one thing clear here before I go on – I am not a tri-athlete. I don’t sprint. I am chubby. I have no grand illusions of winning this race or even coming in the top ten. I do not, however, want to come in dead last. Giving up and letting the 250-pound, 60-year old man pass me up is just not acceptable.
That said, my ‘run’ on Monday was more of an incredibly short jog. I would like to blame it on the fact that I was running with my roommates dog and my iPod shuffle would not cooperate and play any good running songs for whatever reason, which is weird since I only have running songs on there, but it was a gorgeous day out and I started on a nice downhill stretch and if anything, the dog was helping my momentum, so it should have been a much better work out. I am going to try again tonight without the dog and with some minor music tweaks, so keep your fingers crossed!