I just made the most awesome concoction...I pitted and sliced up cherries and put them in the food processor with ice chips and ground it up until it was like a slushy. Then I poured sparkling water in and mixed it up.

HEAVENLY.

Especially after a hard run.

These days every run is a hard run for me. Whether it's pushing a bit longer or a bit faster, in this heat and after my hiatus, nothing that involves running is easy right now.

I have a long way to go before I even feel comfortable that I can cover the distance at Lobsterman...I can easily finish the swim (but not quickly), and the bike (fast enough), but the run...oy. Eight miles still feels like a challenge these days. I was used to feeling like 6.2 was a warmup when I did my last Oly races...now not so much. Running hard off the bike is fine for about 2 miles right now...after that it's spit the bit time.

Oh well. I take it as a good sign that my "just grateful to be doing it" attitude is beginning to fray. It's means that pretty soon I'll take everything for granted again and be back to my nasty competitive ways...ways that make me faster.

Hee, hee.

This is what I'll be riding when I tackle Lobsterman:



Thanks to Phil and Nate at Seaside Cycle, Armstrong did get saved, at least for the short term. But he's going to become a trainer bike...put out to pasture for his old age so his frame doesn't fail on me at an inopportune moment (i.e. any on the road).

I'm not thrilled about the paint job on this bike...it's too pretty. It looks...finess-y. It doesn't look intimidating at all.

I want a black bike.

But I want a fast bike more, so pretty it is.

Now for a name...Bloody Mary, perhaps? Nah...I'll trade the saddle for black.

HA!

No, it has to be a boy, pretty or not. I've never been into pretty boys, but I guess if I had to pick one, it would be Fabian Cancellara. He is the swiss time trial machine, afterall.

But I cannot name my bike Fabian. That's just wrong. And Cancellara is...well, a bit much. However, his nickname IS Spartacus...



So it shall be. Welcome, Spartacus.

OK, we'll welcome Spartacus in about a week, anyway.

Of course I'm not buying Spartacus to race Lobersterman on...oh no. I'm buying Spartacus (plus a spare cogset most likely) so I can race this:



Yes...like half the known world, I have signed up for Ironman Mont-Treblant, the new race in Canada. I am SO psyched it is ridiculous. Now I have 13 months to lose 15 pounds (all fat, no muscle of course), regain the ability to swim for an hour, find my lost lactate threshold, and cobble together the wherewithall to stumble through 26.2 miles.

Am I sick that just writing that makes me the happiest woman in the world?

I have three goals for the race that I'll just put right out there -

1. Be fully present EVERY SINGLE MOMENT of the race. This will may very well be my last IM distance race. I want to totally absorb the emotions and the sensations, ebullient and painful.

2. Finish.

3. Have an awesome time with family and friends. Pete and the kids are coming up because it's a SICK resort town, and some of my very best friends are racing - Donna, Maris, Kat - and Janda and Michelle will be there to cheer.

How fantastic is that!

Of course I will also qualify for Kona, but that is a given, so why mention it?

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