Time To Get Moving

This is the part of winter which is getting old.   We are now about two months into having snow on the ground and this weekend was the coldest yet with temps that never got above 20 and were as low as -15 with the windchill.   I have a good selection of winter gear but it doesn't cover me for those temps.   Worse I am heading out on a series of business trips that will consume the next three weekends and some days on either side -- I'll go a month before I see a day off.   My winter fat reserves are just a bit too plentiful.  And every one of those 12,000 feet of Cohutta are looming ever closer.

At 7am on April 30 I will be sitting on the start line at Cohutta, looking at the mountains looming in the distance.  At that point I will have either logged a serious training effort to be sharp or I will have given it a half-assed effort and be ready for a day of suffering and regrets.  Now is the time I make that decision.   In all my years of marathon training, my key mantra was that marathons are won or lost on all the Sunday mornings leading up to the event.   That principal doesn't change if you swap your running shoes for cycling cleats.

I realized I needed some good, old-fashioned recommitment.  I logged 2 hours in the weight room and on the trainer Sunday (football games help) and another 90 minutes outside last night on the mountain bike SS climbing hills and pushing snow.  Now is a good time to start paying a little closer attention to those extra snacks I've been sneaking too.

Last night's ride was great.  The snow was perfect (packed and fast).   I had good legs for the hill repeats.  I pushed 90 minutes in the dark solitude and enjoyed the tranquility.  When I got home, my bike badly needed a bath to keep it from collapsing in a heap of corrosion.  Then I dug into my parka shell and found out that one of the mitts I had stashed mid-ride there was missing.  Ughh.  I sat there for a dejected moment contemplating my options.  I could just leave it and drop $50 on a replacement pair.  Nah, that sounds too lazy.  I should go out and retrieve it from where it lay in the darkness.  I was letting it get to me and ruin my great, post-workout euphoria.   I didn't want to take the bike back out again (another washing).  Next I thought I might go out running, but I would have needed to cover too many miles and I was already cold from the cool down and bike washing.  So I hopped in the car and hoped for the best even though that gave me the least ability to recover my tracks.   25 minutes later I had my mitt back in hand.  I can't believe I let it get to me so much.  There is a zipper on my parka pocket for a reason ... idiot!