...hmm... that post title sounds X Rated... read on with no fear, G Ratings prevail.
This past weekend was one of the hardest in terms of training that I can remember. On Saturday The Three Amigos met at the pool for the "Hardcore 100" - a 5.5 hour long mag trainer set courtesy of Spinervals Coach Troy.
Anyone who's ever spent a couple of hours on a stationery trainer knows how easy it would have been for us to walk away at that point. Our legs were throbbing, our hearts pounding out of our chests. All the while the counter on the TV screen counted down second by second, far too slowly for our liking. After two and a half hours it taunted us with three hours and some to go.
We persevered to the final sprint, during which I thought I might yank my aero bars off my bike with the effort! It felt good to get off, although swinging the leg over was hard.
We backed up on Sunday with a 30k 'River Run'. The 'River Run' is usually known as the 'River Ride' - it's probably the most popular round trip amongst Brisbane cyclists... but on Sunday we were 'sans bicycle'.
The run was eventful for me. I was still wary about magpies, and with the reemergence of news stories on the bikeway attacks during the week, I also had human baddies to look out for. I hadn't counted on getting the fright of my life from what I think was a small firecracker going off within a metre of me. True story! I was just plodding along minding my own business, when BANG! After recovering from the initial shock I warily looked around for a camera, a group of kids laughing, but spotted nothing to make me any the wiser as to what it was or why!
By then I was almost on the home stretch. Just back along the Coro Bike Path and over the Goodwill Bridge. I gained some company along the way... perhaps I looked like I needed more than Gatorade, GU and Coke... KKB had already sought me out a couple of times during his Sunday ride, and another of the guys from my squad turned around and rode with me for a k or so when he encountered me on his way home.
But the outstanding support prize has to go to the friend who, on spotting me down on the bike path literally pulled her car over to one of the parking bays on Coro Drive and ran the last 4ks or so with me back to Somerville House, dog in tow. Where, I might add, my coach and his wife were waiting patiently.
I feel like I've recovered better from all of this, better than I did from last weekend's half marathon at Coomera. Must be the good vibes.
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