[follow_me]
Well, over lunch I took a quick detour from these hallowed days of rest in the peaceful waters of the downtown YMCA (not to be confused with this crazy pool). I just wanted a light workout that would take my mind off mounting pressures and maybe convince me that I haven’t forgotten how to swim.
I was almost in the clear, but dark sunglasses weren’t enough as I unceremoniously snaked my way from the locker room. Gliding right at me with a grin was my training buddy, and former candidate for judge. Busted.
“Hey,” he said, with a suspicious look, “I thought you were on a 10 day break?”
“Well, uh, yeah, I am, but uh, I sorta felt like I . . .”
“Oh, don’t worry, buddy. I don’t judge.”
“I know, and that’s exactly why I voted for you!”
He thanked me for my vote, then I graciously let him worry about more important things, like training for Ironman Chattanooga.
Yeah, so I did swim this afternoon and it felt . . . okay. I really spent most of the time looking for that little pocket. The place where my stroke feels powerful and effortless. I think I found it three times in the course of a half hour.
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And now it’s later in the night and while I didn’t swim too hard, I do feel like it took something out of me. I haven’t done anything of note tonight, but plan a little meditation before bed.
Two days left to revel in the wonderment that is rest and recovery. I plan to ride the Trace on Saturday, then do a reasonably long run on Sunday. Then it’s decision time. Will I bite the bullet and sign up for Louisville, or will this be a summer of short tracks?
I have to admit, I’ve watched this Ironman Louisville video a few times tonight. I’m sure your pulse will race as much as mine.