Busy as a mummy mommy

My computer is down again, yes the G5 monster is in the shop for the second time in 5 months. Apparently there is too much computer and not enough space so it doesn't cool itself down well. (I see that at the Y all the time-it's ugly)

Yesterday was a busy day with Fall parties at school. I was mummified in rolls of toilet paper in Buck Naked Boy's kindergarten class. The room mom would make Martha cry in jealous anguish with her personalized napkin iron ons (yes, she ironed napkins) and individually embossed name tags and treat bags. The coordination of tablecloths and room decor was lost on the kids but the moms were impressed. I was curious. Then dad came to pick up Martha's son and the ensuing scene was heart breaking. Son cried with increasing angst as dad gathered his things to go. Mom consoled son with "I'll see you Thursday" . I was cleaning up as they discussed the four different homes son would be living in that week. He just wanted to go home with his mom. He probably wanted his dad there as well, but that would be too much to ask.

"I hate when his dad picks him up when I'm home, he always cries."

Son is five, of course he cries.

"He'll grow out of it"

He wants to be with his parents, do you want him to grow out of that?

I read somewhere that God hates divorce, I can see why.




the Kahuna decided he didn't want to be a Ricky Williams (he left the Dolphins, who had devised an entire offense around his running, the week before training camp last year. ) I spent some time at other sites and was glad to see the team hung together. I certainly contemplated what my training would look like without a team, and it was ugly. What I learned as I wandered is that the lines were still in the trench, the receivers were ready to go and the plays would still be called. We'd just need to be creative without our running back.

Iron Wil has a great post today, to that end.

Hope the G5 is back tomorrow so I can post pictures. I let a little girl in the class play photographer for the day. A party through the eyes of a child. Have a good one.

Working for the weekend

And this kids, is how we make beer! No wonder the teachers can't wait for Fridays. Although I'm not so sure I would want to drink anything brewed up in a third grade classroom, maybe this was just a pouring lesson. :) Btw, if the glass in the picture doesn't look like a frosty mug to you, pour a few back, it will eventually.

This is a serious taper week for the big event next weekend. So, my blogging might get a little spotty as I rest my index finger.

Tridaddy and I were going to vacation in PCB next weekend, volunteer for the Ironman race and sign up in person. How cool would that have been? But the 21 day advanced purchase window closed before we were able to commit to going and the cost more than doubled. Is it considered mortal if you cut out of the middle of church to send a registration online? My attention might be a little distracted until it's complete anyhow, so there is probably enough grace to cover me.

It's big ride weekend, enjoy yours!

Bicycle built for 2 or 3 or 6...

I am convinced those word verifications are actually swearing in a different language. Some programmer is laughing hysterically right now.

"Implatzz" that car cut me off!

We have the promise of 65 degrees for these last few days of October. It's a good Fall when we can still bike outside until November. Among my scheduled events for 2006 is a half iron in June. I want to get in one ride of the loop before winter so that I can carry it in my head through the hours of winter spinning. I saw an ad for a tri on Catalina island next weekend. How romantic. One item of note, if you don't have a bike there is a rental store on the island. They only rent mountain bikes (aarrgghh!! never again) but they also have tandems. How fun a race would that be, all tandems. You swim, bike and run together. A new twist on a relay. I wouldn't go so far as a "3 legged" 5K, so let's just say you have to tandem bike and you have to cross the line with your partner. Who would you partner with? Of course Kahuna would take Mad Mel (she could carry him-literally-if he slacked-not that he would ever slack) There are a few male tri hotties, but I'm a happily married woman. I would like to stay happily married so there is little to no chance I'd tandem with tridaddy in a race. That might be somewhat akin to pairing Robostu (the machine) with Iron Wil (the incredibly tenacious firecracker), no on second thought they'd smoke the field on heart alone.

I know, surprise to all, tridaddy and I are both bull headed (all endurance athletes are to some degree or another) Last summer we rented one of those bike buggy things that you can load six or so people into and peddle along a tourist area. With the tribe on board we set out to see Canal Park in Duluth. I'm convinced these buggies were designed by a marriage shrink because they installed two steering wheels but only one engages the steering mechanism. Your options as a passenger are to either sit passively and enjoy the scenery, hands off the faux wheel, or you can spend the entire ride like a moron trying to direct the buggy by spinning madly and impulsively at your wheel.
I chose the latter option, only in part because tridaddy inferred the term "buggy" implied off-road vehicle meant to slalom around pedestrians and jump curbs (all to the elated giggles and delight of the tribe) and in part because it is difficult for me even after 15 years of marriage to abdicate directional control. I have triathlon to thank for helping me in that regard, turns out Tridaddy is a pretty good coach. (He's a pretty decent couch too, -thanks spell check- but that's a whole other post :)

One final note-if you haven't already, take swim lessons and correct your form. I've been able to drop my 50 pr from 52 to 40 seconds (not that I could sustain that beyond a 50) but that has to extrapolate well over hundreds of yards all the same. I was plaining through the water quite flat, a few adjustments got me sideways like a fish and dang if that doesn't work better.

Two cents and two dead.

Flatman has a post which allows you to calculate the value of your blog. Mine is worth two cents, at least that's what I'm giving you each time I write. Actually the test said it was worth $14,XXX, I'm guessing anything with the word tri in it is money in the bank at some point in time.

With that said, I need a logo, a patent and people, I want to have people.

Nobody will want to be my "people" when I relay the worst part of my day. I squashed a squirrel under my tire today. That makes 2 in 2 months. They are either getting slower or I'm getting faster. Both incidents were caused by the squirrel coming out of no where, and not turning back. They've always turned back before. Maybe they've been watching too much Fear Factor. Note to squirrel: the 2000 pound mini van doesn't swerve, it's not personal, it's physics. There is nothing quite as sickening in sound as that of the life being taken from an animal. I've never hit anything with my car before, and if I never hit another animal in my lifetime that would be fine too. Of course, we could all stop swerving. I think they don't turn back because they expect us to swerve. Not swerving throws the timing off. You all need to stop swerving so they can get their timing back.

We watched "The Day After Tomorrow" the other night, because nothing else is going on in the world and it seemed like a good primer for wall to wall hurricane coverage. Cool special effects, decent writing, silly science. Reaffirmed my primary contention in life; if it's all coming down, let me and my family be at ground zero. I know where I'm going, I'll be happy to get there and I see no reason to stick around for the ugly stuff. Yes I'm a wimp. If I'm asked to stay, I'll give what I've got to take care of my family and others around me and we'd survive. I guess being in your 30's with good health allows you to be afraid of having to contemplate your own death. I don't like to have to think about dying when I am busy living. That changes radically with things like cancer and other terminal illness. With those challenges you struggle to hold to the preciousness of life, it's your main weapon in the arsenal against despair. You take each day as a gift you can share with the people around you. I want to live everyday that way. I fail. Often.

This coming Friday we will celebrate life and commemorate death.

Tridaddy's dad, the second greatest man in my life, turns 80-may he live to be 100. The day he dies will be one of the saddest in my life.

One year ago Friday a young man who worked for Tridaddy and who we'd known for 18 or so years (most of his life) took his 50 caliber and ended his life. The very tragedy of suicide is that the person who takes their life never sees the several hundred people who gather at their grave and weep. They never hear the eulogies which exude love and hope for the person who died. Johnny was a college graduate, a licensed pilot, an accomplished guitarist, a college football player, a skilled worker, had a great personality and a warm smile and he had seemingly incurable depression. The hole he left in our lives still hurts, still echoes with why and still wishes we could go back to Oct 27th. If you are a praying person, light a candle for Johnny's family, they could use a little extra light this week.

Pretzel anyone?

Nancy posted a warning for boaters and referenced "The Perfect Storm" for the east coast. That was a storm of historic proportions (if you haven't read the book I reccomend it-just not in flight from DC to MN in turbulance) where an early Nor' Easter danced with a Florida hurricane and produced at least 100 foot waves and 120-150 mph winds. The same low pressure that created "The Perfect Storm" made a layover in MN bringing a Halloween Blizzard which dumped 24 inches of snow in 24 hours. The state shut down. Should I drag out the snow shovels? On the bright side I hear shoveling snow is great core work out.

Which is good because my carb cravings have switched from chocolate cake to cookies. What is going on? I doubt even Susan could help me now. Madonna, Susan, Richard, they don't retire, they just repackage-like Twinkies. Hmmm,Twinkies.

Stop, must stop.

Gopher, Issac and the gang managed a last second win today over the Cheeseheads, and that made for a great 75 minute spin on the trainer. The biking, not the game. We were cheering for Favre, anything to lose Tice et al. My beloved Broncos took down Little Manning, but by then it was on the swim team, so it was a radio update cheer a thon.

It will be a swim/bike brick tomorrow-hopefully biking outdoors, blizzard not withstanding.

Not quite stuck

I napped, under the watchful gaze of as yet un named bubble bike mounted on our trainer. (my goal is to spin 4-5 days a week) I could sloth no longer- spinning for 50 minutes. Spaghetti for dinner.

I did get in trouble for the chocolate cake. The best way to dodge inquiry is to actually tell the truth in spite of the apparently gross exaggeration.

Who ate all the cake?

I did.

You did not.

Yes, I ate all 18 slices, all by myself, in the last 24 hours. Winter is coming and I was freezing all day, call it hibernation instinct.

Moooommmmmmmm!

Ok, I didn't eat 18 slices, it just felt that way. Had dad and brothers not helped out I probably could have polished the whole thing off, no problem.

Monthly munchies and the onset of winter can be hell.

I made up for it in the pool today. One and half hours of swimming, sets of 300 yards drill,, drill, drill.

Swimming makes my legs jealous so I had to run on the track. I did a 5K as follows

Mile 1 7:30
Mile 2 7:48
Mile 3 7:40 (yea a negative split)

total 22:58 (I know a 5K is 3.1 miles-I ran the outer ring of the track so whatever- I did a negative split whoo hoo!)

So, there you go, have a nice weekend.

Stuck on Stupid, or going south?

So, this is supposed to be my lap swimming time, right now, in the pool grinding out a few thousand yards or so. Instead I'm home sitting on my ever expanding arse with not nearly enough time to zip over to the Y, get the workout in and be home in time to meet the bus. For the record, my normally healthy and virtuous diet has been reduced to 2 pieces of chocolate cake an Egg McMuffin with hashbrown/grease sponge and a coke. Just for good measure throw in a few more bites of chocolate cake and that's what I've eaten today. What is happening to me? I'm even wearing jeans and a flannel shirt-the epitome of common man syndrome.

I need help!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A spark flickers as I have my marathon finishing shirt on underneath the flannel, but wearing a shirt just won't get it done.

Part of the problem is that I am trying to figure out a getaway for Trihubby and I but we missed the 21 day advance notice for the airlines. I hope the vacation is still within grasp, because our destination will totally rock if I can get it figured out.

For now, I think I'll go for broke and take a nap.

aaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What did you just say?

Dad, I need to turboboost my gun.

Right, that's why you have to eat the apple.

Misssion failed!!! But I got that one, moans Soapinator

There is a new parlance around the Trimama household and I have no idea what they are talking about. We are a Mac family now, and among the otherwise useful gadgets, such as spelling and grammar check, there is a video game called Nanosaur-or Brontosaur if you are Buck Naked Boy. From the occasional glance over the shoulder and the streams of conversation, I gather the objective is to fly a dinosaur which needs to swoop around and retrieve eggs without being shot by lasers or eaten by t-rex. Once you have recovered all 12 eggs you are vacuumed up into a portal to the next level, where you ?? I'm a little foggy about level 2. and 3 and 4 and how many levels can a game have?

I am not a video game aficionado. I lack the eye hand coordination to play effectively, and I simply don't care. I enjoy watching the PS2 games like SSX Tricky (which is the game they always want me to play because my boarder universally looks like highway road kill flapping in the wind, and pretty much everyone soundly crushes me) I've seen more hours of Red Faction and SOCOM than chick flicks (there is going to be some serious payback this winter :), checking Netflix queue) and I can name the entire armament of the neo soviet terror network. "Crazy (mom) Taxi" is my favorite. Virtual payback baby! It's therapeutic.

It's Soapinators birthday today. She's 9 and a bundle of love and hugs, life and laughs. I can't imagine not having a Soap in our family, so it's a great day.

I was in labor for 3 days with her, kind of makes an Ironman seem easy in comparison :)

For what it's worth

Dottie Hinson: It just got too hard.
Jimmy Dugan: It's supposed to be hard! If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The hard... is what makes it great! Just ask any ironman. The hard is what makes it great.

Hard is taking a two hour tour on the tri bike in spite of fighting a yeast infection for a week just so you can get some more outdoor rides before the snow flies.

Hard is running on the way home from work after a long day just so you can train your body to run when it's already tired.

Hard is waking before the spouse, the kids and long before the sun to get in some yardage at the pool.

Hard is taking the training outdoors in the humidity, the wind, the horse flies, the cold, the wind chill, the ______fill in your own enviromental challenge.

Hard is being misunderstood by just about everyone who has never tri'd.

Hard is pushing the brain to positive when it just wants to quit.

Harad is what makes it great. What is your hard?

A little Help Here?

I'm trying to add 3 things to my sidebar colume, I want a training log, a countdown clock and profiles of The Tribe. I don't speak computer code, so can someone send me the code so I can paste it into my template. Thanks

Whoo Hooo Indian Summer

It is going to be 75 here next week! That means one thing....more outdoor riding time!! Thanks for all the compliments on the bike, after I rode her the other day I noticed that the cockpit is aptly named "salsa" so with names like salsa and tequillo(a) I'm going to have to contemplate a while before naming her. Bubble bike seems a little too obvious, although it's a handy nickname. Bubble bike is seriously fun, (an oxymoron as Hyphen girl would point out-aahhh life sublime when you arrive at a level of compelling conversation about grammar and word usage with your kid-but then I'm a geek in more ways than tri) So, why not contemplate bike names while enjoying the beauty of an extended fall.

The bike is the first step in working and training smarter. It was good for me to wait through a season because I altogether did not trust my biking skills to attempt a tri bike. Having spent the summer on the modified Frankenbike, near death experiences and all, I realized biking isn't so difficult, particularly when you have one well fitted to your frame.

So, now on to step two-swimming I taught myself to swim last January, not starting from scratch, but almost. I hadn't had a swim lesson in 30 years and I've never swam more than a length at a time. To my benefit I have a friend who was a PAC 10 champion swimmer, so I dragged her to the pool a few times and she helped immensely. My current stroke allows me to cruise through 2500-3000 yards in a workout at about 55 seconds per 50. My race times improved over the summer and that was satisfying, but there are times when you just know you need help, actual, hands on help. So, I enrolled in Foss swim school for swimming lessons. Did I mention I haven't had a swim lesson in 30 years? I met my instructor, Joe, on Tuesday. Joe is cute in a "would you like to meet my daughter (in about 10 years)" sort of way. (spare the hands on comments :), I'm a happily married trimama) He kindly informed me that my entire stroke is ineffecient at best and downright hideous at times-hideous being my word. So we drilled and drilled and drilled some more. I've done about 30 bazillion crawl strokes breathing to the right, which explains why my left side is considerably weaker and also explains why my bilateral breathing hasn't progressed so well. Each roll to the left is roughly the equivalent effort of getting Anne Coulter to approve a tax increase. I wonder if Al Franken can breathe to the right?

But we were talking about smarter.


Link

Train like a Race Horse, pt 2

Saturday Tridaddy was working out in a western 'burb which is all thoroughbred horse farms. Rolling hills, changing leaves, blue sky, aahhhh, purely pastoral. I like this horse in particular because he went lame and can no longer race at the track, but that doesn't stop him from running with his head high.

Beauty in motion

I on the other hand, scare myself. I am currently not worthy of my new ride, a Quintana Roo Tequilo. Add two letters and you have a good approximation of my riding skills on aero bars. But, this bike has bubbles, really cool bubbles, and that makes me smile. Did I mention she does 20 in granny gear? I have about 2 more weeks to practice outside and still retain feeling in my hands and feet and then it's indoors for a winter of spinning. Six hours or so is a lot of time to spend in the saddle so my off season conditioning will focus on endurance and strength training for my neck, shoulders and upper body.

So, I'm not quite ready to be put out to pasture, but I have a lot of practice in front of me. We did go on the annual trek to the apple orchard Sunday. Another simply marvelous day to pick apples, walk the orchards, hunt for pumpkins and breathe in autumn.
No trip would be complete without apple picking, but in a rare early end to picking season, this orchard was out of apples to pick. Not to be deterred by details, we took the wagon ride around the orchard anyhow, and noticed that there were still some trees that could be gleaned. The guy in the pumpking barn said we were welcome to walk the orchards and see what was left, they just weren't opening the fields to pick for purchase. We found plenty of apples to pick and sample, so crisis averted.
Part of the orchard ritual is to find pumpkins to carve. Hyphen girl in oldest child character is not content with any old pumpkin, no it has to be the biggest pumpkin in the patch. At $.39 a pound we tried to discourage that at first. Not that it breaks the bank, it's just that spending four times for a pumpking I can buy for $3.00 at the grocery store irks me. So, we made a deal with her, she can pick any pumpkin she wants but she has to be able to pick it and carry it to the barn and to the car herself. She just about gave herself a hernia this year, but she did it. That was worth the price of admission. It's always good entertainment when you get to needle your tweener, and then let them glory in their accomplishment.
My boy took a little more sensible approach, he is his mother's son.

The rest of the IMFL and training thoughts are yet to come, too much housework and office to do today, that and I'm required to take at least a 30 minute ride on the bubble bike today-coaches orders. Ok, twist my arm.

Have a good one!

Think like a bumblebee, train like a racehorse

Well my slow growth bike fund is up to a whopping $51.74 thanks to the "Common Surface Savings and Loan" and an occasional deposit from "Coach Cushion Co Op". Uncle Sam helped a bit with a generous refund of my even more generous IRS contribution, so Frankenbike might be available on Ebay soon.

Just think, what would you pay to own a piece of Trimama?

I had a dream last night that it was registration day for IMFL. My registration was official at 10:06 a.m. CST. It took me 6 minutes to fill in all the details and my credit card number. But then it took me all day to post my entry and..ok, whatever, other peoples dreams are boring.

Except this dream.

This dream, IMFL is remarkable.

I took "The Triathlon Training Bible" to work last night. I began reading this book in January, when the dream was just a speck of a seed trying to learn to breathe in the pool. Sap, or sapling, I'm going to be fitted for a tri bike this afternoon. We're going "all in", which granted doesn't amount to much because I only have about 4 chips in my pile, but the bumblebee in me says 4 chips are enough. I might not have the best bike, or the smartest coach (although he might be the sexiest-especially in his biking tights), but I have a lot of equity in the endure and conquer, train and enjoy, Life Time Savings and Loan and I have a good God, a great hubby, a wonderful tribe and cool friends.

I think I've finally settled on a reason to pursue this trip up Everest that I can endorse, that I can celebrate,

but that will have to be chapter 2, life is calling....

Crash!!!! "Mom I sink I broke that ting"

Have a great weekend!


Link

Honorable mention, not bad

Kahunaat TriGeekDreams has completed the ultra secretive (I'm not sure he even knows what it entails) selection process for the coveted Tri Diva Award. Trimama is thrilled with her honorable mention-not bad for her first beauty contest. I would like to thank all of my supporters, sideline fans and of course the tribe. Melanie is a gifted athlete and a tough competitor, it's good to see the award go to someone with such a fine ass...oh I mean set of assets, oh I mean...well I'm sure sex had nothing to do with the selection process....

Speaking of sex, here is my finisher medal. I crossed the mat in 4:32. My outside hope for time was 4:15, but when I factor in the time for 1 potty break and 2 blister repairs I can drop 12-13 minutes so my actual time of moving forward was about 4:20. Not super, but I'll take it. Oh, but we were speaking of sex, or at least I was, and that leads me to my decision to switch from the full to the half marathon at Chang's. While I truly want another go at the marathon distance, I want to enjoy this 15th anniversary away with Tridaddy. The days before a marathon are all taper and preparation and the days following a marathon leave you mentally and physically exhausted, now how fun would that be? I want to mountain bike and swim in Commodore's lake, and tour the Phoenix area and.... so 13 miles it is.

The tribe has a few days off from school, didn't they just start? Something about a teacher's conference, yea, whatever. I'd need a break 4 weeks in as well, but I'd just call it like it is, "48 hours to golf and recreate before winter traps us indoors with your little miscreants for 7 months". In a preview of winter the temp is topping out at 39 degrees today, no that isn't 93 like my southern/western companions are experiencing, it's 39. The wind is bustling and the leaves are blowing, so why not pile them up and bury yourself? Tomorrow fall is supposed to return so we are going on a fall hike. I think I'll drag along some camping equipment so we can experience camp cuisine. Pictures certainly to follow.

Finally, on the recovery front, I figured out the blisters. In a quirk of nature my feet are size 9 1/4. Not 9, not 9 1/2 but 9 1/4. I bought running shoes in the spring, size 9 and spent the summer feeling like my big toe was broken. I bought a new pair of shoes Friday, 9 1/2 and they felt great, especially when I put the Dr. Scholl's insert into them. Moron moment, I wore the super thin biking socks I wore all summer as a nod to the dance with the one that brought you, but they weren't thick enough to compensate for the extra space in my new toe box. So, the blisters are healing, and my feet are gargoyle ugly for now, but,

I have a medal and an honorable mention

Thank you, thank you very much!

Go Bob Go, that's Bob with one "O"

Mere steps from the finish line at the capital. One of these days I'm going to celebrate myself flat on my face. I'm in post marathon strange world right now. The feet are healing, I can almost descend stairs straight again, and I think that weepy feeling everytime I eat is just about gone. Funny how our brains react under stress. I think my sense of accomplishment in my first marathon will always be tempered by my disappointment in my time, but I also can't help but feel running through a hard day is worth more in the bank for IMFL than reaching my goal might have been. This left me strangely hungry. Hungry to train-harder. Hungry to push-farther. Hungry to work-smarter, much smarter. 140.6 is a long way to travel in a day, let the training commence.

The marathon was not without it's humor, the "Bob" sign being among the many that made me laugh. "Keep running, naked men ahead" (which never materialized) and "Beer Station" (crossed out by "sorry they shut us down"). At one point I was talking to a complete strangers feet, in response to "tell my feet that" more to say, but the carpool waits.

Oh boy

They say there are good marathon days and bad marathon days. Want to guess what kind of day it was as I embarked on my first 26.2?

3000 people DNF'd

They pulled the pace rabbit because there was no chance of a record falling.

The male winner was 15 minutes slower than his PB

Joan Benoit Samuelson was shuffling and dogging at mile 20 (yet still qualified for olympic time trials for 2008 at 48 years old)

The female winner was walking at mile 22 and 24.

It was the second slowest finish in the history of this marathon.

The average finish was 4:27

It was a beautiful day-but just humid and weird. It was like the barometric pressure couldn't make up it's mind.
There was a lot of this-cramps, vomiting, etc.

I was ready to turn off at mile 5-since that marker was only 4 miles from home. At mile 6 I knew the first blister was forming on my feet so I stopped at an aide tent. 3:45 time delay- but better than the woman who stopped with me and nearly passed out.

By mile 7 I was finally feeling really good, until mile 11 where I stopped for the other foot. At mile 14 I met the tribe for the first time. Take me home, please. Of course I didn't want to go home, but I didn't want to keep going either. I can't explain it, physically I felt great, mentally I felt like rats were gnawing on my cerebrum.

The crowds were constant and so inspiring. Just keep moving, just keep moving. I walked and drank at every water stop. miles 15-18 went better, but then I started to hyperventilate. (more on that later) The tribe met me at mile 17, God bless them. I was running for the right to tell them to never quit. I threw out my pace charts at mile 13. Notwithstanding the 9 minute delay for the feet, my 13 mile split was discouraging. I figured if I could just click off 4 more I could get mentally close enough to the finish line that I could push through to the end. As soon as I saw mile 19 I knew I was going to make it. Somehow getting within an hour of finishing was very helpful. Then came the ALARC wall. I passed mile 20 knowing it's all up hill from there. I felt good though-at least physiclly, so I at least knew I could keep moving. I could walk if I had to, but I didn't want to walk.
Surprisingly, when I was running, I was carrying a good pace. Run, run run, walk, drink, walk, run, run, run. Finally mile 24 and the tribe waiting to cheer me home. I knew I was so close that was no chance of not making it. I tried to not think about what my feet must look like by now-theyll heal- and I focused on smiling, and encouraging everyone plodding along next to me. One last up hill then mile 25. Finally that awesom downhill and the capitol. I forced myself to run the final half mile praying I wouldn't trip and finally, finish line. I made it! My time was a full 1/2 hour slower than what I wanted, and I was disappointed, until I learned that it wasn't a day for records or speed-it was just flat out endurance today.