Brick

I'm about a week out from my first triathlon of the season, and the forth of my career (and I use that term very loosely). I will be going the Skeese Women's Triathlon next Sunday, May 18th. It's a pretty small race both in distance and in number of participants. With a 300m swim, 11 mile bike, 2 mile run and a bad habit of mixing English and metric measurements, this race is a good warm-up to the season. Getting ready for this race means reminding my muscles how to move and dusting off the mold that has gathered since last September. I've been training with my team since early April and am pretty confident I can handle the race with my goal being to complete it and have a good time.

This morning, however, was not a good time. The bike/run brick workout combined with sleep deprivation, dehydration, improper nutrition, and general crankiness was less than ideal. Sluggish on the bike, I somehow made the 10 miles in south Austin to trot off my bike with all the grace of an elephant on skates and attempt to run down the street for ten minutes down and back (the break down being 40 minute ride, 20 minute run).

There's a reason why this is referred to as a "brick" workout. After the bike, your legs feel like heavy, stiff, and unmovable. At one point I even asked my coach, who was walking beside me about as fast as I was running, "Does it at least look like I'm running?" My calves were tight and cramping, I was hungry, and all I wanted to do was stop. Somehow, every time I do a brick I'm surprised at how it feels. It takes a little pain and discomfort to learn some lessons, and I think I just learned a lot this morning. I think I need to do more bricks, though.