It's all about the bike.

Why the hell did I say I would do this? What did I get myself into? Will I even survive this ordeal? I’m talking, of course, about doing a triathlon. When my friend Courtney signed up for the Ironman Kentucky last fall, I said I would enter her first triathlon with her for moral support (no, I’m not doing an Ironman, I’m not that much of a masochist.

So I agreed to enter a race at Harriman State Park in May. The other day I looked on my calendar, and realized that the race is about ten weeks away. And my training regimen has consisted of a lot of skiing, but not much else. So today I did my first “brick” workout. Bricks are when you train in two of the disciplines in a row to simulate race conditions. Of course, as with everything else in my life, I decided to do it bass ackwards. Instead of riding the bike before going out for a run, I decided to run first, than bike.

Now, the race I’ve entered features a 10 kilometer, or 6.2 mile run. I have never done that distance in my life. So right now my plan is to run 3X a week, adding an extra K each week until I can run a full 10K. I’m not worried about the 29 mile bike section, I can ride 30 miles any time. So I went out for a mile run today. The first half mile, I felt great. Second half mile, not so much. This is going to be a lot harder than I expected. As happens every time I run, I wished I was on my bike. I mean, all of this technology, why resort to the most primitive form of transportation known, right? Plus, the return trip I was running into the wind. Not a nice, tropical breeze either, but a bitter cold, winter in Vermont wind.

Upon arriving home I retreated to the relative safety of my basement, where my trainer was set up. I put in a steady 40 minute effort, no problem (okay, my ass needs to get used to this again, but otherwise…). Now why was 40 minutes on the bike a breeze, but probably not much more tan a ten minute run nearly killed me? The answer is simple.

Running sucks. It's all about the bike.