Day 21: End of Reset and Bonking

Yesterday was the last day of a 21-day "cleanse", the Beachbody Ultimate Reset. It was also the day of the Buckhead Border Triathlon, consisting of a 1.5k swim across the Ohio from Louisville back to Indiana, a 40k bike, and a 10k run. This post serves two purposes: a wrap-up of the Reset and a race report.

The morning started with a 3:15am alarm, only to find I'd slept through a series of texts from the race organizers the night before: the recent rains in the area had caused the bacteria levels in the water to rise to "slightly elevated" levels. We had the option of swimming anyway or doing a duathlon instead. This race is interesting mostly due to the swim across the Ohio, so I chose to swim. I'm sure I've swam in worse water than this. The lakes around here get pretty nasty by August.

Made the 100-mile drive in decent time, only to get held up in a horribly inefficient packet pick-up process. They were busing swimmers across the river to the start, and as I'm standing in the non-moving line, they're announcing that the last bus is leaving in ten minutes. Great. I still need to get bodymarking done, and get my stuff all set up, and here I am standing in a stinking line. Thankfully a very nice guy who was doing the shorter distance (and starting later), insisted I cut in line to the front. Finally I got my bib and other numbers, and could hustle to transition for set-up. Got all my stuff set up in record time, and trotted to the last waiting bus. Whew!

Aside from the kick to the nose, the water was fine. I felt great during the swim, lost a little energy during the bike but it didn't suck, then bonked horribly on the run. It was my own fault. I usually stick a gel in my running shoes and suck it down after the bike, and in my haste I forgot to do that. And it cost me big time. I was totally spent by the time I hit mile 2 and the rest was a sufferfest. Slogged the last 4 miles to the finish, and managed not to be dead last, but was darned close. Oh well, I finished and had an active Sunday morning, which is more than the vast majority of our population can say.

In addition to my forgetfulness, I was on the last day of a 21-day cleanse. I had been on a reduced-calorie (and reduced-activity) diet for one week, and a vegan diet for the last two weeks. No meat, no dairy, no animal products, including eggs. While I heartily endorse doing something like this from time to time, it simply doesn't support this level of activity. I dodged a bullet last week at the race in Muncie, but couldn't avoid it yesterday. The cumulative effect of 3 weeks of reduced intake was a major bonk.

HOWEVER, the cleanse was worth it. During the 21 days, I felt physically great the whole time...felt energized, clean (can't think of another way to describe that), and ready to go. I lost that sluggish logey feeling I'd been having for a few months. Even though I was on reduced calories (and yes, thinking about food a lot), I still felt like I wanted to go work out. Intellectually I knew that would be a mistake simply due to the calorie deficit, but mentally and physically I wanted to move.

Final results: I lost 5.7 pounds and 3.2% bodyfat. My main goal wasn't to lose weight, but to cleanse the system and hopefully shed some bodyfat in the process. I'm quite sure I'll regain a couple of pounds this week, but if I can hang on to this current feeling of well-being and keep the bodyfat down, it's been worth it. Tonight, though, a glass of wine and a hearty meal are on the agenda!

Day 1: Day 21

Pre-Reset: Day 13 of Reset

Beachbody Ultimate Reset

Day 2, Initial Thoughts

I'm a skeptic, but the eating plan is certainly effective. There's just no way you could NOT see results with the clean eating this cleanse requires. Are the supplements worth the high cost? I don't know yet, but the price tag certainly motivates me to stick to the meal plan as closely as I can manage! My reasons for doing the Reset are simple:

1. My diet has gone to total seed, and I've got to get it back on track.
2. My GI hasn't been normal and happy for some time (see reason #1).
3. I really don't like how I've felt physically: really sluggish and bloaty (see reason #1).
4. I've packed on enough extra fat to accentuate my pear-shape, and I hate both how it looks and, more importantly, how it makes me feel when I'm trying to train or race (see reason #1).

The plan is only for 21-days, and is not a horribly restrictive one. Basically, you cut out dairy and red meat the first week (and caffeine), and the next two weeks are essentially eating a vegan diet. While doing this, you also drink a lot of water, probably more than most people are used to doing.

I dropped the milk a few days out from starting the plan, but indulged in some last-chance cheese a couple of times. I also went without coffee two days in a row in a sort of "trial run". It was tough, but I survived. The plan officially started yesterday morning.

So far, here's what I've observed:

• If you drink a big-ass glass of water and force yourself to wait 30 minutes to eat, you don't eat as much.
• If you don't drink liquids with your meal, you don't eat as much.
• If you then force yourself to wait at least 2 hours before repeating this cycle, you don't eat as much.

In addition, knowing that I have a two-hour wait before the next eating opportunity, be it a snack or a meal, means I have to put real thought and planning into my day's menu. The Reset package comes with a really great little book with meals outlined for every day, but every day's schedule doesn't quite align with yours, so you have to think about it and plan accordingly.

For example, breakfast in Week 1 alternates between oatmeal or eggs/steamed kale. Factor in that you can only eat AFTER drinking the glass of water/supplements and waiting 30 minutes, and your morning routine can become a shambles. Yesterday I drank my water and went to my regular trainer session at the gym, then came home and had oatmeal. Today I didn't have any early-morning appointments, and had time to scramble the eggs and steam the kale, and prepare most of my workday's food while waiting for the 30-minutes to pass.

Because I am used to grazing pretty much non-stop, the most difficult part of this is the waiting between meals. I also realize that at least part of this struggle is due to sitting at a desk all day staring at a computer (I do better with physical distractions). Thankfully the weather has been conducive to mid-day walks, and that's going to help break up the constant "feed me" signals from the brain.

Beachbody recommends you lay off strenuous exercise for the 21 days it takes to complete this thing, due to the changes in diet/calorie restrictions. I did a nice short open water swim last night (1500 yards) and felt really good for the rest of the night. Today I'll walk some; tomorrow is a massage. Some people report feeling sluggish, but I haven't had that yet. Any fuzziness is likely due to the lack of coffee/caffeinated products, and seems to pass by early afternoon.

I'm traveling for four days starting this Thursday evening. It'll be a real challenge to stick to the plan while traveling, but I'm convinced it can be done. I'll just be eating in grocery stores more than restaurants, most likely, and ordering lots of steamed veggies while everyone else mows down on really good Tex-Mex. But it's worth it to see exactly how effective this thing is.

Now for the hard part: posting pictures. Here are some photos I took this morning (this pains me as much as it pains you). I know, it would have been more ideal to take them yesterday before starting, but I didn't have time. I don't expect any huge visible results at the end of this thing, but I DO expect to feel 100% better!

Feeling like Dorothy and Toto

One of these days, my severe lack of discipline in training and nutrition is going to catch up with me. Thankfully that day wasn't the Ironman Kansas 70.3, though there were times I had doubts. This was my fifth half-iron distance tri, and the one for which I was least prepared. It wasn't the most difficult course (that still remains Rev3 Knoxville), but was by far the most difficult conditions.

The race was on Sunday, so Saturday we had to check our bikes into transition, where they would stay overnight. Kansas has two transitions: the first one is down by the swim start/finish. After leaving the bike at my spot on the rack, we stood and watched the wind blow whitecaps on the lake where we were supposed to swim the next day. Yikes. Sure hope it's not like that tomorrow! Aw, it shouldn't be that bad; we'll all be in the water by 7:30am at the latest, and winds typically don't kick up that early.

When I got in the water at 6:48am Sunday, the current wind speed was 11.5mph, and was just ramping up from there. At least one Pro athlete looked at it and said, "No, not today." I was in Wave 5, Women 45+, about 70 people. We herded onto a dock, then jumped off and swam about 30 meters to a couple of buoys that marked the start. The water temp was nice, and it wasn't quite as choppy that close to shore. "OK this won't be as bad as it looks", I thought hopefully.

It was as bad as it looked. When our group started, most of us attempted to legitimately swim, then quickly had to start floundering until we got the water/waves figured out. Many of us did breast stroke, I did a lot of side stroke, and others simply tried to keep their heads above water. Many many people were hanging on to the buoys or the paddle boards/kayaks, trying to get their breath. I alternated freestyle with side stroke, and it was a mighty pitiful flounder more than a true "swim". The total swim portion was an out-and-back 1.2 miles that really didn't look that far from shore (because it really isn't, if you're prepared and there aren't whitecaps), but was painfully slow. Between the crazy chop and the strong current, everyone was working much harder than normal. The water was so choppy that people were drifting far off course, and the folks in kayaks and boats were having trouble a) finding them in the troughs, and b) getting them out of the water without running into them.

I personally never felt like I was in trouble, I was just expending an awful lot of energy trying to make forward progress without getting a snoot full of water. By the time I made it to the last turn back home, I was questioning how on earth I was going to bike 56 miles in this wind, as tired as I already was. After shaking off a calf cramp, I tried not to think about how heavy my legs felt and how awful the bike ride would be. Oh well, all I can do now is get through this slog of a swim and go from there.

One hour and six minutes later (pitiful slow even for me), I dragged my tired butt out of the water and headed for the bike. Took my time drying off my feet and getting ready for the long ride, telling myself it wouldn't be so bad, I had plenty of fuel on board, and would just take my time and get 'er done.

When I passed our parked car about 1.5 miles later, I gave (more than little) fleeting consideration to simply planting myself there and waiting for someone with a cell phone to wander by, calling Paula and Shirley, and telling them to meet me at the car. Instead, I heaved a big sigh and kept going.
The first 14 miles went better than I expected, despite the hills and wind, so I was feeling pretty good when I took a break at the aid station. Took some nice cold water and continued on.

Aid station #2 was a different story. By then we had been dealing with a ferocious headwind and crosswinds, and had spent the last 20 or so miles either climbing into a headwind, descending into a headwind (pedaling all the way down large hills...are you kidding me?), or simply trying not to be blown sideways into passing cyclists. Everyone was suffering. By now the winds were cranking up from a steady 16 to 19mph, with gusts building from 24 to 28mph. Wind like this is not conducive to efficient cycling. As I was fighting the crosswinds, I was thinking I would never try to fly a small aircraft in winds like this. Crazy. By the time I pulled into the second aid station, I was hoping something on my bike would break that couldn't be fixed. I pulled over and stood up, my quads completely fried. Another woman pulled up beside me, having bad GI issues. I think she was hoping I might quit. I know if I had called it a day, she would have joined me. We also found out that our last cold drink of the ride was likely whatever we had back at aid station #1. Warm water and warm electrolyte drink. Great. I delayed the inevitable for as long as I could, grudgingly climbed back onto the bike, and left.

About a mile later I hit the wall. Rounded a corner, had maybe a 1/2 mile of tolerable flat road (with a miserable headwind), then a long, steep hill that never quit. I made it halfway up the hill, felt like puking, legs were toast, and the headwind was raging. I pulled over, got off the bike, and walked it up the rest of the way, watching all the other cyclists slowly pull away. At the top I felt like I was cooked. I just stood there for a few minutes, sucked down a gel, drank some nasty sweet (warm) electrolyte mix that I had with me, and panted. Well, I'm 35 miles into this thing, what am I gonna do? May as well suck it up and finish it. If I fall over tired, I guess I'll have to wait for a SAG wagon; otherwise, may as well keep moving forward. Climbed back on and tried to enjoy pedaling down the next hill. Am I Dorothy or Toto? Maybe the wind will just suck me up and deposit me at the end of this blasted thing!

Actually felt pretty good for the rest of the bike, and was amazed to be passing people (and not have some of them pass me again) at this stage of the course. This was a s-l-o-w ride, and usually if I'm THIS slow, I don't have much company. I was very surprised at how many people were still out there with me. I felt like a total spaz trying to manage the wind. Several people (really nice looking buff men) passed me and said nice things. I don't know if they felt sorry for me because I looked like a spaz or because they saw the "51" on my calf (my racing age), but it felt good nonetheless. Hey, it took them over 40 miles to pass ME, right?

Finally got back to the park, squeaked my way up the last few hills, and was absolutely stunned to see the parade of walking dead on the run course. Wow. By now, almost 4 hours had passed. Normally, there'd still be a decent number of people on the run course, but they'd be almost done, and RUNNING. Almost everyone I saw was walking. After being pummeled on the bike, people were now baking in the sun -- the temperature had risen to 92. Oh my, this could get ugly. But at least I managed to finish the bike portion. I honestly have no idea how I found the strength and the energy to do it, but I did. Thank gawd.

I joined the zombie march and eked out the 13.1 miles, one foot in front of the other. Walk, trudge, repeat. Once again I was shocked to see so many people still out there with me. I had lots of company in my suffering. The run course was two laps and offered minimal-to-no-shade, but part of it went through a campground. This was the best part of the entire route. Lots of people were at the camp sites, and had set up hoses/sprinklers/water guns, and would spray you on request. These folks really did make it bearable. Between that and the cups of ice at every aid station (every mile) that either went down the shirt or in the hat, it was possible to stay cool enough not to puke. Once again I was surprised at the number of people that I passed (and they stayed passed instead of leap-frogging me). A lot of people were cramping and having trouble hydrating. I was grateful not to be one of them.

Two hours and 46 minutes later, I trudged over the yellow brick road, passed Scarecrow, Dorothy, and the Wicked Witch, and crossed the finish line. Back to hotel to retrieve baggage, take the bike apart and pack for shipping, grab a shower at a friend's house, and head for the airport for the flight back home.

Total race time: 7:57:40. Slow slow slow, but one of my more hard-won achievements. This was the closest I have ever come to quitting, and I would have been in good company. Out of my age group, two quit after the swim, and 7 didn't even start. I don't know the DNF rate, but I suspect it's high. I'm very pleased to have managed to finish this thing, none the worse for wear. I feel better than I have any right to, since I've been a major slacker this year in training. I know that I dodged a bullet, again.

Time to get back on track. Guess I'll throw my butt into some water later this week and work on that swim thing. Oh, and try to cut back on the beer.

Wisconsin Half Marathon 2012

You've gotta love an event that designs its finisher award to contain a bottle opener. After all, it IS about the bling.

So Friday we drove up to Wisconsin for a race. It was a half and a full marathon. Many months ago, Paula and I had a conversation something like this:

"Hey I wanna do this race to check WI off the list. You interested?"
"Sure, do they have a shorter option?"
"Ummm let me check...oops, no, just the half and full."
"Oh what the hell, sign me up for the half."

That was MONTHS ago, so it had been purged from the memory banks. Since then we've done several races where I did the half and Paula did a 5k or 10K, so we both figured that was the plan. Wednesday I go to check the registration, and find we are both doing the half. She took it well.

While it was gawdawful hot and humid here in Indy for the Mini, up in Kenosha it was in the 50's, damp, and blowing. Temps were great for running, but the wind got tiresome, and I'm sure it was a bit chilly for walking, and the volunteers must have been miserable standing around in it. Most of the course was along the shores of Lake Michigan, so the wind never abated. We were both happy it wasn't raining, just spitting water occasionally.

The course itself was an elongated loop up and down the lakeshore area. Part of it went through a very nice old neighborhood with beautiful old homes and large, well-kept yards. After that we went through the old "downtown" area, through a park, along the waterfront, and back.

I saw Paula once after the first turnaround; she was at mile 6-ish and I was around mile 9. I asked how she was doing and she just said (very adamantly), "This sucks!" She was only slightly mollified when I told her the wind was better on the way back. She never slowed down and continued trudging onward.

Paula did far better than she had any right to, a very respectable 3:25:05. I did my typical 2:17:37 and was happy with that. Anything under 3:30 and 2:20, respectively, is a good time. We were both pleased with our day, despite Paula's frequent exclamations of suckage.

We thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the weekend, visiting several dear friends from my Chicago days forever ago. The friends we stayed with were wonderful enough to have Thai food delivered. Yummy! The next day we had a wonderful brunch at another friend's house (complete with mimosas), watched the storm come through, then drove home. It was a very full, very satisfying weekend. Not only a good race, but even better company and more shared memories to add to the (somewhat faulty) memory bank.

Ultra #2: A 30-mile trail run

The Planet Adventure Winona Lake Trail Ultra is a 10, 30, and 50 mile trail run. The course is a 10-mile loop that is repeated as desired. I signed up for the 30 mile, and knew that attempting a 50-miler was tempting certain injury since I really hadn't even trained for 30. Oh well, wouldn't be the first time I've winged a long race.

I worked at registration that morning, checking runners in. Working with me was a volunteer, Jayne. Jayne's weekend plans had fallen through, so she had called Planet Adventure to ask if she could volunteer. She was planning to do the 10 miler, but had it in the back of her mind that she'd really like to try for 30. She's only been running a couple of years, and her longest run to date was a half-marathon. She had already done a triathlon as well. I encouraged her to go ahead and try. If she hated it after two laps and wanted to quit, she could collect the 10-mile medal and still would have extended her maximum distance. If she felt good she could continue and more than double her longest effort. What could it hurt?

There were about 40 of us signed up for the 30, and we all gathered at the start line. The trail was single-track, so there was an initial slowdown as everyone entered the woods on the narrow trail. Jayne and I ended up bringing up the rear. I was taking my time, as usual, and Jayne asked me what my pace would be. Hmmm I really hadn't thought much about it, I just wanted to finish with minimum suckage. Finish in seven hours? Sound good? Eight if the hills are really bad and I'm suffering? That worked for her, too, so we decided to stick together. I told her first thing was to walk up the hills and save the legs. She was content to let me pace her, and I was content to do so.

We ended up running together the entire way, chatting the whole time.  Before either of us knew it, we were back at the start/finish, and ten miles were on the board. We both took about ten minutes to eat, rest, drink, and she changed her shoes before we took off again.

The second 10 miles were harder, and we were both very happy we only had one more loop, but both agreed it wasn't sucking. We got tired, both had some niggling aches and pains, but nothing that was seriously detracting from enjoying the view. The course was very hilly, with lots of smaller switchbacks. The downs were often just a little too steep for us lesser-experienced trail runners to easily trot down, and we both had to apply the brakes fairly often. The "straightaways" were not very long, not very straight, and not very level, but were a good chance to do an easy jog. We never went too fast to talk, and enjoyed admiring the faster runners that passed us on a regular basis. It didn't start to rain until we were at mile 15, and it was a nice steady cooling rain that didn't produce immediate mud-pits, so we were content.

We weren't quite as chipper as we crossed the finish line for the second time, but both were still smiling and feeling pretty good. We took another ten minutes to grab some chocolate milk, fig newtons, whatever; Jayne changed shoes again and I changed socks. We compared our time to the first loop, and we were pretty much on target, even if we included the ten minutes or so break-time. Great! Off we went for loop #3.

The last 10 miles were difficult. We were both finally feeling really tired, both of us had tender toes (hers more so than mine as she stubbed them a few times on tree roots), both were getting hungry enough to want a burger, and both were exceedingly glad this was the last pass of the trail. The rain quit at mile 25. We stopped to high-five at the 26-mile point, figuring that was close enough to marathon distance to celebrate her first marathon, then got slogging along again...which is what we were doing by this point, slogging. However, we both agreed that it still wasn't a full-on suck just yet.

As usual, I had forgotten the Garmin, and she deliberately hadn't worn hers, but she had a phone with the time on it. We both felt like we were holding our pace pretty well; she checked the time, and if we pushed a bit, we could come in just under seven hours. However, we would have to do the last three miles in a little over 30 minutes. I really didn't think I had it in me, but the bug was planted. I know Jayne was thinking the same thing. Neither of us said anything, but I started pushing harder, taking shorter walk breaks, trudging up more inclines, and farther up them, before taking a walk break. Jayne stayed right on my heels.

We made it a little past mile 28 before I finally said, "OK, this sucks now!" Jayne agreed. We were both hurting. Our knees, ankles, hip extensors, feet, and toes were very unhappy and screaming at us to stop. But neither of us dared suggest looking at the time or slowing down. We both took a deep breath and kept moving.

 

Finally, 6 hours 58 minutes and 43 seconds after starting, we crossed the finish line together. Jayne won her age group on her first ultra and collected her award. We were both very happy to be done, and thrilled not to be doing the 50-miler. Those people are CRAZY!

1st loop: 2:15
2nd loop: 2:19 (includes break time)
3rd loop: 2:24:42 (includes break time)

A tale of two runners

It was a beautiful Saturday morning like many others. Today was a 15K trail run in the city's nicest park, and the weather was glorious. #585, a 54-year-old experienced trail runner, got up, followed his usual race morning routine, and arrived at the race site. He checked in, picked up his bib, pinned it to his shirt, and milled around with the rest of the runners until the race start.

The event was a casual one, the first of the season's series, and it was a relaxed air. There was a 5K and a 15K, which brought out a wide variety of participants. Runners of all ages and abilities loitered, some standing in the long porta-john lines, others enjoying the hot chocolate that was offered. It was still brisk enough to be a little uncomfortable if you weren't moving around, so some runners, like #599, sat in their cars to stay a little warmer.

Like #585, #599 was feeling good, enjoying the atmosphere, and ready to have a nice run in the woods. These two runners didn't know each other, but shared a passion. #599 was a 50-year-old woman who was thrilled to be able to contemplate a 9-mile trail run with the complacency of a nice afternoon walk, without stress, knowing she would feel terrific at the end.

Finally it was time to start, and the herd of approximately 230 runners took off in a giant pack. #585 was closer to the front; #599 closer to the back. Both were on pace to have a good day, relaxing for the first of three loops, letting the herd spread out a bit. The first mile was fairly slow, as runners had to slow down for a couple of obstacles. The lesser-experienced came to a full stop, which caused a backup. Because it was a casual, relaxed day, no one really seemed to mind, and everyone knew that it would spread out soon and there likely would be no more bottlenecks. The "serious" runners had already taken off like jackrabbits, anyway, and were far ahead of any potential slowdowns.

#599 took in the still-bare trees, the layer of multiple-shades-of-brown leaves on the ground, and the quiet sound of feet hitting dirt and occasionally crumpling some dry leaves. The runners rounded a bend, and there was a splendid view of blue water, with early-morning sun reflecting off of it. What a wonderful way to start a weekend! Both runners rejoiced in the divine feeling of physical activity, the connectedness with nature, the capacity to live.

After conquering the mud pit near the finish for the third time, #585 cruised in for a finish time of 1:23:51, at a pace of 8:59/mile, something #599 would envy. He enjoyed his finish, then sat down. #599 came in over 15 minutes later with a finish time of 1:39:01, a pace of 10:37/mile. She was quite content with that, as she had maintained a very steady pace for the three loops, and had actually done the third one a wee bit faster than the first two. She headed for the food line and settled in for the wait.

After a while, an ambulance arrived. Who are they picking up? What's going on? #599 watched as they loaded #585 onto the ambulance. He was a nice looking man, with a very tidy white beard and trim physique, and he was looking around, taking in what was happening to him. As the ambulance doors were closing, the race announcer told everyone that he had felt some chest pains, so they were taking him to get checked out. #599 and some other runners in line whispered their concern, and optimistically concluded that he likely would get checked out in the ER and sent home sometime later that day or the next, at home before the weekend was over.

#599 went home, content, and thoroughly enjoyed the rest of her weekend.

#585 never went home. His heart stopped when they loaded him onto the ambulance, and it never started again.

He didn't get in his car and drive it home, walk in the front door, and hug his wife. Didn't scratch the dog, say hello to the kitties, enjoy a hot shower. His weekend was over, far too early.

But he thoroughly enjoyed his last act on this planet: a trail run on a gloriously beautiful early spring day.

RIP #585.

How much fat are you REALLY burning?

Sometimes it's fun to geek out over data, but you have to have some data over which to geek out. So, today I did a test to try to nail down how much fat I burn during exercise vs. how much sugar. It's interesting information, and proves that endurance performance is all about efficiency.

Amy the trainer put me on a treadmill with a mask capturing my exhalations, measuring oxygen and CO2. Warmed up a couple of minutes at 3.5, 4.0, 4.5 mph. Finally got to 5.0 mph, then steadily increased the incline. The goal was to reach anaerobic threshold, then only stay there long enough to get three more measurements (less than a minute). Then cool down.

My heart rate (HR) was 60 while I was standing on the treadmill waiting to start. It took a 10% incline at 5.0 mph to reach threshold, and HR peaked at 141 then settled at 138. The HR dropped 15 beats in the first minute of cooldown, then another 9 in the second minute, which means I'm recovering quickly. So it looks like I need to spend more time training in lower zones w/some intervals thrown in, and try to raise VO2 (my peak HR/fat burning threshold) as much as I can. There is a genetic limit to how much this can change, but I can certainly try to become more efficient. Don't need to worry about the ticker; it's working just fine, and better than most.

The graph shows that my body burns fat at a fairly steady level with only a small decline until I hit peak. This is good. Goal is to raise that steady level to more than the current 40-50% of calories to 50-60%. Then I could probably go even longer with less perceived difficulty.

Bike workouts are definitely helping. Last night was half hour warmup followed by 8 intervals of 3 minutes in zone 5 (harder than "comfortably hard") with 3 minutes rest in between. Felt it but it didn't suck. Would have been incredibly painful a month ago, but last night I actually had something left in the tank when we were done.

I was surprised at the low heart rate today. I knew it would be lower to start, but didn't expect it to stay so low while exerting myself. Used to be up around 163 when I was running hard. And 65-70 if I was walking around. It's nice to see positive results from training. Tomorrow: a 15K trail run!