Linda would say I'm dithering. Bah!
Sunday into an almost empty long course pool. Stuff. I did stuff, but the only thing I remember is playing with fish stroke a little bit. I think it's faster. It feels faster, but I'm hardly flexible enough to do it well. Plus I don't have the aerobic endurance to do it for very long, so there's that.
It was smoking hot all weekend so I didn't do much other than the run and swim. Rolled the soft ball on my butt, and worked on trying to get my back to crickle crackle. No real luck there.
Monday was a quiet work day. Since Penn West office is closed Thursday and Friday, most staff have taken the whole week off. It's amazing how much more productive I was. I managed to finish off two tasks that I thought would take both days. Imports into Maximo are so picky. I found out my one import was failing because I didn't end each line with a ",0,0". The other one failed because a particular reference number wasn't in the data twice. Picky picky picky.
Tuesday I was worked over by my wonderful massage therapist. There was a huge knot in my low back. Plus tight hams, and one really tight adductor muscle. Really tight. I whimpered. I'd been thinking about going for a run afterward, but when I could barely walk from the car after a long drive home I gave up on that idea.
Turned out there had been flash flooding so Glenmore trail was flooded where it dips under MacLeod Trail. Completely closing that road leads to chaos on every other road anywhere around it. I was envying my buddy that rode from work and avoided the whole darned thing. Once upon a time I used to have a massage therapist that traveled to my house. That was lovely. Pity she moved to New Brunswick.
Wednesday I ran, 5K, 33:30, trying to keep my cadence up. My legs felt heavy, weak, feeble. My hams and butt were on strike, I think. They didn't want to run.
Which leads to the blog title. There I was, tending salmon on the barbecue, and being offered a chance to ride with a buddy tomorrow. Do I go or not? I'm not really feeling up to it at the moment, but I could get a good night's sleep (stop snickering!) and be ready for action tomorrow. Or not. I was trying to have it both ways, saying I'd get in touch in the morning, but really, I should make up my mind. Commit or don't commit.
Or as some people say, shit or get off the pot. Which leads to performance anxiety of a wholly unexpected kind at races. There's a huge lineup, and a limited number of porta potties. I digress. This is one of those things I want to do, but it's getting closer to race day. I really should focus on my swim, since that's what I'll be doing July 26. Doing something that might interfere with training is a bad idea. I don't want to let down my relay partner.
I have been thinking about other races. Not before the 70.3 relay of course. I might get through an Oly ok, and there are a few to choose from, but I'm done doing races with the aim of just completing them. Even though I'm getting old and decrepit, I'd like to get up into the middle of the pack for my age group. I still want to do a marathon, and I noted it's 333 days till a nice one here in town. I wonder if I can build from about 8.5 K per hour, which is a 5 hour marathon if I could keep the pace (I can't right now) in 11 months.
I had a great idea for The Bone in the Digester, and have been busy writing in a couple scenes that need doing, and tweaking some others. I hope at the end I have a coherent love story with a side of mystery. I've only been working on this for about 20 years, so you'd think I'd have it figured out, but no. Part of the problem is that the plant itself was trying to be a character, and while it worked for me, and might work for anyone that's operated that plant, it wasn't going to work for the casual reader. I've been cutting out plant bits, and adding people bits. I think this makes it much more interesting.
My big need is an opening. I first started with the actual discovery of the bone in the digester. It's a great opening, wonderful atmosphere, except that it starts with two minor characters that barely appear again. The major character doesn't come into it till a bit later, and even then you don't really know she is the major character. Plus it's very planty. Then I rewrote a minor disaster. This had the advantage of meeting Dwen right up front, but it's a plant opening and a bit icky. The thing that happens chronologically first is the job interview where Dwen is hired. Even cut down, I'm not sure it's a good opener.
Hmmm. Maybe tweaking the piece I'm writing now. What do you think of this as an opening line? “Sit down, Dwen, you’re making me nervous.”
We had a really strong thunderstorm come through about 3 am. I could hear it off in the distance, then closer. Then Closer, and CLOSER! I got up to shut the window just in time. For a short while there was lots of wind and rain with a tiny bit of hail, along with an amazing lightning show. The white peony was already losing it's blossoms, and the rain pretty well finished them off. It looks kind of sad now, but the red one is doing very well.
Here's the Canada Day BBQ salmon and salad. It's really good wrapped up in herbs with a bit of butter, wrapped in tinfoil, and left on low heat for a while. Don't be silly, of course there was wine.
I understand being past the point of just wanting a participation ribbon at races. Before my knees exploded, my goals were to start racing solid mid-pack too. I think it would be a realistic goal for both of us-challenging, yet doable (I'll have to wait until I see the knee surgeon first). Good luck!
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