Yesterday was my second training ride with my Triathlon Training Group. We rode 38.5 miles (it was supposed to be 40, but a mile and a half must have fallen out somewhere) around Lake Washington to Renton and back to Seattle. It was a beautiful ride. A bit chilly, but we didn't get any rain. After the ride we transitioned into a 20 minute run. I actually felt pretty good after the entire thing! I was surprised.

So after yesterday's ride and short brick run, my legs were feeling pretty good. I didn't have to spend the last ten miles out of the saddle because of a painful hoo-area, and was actually feeling pretty darn buff. So today I decided that my legs just had NOT had enough torture for one weekend and thought "Well I'll go out and just run as far as I feel like it, and when I feel I can't run any more Roy can get the car and I'll go home." Of course I should know myself better than that by now. My long run for the week was 18 miles and the "Freak Tory" is not going to NOT do 18 miles, by GOD!

Soooo...at 88th I figured I'd just cut over to Starbucks and do about six miles. At 116th I thought nine miles might suffice so maybe I'd just do that. But would I stop? No, my inner freak kept going. Turned around at ten miles, back towards 116th, figured that would be 14 and would be "enough" but no. Decided to run it in to Haggens and call it a day, figuring that would be around 17...but if I was THAT close, why wouldn't I just run past half a mile and run back. Somehow Dude (Garmin) paused himself at mile 17.17 so when I looked down a bit later and it was STILL 17.17 I grrrrred, turned him back on and kept going for a total of 18.34.

My legs and I have filed a legal separation. I tried to coax them back into the house with an hour long soak in the tub and a german chocolate brownie, but no. I think a divorce is pending.

I think tomorrow shall be a rest day....