Last Friday, I did a 7.5km road run. Saturday was project day: I continued working on my cross stitch project and started sewing an oven mitt. Sunday, I did a 73km ride outside (average temperature 4°C/39°F). Yesterday, I finished the oven mitt and then ran up a mountain (9.5km). This morning, I raced in virtual France with the RIOT ladies (31km).
My crowning achievement over the past few days, however, was mailing my AFI card application. The only envelopes I had on hand were cutesy stationery envelopes featuring cartoon cats navigating a tiny pirate ship, or neon yellow card envelopes, both of which were too small for my needs. I stopped by a Canada Post outlet to pick up the proper #10 envelopes and noticed they offered ones with built-in postage. After I’d paid for those, I ripped off the plastic wrapper and wrote my address on the upper left corner of one of the envelopes. As I unfolded my application to find the mailing address, I discovered that the destination was a mere ten-minute walk from where I was.
Oh boy.
Perhaps that’ll count as bonus proof of my disability.
Still, I felt victorious as I slipped the envelope into the mailbox. This task has appeared on my to-do list multiple times over the past year. At last, I’ve crossed it off.
BC Ferries AFI card application.
Oooh. Ahh.
My legs did not feel good during this morning’s warm up in Tempus Fugit. I was tempted to warn my teammates, but one of them had just gotten home from an international flight and was about to race on 2.5 hours of sleep. I opted to shut up and hope for the best.
Today was Team Time Trial day: the team’s finish time is based on the fourth rider to cross the finish line. With six riders (the maximum number), two of us could afford to be dropped. With 3km to go, it was my turn to pull. “Skip,” I typed in my phone. After two minutes of riding as the 4th wheel, I thought I was ready to take the lead again, but at that point, we’d hit the final climb, and I was quickly dropped to the 5th wheel. Then, the gap in front of me grew too large to bridge with the little power I had left in my legs. Around the same time, another teammate resigned to being left behind (and it wasn’t Our Lady of 2.5 Hours of Sleep!). Although I was still a part of the winning team, I finished 45 seconds behind the first rider past the banner.
When racing in Zwift, as soon as you finish, this screen pops up:
My power numbers don’t even suggest that I’d raced on fatigued legs! 4.2 watts per kilogram for 20 minutes is on par with my performances in past races. Have I plateaued?
Tomorrow HAS to be a rest day. I’ll use it to make another oven mitt—not to have a matching pair, but so that I can toss what I’m resisting the urge to call “a disappointment” and instead call “the prototype”. 1000 hours to mastery and such.
In fancy bitch news, the face cream I ordered arrived this morning, so I get to repeat this:
Oooh. Ahhh.
squaremeat.com 