Okay, you bastards.
I have finally succumbed to your
blandishments and starting running again.
Conclusion? I'm
old,
tired, I have no
wind, no
stamina, no sprint, my joints are fer shite, and my
ass is larger than it was in high school. Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play?
I realized that
The Hike from Hell is a month away today, and if I plan not to make a fool of myself after all my
backcountry talk, I need to get this
booty to be slightly less
ample.
SOooooo, I'm training for a
triathalon in the fall, probably the Nike Womens in Sacramento. (Brrr, American River, 66 degrees. Mebbe I wear a wetsuit this time....) I don't want to run more than three miles, since the arthritis in the right knee is getting worse, but I can shoot for three.
My goal? The whole sheebang, under 2 hours, 40 minutes.
Swimming in 40 minutes or less.
Bike, 12 miles, can't remember my last time.
Run, I want to be able to run three miles in under 24 minutes (this is on a dare) and beat Johnny Goodyear out of that trophy. For the race, I'll be satisfied with under 30 minutes.
Better get your
keysters in gear,
boys, I'm on your trail.