26.2--The Recovery

It’s now been over a week since Disney, and I think I’m more or less recovered. Last week was a little rough—I was pretty much wiped all week, although I have to admit I haven’t slept that soundly in a long time. I took it very easy from a training standpoint last week—a short swim Wednesday, a brief stationary bike ride Thursday, and a mile swim Friday, followed by a day off Saturday (had a baby shower for a cousin in Dubuque and then hung out with my mom afterward) and a 30 minute spin session on my trainer on Sunday. I’ll get the weekly wrap-ups for the past couple of weeks out at some point—maybe this weekend—but last week will be pretty much a goose egg across the board.

It seemed like every day last week brought a new ache or pain to the surface. Sunday after the race, my hamstrings and the outside of my thighs were fatigued, but didn’t hurt too much (although my hamstrings seized up pretty tight every time I tried to stand). Monday morning, my quads made their presence known in a big ugly way (and kept on screaming through Tuesday). Advil became my friend, stairs became frighteningly sadistic, and toilets—well, those were just plain mean (although following Vardo’s advice, they were a whole lot more manageable if they came in the handicapped stall with the arm rails). It was slow going, to say the least, and it seemed to amuse my work friends.

By Wednesday, my quads were back to a manageable level of discomfort, at which point my joints started whining a little—not too bad, but my knees and hips definitely took a beating during the run (to be expected, I guess). And, through it all, my two toes that had previously possessed the lovely black toenails continued their deformation—they were really hurting after the race and it appears I now have blisters on calluses on blisters on those toes. Other than the fact that, if I cared, I’ll be avoiding sandals for a while (and, incidentally, I don’t care, so I’ll wear sandals if I darn well please), my toes at least don’t hurt anymore. So, all told—I’m feeling good and seem to be recovered. I will admit, though, I’m glad Jeremy experienced similar aches and pains, and Erin and Vardo both validated my pain with tales of their marathon recoveries—not that I’m paranoid, but there is comfort in knowing my pain was normal.

On a side note, my co-workers and friends rock…Theresa decorated both Jeremy’s and my cubes with congratulation banners, confetti, and ribbon, and my friend Renee coordinated with other co-workers and bought me a beautiful bouquet of flowers on Tuesday. I took my medal and photos to my WW meeting last week for some show and tell—it was pretty cool to share with that group as they are a huge reason why I am where I am today. Ed, our leader, gave me 26 Bravo stars (little silver star stickers we get when we try something new, have a non-scale victory, etc.)—he said they can’t compare with the Mickey medal, but I have to admit I don’t know that I agree with that—they’ll be going in my scrapbook (assuming I actually do one at some point) along with the rest of my race stuff. He also compared weight loss to a marathon—starts out pretty easy, gets a little rough, can involve slamming into a wall, but the finish makes it all worthwhile. A pretty fitting analogy, I think…

So, back to reality. We started IM training yesterday—so far, so good, but I can tell I haven’t spent enough time on the bike lately (the “sit bones” are screaming—will be moving to bike shorts instead of tri shorts for a little while to let things adjust), nor have I spent any time on swim drills, which seem to take forever. But, it’s all in the name of progress, and with two days down, it does indeed seem progressive. Weird to think that I’m training for something in September, but then again, it’s pretty weird to think that I’m training for IM at any time. Such is life…and what a good life it is…