It’s been a week since last and it’s been a good week. A little bit of everything. Food, drinks, sun, swimming in the lake… a week of recovery. I read a few books and watched 4 seasons of White Collar. We are obsessed. Who doesn’t love Neal Caffrey/Nick Halden/Matt Bomer?
I’ve been tired in a jetlag kind of way. A long race gets to you one way or another. Yes, I am admitting that I am tired, sore, done and I write this only because I don’t think my teammates will read this. It’s one thing to feel tired but it’s another thing to admit it. Last week I found myself falling asleep everywhere. Not because of any time difference or traveling to a faraway continent, my Skalman clock just said sleep every other hour. Sitting comfortable, leaning against a wall or laying down and I woke up 2 hours later drooling. Not pretty. It’s part of that post race depression that happens every time I do something grande. It doesn’t matter how good or bad it’s been, I always feel like running a 100 miler, bike up the Himalayas or sail to another continent (and I don’t know how to sail). It usually passes before I sign up for something stupid but the uneasy feeling stays for a few weeks. The feeling of I have no life and nothing is fun. Along with listening to very strange music and baking a lot of cinnamon buns. But it’s all better now, I got my bike in for a tune up yesterday. New brake pads and some TLC. The bike-guy with the very large earrings asked if I drowned my bike in water and rolled it in sand. I sure did, 30something river crossings and a sandy trail to finish it off. He thought I was kidding.
I forced myself to get out on the bike a few times last week and took a few classes at the gym with a taped up foot and the left arm dangling by my side. I gave in and got an x-ray of my foot (old fracture, lots and lots of oldladyritis and swelling). And I ended up in physical therapy again, trying to wake up my elbow and hand that seems to have died the big nerve death again. I so wish I was 25. Or maybe not.
After a week of resting my foot I went out on the trails today. A short hour run on a soft trail, gravel, railroad tracks and grey skies. I was minding my own business and listened to a Husky podcast, an interview with Freddie Meadows (Swedish surfer) when a deer stepped out blocking my way. He took a few steps and stopped a few yards from me and turned his head. Well, hello there. I stopped and got my headphones out and asked if he felt like moving. I’ve meet a lot of deer but they usually keep moving, this one wanted company. I thought if it was a good idea to pass him, and if so is it safe to go behind him. I’ve never heard if kicking deer but you never know. He didn’t move an inch until I reached out and touched him. End of story, I kept running, he stood there looking bored waiting for another runner to bug. So, watch out for the deer beside the Willows golf course beside the water. He is one friendly guy. So the question is, how do you pass a deer without getting trampled?
From me to you, Kenny and Wyclef