more than a hundred bucks

heap big tri this weekend, so it's Taper Time. tapering after a recovery week doesn't make much sense, but if twenny years of racing has taught me anything, it's listen what yer body says. if you listen and follow its advice so much the better.

swam a straight 1000yd for time today, knocking a couple seconds off each 200 to finish in 14:49. not blazing, but under 3:00 per 200. even more impressive is the fact that i swam 20 laps and didn't lose count. on a monday morning, too.

after a horrendous week, legs and spirits seem to be rebounding a bit. the "deep well of fatigue" i felt in my legs is dissipating -- and just in time, too. with its rolling bike course and hilly run, columbia's tough enough on perky legs. stopped by DRC friday afternoon and bought a new pair of racing flats. "whenever you have a crappy race, blame the shoes and get new ones," opined MM -- always a credible authority, even if, as an owner of a running store, he may have ulterior motives. the poor guy is injured now, with a torn soleus incurred at broad street last week. he was leading at mile 7 when he felt in his right calf the flick that presages a hobbling seizure. he soldiered for a hundred yards and then told the lead motorcycle he was pulling out. the marshall looked at him like he was nuts, then radioed in. "the leader is pulling out... the LEADER just pulled out.... that's right.... do i look like i know??"

M retreated to the sidelines and became a spectator. he is a much bigger man than me: i would have stormed off -- as stormily as possible with a torn calf muscle -- and drowned in my own sulky sorrows.

on saturday i raced a 5K just to see if, after last week's deathmarch tri where i ran 7:23 miles and felt like poo, i could still feel good running. the race was 10min from my bed, on a course i like (over the ribber and through the woods), for a good cause. finally, the main sponsor is a local brewery which offers a fine post-race repast, with free GOOD beer (pig iron porter, mmmm. fuck celiac, man).

when i did this race last year, i went head-to-head with the steeple-chaser's fiance and set a 33-sec PR, breaking 19min for the first time in a 5K. this year, i finished 10sec slower, but i still won, and i felt GOOD. i felt so good at 2miles that i got goosebumps. M was right about the shoes.

when i hit the 3-mile mark i was ready to be done, though. i'd been chasing a 14-year-old kid for a half-mile and the little fucker would not let me pass him. he beat me by 3sec.

for a cooldown, i circled round and ran backwards on the course, watching the stream of humanity finishing. people of all shapes, ages and expectations careened, shuffled and drooped toward the finish line. kids at the finish line hollered and shook signs: "Dad you ROCK" and "go mom! we are puling [sic] for you!" some were ecstatic to finish in under 30 minutes; some were ecstatic just to finish. some walked. some walked with headphones singing to themselves. a group of college kids set up such a din when their friend approached the line that you'd have thought she'd just won the new york marathon instead of running a community 5k in 36 minutes.

"i won a gift certificate to iron hill," i told my mom afterward, "but if i'd done the 5K down in wilmington, i could have walked away with $100 cash." "it sounds like you got a lot more out of your race than a hundred bucks," my mom rejoined. that's why she is the mom. she's wise.