The First Week...

All in all, I would have to say that the first week of training was relatively anticlimactic (you know, other than being stuck for a marathon stint [ha] in my car).
I guess I expected something to happen- to feel more badass, for one of my legs to fall off...something. The only thing that really happened from all of this was that I have already begun to miss running. This whole week, I've been driving to work with my swimsuit (or bike) in my trunk, feeling jealous of those suckers who are dressed all in spandex (sometimes reflective spandex), getting in a run before the crack of dawn. There's something about braving the cold, and about getting in a really hard workout outside, that just can't be beat in the pool or on the bike trainer. Kristin Armstrong said in her Runner's World blog recently:
"In the midst of regular life, running is the touchstone that breathes adventure into my soul. I can feel the trail under my feet, the press of the hill, the gallop of the track, the burn of my lungs, the stir of wonder and possibility. Running reminds me that there is more to me than what is readily apparent much of the time."
I guess what I'm saying, in a round about way, is that the beginning of this grand adventure is feeling...well, less than adventurous right now. The bike trainer is not exactly sexy (and you're talking to a girl who would argue that mile repeats definitely are...), and the I'm having a hard time letting my pool workouts help me feel "the stir of wonder and possibility". I know that I'll feel those things when I get outside (really, it's the outside that does it...no one ever has an "adventure" at the gym [except maybe in the locker room at Bally's but that's another story...]), but I'm having trouble equating my indoor life right now to the pull of adventure and possibility that got me into this whole mess in the first place.