Taper? I HARDLY KNOW HER!

Nationals is on the way, which can mean only one thing: COOKIES! Wait, no, that would be if Cookie Monster was on the way. Nationals is more conducive to spandex and shaved legs. So while Cookie Monster may be absent, after reading the last sentence Bert and Ernie booked a trip to Richmond.


So, a week out from the big race, here are some ruminations:

1. For Nationals, I am attempting a full taper for the first time in my athletic life. In the past, I have done easier runs/bikes for a week or so before big events, but for this one I am in the midst of a 2 week calculated reduction in work load. It has really been different. It is so bad that in between eating cheese and protesting their 5 hour workday, French laborers were quoted saying that I am lazy. This is damning because those socialists only do something productive when their miming routine is particularly effective and they can't get out of the box.

2. The race is a 5k-38k-5k format, which is a mixed bag in terms of my skill set. I am most confident with my run (when matched against the big boys), and the heavy skew to the bike is a little intimidating. Granted, I have the Mercury now, which is like when Han Solo got the Millennium Falcon, or when Lance Armstrong first injected grain silos worth of performance enhancers. ALL OF A SUDDEN I AM FAST.
(This picture was on my hard drive. I don't remember why:)

3. Nationals will be my first race breaking out Bone Dreamcrusher on a big stage. He was created a few months after this race last year, where a demoralizing DNF led me to recalculate my mental and physical perspective on racing. What I came away with was this---Racing is a celebration. I really am not an externally motivated person, and goals relating directly to performance or perception are a hindrance to my success. The one thing about Bone is that he understands how to relax and enjoy the moment. That is what Nationals is for me--a party where I get to see friends (some of the blog readers!) and attempt to feel the euphoria of an amazing day.

When reached for comment, Bone Dreamcrusher had the following message for fellow racers:

Hey Jackasses! The reason they call it Du-athlon is that you soil your pants when you see me at the start line. For your sake, thank god it's not a tri because pooping your wetsuit makes for an unpleasant swim. After all, this race is in Richmond and the only way Detroit of the South could become less agreeable is if a thousand carb-loaded athletes simultaneously released their bowels in the James River. And seriously, the "James" River? This is Richmond, the capital of the Confederacy. None of the Larry the Cable Guy impersonators that refer to the South as home have been called James since they were busy donating blankets to Native Americans. From now on, it's the more culturally appropriate Jimbo River. GIT RRR DONNNNNEEEE.

Training:
Saturday: 6 miles easy
Sunday: 45 minutes trainer with 7 mile run

P.S. If you will be down for the race, email or comment! I'd love to get in touch with some of you. Hope training/life is perfect in every way :)