VanderTri.com

I'm in the final push to IMC.  This past week was a big week, not my biggest in terms of volume or time but seriously big in terms of the combination of volume and intensity and just plain suffering.

The week opened up on Tuesday with some hard running.  30 minute negative tempo, 10 min warmup, 30 minutes at a good clip of 6:49/mile pace then I heated it up for the same 4.4 miles I had just covered at 6:18/mile pace followed by a 10 minute cooldown.  It was comfortable, that in and of itself is a little scary.

Wednesday was a nice solid swim of 4K comprised primarily of 6 x 500 all of which were near my fastest ever for that distance. That was followed up later with a nice little 2 hour ride, nothing big just easy tempo.

Thursday was another good solid run of a little over an hour with a bunch of fartleks.  Another solid run.

On Friday I headed south to Hood River.  I arrived early and headed out on a nice little 5.5 hour ride.  East I headed out past The Dalles, the wind was light, slightly overcast, feeling perfect.  Up over the top of State Road.  As I started down the crazy descent I noticed the wind had picked up, it was a white knuckle descent but just a tast of things to come.  I headed out through The Dalles and onto 7 mile road before turning onto Emerson Loop.  Cruising along at a flat section feeling great holding 28 mph, damn I feel good.  After turning onto Kelly Cutoff I understood why I felt so good a few minutes earlier, as I headed west I came to a standstill.  The wind was raging in my face, I was working huge effort and only moving at 6 mph (on the flats).  Twice I was actually blown to a standstill by the gusts and twice blown off the road.  Now I'm not the most sensible person and sometimes I just like to suffer well this is a bad combination as I came back I debated and headed out for another loop, just plain stupid. I realized the error of my way about halfway through the second loop.  At the conclusion of the second loop I then realized that I still had 25 miles of riding directly into the teeth of the wind (I would only find out later that the reported average in The Dalles was 46 mph with gusts to into the 60's).  It was pure suffering, the only time I've ever been scared on my bike, and much windier than anything Kona and the Queen K can throw at you.  The only highlight was riding up to the Rowena Butte.  Riding uphill (7%) grade as I turned around a switchback the wind was at my back, I going uphill at 14 mph, not pedaling.....sweet, but it only lasted for about 50 yards.  I was cooked, fried and pretty much done and never wanting to get on the bike again.

Saturday started off a little stiff but I headed out early for a nice little run.  I ran a new route on Klickitat trail which goes along the Klickitat River.  One of my best runs ever.  The trail climbs at 1% for I don't know how long but I went 9 miles before turning around.  It was beautiful, peaceful and relaxing.  18 miles of pure bliss.  After a quick nap and food I headed out a nice little ride.  I found a ride which is supposed to be good for windy days.  The ride headed out towards Mt. Adams and started off climbing for the first 20 miles for 3000 feet (into the wind....sigh).  The road was beautiful however, butter smooth and almost no cars.  I was supposed to hit a turn off but never got to it as the road turned to gravel before I got to the turn, so I turned around to head back the way I came.  After climbing for another 2000 feet I started my descent with a tailwind.  It was a nice way to end a tough day, riding for 15 miles averaging 35 mph, probably the most fun I've ever had on the bike just flat out going fast with not much effort.  When I was done though I was tired, dog tired.

Sunday going to be another good ride effort.  Again I found a new ride that again was supposed to be good on windy days.  It was definitly better wind-wise but the ride was anything but easy, it climbed for the first 30 miles, nearly 5000 ft of climbing in total.  The ride went onto the approach of Mt. Hood.  I finally turned onto a fire road called Wathum Lake Road and then onto Branch Lake Road.  It became clear early this road didn't see a lot of traffic as there was debris all over the road and a few weeds growing in the cracks.  At one point I looked up and the road just continued to climb straight up for what seemed like ever.  The ride as bit eerie as I was very alone climbing through the forest on the deserted road.  I finally rounded a bend in the road and I suddenly wasn't alone, rumbling down the road towards me about 100 feet in front of me as a huge black bear.  I began yelling "go home bear" and waving my arm, only later did it dawn on me that telling the bear to go home probably didn't make much sense to the bear since he was home.  The bear reared up on his hind legs looked at me for moment, then in a single instant motion he turned and began galloping up the road and into the woods.  I was glad he ran away because with the speed that bear was running I would have been toast if he decided I was lunch.  I rode past where he went into the woods and continued checking over my shoulder to make sure the bear hadn't had a change of heart.  Just about the time my HR had come back to reasonable level I looked up the road and what do I see....another bear, this one was much smaller just as scared of me.  That was the highlight of the weekend.

Needless to say it was a tough week and a hard weekend of training, but I'll put those hard efforts in the bank for three weeks from now.  Just 250 miles on the bike and 40 miles of running and a little swimming.  This coming week will be some pretty serious swim volume and still as solid volume week but the taper is underway.