5 Years a Blogger

So this happened.


TODAY IS MARATHON AND A SPRINT DAY! Imma hashtag the snot out of that! #marathonandsprintday Yippeee! Lobster rolls and IPAs for everyone! FIVE YEARS.  I can’t believe it. Tina and I started this blog 5 damn years ago on this very day.  What a fun day! I’ll never forget it. She called me on the phone.  The actual phone. As in, my land line. We weren’t wildly texting every 7 minutes like we are now.  Or using emojis. That’s how long ago it was. The internet existed. That much I know.  Anywho, she telephoned me with a crazy little idea….

Colby. It’s T. How’s about we start a blog? You’re bored. I need a creative outlet. We both run. We love it. We both ride. And. We both think we’re goddamn HI. LARIOUS. I love to write. You love to swear…. COME ON!!!  Whaddya think?

-Tina

And voila! Our fun, little, irreverent, snarky, sassy adventure blog was born. Thank god I started blogging again and reset my wordpress password. I would have totally missed this shit.

When you run Boston with your best friend 💛💙

The posts. Oh, the posts. Some silly, some serious, all in our own voices. I never look at blog stats. I’m sure that statement rescinds my Blogger Card, but I really don’t. Until tonight. I sifted through our “top” posts- a lot of which aren’t even my most favorite. *See my face plant and Tina’s allergic reaction below.* Those are two of my faves because they were 100% real. Real Colby and Real Tina. Uncensored. That’s not to say the others are #fakeblogs. They’re not. Those two were a couple of the MOST hysterical and memorable moments from the past few years. Christ. I had plastic surgery. ON MY FACE. Tina blew up like a puffer fish, put on her sunnies, took a handful of Benedryl and ran a marathon 4 hours later. Who does that? Of course Tina’s First Boston and selfishly my first Boston posts pretty much make me cry with joy every time I reread them. Those are biggies. Here are our top 10 most popular posts from the past 5 Years according to the numbahs.

  1. The Importance of Meeting Ernest
  2. Top 5 Reasons Why You Need to Do the Fenway Spartan Sprint
  3. Jellybeans: The Next Superfood?
  4. And then I exhaled.
  5. Is Anyone Ever The Biggest Winner?
  6. Top 10 Moments Riding in the Pan Mass Challenge
  7. Trader Joe is a crack dealer.
  8. An Open Letter to the Lady in the Way Too Huge Cotton Tee
  9. The Secret of the Pan Mass Challenge
  10. Brighten Up! 6 High Visibility Items for Running in Low Light

So, in summary, reviewing our past 5 years T-Bone and I have…

  • Run dozens of half marathons together. Seriously. So many combined.
  • PR’d in every damn distance- 5k, 20k, Half Marathon and Marathon
  • Run Marine Corps, Vermont City, New York, Philadelphia, Big Sur, Baystate, BOSTON (!!!) and more!
  • Met Bloggers in Real Life- and consider them friends! ❤️
  • Ridden several thousand miles all in the name of kicking cancer’s ass
  • Run a snowshoe 10k in sub-zero temps up a mountain in Vermont
  • Run an Ultra Marathon (Colby)
  • Run Spartan Races and Warrior Dashes galore!
  • Wound up in the ER (Colby) with stitches after face planting during a 20 miler
  • Discovered Hanson’s Marathon Method and both wept with pure joy and absolute exhaustion at the discovery
  • Would up with a massive allergic reaction (Tina) from ingesting no-frills-low-budget nuts the night before a marathon
  • Ran, rode, traveled, trained, reached goals, cried, complained, crashed and burned and qualified- together. I love you, T-Bone!!! ❤️
  • Had a hell of a lot of fun meeting a fantastic community of other Crazies (You) who are passionate about running, friendship and living life loud. Muahhhh! ❤️

Here’s to 5 more years! We may blog. We may take time outs. We may rant. And we may rave. But odds are, we’ll do it together. Thank you for follow along. ☺️ CHEERS, POODLES!!!

Xoxo,

Colby

It starts with one.

One blog post. After 6 months of not posting.

One trail race. After running the race of my dreams.

One goat yoga class. After realizing my hip flexors were so tight I could play the opening chords of Stairway to Heaven on them. (And because baby goats. Let’s be honest.)

One amazing dirtbag adventure. After months of planning with The Gang.

One 200 mile bike ride across the great state of Massachusetts. After committing to kick cancer’s ass in my 13th Pan Mass Challenge.

One week spent in Wellfleet eating oysters and drinking delicious IPAs. After riding said cancer fighting bike like a Cancer Fighting Boss.

One time out.
To regroup.
Reset.
Reassess.
And say…
Now Fucking What?

mrs roperI think there comes a time after accomplishing a goal when you’re left a little dumbfounded.  Maybe dumbfounded isn’t quite right. Stunned? Stupefied? Dazed? All of the above?!  You may even find yourself a little lost. Funny. You think the momentum of achieving a goal would buoy you into setting another. But alas, Poodles. It did not. Not for me. The tide did not work that way for Colby. I stayed kinda still. Sure. I basked in the achievement. I even did stuff. Athletic stuff. And then I wandered around my own head a bit.

 

Boston was the cherry on the tippity top of my sundae. A big old exclamation point at the end of a long run on sentence. Even though I didn’t have the race I trained for, I had the race of my dreams. I felt so damn fulfilled afterwards. Like, if I never ran another step I would be OK with that. I felt like I had come so far. That my training was the best I had ever done. I felt like I was in The Fittest I had ever been. And it would have been ok if I never ran again. Hung up my Hokas and sat the eff down.  Because I felt like I was at the top of my game. And that wasn’t even with a PR. 

That was really how I felt. About running. About where I was at that point and time. I was all set. I know. Crazy talk. But true. And seeing as how I’m being honest and all, my body was honestly beaten down to a goddamn pulp after Boston. Totally broken. I was exhausted. I needed a time out. Big time. So I put my Hansons Marathon Method book back on the shelf- where I could still see her- and ran when I wanted to. Not because I had to. And I rode my bike. A lot. I hiked a ton and even managed to do some yoga. I even have been hitting the trails. But now, I’m getting a lil’ antsy.

It’s time.

I think I’ve asked myself – So now what, Colby? About a million times since running Boston. I’ve run, raced, yoga’d with baby goats (EPIC!), traveled, ridden, laughed with My Other Half and tooled around town with Drunk Otis Brown for months. But now. I think it’s time to jump back IN.  Into what,  I’m not sure. A kiddie pool of unicorns and BQs? A race in another part of the world? A half marathon PR?  Another stab at an ultra?  I’m not sure yet. But I’m ready. Stay tuned.

To being back! Cheers, Friends!

Have you ever found yourself semi-paralyzed after achieving a goal? Or, do you set another one right away, raising the bar higher? 

PMC Training and Gardening with Drunk Otis. 

It’s raining cats and dogs. Like, pouring out. Sheets of rain. Drunk Otis, who spent the entire weekend either swimming in streams, belly flopping in puddles or lounging in his kiddie pool “helping” me weed, apparently is afraid to go outside to pee in the rain. So instead, he just lifted his leg on the porch. About an inch from his sister, Evil Beagle. Girl was not amused. She responded by biting him on the face. I can’t say I blame her. 

Hey, Lady. You gonna clean my pool or what?

In addition to Gardening with Drunk Otis, which ended with me sprinting around the yard swearing at him while a gallon container of delphiniums dangled from his mouth, I got in a nice long bike ride.  Which I really need to do more of, considering I will be riding in my 12th Pan Massachusetts Challenge in a few months. Funny how it sneaks up on me every year. I usually ride with my Other Half, which is on par with riding the Giro D’Italia or any other European Classic. Saturday, I rode alone.

Prior to my Other Half, in what I like to refer to as Colby’s Life Part One, I did all of my training alone. Much like my running. In Colby’s Life Part Deux in 3-D, we ride together. And I love it. There are some days though, I adore a solo ride. I just kicked off fundraising for the PMC, a two day almost 200 mile ride across Massachusetts, aimed at funding life-saving cancer research at the Dana Farber Cancer Institute. Kicking off fundraising means I wrote my annual appeal which means I get very contemplative. I always do when I think about why I ride. Especially when I put words to my feelings. It chokes me up. Cancer always does. 

Both Tina and I have written several posts on the Pan Mass Challenge. In fact, they are some of our most read. Take a minute and give them a read. 

And you’ll understand when I say that being a part of the PMC Family means the absolute world to me.  We are all riding together, unified by our common goal- our desire to put an end to cancer. There is such amazing, selfless energy that weekend. Such passion. Such emotion. For that one weekend, we are a part of something great.  It’s so very palpable. We are making a difference in the cancer research landscape one pedal stroke at a time. I feel that. I believe that. And I am honored to be a part of it. 

Riding #StirlingStrong!


Do you have a cause near and dear to your heart? Ride 100 miles or run a marathon? GO! 

 Hate cancer? Me too. To donate to my ride: Click HERE

Don’t forget to enter our Skratch Labs Hydration Pack Giveaway! Click HERE for link to ENTER! 

Skratch Labs. We’ve Got a Giveaway Up in Here!



Skratch LabsIn celebration of Global Running Day, which also happens to dovetail sweatingly with The Hottest Half Marathon I Have Ever Survived, we here at It’s a Marathon AND a Sprint thought it appropriate to do a Skratch Labs Hydration Pack Give Away!!! Skratch Labs  has been my go-to for all things hydration for the past 6 years. Girlfriend is brand loyal. Because when you find good stuff, you stick with it.

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Skratch Labs Giveaway Hydration Pack! All this can be yours!

Back in the day, I knew it as Secret Drink Mix. How badass was that? I felt like a hydrated spy on my whip.  It was big among cyclists who wanted an alternative to what was on the market. It was known as a hydration mix that was easy on the belly and made from “skratch”- no coloring agents, artificial sweeteners, synthetic flavoring agents or excess chemicals. In short, real stuff. Good stuff. For that reason, I tried it.

What followed was a borderline obsession with all things Skratch Labs. These hydration mixes, and since last year, their fruit chews, have fueled me through centuries, half-marathons, marathons, snow shoe races, an ultra marathon and all the way to a BQ. I found a unicorn whilst hydrating with Skratch Labs. #truestory. I chug the Exercise Hydration Mix before, during and after exercise. I’m partial to raspberry, but all of the flavors are delicious- pineapple especially.  The matcha + lemons hydration mix is the only one that contains natural caffeine. Zing! They also make an apples and cinnamon hydration mix which is sipped hot. It’s a hug in a cup. Actually, it’s a hug in a non-GMO + gluten free + dairy free + vegan + kosher + delicious cup.

Skratch Labs for days!

And if you enter this give away?

You’ll get a taste of all of them!

With hydration requirements reaching a fever pitch, HELLO SUMMER!, we thought it was time to put together a Skratch Labs Hydration pack. We care about you. Stay hydrated, Poodles. So go on, enter away.  Giveaway ends June 8th at 11:59pm! We’re linking up with the lovely Erica and Smitha to #WinAllThePrizes in their #Giveaway Roundup! Check them out. Tons o’ giveaways! Click on the Rafflecopter link below to enter! And good luck!

Skratch Labs Rafflecopter giveaway!

Some rules. Otherwise, I’d just toss the stuff around like pixie dust. Or better yet, glitter.

Giveaway ends June 8th at 11:59 PM EST. Open to Residents of the US only.  Prizes cannot be shipped to PO Boxes. Winner will be selected by Random.org and be notified by email. The product provided for the review was free of charge from Skratch Labs.  Colby is a Skratch Labs Taste Agent, however, her opinions, of which she has many, are her own and were not influenced by any form of compensation. We do not share or sell information and will use any information only for the purpose of contacting the winner. 

 

 

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Dr. Everything’ll Be Alright

Dearly Beloved,
We are gathered here today
2 get through this thing called…

Running.

.prince gif.gif

What. Too soon?

Oh, Prince. Such very sad news. Heart breaking. The guy was a genius. And Purple Rain was the first R-rated movie I ever saw. I thought I was soooooo cool afterwards. I even tried to make Apollonia my middle name but my Mom wasn’t having it.  I have been listening to and singing Prince all week. It’s on repeat in my head and on shuffle on my iPhone. “Let’s Go Crazy” has been officially added to my “Run Fast Colby!” playlist. Unfortunately, Colby Running Fast has not been on repeat. It’s been on skip.

I actually contemplated hanging up my Hoka’s this week. I’m not even fooling. Hang ’em up and put on my new cycling kicks and ride off into the sunset. Screw it. I’m gonna ride bikes instead. I’m done. I had- hands down– THE worst series of runs I have ever had. EVER. Worse than when I started running which was pretty much the day after I saw Purple Rain which was about 100 years ago. My agony started last Sunday.

Don’t let the smile fool you. I was happy to have made it to my driveway. Dumbest run ever. 10 miles. Hilliest route on earth. Dehydrated. Mildly hung over. And one bitchy hamstring did not make for an epic run. It made for a sufferfest. I decided on this route as a sort of litmus test. A Where Am I Starting?  The answer is right at the goddamn bottom. I couldn’t get out of my own way. I shuffled my pathetic ass up a series of 4 hills, one longer and more annoying than the next. When did this route get so hard? Am I this out of shape? I didn’t think I was. But now? Gah. I’m a hot mess.

So like any runner, I ran the next day. And the next. Both of which were no better than Sunday’s Suck Fest. The next I rode my bike. And had a big old talk with myself. It went like this:

Self,

GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER.

XOXO,
Colby

I wish I was paraphrasing. I need to clean up the edges. I need to get serious. I need to see where I’m really starting because I feel like a broken down Yugo. My InsideTracker profile needs a definite update. Hello, Retest! I need to focus on something other than my former job. Like my new one! That tired old stress needs to leave the building, specifically my legs so I can move them with purpose again. My former situation was crippling in more ways than one. Onward and upward! A bike ride always puts things into perspective for me. Sometimes in a way that running doesn’t. Besides, all Running told me was to stop. Who wants to hear that shit when you’re trying to chug a big old pint of Motivation?

So I ignored what Running was telling me. And continued on the rest of the week. After a few moderately better #runventures (and one ill advised mountain bike ride with My Other Half, Drunk Otis, a bloody Achilles and a goddamn massive contusion on my hip), I began to fall into a rhythm. There you are Running! My Old Familiar Rhythm. And here I thought I’d lost you. I decided Saturday night, after icing my hip and cleaning my wounds, that I would re-run The Dreaded 4 Hilled Route. I woke up like it was race day. Hydrated. Well rested. Nary a hang over in sight. And this time?

wonder woman running.gif

Me, Sunday.

Are we gonna let the elevator

Bring us down

Oh, no let’s go!

All I needed was an invisible jet and a goddamn lasso. 🙂

Have you ever seriously contemplated hanging up your running kicks? What’s the longest stretch of horrible runs you’ve ever had? What was the first R-rated movie you ever saw?

We could be heroes

David Bowie Helen Green

Credit: Helen Green

I heard the news of David Bowie’s death this morning. David Bowie was nothing if not an Original. A True Original. In today’s world of Imposters and Copy Cats, he was a Glam Unicorn. I’m not sure that we’ll ever see one quite like him again. I almost think that’s a good thing.  I am happy to have shared time on earth with him. To have existed in the same space. There was no one like David Bowie. He was an androgynous innovator. A figurehead in the pop cultural landscape for decades. It made me so sad this morning to read the news of his passing. I really liked him. And then I read he died of cancer. Not of AIDS. Not of an overdose. Of cancer. He died of cancer 2 days after his 69th birthday. Ziggy Stardust got cancer, just like many ordinary, everyday people do.

 

We could be heroes

Just for one day

-David Bowie

Several days ago, Tina and I registered for the Pan Mass Challenge. This will be Tina’s 4th, and my 12th PMC, a 2-day almost 200 mile cycling event clear across Massachusetts, benefitting cancer research at the Dana Farber Cancer Institute. Somehow hearing that David Bowie died of cancer this morning really got me thinking about why I have spent the past 12 years riding and raising money for cancer research. And it made me angry.

Cancer doesn’t discriminate. Cancer knows no bounds. Cancer is a thief. A vicious, ruthless thief. It steals our loved ones and people we quietly admire from afar. No one is immune to its reach. Not Steve Jobs. Not Gilda Radner. Not David Bowie. Neither the rich, nor famous are exempt. In that regard, David Bowie was like everybody else. That is so very upsetting to me. Not just because cancer claimed an Original, but because cancer steals so many extraordinary human beings. Every. Single. Day. Today was just another reminder. It’s maddening. And it’s unacceptable. Which is why for 2 days, we ride. For those we have loved and for those we have lost. We ride along with those who are survivors and with those who are fighting so hard to be.

I like to think for that one weekend, we are all heroes.  

Rest peacefully, Ziggy Stardust. You will be missed.

David Blaine Ain’t Got Nothing on the Magic of the PMC

Pan Mass Challenge. For Colby and me, it is The Best Weekend of the Year. And while I didn’t poll every person I met about where the weekend ranked for them, I definitely didn’t meet anyone who would choose to be anywhere else.

But when you write out what the PMC weekend entails, it’s pretty incredible that it is The Best Weekend of the Year for anyone. It involves little sleep, lots of exertion, soreness and discomfort. Sweat, dehydration, communal bathrooms and not much relief from the elements. And that’s where the PMC magic comes in. None of the discomforts can hold a candle to the greatness that is the PMC.

Here’s a glimpse of what The Best Weekend of the Year looks like:

Friday: Revisit 6th Grade math and solve the problem of how to get yourself and your bike (plus 3 friends and their bikes) to the starting line in Sturbridge, MA without leaving a car there. This is a pass/fail test and you have to pass. {Thankfully, Colby’s Other Half Saint Tim, drove us the 2+ hours from her house, dropped us off and turned around to get back to work. Thanks Tim!}

NOTE: If you are PMC Bestie Ivy, and live in NYC, this means you will get on a subway at 6 AM with your bike and weekend bag, take it to a jam-packed Grand Central Station, where you will navigate the crowds to get on a 7 AM commuter train (still with bike and bag) to my Connecticut town, where you will once again unload your bike and bag, load them again into my car, and take Leg 3 to Colby’s house, where you will once again unload your bike and bag and load them into another car, only to unload again in Sturbridge. Ivy, you are a champ. I’m exhausted just typing this out. It is probably a 7-hour trip just for Ms. Ivy to get to Sturbridge.

Once in Sturbridge, it is a breeze. You just hang out and soak up the good PMC juju. Rack your bikes, register, check into hotel, see PMC friends, cry a little, laugh a lot. They have opening ceremonies, plenty of food and a Harpoon tent. It’s all very upbeat and chill. Which is important, since the next day is Day 1 and you need to rest while you can.

Saturday: Depending on where you are staying (i.e., how close to the start line), you will get up somewhere between 3:15-4:15. We stayed across the street this year (Thank You Meghan, aka Miss PMC!) so got to sleep in until 4:15 AM. Since hotel rooms are at a premium, you will either have slept 2 to a bed or possibly on the floor. Maybe even in a tent outside. While getting ready, you will take a moment to appreciate using a semi-private bathroom and shower (only shared among 4 people!), because it will be the last time you do so until you get to your Cape Cod rental on Sunday. You floss carefully. You enjoy the mirror. You wash your hands twice with soap and dry them with a hand towel. ‘Cause you can.

4:45 AM: you drop your bag off at a massive truck with the PMC Angels who will drive it to the Mass Maritime Academy campus (finish line of Day 1 and your host for the evening – you will be sleeping in a 12-man cabin on the USS Kennedy). Find your bike and line it up for the start. Head inside for breakfast, coffee and entertainment provided by local cheerleaders. Fuel up and soak in the good vibes. Notice that everyone is acting like it is 10:45 AM, not 4:45 AM. Not a yawn or crabby morning face to be seen. It’s the magic of the PMC.

5:15 AM: Line up and prepare for the start. Take pics. Talk to the people around you and get their stories. It’s one of my favorite parts – everyone you meet on the ride has a story of why they are there. Some people wear their stories on their backs, like us. Others on their helmets or their bikes. Others just share verbally. But every last person has a story of why they are there. And I never tire of hearing them.

Not everyone wears their stories on their backs, like us. But everyone has them.

Not everyone wears their stories on their backs, like us. But everyone has them.

5:30: And we’re off. Only 110 somewhat-hilly miles to Bourne. Along the way, we will get hot, we will get tired, we will get sore, and we probably will suffer at least one bike malfunction (this time Colby snapped a spoke. Last year, I got a flat tire and lost a brake cable). But we also will meet countless people – fellow riders, volunteers, spectators – who will affect us in ways we never thought a stranger could. We will see the best- the absolute best – that humanity has to offer. And we will feel very, very hopeful. Not just about finding a cure for cancer, but also for the future of humanity as a whole.

Late Afternoon: You made it to Bourne. You’ve showered on the ship. Maybe “rinsed off” is a better description, but whatever. You no longer smell. You get to enjoy a party with 5000+ of your best PMC friends. Food, drink, bands and a grassy quad on the shore of Buzzards Bay. You enjoy every second – even the teary ones. You’ve earned it. This is also when the PMC takes its annual “Living proof” picture of survivor volunteers and riders. The reason we ride.

The Reason(s) We Ride.

The Reason(s) We Ride.

Sunday: After sleeping on a ship in a triple bunk (I’ll let everyone decide for themselves whether top, middle or bottom is best: Discuss.) in a 12-person cabin with one bathroom for very-few restless hours, you’re up. Somewhere between 3:30-4:30, but you know the later it is, the less likely you are to get one of the kick-ass egg sandwiches at breakfast, so it’s up and at ‘em as soon as your eyes open. You navigate a teeny space with 11 other people while you kit up, brush your teeth and pack up your bag, which seems much heavier than it did on Friday. And yet, everyone is smiling and happy. ‘Cause it’s the PMC.

Breakfast, Porta Potty and as soon as it is light enough (5:30?), you’re off. The sooner you make it over the Bourne Bridge, the better. It is one of the most nerve-wracking parts of the PMC – up a bridge, single file, slooooowly, with plenty of traffic to your left. Yes, even at 5:30 AM. You have to manage going slowly and occasionally stopping, without tipping over and taking the whole peleton with you. And thanks to the PMC magic, you make it over the bridge without incident.

You’re inevitably sore when you hop on your bike. Your butt hurts so much that you can’t imagine that you will be able to ride 82 more miles. But you will. ‘Cause it’s the PMC.

Somewhere in the last 10 miles of the ride, a car comes up slowly on your left. You turn and see a woman with a bald head leaning out the passenger window as her driver drives slowly enough for her to thank each rider as she passes. And for the 1000th time this weekend, you burst into tears. Tears for the challenges that this woman faces, tears for the fact that she and so many others are still fighting, tears for those who are gone and tears of gratitude for your health and your ability to participate in this ride.

82 miles and 3 water stops after the start of Day 2, you arrive at the finish. Provincetown Inn and the Atlantic Ocean are there to greet you at the end of the line, along with other happy riders and so many amazing volunteers. And as you do every year, you burst into tears. For so many reasons. You’re tired, hot, depleted, sore and oh, so very grateful that you can do this. You hop off. Take a few pictures, rack your bike and start counting the days until PMC 2016.

It’s Magic.

Running, Resting and Pan Mass Challenging

freakout

In the interest of being open and honest, this post is hideously LATE. Why? Because I’m just back from a fantastic, booze soaked week in Cape Cod following the Pan Mass Challenge. And it was glorious.  What a week! Did I run? Yes. Did I follow Hansons Marathon Method to a “T”?  Ummmm. Not quite. More on last week’s shenanigans on Monday. We’ve got lots of lost goddamn miles to cover. Here’s what happened in the week leading up to PMC number 11 for me!!! For those keeping track (Hi, Ma!), I’m talking about Week 7 of Hansons Training, the week of July 27th. Ready? GO! 

Monday: 6 miles. Easy. Thank god it was “Easy.” Monday kicked off PMC Week, otherwise known as My Favorite Week of The Year. I was in a panic. All this running and riding juggle fest had me tuckered. Do I stick to the plan? Or do I save my legs for the 192 mile ride from Sturbridge to Provincetown, MA? I was in a PMC Pickle.

Tuesday:  Intervals. Ugly, ugly intervals. 400-800-1200-1600-1200-800-400, with 400 recovery.  With warm up and cool down: over 7 miles total. They were supposed to be at Ass O’Clock in the morning but alas, I overslept. Instead, I did them after work.  Joy. The (second) original plan was to do them at the track. But then this happened. 

Hot-cha-cha

 And it wasn’t happening on the surface of the sun track. Off to the gym I went. And ran those damn things LIKE A BOSS. A sweaty, crabby boss. But a boss no less.

Wednesday: Rest Day. I needed it. I debated flip flopping easy runs and tempo runs and bike rides and then I just said: NO. And Rest Day it was.

enough

Thursday:  Here’s where things turn into a flip floppy mess. Do I do a Tempo Run or the Long Run I will be missing on Sunday? And if I do my long run, I need to do it before a long day at work. I won’t even elaborate on work, other than to say I stood in one goddamn place at my lab bench for HOURS. Oh. And I need to get my shit together and pack for my epic bike ride & week in the Cape. And make my ribbons to wear honoring those whom I am riding for. Holy Frazzled. My decision: 

BOOM. Long run. 14 miles. Nailed the pace. I’m proud of that one. 

Friday: Very quick spin on My Whip then off to the PMC!!! 0 miles 

Bikes at the ready!

 Saturday:  PMC Day 1. 110 miles on the bike. I have no words. The PMC is an experience like no other. If you want to be a part of something wonderful, please, ride. For one weekend a year, I am a part of something truly great. I am surrounded by kind, selfless, passionate individuals, united by a shared goal. It is never lost on me. The PMC still moves me. I am as moved as I was during my first ride, 11 years ago. It is something. It’s something and everything all at once. I’ll post a real recap in a bit. Sit tight, Poodles.   
Sunday: PMC Day 2. 82 miles on the bike. Riding through the dunes in Provincetown after 192 miles with your 2 best girls, cheering, laughing and welling up while kicking cancer’s ASS is the best way to end a week. The. Best. To all those who have lost their battle with cancer, and to all those who continue to live strong- This was for you!  

The Finish!

 
Total miles run: 27 miles. Sorry, Hansons. That’s all I had. 

Total miles on the bike: 192 miles. For that? I am so not sorry. 

Total number of bottles of Prosecco consumed during PMC Weekend:  1 bottle.  *hiccup*  

Prosecco down!

  How do you deal with changes to you training schedule: Rock in the corner or simply shrug it off?  What’s your favorite week/day of the year?

Running, Sweating and A Whole Lot of Sunflowers. 

Hey, Sunny!

 Before I launch in to Colby’s Week in Running, Riding and All Things Drunk Otis, I want to give a super huge THANK YOU SHOUT OUT to three of the baddest ass bloggers on WordPress.
 

Thank you, Awesome Bloggers for donating to My Ride. Your support means the world to me- just as much as the Pan Mass Challenge itself. And I am quite certain that if when  we meet up, our friendship will transcend Bloggerville and head straight to Real Life. I’m also quite certain that we would TEAR SHIT UP in person. Or minimally laugh our faces off. Grazie Mille, Ladies! Muuuuahhhh! 

Wait. Where were we? Oh yeah. Wrapping up Week 6 of Hanson Marathon Method. You know what that means, Poodles?!?! I AM A THIRD OF THE WAY DONE! snow white SNL
 Monday: 6 miles. Easy run. And we know how “easy” Easy Runs are. Yeah. They’re bullshit. They’re hard when your legs are tired. And you legs are always  tired. 

Tuesday: 7 miles. Intervals. 4 x 1200, 400 recovery with a 3 mile warm up/cool down. I’m digging the Sufferfest. They’re tough. Especially when you actually run them at your prescribed pace. YES! And before work. YESYES! 

Wednesday: And on what seemed like the 743rd day of running, SHE RESTED. And went on a date with her Other Half. Happiness. Thank you, Sweet Little Baby Jesus. Thank you. Dinner, drinks, delicious grub and thousands of sunflowers. So fantastic. Only I may have had one too many cocktails on Tempo Run Eve. 

  

   

    

Happy lil’ guy , isnt he?

    

Date Night Selfie

   

Thursday: Tempo Run. 9 miles total with warm up/cool down. It was supposed to be at Ass O’Clock in the morning, but instead it was after a very long day at work. Damn you, Cocktails. Damn you. After riding the struggle bus for half of it, I hopped off and finished strong. A for effort. D- for overindulging. 

Friday: 6 miles. Easy run. This was the toughest run of the week. Why? Because many aspects of my Real Life week sucked. Stress City. I wanted to lay on the couch and take a nap. Instead I ran. I totally surprised myself.  

Hey, Lady. Is it Happy Hour yet?

 Saturday: I was supposed to run 10 miles.  Didn’t happen. Instead? 50 miles. Bike. Last major PMC training ride which kicks off The Most Wonderful Week of the Year:  PMC WEEK!!!! Next weeks recap will be blogged in Wellfleet. Paws up. On the beach. I will be exhausted and quite possibly, tipsy. The post will be wrought with typos and strings of profanities. IT WILL BE EPIC!!! 

Sunday: 7 miles. Easy run. It was hot. And I was tired. After my run, I took a quick spin on my whip. You know, because that’s what you do when you’re exhausted. I needed to make sure a last minute dérailleur adjustment was all good. The verdict: My ride shifts like buttah. PMC, HERE I COME! 10 miles on the bike.  

Drunk Otis fetched the NYTimes. #dropit

 Miles Run: 35.

Miles Ridden: 60.

Number of photos taken of sunflowers: 103. 

Number of flip-flops eaten by Drunk Otis: 2. 

What is the one thing you look most forward to each year? If given the choice to RUN everywhere or RIDE everywhere, what would you choose? What’s your favorite flower? 

Running, Riding and Just Plain Tuckered. 

Another week of torture Hansons Marathon Method in the books. Which is another week of training I have survived. Yippee! THANK YOU, SWEET BABY JESUS! twerkkidWhy so dramatic? Because the Pan-Massachusetts Challenge is a mere 11 days away and my fundraising has hit an unfortunate lull. Which stresses me out. I’m also juggling marathon training with riding and am slightly frazzled. This PMC, a ~200 mile, two-day cycling extravaganza geared towards raising money for cancer research, will be my 11th consecutive one. And one I haven’t trained nearly enough for. Come on legs! It’s all good though. Riding 200 miles is nothing compared to what a cancer patient endures. And honestly? I dodged a very real cancer scare this year. I have my health, while many do not. This year I am riding for Hope. For Beyond Cancer. I’m officially excited. 🙂 

 Shifting gears (See what I just did right there?), here’s how Colby’s Week in Marathon Training went. 5 weeks of Official Training down! I may have just put down my iPad and did the running man with Drunk Otis in my living room, whist Phil Liggett yelled about a descent during Stage 16 of the Tour de France in the background.  I will say Evil Beagle was not impressed. Here’s what went down!

Monday: 6 miles. Easy. Ok. So I finally am getting it. Hansons Method is geared towards training you for the second half of the marathon. You know, where the magic happens. Or, where the wheels fly off of you goddamn bus.  The Method to the Hansons Marathon training madness has a lot to do with these “Easy” runs. You are fatigued. Chronically.  These runs, which seemed easy at first, are not. They’re run slower than your marathon pace and take a decent amount of time. At least for me. These runs make you stronger. They’re not “junk” miles at all. They’re important in developing slow-twich muscle fibers, which to a marathoner are incredibly important. The more you use them, the more they develop. I hate these runs. But I need them.

Tuesday: Intervals. 5 x 1000, 400 recovery. 7.5 miles with warm up and cool down. I’m starting to dig these damn intervals. See text below. 

  

Wednesday: Thou shalt keep the Rest Day holy. I did a big fat NOTHING. Drunk Otis and the crew were THRILLED

Drunk Otis, Evil Beagle & Leon James

 Thursday: Tempo run. 8.5 miles total. Before work on a new route and I NAILED IT. I really think it was because of my new Janji Kenya shorts. Seriously. How awesome are these? They’re cute, don’t ride up AND provide a Kenyan with a year of water. Saving the world, looking cute while nailing my pace all before 7:30am? PRICELESS. 

#runforanother

 Friday: Here’s where I pulled the old, “Bend and Ride.” I was supposed to run an easy 7 miles. Instead, I rode 30 miles. Because Pan Mass Challenge. 

One of the many reasons for riding.

 Saturday: I was supposed to run an easy 6, instead I ran an easy 7 miles. Definitely not easy. Quads may have quietly wept. I had every intention of running outside, but the moment I closed the door behind me the heaven’s opened up and a lightning bolt cracked across the sky. Shook fist skyward. Grabbed keys. Ran 7 miserable miles on the Dreadmill. Yuck.

Sunday: Long run. 12 miles. It is here, Poodles, that I was reminded how bad running in the high 90s with oppressive humidity is. Even though I had Endurolytes and drank enough Skratch Labs to choke a pig, I still refilled my bottle THREE TIMES and still completely came UNDONE. Awful. Just awful. I followed it up with an ice cold shower, an insane amount of liquids and a nap. I am not made for running in that shit. Camel, I am not.

Total number of miles run: 41.

Total number of miles ridden: 30.

Total number of dollars I need to raise in 11 days:  $1,930. (!!!)

Help a Cancer-Fighting-Blogger-Friend out! To donate to my ride, click HERE! I will give you a big ass shout out and a big old virtual hug! 🙂