It's the last weekend before the big race. Derek, not surprisingly, has gone radio silent. Is he pushing two-a-day's, riding and swimming, or biking and running, or swimming and running, I don't know. Perhaps he has begun to taper and is out drinking martini's - or, his second favorite drink, a cosmo - with Darcy. Either way, his isn't doing this:
24.8 miles, 1:55. Personal best on Old LaHonda, climbing the 3.0 miles and 1350 ft in 31:45. First attempt was 35:00, second was 32:45, and now one week later I've beaten that by a minute. My strength and endurance on the bike have steadily improved; it's nice to see the time reflect the work thats gone into these improvements.
The last time Derek was off-grid for this duration was when he and Britt semester'd in Montana the first 6 months of their senior year. I was a junior, living in Apt 1105, with Dave Austen, Griff, and Joe Basile. Phish made its introduction, I was generating positive cash from at AMF, and college wasn't so bad. But Britt and Derek were in a far off place, doing cool, wild-west-like things with new people in new lands. It was good for them, as Britt came back knowing his purpose was to get a dog, and Derek returned with a stronger sense of self. Growth, change, and evolution are rarely a bad thing - you'd have to ask them but I think they'd both agree it was time well spent in Montana.
So today I picked up tri-suits for both Derek and I. They're basically bike shorts with a little less padding, sporting pockets in the back for energy bars, etc. I tried on a medium, fit perfectly, so I picked up a large for Derek. It'd be nice to keep the playing field relatively level - meaning: same bikes, and attire - so that no one feels things were uneven. Because on Sunday, it should come down to two things: what you've done to prepare for this event, and the degree to which you're willing to lay in on the line.
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