Training Log Archive: TravIn the 7 days ending Sep 23, 2012:
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Sunday Sep 23, 2012 #
Cycle intervals 40:00 [5]
indoor spin. 12 x 30 seconds with a minute in between. Some jumps.
8 AM
run 50:00 [3]
Every now and then you start a morning anticipating the same as most any morning. A pretty run in the valley. Clear cool weather. Wonderful, in its own way, but part of the routine. Such was the case today with Balogna and Trix. Everything nice and normal. As we made our way along the Bruce and around the Main Loop we see the usual good folk, running and walking and cycling pleasantly along.
And then on a whim (this is the way many amazing things happen) we decide to go back along Ground Hog High to Artaban and take the trail we tried for the first time during Friday Night Lights. It goes from the top of Artaban in a big loop to the parking lot half way up.
We were just remarking on how different things look during the day when you can actually see them (which, pre-coffee, was about as insightful as I could be at that point) when we surprised a deer maybe 10 feet ahead. At this point time slowed down.
Trix was off like a bullet. The deer broke hard right. Then another deer. Then a third. It's like they were appearing out of the air. Trix went bonkers. All four of them started bashing for the steep drop off ahead, Trix closer than she's ever been to these things. Two deer boing down the hill with astounding grace.
But the third deer. The one Trix was closest to. That one chose the steepest line, a line that could be defined, arguably, as going over a cliff. The deer noticed the danger too late, tried to put on the brakes, lost its footing and was launched. Airborne. Full cartwheels. Once. Twice. Three times. Legs in all directions. Bam, crash, bam right down to the stream.
We stared in horror and I lost track of Trix in the mayhem, compelled to watch the deer tumbling train wreck unfold. There was a loud grunt at the end of it all and then silence. I ran to the edge. Nothing. No deer, no dog.
Just another tranquil cool clear morning.
And then there she was. Trix, running insanely along the river way down there. Balogna had seen her stop at the cliff's edge and then go over in a controlled frenzy, but I hadn't. One moment she was here; the next she was implausibly down there in some crazy space warp trick like she does sometimes.
Balogna and I stood there, eyes wide, for a full minute, her hands on her head, my hands over my mouth. Dumbstruck. I don't remember actually being dumbstruck before. But there was no doubting this. I was struck dumb.
The deer had survived. This we knew because, well, because she was gone and not a crumpled maimed heap at the bottom. Trix had survived because, well, here she was. And we had witnessed something we won't soon forget.
And then on a whim (this is the way many amazing things happen) we decide to go back along Ground Hog High to Artaban and take the trail we tried for the first time during Friday Night Lights. It goes from the top of Artaban in a big loop to the parking lot half way up.
We were just remarking on how different things look during the day when you can actually see them (which, pre-coffee, was about as insightful as I could be at that point) when we surprised a deer maybe 10 feet ahead. At this point time slowed down.
Trix was off like a bullet. The deer broke hard right. Then another deer. Then a third. It's like they were appearing out of the air. Trix went bonkers. All four of them started bashing for the steep drop off ahead, Trix closer than she's ever been to these things. Two deer boing down the hill with astounding grace.
But the third deer. The one Trix was closest to. That one chose the steepest line, a line that could be defined, arguably, as going over a cliff. The deer noticed the danger too late, tried to put on the brakes, lost its footing and was launched. Airborne. Full cartwheels. Once. Twice. Three times. Legs in all directions. Bam, crash, bam right down to the stream.
We stared in horror and I lost track of Trix in the mayhem, compelled to watch the deer tumbling train wreck unfold. There was a loud grunt at the end of it all and then silence. I ran to the edge. Nothing. No deer, no dog.
Just another tranquil cool clear morning.
And then there she was. Trix, running insanely along the river way down there. Balogna had seen her stop at the cliff's edge and then go over in a controlled frenzy, but I hadn't. One moment she was here; the next she was implausibly down there in some crazy space warp trick like she does sometimes.
Balogna and I stood there, eyes wide, for a full minute, her hands on her head, my hands over my mouth. Dumbstruck. I don't remember actually being dumbstruck before. But there was no doubting this. I was struck dumb.
The deer had survived. This we knew because, well, because she was gone and not a crumpled maimed heap at the bottom. Trix had survived because, well, here she was. And we had witnessed something we won't soon forget.
Saturday Sep 22, 2012 #
run 1:50:00 [3]
SMT with Katey Mac. A bit of a faster run than I planned on. Kate, I think, was trying to prove a point or she's just casually that strong or I'm just slow. In any event, she's back and she's fast as ever.
Friday Sep 21, 2012 #
Note
If the weather holds, we could to a Friday Night Lights ride this eve.
Note
Doesn't seem like we have any takers. And I'm tired. So FNL will pick up again in later October after we come back from ZA--PH is welcome to host them while we're gone if he's so inclined.
run 1:22:00 [3]
Prodded out of our, well my, lassitude, by PH we explored yet more outstandinging single track suggested by Balogna, who has an uncanny sense off these things. Beautiful ride.
Thursday Sep 20, 2012 #
run 45:00 [5]
Hotel hills. 6 x3 minutes atarting at 6mph accelerating .1 each set. 10% except for the last two where I added .5 % each time.
Tuesday Sep 18, 2012 #
Cycle 25:00 [5]
10 x 30 spin. Not enough time to go for a run before I...before I...golf.
C • golf 1