I am on this Chris Carmichael training program, "The Time-Crunched Cyclist." It's all based on interval training--seems like good stuff. But to really do the intervals properly, you need to calculate your average heart rate during two 8 minute, all-out efforts (as all-out as can be sustained over an 8 minute stretch with a 10 minute break between).
So I had to do this.
Today was the day.
What's that old adage about pacing yourself, "the-tortise-and-the-hare," the race does not always go to the swift, etc.? I completely flamed. Blew up before minute four on my first run. Blew up so bad I couldn't get it back together for a reasonable second run. Didn't help that last night Blair and I had enjoyed the richest meal either of us had eaten since we'd returned from France. Not as good second time around.
Today: just bad.
To lift my spirit, here is a favorite drawing of mine from way-back. For our dear Tara's birthday. At least I'm thinner now!
p.s. the heart rate I'm going to go with is 170. Such a let down!
Returning to the Horror Flash Fiction Book.
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Going to try and do one a day in this style until all the drawings are done.
The Last Pimple
Story here.
Moonlight Hitcher
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