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Triathlon Chronicles: Super Tuesday

Run 1.5 miles in my shoes!

To celebrate Super Tuesday, I decided to do a Super Workout with all three triathlon elements. One agonizing discipline for each of the three top Republican candidates, in a way. There’s a parallel there somewhere.

I started with 20 minutes of  a modified interval spin (biking) – alternating 2 minutes of high cadence, low resistance spinning with 2 minutes of a slower, higher resistance period. Twenty minutes later, I staggered off the bike and did some stretches because I have been getting calf cramps on the treadmill after I bike – which makes no sense. You would think calves have little involvement in biking, so I don’t know what the heck their problem is.

Then I silently screamed during the first 2 minutes on the treadmill – because I could suddenly feel every single tendon and muscle in my knees and they were all saying…well, I can’t say what they were saying, it’s completely inappropriate for a family-oriented, uh, community blog. Bad words were what they are saying.

And as usual, after the first 5 minutes I was ready to be done. I hate this part with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns. I think about how I am too old to need the character-building that comes with doing something you detest for 20 minutes. I distract myself by thinking about “worse things” – childbirth is always pretty high on the list. Mammograms, although those tend to be mercifully brief. Cleaning bathrooms used primarily by the male of the species. Cat puke. Newt Gingrich. I pondered why Google Calendar can’t send reminders to a Google Group. I wondered if the reason Viagra can be covered by health insurance, but birth-control isn’t, is because Viagra is not male birth control. I tried to figure out why Mitt Romney’s voice and speaking style creeps me out to the point that I can’t listen to what the man is saying. Hey, it was Super Tuesday, after all.

None of it helped. I watched the minutes tick away while Bono told me he would follow, Pink raised her glass, and Eminem told me that I own it and I better never let it go, and I heaved a sigh of sweaty relief after 20 minutes and 1.45 miles. I complained to Darth how much I hate running (an important part of the training, right?) and went through the rest of the program of stretches, cable pulls, body bar, abs and my favorite part – laying flat on my back on the mat, not moving, contemplating the ceiling.

Partner in Crime picked me up at 7:30 that night for lap swim. I tried the aquatic version of intervals – alternating 2 laps breast-stroke and 2 laps freestyle (my own quirky version, freestyle arms with breast-stroke kick) for 30 laps in the deep end (1/4 mile). My time was under 15 minutes – no improvement there – but I managed more freestyle laps than ever, so that was good. Really good, actually. Maybe it was Super Tuesday after all.

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Rebecca Foster writes about food, politics, books and whatever has irritated her on any particular day, on her website Usual and Ordinary (www.usualandordinary.com). She is an occasional contributor to The Livingston Post and has remained active in local politics and the community after serving as Pinckney Village President from 2004-2012, and as a trustee currently. She is enjoying empty-nesting in Pinckney with her husband, three cats and a few chickens.

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