I had a pretty good week of training for the end of May and the first week of June. Monday I ran 7.31 miles, swam 4,400 yards, and lifted weights. That's real training right there; I don't care who you are. Tuesday I did not swim. I went to the pool only to find a note on the door that said: No Swimming. Chemicals. The universe will not allow me to swim too many meters per week.
It. can. not. happen.
I ran some (3.18), and lifted. And pouted. I always pout when I miss a swim.
Wednesday I tried to make up for it all. It was June 2, my birthday, and I decided to take an easier challenge this year, one that would maybe move me towards a performance at nationals. I swam 6,500 meters, 100 for each year. Yeah, I turned the big 65. Yes, I went to the gym and did legs. I also ran 6.81 miles. So I did the big three for big numbers on my birthday. I am unbalanced like that.
Thursday I did not run. I don't remember why, but I did swim 4,500 yards and lift weights. Friday, I shuffled a mere 3.21 miles and swam a short 2,350 yards. Yes, I was getting tired. Saturday, my malaise continued. I slept in, studied some, and went to the gym for some gentle lifting. I did pull and legs. Legs a little. Better than a poke in the eye, I think.
For the week, I
swam 16,781 meters,
ran 20.62 miles, and
lifted weights five times.
That is pretty solid, but I was wanting 20,000 in the water. Maybe this week. Thank you, Jesus, for good training and for a good visit from my brother.
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