trying to train

The thing about totally changing your life: It makes training for a half-Ironman really, really difficult. Riding a bike by yourself in a completely new city that has multiple streets with the same name, scary-steep hills and asphalt that is almost always wet is downright intimidating.

Thank god for visiting friends! Safety in numbers! Kimra was in town for Memorial Day Weekend, and (after delaying the ride several hours to wait for the downpour to stop) we logged a 50-miler that included the Mercer Island loop (gorgeous), a tour of Bellevue (and its many stoplights -- ick), the Sammamish River Trail (if I ever learn how to spell "Sammamish" without looking it up, it will be a great accomplishment) and the Burke-Gilman Trail.

The ride also may or may not have included a stop at 7-Eleven for slurpees and some kind of rolled-up fake taquito thing slathered in pump-it-yourself nacho cheese. (God, who would eat that, right? Um ... )

Random thoughts about cycling in the Pacific Northwest: Someone deserves a hug for creating so many beautiful trails. It's not unusual to share said trails with roller-bladers; apparently, roller-blading is making a comeback. People in cars are much more bike-friendly here. There are fewer potholes than in Sonoma County. Since it's so overcast so often, cyclists wear clear glasses instead of tinted sunglasses. Riding in light drizzle really isn't bad -- in fact, it's kind of refreshing.

And speaking of training, I'm currently testing out gyms and trying to find a pool with a good aquatics program. Yesterday I went swimming for the first time in more than two weeks -- completed a 2,000-yard workout in about 50 minutes, which was exciting. The pool was great -- not crowded, with easy access to all kinds of fun workout toys (even Zoomers, which was awesome). I felt pretty good.

Until I went back to the locker room and discovered the spa was a "naked spa." And I was the lone awkwardly self-conscious person sitting there in a swimsuit. Fail.