#how come I broke my back riding an indoor bicycle I have a question

[29625]

Mav is a kind of guy that gets so drunk he dances to Uptown Funk like a car dealership inflatable thing and breaks his back

And Slider is a kind of husband who never stops teasing him about it but stays close to his idiot best partner, sitting on the floor and watching Kitchen Nightmares together while Maverick is sprawling on the couch and sleepy on the painkiller

(He eventually drags Slider in his arms to take a cozy nap together, but that’s another story.)

[fatathlon]

IRONMAN 70.3 Indian Wells – La Quinta – Race Recap

* A video version of this race recap can be found on my YouTube channel here.

A triathlon is a game of contradiction.

You spend hours, weeks, months training for something that lasts moments of your life. Improve at one sport by mastering three. Train slower to race faster. Race slower to race faster. Do it alone, surrounded by people. Never see a finish line as the end.

One of the most challenging contradictions is the trap of identity. To do well, you have to immerse yourself in training for long periods of time. It can become you; consume you. And then what is objectively a meaningless act of physical exertion assumes a station in your life that it never deserved. And you are left with nothing but finish times and medals, to gather dust because nobody cares.

I thought about these contradictions a lot during my training for my first Ironman 70.3 race in Indian Wells – La Quinta California. It seemed fitting in this vein of contradiction that I would train in the cold and snow in order to race in the warm desert. I hoped that by recognizing the contradictions inherent in what I was doing, I could avoid that most challenging trap, and come away with an experience, rather than just another race.

After Musselman in July, I took a break for a few weeks, and then started training again. I had a few minor injuries, which were challenging, but for the most part my training was consistent. I did some bike fitting and got a set of aerobars on my bike. Winter arrived early in Vermont; we had snow on the ground before Thanksgiving. So most of my riding was indoors. I ran outside as much as I could. And weather doesn’t matter in the pool, of course.

Swimming was a major area of focus for me this fall. I got a second swim analysis and really worked on my technique. I was able to take another ten seconds off my 100-yard time, and by December I was swimming faster on average than I ever had.

I had also been trying to eat smarter, both to be healthier and to drop extra weight. With the help of a friend, I definitely had some success here, though it added some stress to our family routine. Kids like what they like.

I was a little concerned about flying my bike to California, because I had only done it once before and I didn’t have to assemble it myself when I arrived that time. So I broke it down and packed it up at the bike shop so I could get guidance with questions that I had and hands-on help from Darren, my friend who owns Vermont Bicycle Shop. I felt a lot more confident once it was all ready to go.

The flights were pretty uneventful, and we made it to San Diego in one piece — including my bike. One of the first things I did was put it back together; I wanted to make sure I would have enough time to solve any problems that came up. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be any and the assembly went pretty smoothly.

The Catamount, my custom Orbea Terra, ready to ride

We spent a few days with my brother’s family in San Diego, hiking at Torrey Pines and playing on the beach. It was a nice way to get acclimated to the environment. It wasn’t as warm as I thought it would be, but it definitely was a lot warmer than Vermont. Locals on the beach were dressed in winter coats and hats, but our girls thought it was the perfect weather for swimming in the Pacific.

Before long it was time to drive to Indian Wells. The amazing scenery on that drive took us all by surprise. We stopped for a moment but the day before the race was very busy so there wasn’t a lot of time for sight-seeing.

After getting the family settled at the hotel, I had my first Ironman athlete check-in experience and got to see the pro panel, which included the eventual race winners Lionel Sanders and Paula Findlay. I checked my run gear in to T2, a little overwhelmed by the enormity of the transition area. Then it was time for a half-hour drive to the swim start and T1, to see the swim course, check in my bike and decontaminate my wetsuit before hanging it on the racks where it would stay until race morning. I made sure to mark it well so I wouldn’t have any trouble finding it.

My day would have gone quite differently if it hadn’t been for my teammate Lacy. She and her husband gave me a lift to the shuttle buses, which was already a great help by itself, but when she mentioned her water bottles I realized I had forgotten something at the hotel. Specifically, all of my hydration. It was still sitting in my refrigerator. They drove me back so I could retrieve them and I was so grateful. Luckily we were up early enough that it didn’t affect our day — we got on a bus with no waiting and were off to the start area.

I knew the water would be cold. The reported temperature that morning was just under 59 degrees. There was no warm-up swim. We stood in line at the rolling start for a long time before finally getting into the water. And then, finally, after everything, I was racing.

The first one or two hundred meters were tough. I was hyperventilating from the shock of the water temperature and struggling to relax and find my rhythm. I expected that, but it didn’t make it any easier. Finally I settled in, though, and found my zone. It was clear pretty quickly that I should have seeded myself further forward; nobody around me was actually swimming at the pace they lined up for. I was crawling over people all the way. My goggles half-filled with water but I ignored it since I could still see. When I finally crawled out of the lake, I had a personal best time of 34 minutes. By my watch, I had swum ten seconds per 100 yards faster than my first 70.3 in July.

As I mounted my bike, I readied myself mentally to face the biggest contradiction of the day. I had programmed the wattage target my coach and I agreed on into my bike computer, and I was going to stick to that number like superglue. The paradox of my plan was that the number was low. It was lower than I had expected. It was lower than it was at my first 70.3, and it was low relative to my power profile. It was so low that it meant I’d be doing what amounted to a zone 2 ride for the entirety of the bike leg.

The plan was predicated on the knowledge that the course was pancake flat, and that triathlons succeed or fail on the run. We would conserve energy on the bike, allowing my inertia to do most of the work, and hopefully get off the bike with enough in the tank to really drop the hammer.

So what the bike ended up being was a test of patience, rather than fitness. My heart rate stayed low, peaking only at the very start during the excitement of transition and climbing a tiny hill out of transition. I spent a lot of the time focused on avoiding drafting as much as I could, but it was pretty difficult considering that the roads were absolutely packed with riders. That forced me to surge occasionally, but it was okay because the course was so flat.

The first 20 miles flew by so fast that I was actually surprised when I saw the mile marker sign. At 30 miles I felt no worse; very comfortable and just cruising along. It was a strong contrast to my last race, where the 30 mile marker saw me doing pretty solid work. I began to get excited about the paradoxical plan as evidence in its favor continued to build. That naturally inclined me to want to push harder, but I redoubled my efforts to stay focused and in my target zone.

The highlight of the bike course by far was the Thermal Raceway, which is a private racetrack for cars that we got to ride around on. My watts went up on that section for sure, but it was a match that was worth burning. It’s a unique experience to ride your bike around a banked track with perfect pavement, designed for million dollar super cars. I had a lot of fun there.

The rest of the course was technically uphill but the gradient was so gradual, I barely noticed. I rode into T2 just 2 watts over my target. My family was cheering at the dismount line, which was a nice boost going into the start of my run.

After racking my bike and strapping on my running shoes, I started out on the final leg, to see if the contradictions would be resolved. Here I was, running in the heat and sun after training for months in the cold and snow. Here I was, having biked slowly on purpose to see if I could do a faster race. And here I was, after weeks of training at a jog, pushing my legs to go fast, and stay fast.

I have always run fast out of transition, because it takes a mile or two before my legs really feel normal and I can tell how my body is actually doing. At my first 70.3, I slowed that pace after the first aid station, feeling that I would have to conserve energy to make it through the run without shutting down. This day, though, I felt strong. I felt no such impending decline. I felt like I could hold the pace. So I didn’t slow down.

The run followed asphalt roads for a couple of miles before turning off onto a golf course, where it tracked around the greens on a winding, undulating path that was a mix of concrete, dirt and grass. There were no long straightaways, no places to hide from the course. It was highly dynamic and constantly changing.

A conclusion I had drawn from my first 70.3 was that I had been underfueled. This time, I ate and drank everything I could get my hands on during the run. I think I probably ate two or three whole bananas, a half at a time, plus several gels and all the coke, gatorade and red bull I could grab. I didn’t slow down during the aid stations; I didn’t want to lose my inertia. At one point I took a cup of ice, dumped it in my hat and packed it onto my head. The contrasts had never been more stark — at home I had been wearing winter hats to keep the snow off my head; today, I was deliberately packing ice onto my scalp.

It was a two-lap course which meant that I had to run agonizingly close to the finish line at around mile seven, only to have to turn around and do the entire thing one more time. Now I knew what to expect, though, and I knew where to push and where I could relax. Now all I had to do was hold my pace.

When the second lap of the course started to beat me, I focused on my family, waiting for me at the finish, and steeled myself in the resolve to make this all worth it. What was the point of asking so much of them, to support my training, to spend an entire day of our vacation standing around, if I didn’t make it worth it? I wasn’t going to slow down for anything.

The last couple of miles were hard and my pace started to slip a little bit, but I was still moving faster than I had ever really expected. I found my family just before the finish line, gave everybody high-fives, and then took it over the line. It was a personal best by a long margin, with personal records in every part of the race. I almost couldn’t believe it, but there it was.

If there’s one thing I learned from this race experience, it’s that you can’t always see contradictions as obstacles. Sometimes, they are puzzle pieces in a larger pattern that you can’t fully recognize until you’ve put it all together. You can’t always resist the things that don’t make sense; sometimes, you have to lean into them, make them part of your plan and see them through to the end. And that’s when you can find clarity.

We closed out our trip with a drive through Joshua Tree National Park, marveling at the natural beauty of the desert before boarding our plane to fly back into winter. With California behind us, it was time to look forward to a new year, and new contradictions.

Watch the video version of this race recap:

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[b-rainlet]

Hmmm can I have lunya otp questions

This took very long because I lost it halfway through so I hope you love my Answers anyway (took my like, two hours).

Fun Fact: This is actually 2k.

Which one sexts like a straight white boy?

Not to be repetitive, but….look at Luther…...look at Vanya…...and now tell me who is more likely to channel their inner fuckboy. 

Vanya rarely does it though, because what good would come of texting like that? Luther has no idea how to respond in most cases. 

Vanya: ‘what would u do if i was there with u rn ;)’

Luther: ‘Probably cuddle with you? I miss you.’

Vanya, already on her way to the mansion, sending a dozen heart emojis: ‘Damnit, Luther.’

(Have I mentioned? Luther is fucking clingy. He’s the kind of guy to be in the middle of a conversation with someone and just randomly go ‘I miss my wife’ before he just. Gets up and leaves). 

Sometimes though, Vanya plays around with the fuckboy aesthetic and Luther is into that. 

Vanya, in a snapback and a button up, pants hanging low: ‘Hey Babe ;)’

Luther, hands twisted together: ‘Don’t get a boner, don’t get a boner, don’t get a-’

(Vanya notices anyway. Vanya is also kind enough to indulge him, fucking him still completely dressed, pants falling open around her hips and boxer shorts pushed down, murmuring into Luther’s  ear how cute he looks split open on her cock like that. 

Luther has never come harder in his life).

Which one cried during a fucking disney movie?

Again Luther. I can see Vanya not being as touched by fictional characters because ‘it’s a show/movie’ 

She doesn’t get how Luther can still cry at the same scenes in disney movies even though most of the time, both of them know that it will all work out in the end, they watched this movie twenty times already. 

Much like Ben, I can see Vanya having a hard time controlling her emotions, regulating them like everyone else seems to be able to do. But instead of feeling numb a lot, she just feels everything so much all the time, sometimes she feels like she’s drowning, all this anger and irritation washing over her and making her snappy and overwhelmed. 

It’s a bit like a switch. One second she’s fine and the next, she’s full of rage because the toothpaste fell down. 

One time, Luther woke up to Vanya crying because she realised pigs don’t have thumbs and just...broke down over that. 

Some people see her and call her cold because she doesn’t seem phased by gruesome stuff on tv or tearjerker scenes, she even feels weird around sad people, not sure how to react and mostly uncomfortable (trying not to let their sadness consume her, make her cry too and ending up way too clinical), but her siblings know that she just has a little harder time processing emotions. 

It’s also hard for her relationship because there are days where she’s really clingy and whiny, hanging off of Luther and prone to crying over little stuff, or talking herself into a frenzy over how she’s too ugly for Luther - Luther’s like ‘???? Have you seen me?????’ and that probably makes Vanya cry harder. 

The next, she cannot stand being touched for too long, everything suffocating, even the air around her. Everything’s too loud. 

Those days, she shuts herself in her room and doesn’t let Luther in, barely tolerates him in front of the door, talking to her in hushed whispers, trying to calm her down. 

(Vanya probably gets some noise cancelling headphones from Five as a present or something and they actually help some).

Sometimes she wonders. Wonders why Luther keeps up with all of this. Why he doesn’t just settle for someone easier, someone who doesn’t have a screaming fit when she has a bad day and Luther forgets to put the wet towels away after showering. Someone who would never make him doubt how deeply she feels for him by being icy and throwing ugly words at him, skin itching and blood running hot. 

Luther only shrugs when she asks him. “I love you.”

And that’s that.

Who put a goddamned fork in the microwave?

With this dynamic I can see Luther at least trying to keep himself in check. Like, ‘Vanya is a grown woman living alone and managing her life, she doesn’t need to feel like she has to baby me because I can’t keep myself from doing weird shit’

And then Vanya tells him - slightly drunk and all blushes and giggles - that she did the fork thing before and Luther has the sudden realization that his wife is just as much of a dumbass as he is

He’s even more in love (but also slightly jealous because he wanted to do the fork thing too).

Those two will also do so much weird shit with Vanya’s powers like, wow. 

“Maybe it’s not a good idea to throw around Mum’s good china-” - “Hush Diego, this is important training.” (They use the china like a frisbee, Luther throws it as hard as possible and Vanya tries to stop it before it crashes against the wall. It surprisingly doesn’t break btw. The wall has holes now though, Luther miscalculated his strength a little). 

I mean, what do you expect of the guy who rides a bicycle indoors and the girl who tried to evoke her powers by scrunching up her face and making superhero gestures?

Who does the silly hands-over-the-eyes “Guess who” thing?

Both would love to do it, but it just isn’t possible. 

Luther absolutely cannot sneak up on Vanya. Under no circumstances. Vanya always hears him from a mile away and as soon as he’s standing in the doorway, she’s already looking in his direction, smiling widely. 

It would be frustrating, if Vanya’s happy face wasn’t so adorable

“Do you smile at everyone approaching you like that?” - “Maybe.”

(Vanya doesn’t tell Luther that she only ever smiles wide for him, arms raised for a hug, doesn’t tell him that she’s tuned in on his heartbeat, knows exactly where he is in the house at all times). 

Vanya on the other hand could technically surprise Luther but how the fuck is she supposed to reach her tree of a husband? How could she ever cover his eyes with her hands, she can barely reach his neck. 

It’s annoying because they wanna be cute together but they still make it work. 

Like, when they meet up, when Luther is walking into the living room and Vanya’s sitting on the couch, she just has to lightly touch her cheek, head tilted, and Luther will lean down to give her a kiss. 

(How many times you wanna bet did Vanya turn her head last second to make him kiss her lips instead of her cheek? Because the answer is loads).

Also, if Vanya feels playful, she’ll help the process along a little. 

Luther is walking towards her and suddenly he will feel a pull, and before he knows it, he’s nose to nose with Vanya, her powers keeping him in place as she smirks and kisses his nose. 

I want Vanya to casually flaunt her powers in general and Luther is totally in awe. Vanya pulls Luther’s head down by simply tilting her head, watches as his eyes go dark before pushing him back lightly, just when he’s about to reach out to her. 

(They play a little game of tag that’s mostly Luther trying to get Vanya into his arms while Vanya playfully dodges him, meets his outstretched hands with an invisible wall, let’s him work for it, before pulling him into her arms. You know, the usual superhero shenanigans).

Who puts their cold hands/feet on their partner?

Vanya. I said it before and I say it again: Luther has bad circulation. That means he’s pretty much always cold so it would make sense for him to do so but I feel like with him, it’s more like Vanya deliberately takes his hands/cuddling up to him to keep him warm, while Vanya - who rarely ever gets really cold - likes just pushing her hands under Luther’s shirt and onto his stomach, snuggling up to him still in her jacket, just stepping into their little flat and immediately pressing her cold nose between Luther’s shoulder blades. He wears so many layers, when Vanya’s freezing to the bone, even Luther feels warm. 

Luther doesn’t complain, doesn’t feel how cold Vanya really is. His perception to temperatures is fucked

(One time he touched a hot plate and didn’t even notice until he saw the angry, red marks left on his hand).

Who had that embarassing Reality TV marathon?

I would like to say neither. Luther can get into Reality TV if his partner is into it and they occasionally end up watching it, but Vanya is very much a book person and if they watch anything trashy, she probably enjoys shitty horror movies (that still make Luther cuddle up to her in fear).

Other than that, Vanya loves really fucked up thrillers. Especially if they're chinese (there’s one where a girl gets killed and a bunch of other girls are so traumatized, they all grow up majorly fucked up). 

Those, Vanya watches alone though. Luther tried to watch with her but he got so scared, he couldn’t sleep anymore. For at least a week. 

(They had to keep a light on and Luther was fucking embarassed about it but Vanya didn’t complain). 

Also, when they do watch horror movies together, they always watch something funny after. Luther is a big fan of romantic comedies. Vanya not so much. 

(She thinks it’s cute when Luther gets overly invested though, loves it when he pulls her closer and kisses the top of her head when the couple on screen confesses how much they love each other. 

It may make Vanya blush. A lot).

Who laughs more during sex?

Neither laugh that much. I mean, smiling and happy giggling are a given - as I would like to believe in every relationship - but I guess they aren’t as much goofy as they are emotional during sex. 

Their sex is always intense because it’s always about crazy amounts of trust those two show each other, trust that had to slowly be rebuild after the apocalypse and it’s not unusual for them to cry, to let their emotions get the best of them, tears falling onto cheeks as both of them whisper love confession in the dark. 

Luego is awkward conversations and funny accidents and big fights that end in make out sessions.

Benther is soft kisses and love confessions and the feeling of fingers running through short hair. 

Lunya is- Lunya is Love.

Lunya is the warm feeling in your heart, looking in your partner’s eyes and thinking: ‘This. This is how it will be. This is forever.’

WHO IS THE LITTLE SPOON?

They switch. It depends on how they are feeling. 

Sometimes Vanya can’t bare the pressure of someone’s arm around her, holding her down, suffocating her. 

Sometimes she needs to feel in control, she needs to be able to pull Luther close, have him curl around her, trying to fit into her arms. This is hers, she won’t ever let him go. 

Luther is fine in either position. He lives for making Vanya happy, and if you’d ask the little selfish part of himself, he loves how safe he feels in Vanya’s arms. Vanya could keep him safe. Vanya will keep him safe.

(Luther wants to curl up in Vanya’s arms forever). 

[rancidtomatoes]

IRONMAN 70.3 Indian Wells – La Quinta – Race Recap

* A video version of this race recap can be found on my YouTube channel here.

A triathlon is a game of contradiction.

You spend hours, weeks, months training for something that lasts moments of your life. Improve at one sport by mastering three. Train slower to race faster. Race slower to race faster. Do it alone, surrounded by people. Never see a finish line as the end.

One of the most challenging contradictions is the trap of identity. To do well, you have to immerse yourself in training for long periods of time. It can become you; consume you. And then what is objectively a meaningless act of physical exertion assumes a station in your life that it never deserved. And you are left with nothing but finish times and medals, to gather dust because nobody cares.

I thought about these contradictions a lot during my training for my first Ironman 70.3 race in Indian Wells – La Quinta California. It seemed fitting in this vein of contradiction that I would train in the cold and snow in order to race in the warm desert. I hoped that by recognizing the contradictions inherent in what I was doing, I could avoid that most challenging trap, and come away with an experience, rather than just another race.

After Musselman in July, I took a break for a few weeks, and then started training again. I had a few minor injuries, which were challenging, but for the most part my training was consistent. I did some bike fitting and got a set of aerobars on my bike. Winter arrived early in Vermont; we had snow on the ground before Thanksgiving. So most of my riding was indoors. I ran outside as much as I could. And weather doesn’t matter in the pool, of course.

Swimming was a major area of focus for me this fall. I got a second swim analysis and really worked on my technique. I was able to take another ten seconds off my 100-yard time, and by December I was swimming faster on average than I ever had.

I had also been trying to eat smarter, both to be healthier and to drop extra weight. With the help of a friend, I definitely had some success here, though it added some stress to our family routine. Kids like what they like.

I was a little concerned about flying my bike to California, because I had only done it once before and I didn’t have to assemble it myself when I arrived that time. So I broke it down and packed it up at the bike shop so I could get guidance with questions that I had and hands-on help from Darren, my friend who owns Vermont Bicycle Shop. I felt a lot more confident once it was all ready to go.

The flights were pretty uneventful, and we made it to San Diego in one piece — including my bike. One of the first things I did was put it back together; I wanted to make sure I would have enough time to solve any problems that came up. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be any and the assembly went pretty smoothly.

The Catamount, my custom Orbea Terra, ready to ride

We spent a few days with my brother’s family in San Diego, hiking at Torrey Pines and playing on the beach. It was a nice way to get acclimated to the environment. It wasn’t as warm as I thought it would be, but it definitely was a lot warmer than Vermont. Locals on the beach were dressed in winter coats and hats, but our girls thought it was the perfect weather for swimming in the Pacific.

Before long it was time to drive to Indian Wells. The amazing scenery on that drive took us all by surprise. We stopped for a moment but the day before the race was very busy so there wasn’t a lot of time for sight-seeing.

After getting the family settled at the hotel, I had my first Ironman athlete check-in experience and got to see the pro panel, which included the eventual race winners Lionel Sanders and Paula Findlay. I checked my run gear in to T2, a little overwhelmed by the enormity of the transition area. Then it was time for a half-hour drive to the swim start and T1, to see the swim course, check in my bike and decontaminate my wetsuit before hanging it on the racks where it would stay until race morning. I made sure to mark it well so I wouldn’t have any trouble finding it.

My day would have gone quite differently if it hadn’t been for my teammate Lacy. She and her husband gave me a lift to the shuttle buses, which was already a great help by itself, but when she mentioned her water bottles I realized I had forgotten something at the hotel. Specifically, all of my hydration. It was still sitting in my refrigerator. They drove me back so I could retrieve them and I was so grateful. Luckily we were up early enough that it didn’t affect our day — we got on a bus with no waiting and were off to the start area.

I knew the water would be cold. The reported temperature that morning was just under 59 degrees. There was no warm-up swim. We stood in line at the rolling start for a long time before finally getting into the water. And then, finally, after everything, I was racing.

The first one or two hundred meters were tough. I was hyperventilating from the shock of the water temperature and struggling to relax and find my rhythm. I expected that, but it didn’t make it any easier. Finally I settled in, though, and found my zone. It was clear pretty quickly that I should have seeded myself further forward; nobody around me was actually swimming at the pace they lined up for. I was crawling over people all the way. My goggles half-filled with water but I ignored it since I could still see. When I finally crawled out of the lake, I had a personal best time of 34 minutes. By my watch, I had swum ten seconds per 100 yards faster than my first 70.3 in July.

As I mounted my bike, I readied myself mentally to face the biggest contradiction of the day. I had programmed the wattage target my coach and I agreed on into my bike computer, and I was going to stick to that number like superglue. The paradox of my plan was that the number was low. It was lower than I had expected. It was lower than it was at my first 70.3, and it was low relative to my power profile. It was so low that it meant I’d be doing what amounted to a zone 2 ride for the entirety of the bike leg.

The plan was predicated on the knowledge that the course was pancake flat, and that triathlons succeed or fail on the run. We would conserve energy on the bike, allowing my inertia to do most of the work, and hopefully get off the bike with enough in the tank to really drop the hammer.

So what the bike ended up being was a test of patience, rather than fitness. My heart rate stayed low, peaking only at the very start during the excitement of transition and climbing a tiny hill out of transition. I spent a lot of the time focused on avoiding drafting as much as I could, but it was pretty difficult considering that the roads were absolutely packed with riders. That forced me to surge occasionally, but it was okay because the course was so flat.

The first 20 miles flew by so fast that I was actually surprised when I saw the mile marker sign. At 30 miles I felt no worse; very comfortable and just cruising along. It was a strong contrast to my last race, where the 30 mile marker saw me doing pretty solid work. I began to get excited about the paradoxical plan as evidence in its favor continued to build. That naturally inclined me to want to push harder, but I redoubled my efforts to stay focused and in my target zone.

The highlight of the bike course by far was the Thermal Raceway, which is a private racetrack for cars that we got to ride around on. My watts went up on that section for sure, but it was a match that was worth burning. It’s a unique experience to ride your bike around a banked track with perfect pavement, designed for million dollar super cars. I had a lot of fun there.

The rest of the course was technically uphill but the gradient was so gradual, I barely noticed. I rode into T2 just 2 watts over my target. My family was cheering at the dismount line, which was a nice boost going into the start of my run.

After racking my bike and strapping on my running shoes, I started out on the final leg, to see if the contradictions would be resolved. Here I was, running in the heat and sun after training for months in the cold and snow. Here I was, having biked slowly on purpose to see if I could do a faster race. And here I was, after weeks of training at a jog, pushing my legs to go fast, and stay fast.

I have always run fast out of transition, because it takes a mile or two before my legs really feel normal and I can tell how my body is actually doing. At my first 70.3, I slowed that pace after the first aid station, feeling that I would have to conserve energy to make it through the run without shutting down. This day, though, I felt strong. I felt no such impending decline. I felt like I could hold the pace. So I didn’t slow down.

The run followed asphalt roads for a couple of miles before turning off onto a golf course, where it tracked around the greens on a winding, undulating path that was a mix of concrete, dirt and grass. There were no long straightaways, no places to hide from the course. It was highly dynamic and constantly changing.

A conclusion I had drawn from my first 70.3 was that I had been underfueled. This time, I ate and drank everything I could get my hands on during the run. I think I probably ate two or three whole bananas, a half at a time, plus several gels and all the coke, gatorade and red bull I could grab. I didn’t slow down during the aid stations; I didn’t want to lose my inertia. At one point I took a cup of ice, dumped it in my hat and packed it onto my head. The contrasts had never been more stark — at home I had been wearing winter hats to keep the snow off my head; today, I was deliberately packing ice onto my scalp.

It was a two-lap course which meant that I had to run agonizingly close to the finish line at around mile seven, only to have to turn around and do the entire thing one more time. Now I knew what to expect, though, and I knew where to push and where I could relax. Now all I had to do was hold my pace.

When the second lap of the course started to beat me, I focused on my family, waiting for me at the finish, and steeled myself in the resolve to make this all worth it. What was the point of asking so much of them, to support my training, to spend an entire day of our vacation standing around, if I didn’t make it worth it? I wasn’t going to slow down for anything.

The last couple of miles were hard and my pace started to slip a little bit, but I was still moving faster than I had ever really expected. I found my family just before the finish line, gave everybody high-fives, and then took it over the line. It was a personal best by a long margin, with personal records in every part of the race. I almost couldn’t believe it, but there it was.

If there’s one thing I learned from this race experience, it’s that you can’t always see contradictions as obstacles. Sometimes, they are puzzle pieces in a larger pattern that you can’t fully recognize until you’ve put it all together. You can’t always resist the things that don’t make sense; sometimes, you have to lean into them, make them part of your plan and see them through to the end. And that’s when you can find clarity.

We closed out our trip with a drive through Joshua Tree National Park, marveling at the natural beauty of the desert before boarding our plane to fly back into winter. With California behind us, it was time to look forward to a new year, and new contradictions.

Watch the video version of this race recap:

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