Countdown - 30

days till Chicago. I want to be in a cabin, by a fire, watching the leaves change and drinking warmth all day, feet up or I'm out the door chugging mileage, earning oxygen until race day; all this other stuff is distracting. I made it through the bun of my death sandwich (week one). Originally, there were to be 3 death weeks of high mileage and acute workouts, but Ber & I reassessed & figure it's all a make-believe land of numbers (to see how far we can push) instead of a healthy, lasting path towards progressive development & absorption of benefits. The workouts I do alone are lonely, but I pile them into the excel spreadsheet like a good student & I'm thinking I've never been this dedicated in anything else in life except for Love.

Workouts usually go great for the first 75%, I hang on out of sadistic willpower for the next 20%, then the last 5% I think - What Am I Even Doing? I hobble home, take a hot shower which bakes me zombie for several hours. After that, I try to come back around, but you better not say anything dickish to me. I won't respond with good english, but I will take everything pretty personally.

All logistics for Chi-town are set. We'll be staying in a spacious vrbo in old town. We've got a 4-woman team to compete in the team division. It feels good to have everything planned, to think I'll be boarding the plane alone, to follow through with a plan I've invested in.

Last evening Al, Ber & I met with a photographer on Gailbraith & shot with him for several hours; the photos will go up on a rad interactive site - GAILBRAITH MOUNTAIN MAP. Afterwards Scott the Fox made us this: