Training continues, focusing on conditioning and strength Varying the routine so we don’t get burned out on riding (and/or falling). This morning was intervals and weights. Intervals are basically where you do something that sucks at a simmer and then make it really suck by bringing it top a rolling boil for a short time, then back down to low suck – then back up to rolling boiling suck. It’s supposed to increase aerobic capacity and up your lactate threshold. Aerobics are little creatures like amoeba. When you try to run or do strenuous stuff they squeeze the crap out of your lungs and jump on your heart like a trampoline – until you stop. Lactate is acid that juices up your muscles – in case the aerobics aren’t getting through to you – the acid bathes your muscles causing excruciating pain and eventually hardening like cement so you freeze up and collapse. Intervals wake up your aerobics and stir up your lactates until you sprint, at which point they team up to punish you! So we strive to train our aerobics and cool our lactates and make working out suck less. The dogs of course love this as it appears as chaos and great dog fun. First you trot along and then GO CRAZY – fly out to the end of the leash – run like the wind – jump and spin – woof and growl – and back down to a trot… and then do it again! All while the silly humans grunt and sweat and gasp. So I turn up the iPod and get rolling. Up to the first sprint and I look at Sparky and say – GO! She starts off running and I think I hear her say something. When we come back down to jog/walk I pull out my earbud and ask – “Did you say – YOU SUCK?” She rolls her eyes, shakes her head and says “I said BLUE DUCK” “What does that mean?” I ask. She says – “You didn’t see it?” Just shake my head, put my earbud back and get ready for the next sprint. GO! I hear something AGAIN! “Did you call me a bastard?” “C’mom!” she says “I was singing and the song said PLASTERED.” “What song was that?” I ask. “Do I quiz you about your music?” she replies. Turn my music down and get ready for the next round. GO!!! NOW THAT’s IT! “You called me dickweed – I heard it clearly!” “I was pointing out the particular species of weed back there… dickweed.” “DICKWEED? C’mon – that sounds like something I’D make up.” “Quit being a child” she chides. Now I’m not a botanoligist or plantologist – so I really can’t argue whether there really is such a weed – so I say… “Show me a dickweed.” She points in the direction of the grass and says – it’s mixed in with the grass – not hard to find around here – dickweed.” I just decide to let it go and keep on working out. But as we get moving again – it’s MY turn. Now she pulls out her earphone and says “Did you just call me a bitch?” “C’mon now dear – I was merely pointing out the DITCH – wouldn’t want you to fall in!” She lets me get away with it but then I have to stop her again! “WHAT?” “GRASSHOLE! I said GRASSHOLE – that’s what I call DITCHES.” she shouts. Nearing home now and as we hit the driveway she takes off her iPod and says – “You better have said duck pooh.” I just grinned and said “Whatever you think you heard dear.” Tomorrow is physioball – it gives the neighbors a break from us shouting at each other in the street at 530 AM. The dogs love chasing the balls and licking our faces as we lie where we fall off the balls. I’m not sure what it’s good for…