Laps

I know people like my wife and father-in-law who think swimming laps in a pool tones body and mind in the most delightful way.  Too bad I have the buoyancy of a rock.  My laps tend to come on a bicycle.

I got to the 606 pretty early on Thursday with the intention of doing eighteen 2.7-mile laps, good for fifty miles once you throw in the distance I bike getting to the trail.  The thing about laps, at least for me, is that you have to want to do them and keep doing them.  The physical depends on the mental, you could say.

It was a nice day, sunny, not too hot or windy.  I did 33 miles while breaking just once for water; figure that took at most 90 seconds.  Then I did another two laps to get close to 40 miles.  Then I took another water break followed by a nice long rest in the shade.

Long story short, I made too much like the hare instead of the tortoise.  What did Strother Martin say in “Cool Hand Luke,” a man has got to know his limitations?  I set a pace that would’ve done Michael Phelps proud, only there was no reason to.  Oh, well, at least I didn’t end up at the bottom of the pool.  Fifty miles turned to forty-five.  You live and learn.