An ark would be a good thing to own right now in Philadelphia. It's been pouring like a mofo since the middle of the night (broken up by brief periods of just regular old pouring) and, from the sounds of rain currently slamming against the house it's not leaving any time soon.
I should have sucked it up and gone for a long run outside but instead I decided to have a lazy Sunday morning. I finally rolled out of bed a bit after 10 after watching Sunday Morning and reading with napping thrown in for good measure.
I was, however, simply avoiding the inevitable. Bill was kind enough to set up my bike on the trainer in front of the TV, ensuring that the guilt of not riding would be worse than the absolute thrill of a long indoor session.
For as long as I could, I put off hopping on the bike. I ate some oatmeal. I dusted the dining room. I played Words With Friends. I stared at the wall. I made up my water bottles (including one filled with instant Starbucks -- wanted to see if it would rip my gut out or not as a test run for next month's 24-hour race). I stared at the wall some more. I watched the cats sleep. Back to staring at the wall.
Finally, I cold procrastinate no more. It was time. The first 45 minutes was a Spinervals DVD. If you aren't familiar with Spinervals, let me introduce you. Imagine it is 1992. Imagine 17 sweaty riders on trainers set up in what appears to be an empty bar, complete with plastic plants for decoration. Imagine a muscle-head-looking guy with a Madonna-inspired microphone headset. Imagine him yelling at you about cadence, heart rate, gearing, effort, body position and effort. And imagine that it kicks your ass. The DVD looks beyond dated (I am surprised that none of the bikes have downtube shifters) and the music is exceptionally terrible, but I don't care because it always crushes me. Within the first five minutes I was ready to be done but stuck with it for 45 minutes for some arm and core work.
And on I went, repeating 45 minutes or so on the bike with 15 minutes or so on the mat for what ended up being close to 3 1/2 hours (including a break for Wheat Thins and a cherry pie Lara bar which was actually quite delicious). I managed to keep myself occupied while on the bike, between music, an old issue of Outside magazine that I found underneath the bed and watching the Flyers lose in impressive fashion to the Rangers.
Not the most exciting training session I've ever had, but the longest I've ever done without leaving the house. I'll take it, considering I didn't get out of bed until practically lunch time!