C3 spin class with coach no-mercy Porten.
I took the little 'bent with road tires, and got a fair ribbing when we were supposed to stand on the pedals. Ended up with a real hammerfest- I rarely get my HR up to 180 on the trainer.
Off to meet the intrepid Harps at The Shed for lunch after.
Commute with the big guy.
I had to walk down the dicey corner near us. Bazingadog really stepped on the gas when we saw 4 deer, but he just stayed on the trail with my waxless skis howling on the hard snow at top speed. Probably the fastest we've gone yet due to the quick conditions.
After the first km it was basically a dog-walk though, more scratch-and-sniff than pull and run.
Skijoring30:00 [3]
The big boy was just ambling along in Palgrave East, but always puts the hammer down within 1km of home. Probably the last ski for a while- wind and rain coming.
Commute with Mocha aka Bulletdog, who is still pretty quick at 10 years old.
Too icy to Skijor with the big guy. Snow's a bit sketchy but still skiable.
Bash got steaks for the dogs for dinner (and an extra nice one for her) which Veggie-boy here will BBQ for them.
Short outing for the dogs. Soft snow made for slow going.
10 AM
Running1:46:43 12.15 km (8:47 / km) +184m8:10 / km shoes: Icebugs Gryllo Green
O-cup Eldred King. Includes warm-up.
Started OK in the first box, but got totally turned around on singletrack heading to 1 and after ages of wandering, where the map just didn't look right after coming across various unmapped snowshoe trails, decided to throw in the towel.
I finally retraced my steps back to 8, then decided to make the most of it and run the course backwards, taking bush-routes to controls instead of the massive highway of footprints. Didn't do the whole second box as I didn't want to be out over 2 hrs, but probably had time to do more. Oh well, fun day out in the woods if a train-wreck race. I think Bash was more disappointed for me than I was.
Looking at my GPS I blew 20 minutes on parallel errors circling around back to 8, but it felt like a *lot* more. At least if I'd gotten an arrow in my butt, I'd have known if I was on the out-of-bounds "active archery range". (I wasn't.)