Go be a tourist

has been the name of the game today, I have been punishing myself in the gym 3-5 times a week with the Core Performance routines and starting the longish rides at least 2 days a week, hard to believe that 3 hours of high cadence work can leave me so damn tired, but I really am starting from a ways back and need to stay patient this spring to do well this fall.

Anyhoo , It was all about soigneur duties today down in the SC.

A little rain over the summit at 5:30 am looked gloomy, but the day got nicer and nicer.

Miz C's race started late, at 7:20, absolutely crappy race management, very unimpressed with the organization, they ran out of drinks, food, etc for the slower runners, probably the ones that need the support the most.

Little C and I bounced ASAP for some breakfast and found the Seabreeze Cafe, I remember a blog entry from somewhere about this spot this winter, and through cyberspace found it again, it's not Foodie Friday but who cares and I gotta plug it, a GREAT tofu scramble and fresh out of the oven cinnamon roll with some dark cafe and lots of salsa over some non-greasy homefries, just perfect.

Miz C came shuffling in nursing a sore toe/hip/knee/cramp wheels came off thing, not a happy camper she was and that damn running will beat ya up quick.

But the people watching was superb.

The cruz has a few interesting folks, but it wasn't the locals that really caught my eye, it was the runners . Before the race they all look good, even the unfit. Some wear the tri- emblems- a bike jersey in club cut over running shorts with elastic laces and a been -there- done that running hat.A few cover themselves with clothes from head to toe, and others wear as little as possible, even in 51 degree rain, and I wonder what message they are trying to send to the others in the tribe. My favorites are the old guys with baseball hats and cotton t-shirts, wheezing through the warmup, been doing this stuff since before Jim Fixx, got their New Balance order down to a T.

Wait till the finish and it's a different game, the early focused ones, digging into the pain cave, the medal awaiting them.
The next group of exuberant ones, PR's for this bunch, the training has paid off and they had the race of their lives/ year/ season and they are savoring every moment as they can hear the announcer faintly from a block away.
Then the various finishing looks start to show, the hollow eyes that refuse to look at the bystander to not let the pain out of control, the jogging together saving private ryan move, not leaving your buddy behind no matter what, the whoop-de -doos that are smiling like a boxer that will fall if he gets hit once more, hoo-rah-ing to keep the negative thoughts away.

Or the folks that give out a quiet "thanks" when they hear a cheer for them and keep on trucking ....
"The eyes are the windows to the soul".