Cassandra: After my fun bike rides last weekend, I was really looking forward to biking this week. My, how quickly things can change. I was supposed to ride on Thursday, my day off, for my first ride of the week. I had planned an indoor session on the trainer. I didn't feel like getting up early to bike before my doctor's appointment, and I didn't feel like biking when I got home, either. I decided I'd put it off until evening, but when evening rolled around I was kind of grumpy and decided I was emotionally unable to get on the trainer. So I didn't. I figured I would just ride extra on Friday and this coming Monday instead, to make up the miles.

Last night, Friday, I still didn't feel like getting on the trainer. But I knew I had to force myself to do it. My conversation with myself sounded something like this:

"I really don't want to get on that bike. I could use the time to do so many things ... and, come on ... it's Friday night! Who wants to be riding a stationary bike on a Friday night?"

Responsible Cassandra kicked in. "Yeah, but I can't just ditch out on my training miles. I committed to mom ... I can't ask her to do the STP with me and then ditch out on training."

The other Cassandra was back with a response. "Maybe mom doesn't want to train three times this week, either! We could both take it a little easy."

And so it continued until Responsible Cassandra won out and I climbed on the darn trainer. I had only planned to ride for an hour, so I just wore regular capris instead of my padded bike pants. At the one hour mark, my seat was really starting to hurt, but I got a second burst of energy along with my second episode of "Army Wives" so I kept going for another half an hour. My seat pain got progressively worse, until I could barely stand it on the bike during the last five minutes of my ride.

But, I am happy to say that I pulled through. An hour and a half and about 23 miles later, my time was done. Thankfully, I was able to enjoy some of my Friday night still.

Unfortunately, something kept tugging at me. And that something was knowing that I would have to get up this morning and ride again, this time for two hours. Technically, this weekend we are supposed to ride 40 miles on Saturday and 40 miles on Sunday, but I knew that doing 40 miles each day on the trainer, because of the rain, would be a recipe for disaster. So I made an executive decision to ride for two hours each day.

This morning when I woke up, it was disheartening to realize that my morning wouldn't start for another two hours because of my ride. I had another internal conversation, much like the one that occurred last night, but after putting on my biking clothes (and this time choosing padded shorts), I fired up my music and warmed up with five minutes of dancing before getting on the bike. I figured that I would make the time go by faster by watching more "Army Wives," which usually works to keep me entertained on long rides on the trainer. But, for some reason, this morning time crawled by, even with the distraction of all of the drama on t.v. I glanced down at my watch the first time and only 20 minutes had gone by since I had gotten on the bike! I was biking at around 140 BPM, and pedaling around 15 mph, so I was getting a good body workout, but it also seemed like I was getting a mind workout, trying to keep my motivation up. I kept willing for time to fast-forward, for the two hours to be up. But, if anything, time just went slower.

I am happy to report that I did finish my two hours this morning, as painful as it was. I guess that's the most important thing: to finish something even when everything in you is shouting that it would be so much easier - and so much more fun - to quit. I wish that training for the STP were a perpetual high, but the truth is that sometimes it just feels like lots of work. Oh, and a sore tush.

I am supposed to ride again tomorrow but I think I am going to push the ride to the evening so I give my muscles a little bit of a break. Happy Saturday!