Winter's zapping my road fitness

Old Man Winter's recently had a wicked grip on our state for the last couple of weeks; consequently that means no road miles, no hour of power. I've been running but really there's nothing like pedaling on the road with a nice stiff wind blasting you and a pack to draft from. It is Winter, but still I thought I was making some headway. Got invited to go to a spin class with my friend Hez-chilly-that was cool. Sweated my arse off; got a pretty decent workout too. Guess I also need to prepare for that half-marathon.

This past Sunday I probably logged in seven miles running. 5 on the treadmill with another two chasing my son on his bike on the bike trails with my pootchies in tow. There was a bunch of run-off from the melting snow so we were pretty wet. Still wished I coulda rode.

Have one more day on my four-pass at WinterPark. If Moab's going to be a bust this weekend, I'm either going to go skiing or I'm going to get a bunch of off road miles in a town south of us called Pueblo. My weight's down but I really need to start stressing my body with more endurance base miles. No weight training 'cept using my shlubby self as resistance doing pushups and situps.

Mentally I need to pull that trigger and commit but I don't know why I'm so apprehensive about riding in slushy weather. I hate cleaning my bike that's for sure and if I don't go off-roading while the mud still's frozen I won't do it at all. Work and parenthood, oooweee. I ask myself why do I pay licensing fees to race at an amateur level when the dividends aren't so good. My friend told me six hours is the magic number for competitive cyclists who are also parents. Six hours? How do you find the time to ride six hours (per week) on the road, check your kids homework, cook dinner, grade, and have reading before bedtime? My time management's average but six hours? Really? In the summer, when school's out though on good weeks I can get close to ten. I have to wait until May until then and by that part of the season my fitness is playing catch up to my cohorts in the pack. I make do. I have to I suppose if I want to not become a super sluggo where my waist circumference exceeds my pectoral measurements, soon after followed by man boobs. Yuck. Guess it's my vanity that makes the suffering rewarding, quantifiable, and valuable. Don't hold it against me; instead send some positive energy my way so's the weather gods and goddesses make Moab climactically doable for the homey trinity.