Without being at all specific, I had some disturbing lack of what I will call “gumption” in what I will call “the bedroom” last night.

It was not what you’d call erectile disfunction. That part was fine. I was just too tired to convert a good start into a grand finish.

It’s kind of messing with my head game a little bit because I see no reason why a 34 year old man shouldn’t be able to ride three miles to the pool, swim a mile and a half, then ride four miles home and still be able to put on a reasonable show later that evening.

I may be old. I may be overtrained. I have no idea which it is or if its a combination of both, but I do know that it’s only going to get worse in both cases because in a few months from now I’ll be training easily twice as much as I am now and more.

And by then I’ll be 35.

I was waiting for a light to change on Boulevard yesterday and my friend Kate roared up in her truck, honked, and made a right to pull alongside me. She let her window down.

She’s always trying to get me to bring her treats at work even though I never have. I guess you’d call that optimism.

She finished the conversation by saying “So I’ll see you in a few minutes with that ice cream then,”

“Yep!” I said.

Down the street about two blocks I locked my bike up and walked to the door of the Martin Luther King Natatorium where I do my long swims on Wednesdays, only to find the door locked. A sign read “Closed until 1:30 for monthly meeting”.

I looked at my watch. 1:28 PM.

I waited.

Eventually a guy came and slowly unlocked the door, starting a mad dash among those waiting, all thirty to sixty year old adults, to sign in, change, and get in a lane and start swimming. I was first to the pool. I got in and started my 2600 yards feeling very pleased with myself for being first.

I stopped by the lifeguard high chair thing, though, and told the guy I would share my lane if I had to. I don’t mind swimming in circles down the lane. It’s what we do at group swim on Mondays anyway.

On the way out I got the call that my road bike was ready at the shop. So despite the grey occasional rain droplet weather, I decided to ride by my local shop and visit my bike.

When I got there I discovered that I had put the levers on and hooked them up backwards, meaning they’d have to be redone. The mechanic had finished the bike up that way figuring that’s just how I liked my brakes. He said I should have left him notes on the ticket.

“Well, I can’t just write ‘I am an idiot’ on there every time..” I tried, by way of admission of guilt.

“Actually there is an idiot tax…” he said.

I deserved that.

I discovered a strange noise my fixed/beater bike was making was due to a loose screw in the crank and fixed it on the way to swim last night. The weather was finally nice enough to ride over to the pool at Georgia Tech, which saved me a lot of annoying parking issues.

Parking on the GA Tech campus is slightly less annoying than plucking out one’s own eyelashes with a pair of pliers. But only slightly.

The workout was only 2000 yards, and I ended up swimming it in about 35 minutes which is the fastest B workout I have done so far. I guess I need to move up to the A workout now in order to put in a full hour of swimming. Instead, I will probably start using my ironman and half ironman plans as I spool up for those races.

After my hill workout tonight I got to craving some coffee, so I pulled on a shirt and stuffed a clif bar in my pocket and drove to the coffee shop. I thought about making some myself at home, but I don’t have any decaf.

When I got there I spotted a Marathon how-to book behind the counter. I asked whose it was, and the barista said she was running the half on sunday. I said I was running the full, and we got to talking about running and whatnot and I mentioned that I am doing an ironman in august.

She said “Really, let me see you pick up all those things…” waving her hand at a bank of coffee dispensers. I declined to try to explain that it doesn’t really work that way.

She asked how long my training runs tended to be, and I said that I had attempted 20 mile runs a few times. She was amazed.

She said “I’ve been running four miles twice a week since January…”

I laughed and said “You are FUCKED!” and that made me laugh even harder, so I just headed out the door, still laughing. Four miles twice a week.

So I feel better now about not being prepared for my 4:00 marathon.

Yesterday I rode with the Faster Mustache crew all in our new ’09 race kits. It was great to be on a bike.

I flipped the stem on my allez, which gives me -8 degrees rise which seems to cancel out the headtube angle almost exactly. I rode all day with the flipped stem and didn’t notice any comfort issues.

In fact, I rode for a few hours with those guys, got changed and went to a party, then got started jonesing to ride at the party so I came home and got suited up and went riding again.

This time I rode with Mellie, who had her first to zero mile per hour falls with her new clipless pedals. She was nervous to be riding in traffic, but I was very proud of her.

This morning I rode down Virginia and across the park to Einsteins to meet Reena and Kate for breakfast. Then I rode home, changed, and went down to the shops to grab a present for Annabelle.

I found a neat little bathtub fishing pole game for her that has magnets that stick the little cloth fish to the fishing line lure thing. It’s cute. There’s a little green turtle and a fish and a duck, I think.

The girl who checked me out was wearing a lot of mid-level perfume which didn’t entirely cover the smell of her cigarettes. You can’t fool me, honey. I smoked a pack a day for ten years. I can smell a cigarette a mile away.

You think you’re sneaky, smokers, with your breath mints and whatnot, but you stink and we can smell it.

Got to hang out with dad and Steve and my sister and Chuck and everyone else. Everyone wanted to know what’s going on with my training, so I talked a lot about it. Chuck was characteristically not horribly forthcoming about bikes, but I overheard another cycling family member talking to him about it so I leaped into their conversation.

After the party I took a nap in my car in an abandoned parking lot somewhere in Alabama under a fruit tree of some kind. Then I drove home listening to the Ricky Gervais podcast.

And now I’m about to go to sleep. This is taper week which means I won’t get to each much and I have to drink a ton of water.

Marathon sunday. I am nervous about it.

I have found a new band called Wintersleep via their album Welcome to the Night Sky, and I’m glad because it’s awesome.

I am watching a music documentary that seemed really smart and incisive when I first saw it a few years ago, but now seems very dated.

It features a bunch of musicians and music industry people complaining about the major labels and music industry practices. Their complaint is that music is all about the money anymore and artists like Stevie Wonder or Ray Charles would never have been given a shot in today’s climate.

Well, that’s true. Okay, so we can agree that it should be about the music and not about the money. Got it.

But the musicians are also bitching about their MP3s being downloaded. And they’re pissed because new music is “harder to find” because it’s not on the radio.

Well, times have changed, musicians. You can’t sell music anymore. The good news is that this fact and the emergence of the internet means everyone is on a level playing field.

So, it’s really about the music again. So go make some.