Today was a one run, one cross train day.

8m in the morning.  50 min bike in the evening.  The bonus was that I was riding my new Kuota Kebel.  Other than my seat hurting like a mofo, the bike was butter.  Creamy, barely-soft-enough-to-spread-evenly butter.

Jesse and I rode together for the first time since our honeymoon or shortly thereafter.  Of course we were on two totally different emotional waves; him agitated and uptight about his upcoming Escape From Alcatraz Triathlon next weekend, me euphoric with the prospect of testing out my new ride.  So we end up squabbling about me pushing the pace, essentially killing my good mood.  Ah well, that’s how it goes when you have two professional athletes in two different sports on tight training schedules trying to train together for the first time in ages.  Well, neither of us crashed, so it was a successful ride in that respect.

Then we went out to dinner with some people I don’t know very well, and it was a struggle to stay involved in the insider conversations.  After two hours of that, and the aforementioned hour of bike riding, all I could handle doing was solitary quiet activities.  As is my usual reaction upon leaving such situations, I completely withdraw into my own space, leaving Jesse puzzled, while I put on headphones and play keyboard that only I can hear, or read, or type on my blog.  I just can’t handle being around anyone for a while.  An outsider might call this pouting.  Its not.  Its more of a…solitary confinement for emotional detox.  This seems to happen every time I’m in a social situation that doesn’t turn out how I imagined it.  The bike ride and dinner combo fit that bill, leaving me craving a hot bath and an early bed time.