Sep 25, 2013
It’s Century Week! That magical week of rest, eating, anticipation, relaxing, looking backing – you know, tapering.
Tapering is the practice of reducing exercise in the days just before an important competition. Tapering is customary in many endurance sports, such as the marathon, athletics and swimming. For many athletes, a significant period of tapering is essential for optimal performance. The tapering period frequently lasts as much as a week or more.
The MS City to Shore ride is this Saturday and I, along with my team, are booking 100 miles in one day. It should be a good time. The MS Society puts on a good tour and raises a lot of money.
#CenturyWeek
I feel a little guilty this century week due to my lack of discipline and training this year. Century week is supposed to be the reward for hard work and I feel like I didn't work hard enough. Things that didn’t happen were me riding to the Rocky Statue and hitting my 60 mile long rides.
I do plan to continue riding throughout the fall and winter – both outside and on my bike trainer at home.
New This Year
This is my second year riding the century (I documented last years training and ride in a series of posts located on my Manda's Century page.) My training program was not as intense as last year as evidenced by me not having a full-blown adrenal crash mid-way through. I am a little disappointed in myself, still. I wanted to do more. My bike training is full of inner turmoil.
Additionally, I have a team to look after. I did my best on prepping them and encouraging training. Most of it fell by the way-side but my super-ridiculously-handsome man-friend came along with me for some long rides – the most we did was 51.1 miles. A good distance.
I feel a sense of responsibility toward my team because last year I had to learn and do all this biking stuff on my own. I didn't want to abandon anyone or lead them down some type of wrong path. Some of my frustration was due to anxiety in prepping them correctly and some of it was because I really love doing this but I had to tone myself back because you don’t go all athletic cray-cray on newbies.
Future Plans
Since I only participated in two biking events this summer, I’m hoping to book at least one more this fall.
If you remember, I had my whole year planned out with biking events, documented in my My Year In Biking post. While I respect myself's passion, I whack myself's with a rolled-up newspaper for over-estimating my abilities.
I did participate in Girls with Gears - wrote about that in my Sports Weekend: 5Ks and Bike Rides. Other than that, this century is all I got going on so far. I do plan to do the Covered Bridges Ride in October - maybe someone will even want to come along with me. Once you make someone do a century with you, expectations for participation sort of go way down.
Winter biking is not something I did last year, it feels like a new frontier that I’d be interested in learning about.
Go fitness! But, you know, after century week.
Be Part of the Adventure
Do you have a suggestion or want to see me attempt something? Drop me an email at AdventuringAmanda@gmail.com with your suggestions
Tapering is the practice of reducing exercise in the days just before an important competition. Tapering is customary in many endurance sports, such as the marathon, athletics and swimming. For many athletes, a significant period of tapering is essential for optimal performance. The tapering period frequently lasts as much as a week or more.
The MS City to Shore ride is this Saturday and I, along with my team, are booking 100 miles in one day. It should be a good time. The MS Society puts on a good tour and raises a lot of money.
#CenturyWeek
I feel a little guilty this century week due to my lack of discipline and training this year. Century week is supposed to be the reward for hard work and I feel like I didn't work hard enough. Things that didn’t happen were me riding to the Rocky Statue and hitting my 60 mile long rides.
I do plan to continue riding throughout the fall and winter – both outside and on my bike trainer at home.
New This Year
 |
| Biking |
Additionally, I have a team to look after. I did my best on prepping them and encouraging training. Most of it fell by the way-side but my super-ridiculously-handsome man-friend came along with me for some long rides – the most we did was 51.1 miles. A good distance.
I feel a sense of responsibility toward my team because last year I had to learn and do all this biking stuff on my own. I didn't want to abandon anyone or lead them down some type of wrong path. Some of my frustration was due to anxiety in prepping them correctly and some of it was because I really love doing this but I had to tone myself back because you don’t go all athletic cray-cray on newbies.
 |
| Resting |
Since I only participated in two biking events this summer, I’m hoping to book at least one more this fall.
If you remember, I had my whole year planned out with biking events, documented in my My Year In Biking post. While I respect myself's passion, I whack myself's with a rolled-up newspaper for over-estimating my abilities.
I did participate in Girls with Gears - wrote about that in my Sports Weekend: 5Ks and Bike Rides. Other than that, this century is all I got going on so far. I do plan to do the Covered Bridges Ride in October - maybe someone will even want to come along with me. Once you make someone do a century with you, expectations for participation sort of go way down.
Winter biking is not something I did last year, it feels like a new frontier that I’d be interested in learning about.
Go fitness! But, you know, after century week.
Be Part of the Adventure
Do you have a suggestion or want to see me attempt something? Drop me an email at AdventuringAmanda@gmail.com with your suggestions
Sep 20, 2013
A friend's infant girl of just a year or so old in a pretty pink dress was clumsily playing with a boy of about the same age, “He better keep away from my princess,” her dad knowingly told the boy's father. Everyone laughed and complimented him for being such a good father of such a pretty princess.
A lot of fathers say they protect their daughters. The image of a young girl dressed in a pink dress with her hair and makeup all done, and normally a decided frown, while her father chases off boys is the archetype of fatherly love. A lot of fathers raise their daughters like untouched princesses – and in this way, her value and what the world wants of her is located only between her legs and in the impression she gives to her father. She knows she is a princess, her existence alone is a gift to everyone but she lives in fear of the unknown world outside the range of her father’s shotgun.
My father never did that.
He told me about boys and men and the games and tricks they play. He didn't pretend I would never have sex or would never have my heart broken. He didn't pretend these tricks and games weren't fun, either, he taught me how to protect my body, my heart and my mind. There are temptations and there are consequences and he knew I would experience both.
He never failed to acknowledge my failures with encouragement or my successes with pride – if not a pinch of caution when my ego got to big. He bit his tongue when I engaged in less-than-perfect relationships, career choices or friendships. When the dust settled, he also told me when he was scared for me because sometimes even he could not prevent the worse-case scenario.
My father never sat on the porch with a shotgun. He taught me how to use the shotgun, how to spot the douche and let me deal with him myself. He taught me whenever I was in trouble, he would stop the world to help me – but stupidity and inexperience leave justifiable bruises that I need to learn from sometimes. It was more important for him to develop within me a good character not worry about my reputation.
He taught me every guy-trick and guy-skill he knew. He invited me into the boy’s club, to the shooting range, the garage and the basement. He taught me just as women have things that are sacred, so do men and I needed to respect both places equally. He taught me life isn’t fair, you don’t always get what you want.
He never failed to open a door for me, to carry a bag for me or tell me I was wrong. And even in the darkness of my mistakes, he always treated me with respect, love and understanding.
My father taught me some males only want what is between my legs and some want more and it was up to me to decide how much I give or how much I ignore. And at the end of the day, I must deal with the consequences of my decisions. But a consequence would never be the loss of his love.
My father sat on the porch with a gin and tonic and invited whoever I thought was worthy in. You see, he knew if he was the gatekeeper of my life, eventually someone would get past him and once that happened, I would be in serious trouble. So, he armed me with knowledge to make my own decision and keep myself safe. He taught me one day he would not be there and being without him would not result in my demise.
My father didn't protect me by deflecting the evil of the world away from me; he protected me by opening up the world to me. He didn't raise me as a princess sitting in a gilded cage, he raised me to be a citizen of the world – to give a little more than I think I could, to always be grateful, to stand up for myself and others, to cry and laugh without shame, to be quiet and listen, to admit when I am wrong, to know what the high-road is in every situation and understand the choice is mine to take it.
When I think about it all, I think my father raised me to be a queen – to rule my own world, to make decisions, to dress in the riches of my own work, to be humble and grateful for what I have. I’m not always a perfect steward in the lessons he taught me. But, being perfect was never the plan.
A friend’s infant girl of just a year or so old in a pretty pink dress was clumsily playing with a boy of about the same age, “He better keep away from my princess,” her dad knowingly told the boy’s father. Everyone laughed and complimented him for being such a good father of such a pretty princess.
Be Part of the Adventure
Do you have a suggestion or want to see me attempt something? Drop me an email at AdventuringAmanda@gmail.com with your suggestions.
A lot of fathers say they protect their daughters. The image of a young girl dressed in a pink dress with her hair and makeup all done, and normally a decided frown, while her father chases off boys is the archetype of fatherly love. A lot of fathers raise their daughters like untouched princesses – and in this way, her value and what the world wants of her is located only between her legs and in the impression she gives to her father. She knows she is a princess, her existence alone is a gift to everyone but she lives in fear of the unknown world outside the range of her father’s shotgun.
My father never did that.
He told me about boys and men and the games and tricks they play. He didn't pretend I would never have sex or would never have my heart broken. He didn't pretend these tricks and games weren't fun, either, he taught me how to protect my body, my heart and my mind. There are temptations and there are consequences and he knew I would experience both.
He never failed to acknowledge my failures with encouragement or my successes with pride – if not a pinch of caution when my ego got to big. He bit his tongue when I engaged in less-than-perfect relationships, career choices or friendships. When the dust settled, he also told me when he was scared for me because sometimes even he could not prevent the worse-case scenario.
My father never sat on the porch with a shotgun. He taught me how to use the shotgun, how to spot the douche and let me deal with him myself. He taught me whenever I was in trouble, he would stop the world to help me – but stupidity and inexperience leave justifiable bruises that I need to learn from sometimes. It was more important for him to develop within me a good character not worry about my reputation.
He taught me every guy-trick and guy-skill he knew. He invited me into the boy’s club, to the shooting range, the garage and the basement. He taught me just as women have things that are sacred, so do men and I needed to respect both places equally. He taught me life isn’t fair, you don’t always get what you want.
He never failed to open a door for me, to carry a bag for me or tell me I was wrong. And even in the darkness of my mistakes, he always treated me with respect, love and understanding.
My father taught me some males only want what is between my legs and some want more and it was up to me to decide how much I give or how much I ignore. And at the end of the day, I must deal with the consequences of my decisions. But a consequence would never be the loss of his love.
My father sat on the porch with a gin and tonic and invited whoever I thought was worthy in. You see, he knew if he was the gatekeeper of my life, eventually someone would get past him and once that happened, I would be in serious trouble. So, he armed me with knowledge to make my own decision and keep myself safe. He taught me one day he would not be there and being without him would not result in my demise.
My father didn't protect me by deflecting the evil of the world away from me; he protected me by opening up the world to me. He didn't raise me as a princess sitting in a gilded cage, he raised me to be a citizen of the world – to give a little more than I think I could, to always be grateful, to stand up for myself and others, to cry and laugh without shame, to be quiet and listen, to admit when I am wrong, to know what the high-road is in every situation and understand the choice is mine to take it.
When I think about it all, I think my father raised me to be a queen – to rule my own world, to make decisions, to dress in the riches of my own work, to be humble and grateful for what I have. I’m not always a perfect steward in the lessons he taught me. But, being perfect was never the plan.
A friend’s infant girl of just a year or so old in a pretty pink dress was clumsily playing with a boy of about the same age, “He better keep away from my princess,” her dad knowingly told the boy’s father. Everyone laughed and complimented him for being such a good father of such a pretty princess.
Be Part of the Adventure
Do you have a suggestion or want to see me attempt something? Drop me an email at AdventuringAmanda@gmail.com with your suggestions.
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