We've just returned from a week and some odd days at the beach.
Swim training in the ocean is sort of similar to the swim sections of the She ROX; choke, gag, stroke and all that.
I did sort of get the hang of it, however, and by mid week was managing 1100 yd swims without too much added waterloggish suffering.
In addition, early in the week, The Man and I rode 26 miles north (which is nearly to the end of the island) and I did a pleasant brick early one morning, mid week, with a ten mile bike sprint to the south end followed by a six mile, Flat (with a capital "F") out and back to the fishing pier.
Training while on vacation is, I suppose, the equivalent to eating a snowcone without the flavoring, or driving a Maserati at 5 miles per hour; there's still novelty, but the real flavor of the thing is rather missing.
Never a people to be denied, by Thursday, the entire family Stink began to deviate a bit from the training schedule.
Let's just call it cross training.
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