I’ve blogged before about my futile quest for abs due to the fact that I love food more than I love watching what I eat to the point where I can burn down the prevalent layer of chunk encasing my perpetually hidden abdominal muscles. The closest I’ve ever gotten to visible abs have been the bottom of my ribcage and the beginnings of an oblique indentation, which promptly disappears once I hoover a taco platter and some frozen custard. Unfortunately for me, I’ve recently made a stupid decision. Having grown tired of seeing my teammates frolic in Hawaii every June while I’m...

I mentioned in my Rev 3 recap that in the days leading up to the race, my left hamstring got really tight and that the hammy and groin muscle gave me grief during the cycling portion of the race. It’s been intermittently sore since then, so I finally hunkered down and saw the physical therapist because I’m starting to get tired of being a couch potato. I can only stay in and play videogames on a sunny day so many times before I start feeling like a fat turd, so a couple weeks ago I trekked over to Fremont to see the doc. He instantly diagnosed me not with hamstring issues but hip flexor...

Most of my posts on Mediocre Athlete contain self-deprecating comments and faux-negativity about my workouts or my races. I do it for the lulz, but the truth is that nobody is harder on me than myself. At the end of the day, I am my own worst enemy, an exceptionally tough critic. I’m sure a lot of you feel the same way; after all, a big reason you train for a race, no matter the distance, is to push yourself outside your comfort zone to see what you’re truly made of. For me though, I often push myself so hard that it can end up being detrimental. I’m like my own overbearing Asian...

On Monday I went to dryland strength conditioning, and that day Bridget decided to get cute with us and change up the routine a bit. She did a 30 seconds on/30 seconds rest/30 seconds on workout where we’d be at a station doing reps for half a minute before getting a break. That’s all well and good if the person running the workout is paying attention to the clock and timing everything properly; unfortunately, a couple times Bridget would get too caught up in watching everyone’s form to remember to check her watch and realize that she had been punishing us well past the :30 mark. (She...

Hey, remember when I did an Ironman? (Yes, I will continue to mention it because it’s a frickin’ Ironman, people. Braggin’ rights 4 life, yo.) It was 12 weeks ago. I was in top shape — trim, fast, splotchily suntanned, energetic. Now, just three months after that, I’m working on creating a permanent Becca-shaped groove on the couch, am afraid to step on the scale, and have eaten more crap in 12 weeks than I have in 8 months. Injuries + shitty weather = PIL: Post-Ironman-Lethargy. After Ironman Canada, I signed up to do the absurdly overpriced Las Vegas Rock ‘n Roll...