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...

A couple weeks ago I was all gung-ho about making my triumphant return to working out (once you get to know me you’ll realize that I have a lot of “triumphant returns” to exercising). After my last race at the end of September, I took a couple months off to sit on my ass and get fat (I succeeded too!). I wanted to get back into serious training for the ‘09 season, so I started running, cycling, and killing my triceps in order to get all aggro about exercising again. That lasted about a week until Jason and I both got sick at the same time. I pretty much caught whatever had been...