I hopped on the bike after another long day of working from home social isolation and played instructor roulette... and won. The guy whose class I chose to join was offering up an eighties music blast with a Marty McFly theme. Thirty minutes of intense speed-work left me ready for a crash in the recliner and some classic television eps.
I renamed myself #2295 - Brad as I entered the Zoom video chat with about 400 other racers, my chat avatar a single, small static tile among a grid of little video windows. A briefing ensued. This is how a virtual ultra works.
Of my three remaining races this year, the three I am (was) registered for, two were cancelled this morning. If ... IF ... it still happens, my next registered event turns out to be the Chicago Marathon which I am moderately convinced that the universe does not want me to run. So, when Jenn texted at half ten and said that she was going to ride in in the 10am live ride on the Peloton, was I in, I said obviously and went to get my shorts on.
What do you call an exercise session where you are trapped in your house doing an online streaming exercise class that you've synchronized with two other people (who you used to run with in real life a lot) who are also trapped in their houses participating in the same online streaming class and communicating via text message in the wee hours of the morning before you all go to your home work-from-home offices to do remote working while you're all trapped in your respective houses?
That's what I did this morning.