Follow That Beard! (River Bank Run Pt. 2)

After crawling out of the man made ditch I made in the right side of the super soft mattress, waking up to both the alarm and the Grand Rapids buses that make a "meep meep" sound like the Muppet barbershop quartet covering Nirvana, I started getting myself ready for the long run ahead.  I carted all my stuff back to the car so my lady didn't have to cart my stuff too, because she was probably going to have to be out of the there before I got back.  Making a last minute reach into my bag for something, I ended up cutting my finger nice and open on my razor.  I tried to stop it as much as possible, but I needed to get a band-aid, which forced me to wake up my poor wife hours before she had to, because there are magic wormholes in ladies' purses and I would never find them myself.

With that crisis averted, I went downstairs to eat some free hotel breakfast, and watched some of the 5Kers cruise on by us.  Then I hopped up in the elevator to make a quick trip back to the room.  I decided to take my camera.  I shared the elevator with a big group of ladies who introduced themselves.  The only name I remembered was Lisa, but that's because her name was printed twice on her shirt.  That helps.

What didn't help was all the bladder nerves I was getting for this one.  I guess there's a first time for everything.  Luckily I got ahold of myself and started walking to the corral.  As soon as I walk in and take my spot between the 10 and 10:30 pacers, I hear my name, and wondered who the heck was calling me, and it was Lisa's group again.  We wished each other good luck, and before I knew it, we were off.

Making Way to the Corral

One thing I noticed immediately was the amount of support out on the roads for us.  In a way it was almost overstimulating getting that rush right off the bat, and everywhere you looked for that first stretch was a sign of inspiration.

Right off the bat, you want to set a goal.  I like to set goals based off someone I see in front of me keeping a good pace.  Some people like to pick people with inspirational shirts or a shirt of a race they like.  Some people like to choose a person with an attractive posterior.  My selection process is a little bit weirder, and this time I chose to keep up with this dude with a sweet beard.  I just figured it would get sweaty and scratchy and he would slow down.  Either that, or he would get Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer urges and "run off into the hills...or something."  Either way, I figured I could keep up with him.

That's right Keyrock, I'm coming for you!

After running away from the city, we ducked onto a trail, where I was bored to tears because everything looked the same for MILES!

Yay, this for 8 miles.  "I'm having a good time....not"

I'm pretty sure this was one of the most monotonous riverside runs I've ever had.  I know people say that this is a great course, but after all that excitement off the get-go, this lull killed me.  There's very little variation or color in the vegetation, little to no animals, and the river is so dead slow here it could be mistaken for a giant mud puddle.  Sure there were spurts of spectators rooting us on here and there along this stretch, but it was just enough to keep me awake.

When I woke up, I was at the halfway point...

I had held off using the reserves for long enough.  It was time to start moving faster.  I started to really move, and I felt like I could do so all day.  Watch out beard man, I'm coming for you...

Beard guy still at the left of frame.

I think it was about mile 9 that we started to climb a little bit, and there was actually a nice view off to the left...

...and my bearded friend (I'm a stalker)

About mile 10 or so we took a left by a DJ booth playing Beastie Boys "Fight For Your Right" and, feeling a sudden tiredness, I called upon the ghost of MCA for strength, and he obliged by carrying me really well for another 2 miles.  

Other than a small loss of strength two miles back, I was starting to pick up speed and really looking forward to finishing off strong.  Around the time we ran into the Coke bottling place I was good too, but shortly after everything stopped for me.  The 12.5-13.5 mile stretch, for some reason, was the hardest mile I've ever ran in my life.  I just lost it.  I didn't lose it just in my speed, either.  I've thought I hit walls before.  I hadn't.  This was a wall.  I wasn't willing out more than a step ahead, and I was done.  I could have easily sat right there and not moved until someone came to check on me, hopefully one of the Coke workers who randomly had a Mello Yello in his or her hands.

Those are bigger than 12oz, I don't care what the paint job says

There was no joking with myself to pull me out.  There was no picturing the wall scene in "Run Fatboy Run."  I wasn't even thinking to myself "why the hell do I do this crap?"  I was still technically running, but I probably could have walked that mile faster.  Just that stretch took me almost 12 minutes.  I wasn't even mentally tough enough to pull myself out of the rut.  I wasn't even really thinking.  If I were, I would have wondered why I was dying there when I've done the half marathon distances before.  I was used to this...what the hell?

I can't even say I know what happened.  In the end it just went away.  My strength returned, and my brain started working again, and oooh look there's a stone dragon...

Don't remember this type from "How to Train Your Dragon"

There were also Swan Boats...wait a minute...this isn't Boston Common...

"Stop lookin' at me, Swan"

After coming out from under a bridge I could start to see and feel the end of this thing...

Come toward the light

Before I knew it we were at the end...

1/2 mile to go...

I saw my girl at the side of the road, and she got a picture of me as I was running away...

I reconnected with the beard guy, and ended up finishing directly behind him (and the finishing video shows it too!).  I'm thinking about putting an ad on Craigslist to find him so we can be running buddies, and maybe I'll grow a mustache again and that would be my thing when we start the pop duo (I'm thinking Hall & Oates meets Wham!).  It would be epic. 

As soon as I stopped running the calves started to bunch up, so I got my medal quick and kept moving until I back-tracked to find my wife sitting on a bench.  I sat on the ground, stretched, and gathered myself while she took a photo of me looking disgusting...

I don't wanna move...

We went out to the car, and I changed, and we walked to the HopCat to get some food.  I didn't drink a lot while I was there, but their house DIPA called Raging Centaur was really good.  Maybe it was the run, but this was one of the most drinkable DIPAs I've ever had.  I was surprised.  Most breweries can't do one of these worth a crap and they just do them to say they have and to flash some high ABV%.  

Flashing some medal, refusing to put the beer down for the photo

The HopCat's menu made me laugh twice, and our server was really nice to us..

Laugh #1

Laugh #2

I went with the HopCat Grandwich, which was the best sloppy joe I've ever had in my life (sure, post race hunger talking, but it was good) with the jalapenos, crack fries, and melted cheese on top.  



I love you, Joe...

 I also heard very good things about the veggie wrap from across the table...


I had bites of that too, it was tasty



After the food, we were ready to head home and drove back so we could see our dog child, who we left with my dogbaby's momma's momma, and we took her out to dinner for watching our dog/Mother's Day.

Back By Popular Demand...

Let's face it kids, you all missed the fatty fat fatty, did you not?

As you all know, today is (part of) Fat Tuesdayweek.  I'm sure there's some of you out there trying to get in shape, or already superior physical specimens out there saying to yourselves today, "Oh dear lordy bee, I had me-self a half a paczki and I feel soo bay-ad."  Meanwhile in America's High Five State, a man is running the gauntlet of every bad food he can tap into for the week before the clock strikes midnight and Lent begins, and it's all over for him (and running season seems to truly begin). 

Sure, I've had a good start to the year, but Fat Tuesday is a tradition, so I'm sticking with it.  A few years ago, I started stretching it out to a week Tuesday-Tuesday, because trying to fit all my favorite horrible things into one day is impossible and digestively aggravating.  Let's see what's on the board...

February 14th/7th Annual FVD Holiday Extravaganza
This requires a back-story.  I'll try to be brief.  In 2006, I got tired of being depressed on Valentine's Day.  The 14th is dad's death anniversary (2003), so if I wasn't alone on that day, usually my sh*tty attitude would make it so, and after already doing it twice, I wasn't about to just let that cloud hang over my head for life.  I called up a couple single bros and left them voicemails basically saying, screw (we used a more vulgar word) the holiday for making single people feel like a group of society's defectives and making us cower in our homes, let's go out to the bar.  We went out to the loft, we owned that bar for that night (much like we owned any bar in those days), and thus began FVD and this idea that we were the "undisputed 'Kings' of this town." 

Now that we're old, and that title has passed, two things from that night still remain:  the pledge that we'd celebrate together on that day, single or not, and not bail on our friends and when we say goodbye, we count the number of us out on our hands in unison and throw those fingers up on the top of our heads as a crown.  I think initially it started off as a cynical anti-love thing for a few of us, but it's grown into more of an inclusive thing that everyone looks forward to.  My wife secretly still gets her flowers, and dinner, and she gets drinks of top of it.  We usually end up doing more with our friends that night than we'd ever do by ourselves.  I think it's become a really nice tradition, and, no, we're not out trying to ruin anything for you mushy couples...it's never been about that, even though you may look over and realize we're having more fun than you.  Also we've made matching T-Shirts since the 2nd one, which usually turns out to be either awesome or a total nightmare.  This is because we never plan a thing ahead ever, and get the whole thing, including the design, together after work.

2012 Logo

My Wife's FVD card to me. It pretty much ruled my universe, much like her.

Anyway, chalk me up for a huge burger at Ashley's in Ann Arbor (first time we took this show outside of Flint or Detroit).  They have half the world on tap so I had a St. Feuilliien/Green Flash Biere De L'Amitie , two Founders All Day IPAs, and a Primordial Porter.  Then I finished up my shoestring fries with my wasabi sauce.

Feb. 15th
Hello buy one get one BK Chicken sandwich...two original please...

Feb 16th
I forgot and I ate healthy...stupid, stupid, stupid

Feb 17th
BK chicken again, originals again.  Ate both slow enough to realize they now taste a little like ground cardboard.  Then some night time rice krispie treats made by yours truly.

Feb 18th
It was my last pre-Lent chance to test this Five Guys place.  I still have never been to one and there was one within striking distance of the beer run my wife and I were on.  So we stopped and each of us got a burger and split a fry and a diet Barq's.  Cajun fries are good, but nothing you can't make at home, and the burgers are good, but it's about the same as a Halo Burger only thinner and taller.

Cajun

After the Five Guys, we had our "Super Boris Funtime Party," watching Russian-themed movies while trying to purge the excess wedding vodka.  We managed to kill a bottle of Smirnoff, and drank a few Russian/Ukrainian beers that we realized had been expired for over a year but bought anyway.  The beer store must not move Russian beer too often.  I also realized I may have missed my calling as a bartender.

Small Carnage

Feb 19th
Sunday was Lucky's with my wife, brother, and sister for lunch.  So it was chicken parmesan, side of alfredo, and a lot of Dr. Peppers.

Then I picked up some Kroger Jammed Cookie Dough ice cream later that night.
Feb 20th
I finally had my first Taco Bell of the year.  24 total layers of burrito (two 7's, two beefy 5's)

Then, for dinner, it was time to raise the red roof...

My wife, her dad, and I destroyed a large onion and green pepper pizza, 22 wings, and a 5 piece breadstick.  Oh, and then a few hours later I knocked out a package of pizza rolls.

Fat Tuesday
After yesterday I couldn't even think about eating until maybe noon.  I've since made up some ground, and here comes the grand finale:

*Finalized Results*
2 Bavarian Creme Paczkis
1 16" Big John Steak and Cheese
A 5 mile run with Jason........wait, what the hell?  Didn't you just eat a lot of food?  Yes, but I am not human.
2 McDoubles
10 piece Chicken Nugget
2 pints of ale
48 oz of Coca-Cola
1 giant size Mallo Cup 4 pack
1 Raspberry Paczki
2 Tater Tots (yep just two)
A handful of gumballs
1 12 oz bottle Founders Dirty Bastard

...and that's it for the time being.  I will update if there's any more, but I feel semi-pregnant and there is no room at the food inn, so I figured I'd write you all and give you the food collapse that you all so missed.  Especially since this year I'm going to get very serious and snap back into gear tomorrow, when I magically turn into a very healthy, helpful, and contributing individual.  I also tend to enter what the Brewers called "Beast Mode" last year about this time.  First up on the hit list is probably the Corktown Race.  I will see you all on the other side.

Oh, and Friday we're going to bring home our Corgi puppy.  His name is "Renfield."

Renfield two weeks ago

Pictureless Chicago

Believe it or not, I managed to go to Chicago and come home without taking a single picture.  I have to be the worst human being in the world when it comes to documenting things with photos.  Here are some things that you will not see...

12/30/11
-Jeff, Samir, my wife and I drinking lots of beers with pizza and cheesy tots at Haymarket Pub
-All of us again at Goose Island (despite it now being owned by the enemy).
-The four rounds of Guinness Jeff and I did at Yak-Zies while leaving my wife back at the hotel, and us being slowly crowded by idiots trying to take over our table.  They made us stay longer.


12/31/11
-My obscenely large burger that I ate at Bennigan's with sweet potato fries
-My wife learning that Navy Pier is lame (like I said), but us being even lamer and sitting on the USS Chicago anchor like horrible tourists anyway (though there may be an iPhone photoshop of it happening eventually).
-My Chicago/Local H friends on New Year's Eve at the Bottom Lounge avoiding the opening band
-Local H coming out in spacesuits, and them covering Rush with the 2112 logo flashing behind them.
-Me, my wife, and several other friends (and strangers) doing shots directly from a Buffalo Trace bottle (perhaps another reason I could be sick, but alcohol kills everything right?)
-Dan's fiance throwing elbows at guys twice her size coming at her out of a mini mosh pit
-My wife and I having a New Year's kiss
-My friend "Jeffing" (as he calls it) several photos
-One of the few nights of the year my wife and I have a PBR tall boy in hand


1/1/12
-Me all decked out to run a 5K in Chicago on New Year's Day
-The other 1,500 or so people
-Lake Michigan in the morning from Lincoln Park just south of the zoo
-My shirt and bib from my first out-of-state race ever (still possible)
-The friend I made on the way back on the bus
-The Hackneys onion loaf that we all split
-Old St. Patrick's Church (inside and out)
-Pizza at Gino's with my good Local H friends.
-The "pointy kitty" at the Red Line stop on the way back to the hotel
-Our hotel


1/2/12
-The snowstorm on the way back
-Me with Big Boy again when we stopped to eat
-Me doing a powerslide in my driveway on snow and ice upon arriving back home and hearing that Georgia missed the first FG in the 1st OT of the Outback Bowl.

Wait, no, I have evidence of the last two...

MSU won, so it's bowl tradition now

Powerslide Evidence

Christmas Bonanza

I use the term Bonanza because not only did I make out like a bandit, I also ate like a horse.  We'll get to that, though.  First, I'd like to share a few holiday pointers that help me get through the season without losing my head, because there's a lot of you that turn into monsters out there.  That's just not within the spirit of the season.  Yelling at your elderly mother because she can't make speedy Christmas decisions about what, or if, she's going to buy something in front of your teenage daughter just doesn't send the best holiday message (or teach your daughter to respect you).  Trust me, if my mom makes it to that age, I'll just be happy she's around and I'll wheel her all over the Piggly Wigglies of the world if she wants me to (though we still may still argue politics along the drive).  Anyway, I know it's too late for Christmas, but these seasonal tips can be adjusted for year round purposes:

#1 - No matter how good or how bad you are at Christmas presents, remember that the people that love you will still love you the same either way.

#2 - Don't think of people out in the world during the holidays as rational beings capable of thought.  Think of them as nothing more than objects in space that you have to navigate around to your objectives.  Let's face it, people during the holidays don't have their minds about them, and you can't assume they can think.  I just think of myself as Han Solo in that asteroid field, and expect things to get in the way.  Navigate around and avoid any damage to the Millennium Falcon and be on your way.  This works for the driving, the store, or wherever.

#3 - Reflection not perfection.  Remember the big picture during the holidays and life in general.  It's great you want to create a perfect Christmas for your family.  There's hardly a person alive that doesn't, but the most important thing at Christmas is having a calm, relaxing day with your family and being thankful for the blessings you have been given (even in  especially in the rough years).

I had to reboot this calming holiday program this year, because I just could not think of any gift ideas for anyone.  Normally, I am a cool as a moose in Manitoba, but it got to be two weeks before Christmas, I had nothing for anyone, and I was sick.  I was just blanking.  It was awful.  Instead of panicking, moping (too much), or lashing out, I just decided to follow my wife to a few of her shopping locations and hope things strike me as I go.  That worked out just fine, and she's a wonderful collaborator when it comes to gifts for my mom and sister.  I've haven't bought so many gifts without aid of the internet in ages.

With that out of the way, we had our friends mini-Christmas on the 23rd, which usually results in a good mess of present unwrapping carnage, loads of dirty plates and glasses, and bottles of beer strung all over the house.  It was a little tamer this year thanks to the two growlers in the fridge (less bottles) and some of the usual friends missing because of moving and/or spending the holidays out of state.  I also planned on moving the party to the Electric Six show at Saint Andrews, but I didn't get any takers, which was too bad, because they covered this:

Christmas Eve, both of our families were coming over, and other than the Christmas cookies made the night before, it was up to me.  My wife had to work, and she wasn't going to get home until 5:30.  We told everyone about 6ish, but still expected her dad earlier (he's always early), and maybe even as early as the start of the Lions game.  I figured I should be done cleaning about 3ish, then start work on food while taking in consideration prep and/or cooking times.  With one of the family members now knowing they have a gluten allergy, I had to take that into consideration as well, and make a few substitutions.  Long story short: the house got really clean, my brother and father-in-law swear I made the best meatballs they've ever had, cheeseballs are very easy to make and this is a bad thing for me to know, and gluten-free Rice Krispie treats taste the same as regular ones.  I'm a big hit everywhere I go, even when I stay home, and my wife is really lucky I can handle myself around the house.  I know a lot of clueless men and women out there that can't pull this off.  The success goes double considering I did the bulk of my genius while the Detroit Lions were knocking the snot out of the Chargers in the first half.

Lions?  Playoffs?!  Merry Christmas to me!

Needless to say, we had a wonderful Christmas Eve with the families.  We also went to her grandparents for the traditional spaghetti dinner on Christmas Day and over to her brother's place for some grilling on Monday.  There's nothing better than grilled food in the winter.  As far as the loot, let's just say I received several gifts that will complete my goals of becoming an old man (including a very nice cardigan and a long topcoat).  I also received two that will continue my determination/dysfunction battle in the running universe.

Brewing Kit!!!!

Hydration Pack

You Better? You Bet

When I'm sick, I tend to always backtrack and start thinking what I did to get myself sick or at least start looking back trying to remember anyone in my vicinity that was visibly ill so I can quietly hold them accountable.  Then, of course, there's always blaming the weather changes and just the season, or whatever.  The thing is, I'm not a December illness person.  In fact my last recollection of being that sick near the holidays was when I was 6 and had chicken pox.  So what went wrong?

Well, as far as blaming people around me, there are plenty of options.  It seems like, taking a non-scientifically random sample, about every 10th person had the same throat/sinus/achey thing going on.  I could also blame myself for under-dressing when going out in the cold, and keeping on wet running clothes way too long (like the one day I wore ratty clothes running and immediately went out to the cold garage to change my oil without a coat).  Even easier, I could blame me for the recent diet (or lack thereof).  C'mon, you've seen what I've been putting up here.  It's an artery clogging nightmare.  If there were a human equivalent to the Castrol GTX commercial where they bomb a car with oil sludge, I'd be looking to the sky and trying to avoid a torrential downpour of butter and buckets of cheese, or maybe that marshmallow goo from when they wax Mr. Stay Puft in Ghostbusters.

Ever wonder if it was delicious?

Anyway, I didn't come up with any real cause, but I did have to think to myself, "If I'm avoiding crap food when I'm sick, why don't I do this when I'm well?"  So I'm going to try to get nearer to the wagon if not actually on it again (at least most days).  I had a really good winter last year, and I need another one to stay on track as I try to ramp up even a bit more next year.

One problem with that is keeping focus right now.  With the Witchy Wolf cancelled, there's not really even a long race on the horizon until April or so.  That throws a small wrench into all my high and mighty 2012 goals.  Even if I haven't said what they are yet, there are already two races that I had the rug pulled out from under me on.  The first I've already mentioned, and the second was Bayshore, where I really wanted to do the half marathon, and it sold out in like 4 hours.  I tried several times in the morning to load the website (when work slowed down enough) on December 1st to no avail.  When I was finally able to load it after lunch, all the slots were gone.  I thought for a second about going for the full, but I really wouldn't want to train for my first marathon and have it be a down and back course.  That just seems like something a lot more mentally challenging than a loop or something like that.  I just thought back to the Martian being my first half, and being annoyed/discouraged that a good chunk of that was down and back.  I'm not really interesting in setting up that same frustration for my first full.  Besides, it's pretty early for me to lock into something I haven't, as of yet, even come close to being able to do.

I need some early year races to look forward to that aren't ones I could run (at least now) with a beer helmet on after competing in a Nathan's hot dog eating contest.  Speaking of, even if I rededicate to turning over yet another new leaf (progress is still progress kids...I'm not shooting for anything more than improvement), I mean to get myself into Rockford's Hot Dog Hall of Fame in this upcoming new year.

It will be mine, oh yes

However, I continue to decline my friend's insistence that I could conquer Mt. Nacheesemo if I wanted to.  I don't believe I could.  I can't eat like that anymore*.  Anyway, ladies, this is why we live shorter lives than you.  Those fewer years aren't anything but the accumulation of minutes of life lost due to dares that our other male friends have forced upon us over the years.  Each one takes its toll on the body, and each group of men has a different dare protocol, but in the end these practices are all a danger to male public health.  Be on the lookout for the warning signs that your significant other is a dare taker.

1)  He's constantly insisting he can do things to a group of men that insist otherwise

2)  One of his catchphrases is "Challenge Accepted"

3)  There are overwhelming amounts of discarded milk jugs, cinnamon spice containers, and Saltine boxes in the "man cave"

Anyway, outside of all that, I'm well again.  I went out for a late night run today with the Tron shirt and a new little $5 toy (a Nathan LED Safety Strobe).  Now, I've looked at a few of the reviews for these and they're all mixed, but at the end of the day, it's $5.  I didn't have any issues with it coming unclipped like some of Amazon reviews complained about, and I had the thing on my wristband, so it was jerked around pretty decent.  Honestly, the most important thing for me was that the designer put enough thought into it for one of the settings to have the lights blink sequentially one way and back the other.  Visibility and battery life be damned, I say, I'd rather buy a light that blinks like the front of Kitt from Knight Rider.  That's the important thing.  





"A shadowy flight into the dangerous world of a blogger who does not exist"



* - Unless I get into that unexplained zone of insatiable hunger that exists with the right amount of "the sauce," and there are a lot of breweries/brewpubs down there.  Even then, I'm still probably looking at pretty long odds.  

Climbing Up On Solsbrooksie Hill...

Who's idea was this anyway?  I blame the Crim foundation for packaging this race in with the Crim race and tempting us to sign up for both.  When it's spring/summer and you're in your tip-top shape of the season, it's no big deal to say "Yeah, another half-marathon after the Crim and just after your honeymoon...no big whoop."  I'm no longer in that zone.

Jason and I got an early jump as to not repeat the rush of the Martian Race.  We left way too early.  I also didn't prepare for the 40 degree temperatures, and unless I wanted to run in a large green corduroy GAP coat, I thought I was just going to have to let my teeth chatter for 2 hours before the race.  Luckily the Brooksie Way's shirt was a nice red long sleeve shirt, so that just got added under the running ensemble, which was just a "Little Lebowski Urban Acheiver" t-shirt.  I guess I just expected it to warm up like every other day had.

Red LS "Tech" Shirt

Even with that, Jason and I were still finding excuses to duck into the heated tents, and spent a lot of time in the big tent where my wedding's DJ was playing lots of classic rock tunes.  We eventually went to the outside world 10 minutes before the race and lined up just behind the 10 min pace, and then we waited through about 40 minutes of announcements about the race being delayed before the race actually started.  There goes my body temperature...

Of course that never lasts long.  Even with it probably being 45 degrees now, it only takes about 1/2 of a mile before I'm actually accumulating a few sweat droplets on my brow, and by 3/4 they're starting to flow toward gravity's pull.  The first sweat of the race has begun, and now it's time for the traditional look-around.  Who's looking at me sweating already and giving me the traditional pity look like "oh honey, you're not gonna make it."  Uh huh...there it is.  It never fails.  Do not be alarmed, ma'am, this is a normal occurence.  I will  might be fine.

For the first 4 miles, Jason and I went side-by-side at a seemingly slowish pace.  The way we've slacked off, the goal of this one was to "just finish."  That goal didn't get much loftier as we were getting caught by Riley the drubbler, who is awesome, granted, but is not exactly moving at warp speed because he's also dribbling 3 basketballs.  So when a man at least twice your age can dribble 3 balls and catch you, it gets in your head a bit.

I wasn't making it much further in the state I was in, though, so the second we hit a line of trees, I warned Jason I needed a leak break and told him to keep on going so he wouldn't think I got hurt and stop.  Then as soon as I saw an opening, I was off the trail.  I wasn't going to make the 13 miles without one, so I decided to get it out of the way and lighten the load, rather than feel like I had a very large surgically implanted Capri Sun pouch in my lower abdomen for 5-6 more miles and then have to go anyway.  That's a first, ladies and gents.  Never in my history have I had a mid-race break to go shoot the pink pistol at nature's firing range.

With that out of the way, I did a nice hard push to catch back up to Jason, which took about 2 miles or so.  I still suspect he held back for me to get back up there, because I shouldn't have caught up that quick given how long my break had been.  Even with my break, we still had a nice 1:05:00 split going at the halfway point in the park.  We had a short conversation about picking it up to try to get under 2:00:00, but my knowledge of what was left to come pretty much quashed that train of thought.

That was probably wise in the end, too.  The whole rest of that race is like this...

Rochester Hills, Brooksie miles 7-13 (visual approximation)

I don't think there was another 1/2 mile of straight land after mile 8.  It was all up and down, with very little down.  Every time you get to the top of a hill, there's another one right in sight.  There were several times where I said to myself "I swear, if I get up above this one, and there's another hill, I'm just going to quit."  Every time, there was another hill, but there was no quit.  Back when we first started running, Jason and I would lie to each other about a hill being the "last hill" just to keep the other going.  He did it to me on the trails.  I did it to him on the Crim course at the Boo-Radleys when we did our first run on that.  Of course, when you say it aloud and other racers believe you, they don't seem to be as amused.  The hills never really actually ended.  Sorry we're liars, but we only really meant to lie to ourselves.  You should stop eavesdropping.  Besides, the place is called Rochester Hills for a reason, did you really think there would only be 3 hills?

"Then it's not just a clever name..."

Even with a few of the hills in there being murder and almost making us want to stop, we talked after the race about this point being somewhat of a morale builder.  We've totally blown our training, but we were over halfway through and, even with all the hills, we knew at this point we were still going to make it.  We knew it so much that Jason and I allowed ourselves to be talked into a beer along the way about mile 8 or 9.  After that beer, we were a little less convinced, but we shook that off and, all-in-all, I was probably wrongly convinced that it helped me.  Another new thing to put on the list...first "during beer" ever.  Whatever, we were just having fun at this point.  Imagine that, having fun at a half-marathon while complaining how little you've done and how out of shape you are.  Who would have ever thought we'd see that day?

A couple 10 or 20 (5?) or so more "last hills" and we were done.  We both made a nice charge at the end to make sure that the front-runner speedwalker guy wasn't going to beat us (those hills really gave him the advantage at the end) and finished about a second apart.  We didn't feel like hanging out long, and I had places to be (church, family, friend's going away party).  So we left almost immediately after, got on the shuttle bus back to the parking lot (a real nice touch by the race to save our legs, I might add), and drove home. 

First time running over 10 miles and not sweating through ALL of my shirt

It was a great race, and it was a challenging one as well.  I'm glad it's over, though.  There won't be anything over a 10K from here out, and I'm good with that.  I'm also good with the 2:14:24, which, for the record is better than the goal I set to beat the DxA2 time, which I honestly in my heart-of-hearts knew I couldn't do, but still did.  Not as good as the Panda time, but that was in the dark on a totally flat course, and I wasn't expecting a miracle. 

Medal # uhh... who knows?

I skipped the Big House Big Heart to go to an orchard and pick pumpkins and have cider and doughnuts, but I'm sure I'll do the tailgate challenge this weekend.  I'm skipping Turkey Trot Detroit out of spite for them screwing my shirt situation last year, and will probably stay in Flint for the local one.  Other than that, don't expect too much from me.  I still have two goals on the board, including finishing a double loop on the Crim course and running a race out of state.  I doubt either will happen, but I will let you know if I manage to get a clean slate.  It could happen...

Awful, Just Awful. I mean, P-A-T-H-E-T-I-C

By Thursday last week, a lot of things were really starting to get to me.  Eventually this ballooned into me having no choice but to go out for one of my "frustration runs."  Now, when I'm running distraught, my feet are almost stomping through the pavement, my body is flailing all over the place, and my form is definitely not the same as when I'm in my usual calm running state.  The point of these are usually just to get it out, and get it out quick.  I normally burn bright, going exceptionally fast, and then just completely fall apart not long into it.  The usual amount of time it takes is probably somewhere between 15-30 minutes.  Most of the time it will all work out to where I die off a good distance from home and have to walk back and think through things after I've burned off all my gas.  It's pretty therapeutic, and gets my wits together, but in no way is it ever to be considered a "good run."

Thursday night, I went out for one, telling my fiance that I would be back when I:  A)  Ran out my frustration. B) Ran out of light C) Ran out of charge on my mp3 player D)  Ran out of energy, whichever came first.  Eventually it was a mix of the dark and the happy running blueberry man on the front of my Blueberry Festival Race shirt rubbing my chest raw that did me in.  I checked my watch and I had been out for over an hour, bad form and all, still not feeling like I purged everything, still not tired, and in complete disbelief that I had gone that long in that state, but more astounded that I hadn't looked at my watch to realize it.  There wasn't any "in zone" running either.  I felt every pounding step vibrate from my foot to my head, and was never really in any state of peace where things around me melted away.

Friday night was a complete emotional drinking blow-up that I haven't had in years.  I'm still completely embarrassed about it, and how I just kind of let it happen.  If you're pounding IPAs and high gravity beers (I know at the Torch it was Shorts Huma Lupa Licious but what I drank at the Red Baron I don't remember), then have a little bit of whiskey and tequila, these things are bound to happen.  Needless to say, there was no happy ending to it, and it involved a lot of sickness and my poor girl driving me home (and a little bit of both combined).  It really wasn't until after that I realized what I was doing, and I felt like a stupid early 20-something again.  It didn't help that I actually had things to do Saturday.

Saturday morning I was in no shape to drive across the state to Holland for the Tulip Festival.  I had planned to run the Tulip race, but obviously that wasn't happening.  It was Jen's birthday and this was her plan, and I had promised to drive the 4 of us (Jen, Ken, Jessi, and I) there, so I force myself into it.  The drive seemed to be over before I knew it because I was focused on how bad I felt, but a little Qdoba and a little bit of Coke on the trip there brought be back to the land of the living. 

It was a good visit, but I still feel like a piece of crap for making us delay going there by a few hours (trying to gather myself in the morning) and missing the race (which had a really cool burgundy shirt of running tulips).  We still did everything else we planned:  seeing downtown, the big windmill island, the dutch villiage, and New Holland Brewery.  Yes, we still went to New Holland Brewing, even though I hardly wanted to look at another beer.  Good thing I've had most of their beers, the other styles were not that appealing, and I didn't have much to try.  I just wanted to try the Imperial Hatter (Imperial IPA) and the Red Tulip (Red Ale), so I got a 10oz of the Imperial, and planned on getting a growler of the other on the way out for a souvenir.

The food there was quite good, but the service was lousy (and I'm never one to complain).  After requesting my Red Tulip growler, about 20 minutes went by with nobody helping us and our waitress came back telling me they won't do a growler of the Red Tulip.  Apparently, for some odd reason that was the only one I couldn't have.  The Imperial wasn't good enough to get a growler, but I tried to figure out something else I could get.  I like The Poet, but a growler of Oatmeal Stout heading into summer won't ever get finished.  I'm not a fan of Golden Cap or Sundog.  I didn't want a full one of the regular Hatter, because I was already full up of IPAs at home, since Jeff was in Friday.  So I went through all the possible options and just told them to forget it. 

I still don't know the reason they couldn't do the Tulip.  All they told me was that it was a special brew that they couldn't do growlers for.  I guess I don't get what the problem was.  If it's a cost thing, price it accordingly.  I'm pretty sure there was no way it was impossible to fill a jug with it one way or another, so that can't be it.  I just don't know.  I've never had a brewery refuse to make a sale, especially when I only had 1 beer.  It kind of seems bad for business.  They did offer to let me sample the Tulip because I said I wanted to try it, but at that point, I was kind of just done with them.  So I tipped the waitress the standard 18% (which was probably more than she deserved) and we left.  I'm not really one to shun Michgan businesses, but I think they may be on my naughty list now.  It was just disappointed, because I've always wanted to go there, because I love their Mad Hatter so much.  I realized there, though, that I've had a lot of their wares and either didn't like them or they weren't my style.  A few even sounded like bad ideas, and I wasn't exactly adventurous considering the night before.  Honestly, is a Red Ale all that special, anyway?  Probably not.

We didn't get out of there until maybe 9:45, and we had been seated since 8:00, so it even made us late for the return back, and this time I noticed how long the drive was.  It probably didn't help that my back power window crapped out on us and it was half down all the way home, which was cold, loud, and annoying.  Just one more thing to fix, I guess. 

Anyway, Jason and I actually ran last night for about an hour, and it felt pretty decent.  It's getting really warm out so we need to build up everything again.  It's a lot easier with cool air on you, instead of hot sun, and hot pavement that seeps through your soles into your feet.  I'm really starting fess up to the idea that the Half-Marathon broke me a little bit too, and a lot of what's happened lately is a subconcious sabotage so I don't ever have to run that far (or further) again.  So, new goal...when they open up the Crim course this summer for all the registered participants to do their practice run, I think I'm going to try to be one of the people that go through it twice and do the 20, running, walking, or crawling.  Big words, I know, but everybody needs a goal.

Amidst all this trouble, I still lost a few pounds (again).  Rewarded for bad behavior (again), ugh.  I don't feel like I'm winning, though.  Sorry Charlie (Sheen).  If I don't shape up, I'm going to pull my own runner card.  It's bad enough that most of the runners I follow on here are superstars compared to me, but when I'm not even keeping up to my standards, I really feel like a slacker.

The Backslide

Jerry in his self-named sitcom Seinfeld once said, "Never bet against the backslide."  While he was speaking to something quite a bit different than where I'm going with this, I think the idea that quitting anything you've been doing for long enough really is "like knocking over a Coke machine," and you do have to "rock it back and forth a few times" before it goes over.

I had just set a new 5K PR (again) up in Midland, while being sick, just a few weeks after finishing my first Half.  Not only that, the Tuesday after, I ran my home course that Jason and I always run in 29:34.  Getting this run under 30:00 was a goal we set for ourselves last summer when we were running it in 32-34s consistently.  Then, again on Thursday Jason and I both ran it under 30 again to seal the idea that it was a one-time fluke. 

Too much success can go to your head.  After Thursday, there was still that left-over Easter candy sitting around.  I had been nursing it slowly, and keeping within my goal calorie range, but screw it right?  I took down the rest of the basket.  Cadbury eggs...eliminated.  Reese's eggs...gone, sandwich baggies of squirrel nut zippers and mary janes...emptied, mallo cups....conquered (the spoils of which were the play money, cha-ching!).  So, yeah, I guess that tells you that I pretty much went on a tear, and also that when the older generation is gone, I, myself, may keep all the "old people candy" makers afloat.

With Lent being over there's also the ability to get back to eating fast food and pizza, swilling pop and beer, and not only negating runs in the caloric sense, but stopping them before they even happen by feeling like crap.  Let's do an honest run-down of shame, why don't we? 

Fast Food - I first broke the levee with the 16" Big John Steak and Onion on Tuesday, which I maybe ran off 1/3rd of on the same day. No other instances to report.

Pizza - I wanted to wait and get an actual good pizza and go out to eat, but I had a nice little frustration day Wednesday. Jessi wasn't feeling well and didn't want to go out so we caved to the call of Little Caesar's Hot-or-Ready Pizza special. We ended up buying two mediums, and two breads, and it seeped into two days of eating like crap. Really bad, I know.

Pop - On Easter I managed to find out about Mello Yello Zero coming out and one of my friends managed to find some. Unfortunately this is the same friend that, like me, has an obsession with MY, so she cleaned the place out of it completely. I vowed not to crack a soda until I crossed its path, and did so at a Speedway near work last Monday. They only had 4 bottles, but I took all of them. I've since finished those, had the Mexi-Coke that came with my Easter basket, and during the Pizza incident split a 2-liter of Wild Cherry Pepsi with Jessi (and by split I mean I probably drank 3/4 of it).  I had two Vernors at a wedding on Saturday.  Also, this Monday night I couldn't shake a headache and I fed it a Coke, which worked. Another piece of honest shame written in the book of truth.

Beer - The shocking thing is I didn't pop one open Easter Sunday as soon as possible. Out of the "Four Horsemen," this is my favorite and the one you'd usually see riding out first to end me. I didn't even feel like having beer that weekend, the next weekend, all during the week. It just didn't even seem appealing, and I was saying that I still think I will stick to the "weekend only" rule. I did actually pick up a six pack of Short's "The Curl" to save for when I did feel like it.

Monday night after the headache dissipated, a new one arose. My computer was giving me trouble, and blogger wasn't saving as I wrote my Half-Marathon entry, and I lost half of it. It was late, I was frustrated, and I wanted to finish the stupid thing that night before I went to bed, so I went Curling and had 4 of the 6 beers just finishing that thing up. Sadly, it was probably still better the way I had it the first time, because I was definitely less interested in the rewrite. It happens.

So there it is, the whole story of my success-driven complacency...wait what?  There's more?  Oh, shitake mushrooms (hey, I run a clean show now, people). 

Last Saturday I was planning on running another race.  This time there were 3 I was split between.  I could have went down to Detroit for yet another Belle Isle one, the "Spring Into Nature" race I missed last year.  I could have stayed local and do the Paul Webster Memorial run that  benefits both UM-Flint Students and local children with life threatening illnesses.  Then again, I could have went to Owosso really early and did the Humane Society run.  I even could have visited my step-grandma, who I haven't seen in almost a year, which is too long.  Whatever I did, I knew I should be back for a wedding at 6, but it wasn't a requirement (at least that's what she told me).

The alarm went off at 6, and I wasn't ready to get up, so scratch the Owosso plans.  I went back to sleep and I wake up again at 8 thinking to myself, "Well, I have an hour to get to Richfield park for the Webster Run and I still have time to get ready and get down to Belle Isle, what am I going to do?"  "I think I'm going back to sleep."  I didn't even get up until 10:30, and to compound things, Jessi, her dad, and I went out to Starlite for omelettes and blueberry pancakes.  Probably a nice 1500 calorie swing there. 

Once you start down this path, it kind of affects everything else.  There were a few things I wanted to accomplish Saturday, since I was going to be home anyway, and a lot of it just never happened.  Half the reason I forced myself to that wedding was because I failed so much at the rest of the day.  That only made me worse, because a shirt I haven't worn in 5 years suddenly fit.  Sunday, I meant to catch up on the run I skipped Saturday, but I just ate TV dinners (yes, plurar, as in like 3) instead and watched season 3 of The Wire.  It was just a total system failure of whopping proportions.  Of course with all the big news about Bin Laden Sunday night, it swept the whole day under the rug in my mind.

Since Sunday, though, I've started to turn things back around.  I ran Monday, and did the home route at a 30:32, which wasn't as bad as I hoped.  I needed to see a 32+ time after all this slacking off.  I shouldn't just be able to be almost completely counterproductive for nearly a week, not run for four days, and only gain a minute on a run where I'm not even pushing and my joints feel like rusted hinges.  I felt like I was almost being rewarded for my bad behavior by getting my 3rd or 4th best time on my own home route (that I've ran and timed for over a year now).  Yesterday, I put in another run, so at least I'm back to even on the exercise portion.  The Monday taco night, with the Tuesday taco left-overs put me in a deeper hole in the diet department, though.  Starting today I have to make up for all of this during the rest of the week, and over the weekend, though the other half of me is still screaming at me "Why?  The scale doesn't lie, bud, and you haven't gained a pound, enjoy yourself!"  Cue "The Munchies" ABC PSA from the 80s...