Talkin' Turkey, the Missing 5F4, etc.

Turkey Trot

The 55th Annual Flint Mott Park Turkey Trot was easily the cheapest race I've ever ran.  Registration was $5 and you got a long-sleeved shirt and a generic China medal.  There was a clock, but no chips, so there's no record of how fast slow Jason and I were going.  Also, I will not be telling you.

Mott Park used to be a public golf course, but on the day of the race I think the grass was thick enough that you could have given the entire park a comb-over.  Add in that it was kind of wet, a little cold, and the moles (or possibly Dig Dug) have done enough work to make every piece of ground collapse under my feet, and  I had a pretty decent bit of things to slow me down.

Chunky Green Shag

The run was 3 loops around the park, with the front part going up a hill somewhat diagonally (with your right foot more uphill than your left), and then straight down it on some slick ground.  I didn't see anyone wipe out, but I was almost a casualty on 2 of the 3 loops because I was trying to use the hill's momentum.

Food
Come now, you can't say that you believed for one second that I was going to hold off Thanksgiving week.  Starting of what was my 5F4 cycle on Saturday, I had enough pancakes in the morning to be my daily intake of calories.  Sunday was the usual family O.G. punt the calorie day away by lunch.  Monday I pretty much ate nothing but Tyson chicken nuggets.  Tuesday I tried to be good and grabbed a salad at lunch, but after dragging my wife to a speech/book signing that night she was starving and talked me into getting her and I a onion/green pepper deep dish pizza.  Wednesday and Thursday deserve their own paragraphs.

We had our annual friends get together the day before Thanksgiving again this year.  As usual, it was basically a "Meat-A-Palooza" with Ken making lasagna, Jen making beef enchilladas, me making some New England sweet and sour meatballs, and Katie making potatoes chock-a-block full of bacon.  Mike rounded things out by bringing us all some Magners Hard Cider and some Bell's Christmas Ale as his usual drink surprise installment.  After all that, we went to see the Muppet Movie, which gave me a personal record for longest period while smiling/laughing for the year.  I just don't see how it could have been much better.  Anyone that didn't like it just has to be dead inside, because even a rashly cynical bastard like me melted into a mystified 5-year-old watching that movie.

Thankgiving was the usual food orgy.  I started off actually trying to be reasonable.  We went to my wife's grandparents' and I kept a fairly healthy first plate, but the whole thing collapsed under her grandma's pecan pie.  After that it's not like I took huge clumps of things and devoured them, but I nibbled my way to hell with the desserts, all of which were fantastic.  After spending a few hours there and watching the Lions lose, we went to my brother's and ate more turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, squash, green been casserole, and all the usual suspects.  I made some pumpkin cheesecakes, and I had some of that as well as Mom's pumpkin pie.  The pumpkin cheesecake recipe for 2 pies is a liar, though.  It says it makes 2, but I somehow ended up with enough for 4 (freezing the others for later...maybe). 

Obviously Friday was left-over day, and there still exists some left-overs, despite the fact I've made my best attempts at eating them.  I've even gone to the extremes of sharing them with the cat and turtle.

Happy Thanksgiving, Newman!

New Shoes

I have a slight confession to make.  Despite the fact the Brooks Ghost 3 completely tore the crap out of my heel a few times, with a TON of tape and even more stubborness I've actually still been using them.  Now, I didn't really use them for many actual races or any runs of big distance, but for day-to-day shorter runs I've strapped them on every single time.  I just decided that I was going to get my money's worth no matter what, and I did.  The tread at the balls of my feet are completely worn to nothing. 

Other than the bad heel rubbing, which, after tearing the thing apart I've found out it was just a badly placed seam, they were very functional until the last month or so where I noticed they were pretty much dead.  So my outright hatred of the shoes and the brand has been replaced with a "maybe I'll try them again" but I'll "proceed with caution" next time attitude.  Although it would be hard to tell "Hey, this shoe is going to eat my foot up after 10+ miles" in a store.

The other thing I've found is that, even on pavement, I'd rather just wear my trail running shoes.  They just seem to get me more traction and help me pull and push myself around easier.  I've been saving my trail shoes for off-road, but I keep wishing I could use them anyway, and I've finally given in.  Most of the shoes I see for running are too flat, fragile in design, or soft on the bottom (or have an awful zig-zag thing going on), and they wear out too fast for me.  Since it's winter and extra traction is a must anyway, I ended up buying a pair of Adidas Marathon 10 Trail Running shoes.  They were a little slippery today on the paved trail as I braved the snow and black ice.  They'll get better next time out, though.  Other than that, I love the feel of them, and my legs felt like they could have went all day.

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...

Setting the Scene

It's been no secret to my wife, my friends, my family, or anyone who has watched me only post once since the Crim that I've been in a horrible funk here.  The Crim is my Superbowl, so if I have success there it's simply natural for the runner in me to, in effect, be "going to Disney World."

Also, don't forget, despite the Brooksie being this past weekend, it was the least of my concerns.  I had better things to think about.

Friday

I was occupied with the annual Red Wings/Maple Leafs game with my friends.  Last year I rooted hard for the Wings and made good fun of the Leafs (and Dayle our Canadian pal) the whole game, so it's only natural, given I don't really care about either team, to show up decked out in a Leafs jersey with a stocking cap on and a cup of Tim Hortons.  Dayle's reaction upon first seing me was priceless, and being an ironic Maple Leafs fan at Joe Louis Arena is an entertaining way to go, even if you do waste a little time of your day making sure you learn the Canadian National Anthem.  What can I say, there's still that natural actor in me from playing leads in school plays.

"I know that you wanna be Canadian..."

I also bailed out Jason by getting my brother to come and pay for an extra ticket.  Everyone I know declined to stay home and watch the Tigers/Yankees game, but his cable was out anyway, so he jumped in.  To my friends:  Sorry you stayed home just to watch a lot of rain on the tellie...suckers.  The lessons here are:  1)never assume that a lady will actually go to sports with you and 2) never stay home to watch things when you could be doing something (it's lame).

Saturday
Quickly following our nuptuals, my wife's maid of honor had her wedding this weekend.  I had a few tasks.

1)  Figure out something to wear - Now, just to be clear, I am not your hopeless, fashion-challenged male that has no idea how to dress himself.  I may not be the traditional handsome debonaire man here, but when it comes to nice clothes that work with my body type, I have an arsenal, and I can bring the heat.

Slight problem, though.  All of my suits, that I figured would be fine, now fit me like a child that got into daddy's closet.  My jackets have reached sleeping bag status.  Now what?

2)  Set up for the wedding - Mike and Katie did so much behind the scenes of our wedding that I hadn't realized, so I owed them HUGE.  I knew that Katie's parents would be giving me things to do, and I was good with that.  I was even glad I would be able to return the favor and help them.  The one thing I didn't know I would be doing is carrying their wedding cake (handmade by her sister) from inside the house to the reception tent outside.  Apparently Mike did it for us, and it stressed him out, so now it was my turn.

3)  Pray hard - Friday's weather was cold, rainy, and awful  Less than a month ago, it's 91 for our wedding and suddenly we have mid-40s.  If I'm a bride and see Friday's weather, and head to our house with some things for the next day still left undone...I'm freaking out.  Katie was obviously stressed, but not as much as you'd expect.  I was praying and hoping beyond hope that they did not get dumped on, because at those temps it would have been intolerable. 

I woke up at 7:30 Saturday morning to make sure I figured out something good to wear.  Patching together a great dress shirt that my sister bought for me (that I've never wore because I was too fat), a brand new tie, an really nice sweater my mom got for me 3 years ago, and an old hat that belonged to grandpa, I was able to piece together something classy and old-fashioned where everything matched.  The only problem was that I had to go with my feet-killing brown shoes that rub my heels like fatter me's thighs in corduroy.

Katie's parents had me do a lot, but nothing unreasonable.  The cake was a two man job, and oh boy was it scary.  I spent most of the trip going backwards, on wet grass, down a slight hill, with lumpy, uneven ground, with fallen hickory nuts lining the yard.  It was frightening, and in addition there were:  the stairs, navigating around tent stakes, straps, and ropes, and going around tables and chairs.  The collective sigh from me and the other chum carrying this thing is the loudest, most relieved, most synchronized sigh I've heard in my life.

So all went well, except for nobody even touching a pony keg of Coors that Mike bought instead of what he and Katie agreed on because he simply waited too long to order.  Oh well, live and learn.  The guests didn't even finish two 24 packs of Sam Adams Octoberfest (I only had 2), so there really wasn't a lot of drinking going on, and the reception ended somewhat early.  I'm guessing Mike did not try to do what I did, and attempt to drink it all the next day, because he's smarter than this guy...

"Wheeze the juice"

Does beer kill weeds?  Let's find out.

Obviously the Brooksie already happened and you can probably figure out who I am and how I've done if you look through the results, but "Spoilers..."