Running – Page 4

April 25, 2013

Revisiting My First Country Music 1/2 Marathon

They told me I wouldn’t sleep much . . . and they were right. The Saturday before I had run the furtherst distance of my life, eight miles. It was a painful lumber in the rain with my fellow “Couch to 5K Graduate,” Grant, on the flattest of Greenways. Now, I was standing with 30,000 other people convincing myself I could go 5.1 miles further on what many consider one of the tougher 1/2 marathon courses.

I stood next to my buddy Roger (who was also running his first 1/2) contemplating whether or not I could make it through the bathroom line in time to get back for the start. I passed and hoped the feeling would go away. Roger and I had the same goal of around 2:10 and started this journey together after a late night photograph revealed we were both turning into whales. We trained on our own, but this race was in our sights for months. His strategy was to listen to three songs with the same cadence over and over on his iPod to keep pace. Mine was to keep running.

The gun went off and our corral inched its way toward the starting mat. I was cold, had to piss, and was suddenly feeling very intimidated by the idea of running so far. I stayed with Roger for about three blocks and his methodical precision started pulling away. My biggest fear was starting too fast, so I purposely went slow, and soon . . . Roger was gone.

It didn’t take long before I started feeling the reality of a 1/2 marathon. As I got to the top of the infamous Demonbreun Street hill, I was barely 3 miles in and apparently falling asleep. This was a risk that seemed like it was sure to have a bad ending.

But, I was on a mission and started using hallucinations to my advantage. For some reason, I thought I had really picked up the pace and started spotting Roger every couple blocks. I’d see him just within striking range and pour on the muscle with plans of flying by with a big back slap on the way. But every time I got close, I realized it wasn’t him. My haphazard racing style was no match for his West Point style of discipline.

For the first 9 miles or so, I was in pain, but nothing like I was about to face at mile 10. I rounded the corner in the Gulch and hit an absolute wall. In all my years of athletics, I have never experienced such a physical meltdown. My legs basically shut off. Instead of running I began to shuffle, and as you can see from the above photo, I was one of the sexier specimens on the course at this time. They wound us into Bicentennial Park and before cutting left toward the finish line, the organizers dropped in a couple of turnarounds that absolutely ground my soul into mush. It took every fiber of my being not to walk.

My shins felt like they may literally crumble at any moment and it wouldn’t have surprised me if there were razor blades in my shorts slicing into my thighs with every step. With less than a mile to go and a downhill ahead to take me home, I still wasn’t sure I could make it without walking. Each step felt like I was putting my foot into a cauldron of boiling acid and that downhill would prove to be one of the more excruciating jaunts of my life. From watching several marathons in the past I remembered the finish line being on the other side of the stadium, but through the grace of God, I was nearly brought to tears when I my creaky ankles turned at the bottom of the hill and pointed at the finish line a mere 50 yards away. I saw the photographers hovering above ready to capture my glorious moment and put every ounce of energy I had left into raising my arms for the photo op.

I was on the verge of fainting and these two girls didn’t seem to give one shit about the fact that my eyes were rolling back into my head. The good news was, that about 10 steps after the finish line, I found myself immersed in a claustrophobic sea of humanity, which may have been the biggest challenge of the race. I was a lost boy without a home (or a medal) and instinctively started shouting “Yo Roger” in the voice of Stallone looking for Adrian.

Eventually I got my medal and found Roger. We were the proudest two guys on the block and immediately started asking people if they were using their extra beer tickets. It was like 9:30 and we were putting them back like true Wisconsin born lumberjacks. We were so impressed with our feats that we wore those medals all day and night. He finished about 5 minutes in front of me and eventually went on to run a full later that year in Huntsville before moving to the Key’s to be a full-time musician. It was quite the memory, and in 3 days, I will be on that same course. No Roger, no fear, and hopefully no pain.

March 10, 2013

Tom King Half Marathon

Today, part of the Fab 5 +1 went out to help at the Nashville Running Company water stop for the Tom King 1/2 Marathon. Jim, Kevin, and Alli rode their trainer bikes for inspiration, I handed out water, and Daniel decided he was gonna bust a groove on the course. Mark was taking care of his daughter.

It was a beautiful morning for running, mid-50s, a little overcast, and it served Daniel well as he nailed down the fastest Fab 5 half marathon time of 1:33:30. A great time that beat his best time by over 2 minutes. We are all getting stronger and faster by the day and, as good as it is, I anticipate that number will be beat by someone in the group soon. He’s set the new goal for a 1/2 and it’s 1:30. Who’s gonna get it?

Jim, Kevin, and Alli put in two hours on the trainer then the guys rode the road for another hour. I left, joined them for breakfast, then put in a couple hour ride on the Greenway. It was a really nice day and the ride was great except for the throngs of people walking on the BIKE PATH!

Actually, I’m kidding. They deserve to be out there and quite frankly I get a tad annoyed at bikers when I’m running, so, oh well. Everyone, including me has to chill.

I have to say, the first outside ride kicked my ass a little. Yesterday’s swim was lurking and I just haven’t been feeling it. Tomorrow we’re going for a two hour jaunt on Natchez Trace and while my legs are saying no, I love that I’m able to get off the trainer.

Here are a few pics from the race today. Hope you’re having a great weekend.

March 7, 2013

It's Heating Up – Swim, Bike, Run, Ironman

Juxtaposing Ironman training with other races is tricky. As I prepared for the New Orleans Half Marathon I was leery of doing too much because I wanted to run well, and it paid off. But now that it’s over, most of what’s on my plate is triathlons, and preparation should fit seamlessly into the program. And that program, is getting intense.

Yesterday, I swam for an hour, mixing in sprints and paddle work (which I now love). Last night was a tempo run of about an hour and ten minutes. I still have to pinch myself at times when I’m routinely knocking out an 8 mile run after work like it’s no big deal. A year ago, I was sweating my first 5k.

The body’s ability to adjust is remarkable. I wasn’t easy to digest a long-ish run last night, but Mark and I hammered the first of two 25 minute tempo runs pretty good. Daniel joined for the second loop and my legs got heavy, but my breathing rarely did. That’s the amazing part to me. Just like the New Orleans Half. I didn’t feel like I was breathing hard at all until I hit mile eleven. Our aerobic capacities are far more than most of us can imagine.

I remember a lesson I learned from East Nasty Godfather, Mark Miller when I started running last year. He said the minute your exercise becomes anaerobic, your risk of bonking elevates. That’s why little things like slowing your pace before you reach a hill are important.

Out of all the things I’ve learned, that one stays close to my brain. I’m always flirting with the edge of my breathing while I run. If I’m breathing more than every 4th stride on running, I take note and back it down a little, especially if they are hard breaths. That’s the edge for me and usually I’ll only push that hard if I’m toward the end of a run. I consciously focus on taking a deep and relaxed breath to see if I can extend my stride count. Many times I can. Even if it’s to 4 1/2. To me that signals I’m in my comfort zone. Then it all comes down to what’s left in my legs.

Cycling (albeit inside on a trainer) has really boosted my leg strength. We’ve done up to three hour sessions, followed by 30 minute runs. I’m not sure of the mechanics between biking and running, but I feel like time on the bike also makes me a faster runner. The more I think about it, the more I find the bike an incredibly powerful workout.

If you haven’t spent a couple hours on a trainer, without the wind in your face or a fan and you can’t believe how much you sweat. The illusion of wallowing through the meadow on a bicycle will quickly be shattered if you lock down a spin wheel on your back tire. I am really anxious to see how the indoor training translates to the road.

Tonight, it’s back on the trainer for a big gear/threshold session and I’m looking forward to inching closer toward being a “finisher” at Ironman Wisconsin. It’s the little steps, the small gains, and the barely recognizable shots of confidence that make a difference in the end. That, and training with a group of guys and a coach that continually give me a jolt when I need it most.

For me, Ironman is 90% about confidence, yet that 10% doubt lurks at all times. The nagging pain, the bad workout, the exhaustion. I am banking on momentum to dilute the doubt, the negativity, and I’m seeing the power in that principle more every day. And that theory is making me more aware that I need to surround myself with positive and inspiring people in general. Life is too short to be around people that bring you down.

March 5, 2013

Last Night I Ran

I started with an 20 warm up jog then got down to business:

30 sprint, 30 off, repeat
45 sprint, 45 off, repeat
60 sprint, 60 off, repeat
1:30 sprint, 1:30 off, repeat
60 sprint, 60 off
45 sprint, 45 off, repeat
30 on, 30 off, repeat

Several of the sprints coincided with hills. I finished with an easy run to make 60 minutes.

It was rough, but In the end I felt great about being able to run a decent pace for the last 15 or so even though I was winded. My legs felt strong as I glided along to complete the day which included an early morning swim. I felt like I could have kept going for another hour or so at a jogger’s pace, which is really encouraging.

And from “Today’s Random Conversation” file, what every woman wants to know . . . what do guys talk about inside the men’s locker room?

Earlier that morning, I was sitting in the locker room after a swim and was a fly on the wall as three older black men were having a discussion. They were all kinda overweight and I surmised part of the morning pool exercise crew. They moved confidently at a very slow pace while I scrambled impatiently to get the heck out of there. I am quite fond of random locker room babble and this trio did not let me down.

For the purpose of my recollection of their conversation I’ll call them James, Ray, and Carl.

James: Man, have you seen Bobby around?

Ray: Naw, man. I ain’t seen him in a couple weeks.

James: Yeah, I heard he was sick.

Ray: He must be sick cuz he was comin every day and gettin in that pool.

James: Yeah, he must be real sick.

Ray: He was in that pool every mornin.

James: I hear you, man. Boy gotta be sick.

Carl: Better get him a Z-Pak!!

James: I know that’s right!

Ray: Hell yeah.

James: He must be real sick.

Ray: Yeah, he was serious about that pool for a month. Every damn day.

James: Aww man, he must be sick.

Carl: Boy better get him a Z-Pak.

James: Yup.

Ray: Uh huh.

March 4, 2013

How I Will Cut 25 Minutes Off My 1/2 Marathon Time

Note: I wrote this a couple months before running the New Orleans Half Marathon and didn’t post it because I was struggling with the the fact that some of my posts were getting on my nerves. I was also probably very confident that day and deep down a little afraid of getting in over my head. But, since I’ve actually finished the race and did exactly what I thought I would do (even better) I feel like there may be something of value here and not just a big bag of wind.
———————-
Originally written January 14th, 2013

I’m sure this post gives the impression that I’m a cock-ass, but the reality is, I like to push myself and think we generally underestimate our abilities. So much of endurance racing is mental and I hope you can find one or two things in here that help you reach the next level.

I wasn’t feeling great yesterday, but decided to take a little run after breakfast. The plan was to start slow and maintain a comfortable pace for four or five miles. I ended up going ten.

The whole time I was thinking about my plan for the 1/2 marathon in New Orleans. I thought about the full, but am not sure I want to push my body that far yet, so the goal is to run my best half. And here’s how I plan to cut 25 minutes off my first half marathon time of 2:14:33.

The reason I’m confident it will happen is because I’ve seen so much progress. I have two months before New Orleans and yesterday’s run gave me a major boost in belief. I started slow, kept it at a comfortable pace, and averaged an 8:57 pace for ten miles. That pace is only 40 or so seconds away from what I’d need to run to clip 25 minutes.

So, how have I made this much progress in roughly eight months? And how will I get from here to there with two months until the race?

Cross Training

Since I ran my first half last April I have taken a big interest in triathlons, which has added a lot more swim and bike to my routine. Neither can be underestimated when it comes to running performance.

My first triathlon was a Sprint and I was more concerned about finishing than blasting through any of the individual phases. I felt good coming out of the swim and took it fairly easy on the bike to make sure I could actually run the entire 5k. As it turned out I felt better after that run than I had in any other run I’d done to that point. There was something about the full body workout that agreed with me, and if I hadn’t been so paranoid about finishing, I think I could have easily run my best 5K after the swim and bike if I would have pushed harder.

There is no denying that biking makes you a faster runner. I used to do a ton of mountain biking in my 30’s and felt like I was as fast on a baseball field as I’d ever been. Biking is great for explosive and fast twitch muscles.

Swimming clearly helps your endurance, but it is also great for balancing your muscles and strengthening your core. I haven’t been killing myself in the pool, but knocking out a couple 1,000 – 1,500 yard swims a week goes a long ways on the run.

I’ve also been doing a lot of push ups and ab work on the side during tv commercials or between editing sessions. The key here is to do it when you feel it. I never go to fail or push myself to the point of exhaustion.

Consistent Running and Maintenance

I really don’t run that much. It kind of scares me. But I do push myself to run at least twice a week and normally it’s between 3-6 miles. Until yesterday, I hadn’t run more than 8 miles since the 1/2 marathon, but I have been running those short distances harder and I believe that helps overall endurance.

Three weeks ago I ran a 12k (7.25 miles) at what used to be my 5k pace. It was a mental breakthrough and what made it possible was running with faster pace groups in training. It’s like playing sports with better athletes, it can be painful, but you always improve your performance, and in the case of running, those sub 9 miles start turning into sub 8 miles with the same perceived energy exertion.

I’ve also stayed fairly consistent with the foam roller and leg strengthening exercises. Nothing crazy, but a consistent focus on making sure my legs are warmed up and loose before and after runs. It goes without saying that running is easier when your knees, ankles, and hips don’t hurt.

Learning to Relax into Form

Every mile I try to remember to “shake it out.” The repetitive nature of running can cause tension in all parts of our body. It takes a little more energy to let your arms fall and swing them around, but I always find it gives me a boost. I also like to put them over my head and stretch as far as I can. It’s interesting because I can literally feel the blood pulsing through my arms when I do this.

The other thing I notice in long runs is that I typically get sore/tight/lazy in the hip flexors which makes each step utterly painful at times. This is when I know I really have to concentrate on my form.

When our hips are tired it means we’re sort of throwing the legs forward instead of running. First, I mentally try to relax both of my legs and let go of tension. Forcing my toes to spread out and letting go of any pain that may be creeping in. Then I concentrate on my momentum and finding the controlled fall that forces me to think more about lifting my foot rather than pushing off. I literally say “lift” to myself over and over as I run, while concentrating on “pulling” my foot toward my ass. I’ve found this takes a ton of strain off the hips and forces me to glide more than lunge.

Another thing I do with regard to pain is the minute I feel something in my foot, ankle, knee, hip, stomach, etc, I force my mind to go somewhere else. I mean, if it’s a serious pain, that’s a different story, but I have so many little nagging bouts during a run, I do my best not to focus on them and they usually fade away.

Hydration

It’s obvious to drink fluids during a race, but I am a big proponent of hydrating when you least think you need it. It’s really about having a well oiled machine going into a race more than it is to put put an extra quart in a smoking engine.

Hydration is a year round process and with the amount of beer I put in my body, I have no choice but to take it seriously. I have pretty good habits with water, like drinking it right away in the morning and pounding more than I think I need after a workout and I believe both go a long ways.

I also plan to add more fruit and vegetables to get the hydrating benefits of water based foods when you don’t feel like drinking water all the time.

Take Advantage of Race Energy

I feel like race day is good for 15-30 seconds per mile when compared to my training runs. The energy of the crowd and other racers drive you to new heights. With that in mind, my plan is to purposely start a minute and a half slower than the necessary pace to reach my goal of 1:49:33, which is 8:21 per mile. So, I will do my absolute best to run the first mile of the half at a 9:51 pace, which will more likely translate into a 9:30 pace in the excitement of the moment.

The key for me is holding back and finding a nice rhythm. I think it is always better to start slow and fall into your pace rather than start at it or faster. Yesterday I really paid attention to this and noticed that around mile 7 I would catch myself pacing around 8 minute miles without really trying to hit that mark. I instantly slowed it back to a nine minute pace, but I’d always pick up speed. I guess my point is, it’s better to control yourself by backing down to the right pace than having to speed up to get there.
—————
Post Script: My actual time for New Orleans was 1:42:03 which means I cut over 32 minutes off my only other half marathon.

January 15, 2013

Introducing the Ironman Fear Meter

I think we hit the 70’s in Nashville over the weekend, but that came to a crashing halt this morning. Ice caked the windows when I grazed by to tackle a painfully early Monday-morning-run.

Today was tough, but it was also the first time I kinda felt like Rocky. Cold, dark, empty streets waited for my hunched over body covered in a gray hoodie to set sail into the sunrise. The wind cut through the cotton and dogs barked as I shuffled past. The meat of the workout was hill repeats, which sounded like a splendid way to kick off the work week.

I jogged two miles past the quiet homes onto the Shelby Park Greenway, then turned to face the steep path that led to the top of the pedestrian bridge. The ascents were labeled “hard climbs” and I did just that, covering each rise in about a minute. Then I’d jog down and do it again.

I finished the five hills and turned left toward home. (I realized tonight, I skipped the “five fast descent followed by slow jogs to the top part). It was a good way to start the day.

It was a quiet morning, and the only person I saw . . . was a deer. The Rocky theme played over in my head and I felt strong as I tackled two more hills on the way to my house. I covered five total miles in about 43 minutes and really wanted to keep going, but reality was calling.

I sat through 8 hours of corporate speak in my basement office wishing I could be in a pool or on a beach or lifting weights or sitting on a trainer (well, maybe not the trainer part). It was a very technical “numbers-kinda-marketing-day” and I really needed workout number two when I left.

I came home, fed the dog, and went to the pool. And while I have you, let me just say, I think lap swimmers are treated like the dregs of society.

At the East Nashville pool, we have exactly two lanes and they are just wide enough for a pair of supermodels. I am always waiting to get in the pool while staring at two or three people eating cheeseburgers on the “fun side.”

I swam about 45 minutes tonight and there was some poor guy watching for at least 20. Eventually I climbed out and said to the guy, “Sorry, man, I wish they had another lane.” To which he responded, “Oh, no problem, I have nothing else to do.”

So, I guess this makes me the totally impatient asshole of the bunch!

Tonight’s workout was some crazy ass combination of sprint repeats, but I forgot my sheet so I made up my own version, which consequently wasn’t close. But, it’s all good because I am still trying to find my comfort zone in the pool and frankly sprinting feels like shit (not to mention I don’t think I’m going much faster). So, I dabbled in the “fast lane” for about 10 minutes, then finished with a nice, smooth 25 minute swim (that was only interrupted once by some kid who had to take a swim test and let me tell you, this kid swam like Johnny Weismuller. Water was flying everywhere and he passed with flying colors, then he and his little buddy hogged the other lane with flippers and snorkles).

So, in all, this has been a really nice day. I feel strong, but not overworked. That’s kinda my internal barometer at this point. The last thing I want to be is exhausted and facing a string of tough workouts.

Now I will introduce a new feature on this blog which will rate my confidence level with the different events.

Ironman Fear Meter:

Swim – Very concerned
Bike – Somewhat concerned
Run – Fairly concerned

Today’s Diet:
Breakfast: Oatmeal, Banana, Hard boiled egg
Lunch: Wendy’s #1 with pickles and ketchup only, coke
Afternoon: Small coffee
Dinner: Tuna straight from the can, Hard boiled egg, pasta, an apple

January 12, 2013

How A Blonde Humbled Me in the Pool

Four of the five Fab Five members showed up at 7:00 to ride the spin bike for an hour before spin class. I was the only one missing.

The training schedule called for a two hour bike followed by an easy 30 minute run, but since I’m listening to my body, I slept in a bit and got there at 8:00. I took a little shit for that maneuver, but the guys didn’t know what a traumatic experience I had in the pool last night (yes, this is what I do on Friday nights, swim).

I’m usually a little tight on Fridays from the workweek, so I stuck with my plan of a 300 yard breast stroke to loosen up, then complete the 2,000 yard light swim. Once again, I couldn’t find my stroke and it’s starting to piss me off. It’s like a perpetual level of mediocrity in the pool.

Somewhere around lap 16 I started to feel loose and settled into a nice pocket. I mean, I was ready to hammer the rest of this swim in gorgeous fashion.

I saw her out of the corner of my eye in the next lane. She was probably mid to late 30’s and swimming right with me for a few strokes, but two strokes later she was a body length in front. I kept repeating, stay on your stroke, keep cool. Then two body lengths, then three, then five and soon she was lapping me. I was crushed, but just couldn’t keep up.

I cursed my swimming and did my best to stay with her feet, but it was hopeless. I settled back in with my body and breathing. She stopped for a minute and I regained my composure. Now, I knew I was swimming faster and could hang on her next approach.

As I spun off the far wall, I saw her right behind me. I subtly kicked it up a notch to ward her advances, then saw her creeping up on my right again. I threw form to the wolves and hammered the water like a caveman. She was not touching the wall before me this time. I fought the waves and battled every pain in my body. Water flooded my mouth and I spit it in her direction like a heavyweight boxer. I would win!

My flailing only seemed to make her chuckle. She cruised through the water like a dolphin. A smooth ocean creature at piece with her environment watching as the land-dweller panicked. She flew by me like I wasn’t there and, it hurt more than normal because when she pulled away, I noticed she was doing the backstroke! This woman just pummeled my dreams from her easy-chair.

So, as I concluded my 1,500 yards (yeah, you caught me), I did what any competitive athlete in my shoes would do. I waited for her to stop and asked her for advice, which she happily gave and was instantly second-guessed on the first Youtube swimming video I watched later. It’s all so confusing to me.

With my swimming nightmare in the mirror, I staggered into our group bike with weak legs and low self esteem and as luck would have it, the spin instructor was a mid to late 30’s woman who proceeded to kick my ass on the bike. These women, I am telling you!

I stuck it out for an hour, then ran with the Fab Five minus 2 plus one (Allison) for 30 minutes in the rain. I’m guessing we were around a 10 minute mile pace and climbed some nice hills, but I felt very strong. Then, of course, I crushed breakfast.

January 5, 2013

Bad Start to 2013 Training

Let me tell you, I am not quite in sync with the official Ironman training. The schedule is laid out like a ripe bag of apples waiting for a sinful chomp, but this holy roller isn’t hungry! Yet . . .

I started yesterday with lower body weights and hit the trainer bike last night, but tonight’s swim was sh*t bag. The plan was to do 40 x 50’s, then finish with an easy 1,000 pull. I couldn’t find my breath for the life of me and while I’m sure that is somehow ironic, it’s nowhere near finding 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife.

Anyway, like U2 says, I’m gonna walk on and make love to my bike tomorrow. And while I’m at it, is it just me or does riding trainers suck? I’ve been on mine maybe 6 times and I am genuinely concerned that it’s not gonna work. I’m seriously contemplating riding in the rainy 42 degree weather tomorrow instead of riding in place while my dog looks at me in sadness for two hours. I think I may need a new seat as well, so if anyone (coach?) has a good recommendation, slide it over.

Sunday is an easy 1:15:00 run, which I’m really looking forward to. I mean, other than the fact that runners can be kind of weird, I’m really getting into this archaic form of transporting my body and soul. There is definitely something scintillating about reaching new goals and I’m sure that’s because I’ve only been running for a year and being able to say I’m going for an easy one hour run kinda cranks my jack.

DIET QUESTIONS

I just ate pasta for the third night in a row and I am seriously concerned I have an addiction. I’m still not sure how I want to handle my diet for this race, but pretty sure it will not center on pasta. I’m leaning toward fish, greens, and potatoes. Any thoughts from the gallery?

December 14, 2012

If Running Clubs Were Gangs

Before East Nasty floods the streets on Wednesday runs, Mark Miller stands before us offering sage advice, group events, and a list of great things the running club is doing for local schools and charities. I’m not sure why, but every time he stands on that hill and “calls for everyone to move closer,” I imagine he is the Guardian Angels’ version of Cyrus from the Warriors.

The Warriors is a 1979 Cult Classic that follows one gang’s (the Warriors) struggle to make it back to Coney Island after being framed for shooting New York’s kingpin or the underworld (Cyrus) at an all-city gang retreat in Central Park. As you can imagine the Warriors did a lot of running in the movie and it made me wonder what it would be like to have other running clicks trying to take us out as we pound the streets of East Nashville.

“Can you dig it?”

The East Nasty “Warriors,” hit the streets armed with tight lycra, head lamps, and Gu energy packs. The goal: Talk or run our way to a safe return to 5 Points (Coney Island).

We turned right on Woodland with eyes peeled for the NRC “Boppers” led by Lee “Big Moe” Wilson, Hunter “Boxcar” Lane, and Season “Greenback” Kaminski. The Boppers roll in purple vests, ties, and fedoras and protect their turf with high speed chases. They are difficult to miss and even harder to escape.

The Boppers, however, must have been grilling veggie burgers out back because we cruised through Upper 5 Points without incident. But a new challenge awaited as we descended a short hill on mid-foot onto the turf of the Lipstick Lounge “Lizzies.”

Starr, Sarah, and Roxanna use seduction as their weapon of choice. They lull you to sleep with flashy smiles, spike your drink, then steal your girlfriend. Fortunately they were distracted by Karaoke night and we rolled by unnoticed.

We pushed the next hill with intrepid smiles and gazed an eery school building which doubles as the home of a low class outfit known as The Orphans. Often found lurking in dirty green t-shirts and jeans, the Orphans are more bark than bite. They have low numbers and offered little opposition to nearly 200 Nasties armed with water bottles and reflective vests.

Glancing at our Garmins, we turned down Eastland then crossed the dangerous 14th Street intersection before hearing the startling sound of clicking beer bottles emanate from a rundown hearse. We turned down our iPods and noticed the disturbing rattle was accompanied by a hipster vocal.

“Nasties . . . come out and play . . . ”

The Bad Kroger “Rogues” were up the their old shenanigans. Always a spine-chilling sight, the Rogues are a prominent street gang typically too drunk on 40’s to pose a real threat. We cut a hard left and headed toward safer terrain.

But we were far from home.

This particular route is called “The Church Run” and several gangs were sure to be waiting, including The Southern Cross.

We weaved our way to Fatherland and headed straight into harms way at East Park. Even though it’s the off season, everyone knows the Baseball Furies are in Winter Training. Sure enough, less than one block from their natural grass turf, I caught a glimpse of pin striped uniforms and heard the signature sound of baseball cleats clicking on pavement.

Luckily one of the East Nasties is an college baseball umpire and knows how to eject angry ballplayers. Another scare averted.

After the Furies’ fiasco, there was only one obstacle looming, but it was a big one.

The Shelby Street Turnbull ACs cruise the neighborhoods in a ragged school bus and get their kicks from picking on defenseless runners.

Our only hope was to catch them napping because Shelby is a big ass hill with no escape routes. We turned our headlamps to dim and made a run for it. Thankfully, the Turbull’s didn’t see us until it was too late and their bus wouldn’t start. These guys are a lot of things, but runners isn’t one of them.

On this night, the East Nasty Warriors would prevail. We told war stories at home base, took off our colors and strolled down the street to the running club Christmas party.

#ENFL

Tonight’s Diet: Water, Beer and Chili

December 12, 2012

Marathon Fever and Kosmo Kramer

I weaved through fancy running machines at the Margaret Maddox YMCA with my eye out for flowing silver hair. It was the coldest night of the season and Jim said he wanted to run 8 miles on the treadmill. Eight miles, just 3 days after his marathon.

He wasn’t hard to spot and I circled around to wake him from the trance.

I said, “Hey.”

He said, “Hey man,” which was followed by an awkward pause while he tried to turn down his iPod.

I poised myself for confrontation.

In my best Kosmo Kramer impersonation, I screamed, “Look at you!”

“What?,” he replied while coasting along at a 9 minute pace.

“You’re snake bit!”

He smiled and said, “What do you mean?”

“Your not even thinking about Ironman! You’re addicted to marathons!

He was a kid who just got caught sneaking brownies off the top of the fridge.

“You may be right.”

I said, “What would Kevin think of this behavior?!?” (in reference to our fellow Ironman training partner).

Jim said, “He probably wouldn’t care.”

I just shook my head and said I’d see him after my swim.

These running people are crazy, and I’m not sure what it says about me . . . but I get it. Something about simply putting on shoes and getting after it is really quite scintillating.

Jim didn’t forget about Ironman, but he is totally smitten with the glory of marathons. And let me tell you, nothing gets a woman’s attention like salt piling up on your forehead while plodding down the road for 26.2 miles! I mean, it’s kinda the same attention you get from picking your nose, but hey, if it feels good, let it rip.

He didn’t qualify for Boston at Huntsville, so now he is all in on New Orleans, and I wouldn’t bet against him. This has just become personal and Jim has a reputation to keep.

But, let’s get back to me!

I did, in fact, go for a swim last night. I lollygagged through 1,500 yards and decided that since I am still into triathlons, I would jump on the spin bike. I peddled for 20 minutes and talked myself into ending the night with a nice little one-mile treadmill run. One solid hour of three disciplines and let me tell you, I feel like a million bucks today.

Tonight, it’s back to the road for a 4.5 miler with the East Nasties. I’m not sure if Jim’s running, but I can assure you I will be seriously contemplating dropping the 1/2 and signing up for the New Orleans full. After all, I kinda like the idea of qualifying for Boston myself.

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In other news, Ironman Wisconsin team member, Daniel, has a special announcement coming out soon. He came over last night for a top secret video project I hope to finish tonight so he can post on his blog.