Seasons Change

The house is quiet now. All the little creatures are back in their rooms fast asleep. The Wii (courtesy of Secret Santa) and Nintendo DS (that's as far as their old man would go) are finally shut off. Dear old Daisy wandered out a moment ago and found a spot under the Christmas tree, to keep me company late into the night.

With age and progress, gone are the days spent assembling a bike or two, building something new out of Lego, or opening up packages of Barbies and Polly Pockets each with 75 minuscule accessories. Instead, you just plug it in, switch it on, and turn it up. As I write this, there are chargers galore going full tilt all over the house, prepping for tomorrow's onslaught. Bah Humbug!

Yet even while I wax nostalgic, one of those charges is for, um, me. My old school $24.95 Timex Ironman watch with it's resin strap will still work for every occasion no matter what the dress code is, but S. got me this for my running. I took it out for a spin today, and it's a keeper. The 5-mile loop around the neighborhood that I marked out using my car's odometer ... Garmin measured it down to the last crack in the sidewalk marking the end of my route ... exactly 5:00 miles. I'm hooked.

Merry Christmas everyone, and Happy New Year!

27F Perfect

Sunday morning. 7:45am. 27F. No wind. Feels like 27F. Sunrise. 12 miles. 1:59:23. Feels good to be alive.

The first pic is looking out our bedroom window just before my run. The second pic is a mile and a half away where the fancy homes begin; we live back amongst the cheap seats.

Life In The B.D. Lane - Surely Make You Lose Your Mind

As in "Before Disney".

I'm not sure what my goals are for Disney anymore. I don't need to PR, but it would be nice to not exceed my worst time (what's the opposite of PR?). I've got a beat on a new plan to boost my running hopefully, which will be revealed in due course, but I gotta get beyond Disney first.

In the meantime, just supposing you had to travel from Dallas to Orlando for a marathon, and wanted to give yourself ample time to get there, get situated, get expo'd, get RBF'd, get coffee, get sleep, and wake up for a 6:00 AM start (what the?), what's the quickest route to get there?

Answer? You make your flight reservations months in advance to fly in Thursday, rest up Friday and Saturday, and race Sunday, right?

WRONG!

The right answer - you get scheduled for a meeting all the way over in f***ing SEATTLE from 3-5PM PST on f***ing FRIDAY so you can take the f***ing RED-EYE to Miami and hop over to Orlando by f***ing lunchtime Saturday!

I gotta stop taking speech therapy from Bex.

Going With Plan B

I was layered and bundled from head to toe when I stepped outside this morning at 5:50am. I had an 8-miler to make up from last weekend. Immediately, I felt a bone chilling cold descend on me. Decision time.

Do it now, get it over with, stay on course with my training plan, and come back a frozen tuna. Or ...

Wait till later in the day, maybe it'll warm up a touch. OK, I did, and it didn't. Worse, it started drizzling a slow mist all day.

At 6:00pm, I drove over to the new rec center, literally across the street from me, and signed up. Hello, dreadmill, I thought I saw the last of ye.

Memphis Memories

Memphis is already a distant memory. I’ve been on the road all week, and am just now getting down to reminiscing about my race. The start was a block and a half away, and the finish was right outside my window, shown here at 6:30 am when I got up.

For a change of pace, I thought I’d just write about some impressions I took away from the race, like …

• A fit-looking 30-ish guy wearing a Goofy hat does not inspire confidence in a 4:00 pace leader.

• A fit-looking 30-ish blonde in hot pink velour long sweat pants provides some reason for hesitation in a pace leader, but beats Goofy hands down any day.

• No matter how appetizing your brain thinks it looks, a chocolate frosted donut mysteriously tastes like compressed sawdust when you’re in your 3rd hour of running.

• Spectators who yell “Way to go 4-minute milers!” when you run by with your pace team posse at mile 16 can make you feel elite, even if you know they're woefully mistaken.

• Spectators who hesitantly call out “Uh, looking good” when you hobble by alone on wobbly cramped legs at mile 20 have got to hurt more to say that than you do to look it.

• At the end of the race, a hot cup of broccoli cheese soup really hits the spot. Even better when followed by a hot cup of southwestern chicken enchilada soup.

• Whoever invents instant anti-cramping cream is never going to have to work another day in his/her life.

For the record, here are the splits:

Mile 2: 18:16 (9:08 avg)
Mile 4: 18:44 (9:22 avg)
Mile 6: 18:26 (9:13 avg)
Mile 8: 18:17 (9:08 avg)
Mile 9: 9:11
Mile 10: 9:21
Mile 11: 9:14
Mile 12: 9:19
Mile 13: 9:00
Mile 14: 9:07
Mile 15: 9:17
Mile 16: 9:09
Mile 17: 9:12
Mile 18: 9:11
Mile 19: 10:02 (uh-oh)
Mile 20: 11:43 (whump)
Mile 21: 12:14 (thud)
Mile 22: 13:06 (crash)
Mile 23: 13:34 (burn)
Mile 24: 13:01 (ouch)
Mile 26: 24:56 (12:28 avg)
Mile 26.2: 2:19

A GREAT Training Run!

4:26:54 is the best training run I've ever done. I wouldn't say it's the worst race for me, unless you go strictly by finish time :-) The wheels fell off a bit early, between 18-19 miles, and the dastardly cramps set in. It was a son-of-a-b!t#h to walk/run home, but I'm satisfied and content with finishing. Next up - Disney. First, a shower, then a flight home.