Say whaaaaaaaaat?

Guess what, homies? The Kid ran 12 miles yesterday!

You's a BAD motha! Shut your mouth!

I know, that's really far. Believe me, going into the last mile, I seriously thought my brain was cooked. But to be honest, I don't think I could have stopped even if I wanted to. My legs were on auto pilot, just running. It was a really nice day out and I thought, shoot, why not bust a long one. 11 miles later, I was seriously questioning my reasoning, especially since I was wearing a pair of shoes I purchased two days previously. That made for some fun leg pains. My IT band is super pumped with me right now.

I have to say, though, I am starting to like this long distance running thing. I mean, it feels like you are out on the road for all of April, but it didn't take that long. This 12 miler gave some serious credibility to jumping into the Boston Marathon around Wellesley and running a half. What will not be super awesome about jumping in at this point is Heart Break Hill, which is only a few miles from where I plan on starting. Nothing says fun like a full 1.5 miles of incline; Whoooooooooooooooooooooo!

I have to admit that I didn't mean to run 12, more like 10.5. No, no, I didn't get lost, per say, just more confused than anything else. check out the map below from www.mapmyrun.com, which I used to plot out most of my runs. It may not look systematic, but I actually meant to run that loop, but got confused on a few side streets that ended up tacking on an extra mile and a half.

Before I go on, I just have to make a quick quip about a dude who made a comment on my tube socks.

OK, tube socks, maybe not what the majority of people like to wear. You know what, tube socks are dope, especially the kind that have the thick cotton around the feet like the Puma ones I rock exclusively (Puma, hit me up, I would love to rock your joints for a small fee). Before my run, a dude made a comment about them, how any sock that went above the ankle was off limits. See, I used to think so too, but there is something dashing about the tube sock now. I don't know, call it a fashion trend that has grown on me in my older years. However, this little dig at my tubes was not the problem. The problem was the source of the comment.

There I was, stretching, getting ready to head out, you know, minding my own business when a middle aged dude walks by me and stops.

"Nice tube socks," says the middle aged guy with a snicker.

Now I could really have given a deuce, but after taking one look at this cat, I just got annoyed. You see, home slice was wearing a running tank top, which is fine, I have several. However, he was also wearing some SERIOUS poom poom running shorts. For those who are not schooled on just what poom pooms are, refer to the picture below:


Yep, those are poom pooms. You older folks might refer to them as daisy dukes, hence the picture of Catherine Bach. Either way you slice it, dude was sporting a serious pair of shorts. Now again, I don't care as yes, I too own a few pairs of short running shorts (what, they are comfortable for long runs...even though they are quite revealing). However, I do not, nor will I ever, own anything with floral patterns.

Yes, floral patterns. Dude was heading out on a long run looking like he was sponsored by the Talbots spring collection. I'll take the tube socks, thanks.

That is all.

-B

I know, I know

Yes, I have been neglecting my blog, and that is not a nice thing to do. But, to make up for it, guess what I did?

I got a new pair of kicks, of course! Check it-

Yes, they scream middle-aged-white-man, but I have to remind you that I only wear them to run in. You will not catch me wearing them with Levi's straight-leg 501 jeans, with dress socks and shorts, etc; just running. 

My old running kicks were giving me leg problems, or that is what I used to justify my new purchase. I had an old pair of Brooks Dyads a few years back, but I gave them away when I was in Tanzania. There is a little kid running around with a pair of size 11's, much too big for him, but hey, he was over the moon. 

I have a weird foot strike, probably due to the lack of ligaments left in my ankles. One I had surgically reconstructed, and so now I over-pronate in that foot. I have been putting off getting my other ankle reconstructed because, well, it is a pain in the G-Maximus. This unfixed foot, it has ZERO stability, I can actually dislocate it on command without pain. Gross, but fascinating. Because of the instability, I tend to supinate. Add the fact that I apparently have a wide foot, which I didn't know until I went to a specialty running store a couple of years back (thanks to Matt Magonis and his running peeps at Fast Feet Syracuse), my feet make for a tough fit. The Dyads could seriously be used to water ski with, they are that wide. Super comfortable, very steady, not too stiff; I am not sure why I ever went away from them. Sorry, Brooks, it won't happen again.

I am going to take a shot in the dark here but maybe it would be in my best interest to see an podiatrist and get some orthotics. Having one foot over pronate and the other supinate, probably not the greatest for my legs and back. Great, I heard orthotics are cheap.

Nope.

10+ a faux pas

OK, so I am a fashion snob, well, kind of. I like to call it fashion common sense. I mean, come on, who honestly feels comfortable walking out of the house wearing socks and sandals? No one except fashion criminals, right? Exactly. There are tons of these kinds of fashion breaches, many of which are on display in this undated photo of some stranger below:

You can see the deadly combination of the white tube sock and the active sandal, or what I refer to as the Honkey Sandal. I don't care who you are, where you are from, what you believe in, etc. You should be arrested and jailed for thinking, even for a second, that this combo is couth.

Not couth.

The jacked-up waist line is a gimme and shouldn't even be talked about, unless your draw string is needed to save a drowning baby. The flat brimmed hat has made a comeback among the hip hop crowd, but I say how dare they. Don't they know that the flat brimmed hat started the great depression in the 1920's? Such egregious behavior can prove to be fatal. Lastly, I would like to point out the worst blunder of all in this picture, the Fanny Pack.

Fellas, there is never, EVER a right time to wear one of these bad boys. I have often heard the excuse, "But I was at Disney World." What? I don't care if you were in a sauna with no clothes on...what...go with it...there is never a right time for the fanny pack. Ever.

Need to carry some extra cash? Get a bigger wallet. Need a place to put your passport? get a man-pouch that can tuck under your shirt. But never, EVER resort to using a fanny pack. One friend of mine did so on an ill-fated trip with his family to see Mickey and the concubines and he ended up losing all of his hair. Yeah, I know, I didn't know fanny pack wearage could cause such severe health problems, either. Just be glad that I told you.

I am telling you all of this because there have been some rumors floating around the internets that I have been wearing a fanny pack while running. First off, I would just like to say that is simply blasphemous; I did not have any relations with that fanny pack. Yes, I do wear a contraption around my waist that may or may not be misidentified as a fanny pack. I must assure you, though, it is by no means a fanny pack and I take great offense to such accusations.

Enter exhibit A: The contraption that I wear is below and as you can see, has a specific purpose for runners. I am not sure who reads this blog, but if you are a runner, you will know that running clothes do not hold much. Also, when you are out on the road suffering through pounding the pavement, you do not want to have anything in your hands. No, those are saved for dropping the Heismann move while dodging traffic, throwing bows at local dogs that may give chase, and showing annoying folks how you really feel when they cut you off. So, you need to put your water somewhere. In your pockets? That makes sense...

nope.

So some smart people took it upon themseleves to toe the faux pas line without crossing it and came up with the bottle holder. I am not looking to store anything other than my house key and some midrun excuses to slow down, that being a drink.

Enter exhibit B:

I know, I should have warned you all about the picture to the right. If I burned your retinas, well, sorry but I didn't come up with these horrible contraptions. Blame the middle-aged tourist with a lack of social grace, not me.

Anyway, you can see a clear distinction between the pack I wear and the one which scars people, young and old. One is simple, erganomic and people friendly, supplying owners with a resevoir of thirst-quenching liquid. The other is offensive in almost every category imaginable, definitely too many to list here. It often bodes national flair, as seen above. You want to sport flair? Throw on a red polo and some suspenders and get me an awesome blossom. You want to sport American flair? Call up my boy Kronic and seek an invitation to his world-reknowned Festivus Celebration - you will be hip deep in the stars and bars. But showing your patriotism by draping it across your booty?

Nope, not patriotic; at all, really. I don't care if you have a screaming bald eagle tattooed across you chest - still not patriotic to don one of these jammies.

OK, that is enough for now. Back to running....

My long run on Sunday was fine, nothing exciting. I did get to run it in Springfield, MA, my home town. Forest Park is my favorite place to run in New England, although I wish I could have taken it in more this time around. I was busy trying to think about the fact that I had 7.5 more miles to go. I did eventually get through it, although this one was especially slow. I don't know what it was, but my legs were just tight and tired. Unlike previous runs, 10 miles was the farthest I could have gone that day and I was glad to sit down afterwards.

And yes, I did wear my liquid FP.

Saturday is for procrastination

I woke up a bit late on Saturday morning and didn't get out to meet my team until around 8:30 AM or so. I was planning on running with them for motivation, but no one was around by the time I got there. I wasn't feeling THAT awesome, it was butt cold out and raining, so I listened to the procrastination side of me and decided to just put in a short run. Another training team was in the area and I hooked up with a triathlete heading out for an easy 3 mile run. Too bad his version of easy and my version of easy were not the same thing. Not one to ever say anything, or to tell myself that the pace may just be a bit quick for me, I kept up with him...until my legs felt like they were made of concrete. At about mile 2, I did something I almost never do.

"Hey, I am going to slow it down a bit, go ahead and take off with out me."

What? Right that down! Did you hear that? Yeah, I know, crazy. Typically I would have run myself into the ground out of pride, or better put, false pride. What can I say, I am a typical dude in that department. 

"Must...not...show...weakness..."(cue collapse on concrete)

Not this time. No, my running partner with the uber-tight leggings and oversized shirt (he looked like a toddler, it was weird) obliged and took off, leaving me to drop the pace a bit and find my legs. I never really did, but I did finish with the ability to walk afterwards, so that is a step in the right direction. 

I decided to go for my long run on Sunday, a justification for the three I just put in. Never the less, I am coming along. I may not feel like it, but I know I am making progress. Tomorrow will be a good test of how my legs have gotten used to the longer distances. 

After returning home for a quick clean up, I headed off to the bustling town of Suffield, CT to watch the Suffield Academy track team, my alma mater, compete in their first meet. Quite a strong group of kids. Can you believe that in this little tiny WNEPSA league, there are some of the nations elite HS boys 800 meter runners? Stay tuned on that, SA has a phenom of their own (www.suffieldacademy.org).

My NCAA gripe/rant right quick...

I can't write anything about running right now, I need to get this out and I will get back to what I came here to write about:

This game is a perfect as to why basketball is a stupid sport, and one more reason why all Americans should adopt football, not American football, as the sport of choice. Memphis proved they were the best team, up by 9 with 2 minutes to go. In comes the STUPID hack-a-shaq game style and Kansas gets back in it.

I thought penalty kicks were the worst way to decide a game, but this is leaps and bounds beyond that. Penalty kicks at least decide the game between two legitimately tied teams. This was just bunch of bull. I am not even a Memphis fan, as Caplipari left UMASS when I was a kid for nothing but money when he said he wasn't going to. That and I picked Kansas in my pool. No, this was just a frustrating game to watch and unfortunate for Memphis. Without a question the better team did not win tonight, by a long shot. In my opinion, they (whoever decides these things) need to make intentional fouls an automatic 2-shot-and-the-ball situation. Scoring then fouling before the inbounds? That isn't basketball, that is straight crap. What a cheap way to win a national title.

Sorry coach Cal, you should have played footy.

A few I am sorries

Ok, so maybe I have been slacking a bit on the update piece. For that, I apologize. I would like to say it will not happen again, but, that may be a bit of a stretch. Nonetheless, here is what I have been up to-
I first would like to apologize to my new friend, who I disrespected the other day.

Goo, I am sorry.

I know, I called you something along the lines of hot trash. I was a little dehydrated at the time, I wasn't thinking clearly; I don't know what got into me. I feel as though our relationship has gotten off on the wrong foot. I would like to start anew, take a clean slate approach - what do you say? I promise not to call you names and say you taste like mung if you promise to provide me an insane amount of energy similar to rocket fuel. Deal?

So I pounded out 11 miles this past Saturday. It was really far, the farthest I have ever run. I know 11 miles is eleven miles, but this was a really long 11 miles. Remember that whole bit about my problem with planning? Yeah, well, that kind of came into play again. You see, Hopkinton, MA in regards to the Boston Marathon, sits up on a hill, allowing the runners a fairly drastic descent over the first 3 to 4 miles. I knew this before I set out to run my pre-determined 10 mile long run. Did I map it out, check to see what type of run this could turn into? HAHAHAHA, whoooooo. No, no I did not to answer your question.

I knew I was in trouble after the first few minutes of this particular journey. You see, I sometimes have trouble gauging how fast my pace is. By that I mean I refuse to feel like I am going slow, so I tend to go out too hard and end up sucking wind within the first few miles. And wouldn't fate have it that two people I work with show up at the start line just as I am about to head out. Of course, these two guys are super fit as they plan to run the Boston Marathon in a few weeks. So what do I do? Yep, you guessed it, I tried to keep pace with them. ten minutes and a few F-bombs later, I was knee deep in the hoopla and this starship was off to a bad start.

Luckily for me I am impatient, which led me to slam that Goo before I started out. Let me tell you, my new friend might taste like a bag of smashed booties but man, can they fire you up. And those of you who know me, I don't really need much to reaise my energy level; I my day to day speed is usually measured at the ludacris level. However, after kidding myself and running like I stole something, I was in need of a pick me up. I;ll tell you, that gooey scrumtrulescence is amazing stuff. I was able to make it to the 5 mile marker without seriously considering hailing a cab. What I did know was that I had just descended some SURIOUS hills and I had to turn around and go back. One goo pack of Mint Chocolate and a few watery-eyed dry heaves and I was ready to go.
Yeah, I can't accurately portray the world of pain I was operating in on those last 5 miles. Instead, I would like to explain myself through pictures, a before and after montage if you will:

Before:

or as my younger sister, Annie, likes to think I look like:

Liono? Really? I mean, besides the forearms, I don't see the resemblance. Well, maybe the cat-like moves I guess, but that still is pushing it.

And after being drop kicked off of the pain train:

(I will fix the formating in the morning...)

Yep, didn't feel AWESOME after that run. But, I got my 11 in, one more than I planned but that will do.

What? I have a mullet? Easy, there is a difference between a true business in the front, party in the back dome slice and the hat-mullet. I have a mullitude of hair, I don't enjoy it in my face as I am swearing my way up mountains (hills, mountains, whatever. You didn't know K2 was actually in eastern MA? Look it up, on wikipedia). So, I have to bite the bullet and rock the faux mullet every now and again.

That is all for now. I have another long run tomorrow morning. I had some minor surgery done this morning and I was told not to run for a few days. But, my primary care doctor only went to medical school, so what does he know?

I haven't been slacking, I will post tonight. Check this doozey out for the time being.