Not a Police Officer

Today's run was supposed to be an 8-miler, but since I already had a surplus for the week and had 18 miles scheduled for tomorrow, I stopped at ~ 7 miles and decided to walk back home. Home is in downtown Louisville, KY. The walk requires that I pass the site of the former Bojangles restaurant on East Broadway. While we were all sad to see Bojangles close it's greasy doors, the city rejoiced when The Chicken King moved in and started serving its delicious brand of southern keel, beans and cornbread.

Know who loves The Chicken King? Folks do. Know who else loves The Chicken King? Derelicts. Hobos. Bindlestiffs. Ragamuffins. Me. Mental defectives. The chronically intoxicated. A member of that last group (and very likely several of the other aforementioned groups) accosted me on my walk home. He, like many of the less fortunate, apparently has a tendency to directly address people who are wearing headphones and are clearly disengaged from their surroundings. Nevertheless he maintained eye contact and kept speaking. So, I removed my headphones. This did not render his communication at all clearer. Fortunately, he had a lady friend, who appeared to be Wanda Sykes and who was able to translate. I will now provide a transcript for all 0 of the readers of this fine blog.

Cast: Dennis "Oil Can" Boyd (OCB), Wanda Sykes (WS), Me (ML)
Setting: Parking Lot of The Chicken King

OCB: You a police officer!? (vaguely accusatory tone)

WS: He aint' no po-lice officer. Look at him.

OCB: Ain't all white people officers? You never know.

ML: I assure you, I am not a police officer

WS: See! I told you so, Oil Can!

OCB: I'm just tryna get something to eat, gnome sane, I'm just starvin' like Marvin, gnome sane.

ML: I understand. Perhaps you wouldn't be so aware of your hunger pangs if you and that strangely appetizing smell of secret spices and grease from the long-departed Bojangles weren't loitering in the parking lot of The Chicken King.

WS: Damn, I miss Bojangles. You ain't gwyne ta arrest us now, are you?

ML: I might. Oil Can Boyd just deputized me.

OCB: Don't you got a dollar or something? (Uttered while removing a handful of pennies from a frayed pant pocket and dropping all over the sidewalk)

ML: Actually, I was just out running and rarely carry cash. I would gladly give you a dollar if I had it, but I doubt that reassurance goes far towards satisfying your hunger. I am sorry about all of it. I promise not to arrest you, though.

OCB: Don't be sorry. Never be sorry for nuthin'. God bless you. (extending hand)

ML: Okay. I'm not sorry, Oil Can. Can I be sorry that Bojangles closed? (extending hand, attempting a handshake, which goes horribly awry when OCB suddenly initiates one of those new-fangled, three-phase handshakes)

That's pretty much how it occurred. It was the first time I've ever been accused of being a police officer. In Oil Can's defense, most whities are cops.

Game Changer!

I'm a game changer! The kind of game changer who comes up to the plate with the bases loaded and 0 outs in the bottom of the ninth of a one run game. The kind of game changer who only needs to put the ball into play to be effective. The kind of game changer who promptly hits into an unassisted triple play.

Took off yesterday to rest the legs a bit, so I made up for it today with an easy 4-miler. In the rain. Down by the river. Louisville's Riverfront Park is the starting/changing point of this weekend's Ironman event. Apparently, the entrants are to swim in the Ohio River. Hopefully, the course officials will remove the shopping carts, tires, trees and corpses from the banks before the event starts. It's pretty disgusting down there.

26 miles split between tomorrow and Sunday. Sunday's 18-miler will be my longest run yet. Hopefully I won't die in the 94 degree heat. If I do, I can still be a game changer. Just ask Norm Coleman about what a game changer a dead Paul Wellstone was.

Miles Surplus

After a 7.25 mile run yesterday and an 8 mile run today, I've built up a 2.25 mile surplus for the week. I think I'll roll those 2.25 miles into tomorrow's run and turn that 5 miler into a ~ 3 miler. My legs are still rather tight from Sunday's long run. I could use the break.

Since I started this training program, I've run 318.98 miles. Oh, wait, I'm in Kentucky. So, let me restate that: Since I started this training program, I've RAN 318.98 miles. Folks in this part of the country struggle mightily with the past perfect.

18 miles this Sunday. Hopefully it'll be cooler than it was this past Sunday (90+ degrees).

Tim McGraw, Kip Winger and I, Oh My!

With my 17 mile run today, I joined some pretty prestigious company. While I've always felt a certain kinship with Kip, he of the great hair band Winger and Tim McGraw, he of, well, the sappy, condescending, manipulative machine that is modern American country music, today I officially cemented that connection. 17 is not a number to be taken lightly. It has inspired no fewer than two terrible Billboard hits. That trickster age that has lured so many great men (I can only assume Winger and McGraw are among them) into taking the jail bait. As McGraw, in all of his wisdom, points out, "seventeen only comes once in a lifetime." It's a big number. A special number. And I am proud to have reached it today. 9.2 more to go (miles that is, everyone knows women lose all of their luster upon reaching 18).

Today's run followed the first 8.5 miles of the course of the Cherokee Road Runner's Louisville Marathon. Or, at least the route they link to on their web site 2008 Louisville Marathon Course Map. Strangely, this seems to be the course that the Derby Festival Marathon follows, not riverside course that the CRR Louisville Marathon has traditionally followed. Perhaps some has their wires crossed?

Yesterday's 8-miler was a quick and jaunty one along the Riverwalk. I was nearly knocked into the river by a shirtless man on a motorcycle who was negotiating the 6-7 foot wide trails at 35 miles per hour. A fantasy involving a large rock, the man's helmet-less head and a floating corpse propelled me forward and allowed me to finish with a pace of 7:00. I find that over-the-top anger and (imagined) disproportionate responses always increases my pace. But seriously, the guy was a reckless bastard and really could have killed someone and it almost definitely would not have been him. In all likelihood, it would be some gifted, young, inspiring athlete who had overcome some obscure disease acquired during his or her desperate flight from some war-torn country.

I'll conclude this with a bit from Heather Havrilesky that eloquently skewers Bob Costas's smug, disproportionate response to Usain Bolt's 100m finish

Bolt enjoys joking around with his competitors. One of his shoes was untied when he ran the 100-meter race. His technique is described as sloppy and amateurish. He polished off a bunch of Chicken McNuggets right before the race. He's that kind of a guy. He's 21 years old, for Chrissakes! He became the fastest man on earth by a long shot, breaking his own record, while every other contender huffed and puffed along several feet behind him. How would anyone dare to claim that he owed it to the fans to run even faster, or that he disrespected them by celebrating a little early? What in the world is Costas, space alien from Planet Honky, talking about? Why should Bolt care about class, of all provincial, bourgeois values? What the hell is class, anyway, but some arbitrary code that soulless, high-capitalist professional robots live by?

Heat-Related Illness

According to The American Red Cross, heat-related illnesses (HRI) include (but are not necessarily limited to) heat exhaustion, heat stroke and heat cramps. I'm sure there are more. Is death an illness? What is it called when one overindulges oneself with water and expires? Certainly, heat-related illnesses are not maladies with which one would be wise to trifle.

Today, I trifled with heat exhaustion. Or at least experienced some of the less severe hallmarks of heat-related illnes. For the past 3 weeks, the weather in Louisville has been unseasonably great. The temperature has stayed below 90 and the humidity has been below 30%. However, today's high temperature reached 93. In this heat, I ran 8 miles along the river.

After a long stretch of direct sun, I began to feel a bit dizzy and weak. My head began to hurt a bit. And I began to notice some dryness in the throat. It occurred to me that I was likely experiencing heat-related illness. Was it chronic? Perhaps genetic? Was it a result of irresponsible behavior in the wilder days of my youth? Or was it related to exerting myself in the hot sun? There's certainly no way to find out. My guess is that it's a genetic illness. Likely paternal. I believe my father once experienced a similar heat-related illness while running a half marathon.

As I mentioned before, HRI is a serious matter. And, it turns out, it can be avoided. No one knows how, but it can. The Red Cross has a few suggestions for treatment:

For heat cramps or heat exhaustion: Get the person to a cooler place and have him or her rest in a comfortable position. If the person is fully awake and alert, give a half glass of cool water every 15 minutes. Do not let him or her drink too quickly. Do not give liquids with alcohol or caffeine in them, as they can make conditions worse. Remove or loosen tight clothing and apply cool, wet cloths such as towels or wet sheets. Call 9-1-1 or the local emergency number if the person refuses water, vomits or loses consciousness.

For heat stroke: Heat stroke is a life-threatening situation! Help is needed fast. Call 9-1-1 or your local EMS number. Move the person to a cooler place. Quickly cool the body. Wrap wet sheets around the body and fan it. If you have ice packs or cold packs, wrap them in a cloth and place them on each of the victim's wrists and ankles, in the armpits and on the neck to cool the large blood vessels. (Do not use rubbing alcohol because it closes the skin's pores and prevents heat loss.) Watch for signals of breathing problems and make sure the airway is clear. Keep the person lying down.

Oh, and the run went well once I treated my HRI by applying (conservatively) water at my namesake park.

44 Runs

According to my training log, today was my 44th run since I turned 30 (June 14th). Furthermore, according to the same log, I've met my scheduled weekly mileage each week since. This whole goal-setting thing seems to be working out alright. Over 240 miles logged since the beginning of June. About 350 left.

This Hal Higdon training program is really quite good. Each long run seems to be the perfect distance, never too much. Again, I would heartily recommend Hal Higdon to anyone looking for a marathon training program.

This being a regression week, I was scheduled to run 5 miles today, but accidentally ran 7 instead. I felt good the whole time, so hopefully there will be no ill effects. Pace was under 7:30. Yesterday's run was 4 miles at a pace under 7:30.

Since I've been back in Louisville, my pace has quickened significantly (I've re-calibrated the Nike Plus several times to make sure). I'm not sure which factors are contributing to the speed, but my guess is that it has something to do with moderating antioxidant intake. While on Cape Cod, I drank wine nightly. Since I've been back in Louisville, I've barely touched the stuff. As beautiful as the tip of Cape Cod is, running in Louisville really is better. The parks are just amazing.

On Monday, I took the road bike out on the Louisville Riverwalk from downtown to Shawnee Park and out Southwestern/Algonquin Parkway a few miles. Although the trail isn't terribly well maintained in places, the Riverwalk is pretty good. A stretch of a mile or two through the woods along the Ohio River was cool, fast and fun. Great ride. Shawnee Park has a great deal of potential. One can almost see Olmstead's vision over a hundred years later.

You Don't Miss Your Water...

...until your well runs dry. Or until you're well into your 14th mile of a 15 mile run. I planned my route such that there would be plenty of water stops, however, I failed to account for the final 2.5 miles in the hot sun. I managed to finish, but drank about 3 liters of water as soon as I got home.

At the halfway point today, I decided to consume a PowerBar brand Vanilla gel packet. The calories were appreciated, but the experience was something other than pleasant. I'm having trouble thinking of anything less refreshing than a mouthful of cake icing during a long run, but this is exactly what the Vanilla goo tasted and felt like. Avoid the vanilla. The coffee stuff is much better.

Managed to complete 15 miles at a 7:45 pace (including water breaks).

Yesterday's activities included an early morning 7-miler and a 30 mile bike ride out along the Ohio River in eastern Jefferson County and Oldham County.

On Friday, my off day, I took the new road bike out to test the commute to IUS in New Albany. Not a terrible commute, but not particularly pleasant. Eastern Boulevard is not the most bike friendly street. Nor is the 2nd Street Bridge. However, it only takes about 35 minutes from my door to campus, so biking is a viable option.

Boolean Dissonance

It seems that among the most perplexing puzzles to humans are those that involve a single variable with only two possible values. Yes versus no. On versus off. Right versus left. Seems simple. It is. But, unfortunately, it seems that we humans struggle mightily with boolean logic. However, one can take comfort in the fact that given only two options and a large enough sample, the values will be distributed roughly equally. That is, if one asks a sufficiently large group of people a random, obscure question (e.g., do oxen prefer one piece bathing suits?), one will find that the number of yes responses is pretty close to the number of no responses.

Applying this to running, it would seem that, given that there are only two sides to a road, runners will distribute themselves fairly evenly along the two sides. It is well known that, in the absence of sidewalks, pedestrians are supposed to travel in the roadway against traffic. That is, runners should run in the direction of oncoming traffic such that they can see the oncoming vehicles and oncoming drivers can see them. This is basic. Makes perfect sense.

However, in an informal survey conducted over the past week while running throughout Cherokee and Seneca Parks in Louisville, KY, I've found that runners following the rules only comprise about 30% of pedestrians. An overwhelming majority tend to travel with traffic, endangering themselves and others.

Furthermore, Cherokee Park contains a paved loop that is divided into two lanes, one for vehicles (one way) and the other for recreational use. That is, there is a one-way road for cars and a sidewalk for pedestrians (and bikers if they're inclined). Since this recreational lane is closed to vehicle traffic, the standard sidewalk rules apply. One should stay to one's right except when passing. Given that 70% of runners travel the wrong way in traffic, one would think that they would continue to travel the wrong way in recreational lanes (except, in this case, the wrong way would be the right way). However, this is not the case. Instead, the ratio reverses. In both cases, roughly 70% of pedestrians consistently make the wrong choice. How is this possible? This simple problem defies simple explanation.

So, in summary, here are the simple rules of the road:

* In the absence of a pedestrian only lane (sidewalk), pedestrians should travel against traffic such that they can see oncoming traffic and oncoming drivers can see them

* In the presence of a pedestrian only lane (sidewalk), pedestrians should travel to their right, except when passing.

I'm sure Malcolm Gladwell or Steven Levitt would have a novel explanation for this phenomenon, but it's beyond me. If anyone is reading this and finds that they're a pedestrian who consistently makes the wrong choices, please enlighten me.

7.2 miles today.

Vulnerable Roadway Users

While running through downtown Louisville this afternoon (during rush hour), I noted several disturbing instances of reckless driving. I saw two drivers disregard red lights and speed through intersections. I saw a woman with a cellphone in one hand and a cigarette in the other turn right on red (with a "no right on red" sign present) - presumably steering with her knees - without bothering to look for pedestrians in the crosswalk (if she had, she would have noticed me).

Had any of these reckless drivers been observed by police officers, they would have been pulled over and cited for these traffic violations. Had a police officer observed any of these reckless drivers committing the same offense and killing a pedestrian or biker while in the process, they would have received only the same citation. As the law is currently written, there is no additional penalty for killing a vulnerable roadway user with a car. If the driver is intoxicated, then he or she is a murderer. If he or she is not intoxicated, then he or she is merely a corpse-making reckless driver who has to pay a small fine.

As a person who uses the state of Kentucky's roadways, often without the encumbrance of a hulking hunk of metal, I feel it is important that the state provide protection for roadway users who do not operate automobiles.

Oregon has already passed a bill protecting vulnerable roadway users (House Bill 3314). Michigan has two proposed bills before congress.

For more info on biking safety in Louisville, check out Bicycling For Louisville, a local bicycle advocacy group.

Oh, and I managed to survive today's 4-miler, in spite of the recklessness of the aforementioned drivers.

Updated 08/06/08 - Boston's Bike Lanes Nearly Set for Riders. Glad to see Boston is moving in the right direction.

Eating and Running

I've enjoyed eating for over 30 years. I've enjoyed running for the better part of 10 years (off and on). I guess one could call these passions. Or at least hobbies. Still, in 10 years of simultaneously engaging in both, I have never found it necessary to mix the two. It never occurred to me that one might need to eat while running, or run while eating. That is until I became noticeably hungry about 9 miles into today's 14-miler. I'm not a person who often experiences physiological hunger. I often crave certain foodstuffs and do eat routinely, but I've rarely known the sensation of raw hunger. I knew it today after completing a particularly long hill in the 90 degree sun.

Fortunately, I was less than a mile from my sister's house. Upon arriving there, I was greeted by a naked 2-year-old bearing a large Tupperware container of what appeared to be Froot Loops [sic]. Actually, come to think of it, they were not loops, though they were certainly composed of Froot [sic]. I was not offered any Froot by the naked toddler. I did, however, help myself to a Kashi TLC granola bar. I don't remember how it tasted as I ate it in about 3 bites. In hindsight, I realized that this is really a 7-8 bite bar. But, I needed calories. And quick. After being told about 200 times by a naked toddler "I go with you", I continued on my way (unaccompanied), finishing the final 5 miles of the run.

Miraculously, the granola bar worked wonders. No cramps. No stomach distress. Just a noticeable increase in energy. I finished the run with a pace well under 8:00 (excluding the pit stop, which is cheating, I know).

So, for all the many readers out there who are wondering if it is okay to mix running and eating: It is! You probably won't die. You likely won't develop cramps. You will feel better and stronger (assuming you eat the right things. Don't eat a knife or a bomb or even Froot Loops). In fact, if you're running a significant distance, your body will almost definitely require some solid fuel while running.

My next adventure in running and eating will likely involve the goo, or the gel or whatever that not-solid-not-liquid energy source is called. That and Twizzlers. I think the 2-year-old would approve of the Twizzlers.

Seven Mile Morning

Today was my first run of the summer in Louisville, KY. The weather is quite a bit less pleasant than that of outer Cape Cod. However, there was a spring in my step that had been missing for nearly a month. The heat may have been a factor, but it may have had something to do with not having had any wine the day before.

Louisville is really a pretty good running town. Granted, an apparent majority of the drivers are reckless, oblivious, ignorant and possess an outright disdain towards runners and bikers (who do these non-drivers think they are? streets are for rotund Republicans in SUVs!). Nevertheless, the parks are beautiful.

Cherokee Park, one of the jewels in Louisville's crown of Olmstead Parks, was designed by none other than F.L. Olmstead - yes, he of New York's Central Park fame. Boasting a 2.4 mile paved loop divided into two lanes, one for one-way vehicular use and one for recreational use only, Cherokee is a great place to train. Hills, flats, trails, creeks, bubblers, the park has a little bit of everything. It's been over 10 years since I've taken advantage of them, but there used to be a nice network of single track trails within the park as well. As soon as my 29er ships in, I'll take it out to see how things stand.

This morning's 7 miles melted away briskly down Broadway, past Cave Hill Cemetery along Cherokee Parkway and a portion of the 2.4 mile loop. I felt like the run was pretty fast, but was amazed to find Nike Plus reporting a pace of 7:26 for the run. The mileage matches up with google maps and the timing checks out with my watch, so I guess I ran pretty fast. Definitely a personal best for a 7-miler.

Looking forward to tomorrow's 14-miler.

Long Commute

Yesterday's commute started in Provincetown and involved a boat to Boston, a bus to South Station, a subway train to Cambridge (for lunch), a commuter train to Providence, a cab to Providence's T.F. Green Airport, a nice, new Embraer jet to Charlotte, then an old crusty, rickety, winged rickshaw from Charlotte to Louisville. Before it all started, there was a 4-miler. Oh, and after I got back at 1am, after a 4 hour delay in Charlotte, there was a quick bike ride around the apartment. So, I pretty much covered the spectrum of intermodal transportation yesterday. Did I miss anything?

As far as airports go, Charlotte's Douglass International is pretty good. However, all of the businesses within close promptly at 10pm. Southerners may seem nice, but you don't want to get caught loitering around one of their airport storefronts in the minutes directly proceeding closing time. They become jackals. It's scary. The word saccharine comes to mind.

In any case, there's a wine bar in the airport that showcases wines from North Carolina's Yadkin Valley. One can do a white or red tasting flight, enjoy a glass or purchase wine to take home. They're generous enough to provide to go cups upon closing time as well. I can't say I've had much in the way of North Carolina wines. I did a red flight and found most of the wines to be tepid and bland. Not sure why one would want to grow Sangiovese in North Carolina, but, if you're thinking of it, I'd strongly advise against it. Call Welch's. Ask them for a jug of grape juice instead. The flavor profiles will be identical.

Strangely, the only red wine I found at all palatable was a 2005 Pinot Noir ($20 from Shelton Vineyards). Unlike the other varietals I sampled, it actually tasted of the grape from which it was made. There was the requisite berry flavor, but with pretty strong earthy undertones. Not too much body. Tasteful oak treament. Good acidity. Naturally, this was the wine that the woman behind the bar was discouraging. People apparently don't like it. Not enough fruit, they lament. Maybe because it doesn't taste like Welch's. I thought it was an impressive showing from a wine region most people (including myself) have never heard of.

Oh, and, as I mentioned several paragraphs ago, I did get in a 4-miler around 6 yesterday morning. My last run in Provincetown was punctuated by a chillingly pleasant last swim in Provincetown harbor. There is no better way to stretch after a run than floating around in a cool harbor.

7 miles Wednesday night as well. Pretty uneventful run. Dusk running is nice in the summer if one can avoid mosquitoes and myopic motorists.