Repeats

After taking yesterday off (I was supposed to run 3 "easy" miles), I decided opted to go through with today's scheduled repeats. While Tuesday's repeats were 4 x 400m at 5k pace, today's were 3 x 1 mile at marathon pace. I really am not quite sure about those paces, but used my own subjective, exertion level scale.

For completing my first marathon, I've decided to reward myself with some sort of device to replace my Nike Plus. My training will definitely benefit from the feedback and motivation. I had been considering a GPS/heart rate watch from Timex, but I've now settled on the Forerunner 305 from Garmin. It's rather large for a wrist watch, but can double as a bike computer and is apparently quite accurate.

Tomorrow is a rest day, but I may run a few "easy" miles or hop on the bike.

Back On The Horse

So, I've decided to continue this blog. You're welcome, dear reader(s).

After taking it rather easy during 0 week (immediately following the marathon), I've hit the road again with the goal of running another marathon in the spring. Additionally, I'm determined to finish in under 3:20. This is an ambitious goal. And it will be extra hard for a person who is carrying around many extra pounds of fat. However, it'll keep me motivated.

0 week was surprisingly painless. There was tightness and soreness on Monday and Tuesday. Stairs were a struggle. By Thursday, I felt fine. I am fairly insensitive to aches and pains, so there was likely some low-level pain that I was ignoring. Still, by Friday, I was anxious to tie on the old jogging shoes to see how my legs held up. A light, 2-miler proved invigorating and rather painless.

The weekend saw a couple more light runs: 3 on Saturday and 5 on Sunday. Nothing strenuous. No pain at all. This Hal Higdon guy sure seems to know what he's talking about.

I've now entered HH's Post-Marathon Recovery Guide Week 1. Having moved myself into the "Advanced" bracket, I will now be introducing speed work, including tempo runs and repeats. Thanks to Google maps, I have been able to mark off a nice 400m track right along the river. After a 1.1 mile warm-up jog from home to the river, I can stretch, run the repeats, then warm-down on the 1.1 mile jog back.

I may be jumping the gun a bit with the advanced training, but I've identified a real need for goal setting and would be rather bored with another similar 18 week program. The introduction of speedwork will make the whole routine more exciting and, hopefully, satiate any competitive drive I might develop.

In any case, today's run included the 1.1 warm-up jog, then 4 x 400m repeats along the river, each book ending a 3-5 minute slow jog or walk. A couple of young skateboarders and a police officer (parked in his car and intermittently napping and eating) watched me as I ran, then walked, then ran, then walked. I had not realized that my self-classification as an advanced runner would bring with it my first fans, but I was delighted to have them. I'm pretty sure the skateboarders snapped some iphone video footage of me and I will undoubtedly show up on youtube as "fat, running douche bag with orange-tinted sunglasses who runs in circles, narrowly missing a jig-lift crane. twice." Stay tuned for that.

I'm hoping to schedule a race for the end of week 4 of the post marathon program. And will definitely try to do a turkey trot like thing on Thanksgiving morning (in order to grant myself license to gorge later in the day - while watching "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" for the thirtieth time in 2 days and listening to Guaraldi's holiday record - and not feel bad about it).

Just Another Long Run

First off, my condolences to EP and family who lost a matriarch this past week. Having experienced a similar loss 10 years ago, I can say with a great deal of certainty that, although a person may be corporeally inaccessible, her influence and wisdom tend to exhibit an incalculably long half life.

Yesterday's long run covered roughly 26 miles, 385 yards, which qualified as my longest run ever. The pre-run dinner I described in my past post proved to be mildly disastrous. Lesson to any reader who may be considering a marathon: avoid the turkey sausage on the eve of a marathon. There are times in which it is appropriate to experiment with wild fowl forcemeat. The night before a marathon is not of these times.

Following is a synopsis of the race day:

1. 6:15: Awoke, drank two large glasses of water and prepared a bowl of oatmeal


2. 6:25: Waited near the bathroom for nature to run its course


3. 6:35: Waited longer (see 2) before eating oatmeal


4. 6:50: Upon waiting an inordinate amount of time, I decided to scrap the oatmeal and head out to find some coffee. Desperate times call for desperate measures. And these times were "McDonald's Desperate"


5. 7:05: Ordered pancakes, orange juice and black coffee at McDonald's. Enjoyed the pancakes alongside a rag tag bunch of hobos, bindlestiffs and ragamuffins (comrades of whom would make an appearance later in the day)


6. 7:20: No movement on the natural front. Panic was starting to set in. Departed McDonald's to head to race site


7. 7:35: Arrived at race site, Louisville's Water Tower on the Ohio River. Folks were wildly negotiating adjacent fields to illegally park and avoid having to walk any distance at all. Apparently, as a force of habit, they were seeking the prime spot at the Walmart parking lot. Ironically, each of these lazy fucks was about to run/walk either 13.1 or 26.2 miles. Have I mentioned that I harbor less-than-pleasant feelings about the mental and physical habits of people in these parts (even those who are active enough to participate in a foot race)?


8. 7:40: Avoided the mess of illegal parkers and found a parking spot at Cox park (pronounced, inexplicably as COCKSIZ park) about 1/2 mile from the race site


9. 7:50: Arrived at starting line. Still waiting for some movement (see 2)


10. 8:10: Someone fires a gun. People start running. I follow


11. 8:15: First accessible bathroom (at Cocksiz Park) becomes visible. At this point, I feel a significant pressure change within my abdomen. Terrible gears start to turn. An intestinal doomsday machine has been irreversibly engaged. Forces beyond my comprehension are set into action. I make a bee line to the bathroom and enter the last stall on the right, thinking (like the parking situation earlier) that no one will think to approach the remotest spot. Bizarrely, I was wrong


12. 8:20: (Discontinue reading if you are uncomfortable with the human I/O process or thermodynamics) Ever heard of a water hammer? Before I met my wife, who once worked with nuke-uh-lur power plant cooling systems, I had not. Actually, the more general term is fluid hammer. In short, a fluid hammer is a pressure surge that occurs when moving fluid experiences a sudden change in momentum, like when a dam breaks. I become physically acquainted with the phenomenon while huddling in the last stall on the right. Unfortunately, so did a constant parade of fellow runners. Since the stall was missing a lock, no fewer than 5 men became acquainted with the concept of the fluid hammer. I lost ~ 5 minutes in that bathroom. Things were getting off to a great start
13. 8:25: After that lesson in thermodynamics, I got back out on the course and continued on, feeling somewhat relieved. At that point, I was stuck in a large crowd of walkers and slow runners. I focused my energy on passing the herd.
14. 8:55: As I slowly put the walkers and slow runner behind me, my attention was again shifted to my gut, where more dark machinations were taking place. Since I was very familiar with much of the course, I determined that the river front park, right around mile 6, would offer a bank of public restrooms. I set my sights on mile 6 and kept on keeping.
15. 9:05: As I arrived at the river front park, I veered off course to the bank of restrooms. Unfortunately these were all locked. In front of them, though, was a cache of porto-o-lets, or port-o-johns, or plexi-johns or plastic shitters that had been freshly installed to serve the participants in the Hunger Walk (an event to take place downtown later in the day). While I was disappointed to be forced to enter a johnny-house, I was somewhat delighted to find that I was the first to enjoy its amenities since its installation. I ratcheted up the volume on my ipod and tuned out the other details of my visit. However, I began to hear the distinct sounds of voices coming from just behind me. I paused the iPod and heard male voices that seemed to be coming from inside the crap-o-let septic tank, or worse, inside my own septic tank. Upon closer examination, I determined that the voices were in fact narrating the goings on inside the johnny cabin. After several unpleasant minutes, I emerged to find 3 tramps staning just outside, about 4 yards away. They were laughingly uproariously. As I ran past, they implored me to discontinue my run. Clearly, they were concerned with my well-being, but I was not to be deterred.
16. 10:05: From the debacle at the riverfront to the half-way point, I passed 0 more toilets, so I was forced to endure the wrath of the turkey sauasage. Although the pain was waning, it was still clear that the evil had not yet worked its way out. I knew that I would soon be passing through Chikasaw Park and that the grounds hosted a fine, early 20th century carriage house that had been converted into a bathroom. Fortunately, no other runners knew about this landmark. And more surprisingly, it seemed bereft of Okies and nogoodniks. It was at this place where I finally exorcised the demons.
    
17. 10:15: With my stomach feeling better and a pocketful of gels and Sharkies, I marched on towards the finish and focused on replenishing any energy spent through metabolism or exorcism.
18. 10:45: At about the 19 mile check point, I was approached by a young man who was bounding along at a good clip. We began to chat a bit and matched pace for about 3 miles. After about a mile of running together, it occurred to me that this young man's name could only be Chris. Upon parting ways at mile 23, I extended my hand and said something like "good to meet you Chris and good luck with the final 3 miles, I'm going to go ahead to see if I can find a finish line somewhere." To which he responded, with a puzzled look, how did you know my name was "Chris?" And it was a good question. I think the evil that had taken hold of me earlier in the morning left me with a bit of clairvoyance.
    
19. 11:20: At the 23 mile check point, I decided to pick up the pace a bit. I knew I wasn't going to come anywhere close to my goal of 3:20, but knew I had something left in the tank (thanks to 2 gels and a pouch of sharkies).
    
20. 11:35: As I approached the 25 mile checkpoint, the course grew lonely. There was an older man (probably in his 50s) about 30 yards ahead, but I was unable to catch him at first. Still, I dug in and accellerated a bit. The man at the final fluid station handed me a water and a cup of sports drink. I attempted to slow to deposit the cup and bottle in a garbage bags, but my legs sort of swayed uncontrollably and I nearly lost my footing. The man near the garbage bag instructed me to focus on getting to the finish line. I heeded his advice.
21. 11:40: I began passing a few more folks in the final half mile. A young woman smiled and waved and wished me luck, to which I responded "Same, um, uh...to luck to you too," which makes little sense , but hopefully expressed my enthusiasm for her potential finish.
    
22. 11:44: As the finish line drew near, I fought the dull pain in my quadriceps and bounded down the slight incline towards the finishing chute. Upon passing the line, a man appeared asking for the microchip strapped onto my ankle. As I bent down to detach it, he yelped, imploring me to stand and allow him to do it. As I nearly buckled upon standing back up, I realized that his advice was sensible.
    

So, that was about it. An eventful morning. I milled about after the race for a bit. I cheered on the Chris fellow, ate a banana, drank some water, Heed (the official energy drink of the race, which tastes like water filtered through vanilla cake icing)and Jackson's Organic coffee, then began the long walk to my car. While my legs were a bit burny and sore, the walk was a good stretching opportunity.

The rest of the day was pleasant and involved a brunch at Lynn's Paradise Cafe (biscuits and gravy and grits) and a 3 hour nap.

Today (the day after) has been fine as well. I'm struggling a bit with stairs, getting in and out of chairs. However, each pain response is accompanied by a tinge of pride for having run 26.2 miles.

I've already started to plan out my 0-week plan, my 4-week recovery plan and my next marathon. Mentally, I'm ready to go. On Saturday, 25 April 2009, I plan to run the Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon in under 3 hours and 20 minutes. It's an ambitious goal, but I plan to take advantage of hill work, tempo workouts, fartleks, interval training and, hopefully, some white magic.

The Final Countdown

9 hours until the marathon. At this point, I'm really hoping to just finish the race as all that is left now is the dotting of i's and crossing of t's. Hopefully, my training will prove sufficient to get me through the entire race. I'll know soon enough.

I enjoyed a large dinner consisting of angel hair pasta with sauteed squash and roasted sweet potatoes. Hopefully I won't regret that tomorrow morning.

My breakfast plans are not yet confirmed, but will likely involve some toast, maybe a granola bar, a handful of Crispix? Not really sure how I'll eat as I am sure my stomach will be a bit nervous (being unaccustomed to being awake at 6:30am).

I'll be bringing along several gels, some energy gummies and some Jelly Belly Sport Beans to be downed 30 minutes or so before the race.

So, this is it. I'll check back in if I survive the race.

Change of Course

The 2008 Louisville Marathon has officially changed course. I have no idea why, but I'm guessing it has something to do with an inability to acquire permits to shut down Third St. No big deal. The new course is the old course. Aside from not passing through Iroqouis Park, this route is better:



PS: No run today. 2 miles tomorrow. I just polished off 1/3 of a thing of candy beans. I'm beginning to think that the beans were a bad idea.

Drama Queens

The title of this post refers to baseball's favorite team: The Boston Red Sox. The Sox of this millenia seem to have a way of backing themselves into a corner during the ALCS. This year is no exception. I had held out some hope that Daisuke would get them back on track. Not so much. I gave up on the game by the third inning.

Imagine my surprise when, after having given up on the 2008 Red Sox, I got into my car to hear the radio announce that the game was tied 7-7 in the bottom of the ninth. I spent the next 20 minutes or so driving around, eating candy beans and waiting for the 10th, so the B.J. Upton and Evan Longoria could go back-to-back and end the season for Boston. Strangely, J.D. Drew managed to end the game in regulation with a line drive that scored Kevin Youkilis. There is hope again in Boston. And if the past two championships are any indication, this is exactly where The Sox like to be (backed up against a wall in the ALCS).

3 miles at the crisp gloaming this eve. 2 more miles on Saturday, then 26.2 on Sunday. I had been worrying that the heat would be a problem on race day. Fortunately, autumn temperatures have finally descended upon us. In fact, I enjoyed my first campfire (campless) of the season this night.

Sox In Trouble

Top of the sixth inning in game 4 of the ALCS. Rays are up 9-1 and will likely continue to pile on the runs. Apparently, starting pitching counts. Statistically, Tim Wakefield is a reliable pitcher, however, he doesn't seem to perform well on national television. Perhaps that's an understatement. Wakefield was awful tonight. He started off strong with a strikeout, but then proceeded to issue a walk, then back-to-back home runs. The trend continued.

So, unless the Red Sox have another miraculous, '04-like or '07-like ALCS run in them, Tampa Bay will continue on to The World Series. This Rays team is stunningly good.

Today's run was a quick 4.4-miler. It occurred to me, while running, that the disappearance of my motivation corresponded with the failure of the Nike Plus. It's hard to overstate the awesomeness of Nike Plus. I miss it terribly. Unfortunately, I won't get it back until I spring for a new iPod. I've tried everything with the current iPod, but it just won't communicate with the sensor.

Pasta with freshly roasted green chile, sauteed eggplant and zucchini for dinner. I'm going to focus on carbohydrates and vegetables for the rest of the week. Hopefully, I'll get my glycogen levels to where they need to be in time for the race.

The Real Taper Begins

Today's run covered 11 miles, the last run of a significant distance before the race. With an average temperature of 85 degrees, conditions were not ideal for today's run. Having overindulged a bit at yesterday's wedding did not help matters. However, I managed to compete the run in a fairly respectable amount of time. The Riverwalk was abuzz with revelers, which made the run a bit more fun.

I'm beginning to think that an 18 week conditioning program is too long. I feel as if my condition peaked a few weeks ago. At least, my motivation peaked a few weeks ago. At this point, I'm really itching to run the marathon. Perhaps I should have scheduled a half marathon to get the competitive juices flowing. Those wiser than I have apparently had luck with that strategy. Or is it a tactic?

A 20 lb. box of Hatch green chiles showed up this weekend. 15 lbs. of them have been roasted, packaged and are queuing up before the freezer. Once they cool, they'll be placed in the freezer to be called upon throughout the year. There are few edible things that don't benefit from the addition of the Hatch green chile. Although it's late (1am), the house (and likely the entire building) is filled with the glorious, autumnal scent of roasted, caramelized chile skin. I think I'm going to have to go whip something up. Something carb-y. I believe it's time that I start introducing more solid carbs into the diet.

Slacking Off a Week Before a Marathon

Thursday's run was uneventful. 4 miles. Easy.

Today's run was supposed to be a 3-miler. However, due to a day-long wedding of a friend, I missed my opportunity to run. I did, however, make up for it by drinking beer and overeating, which is, more or less, the same as running 3 miles. Not long ago, 3 miles would have seemed somewhat daunting. Now, I could go skip and jump 3 miles without breaking a sweat (that's not to say I wouldn't break anything - an ankle or a leg could easily be snapped by bounding about recklessly).

The marathon is about 173 hours away. I really need to plan out my in-flight meals for the occasion. If there's one area in which I've really fallen behind so far, it's energy and water intake while running. I learned, in my last long run before the race, that neglecting these needs can be a real deal breaker. My plan, as of now, is to bring along 4 or 5 gu products to eat/slurp/drink during the second half of the run. There will be water and sports drink stations along the course, but I don't think there will be gu kiosks.

This should be a map I charted (using mapmyrun.com) of the almost official race course:

4.44 Miles and a Touch of Fall

The rains came yesterday at about the time that another autumn heat wave was supposed to arrive and elevate the air temperature to the mid 80's. Fortunately, the rain won the race and kept the temperature down in the mid-to-low 70's. So, I took advantage of the pleasant (although still too warm) temperature and ran 4.44 miles this afternoon. I followed a route that starts on the street outside of my building and heads straight for the river. The following Louisville Landmarks can be enjoyed while running this quick route:

• University of Louisville Hospital and The J.G. Brown Cancer Center - eyesores architecturally, but valuable institutionally


• Louisville Slugger Field - home of The Fighting, Flying, Louisville River Bats of AAA Baseball. Farm team of the always bad Cincinnati Reds. Nice park that harkens back to the days when masons built ballparks. The team was actually really good this year. Probably could have given their AAAA bretheren a run for their money


• Riverfront Park and The Great Lawn - Louisville's attempt to reclaim the downtown waterfront from the utter lack of good judgment exhibited by city planners who decided to adorn the river with an ugly interstate (I64). The attempt was actually quite successful. People use the park. Just this afternoon, I saw a couple of groups of kids playing ultimate frisbee and a gentleman manning upwards of 12 fishing poles.


• The Belle of Louisville and Spirit of Jefferson Steamboats - The Belle has been a city-owned treasure for years now. Originally christened The Idlewild, she used to offer ferry service between Memphis, TN and West Memphis, AR, presumably to provide passage for satanic, ritual murderers escaping the holy backwaters of West Memphis. She came to Louisville in 1931 and offered service between downtown and Fontaine Ferry Park, an old amusement park in Portland. Now, in her golden years, The Belle hosts dinner cruises and daily calliope concerts. The Spirit of Jefferson also hosts lunch and dinner cruises and was put in place to address Louisville's unquenchable thirst for steamboat revelry.


• Those crazy, giant inflatable white moneys - unfortunately, the aforementioned monkeys have disappeared. They had been stationed just south of Sixth St. and River Road. No one knows why they were there. One popular theory suggest that they are migratory, inflatable monkeys who travel along the Ohio who, upon finding the Falls of The Ohio impassable, decided to dock in downtown Louisville. Another rumor is that they were tragically deflated. In any case, everyone agrees that they are missed and are welcome back at anytime.

4.8 Miles

Tonight's run was supposed to cover 4 miles. Instead, I pushed it to nearly 5 to prove a point:

While running after dark, I typically follow the loop at Seneca Park. The loop contains a paved recreation track that spans about 12 feet in width and covers 1.2 miles. Without fail, there are always several people engaged in recreation who insist on occupying the side of the track on their left in spite of the fact that everyone learns at an early age that one travels to one's right and passes on one's left. These must be the same people who, as drivers, travel in the left-handed lane bereft of intention to pass. There is no gentle way to state this: these people are either mentally defective, inconsiderate or both.

In any case, tonight, there was a quasi speed walker occupying the wrong side of the track. Unfortunately, she was traveling in the same direction I was, so I would have to stop and turn around in order to inform her that she's an idiot. Although I was disinclined to slow down, I realized that, if I switched directions, I could confront the demon head-on. So, after completing my 3rd circuit, I turned around to run my 4th in the opposite direction.

A satisfying game of chicken was almost certain. My pace quickened, as did my pulse. My rough calculations placed the point of confrontation just after the 2nd turn. As I accelerated through the 2nd turn, I saw a figure in the distance (keep in mind that, while the track is illuminated, the lights are spaced far apart). I trained my eyes on the figure, hugged the inside of the track (my right side) and sprinted towards the figure. As the figure drew closer, I noticed that it was a child. A lone child, jogging madly down the track on his right-hand side. A child no older than 12 or 13, jogging alone at night and observing convention by traveling on his right. I was moved to offer a high-five, but realized that it was dark and he was young (where were his parents?) and, given that he was well-trained enough to run on the proper side of the track, I wasn't prepared to test his preparedness with a can of mace. In any case, the game of chicken never materialized. The offending woman finished her power walk before our showdown. I did manage to shoot a disapproving glance in her direction as she sped off (likely in the wrong lane).

I believe I've mentioned this before, but I will reiterate it again here: while running, nothing motivates me more than a healthy dose of injustice or ignorance of commonly accepted rules and conventions. As much as I dislike the offending woman, I must thank her for inspiring me to finish my run strongly. Still, I do hope she gets her comeuppance, or is at least made to see the error of her wicked ways.

More Baseball

2 outs in the bottom 8th in game 4 of ALDS...

The Sox are not going to win this series for one reason: Scot Shields.

Oh, and Francona made a potentially series-changing blunder by leaving Masterson in to face Torii Hunter. He absolutely should have had Papelbon up and ready. I know they've been leaning on him, but if they don't, they have to go back to LA of Anaheim for a game 5. Taking 3 of 3 in a week from LA in Anaheim is not likely. At the very least, he should have had Delcarmen come in after that wild pitch snafu.

In any case, the tide has turned. I'm expecting a game 5 blowout in favor of LA of Anaheim (of Los Angeles).

This game isn't over yet, but I'm not expecting much. The Sox aren't hitting very well at Fenway. Tito won't take out Masterson...


Update: top of the 8th

The Sox just caught a very lucky break: after a leadoff double (off, of all people, Masterson) and a sac bunt, Varitek caught Reggie Willits (who, for the record, is a white guy) going on a mis-executed suicide squeeze. Shortly, thereafter, a groundout got The Sox out of trouble. Onto the bottom of the 9th...


Update: bottom of the 9th
Shields is going to burn through this lineup. They can't touch him. There's not a single killer in this lineup right now. Who wouldn't trade their first-born for Manny right now?

Oh Snap! Jason Bay. That's who you trade for Manny...And then you get Jed Lowrie to single him home.

I should know better - the new Red Sox don't choke.

No run today, but yesterday's 12-miler was just fine. I waited until the early evening in hopes that the temperature would drop. By the half-way point, it had cooled down to the mid 70's, which provided for a pleasant jaunt.

On Baseball

For the second straight year, the National League Divisional Series have been a total snore. Both series were decided within an inning.

The Cubs were hugely disappointing. When faced with the unexplainable, people tend to invent superstition (see: the entire history of mythology). The curse of the goat, while silly, makes as much sense as magic men, immaculate conceptions, magic eyewear and alien homunculi. Many folks on Chicago's north side will be looking to the goat to explain the Cubs collapse. Personally, I'm with them. There is no rational explanation for their collapse. Yes, one can cite incompetent defense, a return to form for Dempster and a general inability to hit. One can also bring up the fact that folks like Derek Lowe and Manny Ramirez just don't lose in the post season. Still, The Cubs were playing well as recently as a week ago. I know it's just one series, but why now? Why the most important series of the season? One is inclined to think that there are unseen forces at work. And those forces are likely put into action by a goat.

The Brewers never had much of a chance. As we saw in last year's ALCS, C.C. Sabathia doesn't seem to perform well under pressure. And The Brewers hopes hinge on Sabathia. In fact, the Brewers just pinch hit Sabathia (in place of the always terrible Jeff Suppan - remember his brilliant base-running in the '04 World Series?). You don't pinch hit a pitcher in the post season. Rather, if you are forced to, you likely don't have the depth to advance. I know this series isn't officially over, but The Brewers are totally overmatched. The Phillies are better at just about every position.

The ALDS:

Anyone who actually hopped on the Angels bandwagon was foolish. The Red Sox absolutely own the Angels in postseason play. To best understand the complexion of this series, watch Howie Kendrick the next time he comes to the plate (is Scioscia is brave/dumb enough to play Kendrick again). He's absolutely killing his team. He swung at everything Daisuke and Lester threw at him. Most dramatic we're the breaking balls he was striking out on against Matsuzaka. Most of them would have been passed balls had a lesser catcher been behind the plate. Howie needs to take a game off.

Oh, and how about J.D. Drew? That home run against K-Rod was awesome. I love to see "bad ass" closers get destroyed. That was definitely the final straw. The Angels are not coming back from that. Not with Beckett at Fenway standing in their way.

The Rays/Red Sox ALCS will be the de facto World Series (just like last year). As great as Manny and Lowe are in the post season, I don't think those two can beat the AL pennant winner alone. In any case, I'm looking forward to the ALCS. I really like both teams. I'll give the edge to The Red Sox because of the post season experience thing. Hopefully, the series will be as exciting as last year's ALCS.

More Autumn Heat

The heat is back in the Ohio River valley. For some reason, summer will not go away. Leaves are falling off of trees, but instead of exhibiting a wide range of autumnal colors, they're just going straight to brown and dying. Fall is my favorite season. In my youth, Louisville used to experience fall. Then, I moved away to Boston for awhile, came back and found autumn had moved away.

On a related note, while watching the vice presidential debate the other night, Sarah Palin's comments about global warming really resonated with me (and I'm sure with many other know-nothing, mentally defective wingnuts). To sum it up: no, there is no such phenomenon as global warming. Maybe there has been a slight increase in global temperature, but it's just part of the temperature cycle that jesus and randy christ laid out 2000 years ago (incidentally, our new earth's 2000th bithday!). However, none of this shit: polar ice cap melting, violent weather events, polar bears migrating into arctic population centers and demanding welfare - which the minority loving dems are all too happy to hand out - is a result of human behavior. In short, this isn't our fault. It's god's plan and we don't really understand or know the cause, but that's not going to keep us from fixing it!!?!!

Hey Sarah Palin, I want autumn back! Can you please pray for that? I know it's anathema to f around with the grand plan, but this really sucks. Could you please just talk to him a bit? Think of the children! No more candy apples and jack-o-lanterns! No more pumpkin pies! First, they went and deprived the children of their baby dinosaur playmates (not sure how, whatever climate even took out the dinosaurs must not have affected people. I guess person technology was more advanced back then). Now, he wants to take away the babies' apple cider! We can't let this happen. Pray for us! While you're at it, could you axe for the dinosaurs back? My nephew doesn't get along too well with people. He's allergic to dogs and cats. He needs a companion. His allergist has signed off on a pet pterodactyl, but we can't seem to find one. Help us, Sarah Palin; you're our only hope!

Fortunately, the heat just came today, so yesterday was still pretty pleasant (low 70's). So, yesterday's 10-miler was nice. Today's 12-miler won't be quite so great. Temperature has reached 80 and it's only 1:30pm.

GingerRollerQueen and Others

The GingerRollerQueen is an unstoppable force. Like a bionic combination between a Madame Tussaudsesque Carrot Top and a snow machine, she glides up hills on her inline skates, decimating all things in her way. She skates on the wrong side of the street. She doesn't care what you think, she's going to skate her heart out, because you don't change the world by not skating.

When one runs in Cherokee Park, one will often encounter The GRQ. She flies furiously up hills like her cousin, snowsuit-wearer-even-in-July Guy, who is some sort of uphill skating savant. Both of these characters are driven by some sort of mysterious, unseen force that is both awesome and powerful. Unfortunately, every time GRQ skates past, I throw up a little bit. The first time it happened, I didn't think much of it - a standard blame in on the pre-run 1/2 pound of bacon thing. The second time, I was stricken, more by my excitement at having seen GRQ again. The third time, it occurred to me that her appearance is always accompanied by gastrointestinal distress. Hopefully, the next time she appears, the two of us can have our portrait painted.

10.12 miles through the park today. 65 degrees, clear, sunny, low humidity. In other words, a perfectly glorious day for running (of for encountering magical, mythical monsters, like GRQ).

I also ran into a Yorkie with a person's voice. And not just any person's voice, Gilbert Godfried's voice. Terrifying beast. Had I not swerved to avoid it, it most definitely would have destroyed me, or at least made me vomit.

5 miles tomorrow. 5 miles Saturday. 12 miles Sunday. It's all downhill from here, until the marathon. I was a bit nervous after Monday's disaster, but felt great today.