Sweatfest 2011

Sorry for the lack of blog action as of late. I've been too busy turning myself into a date or a prune by sweating every ounce of hydration out of my person.

Bill and I headed down to my parents' in Maryland for a large chunk of the weekend. With Storm the Shore two weeks away (shit!) we knew we had to get some training in between sleep, tailgates, Navy football and play time with the fam and the friends.

Bill is well on the mend from a foot booboo and wants to stay that way so we lugged the mountain bikes down with us to get some time in the saddle. I hadn't sat on that saddle since the finish line of the Equinox almost two months ago.

POP QUIZ:
What kind of an adventure racer am I? Circle all that apply.
     A) The awesome kind.
     B) The short kind.
     C) The lazy kind.

I know you leaned toward A but, in fact, the correct answer is both B and C.

We headed down to a small park about 20 minutes south of my parents' digs near Annapolis. Only one real trail -- a 9.5 mile loop. We thought it would be boring and, based by the quality of the riders and bikes in the parking lot when we rolled into the park bright and early I was worried I was in for a day of hot mess technicality.

Instead, an awesome roller coaster of buttery single track, some short climbs, tight turns and only a few rocks and roots. I always forget that the Wissahickon, my usual riding spot, is one of the more technical spots to bike within a few hundred miles.

It was pretty stellar. We did a lap and a half and then found ourselves unable to stay away from the awesome -- we headed back to the park the next day for a few more hours of riding.

Bill likes to mountain bike, a lot. He also happens to be pretty good at it -- pushing the pace and the more technical, the better. This park was a bit beneath the technical junk he prefers so we decided to make the ride a bit more of a challenge for the both of us. I'd get an 8-minute head start on the first lap and then the last one to the end had to buy gas and Wawa hoagies to get us through the ride back to Philly.

I was off, zooming the best that I could up and around switchbacks, through tight turns, wedging between trees and splashing through a few streams. I could ride the whole thing -- only had to unclip when I'd go around a turn to find another rider zooming right toward me.

So yeah, I suck at mountain biking. Just past the half-way point I heard someone come up behind me, fast. It was Bill. We rode together for about two miles and then he was off, making it to the parking lot almost 20 minutes faster than I did.

I was a drippy, muddy, sweaty mess as we sat in the parking lot for a few before heading out on the trail again. Sweating so much that the sweat was actually rinsing off the mud on my legs. How damn nasty is that?

My new bike shoe make my feet look extra gigantic!

We rolled back to Philly at around 9 p.m. and I was up again at 8 to meet Abby for a longer trail run in the Wissahickon. As we chatted about whether our run counted as marathon or adventure race training, my new found obsession with The Hunger Games and whether we should really try to race the Philly marathon or just make sure we cross the finish line I found myself basically melting.

My entire person turned to sweat. I had a small pack on with about 60 ounces of water that I was chugging. It might have been more efficient just to dump the water directly onto my person. Every few minutes I'd grab the sides of my shirt and wring them out, sweat leaving a trail behind me. My hair looked like I'd gotten caught in a downpour. My shoelaces were so drippy they started whipping my ankles as I meandered along the trail. Blisters? I got them on my feet, thanks to the fact that my socks were so wet that I wrung them out when I got home.

How effing disgusting is that? On a scale of 1 to 10, please leave your score in a comment. Personally, I think it's a 9.

I don't weigh myself a lot, maybe a few times a year to make sure I don't have a tapeworm or that I haven't secretly been eating Big Macs and tubs of Crisco in my sleep, so I am not entirely sure what I weigh at any given point in time. But, I hopped on the scale once I got home from our 17.5 nasty (and, for me, sort of painful) trail miles.

I weighed 2 points less than I ever have in my adult life.

Not good. Kidneys, I apologize. Heart, I apologize to you, too.

I spent several hours sipping on blue-flavored Powerade, lemonade-flavored Nuun, water and chocolate milk. I never felt entirely terrible or death-like -- I just felt like the most dehydrated person in the tri-state area.

When I got on the scale this morning I'd put on five pounds. I felt fine today -- not sore, not dehydrated, not particularly tired, so I guess I didn't do any real damage.

But, fall, roll in soon. Please and thank you.

Altered Mental Status

This week was supposed to be a low week for adventure race training -- I've been trying for a minimum of 12 hours a week for the past month. This week looked like it would be closer to 9 hours -- I knew I wouldn't be heading out for a long trail run or ride after Sunday's duathlon, meaning that my usual 3 or 4 hours on Sunday would be cut in half and I knew that Monday wouldn't amount to much training-wise as I had to be at work early and stay late.

But, fortunately, my brain decided to step up to the plate this week. I got in a quick ab and lifting session on Monday, managed to drag my non-morning ass out of bed on Tuesday for a 45-minute trail run. I'd planned on getting home from work, having a beer or two, flopping around the interwebs and having dinner with Bill, but had an unanticipated bout of motivation when I got home and headed to the trainer for an easy 45-minute ride that quickly turned into a 120-minute ride when I decided to stay on the bike.

On Wednesday morning a 16-mile trail run with Abby was penned in. However, the weather, and our own ideas of what constituted sane training, prevailed. Instead of hitting the trails, my family room looked like this at 6:30 in the morning:

Half of our six bikes in the family room -- one for Bill
to ride after work (hiding in the back), one for me,
one for Abby.

Fortunately I don't have to go into detail about the three hours Abby and I spent on the trainer as she did it here.  

For the rest of the day my legs felt a bit lazy but I was satisfied with getting in a decent chunk of time on the bike, even if it was on the trainer.

Bill fled from me before the crack of dawn on Thursday -- a 9 a.m. flight to Clearwater for Phillies spring training, a.k.a. an excuse for a bachelor party. I was half-nice and drove him to the train station that would take him to the airport, as opposed to being all nice and taking him the entire way to the airport. On the way back I ditched the car a few miles from home and headed into Wissahickon Park for what I'd hoped would be a 90-minute run -- thanks to Monday's long day I could afford to go in a bit late to work.

The weather was pretty much fantastic (mid-40s, sunshine), the park was empty (except for a few bulldozers sadly digging up a trail for no reason I could figure out) and I was pissed I had to eventually make my way to work.

After chowing down on some newfound electrolyte chew thingies for breakfast (they were sort of delicious, sort of worked and I sort of should have paid attention to what I was eating because I tossed the empty package at the first trashcan I ran past... no idea what brand or what flavor) and falling into a steady pace I glanced at my watch and realized that I was more than 45 minutes in. A fun time was being had by all so I decided to skip cooking an actual real breakfast at home in exchange for an extra half-hour running.

Ready for rocks and water. Also I think
I am wearing two different socks.

 Most of the trails were in sweet soft shape because of the rain the day before and my legs actually felt less tierd and more energetic as I continued on. The iPod shuffle gods were in tune with my mindset and kept presenting happy morningtime songs as the minutes and miles ticked by.

One section, however, had been particularly drenched by the rains the day before and had decided to cease being a trail and start being a river, giving me the chance to splash around before making my way back to the car. I tried not to run anything over as I zoomed home, repaced the planned-for omelet with a glass of milk and made it to work at an acceptable time.

Following two days of multi-houred weekday training sessions, this run completely reminded me that I like training for hours. I love running on trails, slowly feeling stronger, climbing into bed before midnight and actually being tired. I also freakin' love running with an iPod that takes pictures with a poke of the finger

That is all.

What I Did Last Night

After a day at work that sort of made me want to bang my head against the wall 4,562 times I fled and met up with  a friend for a beer, food and Scrabble. I knew we were at the right place when the bartender clapped when we busted out the game and then would stop by periodically to comment on our words (he was only impressed with "pithy" and "ova.")

At first it wasn't snowing at all. Then, a little bit. Then, a lot. And suddenly the roads were covered. Ran out the bar door, brushed off the car and slowly headed home.

As I walked in the door I said to Bill that I wanted to go for a run. We did some chores, sat around and then Bill asked me when I wanted to leave for a run. It was 9:45. We were out the door five minutes later for a 3-mile happy run through the snow. Cold, quiet and beautiful. Scrabble followed by running therapy is awesome for eliminating work brain.

Bill is in adventure race training mode. 

Snow + night + run = happy.

Can you see me?

Unfortunately we didn't get piles of snow dumped on us. Hopefully just enough to take the snowshoes out for a spin in a little bit, though. Also my goal for 2011 is to post 8,412 pictures of me in the snow. Hopefully more of it will fall from the sky soon.

More Running in the Snow. And a Race.

After putzing around the house for most of the morning I headed out for some hill repeats followed by a few trail miles. The hill repeats turned into just a hill repeat -- I'd forgotten what a monster this hill was. Hadn't been on it for repeats in probably 6 or 7 years. When I first started running my roommate at the time would drag me to the bottom of the hill and make me run up it five times. It was terrible. I hated every second of it. But, it got me in decent shape fast.

I've been pretty lumpy since the New York Marathon and am now getting back into training mode so to the hill it was. I lasted through two repeats. My legs felt great, my heart rate felt fine (what do I know, though, I don't use a monitor) but my lungs felt like they were turning to ice. It sort of hurt and I gave up after two before ducking into the trails for a few miles.

I wasn't expecting to see snow! Apparently Philly got a few inches on Friday or Saturday. I was away so I missed it actually falling and by the time I got back to the city the streets and sidewalks were clear so I didn't realize it had snowed.

Snow? Yay!

Snow makes me smile.

I had fun slipping up the uphills, sliding down the downhills and crunching along the flats. One tiny drainage stream that is usually nothing more than a glorified puddle actually had a little something to it so I found myself completing the last two miles with sopping wet, chilly feet. I am not sold on Goretex trail runners so I guess this is what I get.

Supposedly more snow is coming mid-week. I think I might suck it up and head to REI tomorrow night for snowshoes and/or cross-country skis.

Also, I just registered for my first race of the year, a 7.2 mile slog through the trails of Reading, Pa. I've never done this specific race before but the race company usually puts on runs that are challenging, silly and fun. I am glad to have something officially on the calendar. Actually, I think this run will be the earliest in the year I have ever raced. I am not remotely in race shape but hopefully this will help me start to get there.

Snow + New Toy = Pictures

This morning I bungeed a broken pair of Yak Trax to my trail runners and headed into Wissahickon Park. Conditions were just right. Not too cold. Not too warm. The trails were packed down just enough that I could run without being knee-deep in snow (I almost ordered snowshoes the other night but then decided that maybe I would like cross country skis instead, possibly, so now I've ordered neither so far).

I was wishing that a camera would magically appear as the park looked beautiful. How I love technology -- I had a new iPod that the mom and the dad gave me for my birthday and it magically has a camera. Hooray.

Bungeed the hell out of these things to my shoes.
Quite bobo. But it worked.

I Run So I Can Eat Mass Amounts of Mashed Potatos

Usually I like to sit around on Thanksgiving and be as lumpy as possible. At best I will go for a quick run and then resume lumping.

Today though, after nine years of racing and avoiding Turkey Trots, I did this. Not because I have had a change of heart and have decided to not be lumpy today, but because the race was organized, in part, by the fantastic Katy Otto whose full-time fun is supporting the good people of Face to Face, a very helpful community agency literally a few yards from our front door.

So when Katy asked if we were running, how could we say no? I’ve known her since we were 13, she recently moved to Philly and she's just about the nicest person ever. I wanted to show her some luv.

Bill and I made the mistake of checking the weather report last night – 31 degrees, freezing rain. Hmm. I am cold all of the time. All. Unless it is 80 degrees, count on me being chilly.

Maybe I should be lazy and stay in bed, I thought. I whine and whine in the cold and have only done maybe 30 miles since New York.

The alarm went off and I actually got up. Mostly to look out the window to see if crap was falling from the sky, in which case I would have gone back to bed (Bill was going no matter what). No crap was falling so out the door we went.

Registered. Got shirts. And then I spent way too much time deciding exactly what to wear. It would snow, the sun would peek out, it would sleet, the wind would blow. Please, weather, decide what to do.

The course is a mostly flat out-and-back along Forbidden Drive, the main path through Wissahickon Park (pretty much my favorite place on Earth). I went out way too fast, as always, but decided to race it and hang on as long as I could. There was a dude in the race with a double-wide stroller and I decided that I needed to pass him. Sometimes my ego is a pain in my ass.

A woman and I were running side by side and she must live in my brain a little bit: “Let’s pass Stroller Dad,” she said. So we pushed the pace and eventually passed him (his one kid was singing Baaa Baaa Black Sheep and was pretty damn cute).

Hit the turnaround and knew that I would be running a positive split. Again, as always. Someone please teach me how to pace myself. I did manage to have a tiny bit of a kick at the finish (I usually don’t) so I guess I could have run a dumber race.

Finished the second half 45 seconds slower than the first but I was happy enough with my time. I’ve done the course five or six times before and I was about 11 seconds slower than when I PRed there in July. I’ll take it.

I spent the rest of the day with Bill and his extended family eating, drinking and napping. A day of running and lumping. Truly a reason to give thanks.

The End.