Daily Loaf

Jen and I recently traveled to Chicago for her first marathon. She began the Chicago Marathon in exactly the same state as she finished it: excited and feeling great. She’s still in the Midwest visiting family so I’ll give you all a little recap of what it’s like to be a spectator at a marathon in another state.

In a word: awesome.

Now, I am not sure if it’s just because we were in Chicago, home of the most elaborately garnished hot dogs I have ever seen, or if destination marathons are just the way to go.

Since I was there merely for support I got to do a bit more imbibing of local beverages (try the 312 if you are ever in the Windy City) and indulging in the food and late nights.

Destination marathons are actually quite wonderful for friends and family. While your racer is going to bed early and resting the legs, you, dear athletic supporter, can roam this new locale and stay up as late as you like. Unless of course it’s Saturday night, pre-race night. Your racer could get upset if you stumble in at 2 a.m. and wake them from their much needed slumber. I was smart enough to be home by 10:30 p.m. so as to avoid this.

A benefit to this destination marathon is that when your racer is finished they can see some sights as well. You might have to wheel them around depending on the shape their legs are in, but the walking is actually good for them post-race.

The Chicago Marathon is one of the biggest, and I now know why. From the city to the people to the course itself, Chicago seems like it was made to hold a race like this. Runners travel through Boystown, Chinatown, Grant Park, and so many other historic areas. It’s unfortunate that Chi-town didn’t get the Olympics because I can totally see it working wonderfully there. If you have never been to Chicago I recommend adding this to your race schedule. And if you aren’t a runner, go see the city on your next vacation.

See running Elvises, learn tips for destination marathon-spectating and more after the break: Read the rest of this entry »

Love on the rocks
Ain’t no surprise
Pour me a drink
And I’ll sell you some lies
Got nothing to lose
So you just sing the blues all the time
-Neil Diamond

If you have been dumped then you know how bad it sucks. If you have never been there, then you are one lucky son-of-a-bitch.

About four weeks ago I was in heavy training mode for the Marine Corps Marathon. I was at 18 miles of a 22-mile training run  and it happened. I got tendonitis in my lower ankle/foot. I was out for about four weeks and had to make the decision to defer the race. My weeks away from running were like a bad break up.

Here’s my reasoning, assuming you are the dumpee and Running is the dumper: You meet running and at first you aren’t real impressed with it. It’s a little tough to get to know him/her. But you do. And you start spending a lot of time together. You spend money on Running, taking it out to fancy stores and locations. You woo it with your fancy clothes and gadgets. You even buy it lots of delicious Italian dinners. You fall in love with Running and think it feels the same way about you.

You become obsessed with Running. You think about it all the time. You doodle its name with little hearts on your checkbook while balancing it. You think you and Running will never break up. You + Running = Forever.

But then it happens. Read the rest of this entry »

Jen and I had our weekly meeting (READ: daily IM-ing during work hours) regarding our posts for CL and decided that since I am suffering through an injury I could provide you all some insights on how to make it through an injury of your own. Physically making it through is one thing, mentally making it through is another.

The week before last I headed out with the running group to get in a nice 22 mile training run. At about mile 9ish the ankle starting hurting. By mile 13 it really hurt. Did I stop? Hell no. At 18 miles I had to throw in the towel and have been babying it ever since. Read the rest of this entry »

Wikipedia describes a marathon as “a long-distance foot race with an official distance of 42,195 kilometers (26 miles, 385 yards, or exactly 26 7/32 miles) that is usually a road race.”
I would describe it as 26.2 miles of sheer determination, dedication, and a touch of insanity.

The author training for Disney during the winter of 2008.

The marathon is not something everyone has on their bucket list. It’s not for everyone. Some people have other goals and aspirations, but for me it always seemed like a really cool thing to do. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would become one of those crazy runner types. You know the ones who get up at the buttcrack of dawn and head out for a 10, 14, 18 or even 20 mile run? You know the ones who run five or six days a week? What exactly makes those people do it?

I started my quest to the marathon in 2008 when I added the words “run a marathon” to my list of things to do before I turned 30. I was 28 at the time, had no “running friends”, no idea of how to train for one, and absolutely the worst case of procrastination known to man. To give you a glimpse of my over all health, I was a typical gym goer. I’d run about three to five miles a few days a week, eat and drink too much on the weekends and come Monday it was all about repentance. I wasn’t really out of shape, but I wasn’t even ready for a 10K, let alone a marathon.

I registered for the 2009 Walt Disney World Marathon about a year before. I began serious training about 8 weeks out (NOTE: Terrible idea). See? My procrastination knows no bounds. Luckily, I found a running group in Brandon and they helped me along. They also told me I was nuts and shouldn’t do a marathon on such little training. Being a stubborn person, I did it anyway.

My longest run before Disney was 18 miles. It was not enough. I made it to mile 18 of the Disney Marathon and felt my entire body start fighting against me. By mile 20 I was run-walking. By mile 21 I was run-walking-cursing. By mile 22 I thought I had lost my mind because my legs hurt so badly. By miles 23 and 24 I wanted to quit. Sheer determination and stubbornness kept me going. I almost flipped the bird to a spectator who cheered to me, “You’re almost there!”, at mile 25. The last 1.2 miles were brutal, both mentally and physically. I kept thinking, “well you can scratch this off the list and never do it again.”

But then something happened. Read the rest of this entry »

As promised, I attended a hash run last night. Let me start by saying that hashing is not for the meek, shy, conservative or anyone opposed to running through backyards and barbed wire. Hashing is also not really for those in training mode, unless you use it as a recovery run.

I heard that every hash group is different. Some place more emphasis on the beer and socializing aspect and some on the run. I think that it’s safe to say that the Jolly Roger Hash House Harriers in Tampa enjoy the beer and social aspect a wee bit more. This is not to say that we didn’t run, but more time was spent singing, joking, and drinking. Works for me.

When I arrived at the meet up spot I was a bit nervous. People were milling about wearing what I termed hasher flair. This flair consisted of necklaces with their hash names (Tie Me Down Dick, Fist Deep, Goo, Gay Rodeo Clown, Lost My Balls), shiggy socks (I’ll get to that), whistles, and sashes denoting the number of hashes participated in. Most of them also had their own cups.

Tie Me Down Dick

As soon as the beer truck pulled in, the drinking was on. Read the rest of this entry »

Ever since I started running “professionally” I would hear whispers of a certain subculture of running, one  that involved booze, tawdry nicknames and running in dresses, red ones at that, worn by men. Redhead mentioned that she had heard of this underground running cult as well.

Although we are fond of both running and boozing, we were perplexed by the concept of putting the two together.

Upon further investigation I found out this subculture is called hashing. While it’s not as secretive as I thought, the hash groups can be pretty selective on who they let in.

So, The Redhead and I have decided to go into the seedy underbelly of hashing. You know, find out what makes it tick. Yup, just call us Cagney & Lacey.

These hashers all have nicknames chosen for them based on personality traits, quirks, or random events. For example I know of one in the area known as Fist Deep. And another known as Smells Like Fish. Hm. Do the Redhead and I really want to subject our delicate sensibilities to people like this? Of course we do:
Read the rest of this entry »