Races Suck

I ran a race last week for the first time in like seven years. I remembered that I hated running races, but this was the Skyway 10K where you get to run on a bridge over the Tampa Bay that would be illegal to run on any other time so I thought it would be worth it since I could run some place cool. Plus, it had been seven years, maybe races weren’t as bad as I remembered.

They were not as bad as I remember; they were definitely worse.

First off, this was a race for military families. That’s not a big deal as helping people is always good, but when you put military anything into something, you know you’re going to deal with some bullshit. This was especially true when it came to the sounds of the race. The Star Spangled Banner, although an objectively terrible song, was unsurprisingly played before the race. But then along the course, there was absolutely nothing but country music played. Like, I would have been ecstatic with some Springsteen at that point, and it’s not like most people realize that Born in the USA is against military interventionism; they just sing the chorus and move on.

And yes, I brought headphones, but I’m not trying to blow out an eardrum to drown out crappy music. They should be the ones to change, because their musical tastes are terrible.

They had a staggered start for the race, and I am in the fourth group to begin. So I get to the starting line, packed in with a bunch of runners and walkers and wait for this thing to get going. The cannon blasts (because military stuff), and we’re off. Well, other people may have been off. I was just chillin. Relaxin. Hangin’ out. But then, EXCITEMENT. We start slowly walking. Neat. By the time I get up to the actual start line, we are starting to be at a brisk walk or incredibly slow jog. HOORAY!

I’m already irritated and looking for every gap I can find to get some sort of space to start moving. I dart in and out, in between, and to the outsides so I can actually run. Finally, I get a little bit of space, and I’m off. Here is my internal dialogue once I finally got going.

“I’m going too fast.”
“There is no way I can keep this pace up.”
“I really need to slow down.”
“Oh man, this is not good.”
“Again, you really need to slow down.”

But no matter how many times I told myself to slow down early on, I couldn’t do it. I hate being in crowds so much that I just needed to bust out any way I could. I’m basically like a much, much, much slower Steve Prefontaine in that all I want to do is front run so I don’t have to have the feeling of being trapped. The fun with this race was once I busted out, I just ran into more crowds, because I caught up to previous start times. I never really got any stretch of just open space and enjoyment.

Not shockingly, I was already feeling like shit by the time I hit the bridge. Going down the bridge was okay, but still, there were so many people that I could never fully open up and let go of things. I thought the view would be cool, but I barely remember it, because I was constantly surrounded by people. I don’t think I ran too poorly, but I definitely didn’t run well either. I tried checking my time after the race, but they hadn’t posted anything yet. Honestly, I don’t particularly care since I haven’t actually measured distance or time on my runs in years. I just run to run.

To top it all off, the food spread was an insult. First off, they promised water on the bus back, and mine didn’t have any. Then, when we got back, I was looking forward to a spread of donuts, popsicles, gatorades, and some delicious complimentary food. Instead, there was water, doritos, and plain bagels. Nothing like gnawing on a raw bagel after a hard race. They at least had bananas. Oh, and there was complimentary food provided by...Taco Bell! When I saw that announcement, I thought they were pranking people, but NOPE, turns out that Taco Bell was their idea of the perfect food after a hard run. I thought about having some since my body was craving calories, but I knew that my whole digestive system would make me pay for that later.

On the positives, there was at least a couple free beers in it for me, but considering I had just done a race, and there was no real food to go along with it, I drank half of one and called it a day.

I’m never running another race. Instead, for my next run, I’m going to pick a beautiful stretch along the water, take the dog out, and fully enjoy every second of it while only seeing people for a moment as we pass in opposite directions. When I get back to the car, there will be water for both of us and a couple bananas to give me the nourishment I need before heading back to my house and downing a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

If someone ever makes a race like that, sign me up.

I Accidentally Crashed an AIDS Race

I went for a run on Saturday morning. I wasn't too enthused about it, because the winter temps were in the low 60s, and now that I'm a namby pamby, this is stocking cap weather for me. I delayed as long as I could, but winter is here, and finally, around 9:00 AM, I made my way down to St. Petersburg to go run down there.

I found a nice little 2-hour parking spot and started off on my run. As I turned towards the water, I saw a police officer and a whole lot of runners up ahead. I decided to go in the opposite direction of the runners, and that way I would cross paths with them for a short while, but then I would clear them and be on my way.

After a few blocks, I saw that everyone was coming from my left, so I just headed straight and found a quieter stretch. Then, after a few more blocks, as I kept chugging forward, the course had apparently turned back as I was right in the middle of the damn run. There were no side streets to turn down, and I was basically just stuck.

I'll be honest. I kind of liked it. I was passing fools left and right and leaving them in my dust. There were people along the path cheering people on. Then, I ran into a conundrum. Up ahead, there were people on both sides of the road looking for high-fives. Clearly, they wanted to high-five the people that were supporting the AIDS run, not some random dumbass. But, it would be rude to deny somebody a high-five. I was cruising, so they may not even notice that I wasn't in the race, so I did the polite thing and high-fived the shit out of them. It was exhilarating.

I was at full swagger at this point as I was running real fast and taking advantage of every high-five imaginable. I decided to take it to the next level, and instead of giving somebody a high-five, I paid tribute to the nWo and The Elite and gave a woman the too-sweet sign right to the palm of her hand. That old lady was probably super confused, but I had a HUGE smile on my face.

Then the race turned down another street and I saw the finish line up ahead. It was at this time that I knew my time was done. I would likely be found out, and I also wasn't ready to end my run in less than two miles. I cut through the cone barrier and headed up another street towards my own finish line.

But the accidental AIDS run did have a positive impact on me. I would like to not only declare myself, but this entire blog, anti-AIDS...but very pro AIDS runs.

Is New York City the Greatest City on Earth?

I went to New York City for the first time a couple weeks ago. Even though it was a work trip, I did get some time to explore. So I set out to check out as much as I could and give New York City a review. I didn’t have access to the vehicle, so I didn’t make it real far, but let’s face it, when people talk about New York, they are talking about Manhattan, and that is the place I spent nearly all of my time. Here are the highlights, starting with the sights, and following with the experiences.

Sights
Queens Boulevard
I saw a sign for Queens Boulevard and had to hold in my laughter. If you didn’t watch Entourage (good for you), you will not understand the pure comedy of seeing a sign for Queens Boulevard. But for those of you that suffered through all of that show, “Are you kidding me? I am Queens Boulevard.” That’s why Vinnie Chase was a movie star.

Statue of Liberty
Almost as impressive is the Statue of Liberty. It’s pretty cool that they have a replica of the one in Las Vegas right here in New York City. During the day, the Statue of Liberty is pretty blah, but it is pretty cool when it’s lit up at night.

Times Square
Man, I really just did not care about Times Square. I mean, it’s good that I got to see it, but I didn’t care going in, and I didn’t care going out. My full review: It’s quite bright.

9/11 Memorial
I checked out the fountains, and they were cool. Is it bad to say they were cool? I guess this was one of those things where I would have had more of an emotional connection had I seen the area before. But since it was my first time, it was just natural that they had this there. I obviously know the history, but I think it is much more powerful for a native than a tourist.

Grand Central Station
This is a famous place that is shown in movies. It is also a damn fortress that you will never escape. Every sign just points you to more trains. I didn’t want more trains, I wanted to get outside. My advice is to just keep going up until you luck into an exit or a roof.

Experiences
The Subway
My first Subway trip was awesome. We were nuts to butts in every car. I got intimate with many people that I will never see again. The smell was not great, and I kept my hand on my wallet the entire time. Great experience.

Street Performers
I have heard that some street performers put on really great shows. The street performers I saw put on a very shitty show. They said they were going to jump over like 10 people, but they ended up jumping over three. A huge buildup with a massive letdown. Do not trust people who say they are going to jump over 10 people; they will only let you down.

Watching Iowa Game
Watched the Iowa game at an Iowa bar in Manhattan. It was a lot of fun from start to fini…right before the finish. Still, I ate a big ass turkey leg and drank a bunch of cheap beer. Those are good things to do when watching football.

Running – Day 1
So when I was running for my first time in the city, I was still paying for the sins of the night before. I did not feel great, and I was very slow compared to my normal pace. Still, I pushed myself over the Brooklyn Bridge and into Brooklyn before turning around for a nice little five mile run. The Brooklyn Bridge was a very enjoyable place to run as I had the sunrise on one side and the Statue of Liberty on the other. Also, quite a few people were around so I never got lonely, and I couldn’t stop and look like a sissy. I will say that I was pleasantly surprised with the running options in the city.

Drinking at a Fancy Bar
Night two I went to Stone Street and had an Old Fashioned at this fancy whiskey bar. It was delicious, made all the sweeter by the fact that I didn’t have to pay for it. I highly recommend going to nice places, having good drinks and not paying.

Running – Day 2
New Yorkers often talk about how tough they are, and if you can make it in New York, you can make it anywhere. What I found is that they are massive cowards. My Day 2 run was at 4:45, and I saw a decent amount of people out at that time. Not a ton, but some, and all but one single girl were cowards. I would give them a runner’s wave as I went by, but everybody put their heads down and refused to make eye contact with me. What a bunch of ninnies. I mean, for a place that talks about how tough they are, I wasn’t very impressed, as they seemed to be intimidated by my “Buff Daddy” shirt from Bodybuilding.com.

Ordering Pizza
Speaking of toughness, the toughest thing in New York City is understanding people. I do not speak New Yorkian. I mean, I could not understand shit when natives were talking. Why do they talk like that? These people might make it in New York, but if they talked with a funny accent in small town Iowa, I guarantee that they would not make it there. I also heard a lot about how New Yorkers always get in fights, and I’m pretty sure that 90% of those are started because nobody can understand each other. Oh yeah, I got some pizza, and it was good. It wasn’t as good as pizza places in Iowa, and it wasn’t as good as the pizza place I go to in Florida. I sure hope they don’t brag about that stuff.
And that was my New York City experience. Is New York City the greatest city on Earth? No, and it’s not particularly close. I mean, it’s pretty cool, but there are plenty of places I could enjoy more. It’s a B+ city. I enjoyed my time there, but I won’t be heartbroken if I never make it back.

I EH 

NY

My Mid-Life Crisis

Mid-life crises are always something that made me laugh. Like, what, one day, you realized you were old and needed to get yourself a shitty convertible? That's super sad and unnecessary, especially since convertibles are highly overrated. I was pretty positive that I'd never need to worry about a mid-life crisis of my own, because I don't really care about stuff so there's no big spending spree that I am going to go on. Unfortunately, this past week, I realized that, at the tender age of 32, I might be in the midst of my own mid-life crisis.

Although my crisis does not involve any extravagant purchase. It does involve a couple small purchases, and those couple purchases could turn to a few, could turn to many, could turn to a ridiculous amount of purchases. 

My mid-life crisis is short shorts.

It started a few years ago when I got rid of my basketball shorts and went to shorts at the knee instead of below the knee. Then the shorts went above the knee. Recently, I started folding the waistband over so the shorts raised up just a bit higher on my leg as I found it more comfortable to run since things didn't bounce around in my pockets as much. It was all logical so I didn't see a problem.

It got bad when I found this pair of Puma shorts. This pair was real short, basically the length of boxers. In fact, I wasn't totally sure whether they were boxers or shorts. Like, they seemed like shorts, because they had pockets and a drawstring, but they also had a button for pee hole, and I have never had that on any of my shorts before. Still, they were short shorts, and they had pockets, so I proudly wore them around despite the fact that it made my family uncomfortable. I thought that I wasn't the problem, and they were just jealous that I had such a great pair of legs.

Things only got worse from there. I used to make fun of people who wore those uncomfortably short running shorts. The reason being that if your legs are so weak that they can't fight through a bit of extra fabric, then you've got bigger issues than trying to beat your best mile time. Those guys were the biggest tools on the planet. This past weekend, I found a pair of super short running shorts. These shorts are shorter than any pair of shorts that my wife owns. I knew it was a bad idea, but I also knew that I would love them. So I made the purchase.

The next day I decided to give them a try. Since I have a small waist, I go with a size small shorts to ensure they hug my lower body in all the right places. That next morning they almost seemed shorter than before.  But I was all in, and nothing was going to make me turn back. I ripped off the tags and noticed something that almost made me turn back. Right on the original tag, there it was, "Ladies." My heart sank. Was I really going to wear lady shorts to go running? not only that, but ladies size small shorts. I hemmed, I hawed, and then I said fuck it, let's do this shit. 

I went running in tiny lady shorts, and it was GLORIOUS. I felt lighter on my feet, and I loved looking down to see my gorgeous legs almost fully exposed with each passing step. It had a nice little zip up pocket in the back where I was able to put my key and iPod. Overall, it was just an incredible experience, and I look forward to more adventures in my teeny, tiny shorts. I know it's weird; I know it will make others uncomfortable, but I can't help the way I feel. I love short shorts.

So, ladies, watch out. Not only will you see me flashing some major leg, but if you've got your eyes on the last pair of hot pink shorts at the store, you better be quick, because this mid-life crisis shows no signs of slowing down.

The Birds Are Back In Town

I am not a hateful person. I'm far more likely to just let things be than to hold a grudge. Remembering who you hate and who is your rival is difficult for me, as I really just don't care about holding onto negativity. Yet, there is one enemy where my hatred runs deep and is hotter than a million suns. No human is worthy of this hate, but another animal is: The Red-Winged Blackbird, aka the worst thing on Earth.

These birds are assholes. There is no other way to put it. Actually, there is one other way to put it: They are stupid assholes. Stupid, because they are birds yet they choose to build their nests on the ground. Now, let's think about this: If I had the ability to fly, do you think I would spend a lot of time walking around to places? Do you think I would just stay in traffic, because DURRRR, I don't know no better. No, I wouldn't. I'd use my damn high flying abilities to stay above the fray. Yet these birds are so stupid that they put their nests on the ground.

Because of their nesting grounds, they like to act as if others are at fault for coming near their nests on the ground. This is when these dumbasses get into asshole mode. They are incredibly territorial, and they are more than willing to attack human beings. When I lived in Iowa, I would run near the river, and these birds would take turns swooping down to attack me like it was a scene from Mad Max. But these birds are not brave; they're cowards. They only attack the crown of my head, and they always come from behind. That's a bitch move right there.

One of the best things about moving to Florida is that I felt I was finally rid of these stupid assholes. I hadn't seen any of them since I moved down here, and I was able to run in peace. But with the new move, I have not just seen these assholes; they live in my backyard.

So far, it has been a feeling out process. They seem to be nesting far enough into the marsh that we don't have reasons to confront each other, but they still hang out in my tree. They have not tried to harm me or my dog while we play in the backyard, and I have not gotten out my tennis racket and started swinging for the fences.

What I'm hoping is that these are Florida birds, so they have retired from family life and are just retiring out their final days. That's cool by me, but the second they start to puff out their chests and come swooping at me, they're going to get a mouthful of tennis racket, and I'm strapping on my boots to go nest stomping.

Messing with people like me is the reason that "birdbrains" is such a terrible insult. It isn't wise, and I will have my revenge.

Hell hath no fury like a Hott Joe pecked.

Why Do I Always Have To Poop When I Run?

I usually go for runs 2-3 times a week. Usually the runs are anywhere from 3-10 miles, although occasionally I'll black out and go longer. But no matter where I am, what the distance, or how fast I am going, I will inevitably get that rumbling in my guts and have the need to take a poop. Today, I try to discover why.

Just Poop More, Dummy
Yeah, this probably would have been my first guess if I weren't me. I poop every morning before I get any sort of workout on. I'm a man who relaxes on the toilet. I play some Trivia Crack, check Twitter, and update my fantasy teams. If there's still some crud in my colon, I might read part of a book, but trust me, I do not rush the process. I take care of business, clean up, and start stretching for my routine. Yet no matter how long I'm there, I will inevitably have to poop when I go on that run.

A Little Extra Boost
Obviously, when you have to poop, you're going to get some farts first. I use these farts to push myself forward on the run, as I can use my sphincter to take some stress off of my legs. It's basically like attaching a steam engine to my backside. It also encourages me to run faster, as I definitely don't want to linger around in that smell.

Evolution
This is the most likely answer. As possibly the most evolved human ever, my body natually makes the optimal decisions for my benefit. You never know what might happen when you go out for a run. I could be chased by bears, lions, elephants, or birds. By getting rid of all of my waste, I become lighter and even faster.

So, there you have it, I'm just so physically evolved that my body is constantly in survival mode. "Fight or flight" works for some, but "Rumble in your pooper means you'll run super" is the way I live my life (Alternative life motto: "Drop some weight, delay Heaven's gate").

The Good And Bad Of Toe Shoes

I have long been an advocate of toe shoes, so I had many friends point me towards the backlash that has been on the internet as Vibram has had to settle a lawsuit for their FiveFingers (toe) shoes. What people have gotten stuck on is that these shoes don't work and nobody should wear them, because they are stupid looking and will ruin you as a runner. Let's take a look at the second claim first.

The shoe company had to settle because Vibram claimed that these shoes would reduce foot injuries and even make people's feet stronger. Unfortunately, there is no scientific evidence to back this up. If you look at this at face value, it will mean that these shoes are bad for you, and everyone should immediately stop wearing them. Unfortunately, this is a misconception that shows a blatant disregard for other benefits that shoes can have. Those other benefits are why I will continue to wear my toe shoes, but even with that endorsement, I still plan on collecting my settlement money, because I more than earned it.

The claim on helping feet is bullshit. It isn't going to make your feet stronger, and it can cause stress fractures in your foot when switching to the shoe. I know, because I got a stress fracture in my right foot when using the shoes for a road race. It really sucked, and the shoes are definitely to blame. But much like Achilles had his heel, my weakness is foot bones, as I also got a stress fracture in my foot when I wore traditional running shoes. Vibram needs to make it very clear that people need to take it very slow and run very little before amping up your runs in those shoes. Trying to do a lot quickly will mess up your feet and not making this clear is the reason they are going to pay out a lot of money.

So these shoes broke my foot, yet I still wear them. Why? Well, the other benefits that I mentioned earlier have outweighed the costs compared to traditional running shoes. I started off as a hard-hitting runner as my feet really went heavy against the road. Likely, this was caused by being involved in sprint heavy sports like basketball, football, and tennis where speed is created by pushing hard against the ground with your foot. I ran in toe shoes with a heavy foot and I paid the price. But these shoes have made me adjust my running where at times, I feel myself gliding across the pavement instead of pounding it. When I first got the shoes, it killed my feet any time I would step on a rock, road grate, and especially tactile pavings. Now my foot strike is way softer, so I barely notice when I land on those things (although gravel is still very tricky, so I try to avoid it).

In combination with landing softer on the pavement, I have also adjusted where I land on my foot. I used to be a heel striker when wearing traditional running shoes. Even in my mid-20s, I would occasionally have pain in my knees as well as lower back pain that was likely a direct result of that pain in my knees. My Dad has bad knees and a bad back, so those were two things that really worried me as I got older. Switching to the shoes forced me to start landing on the balls of my feet instead of my heel. What this does is forces my calves to take the brunt of punishment when I run. When I first got the shoes, my calves killed me, but I kept using them, and my calf muscles have gotten stronger, and it takes a very long run for them to get sore. With the pressure in my calves, it took it off of my knees, and that is why I love these shoes so much. Since switching, I have had no pain in my knees or back, and that is the biggest reason that I absolutely love my toe shoes.

Honestly, toe shoes aren't for everybody. In fitness, everything gets disputed, so find out what works for you. If you feel good using traditional shoes, keep using them. If you are having knee and back problems, maybe give toe shoes a try. Vibram FiveFingers have no proven benefits for your feet, but they have had positive benefits for me. Because of that, I will continue to be the guy running in toe shoes.

And as for them being ugly? Yeah, that's probably a fair point.

Rise by Skillet Is the Worst Song Ever Made

My wife will sometimes have me get songs downloaded, so she has songs she likes on her iPod instead of just the underground country, hippy, and death metal mix that I listen to. This is totally understandable. I'm actually happy about this, because she used to casually listen to Hatebreed, and every time I would walk in, I would want to punch a hole through the wall, which is not a healthy reaction when seeing your wife.

So the other day, she had me download some songs. Mostly people I knew kind of sucked like Miley Cyrus and Drake. She also exposed me to Royals by Lorde, and that has totally become my jam, so some good did come out of it. The only song that stood out was Rise by a band called Skillet. I didn't really think anything of it, so I downloaded it on the computer and put it on her iPod as well as mine, because unchecking that little box on iTunes is way too big of a hassle. This would turn out to be a pretty big mistake.

I went for a run the other day, and the song came on. I had no idea what the hell it was at first. I guess now is as good of time as any to play the song for you.

From that initial beeping at the beginning of the song, my first thought was, "What the fuck is this?" Then the guy started singing, and I'm like, "Shit, what the hell is this?" It was at this point that I took out my iPod and found out what it was. I smiled when I saw that it was one of the crappy songs my wife had wanted. Then the lady started singing, and by that point, nothing shitty could surprise me, so I embraced that part.

Now I could have easily switched to the next song, but I'm a little sadistic, so I needed to see this song through. I'm so happy that I did.

You see, this song is really shitty for the first three minutes and 45 seconds about revolting, with the final 45 seconds of that taking it to a worse place as they have children chanting. But as bad as that is, it is followed by the final 30 seconds which blows everything out of the water. It stops being a song, and becomes a phone call, a news story, and a family argument. I doubt anybody made it to this point in the video above, so here it is for you to enjoy.

I am a very relaxed runner, but rarely do I actually laugh out loud when running. This song changed all that, as I had to keep my balance, because I was bent over laughing by the end of this audio montage.

Here is the wonderful transcript in all its glory:

[Operator:] 911?
[Woman:] There's a guy here with a gun!
[Operator:] Ma'am? Ma'am?
[Woman:] Kids, get under the table! Kids get under the table!!!

This got me to giggle a little bit. I didn't really see how this scene really tied into the song, but I was pretty happy it was there.

[News reporter:] We are getting new reports from all around the globe, showing the highest unemployment rates since the end of World War II. Many are losing their jobs, their homes, and in many cases, their hope.

Through the first part, I was just trying to keep up with all that this news reporter was saying, but I had caught up by the last sentence. And when she says, "and in many cases, their hope," I just about lost my shit. That is rich. That is just rich. God, I was so happy.

[Dispatch:] [static police call] Domestic Disturbance in progress [more static]

I was a little disappointed, as nothing special happened here. But then...

[Upset parent:] You are such a failure! What is wrong with you? You're worthless! You can't do anything right! I wish you had never been born!

It was at this point where I nearly fell down laughing. I looked like an awkward runner, because my convulsing laughter minimized my stride, and I had to do everything I could just to stay upright. That last sentence from angry parent made me oh so happy. That sentence somehow summarizes all teen angst in just seven little words.

When I confronted my wife about this song, I was very relieved. She had never heard the song before, but a friend recommended it to her. That was a huge relief, as a divorce after four months would have been awkward.

Anyway, god bless you, Skillet. This song is the worst piece of shit I have ever listened to, but thanks for the laugh. If you are looking to make real music, maybe listen to the late, great, Wesley Willis.

A Guide For Grooms: Find Time For Yourself

So the whole week of the wedding, there is no free time. You must constantly be working towards the wedding ceremony and reception or socializing to make a good impression, because your bride needs outside approval from everyone who is there. Finding time for yourself is incredibly difficult, so be smarter than me and come up with a plan.

Although I did not have a plan, I did luck out in finding some me time. The one thing that helped me initially is my enjoyment or running, since it is really hard for people to argue against a person staying in good shape. But running isn't all that much fun, and I couldn't go for any epic runs and feel like crap the rest of the day; otherwise, there would be problems.

Where I really lucked out was a delayed flight. Suddenly, plans to pick up multiple people meant that we would need separate trips for the people. That means I had to drive an hour to the airport to pick up a family member. This was basically the best news ever. I got an hour in a car by myself. Also, I can get there early, frame it as me being responsible, and literally just sit there, listening to the Art of Wrestling podcast. It was glorious. Plus, it gave me a reason to go out of my way to get myself a lunch that I could not normally get which added an extra bit of awesome to my day. Also, the drive back gave me some one-on-one time with my airport guest, and I can say that all of my airport guests were great conversationalists. I ended up making three trips on three different days, and it was the greatest thing that could have happened to me. I have a feeling of euphoria just looking back on it. Ah, memories.

So, grooms, even if you aren't big on fitness, volunteer for airport duty. If you’re a stupid oaf like me, you usually just get in the way of things, so it should be easy for you to convince the bride that it is a great way to stay out of the way and still be productive. Best of both worlds.

Running Is Dumb

After a two-week hiatus due to the flu, I got back to running this past Saturday. The bad news is that running is dumb. The good news is that I am an idiot, and hoo boy, was I stupid on this run.

I never really set out a definite path or length for my runs, because I like to live my life with freedom and adventure (America!). This can lead to shorter runs, because during my run, I realize how stupid running is, or it can lead to longer runs, where my stupidity outweighs the stupidity of running, and I just keep going. My run was the latter.

It started out quite peacefully, temperature in the mid-50s, a little bit of wind, but nothing excessive. So I just strolled along. The one thing I do decide before my run is pick my music. It's usually happy music, rap from the late 90s early 00s, or heavy metal/Ultimate Warrior Inspirational speeches. Today was happy music, so I was at peace as I got my run on.

Things were going smooth for me early on in the run. I took a road with no sidewalks, but since it was early in the morning, cars were good about giving me my required three feet of space as they drove by. At about mile four, I saw this 50 year old dude running the other way across the street, and he was going at a good pace. Good for him, I thought, as I gave a friendly wave as we went our separate ways. Shortly thereafter, I heard a bike coming up from behind me so I got to the side as it got on my ass pretty quickly. Then, it turned out that it was just the 50 year old speed demon passing me by. This was the fastest human being alive. I am convinced he is like an Albino Kenyan. I have kept up with most people riding bikes better than I was able to keep up with him. He also had a jacket tied around his waist, and as he got further away, it had the effect of making him look like a superhero. I tried to pick up my pace, but I'm not sure if my Ford Escort could have kept up with him. To top it all off, we chatted a little as he flew by me, which led to him asking me if I was Canadian. I have no idea why he thought I was Canadian. I don't think I look Canadian. I don't think I sound Canadian. My best guess is that he overheard me listening to Alanis Morissette on my run and figured I was doing it for national pride. So, I got passed like a bitch and accused of being Canadian. That is the definition of complete ownage.

When I get completely owned, I need to get revenge. Since I was physically unable to catch The Human Bullet, I decided that I would run further than he did. Sure, he was out of sight, so I have no idea how far he ran, but as long as my heart believes that I ran further than him, I would be fine. A light sprinkle started which actually felt quite nice. This would not feel nice later on.

Like an idiot, I ran...and ran....and ran. The road was new to me, so I got distracted by the pretty trees with their leaves changing colors and the houses I had never seen before. My IQ drops to mentally handicapped when I run, so everything about the world turns truly wondrous for me.

As I entered my third town from my run, I thought, "Cool, let's keep running." I should have thought, "Probably time to head back." But I kept running. Then the road I was on ended, which was another sign to head back, but I saw the Interstate in the distance, so I decided to run on the shoulder of a highway as cars zipped by me. This was not concerning at all, because I was in my mental retardation state, so I was just thinking, "Wow, cars go VROOOM!"

I finally cross under the interstate and decide it is time to head home. My happiness subsides, and I realize that this is not going to be fun. The rain is no longer a sprinkle, as it is coming down pretty hard. About a mile into my adventure on the way back, Adele's "Set Fire to the Rain" gets me way too pumped. Because it's raining. And I'm running really hard, so it is like my feet are on fire. So I'm basically living the song out. And that's not feminine at all, it is totally badass, so I stand by rocking out to Adele.

I'm about halfway back, and it is absolutely pouring. A car pulls over to the side of the road, maybe because they are worried about my well-being. No, they just need directions. I barely know where I am, but I take their map and figure out where they need to go. I am proud of this good deed on my part, but I'm pretty sure they never found the place as they ignored my first direction of, "Turn around."

And on I went. I was completely drenched. I had to stuff my iPod down my underwear to try to save it from the rain. I consistently stepped in puddles filling my shoes with their own tiny, little puddles. Hills were nearly unbearable as I could barely lift my legs high enough to keep moving forward. And there was not enough Adele in the world to keep me pumped. Basically, it sucked.

After 17 miles, I finally stumbled home. I drank a glass of water and ate a banana in about 15 seconds. I then peeled off my clothes, which I think weighed about 10 pounds with all of the water weight, and took a hot shower. I then bundled up, covered myself with two blankets and shivered for the next half hour as I watched a wedding show, as I was too cold to change the channel.

Running is dumb. Don't ever do it...I wonder where I'll run next week.

Never Trust Old People

Never trust an old person.  I know that they say old people have wisdom, and that's all well and good, but if you need actual real world advice, they will completely screw you over.  I found this out the hard way over the weekend.

On Saturday morning, I woke up early, so I could go for a run and make it back home before football started at 11. I got on the road between 8:30-8:45 (I'm never totally sure of the time because I have a routine of pooping and stretching before I get my jog on).  The beauty of a good run is I can totally get in a zone where I pretty much black out and my brain completely shuts down. I was jamming out to some Metallica, and I probably would have worn out Steve Prefontaine at the pace I was going.

I headed down the road, then hit up the bike trail and just kind of kept going because I was in my zone. After a while on the trail, my brain, working at about 5% efficiency thought that the trail curved up to the road; it didn’t, but I didn’t notice until I had already turned so I decided to just go that way.  This would turn out to be a critical mistake.

I thought that this was going to turn out well, because the road actually curved back to my home so I felt that this was actually going to work out. I took a left, figuring that this road would run into at least one of the roads that crosses over near my house. This was mistake number two.

This road is a major road that somehow crosses no other major road, but I keep going, and going...and going down this road. Finally, I see a bike trail. Even though it makes no sense that it was the bike trail I was on, I decide that this was probably the bike trail that I was on. I do notice that the numbers on this bike trail are in the 400s, and the bike trail I originally was on had numbers in the 300s. Since I am an eternal optimist, this is the first time that I am positive that I am lost.

I see an old lady walking her dog on the sidewalk. and I figure this is a great opportunity to get pointed in the right direction.  I ask her for directions to the Hy-Vee on Mills Civic, since I live right by there. She tells me that there’s Hy-Vee’s closer so I should go to them. I explain to her that I really need to go to the one that I suggested. She tells me I was going the total wrong way and points me towards where I need to go. I thank her and am on my way.

I see streets in the 50s and get excited, because I live on 50th, so that means I must be close, right? I keep trying to take 50th, but it ends every three blocks, so I keep zig-zagging to nearby streets to stay close to 50th. This plan probably could have worked had I been in West Des Moines. I wasn't.  I see the Interstate and get excited, because I know I can’t be too far away. I run across it thinking that it shouldn’t be too long until I’m back home, so I keep running.

I run by a giant cemetery, is this foreshadowing my imminent death? Luckily not. I keep running and I see a street named Franklin which rings a bell with me, so I’m excited. I see a street called Hickman, which I also recognize. This depresses me. I have a buddy who lives one block north of Hickman, and he lives in the heart of Des Moines. Shit.

It turns out that the old lady didn’t give me bad directions; she gave me the worst directions possible. Had I kept just running into the bike trail, I would have run into I-35, all I would have had to do was head north, and I would have been back home in very little time. Instead, she sent me in the total opposite direction.

How bad did it end for me? Well, I never really set a distance for my runs, I go out, run, and turn around when I start feeling like shit.  On a day where I felt great, like I did on Saturday, I probably would have gone 6-8 miles.  Instead, I went somewhere around 22 miles. The first 12 miles were actually really smooth, but I got tired, then depressed when I learned where I was, and I finally turned off Metallica to listen to more soothing sounds. After that, I’d still run occasionally, but it was a lot of walking, especially once my calves felt like they were going to explode from cramping. I ended up being outside, in the bitter cold, while absolutely starving, for a little over four hours. I got home, ate something, got all bundled up in different clothes, covered up, and shivered in my bed for the next 45 minutes until my body finally warmed up. Never trust old people.

And yes, this could have been titled Joe Is An Idiot, but my inner compass was actually working until I listened to that old lady. I would publicly like to retract my thank you to her for the directions. Take that, senior citizens.

-Joe

P.S.  There's a lot of good advice here, but I especially love "Put the brakes on the mundane, and accelerate into the fast lane."  I'm guessing this is the way that people lived their life a quarter mile at a time before Fast and the Furious came out:

The Weight Cut: Week 1

If there's one thing I know about women, it's that each and every one of them thinks that they're overweight. Well ladies, I got great news for you; I am going to show you how to lose twelve pounds in twelve days. You might even be able to lose more, because I had to trim weight off a body that is pure twisted steel and sex appeal, while you have a body that is pure jello lady. So here is my retro diary on my first week of weight cutting.

It's Wednesday, and weight cutting is not fun. I knew this going into it, but I thought it would be a good experience that I could look back on and laugh. Currently, I feel no reason for laughter. I basically gave myself twelve days to cut twelve pounds (from 152 to 140). The first three days, I have been trimming down my meals. It’s not that I’m in pain, but I am hungry, and I don’t like being hungry. Honestly, things have been pretty smooth so far, but it’s only the beginning.

After three days of dieting my way, I finally got some advice from one of my coaches, Little John. Now breakfast is my biggest meal, lunch is my second biggest, and dinner is either extremely small or just a protein shake. I’m trying to cut out all solids after 5:00, so that’s kind of a bummer.

Thursday was actually a pretty solid day for me considering everything. I’ve been limiting my food intake, and Thursdays are always the roughest practice of the week, but I absolutely flew through all the conditioning and picked up some snazzy sweeps from guard when we worked on technique. Despite being hungry and having legs that already felt exhausted, I went for a four-mile run that night.

On Friday, I woke up and had a big meal of angel hair pasta and tuna with some sauce to top it off. This is not a glamorous meal, but this is the biggest meal that I have had this week so it was a great delight. After that meal settled, I went for a six mile run around noon. I wanted to get a good run in when the sun was really beating down to try to burn off as much weight as possible. My legs were sore going into it, but I persevered and ended up having a solid, though not spectacular, run. For lunch, my meal got blander as I had brown rice and tuna. Yep, that’s it. But here is the best thing about cutting weight: Every meal tastes awesome. I devoured that meal like it was Benihana. A little after that, I demeaned myself and went to Wal-Mart to weigh myself, because the scale at my gym is unreliable. Let me say, it is extremely awkward to take your wallet, keys, and cell phone out of your pocket, kick off your shoes, and weigh yourself at a Wal-Mart while a 250 pound woman with a cane just stares at you. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t move, she just stared. The good news is that I’m at 148. As long as I’m at 145 or lower, it shouldn’t be an awful day in the sauna when I hit it up on Friday. I’m definitely happy with my progress so far, but each pound is going to get harder and harder to lose.

On Saturday, I went for a three mile run, because I didn't have the energy for more. Saturday night was a depressing experience as I went to Buffalo Wild Wings with my buddy to watch his Oregon State Beavers and my Iowa Hawkeyes. The games turned out well, but I had to order a water and a salad at Buffalo Wild Wings. I'm pretty sure all the waitresses thought I was a fruit.

On Sunday, I ran another four miles before the NFL games started. It's really sad how good all food looks when watching commercials. I can honestly say that at this moment, the Taco Bell Big Box looks like the most glorious thing ever. Watching that commercial, I got a semi. I know that I would have to sit on the toilet while eating that meal, because it would literally drop straight through my system, but Goddamn, at the time, it seems totally worth it.

************

And that's week one of my cut, approximate weight is 147-148 after cutting down on my meals. The first week wasn't awful as I had my pasta, sauce and tuna combo, my brown rice and tuna, and I also allowed myself to have cereal until my milk ran out. My meals get smaller and blander in week two.

-Joe

P.S. I would like to thank the show Mad Men for trying to get me addicted to heroin by describing it in the most awesome way possible. If this doesn't make you want to try heroin, then absolutely nothing will: “It’s like drinking 100 bottles of whiskey while someone licks your tits.” I think I could be pretty satisfied by a lot of activities if someone licked my tits while I was doing it, but maybe that's just me.

P.P.S. Yes, I went to Fat Chicks in Party Hats to get the image at the top.