Titanic Tuesday

Simon on his way to running faster, demonstrates little fluttering bursts of improvement on modest training. A Computer Science major who is the demonstrative social of the group. Every hill deserves it’s verbal abuse and Simon provides it. He is the last to show, but is ready before my trainers are double knotted.

Our run tonight, the 5th or 6th consecutive Tuesday, where we run late (9:00 pm. start) on a route designed to be character building, regardless of one’s effort, hills are our friends for 2 plus hours.

First to arrive is Sly, ready to navigate; after all he designed the route, he, the self destructive masochist. Sly has run well on lower mileage, has recently stuck to light training and being a course measurer/certifier, timer and race director. What he has in store for us looks flat on a map however, I know all too well, it isn’t (flat).

Sunday was just added and now Thursday and or Fridays may happen too. Personally, I run everyday and take days off only during the most dire circumstances.

Sean, the youngest of the group at 22 is in a Bsc program like Simon was, just a few years ago. He has run the fastest times of the group, just barely faster than Sylvan. Sean has a good running ‘tude, ready and willing to run at the drop of a hat. Sean carries a pair of shoes with him, just in case a run opportunity presents itself, wherever he may be.

Yes, we run Tuesdays however, there is supplemental running planned in this suburban/rural environment, Sunday and Monday nights as well. Tuesdays remind me of Pat Benatar singing, “Hell… hell is for children”. We are a pod of orphans on a dusky night prowl.

Craig an area manager of a chain of well known restaurants is the eldest, around my age, so automatically he is older until proven otherwise. Craig chased his grail and caught it, this, the B.A.A. Boston Marathon qualifying time. He has smartly added Tuesdays to his regimen, to augment his training. Craig, Sean and I are currently training for a spring marathon, Sean looking at Ottawa, myself Vancouver.

Immediately we begin our run, with me announcing a slow start, as Sylvan, Sean and I are just fried from a weekend of doubles and racing. Simon too raced a personal best Hatley Castle 8km. So we are wired and ready for a nap. Two turns later and the Sheldon slagging begins, the only member of the group to bail tonight. At this point we don’t know why however, we do not give him the benefit of the doubt, we just slag. Sheldon is as likely to sprint off madly in the middle of a long run, as he is to quaff free beer. Tonight we assume the beer found him first.

Stars, moon, constellations glitter, swiftly brilliant. Tails of feathery cloud wisp transluscent streams northward. We run clip-clap, hither and far, beneath sky of oil on canvas, painted from energy borne from anticipation of a spring let up, expected to follow tomorrow.

We do this clip-clapping throughout the Prospect Lake region, legendary for it’s hills, built on top of other hills. This is where the ‘Highland Grind’ is run, a 20 mile (32km) ass grinding, lactic acid spewing, oxygen debt inducing ball and ovaries character run. A Sunday staple for the old grizzled vets, who would as soon rip open your gullet and chew your protein laced intestines as shoot the shit with you on a run.

Tonight we ran parts of the hallowed region where hoarse thunderous barks were answered by yelps and yaks and oratorical rhetoric.

After heading westerly through the west Burnside region, we headed north and snaked our way through the hills of hell and Prospect Lake legend.

Hence the final arrival of a moderately bonked Sylvan (see remark re: ‘masochist’) we quaffed a quad of ounces of spiced rum and bid ado, as Sylvan sled off into the night with a truck full of knackered men and gullet warmed to the cockles, aye a bonny glass of spiced rum and ye all is forgiven, even thy’self him there Sly fer designing said rrrrroot.

Time: 2:25:00
Distance: Far ‘n flung
Effort: Greatly varied.

- earlier run at lunch 8km or 5miles at work – pace easy.

Tues total: 35km or 22 mi. (103km in three days)

Now Wednesday:

Time: 40:00
Pace: EASY!

Today's bits and pieces

The numbers...quick!
lunch run-
In attendance: Me, Myself and the Hip.
Distance: 7km or 4 mi.
Time....lunch time, who cares.

Evening run-
In attendance: Sean, Sly and myself.
Distance: About 15km or 9 miles.

Daily totals:
22km or some odd number of miles. I dunno divide by 1.62....13...or something.

Lamp on head, on and off, more off.

New shoe test and evaluation:

adidas Supernova Light (pictured here) - buy it, don't ask any questions. This shoe is better for the marathon distance I think, than the Adistar Competition and looks just as extroverted as the other...nice 'n loud.

****Mars on fire, RED****!

So far, my favourite flats or 'near' flats are, with ranking:

adidas Rotterdam 7 of 10 - A little delicate, but otherwise tres scintillating.

adidas Rat Racers 7.5 of 10 - Bought .5 a size to small, toe box made me toenailess my bad...happy feet otherwise, as far as I can tell.

adidas adios2U 9.5 of 10 - I wish I had a hundred pair, they would get a 10 however, I did get a couple of blood blisters on the outside.

adidas Boston - 8 of 10 - Only had one pair before they became the Rotterdam, I think.

adidas adistar Competition - 9.5 of 10 - questionable on a wet road, but feel like a dream cluster funk-chocolate-roll in the hay with 'her'.

adidas Supernova Light - 9 of 10 (caveat: 'so far') haven't run them long yet....to me they have all the flex a rabid contortionist wants, with the uber obnoxious look of, "I am a racing machine, even when I suck" look to them.

There was another pair in mind from years ago...what hell were they called???? hmmmm.

Severe Capitalist, immortalized (a little).

Hatley Castle & Robert Dunsmuir

The man on the right is an ex pat of Scotland, a former orphan, turned Vancouver Island Millionaire, by way of severe capitalism.

He counted dead Chinese coal mine workers by the quantity, he named the Caucasian dead.

Apparently, from sources to remain anonymous, he let the new gray squirrels nibble his nuts, while his wife buried their treasure cache, taken from the backs of fellow humans.

Today there was a race on his old property pictured above. A character course, which requires the balls of the man himself to race it. 8km of climbing and descending, continuous.

I was to run there and race this event, then run back, totalling somewhere in the neighbourhood of 30-36km however, such was not the case, as I tweaked my back on my way out. Not enough to prevent me running at an easy pace, but enough so I can't lean slightly forward on those hills.

Robert would have sent me deep into a mine after that display, but what can I do...

This evening I had a nice easy leg around area trails with Sean and Sly., approx 75 minutes with a taste of hill age.

Today's numbers:

a.m. distance: 30km +/- or 18 mi.

pace: easy

time: too scattered to tell (with watching part of race etc).

p.m. distance 15k or 9 mi

pace: varying easy - medium

time: 75 - 78:00

Total: 45km

Weekly total: 121 km or 74 miles.

Previous 8 days 161 km or 100 miles.

On my horse.

Duplicity. Total dupliciticousness! If that is not actually a word, this'll be your problem (so will my new conjunction) - you should get the point. If not, it's still your problem.

Today's lunch run was to be another easy poke-about, as I intended to make sure I am fully recovered from earlier this week, so I can run a scintillating long run or race the character inducing Hatley Castle 8k on Sunday - with it's plethora of lactic spewing hillage.

The first quarter hour, I wasn't sure if I had a bazillion micro tears amongst the fine threads of dark and light mitochondria, which weave through the greater muscle network or just paranoid. Listening to the Hip, Beatles, Beck, then Beatles again, I started to come around. I am not sure where my horse showed up, but I jumped on for the ride on the whinny and rode back to work possessed in a maniacal state of polyboundinguropia.

I should write a Chrisopedia.

Anyway, I think it was when Paul was singing, That's All Right Mama, from the BBC recordings. Elvis' version is too much of a bad attempt at white blues. The Beatles was R & B and good for radio. I got lost in the rhythm and forgot I was running...the run could have gone on until the stars fall from the sky/for you and I (Doors).

Not every photo needs to be a metaphoric representation of my entry HOWEVER, I am not sure how else to syntaxicate my post, post-jaunt editorial. I felt springy...

...bound....bound....bound...bound....bound...bound...bound...bounding back to work.

And I will tell you, that that's all right with me...mama!

Time: 38:00

Distance: 1000 miles from Nowhere (man!).

Effort: Uber efficient

Hear Rate: deafer than a doorknob.

Bark-a-minute: He was sleeping again.

Intensity: Gawd I laughed

Surface: Pavement

Vertical hold: Automatic

Bass: Uber and harmonic

Equalizer: Flat, I am the equalizer.

Volume: WHAT?

Summitting my fitness soon?

Self portrait.

In short, it's me where I like to run, on the trails. Ankles have been sprained so many times, I am forced to run gingerly on the trails now. As I play with the idea of actually getting fitter than before (could it be so?) I need to run them less. I can't now afford to be off for several weeks from running. NOT NOW! Not ever...but certainly not now.

Today's run was a gentle meander about the Keating area, on pavement with Mr. Noodle at lunch.

I feel much recovered from Sunday-to-Tuesday heavy volume and pace, as to entertain racing the character building Hatley Castle 8km.

Ask me Tuesday and I would say no way. What a difference a d....okay I am not saying it.

Now the question, should I run there and back to and call it a 40k long run?

Time: 38 - 40:00

Distance: 8 km or 5 mi.

Effort: Easy, easier, easiest.

I'm so tired, my mind is on the brink

I'm a pest too.
On my lunch run today, I slip past a large black dog who usually barks his warning for about two minutes.
Today he was sleeping on the lawn.
Seeings that I was running uber easy today, I was going by without a sound. Just to let him know he is literally sleeping on the job, I cleared my throat, just past his property, he lifted his head and barked (looking around frantically) who's there....who's there?
I then hissed at his cat friend who darted across in front of him...causing a chase. I was free.
By the time I came around again, there he was asleep again.
"HACK"
"Rowr Rowr Rowr"!
"Pssssssssssssst"
"Rowr.....RowrRowrRowr".
I laughed myself back to work.

Time: 35:00
Effort: Meow.

Deep woods, deep minds, Depends and deep ends.

Deep into the woody bazillion acre stand of Thetis Lake Park, Freemen King and the other surrounding parks, we stood in amongst trees. They stood watch like perpteral architecture, just at the periphery of our ambient light, cast by our head lamps. This, at 10:oo p.m., 12, 13, 14 km into our jaunt, the five of us, Craig, Simon, Sly, Mr. Noodle and I.

The following are quotes, which I lay witness to (or uttered myself).

"The trail must be here somewhere".
"Damn this flood is cold".
"What's at the end of that downed tree"?
"I am not sure where we are".
"The Solal is waist deep here".
"Oh, how did we get here"?
"Oh".
"Shit that's a waterfall".

Once we found out where we were, we were 3 or 4 k not where we meant to be, which meant more running over ground we have already covered.

I'm not big on back tracking. Mr. Noodle cut his leg again, just like when he went for a canal swim in November.

Mr. Noodle displayed typical anti-social behavior by sprinting past us, full tilt. Forcing the pace and getting himself shot out the back again, over and over again, throughout the night.

Nothing like leading from the rear.

At one point we had:

1.)Mr. Noodle, heading for a hedge, full tilt.
2.)Simon yelping foot deep in a stream
3.)Sly, wondering how the hell he got us, to wherever we were, which none of us are certain of including him.
4.)And how I managed to only twist my right ankle 2 or 3 times on the gravelly fire road.
Distance: 25km +/-
Effort: Greatly varying, depending on which short man went sprinting by and when.
Time: 2:11:00 gross, 1:56:00 net.
A snifter of Crown Royal and all is forgiven.

Last three days 60 miles or 95km. If I keep that up I will run over 200km this week. Not likely.

A 5 am run.

This is a Sailfish we caught in the Bay of Banderas 110 pounds, a 5 minute fight, then he came to us, like a snivelling runt. Beat and exhausted (like me).

Tonight we are running a good one. To be reported on later, meanwhile, I am scheduling a lunch nap. Up at 4:00 a.m. to see Amber off to skiing, aboard the school bus. I decided that since I am up anyway, I might as well run.

I could have just gone back to sleep. Like a fish on the deck, I really wanted to dive back in (to bed)...now I wish I had.

a.m. run -

Time: 41:37

Effort: moderate fight

Distance: I can't fathom that, right now.

We Cued up a little supplemental running.

Emphasis on the supple 'mental'. Three in the night and rain, looking for some additional mileage. One was fresh, one was completely not fresh and we will never know about the other.

Forget it.

We ran into Broadmean around a bit and back as a prelude to tomorrow, where we will do a classic 2hr, hilly jaunt. Crown Royal will be the reward this week, instead of Hermannator.

Yesssss.

Todays totals:

Noon:

Distance: 8km or 5 mi

Pace: Varied easy.

On board: Mr. Noodle and Barb.

Night:

Distance: 13.138764587655 km. (Gawd I'm good.) or 8 miles.

Pace: Varied easy/medium/steady, but never fast.

On board: Mr. Bambam and Captain BarneySly.

Last three weeks:

113 km or 70 miles

94 km or 58 miles

117km or 72 miles

Predictions this week:

Crown Royal

130km and or 80 miles +/-

I'm the master.

Post workout post.

Not everything hurts as it should. The effect from yesterdays 40k run should result in hurt today. Even with delayed onset soreness, which typically plague master athletes, I should hurt straight up, post 40k run.

What self respecting, recreational runner does a workout, which requires almost exactly 3 hours and covers 40 kilometers of pavement while doing so?

Okay I act less like a recreational runner, but am one, whether I like it or not.

Yesterdays 40k was one of those workouts, where I was prepared to challenge my resolve. When the going gets tough, I was at the ready, to beat myself up with guilt and extraneous motivational techniques; mind-prairie dogging - peek in and see if I am still there. To boldly go where no man has gone before.

This would have worked, had I needed it, but I didn’t. I did little more than remind myself what repeat I was on. I also marvel at how repeat one, seemed too easy, repeat 2 seemed easy, repeat 3 seemed hard, but no problem, then 4 and 5 were very tough. But there was no walking away. Plus I ran to my workout destination, so there was no escape. I still, at least had to run 8km home.

Getting home was a little tougher on the legs and less tough on the mind. I visualized food, knowing all and sundry will taste fabulous and a little book time on the couch will be an incredible delight, where I will nod off without realizing it and hear all the sounds around me while I sleep - the most delicious sleep of all. What with birds chirping, distance dog with little yaps and a neighbour’s chuckle.

Who am I kidding? Once I was home, it was time to remove trees that sustained wicked storm damage, clean windows from the outside, wash truck and car and vacuum them as well. Sweep out garage, do dishes, clean bathroom downstairs, hang laundry and pick-up and drop off kid number 2 as bookends to some chores.

Maybe I am not sore from the effect of carrying out all the chores?

Next time its 50k and I will sleep in the garage, hidden from those mundane duties .

Todays workout

41:00 warm up.
39:00 cool down +/- 30 seconds.
5 x 4k at marathon pace, attempted.
4 x 1k floats.

4k 17:02
1k 4:45
4k 17:15
1k 4:48
4k 17:25
1k 4:44
4k 17:15
1k 4:47
4k 17:12

Too windy to run with a good rhythm. 4k was actually 4.1 so shortened it, still not accurate. MP based on 2:55 - obviously the route is a.) not totally accurate and the wind messed with me some. 2:55 effort should be well under 17...hmmm.

Total 40k.

I cheat no one, tomorrow.

I ask myself, why bother?
I possess no answer to match my commitment.
Tomorrows workout could be great. I have a plan, that might make tomorrows workout my best ever. Pondering my past, this might mean nothing. I am hoping to push the limit, by myself; so far, that perhaps I may appreciate the workout in it's context forever. And maybe I will refer to it with a distant glare, like Marlon Brando. Or I will refer to it with a wave of my hand like there's no life left, when shooing the pesky fly in a hot sticky summer afternoon.

I'd like to build a new and bigger envelope and a larger board room table, to push it across.
I want that envelope to flutter in the air like a feather from a wing, taken flight. One end up, then like a pendulum, the other end up until it lands without a sound and scatters gray dust bunnies under the chair.

Or not bother at all.

Once I sparred for 22 rounds with various training partners. Usually 6 was a workout, 10 was pre-fight crazy and 12 was to be watched. I got stung and my knees wobbled, I snapped a jab by letting my teetering body weight move forward... almost falling...timely. Accidentally sat down my sparring partner for the night, no one noticed my faux pas, except a wise coach, who winked.
Tomorrow there will be no sparring partner.
I cheat no one.

Short one today

Feeling awfully tired today, I decided to make my lunch run the usual distance, but pepper it up with a little fartlek. Tonight I may reside on the couch for a few hours. Recorded the Grammy's and may watch that with a Hermannator. Seeings that Red Hot Chili Peppers made an appearance - why not.

Or sleep early and long.

Todays total:

8km or 5mi.
Four longer surges including two hills, a long gradual one over 500m and a 300m steep one.

I was too tired to run last night, but went on an epic dark and hilly adventure anyway. I am not sure where the strength came from for either runs!

I'm whipped.

Wicked.

That's what it is, 'wicked'.

Going into tonight's run I was toast. I sent out an email to the crew saying, I am toast, wiped, lethargic and beat (or something to that effect) But I am coming out anyway.

Sean, Simon, Craig and I convened at the next corner, Mr. Noodle, was too hungover from Vodka, to come out. The test of a man is his ability to sleep on a park bench in the pouring rain, have his balls frozen in a ditch and most importantly run drunk out of his mind. Mr. Noodle, passed the first two and actually passes the latter occasionally, but I think Big bad Bill is sweet William now, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, we ran two epic hours tonight through the Prospect Lake region, no lights, no cars, no problem. The hills were still there, Simon cried like a baby, but he made it through. At the end of the season they don't ask "how", the ask "how many" and he scored.

How many? - 24km in the evening, followed by a social Hermannator.

Daily toil: 34km or 21 miles.

Sunday , Monday and Tuesday I have run 80km or 50 miles, which project out to 200 billion miles for the week.

G'night.

What's an Onomatapoeia with you?

Ted:

"I'm finally going to kill you"!

Lemon: "Oh no"!

Ted: *BAM!*
Ted: "Why aren't you dead"?
Lemon: "You didn't shoot me. You just made a bam noise with your mouth".

For Hysterical Woman everywhere. They still exist don't they?

__________________________________________________________

Today I did a shake down, rattled out the soon to form scar tissue (I am sure) and shook out anything collecting in the blood stream, including any remaining lactic acid.

First run:

Noon lunch run, easy, kapow!

40:00

Second run:

Post supper shake out, with Sean & Arturo, wooosh!

73:00

Onomatopoeia - adjectives from hell. I think the 'civilized' union of aplomb and erectness would disapprove, BAM! like that.

Race #3 Report, Cedar 12km. (Nanaimo).

For all you non-runners, I got a 4th in my age group. Last race a 9th and first race of this series a 3rd. See, it all depends on who shows up. If all the fast 40-44 athletes showed up...well let's not go there.

Drove up and back to Nanaimo with Simon and back with Lorne, Simon buying me a much needed Americano at the awfully evil and lovely and mean and beautiful Starbucks; saved me from total brain waste. Or fuelled the remaining cells I put away for such days. Mr. Noodle calls post race, impersonating a German, scaring the crap out of my family. Always look over your shoulder, when you feel creeped out (for now on Mr. Noodle). It's me.
Chris wrote: "Nice to have - 729 points 45:54, matching my pb.
Expected - 715 points 46:51"
I reported (above) I'd like to achieve those numbers. Honestly, I thought that 46:51 would be a small stretch and I would be satisfied with 'sub 47:00'.
I started my warm up feeling that everything is typical, standard, average, normal, regular, nothing new, nothing exciting, to get excited about. Strides were good, but I always feel faster than I actually am when doing warm up strides. I'm a Jack Russell with a complex, complex.
Loitering at the start line, I thought if I am going to expect an improvement out of myself, I am going to have to push the envelope and see what happens with that tactic. Often when starting a race, I watch the runners who are a minute faster than me, get THAT minute up on me early. Then I sit there, a minute out, until the end. So here I was thinking, I will go out with that aforementioned group and see if I can sit on them for 12 whole kays of the race.
1km at 3:46 with runners I drafted; being smaller is a great advantage as gentlemen Roger Plamondon and Gary Duncan are well over 6'., drafting them is like buying the bread maker and having someone else make the bread too, this seemed to work.
At 3k I was thinking, if I can hang onto this group for a few more k, I will hang on and finish roughly where I usually do, no harm no foul....but no gain. At the turnaround, just passed the half way mark of 6k, I was still hanging with these guys wondering when the other wall of shoes will drop. Here are my splits at this point:

1k 3:46
2k 7:30?
5k 18:39 - Which is as fast as I usually manage a 5k total!

By 8km I bumped Roger so many times, I said, "you are going to kill me after the race". So thinking if I could speak at that point, I need to go faster. I was working with this group so nicely, we fed off each other, or I fed - having drafted these guys quite tightly. So at this point I took off hard on the downhill. I love downhills, I usually go better on 'em. I was feeling so good - I feared the other shoe will drop soon regardless of what I do here so getting my arse handed to me propelled this opp - let them catch me; gone brazen, stupidity already resides here, what a package!
After the beautiful down, there was an equal and opposite up, which I completely wasted my self on, breeding and breathing my own organic exhaust. Crawling, hanging on to the pace, wishing that I had played it safe and stayed where I was, in the group of masters, I really regret that moment, even now.
But I hung on to the pace for dear life, passing 10km in 38:14? I think about there, which is 35 seconds faster than at the Mill Bay 10km two weeks ago and then I have two hilly kays to go, now what have done?
Pidder padder, I hear those monsters creeping up on me, "hi guys"...I guess it's all over now, time to pack up my props and go home, be sure to tip your waitress...
But I hung on and hung on hanging, gasping and grasping and flailing, making it in ahead of some of the group anyway and just a handful of delicious seconds behind the others. 46:07 my time.
WOW! nearly a minute better than I had really expected. FINALLY a taste of improvement.

Damned straight uber epicicity.
I finally deserve my Hermannator tonight.
2nd run tonight was an easy 42:52 around the neighbourhood.

Todays total 26km

Cedar 12km prediction for myself.

This may appear to be a rather self serving post, 'prediction for myself'. I can't agree more! Voila! I am serving me. Dang straight.

All seriousness aside, it is important to know one's own fitness level and capabilities; they are exclusive from each other. Some runners never find out how fast they can be. I may never find out, therefore I do not currently know my own capability, this will be a larger quest, to be tackled over a lifespan.

I am always intriqued most, when reading a book or watching a movie with the 'discovery part'. One's own fascination with their own situation. With Superman, played by the recently departed Christopher Reeve, it was the running beside his friend's car on the road, while they drove at high speeds. I was running with Supe. I was totally entertained with the sheer wonder and joy of his discovery.

Harry Potter, when he was informed that he is a wizard by Gameskeeper, Keeper of Keys and half giant, Rubeus Hagrid after growing up neglected.

Spiderman, when he flips out and scales the side of a building, because he was discovering his spidey-ness and had a look on his face like he had just won a free trip to wherever he wanted in the solar system; not aware of the responsibility to society, which loomed. That part, the responsibility was drudgery for me, with the villain and all that, the story has been told.

"Use the force Luke"...what a moment! What with the letting go and then the letting in of a force that was heretofore not much more than a fairy tale....BA...BOOM, instant hero. Lucas saved that for the very end - EPIC.

Yeah and the Newton's Apple thing is pretty cool too.

I am not really waiting or looking for that BA...BOOM or anything. I am looking for control, the understanding that I have the power to consistantly train better and get those results. A mediocre goal is in the back of the mind 24/7.

A little improvement is expected this Sunday at Cedar 12k. Not much, nothing earth shattering, just a few more series points faster, just a few seconds per mile, simply less than a single percent faster than at Mill Bay...half of that, even!

Are we there yet?

715 to 718 (old calculation) series points or 46:39 to 46:50. I ran a 45:54 a few years ago, so this is a short term seasonal quest only.

Todays 400m w/o, looks slow and they were meant to be. If I wanted, I could have done all 10 under 70 each (1:10). It would have hurt, but if there was a medal at the end of the 10 repeats, I would have done that no problem. Running 90-ish felt like a jog, but if I quadruple the value, there we are a 10k pace, which equals a 720+ point race.

Am I there yet? NO. But some of those little stops on the way to there, are little 'are we there yets' which I may be able to answer yes to, soon.

I am not stepping out of this moving vehicle, until I get there or until I don't get there and the engine dies, trying.

Goal:

Nice to have - 729 points 45:54, matching my pb.
Expected - 715 points 46:51

Workin' out the workout

Lunch run today with Mr. Noodle was as follows:

2km warm up easy, 3 km cool down, easy. Plus 10 x 400m at 10km race pace....or a little faster. Almost no recovery between intervals, like 10 - 15m out and back jogging.

The 400m stretch is a straight road, which has two hills one way and well two the other, except one is short and steep and the other goes south 150m before it flattens out. This is a more real environment for road racing than the track however, not conducive for perfect splits, great for getting a sense of rhythm.

1 - 88
2 - 93
3 - 89
4 - 91
5 - 88
6 - 93
7 - 88
8 - 91
9 - 89
10-90

All felt too easy.

Evening run will be easy, tonight.

I'm having a Hermmanator right now.

Although I could not find a picture of a proper Hermannator, I have used this photo from the Vancouver Island Brewery website. A Hermann's; it's little brother. Voted on more than one occasion to be a top ten beer of the world.

Personally I rank it just ahead of Guinness, Boddington's and Rickard's Red as number 1 and in fifth, Hermann's, pictured here, of course.

See this beer sells out by mid-December after being introduced to the market in early December. Here I am having one in February. I am a most fortunate individual.

I am celebrating Wiarton Willy not seeing his shadow, Canucks winning again, my son moving a year ahead in English in mid year, and this bag of chips sitting here.

I doubled again, yes I am also celebrating that too.

The numbers are as follows -

Noon:

Distance: 8km or 5 miles.

Effort: Easy-med-fartlek.

Soccer practice - doesn't count.

9:00 pm:

Distance: 21k or 13 miles.

Effort: Easy-med-steady strong.

Total today: 29km - 18 miles.

Is winter backing off, Pilgrim?

Pistol whipped by a brooding moody Dirty Harry Winter, he standing tall and moving swift, with cocky swagger and steely-eye glare, stalking on punks who think they feel lucky. Beat us within an inch of our sanity. Each and every week.

We must have recoiled or flinched, as Dirty Harry Winter walked slowly away. Yeah he turned around and spat at us, last week. I think he's headed down that dusty road. A long lonely walk, where maybe he'll run into some trouble worth fixin'.

Staring down the charcoal gray magnum barrel, I saw too many days where Dirty Harry Winter cockily staggered up and let loose a torrent of knuckles, elbows and pistol grips.

Now that he may have just left Dodge, I just don't want a Jack Nicholson spring. Laughed at by an insane moodstorm, Jacked up Jack, drunken and rude.

I'll take a Jessica Simpson spring, all Rosy cheeked and grins and pointy things, followed by a Penelope Cruz summer, hot like a Brazilian beach; my happy place.

To celebrate this possibility I doubled, again.

At noon, Mr. Noodle (now that's a tough sounding name) and I ran 9km in a Christopher Walkin fog, almost warm, almost dry and definitely an eyebrow furrowed into a wee comic breeze.

At night, Simon ran up with some beer, which Arturo spotted form nearly a block away. No wonder he is called El Alcon, 'The Hawk'. He probably saw the beer before that and certainly tried to claim it, requiring a good ass kicking to get it back. I ran it (belated birthday gift) to the garage, not realizing it was a 6 pack of HERMANNATOR!

In February?

This is a Pamela Anderson February, thanks Simon!

We missed Sean C who UVicked late, ass sign mints!

Ran about the Glanford area as I have been promoting by email lately. Broadmead, Royal Oak and back to Glanford....

The stats:

Noon:

distance: 9km or 6mi.

time: ?

pace: easy start - med finish

7:00 p.m:

distance: 14k or 8mi

time: 70:00??

hr: low thunder after eating two burgers. (should have heard Arturo)

pace: easy, medium, then steady.

Total: 23k or 14mi.

Yippekayaye.

The Weekly Long Run

Standing outside at the unruly hour of 6:13 a.m., enjoying the rain, totally anticipatory of the arrival of Mr. Noodle, my spidey senses were telling me that he would not show today. This, even though it is me who likes to sleep in and me who sacrificed a few zeds, to knock off our weekly long run, building to a spring marathon. He for sure is going to run the good run at the Edge-to-Edge Marathon, Tofino to Ucluelet. I am looking at Vancouver International Marathon - makes it sound more important, with that 'international' bit.

He shows up a little late, 15 minutes, explaining that he needed to make coffee and fight off the minis, who apparently were after him.

Little clones with little bones,
wake early just to show
who rules the home

Been there! DONE THAT. Hence the ability to NOW sleep.

We were going to run my Lochside/Mt. Doug/Cordova Ridge/Elk-Beaver route, totalling 32 km....somehow however there wasn't a lot of light at this hour, so we headed south by way of Glanford/Tillicum/Colville/Admirals/Songhees/Wharf/Government/Belleville/Dallas/
Breakwater out-and-back/Dallas/Beacon Hill/Quadra/Yates/Blanshard/Carey/Glanford...etc.

Run was easy, but consistent, wet, but mild and filled with conversation for 90% of it. The silent parts punctuated by loud foot falls, cars and the site of hungover teens JUST heading home.

Not a spectacular run, but I know that the first few long runs are always a little drag ass.

Time: 2:40:20
Pace: 7:40+ per mile - felt very easy.
Distance: 20-21 miles or 32 - 33 k.
Hr: it was in the low 40s upon waking, who the hell knows what happened after that. I will mention though it sure popped up after my monster coffee.

First bigger week of marathon training:

117km or 72 miles.
1 speed session
2 long runs

Past few weeks:

117km 72 miles
83km 51 miles
78 km 48 miles
79km 48 miles
30km 18 miles (in Mexico)

Quickly here...

At Elk Beaver with Arturo for a snappy little lap plus a k.

6:45/50 per mile pace. Still talking...but true to fashion Arturo talked nearly non-stop.

Distance: 11k or 7mi
Pace: Peppy
Time:46 Min.

Rogue geekdom

Here I received from running dude friend, pic from Cross Country Nationals, where all Harrier teams either did well or decimated their competition. My masters team came second despite my faux pas. Teammate: Gary Duncan, super tall smiler in back and fellow Harriers, Aaron Holmgren and Sandi Heal. The three lookalikes on the end ran for us Harriers in the juniors and totally kicked ash.

__________________________________________________________________

Rougue Geekdom

A rogue and inconvenient truth flutters and twists; a torsion of fact, malleable best with self deprecation and a Guiness, like a moth drawn to evening summer light. Until death does it part, will moth cease its flip-flapping vigil to it’s beaming lordship of luminescence.

What is this inconvenient truth I speak of?

I’m a fantastic running geek in-the-making. Although currently I have waned a degree, it is not unlike me to rattle off some stray fact about an anonymous runner or semi-elite local athlete. Cliff Claven aside, and accepting geekdom for what it is, I am equally both appallingly ashamed and secretly proud, (only a little proud) of my polygeekitis.

Today on our lunch run, Mr. Noodle, breathed, “you should have been there”, knowing of my geekdom issue. He was referring to an athletics Gala, which he had invited me out to. There was a trivia game played amongst the athletes, supporters, sponsors and other random guests.

I say, “okay throw me a sample question then”. Mr. Noodle throws me a question and I have it answered before he even provides the multiple choice choices that everyone else were privy to last night.

Hmmmm!

We continued our jaunt o'er Bear Hill and along Oldfield, dealing with the truth that lies within my Pentium 1; yes, I am rendered obsolete. But like any good old Pentium 1., if you can get it to start up and limit the number of files it needs to recognize and programs and plug-ins it needs to run, it will provide perfect binary code switching.

We cantered in, suggesting I may have the wings to be able to put this inconvenient truth to good use. We discussed the fact that the greatest coach in hockey history, Scotty Bowman, never made the NHL as a player. It is no secret Scotty is a feather short of a rumpled turkey.

The truth was discussed and pondered. Perhaps if I do something with it, the truth won’t be so inconvenient after all.

If you should see me doing any more of that crazy organizing stuff, like the Tour de Rock 5k & 3k race, that's me, doing something to appease the binary switching, flip-flapping, like G.W. Bush in front of the media.
__________

Today Soliel, my friend, shone through the veil, gently warming us. Soliel has to go now, but will return soon in part and in whole. For the weekend, we must carry on, holding faith close and practising the law of running; the trial of the miles.

Today by the numbers:

Distance: 8k or 5 mi.

Time: Lunchtime.

HR: Flatline.

Pace: Conveniently easy.

Plan for the weekend:

10-15 km at a steady pace Saturday.

32 km Sunday.

Am I gutsy enuff?

I admit to humour theft on rare occasion.

Gutsy and Ballsy enuff distinction:

GUTSY - Arriving home late after a night out with the b'hoys, being met by the wife with a broom in her hands, and having the guts to ask:

"Are you still cleaning, or are you flying somewhere?"

BALLSY - Coming home late after a night out with the same said b'hoys, smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping the wife on the butt and having the balls to say: "You're next."

I think running is one of the easiest things I do, no matter how beat up I feel.

Todays numbers -

Time: Oops.

Distance: 8km or 5mi.

HR: it ticked and bumped along.