Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Gumpin' It

Wherever I was going, I was runnin-g.

With winds steady at 35 mph and 43 mph gusts, it's quite possible on my running commute home last night somebody was yelling, "Ee too windy fo dat" but I wouldn't know.

And so I say again, is that the best you can do, old man winter? Ha!

Distance:
* 5 miles

Conditions:
* 28 F with Heavy winds and blowing snow
* Packed snow and black ice

Clothing:
* Thermal
* Tech shirt
* Mittens
* Tuke
* Reflective Vest & backpack
* Nylon shell pants

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Welcome to Iowa

Today I had a few firsts on the afternoon bike ride with Munson and Bryan.

For instance, it was the first time that I rode my bicycle in Iowa. Yeah, that's some braggin' rights. As the crow flies, Iowa is only six miles from my house, but the thought of going there is like traveling into Eastern Europe. For one, you have to ride nearly 20 miles to get to a bike friendly bridge to cross the mighty 'Mo. What's funny is that bridge requires bicyclists to pay a toll (another first) to cross it. Um, could you stamp my passport too, please? To top it off, after crossing the bridge, you're greeted by a go-go bar in a corn field. Awesome! It's no wonder that former Mayor Hal Daub labeled Iowa a Triple-X rated state.

It was also the first time I crossed a major river (Missouri) on a bicycle, and I did that one twice. Yee-haw!

However, it wasn't the first time that I bonked. That happened about five miles before paying the troll at the bridge. I remember at mile 52, right after Munson announced that we'd take the next few miles easy into a stiff head wind. Moments before, I had just ridden a longish stretch in a pre-bonking panic. You know, the type of panic where your brain is telling you if you just ride a little faster, you can somehow get done quicker, eat like a pig and sleep the sleep of the dead. Heck, when the brain is in that fragile state, it makes sense. What a rookie.

So thereafter, I was struggling to hang on to the wheel in front of me. I think Munson was riding no hands while Bryan was doing wheelies. Meanwhile, I'm back there in a stupor of self-doubt while the quads are a raging 5 alarm fire. We were only going like 11 mph and then the tiniest of tiny hills leading up to a graded RR crossing pushed me over the red line.

BOOM!

Mike and Bryan were gracious to slow to allow me to latch on their wheel again. Then, the next three miles and a hellish climb to the bridge loomed. I snarfed down my final Gu and gulped the remaining Gatorade. That sugar lasted all of 30 seconds, or enough to clear my head to fully comprehend the doom that awaited. It's sad. It's funny. Whatever it is, blow up #2 happened about 200 meters before the climb at the bridge.

Oh, the agony. The suffering. Yes, I'm going to wake up in a cold sweat tonight remembering this one, fellas. Guaranteed.

So there it is. 69 miles in 4 hours. The heart rate monitor recorded 2900 calories. Dang!

There aren't too many things that I enjoy doing for four hours. Or three. Or two or even one for that matter. OK, let's be real. There aren't too many things I like doing for more the three minutes. But somehow, this four hour ride to Glenwood, Iowa was a lot fun.

Thanks for the ride, Bryan and Mike.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Eee Too Co Fo Dat!

While running home from work yesterday, this dude slows his car to yell out the window, "Eee too co fo dat!!"

Fortunately, I was raised right. With a proper viewing of Airplane! to my creds, this cracker replied, "Ain't nothin' but a thaaang!"

Truly, it wasn't that bad yesterday afternoon. At 11°F it was certainly cold outside, but it was 15 degrees warmer than earlier that morning. And with the amount of heat generated when running and dressed adequately, it can actually be enjoyable.

But I can remember a time when I probably would've thought the same. Habitually walking in extremely cold temperatures without a hat and gloves will quickly reinforce the attitude that winters are not to be trifled with. But it doesn't have to be this way! Dress appropriately and the attitude will soon change.

It's also somewhat relative. What's uncomfortable to me is more likely bearable for a Minnesotan, and for a Minnesotan, an Alaskan, etc... Also, motivation has a lot to do with it. Plenty of people go skiing in much more extreme conditions, but ask them to consider going for a run outdoors in the winter? Forget it. It's like, no way, man...IT TOO CO FO DAT!!

Well that's all this honky has to say on this subject.

Golly!

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Mutually Omaha's Wild Kingdom

Today on Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, we have traveled to one of the dismal regions of the Midwest: Omaha, Nebraska, where the temperatures started out at -6°F with -35 wind chill factor.

We have been tracking this bipedal male who has chosen to go against the grain of civilization. On this bitterly cold winter morning, he has opted to leave the comfort of a warm bed and venture out into the godforsaken cold.

Our good fellow Jim Fowler has caught up with him as he's trudging along...

Jim: Like the stoic emperor penguins of the Antarctic, who travel over 70 miles to feed and who endure the brutal -50 degree temperatures and 60 mile an hour winds months on end, who is this man and why does he run through Elmwood park? What mysterious reason is his motivation? Is it for survival of the species? For sex drive? Food? Here he comes now...

Brady: Ah! Is that Jim Fowler?! You scared the crap out of me about that emperor penguin jabber!

Jim: (teeth chattering) What brings you out on this epic trek this morning?

Brady: Epic? This isn't Beowolf, Jim. I'm just out for a simple run to morning swimming practice. It's not too bad if you bundle up and keep moving. Hey Jim, don't you have anything better to do with your time?

Jim: (huffing) Yes, but it was Marlon's idea to get me out here in the cold. Anyway, you could be at home sleeping in the warmth of your abode. Instead, you venture out into the frozen world with angst like polar bears on melting ice caps.

Brady: Angst? Jim, really, who writes your scripts? Listen man, I just heard an owl hooting in the woods about a quarter mile back. Why don't you save some of your rhetoric for the lonesome plight of the horned owl in search of emaciated winter field mice? I think Marlon will still be satisfied with your suffering, I mean story. Tudaloo and enjoy!

Jim: Well, that's all I got here, Marlon. A strange fellow indeed. I'll see you back in the studio in a few minutes to wrap this up over hot coffee. Back to you....

Marlon: That's a good idea he had about the owl. Why don't you go look into that?

Jim: ...

Marlon: Jim? What do you say old boy? That owl...

Jim: (muttering incoherently) Right! What the hoot? Let's go check on that bird. That's all for now, back to you!....my fricking nuts are frozen. Oh shit! Is the mic still on? Sorry, Marlon!...Marlon?

Marlon: Er, ah....Until next time, I'm Marlon Perkins and remember: each and every creature, including the horned owl and my good man Jim, is a valuable and irreplaceable part of.. the wild Kingdom!

Monday, February 18, 2008

How bout dat 500 Cooter!

I find it interesting commentary about our society that in the midst of high fuel prices, we blissfully ignore the pain at the pump and tune in mass numbers to watch the superbowl of NASCAR.

I like racing, just not auto, motorcycle, snowmobile or tractor racing. I'm still a fan of old school Speed Racer, and the recent Pixel Animation's Cars was entertaining. In fact, it's scary how many of the references to the auto racing I caught in that movie and I'm not even a fan. But the racing I enjoy are those powered by the human heart as opposed to machine.

But don't get me wrong. It would be frivolous to suggest 50+ cyclists riding silently around the Daytona track with a crowd on the edge of their seats, waiting for a bike #5 being nudged into the wall or spinning out into the infield. As if.

It's just that yesterday's race was yet another reminder that the whole "green" thing is exactly that: green. It's quite clear that America cares relatively little about carbon footprints as we drool over race cars going 500 miles in a gratuitous display of American strength and excessive fuel consumption. You would never know that so many people are struggling to make ends meet, considering the hundreds of thousands that drove their cars at least 10 miles each to attend yesterday's race. And then there's the rest of us who plopped down after driving the five miles or so for a bucket of KFC's best to stuff our faces while watching the big race on the boob tube.

Yes, I say: WOE TO YOU, EXCESSIVE GASOLINE BURNERS! Don't you care that we're destroying our environment with our not-so-green footprint? C'mon, man, it's time to wake up and smell the fermenting soybeans!

And speaking of going green, the Smithsonian recently had an interesting piece about the troubles of the bio-fuel industry. While some of the efforts are legitimate, many "bio-fools" are throwing stupid money at this fledgling industry. For example, burning coal to produce enough heat to ferment corn creates more pollution than refining gasoline alone. That, and it takes like 10,000 acres of corn fields to produce 50 gallons of corn fuel -- enough for a modest 4 cylinder car's weekly consumption. In Indonesia, the world's most biologically diverse rain forests are being burned to create palm tree plantations for bio-fuel. It's bad enough that these areas are disappearing, but burning the peat moss ground cover produces more pollution per square foot than the air quality inside your crazy cigar-smoking uncle's Escalade. That ranks developing country Indonesia #3 on the worst polluters scale, right behind China and USA.

So go Green! Woooo!

By the way, did you see the race 'cause I chose to do a 13 mile run instead. I missed all of the adrenalin pumping wrecks. I missed all of the tributes and mantras reminiscent of Fight Club -- "His Name is Dale Earnhart" -- chanted by the scores. And I missed the spectacular finish with the rubber burning peel outs. Dang.

But c'mon, did I really miss that much?

Well, I am curious to know how Dick Trickle did...

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Do Your Worst

Another single digit day in Omaha to provide an opportunity for character building during today's long run. Along the way, I snapped this image of UNO's track, the place I do intervals in the sweltering heat and humidity of the summer. No, there was no such fun today.

Ah, and now is the winter of our discontent.

Punxsutawney Phil has recently called for six more weeks of winter, to which I say, "Do your worst." Besides, the days are getting longer and I've heard birds singing in the morning last week. So go right ahead winter, be my guest, for your day is about done.

I've long given up resisting the poor weather and am just dealing with it. I'm swimming, lifting and riding the trainer indoors, while bearing the brunt of the cold during outdoor runs. I suppose I could do the treadmill thing, but I absolutely hate it. Do you agree with me that the only exercise equipment more insanely boring than the trainer is a treadmill? Anyway, if dressed properly, running outside really is bearable in almost any condition.

Workout Details:
Temp: 6°F with 16 mph northern gusts
Distance: 12.7 miles
Elapsed time: 1:40
Pace: 7:52 min/mile
Avg BPM: 152
Max BPM: 178
Calories: 1328 from 40% fat

Clothing:
* 1 long sleeve tech shirt
* 1 Duo fold long sleeve poly top
* 1 long sleeve woolie PI cycling jersey
* 1 Duo-fold long johns
* 1 nylon shell running pants
* Smart wool socks with toe warmers
* glove liners, gloves, tuke and scarf

Other Comments:
The toe warmers were like blow torches about an hour into the run. I ditched them out of fear of getting nasty chemical burns or blisters. Thankfully, I got neither. Also, it's interesting to see the different freezing points between water and electrolyte infused Gatorade. After the run, the fuel belt water bottles were a block of ice while the Gatorade bottles were only slushy.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

The Next Generation of Athletic Support

Bryan's recent postings on new cycling gear has left an empty void in my covetous heart. While I've only recently claimed to be a triathlete who can now participate in the fun of getting new bike gear, my roots remain in running. And let's face it: there isn't a whole lot of running gear to get worked up about.

But let's take a brief look nonetheless:

Shoes
Buying a new pair of shoes has the nearly the same euphoric rush as when I went to Buster Brown's for a new pair of kickers back in the day. With a whoosh of sweet neoprene sweatshop air, the olfactory nerves are saturated with delight as the salesperson opens the shoe box, slips it on and laces it up with a maddening fury. Then it's your time to pretend to run around the store while trying to decide if it's a keeper. You jog. You hop. You stop and start. Whew! After a few minutes of this silliness, you can return to your seat. You then see the dilapidated pair that carried you through rain & shine and into the shoe store that very day. They were once as shiny as the pair on your feet. Sigh. Giving the thumbs up, you tell the salesperson to box the old shoes. Nothing escapes being putting in a box at the end of their life.

The Elite Jock
Cinching shoe laces? Big whoop. Racing singlets and running shorts? How depressing. An honorable mention could be the Bike Performance Elite Jock Strap BASP11. This jock has moisture wicking fabric with anti-microbacterial material. Best of all, it has a contoured pouch for "the next generation of athletic support" (Fresh Pair website --sorry folks, I'm not providing a picture for this one). That jock must be amazing, though. At least, that's what the ad wizards would have you believe. What a job: writing descriptive ads for jockstraps.

Hmmm. Do you suppose it pays well?

For the record, I don't jock it. In fact, the only people that I'm aware that wear those things are professional baseball, football, hockey players and high school football coaches.

So there's the big running gear review. Looks like I've got about another 300 miles before my current treads get boxed for the next generation of athletic foot support.

Sunday, February 3, 2008

Time On My Hands, undo_2

This afternoon, Katherine rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue before saying, "You and your blog. You're always typing on that computer."

Don't get me wrong about Katherine, she's very supportive of my endeavors. I think that she was hoping that I would be folding the laundry, massaging her back or feeding her grapes or something. But her comment reminded me of the question murphini's mother-in-law posed him after one of his long marathon training runs: "is this the best use of your time?" In both cases, the questions weren't necessarily critical, but asking us to do a spot-check on what's important.

So is this a valid use of my free time?

The fact is that there are truly countless things that any of us can do with our time. According to Joe Friel, "After subtracting 40 hours for working and another 56 for sleeping from your 168-hour weekly allotment, you're left with 72. Of those remaining hours, more than half, perhaps 40, are accounted for in basic activities such as meal preparation ,eating, personal care, home maintenance, transportation and shopping for necessities. That leaves 22 'free' hours each week for most of us...and many Americans spends 15 of those hours watching television and the remainder socializing with others, including family" (Triathlete's Training Bible, 47).

Indeed, if time is commodity, then free time is doled out in c-notes. It's expensive! For me, some of this time is invested in blogging. Others may dawdle in watching Seinfeld reruns, listening to music, or hiking into nature for a retreat.

This behavior of seemingly wasting free time is well-supported. God didn't look down upon Jesus to say, "My son, is this a good use of your time?" when he retreated into the desert and departed from the very people he was sent to save. I'd say that's an endorsement. Now I'm no savior, but if Jesus/God needed some free time to process and think, why can't I?

And I do attempt not to waste much of this precious time. Sometimes before blogging, I think through the entire conversation in my head before I write my thoughts. When I arrive at the conclusion, I realize that 99% of what's been written could be edited out. I could just give you the 1% of what I feel is important to share and omit all of the fluff.

Other times, I just blog on a thought that's like a seed in my head. I'm not sure what's totally inside it, but I go about the production of seeing what will come forth from breaking up the literary ground and sowing it.

I suppose I blog because it's therapeutic. The great Wiktionary describes therapy as a derivative of the Ancient Greek word therapeia: to attend, to treat, to heal, to cure, to serve. I'm not sure what I'm attending to, healing or curing. Certainly nothing of yours. Perhaps I provide an occasional piece of humor or an item to ponder.

Blogging helps organize those seemingly random thoughts that bounce between my ears into something that I've created. It's true that I plagiarize many of the thoughts that I share, but don't we all? Haven't musicians been doing that since day one? From Mozart to hip hop rifts, musicians have been borrowing ideas to fill their scores. But I digress. For me, I blog to process, create and plagiarize when necessary. It's cathartic. Still, it's ultimately a selfish thing to do and I do it solely for my own edification. Other than a handful of my most gracious readers, nobody really reads, much less thinks about this crap anyway. At least I hope not.

In writing, it's the editing that is the chore. It's easy to type away until *wallah* it's finished. I wish I could just click the publish button be done with it. Fred can probably do that and his thoughts come out cohesive and punctuated neatly. Who cares if the subject matter is vulgar. He makes perfect sense on first draft. I suppose that Bryan edits but only because he does this as a professional editor; he's probably able to write and edit simultaneously. His blog is prolific and filled with wit. Munson? I'm pretty sure that he edits because like me, he's borderline nuts. Still, Munson also produces a lot of good stuff and many of his comments are longer than almost all of Fred's blogs. How does he have time to edit?

Editing becomes a compulsive chore for me. Before hitting the easy publish button, I look back and discover a minefield of random and rough thoughts I've just scattered across the screen. Sigh. Time to polish. It's usually during the editing process when I begin to wonder if this is the best use of my time. The irony is that I've already stated that I blog for my own edification. Hence, I edit for it too. What vanity!

In the end, I could just edit everything out but for the one gem -- that 1% -- of what I set out to share in the first place. In this way, I'd save time editing and spare the reader of time spent reading all of this.

I dunno....



Perhaps I should have watched the Super Bowl.

Time On My Hands, undo_1

I suppose I blog because it's therapeutic. The great Wiktionary describes therapy as a derivative of the Ancient Greek word therapeia: to attend, to treat, to heal, to cure, to serve. I'm not sure what I'm attending to, healing or curing. Certainly nothing of yours. Perhaps I provide an occasional piece of humor or an item to ponder.

Blogging helps organize those seemingly random thoughts that bounce between my ears into something that I've created. It's true that I plagiarize many of the thoughts that I share, but don't we all? Haven't musicians been doing that since day one? From Mozart to hip hop rifts, musicians have been borrowing ideas to fill their scores. But I digress. For me, I blog to process, create and plagiarize when necessary. It's cathartic. Still, it's ultimately a selfish thing to do and I do it solely for my own edification. Other than a handful of my most gracious readers, nobody really reads, much less thinks about this crap anyway. At least I hope not.

In writing, it's the editing that is the chore. It's easy to type away until *wallah* it's finished. I wish I could just click the publish button be done with it. Fred can probably do that and his thoughts come out cohesive and punctuated neatly. Who cares if the subject matter is vulgar. He makes perfect sense on first draft. I suppose that Bryan edits but only because he does this as a professional editor; he's probably able to write and edit simultaneously. His blog is prolific and filled with wit. Munson? I'm pretty sure that he edits because like me, he's borderline nuts. Still, Munson also produces a lot of good stuff and many of his comments are longer than almost all of Fred's blogs. How does he have time to edit?

Editing becomes a compulsive chore for me. Before hitting the easy publish button, I look back and discover a minefield of random and rough thoughts I've just scattered across the screen. Sigh. Time to polish. It's usually during the editing process when I begin to wonder if this is the best use of my time. The irony is that I've already stated that I blog for my own edification. Hence, I edit for it too. What vanity!

In the end, I could just edit everything out but for the one gem -- that 1% -- of what I set out to share in the first place. In this way, I'd save time editing and spare the reader of time spent reading all of this.

I dunno....



Perhaps I should have watched the Super Bowl.

Time On My Hands


Perhaps I should have watched the Super Bowl.

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Groundhog Day

This is one of those movies that people either love or hate.

I, for one, am a big fan.

Happy Groundhog Day, Phil!