A day of Bad Choices!

Not as much humor these days in regards to the long runs. This weeks’ 14-miler in 75 degree heat was nothing to take too lightly. Knowing that I need to be more focused on my Chicago plan than ever before, making the right choices and sacrifices are critical. I have learned to live like a monk on Saturdays – the day before my long run.

So what was I thinking last week when I responded to my sister’s email? We don’t get to spend a lot of time together, so on the surface, getting the families to hang out in St. Louis over the weekend sounded like a good idea. Then she suggested we take the brewery tour.

If you have ever been to St. Louis for anything “touristy”, the Anheuser Busch brewery tour is a must-see! (Especially now before the InBev purchase goes through and they shutter all of the fun stuff). The tour has a bit of everything, but at the end you go to the hospitality room and you get free beer. I would be fine with that part alone – to hell with all of that walking.

So anyway, off to the brewery we go. I think we arrived about 2 PM. The hostess gave us our tickets and told us that our tour would start at 3:50 PM! I am looking at my boys thinking they will tear this place down by then. So we decided to go find a little bar/restaurant to kill some time. My soon to be four year old Cole was not in a good mood. He was tired and for some reason was in flip-flops (his Mother was in charge of wardrobe) – maybe not the best choice of footwear for a walking tour of a beer factory. To make matters worse, he found a razor in our master bathroom that morning and thought he would be like Dad and shave - never a good outcome for little boys. He had a half-inch cut right above his lip. You would have thought be lopped an arm off.

Off we go to find a bar. I had to carry Cole because he didn’t want to walk in flip-flops. He had a washcloth pressed to his lip that had stopped bleeding about four hours earlier. In this area of St. Louis, there is a bar on every corner, except the corners where we were. We ended up walking about four blocks just to end up back at a place that is adjacent to the brewery property. Carrying that little sack of potatoes was killing my legs (and he is the lighter of my two boys). So we decided to have a couple beers. A definite violation of my “day before the long run” policy. Time passed and we went back toward the brewery.

We started our tour and I carried Cole each step of the way. Finally at the end, more free beer at the hospitality room. Then it was off to dinner. Where did we go? Another great area of St. Louis – “The Hill”. For some reason, they made it my choice. And for some other reason, I drove right to “Ragazzi’s”, home of the “Fishbowl Beer” – another bad choice! What is a fishbowl beer you ask? It is a beer in a mug the size of a small fishbowl. You can barely pick it up! So after stuffing myself on pasta (carb loading could be considered a good choice I guess) and having a fishbowl, we headed back home. A bit tipsy, sore legs, and stuffed from dinner – I had about seven hours to recover before my run.

At 5:25 AM I sprang out of bed and headed toward my running stuff. Strangely, I felt pretty good. I was out the door by 5:45 AM and on my way. After my “camel plan” (doing the run with almost no water) last week nearly killed me, this time I was smarter. On Saturday morning, I hopped on my motorcycle and took plastic water bottles out and hid them along the route. A helpful hint here – if you are making marks in the rocks on the side of the road to remind you where you hid the little fellows, make sure you don’t leave your leg on the muffler of the motorcycle – it gets rather hot!

To make a long run story short – it was perhaps one of the strongest I have ever had. I found all of my hidden bottles in tact and clear - not yellow, and felt more confident than ever about my progress toward the BOA Marathon. Maybe I should just live my life the way I always do during this training program. Maybe it’s OK to make a few bad choices along the way!

No Dry Heat here!

Yea, but its dry heat! These words have never been uttered in regards to a summer in Southern Illinois. I’m not sure what geographical feature here lends itself to this super high humidity. We are hundreds of miles away from the ocean. No mountain ranges that I have ever seen (remember, Mt. Belleville isn’t really a mountain). Why then, can you walk out of your home for a long weekend run at 6 AM and feel like you are going for a swim? I guess I need to suck it up a bit!

This weekend’s 12 miler was a tough one. I ran it really slow, and finished in one piece. But, man – it was hot! I almost pulled a “Janet Jackson” and had a major wardrobe malfunction. I guess it could be quantified as more of an equipment failure. I started out the door with a plastic water bottle in my hand, and a “GelBot” bottle in my waistband bottle holder. If you have read my previous posts, I am an equipment guy. If it can be bought and can give me an advantage (even a perceived advantage) I likely own it.

I think I bought my waistband bottle holder about a year ago, nothing remarkable here. However, the bottle that cam in it was a bit on the small side, so I opted for one of my larger bicycle bottles. Here’s where it gets cool. They make these cycling bottles called “GelBots”. Some genius combined the usefulness of a water bottle with the added benefit of a gel dispenser. Stem all the way up – you get water. Stem half way up – you suck hard and get gel (Gu in my case). Sounds pretty cool? It is – when it works.

Okay, I have tried Gu. I like the vanilla bean Gu. My only problem here is that I really don’t know if the stuff works. I guess by virtue of my still being alive, it must. But could this bean one of those magic little pills they sell that they make you think it works, but that it really does nothing at all? Who knows! At some half a couple of weeks ago, I got a sample of Hammer Gel – it really looks cute, it is gel in the shape of a little hammer. I took it along this weekend, when I ripped off the hammer head, it tasted like the stuff from jelly donuts. I thought I should have put a few donuts on a stick and ate them when needed.

Anyway, back to the GelBot problem. When I left the house, I felt a little water on my back by the bottle holder. No big deal I thought, I use them on the treadmill and they are notorious leakers. So off I trot, one bottle in hand, the other on the belt. Did I mention it was hot? I started hitting on the throwaway bottle about two miles in to the run. Sort of like a booster rocket being jettisoned once I got into orbit. The problem here was after four miles when I threw booster rocket one away, I discovered that booster rocket two had only about an inch of fuel left! Can you say crisis? Let me redress my throwaway comment for all of you “Greenies” out there. I sinned and littered. I am sorry. Tonight when I go for a golf cart ride, I will find a piece of trash to repent for my sin. Sort of like a “carbon offset credit” for water bottles.

So here I am, four miles in to a twelve-mile loop, two slurps of water left, and an outside temperature of 85 degrees. Think cool thoughts! I thought about the worst-case scenario. WWMGD? (What would McGiver do?) There were some farmhouses on my route. But who would open their door to a sweaty 200 pounder at 7 AM? There were a couple of creeks and pounds along the way, but god only knows who has been swimming in that stuff. I decided rather to do the only thing I really could do – just keep going! And keep going I did. Mile after sweaty mile until finally the finish line of my front mailbox was it sight. I had made it – I was alive. Pardon the pun, but this could have been a real watershed moment along my path to Chicago! I battled the road and came out victorious! Next time I will go out with a better hydration plan and will leave the GelBot back home!

Out too fast!

So it would be…. As the lead pack and I approached the finish line, the race atmosphere turned electric. The crowds cheered with absolute excitement. The other runners looked at me as I stared back at them. The elites were wondering how this unknown had stayed with the pack for this long. As we rounded the final turn I looked up and could see the finish line ahead. The race announcer was nearly screaming our names as we neared the finish. Cameras flashed as I made my last dash leaning forward toward the line. The next thing I knew, I opened my eyes and it had happened – I woke up.

So it was only a dream, and a made up one at that, but if logistical effort alone could win the race, this one was mine. I ran my first of three “tune-up” half marathons on the road the Chicago over the weekend, this one was the “Joker’s Wild” half in St. Louis County.

To start with, who wants to run a race on the 5th of July? My 4th could not have been any lamer. We decided to spend the weekend at my wife’s family farm in the middle of no-where, Missouri to celebrate the holiday and my father-in-law’s 70th birthday. After the 117-mile drive on our nation’s Independence Day, we finally made it to the farm. Arriving via elephant back might have been faster. Me and my wife, my 14 year-old daughter’s teen attitude, my three and five year olds, and my 100-pound dog Tucker. All stuffed in my large SUV like a sausage from a cheap butcher. It seemed like we stopped every ten minutes. How can a five year old really pee every 30 minutes? Its like they have multiple bladders.

Here was my plan: Take it easy on the forth, get up at 3 AM, drive 75 miles back to St. Louis for the 6 AM start of the race. Everything pre-race worked like a charm. I sprang awake exactly at 3 AM. In the shower and out the door by 3:21 AM. After a coffee stop, I arrived at the race site by 5 AM. I checked in, got my chip, and proceed to people watch until the race started.

The gun sounded promptly at the revised 6:15 Am start time. Off I went on the two-loop, six and a half mile course. I had no real race strategy; I just wanted to see how I felt. I thought 2 hours flat would be a nice time for a summer run. I should have picked up on the warning sign as I finished my first mile at an all-too-quick (for me) pace of 7:47. You know what they say about going out too quick? I have done it nearly every time, normally with tragic results.

However, for this half, I did have a bit of stronger than normal motivation! I was a Clydesdale. Obviously, I did not turn into a horse, but rather than the 40-45 age group, I decided to enter the 200+ pound Clydesdale division. At 205 pounds, I legitimately qualify. In this smaller, 500 person race, just me and 17 other “fat boys” in our portly little division. Could this race be the first time I had a chance at an actual award? Time would tell.

So back to the race. I kept clicking off miles faster than I expected to run. Up and down the rolling hills I went – making the turn to finish lap one. Lap two felt like more of a struggle. Sort of like carrying a ton of bricks on my back while I ran on those little clogs like the people from Holland would wear. I was fading, and fading fast. Racers – fat and not so fat, were passing me like I was standing still. I entered the finish chute as the big red clock kept on adding the seconds. My finish time was 2:00:55, not my PR, but not my PW (personal worst) either (I think my PW was this year’s flying pig half in Cincinnati – 2:02 +/-, but this race was up and down a mountain – but a ton of fun).


So what did I learn about my progress toward Chicago? It seems I am running a lot of miles and not getting much better! I have started to make Wednesdays my “speed work” day, but I have not done enough to see the results. I need to learn that I need to start slower to run faster. It makes perfect sense to me. In next month’s Chicago Distance Classic (half), I am going to run a different type of race. I am going to focus on a slower pace for my first three miles, and then I will see how much I have in my tank. Maybe I should not race the clock, but rather choose to enjoy the event! I mean, think about it… a year from now (or even 15 minutes from now) is anyone really going to remember who won the Clydesdale Division in this half? I have my doubts! But I will remember that I finished 6th out of 17 in this group of gentle giants, dare I improve my standing in 2009?!?!?