#38 Off to the Gulf coast

Hello Digletts!

#38 Off to the Gulf coast

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The delay in posting this entry could be blamed on multiple things, but I'm going to go ahead and blame Watson for chewing through my laptop charger. I could have replaced the charger sooner and not have gone several days laptopless, but I always drag my feet with things like that. Before I dip into my running tales over the last week let me disappoint you by saying there is no Watsonian Weekly this week. Turns out he was busy being a music video star. In place of that segment will be this music video starring Watson:

Pretty neat video, huh? All in a Saturday morning's work.

Writing this up late at night because it is the time of year where what I want to watch happens to be very late in this wretched time zone. The Australian Open. My final four may get a huge break tonight if Federer goes down. I have Wawrinka beating Nadal in the finals. Dimitrov over Murray and Federer on one side of the bracket and Raonic taking down Djoker in the other side to complete my unlikely final four. I feel like Nadal and Federer are on their way down and I don't care for Murray, hate Djoker... So I'm not sure who will be my favorite moving forward. I like Berdych and Wawrinka. Anyways, to running!
 

Last week was very solid going into the weekend where I had planned a 14 mile trail run on saturday, 16 mile run sunday. It's always easier to write a plan down than to actually do it. 14 miles out at Cooper's Rock with Adam initially was boring because of the crowd. The parking lot was full because it was the only nice day of the week and also a Saturday. I hate people. That's why I like trail running, you rarely see anyone. It's a beautiful thing. We ended up parking across the highway down at the pond and running 1.5 miles up to Cooper's so technically only 11 miles on trail, 3 on road to commute. We started down Scott's Run and I anticipated a very muddy stretch there, but it was actually pretty calm. We bombed a couple hills and eventually made our way to Raven Rock. That was our first contact with ordinary people. Minimal props to them for spending a Saturday walking six miles to see a nice view. With the front gate locked, walking to either overlook is 3 miles. And walking is the only mode that most around here can comprehend. I'm still not sure why so many cars were out there. Not one person running though. If so, that would have been neat. When we made it close to Rattlesnake trail I led us the wrong way and we ended up flying through Eagle trail. That is where my Sunday run was ruined. Adam jumped down from a rock and I for some reason leaped up even though it was a solid four foot drop without jumping up. In my memory it was a ten story building I jumped off of. It wasn't too haggard of a landing, but it was far from graceful. I for some reason landed leaning back and made a noise I never made as my back bent back like at the end of Paranormal Activity 3. I stopped soon after and said that it didn't hurt but would definitely hurt the next day. And that it did.

We finished out the six or seven miles back to the car and that was that. The next day I pretty much worked maintenance and logged 8 miles. So far this week I have 36 miles through four days. The race Sunday is now at a doubtful status. For no particular reason. Though I am calling out to all to recommend a mid Feb trail race for me to do. I'd like to get a race in next month. My back is 100% and everything is going really well. My first workout of the season will occur in Florida next week and training is finally picking up. May is still pretty distant, but things are getting more fun and more importantly I am getting more excited. Mentally I haven't been in better shape for a good five-six years. So hop on, I'm getting ready to entertain again. That's always been my main goal when I get fit. Anyone can run fast, but I like trying to make memories via entertainment. Back off of running. Let's go to my night in Pittsburgh last Monday!

7-2 Pens Win, great night to be a Pens fan!!! Sadly, I am a Minnesota Wild fan every night. Josh, Adam, Hunter, and I waltzed up to these great seats for a quarter of the price and luckily the real owners never came. Now I've seat hopped, usually in baseball games and with only one person. The four of us were initially as high as one can get in Consol Energy Center, but after eying section 110 from above we noticed an entire row empty all first period; 3 rows from the top. So during the first intermission we decided to upgrade our seats. First of all anytime Josh and I go anywhere, try anything, it both fails miserably and is hilarious. This attempt wasn't off to a hot start as the four of us paced down the ramp into section 110. The usher yelled "you can't go down there" at us and we all froze wondering how he knew we had upper seats. Turns out he was referencing the handicrap ramp. I took the lead and walked by the usher like we owned the place and counted three rows. The row was now completely full. Shit. Staying calm, on the outside, I kept walking toward the ice with the intention of going to the glass, snapping a selfie with my dead phone, and casually walking back from where we came from. Four seats happened to be opened about twelve rows from the ice and I decided to sit down. The crew followed.

The lady to my left instantly hopped on her phone and as my mates began getting comfortable I got paranoid. I assumed she was texting her husband and his three macho friends that four runners were in their seats and to come annihilate us. Preferring to not kill two men and ultimately die in defense of my friends, I asked her if anyone was sitting in the four seats. She said no one was there and that we were in the clear. Soon after the second started Jonas Brodin cut the Pens lead in half right in front of us. That was enough for me that night. I love every, almost every, player on the team and can't get more happy than watching them play up close. Well I've been happier when they win in front of me. It has been a bad season so far for Minnesota, especially in my two viewed games in St. Paul and Pittsburgh. 11-2 out scored in those games. I still hold hopes of playoffs, but expect the worst. That's the best philosophy with sports. Hope for the best, Expect the worst. I'm a quite fan and do not like haters like the Wild fans behind me. Yelling stuff like fire Yeo (head coach) and trashing the team. I just like to sit and take in the most entertaining sport in the world. Though if I could be a professional athlete in any sport it would be tennis. Travel the world, wear fly clothes, and maybe cross paths with Caroline Wozniaki? That'd be amazing. She now doubles as my third favorite female runner. And favorite tennis player. She's gonna win a grand slam this year! I hope. I expect her to keep losing. See what I did there?

The disgusting, unforgivable things I would do to stand beside coach Yeo for a game.

Here is a little rant to close out this entry. At the Pens game we got yelled at for going down the handicap ramp. That kind of pissed me off. We didn't impede anyone going down or up the ramp, and I thought you'd have the freedom to choose the ramp or stairs unless a handicapped soul was around. None were, so fair game. The ushers should be more concerned with making sure no wheelchairs attempt the stairs. And the Van Voorhis rail trail parking lot makes me so mad/confused. Two out of the four parking spots on the rail trail are handicap, 50%! You know how many times I've run by that parking lot? More than zero times. Which is how many times I've seen one of those spots being used. Why would you put a handicap spot on a rail trail? I'm in no way taking a run at handicapped people, on average they are far more active than the normal sacks of shit. Just perplexed as to why Morgantown does some of the things they do. Or don't do. Yet again it's another winter involving snowfall, something no one here knows how to deal with. There was eight inches overnight in St. Paul when I was there. I walked around on clear side walks. Roads cleared. Which isn't that impressive because it's been snowing forever! Everyone should know how to remove it. You know what else had been around forever? The upper arboretum, but Morgantown had no problem removing that quickly. I think that's all of the irritants I've had recently. Watson has terrible gas. I don't like it.

 It's been a long time since I've been sad to see a show end. That's a lie. I am devastated that White Collar is over, but it was absolutely amazing. Every episode of that show kicked ass. Weeds was top notch though. Recommended to me by Patrick years ago, I don't know why I waited to watch it considering every single recommendation by him has been golden. He knows what I like better than I do. Weeds didn't die down as much as I thought it did. I have a few spoilers in my take on the end of the show. Loved Andy and Silas's endings, Doug's ending was Doug, was okay with Shane and Nancy's ending. I hated that Peter's son was welcomed in with open arms and not killed by Shane. Lame. And Cilia never dies!!! She goes away, but that's not good enough. It's a fictional character, off with her head. Taking into account every season, here is my top five characters of the five characters from least favorite to favorite. 5- Nancy, 4-Doug, 3-Silas, 2-Shane, 1-ANDY! The night I finished the show I watched a Tom Cruise written movie where Andy(Justin Kirk) acted in. It was about some Mexican lady and Italian writer treating each other like shit and falling in love. That's the most common way to fall in love I guess. To Weeds, a deliciously real show.

Listening to Rilo Kiley. Smiley emoticon.

 

NEXT ON TAP:

•  FLORIDA!
• Potential Race on Sunday
• Going to Universal!
• No beaches
• New Watson segment
• First workout of the season. 
• Maybe another moostache picture. 

ONE LOVE!!!

 

#37 Run to read half marathon review and such

#37 Run to Read half marathon review and such

Like the new facial hair? I'm indifferent, but it's growing on me.

Hello Digletts!

The feedback from my last entry was more or less- More Watson less running. I'm going to be the cool immature uncle and feed you the dessert before your veggies. If you can't figure out that analogy- Watson will lead off this entry. Strap on your over-sized, often tripped on ears because we're entering the realm of Dr. Watson.

WATSONIAN WEEKLY

cont'd from last week.

With Grendel in custody, I found spare time in need of an investment. After organizing the office, taking countless naps, seeing my tail, losing sight of my tail, finding my tail again, biting my tail, and realizing that my tail (much like my ear) is not meant to be chewed on; I looked elsewhere in the office to blow off some time. Phone calls were not storming in like I had expected them to be after the detainment of the city's most feared villain. Sure the papers said that there wasn't enough evidence to keep Grendel behind bars and Dr. Watson let him slide through his paws. When something goes wrong I am always to blame, but when I solve the

crimes and bring peace to the city it is the maker that receives all praise. Granted, I haven't solved any crimes aside from the ones in my dream as of now. And sometimes those dream criminals get the best of me. I have this reoccurring nightmare where a raccoon pushes me off of a ledge and I just begin free falling. Right before I hit the ground I jerk awake. A few days ago I jerked awake so hard that I startled the maker siting beside me and he spilled a good portion of his hot black drinking water on me which transformed my odor from the normal oatmeal formula mixed with outside dog to a foul Columbian smell. Neither of us were pleased for awhile. 
Theodore Bear has adjusted just fine to being my receptionist. He hasn't answered any phone calls or made any appointments due to the nonexistence of such things, but we do occasionally batter Grendel together and have upgraded from stereotypical weather small talk. Before I dip into Theodore anymore, I must touch on the weather outside of the city. 
In the passed week I have traveled down some stairs posing as an ambassador for my beloved city. On my journeys I have befriended the head honcho down south; She's a real brute. Full blood Corgi and

full of rage and passion. She knows the outside world better than I and served as my guide into the wilderness. The gates opened up and the ground was blinding! White as far as the eyes could painfully see; it reminded me of my time in Riga listening to some of the best choir the world has to offer. We began trekking aimlessly through the 'snow' as the maker noted an annoying amount of times. Initially the snow was refreshing, but I wouldn't chose such a surface if fleeing for my prints were quite noticeable. As if the maker needed any help bugging me on my time outside. He proceeded to snap pictures and I embraced it at first. Sure it was chilly outside, but I'm proud of the body I've been given. Then while in hot pursuit of Cadence my corgi that has often told me to stop referencing her as 'my' corgi: my back legs slowed to a stop. I tried to keep running, but they could no longer function. Oh, the agony! I screamed out, took the maker's name in vein, and plopped down to determine the extent of the damage that had been inflicted. I was certain that I was run over by a vehicle. My legs had no feeling in them. I accessed the status of my legs, while crying, but saw no mangled limbs like I had anticipated. Instead there was just a thick white slush caked on to my feet. Frostbite. Oh, that retched frostbite! I had so many plans for my homeland that would now have to come without the sound movement of two of my legs. Sure, FDR managed his country just fine in such a state, but he was one of a kind. The maker laughed at my pain as he approached me. I cursed his name while he picked me up. He had the power to prevent this and did nothing. I plotted my revenge on him as I trotted through the corgi's land. By the time that I had any momentum on a vengeful scheme Cadence pointed out that my legs were just fine. She went on to call me names, but I don't see why I would share such things.  

On to Theodore and his troubles. I will admit it. His charm had won me over and I had grown very fond of T-Bear very quickly. He became the only person I could trust almost overnight. So when he had a problem this week; I had a problem. There was this purple kangaroo that hopped her way by us in line for our morning red-eye at Tim Hortons; The maker released a second empty cup from the establishment so now both of us could pretend to drink some brew, joe, dirt, java, etc. She had a tight posture. One could tell that she was built to not be chewed up immediately. For me that was the end of it. The only animals I like are easy to unravel and possess a big squeeker. If she even had a squeeker it would take time to sound it so I focused my energy back on the newspaper in front of me. Theodore Bear pointed out that my newspaper was a used napkin. I ripped up that newspaper. Theodore was getting under my skin all day and eventually I took a run at him. Boys will be boys, will they not? I got a few good shots in on him before he confessed his love for the kangaroo who's name is escaping me. He spoke her name multiple times, but I only hear what I want to hear such as nice trimmed nails- an observation that no one made at the office. Evidently during one of my many spontaneous black outs Theodore gained the courage to ask that roo out without even asking me for advice on how to approach her. And she accepted. They were going to Pizza Al's. Pizza Al's used to be me and Theo's place. Strike two for the Roo was the headline in my mind's paper. Two strikes is as close to a strikeout as I had ever seen. I can never finish watching an at bat in baseball because I can't stay awake and focused long enough to see the outcome. The maker claims to have been able to stay up for some 54 outs of a ball game. I call shenanigans on that.
   So Theodore Bear went out with the kangaroo. After teaching him how to put a belt on so he would look presentable I headed down to

Pizza Al's to scope the place out before the big date. After ten minutes of loitering I was asked to buy something or get out. Loitering- what a ludicrous rule. A law saying that people can't chill outside certain establishments when at the same time people shovel out stacks of currency just to keep someone around. For a society that fears loneliness, loitering seems like a counterintuitive rule. I ordered a large pizza and just ate the crust because I'm not sure what the inside of a pizza tastes like and I wasn't feeling experimental on that day. Caesar probably didn't feel experimental on the ides of march, either. The pizza makers were not very happy with me as I provided no means or motivation to pay for my pizza. Their final demand was for me to work off the pizza. "I'll jog home. That should work it off" I scoffed. They re-explained the punishment and said that I was making pizzas and serving them for the rest of the night. Preposterous I thought at first. Then a light bulb went out over my head. After shrieking at such a spooky event I had an idea. An opportunity to eavesdrop on my lone co-worker. 

I anticipated anger from Theodore, but he seemed thrilled to see me. "Just the man I wanted to see. 
"We are out celebrating" He cheered while putting his arm around the roo. That struck me as an odd mannerism for a first date. I gave a disapproving expression. "Are you two getting married" I scoffed. "What" he laughed. "No, right before I left the office we got a call. Our first official case."  
"Greatscott" I said with the same hint of surprise another great Doc would have said such a phrase with. The roo seemed confused by what I said. 
"You haven't seen Back to the Future have you" I said with enough conviction to embarrass Theodore. She shook her head no.
"Strike three." 

 Veggies Time

Thursday night I went into the cold wintry night with Adam for a long 10 miles. Single digit, real feel sub zero weather is brutal to train in, but I know how close I am to Florida and I'd like to be in decent shape for once when I arrive down there. Whatever cold like symptoms I had earlier in the week seemed to have run it's course. Thursday morning was the last day that I felt any illness. Friday was another cold night run out in my balaclava and I cut my run short a few miles out of disinterest. I made it until Friday of my first truly wintry week of training this year. Baby steps.

Run to Read Half Marathon Review (Fairmont, WV)

    I was disappointed, but not surprised that whoever was in charge of allowing the rail trail to be snow plowed didn't come through. But like I told an old friend in the race at the beginning- Pricketts Fort is my home; for good or bad. Running in Fairmont made you very low maintenance as a runner. By that I mean you're accustomed to zero care for sidewalks/trails along with massive disapproval from the ordinary people. Going into the race I thought that I could go sub 6 minute pace. Definitely break 1:20, definitely not faster than 1:17. That's where I pegged my current fitness. And with the first significant race in my mind being in May, that's pretty decent for January. The snow slowed things a bit for sure, but I still wanted to put forth a good effort. And it is always easier to tough it out in a familiar territory. On my warm up I ran the last mile of the race and tried my best to think back to the summer of 2007. My first 5k, race, etc ever was out at the fort. It all started out there. I sure as hell hope it doesn't end out there.

Pretty grateful for the little tread that the Huaka provides at this point. How many tattoos can you spot?

    It's been a few years since I have had any sort of contact with Caleb Bowen, but it's hard to mistake is curly afro. I was pumped to see him there and he lit up the snow. Figuratively, had he literally lit up the course it would have been more enjoyable and easier on the hammys. Within the first two miles he went chasing the early lead, and two more fellas were out ahead of me. With a 5:32 first mile I hit the brakes quickly. I really wanted to just worry about staying sub 6 and did not want to dig myself an early grave. Plus, I was rocking the Huaka and the 4 in front of me had flats on so I figured I'd eat them up in the 8.5 snow covered miles. Sidenote- I hadn't planned on wearing those shoes until hearing the trail was covered in snow. The benefits of having all of your shoes scattered through your car. I came through four in a half around 27 minutes and then hit the snow. One person slid on back past me like I was hoping the rest would within a mile of snow running. I was really starting to dig in and feel comfortable with my pace. I could see 3rd and said to myself that I'd catch him by the turn around (right before 9mi).

Caleb winning and junk.

   9 miles in I found myself still stuck in 4th and gaining no ground on the top three. At this point I was convinced that I was moving closer to seven minute pace due to the inability to pick up any ground. Then, with the 10 mile mark in sight I heard a man yell 57:50. I didn't wear a watch because I wanted it to be just a strong effort. So then I did some elementary mathematics and realized that I was under six minute pace comfortably. The top three were just running faster than I expected at Run to Read. One would think hearing my pace would keep me going but I tanked the last 5k. Backed into a 1:19.30, 6.02 pace. Close enough to where I felt like had the majority of the race not been run in the snow I would've averaged under six minutes. Caleb won some seven minutes faster, which was quite impressive. On a satisfaction scale I'd say I was 8/10 happy with my run. Good checkpoint. After the race I got to see my brother, sister in law, and nephew which was really cool. Fun fact- I was born an uncle. And remain one to 5 people. Not a cool fun uncle, but one nonetheless.

Solely thinking about post race chili at this point.

That ended a 56 mile week of 5 days running. I took a second day off which is pretty annoying to log, but I just seemed to misplace the motivation Saturday. Too many freezing ass cold runs, all of my cold running gear needed cleaned and I didn't want to do laundry. I was cozy on my uncomfortable futon watching Weeds with Dr. Watson.

In my spare time I started watching Weeds on Netflix. It had been sleeping in my queue of shows to watch for years and I finally decided that I wanted to binge on a show again after recently finishing How I Met Your Mother; for the fourth time. I flew through the first five seasons of it already. It is quite entertaining and I would recommend it to anyone who isn't a total prude. It's a pretty funny and real show, but it seems to be dying down like most shows that have eight seasons. The twists and turns recently have just made me dislike the show and the main character, Nancy, more and more. Honestly at this point in the show I want her to die and I don't feel bad about saying that. She has made a surplus of stupid decisions and for a show that has been pretty good about realistic consequences, she has lived freely through too many bad decisions. Also, if Celia never dies I may not be able to recommend this show to anyone. Because I wouldn't want anyone to have to listen to her for as long as I already have. The kids are pretty good in the show. Shane and Silas are both kind of whiney, but they've done some things that make me like them. In the fifth season Shane has turned into my favorite of the two because he turns into such a little BA. When the fifth season ended I commented out loud how cool he was. Andy is easily my favorite character throughout the show. His character starts awesome and never slows, same can be said about Doug. Andy and Doug make the show for me.

There are a few shows that I'd like to start after the conclusion of Weeds, but there's also a little bit of reading I want to do. 3 books in 3 days, 15 seasons worth of shows in a few weeks. I binge one way or the other. I think it's better than spending 95% of my spare time watching commercials and listening to retired athletes and journalists give their opinion on previous sporting events that can't be changed or talking nonsense about a sporting event that doesn't deserve a week of chatter about. Basically I think ESPN, Sportscenter, etc are all jokes. Anyone who enjoys sports should agree. It's all drama no sports. I think Sportscenter should be a show on TLC. And Champ Kind should be the only sports caster. WHAMMY!

On Tap Next Week:

• Pittsburgh Penguins v. Minnesota Wild game tonight in Pittsburgh with roomies. 
• Potentially a Sunday Funday travel. 
• Drumroll...
• Watson music video!
• More of the same shabang.

I'm going to try my best to stay consistent with my entries and I am grateful that the views didn't seem to go down much at all after my several month disappearance. If you want to see more pictures of Watson or get more live updates I'm on instagram (acidicballsweat) and twitter (mintburrycrunch) from time to time. Thanks!

ONE LOVE!

#36 Shawnee State Forest and Watson's First Case

#36 Shawnee State Forest and Watson's First Case

Running around Moontime Lake!

 

Weekly Mileage 12/29 - 1-4 : 73 miles in six days

    I used the first weekend of the new year as a kickstarter to some more serious training. It's been difficult planning out my training since I am more motivated than I have been in awhile, but my first big race is at the end of May. Still a long way out. There will be some fun races until then. Here's an inside look on my hillacious weekend in Ohio? Whaaa, true story.
   Friday I left Watson for the first time since I got the little guy a month ago. That was probably the hardest part of the trip. I set off for Athens which consists of going down 79 a short ways and then living on route 50 for a few hours. Not my favorite route, but a great destination. While in Clarksburg I witnessed a train overhead. I always assumed that trains didn't run on those tracks anymore since I have never seen one in motion before. I was more intrigued than I should have been. Then I went west a ways. I was met by Michael Owen and his wife Bobbi in Athens. We headed ninety or so minutes away to a cabin for the weekend. If you don't know who Michael Owen is you can review his past year as well as other doings from his website:

 http://www.owenrunning.com/2014/12/2014-in-review.html

Dontchya just wanna go strap on some trail shoes and take to this bad boy?

Michael is better than me and most everyone in the distant area at what he does so I'd highly recommend following him and his doings. I requested to run with him and am very happy to have had the opportunity to run two days with him and pick his mind a little. Friday night was a pretty laid back one. I met Reece, the director of the Moontime Lake  trail races, ate some dinner, talked running for awhile, and conked out for the night. The first thing Reece did when I met him was hand me a Sierra Nevada. Tell-tale sign of a good dude.

Trying to not biff it again

The 10k race in the morning wasn't my main motive for going out to the lake, but it was a blast. Since it poured rain overnight and into the morning, the fresh trails were as slick as ice. The only shoes I had with me were the Clifton, but in most trail conditions I prefer the Clifton over most every shoe. That morning was not one of those conditions. Once the four of us entered the woods I flailed for 10k and quickly packed it in to ensure that I only fell a handful of times. Nonetheless, the trails were really nice and when dry- I think they would be pretty challenging but a good time. Honestly, I was just happy to finish the run without doing more damage than fatiguing my achilles a little. Right after the run Michael and I ran up to the firetower. Just short of a six mile run out and back and it would have been pretty rough had I pounded out the trail 10k prior. The entire way out was a climb, but worth it once we topped it. I think that area would be an awesome place to workout or, even better, end a race at. There were two hunters close to the top trying to cherry-pick a kill that morning. They were overlooking the now completely dozed hillside. Hopefully they didn't get what they were after that morning. The commute back to the cabin was just as brutal as the climb. Downhill running is not a specialty of mine. Which would be brought to light the following day. After napping during the day we set out to a little market for supplies for just the sweetest nacho entree. Chips, cheese, hamburger, cheese, chili, cheese, hot sauce and a little cheese. It was truly beautiful and my biggest regret over the weekend was not clicking a picture of it.

The next morning started with some rain as well. It's far from ideal, but when it is fifty degrees in January... You are willing to negotiate with a little rain. Shawnee State Forest is where we were running a twenty mile loop. Shawnee State Forest is on the border of Ohio and Kentucky and is stocked full of climbs and descends. The twenty mile loop has 4500 ft of gain and excluding a few segments it felt like we were either climbing up or bombing down the entire day. I'd say the first thirteen or fourteen miles were the best miles of the week. We climbed up Big Bear which was absolutely crippling and was the point where I couldn't hang anymore. The roughest part of the day was the steep descent after the biggest climb. Steep downhills on tired legs is brutal. At some point in the run my two gel packets must've fell out of the back of my shorts. After two and a half hours I felt completely depleted, which was entirely my fault. Michael spared my a gel and that allowed me to rally for four miles until the last real climb of the run. Mile twenty was a struggle, but man... Those two chocolate milks afterwards have never tasted better. I was completely swamped after that run.

Me around mile 19.

Shawnee State Forest is gorgeous, though. If a place is pretty when it is foggy and sunless out; it's like rolling over and seeing a pretty girl in the morning without any masks on. I can only imagine how great that place must be in full bloom. I wish it wasn't so far away. Hopefully there will be a race held out there in the not so distant future to give me an excuse to invite some friends out to see the place. I already debunked the stereotype of Ohio being flat as a pancake when I raced Iron Furnace and Mohican 100, but Shawnee State Forest would definitely open some eyes to those who believe Ohio is flat. However, i-70 i-80 and 1-90 are all really flat and last too long in Ohio. Michael is doing Mohican 100 this year, the race I DNF'd last year. You can follow his racing on his blog and chances are I will link his race onto my entry that week.

This is the Shawnee I want to see!

I'd definitely like to make it back out that way before my racing season begins for both the trails and the company. I am late getting this blog up because I woke up Monday a little ill and it took a toll on me. By that I mean I think I've slept more than I've been awake over the past few days. This week's mileage may fall short pending on my health. It being real feel of five out doesn't make things any easier for me and my healthbar. This week and next week I plan on staying in the 70-75 mile range in six days of running. And now for a new segment of this page, a story from my new partner in crime- Watson!

WATSONIAN WEEKLY

Case 1: The Regenerating Pillow Monster

    Let me tell you a story about a pillow. This was not the first pillow I've encountered in this lifetime, but it was certainly my

first monster. Our first rendezvous occurred in my dining area. The maker attempted to close me into the walk in closet doubling as my smorgasbord. The monster's role in the detainment was border patrol; This proved fruitless as I swiftly pummeled through the pillow, or Grendel as he would be referred to in the office. I wouldn't see him again for days. From time to time I suffer from anxiety. When the maker leaves, without leaving xanax, I take to the window in search of some answers. There's a dog next door that screams a few times a day. He really likes to yell when the maker is sleeping early in the morning. I can't decipher what he is saying; He's of German dissent. I've made out a few things: Miststück, Miststück, Schlampe! He's passionate about whatever he is saying. The other dogs don't pay him any attention. Every neighborhood has a psycho I suppose. While I ponder as to the maker's whereabouts(or his existence in general) I often times find myself pulling on the blinds on the window that hangs in reach. It is difficult to see what the looney dog is going on about when the blinds are up. After only slightly detaching a few blinds from the window the maker went all communist on me and sent Grendel on border patrol again; This time the tall grey beast served as the divider between myself and the 'damaged' blinds. That's when I decided to stand up and rebel against the slavery I was suffering from. I used my growing teeth to latch on right under his neck and began ripping his cotton fluff out. It felt... Great! By the time the maker returned the deed was complete. No more fluff for Grendel. A celebratory nap was on tap and was masterfully crafted. 

Receptionist training in the office

    Before I opened my eyes I could hear a feint laughter echoing through the corridor. I recognized that voice but didn't want to believe that I could be hearing it. It's Dead. Sure enough, when I rolled over on the mildly comfortable futon I saw it: full of fluff once again. There was only one possible explanation: Regenerating Pillow Monster. I knew that if I wanted to bring him down once and for all that I would have to go about destroying him differently. I posted an ad for a receptionist to help me at my office. My investigative office hadn't been open but three days before Grendel made his way into my cross-hair. A young well dressed chap going by the name Theodore, Theodore Bear, was my only interviewee that day but he knocked it out of the park. He just got out of receptionist school and was easy on the eyes. Both available boxes were checked. After training him for a few hours we got straight to work on Grendel. His skills weren't necessarily needed on this case because it was my first case, but after properly defeating the beast I was certain that the pretend phone would be ringing nonstop. 
    The night was upon us yet again. From what I can tell it is

The kill

night time more than light in this realm. Grendel had been mocking us from afar for the entire day. We set out with a plan so brilliant that it could not fail. Theodore confronted Grendel in hopes of finding directions to the nearest cupcake factory, but Grendel wasn't letting his guard down too easily. After a heavy dose of charm, Theodore gained his full attention. That's when I pounced onto Grendel's back, re-opening the neck wound which never closed, and ripped every last cottony ball from within. Then we waited. The maker returned again and we waited from beneath the master bedroom. Keeping our eyes locked on the deflated Grendel. The maker circled the slaughtered monster a few times and then he lifted up some of his cottony guts. I was thrilled! It's a celebration I yelled from beneath the bed and scampered out to toss some guts, too. The maker quickly scooped up all of the guts and began reviving Grendel. I watched on with horror, disgust, and a sense of betrayal. Grendel glided back to Earth with the most irritating smirk. 
   So that's the first case of the year. There was no triumphant ending. Not yet. I am not sure if Grendel can be defeated, or if the maker can be trusted. Calls have come in, some noteworthy and some trivial, but the days of chasing Grendel are far from over. Theodore bear cutely suggested that we warm up to the maker. If we can get him on our side and provide a surplus of evidence showing Grendel's true evil; He can be stopped. If the maker won't help us with this beast perhaps he should be the one being dealt with. It's too early to make any rash decisions. Until next week, you can find me at 221c Baked St. 

Waiting... Plotting.

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NEXT ON TAP:

• This Sunday I will probably run Fairmont's Run to Read Half Marathon as part of my long run. 
• Minnesota Wild game in Pittsburgh
• Florida Vacation right around the corner. Florida Trail Half 1/25

ONE LOVE!