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.
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!
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:
Dontchya just wanna go strap on some trail shoes and take to this bad boy?
Michael isbetter 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.
Want to see more pictures of Watson? Follow him on instagram- Acidicballsweat
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
Here is my toast to another slightly above mediocre year full of a few updates since my last entry, personal highlights from the previous twelve months, and maybe a resolution or two.
The only tale worth telling since my North Carolina trip would be my race in southern WV and then my travels to and from St. Paul for about a week. Canary 25k+ is a decently big trail race for the locals so Josh and I headed down to Fayetteville, WV for the 18 miler. When we left Morgantown it was in the fifties and pleasant, but sure enough the ground in Fayetteville was snow covered and Hoka Huaka. I love these shoes, but they have minimal traction and for what it's worth I'd just rock the Clifton in almost every scenario. It is going to be a beautiful day when the Challenger ATR comes to my door. Super stoked for those bad boys. The race ended well because they had free carrot cake, cookies, pizza, and beer. Morgantown boys took 1-3 so that was pretty cool and semi-anticipated.
bitter cold. My plan going into the race was to cruise to the ten mile mark and then hammer the last eight; five of which were predominately downhill. From the gun I was in 4th and didn't see any of the top three until the 11th mile. I slid into third and remained there rest of the race. About 5k in I took a solid spill which brings me to my opinion of the
Now for the fun story! The road to St. Paul. Day one was textbook. I drove to Lafayette Indiana in one sitting, ordered a pizza, watched television and fell to sleep. Day two would prove to be one of the most difficult drives of my life. Naturally, the storm began in Chicago because that city has never been cooperative. The snow continued to accumulate through Wisconsin. We, and by we I mean me and other drivers, were getting hammered so hard that the average speed traveled throughout Wisconsin was about 30 mph. Visibility often times was a myth and I slid more times in that day than all previous days combined. I counted fifteen wrecks before I made it to a rest area. There I hoped that the storm would just pass although the forecast said otherwise. I rested in my car for an hour when I was forced to wake up due to the numbing of my toes and fingers from sleeping in a freezing car. I drove on and when I was 115 miles from my St. Paul hotel- disaster struck. My wiper on the driver's side stopped working and I continued to get pounded by snow and kicked up snow from trucks. More panicked than I'll ever admit, I leaned to the side and navigated the next few miles from the passenger seat. At this point I assumed that the wiper was just frozen. I navigated to a backwoods Wisconsin gas station where the two workers looked like they came right out of the stereotypical West Virginia. Between the two of them they had a handful of teeth. Strange, never see that in WV. Anyways, the wiper was not frozen. I felt pretty crappy as I watched the projected sixteen inches of snow continue to spill everywhere. After doing a few laps through the station I decided to buy two sets of heavy duty shoe laces and gloves. I wasn't too confident in my idea, but it had to work because I wasn't staying in that town.
I tied the laces together, tied them around my wiper, and wired it through my driver side window. I yanked on it and sure enough it wiped up! Full of excitement I push the wiper back down. Granted, I didn't even think about how I had to push it back down. Back on i94W a big truck blew snow all over me. I pulled on the string and it worked. I was giddy. Then I blankly stared at the vertical wiper and realized that I had no way of getting it to go back down. With my hands pretty much tied, I straddled the middle console and navigate from there. Picture this--> Left foot on the gas pedal, Right foot below the glove box, Ass stuck between the two seats. It was the most reckless driving I've ever done and would ever like to do. I felt more in control of my car when Doughty and I ghost rode my car in Oklahoma a few years ago.
Somehow I managed to make it to St. Paul. I felt like I may have never deserved a drink more than I did that night. The next morning I ran for only a few miles because real feel of negative 8 wasn't too hospitable. I went to Xcel Energy Center and purchased a home Brodin jersey; or sweater if you're a prick. That concluded my Scandinavian rainbow. Granlund and Koivu from Finland and Brodin across the water in Sweden. I walked down 7th and stopped in Dunn Bros coffee because I couldn't stand the cold anymore. Oh, I forgot to pack socks, so my toes were cold. Like, constantly for about a week. After warming up a touch I wanted to find some food. I walked out of the door and looked outside on the street to see if anything interesting was in eye-sight. Nothing jumped out. When I looked to the left I noticed that the coffee place was attached to a sports bar: Burger Moes. So I went inside and started drinking before noon. This action continued until almost three o'clock. One sandwich and seven different drinks, I think. That's the problem when I land in a different part of the country. When there are seventy beers on draft and you haven't tried almost all of them you try to taste as many as you can while being able to properly depart. Not properly thinking, I accepted the bartender's offer to hit the town after she got off at eight. I have never tried so hard to sober up just to go out again. I got to my room around 3:30, slept til 7:30, then had a pot of coffee. I was good enough. The rest of the night is irrelevant. I did go to sleep that night thinking if that is how my first day in the city went, I'd have no choice but to be happier if I resided in the city.
GAME DAY!
I went back to Burger Moe's after throwing down 400$ to fix my car. Chatted with the bartender for a few more dead hours before leaving forever. It's strange how much warmer it is outside when you're full of alcohol. Before I knew it, I was sitting in my seat three rows from the ice. I only have two comments about the game because LA came to town and just annihilated us. 4-0. The first comment is about, well wait I have three comments. There were these two girls that walked down to the glass during warm ups and kept pounding on the glass and pointing at Wild players and then started hip thrusting. It was hilarious. But had the genders been reversed they probably would have been removed for being crude. Comment #2/3 - The mom behind me brought her kid who is a Kings "fan". As in he knows who won the cup last year, but they're from Minnesota. The little bastard talked shit all night and I started to think... Adrian Peterson's son could not have been half the little shit that this kid was. I'm not saying a kid should be lashed, but if you put little Peterson and that kid together, the little king kid would be far more deserving of physical punishment I'm sure. And lastly, I tend to have brilliant marketing ideas that will inevitably be stolen because I don't know the right people. For example: Pizza boxes should let other establishments advertise on their boxes. Do you know how long those damn boxes sit in my room? Forever. And why do pizza places put their phone number and advertise for themselves on the pizza box???? I bought your pizza, I think I know your number. That'd be like a car salesman selling a car and then handing the customer an ad about the car they just purchased. It's a wasted space. If I had a pizza place, and stopped hating myself for having a pizza place, I would totally accept money from other establishments and let them advertise on my box. I don't know why everyone is dumb but me. In the final two minutes of a period they announced that if Minnesota scores something happens. Also, you get 5 cents of per gallon the day after a game at certain gas stations for every goal they score if you have your ticket. That's dumb. What sporting franchises need to do is reward fans for watching losses. "If your team loses 4-0 tonight and you sit through the entire embarrassment, grab a free ice cream cone on your way out." No one cares about prizes when they win. The victory is the prize. But when I watch my team get killed, I would like a sympathy prize.
On the way back from St. Paul I continued East to Lebanonish, PA to pick up Watson. Well for the previous eight weeks he had been hard at study so now he is technically Dr. Watson. He has his own segment in all of 2015 entries so I will not speak of his adventure until next week. But here is a picture to tide you over.
Here are a few top 5's from the previous year
Books I've read this year: I probably haven't read anything actually published in 2014.
5. Jodi Picoult - The Storyteller 4. Jo Nesbo - The Snowman 3. Dan Brown - Angels & Demons 2. Stephen King - 11/22/63 1. Dan Brown - Inferno
Albums released this year:
5. New Pornographers - Brill Bruisers
4. First Aid Kit - Stay Gold
3. Jenny Lewis - The Voyager
2. Passenger - Whispers
1. Conor Oberst - Upside Down Mountain
* I was fortunate enough to watch the top two on this list live this year. Two peaks of my happiness. If you listened to Jenny Lewis, you love her now. Listen to her entire new album and then look up Rilo Kiley and love her even more.
Movies released this year:
It turns out that I have only seen one movie that was released this year. I should watch more movies. I will make a resolution to watch two whole movies in '15. That new Captain America movie, though? Right? I can totally talk about that one.
TOP FIVE RACES!
5. Iron Furnace: Fun trail, biggest group of locals with me, and good experience all together. The chocolate milk was off after the race and it was one of the last runs in my prototype New Balance 110v2. I feel like I can honestly call them a prototype because I don't think they ever released that shoe. I like to think it was because when the NB rep came to town and I showed her my shredded pair that they realized the shoe may be the least durable piece of material ever.
4. Florida Challenge: Completely underestimated trail half marathon saw me blow up, but more importantly blew Josh up more than I've ever seen. He was crushing the CR through 11 miles but fell apart. I assume he will get it this year and I want to run as close to it as I can. January 25th. Be ready for it! Round two.
3. Pilot Mountain to Hanging Rock 50k: The most spontaneous of all of my races, but was a blast. Aside from the 5k that came on the roads, I enjoyed all of the trails. It is a great point to point race and was my lone victory of 2014. So that's some bonus points. Not to mention I had Chipotle waiting for me after the race. No wonder I won.
2. Conquer the Cove: This was the best race I think I had all year. 3:12 for the trail marathon is still my PB, but the course was gorgeous. I really wanted to do this course again and break 3 hours. Considering the lackluster shape I was in last year I know I could do that. I'm currently in better shape than the fittest I was in '14. But they scheduled it the same weekend as my NC 50k this year. So no '15 Cove.
1. Rut 50k: Sure I only finished 18 miles before passing out and dropping out, but I hadn't run in two months due to a stress fracture. There's no way I would've raced any other race in that condition, but Montana was too beautiful to not run as much as I could just to take in the sights. Can't wait to register here in less than a week for the Rut again.
And the final list. Video Games. I can't in good conscious avoid talking about my favorite hobby. I am more of a game nerd than I lead on.
5. FIFA 15- This game has two separate but equally annoying worlds for me. The majority of hours logged came playing against Chris Hunter. Last year we topped 200+ games against each other in FIFA 14 and have probably played as much already on 15. We are so nerdy that we are controlling every team in the Bundesliga, Barclays, Italian, and Spanish League. Eventually we will have a Champions League. With PSG automagically added. On the other hand I play Pro Clubs with my childhood friend Austin. In Fifa 14 we climbed from Division 10 to Division 3 in this game mode where we only control our lone character. So far we are in Division 6 and rising fast. How can you not root for our club: Krusty Krew? He's Mermaid Man and I was Barnacle Boy, but recently changed to Smitty Werben Man Jensen because I feel like I'm number 1.
4. Wolfenstein- There's nothing like killing Nazis. This was one of the most white knuckled campaigns I've ever played. The game seemed to move 100mph and was extremely beautiful. All of the cities looked amazing. It was harder than hell to beat too since I put it on the second hardest difficulty from the start. I didn't care for the ending. Quick spoiler. It's 1960s and you wake from a coma that started during WW2. The Nazis won and control basically all of Europe. But you get your strength back, instantly..., and form a rebellion. Fighting for the Allies. Slowly you start to pester the Nazis and in the end you blow up the Nazi leader and yourself. Then the game makes it seem like you've won. No! Take the leader out from a multimillion man army and the leader of a six person militia. I think the Nazis would have been just fine. Which is annoying.
3. Dead Rising 3- Sure it was a 2013 game, but I didn't really play it until this year. My favorite zombie game ever. The storyline was so gripping that I played it twice through. The customizations and endless combinations you could create made you less angry that weapons seemed to never last long. I played the majority of the game in a mega man helmet, cowboy shirt, daisy dukes, and flip flops. The wardrobe options were insane, too. Just a really fun time killer. Sadly I have no friends and never played the co op. But killing zombies beside a friend? That's the dream.
2. NHL 15- Things have been broken in my room over this game. I love hockey more than any sport and love the video game just as much. Hockey Ultimate Team has consumed so many of my hours. But the St. Paul Digletts are 4.5/5 star team and our weakest player is an 87 overall. I believe my record is in the range of 67-28-3. I'm in Division 3 which means that I am only two successful season from the highest rank. I will get there. Each of those games comes against a real player online. I had to start muting my opponent and not wearing a mic because shit talking gets too heated and the likelihood of breaking things goes up. You will never see me more focused than in one of these online games. It's actually draining. I don't play as much because it wears me out. If I take any game to serious, it's this one.
1. Dragon Age Inquisition- I purchased this epic game and soon after got a little sick. I figured with winter coming I could use a fun open world game. This claimed to be the biggest of worlds to hit the market and I would have to agree. Until I saw my first of ten dragons appear I thought the game was just okay. The storyline is a little vague, but I have a hard time staying on the main path anyways. I am eighty hours into this game and I have only seen a fraction of the world, slayed one dragon, only seen 4 dragons total, and barely scratched the surface on the main storyline. Roaming around killing stuff and finding little treasures has always been fun to me. I don't plan on beating this game in less than 150 hours. But until Witcher 3 comes out, I'm in no hurry.
Here is a short photo slideshow of my year.
NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS / RACING SCHEDULE
RACING SCHEDULE:
Florida Challenge Trail Half Marathon - 1/25
Quest For The Crest 50k - Burnsville, NC- 5/
White Mountain Sky Marathon- Lake Placid, NY- 6/
Audi Power of 4 50k- Aspen, CO - 7/
Tushar Mountain Marathon- Utah - 8/
Rut 25k- Big Sky, MT - 9/
Flagstaff in October.
Little races will be in between these races. Nothing in stone yet.
I only have one resolution for 2015. It's to make my 2016 resolution as a resident of another state. My trip to the Sky Running Series is a one way trip.
Happy Holidays Digletts! We'll talk again on Tuesday.
From the picture above, one could gather that I decided to run along with Travis in the Pilot Mountain to Hanging Rock 50k rather than spectate as I said I was doing in the last entry. Also, you can see that I made it onto one of Harper's famous signs. But the race is the main entree, first comes the vegetables that I personally believe should remain where they came from; the ground.
Since my last entry I logged 51 miles in 7 days and 62 in 6 days, though literally 50% of those 62 miles came in the 50k Saturday. So the pedestrian mileage continues, it will continue because I am in an extremely great place with my running right meow. I would argue with no one that this is the most content I've been with my running ever. I have the drive that I possessed as a teen and the knowledge to not take myself too serious. That combination has led to a few very fun weeks. I've made sure training has been fun more than serious of recent, because if you're not enjoying it what are you doing? I feel like I don't need to be super serious with my approach because I have nothing to prove to anyone. I'm just trying to stay happy. Last Sunday (10/5) Travis and I hit up Barkcamp again and had a fun run. The previous day there was a 10 mile looped course marked out for a 10/20 mile race. We just hit that loop once, returned to the car and then headed back out for some uptempo miles. We discovered a short loop by the lake that provided excellent land for hill work. Anticipate seeing a hill workout taking place there in the near-ish future. Here is a short video on our run on that day. There will be plenty more Barkcamp footage to come moving forward in our training.
liquid candy
Thursday morning I left WV for an October vacation to North Carolina. The three objectives of the trip was to run through some fun Appalachian trails, catch up with my favorite pole vaulter, and use the 50k as a long run on Saturday. One of my joys in life is people watching, especially when I travel. I made a comparison of what I believe to be freshman at Wake Forest and West Virginia University. Wake Forest is super pretentious; you can't even get on to their campus after hours without a student id. So after we went on campus to grab some pizza and while settling the vanilla porters stirring in my stomach, I took an interest in a booth of tools in my sight. Three freshmen males: hats on backwards but behind their hairline, frat clothes from backwards sunglasses (at 1am) to their stupid boat shoes. Their conversations varied from classes to girls, typical. Now, there's your generic students at your generic school that believes they're special, but are just as lame as the next institute. Let's time travel back a few days to Morgantown, WV; from a bench I've become friends with outside of Summit, a freshman dorm, waiting for my dinner company and saw just the greatest thing. Close your eyes for a moment. And read this at the same time. Two of the whitest girls you've ever seen. What's a white girl? UGG boots, leggings to hide young cellulite, baggy sweater to hide true form, and over-sized sunglasses that makes them look like stupid flies. The larger of the two was 'singing' Big Poppa while they walked down the stairs to my left. Then as they pass in front of me, in kicking range, she threw her arm around the other and after an extended exhale she semi-shouted "We Made It!" As you can imagine, I was on the edge of the bench now and seriously contemplated canceling my plans to follow those two ridiculous people around for the rest of the night. It made my night. To know that some people are as dumb as I think they are. It was...brilliant.
RACE DAY:
After camping out in Pilot Mountain state park, in the pouring rain, I was up at 6:00 to head over to the start line. The host family at the campground were extremely helpful with unlocking the gate for me, wishing me luck, and checking in later that day to see how the race went. I feel like they were the definition of southern hospitality. NC is about as south as I'm comfortable going on this coast. Here is my race recap for Saturday's run:
Pilot Mountain 2 Hanging Rock 50k Recap/Review
Listening to instructions or thinking about how I could be sleeping?
Some of my greatest times in life have come from spur of the moment decisions; PM2HR 50k must be added to that growing list of moments. Travis and I decided to make our long run this past week a 50k because Trivium Racing provided one of the rarest perks that a race could offer: a point-to-point run! With slightly over a year of trail running experience there is one reoccurring theme that has deflated the air in my tires: loops. Trails races, being very difficult, can drain a lot of mental energy when you survive one loop only to realize that every step you've already taken, must be taken again. It was hard not to jump at the opportunity to run a point to point, especially after I enjoyed the Pilot Mountain Payback trail marathon earlier this year, if you can't remember that race- refresh yourself.
Within a few miles it was already just Travis and myself out by ourselves. Which was cool because neither of us are in racing form, but both would have spilled blood to beat anyone out there. The second of many perks this race had was an abundance of aid stations. When you are carrying a somewhat small bottle with you and the humidity seems to be 400%, you're going to need to refill your bottle half a dozen times at least. For those of you who have never run a trail race in North Carolina- to my knowledge the one ingredient that distinguishes NC races from others are creek crossings. I cannot stress the plurality of crossings. I lost count around thirteen crossings. And by crossings I mean, no rocks or chance to leap it: you have to get wet. Luckily both of my trail experiences in the area have been on incredibly humid days so there was no hesitation; for a few of the crossings I would even jump in with both feet to splash some cold water on myself. The first ten miles were on 'moderate' trails that didn't provide too much technicality, but plenty of mud since it had stormed pretty hard the night before. Though I wished it was at a later aid station, I decided to swap out shoes at the drop bag station ten miles in. I have no NASCAR knowledge, but this pit stop would not cut it I'm sure. I unpinned my bib from my shirt and placed it on my shorts because I couldn't take running anymore in my sweat drenched shirt. And I swapped my muddy/heavy HOKA Rapa Nui out with my Clifton. During our last trail long run, I made the exact same swap during the run and felt completely rejuvenated then and during the race. The girl at the aid station questioned why I changed shoes and pointed out that my Clifton were just going to get wet and muddy, too. "Temporary relief" I claimed was the motive.
A little advice for those who buy HOKA Clifton (so this should apply to literally everyone), go ahead and put those ortholite insoles that come with the shoes in before using them. I hadn't done so and after one creek crossing, my insoles were bunching up and really getting on my nerves. Travis was a good bit ahead of me around this point but still in distance to hold a conversation. I told him that I was going to rip out the insoles at the next aid station as we started winding down the course's first switchbacks. Thankfully they were few and far between because I HATE switchbacks. This was probably the comedic highlight of the race. There was a leap-able creek right after I said that the insoles were coming out and when I attempted to jump the creek, my left leg went into the mud well passed my ankle and in my next stride felt like someone yanked my leg out; I would've face planted had I not caught myself with my hands. I turned around and my left shoe was out of sight. I had to reach comically deep into the mud to find it and then had far too hard of a struggle pulling it free. At that point I decided to just pull the insoles out and bareback the rest of the race. This section of trail was beautiful, even in the muddy condition.
Like always, here is a peek into what song was playing most often in my head during this race:
Around 17 miles Travis and I made our first mistake, his only, of the day. We crossed the road and headed down the trail that was originally the course, but had to be cut out of the race. And we wasted five minutes before turning around. Ten minutes of irrelevant running later, we were back on the course. And in trail running if you're not within seconds of someone you have no idea how near they are. Naturally we assumed not that someone had closed in on us during those ten minutes, but that we were no longer leading. Neither was the case really. The next section was my least favorite. One of the hardest, definitely the longest climb came on the road. This road wound up and up forever and Travis and I have clashing mindsets about roads during trail races. He said that he always thinks he's going to feel good when he hits the road in the middle of trail races, but never does. I know that I am going to feel like hell on the road and always do. I think trails mask the fatigue in your legs somewhat and then when you hit the road, every little pain you've accumulated is exasperated. And Trivium didn't pick the most forgiving two-three miles of road for us to run. A long steep climb led to an even steeper decent before climbing a double decker hill that brought me to my first and only walk that I felt was used productively. Halfway up the hill I started walking, caught my breath and took in two GUs and downed my bottle. I decided then that I just needed to weather the storm, keep Travis in sight, and prepare for the last ten or so miles back in the woods.
Good little climb after 24 miles.
The race was actually a huge progression when it came to technicality which was pretty awesome. I like that the first dozen miles weren't too strenuous, but when we were going through the aid station at mile 23, the race hadn't been super technical yet which was friendly to those out of shape like us. When we re-entered the woods with eight miles to go, I caught a second wind. Unsure of how long it would last I decided to run for home, eight miles out. And with my luck being how it is, the technicality of the course sky rocketed within a mile of running away from Travis. I instantly regretted the decision when I looked up at the extremely intimidating creek bed that seemed to be at an unfair incline. I talk to myself a lot in races and at this point I vividly recall saying- well shit, you've already committed to the move. So I had the hardest, but best climb of my young trail running career. I had such a burn going through my legs and back, but was convinced that Travis was going to reel me in so I kept digging. I was focusing in on my breathing because I knew that if I let that get out of control during the hardest climb that I would be crawling home once I topped it. Eventually the climb ended and I felt like collapsing, but instead I decided to pick up the pace and took off at the top. Pretty sure at the time that I was ripping my hamstrings by doing so, but my legs came under me in a mile or so and I was flying. Then just as intimidating as the climb Hanging Rock dished out came an equally if not more scary descent. I took the first few steps too fast and didn't have the strength in my legs to slow my roll at that point. Thankfully the Clifton can absorb a lot of the blows that comes with bombing rocky descent because there were several sections where you had no choice but stop out rocks and I would have loved for there to have been a photographer on that decline. I was flailing hard and must've had an epic fear face going because I was convinced that I was going to go down and being surrounded by a dry, but terribly rocky creek bed, going down wasn't one of the things I necessarily wanted to do.
One of many incredible post-race views.
That descent gave me a shot of adrenaline, perhaps from being happy to not have fallen and I knew that I had to be getting half way done with my eight mile kick, but back at the parking lot in Hanging Rock the sign was either tossed by rapscallions or the storm blew it down. I went right initially, turned back, went left, turned back and wasted a solid ten minutes. Then, completely distraught, stormed back up the scary decent that I had just made when I ran into Travis head on. We came back out of the woods and guessed right again. A few steps after the point where I initially turned around we saw the 27 mile aid station. He said that he was toasted, but I still felt good so I took back off again. The last four miles were almost entirely downhill. And not a gradual descent. Annoyingly, a bus full of tourists, incapable of speaking or comprehending a lick of English unloaded and were taking to the trail that we were running for the next mile or so. Now after four hours of running through the mountains I'm not the nicest person. Especially when people don't move when I ask them un-politely to do so. After weaving through all of the disoriented orientals for awhile my patience was dissolving and I decided that I was done slowing down. Slowing your roll down hill takes an amount of energy that I simply couldn't provide. So when I said on your left and little chubby cheeks hops right in my path, his little chubby behind hit the dirt as a result of taking a forearm. If I were to take in the sights in a foreign speaking country I would at least learn what left and right meant in their language so that I wouldn't catch a flying forearm.
Mile 28 of the race.
The final few miles were very enjoyable. I passed a group of hikers and they said "Woah! You're winning, how do you feel?" I thought that was odd, and I responded honestly- pretty tired. Just like with every fireworks show, this course had an awesome grand finale. There was probably one of the deepest creeks that we had to cross and we crossed it four times in the last mile. Completely unnecessary creek crossings, but it was fun because I knew how close I was to being done and I enjoyed every one of them because even with the feeling that your legs are going to never forgive you, when you run through creeks it's impossible to not feel like a kid. The finish line came soon after the fourth crossing and I was happy to be done, but happier to have run the course. I chatted up a local running store owner working the chute who loves him some HOKA Stinson which led to a lengthy conversation about our favorite shoes. Travis came through next with Harper, which is a ridiculous feat. If someone put a twenty pound weight in my arms, my arm would have fallen off quicker than Spongebobs when flipping through the channels for a workout. The rain held off throughout the entire race, but began sprinkling shortly after we finished. Enjoy these pictures of pain that came after the race:
First time sitting down since the race. Which is hard when your legs cease to exist.
Harper telling us that we are wimps. And that we kept her waiting way too long. Gots things to do.
These are some of my favorite east coast trails that I've run. And just like I keep returning to Joe n Throw in Fairmont for my coffee and lunch fix, I will return to Trivium Racing events. At Joe n Throw the owner/manager takes great pride in making delicious coffee and food. He really cares about the customers and their satisfaction. Plus, everything there is damn good. After the race I drove back to the campsite at Pilot Mountain, ate a Ron Swanson approved Chipotle burrito, showered and headed back to Hanging rock to hike up to the rock with Katie. When we were on our way back to the car I ran into the race director. He was the coolest guy. I love that he and his wife put on hundreds of events together and he seems to really care about what he does. I mean, the guy was out on the course running a 50k of his own just to make sure that everyone was enjoying the race and knew where to go. You can tell when someone is genuine and he cared about each of his events. That makes me and should make everyone care about his events. This was the inaugural year for this 50k/50 mile and it was brilliantly put together. I've been to races larger in attendance that were absolutely terribly constructed. This course provided a little bit of everything NC has to offer, my personal favorite race director, an abundance of very friendly aid stations, and awesome goodies for those who do races for goodies. Top three got a really slick jacket, a makeshift/awesome horseshoe medal, and for winning I got a bitchin Ultraspire vest! Also, when I got home I went to throw my, what was believed to be generic race day shirt on, and found out that it was an awesome long sleeve and hooded shirt. I've worn it on and off around the house every day since. Coolest shirt. Coolest people. With my two mishaps and being very early in my training, I know that my inaugural course record is soft, but I intend on bettering and defending it next year. I certainly plan on hitting up some of Trivium's other events. One event that the director sold me on was their Moonlight Bootlegger 5k. Who wouldn't want to run a dark 5k and throw back some moonshine afterwards? When I am looking to add some fun races to my schedule in 2015, I will be making reference to Trivium's race calendar.
HOKA filled closet, with my award resting on the two pair of shoes I destroyed in NC
Canary in the Cave 25k. The plan is to muff up this local race pretty good. By then I should be fit enough to do a good bit of destruction. Winning was fun. Plan on making that a habit.
More trail running videos.
WV HS CC State Championship November 1st for Mr. Van Horn. Trying to get him to the podium.
Big block of training, but some tales are bound to be told.
Like always, thanks for tuning in and giving me your support. If you want to follow my doings on a more consistent basis, my twitter is always going off- https://twitter.com/mintburrycrunch
If you have raced recently comment in the section below and tell me where you ran and how it went!
I constantly have digletts asking about my running and keeping me motivated. Nows the time to hop on to the bandwagon. 2015 is going to be a big year for us.
.jpg)
