This blog started two years ago with a marathon training focus. I started training in January for a May marathon. Admittedly, five months of training was less than ideal. I am running two half marathons (and no I don't consider that the same as running a full marathon [even if the two half marathons sum to 26.2 miles]). So, did i learn my lesson? Did I start training sooner?
I will let you decide. The blog I am writing is my first one devoted to training. The first half marathon is a week away. Training is a tricky thing. I treat marathon training like a lovelorn mistress. Even worse, I want to break it off each distance run, anything longer than 7 miles. I would feed it the most cliche lines: "It's not you, it's me", "I am like super busy these days", "We are not a good fit, you know, we just want different things." Still, I bite my tongue, lace up my Merrell's, and put some miles under my feet.
I have trained. Really, I have. It is not the training that will score a medal. Nor is it training that would leave me cruising across the finish line. Like Gloria Gaynor, I will survive. My Jell-o legs will carry my across the finish line, and while my face will be flushed, come Monday I should be, for all intents and purposes, mobile.
And that's all that matters, right? I will run 13.1 miles, wear my medal proudly, and eat no less than three bananas. I might even get to enjoy the festivities, unlike two years ago. After the marathon, the blood was completely drained from my brain, and I couldn't piece together a sentence, forget about enjoying the after party.
I can always justify not training as vigorously by telling myself the first half marathon is training for the second. It is about as realistic a training opportunity as I will get.
April 29, 2012
April 21, 2012
By Request
Yes, I do take requests - whether I follow through, is completely different story. This particular request was to illustrate the last post. And here you have it:
April 16, 2012
How Not to Blog
Reader,
When others blog, I imagine, there is nothing but the utmost level of concentration. Every word is decided painfully, and then scratched for a better choice. Sweating that the sentence structure is weak, and the mounting string of loose sentences will bore the reader into unsubscribing forever.
Then there is me - sitting on my couch, lazily watching Heroes, glancing back at the computer screen to type lackadaisically. It is an insult to you, reader, and bloggers everywhere. I am sure the multitude of bloggers are ready to troll my comment list, and get under my skin using their words. Although maybe they will use reverse psychology and not comment at all. Yes, that will be their play. It is genius in its malice and simplicity.
Maybe you will give me some credit, it is Heroes season 3, and the show is getting good again. So that's something.
Apologetically,
Drucifer
When others blog, I imagine, there is nothing but the utmost level of concentration. Every word is decided painfully, and then scratched for a better choice. Sweating that the sentence structure is weak, and the mounting string of loose sentences will bore the reader into unsubscribing forever.
Then there is me - sitting on my couch, lazily watching Heroes, glancing back at the computer screen to type lackadaisically. It is an insult to you, reader, and bloggers everywhere. I am sure the multitude of bloggers are ready to troll my comment list, and get under my skin using their words. Although maybe they will use reverse psychology and not comment at all. Yes, that will be their play. It is genius in its malice and simplicity.
Maybe you will give me some credit, it is Heroes season 3, and the show is getting good again. So that's something.
Apologetically,
Drucifer
April 11, 2012
An Open Letter to My Dinner
Dear Cow,
Thank you existing and being my dinner. You were delicious and tender. The muscle that kept you alive, is now sustaining my wife and me, and I offer my sincerest thanks.
In the same way that I thanked you, I would like to think that you should thank me. You could have been sold to some culinary fool who, while wearing a Kiss the Chef apron, over salted your tender sinews, coated you pepper, and cooked you to a dry, charred crisp.
I respect you, and provided a soothing, balanced marinade bath to soak overnight - cumin and pepper ground in a mortar, lime and vinegar and garlic each providing some bite, and olive oil to finish it off. It does not stop there; you were cooked rare, and well-rested to retain all your delicious juices.
Most Thankfully,
Drucifer
Thank you existing and being my dinner. You were delicious and tender. The muscle that kept you alive, is now sustaining my wife and me, and I offer my sincerest thanks.
In the same way that I thanked you, I would like to think that you should thank me. You could have been sold to some culinary fool who, while wearing a Kiss the Chef apron, over salted your tender sinews, coated you pepper, and cooked you to a dry, charred crisp.
I respect you, and provided a soothing, balanced marinade bath to soak overnight - cumin and pepper ground in a mortar, lime and vinegar and garlic each providing some bite, and olive oil to finish it off. It does not stop there; you were cooked rare, and well-rested to retain all your delicious juices.
Most Thankfully,
Drucifer
April 10, 2012
Scooter's Big Night
A sign that a blog entry should not be published: as you are pressing the backspace key, the webpage disappears leaving you at the blog's homepage.
The computer decided I will not be writing about the importance of style and grammar. Instead, I will write briefly about Scooter, and call it a night.
Scooter is curled up next to me at the end of the couch. Her brown collar matches nicely against the couch's dark basil hue. Her tongue is hanging out lazily, draped over the cushion. Her left paw is bent back in a position that only appears awkward and uncomfortable. The twitching starts - her front paws vibrate and stop. Twitch, pause, repeat. Then the big twitch hits; her back end briefly shakes, and I feel it. A car driving by startles her. Her eyes are now open and alert. Her tongue, dry and blood orange red, belies the concern about the car. Unsure of her next move, she slurps her tongue, and flops off the couch only to settle on the floor. It is a busy night for the Scooter.
The computer decided I will not be writing about the importance of style and grammar. Instead, I will write briefly about Scooter, and call it a night.
Scooter is curled up next to me at the end of the couch. Her brown collar matches nicely against the couch's dark basil hue. Her tongue is hanging out lazily, draped over the cushion. Her left paw is bent back in a position that only appears awkward and uncomfortable. The twitching starts - her front paws vibrate and stop. Twitch, pause, repeat. Then the big twitch hits; her back end briefly shakes, and I feel it. A car driving by startles her. Her eyes are now open and alert. Her tongue, dry and blood orange red, belies the concern about the car. Unsure of her next move, she slurps her tongue, and flops off the couch only to settle on the floor. It is a busy night for the Scooter.
April 7, 2012
Cold Run
How was my run this morning? In a word, Cold.
In 39 words... Not too bad. Kept a decent pace for 36 minutes. Knocked out about 4-5 miles which is reasonable for what was to be a short run. A chilly 31.4 degrees did little to stop my pursuit of half marathon glory.
Sidenotes: Watching Scooter stalk birds is quite funny. Wearing British socks does not make me feel less American. Thinking about doing work is less productive, but more fulfilling, than actually doing work.
In 39 words... Not too bad. Kept a decent pace for 36 minutes. Knocked out about 4-5 miles which is reasonable for what was to be a short run. A chilly 31.4 degrees did little to stop my pursuit of half marathon glory.
Sidenotes: Watching Scooter stalk birds is quite funny. Wearing British socks does not make me feel less American. Thinking about doing work is less productive, but more fulfilling, than actually doing work.
April 4, 2012
Why I Run
The other day a co-worker challenged the institution of recreational running by stating, "I would never pay to run." Meanwhile, I paid to run in many races, 5K and 10K and 15K and 13.1 miles and 26.2 miles... my initial reaction the comment was defense which was followed many hours later with reflection. Why do I pay for running?
I do not enjoy running. It is okay, and much better than any day at the office except bonus day. The feeling after a solid run is good, but not the runner's high some claim. Maybe I run to stay in shape or to remain good at other sports. But, I do not need to pay to run in a race to achieve those results.
I race because I am bullied into it. I do not run races alone, rather when a friend asks me to run. There are many ways to keep in touch: some write letters, or join a softball team, or enjoy libations, or play poker, or travel, and so on. Running is my way to keep in touch.
And the free t-shirts.
I do not enjoy running. It is okay, and much better than any day at the office except bonus day. The feeling after a solid run is good, but not the runner's high some claim. Maybe I run to stay in shape or to remain good at other sports. But, I do not need to pay to run in a race to achieve those results.
I race because I am bullied into it. I do not run races alone, rather when a friend asks me to run. There are many ways to keep in touch: some write letters, or join a softball team, or enjoy libations, or play poker, or travel, and so on. Running is my way to keep in touch.
And the free t-shirts.
April 3, 2012
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