I DON'T EVEN DRIVE THAT FAR.............

Usually, if people are passionate about a certain hobby or topic, they love talking about it to anyone and everyone. I remember when one of my friends was getting married. He was super excited. That was good. He was so excited that he actually talked to me about their china pattern. That was bad.

I have, over the years, discovered an exception to this rule. Namely, I dislike talking about running with non-runners. Running is actually one of my favorite topics, if the person has any idea of what they’re talking about. However, if the person is like 99% of planet earth and doesn’t know much about running; I’d really rather move on to the weather, whatever interests them, china patterns……..anything. I don’t mean that in a condescending way, its just that people don’t get it so I’d rather not bother. I don’t get the trivial details of their hobby either.

Anyhow, as a coping mechanism, I thought this would be an excellent place to go over common things I hear from people when they want to talk about running. I’ll preface these by saying that I generally think the people who try to talk running with me are being very nice and are obviously trying to focus the topic on something that they think I’d like to talk about. Here’s where the miscommunication begins and it continues with these little gems.

1) How far is it?

What they say: The conversation will turn around to running (despite my best attempts) and I’ll be asked about some upcoming race. If it’s a marathon (and this is another reason for me to stop marathons) the question will be followed up with “How far is it?”

What I say: I simply reply that it’s 26 miles. I don’t like to give any ammo for the conversation continuing longer than it has to so I keep answers simple. No 26.2 because then I could easily end up explaining the 0.2.

What I’m thinking: In this deal I see it coming a mile away, so I’m just concentrating on not appearing annoyed. I usually pull it off. For the record, a marathon is 26.2 miles, a half-marathon is half that, and an ultra-marathon is anything above that. However, the main thing that’s going through my head is that I’m hoping against hope that we don’t move on to gem #2. My bet is that 99.7% of the time; we do.

2) THAT joke.

What they say: See above. They ask about the length of the marathon, I give the reply and cringe because I know they’re going to say “I don’t even drive that far!!!!”

What I say: I mainly smile and pray that someone else will come in on the conversation and they can start talking for a while. Of course, this can backfire in that you can end up having double the “fun”.

What I’m thinking: Wow, just wow. Are there really 10,000 people that think I haven’t heard THAT joke? Or are there 10,000 people in the U.S. that have independently come up with that joke and shared it with me as an original? If you know the original author of that joke, please tell him/her that it’s really kind of clever the first time you hear it so kudos to them. Also please punch them in the face.

3) Knees, knees and more knees.

What they say: Usually a story about how they hurt their knees running, or how a friend did, or both. It can also take the form of a direct warning about how I’m going to hurt my knees and it’s just a matter of time. Sometimes this is an explanation as to why they don’t currently run all the time like they did in high school. Sometimes this is a back-handed way of telling me that running is bad for me.

What I say: I just calmly say that I’ve been pretty fortunate so far.

What I’m thinking: Would it be OK for me to poke someone in their beer belly and warn them about cardiovascular disease? Well, then why is it OK for tubby to turn in to an orthopedic consultant?

4) A comment about my weight.

What they say: This usually comes from someone I know after I’ve gotten out of shape and am no longer at race weight. Basically, they say that I look good and that I was way too thin before. I’ve been told that I was “too thin” or “unhealthy”. This doesn’t happen a lot, but it’s happened.

What I say: When told I was too thin, I replied “too thin to what?” I didn’t reply to the comment about looking unhealthy.

What I’m thinking: This one actually pisses me off more than all the rest, including THAT joke. It’s so ignorant I don’t even know where to start. Someone can be 20 pounds overweight and they’re fine, but don’t dare get to a low bodyfat so that you can run fast. That’s unhealthy.

Again, would it be OK to poke them in their belly and tell them that they’re unhealthy? My wife has told me that she likes the way I look better when I’m not at race weight. She’s entitled to comment and I make sure that I save the skeletal look only for when I’m really trying to bust a good time. Everyone else besides her can bite me.

5) You should run with……..

What they say: Something like “oh, my son/daughter/husband/wife/nephew/neice/brother/sister/friend” runs as well, you should run with them sometime.

What I say: Oh yeah? I always hope that a good “Oh, yeah?” can get me out of this one.

What I’m thinking: The son/daughter/husband/wife/nephew/neice/brother/sister/friend is often one of two categories.

Category A- So slow that I literally cannot physically run with them

Category B- Some stud who I MIGHT be able to run with if I’m doing a tempo run and they are taking it VERY easy.


6) RUN FORREST RUN!!!

What they say: Actually this is only peripherally related to this topic, but I had to include it because I hear it so much. People will yell “Run, Forrest run” at you while you’re running. They’re usually in a car or somewhere out of the way.

What I say: Absolutely nothing. I used to smile, like “Hey, clever joke”, but I can’t pretend any more.

What I’m thinking: When did that freaking movie even come out? 1991? ….and you still think that’s clever? As an aside, I heard about a guy who used to say “sit, fat-arse, sit” when people gave him the Forrest Gump line. I wouldn’t use it, but that’s quite a rejoinder.

7) How far did/do you run?

What they say: Usually happens when I’m getting back from a run and talk to somebody or if someone says they saw me running. They’ll ask me how far I ran or how far I usually run.

What I say: It’s easy if they asked how far I just ran. I can quickly just smile and tell them. It’s a little tricky if I ran far as it could lead to THAT joke, but otherwise I’m cool. If they ask how far I usually run, I stumble all over myself. I know they don’t want to hear running geek minutiae about long days, rest days, tempo runs, and track workouts and about how there often isn’t a “typical” day. A lot of times, I’ll just tell them what my weekly mileage is and leave it at that.

What I’m thinking: This one is actually real harmless. Sometimes I’m worried we’re headed for THAT joke. Sometimes I do think about how to relate how much I “typically” run, but for the most part this doesn’t really lead anywhere special and I often appreciate them taking an interest.

Of course, based on this last statement, my ambivalence suggest that there’s the tiny chance that I’M the one with the problem, not the nice people asking me about my hobby……….

Performances that prove I'm old, Part TWO

It's the early '80s, I'm a spindly teenager in my basement on a Friday night and, unlike the children of parents who actually love them, I don't have cable. In a situation like this, you are forced to sit through whatever video show the local station likes to play at midnight. They all sort of run together for me. I remember a show called "Nightracks" or something like that. It was a loop of Michael Jackson and assorted artists and I was unequivocally not impressed. Somewhere, all the beloved children were getting to see Van Halen on their televisions. Every now and again, though, one of the network shows would show "Urgh! A Music War".



The movie was a compilation of several different punk/alternative/progressive/heydontlabelme/new wave groups performing live. When Urgh! was on, my angst was soothed as these bands were never even on cable. I was on the cutting edge for precisely two hours. Mind you, I was more of a metal kid at that time, but beggars can't be choosers. I remember the performances being very strange and different. One hit wonder Gary Numan (the one hit was "Cars") was shown puttering around on stage in some bizarre device that looked like he borrowed it off the set of the movie "Tron"; all while singing a song that was unintelligible. Wall of Voodoo (speaking of one hit wonders) performed a song that was equally random and pointless. There were punk acts that did the prototype punk performance. X did a pretty good number, and if I recall, the Police and XTC did "So Lonely". However, all of those acts looked like barbershop quartets compared to the Cramps. I'm not a Cramps fan and didn't even become one in my college punk/alternative/progressive/heydontlabelme/new wave phase. However, this performance burned a long-term impression into my brain.




I didn't think it was cool. Cool is not the right word. I didn't like the music, I really didn't like the guy's getup and I really didn't get what the whole thing was about. Regardless, I was transfixed after about three seconds. Watching it again, I have the same reaction. First, there's the appearance of Lux Interior, the lead "singer". I'll start with the pants. He's wearing what appears to be 80's metal spandex pants cut down to the point where they barely cover his junk and give him a repulsive plumbers crack. Somehow, these puppies stay on him while he cavorts around the stage working the microphone.

This brings up point number two. A very prominent part of the act involves him performing acts with the microphone that are probably illegal in many southern states. Was it to get that special sound? Was he just trying to be over the top? Was he just crazy?

I'm landing on the latter. Most punk bands go for anger and noise. When I listened to the Sex Pistols or Minor Threat, their three cords and unintelligible vocals all said the same thing; namely that they were pissed off at the world. What part of the world was not really the point, at least not for a 15 year old without cable. Metal groups had a similar theme, except they slowed it down a notch or 100 so they could tell you about women and booze. New Wave groups just looked like what I thought the anti-social kids at school would look like in 10 years.

The Cramps, however, were just plain batcrap. There's not necessarily anger; they're playing blues riffs. They don't smash or burn anything or go out of their way to spit on the audience. It looks like a mental patient was allowed to share his visions with a large audience; all while the band calmly plays in the background. Not surprisingly, the Cramps once played a gig at a mental hospital. Johnny Cash played prisons; The Cramps played for mental patients that probably didn't know anything about the band or why they were there. There's no statement except you can get paid to be this crazy.

Lux Interior passed away last February. RIP Lux....................you crazy, crazy mutha.

I'm too old for this.................

Training has started in semi-earnest. Right now, I'm just putting in the miles and building a base. The challenge isn't so much in the intensity or volume of training; that will come later. No, right now the challenge is running when I don't feel like a runner. Compared to times that I'm in shape to race/run I'm 15-20 pounds overweight. Right now, 8 minute pace feels up-tempo and I have to really watch how fast (this is a relative term) I go or I pay for it the next day. Truly humbling and I haven't fought through anything like this for the last 5 years. In short, I feel like I'm starting all over again.

So far, the plan isn't really involved. 7 hours a week of easy running. Next week, I get to add a neuromuscular workout. 10 kilometers on the track alternating 200 meters at 10K race pace and 200 meters of recovery jogging. The idea is to just get the legs used to a quicker turnover. It also gives some nice variety too since all I've been doing is slogging around a couple of times a day so far. The only way to screw it up is to run too fast on the 200 meter reps.

Performances that prove I'm old, Part ONE

Michael Stipe had hair, you couldn't understand the lyrics, and they could walk down the street without anyone knowing who they were.

To kick off your weekend, I give you early 80's REM

Training plan (check), OCD (check)

Well, I celebrated my newfound vigor for training with a walk down memory lane. Specifically, I ran when I shouldn't, while knowing I shouldn't. I'm all geeked up w/ the new training goal and then immediately got the crud that's been going around. I felt a little better in the afternoon and it was a gorgeous day here in the valley. Surely, a slow 6 miler wouldn't hurt. Wrong. I WAS feeling better and now I have aches, a sore throat and a fever (I think). Makes me wonder how bad the run will be tomorrow!

NERD ALERT!

So, I finally decided to crap or get off the dryer (this is from a story about my brother's friend Monds. I may share it some day). I need to either get going for a fall race or become Mr Hobby Jogger for a year. Neither are bad options, I just have been debating and soul-searching as to which I wanted to do. One complicating factor in this is that I am not yet mature enough to do a race for fun. I go in to a race trying to either set a PR or trying to get a time that indicates I'm on track for setting a PR later. This is not exactly a healthy way to go about pursuing your hobby, but it's been a fact for over a decade now so I doubt it will change. As evidence of this, my sister once asked me if I wanted to come up and do a 5k that she was doing with her husband. Instead of saying "Sure, what a great family experience. I'll ask Dawn if she'd like to run as well"; I asked her two very specific and important questions:

*-Is the course certified? I don't want to set a PR and find out that the course was short. Even worse, I don't want some slow time because some schmuck can't measure 3.1 miles.

*-Is it hilly? I don't like hilly courses. My times are way off.

She didn't even reply back to me. I don't blame her. In her mind I'm probably the guy that comes to a pick-up game of touch football with cleats and a mouthpiece. I think I'm this way largely because I race to set new physical limits for myself. If I'm not doing that, I can recreate the rest of the race experience by running around my neighborhood and then eating a bagel afterwards while playing loud music. I can even fish out some old medals from races I've forgotten and have a fake awards ceremony (this is a good way to spend a Saturday morning in the 'burg, but I digress).

Anyway, after deciding that I was going to race this fall, I decided on the Army Ten Miler. The choice here also reveals some unhealthy mentality. I want revenge. In the 2007 Army Ten Miler I was very fit, feeling good and clocked a 67:30; well short of my target 65. It was also 90 degrees that day, but that didn't stop me from getting ticked. I have exacted revenge on the Charlottesville 10-miler course before and it is, in fact, pretty sweet. So, as much as one can get even with 10 miles of pavement winding through our nation's capital, that's my program.

Now to the geek part. I was getting excited about the prospect of training for this and exacting revenge on pavement. Then, I really got excited when I committed my program to spreadsheet.

Yep, I have my program on two pages of excel. The training phases are color coded. I won't bore you with the rest of the details, but there are times when I find myself excited about something that would be a boring class assignment to a lot of other people. I've learned to accept this inner nerd, just like I've learned to accept that I don't like running for running's sake and that I am able to personify and subsequently hate a road race course. Anyway, the good news is that every time I get tired during training, or when I am not able to work up enough hatred of the Army Ten Miler course to get me out the door; I can always look at my beautiful spreadsheet and get invigorated.

Rasslin'

Landon got 5th place in the Regional Wrestling Tournament. This was quite an achievement for his first year in the sport. It also meant that he was one agonizing place away from going to the state tournament. Fifth place guys go as "alternates". This means they have to be ready to wrestle, be at the appropriate weight, all the while knowing that they'll probably not be part of the tournament. So, we all went down to Salem for the weekend knowing that we had probably seen Landon's last match of the year. Nonetheless, we had a great time and saw some really tremendous wrestlers, including the guy who won Landon's weight class. Thankfully this kid will be graduated when Landon takes his shot next year. He was an absolute beast.

I could go on and on about the insights I gained on wrestling, the life lessons on display by these talented kids. I could do that, but I'm short on time and need to share the best line of the weekend. That line was delivered by a waitress at Ruby Tuesdays. After all Harrisonburg wrestlers were finished for the tourney, we took the guys out for some much deserved face-stuffing. She was asking the coach about who we were, etc. When Coach Dickerson related that this was a wrestling team and he had coached them for a few years, she chose an interesting area of inquiry regarding Mike's daily interaction with a room full of sweaty teenage boys. That area was specifically their funk........in her words:

"What's that smell like? It must be some awful combination of AXE body spray and B.O."

Well summarized Ruby Tuesday lady, well summarized. Intellectually, physically and certainly aromatically; teenage boys can indeed be reduced to a combination of AXE and B.O.