Update...

This past week was looking bad until I was able to salvage some good running days. These included a fast 3.1K, though untimed, another hard 5 mile run, 8 miles on a very windy day (by the way, why is it that meteorologists can predict the direction of the wind, including changes of direction, every day and still manage to forget to highlight that, "though the winds will be blowing in from the south, at precisely 2:33 in the afternoon tomorrow, the winds will eerily shift to blow from the north just in enough time for the last 4 miles of Charles' run; at which point winds will return to blow from the south bringing in the warm air - just after Charles' run), and then another 5 mile easy run. It is this week that needs to be the final tune up prior to shifting gears into steady speed for consecutive weeks - 6 precisely. One final note, I may have the weather playing games with me, but at least I don't have dogs chasing me down. In fact, I passed a pitt bull on my run and it just looked at me. I am not bragging, and certainly not in spite of AJMac's recent and frequent brushes with death, but I should say... nah, nah, nah, nah (with tough sticking out and hands wide against my ears like a ten point buck - I will probably now get mauled on my next run).

Training binge

I am in the middle of an eight-day training binge between a demanding time at work earlier this week and my taper period, which I will start next week, leading up to the Whistlestop Duathlon. I am trying to cram in as many miles as possible to make up for lost time. And my legs are feeling the consequences.

My stats this week:
Sunday: lunges, 15 minutes
Wednesday: run 6.5m
Thursday: run 4.7m
Friday: ride 45m
Saturday morning: transition practice ("bricks") -- 8 x ride 1.2m, run 1k (a/k/a, 8 x "Why are my legs not moving?")
Saturday afternoon: lunges, 15 mins.

A new record for dogs eluded

On my training ride yesterday I outran nine dogs in five separate Dog Related Incidents (DRI). That's got to be some kind of record both for DRI's and for total number of dogs. The ride was 45 miles long, so maybe I get the award for miles per DRI.

Shortly after I moved here, before I knew any better, I called animal control on a group of chocolate labs who reside in a yard I pass on one of my favorites rides in this area. The dogs chase me every time I ride by. But they don't just chase me, they hunt me. They lie in wait in their yard, and as I approach, they run not toward me but rather toward the spot on the road where they are most likely to catch me. That's right: they take the angle.

After a particularly harrowing DRI at this location, I complained to the county animal control officer. He never called back, so I phoned him to follow up. Perturbed, he assured me that he had driven by the house and seen no dogs. Driven by! He didn't even pretend to have made the slightest effort to investigate. But his claim wasn't credible in the first place. Those dogs are always there, scheming chaos and destruction.

I got the message. The law is not on my side. I have search in vain in the Alabama constitution for a right to send one's unleashed dogs rushing hell-bent onto the highway ahead of (not after) cyclists, but have found no textual support for such a right. It must be one of thos penumbral emanations, like the right to have an abortion, or to share rap music out of one's car window.

Since then I have armed myself with pepper spray. Until a couple weeks ago I hadn't actually used the pepper spray because I always managed to outrun everything that chased me. But recently I decided to teach the chocolate labs a lesson. As I approached their house I deliberately slowed down to let the ring leader come alongside. Predictably taking the angle, he intercepted me about 70 yards down the road from the house. As he came even with my chain ring, I planted a solid shot of pepper spray right on his nose.

Who knew chocolate labs have disc brakes? That dog stopped so fast, it was enough to make one doubt the law of inertia.

And yet yesterday, just a couple of weeks later, he was right back at it. As I rode by, my nemesis was carefully calculating vectors as he sprinted for a spot ahead of me on the road. He hadn't learned.

I don't intend ever to stop and explain the correlation.

Spring is here! almost.

Tuesday's weather was exactly what my body had been waiting for for the last two months. During the day the temperature had creeped into the 60's at times. At night it was still temperate, with an absolutely clear sky, moderately humid, and on a Tuesday night, there was noone out driving. Perfect. When I left the house around 8:30, I had been planning on a longish run, maybe 8 - 10 miles; see what my ankle and my lungs were up to. As I ran down 1A though, I felt great and decided to try another 5K race pace. I came back to the house after 21' 51". That's still a far cry from 18' 59", but a 7'17" split is enough inspiration to last me, ohhh.... I'd say at least through next week. Slowly, but surely, I'll get there. It's just that, unfortunately for me, this is a race that does go to the swift, and the strong.

The rest of the week was uneventful, and it snowed yesterday.

Monday: 4.7 miles easy
Tuesday: The best running day I've had in a long, long time.
Wednesday: 6.5 miles easy
Thursday: 4.7 miles
Friday: 4.7 miles
Saturday: nothing yet, I slept in.

Holy Week.

I envy AJMAC and CGB who both have recently had warmer climates in which to run and perhaps even frolic in the warm Florida surf as they may sometimes be so inclined. Good for them. I had the rare opportunity to speak with them both in person during the same day today. In fact, all three of us were in the same state at the same time, but alas, unable to run together. Oh well.

Two weeks ago I rolled my ankle playing basketball. Last week I ran again after a week-long, orthopedic-related running hiatus. Hence, today I have some numbers for you. Surprisingly, the ankle felt OK last week, though a bit stiff. Also, despite the fact that I still look like Quasimoto when I run anything longer than four miles, I'm feeling a lot better when I run. I mean, it's not so much 'work' as it is 'not something that I despise' any more. I'm getting there again. But I digress. The numbers... (and these are not nearly as impressive as those of either of my teammates, but it's the best I got right now.)

Monday: ski a tad with kin in Maine and 3 mile easy run
Tuesday: 4.7 mile tempo run (that may seem like an odd distance, but it's a loop by my house. It's also exactly 1.5 5K's.)
Wednesday: absolutely nothing! we'll blame it on the ankle.
Thursday: 6 mile easy run
Friday: 4.7 mile tempo run
Saturday: 3.1 miles race pace (which at this point, on a semi-bum ankle is evidently only around 7:40. Not proud to say it.)

The ladder-type running schedule seems to work pretty well for me and I think I'll stick with it for now. At some point when my ankle is 100% again, I'm going to start some interval training and some hill workouts and work them in twice a week. But not yet.

Back to ambling in Dixie

Mrs. AJMac, Daughter Mac, and I have spent the last several days with family in New England. We've had a great time catching up with the family and observing Holy Week. But the cold, snowy weather has made it a little easier to contemplate our return to Alabama tomorrow. We are trading piles of brownish, crusty snow and refridgerated, 30 mile-per-hour wind gusts for this:

In the northern tundra

A visit to family in Maine and Boston has made training and blogging sporadic. It has also made me appreciate Southern climate. My stats the last two weeks follow.

Last week:
Sunday: fast ride 32m
Monday: ride intervals 10 x 1/2m, 1/2m
Wednesday: ride 45m

This week:
Monday: ski with the brothers Mac
Tuesday: run 4m
Wednesday: run 2m + 10 x short hill
Thursday: run 4m
Friday: run 2m + 5 x long hill
Saturday: run 5m

Burning Calories?

They say that you can burn calories by eating celery. If that is so, then I wonder how many calories I burned this week eating Jewish Apple Cake, M&Ms, granola bars, peanut butter (my personal favorite), a ton of stew, Cinnamon Life Cereal, and a cookie the size of my head (my other personal favorite). I should have lost at least 10 pounds; or is it the other way around considering lifting these to my mouth is the only form of physical exertion I applied this week?

The End of my Vacation...

I am currently cleaning the Florida house and will depart with my family to the cold and dreary at 7:30 tonight. So, today was my off day: a late wake up, big all-you-can-eat breakfast, and a leisurely stroll along the beach with a trolley ride mixed in. It was warm and mostly sunny (some cloudy days; one rainy day). I am tan, rested, and exercised. My long run yesterday was 16 miles. I left at 5:45 in the morning and the stars were still high in the sky and greeting me in abundance. I ran out to the ocean, listened to the waves (I could not see them for it was pitch black dark) and ran back to the sun rising in front of me. It was a good run, though not for working on short speed, but definitely for feeling the legs, gaining the strength, and (as I learned once again) for prayer and reflection. So, to close out the wonderful week of running and the great vacation of beach and sun, my total miles were 43 miles with 15 of those miles for speed. Good-bye sun, here comes the snow...

In the Spirit of Accountability...

This blog was started so that the three of us, NotsoflashGordon, AJMac and CGB, can track each other's running, keep each other accountable, which I also believe means encouraging, and prevail with 18:59 5K races or better. So, in the spirit of accountability, here are two posts in one:

It is great that NotsoflashGordon has been running and even trying to fit workouts in between meals and meetings. I know that it can be tough once you have eaten (see next paragraph) and it can destroy your motivation for the next days run. Provided you did, starting with a nice leisurely stroll is a great way to beat the dulldrums. AJMac, your running and biking is trememdous. As we all know, we can break down the essentials of running and getting faster and even chronicle what we think works best. But, in the end, it is all about the legs and AJMac will have strong legs from both running and the bike.

My schedule has been as follows:
Tuesday - 13 fartleks over 10 miles; 15 sets of floor workout (What I learned: I cannot outrun cars)
Wednesday - 4 mile stretch run in morning; 12 sets of floor workout; 5 miles of speed intervals in the evening (1 x 800, 4 x 400, 4 x 200, 6 strides) (What I learned: I do not have the speed, but I have my strength and endurance coming back so at least I can withstand the intervals - no matter how slow)
Thursday - 8 mile easy run (What I learned: Read the blog first and I would have learned the "easy way" what NotsoflashGordon learned the "hard way" - I still haven't digested the blackened grouper sandwich with fried potato chips and leftover french fries.)
Friday - will be a long-run hopefully followed by an easy stretch run on the weekend to close out a 40+ week.

Today during my 8 mile "grouper sandwich run", I did not wear a shirt so that I could soak in the warm rays. I thought the chicks were checking me out, until I realized that they looked more sick than I did. It then dawned on me that I probably looked like I hadn't digested the grouper sandwich. Then, I came to the sad realization that I always look like I haven't digested my "grouper sandwiches".

Training and tilling

Though I did not manage an actual double workout this past weekend, I did, before my run Saturday, pull approximately 20 pounds of roots out of my backyard. I am trying to convert what used to be a sub-tropical botanic garden on steroids into a soft, green lawn where my daughter can play. I battled the roots all day, tilling the soil with a spade. The outcome of the fight was very much in doubt until late in the afternoon. I am happy to report that I prevailed. But my back is killin' me.

Numbers for last week.
Sunday: 26m ride
Monday: 4m tempo run
Wednesday: 30m ride
Thursday: 4m tempo run
Friday: ride 10 x 1/2m, 1/2m intervals
Saturday: 5m run

The Kreb's Cycle.

Popeye was "the man". He was a real "man's man". Not only could Popeye slug the lights out of his adversary's dome, but countless times he did it after an impromptu, full meal of hardy, iron-rich, fiber-rich, green, leafy vegetables. His metabolism must have been through the roof. (On the down side, he must have been a boy's-room-frequent. Crass, yes, but realistically? But then, seldom does hollywood want us to see the less glamorous side of a super star's daily life.) On Tuesday, I guess I knew, in the back of my mind, that I'm not Popeye when I decided that a meal and a run (in that order) could both be crammed into the hour between work and my next engagement. That little voice telling me it was a bad idea eventually conceded to my optimism of yesteryear when all things cartoon were possible. Oh, the folly of youth. I've since decided that the syntax of my daily activities occasionally needs more careful consideration.

I didn't run yesterday. And I don't feel like running today. There I said it. It feels like a weight lifted off of my shoulders. So... now I'm sitting at my desk watching little rivulettes trickle down my window, weighing the pros and cons of a run in the rain. On any other given day, I would take running in the rain over running in any other kind of weather hands down, but tonight, I have no gumption. I need gumption. Perhaps I'll put on my running clothes and start out with a nice liesurely stroll. We'll see what it turns into.

In Florida...

The first half of the week had me preparing to go to Florida - cleaning the house, doing laundary, making sure my tasks at work are completed, etc. As I result, the house and the office are in order, but I hardly got any sleep. And I definitely, didn't get any running in. So, the first day down in Florida, yesterday, I went for a 7+ mile run. I think at least 7.5 miles, but not sure. Then, I did six sets of push-ups and 11 core exercises. Good workout. This morning, I woke up early, but after the kids and got a tough 12.5 mile run in. I took water and GU and ran out to the bay and back. The back included constant 20+ mph winds in my face. I ran it in 1:41. Not too bad considering I have only run one 10+ mile run inthe past 4 months. So, to round the day out, I did three sets of push-ups and three sets of core for my "floor workout".

I need to make one comment about Florida. It is very flat. (That will be great for speed if it weren't for jumping from 30 degree weather straight into humid 80 degree weather.) The flatness, and the straightness do not provide a lot of variety. So, I am so glad that I got to experience something I have not seen for years - a 40+ year-old woman (I think) with a mullet smoking a cigarette before 7:00 in the morning. She said "hi", but I think that it sounded more like Anthony Hopkinis in Silence of the Lambs. Some people (like me) like the road for breakfast, but there are also cigarettes...

Agreement, of sorts

Despite (or perhaps because of) my bad experiences on the bike here, I have come to a sort of understanding with Southern motorists, which has taken some effort on my part. Other than driving on the right, everything about Southern driving is different than Northern driving. When a traffic light turns green, a Bostonian will move his foot between the brake and the accelerator at least a dozen times before the first Alabaman in line takes his transmission out of "park." Surry to intahrupt yuh bah-be-queu pahdee, but ahv gut places tuh go!

I am starting to understand, however. Back home, if someone is riding one's rear bumper, it's time to hang up the cell phone... or give 'em the finger. Down here, riding bumpers is not taken personally. It's a simple question of fuel efficiency. I'm goin' downtown. Wanna draft?

Drafting is something we cyclists understand well. And it's something Southerners understand well. (Eureka! Common ground!) Especially Southern truck drivers. Trucks create huge slipstreams. Also, truck drivers get it. When a truck passes me on the bike, I can almost hear him begging me to fall in behind. Come on, man. We'll re-create that scene from Breaking Away. It'll be bella! I'll stick both hands out the window when we get to 60 miles per hour. Just don't leave me when the cop pulls us over.

I wish I could say that I'm influencing Southern roadway culture, but I think it's more likely that Southern roadway culture is influencing me. Or perhaps we're coming to a sort of Hegelian sythesis: NASCAR meets Le Grand Tour.

"Winter" in Dixie

Spring came early here in Alabama. I can't tell you when precisely it arrived because I somehow managed to miss winter. The locals complained for three months about the "cold winter weather," but they can't fool me. I'm from Maine. I know Winter. Winter is a friend of mine. And January in Alabama, you, sir, are no Winter.

We got a light dusting of very wet snow in December. It melted before lunch. The next morning in church the pastor referred to it as a "blanket" of snow. I've seen deeper blankets in May.

One day in January the high temperature dipped into the 30's. I received some funny looks through neighbors' windows when I went outside that day. But I always wear shorts whenever I get the opportunity. One never knows how long warm weather like that is going to last.

The warmth has been good for cycling. Usually I'm just getting on the bike this time of year. This year I've logged over 300 miles since January 1st. On the other hand, this weather is not so great for running. We've had high temperatures in the 80's! Uncomfortable business running in heat like that. The locals say it's going to get worse, but I don't see how it can. Maybe they're referring to those poisonous Southern critters of which I've heared tell. I'll add those to the list of things to avoid out on the road.

The survival of a sprinter...

AJMAC forgot to mention that I run barefoot also, but that's not important... or true. For that matter, probably very little of what will follow (if any) is important, and most likely will be incoherent. Bear with me. I just awoke from a much needed, and thoroughly enjoyable, nap.

It has been over a year since I trained seriously toward any athletic goal. Now that I've been running for the last three weeks, I'm remembering why I haven't done it for so long. I have a spare tire where my wash board should be. (I never really had wash board abs. I just wanted to say that, but now I have a spare tire in addition to no wash board.) My lungs, I think, have shrunk in size. My joints crack whenever I take a step, and sometimes when I'm just sitting around doing nothing. Also, I'm balding. I don't know what that has to do with my athletic state, but as long as I'm venting, why not throw that in there? At least, in that regard, I'm in good company on this team. ZING! and though I may regularly wrastle large, ferocious animals that would rather sample my face than have a rectal thermometer shoved up the poop-shoot, I'm not in good shape at all; although, my face (I'm happy to say) is still intact. For now.

When I used to run on a regular basis, I took joy in it. I would look forward to my daily run. I would spend time mapping out the route in my head just so that I could change up the scenery a little; maybe throw in a couple trails or a beach here and there. Now the scenery is the least of my concerns, and not because pit bulls chase me or school bus drivers decide my route needs to end at a particular street corner, and the ambulance can pick it from there. No. I can't take joy in my runs any more because I'm starting from square one again. As CGB does, I used to think during my runs. The daily run used to be quite a productive thinking time. Now, all that my brain in capable of cognating during a run is, "left, right, left, right. breathe. left... whoa there, watch out for that puddle. On second thought, never mind, just breathe. Shoes dry out, but that molecule of oxygen that's going by right now, you may never see him again. left, right." Therefore, I confess: I am out of shape. (However, I would just like to add here that although every guy may wish he was Tom Brady, I don’t know anyone, myself included, who would mysteriously wear a foot cast around the week before the Super Bowl, and then mysteriously botch the biggest game of the season. Way to go Tom.)

Consequently, my first goal on the road to sub-19-dom is to enjoy running once again. My plan is to run every day except Sunday until running is second nature once more; until I can run AND smell the proverbial roses (without stopping, of course). My teammates have a good two minute head start, and that's a lot of time to make up over the course of 3.1 miles. I’ve got some hewing to do before the fine carpentry. Thus, I run. (and for those of you who don’t know me, I am quite a bit less attractive than Suzanne Somers.)

My miles last week

I had planned to justify my inactivity on Monday and Tuesday on the ground that I worked 12 hours each of those days. Then I spoke with notsoflash, who has been logging miles after long days at work, strapping on a headlamp and running in the dark through several feet of snow. Now a long day of work alone seems an insufficient excuse. This is the place to mention that Gordon wrestles wolves with his bare hands. Also, while most men in the Boston area wish they were Tom Brady, Tom Brady wishes he were Gordon.

My interval distance -- 700 meters race pace, 350 meter recovery -- is strange, I know. There just happens to be a 700-meter track near my house.

Without further ado:
Sunday: 4k tempo
Wednesday morning: 5 miles training
Wednesday evening: 6 x 700, 350
Thursday: 5m training
Friday: 30m ride
Saturday: 6m training