The Sound of Silence

When I started running 18 months ago, it was on the treadmill at the gym and I absolutely required music to keep me entertained while staring down at gym rats (treadmills are on a second floor balcony over looking the ground level – which made it delightfully easy to people watch). My ipod was chuck-full of dance, current pop and country, and some random Jewish rabbi beats thrown in (Matiyshu – “Thunder”). Looking back on the first few months of running at the gym with music, it was not a pleasure trip; undoubtedly due more to the fact that I grew restless on the treadmill. I can only take so much running without scenery before my brain demands a squirrel or evil cat in a cornfield. Regardless, once I switched to running outside I never took my ipod with me and have run in silence ever since.

While I was cleaning out my car the other day (something had to die in there – it smells too wretched for anything to still be alive) I found my ipod and erased all my old songs and completely revamped my selections with 130 new songs. More excited than I ought to be out the situation, I wanted to try out my new music on my run this morning so I headed out today with music for the first time.

It was awesome.

I enjoyed Sugarland on the first loop, Mumford & Sons on the down hill, Rihanna on some flat stretches, and Chase & Status (feat. Liam Bailey) “Blind Faith” which has to be the best up hill song if I ever heard one. My usual 5.15 route felt significantly easier and I was positive that I was just freaking flying – though I checked my Garmin after the run and it pegged me at the same speed I usually complete the route in (unrelated note: my Garmin must be broken).

I kept the music low enough to hear if any oncoming SUVs were barreling towards me (they were suspiciously absent today) and I loved lip syncing along with the songs at 4:15 a.m. with no one around. The only issue I had was the absence of an appropriate armband, so I had to settle with putting the ipod on the inside of my pants – which of course resulted in the ipod slipping down further into my pants over and over again until I eventually just held the damn thing. The run ended going uphill with my fastest speed during the route and I felt fantastic.

So now I’m utterly confused. I sort of prided myself on not running with music and I still don’t want to run races with music, no matter the distance – what’s the compromise then? Should I run half my runs with music? I don’t want to become dependent on needing music to run, it’s just a nice addition to some of my runs. Thoughts?

The Friday Post

If you talk with the Alabaster Runner (I don't know how though - for reasons completely uknown, he completely shot down the idea of posting his cell phone number on here.....loser) he will confirm that I always secretly wanted to have a black toenail from running as some sort of "running badge" from the sport. It seemed to me that getting a black toenail from completing higher mileage was a rite of passage into "real" running, much like taking your first unexpected #2 on a long run behind a bush (I had a look out, but much more than that I wish I had brought toilet paper), or hitting 20 miles on a training run finally without dying on the side of a road somewhere. I briefly thought I was getting a black toenail during marathon training, but turns out I just need to be more diligent when wearing shower slippers at the gym locker room.
However, when looking up running injuries and coming across this image (warning - graphic) my oddball fantasy has completely dissipated and shriveled up into repulsion.

I mean.....is that normal for a runner's black toe or does this individual need to immediately confess all his sins and pray for swift death? I think I may have dodged a bullet here.



Cows go "mooooooooo"

I live outside the city of York, Pennsylvania in Hallam so I consider myself pretty fortunate to run mostly back country roads with minimal traffic and stunning views. The biggest advantage as an animal lover is that I get to see donkeys, horses, deer, cows, skunks, and birds of every color in the Spring/Summer, so no matter which way I run – I typically come across some animal that looks cute from afar (eh….maybe not so much the skunks, still trying to find their redeeming quality).

When I managed to crawl out of bed yesterday at 6:17 a.m., I was pretty pumped to run because the weather was gorgeous and I need time away from my beloved pug, who kept me up all night whining about only god knows what. I decided to run a 4.5 mile loop that is pretty hilly but doesn’t include any repeats so time seems to go a little faster on that route. The run itself was a little more difficult than anticipated – I was never able to quite catch my breath and the entire effort was far more labored than it should have been. However, my lack of appropriate breathing skills isn’t the point of the post (I'll save the gem of post for another day); when I was running I saw a small black kitten with intense green eyes staring at me from the cornfields. Its fur was as close to midnight in coloring as you could get and the kitten stared at me as I contemplated cat-napping him because he was so freaking adorable. I’m certain he models for CatFancy on his days off from randomly sitting in cornfields.

I slowed down passing him (slowing down from a 10+ m/m is pretty much walking I believe) and made that sound that cats actually pay attention to – the “pshhh pshhh” noise to signal to him that I’m clearly an awesome individual with only good intentions to adopt him and build him a little kitten castle. The motive wasn’t to pick him up or anything, just to get a better look – but this kitten quickly decided that not only was I out of shape (cats judge), but also that I wasn’t worth his time. He raised his paw to show me he meant business with sharp claws, and then proceeded to hiss at me twice until I moved on.

I’ve gotten the same reaction in the past when I tried to make friends with the horses and baby cows on my running routes (minus the sharp claws or else those would have been some some scary ass mutant horses and cows). Apparently my farm yard neighbors aren’t enthused that I’m running past their domain and want to eat their crappy grass in peace.

So I have decided to discontinue my foreign species peace efforts while I run and concentrate my animal affections on those that appreciate it – our pug, beagle, and boxer that eagerly wag their tails when they see me come back from a run all sweaty and gross looking. Besides, I’ve finally come to the conclusion that everyone else came to seemingly decades ago…..cats are jerkoffs.

I should be at the gym instead of typing this blog.

Without much forethought, me and the Alabaster Runner have signed up for the Spartan Sprint in Palmerton, PA on September 10th, 2011. We've done quite a few mud/obstacle runs, but something utterly disturbing about their websites' race description makes me think I might want to actually train for this event.

Just for good measure I'm throwing in more tricep exercises this summer.

Running Privacy Laws?

After almost 28 years on this green earth, I’m pretty secure with acceptable social standards of conduct – I say “God bless you” when someone sneezes and I don’t make a big deal if a coworker passes deadly gas in the same room. I silently die inside, but I don’t purchase a coffin.

However, there seems to be an entirely different code of social standards for runners – some are obvious and others must be dealt with on less secure footing. Whether you are a new runner or veteran, it is common sense to politely pass someone slower than you and not barrel past them. And if a runner is clearly struggling on the last leg of a marathon, you are supposed to shout out, “You’re doing good! Keep it up, only a few more miles to go, you can do it!” – when in reality you want to say, “In the name of everything holy, you look horrible man,, can I call you a taxi to take you to the hospital so I don’t feel guilty if you have a heart attack right in front of me? I don’t even know CPR.”

 But the runners’ etiquette that has always eluded me is if you can ask another runner their race times. I’m not referring to the runners who update their facebook status with “OH YEAH just did the half marathon in 1:30, its ice bath time baby!” (true status update of someone I know). Those are the beacon of light runners, who even in the fog of everyday conversation will somehow manage to tell you their race times – Oh, so you had a baby and PR-ed in the same week, wow……I’m going to just vomit over here now. I’m confused about the everyman runner who keeps their times to themselves, but made mention of a race earlier……so can I ask their time, or since they didn’t offer it – is that none of my business?

If I look at it from the runner’s standpoint, I feel that my times are open to discussion – they are listed on the race results page anyway. Clearly I can’t tell my friend that I ran the 5k in 23:32 when the website says 28:02. The jig is up.

 From the most logical view, it is a race after all; I participated in an athletic competition for a timed result. Whether I ran the race to beat my own previous time or the time of the 80 year old that I’m (fairly) certain I can pass – it is still timed for placing in a race. However I get the sense that some runners will openly share that they are racing, but never want to mention numbers afterwards. They will even remark about how their big toenail finally turned black and fell off (because that's what I want to hear about before I've had my Sheetz coffee in the morning) – yet they look completely taken aback when I ask about race times.

 It’s not that I want to know out of self indulgence in case I’m faster than you (that, um….hasn’t really happened) – I want to know because we talk about training, speed-work, hills, and everything else related to running – I am naturally curious how it all cumulated.

 I know we live in a very coddled society, where you aren’t really allowed to ask questions that might make someone feel anything less than great. But if I can put on my big girl pants and tell everyone about my 5:30 marathon time (I pathetically limped the last six miles, ah….the sweet memories….), then even if your time was not what you anticipated – you should feel that as part of the running community, we have all been in that boat before (with Jaws actively circling it). I rationalized that I couldn’t talk about my marathon for six months ahead of time, update those interested with training session chats, and take vacation time off work to run the race, then NOT give people the end of the “story”, even though it quite frankly sucked. Up until mile 20, I was on course for a 4:20 first marathon, so I had a hearty cry over my actual 5:30 finishing time. But that’s what happened and as a runner, I can openly share good and disappointing times with other runners without feeling judged.

 Am I wrong on this?

The snooze button won that battle

I take my morning routine preeeeetttttttyyyyy seriously - so much in fact that I'm in bed every night between 7 p.m. - 8 p.m. just so that I can wake up properly at 4 a.m. to workout/run the next day. I'm one of those individuals who requires a full eight hours of sleep or else small children scream when they see me the next day. Because I'm a beast when I don't get eight hours of sleep.......in case I didn't try hard enough to make that connection....yup.....(cough).

This routine isn't cool, hell - I'm not sure if it's even remotely normal - but it's my thang and I like it. I'm sorry I just typed "thang", I know better than that. Let's just get to the point of this post. It's sadly already past my self imposed bedtime.

My alarm went off every day this week at 4 a.m. and this is exactly what happened everyday at 4 a.m.

Nothing.

Unless you count my hand swatting my cell phone to snooze the alarm, not one thing happened. I DIDN'T put on my pink running shorts. I DIDN'T give my adrenline pumped-up pug a kong to shut up her while I ran. I DIDN'T slip on my Asics. And I DIDN'T run around my ridiciously hilly neighborhood.

Of course I regret being lazy and skipping my runs so I'm determined to run this weekend. Here's hoping it doesn't hit 90 degrees. I must live a mile from the sun.