Preparation H

I’m a little late getting out this morning. Know why? Cause I stayed up watching hurricane coverage. I love love LOVE hurricane coverage. What’s to love? I love seeing the correspondents standing (or trying to stand) in 85 mph winds while getting pelted with rain which at that speed must feel like needles against their skin. Why watch you say? Someday, some fine day, I hope to see one of these dicks get beaned with a flying piece of metal that’s why.

And now on with the running…

Saturday – 16 miles planned. The route will be the same as last week, but I’ll extend the end of the run to get my extra mile in.

Wake at 6:15. I felt pretty good, so I’m doing the same breakfast as last week (pb&j, water, Gu). Load up and head out the door. Won’t get far without water. Head back to the house to get the water bottle. Now I’m really ready.

It rained last night and the streets/sidewalks are all still wet. A couple years ago I hurt my foot slipping on some wet leaves and sticks, so I really hate running when it’s wet out. Speaking of, with about 1/2 mile left on my 8 mile run on Wednesday, my right hamstring started hurting badly. I limped in and the walk home was tough. I’m going to keep an eye on that today, shorten my stride a little and slow my pace a little. I’m aiming for racing pace today. Trying to keep things as fluid and controlled for as long as I can. When I start to get tired, I begin to lean. A little forward here, then maybe sitting back a little. It just makes me have to strain more, so I’m going to watch that too.

53rd & 3rd – Although it’s only a little bit later than last week, there is more activity. More people, more vehicles. Maybe it’s because it’s a Saturday as opposed to a Sunday. I’m sticking to the sidewalks because they’re wide pretty much all the way to the park. Up ahead I see a bunch of bread pallets stacked in the middle of the sidewalk. There’s nothing like the smell of freshly baked bread. No one is around. They must have dropped them off before the store opened. As I pass, frantic clucking and wing flapping scares the crap out of me. And btw, that’s not the smell of fresh bread. That’s the smell of several dozen live chickens in those pallets.

That really scared me. I hope those chickens die! Oh wait… .

On 5th Ave now. The infamous Greenwood Cemetery. I give the finger as I pass by.

Inside the park now, and there are signs that say there’s a “high speed bike race” in progress. (As opposed to the “slow speed bike race?” Whatever.) I’ve been here for over 5 minutes and I haven’t seen any bikes which is kind of weird. All of a sudden over my right shoulder I hear someone yelling “Go go go!!” Before I can turn to look, what seems like a hundred bikes fly by. They’re *really* bunched together. In another mile or so, I find out that that was the final lap. I wonder how they’ll be able to pick out a winner with everyone bunched together like that? I didn’t see any chip mats.

Second lap around, north west end of the park. Two women are up ahead of me. One is running, the other is on a bike next to her. We pass an entrance across from the bike lanes and the husband of the woman running is walking with their two kids. The husband starts waiving and yelling at his wife to cheer her on. This makes his 4 year old so excited, he decides he wants to run with mommy. He takes off running across the bike lanes and nearly gets creamed by one of those stray “high speed bikes.” Jesus.

Out of the park for the trip home now. Pass Van Gogh Moving And Storage. I just got the pun, btw. Every once in a while, my left achilles starts to ache. So does the right hamstring. Thankfully, they both come and go.

Can we talk about nipple abrasions? These technical shirts are great, but I’ve never had pain like this with a regular cotton shirt. I’ve been using a Body Glide knock off, but today it wasn’t enough. I slap on a band aid while I run, but it falls off because of the sweat. Maybe one of these? Of course the other option is to lose the shirt. That’s the subject of another blog entry.

Van Gogh is across the street from the place with the live chickens. I pass the poultry place and look in. Chickens and ducks are stacked floor to ceiling. And just down the street (same block, mind you) from the poultry place? You guessed it. A strip bar.

“What’s that hideous smell, honey?”

“It’s either the poultry market or the strip bar.”

Last week I only listened to my mp3 player for the last 2 miles of the run. This week is the same. Having stuff to look at and keep my interest has made me not need it. Toward the end I start running out of gas, so I put it on.

All in all, another good run. Very good pace (for me). If I could do this on the 2nd, I’d be more than happy.

I’m starting to wonder whether I need new shoes. I was kind of hoping to use these all the way through, but the heels are getting worn. I also wonder if a new pair would help with the achilles twinges I’ve been feeling.

Oh and one last thing. I will on occasion watch the team-hunts-a-ghost shows. I don’t discount the possibility of ghosts, but what the fuck is up with orbs? (Do you see those two faint circles of light above the cat?) That’s supposed to be proof of spirit activity? Looks more like proof your house is dirty.