Team "He’s Touching Me" pre-race.
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Lara’s first pre-race pb sandwich. On our way to downtown. Be ready for anything.
I’ve done something to my left knee. Started on Tuesday. Ran through it on Wed. Got 1.25 miles in on Thursday before I stopped. I’m good for a few miles, then pain starts on the outside of my kneecap. A few more minutes go by and it radiates down to my feet and up to my hip. Could be ITB. Not sure. I do know that I’m shutting it down until at least Wednesday. Saturday was my 16 miler. Made it over the Brooklyn Bridge, and stopped to rest for a bit in Manhattan. Big mistake. I did do the entire length, but I walked quite a bit of the last half. Because I was walking, I got to overhear a couple of interesting conversations. Works best if you read them with a heavy Brooklyn accent. Two guys on a street corner somewhere near 3rd Ave. Two guys sitting on a stoop somewhere on Dean Street. Been reading a lot about ITB injuries. Everything about it is depressing. Difficult to treat, takes forever to recover… . If things aren’t better by Wed, I’m gonna try to get an appointment with a sports medicine doc. I gotta start writing these the day of or the day after. I can’t remember any details this far out. Anyway, here goes. —
Call around to a few places in the a.m. to try to get the car looked at. Turns out the good techs at the Nissan dealership in Bay Ridge decided to leave two bolts loose on the stabilizer. Does that mean anything to you? Me neither. All I can tell you is that it made one helluva clicking noise when breaking, and dealerships are a complete waste of money. Saturday – 15 miles – Johnstown to Broadalbin Overcast. Chance of rain but the radar looks clear for at least a few hours. Three pieces of bread with peanut butter, banana and a cup of tea. I’ll be running the ‘Rail Trail.’ Several local communities have gotten together, ripped up the railroad tracks that used to connect the towns and made a nice running/walking/biking route that runs from Fonda to Broadalbin. Catch the trail on Main Street in Johnstown. The backsides of old factories and large houses pop up between stretches of woods. It’s pretty tranquil here. Pretty deserted too. I go nearly 3 miles before I see anyone. Normally I wouldn’t think twice, but there have been instances of violence and unexplained disappearance on the trail. Jeeze. Who’da thought it’d be safer to run in Brooklyn? The pavement is close to new. No cracks or breaks, and mostly it’s free from litter. At one point I did see an old plastic swimming pool lying dead off to the side. Who goes through the trouble to cart something like that down here? As I say, there aren’t a lot of people using the trail. The folks I do pass are very friendly. They actually say “Hi” and “Good morning” and “Are those compression shorts? Can I see?” That type of stuff. Downstate you occasionally get acknowledgment with a weak hand raise or a Clint Eastwood nod. I’m on the trail till there’s no more trail. I’m still short of halfway, so I cross a busy-ish road and head up a quiet road that is lined with houses on one side. Up ahead a woman is chatting with her neighbors who are gardening. They all say “Hello” and I say “Hi.” I get to the end of this road and decide to double back since I don’t feel like running down the busy road to get back to the trail. On the way back, I pass nosey neighbor who has apparently caught me checking the Garmin. “What’s that? Checking your heart rate?” Nosey says. “Yeah,” says I. “I ran out of trail a while ago. Didn’t realize it ended back there!” I chuckle. Nosey laughs. “Hey, are those compression shorts?” That last part was made up, but you get my drift. If there’s one thing I hate more than being stabbed or forcefully abducted it’s being assaulted with kindness. 2 Gu’s today. One at mile 6 and the other at 11. I was kicking myself when I started out because I had forgotten to bring money for another bottle of water. Turns out I didn’t finish the bottle I brought. Which brings up a point. I weighed myself before and after the run. I had lost 1 pound. I’ve read that you want to try to not lose weight during. I’m wondering if I should be drinking more water? That said, a good solid run. I had wanted to stay in the 8:40/mile range, and I did a little bit better than that. The only caveat here is that this was a very flat course. Gotta get working on those hills.
It’s freakin’ April and it’s freakin’ cold! It finally gets above 45 degrees in the early afternoon, and I head out. Five minutes in. Ahead of me a car comes to a stop at a red light. The driver’s side door opens and the driver leans over and throws up. A lot. Real loud too. I was initially going to go over and ask if he needed help, but then I remember I don’t have my phone. And he’s being really dramatic and now the vomiting has turned into a show which annoys me, so I keep running. I stop a little ways up the block to get my stretching in and I see that he’s four or five blocks down the road, only this time he’s pulled off to the side of the road with the door wide open. Into the wind all the way to the Slope today. Gusting up 30 mph according to weatherunderground. Hard to breathe. The only positive is that runs like this build lung capacity. All I know is that it’s hard to catch a good breath. It’s Easter Sunday and the roads aren’t as busy as usual. Probably most folks are already having dinner or vomiting with their loved ones. Costco is closed today. White Castle and KFC are open, as is the live poultry place, door open, feathers flyin’. To the left of the front door, their window is painted. “Lamb, chicken, duck, rabbit, turkey and more!” I wonder what the “and more” is and why they are so excited about it? If a place is willing to slaughter and clean a bunny for you for $10, I’m thinking $50 gets you a whooole lot more.
Took the car in on Tuesday. I’m on the phone with the guy from the garage. He says it needs new front/back breaks and rotors and a new stabilizer. That requires a wheel alignment. And hell while we’re at it, may as well do the 60,000 mile checkup. What do you call that instant where the words the person is speaking turn into the muted-trumpet sounds the adults make in the Peanut cartoons? I’m there. And while I’m pissing money, I still have to find a hotel room in Lake Placid. On Sunday, May 24th I will be running a leg of the Buffalo Marathon. It’s a 4-person relay. Let’s meet team “He’s Touching Me” :  Lara  Kevin  Dan  Me This will be Lara’s first running event. I believe this is also Dan’s first. Kevin has run the Buffalo Half before. This will be my third Buffalo run. I’m due to run a 20 miler that weekend, so I think I’ll run three legs and call that my 20. That’ll actually work out great. Lots of water, spectators, and free beer afterward. Last weekend was the second annual Prep Ho Half Marathon. Bay Ridge to Park Slope and back. If you’d like to see it all in detail, it’s right here. Lara got me a Garmin 405 for my birthday. I’ve been using it for the past 7 weeks. It spits an incredible amound of info at you (speed, heart rate, elevation etc…). I could bore you to shit by posting my Garmin stats and charts of my heart rate, but I promise I won’t. Anyway, incredibly nice weather. I overheard a couple of young kids as I was making my way around the north end of the park. “This is like the perfect day,” one kid says. The compression shorts worked out well. The same company (Under Armour) also makes a compression shirt, but I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet. Little bit of pain in the right leg, but nowhere near as bad as it was. I’ve started to do my stretching after the beginning of my run. Typically I’ll run for 3 or 4 minutes, then stop and stretch. It’s a drag stretching outside. Inevitably it’s always cold, and inevitably my hand lands inches away from a pile of dog crap. I’ve had it happen twice now. You’d think I’d survey the area better before I make my stretching mini-camp. Betcha Jack LaLanne never has to worry about such foolishness.
Let me say that again; I ate a quarter of a two layer yellow cake. I may need to do 10+ tomorrow.
Greetings and welcome back all. It’s been a while, so I’ll get you caught up. I’m in training for the Lake Placid Marathon to be held on June 14th. This course will be different from New York in a couple of big ways. It’s a loop course. All that means is once around for half marathon, two times for the full. Kind of a drag, but as most of you know, that area is heaven on earth. There’ll be plenty of interesting things to see. The course starts on Main Street, runs through the village, circles Mirror Lake, back south past the ski jumps, then out River Road (I’m guessing that’s by a river) and back. The biggest challenge will be the hills. Remember all of my bitching about the hills at the NYC Marathon? Yeah, those weren’t hills. These are hills. By far the coolest part is the finish. The run ends at the Olympic Speedskating Oval. Same place where Eric Heiden won his 5 goal medals back in 1980. Back then I was 7 years old and in Mrs. Failing’s third grade class at Glebe Street School. I was a really good student. I was a very shy kid, never any trouble, and my grades were always great. I remember a few things about Mrs. Failing. She was unbelievably old, she was constantly miserable, constantly screaming, and she loved me. One day she was walking through the class handing back a test that we had taken. She gets to me, holds my paper up for the class to see and says, “But Kevin got the highest score- 100 percent! That’s an Eric Heiden effort!” Jesus. Shoot me now, why don’t you. It’s a wonder I didn’t get my ass kicked daily. Mrs. Failing’s husband was afraid of heights. Any work around the house higher than arm’s length, she would take care of it. I once rode my bike past her house and saw her perched on the top of an extension ladder, paintbrush in hand, touching up the trim. I wonder what it would have been like to run over, kick that ladder out from under her and run away really fast. You know… Eric Heiden fast. Today marks the start of week 8 in the training schedule. I’m finding that after 4 or 5 miles, I get a nasty pain in my right hip. I’m almost certain it’s because my shoes are worn. Did the calculation the other day, and I have @ 360 miles on these. Ordered a new pair. Should be here tomorrow. Also ordered a pair of Under Armour Compression Shorts. “Kev,” you’re thinking, “aren’t those a little… form fitting?” Yes. Yes they are. I believe the idea is to wear a pair of running shorts on top of these guys. At least that’s my plan. ‘Cause no one needs to see that much. Even if I was Brad Pitt or Brian Williams, I wouldn’t wear something that revealing. But hey, who says they’re too tight? It’s similar to what the speed skaters wear. I’m rereading this post before I press ‘publish.’ Jeeze. This kid has an awfully hard life! It’s not that bad, but it is a little on the syrupy side. I’m aware. Just warning you. —————————-
Looking back, that’s a tall, tall order. The thing that weighs most on my mind these days is the fact that I’m in the midst of trying a career shakeup. For better or worse, it’s got to happen. It’s uncomfortable, it’s uncertain. On any given day I feel not smart enough, not educated enough, too old, too inexperienced. That certainty of knowing where the run begins and where it ends? I want that kind of certainty during this change. But that’s silly because the word ‘different’ is in every definition of the word ‘change.’ No one can be familiar or certain with something that’s different, can they? But now that I think of it, after a while you do eventually get your transformation. ‘Different’ softens into ‘familiar’, ‘uncertain’ can resolve into ‘old-hat.’ Along those same lines, here’s something else. Tearing yourself down physically won’t tear down barriers you’ve built in your mind (self-loathing, depression etc…). It can make you feel better, but to attain total health, there’s work to be done elsewhere. That takes more time than any four hour race. Goddamn! They should give me a goddamn talk show, goddammit! That’s some Dr. Phil shit right up there! In fact, how about a picture to mark this occasion? All right, enough mirror gazing. [paul lynde voice] Let’s get happy, people! [end paul lynde voice] Here is some loose change: 1) I’ve never experienced a ‘runner’s high.’ As for running, I told Lara that I can’t imagine doing these long runs (10+ miles) without having something to shoot for. I will keep running to keep in shape, and when the next race comes along, I’ll start another training schedule. Not sure when that will be. Gonna lay low for the winter months, keep in shape with some short runs and look for something in the spring. Buffalo is at the end of May. I’d like to do that in some capacity: marathon, half, relay (hint, hint)? I’d love to try the Lake Placid Marathon. And you? Why I think I’ll miss you most of all, loyal Prep H reader. Thanks for the comments, the encouragement and the kick in the ass when I needed it (although the death threats were uncalled for, Chris). I’ve always said that this blog is 10% running, 90% horsing around. I’m going to stick to that plan for the future. Not sure how often I’ll write, but if you’d like to be notified of updates you can subscribe at the link on the top of the homepage. Enter your email address and you’re all set. And hey, if you get tired of the endless foul-mouthed-Grandma jokes or the graphic foot injury photos, you can unsubscribe at that link too.
Pre race Alarm at 4:00. Up at 4:15. It’s not nearly as cold as I thought it would be. I normally just do the pbj and water before a long run, but it’s six hours till I go, so I guess I should eat something. Make a cup of tea, grab a banana, glass of water and a bottle of gatorade and head to the basement. While I check my mail, I see that while Nick was wishing me well yesterday, I was blowing off his birthday. Sorry about that, Nick. Check one of my favorite blogs, and see that there’s a shout-out from Dan. Awww… LOVE this tune. LOVE David Gilmour. Grab a nail clipper and check the critical toe nail length while listening to “Run Like Hell.” Checking the weather online. It’s a not-bad 42 degrees at the Fort right now, but the temp is supposed to keep dropping until 7:00 and then head back up. It looks like the start temp should be around 45 degrees. Bought a sweater for $4.99, a red, long sleeve cotton shirt for $2.99 and a $1.99 knit hat. Those along with some other rarely worn stuff laying around the house should keep me warm at the fort.
It’s about 6:00. Lara is up now. She’s going to drive me to the ferry. If there’s no traffic, I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Going to leave @ 6:45. I’m scheduled to get the 8:00 ferry, but I want to try to catch an earlier one just so I can get there and get situated. Now it’s @6:15 and Matt and Genine are up to see me off.
6:50 and we’re in the car. The BQE is not busy at all. Hit the Battery Tunnel in what seems like 5 minutes.
Off the shuttle, a long line of port-o-potties (which from now on will be referred to as POPs) before me. I make POP visit #1, just to be on the safe side. I had heard stories of people waiting in line for an hour to use POPs. No lines no waiting here.
Just around the corner, there is a huge log jam of people. This is the check point that gets you into the village. Have to show your race number and display your bag. Only the clear plastic bags are let in. Any others must be left outside. There are three start areas that correspond to the color (green, blue and orange) on your race number. I head to the orange area. I don’t see a whole lot written in different languages, but everything is really well color coded. To get to the orange village, you follow the orange balloons.
 I’m in the orange village. It’s pretty big and pretty crowded. I walk further toward the bridge and it’s even more crowded. Chilly wind blowing. I head over to a UPS truck and sit on the ground near the side of it. I’m on the pavement, but at least I’m kind of out of the wind. Announcements are being played in many languages. At 8:20, the wave 1 corrals are open. I’ve got a while to go, so I drink a little water and have some pretzels and watch other folks to see what the hell I should be doing. There are several guys slathering their legs with something. Couldn’t possibly be Body Glide. It’s some kind of lotion. Now that I think of it, I guess it could be sunscreen. Back home, I put some sunscreen on my ears and nose so I think I’m ok. I’ve brought a Yankee hat that I’ve worn for every race I’ve ever done. I don’t have a lot of speed or form, but what I do have is an unhealthy belief in superstition.  I wanted to try one of those fancy runners hats that are light weight and kinda mesh-like on the top, but I don’t dare.
A couple of guys who were dressing near me ask if I would take their picture. I snap a couple and they wish me good luck. I wish them the same. 9:20. One hour to go. It’s time to start getting ready. I don’t have that much to do, but I do have to pin my number on. This gets tricky for me because when I get cold, my hands shake badly. Lara had to help me pin my number on in Albany last year. Get it on and decide to try POP stop #2. Grab my bag and head over. In line for not more than 10 minutes. So far the POP situation has been a breeze.
It’s 9:40 and a small cheer goes up from down the hill. I look up and can just see the tops of runner’s heads making their way across the bridge. Wave 2 corral is loading. 40 minutes to go. For the first time I’m feeling my bruised toe. The adjacent toe is rubbing into it wrong and there’s pressure on it. Take off my right sock and re-apply body glide between all toes. I hear the announcement that the wave 2 corral is closed and wave 3 will start shortly. Look in my bag and start doing a check for the stuff I need to take. Not much really: 5 Gu packets, 2 Tylenol, phone and armband, hat, water. Everything else stays. 10:00 and wave 2 is off. Another cheer goes up. An announcement over the loudspeaker that the wave 3 corrals are now open. Decide that I need to make POP stop #3. In fact I don’t decide, I’m commanded to (if you know what I mean). It must be nerves because I went before I left the house. That’s why I get up so damn early. At least this ensures no ‘Walgreens Incident.’
A little trouble finding my corral. By the time I get here, it’s 10:10 Snap one last pic before we start. I show my number again to get in. It’s very crowded and we’re moving very slowly. A bunch of folks start moooing and there is laughter. Stand around for a bit more. Volunteers start moving us up the ramps.
The cannon fires.
race I’ve been working real hard, trying to get my hands clean.
Jeeze. I’m halfway through writing this novel, and I haven’t even mentioned the ankle. You will remember that for the last month or so, my left ankle has been kind of painful. I did a final 1.5 mile run Friday and it was absolutely *perfect.* Not a hint of pain. Didn’t want to mention it in case it would jinx me. Well, I didn’t mention it to anyone, but wouldn’t you know it? I woke up Sunday and it hurt just getting up out of bed. What the hell?? Thankfully the center of the bridge is level and if I can stay on level ground, it’s not so bad. Top of the bridge. The entire borough of Brooklyn is laid out in front of me, Manhattan on the left. Way off to the right is the Parachute Drop at Coney Island. It’s damn windy. I press my hat down a little bit tighter on my head. Would suck for it to blow off and have to run 25 miles with no shade. Start the descent. Some folks really let it rip on the downhills. I guess maybe to make up for slowing down on the uphill.
At 77th street I see Mark, Sam and Jake on the right side of the ave. Move closer to the left so that I can (hopefully) dump the shirt and gloves off to Lar on 72nd. People yell encouragement but when you get closer to the side of the roads, they really go crazy yelling for you. I see Genine and Lara. I don’t see Matt. I find out later that he was a little ways ahead of them snapping pics. The toss goes well and I’m off.
Through Carroll Gardens and into Boerum Hill. Hit mile 9 and have an Orange Gu. I’ve only been drinking my water. I’m going to start hitting the Gatorade soon. I don’t have a plan for this. I just figure I’ll alternate between water and Gatorade from now on. Feeling pretty good right now. I pass the infamous Bishop Loughlin High School marching band. A little further up, a sound system is blaring “Y.M.C.A.” and all runners do the moves as we run past. I always do the damn ‘C’ backwards! Everyone else does it the other way! Am I an idiot? We’re passing through one of the Jewish neighborhoods of Brooklyn. On the right, there are about 40 Hassid kids standing near the fence of a school. I guess they’re here to cheer the runners, but every one of them looks absolutely miserable. It may as well be a funeral procession passing. Something else happens not long after. Ahead of me, I see an older man jog to the left side of the road and collapse into the arms of a spectator. The guy holding him up clearly doesn’t know him, and some other folks are walking over to help. Nearing the halfway point now. These past 4 months, I’ve been reluctant to say what my goal time was going to be. At first I wanted to just finish. That turned into wanting to finish under 5 hours. When I saw training was going ok, that turned into 4:30 (4 hours, 30 minutes). The last few weeks, I set my sights on being under a 10 minute mile pace. That puts the finish time at 4:20. Before I left the house, I printed out two paper bracelets that I’m wearing on my left wrist. Each one has a list of timing splits for each mile of the race, so when I pass a mile marker I can check the time on my printout with the race clock on the side of the road. One is a printout for a 4 hour, 20 minute finish. The other is for a 4 hour finish (9 minutes per mile). I get to the 13.1 mile mark and check my time. I’m at 1:59:29. Under 2 hours but just barely. Fuck it. I grab the 4:20 bracelet, rip it off and throw it away. 4 hours it is. The strength of a thousand Stallone movies rushes over me. Hey! I just showed that paper bracelet who’s boss! Remember that stuff I wrote about Stallone? Yeah, well that rush comes and goes real quick. Remember what I said about being superstitious? I immediately realize that with that pseudo-macho display, I’ve completely blown my chances of a 4 hour finish. For a split second, I think about going back to get the bracelet. I shit you not. Mile 14 and my ankle is hurting now. So much so that I dig out my Tylenol (being careful not to drop my Gu packets) and take them. Use up the rest of my water and toss the bottle. Two free hands at last. Approaching the Queensboro (59th Street) Bridge. Another big hill coming. Start on and the wind picks up again. An older guy comes up on my left. He has a rather long grey beard. “My beard used to be that color,” he says and points to mine. I laugh and say, “Hey, I’m gettin’ there,” pointing to the grey in my own beard. “This is what 4 kids and working all the time will do to ya,” he says. We both laugh and then that fuckin’ old guy proceeds to SMOKE me going up the Queensboro Bridge. Ran ahead of me and I never saw him again. Fantastic. I got my ass handed to me by Gabby Hayes. Lots of people run with friends or make small talk with passing runners during the race. The bridge is very quiet. All of that chit chat is gone. I get the sense that the miles are sinking in for everyone. Start the decent and pass mile 16. I haven’t thought about how much longer I have to go. The past 2.5 hours have gone by really fast. I think it’s for two main reasons. First, there’s so much to see. Second, there’s a lot of energy in the air from the spectators, from the runners, from this city, from this race. So many moments have happened right here. You soak it up. At some point the rush of the wind and the grind of the subway breaks is overtaken by the sound of the crowd on 1st ave. Back in the day, we used to take the subway in to have brunch at some of these Irish pubs. The crowds are lively, but not as crazy as Brooklyn was. A band on the sidewalk is playing “Baba O’Riley” by The Who and the singer is really good! I flash the horns and he waves back at me. Nearing the end of 1st ave and getting ready to take the Willis Ave bridge into the Bronx and mile 20. Isn’t any of this damn race downhill!?! Goddamn!!! And by the way, that Tylenol should start to kick in any time now. A DJ is spinning some hip-hop on the right side. He’s reading people’s names over the beats. Very cool. Hardly any spectators here. Can you blame ‘em? It’s the Bronx. There’s a reason why the route only spends 1 mile in this borough. ‘The Wall’ is bad enough without having to endure it in the Bronx. On the Madison Avenue bridge that leads back into Manhattan. This bridge isn’t nearly as elevated as the other bridges, so it’s not as bad. Off the bridge and passing mile 21. Uncharted territory here. I had a Gu @ mile 17, so I should be good for a while. Up ahead I hear the crowd on 5 ave. Left turn and wow. Back in the land of the living. Lots of “Go, Kevin”, “Looking good, Kevin”, “Show me that sweet, sweet ass, Kevin.” Just wanted to see if you were still paying attention. It’s a nearly straight shot down 5th ave to 86th street. Around mile 22, things start to get interesting. My vision starts to dart a little. I’m having trouble focusing on the road. Not actually seeing it, but maintaining any kind of concentration. There’s a water station coming up, so I grab a Gu. I’ve been careful to conserve because this is my last one. But since things are looking a little…not right… right now, I’m gonna go ahead and use it. Now I’m concerned about where the park starts. I pass 125th street. Damn, I thought the north end of the park was 125th street. It’s 110th street, just so you know. Get to 110th and the further south I go, the crowds get bigger and louder… and closer. It’s getting pretty narrow in spots. The sun is overhead and in front of me and it’s screwing with my vision. Near the water stations, the glare of the sun off the water is just as bad. I turn my hat around so that the brim shields my eyes, but when I do, I get really warm. Near the water stations, the glare of the sun off the water on the road is just as bad. I spend the length of 5th ave turning my hat forward and backward trying to find some comfort. It’s not working, but I’m out of Gu. It’s gonna sound weird, but I feel confused. ‘Squirrelly’ is the word that comes to mind. It’s a little freaky because this isn’t physical pain. But I’ll be damned if I’m stopping to walk here. Not when I’m so close. I decide to concentrate on the road and try to look straight ahead. Just got to hold it together for a little while longer. Less than a half hour and it’s done.
Passing runners who are stopping to stretch. Wha?? Seriously? Dude, you’re 500 yards from the finish! As I near, there are huge orange banners with white writing. 400 yards… 300… 200… 100… I cross the finish, but everyone is told to keep moving. Past the Brightroom picture walls. I shoulda had them snap my pic, but I was too busy trying to settle down. Walk a little further and a volunteer wraps a heat blanket around me. Another comes over and tapes it shut. I’m not so much walking though, it’s more like shuffling. When I first stopped running and walked into the crowd I felt like I was going to fall over. Not too bad now. Move a little to the left and I’m handed a medal. A little further up, a volunteer hands me a plastic bag with food and drink in it. I crack the bottle of Gatorade and take a bite of the crappiest bagel I’ve ever had in years. It’s NYC and this is the best they could do? Boooo! That said, the McIntosh apple was excellent, as was the bag of Emerald Trail Mix. Yum yum. There is a massive crowd of runners, and the first exit is at 77th street, so I’m gonna be here a while. Further up the path are the UPS trucks that have the checked bags. I didn’t check my bag, so it would be nice if there was a bypass out of the park for people that don’t need to get stuff from UPS. This is by far the worst part of the marathon experience. It’s too crowded to move away from the trucks and there’s no room to find an area to stretch.
Finish time: 04:09:53. And that’s my first marathon. Special thanks to Lara, Matt and Genine for following me all over NYC. Here is the Flickr link to all of Matt’s pics from the day. What does Kevhodge do after a grueling race? Refuel and replenish, of course. Every athlete is different, but here’s what I do:
Oh and just one more thing… Ooops… One more one more thing…
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Put on all layers. 5 on top, shorts and sweat pants for my legs. My knit hat is very cheap, but stylin’. I kinda wish I didn’t have to lose it. The idea here is that these layers are to stay warm at the fort because it’s all exposed area out there. Just before loading into the corrals, I’ll leave them. The clothes that are left are donated to needy organizations.
“Prove It All Night” – Bruce Springsteen
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