Nothing says team spirit like an Etch-A-Sketch

This morning I got an e-mail from Jan, another runner in the training group. She'd gone and made an Etch-A-Sketch image of the group photo she took back in April.

I thought, "Aw, how sweet that she was thinking of the group." And I also thought, "Wow she's talented with that Etch-A-Sketch."

It's been over 10 weeks since I started the Reach the Beacon training, along with 20 or so others. In my less-than-optimistic mind, I expected at least half the group to drop out by week eight.

It's not that I didn't have faith in the group (I didn't) it's just inevitable that some people are going to lose motivation. Some will get sidetracked. And some will sell all their belongings in a two-day yard sale, shave their heads, ditch the mortgage and drive off to Mexico under the assumed name Poncho Arbol.

It happens.

But not this group. This group is sticking it out. This group says, "Sorry Mexico, you'll just have to wait."

In addition to the Etch-A-Sketch photo, Jan passed along some powerful words of wisdom:

I hope to make it to next weeks run and GLB for some carb loading. What can I say??? I'm a alcoholic with a running problem!!!

Running? Who cares! Keep talking about beer

And here I thought this blog might garner support for my efforts - a few words of encouragement or advice at the very least.

I even fancied I might inspire other Geary's-drinking, cross cut fries-eating, afternoon-napping non-runners to give it a shot.

But alas, I see what gets your attention:

See that spike in page views? That's from last Monday, when I announced the self-imposed beer moratorium.

It was a proclamation to be commended - a noble attempt to loosen the death-grip of another vice. People will surely back this moratorium, I thought, maybe even start a moratorium of their own.

It could be the start of a totally new movement - people giving things up for a period of time (say, 40 days) as evidence of their dedication. It'd be unlike anything ever done before. Can you imagine?

But encouragement I didn't get. No "way to go, Shan" or "You can do it." Instead, I got:

The other option is to switch to something less caloric....for example, a corona has 150 calories...a captain and diet coke, or a vodka soda has roughly 70 calories. You could have two and still not drink as many calories as were in the beer. :) Just a suggestion.

and

Coors Light = 105 calories per can... it's the beer when you're having, well, you know, several!!

and

what if you just work on your psychological outlook and convince yourself mentally that the beer, (being its own food group of course) and all those healthy, tasty and good for you treats (aka wings, nachos, fries) are REALLY building your strength

God forbid I was some raging alcoholic (or am I?) on the path to recovery.

Lesson learned: No one wants to read about running in a running blog. What was I thinking?

To be a champion, be the only one running

My friend Liz and I went out yesterday to shoot video of the Beach to Beacon course. We intended on biking the route with the camera somehow duct-taped to my bike - and no, I really don't think that would have worked.

As we drove along to scope out the course, I realized that 1) there's barely a bike lane most of the way (and I prefer not to have my brains knocked out of my skull by the windshield of a VW) and 2) the course is incredibly hilly. My quads trembled just looking at it.

Inevitably we drove the route - stopping a few times to throw in some entertaining commentary.

FYI, running while talking and drinking a beer is not easy.

It was worth it though, to get that rare feeling of actually "winning" the race. I've always wanted to be the finish line banner breaker, and since I was the only one running...

The awards ceremony was kind of a bust, though. I was presented with a "Good Eater Award." Not really what I was aiming for.

I think the disappointment is fairly evident in my expression.

The entire video should be edited and live this week.

Cotton is the devil

I'm hardly an expert on running gear. Or anything else, for that matter. But I do hear things and my ability to regurgitate information is working at a functional level.

I hear things like "cotton is the devil." It's not that cotton makes you do bad things ("Cotton once made me kill a man" or "The cotton talks to me at night and tells me to light fires"). It's just that for a runner, cotton sucks.

This blog entry by Peter Hadzipetros says it well:

Cotton holds in the sweat, keeps the moisture right next to your body. That's bad, whether the weather's warm or cold. Cotton's a recipe for pain that you will only discover later in the shower. Damp cotton rubbing against your skin means chafing.

Yeah - chafing. That's a bothersome issue. I went head to head with chafing last month - or should I say thigh to thigh. It'd been so long since I'd run in shorts I had forgotten what one sweaty patch of skin can do to another.

Chafing is a rascally sort of fellow - unobtrusive at first and then BAM! you find yourself running like a three-year-old who just wet himself.

Chafing takes days to heal, but Body Glide, I've discovered, can stave off the burning skin. It's like wearing a mouth guard when you and your friends play a rough round of human pinata - just a smart preventative measure.

And while preferences differ on the right running shoe, these probably aren't a good idea:

Which is why Anna and I were surprised to see two young guys running the Back Cove last night wearing shoes not unlike those pictured above. Had it been later in the summer, I could have passed it off as preparation for a college hazing event. They were otherwise dressed in appropriate running gear (shorts and t-shirts, at least) so the whole spectacle just didn't make sense.

It wasn't an isolated event, either. A few weeks ago we spotted the same guys running in similarly odd footwear.

I haven't any photos of the feet, but you can bet I'll be bringing my camera phone on next week's run.

Effective immediately: self-imposed beer moratorium

It's true. I'm tired of this half-hearted attempt to "Reach the Beacon." I haven't been serious about it. I do the group runs, but I'm still eating junk and drinking more than my share. The contradictions in my training are funny, to be sure, but wasn't I doing this for something other than entertainment value?

I recently checked in with my skinny jeans pile - you remember those pants I haven't worn in over a year, those pants that stare at me in such a patronizing way whenever I open my closet.

See the difference between all my jeans (left) and the three pairs still in regular rotation (right):

Really, I think the skinny pants are sad - never being unfolded, never seeing the light of day, never being worn but instead being cursed at and thrown around the room.

The good news is - after over eight weeks of training, I can now fit into...Oh, wait, NONE OF THEM!

How could that be? It doesn't make sense. Or maybe, all along, the beer has been quietly sabotaging my efforts.

Geary's isn't on the Beer100 calorie list, but I think we all get the idea. Beer = evil.

Course, it's not just the beer. It's the chicken finger, fries, nachos, etc. that beer just goes so well with.

So I'm committing to steer clear of beer (oooh, rhyming) until the Beach to Beacon on August 4th.

Geez - that's eight weeks smack dab in the middle of summer (prime beer garden season).

30 days sounds like a more reasonable goal.

Oh - that would include the Fourth of July.

How about: I commit to not drink beer until I deem it appropriate to drink beer again.

Another foolproof plan, Shannon.

Thanks Shannon, I try.

Blood, sweat and hills

The Thursday running group headed over to Baxter Woods yesterday to...well, run. It was a welcome break from the Back Cove which, as lovely as it is, was starting to get monotonous. That's what I thought, anyway, before the reality of running in the woods really set in.

Baxter Woods, off Stevens Ave., is a great place to walk (yourself or your dog) and it has within it's forested confines a looped trail that measures 1,000 yards (so I'm told). The entire loop is also on a slope, so either direction you go, one side will be up hill and one side will be down. And when I say hill, I mean HILL. An I-want-to-collapse-and-die kind of hill.

Those in the slower pace group (i.e., me) ran 800 of the 1,000 yards, then walked the final 200. Some did two laps, some three. A handful of us hearty folks stuck it out and did four.

The view wasn't too shabby and there's a distinctive coolness in the woods. There's also the distinctive presence of mosquitoes, who were no doubt overjoyed to see a herd of sweaty, barelegged runners traipsing through.

A tiny bite here, a tiny bite there. At least it was a distraction from the throbbing in my quads.

When we finally walked - I mean ran - out of there, I had keep pausing to either scratch something or rub off a clump of bug guts. You know, when you hit the mosquitoe just right and it's belly full of blood smears across your leg and you go "ewww" and look for a place to wipe it, but you're in Baxter Woods and it's not like you have a tissue with you so you resort to wiping it on your shorts, which is nearly just as gross. It happens. I'm just saying. Talk about running ugly.

It was a good change of pace - but don't attempt it without the bug spray.

Another Couch to Bacon update. Did I just say bacon? I meant chicken fingers.

My friend Victoria called me up yesterday wanting to go to the gym. After quickly talking her out of that, we agreed to meet up to "fast walk" the Back Cove. Which we did, kind of. We had the "walk" part down.

I won't even crack jokes about really, really wanting to run - but darn that bum leg.

It was a conscience restraint. My group run is tonight and if I've learned nothing else, it's to not overdo it.

Yes, yes. Laugh all you want. But it's a system that works for me. Two days in a row just doesn't work - if I ran yesterday I'd struggle today. And I don't want to struggle in front of the group (remember the "not-wanting-to-look-like-an-idiot" discussion we had at the beginning of this training?

Another lesson I learned? Even a saunter around Back Cove deserves a meaty reward.

Okay, okay - enough with the chicken! Back to the running tonight.

Why I'm running. Really.

I've been running from my ex...

He's gotten word I've moved to Portland and recently posted this craigslist message (he used to call me "Amy," though I never really knew why...).

Must. Run. Faster.

When God says "No," he means it

People don't always have the best decision-making abilities. That thing people call "will power"...well, I never got an ounce of it.

I'm not good at telling myself "No," and the slightest reference to food makes me hungry.

At the office, for example, a colleague might mention that he's having computer trouble, which is a problem. Having a problem makes me think of how people, if they're overly optimistic or a little passive, refer to a problem as being "in a pickle" (which makes me laugh, because "pickle" is a far cry from the language I use). And then of course the pickle makes me think of a sandwich - not just any sandwich but a chicken salad sandwich. And you can't eat a sandwich without chips - preferably Fritos - and hot damn I have $5.00 in my wallet right now.

But sometimes, even though it seems the world practically led me to my chicken salad sandwich destiny, a voice in my head reprimands me for not buying carrots instead.

And sometimes, God even intervenes, knocking the sandwich clear out of my hand.

There was nothing salvageable. Within 2 minutes I experienced every step in the grieving process, and with a tear in my eye I laid the destroyed mess to rest in a trash receptacle.

So long, good friend.

I'm not lazy, I'm resting

Hello. My name is Shannon. It's been one week since my last blog entry.

It's been a hard recovery from Memorial Day weekend - and I was more than a little worried that the Thursday night run wouldn't go so well. My last outdoor run was...well...a while ago (having missed last Thursday's group run and having spent much of the holiday weekend carb-loading [which is just a nice way of saying eating, drinking and eating]).

So it was with trepidation that I started last night's run around the Back Cove. And yes, this time we were going the ENTIRE WAY AROUND.

And holy crap - who'd have thunk it - I knocked this run to the ground. Anna and I kept a consistent pace the whole way and only took three - very brief - walking breaks.

I was dumbfounded at first. How could this be? I'm still doing so many things wrong - not runnning nearly as often as the schedule suggests, etc.

But then I remembered what John Rogers (owner of the Maine Running Company and the guy leading the training) said to us back in April. It was something like, "Nutrition is important... yadda, yadda, yadda...don't get dehydrated...yadda, yadda, yadda...DON'T TAKE YOUR REST DAYS FOR GRANTED."

Epiphany! I'm not being lazy, I'm appreciating my weekly rest days - all six of them.

All I'm saying is, if it works, don't mess with it.

On a side note, Maine Running Company was just ranked one of the 50 Best Running Stores in America, by Runner's World Magazine.

Not bad, I say. Not bad.