New Year Reset

Last year, my first post of 2008 featured a few lovely ladies and their artfully painted dairy airs derrieres, which may or may not be NSFW. However, during the year, I have come to realize that most of my readers -- at least most of those who comment -- are women. So, I'm doing something different for 2009.

Gentlemen, I apologize. Refer to the link above. Ladies, I give you this: a nice, big, red cock!

Little Jerry Seinfeld, is that you?

Cockadoodle do! Welcome to 2009!

It feels like ages since my last post, which was a bit lean on the details of my finally reaching 1,000 miles, on the nose and not one inch more.

Tuesday night, I ran a comfortable seven miles and felt confident about finishing the year with an eight-miler on Wednesday. While I was sleeping, however, the Cold Miser reared his icicley head and dropped a shock-and-awing three inches of snow.

Tuesday was mild and there wasn't a speck of snow on the ground, nor a hint of snow-to-be when I went to bed. Then, P00F! Hello, snow! Not the worst I've seen, but a surprise nonetheless. The quick change in weather made for a slushy undercoating to the powdery snow cover on New Year's Eve. Good thing I got those YakTrax.


I was blazing a trail for the first mile, but then I discovered I wasn't the only asshole out there as I passed another runner going the opposite way, then several walkers with their dogs, and even a bicyclist who was just starting out when I was finishing.

My beard was full of icicles at the end, and I hoped it wasn't frozen snot. But it felt good to achieve one last goal to finish 2008 for a solid 50 percent on the year's scorecard. Now, I guess it's time to map out 2009.

However, I have no New Year's resolutions to post. I have no goals set for the year. In fact, I haven't run a single step this year. Ever since 2008 ended, I've been hibernating. (And Johnnie Walker-ing and Korbel-ing and ouzo-ing and Riesling-ing and brandy-ing ... and so on.)

2009 has been great so far!

Flashback Friday: 2008 Best Guest Appearances

Here you have the first of maybe only one pre-written post while the Viper is on holiday.

* * *

Now, I know, dear readers, you all love visiting Team HQ to read about the Viper's travails of the running and boozing variety. However, a few times this year you could find me elsewhere on the superwebs. I give you, the Viper's Best Guest Appearances of 2008.

The Runners' Lounge requested an exclusive interview with me after I ran two marathons. Learn how I got my moniker and find out just how serious I am about this whole running and drinking thing.

Xenia paid homage to me by casting my likeness in her epic blog series The Wizards of Blogland. You can read the first segment of the story, but it doesn't really start to get interesting until Part 2.

You've never seen post-race photos of me? Why, then you haven't checked out the erratic epicurean, who snapped this candid shot of me after the Akron Marathon with my recovery beverage.

Ms. V also has a photo of me--in spirit.

This isn't really a guest appearance, but Marcy wrote about her screw shoes experiment and flavored contraceptives, my comment to which then inspired joyRuN to admit to having a "blogfatuation" with me, and then MCM Mama and Sarah admitted to similar feelings in joyRuN's comments. It's a tough job being so adored.

Back Talk
Wherein I lazily respond to your pedestrian comments of the week.

Carolina John says my 32 miles last week puts me in good shape to reach my mileage goal this year: "Now if you can just pull together a couple of 33-mile weeks, you'll have your 1,000 on the year. It's amazing to be that close, dude!"

Answer: Two 33-mile weeks in a row? Are you mad?!? I only need four miles per day (or two 28-mile weeks, plus 12 miles in the final three days of 2008).

Blyfinn was as disgusted as I was when Vanilla said eating his hat was just an expression: "I don't know where this whole 'just an expression' is coming from. What happened to the time when you could take a man for his word?"

Answer: Next thing you know people will start doubting the photographic proof that he did indeed take a bite from his favorite hat.

P.O.M. misread when I wrote "holiday-related consumption": "At first glance I thought you said, 'holiday-related constipation.'"

Answer: Actually, I might have the opposite problem.

Happy Hour is nearly upon us! Well, upon you. I've been happy all day. Have a fine weekend, and if this is my last post until next year, enjoy your holidays and happy New Year! Run well and drink well, teammates. Cheers!

Just to Reiterate

I had a plan to run 32 miles last week. A certain reader said he'd eat his hat if I ran that far. I ran that far. This is not the first time I've been challenged and won. Victory rules.

It didn't come easy. I ran every day from Tuesday to Saturday, two consecutive days of seven miles, a four-miler, a six-miler and finally an eight-miler.

I haven't broken 30 miles in a week since the week of the Akron Marathon. Last week's tally was just two miles shy of my highest weekly mileage this year (34 miles).

I celebrated my diligence this weekend with two parties, imbibing as much of the holiday spirit as my palate could withstand.

Mile Tracker 1,000: Still 66 miles to go.

I Rule!

By now the news has spread throughout the running world. Viper is king of the mountain. Again. Balance has been restored to the galaxy.

I know you've all felt a bit off kilter since May, when Vanilla trumped my 10K PR at the Bolder Boulder. Until then I owned the best times -- between us anyway, but who else matters? -- in all four major race distances, the 5K, 10K, half marathon and marathon.

Who knows what would have happened if he had two-upped me by beating my half-marathon PR as well? Your head probably would have exploded at such absurdity.

Wasn't it nice when that wave of relief spread over you on Saturday at around 9 a.m. Eastern Time? (That's GMT -4:00 for you international folks.) Didn't you just feel that something was right with the world? Vanilla must have sensed that it was over before he even started his race. At least his quads had some feeling of doom. (I'm sure it had nothing to do with the elevation.)

Now, it's all over but the crying. Vanilla's crying, that is.

I love the smell of victory in the morning. And most other times as well.

Of Disappointing PRs
It is a perverse feeling to do the best you've ever done and feel let down by your performance. Vanilla said he was disappointed after his half marathon this weekend, a race in which he crushed his previous PR by almost three minutes. I've felt similarly deflated after many of my races. And I'm sure we're not alone, because otherwise that would be awkward.

All the great comments in response to Vanilla's perceived failure have the same tone of "enjoy it." My guess is that many of us said that because we didn't enjoy it at one point or another. The "not good enough" aspect certainly helps motivate us to do better next time, but we shouldn't let it get in the way of appreciating an accomplishment.

It is a matter of pride. We let our own egos get in the way of a good day. Goals, personal challenges and competitiveness can ruin a good performance when it doesn't match our expectations. For that reason, I try to remember this TV quote:

"Achievement is its own reward. Pride obscures it."
-- Major Garland Briggs, Twin Peaks

Races are like mirrors. You look better in some and worse in others, but it's always a reflection of you. Sometimes, though, you can blame the lighting.

Thanks for the competition, Vanilla. You ran a great race on a tough course, and you helped inspire me to run my best. Consider this a virtual handshake.

Payback Is a Bitch

I usually just tally all my running mileage over on page-right, in the space cleverly titled "Mileage." I do this so I don't bore you with drab posts about my mileage like some bloggers. However, this is for Vanilla.

June total: 108 miles
LSD: 72.3 miles (longest 26.34; combined pace: 12:00)
Intervals: 9 miles (combined pace: 9:10)
Tempos: 6 miles (pace: 9:20)
Easy: 8.5 miles (pace: 10:00)
Recovery: 12 miles (pace: 9:57)

For those scoring at home, that's Viper 108 vs. Vanilla 53. In fine half-assed fashion, Vanilla ran almost half my mileage last month. I ran almost half his in one day. Who's the lazy-ass slacker now? Granted, I have to give props for the more than half-fast pacing. Cheers to you!

Why My Marathon Training Stories Are Interesting


[Drunkard's note: Go thank Sarah for making my blogging easier.]

Open Letter to That Guy

Look, you can't just go around passing people without any retribution, Mr. Passed Me Right When I'm About Set Some Land Speed Records.

OK, I admit it. I was going a little slow on that downhill. But as you could clearly see it was still within the first mile on the trail. If you knew anything at all about running, that is what we call a warm-up mile. The next half-mile you would've been hard-pressed to pass me at my sub-8:00 mile pace.

If I wanted to, I could have passed you immediately after you passed me. But instead I chose to stay at your heels until you chickened out and turned around. I hope you learned your lesson.

Heart,
Viper

P.S., Yes, that was a smirk you saw on my face as I headed out a mile farther before turning back.

P.P.S., I appreciated your acceleration to separate from me on that hill 300 feet from where you quit. Otherwise I would have run up your back when you slowed down, which would have looked something like this ...

"Halp! Halp! Mai aksellerayshunz dont go fastur!"

Betterment for Viper

Every few years, it seems I get on this self-improvement kick. I'll outline a plan for what to do to improve my life. Sometimes these plans stick while other things fall by the wayside. Running was part of my last betterment plan.

Monday's post got me thinking in this vein again. Aside from all the health benefits that running has added to my life, it has also started to change my personality. During my first year, I had a chest-beating attitude about running, as if I were showing off every time I laced up. And that probably carried through most of last year.

However, I have felt a change over the past four months. Running has changed my outlook on life. It has given me clear indication that it is possible to improve myself. And it has taught me humility.

Improvement is quantifiable with running. I can see it in how my body looks. I can see it on the scale. I can chart my distance and my speed. Conversely, I can see what negatively impacts my running, and avoid those things. As I study my running, I can see areas that are lacking and formulate a plan to address those shortcomings.

Humility has been a tougher lesson. I think Americans have a serious problem with humility. We're a boastful, arrogant and self-righteous people. Forget the national scene, I see these qualities everyday in the people I know and love. I see them in myself. It sickens me.

Losing teaches you humility. Let's face it, if you're not breaking the tape, you're just one of the many losers in the race. This is by no means an effort to discount the races any of us have run. Racing is tough. I don't care what distance you're training for. But running has a tendency to show you how good you're not.

As a non-elite, there has to be something more to racing than pace and place. I think that something is in self-discovery.

Last year was a pretty ambitious year for me. I completed my first and second half marathons and my first full marathon. I was pretty ecstatic about my first half. The second was pretty much a repeated performance, but I was extremely disappointed in how I did. The marathon utterly smacked me in the mouth.

"Ever tried. Ever failed. No Matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better."
--Samuel Beckett

These disappointments and feeling of failure took some time to recover from. I'm a firm believer that you have to learn from failure. The lesson was humility. Now that I've tasted it, I want more. I think humility is the path to becoming a better human.

Humility. Humble. Human. All are rooted in similar Latin roots of "humilis," meaning lowly or meek; "humus," meaning ground; and "homo," meaning man. These words and their meaning are fundamentally linked.

Improvement and humility have helped shift my perspective. Having a visible indicator of self improvement gives me faith that I can enhance other aspects of my life as long as I try. Humility helps me be less of a jackass. And that's better for everyone.

Team Booze Hounds Inc. 101

Thanks to everyone who wished me a happy 100th post. Now we face a paradigm shift in this post 100 posts world. A reboot of sorts. Version 2.0 of boozing and running. Welcome to your primer for what the Booze Hounds Running Team will be in this new epoch!

Teammates, raise your glasses! Double knot your shoes! Here we go!

What do you have to look forward to in this new age of Team BHI? Well, more drinking and running of course. Did you honestly think otherwise? We're just going do it better.

I caught a glimpse of my drop-dead sexy legs yesterday--in other words, I looked down while I was in the shower--and realized how much running has changed my body. In his new book, Strides, Benjamin Cheever writes about how running changes your physiology. Your legs become leaner, your knees sturdier, your calves more prominent. True, and quite frankly you could also bounce a quarter off my ass.

But all self ogling aside, I realized that I am in far better shape now than I was in high school when I played ice hockey on the varsity team. In the time since I have weathered plenty of unmeasured boozing, smoked for almost 10 years and engaged in various other idiotic things a man will do to the detriment of his health. After all this, I am yet a better specimen of the man I was. This must be how a fine Scotch feels. Sure, I was good then and better now, but just imagine if you give me another couple years of careful aging.

For some reason on my drive to work this morning, this idea popped into my head: I'm going to live to be 110 years old. And as long as I keep improving over those decades to come, that's OK by me. I just hope my liver is up to the task.

So, this is my challenge: To continue becoming better. A better runner, a better drinker, a better person. This is not a challenge against you, teammates. But if you wish to join me, it is a challenge with you.

Cheers!

[Drunkard note: Image ripped from Despair, Inc.]

Feeling All Right and It Stinks

Martini calls me last night while I'm driving home from work ...

"Who is this?"

You called me.

"Right," he pauses, "are you running tonight?"

Am I running? No.

[Brief silence]

"So, that's a no then? Why not?"

Really, my hip feels fine, but that's just the problem. It feels fine enough to think I can go out for few miles with no ill effects. But my not-such-a-dumbass self knows my hip will be straining by mile two and I'll be in limptastic pain the next morning. I'm starting to feel out of sorts -- unwell, even. I see people running and I want to tackle them. This is what you get! This is what you get for taunting me!

I feel like a slug. I sit around most nights watching my reruns and I still have the appetite I had while training for the marathon. I fear I may need to go on a diet if this keeps up. Sadly, I may have to trade my beer for whiskey (very slimming!) while my running shoes are on sabbatical.

Luckily, I have a good distraction tonight. I scored tickets to Game 4 of the ALCS. Go Cleveland! Hmm, so much for the diet. Unless the vendors carry Johnnie Walker.