Terrible Quarterback Rating

Throwing to a four-foot-nothing receiver resulted in pain and sorrow on Labor Day. My 12-year-old nephew wasn't pleased with my all-day quarterbacking and called me out several times during our brothers vs. brothers duel. Our best play was the flea-flicker, where I could use my size and longer stride to race to two consecutive touchdowns against my brother and other nephew.

But still, we lost because I couldn't connect on all by one of my throws, consistently launching the ball over the outstretched arms of my teammate.

Monday's game was the most exercise I'd gotten in the last week and a half. Mrs. Viper and I are on the home stretch of pregnancy, and things have been a bit frazzled. My running took the hit.

Until my last speedy run, my monthly mileage had been on the upswing, but instead August ended with a total that ties for fourth best (and worst) of the year. Here is last month's statistical rundown:

• Total Miles: 12 miles (4 runs)
• Total Time: 2.6 hours
• Highest Weekly: 6 miles
• Average Weekly: 3 miles
• Average Pace: 13:21/mile
• The Monthly Dif: -3 (15 miles in July)

BONUS STATS!

• Walking: 17.27 miles (10 walks)

My walking stats also were down this past month, as some bad weather and a busy work schedule ate into my lunchtime routine.

My shoulder and hamstrings feel the burn this morning, but not as bad as the burning shame of my 55.4 quarterback rating, which still beats any of the Cleveland Browns quarterbacks this year.

Maybe in May

It's May already. The new normal indicates that life will never slow down again, but rather increasingly accelerate toward infinity. Therefore, look back at your own peril. We're already losing time to make up lost ground. Here's April's statistical rundown:

• Total Miles: 12 miles (5 runs)
• Total Time: 2.99 hours
• Highest Weekly: 6 miles
• Average Weekly: 3 miles
• Average Pace: 13:25/mile
• The Monthly Dif: +6

If you're up on your math skills, you'll see that I doubled last month's mileage, which impresses exactly no one. Despite recent trends, I'm feeling hopeful for May's running.

Well, at least for this week.

With an average of 1.25 runs per week, it's hard to gain any sort of momentum. Regular runs early this month started to result in improved times, but still it wasn't enough to effect change on the bathroom scale.

Mrs. Viper dropped some knowledge on me last night, telling me she's observed why I've gained more weight than she has during her pregnancy. To wit, when I stop running, I start eating like a trash compactor.

She had heard tales of my prodigious appetite, but had only really witnessed it in the form of snacking. I'll take down a bag of chips in record time. But those used to be isolated instances, whereas my current habits have exacerbated this quality.

In college, I developed a bit of a reputation among friends and family of being able to eat A LOT without really showing signs of it on my frame.

By the time Mrs. Viper and I met, however, my appetite had become less gargantuan, which can probably be traced to the fact that I was conscientious about what I was eating to fuel my body for running.

It's not that I'm eating particularly unhealthily right now, she said, but I'm eating way more. I'm having a hard time with portion control. Maybe this will be a turning point.

Reset Button

Sometimes you just have to give up and hit restart. That's what these last three months of 2012 feel like. Let's just erase everything that came before, which wasn't much, and focus on tomorrow.

Tomorrow will mark my return to trail running after work. Neither (i.e., trail running nor running after work) has occurred since July.

Wow, July, really? Looking that up just now was like a kick to the perineum.

No need to rehash the last nine months any further. What's done is done and gone.

My new mileage goal is 190 before New Year's Eve. That leaves me 12 weeks. To be safe, I'm aiming to average 16 miles per week. But what should be my strategy?

In years past, my weekly running schedule comprised three to four day of running, but then I see the mileage Jess does with her streak of more than 100 days, and I start wonder "what if."

My streak would have to reach 82 days at an average of 2.32 miles per day. Seems a bit more ambitious than what you've seen out of me lately, doesn't it?

And it wouldn't be very entertaining if I was like, "Yeah, I'm totally gonna get a streak going," only to come back and say, "Yeah, my streak ended at one," which sounds a lot more typical of me this year.

At any rate, those are the numbers: 82 days to log 190 miles. Let's do this!

Shall I Get Dirtier?

Earlier this year I learned that my favorite road race, the Buckeye Half Marathon, had been moved from its previous schedule date as the perfect Akron Marathon preparatory event to the end of October.

When I first started running this race back 2007, it was three weeks from Akron. In 2009, it was moved up to two weeks before the marathon. Then, for 2010 (PR!) and 2011 (PW), they moved it back to the end of August.

Aside from being a great marathon training run on an enjoyable course, the race organizers had also partnered with the Akron Marathon to offer a discounted entry fee if you signed up for both events at the same time.

Now, there's none of that. And I'm not sure I even want to run the event this year because I'm a brat.

But now, like Luke Skywalker, there is a new hope. Having enjoyed my time at the Dirty Dash, I decided to see what other races in the series looked appealing. Turns out, there's the Leave No Trace trail half marathon on Sept. 1, four weeks before the Akron Marathon.

According to the  event description, the Leave No Tracecourse is hilly and technical, which sounds like a perfect way to prepare for the hills I'll be running in the marathon a month later. Additionally, the course is on a camp ground that isn't normally open to runners.

But wait, there's more! Looking at the rest of the Dirty Trail Race Series events, there are a few other races that line up well with my marathon training plan. Of course, signing up for these events could hamper the ol' pocketbook, but that doesn't mean I can't wait and see how finances look before the zero-hour of when the cheaper early registration period ends.

But what about race burnout? My racing participation has severely dwindled over the years. From a peak of 10 events in 2008, I ran only two races last year. Does the 10 percent rule apply to adding races to you schedule? Should I be running 2.2 races this year? I believe that would be two full races and a DNF ...

Locked on Target

This year just keeps speeding by, despite an extra day on the calendar. My pretraining plan remains a strong motivator to keep me getting out the door, but yesterday I added another catalyst to keep running.

I signed up for my first race of the year, the Dirty Dash, a 10-kilometer trail race. I've never run a race on trails, so I'm looking forward to the challenge. Hopefully, we get some dry weather between now and March 24. My goals for the race are to 1.) not fall, and 2.) finish with an overall pace under 11 minutes per mile.

Can you believe March is here? Here's last month's statistical rundown:

• Total Miles: 47 miles (13 runs)
• Total Time: 8.3 hours
• Highest Weekly: 15 miles
• Average Weekly: 11.75 miles
• Average Pace: 10:35/mile
• The Monthly Dif: -5 miles (52 miles in January)

My average pace slowed this month, despite a spate of "fastest of the year" runs. Looking at my increased trail mileage (22.2 in February vs. 13.7 in January), and the reason for the apparent slowdown becomes clear. I ran 47 percent of February's total mileage on trails, whereas 26 percent of January's total were on trails.

If I divide my runs into trails and non-trails, my average pace for each were 11:17 per mile on trails and 9:46 on every other surface. In January, those paces were 11:59 and 10:02, respectively. Drilling down just a little bit, and my improvement over last month come into focus.

My mileage should have increased in February, but I missed a couple runs due to family circumstances. Except for a little tightness in my legs after last week's increase in mileage, my body feels strong for another good month.

March's goals are to continue with my conservative pretraining plan, which will take me up to eight miles by month's end, and to enjoy my first race of the year. I'm not planning any sort of aggressive ramp-up for the event. I've based my goals on Sunday's "mud skiing" run, and I'm looking forward to some friendly competition.

Pushing the Pace

After the first few steps, it was if someone had hit the "GO!" button. My feet lightly glided over the sidewalks, quietly lifting, lifting, lifting, and lifting away.

The long slow hill up Market to home only slightly impeded my speed. The final result was my second fastest run of the year.

With a 9:30 per mile pace, I'm not setting any land speed records any time soon, but it's marked improvement for the year. Most of my runs are still around 10 minutes per mile, except for Tuesdays, which seem to be my fast day.

Looking back over the past month, three of my four fastest runs were done on a Tuesday. My average Tuesday pace is 9:34 per mile. For all the other days, it's 10:52. Granted those other days also include my trail runs, which average 12:07 per mile.

OK, enough math.

Upon returning home, I conducted a short strength workout, with planks, crunches, bicycle-kick sit-ups, and 20- and 10-pound curls. I still have yet to complete these exercises on a non-run day, but I really mean to, I swear.

Three more runs to go this week. Can I get another one under a 10-minute mile pace?

Flashback Friday: Sockemetrics

If this were a Harry Potter movie, you might say my newest minimalist footwear have become "saint-like." But according to Barefoot Josh, my first pair of running socks are now "properly seasoned."

After last night's frigid four-miler, I discovered a hole in the heal of my left sock. This particular pair has now endured 16 miles of running. At $12 per eight-pack ($1.50 per pair), these socks have offered a value of slightly more than 9 cents per mile before showing signs of deterioration.

What I'm wondering, though, is if you can parse some knowledge about your running form by looking at the wear pattern of a sock, as you supposedly can by looking at the wear pattern on the sole of a traditional running shoe. That is, does this hole in the heal mean I'm heal-striking too much? And since it formed only in the one sock, am I favoring one leg over the other?

As I continue to search for my "one best way of running," as Alberto Salazar once said, I seek any clue that might hint toward a tweak in form, balance or cadence. One thing I've notice about running in socks is that my feet have a tendency to slide a bit, basically emphasizing the need to "lift up" and not "push off" during each stride. It's almost like running in sand.

On a completely different note, I've been adding lightpole intervals to my last two runs. While it's too early to glean the results, my average pace this week has been about a minute faster on the same route compared to prior weeks. If anything, it's probably just consistency, but the improvement is nice to see.

Back Talk
Wherein you folks need to step up your collective game because certain commentators are hogging all the space here

Jamoosh needs a bit of a clarification about my piles of exclamations: "Would you say you squealed like a little girl at a Justin Bieber concert or squealed like a little girl who has just witnessed her older brother doing something gross?"

Answer: I'd say it was more like a little girl who just found her favorite doll dangling by a noose.

Happy Hour is nearly upon us, teammates! Have a finely brewed weekend. Run well and drink well. Cheers!

Return to Double Digits

My 10-miler ... 00ps! ... make that 12-miler last night marked my first double-digit run since hell I don't even know. It also put me back into the 20-mile range for the week, which is only about 6.5 miles shy of what I need to average per week to average 20 weekly miles for the year. I also crossed 3,000 recorded lifetime miles. (I didn't log my miles my first year of running in 2006.)

The weekend got off to a debilitating start with a powerful four-pack during a Cavs win on Friday, which left me reeling the next morning, canceling my planned five-miler. Sunday quickly slipped away with Mother's Day festivities, but I was determined to complete my long run.

I planned a 10-miler, but I didn't plan my route very well. I eyeballed the Akron Marathon route and decided I'd run down my new favorite hill to the Towpath and follow the race course back home. "Yeah, that looks to be about 10 miles," I thought, as I threw on some appropriate clothing for the chilly night. I expected to be gone for an hour and 40 minutes.

By the time I got into Sand Run, I knew I had misjudged the distance. I had already been running for 50 minutes, and I knew I had at least six miles to go. Turned out to be more like seven. However, I felt surprisingly fresh and spry.

My quads felt a bit wrecked after I tried to wreck them by starting my run on the massive downhill, but I managed to keep my turnover fast by focusing on my form (bent knees, short strides). A couple of the later miles I timed were in the 9-9:30 range, and my overall average pace was 9:55 per mile.

Although the route turned out to be a hair over 12 miles, it was a great run and a solid marathon simulator. The Memorial Parkway hill is longer and about as steep as the Howard Street hill, and the route back home contains some of the toughest parts of the race, climbing out of the valley.

Flashback Friday: 46 91.5 Miles to Go

My weekly giant slalom interval improved by another 1:28 over last week. My goal is to keep my pace even on the downhill of Memorial Parkway and the flatland of the Towpath.

I bombed down at an 8:10 mile pace. I stopped for a quick drink of water at the entry to the Towpath and then ran an 8:11 mile out to my turnaround, followed by a 7:52 back to the bottom of the hill. Success!

My uphill pace is also slowly improving. My first attempt was roughly a 12:21 mile pace, and I ran up yesterday at a 10:44 pace.

My overall effort was a solid 8:50 per mile. I've also gotten better at not almost falling on the descent.

Back Talk
Wherein I get my own words thrown in my face. Who knew you people actually paid attention?

Xenia proves she knows how to dig up shit from the past in regard to my 60-mile goal: "Didn't you want to hit an average of 20 miles per week? If so, then your 60 mile May is insufficient. You suck big hairy monkey balls at math so I thought I'd help you out. No need to thank me."

Answer: No, I won't thank you, but a curse word comes to mind for reminding me of this post. My running log's "Yearly Goal Progress" reads -151.6 miles. My average weekly rate so far is 11.7 miles. If my math is anywhere near correct (unlikely), I will have to average 105.5 miles each month from here on out. Another curse word come to mind.

Happy Hour is nearly upon us, teammates. Have a finely brewed weekend. Run well and drink well. Cheers!

Virtual Race Report: Globally Warmed Ass

Last night I struck out on a double challenge: first, to complete Razz's Global Warming, My Ass! 6.66 Mile Run; and second, to piggyback an Elevens workout after the race to do my best to best Barefoot Josh in the combined events.

The Setup
In the comments to my Monday post, BFJ said he wouldn't be going for time. Even still, I knew it would be difficult to win this challenge. His Elevens are twice as fast as mine, so my only chance was to make up time on the run. That too is a tall order.

Josh's race stats are also quite a bit faster than mine, except his marathon PR (4:18:10, according to his blog) and his recent "not trying" 10-K were slower than my bests. However, I'm nowhere near my best shape. Would my out-of-shape pace be enough to beat his not-trying pace?

For the race course, I picked Sand Run, a familiar path, but one that is hilly, soggy and uneven. And I started this run as the sun was setting, so add darkness to the mix. The Sand Run path is six miles out and back, but it's easy to tack on mileage after the turnaround by continuing on Sand Run Parkway after the park path ends.

I had one rule for this race: Keep my strides short. I'm working on my turnover and forefoot landing, but I have a tendency to revert to longer strides when I'm pushing the pace. I wanted to see if I could run fast with tiny, girlie steps.

The Hook
The continuing thaw has cleared all the snow and ice from the Sand Run path, but the crushed limestone surface was spongy under foot from the added moisture. I tried to start off too fast like in a real race and see if I could hold on to the pace throughout my run.

Before the first half-mile, I caught up to a man running with his dog. As I approached, the dog stopped to write its name in the snowbank next to the path. They started up again as soon as I passed, and I could hear them nipping at my heals. This was the motivation I needed. I kept my legs churning in miniature circles and pulled away from the pair.

Mile 1: 8:29.46

I crossed Sand Run creek and rounded the bend after the bridge to start the second mile, where the rolling hills begin. I pretended to climb a tall staircase with shallow steps, hammering up the hills and flying down as if I were trying to stay on top of a rolling barrel.

Mile 2: 9:30.6

The second half of the third mile is all uphill and requires two road crossings. I flew across the first crosswalk, but had to wait for cars at the second. My impatience got me charged up to tackle the long climb to Revere Road, where the park path ends.

Mile 3: 9:55.42

Here's where things got tricky. As you should know by now, I refuse to use a Garmin or any other GPS device. I often extend runs at Sand Run to eight miles by continuing into the residential area beyond the park path, and I also know the turnaround point for a seven-miler. But this was supposed to be a 6.66-miler.

I used MapMyRun.com to determine the 0.33-mile turnaround point, which was roughly at the end of a yard. There, I pressed the lap button on my watch and continued to the turnaround for an even seven miles. On the way back, I marked the 0.33-mile point again and timed myself back to the park.

I knew that where I pressed my lap button for the 0.33-mile mark was a little off. To get the proper time for 0.66 miles, I used the average between the combined time I had for that 0.33-mile stretch (6:04.25), the time for the entire fourth mile (9:06.98), my pace for the prior three miles to see what I was running up until then (9:18), and my pace for the whole run (9:05). The result is a 9:10 mile pace.

Mile 3.66: 6:03.25

I failed to mention that the darkness gave me trouble seeing the street signs that served as my mile markers during that fourth mile. I turned around too early once, realized my mistake and turned around again. After all that confusion, I was ready to get back to the park path, where I hammered down that long hill.

Mile 4.66: 8:38.5

The darkness was starting to play tricks on me now. My eyes were as wide as they could go, but exertion was forcing oxygen to other parts of my body, causing the edges of my vision to blur and distort. Shadows turned beastly. Passing cars blinded me with their headlights, and I bent double to see the edge of the path so I wouldn't fall into the ditch.

Mile 5.66: 8:53.92

My running form was starting to unravel. It became more difficult to take baby steps, as I wanted to let my legs loose. But I knew the focus on turnover was resulting in my fastest run of the year. I redoubled my concentration and took even smaller strides to the finish.

Mile 6.66: 9:02.32

The Sting
I finished the run at a decent 1:00:33.47, but that wasn't the end of this challenge. I still needed to knock out a fast Elevens workout, completing 55 push-ups and 55 sit-ups. All in good form. And if possible, without Dobson tackling me.

When I got home from Sand Run, I asked the Enthusiast to distract the dog while she also cooked and cleaned. (Was that asking for too much?) The strategy worked for the first few sets, and I was sure I was on pace for a record-setting Elevens. But then Dobson caught a glimpse of all the fun I was having.

The pooch rushed over to join me as I was in the middle of some push-ups, helpless to his tongue lashings. I rolled over to perform some sit-ups and tried to ignore the giant paws batting at my head. "Dobson, stop bothering daddy while he tortures himself," the Enthusiast pleaded. But it was too late. My Elevens had him wound up, and my record was gone.

Elevens: 8:28 flat

The post-race spread was far better than any I've had at other events. There was salmon, marinated in a pineapple teriyaki sauce, rice with chicken flavor, and a lightly sauteed summer squash. To rehydrate, Redemption wine from Wolf Creek Winery. For dessert, lime Jell-O with pineapple and maraschino cherries. All in all a successful evening. But did I win?

GW,MA!6.66MR: 1:00:33.47 (9:05 pace)
Elevens: 8:28
Combined: 1:09:01.47

I think this virtual race report is longer than most of my real race reports ...

2 = 1+1 = 11

As penance for gorging myself on maple frosted doughnuts yesterday, I went home and leashed up Dobson for a quick two-mile run around the block. I'm still taking it slow with the pooch while he learns how to run in straight lines and at a faster pace.

Though I ate two doughnuts, two miles didn't feel like enough of a punishment. I rolled out my mat and set upon another round of the Eleven workout. Barefoot Josh challenged me to an Elevens duel, so I really tried to knock it out as fast as I could. My score: 8:13.

BFJ still has me beat by a full two minutes, but I'm willing to bet I got a better workout as Dobson tried to tackle me every time I dipped down for a push-up or dropped back for a sit-up.

Do you know how tough it is to fend off an exuberant puppy in the middle of 55 push-ups and 55 sit-ups? To compound the problem, every time I shoved him away, he thought we were playing and came right back at me.

However, I'm happy to note that I don't have to resort to girlie push-ups anymore. And unlike Josh, I can do real sit-ups.

[Drunkard's note: If you can't solve my fuzzy math equation in the title, that's 2 (doughnuts) = 1+1 (miles) = 11 (workout).]

Jumping on the Virtual Bandwagon
Razz is trying his hand at being a virtual race director with his Global Warming, My Ass! 6.66 Mile Run. How do you sign up? Follow my handy link and write "I'm in" in the comments. You have until today to get on board, so hurry up. Then all you have to do is run 6.66 miles some time between March 5 and March 14. And make sure you blog about it, or Razz will cry and call you names.

Flashback Friday: MATH FAIL

You people are slacking off big time. Here, I say I only need to run 18 more miles to reach 1,000 for the year. Then, here, I say I need to run 14 miles after running a four-miler Wednesday night. Yes, 18 - 4 = 14. However, over to the right, in the space titled "Mileage," it says I've run 966 miles this year. Let's see, 1,000 - 966 = 14?

FAIL

Make that 34, folks. Thirty-four. Or 20 more miles than previously thought. Shit.

Xenia is the only one observant enough to catch my pathetic mathematician skills.

Back Talk
Wherein my cocksure attitude and stumblebum execution provides plenty of entertainment.

GeorgiaSnail enjoys the recent drama of my quest to reach 1,000 miles: "December 1, 2009: I will paraphrase~ This year's quest will not be the same drama as last year. You even said it! 'Easy as eating pie! Who wants to see if this hubris bites me in the ass?' I do love the excitement of it all ... will he, won't he .... does he really lurve the banjo?"

Answer:

Another obstacle to my running, this is my Christmas gift to myself, my new Dobson-style banjo by B & P Banjos, which I brought home Tuesday.

Happy Hour is nearly upon us, teammates. Have a finely brewed weekend. Run well and drink well. Cheers!