Flashback Friday: Slow Not as Slow

There I was, feeling all "Eye of the Tiger," reveling in the thrill of the fight, in perfect rhythm, exacting some revenge, cruising toward home along Portage Path, when I looked at my running app to see an 11:55 mile pace. I hadn't even taken any walk breaks this time, and I was slower?

Chalk it up to morning mental fogginess. The final score was an 11:01 pace. Still a slowpoke, but faster than the 11:30 miles I logged on Sunday. Progress!

And then I almost got hit by a car.

Two doors down from our house, I had to come to a quick stop as my neighbor backed out of the driveway, which has some foliage that obstructed the view for both parties. I stopped, the car stopped. It was dark, so I couldn't see the driver well, but I thought I had the all clear to cross behind the car. As I was at the passenger side corner, the car lurched into gear and almost snapped my left femur like a twig.

Let's pause for a safety meeting: Communication and visibility are your No. 1 tools for avoiding vehicular manslaughter. While I was decked out in my hunter's neon yellow cap, bright orange shirt and reflective vest (not to mention my pasty white skin), I probably should have worn my headlamp for extra visibility. My communication with the driver was also lacking. I couldn't see inside the car to make eye contact or give/receive a visual cue. Instead, I should have just waited for the driver to proceed. THE MORE YOU KNOW, PEOPLE!

It may sound ridiculous, but I've readjusted my yearly goal to crack 200 miles, which will be my lowest annual total since I began running in 2006. You know, because babies, am I right?

It's a meager goal, but it seems doable, which is the point. I think I can manage about 7 miles a week for the rest of the year. Maybe I'll even surprise myself, but let's not get our hopes up, OK?

After looking back through this year's posts, I don't think I even announced any goals for the year. Maybe because I knew from the get-go this would be a challenging year to accomplish such things. I did set some goals and marked them down in my running log. This is actually the second revision:

• My yearly goal for total mileage started at 1,000 miles, then went to 400 miles and now we're at 200. 
• I wanted to get my weight down to 170 pounds, then it was 175 and now I'm hoping for 180, but even that seems a bit far fetched right now.
• My racing goals were to return to the Akron Marathon and run two trail races, and now Mrs. Viper and I are considering the possibility of running a 5K this winter, which may or may not be this calendar year, to get us both back on the health and fitness train. 
• I also wanted to maintain that 10 percent barefoot goal from years past, which at 13 miles so far is still in play if we get some more warm fall days.

It's been a challenging year in terms of staying fit and active, but I'm focusing on the long view. There's always next year. 

Revenge of the Bastard

Sneaking out for a four-mile run Sunday morning got me into trouble in more ways than one. Today, soreness is my penance.

Having switched feeding shifts last week, the early hours have started to feel not so terrible. Friday, my extra morning time provided a chance to play my fiddle. Saturday, I just went back to sleep after Baby Viper ate his bottle. Sunday, however, seemed like a good time to run.

I put Little Man back in his crib, making sure he was done being fussy, and kissed Mrs. Viper goodbye. Little did I know that she had hoped to have her own time that morning. I'd be hearing about that later.

The morning was cool, but the humidity foretold the heat and thunderstorms that came later. The only hat I could find to tame my wild morning hair was a winter cap. Otherwise, shorts and a short-sleeve shirt were all I needed.

My route would take me down to my old foe, that old dirty Bastard Garman Hill. It had been quite some time since I last ran up the infamous hill. My pace seemed slow enough to save energy to make the climb, but the intervening month since my last run had drained all my trail-honed hill-running skills. About a third of the way up, my legs said, "No more."

Two more walk breaks were necessary before my run was through. The final tally was an 11:30 mile pace. My calves, hamstrings and quadriceps are all cranky today. That's what I get for being selfish and leaving my wife at home with the baby when she's stuck at home with him all week.

The toughest thing so far about becoming a parent is adjusting to the rearranged schedule. Our time is not our own. Although I've taken advantage of the early hours for some me time, I need to remember to make sure my wife also gets time for herself.

The Switch

Up until last night, my job was to take the 2 a.m. feeding shift for Baby Viper, while Mrs. Viper took the 5 a.m. shift. After talking to the doctor and learning that it would be OK to let him go four hours without eating overnight, we decided to switch shifts. She would take the 2 a.m. shift, and then I'd wake up at 6 a.m. to feed our son and then just stay awake, allowing me extra time to do stuff in the morning before work (e.g., go for a run, play my fiddle).

This was going to be great. I'd get up, Little Man would gulp down his bottle, I'd put him back to bed, and then I'd hit the streets (you know, since the parks are closed) for three or four miles. Fitness goals: back on track!

The kid was having none of it.

At a quarter 'til 5 a.m., he starts bawling. ZOMG! WHY ARE YOU STARVING ME? I grabbed his little body and shuffled downstairs to make his bottle, which he clearly thought it took too long for me to do, as he continued screeching bloody murder. He drained half his food in two seconds and then took FOREVER to finish the rest. My head bobbed to a groggy beat as I nodded off repeatedly.

By the time he finished his bottle, got a new diaper and was returned to his cradle, it was a quarter after 5. No way in hell I was just going to miss that much sleep. I got back in bed to wait for my alarm, and then hit snooze until 7 a.m., completely missing my window to run. But I did manage to fit in my morning routine of pull-ups, push-ups and planks. So, there's that.

If there's one thing we've learned about this whole having kids process it's that our plans will never work the way we expect them to ever again. Better luck next time, right?

Total Suckage

The scale presented the straw to my camel's back. The screen flashed a number so high that I kissed my wife goodbye. I was going for a run.

It takes a lot to get me out for a run early in the morning. For some reason, I awoke 15 minutes before my alarm, which I usually let snooze for half an hour before getting up most workday mornings. With nothing else to do, I stumbled downstairs and stared off into space for a few minutes before deciding to do some push-ups.

After two sets of 10, I wandered back upstairs, where the scale greeted me from inside the room that will soon contain a screaming baby. It had been several weeks since I last weighed myself. And after a holiday weekend, I wondered.

The screen flashed a high, round number, and I was like, "Nooo, that can't be right." I reset the scale and stepped on again. "Shit."

This morning's reading matched my all time high. And just like the last time my weight had reached this unfortunate milestone, I went for my first run in forever. Instead of lacing up an old pair of Etonic cross-trainers that were a size too small, I went barefoot because I didn't need to add any more weight.

After five minutes, my lungs were burning. My legs were sluggish, but they didn't feel sore until afterward. How far I've let myself go.

Setting my watch to 30 minutes, I managed almost 3 miles, which isn't so bad considering it had been since June 18 that I last ran any distance whatsoever. My feet felt pretty good.

When I returned, I did two more sets of 10 push-ups because, man, that number sucks. It just reminds me of how much of a slug I've become. Maybe this is the motivation I needed to get back on track. I hope so.

Flashback Friday: Racing Me

On the home stretch of our three-miler this morning, as we crossed a section of gravel and debris on the sidewalk that made me slow down, my wife suddenly turned on the jets. Oh, so that's how it's going to be, I see.

We were less than two blocks from home. She had a good 10-yard lead before the terrain allowed me to speed up. It took a moment to find my ketchup catch-up gear, but by that time the race was won. Mrs. Viper had chicked me.

She even turned around and gave me the "good job" handshake. Why don't you just spit in my eye and rub salt in my wounds while you're at it?

We have a four-miler on deck for our "long run" this weekend. She'd better watch out.

For the record, this was our second training run for the Akron Marathon Relay and second time waking up to run before work. What the hell is happening to me?

Back Talk
Wherein we've become morning runners

Jess has kicked your ass by commenting on every post so far this week and providing support for this recent trend of actual running: "Yay! Congrats on getting out there. Sometimes just getting out of bed is the hardest part!"

Answer: Morning is the worst, but my goal is for us to wake up early every day and either run or walk the dog on recovery days.

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

Some Actual Running

It was a struggle, but we did it. We woke up early. That was the hard part. The running was a piece of cake, a piece of cake with a couple walk breaks and wardrobe malfunctions.

The alarms went off before 6 a.m., and we finally got out the door about 45 minutes later.

Mrs. Viper is supposed to be the morning person in this relationship, but I was the one who finally rousted us out of bed.

I chose to go barefoot. The ground was cool. It was a pleasant morning for a run.

We ran a three-mile loop from the house. Mrs. Viper looked strong. Despite feeling a bit itchy, her scar didn't bother her too much. We covered more than a mile before our first walk break.

My right ankle was feeling a bit wonky. Apparently, it has gotten used to my slothful ways.

My wife's shoes started to bother her feet. First, the one seemed too loose. Then she wanted to take out the insert. Then the other one felt weird, so we took out that insert as well.

Because of her scar, it was too painful to reach down and mess with her shoes, so I bent down to do the task. The scene of a barefoot guy tying his wife's shoes amused me.

The final mile proved a tough test, what with its long slow incline becoming steeper as we returned to the Highland Square area. We had another couple of walk breaks, but we finished strong.

As I write this, Mrs. Viper is registering herself and the rest of our team. It's official. We're in training mode.

Flashback Friday: Early to Rise

My eyes opened at 6 a.m., according to the alarm clock, which means I actually woke up around 5:47. Lying there in bed, staring at the ceiling, I had the sudden urge to plank. I let the notion marinate for about 20 minutes so as to turn off my alarm after it sounded.

[Drunkard's note: You can tell I woke up early by looking at the time stamp of this post.]

Normally, I would hit snooze for another 90 minutes before awaking in a rush to get ready for work. Instead, I decided to sweat this morning with a 30-minute strength workout, which I've long vowed to complete on an off-running day. This was that day.

First was Jamoosh's combo plank routine, follow by three rounds of chair dips (10 reps), push-ups (10 reps), and 10-pound curls (20 reps), and finally back to the abs with two rounds of crunches (10 reps) and bicycle sit-ups (20 reps). I tried to do some 100-ups, but my body fizzled out after only about 25 reps.

Between my three-miler last night and this morning's workout, my weight finally dipped back down below 175 since Monday's ballooning.

Let's see if I can avoid another gorgefest this weekend. The only problem is there's a fresh growler of Irish Setter Red from Thirsty Thursday. Somebody's going to have to drink that.

Back Talk
Wherein we go a little further back for some smack talk

Ironman Kevin thinks shoes are the same as barefoot in the snow: "Time for you to man up. It was 14* here with blowing snow and I saw the distinct footprints of Vibrams on the running path today."

Answer: My Altras are just as minimal as Vibrams. I'm not impressed. But my shoes are not the same as going barefoot, nor are Vibrams. I'm just too much of wuss, whereas others are not.

B. Jarosz thinks I should stop worrying about my weight: "[M]aybe kill your bathroom scale and start measuring your waistline? Muscle is more dense than fat, so picking back up on the exercise is more important than what the scale says on any given day.

Answer: Good advice. I measured around my love handles and got around 34 inches with my Craftsman tape measure, but somehow I don't think it was the most accurate of measurements.

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

Like Starting Over

Almost six years ago, I laced up a pair of Etonic cross trainers that were too tight, bundled up in sweatpants and a couple layers of long-sleeved shirts with a knit cap and went for my first run.

I was tired of doing nothing, and my weight had climbed too high. A few months earlier I had smoked my last cigarette, and I wanted to do something with my newfound lung capacity. That day I embarked on a journey to become more healthy.

After a year of new lows in running performance, my weight has once again crested that high water mark it had reached in 2006. I'm not normally obsessed with how much I weigh, but I've gained 20 pounds since 2009, when I sneaked under 160.

This morning, I asked Mrs. Viper to push me out of bed because I skipped my run last night and then gorged myself on tacos and snacks. The recent snow made the footing cause for a slow pace, but I may have found my recipe for not feeling terrible after a morning run: 100-ups.

Before heading out the door, I did 20 of the "minor exercise" followed by 20 of the "major exercise." I also did 20 repetitions of chair dips, 15 crunches and 50 bicycle sit-ups, but it was the 100-ups that I credit with getting my body ready to run.

Normally, my knees feel terrible after morning runs. The minor exercise got my legs warmed up, and the major got my blood flowing and my balance in order. Now, if I can actually get myself out the door routinely, I might be able to become a morning runner. Maybe ...

Following the run, I did 20 reps of 20-pound curls and a few more crunches before Dobson decided to interrupt my workout. He's notorious for attacking me when I'm doing any sort of exercise that involves lying down.

To get my weight back in order, I'm starting to log my food consumption. The only diet I believe works is eating less and moving more. I'm a bit behind on my pre-training running plan this week, but the next few days appear ripe with warmer weather and no snow in the forecast. Let's go!

Flashback Friday: Snow Upon the Ground

And so we awoke this morning to the sound of a fist banging on our front door, and outside was awash in white. Our new dining room table was to be delivered between 7:35 and 9:35 a.m. Of course the truck arrived at 7.

Mrs. Viper hopped out of bed and threw on a robe to greet the delivery men. She's much nicer in the morning than I am. Dobson was barking up a storm, which I'm sure our new neighbors appreciated. They had to wake up for work at some point.

After slowly getting ready for the day, I headed downstairs. My wife on the couch, the dog outside, and two men putting together the table. They were done and out the door by 7:20, a good 15 minutes before they were even supposed to be there.

By now, our washer and dryer should have also arrived, which accounts for the last of our deliveries to the house. Tonight we finish up decorating in time for our house warming and Christmas tree trimming party tomorrow.

And, oh yeah, the snow.

For the first time this year, I had to scrape off my car windows. The drive in to work was a picturesque scene, a winding road through the Cuyahoga Valley National Park, the trees draped in snow, and even the compost plant presented a bucolic image, with its foul-smelling mounds of shit appearing as miniature snow-capped mountains.

I was hoping to break my streak before the first real snow, but alas we still display goose eggs in our mileage counter.

Back Talk
Wherein a party might help further the lack of running

Misszippy says I shouldn't get too settled: "Better watch out or you'll find yourself like me, clawing your way back to fitness! Nothing like a deadline (party) to get you in motion to finish things off. Have fun!"

Answer: I fear my first run from the new house will have lots of walk breaks. As for finishing up the house details, I always work better under deadline, says the procrastinator with the journalism degree.

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

Changing Time

For a moment, I considered attempting another conversion to becoming a morning runner. With the time change this weekend, the brighter mornings seemed welcoming to a few, quick (or not) miles. But then I thought better of the notion.

Waking up early is work. And I have nothing to work toward on the running front. I just want to get some consistent runs on my schedule, three or four days a week, 12 to 20 miles per week. Thankfully, the weather has been cooperating nicely--not something I can bank on, but a nice happenstance.

Over the weekend, I managed a short neighborhood run amid familial obligations, terrible Cleveland Browns football, playing the banjo, and finally acquiring the keys to the Enthusiast's and my new house.

I'm really enjoying running in just socks, as silly as it sounds. I'm amazed at how much warmth and protection can come from so little material. Whereas acorns and other fall debris have been known to ravage my poor bare feet, a thin layer of cotton seems ample in gliding over my neighborhood terrain. I'm curious to try this on the Towpath.

I'm keeping track of the mileage on each pair of dedicated running socks (an eight-pack of low-cut Adidas), as I'm curious how long they'll last. So far, I've logged nine miles in the first pair with nothing more than dirtiness affecting the soles.

I'm hopeful the just-socks option will carry me through until the snow comes.

Flashback Friday: Don't Spare the Whips

At least that's what I tell the Enthusiast, but that's another story. We're short on time this morning, as my office summer picnic is today, and I have drive out to BFE to a canoe livery.

This morning's five-miler was a bit chilly to start. Is it almost autumn already? I think I missed summer. Somebody press rewind.

Let's get right to it ...

Back Talk
Wherein I don't have time for this shit.

Jamoosh doesn't delay his opinion: "There is nothing wrong with a 4:30 marathon."

Answer: I didn't say there was. I'm just managing goals. That is my "A goal" for this year's Akron Marathon.

Jess cautions against morning runs: "Supposedly, everyone's feet are more tender first thing in the morning. Careful of developing PF from running barefoot first thing. I've read that even stepping onto hard floors right out of bed is damaging to the soles of the feet."

Answer: That sounds like a load of horseshit. Lock that theory up with the bogeyman. If I injure myself getting out of bed, I promise to die of shame.

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

Me and the Hybrid Guy

Not even a mile into my run this morning a guy was yelling out his car window at me. I had to wake up early this morning to run because the Enthusiast and I have a meeting with our DJ tonight.

The cool morning gave me the shivers, but my bare feet enjoyed the lack of burning. It took me a good quarter mile before my feet could ramp up to a quick turnover. Yes, BrianFlash, I shoot for four steps per second, or 240 per minute. My goal is to make 180 steps per minute (or three per second) my minimum turnover rate.

My feet seem more tender in the morning from my limited experience. Perhaps a day's worth of walking around toughens (or numbs?) them by the time I go for a run in the afternoon. Just an observation.

By the time I reached the big intersection, I was up to speed and my feet had settled into the run. I crossed the street and slipped behind a Honda stopped at the light. As soon as I cleared the opposite curb, the car made a wonky noise, and I realized it must be a hybrid. I was too late to check the branding.

The driver pulled forward a few feet and then stopped. As I passed the car, the passenger window rolled down, and the driver yelled, "Nice!"

Definitely a hybrid.

I gave the excited man a friendly wave and continued on my way. My four-miler was otherwise uneventful. My pace was slightly faster than my average for the past three weeks, and my quickest pace over four miles since July 27. Steady improvement.

Flashback Friday: Morning Duet

It's move-it-to-lose-it time around the Viper-Enthusiast lair. With less than two months to go until the wedding, we've got fittings to prepare for, by golly! Such motivation resulted in actually waking up and doing some exercise this morning before work.

We dragged our butts out of bed and headed to the par course, which has become my new favorite workout. Since that fateful day a week ago, I've already returned twice more, completing the full circuit of exercises.

The Enthusiast joined me and made me realize just how ridiculous some of these routines are, but I've noticed the results. She also helped me figure out some of the stations, where the little stick man doesn't quite make clear what action you're supposed to perform.

My reverse somersaults on the rings? Yeah, those were supposed to be an abdominal workout where you stand in place and use your core muscles to move your body in a wide circle. However, the Enthusiast's pole hump was incorrect. Good thing it was early and children were not around to witness that one.

Back Talk
Wherein we try to ignore the advertisements that have overrun this blog

Misszippy congratulates me for calling my shoes a bunch of tools: "Good for you. I'm sure your feet will be happiest this way. Wish I had been smart enough to transition as slowly as you have ... one of these days I'll be there."

Answer: Don't worry I'll soon try to go too far, too soon and show how smart I really am.

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

Flashback Friday: Winded and Walking

It's embarrassing that I was walking just a half-mile into my three-miler this morning. I couldn't seem to catch my breath. As has been the case the last three weeks, I prefaced my run with sit-ups and push-ups, and now I've added stretchy-band curls to the mix.

This pre-run routine usually leaves me nicely warmed up, but it seems the additional workout went just a little too far. However, that didn't stop me from completing the same routine post-run -- after I finally made it back.

Though my mileage has been limited, I'm hoping this strength and core work will prepare me well for the early stages of marathon training, which I worry I'm not ready for after all the slacking I've been doing so far this year.

I just hope I can manage to run the full three miles next time. On tap this weekend is a longish trail run. My plan this year is to take advantage of the Buckeye Trail and run all of my long runs on this hilly terrain. The Towpath is over.



Back Talk
Wherein perhaps some skills should be left at home.

Xenia shares the frightening reality of the steamy Greek culture: "This is the culture you're marrying into: http://www.dlisted.com/2011/05/20/hot-sluts-day. Be proud."

Answer: Does this mean I need to start practicing this skill on my banjo?

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

Steamy Sit-Ups

Eyes bleary from pushing myself up Merriman. The air thick with humidity from last night's rain. The temperature rising to the 60s. I laid on my back after a set of 60 bicycle sit-ups and thought I saw fog rolling into the carport where I placed my workout mat.

I blinked to make sure it wasn't sweat getting into my eyes. Then I realized what I saw wasn't fog, but steam rising off my body. This is a common occurrence during the winter, but it's super badass when it happens in the middle of spring. 

My weekly morning short runs have included sets of push-ups and sit-ups before and after the slog. This morning I found my stretchy bands and did a couple sets of curls. I've always been really good about working on my core as I get my marathon training started, but then I eventually forget about it. We'll see if I can break that pattern. After all, I've managed to get close to being a morning runner.

It seems most of my displeasure from running in the morning was from the jarring of my joints without warning (aka, a day's worth of moving around to warm up), but now I run much smoother after more than a year of focusing on better form.

With the weekend approaching, I'm looking forward to another long trail run, as I build up base mileage.

Another Two Weeks?

My monthly mileage hit 30 this morning, yet I still have two weeks to go before May is over. The preceding months this year have topped out at 26, 22, 22 and 23 miles. I've outrun my highest month by four miles already. How am I to maintain my slacker image at this pace?

Thankfully, I'm still not timing myself during these runs. I don't want to also discover that I'm secretly fast all of the sudden. That wouldn't do at all.

Saturday morning, before the rain came and before the Enthusiast contracted the whomping bowel fever, we hit the Buckeye Trail (from the Boston Store) with her brother for a seven-mile hike and run. All the recent precipitation made what is usually an ankle-deep water crossing a knee-high soaker.

Our mud-caked legs drew stares from some pedestrians as we walked into Peninsula from the Pine Lane trailhead and then made our way back to the Boston Store on the Towpath.

I didn't get quite as many miles as I had hoped last week, but today my head finally feels clear of whatever illness kept me home from work last week. (And no, I didn't pass it on; it seems the Enthusiast caught whatever her mother and papou have had.)

This week's forecast calls for rain, rain and then some more rain. My three-miler this morning was at 43 degrees with constant mist. Good times.

Flashback Friday: Wake Up, Back to Bed

My head is still not right, full of snot and spite. When my dual alarms went off this morning, I turned them off and said goodnight. I'll run another day.

Tomorrow looks promising for a small group trail run and hike. One more run will put me ahead of the last three months in total mileage, which should make May the best month of the year so far.

Sunday is the Cleveland Marathon. Good luck to all Team BHI members and honorable mentions. If you need a quick preview of the course, check out the video here.

As you may have surmised from the lack of updates, the Enthusiast has bowed out with too many items on her plate (teaching three college courses, writing her thesis, planning our wedding, etc.). No shame there. As we say about our sports teams, maybe next year.

Back Talk 
Wherein apparently we deal with lost posts 

I swear I wrote and posted a blog yesterday. Where'd it go? The gist was I've been fighting off a cold, which caused me to stay home sick Tuesday. I hit the roads for a barefoot three-miler Wednesday evening and tried to sweat out the remaining toxins. It was a really funny post, I swear. I'm really offended you didn't comment on its wit.

***UPDATE*** Xenia has rescued my post from the depths of the Internet. Here it is, reposted. Thanks!

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

Running into a Wall

My legs were starting to feel like raspberry jelly after about three miles of up and down trails at Sand Run. The Mingo trail was kicking my ass when I came to where it crossed the multipurpose path. With time running out and my legs wanting to give out, I made the hard left from the rough trail onto the crushed limestone path.

Suddenly, I felt as if I were at the track, accidentally sprinting the next mile to where I could rejoin the trails and finish my run. My legs felt invigorated with the fast pace, the steep hills forgotten.

When I crossed the bridge and then the road to get back on the trails, my legs were shocked and awed. The steep hills did not care to be forgotten. It was if I had run into the Berlin Wall. ("Tear down this wall!") My legs would only let me walk the uphills.

However, when I finished my run, I had logged my second consecutive double-digit mileage week. Already, May's mileage is just six miles from surpassing April's total.

Cross Training Court
Saturday, the Enthusiast and I decided to start a new ritual by visiting our local tennis courts and hitting the ball around. She tried to get me to warm up by doing walking lunges, but my knees don't care for that. We swatted balls back and forth for a good half-hour. By yesterday afternoon, we were both feeling the aftereffects. We're planning another tennis match tonight after work. Hopefully, she won't kick my ass this time.

Remember Sun Screen
I had to wake up early to run Sunday because the Enthusiast's brother was graduating college. We had beautiful weather for a change, and the ceremony was held outdoors. Today I'm nursing my first sunburn of the season. This is a good reminder that we runners should remember to slather on the SPF to avoid the skin cancers.

Almost a Habit
Almost like clockwork now, I woke up this morning to run three miles. I'm looking forward to Wednesday as the weather forecast looks favorable for a dawn barefoot run, with overnight lows in the upper 50s. I'm too chicken to try it any colder than that.

Playing the Part Well

The temperature was decidedly un-springlike, dipping into the 30s this morning, yet still I persevered and ran (he wrote, over-dramatically). Though my mileage is more couch to 5K than marathon, consistent movement has started to firm up the winter flabs.

When the double alarms went off at 6 a.m., I hit snooze once for each and then rolled out of bed almost like a real morning person. Though I may have zoned out in grogginess for a minute or two while I was getting dressed for my three-miler, my mood is much less hostile toward the prospect of hitting the pavement at such an inhumane hour.

You might mistake me for a regular early-riser, but I would caution you not to try chatting me up until I've had at least one cup of joe. Otherwise you might confuse my wry wit with rancor. And I wouldn't want to hurt your delicate sensibilities, now, would I?

Establishing a Pattern

It was even raining this morning, but I still woke up and ran before work. And last week, I managed to hit double-digit mileage for the first time in two months. To top it all off, I actually ran one more mile in April than I did in February and March.

May marches in with some good running vibes. Here is last month's statistical rundown:

• Total Miles: 23 miles (seven runs)
• Highest Weekly: 10 miles
• Average Weekly: 5.75 miles
• Average Pace: N/A (no watch used)
• Longest/Fastest Run: ~4 miles @ ~10:00 pace
• The Monthly Dif: +1 miles (22 miles in March)

I'm starting to feel that charge from my recent uptick in exercise, my lungs are feeling more expansive, my limbs feel tingly, and my core has a soothing dull ache from my routine of push-ups and sit-ups before and after each run. My goodness, I might be getting into shape.