Flashback Friday: Final Flashback

If this post was the Alpha, then the one you're reading now is the Omega.

It's been seven years that I've been writing as your fearless leader of the Booze Hounds Inc. Running Team, and a lot has changed in that time. From hungover race reports to sprawling epics of virtual events, from blogger duels to terrible haikus, and from slaying my white whale to marriage-adjusted PRs — you've followed me through my drunken bachelor days, to marrying the love of my life and finally to becoming a dad.

There just isn't anything else to say, and so I'm following the path that others have blazed before me. I'm joining the ranks of Ian, Razz, Sun Runner, Xenia, Barefoot Josh and sometimes Nitmos in the great blogging hereafter before my posts succumb to further obnoxiousness.

Like all of my forebloggers, this site will not be taken down in its dormancy. I'll still read those bloggers I've been following for years, as I can't deny the draw of the online running community we've created. Perhaps, I'll post again when I have something interesting to say.

I believe this leaves Jess as the lone blogger whose site I followed from the beginning and who is still active. Her streak remains unparalleled.

There are several reasons why I made the decision to go on an indefinite hiatus. I'm no longer the booze hound I once was, nor am I the runner I once was. My priorities have changed such that the things in my life that I would normally share in this space are no longer commonplace enough to warrant the level of navel-gazing that a good blog requires. My posts have lacked the excitement and humor that make for an enjoyable writing experience, and by extension a good read for you. My focus just isn't here anymore.

This isn't goodbye so much as it's an announcement of my semi-retirement. Thank you all for reading about my adventures over the years, and for lending your support and derision in equal measure. Good luck in all that you do. Happy Hour is approaching. Remember, alcohol reduces pain and increases confidence. Run well and drink well. Cheers, forever more!

Flashback Friday: Midpoint of Sorts

Some day prior to the week of July 14, I created and printed out my official marathon training plan, an 11-week program plucked from the drink-addled recesses of my pickled little brain. Three days a week of running (sometimes an extra easy day for kicks), with an idea to do some cross training somewhere in there.

Last night, I completed my 17th run on my schedule, and I have 17 more before the Akron Marathon, with a half marathon in there for good measure. That, according to my expert calculations, means I'm halfway done with my training. So far, so good.


Next week will be my peak week. However, I'm done with 20-milers, as the next one I would have done would interfere with the Buckeye Half Marathon, my nemesis and where I plan to crack the 1 hour, 50 minutes barrier. I have one more set of 10 Yasso 800s. And then we'll be in taper mode. It's all happening so fast!

Back Talk
You leave a comment, I wait a couple days while I think of the perfect response.

Apparently, Legs Up leads Xenia to put her mind in the gutter: "I keep forgetting to try the legs up thing. God, that sounds wrong ..."

Answer: I'm glad I continue to inspire you. Yes, Legs Up is exhilarating, but don't stand up too fast or you'll topple over like a souse off a barstool. (Oh, and welcome back.)

Always the classy broad, the erratic epicurean sympathizes with my bowel issues on that fatal fateful 20-miler: "you can take bathroom breaks during a 20 mile run? hmmmm. i guess that is better than shitting yourself."

Answer: True, nobody likes a shitty run.

Trying out her detective skills, Virginia Dressler, another real-life friend of mine, attempts to track down my new track friend: "Was it this guy?"
Answer: If you actually paid attention to my description of my track friend, Ms. Dressler, you would know the answer to your innocuous question. This does not look like a "weirdo, red-headed step-child." It looks like a rhinoceros. Inspector Clouseau, you are not.

Happy Hour shall soon deliver us from our workaday stresses. Have a good weekend, my gentle readers. Run well and drink well.

Motivation Is Good for You

As the 2008 race season is in its infancy, I thought we could all use a little morale boost. Martini sent me this uplifting message from someecards, which provides "ecards for when you care enough to hit send." To those of you preparing for a race, remember that the wall is a construct of the mind. Run through it. And when in doubt, clench.

Good Friends and Good Holiday Wishes

This week has been a particularly good one when it comes to good friends who really know what the Viper is all about. None of them actually reads these ramblings, so the appreciation will fall on the wrong ears. However, I think you might enjoy a small peak into my real life life.

The Viper Rule
My friend's birthday is coming up and his wife is planning a small get together tomorrow. Well, she sent me the following e-mail with the subject line of "The Viper Rule":

"I would like to invite a couple of work friends to the Friday night shindig for [Maurice*], however, I do not want to talk about work.

"I am considering invoking the Viper Rule i.e. if [an Acme Co.**] oriented quip or conversation goes on longer than 1 minute the offending person/people owe you a drink!

"Eh, eh? What do you think, less [Acme Co.**] talk and more booze for you!"

I Can SEE!
Tuesday night, I met up with another friend, who, since we may not see each other again until after the holidays, brought me a present. Well, what would you get for your favorite drunk?

These booze goggles can hold 16 oz. of liquor. Disregard that bottle of beer in the illustration. Only a moron puts beer in a flask. Unless, of course, he's fixin' on drinking Crazy Coronas.

Pardon this interruption while we bring you this fine drinking recipe:

Crazy Corona
Sip off the top of your Corona Extra, add a shot of vodka. [The Viper recommends Hangar One.]

The box for the "barnoculars" is hilarious, as it explains how you can better "enjoy the race," "enjoy the game" or "enjoy the show" with photos of each in case you weren't sure what they meant. For "the game," it shows a golf tournament. Ha! Golf! Who goes to golf tournaments? I guess you'd have to be drunk to enjoy that.

Pardon this interruption while we bring you this George Carlin quote about golf [Warning: foul language afoot]:

"You ever watch golf on TV? It's like watching flies fuck. I get more excited picking out socks. Golf could be an exciting game if you could play it alone. But it's these mental defectives you have to hang around that make it such a boring past time. Think of the brains it takes to play golf. Hitting a ball with a crooked stick and then walking after it. And then, hitting it again. I say, pick it up asshole, you're lucky you found it. Put it in your pocket and go the fuck home!"

OK, fine, yes, I've been to a pro golf tournament. But that was years ago when I didn't know any better. In fact, I was on my junior high school golf team. I gave it up when I realized that I had no desire to add that much frustration to my life. My dad has yet to learn this lesson.

Until Next Year
Well, this will be my last post of the year most likely. I'll be on vacation until Jan. 2, 2008. It goes without saying that I have too much much merry making planned to be getting online to boast of all my stellar runs and hearty recovery.

I wish you all a wonderful religious and secular holiday season. Happy New Year. Thank you for joining the Booze Hounds Running Team. Here's to a fine year of racing, proper recovery, blogging and meeting you fine readers out there on the Intertrons. We'll start off 2008 with a renewed spirit for running and boozing to best of our abilities. Cheers!

[Drunkard note: *Name changed to protect the drunk and innocent. **Name changed to avoid getting sued. Oddly enough, there is a grocery store in my region called Acme, but I assure you this is not the same company. This is the one in all those Merry Melodie cartoons.]