Flashback Friday: Nope, Not Me

I'm trying to use the Enthusiast's motivation to run a half marathon as a stimulus to get out the door myself. As usual, the Ohio winter sneaked up on me, but as I walked Dobson this morning my body started to feel more at ease in the frosty weather.

My silly toe socks have been shipped, and I'm looking forward to closing the gap between where my tights end and my Vibram KSOs start.

It occurs to me now that I could have borrowed my fiancee's leg warmers for this purpose. Then would have been running like a maniac!

How sexy would that be?

Oh well. Lost opportunity.

Back Talk
Wherein you couldn't pick me out of a lineup

Misszippy was hoping she caught a glimpse of me playing the banjo in the recently ended nice weather: "I couldn't get the volume to work so I can't enjoy the pleasure of your banjo! But at least we can finally see what you look like."

Answer: Not unless I shaved my beard and got a different banjo. As Barefoot Johnny O said, that's Barefoot Josh on the gob iron. And David, those are Carolina boys in that video, not Yanks like me. Let this be a lesson to you: Not every banjo player you see online is me. In fact, only one is.

Here's a Yankee banjo player with a name apropos of this blog, Tom Collins: 



I'm getting closer to playing "Breaking Up Christmas" without screwing up. Sunday will be the big test, as I get together with my monthly old-time jam mates.

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

Run Well and Drink Well

Uh-oh. It's time for holiday parties. But how do you escape with your waistline in tact?

I know I said I'd call it a week, but new shit has come to light as I'm now in the middle of an office party. Coworkers have brought in all sorts of fatty foods and sugary treats, and some of us are indulging in the holiday spirits while we reply to important business e-mails.

All these consumables are going to affect my running, either by providing a poor source of fuel or by adding on pounds that will slow me down. How do I indulge without gaining weight and thereby adding minutes to my mile pace?

I have come across this list of high-calorie holiday drinks to avoid and suitable substitutes that will keep you merry without jiggling like a bowl full of jelly. Even my teetotaler readers will find beverages of interest. See how all inclusive I am? I just wish I would have read this before pouring all this bourbon into my eggnog. Cheers!

Good Hydrations: Pickle Martini

A confession: I love dill pickles. And no, that's not a euphemism. I'm the sort of person who will drink the pickle brine. I'm particularly fond of Claussen pickles.

My adoring sister has the same affliction. When we were young, my parents couldn't keep pickles in the house for more than a couple days. And the brine would sometimes disappear before the pickles.

So once upon a time my sister and I were chatting by the liquor cabinet, mixing up a batch of dirty martinis when we started to talk about just how freakin' awesome the martinis would be if we substituted a pickle spear for the olive. Of course, she was out of pickles so it never materialized.

Not until last week.

I had purchased a jar of pickles for the new pad, and by some cosmic happenstance I also had all the fixings for a martini. I went straight to work.

Sadly, my sister was not around to partake in my concoction, but I captured the above photo with my phone and sent it to her.

A pickle martini is a fine post-run beverage, as the alcohol reduces pain and improves confidence. If you would like to have one, try my recipe.

Ingredients:

• Gin (I used Beefeater)
• Dry Vermouth (Martini Rossi)
• Dill Pickles (Claussen)
• The "I" in R.I.C.E.

Procedure:

1. Load up a martini glass with ice to chill
2. Add ice to a shaker (or mixing glass)
3. Pour 1 Tbsp. of dry vermouth into shaker
4. Mix well to coat the ice and strain
5. Remove ice from serving glass
6. Add 1 jigger of gin, 1 Tbsp. of pickle brine to shaker
   
7. Mix well and pour
8. Add half a pickle spear for garnish and serve

I also recommend giving the pickle a squeeze, as it will provide more flavor to the martini, and it will soak up more of the gin for a nice finish. This is one serving, and all amounts are recommendations. Some will like theirs dirtier, or prefer more vermouth.

Cheers!

So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen ...

The Viper will be on holiday for most of the next two weeks without much desire to surf the superwebs, so don't expect much in the way of posting here. I will likely schedule a pre-written item or two, so check back occasionally.

Here's Tom Waits with a very special message ...

A Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis

And now for a recipe to keep you in the spirit until you read me again ...

A Christmas Story
INGREDIENTS:
A Christmas Ale
Goldschlager
Frangelico
Bailey's Irish Creme

MIXOLOGY:
Put that Christmas Ale in a mug and drink half of it (or have your bartender serve you half a mug). Combine one part Goldschlager and one part Bailey's with a splash of Frangelico in a shot glass. Drop shot glass into the mug with the remaining Christmas Ale and drink it down. You'll be feeling merry in no time.

[Drunkard's note: This shooter was created last year by my old friend Burke at the Zephyr Pub in Kent, Ohio. It has since started to spread across the region, making its way to Akron this year.]

Enjoy your holidays, teammates! Run well and drink well. Goodbye for now. Cheers!

Absinthe Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

It made Pablo Picasso paint noses in places where noses don't go. Edgar Allen Poe could never say never more to having one more. One tipple of it made Toulouse Lautrec feel six feet tall when he was four-and-a-half feet small.

The United States banned absinthe in 1912, but now all's well. And apparently all has been well since March 2007, unbeknownst to this researcher. Shows what little I know.

To make up for my gaffe and because 'tis the season, I'd like to present you with this gift, a new recipe. Well, not a recipe per se, but a new drinking ritual.

The Nightmare Before Christmas

Ingredients:

• Patron Silver
• Goldschlager
• Pomegranate liqueur
• Absinthe (Originally, this recipe had creme de menthe for the green coloring.)
• Great Lakes Christmas Ale (If your local supplier does not carry Great Lakes, substitute a Christmas brew of your liking.)

Procedure:
Upon concocting this recipe I realized -- or rather I was told -- that mixing these ingredients would result in a poop brown color, which I thought was perfect. However, upon further distillation of the idea I have decided that these should be drunk (as you should be) in order.

First, because this is also a running blog, you'll want to ensure that your day's run is completed before embarking on the Nightmare Before Christmas. Either that or make it a rest day.

Second, because I don't want to offend anyone, you should know that I respect whatever holiday you celebrate. Your secular or non-secular choices are your own. I don't want a jihad on my site. But today, you're celebrating Christmas. The Nightmare Before Kwanzaa just sounds stupid. And there's no movie to reference there.

Now, let's drink.

Line up one shot each of the spirits and one pint (or 12-ounce bottle) of Christmas Ale. Before you get started, get your hi-fi synced to play the following Christmas tunes in order: "Do You Hear What I Hear," "Deck the Halls," "Holly Jolly Christmas," and "Silent Night."

When you hear in "Do You Hear What I Hear" the line "let us bring him silver and gold," then let your hand bring you Patron Silver and Goldschlager. The line is repeated in case you're slow of throat.

When you hear "deck the halls with boughs of holly," deck your gullet with the red and green of pomegranate liqueur and absinthe.

When you are told to "have a holly jolly Christmas," have a holly jolly Christmas Ale. And I mean you'd better kill it. After all, it is a cup of cheer.

When "Silent Night" whispers in your ear, the shores of Blackout Island will be near.

If that doesn't get you in the holiday spirit, then you're fucked.

[Drunkard's note: Thanks to Gin for the Absinthe information. It is no surprise to get year-old "news" from this lass.]

* * *

Mile Tracker 1,000: 84 miles to go.

Flashback Friday: Hammered

May 18 is shaping up to be another dangerous fiasco. It marks my first big race and the first of this year's drinking challenges.

This all began some time last year with an unofficial contest when Martini and I were discussing how much I despise Shiraz. To which he said if he bought a bottle right now I would drink it. He was right. We drank the bottle glass for glass -- after already having sampled a few beers. During the battle we hatched a series of title bouts.

You might think of these face-offs as our Drunk Olympics.



First, in the event that inspired the very first Flashback Friday, there was the Vodka Challenge. And then, the Mezcal Challenge, which is where for some reason I first started misspelling mescal. Sadly, the challenges died down after that even though this next one was always on the schedule.

The original mind crippling brainstorming session called for a natural progression. First, a bottle of red. Second, a bottle of vodka. Check and check. Third was supposed to be a bottle of red and a bottle of vodka. Otherwise known as the Brutal Hammer.[Drunkard note: Here is some reasoning as to why you might drink a Brutal Hammer.]

The challenge: After I run a sub-1:50 half marathon, Martini and I will go head to head in the Brutal Hammer Bludgeoning of 2008. We will drink these cocktails until the two bottles are gone or until one of us is marooned on Blackout Island!

Week 1
This is the first week of my six-week plan for Cleveland. So far, so good. Well, except for my pacing. But I feel like the effort has been good and I will work myself up to my goals. This weekend will be a long run of 8 miles.

Monday: 30 minutes of core strength exercise, 30 minutes walking
Tuesday: 3 miles at 9:26 pace overall (3x3:38 repeats at hard effort, with equal recovery)
Wednesday: 90 minutes of basketball
Thursday: 4 miles at 9:16 overall (3 miles tempo)
Today: Happy Hour!

OK, Teammates, run well and drink well. Cheers!

Flashback Friday: Learning to Pour

Pouring a beer is a folk art. The technique is passed down through the generations, but in a way it feels almost instinctive. I can't actually remember when I learned how to pour a beer, yet I have this sense of a memory of my father teaching me how to tilt the glass just right and to pour against the glass and then slowly rotate the glass upright to allow for the perfect amount of head.

The man I almost nearly manslaughtered on my way home from work helped me decide not to run last night. The runner, clearly visible with his orange reflective vest, performed a tightrope routine with the snowline along the road, weaving back and forth against the oncoming traffic. I thought about the mess I almost made of this guy and for some reason concluded that I didn't want there to be a stain in the place where there used to be my head.

So when I got home, in the final act of not running, I opened the bag of pretzels I treated myself to last time I went grocery shopping. I nommed on a couple handfuls and thought, Man, these pretzels are making me thirsty.


Luckily, I had not drunk all the beer in my fridge yet.

It doesn't matter how good I get at something, I still somehow manage to screw it up every now and again. I misspell "mispell." I run too fast at the beginning of a race. I don't eat before boozing. Like some brash 17-year-old cadging a bottle of daddy's stash to impress his friends, I poured the Labatt Blue too fast into a frosty glass at the exact incorrect angle. The result, as you may already suspect, was the inverse of the golden ratio between fizzy beer and foamy head.

As I stood there, with this tall glass of foam and a half-empty bag of pretzels, I held a salty twist in my hand and looked at the bungled beer and just you know kind of decided to you know dip it--you know, in the foam.

Sometimes I make dumb mistakes, but sometimes those mistakes lead to some pretty sweet ideas. As Bob Ross might say, it was a happy little mistake.

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.]

Off to See the Gizzard

This will be my last post of the week. The Viper will be on holiday the rest of the week.

Although I may have said so, it appears that the Christmas Ale won't go away without a fight. And a wiser fellow once said, "Sometimes you eat the bar and sometimes, why, he eats you."

And so instead of running last night, there were beer intervals capped off with a sprint session. I have a race tomorrow morning to stumble through, so I doubt I will run tonight. But I feel like I should.

Anyhoo, I have bigger bottles to fry. I shall return Monday several pounds heavier, having raced four miles and hopefully with 20 miles in this week's log. And hopefully, with a still functioning liver.

I leave you with the Booze Hounds official turkey recipe.

Beer Injected Turkey

You will need:

• 1 Turkey, fried (10–12 pounds) or roast (14–16 pounds)
• 12 oz. Oktoberfest or Märzen
• 1 Syringe
• 1 dash Sea salt and black pepper

Then you do this:
Place the turkey in the sink and remove plastic wrap. With cold water running, rinse the inside and outside of the bird well, removing the neck and giblets (reserving for the stock or gravy). Once clean, dry the turkey thoroughly. This is very important, as the drier the bird is the better the skin will be in roasting, and also safer when frying. Place the turkey into a large bowl. Fill the syringe with your beer of choice (Märzen flavors help bring out the natural flavors of the turkey). Locate the center of the right breast, poke the needle through the skin and into the meat and start injecting the bird. Pull the needle from the meat, but keep using the same hole and change direction of the needle and inject again. Do this same procedure 4–5 times on each breast. Repeat this process on each leg and thigh. Season cavity and exterior with salt and pepper. Let turkey marinate for 2–4 hours or overnight in the refrigerator.

And then:
Cook it, duh!

More complete cooking directions and other recipes at the Beer Advocate.

Happy Thanksgiving. Be safe.

Happy Hour -vs.- Running

We at the BHI Running Team like to promote an action-merits-reward training program. A healthy booze session following a good, hard run is the perfect recovery. As we like to say, booze reduces soreness and improves confidence. It's obvious that boozing and running go hand in hand. However, there are some occasions when you just can't do both.

A common scenario is near the end of a work day. As a night runner, I will usually plan on heading home to change into my fast clothes and knock out a few miles before darkness envelopes the streets. But around 4:42 some coworker sends a desperate blast e-mail:

All,
If I don't have a drink soon, I'm going to turn this &#(%-ing office into a pile of blood. Thirsty?

Now, the dilemma: Do I forsake my comrade and ignore his plea for help? Or do I skip my run and go for a quick nip? Many times this equation has vexed me -- as I'm sure it has you. But fear not, teammates, we have the solution! Here are a few ways to avoid the guilt involved when forced to make this cruel decision ...

Take your speed work to the bar: Shots are the perfect replacement for sprints. Do enough of them and your body will feel comparably shredded. Your shot selection should reflect your training level. Ruby Slippers for the newbie. Irish Whisky for the more competitive sprinters. If you'd like to fly like an Olympian, try on these racing flats for size: one part Mezcal, one part Absinthe, chill, zang!

Is today an endurance day? Try beer intervals: I can chug a 22 oz. in about 5:27. If I can maintain that pace, I know I'll be in good shape. For a real challenge, go for negative splits.

Long runs are tough to replace. Tough, but not impossible. Swapping the long run for the long shift requires you to double the time it would take to complete the scheduled distance. You may not have enough time to get this session in after a work day. And if you do, you probably won't make it in tomorrow. Plan accordingly.

There is always the option of running to the bar. You'll need to stop in the bathroom for a quick sink bath. And good luck getting home. Make sure to have a ready comeback when some smartypants asks, What's with the get-up? At the very least, wear your running shoes to the pub to help the session go faster. Your mantra shall be, Light and effortless. Let the booze do the work.

[Drunkard note: I know what you're thinking 9:43 a.m.? Isn't that a little early to be thinking about booze? You're at the wrong site if you thought I'd say yes.]

Akron Marathon Preview: One Day

The marathon is tomorrow. Expect a race report sometime afterward -- barring death. Bill Rodgers is in town for the race, which is pretty sweet. I haven't run since Monday, so I hope my ankle is ready. The Booze Hounds Running Team is dry and prepared for fluid replacement. Our colleagues in drunkery have staked out a spot along the course to provide a special BHI-sponsored fluid stop, complete with drunken fans and a special runners' cocktail. I'll be sure to report how well Martini and I finish those final four miles with a shot of vodka in the tank.

The Runner's Cocktail
When in the heat of battle, the runner knows that each stride counts. The Booze Hound Running Team member also knows just how important proper hydration is. But sometimes, he needs to replace some electrolytes too.

One part vodka
One part sports drink [Drunkard note: Martini and I have chosen Vitamin Water]

Pre-mix, sprint, sip and enjoy. When racing, have good friends stationed strategically to hand out beverage for the home stretch. Once the body starts digesting again, you'll already be a leg up on post-race festivities.

Flashback Friday
Last Friday, in a very long post that I'll save you from reading again, I mentioned that I don't run on treadmills. Vanilla at Half-Fast has a few good reasons why you shouldn't either. He also reinforces why I don't own a video camera.

Lessons from the Street

Sometimes budget constraints lead us drunks toward less savory adventures in boozing. Often, cheap beer is the first choice. But what are we missing when we decide an 18-pack of Miller High Life cans is just what Dr. Penny Pincher ordered? For the answer, we should consult our greatest yet overlooked resource in alcoholism on the cheap: winos.

These degenerates embrace the fact that they can't afford that sixer of high-octane indie brew. While we so-called sophisticated booze hounds would look for the option that saves face, the wino chooses the option that gets them shit-faced.

Often, their choice is malt liquor or fortified wine. One of my favorite inventions is the energy drink cum malt liquor, such as Sparks. This 6 percent ABV beverage combines the effects of caffeine and alcohol with all the flavor of cherry battery acid. A perfect companion for the drunkard who has some late night romping to do.

However, a new beverage mixture has just come through on the booze wires. My colleagues, I introduce you to Fhrampagne. Thank you, J.J. Maher, this recipe sounds delightful: a combo that brings malt liquor and fortified wine together. In this example is MD 20/20 and Steel Reserve. The ideas just spring to my head. Boone's Farm and St. Ides. Ripple and Colt .45. But wait! Let's take it one step further: Night Train and Sparks. I shall call it, the Red Line Express.

You're welcome.

Beer Run
Last weekend, I ran a 10K the morning after a happy hour gathering. My tab showed six beers, plus all the delicious Coors Light I had at the post-happy hour festivities. In past races, I've abstained from drinking the night before to improve my speed. This time, I didn't' and placed second in my age group with a 53:21 finish. Perhaps I'm on to something.

Tab: It's been too long since the last post to calculate.
Mileage: See above.

A Recipe to Make You Rise Up

In honor of tonight's NBA playoffs game five between the Cleveland Cavaliers and New Jersey Nets, BHI brings you this dead-nuts-on clutch shooter.

The LeBomb James
A shooter of Crown Royal, colored with a drop of grenadine.

Three ounces of Sprite colored with a couple dashes of bitters, in a mug.

Notes on the ingredients: The grenadine in the Crown Royal will turn it a nice wine color, and the bitters will give the Sprite a golden hue. There you have the Cavs colors of wine and gold. Why these choices? Crown Royal for King James, and he endorses Sprite. I have to give credit to Mikey at the Zephyr in Kent, Ohio, for the recipe.

This is a drop shot. So take it to the hole with authority. Ally-oop the shot to the mug and, "Wham with the right hand!"

Obviously, you know where my loyalties lie. Go Cavs!

[Photo ripped from Cavs.com.]