Accidentally Drunk

Finally, Acme No. 1 put in a growler station like the rest of the stores in the local grocery chain. As were we headed to our friends' house for some "grillin' and chillin,'" as the man says, Mrs. Viper and I stopped to fill up a jug of tasty beer.

There were no descriptions of the beers on tap, so I went on reputation, choosing Stone's Sublimely Self-Righteous Ale, a dark, hop-filled, bitter brew that was originally crafted as the brewery's 11th Anniversary Ale.

It had been far too long since we had all gotten together, and the beer went down nicely, though a bit heavy on the bitterness. Still, half the jug was missing when we said our goodbyes.

At home, I poured a small nightcap, as my lovely wife and I watched some TV. I was feeling loose and giggly, even having submitted to watching the two-hour episode of Glee. Afterward, during reruns of The Big Bang Theory, I drifted off to sleep.

We eventually headed upstairs to the bedroom. My head felt a bit woozy. It didn't seem like I drank that much.

Just this morning, I discovered that the Sublimely Self-Righteous Ale packs an 8.7 percent ABV. So that's why my legs were wobbly going up to bed ...

One of Those Recap Posts That You Skim Over and Leave a Comment like 'Sounds Fun'

UPDATED: 10:34 a.m. on 12/2/09

Let's not talk about the extra baggage apparent in this morning's weight check, but instead consider how the 21 miles I ran from Thursday to Sunday did not counteract the foods and beverages I packed in over that same period.

Thursday: The Enthusiast and I ran three miles together and then I tacked on another four miles before we went to eat.
Miles: 7
Menu: Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, Brussels sprouts with pancetta, pecan pie with Cool Whip, Laphroaig, Great Lakes Christmas Ale

Friday: A six-miler before a "friends Thanksgiving."
Miles: 6
Menu: More turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, salad, cupcake, Bell's Sparkling Ale, Great Divide Hibernation Ale

[Drunkard's note: Apparently, I was too drunk to recall that I also had some Peanut Butter Cup Coffee Porter from Willoughby Brewing Co.]

Saturday: Friends over for dinner, but no running because I wanted to play my banjo instead.
Miles: Does old-time banjo count as cross training?
Menu: Roasted chicken, artichokes, potatoes, salad, German chocolate cake, Hibernation Ale, Sparkling Ale, Great Lakes Edmund Fitzgerald

Sunday: First longish run in ages before a birthday celebration with cake and dinner with leftover pie.
Miles: 8
Menu: Deli sandwiches, various appetizers, birthday cake, pork tenderloin, potatoes, peas (ick!) with mushrooms (yum!), pecan pie with Cool Whip, Laphroaig

I guess I don't need to concentrate on adding winter weight.

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.

Race Report: Wet Dreams

[Photo courtesy of the Cleveland Plain Dealer and Cleveland.com.]

Any race day that ends with me asleep on my couch is a good race day. However, I was 4 minutes and 49 seconds shy of my goal. I blame the jackass weather guy who wouldn't change his mind about Sunday's high 50s and showers.

Now, for my non-bullety, non-mile-by-mile breakdown of the Cleveland Half Marathon.

Pregame Show
My boss decided to taunt me Friday evening by having what he called a "beer blast" to end the day in celebration for a job well done. I toughed it out. However, to relieve that tension and to make up for missing Happy Hour drinks on Friday, I went to the store to select my post-race beers. I knew I would need something powerful after the race, having been in detox since Wednesday.

Enter Delirium Tremens. How could I not pick that? I am not usually a fan of Belgian ales, but 9 percent ABV is a very convincing argument. Next, I knew I would need something refreshing, which to me is lager. I chose Lager of the Lakes -- another serendipitous name -- from Bell's Brewery. With proper post-race fluids in stock, I was able to rest well for the remainder of the weekend.

As predicted, I woke up a few minutes before my alarm. However, it was not because I was anxious, but because a throng of drunkards with no regard for my racing schedule arrived home with a clatter. I snoozed for another half hour before doing all those things I said I'd do.

I felt good, despite the torrential rain.

Gearing Up
I fear not the rain. I have yet to wear rain gear at races. Not even a trash bag. I wore my new dark red New Balance tech shirt (I also fear not new clothing), the color of which is described as "Don't Wine," a nice double entendre. Or is that a triple (color, booze, complain) entendre? My shorts were my silver-gray C9 shorts (very light and fast drying). After careful deliberation, I wore my Brooks for the first time in a race.

The Start
The race began about five minutes behind schedule, which was a really nice way to get acclimated to the cold rain that fell incessantly for the first few miles. We runners don't hear much about the pre-race cool down, but I think it's a practice far too rare.

Puddle Avoidance
The last time I raced in the rain, I had one of my worst race experiences ever. Although it taught me many lessons, I was so miserable during that race to think about the puddles. Sunday, I skirted and skipped past puddles with brilliance.

Until about Mile 7, when my right foot stomped dead-center into a shoe drencher. (Can you guess which word came out of my mouth?)

Oddly enough, my splits show that my pace gradually slowed after that puddle as a blister formed on the ball of the offending foot.

More Avoidance
My slowdown seems to coincide with two events. The first was that puddle. The second was the one cup of Powerade I grabbed.

I don't know why I did it. I was doing just fine with water. I'm starting to think that electrolyte drinks are unnecessary. At the Buckeye Half Marathon last year I got sick at the finish and the only thing that came up was Gatorade. In fact, my plan was to drink only water, but I wasn't mentally tough enough to stick to my race strategy.

Race Plan Breakdown
I mismanaged my in-race hydration, and I also got away from my run/walk plan. At the final stages of my training, I walked for one minute after every 2 miles running to spare my knee. After consulting the race map, I decided to go with a minute walk every 5K, which appeared to coincide with every other water stop starting with the first. However, the water-stop placement was not as advertised. I got confused and lost track of my breaks after the first 10K or so. My plan was in tatters. (Hmm, also around Mile 7.)

Where'd My Kick Go?
I am typically a good finisher. I can push myself sickeningly hard and hold myself together just long enough to avoid puking before crossing the finish line. However, I just didn't have much to work with at the end. Whereas I can usually pick up the pace at about 800 meters and really go all out for the final 400 meters, this time there was nothing there. The combination of the blister my breakdown in strategy had finished me.

Ho Hum
All that aside, I had a great day and PR'd by a minute and 21 seconds. (That's 1:54:49 for those keeping score at home.) My knee didn't bother me at all during the race (though it is a bit fatigued today). The sun came out before I left the finishing corral to warm me up. I wisely brought dry clothes so I could change and enjoy some of the festivities. And I got to congratulate my friend for finally BQ-ing.

Post-Race Revelry
The first thing I did when I got home was cure my DT's with the Delirium Tremens. As far as Belgium ales go, it was pretty tasty. Before I could break into the Bell's Lager, my stomach urged me to get some food. I headed out for a giant gyro and many pints of LaBatt Blue while the Celtics gave me another reason to dislike Boston. Along the way to Blackout Island, I also had some Great Lakes Dortmunder and Harp before passing out falling asleep on my couch with an ice pack on my knee. I'll tackle the Bell's tonight.

Other Cleveland Race News
Hey, rookies, here's why you don't race with your wallet on you.

Cheers.

Bullety MonDaze

Thanks to everyone who stopped by in honor of my one-year anniversary. I hope you enjoyed the flashbacks. To celebrate the occasion Team BHI got off the wagon and ignored the pre-race detox plan like a good little drunk. As punishment, my 8 miles on Sunday were hungover and in the rain.

I'm not feeling cohesive today, so you'll have to deal with my list mentality. Let the bullets fly:

• OK, seriously, what do you think of this new layout? Xenia says it's more cheerful than she imagines I am, which admittedly is a valid point. I only picked it because it's called "Snapshot Tequila." For some reason it spoke to me. Give me your thoughts, now!
• All this tapering makes me want to punch babies.
• The Viper is a cheapskate conscientious shopper. Today, I ordered a new pair of shoes, two tech shirts and a pair of shorts for less than $90 from Joe's New Balance Outlet. There you will find some choice prices on last year's inventory. (Vanilla, I think even you'll find something compelling.)
  
• Decisions, decisions ... speaking of shoes, I don't know which shoes to wear during the Cleveland Half Marathon. I've only raced in New Balance, but last year I got a pair of Brooks Adrenaline GTS 7 (for free!) after the Akron Marathon. The Brooks have proven to be a worthy alternate. Do I stay in my comfort zone and wear my New Balance 767s or do I go all variety-is-the-spice-of-life and wear the Brooks?
• Does the above point make me a shill?
  
• I was half a pound heavier than my goal race weight at this morning's weigh-in. Without my high mileage, I have to be extra disciplined about my food and booze intake this week.
  
• The Cavs play the Celtics tonight in Game 4 of the Eastern Conference Semi-Finals. That won't encourage me to drink or anything.
  
• Can anyone say "liquid diet"?
  
• It seems a bunch of people raced this weekend. (I see Amy and Chia and Laminator and Laura and Marcy and Nitmos and Razzdoodle and Topher and Vanilla and Xenia. And probably about a zillion others I'm too lazy to find.) Many of you took part in Nancy's 10K on the 10th, another stellar virtual event. I'm tapering, so the 10th was a rest day. I did 8 miles on the 9th and 8 miles on the 11th instead. Besides, I heard no beer was provided. No beer = no Viper. But great job, virtual racers! You're all virtual winners!
  
• On a completely non-running, non-boozing note: As most of you dear readers are also fellow bloggers, I figure you must have some interest -- if only a fleeting one -- in writing mechanics. Renowned writing coach Roy Peter Clark of the Poynter Institute has begun a new book called the "The Glamour of Grammar" as a follow-up to "Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies for Every Writer." I'm not afraid to admit I've had a man-crush on Mr. Clark since my college days. Visit his Writing Tools blog on Tuesdays and Thursdays to read segments of the new book as he writes them.
  

Tales Out of School

Fine, I don't quit. I did say it was a fabled moment of clarity.

Gentle readers, you are too clever to fall for my April Fools ruse. That, or my utter lack of respect for your powers of observation bit me in the ass when I used the "bald face lies" tag.

Ohionative must be a real Ohio native. Akron, Ohio, has the sort of dreary disposition that demands you seek salvation at the bottom of a bottle. There's no way I'm staying dry here.

Just take a look at Akron's cultural contributions over past few decades. Chrissie Hynde still loves to whine about the city she abandoned being gone. Devo's apocalyptic vision of society was honed here. Everybody's favorite fuzz blues band, the Black Keys, got bummed out here. If you want to get down, we know how to get down.

Alcoholics Anonymous was established here with good reason. Akron is a mecca for drunks and former drunks alike. Every June a throng of motorcycled teetotalers speed down my street on their way to see Dr. Bob's house during a three-day celebration they call Founder's Day.

The fact that Akron is home to the Goodyear blimp seems like some sort of sick joke.

No, I will not be corking the bottle. And therefore I also won't be changing a darned thing about this blog or bore you with my banjo practice sessions (one hour yesterday evening before ... wait for it ... going to the bar for a nightcap).

Signed and Driven
I actually had news to report yesterday, but instead I wanted to waste your time. So here it is: I signed up for my next race. I'll be running the Cleveland (half) Marathon again on May 18. I'm already a little behind on my training. Awesome.

You're a Wuss and Here's Why
This guy is making you look bad and he can't even see that slack-jawed look on your face as you watch him run seven marathons in seven days. However, I'm right on top of this hard-ass. I ran three miles in the last three days.

Cheers!

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.

Idiot Runner Is No Idiot

As you surely know, I am a fountain of running knowhow. Perusing the Information Super Highways for sage-like running wisdom is surely how you stumbled across the online home of the Booze Hounds Running Team.

You know that if you need training advice, this is the place to come for timely tips. I'm like your own personal, imaginary running partner, who is also super helpful in a very awesome way. That's why I am shocked -- as you too will be -- to learn that one of you (I'm not naming names or anything) found this uber relevant blog by Googling "Marathon Training for Idiots."

As I write this, Team BHI appears as the 31st result when searching for this phrase, so whoever this person is (you S.O.B.) had to do some digging to find me. Marathon training for idiots? Horsefeathers! I do not give advice to idiots. I also am not now nor have I ever been an idiot. I'm a drunk. Get it straight.

[Drunkard note: Last night's regularly schedule run was canceled due to Happy Hour.]

Akron Marathon Preview: Detox Special

And so the real training begins. As the Team Booze Hounds training manual dictates, runners shall go undrunk one week prior to a race. These are the rules. I just follow them.

In order to prep my mind, body and spirit for the long week ahead, this weekend I took a trip to Black Out Island. I had stayed away too long. I was invited to a six-kegger, post-wedding bash out in the middle of nowhere. Countless beers, the strongest Jell-o shots I ever tasted and even a sip of white lightening sent me stumbling on the dance floor and crashing on a foreign couch.

As we all know, marathon drinking just won't get along with marathon training. Thankfully, I decided there would be no running this weekend. I was, uh, resting.

Now, as we begin this final week of training minus the booze, the minutes will flee from my mile pace like underage kids when the cops show up to the party.

Marathon Countdown: 5 days

A Day Off

Well, I decided to take that extra day after all. I waffled on the decision all day, finally teetering toward the no-run-please side when I received and invitation to booze. I bolstered my recovery when I got home by icing and rewrapping my ankle. I boosted my immune system with the purchase of two containers of OJ (Simply Orange, I recommend it) before I went to the Captain's for some beers and baseball. (The Cleveland Indians are now five wins or Detroit Tigers' losses away from clinching the American League Central Division, wahoo!)

I still woke up with a sore throat and sniffles (should have taken the whiskey cure), but my ankle is feeling much better. I'll see if Martini wants to go for 6 miles or so this evening and get back at it.

Booze News
And so you can't afford gas, your stocks have bottomed out and your paycheck just ain't cutting it in today's sketchy market. That doesn't mean you can't afford to drink well. CNN reports that upscale booze sales are still strong during these hard times. Not really a shocker.

"You can go to a bar and have a pleasurable drink and it's going to cost you $2 or $3 more." [...] "It's not going to break you."

Amen.

Run, Eat, Booze, Cash, Sleep

I can barely see straight to write this blog. The office coffee, as usual, is weaker than my ability to come up with a proper analogy. The brown water is only good for coating my mouth with a bad taste. And I already had that this morning when I woke up after five hours of sleep and a night spent swilling beer at a bar soon to close because it's been robbed three times this year, the last when the thief somehow managed to scale the building and come in through the roof-top patio.

This is the last weekend for the bar and music venue and last night was its fourth annual Cash-a-thon, a tribute as you might guess to Johnny Cash. I don't know how much they were selling the beer for or if the bartenders just didn't know my name, but I made it out of there on the cheap and all the while bought for two.

The evening was a nice respite from this week.

Yesterday, I again worked late, which meant I had to again cut short my planned run because that sun keeps going down earlier and earlier. I ran eight miles through death valley, but I wanted to do 10. I got home and stuffed my face full of cereal, showered and then made some pasta and drank a beer from the fridge.

I was supposed to meet the archivist at 9 p.m. I stuck my unfinished beer and a spare in my pockets and walked over to her house, where we pre-lubricated to save monies at the bar and waited for Martini to join us. I was ready to rock and roll, but I had just enough self control to realize that I need to get some work done today. As you can plainly see.




Expect a race report Monday. I will be running the Buckeye Half Marathon, which just to torture me will pass by my office. However, it will also pass by the bar I frequent after work and sometimes for lunch. Perhaps it will also be a fluid stop.