The first long run of this training season is officially in the books. It’s done. And the one thing that I learned? Well, not really learned, but was reminded … don’t be a dumbass. Don’t pretend like you can just wake up on Saturday morning and run 12 miles without fueling. You can, but it sucks. A lot. And you feel like you want to pass out. Luckily, though, despite my stupidity yesterday morning, I didn’t pass out. Just remember, kids, a granola bar and cup of yogurt do not count as pre-run fuel when you really don’t eat anything a day earlier.
The run ended up taking us two hours, which isn’t too bad for a long run. Though, I was surprised to see that our last two miles were the fastest–particularly since I felt like Death.
Miles 1 through 2 — 20:20
Miles 3 through 6 — 40:17 (I forgot to hit the lap button on my watch at the 4 mile marker)
Miles 6 through 8 — 20:11
Miles 8 through 10 — 20:07
Miles 10 through 12 — 19:03
Tomorrow, we have 8 miles with 10x100m strides.
Now … to the “fun” part of our weekend. Cleaning. It’s dawned on us several times in the past week that this wedding thing is slowly getting closer and closer … and that we should probably consider making sure that everything is in order. Both for the wedding and for my eventual move in to Sarah’s apartment. As Sarah kicked ass cleaning out her closet (begrudingly making room for my clothes) and other areas of the apartment, I cleaned the bathroom and kitchen, filed papers, etc. We managed to accomplish quite a bit in about a day and a half, but still have a lot to do. If any one is free and wants to help, I have no money to pay you, but am willing to give you a hardy handshake and my utmost gratitude. Just give me a ring. Really.
One last note: I’d also like to add that I am extremely grateful for Sarah cleaning her closets and making room for my stuff. I know it stresses her out. That is all.
March 1st. It’s Sarah’s birthday. So one last time … HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY! As she’s done for the past several years, Sarah spent her birthday among friends. Three years ago, she traveled to Chicago (for our first date). Last year, she visited Minnesota (more on that later). And this year, it was Philly. I only bring this up because of it’s significance. You see, March 1st is also the day I asked Sarah’s dad for his permission to marry her.
March 1, 2008. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Sarah was going out of town for her birthday, giving me the chance to drive to Michigan to talk to her dad. I didn’t have a car, so I had to ask Sarah if I could borrow her’s, and as a byproduct, I had to tell her why I needed her car. We had discussed getting married before, so the fact that I wanted to talk to her dad came as no surprise.
I remember the day quite well: I woke up early to get on the road (her dad offered to meet me half-way at her brother’s–from there, we could go grab lunch); I got lost and had to call Sarah to determine exactly which town her brother lived in–is it Holland or Jenison?; we (her dad and I) got lost on the way to the restaurant; I remember what we ate, what we drank; his words of words of approval and his advice. I remember it all.
March 1. It’ll always be a great day. The day that Sarah was born, and the day that Mr. Brittain said “I feel good about this thing.” So do I.
Sarah’s in Philly this weekend visiting friends, and as a result, I’m blogging at 12:30 a.m. It’s amazing. If she’s here, I’d have been asleep for two-plus hours and well rested tomorrow. Instead, my dumbass is up late and will be tired in the morning. Damn my loss of direction with her gone. Anyways, on to my ramblings…
Today was a good day. The highlight came at noon, which is typically not the case, as Sarah and I toured a hotel we’re considering for our guests. While the hotel isn’t quite done yet, the staff was willing to show us around (which was great), and after the tour, we were sold (though we still need to work out details). The rest of the day was pretty ho-hum by comparison, until I headed home to go run. I debated whether or not to go run (it was raining pretty hard outside) for about 10 minutes or so as I mapped out my route. My running clothes were on and my shoes were tied, but one obstacle was in my way. I was sitting on the couch. Couch and TV. Or running in the rain? Couch and TV. Running in the rain? It would seem like a no-brainer. Hell, once I realized that last week’s episode of BSG was available for viewing On-Demand, the smart bet would have been on my lazy ass staying on that couch. But I didn’t. Surprisingly, I ran.
I was supposed to do 10 miles according to my training plan. Then Sarah and I talked about running 8 miles this morning together (following her plan), but we decided to sleep in instead. So I began with 10 miles, which went to 8 miles, and then 8 went to nothing. Well, until I got off the couch and ran that is. Even with a thunderstorm moving threw (I just found out it was record setting rain), I ran and I ran hard. Six miles in 54 minutes, and it felt good. It felt great actually. I ran through puddles of ankle to knee high water in places, and I was absolutely drenched. I’m sure it’s only a fraction of water and mud Sarah has described with DWD, but still, it was a great way to spend an evening.
Great day. Great evening. Now … time for bed.
With wedding planning slowly becoming a day-to-day thought–consuming its own corner in my mind–I often find myself reading “stuff” online. Generally, it’s random articles and posts about “must haves” and “things to avoid” at your wedding. Some articles seem to be useless while others have really good insight, and in most cases, each has provided a bit of humor. Anyways, I was checking my useless Hotmail account this morning (while I should have been paying attention at a seminar) and found something on four “must have traditions” that I wanted to share. Well, I’ll share two parts that made me laugh. This originally ran on brides.com it looks like, but I found the entire article on MSNBC here.
The open bar
… Besides, you don’t want to be known as a closed-bar wedding. You could host an elaborate ceremony on a scenic Hawaiian bluff with the Rev. Jesse Jackson presiding as the bride and groom parachute from a B-52 Stratofortress while Yo-Yo Ma and Kid Rock perform a breathtaking duet and, if you don’t provide free booze, the only thing any guy in attendance will say about that day is, “Dude, closed bar.”
Best man’s speech
Everyone always listens during the best man’s speech. I mean really listens. Uncles who don’t listen to aunts, teens who don’t listen to parents, old people who don’t listen to doctors — they all pay real close attention when the best man speaks. It’s so quiet you can actually hear the DJ fantasizing about his sweet Trans-Am. Yes, it’s that quiet.
As Sarah announced in her post yesterday … we’re engaged! The thought has been in my mind for some time now, and after driving up to Michigan to talk to her father two weeks ago, I decided I couldn’t wait any longer and popped the question following a brief business trip. Life is fantastic.
Annnnyways, with the St. Patrick’s Day celebration going on today in Chicago, Sarah and I woke up early to get our 13 mile run in. It actually ended up being more like 12.5 miles, but really, who cares? It was actually quite nice, minus a brief stop at the restrooms, and despite my fear last night, the weather was MUCH better than I had anticipated. It was in the mid to low 30s, but the wind was nowhere near as bad as it might have been.
After the run, we headed downtown to meet up with a few friends, see the greenness of the river and watch the parade, and while the river was indeed a bright, bright green … the parade was extremely disappointing. In fact, I’d go so far as to say the parade was crappy and a waste of my leg energy. I envisioned floats, bagpipes, etc … and instead, I saw a bunch of people walking in between a few things they called “floats,” most of which were filled with teenage, Shirley Temple-looking girls who made me cringe rather than jump and say “woooo whooo … it’s St. Patrick’s Day!” So we abandoned the parade, and instead went and paid for small, overpriced green beer. Ahhhh … St. Patrick’s Day.