Stealth Racing

I've been in a diet and exercise slump lately. I've seriously slacked off on the workouts, doing one or two per week instead of three or four, and I leave out the weights as often as I include them after running. I've been walking more, and rarely even shooting for a full 10K. At the same time, I've been pouring an excessive number of calories into my belly and not even tracking exactly how many it is.

I'm grateful that I've found running, though. Having events like that list of 5Ks, 10Ks, Warrior Dashes, etc. to the right over there has helped keep me going. Where in the past, this down cycle would have seen me gaining back all of the 30 or 40 pounds that I've lost, this time I've only gained 6. I hadn't been on the scale in a while, because I didn't want to know how bad it was, but when I weighed this morning, it wasn't a disaster. That gave me a boost. I don't know how I'm going to re-focus and get back to two 5Ks and one 10K each week, improving times and increasing inclines as I was when I had the half marathon looming over me, but it made me glad that I haven't completely torpedoed everything.

And here's another boost: I was running on the treadmill at the gym this morning, watching Mission: Impossible III on my Kindle Fire. What with all the explosions and gunfire in my headphones, I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I did notice when a lady stopped in front of the treadmill next to mine and chatted for a minute with the fit-looking woman who was running on it. The runner jerked her head toward me, and I heard her say, "...this guy..."

I thought, "I wonder what I did? Did I splatter sweat on her?" And I kept running.

I kept watching my movie. When she finished her workout, the runner who called me "that guy" tapped me on the shoulder. I paused the movie just as Ethan Hunt was about to get electrocuted by his wife. She said, "No, don't stop. I just wanted to tell you that you really challenged me for a great run. Thanks!" It felt wonderful hearing her say that because she looked like a runner. I look nothing like one.

I didn't even know we were racing!

Warrior Dash

I signed up for Longhorn Run last May to motivate myself to work out harder, thinking I had little chance of actually completing it, or at least completing it without walking some part of the course. I surprised myself by succeeding, and of course, I immediately stopped working out and lost most of my fitness and endurance.

So I signed up for Warrior Dash to motivate myself to work out harder. I seriously underestimated how tough it would be, though. I thought, "It's just a 5K; I've already done a 10K. How hard could it be?" and I didn't train nearly as hard for this one as I did for the Longhorn Run.

Here I am approaching the finish, trying to look like I still have some spring in my step, but I was seriously dragging:



The difference was the terrain and the obstacles. Somehow I'd convinced myself that there were only 3 or 4 obstacles, and that they were mostly for entertainment value, since the event seems largely about the silly costumes many participants wear and the beer and turkey legs to be had on the other side of the finish line. It turns out that some of those obstacles, like high-stepping through a field of tires and climbing a pyramid of hay bales and scaling cargo nets, were downright tough. There weren't any long hills, but there were lots of little ones, as well as some slick, steep creek beds to navigate.

I trained mostly by running on the treadmill, with some weights thrown in here and there and an occasional outdoor run. My running strategy has been to find a nice, steady, sustainable pace and focus on my breathing. On this course, though, with all of the up-and-down, and the broken ground, and the 11 obstacles interspersed throughout, I couldn't find my pace. I couldn't steady my breathing. I was winded all the way and did much more walking than I anticipated.

My oldest brother ran the course with me. He said that he's never been much of a runner, preferring biking and softball. When I talked about running a 35-minute 5K, he acted like I was nuts if I thought he was going to be able to keep up with a pace like that. But throughout the course, he was well ahead of me, and while he got winded here and there, I think most of the time he spent walking was for my benefit. Here he is waiting for me to finish the third-to-last obstacle:



In the end, I wasn't as proud of my performance (though at the time I'm writing this, official results have not yet been released) as I was after the Longhorn Run. But I feel more motivated moving forward than I did then. Both of my brothers, several friends, and Aerie are all talking about running another one in the Dallas area in April, and there is no doubt in my mind that I'm going to have to step up my training significantly over the next 5 months if I'm going to be proud of myself when I stagger up out of the mud the next time.



The other great thing about Warrior Dash was the after party. Thumper had a blast. He and his cousin danced their butts off and charmed all of the ladies within a 50-foot radius. They did the Cupid Shuffle:



And the Macarena:



And, uh, whatever this is:



And with everyone else showing off their bodies:



He just couldn't resist showing off a little himself:



I'm not sure what was up with the shoes, though:

And I Ran; I Ran So Far Away

I ran my first official 10K today! I ran the whole way, without stopping or walking! As a wheezy, gray-bearded man overweight by a good fifty pounds, this fact is still a little stunning to me.

It was the Longhorn Run, and it was a beautiful day for it, overcast and cool with no rain. It was a beautiful course, too, running all through campus and finishing in Darrell K Royal-Texas Memorial Stadium.

It was a thrilling feeling standing at the start with 2,500 other orange-clad runners (me, a runner! weird...) and hearing the University president fire the cannon to start us on our way. I tried to run at a pace that felt familiar from the few practice 10Ks I've run working my way up to today and not worry too much about what other runners were doing. My biggest worry was that my practice route was fairly flat, and I didn't know how much up and down I'd have to do on this course.

I loved being part of an event that was big enough to shut down traffic. We meandered through tree-lined West Campus, where a volunteer stood next to sign that told us we had just passed 1,589 yards, the total rushing yards Colt McCoy ran for during his career at UT. There were also signs marking the 3-mile and 6-mile points, but I was glad that there weren't more regular landmarks; it freed me from worrying about how much distance was left and made it easier to just run and forget about comparing my performance with previous runs. I just ran at a pace that felt good.

And I was passing people! And I kept running when other people stopped to walk!

I had pretty much zoned out by the time we made the turn from San Jacinto onto 24th, but I heard the runner next to me say, "Oh, shit." I looked up the hill toward Speedway and remembered getting out of breath carrying Thumper up that same hill on the way to an ill-fated business meeting a few months ago. But I told myself to just keep moving, and I did. And I didn't die!

When we turned from Speedway onto 21st, we were looking down the hill at the southwest corner of the stadium. My heart leaped, knowing that we would enter the stadium at the southwest corner to finish. I wanted to sprint down that hill, but I thought there might be some stairs to run up to get us to field level, so I kept my pace. I'm glad I did, because part way down the hill, it became apparent that runners were turning left at the bottom, not right. We would enter at the southwest, but we would have to run a lap around the stadium first.

It was a good thing I didn't take that sprint after all, because the hardest part of the course was just ahead. Turning from San Jacinto onto 23rd, we were looking up the steepest hill on the course. Appropriately, its apex was at Robert Dedman. I imagined course planners chuckling at the irony of the name. Many people walked up that hill, and many walked after that hill, but again, I told myself to just keep moving. And I did. And I didn't die!

At that point, runners who'd already finished had come back down the course to cheer us on. "You can do it! Looking good! That was the last hill; you're almost there!" I felt great. I couldn't wait to run through the tunnel at the south end and burst out beneath the scoreboard, crossing the finish line and stepping out onto the field to the joyful cheers of friends, family, and my fellow runners. I pictured it something like this, with smoke and music and video montage and all (jump to around 2:10 if you're the impatient sort).

But no, it wasn't quite like that. We crossed the finish line at the entrance to the tunnel, then sort of just dribbled out onto the field, where we were directed up and out again to where water, fruit, and a live band awaited us. I thought the post-race festivities would be happening on the field, but I suppose I can understand their desire to protect their million-dollar grass and hustle us away from it as soon as possible. I also didn't wear a watch. I looked at the scoreboard to see if the official race time would be ticking along up there, but alas, it wasn't. And I didn't have the presence of mind to ask anybody what time it was, so I don't know how I did relative to my previous personal best of 1:09. We ran with microchips on our shoes, though, which we turned in at the end of the race, so hopefully results will be posted online somewhere.

Then I came home, ate a lunch lovingly prepared by my wife, and played Play Doh with Thumper. The End.



UPDATE! I finished in 1:01:44! Woo hoo!

Gauntlet Thrown

Mrs. Rodius here. My darling husband sooo wanted me to take the typing test because he was CERTAIN I could not beat him. Alas, 'tis true.

IN MY DEFENSE:

I have a handicap here at home because we don't have a split keyboard like I do at work and that slows me down. These teeny keyboards are a pest in the butt. And so, I admit defeat.

ADMISSION:

My darling Rodius, you are faster than me even when I have a keyboard I'm comfortable with, and I'm OKAY with that. I'm not nearly as competitive as you are...at least when it comes to games, contests or sports. You ARE a speed demon. This is the best I can do:

91 words

Speed test

REALITY:

My IQ is still 2 points higher than yours and you have yet to beat my high score on Soda Pipes.

FRIENDLY REMINDER:

Speed isn't everything. There's something to be said for a slow, steady pace. Nudge, nudge. Wink, wink.