Coming clean

I didn’t run the race Sunday because I was hungover.

Oops!

It’s actually funny (or karma) that I was just a week or so ago reading a post by the No Meat Athlete entitled, “Too many drinks to run 13 miles.” At the time, my thought was, “Aw, just suck it up!”

If I had blogged yesterday, I might have written, “Too many drinks to run 3 miles.” Sue me. I’m a lightweight.

Also, my knees were giving me a little trouble all weekend long, so it seemed fitting to my body and splitting headache to nix the race and aquajog instead, and then pass out on the couch.

Today, however, dawned sunny (!!!!!) and warm, so I hammered out a nice little run:

Distance: 8.8 miles
Effort: Medium. I took off my shirt at one point so I had to look hardcore and  run faster.
Extras: Lunges, hip exercises and stretching to Thursday’s “Daily Show” on Hulu.

I rarely run on Mondays, seeing as Sunday is my long run day and I do think I benefit from the recovery, but it does set a nice tone for the week. So, in conclusion…

I’m glad I got shitfaced Saturday and didn’t run Sunday.
I’m glad the weather gods decided to give us sun today.
I’m REALLY glad I’m not this guy’s kid.

Overzealous?

Tuesday’s fantastical speed workout had a bit of a backlash. My knees, which had been on the mend from my own case of runningtoomuchitis, rebelled a bit with some wicked tightness and pain. My response, oddly rational, has been to lay off and hit the pool.

There’s not much I can write about aquajogging. Actually, there is, but I’m too irritated about writing it now. So we’ll write it on a day I’m feeling very benevolent towards the activity. In the meantime, I think I’m going to hit up a 5K in my old stomping grounds Sunday evening. It’s hosted by Fitzgerald’s 1928, where I watched the vice-presidential debate and, two months later, got shitfaced on scotch whiskey. So I have very fond memories of the place.

The only annoying thing is that the race starts at 5 p.m., which gives me plenty of time to kvetch myself out of running. Ah well. Vamos a ver!

Mermaid parade

I’m not going to go into detail with the Mermaid Parade I was in Saturday, but know that it was debaucherous and mostly naked. I took no pictures, but here is one of me and a few paraders getting ready, stolen from Facebook.

Not much else to say, other than it would have served to be drunker for the entire affair.

Today’s best in North Jersey news

Still without a camera, so a sampling of the Garden State’s shenanigans will have to do.

“Real Housewife” Danielle plans court action to ban sex pictures – note that she did not actually file anything yet. But still. Wish I were still covering Passaic County!

Montclair man jailed after attack on cop – this guy attacked a Clifton officer with a spike!!

South Plainfield teachers to boycott graduation – sort of a convoluted story, but kids said they wouldn’t drink at prom and then they did, getting themselves banned from graduation. Then the parents complained and the kids get to walk, but now the teachers say they won’t volunteer. Whatever. Drinking is for the shore!

Closing arguments in James Zarate trial – This is just a horrific story about a 16-year-old girl who was murdered. The brother, Jonathan, was convicted last year. I’ve been following the whole thing with a kind of sick fascination.

Tuesday track: Dodging gym class

I am increasingly wishing I had a track buddy or a training group for workouts. Unfortunately, my weirdo work schedule ensures that I work out when no one else is inclined to run. This is nice in one sense, as the track is rarely crowded, but also annoying because it becomes easier to screw around during workouts.

Today’s track set came courtesy of my friend H., who would probably do track with me if she weren’t all hurt with runningtoomuchitis. It went like this:

1600 in 6:38, 400 recovery
1200 in 4:55, 400 recovery
2 x 800 in 3:08, 3:11, 200 recovery after each
Now, here I was supposed to do 2×400, but 300 into the first one the high school gym class came out and started doing jumping jacks on the field. I was “distracted,” so I stopped and retrieved my shirt. Then I screwed around for .75 of a lap and did one 400 in 93.

All in all, not a terrible workout, but my knees kind of feel like crap now. Also, I feel myself spiraling into my old habits of “throwing” my workouts at the beginning – a.k.a., going out way too hard in the beginning and then not being able to finish strong. It is a stupid thing to do, and it totally pyschs me out. Also, it defeats the entire point of the workout, it seems.

Weekend runs

Saturday:

Distance: 7.something
Effort: Minimal
Extras: Dancing on a float in the Coney Island Mermaid Parade. What? Oh, yes, that would be my Saturday afternoon. Along with a group of young ladies and two brave men, I took the subway to Coney Island, jumped on a float, and danced for what seemed like forever…dressed in granny-style bras and underwear. But I did have my umbrella and green Asics, so all is well.

Sunday

Distance: 11.2
Effort: I tried to keep it easy, but apparently my diet of beer, vodka and Nathan’s Famous cheese fries didn’t do much to fuel my run. Frankly, I’m shocked I was able to finish at all.
Extras: Immediate icing of both knees, which started to fail by the end.

Now, to pick up the shards of my life and get ready for the work week. Also, browse the Internet to see if any horrifying Mermaid Parade pictures made it to someone’s blog. I was wearing a beard and giant sunglasses, but still…

Thursday’s run

Distance: 8 miles
Effort: Medium-hard to medium
Extras: Hip drills, stretching

Do you know it’s rained almost every day this spring in beautiful Jersey? It has. This morning was no exception. It wasn’t pouring, but it was steady. I almost bagged the run, but what was I waiting for, more rain on Friday? In any case, I plan on running Saturday and long on Sunday, and didn’t want three runs in a row.

I was pretty uninspired today, just four miles down the road and four miles back. My first couple of miles were around 8:10, and then I got bored and started picking it up. I’d say miles five and six were around 7:25-7:30, which is rather faster than I’d want on a “recovery” run, but I’ll make it up. Someday.

In other news, I really need to transfer my iTunes library from my old computer to this one. Mostly because there are three songs that I am dying to listen to on my run. And they are:

Sidenote

I am obsessed with Steep and Cheap. It sells outdoor equipment and clothes, one item at a time, for ridiculously discounted prices. There are only a handful of items available each time, and after 20 minutes the thing for sale switches. It makes me think that I really do need a mini-headlamp if I can get it for 67 percent off.

Cold-calling

I swam and aquajogged this morning, about which I have nothing to say other than, it’s over. Oh, the things I do to preserve my fragile little joints.

So, instead, I’ll talk about the second-worst part (for me) about reporting: the cold-call.

Sometimes, when the shit hits the fan and a big story breaks, you are told to get a reaction from “real people.” Real people are the non-politicos, non-gadflys, proverbial Joe Sixpack and Soccer Mom who live in town. Real people quotes are, for example, the quotes in a story about, let’s say, a new dog run in town. The quote from the real person would go:

“This is a true godsend for my house,” said Judy Grossman, 45, of Nutley. Grossman brought her pug, Sasha, to the dog run Thursday. “Sasha hasn’t been this happy since we adopted her.”

Get the idea? Now, in the case of the hypothetical dog run, obtaining the quote is as easy as going to the dog park and finding an owner. But in other cases, like if you are chained to your computer or on deadline, you must do the cold-call: finding a person you don’t know at all who is attached to this story you are working on, getting them on the horn, and trying to make them agree to giving their name and opinions for print in the paper.

Now that I write it out, it does sound like a very hard sell. But it’s a necessity. I’ve had good and bad experiences with cold-calling. One time, I managed to get a guy on the phone for a story about going to Obama’s inauguration. Ten minutes into the conversation, he agreed to have his picture taken for the front page.

Other times, I’ve been hung up on, told to F myself, or berated for bothering people. It sucks.

Yesterday, I had to make calls to parishoners of a church whose pastor is under investigation by the FBI. I really, really didn’t want to do it. Fortunately, and really remarkably, it worked out well, with my first two calls (I got the parishoners’ names off the church Web site) giving me quotes.

Of course, haven’t checked my voicemail yet. Who knows what angry messages await? Anyway, for anyone reading, what’s the crappiest part of your job? Does it ever surprise you by being not-awful and actually rewarding?

That was super

My friend from college Garrett is an aspiring elite Xterra triathlete, and posts numerous Facebook updates about his training, bikes and chances to take afternoons off from work and go mountain biking in rural Arizona (whatevs). But for a spate of time, he posted about doing supersets, workouts he claimed were awesome.

So today, Track Tuesday, I decided to try it out for size.

A superset, I learned, is a workout that starts at a fast pace and ends with a slower, longer run with no rest between the intervals, but rest between the set. I did a little Googling and found this one: 4x(200-400-800), with the 200s at an almost-top speed, the 400s at 5K pace and the 800s at 10K pace. You don’t rest between the 200s, 400s, or 800s, but you get four minutes between the sets.

Easy peasy, right?

Here’s how it shook out:

Set 1: 40, 1:36, 3:20
Set 2: 42, 1:38. 3:20
Set 3: 43, 1:38, 3:17
Set 4: 42, 1:38, 3:18

This is interesting. I had a really hard time with the 400s, obviously, but the 800s felt pretty easy. My legs were awfully tired by the end – as in, “Just make running motions with your legs and hopefully you’ll start moving forward!” – but, aerobically, I was not that bad. So what do the sluggish, painfull 400s mean? No clue. I’m going to ask Garrett.