Town Forest Race Report

It's not like I want to decide who lives and who dies, but I really am okay with deciding who gets to park at the senior center and who must drive down the road, park at the DPW building, and walk an extra quarter mile to registration. It's one of the duties that goes along with helping direct traffic at the Town Forest Trail Race. It's quite hectic about 45 minutes before the start of the race. All the runners arrive at the same time, and we do our best to park what we can in the lot and in the woods at the senior center. But there's a large turnout, and we simply don't do this for a living.

Luckily, runners are a happy-go-lucky bunch, and other than a few stressed-out expressions on the faces of some late arrivals, everybody cooperates without a fuss. And I do mean everybody. Nobody parked in the fire lane or out on the highway, which would not sit well with the fire department or police, respectively.

But not only am I helping out with the race, but I'm also entered into it. So with very few minutes to spare, I'm off to my car to shed a few layers, pin on my race number, and quaff a GU. It only vaguely resembles Clark Kent using a phone booth. Grab a cup of Gatorade and hit the mens room. No line! Then off to the start of the race.

I'm literally the last person to arrive at the starting area, with exactly 10 minutes to go before the race starts. I bump into Razi and Kim in the crowd, and meet Kim's new friend Ken, who takes pictures of other runners while trail racing. Far away race director Paul Funch is making some announcements using a bull horn that I can barely hear. Kim asks me what he said. I reply "He sounds like Charlie Brown's dad". And we're off...

As background, this is only my second ever trail race. In my first attempt, I went off course and ended up with a DNF. No worries here, as the pack is relatively large, the course is extremely well marked, and wrong turns are marked off with police tape.

I've also been standing on my feet or walking around for several hours before the race, and haven't had a chance to do any pre-race rituals such as stretching. I normally don't stretch before running, but usually my legs aren't tight from being on my feet for hours either. So I start off and run a slow comfortable pace with Kim for the first mile. Except that we're running a sub-11 minute pace, and normally a training run in the woods is about a 13-minute pace for me. Okay, so how soon before I poop out and am forced to walk a bit like what happened in the half-marathon a month ago?

Except the weather is much cooler today. My legs loosen up. The pack starts to thin out. I take off, just in time to hit the single tracks going up and down steep hills.

I've never run a race on single tracks before. It's tricky to see the footing when you're following somebody. You worry about slipping and creating a domino effect of falling runners when going downhill. In front of one of the professional photographers. This would be what we call embarassing.

Passing takes cooperation on a single track. Usually, I was content to match the pace of the person in front, since by now I was really pushing myself way beyond what I usually do in training. My heart rate monitor is reading something in the 180s. I'm breathing very heavy. I don't pass the runners in front of me so much as they pull aside to take a walk break. And of course, with open trail in front of my I must step up the pace.

Running in the woods is actually a lot of fun. The trail is always turning or going up and down, so your mind is constantly busy figuring out where to place each step. You don't get the "brain off" effect you get running on the roads. The only time I slow to a walk is up the steeper sections of trail. And when I say steep, think of climbing a ladder.

I finally caught up with Ken the running photographer at.. well, I forget how far it was. But I do remember being about 50 feet behind him for about half a mile, before I was able to get close enough and catch enough breath to let him know I was there and get a few pictures snapped. I hope he got my good side!

And finally it's back to the relatively flat gravel road, and my watch let's me know I'm past the 3 mile mark. For reasons that I cannot fathom, I pick up the pace even more. I'm now running around an 8-minute pace. Heart rate is 190 and climbing and I don't care. I've got to much of an adrenaline rush going to worry about numbers. And the finish line is in sight! Maria gets a picture of me in full sprint on her iPhone. I finish around 35:10. Yahoo!

I hang around at the finish line for a while, walk back to the senior center and chow down on some yummy baked goods, but strangely don't get much of a sugar rush out of it. And more hanging out until all the runners have finished and it's time to clean up. It should be noted that after running through the woods for 35 minutes, over rocks and roots, the closest I come to face planting all day is when tripping over a chair in the senior center. Go figure.

The hardest part of cleanup is trying to remember how the tables senior center were laid out when we got there. Apparently they're very particular about things being put back in the same place. I picture Grandpa Simpson complaining about his favorite chair being an inch off of where it was last week.

And that was my first ever experience with the Town Forest Trail Race. A most excellent, low-key event.

How to measure your running mileage

The first rule of distance running is that you always round up, so 4.00001 miles is actually a 5 mile run. Once you get into double digits, odd number are optional. That means once you hit 10.0001 miles, you’re on a 12 mile run. And of course, anything over 20 miles gets rounded up to the next multiple of 5.

Now that that’s out of the way, the easiest way to figure out how far you’ve run is to use a sport watch that measures distance, either with GPS or a sensor in your shoe. Of course, using technology makes it so easy it feels like cheating. After all, when Philippides finished up at the battle of marathon, he didn’t strap on his Garmin before returning to Athens to deliver news of the victory. And given the rounding rule above, it’s a good thing he was a warrior first and not actually very much of a runner, or else today’s marathons would be 30 miles instead of 26.2.

Another option is to use a website like www.mapmyrun.com to figure out how far you went. Of course, if you can’t remember your exact route, err in favor of the longer option, and then round up as usual. For those of you who are old fashioned, a paper map and a ruler can also be used.

And finally, you can estimate your distance using a stopwatch. For example, let’s say you ran for 27 minutes and 5 seconds, and once in your life, you ran a 9 minute mile. So of course, at a 9 minute pace you would have run just a tad over 3 miles, which makes it a 4 mile run.

See? This is easy!

A Tale of Two Mountains

There is a mountain in my basement. It is made of out of all sorts of stuff. Papers, parts, tools, toys, widgets and knick knacks. I could go one of two ways with this mountain. One option is to add to my collection of stuff until the mountain is so big I end up featured on the show “Hoarders”. The other, more preferable option is to get rid of the stuff I don’t truly need, and organize the stuff that remains.

The other mountain is Mount Monadnock. Famous for being the most hiked mountain in North America: http://www.theheartofnewengland.com/travel/nh/mt-monadnock.html And it’s about a 40 minute scenic drive from home for me.

This week is my company’s summer shutdown, so I decided to take advantage of the time off and make an assault on both mountains. I’m happy to say that the view from the top of Monadnock is spectacular, and there’s free watermelon on the summit. Or at least I was lucky enough to be at the summit on the same day as a guy training for Mt. Ranier who decided that a 23 lb melon was a good simulation of the load he’ll be carrying on that hike.

On the other hand I’ve barely made a dent in clutter mountain.

And now for the inspiring portion of today’s post. Reaching the summit of Mount Monadnock is not something I did on a whim. Okay, back in my 20s I did go with some friends on a whim and climb the mountain. But I was younger and exercising regularly back then. In my 30s I became a lot more sedentary, and as a result my hikes started ending well short of the summit. Usually I had a convenient excuse involving the weather or impending darkness. But it’s an unavoidable fact that sitting at a desk does not a mountain man make.

I’m now in my 40s and back to regular exercise, and I noticed the difference on my hike. It wasn’t an ideal day. In fact it was the hottest day in several years with oppressive humidity. But a combination of conditioning and an adequate supply of drinking water made for a successful hike.

And so it is with clutter mountain. While I was “busy” allowing my body to atrophy I also allowed the clutter to build. It’s taken several years to get back part of my physical conditioning, and I expect it will take years to fully organize myself. A large part of both is simply developing the correct habits that will lead to fitness and organization.

Habits are built by repeatedly making the same choice again and again. It’s very easy to choose watching TV instead of putting things in their proper place, especially if some things don’t have a proper place yet. I’ve done quite well at developing the exercise habit, now it’s time to build some better organization habits.

Isn't it ironic

It occurred to me this morning that when life is interesting, and there's lot of things to write a blog about, you usually don't have a lot of spare time to write in a blog. Conversely, when you do find the time and peace of mind to do so, you're probably bored and don't have much to write about. Or so it seems.

Anyway, today is the Boston Marathon, and I'm travelling into the city with a load of stuff to set up a hotel room for club members to crash in and recover after the race. It's a day for getting out of my comfort zone and breaking all the rules, real or imagined. Rules such as "don't drive into the city when there are lots of crowds and road closures", or "no check-ins before 2pm".

This is all just a warm-up. Someday I'd like to run in the race, but the logistics of doing so are just mind-boggling to me right now. It's 8:30am right now, which means 25,000 runners who have been up for hours already are hanging around in Hopkinton in 40 degree weather waiting for the race to begin. They'll generally finish between 5 and 7 hours from now when it's much warmer and they've been running for hours.

So in addition to being in shape to run the race, you also need to be able to stand around for hours both before and after the race, and you need to plan for some sacrificial clothing to keep you warm before the start, but will be discarded along the route (I do wonder what happens to the cast off clothing of all the runners). And then, you also want to have another set of clothing waiting at the finish to keep you warm after the race.

And this is where I come in. I won't be bringing clothing along, but will be begging hotel housekeeping for towels and soap for a number of runners. I'm sure hotels have rules about such things too. Oh well, rules are meant to be broken for the greater good.

Tom vs. the Couch

Ken: Hello and welcome to another round of non-celebrity boxing! I’m Ken Wiggles

Larry: And I’m Larry Noble. Folks, we have an excellent match for you tonight. There’s been an ongoing grudge between Tom and the Couch and the Couch has had the upper hand since it was moved closer to the TV.

Ken: Let’s go down to the ring for the introductions.

Ring Announcer: Good evening ladies and gentlemen! In this corner, weighing more than a breadbox but less than a gorilla, wearing grey sweats, Tom!

[[ Crowd cheers! ]]

Ken: He looks like an underweight Rocky Balboa

Larry: Yes he does, not to mention grey sweats went out of style by the time Rocky II came out.

Ring Announcer: And in this corner, weighing enough that it’s perfectly fine where it is, we don’t need to see what it looks like in the other corner, wearing burgundy mohair upholstery, the Couch!

[[ boos, catcalls ]]

Ken: And the bell rings for round 1, and Tom immediately hops into the car to meet somebody for a 10 mile run. Wow, what an opening!

Larry: Well, Tom has always been strong in the opening rounds, but the Couch has never been an opponent that can be taken out quickly. It likes to let the competition wear itself out, then asserts itself in the later rounds.

Ken: Round 2, and the Couch comes out strong. It’s using indecision about what to have for dinner to lure Tom in. But wait, Tom showers, shaves, puts on some decent clothes, and takes his wife out for dinner. Holy cow!

Larry: Very nice escape of the indecision trap. Tom’s been putting a lot of effort into remembering there’s clothes in his wardrobe besides T-shirts, and it really paid off here.

Ken: Round 3, and the couch has lured Tom into its grasp with morning coffee. And the headphones are on! The headphones are on!!!

Larry: The Couch has really been building up it’s collection of soothing music. It’s gotten really good lately at getting a hold of Tom and not letting go.

Ken: Tom fights back. He’s off the couch and paying bills online. Now he’s outside and getting the hose out.

Larry: Looks like he’s going to wash the car. Very interesting strategy to use a relatively easy and low intensity activity to keep moving after the run yesterday.

Ken: But Tom is obviously showing signs of fatigue. He goes into the basement looking for the hose nozzle, then back to the garage, then back to the basement before finding it.

Larry: This is how the couch works, it waits until you’re not at your best, then tempts you with relaxation and the promise that there’s no wrong way to lay on a couch.

Ken: And he forgot to turn on the faucet for the summer, so it’s back into the basement again. All those stairs have got to be doing a number on Tom after all that running yesterday.

Larry: Not to mention all the bending over trying to rinse salt off the underside. But Tom is comfortably dressed for the cool air, and he’s filled the bucket with warm water, so he’s gone out of his way to make this task pleasant.

Ken: He’s finishing up now. Wheels washed, looking for any spots he missed. And he goes inside before cleaning out the bucket and winding up the hose! Oh no! What a stunning turn of events.

Larry: Tom was looking so good, and then the couch blind sided him with lunch and a Nascar pre-race show. He’s down. He’s contemplating a nap. The referee begins to count.

Ken: And while the referee is counting, let’s take a break for a word from our sponsor: Rest-EZ mattresses.

Change Your Oil in 10 Easy Steps

This weekend I decided to greatly reduce my time spent surfing the internet, a decision slightly influenced by the fact that our cable modem hasn’t worked since Thursday. Thank you Charter, great customer support. And the cable bill is lightly less than what one would pay a therapist for help with internet addiction. But I digress.

I really wanted to talk about car maintenance and (lack of) fashion today, and share the tips and tricks I’ve learned over the years for doing an oil change. Trust me, this is advice you won’t get anywhere else.

Step 1: Warm up the car and raise the front end slightly. I prefer driving up onto a pair of scrap 2x10’s left over from construction of the garage.

Step 2: Change into clothes that are so dirty and worn out you wouldn’t use them for rags. If you have long hair like me, wear a hat and tuck your hair up under it. Today I wore my purple and yellow Minnesota Vikings knit hat with the pom-pom on top that went out of fashion shortly after it was given to me in the third grade.

Step 3: Place a pan under the car and remove the drain plug. Let all the oil drain out and replace the plug. To prevent over-tightening, grab the wrench halfway up and only use a moderate amount of force. That way you’ll have much more leverage and strength available to loosen it next time.

Step 4: Realize you left the filter and oil in the house so it would be at room temperature and thus easier to pour than toothpaste. Make sure the coast is clear when walking from the garage to the house because you don’t want the neighbors to see you in an out-of-fashion Vikings hat. When you fail to do this, duck around the back side of the garage until they’ve finished driving by.

Step 5: Prefill the new filter about 1/3 of the way, put a trace of oil on the gasket. Move the drain pain under the old filter, clean up the oil that just sploshed onto the floor, then remove the old filter and install the new filter.

Step 6: Change the radio station because you can’t stand to listen to Katy Perry ever
since she started hanging out with that British guy that has worse hair than you. It doesn’t matter that you’re married and she’s half your age and not your type anyway, it still bothers you.

Step 7: Pour new oil into engine. Pour old oil into an empty gallon jug (washer fluid bottles work well). When you remember that your cold holds six quarts, get a second gallon jug and pour the remainder in there. Clean up the oil that overflowed from the first jug. This is easy if you put the jug into a cardboard box lined with newspapers before pouring in the old oil.

Step 8: Katy Perry on this station too? Change to classic rock. Decide that listening to “Mustang Sally” while working on a Mustang is corny, but tolerable.

Step 9: Wash up, change back into clean clothes. Start up car, drive off ramps, check for leaks, then shut off engine and verify oil level, which is really verifying that you could count to six when adding oil.

Step 10: Finish cleanup, don’t worry about getting the drain pan too clean because it’s just going to get more dirty oil in it next time. Write blog entry, and vow to get some better old clothes for next time.

A (not so) Sticky Situation

Blog Reboot! It’s time to get off my duff and start doing things. Yes, I do realize that writing a blog does involve sitting on one's duff. Please don’t distract me with such details.

Today I decided to do something after work that did not involve sitting. Not sure exactly what that was, I went straight into the basement and found a box of, um, “crap”, that was rescued from dad’s workshop. First thing on top of the box was a roll of adhesive pipe insulating tape. Great! Our hot water pipes could use some insulation against the cold basement. Should make for slightly warmer showers.

So, in a manner totally uncharacteristic of somebody so fond of procrastination, I instantly got out the stepstool and proceeded to start wrapping a pipe. Okay, there’s a little bit of technique to this. It seems to be going on a bit lumpy, and it isn’t sticking all that well. Better get the package and double check the directions. Hey look, the price tag is from Bradlee’s. Didn’t they go out of business 20 years ago? Actually they went bankrupt in 2000, according to Wikipedia, but judging from the packaging and the price ($1.50), this is old stuff.

What we’re dealing with here is some ancient adhesive that lost its stickiness probably around the time Reagan left office. Acutally, if I Google “mortell pipe insulation”, the most recent reference I can easify find is in the May 1977 issue of Popular Mechanics. Hello Jimmy Carter!

Thus, initiative was shown, a valiant attempt was made at putting something to use. But in the end, it will take too much effort for a sub-standard result. If I really want my pipes insulated, there’s better and easier alternatives available today. As much as I hate waste (and I do hate it in neurotic proportions), I’m gonna have to convince myself that chucking this stuff is the right thing to do.