Although I have been running, I have been in a bit of a rut with it. It just hasn't felt right for a while. I have also been fairly lax on my other workouts. I am doing them, but not like in the past. My enthusiasm has waned a bit. Maybe not enthusiasm. Desire? Energy? Whatever it is, it is causing a waning in my activity. I say I will do it later, then later comes and it just never happened. Then, of course, Thanksgiving was looming and I just figured that it was a waste to get all fired up about rekindling the workout fire and then eat myself into a coma on the big day. Friday came and I decided enough is enough. We did our typical hill run yesterday and it was horrible! I mean, it was great being with my friends, but the hill almost killed me. I found that I needed a stroller for my stomach and a backpack for my ass. I was running and people thought I was exercising with twins. They came up to me and were all like, "oogie, goo goo. Look at the babies. Can we see the babies?" Then they looked in the stroller and gagged at the sight of my stomach, and when they looked in the backpack they literally threw up. It was kind of embarrassing. After a few miles, I decided to call my stomach baby Lards. I like that it sounds Nordic. Since my last name is Nourse, people think that I am descended from the Norse people anyway. My stomach is Lards Nourse. I just called my ass baby, Asspack. Because it was in a backpack and I can't think of anything better right now. Asspack Nourse. I was running up hills with my little family unit, Lards and Asspack Nourse and I felt like I was going to throw up. Too much food and I decided that is enough. It is amazing what a bad diet can do in a short amount of time. In all seriousness, I have put on weight and I can feel the effect it has on my my speed and endurance. I think it has to do with not having something specific to train for. I usually do need something to train for. A raison d 'etre if you will. In French, raison d'etre means raison eater and that has nothing to do with running, but I hear those words and it makes me mad. Makes me want to sign up for a race. So, some friends talked me into doing a 20 mile trail race in February. It is billed as 20 miles, but everyone says it is 21. That is the thing about trail runs. You can't trust them. I have been on a 10 mile trail run that turned out to be 13 miles. Something about satellites and clouds and leaf cover and the devil, but in my case I usually get lost as well. Not near death lost, but a 1/2 mile or so mosey off the right path lost. It is a weird feeling when it hits you that there is no one around and you have to turn and find the right path. Sometimes the path is just marked with a small ribbon. Other times, they hire a really apathetic squirrel to point you the right way. Squirrels do not have a pointy finger. 'Nuff said. A half mile mistake, turns into an extra mile on the trail. To sum up the situation, I am signed up for a 20 plus mile trail race in late February. Not far off from the marathon that I said I would not do for a long time. I plan on doing a somewhat formal training plan for this event and starting in the near future. In between, I want to lose the weight I have gained and run a pr in the New Years Eve day 5k I run every year. This is doable. I have to make sure it is. This is the event. www.njtrailseries.com The Febapple 20 miler. Maybe I can convince Ed to come up for that.
I'm going to have to end this now, because little Lards and Asspack are due for their feeding.
Showing posts with label squirrels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label squirrels. Show all posts
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Part Two of the greatest story ever told
Bob -
This is part two of the story of how I got back to running. I'm assuming you read part one, otherwise part two is not going to make sense. If you haven't, I'm going to sum it up quickly. I was young once and fairly fast, but did not like to run anything more than sprints. Then I pretty much quit running in college to pursue other endeavors such as drinking and sleeping. From that point on, I mostly would play sports for fun. I played a lot of basketball and tennis. Some softball and pick up football games. When my kids were small, I coached soccer and I ran around with them and the kids on the team a lot. That was fun. Every once in a while I would run a 5k. My training for that was a two mile loop near my house. The loop had a number of hills and was kind of challenging. I knew that when I was able to complete that loop in a certain amount of time I was "ready" for the 5k. 3.1 miles at that time was way more than enough for me to run. I was in decent overall shape and still young enough that my body could take whatever abuse I was giving it. I mean physically, because once I left college my partying days were pretty much over.
The first 15 years of my work life, I was in banking. A relatively physically easy job...that I hated. I served in various capacities in banking and pretty much hated all of them. But, I could come home, play with my kids, do the physical things that I liked and put work behind until the next day. One reason I talked about the speed and quickness that I had, was because I always relied on that. On the tennis or basketball court, I could cut and run and get to the ball and had a blast doing it. I could jump over things. I was agile. I loved that. And I took it for granted. When I was in my mid 30's, I had come to the point that I did not think I could take another 30 years of banking. By this time, I had been building stuff on the side. Different types of furniture and things of that nature. I found that I loved to build. I loved to figure out how things were made and learn how to use various tools of the trade. I had no formal training. I was not brought up doing that sort of thing and I always hated shop class in high school. But now, I would be in my basement for all kinds of hours figuring out how to use my new tools, building stuff and the hours would pass so quickly. Other than watching my kids grow and develop, nothing was more fascinating to me than learning to create stuff. Norm Abrams was my teacher. I watched the New Yankee Workshop religiously. To this day, I want a bobble head doll of Norm Abrams that is filled with pine shavings. I love the smell of fresh cut pine in the morning. Nothing like it. Long story short, by the time I was about 37 I was out of banking and into the cabinet building business. That transition is a story for another day.
What does this have to do with running you may ask? In my case, everything. By the time I was 42, I had been working for a cabinet company full time in addition to having my own business. At 42, I was on my own. Full time. Knee deep in cabinets. I went from a relatively sedentary job to one that was incredibly active. Carrying, lifting, kneeling, building. I loved all of it, but it took a toll on my body. My knees especially. My left knee even more especially. There were times it would just lock up. I would have to bend it quickly, hear the pop and then it seemed better for a while. It was like it needed oil. Walking the dog down a hill was horrible. If she would jerk suddenly, I felt like I was going to collapse. This is why I hate squirrels to this day. Little squirrel bastards hiding and then popping out and making her chase them. I know what they were saying. "Let's watch the fat, gimpy guy cry and fall down. Cabinet making mother #$%^&@." Squirrels hate cabinet makers for some reason. Something about taking their trees. It is a proven fact. I am a naturalist and a animal whisperer by night and I know this stuff, so you are going to have to take my word for it. No need to Google this information, because squirrels do no not go on Google and they keep this info tight to their chest. Chipmunks too. They are even worse, but that too is a story for another day. Suffice it to say that squirrels, chipmunks and rabbits are not my friends to this day. We have an uneasy truce, but it could escalate at any time. I can only hope that they do not read this, because it could get ugly. Right now, we have a Nourse-Cute yet Insidious Rodent Treaty. You can Google that. It is in the books. Suffice it to say that my knees were not what they were. My days of basketball, tennis and other things that I loved to do were over. At least the way I liked to play them. Fast, fun and agile days were over.
I'm gonna have to go to part three because I need to get some work done. This is one of those fascinating (to me and my mom, but I think she lies) to boring stories. Plus, I have a marathon next week and I have to get out and run a bit.
This is part two of the story of how I got back to running. I'm assuming you read part one, otherwise part two is not going to make sense. If you haven't, I'm going to sum it up quickly. I was young once and fairly fast, but did not like to run anything more than sprints. Then I pretty much quit running in college to pursue other endeavors such as drinking and sleeping. From that point on, I mostly would play sports for fun. I played a lot of basketball and tennis. Some softball and pick up football games. When my kids were small, I coached soccer and I ran around with them and the kids on the team a lot. That was fun. Every once in a while I would run a 5k. My training for that was a two mile loop near my house. The loop had a number of hills and was kind of challenging. I knew that when I was able to complete that loop in a certain amount of time I was "ready" for the 5k. 3.1 miles at that time was way more than enough for me to run. I was in decent overall shape and still young enough that my body could take whatever abuse I was giving it. I mean physically, because once I left college my partying days were pretty much over.
The first 15 years of my work life, I was in banking. A relatively physically easy job...that I hated. I served in various capacities in banking and pretty much hated all of them. But, I could come home, play with my kids, do the physical things that I liked and put work behind until the next day. One reason I talked about the speed and quickness that I had, was because I always relied on that. On the tennis or basketball court, I could cut and run and get to the ball and had a blast doing it. I could jump over things. I was agile. I loved that. And I took it for granted. When I was in my mid 30's, I had come to the point that I did not think I could take another 30 years of banking. By this time, I had been building stuff on the side. Different types of furniture and things of that nature. I found that I loved to build. I loved to figure out how things were made and learn how to use various tools of the trade. I had no formal training. I was not brought up doing that sort of thing and I always hated shop class in high school. But now, I would be in my basement for all kinds of hours figuring out how to use my new tools, building stuff and the hours would pass so quickly. Other than watching my kids grow and develop, nothing was more fascinating to me than learning to create stuff. Norm Abrams was my teacher. I watched the New Yankee Workshop religiously. To this day, I want a bobble head doll of Norm Abrams that is filled with pine shavings. I love the smell of fresh cut pine in the morning. Nothing like it. Long story short, by the time I was about 37 I was out of banking and into the cabinet building business. That transition is a story for another day.
What does this have to do with running you may ask? In my case, everything. By the time I was 42, I had been working for a cabinet company full time in addition to having my own business. At 42, I was on my own. Full time. Knee deep in cabinets. I went from a relatively sedentary job to one that was incredibly active. Carrying, lifting, kneeling, building. I loved all of it, but it took a toll on my body. My knees especially. My left knee even more especially. There were times it would just lock up. I would have to bend it quickly, hear the pop and then it seemed better for a while. It was like it needed oil. Walking the dog down a hill was horrible. If she would jerk suddenly, I felt like I was going to collapse. This is why I hate squirrels to this day. Little squirrel bastards hiding and then popping out and making her chase them. I know what they were saying. "Let's watch the fat, gimpy guy cry and fall down. Cabinet making mother #$%^&@." Squirrels hate cabinet makers for some reason. Something about taking their trees. It is a proven fact. I am a naturalist and a animal whisperer by night and I know this stuff, so you are going to have to take my word for it. No need to Google this information, because squirrels do no not go on Google and they keep this info tight to their chest. Chipmunks too. They are even worse, but that too is a story for another day. Suffice it to say that squirrels, chipmunks and rabbits are not my friends to this day. We have an uneasy truce, but it could escalate at any time. I can only hope that they do not read this, because it could get ugly. Right now, we have a Nourse-Cute yet Insidious Rodent Treaty. You can Google that. It is in the books. Suffice it to say that my knees were not what they were. My days of basketball, tennis and other things that I loved to do were over. At least the way I liked to play them. Fast, fun and agile days were over.
I'm gonna have to go to part three because I need to get some work done. This is one of those fascinating (to me and my mom, but I think she lies) to boring stories. Plus, I have a marathon next week and I have to get out and run a bit.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Thoughts
I was running with a good friend the other day and we were talking about some of the stuff we have done and want to do. She is doing ultra type stuff and has done quite a few half and full marathons. She likes the longer distances and climbing up mountains and stuff. I don't do the distances she does, but I love a challenge and she and I, along with some others have done 3 Tough Mudders and some other similar things. We both agree that we like to run, but climbing on and over stuff is pretty fun too. What I am trying to get at, is that we were discussing how far we have come in our running. We both agreed that it took years of building a base to start feeling comfortable in longer distances. During my first two half marathons, I was miserable. They were a year apart. I counted every mile. I didn't really know how to train. I did the training on a treadmill and on the road when I could. Hated it. Not only the physical part, but the mental as well. My attention span is limited. That is one reason I like to run on a trail. Because there is lots of stuff to look at and trip over. You always have to be alert because you can trip or be eaten at any time. The getting eaten part is not so bad in Pennsylvania due to the fact that there isn't much that can eat us. But on the right day, if the conditions are just right and the squirrels are pissed off...you quite possibly could get eaten. I've seen some red foxes that if I tripped and fell and was half knocked out, they would put a good chew into me. In other areas of the country, I've known people to get eaten by gators and bears and even a puma. The most horrifying incident of runners being eaten was the Donner Party back in the 1800's. The story was that they were trying to get over to California or something to settle, but they were really trying to get a good extreme run in. I am a history major and I know stuff that others don't know, so you are going to have to take my word on this. The Donner Party were doing an ultra through the alps of the western United States and they ate each other. I can't really talk about it anymore. Very upsetting. It reminds me of the time I was running in a blizzard with two of my friends a couple years ago. It was icy and cold and we were having a good time, until we came to a fallen tree. I panicked and started chewing on Karl's leg. We were about two miles out and I didn't know where I would get my next meal. This is the kind of thing that happens when you run. But you have to keep your wits about you. I had only been running for a short period and I didn't think to relax, breathe and just go back the two miles we had come. But I did experience human flesh and in what other sport can you do that? Anyway, we were talking about how long it took us to get to the point we are at now. It took us a good 4 years to build a base where we are comfortable doing the distances we are doing. I know now that I can pretty much go out on any given day and run 10 to 13 miles. It may not be fast, but I can do it. I worked hard to get to that point. I went through some pain and injury and frustration, but I learned what worked for me and got through it. I see some newer runners getting frustrated and talking about ultra running and that sort of thing and they have really only done a 5k or two. I just want to tell them to get real strong in the shorter distances. Build on that. Push the limits, but be careful. 3 miles becomes 5 miles becomes 13 miles. The secret as I see is always push the boundaries. I also want to tell them and anyone who will listen that the results will come, but not if you are hurt. Sore yes, wanting to puke, certainly, but I think if you are somewhat careful you can avoid injury. If you do get injured, learn from it. Don't do the same thing again. Too many people just run themselves into the ground. Experienced runners as well. Build the base, appreciate the experience, be patient, but push yourself. Run with people who are faster than you on occasion. Chase them til you can't keep up and then slow it down. You will be amazed at the results. In conclusion, always run with others when you are in a blizzard, because you will never lack for food.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Stuff
Bob -
On Sunday I went out and ran a half marathon on a trail. It was a fairly difficult trail in terms of being pretty narrow in spots, lots of rocks and roots and trees, plus hills. Hills that I had to walk up at times. I really hate to walk. Not so much for ego sake, but because my legs tighten up quickly. They feel better when I am running. But, with some of those hills, I had to walk. There are markers on the trail to show you where you should turn, but they can be missed fairly easily because you spend a lot of time looking at the ground, so as not to trip on something. At least I do. I have fallen a few times, nothing serious, but I have seen some pretty nasty falls by others. A few weeks ago on a trail run, I stumbled down a hill for about what seemed like 50 yards. The whole time I was screaming the f bomb, like that was going to help. For like two minutes I was yelling, "f@@@@@@@@@@@@$$$$$$$$$$$$^^^^^^^^^^", well you get it, right? I do not have the cleanest mouth when I run, especially when I am tripping. I ended up not falling, but I was glad that I was among friends who know how I talk. The point of the this is that sometimes I miss turns and go off course because I am half an idiot. Sundays half marathon turned into about 14 plus miles. I needed that because I missed my long run on Saturday, which was supposed to be 19 miles. I felt that I let myself down and my training partners(who by the way are wonderful, but don't tell them I said so). I am supposed to be doing a marathon in October. I hate marathons, I don't like the training for marathons. I do have a goal, however, and it is to do this marathon. And do it well enough hopefully that I never want to do another one. See, I don't love long distance. I like the shorter stuff, but this is something that I want to do and be done with. Know that I trained adequately and gave it my all and then put that baby to bed. The baby being the marathon in case you got confused. Baby marathon needs to go to bed and go sleepy bye bye. I said good night, baby marathon, now get your ass to bed!! Now I'm upset and I forgot what I was talking about. Something about babies and lots of miles. Let's see...baby...bedtime...sleepy...doodie diapers...oh yeah, marathon. I missed my long run, so for penance and to see how much endurance I lost, I went and ran the trail half. My personal thing is when I get a bit down, I go beat the crap out of myself in a workout to either see how bad things really are or to work out the kinks. It usually happens that the kinks get worked out. It turns out that it was the best thing that I could have done. There is nothing like a long run through the woods to get your head turned around. It was painful, it was hard, it was beautiful and there were people I had never met before doing the same thing I was. That is one the realizations I have had lately. That no matter how tough you think you are, or what a good runner you think you are or what a bad runner you think you are, in any given race there are hundreds going through the same shit you are. They may be faster, but they are hurting. They may be slower, but they are hurting. Because everyone is trying to do their best. At least they should be. I am very time oriented. I am pretty goal oriented. I don't care who I beat, I want to do my best on any given day. I want to beat my time. On Sunday, I really didn't care, I just wanted to finish the run. And it felt great. The moral to this story? I have no clue. If anyone actually reads this, maybe you can let me know. What I do know is that sometimes just the satisfaction of getting something done is all that matters.
On Sunday I went out and ran a half marathon on a trail. It was a fairly difficult trail in terms of being pretty narrow in spots, lots of rocks and roots and trees, plus hills. Hills that I had to walk up at times. I really hate to walk. Not so much for ego sake, but because my legs tighten up quickly. They feel better when I am running. But, with some of those hills, I had to walk. There are markers on the trail to show you where you should turn, but they can be missed fairly easily because you spend a lot of time looking at the ground, so as not to trip on something. At least I do. I have fallen a few times, nothing serious, but I have seen some pretty nasty falls by others. A few weeks ago on a trail run, I stumbled down a hill for about what seemed like 50 yards. The whole time I was screaming the f bomb, like that was going to help. For like two minutes I was yelling, "f@@@@@@@@@@@@$$$$$$$$$$$$^^^^^^^^^^", well you get it, right? I do not have the cleanest mouth when I run, especially when I am tripping. I ended up not falling, but I was glad that I was among friends who know how I talk. The point of the this is that sometimes I miss turns and go off course because I am half an idiot. Sundays half marathon turned into about 14 plus miles. I needed that because I missed my long run on Saturday, which was supposed to be 19 miles. I felt that I let myself down and my training partners(who by the way are wonderful, but don't tell them I said so). I am supposed to be doing a marathon in October. I hate marathons, I don't like the training for marathons. I do have a goal, however, and it is to do this marathon. And do it well enough hopefully that I never want to do another one. See, I don't love long distance. I like the shorter stuff, but this is something that I want to do and be done with. Know that I trained adequately and gave it my all and then put that baby to bed. The baby being the marathon in case you got confused. Baby marathon needs to go to bed and go sleepy bye bye. I said good night, baby marathon, now get your ass to bed!! Now I'm upset and I forgot what I was talking about. Something about babies and lots of miles. Let's see...baby...bedtime...sleepy...doodie diapers...oh yeah, marathon. I missed my long run, so for penance and to see how much endurance I lost, I went and ran the trail half. My personal thing is when I get a bit down, I go beat the crap out of myself in a workout to either see how bad things really are or to work out the kinks. It usually happens that the kinks get worked out. It turns out that it was the best thing that I could have done. There is nothing like a long run through the woods to get your head turned around. It was painful, it was hard, it was beautiful and there were people I had never met before doing the same thing I was. That is one the realizations I have had lately. That no matter how tough you think you are, or what a good runner you think you are or what a bad runner you think you are, in any given race there are hundreds going through the same shit you are. They may be faster, but they are hurting. They may be slower, but they are hurting. Because everyone is trying to do their best. At least they should be. I am very time oriented. I am pretty goal oriented. I don't care who I beat, I want to do my best on any given day. I want to beat my time. On Sunday, I really didn't care, I just wanted to finish the run. And it felt great. The moral to this story? I have no clue. If anyone actually reads this, maybe you can let me know. What I do know is that sometimes just the satisfaction of getting something done is all that matters.
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