Climb Every Mountain

Every so often, I check my blog analytics to see what brings people to this here blog. Lots of times, I find some pretty funny things, and today was no exception. Two of my faves:

Referring site: www.nakedonsharppointystuff.blogspot.com. Naked On Sharp, Pointy Stuff? I meannnnn. Obviously I had to know just what kind of (NSFW?!) site this was that was referring people to me, but fear of termination of employment lead me to check it out on my iPhone. Alas, it's not as creepy as it seems - it's a blog about barefoot running. It just happens to have an outstandingly pervy name. I salute you, Fellow Blogger Who Gets Cheap Thrills From Sexual Innuendo.

Search term: "Hungover shame spiraling." Well that should pretty much just be the entirety of my "About Me" section.

Which brings us to today's workout. Today was the first time in what felt like 26 years that I had no evening plans. No beers to be drunk, no dinners to be shared with friends, no seasonally inappropriate dresses to be worn. Never mind that as of tomorrow I'm off for another weekend of beers, foods, and short skirts in snow country... Today, there would be no hungover shame spiraling. Well, except for a little bit this morning, residual from last night's antics. But mostly, today I had hills to climb.

The Plan called for 6 miles "on the hilliest route you can find." For my last training cycle, I did these hill workouts in Central Park, which wasn't particularly close to my apartment then, and is even further away now. While I do have Prospect Park and its inherent hills (you remember that Facebook group I mentioned earlier this month?) just two blocks away, the New York City Sanitation Department hasn't made Brooklyn a plowing priority. And we have a lot of snow. Case in point: here is a photo of a snow-bound and abandoned MTA bus on Seventh Avenue, which I took this morning:

And, here is my block:

The YakTrax are good on packed snow and ice, but with a foot and a half of the unplowed stuff, I headed to the gym for my first ever treadmill hill workout.

Lots of treadmills have pre-programmed hill workouts, and the 'mills at the Park Slope NYSC are no different. Sweet, I figured. All I have to do is get on and run.

False. After asking me my height and weight and gender, how long in minutes I wanted to run, the maximum pace and grade I was willing to conquer, my top three requirements for a future spouse, and my mother's maiden name, my workout began with a walk. At a 0.5% grade. At that rate, 6 miles would have taken me clear into the second quarter of 2012.

So I scrapped the pre-programmed workout and decided I'd just adjust the grade as I saw fit, and try to keep up my pace. I sought solace in the words of wisdom doled out by The Plan: "you won't feel fast going uphill, but you'll feel strong." Well as long as I didn't have to be fast either, I was willing to complete this run.

I settled on a challenging, if a little boring, increase-and-stepback plan (ALERT: boring running stats ahead):

Mile 1 @ 1%, 7.3 mph

Mile 2 @ 2.5%, 7.1 mph

Mile 3 @ 2%, 7.2 mph

Mile 4 @ 3.5%, 6.9 mph

Mile 5 @ 3%, 7.1 mph

Mile 6 @ 5%, 6.7 mph

Mile 6 made me want to punch a baby, but my pride prevented me from slowing down any further. By the end of my run, I had climbed 875 feet, which I'm pretty sure is the equivalent of climbing up the side of the Empire State Building. Whoa I was totally kidding when I said that, but I just looked on the interwebs and it turns out that's 70% of the height of the Empire State Building. I am a badass!

So my first hill workout of the season is in the books. Best of all, by the time I was approximately 30 stories up in my hypothetical running tour of the New York City skyline, I hit 1500 not-at-all hypothetical miles run for the year. Damn. I bet Tyler, Texas is lovely this time of year...

(You're welcome for this post title, Milton ladies).

Gear Review: YakTrax

Oh hey, it's me again. Twice in one day! Just imagine how much blogging I would be doing if everyday was a work-free day!

Anyway, I know I just got finished saying that today was a rest day, but it just felt wrong to have an unexpected free day and not use my time to go for a run. So as soon as the plows went by, I was bedecked in tights and fleeces and gloves and gaiters, ready to explore. The piece de resistance? My YakTrax.

The YakTrax consist of a floppy rubber frame that stretch to fit over the bottom of your running shoe or hiking boot. The rubber strips on the sole of your shoe are fitted with steel coils that bite into ice and snow to give you traction when you're moving. I found them easy enough to stretch over my monstrously large feet (though maybe not something you'd want to use immediately after a manicure), and then fit snugly and comfortably. With 18 freshly fallen inches of the white stuff, I had everything I needed to put my YakTrax to the test.

I should stop for a moment here to provide some background. As I once mentioned in passing here, my fear of falling on ice and snow is not without reason. I went to college in Maine, where we planned our class schedules around Friday ski days. One Friday morning, as I was walking from my dorm to the dining hall, with ski boots slung over my back, I wiped out on icy asphalt and broke my tailbone. The weight of the boots on my back brought me down faster and harder than I thought possible. It absolutely sucked. In addition to being horrifyingly embarrassing ("Did you hear? Claire has a broken ass! She has to sit on an orthopedic pillow. It's hilarious. I think she's on the first floor of the library if you want to go see her and be convinced you should never hook up with her ever."), it actually hurt like hell, and I'm pretty sure all I got to show for it (in addition to the donut ass pillow) was extra strength Tylenol. I'd like to never again relive that incident.

But despite my traumatic experience, I put my trust in the YakTrax and set out for an easy jaunt around the 'hood in Connecticut. After approximately 3 minutes, I was sweating through my many layers. Running in fresh snow felt like a combination of running on the beach and cross country skiing - that is, so effing challenging. Between scrambling up hills on slushy, moving ground and carrying an additional 15 pounds of winter clothes on my body, my fun run was instantly a grueling workout. But on the plus side, the YakTrax kept me safe and fully upright, even on the steep downhills.

The packaging indicates you're not meant to use YakTrax on asphalt clear of snow (or indoors, which meant that after I put them on, I had to crawl on my hands and knees to get outside), so I tried to stick to the very sides of the roads, where the slush and ice hadn't been cleared. This also meant that, anytime I came to a cross street, I had to claw my way up a snow drift left behind by a snowplow. I found this whole process to be highly entertaining, but given that the only other signs of human life I saw were drivers of emergency vehicles, I wonder what they thought of my antics.

In any event, the YakTrax get the Will Run For Beer seal of approval, and I officially have no excuse not to run hills this winter even in the nastiest weather. What kind of sick Christmas present is this?!

Monday Wrap Up: Snow Day!

Coming to you live from my parents' kitchen table this morning, staring out at the roads that have yet to be plowed (that's what he said?) and "working from home" (no, definitely not working). The good news is that by yesterday evening, a snow day today was already looking likely, so I was free to spend the night enjoying one of my favorite Christmas presents: new beer!

Cup o Kyndnes Scotch Ale comes from Ommegang Brewery in Cooperstown, NY (see you on Thursday!). Ommegang is a traditional Belgian brewery, and Cup o Kyndnes has plenty of traditional Belgian-style traits: yeasty smell, sediment in the bottle (though hard to see, since this pours a rich chocolate brown). I'm not very familiar with Scotch Ales, but I thought this was a great drinking beer: smokey, coffee flavor, but with a hint of the sweet Belgian yeast. And at only 6.6%ABV, I handily took down the 750mL bottle. Tis the season! Anyway, thanks, Mom, for knowing what I really wanted for Christmas!

My mom also bestowed upon me some YakTrax for Christmas, so I was delighted to learn we would get some snow over the weekend. At this point, though, it looks like I'm going to need to strap on snowshoes if I want to get a run in today.

To the wrap up!

Number of Miles Run This Week: 26. I had a great, great 9 miler on Friday morning. The weather was as perfect as winter running weather gets: sunny, clear, not too windy. I tackled plenty of hills, and not a moment too soon: 2011 is upon us, and I'm staring down quite a race calendar. But first, I have another 14 miles to run before Saturday. 1500, here I come!

Number of Beers Consumed This Week: Tough to say. 10-ish?

Number of Beers Consumed This Week: In addition to the Ommegang Brew, I received another gift of beer this holiday season; my cousin gave me a bottle of Defiant Brewing Company's Christmas Ale, which I tasted on Christmas Eve. Mostly though, I spent the night drinking Bud Lights with my extended family, all of whom are Giants season tickets holders. The beer says "tailgate," but the talk said "funeral."

Now, to the important stuff: today is Day One of my Boston Marathon training! I'm using the same training plan I used for the Wineglass Marathon in October, and that seemed to work well enough - and by "well enough" I mean "miraculously enabled me to qualify for Boston."

Incidentally, this plan calls for rest days on Mondays, which is mostly a cruel trick to lull you into thinking the next 16 weeks won't be that hard. "Ooh, day one and I don't even have to run? Damn, I'm good at this!" Only 593.2 miles to go! Oh my God...

Lots of people have asked me what I want to achieve in Boston. I've been hesitant to say it out loud, or put it in writing, but in honor of Training Day 1 ("King Kong ain't got shit on me"), here it is: In Boston, I want to go sub-3:30. My palms are sweating for having revealed that.

With that, I'm off to begin my day: snow shoveling, ping pong playing, snow angel making, and cat wrestling. Cross training is an important part of marathon training, you know.

Whatever you're celebrating this season, I hope it brings you joy. Stay safe and warm out there!

1500 Miles

Tyler, Texas is 1500 miles from New York. Actually, it's 1495, but I figured if you stopped for a cup of coffee and a bathroom break, a couple tanks of gas, and a scenic overlook, the added mileage would round up to 1500. If you drove that distance, it would take you more than 25 hours.

If I cover 23 miles in the next nine days, I will have run that distance in a year.

I feel like Forest Gump.

First World Problems

I have quite literally been out every night for the past 734 nights. I counted. Between work holiday parties, work non-holiday parties, friend dinners, non-friend dinners, friend non-dinners, and non-friend non-dinners (that's code for "drinking alone with strangers"), I feel like I've been burning the candle at both ends and smack down the middle. With Boston training on the horizon (day 1 is next Monday. I'm sorry, what?), I've been anxious to log my base training miles while adhering strictly to my holiday policy of overindulgence. How ever will I find the time to run for leisure while balancing the ongoing need to taste every single food or drink put in front of my face? If you cut me, do I not bleed pinot noir?

After (yet another) evening event on Monday, I snoozed like it was my job this morning and hoped to abstain from alcohol at tonight's dinner to squeeze in a run afterward. And then I ate 437 holiday cookies (who says "no" to a frosted snowman? Those eyes made out of coal - they see into your soul!). Fearing I was starting to resemble the body type of a snowman, and with the blessing of my boss (who had mentally checked out for his Christmas vacation around December 5th), I snuck off to the gym for a mid afternoon run.

I've never quite understood the premise of mid-day workouts during the workweek (also known as lunchruns). As a woman, with hair that requires blowdrying and a face that requires make up, the prospect of showering after a workout and getting prepped to get back to the civilized working world is a daunting one. Combine that with the time it takes to get to the gym and we're looking at, oh I don't know, 4 and a half minutes left to spend on the treadmill. But with a flexible boss and a meeting-free afternoon, I decided to get in as much of a quality workout as allowable, given the fact that I was expected to at least be back at my desk at some point in the afternoon. I hopped on the 'mill and settled on 35 minutes of running.

Another fun fact about me: I hate being rushed. Don't get me wrong - there are plenty of days when I'd like to stop running after 4 and a half minutes. But the idea that I was limited to 35 today naturally made me want to run forever. So I settled on somewhat of a middle ground: 35 minutes at tempo pace.

The gym was practically empty when I arrived around 2:30pm, save for the Chelsea boys who I'm sure spend more hours lifting, preening, and checking themselves out in the mirrors than I do thinking up "that's what he said jokes," (which is to say, a lot). I hopped right on a treadmill and started out at a comfortable pace, gradually increasing the speed each mile. I finished 4.5 miles in 36 minutes, and still had time to shower and blow dry before heading back to the office. My apologies to my girlfriends, who saw me at dinner tonight rocking some type of retro mullet-y Suri Cruise 'do. Gym shampoo isn't the most volumizing... But overall, I'd say this was a success. No crowds, a reason to get some speedwork in, a convenient excuse to stare at well-groomed and well-muscled men (they practically get offended if you don't look!)? Yep, I'm a new fan of the lunchrun. And of anything that allows me to be out of the office for ninety minutes during a painfully slow time of year.

One last item worth mentioning: when I got home tonight, I had a Christmas card waiting for me from my dear friend Megan, who lives on the left coast and selflessly flew down from San Fran to LA when I ran the Surf City Marathon earlier this year. The note inside said "Here's to a 2011 full of love, laughter, and a San Francisco Marathon!" Looks like I've got some fun plans in Cali coming up on July 31st...

Sunday Wrap Up: On Heartbreak

I don't really want to talk about today's game, except to say that Matt Dodge and crew ruined my Christmas and make the baby Jesus cry. And that it's a good thing I didn't go to the game, because I would have been in the parking lot afterward flipping over cars and lighting trash on fire. Rioting is too a normal human emotion...

Number of Miles Run This Week: 28. After the devastating blow of this afternoon's game, I headed to the gym, thinking that a few miles and endorphins might lift my spirits. The impact wasn't lasting, so I've switched to alcohol.

Number of Beers Consumed This Week: 12. Also in the mix this week? Brunch with unlimited mimosas, and Mexican apple cider made with tequila. The accessibility and variety of good quality beer and liquor in Brooklyn in unprecedented. The whole place is like college, but with greater disposable income.

Types of Beers Consumed This Week: Ithaca Cold Front, Avery Old Jubilation Ale, Brooklyn Lager, Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale... and Coors Light. Don't worry; I haven't lost my frat house essence just because I moved to a hipper locale.

I think it was Mariah Carey who said it best:

"Heartbreaker, you got the best of me

But I just keep on coming back incessantly.

Oh why did you have to run your game on me?

I should have known right from the start you'd go and break my heart."

Keep going back, even after heartbreak? Run your game? Girl must be a Giants fan.

Brew Review: Ithaca's Cold Front

I stopped by the Chelsea Whole Foods when I left my office tonight to check out their beer selection and bring some fine liquid delicacies back to my apartment (note: I have yet to buy food). As always, I looked for something I'd never had before. After much scrutiny, I selected two worthy candidates to bring home with me (note: there's a joke to be made here about criteria for who gets to come home with me, but I won't make it because my mom reads this blog). Tempted as I was to curl up in bed with them the minute I walked in the door, I resisted the urge and instead went to the gym, where I had a struggly run. Dripping wet with sweat in the frigid temps as I trudged home after my workout, I was suddenly warmed by a thought: I have new and potentially delicious beers waiting for me!

The first beer I selected was Ithaca Beer Company's Cold Front, which seemed appropriate since it's actually 8 degrees outside with the windchill. (Note: Ithaca Beer Company also makes the abysmal Nut Brown Ale I mentioned in the wrap up a few weeks ago. But everyone deserves a second chance).

(Note: Yes that is a personalize New York Giants stein with my name on it)

This is a Belgian Dark Ale (Amber Ale, if you're to believe the label), which I don't know that I've had before. I know Leffe makes a Dark Ale, which I probably came across at one time or another, as I made my way, stumbling drunk, through Europe (note: Best. Vacation. Ever), but I've never really considered a Belgian Dark before (note: But if you know an attractive one, tell him to call me! Ba-dum-dum! No but seriously; my French is pretty good). This poured a cloudy, rust color with a very thick head - almost half the stein. It held up a good few minutes (note: that's what he said!) before dissipating into a foam. As soon as I brought the glass to my face, I could smell that pronounced sour, yeasty smell of a Belgian beer. Ithaca, way to step it up! So authentic.

In terms of taste, I'd rank this on the sweeter side. It's not a terribly complex flavor - mostly malty - but definitely enjoyable. Seasonal. Drinkable. Ithaca Beer Company, I'm glad I gave you a second chance!

And speaking of seconds, I'm going to get myself a second beer. Stay warm out there, kids.

For Shame, NYSC

Last Monday night, I hit the gym in time to catch the first half of the Jets-Pats game. Every single TV in the joint was tuned in. (It's worth noting that, when I went out to grab a beer and watch the second half of the game, it took us more than one try to find a bar whose TV was turned to ESPN. "The Good Wife" is not a show that should be screened in a sports bar, least of all not on Monday night's during football season. But mostly, ever.)

Tonight, I arrived at the gym midway through the first quarter of the Giants game. I only knew that because I checked the score on my phone when I arrived, as every TV was turned to "How I Met Your Mother." Which was being broadcast without subtitles.

Thank God I snagged a 'mill with a TV, which I promptly tuned to the game, which fired me up for a really good hour progression run:

20 minutes at 8:34 per mile

10 min @ 8:20/mi

10 min @ 8:12/mi

10 min @ 8:06/mi

5 min @ 8:00/mi

5 min @ 7:42/mi

And to you dudes who gave me the hairy eyeball every time I let out a sack scream or first down fist pump, my apologies if my enthusiasm for sport made you miss a critical plot point in the CBS comedy line up. You can probably catch it on Hulu or something...

Sunday Wrap Up: There's A Facebook Group for Everything

I haven't watched a lick of football today. It's a terrifying feeling. I considered going to the gym and watching some games on the treadmill, but instead I ordered sushi. That rules out a run today. I'm perfectly content to log a few miles post-beer, but I draw the line at raw seafood running.

Number of Miles Run This Week: 25. I had a great run in Prospect Park yesterday. There's a beastly hill on the East Side of the Park which runs alongside a swath of grass labeled "Nellie's Lawn." I just did a quick Google search to see if the hill was also named after Nellie. Instead, I found a Facebook group wholly dedicated to the hill in question, aptly named "I have a love/hate relationship with the uphill in Prospect Park." Its description is:

Biking, walking, running or rollerblading, that uphill near the eastern parkway entrance in Prospect Park is a bitch. Your heart sinks once you see the road turning upwards, that fucking hill at the end of your run. You pass by Nellie's lawn, you see approaching runners who have taken the easy way out, going down that damn uphill. But you keep going, every step you're closer to Grand Army Plaza. You see a sign that leads cars to Eastern Parkway and you know that you're almost done and you wanna fucking stomp on that damn uphill.
Seconds later, you look behind you and you have slaughtered the uphill. You spit on the cement and yell "Bam! I fucking bitch slapped you, uphill!!!"
While you dred that uphill everytime you get to it, you love the feeling of defeating it.
so fuck you, uphill, but we still love you

It has 21 members, presumably as equally impassioned about the hill as the group's creator. That's a lot of emotion for a hill. Also, a lot of bitch slapping.

Number of Beers Consumed This Week: 12. I played a drinking game last night, the rules of which no one besides the game facilitator knew, which required me to chug Keystone Light. I'm almost 27 years old. No.

Types of Beers Consumed This Week: Well, there were those Keystones, but (ever the good party guest) I also brought and consumed some Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale and Harpoon Grateful Harvest. I also had Blue Moon twice this week, which is weird, since it's December. Weirder still was that I drank it from a can. I'm all class this week, aren't I?

Despite my fatigue (or maybe that's just the Keystone Lights talking), I'm off to tackle a long night of cross training ahead. I dare you to name a household chore that is more of a workout than putting a duvet cover back on a duvet. I'm starting a Facebook group for that.

First Steps

First, I am blogging at 10:00pm on a Friday night. You may think this is because I am a loser. Quite the opposite. I am so popular and have had so many parties to attend and fun things to do that I was wearing myself ragged; finally, I had to start turning the invitations down. It's for my health and well-being!

Okay, fine, and I was overserved at my office party last night and have grounded myself for the evening as punishment. Not that I was the worst offender in the slightest; I did not cry, sing karaoke, break anything, talk about my dead dog, or insist "I'm fiiiiine" while stumbling to the bathroom, all of which did happen last night. I may have done a dramatic reading in a British accent though. Whatever, people liked it.

But let's rewind, shall we, back to Wednesday morning, when I opened my eyes (and didn't yet want to die from the effort) at an early hour and hopped out of bed and put on layer upon layer upon layer to go for my first run in Park Slope!

Well I guess we should rewind even further, because technically this wasn't to be my first first run in Park Slope. That happened way back in 2009, when I ran the Brooklyn Half Marathon the first time. I remember then getting dropped off in a cab and having to walk what felt like miles into the Park to find the start of the race, not entirely sure I was going in the right direction until I came upon a field of Porta Potties, which obviously indicates a running event is happening in the vicinity. Or a tailgate. I would have been delighted to have found either.

And so, fearful of getting lost on a Wednesday morning, when I had no meetings on my calendar and possibly wouldn't even be missed until Thursday at 2:00pm when I next had a meeting, I decided that I'd run the perimeter of the Park, and not the roadways within.

This actually turned out to be delightful (if freezing; 27 degrees with a windchill of 18. 4 layers on my top half. Winter, you are such a jerk). I had a chance to get my bearings, the apartment porn on Prospect Park West was highly satisfying, and I only had to stop to look at a map once. At roughly 4.5 miles, this is a solid short route to work into my rotation. It's substantially different from what was my regular route from my old apartment on East 22nd Street; gone are the flat straightaways of the East River (and the smeared fish guts on the sidewalk), replaced instead by some rolling hills. Which is a good thing, I suppose; I think I heard someone say something about a certain hill on the Boston course once or twice...

Now I must be off to do lunges or something. So many holiday parties, so little fabric used to make party dresses...

So Brooklyn

Last night after the gym, I headed to local bar to grab a beer (Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale) and watch the Jets-Pats game with Nicole. It being a Monday night, and this being Brooklyn, I went directly from the gym, clad in Kinvaras, a hoodie, and tapered-ankle sweatpants. I arrived at the bar a few minutes before Nicole and sat down to order a beer and chat a bit with the bartender. Who told me "I love your pants; you look so comfortable." Like I might have been wearing tapered-ankle sweatpants as some type of ironic fashion statement. Brooklyn is funny.

Sunday Wrap Up: Welcome to Brooklyn

Do I seem cooler to you than I was when you last heard from me? I am. I live in Brooklyn now.

Cheers from Park Slope! And yes I do have a cool haircut. I live in Brooklyn now.

Number of Miles Run This Week: 23. I went to the New York Sports Club in Park Slope this afternoon. The treadmills are on an elevated platform, which I had forgotten by the time I finished my run. Sorry to the girl on the stretching mat whose skull I almost crushed when I fell off. Maybe I'm not cool enough to live here...

Number of Beers Consumed This Week: 7. Paltry. I had a lot of work events this week, which meant I drank a lot of wine. People are intimidated by a girl in a cocktail dress holding a beer bottle. Also, 2 of the events were in churches. Not a lot of beer to be found there.

Types of Beers Consumed This Week: Who has heard of Ithaca Nut Brown Ale? I suggest you erase it from your memory immediately, because it's dreadful. It tastes like coffee grinds. Not dreadful was the Stone Vertical Epic Ale, which is served in a wine glass, which blows my mind. It's brewed with a couple different wine grapes (Muscat, Sauvignon Blanc, and that one that starts with a G and sounds like a sneeze [Gewurztraminer]). It drinks like a dry Sauvignon Blanc; not at all fruity. It also has a slightly spicy finish, which makes it a good winter seasonal. And speaking of seasonals, this season I moved to Brooklyn, so I drank a Brooklyn Brown Ale at lunch. Boom!

So you'll note from my wrap up that, rather than running in Prospect Park, which was high on the list of what drew me to Park Slope in the first place (and you, Nicole. And dudes with beards, of which there were many at the gym), I did my Sunday run at the gym. I am slightly ashamed of this. I'm tempted to check out the Park before work tomorrow, but it will largely depend on how many other normal-looking running people are out. It would totally suck if I got raped and mutilated on my first run in Brooklyn. Also, ever.

One last programming note before I leave you to do cooler things (though I bet my status as a blogger makes me pretty badass in this neighborhood. I should totally take my laptop out to the bar and blog from there. No, Claire, you absolutely should not do that.): I've been eager to add to my 2011 race calendar. I'm pleased to report that I've added both the Manhattan Half on 1/22 and the Colon Cancer Challenge 15k on 3/27. And best of all, I convinced Cate to join me for the 15k! You may remember Cate from "We'll Run For Beer" a few weeks back; first, she ate baked ziti pizza with me at 4:00am. Then she got lost in the Bronx trying to find Central Park. And then she was too hungover to drink for any portion of the beer run. It is my sincere hope and expectation that at least one of us with vomit during the race. I love having something to look forward to. Especially platonic vomit.

"I'm Pretty Good at Drinkin' Beer"

First, I survived the night despite ingesting spoiled acetaminophen. Thanks to all zero of you who expressed your concern...

Second, while I was busy last night whining about how hard it is to not go to work for a week and instead eat, drink, run, sleep, and eat and drink more, Tim over at Draft Magazine was busy naming me one of the 12 Beer Runners to Watch in 2011.

Says Tim: “Will Run For Beer blogger Claire Walsh has had an epic 2010. She smashed her marathon PR and ran an eye-popping and Boston qualifying 3:36:59. She drank a lot of good beer. And she followed that up with a victory lap (or several victory laps) with the inaugural We’ll Run For Beer bar crawl". Eye-popping?! Tim, you shouldn't have! (yes, you should. Shit was not easy.)

In all seriousness, this is a humbling and simultaneously bad assed (pronounced "ass-ed") honor. Take a look at my fellow Beer Runners who were recognized: Sara had BRAIN surgery. Suzi and Jason have lost more pounds combined than I weigh while holding a 30 rack six-pack (I gave myself too much credit... or too little body mass...), and didn't sacrifice the good (beer-filled) life for it. Caleb and Steve are both sub-3 hour marathoners. It seems perhaps there's been a mix up; I can't possibly be part of such an accomplished and awesome (and, as Nina pointed out, attractive) group.

Thanks to Tim and all the folks at Draft Magazine for this accolade. Thanks to all who made it out for the inaugural We'll Run For Beer last week. Thanks to Leslie who inspired me to organize it in the first place. Thanks to everyone I've ever had a beer with (the list is long). Thanks to everyone I've ever had a run with (shorter, but filled with cooler people). Thanks to everyone who has ever come out, early and cold, to watch me race (the shortest list of all, but those closest to my heart). And thanks to to fellas at DeJesus bodega for believing that 17 year old, 5' 11" Claire Walsh with her arms full of Coronas was 24 year old 5' 2" Cassandra Bujarski. I've come a long way, baby!

Monday Wrap Up: My Body Hates Vacations

The last time I took a few days off work was for Kelly's wedding, when I went to Ireland, ate fried things, drank beers, and came home with a miserable cold (also, I spent the flight home watching the two people across the aisle from me meet on the ground in Heathrow, talk for 4 hours [and 6 drinks], pass out spooning, and then awkwardly part ways in baggage claim in New York without exchanging numbers. It was a highlight of the trip).

Last week, I took time off work, ate breaded, cheese-filled, and/or mashed things, drank beers, and came down with a cold (and didn't get to bear witness to a single awkward exchange, my own perpetually inappropriate antics notwithstanding).

Since I have it on good authority that consuming only white bread and alcohol and no vegetables whatsoever is good for you (the 1950s were a boon to nutritionists everywhere), I can't imagine it's my dietary intake that undermines my immune system. My body just can't tolerate being on vacation. That must be it...

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 23. I had hoped to get in an even 30, but yesterday I slept until 9:00, ate and egg and cheese sandwich, went back to sleep until 1:00, watched the Giants' game, napped until 6:00, ate stuffing and mashed potatoes (and cranberry sauce! That's sort of vegetably. Fruity? Whatever), and went to bed for the night again at 8:30. So obviously I was very busy and unable to squeeze a run in.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: A few. Not nearly enough. I don't appreciate the scare tactics employed by the makers of Nyquil.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: I revisited the Stoudt's Imperial Oatmeal Stout and had a better experience this time around. I guess it goes better with stuffing than without. I also drank Bud Lights in my hometown last week. I felt 17 again. Only with a later curfew.

While I seem to be on the mend (and less narcoleptic than yesterday), I was just readying myself to take one last dose of Nyquil to really kick this cold. But I see that this particular package, from which I've been medicating myself for the last 3 days, expired in April 2009. Guess I'm safe to crack open a beer after all.

(If I'm not back tomorrow, please call poison control.)

Not Beer, Still Awesome

"There is one big push waiting inside you. Just keep going."

Happy Thanksgiving

Dear Dailymile,

There's a crucial element missing from my Virtual 5k Finisher Certificate below. I don't see anything in that fine print about how many beers I've earned. Isn't that the point of running anyway?

Happy Thanksgiving to all. Be grateful for the good times, but also the bad. After all, bad times make PRs possible. Love to you and yours this year.

Brew Review: Stoudt's Fat Dog and Harpoon's Grateful Harvest

In the spirit of giving thanks this week, I think you should all say "thanks, Claire!" because I'm about to give you not one but two brew reviews! Or is this holiday not about getting people to be thankful for you? Perhaps I've been doing this wrong...

First up, we have Stoudt's Fat Dog Imperial Oatmeal Stout. My dad and I picked this brew out together after he came across a new liquor store that had a great beer selection. Family trips to the liquor store constitute father-daughter bonding in my family, and I'm okay with that. Our criteria for selection were: new to both of us; domestic; not sucky. Neither of us had every had any beer from Stoudt's, which is located in Adamstown, PA. The third criteria was, of course, rather difficult to determine without tasting the beers in advance, but I had a good feeling about a beer with a dog on the bottle.

This beer poured very dark brown, with less than a finger's width of head which dissipated very quickly. Not the most promising of beginnings; I was looking forward to curling up with a hearty beer. The first pour gave off a caramel and coffee scent that gave me some hope. But I thought this drank very thin; the taste was a weak malty-caramel, with a hint of a bitter hops finish. There should have been much fuller flavor for a beer so dark and aromatic. And also so potent; at 9% ABV, this is a beer that's meant to be sipped and savored, but the fleeting taste meant you had to keep drinking to really savor the flavor. Which meant that I got drunk ASAP. Which was for the best, since I drank this while watching the Giants perform one of their famous late season choke jobs.

In summation, this beer was a major let down for me. But the folks over at Beer Advocate don't agree with me. If you've had this, let me know you're thoughts. And if you haven't had this, don't trust a beer just because it has a dog on the label.

Next up is the Harpoon Grateful Harvest Cranberry Ale. I snagged this while browsing at the liquor store on Friday (some girls browse at Bloomingdales... okay fine I do that too...). "Cranberry Ale" was at first a turn off, but I think Harpoon makes a good product, so I was willing to give it a shot. And, as a sucker for a good cause, $1 from every six pack sold is donated to your local food bank. Guys, it's for charity. I basically had to try it.

This beer poured an amber-orange with a frothy head and a subtly sweet, almost citrus-y aroma. The taste was malty and a little nutty, with the same citrus notes through the finish, but very smooth and palatable. Notably, this is not a fruit beer. Yes, even though I used "citrus" twice in the preceding sentence, and the beer has "cranberry" in the name. It's not too sweet, it's not too fuity-smelling. It has a complex, really interesting taste, and is one of those beers that surprises me. I thought this was a great, easy-drinking beer, and I look forward to drinking it in abundance this holiday season. It's for charity, people!

Whatever you choose to drink this Thanksgiving season, may you enjoy it with the ones you love!

Sunday Wrap Up: The Inaugural "We'll Run For Beer"

I've been really fortunate to have achieved so many of my running goals over the past several years: I've raced every distance from the mile to 26.2 of them. I've finished 9 marathons. I've qualified for Boston. But without a doubt, my proudest running accomplishment is the successful orchestration of today's inaugural "We'll Run For Beer" event. That I managed to pull this off after having been eating baked ziti pizza on a pull out couch at 4 o'clock this morning only makes this feat all the more special. Or miraculous...

When I first woke up this morning, I thought to myself "oh hell no. What's a good reason for me to cancel this run?" And then immediately after, I thought "oh hell no. I'm going to be revisited by that baked ziti pizza." Luckily I managed to stave off imminent vomit and tried to close my eyes and sleep for another couple of hours. At 10:00am, after watching Cate finish off the last of the pizza, I made my way uptown for the beer run.

I made a quick pit stop at Starbucks and then headed to the gym to a) change out of my pajamas, which I wore under my winter coat and with my bright orange Saucony Kinvaras because I am a fashion plate, and b) drop off my gear for the afternoon. The weather was just perfect, which lifted my spirits and cleared my head a fair amount. I headed over to the Park at 11:45 and waited for the crew.

Soon enough, the masses (18 of us in total, plus Joe's daughter, who - at 19 months - was the youngest participant in the beer run) were assembled at the Engineer's Gate. I wasn't really sure how to kick-off the event (the New York Road Runners did not offer to lend me their cannon), so I said a few words, offered to lead everyone in a group stretch (declined), quickly reviewed the course and planned stops, and then we were off!

We started up Park Drive and I had a chance to run with Carlos for a bit and hear about his NYCM recovery. NYCM was his debut marathon, and he ran it in 3:36. I meannnnnn. Despite pangs of jealousy (or was that just the baked ziti pizza fighting back?), it was great to talk about his race schedule and what's on the agenda for him in the future. Sure enough, NYCM won't be his only marathon.

At the 102nd Street transverse, we cut across town and then headed South on the West Side of Park Drive for a mile or so. I diligently shouted out directions to be sure that those both in front and behind knew where we were headed (apparently my map wasn't sufficient). After powering up one of those beastly West side hills, we cut out of the park and arrived at our first stop, 1.75 miles from our start: Dive Bar. The beer list was much more comprehensive than I'd expected, and I enjoyed a Dive Bar Amber Ale.

Brad and Monty were waiting for us at stop one. Which meant that Monty hadn't yet had a chance to break in his brand new sneakers!

Some participants cabbed for beer instead. I don't judge.

Susan and Michelle getting after it

Solid NYC crew: Baker, Weber, Maura, Maura, and Neal

The whole gang at Dive Bar, just after a man rode his bike through our photoshoot.

The libations at Dive Bar loosened everyone up sufficiently, and as we set off for the second leg, we were noticeably more excited (and excitable). There was much cheering and shouting and calls of "Beer Run!" and invitations to strangers to join us as we made our way down to 90th Street and back into the Park.

Action shot. Monty's getting some use out of those sneakers and Carlos looks super psyched to get another beer.

The Park took us along the scenic if circuitous route, but 1.4 miles later, we arrived at stop 2: Firehouse.

Thumbs up for socks with beers on them. I win!

Of all the stops, Firehouse had the least interesting beer selections, but it was still a solid choice for the run as it was spacious and gave us a chance to check out the scores. And it gave Monty a chance to pimp out Joe's baby. Normal. After putting back a Red Hook, I rallied the troops and were off for leg 3. The shortest leg of our journey, we kept to the streets and avenues of the UWS, terrorizing the neighborhood.

Cate also terrorized Harlem earlier in the day after a rogue subway took her a bit too far uptown...

Next up was Amsterdam Ale House, which had a very interesting and comprehensive beer selection. They lose points, however, for lack of bartenders and little space for moving around. The bar is long and narrow, so we all stood shoulder to shoulder drinking our beers and sweating on the patrons enjoying brunch.

For the last leg, another 1.4 miles, we headed back into the Park. Baker took off at a solid clip, and Carlos, Susan, Neal and I gave chase. As we tore down Park Drive, Baker chatted amiably and I sucked wind and begged for mercy. When we left the Park at 63rd Street, Baker and Carlos took off in a full on sprint, and I just hoped they wouldn't drink all the beers before the rest of us arrived at the final stop.

Get these runners a beer!

Once at PJ Clarke's, where we had a chance to regroup, I took an informal survey of all the participants regarding their thoughts on the first "We'll Run For Beer." In short, everyone agreed I'm amazing. I love surveys!

Happy beer runners

Not bad for being five beers and five miles in

In all, I think the afternoon was a success and I'm so glad we had such good turnout and everyone had a good time. Thanks so much to everyone who made it out today. I'm already looking forward to the next one. And I'll try not to go out the night before.

As for the wrap up:

Number of Miles Run This Week: 30. After the beer run, and a cheeseburger at PJ Clarke's, I headed back up to the UES to collect my gear at the gym. Running those last 2 and a half miles was not easy. I also snuck in another 3 miles in the Vibrams this week, logging an easy run along the water with my Dad yesterday. So I pretty much deserved that late-night pizza. I worked hard this week.

Number of Beers Consumed This Week: If memory serves me correctly (and it hardly ever does when I'm trying to recount how many beers I had in a week), about 20? 5 today, 9 yesterday (sorry Mom...), 2 Friday, 2 Thursday, and probably 2 more I don't remember.

Types of Beers Consumed This Week: A couple interesting ones made it into the mix this week. Harpoon's Grateful Harvest Cranberry Ale is awesome, and I'll do a full review of that later this week. Red Hook, Guinness, Brooklyn Lager, Sixpoint Cream Ale (that might have been the beginning of the end for me on Saturday night...) - the list goes on. A solid representation. Of alcoholism.

So many miles, so many beers, so many reasons I can't wait to pass out tonight. I don't think I've ever been this excited for bed. If you need me, I'll be under the covers until about 2pm tomorrow.