Sunday Wrap Up: Turns Out, I'm Not Psychic

Great news: I did not eat any children yesterday! I did eat a turkey sandwich, nap for 2 hours, then drink in Park Slope, Hell's Kitchen, and Williamsburg, celebrating 2 birthdays in 2 boroughs and tucking myself into bed just shy of 2:00am. That's a lot of 2s! Also in the 2 family? The number of minutes I was off of my predicted finish in today's prediction run.

Despite my late night, I was up at 6:55am and on my way to Central Park by 7:30 for the next in a series of races put on by the new and growing league, the New York Rogue Runners. . The stakes were high for today's race; thanks to Cardiac Crusher Brewery, the prize was homebrewed citron hefeweizen. Now normally I couldn't compete with speediest members of the Runner's Army, but today's race had unusual terms. Rather than fastest finish time, the winner of Cardiac Crusher's Prediction Run was s/he who came closest to finishing in the amount of time s/he predicted for the 4 mile course.


Having run a pretty fast 15 miles yesterday, and running a few warm up miles that felt pretty creaky (and also having stayed out drinking with hipsters until 2:00am...), my strategy was to predict a fairly easy 33:20, or 8:20/mile. The trick, of course, is that you can't wear your Garmin or another timing device in the prediction run, so if you are not very good at pacing (and also a little tired and hungover), predicting your finish time becomes a bit of a challenge. But I was pretty confident that predicting a finish time in line with an easy pace run would mean I'd be drinking citron hefewiezen tonight.

After reviewing the course and collecting our predictions, Joe started his timer and we were off. The field was 6 deep, and top 3 took home some beer, so my confidence was further buoyed. Unfortunately, that enthusiasm led me to start out at a pace I knew was too fast. It's hard to toe a line next to other runs, have someone shout "go!," and not take off at an aggressive pace. After coming across 72nd and climbing Cat Hill, I thought I had tempered my pace a bit. I continued up to 110th 102nd* and tried to tell myself not to speed up, but just maintain my pace.


When we hit the west side hills, I was sure I was slowing down, and could practically taste the citron hefe with about a mile to go. I kept saying "don't speed up, don't speed up" and even considered a 5 second pause just before the finish line to counteract any residual speediness, but ultimately decided I'd feel like a total asshole if I did that and then turned out to be slower than my prediction. I turned the corner at 72nd St and had to say out loud "don't sprint to the finish!" I ran through Abbe and Baker's power arch and finished in 31:16. Two minutes and 4 seconds off. I was the second finisher of the day, and stood in second place. Until Robin, Amy, and Elyssa finished and knocked me back to 5th (thankfully Maura is even less psychic than I). If only I hadn't broken my Magic 8 Ball on the subway this morning!




Loser. And thanks, Joe, for the pic.

Congrats to Robin, Baker, and Amy for their wins. Thanks for nothing with that whole not sharing with Claire thing.

Winner!

I'd love to use this opportunity to provide you with a brew review of Cardiac Crusher's Citron Hefeweizen, but regrettably there were no awards for participants (though I do have a lovely, handmade bib to show for my efforts). That said, I have had the chance to sample other of the breweries fine intoxicants, and can speak highly of them, so if you ever have the chance, I recommend you sample them too. If that means you need to get good at pacing, though, I apps toy can't help you there.

Number of Miles Run This Week: 40. That required 2 (awesome) naps this weekend.

Number of Beers Consumed This Week: 7, but I'm actually about to crack another, because there's no real football on TV tonight, which makes me sad.

Types of Beers Consumed This Week: Stella, Long Trail Pale Ale, and Leffe Brown. We went to Berry Park in Williamsburg last night which had quite an impressive beer selection. Unfortunately it also had an insane wait to get a beer, and a creepy drunk lingering at the bar who was burning holes in my ass with his leering, so by the time I finally got to order, I grabbed two Leffes and hightailed it back to the table. But it might be worth another visit to try what else is on tap.

Now if you'll excuse me, it's time for that beer I mentioned, and to spend the next week functioning with a high level of anxiety on account of the Super Bowl.

*You'd think I'd know the course better, given that I demanded Joe review it at least three times before we started.  Can you tell I don't do many NYRR races?  Though it would have been pretty sweet if I ran even further than 4 miles and still ran a 31 and change.  Thanks for the correction, T!

The Monster of Park Slope

I had one of those "whoa, I seriously love running" kind of runs today. 15 miles in 2:01. I went everywhere: a loop of Prospect Park, down Flatbush to Atlantic, across Court, over the Brooklyn Bridge, through Chinatown, down to Battery Park, and up the West Side. Everyone was so happy to be outside in the sunshine and 40 degree weather in January, running or biking or celebrating Chinese New Year, that I couldn't help but be in a good mood.







(That's a dragon in Chinatown, for the holiday. And do you like my new, blue Kinvaras?)

I felt strong and fast and happy as I grabbed a Gatorade and hopped on the train home.

But then, something awful happened.

I should have known better, but in my post-long run euphoria, I got back to Brooklyn, put on dry clothes, and started picking up my room. I made my bed, I updated DailyMile, got on Twitter, and took a look at the New York Times. Also, obviously I drew pictures of my run on my iPad.

What I did not do was give the post-long run hungers the respect and attention they deserve. And now, I am ravenous.





I will eat any Park Slope child (and his/her Razor scooter) who gets between me and La Bagel Delight right now. You've been warned.

Brew Review: Shipyard Pumpkinhead

Remember when, approximately two and a half months ago, I was all excited to conduct a Halloween-themed brew review? And then I got a cold on Halloween weekend and was a little bitch and couldn't muster the energy to even put on my lobster costume, let alone drink beers? And then it was time for me to run a 60k (because I am an ultramarathoner) and then it was Thanksgiving, and then it was Christmas, and then I went to St. John and drank my weight in Corona and Carib and now here we are today, never having had those fall seasonals?

Well tonight I decided to do something about that. In part, this was because it was raining and I didn't want to go outside to buy new and different beers and decided to make due with what was already in my fridge, and in part this was inspired by my reading of "Brewed Awakening" by Joshua M. Bernstein, which has lit a fire under my brew reviewing butt. (That's a post for another day). So while I whipped up some dinner, I cracked open the solitary Shipyard Pumpkinhead that's been in my fridge since October.






As I poured this into a pint glass, I was hit with a pumpkin pie spice aroma. Not like, "hmm, this is subtle and smells vaguely like something that reminds me of pumpkin pie," but "this is made with McCormack's brand, pre packaged pumpkin pie spice from the grocery store." It was weird to encounter a smell so specific and yet so not a typical beer smell.

My first sip was actually pleasantly surprising; this beer tasted like cinnamon, and had potential for an enjoyable, warm-you-up-on-a-January-night beer. Eagerly anticipating sip number two, I left my beer to hang out for a few minutes and finished up my dinner.

When I came back to my beer and took anther sip, I was aghast; this tastes like dirty vegetables covered in cinnamon! Again, it was weird to taste something so specific that was also so atypical for beer, but this tastes like dirty vegetables covered in cinnamon! Who drinks this?! It's awful!

I'm reluctant to shit on Shipyard because I support Maine businesses, and it's my own fault for picking this beer, because I already knew I didn't like pumpkin beers. But seriously, who does like this stuff? I know you're out there (Brad). What is the draw? Do you like other pumpkin things? Coffee, cheesecake, muffins, and stuff? I hate all those things too, so again, I wasn't going into this tasting with the most open mind, but I'm really astounded that so many people seem to love this and other pumpkin beers. I poured this beer out.

In summation, I know there are people out there who like this beer and other pumpkin things. I am not one of them, even when those pumpkin things are produced by a brewer I usually like. If you do, you're a freak who drinks dirty vegetables. Good luck with that.

Sunday Wrap Up: Game Day

Having learned the hard way to not swear I'm going to run after cheering the Giants to victory with Abbe and Baker (and by "hard way," I mean "very acutely intoxicated way"), I slogged through 10 slushy miles around Prospect Park this afternoon so I could devote my undivided attention to the game this evening at Abbe's place.

Things I am bringing to watch the game:
- one bottle of red wine
- one case of beer (Saranac's Adirondack Trail Mix, which I think is a crowd pleaser even if not all in your crowd are beer drinkers)
- Giants jersey
- Giants sweatshirt
- Giants hat
- personalized crystal Giants beer stein (wrapped for protection in a Giants t-shirt)
- compression socks
- cat treats

Just your usual assortment of game day necessities.

Number of Miles Run This Week: 31. I ran 10 miles in 1:23 on the treadmill yesterday while it snowed outside and considered quitting 4 times per mile. I ran 10 miles through day-old slush in Prospect Park today in 1:20 and thought about running further (had to quit to give myself time to pick up cat treats). It makes me mad that my body can't be satisfied with warm air and towels and Kardashians and instead insists on actually experiencing winter running in all it's wet and cold and not-in-front-of-the-TV-watching-E! glory.

Number of Beers Consumed This Week: Just 4 so far, but I've got these 12 beers here, and it seems I accidentally got on a train to Crown Heights and not Manhattan, so there are no promises that all 12 will still be full by the time I get to Abbe's. In 9 hours. Jesus, where is Crown Heights?

Types of Beers Consumed This Week: Brooklyn Lager, Stella, Guinness.

If you love me, or even just find me mildly entertaining, please oh please cheer for the Giants today. I don't know that I've ever wanted anything more than this win. Except maybe a win in 2 weeks in Indy. And also to find my way out of Crown Heights in time for kick-off.

Update: It's Still Winter

Legs stayed so cold this morning that my perceived level of exertion for hill repeats was the same as that for my warm up miles. In my mind, that's actually a good thing: "hey, these hill repeats are as easy as warming up!" But that's because my mind has never studied exercise science. In reality, it's probably a good way to expedite muscle tears. And/or a lifelong fear of warming up: "hey, these warm up miles are just as hard as hill repeats!"

Stay warm out there.

Sunday Wrap Up: How to Wrap Up When it's REALLY Cold

If you're a runner living anywhere north of, say, the Washington, DC area, chances are you know how to dress for runs in 30 and 40 degree weather.  But unless you're living in Maine, it can be hard to figure out what to wear when it's really cold.  Sub-20 degrees cold.  Wind chill factor in the single digits cold.  Sure, you could say "that's easy; I wear shorts and a tank top and get on the treadmill in the climate controlled gym, fool!"  And sometimes I do say that.  But sometimes I just want to breath actual air.  Even if that air immediately freezes all my nose hairs.


Lucky for you people, I was treated to just those conditions when I woke up this morning.  15 degrees.  Windchill factor at a nice round zero.  While I was glad I knocked out my long run for the week yesterday, I still had 5 miles on the schedule today, and a hankering to be in the sunshine for awhile, before I locked myself in a dark bar for 4 hours to watch football later today.  So, I knocked back a few cups of coffee and bundled up.

(I'm standing in front of the refrigerator for added coldness).


Now, that looks totally ridiculous.  I know this.  And I am the proud owner of lots of top of the line wicking fabrics and technical tees and all sorts of expensive and fashionable stuff designed for winter running and not looking like a homeless person.  I wear that stuff when it's 30 degrees, and I look good doing it.  But when it's really cold, I end up combining the fancy stuff with the good old fashioned gear that got me through ski school twenty years ago.  I look horrifying, but everyone else outside is so cold they have their heads down and don't even notice.  


So what is all that crap?

Working my way up from the bottom:


Ski socks: I wear ski socks while running when it's bitterly cold.  Not only is the fabric around the foot thicker, but the knee-length socks keep more of my lower legs warm as well.  I don't care what Nike says; wool was the original technical fabric.  A word to the wise, though: because ski socks are so thick, you've gotta tie your sneaks loosely if you want to be able to retain circulation to your lower extremities.


Long underwear: I owe a great many pairs of running tights.  The best kinds for regular winter running are those that are fleecey on the inside and stretchy Lycra on the outside.  Under Armor makes good ones.  But when it's bitterly cold, I find that the shiny Lycra on the outside stays very cold on the surface, and that surface is close to your skin.  While these kinds of tights keep your muscles warm, they leave your skin frigid.  Plain old cotton long underwear in a heavy weave keeps your body heat in and doesn't get cold on the surface.  Plus, when it's this cold out, you're not sweating buckets, so you don't have to worry about getting soaked (my thighs generally don't sweat buckets anyway, but if that's a concern for you... ew).


Shorts: Normally, I find it patently ridiculous that anyone would wear shorts over tights. But. Cotton long underwear does let in a bit of a breeze in the areas where it isn't as tight to your body, and one of those areas is the Junk.  To prevent genital wind burn, and to keep the big muscle groups of my legs (quads and ass) extra protected from the cold, I throw on a pair of shorts over the long underroos.


Under Armor Cold Gear: You can't see it in the picture above, but I'm wearing a long sleeved Cold Gear top.  It's amazing how warm this top keeps your muscles.  While wrestling into a compression shirt is kind of annoying, it's worth the effort.  However, because this top has that same Lycra surface on the outside that makes your skin cold, I top it with...


Fleece Jacket: I have no idea who makes this jacket or to whom it belongs.  I just found it in a closet at my parents house.  It's just a plain old zip front fleece.  Gets the job done.


Gaiter: The Under Armor top has a mock turtleneck, which doesn't offer much coverage, and the fleece jacket has a cold metal zipper.  A gaiter keeps the lower half of your face warm and prevents wind burn, which is ugly.


Gloves AND mittens: This renders your hands completely useless, but who needs hands when you're running?


Wool hat: I wear a baseball hat for everyday runs because my hair is too slippery to be restrained otherwise (note to self: be less greasey). A wool hat with ear covering is a must.


Sunnies: The sun is strong even when it's freezing out.  Protect your peepers, kids!


Of course, putting on that many layers means you have to start running as soon as you're dressed, otherwise you risk the ski school meltdown of being too hot and uncomfortable indoors.  It's a fine, fine line.


Number of Miles Run This Week: 40. Do as I say, not as I do.  I only ran 16 miles last week.  Using the 10% rule, I should have increased my mileage to just about 18 this week.  That'd get me ready for Boston in, oh, 2014.


Number of Beers Consumed This Week:  TBD.  I'm at about 8 right now, but I'm headed back to the City today to watch the Giants game.  If it's anything like last weekend, I will be increasing this figure by drastically more than 10% as well.


Types of Beers Consumed This Week:  Lake Effects APA, Sam Adams, Stella.


Neal and I have 12 beers riding on this game, and since the Giants are most assuredly going to win, I'd welcome suggestions as to what beers I should demand from him.  Take to the comments!

Brew Review: Lake Effects APA

Before we get to the good stuff, some administrative details to cover:


1) ZOMG Olympic Marathon Trials!!  Meb has been my favorite since way back, on account of my own African roots, and by that I mean the one time I studied abroad for 6 months in a country thousands of miles away from Eritrea but on the continent of Africa.  Regardless of the veracity of my ancestral claims, I am really psyched he won, especially after basically every sponsor turned their back on him this season and he ended up running in Sketchers.  Seriously.  That's his shoe sponsor.  Dude basically ran a PR in toning sneakers and won the Olympic trials.  What did you do today?


2) Remember how in 2011 I became an ultramarathoner?  Here is a picture, in case you have forgotten:

Well I started thinking that now it's 2012, which means I ran an ultramarathon last year.  That's not very impressive.  It's like, "yeah I weighed 120.  In 10th grade." There's a statute of limitations on these things.  So, I decided I needed a 2012 ultra.  Behold, the NJ Ultra Festival!  This day of fun falls on March 24, 2012, which is the same weekend I'm scheduled to do my last long run before Boston - 22 miles.  And what's the difference, really, between 22 miles and 50k?  (Really, it's 9 miles).  So I signed on up, and I'll be competing in my first trail ultra (slash trail anything...) in about 70 days.  Be prepared to fawn over me all over again.


Okay, on to the task at hand: a brew review!

Pearl Street Grill & Brewery is in Buffalo, New York.  I've not been to the Brewery, and probably haven't been to Buffalo since I was about 14 and still thought beer tasted bad and drank it only in a mad frenzy under the cloak of darkness before my 11:00pm curfew.  But now that I'm a sophisticated adult human with a highly refined palate (related: I'm making Pigs 'N Blankets for dinner), I can be appreciate the good stuff.  And lucky for me, my Uncle John lives in Buffalo and brought me the good stuff last time he came to visit.  And this is indeed good.


The aroma is straight hops, but the taste is slightly more nuanced.  It's hoppy to be sure, but also warm and malty - the perfect beer to warm me up after 12+ cold and windy miles this afternoon.  The progression of flavors is actually the opposite of what I'm used to and was expecting; rather than going from hoppy to a smooth finish, the Lake Effects APA starts with an almost caramel smoothness, and then finishes with a bit of bite from the hops.  I don't taste any citrusy notes, but that could be due in equal measure to my inability to appreciate such subtleties and the fact that this growler is 6 weeks old (relax; it's only been open for... 3 weeks...).  It may have poured with some sediment, or this dishwasher might not be very effective at cleaning pint glasses.  Even though it's considered a Pale Ale, this beer definitely trends toward IPA in terms of the level of hoppiness.  And it goes very well with Pigs 'N Blankets, which is the official barometer for any easy-drinking beer.

In summation: if you live in the Buffalo area, it's worth your while to drop into Pearl Street Grill & Brewery and snap up some of this.  And while you're there, grab me another growler too, since I polished this one off washing down those dogs.  

More on Morning Runs

Despite my adamant assertions to the contrary earlier this week, there are some perks to being an evening runner. Yesterday, for example, I managed to drag myself around Prospect Park after work for the following workout:

3x1 miles at tempo (7:20)
4x half mile hill repeats
1x1 mile at tempo
1x1 mile cool down

3 tempo miles on their own are a challenge for me, and hill repeats in Prospect Park are among those workouts that give me sweaty palms thinking about them because they’re so difficult and I hate them so much. To combine those two workouts seemed impossible. To run another tempo mile after all of that should have been impossible. But after work yesterday, it all came together for me and I got that "I'm a better athlete than you!" feeling, even though it was nighttime.

The New York Times ran an article about all this a few years back, summarizing that not only are your muscles more pliable after a full day of doing whatever it is you do (what I do is sit at a desk all day, but I suppose my hourly trips to refill my water/pee/go to Starbucks/check the mail constitute more activity than sleeping), but your body is also able to generate and sustain a higher heart rate for longer during the evening hours. They go so far as to say that athletes looking for a PR should consider late day event starts. So I’m not the only person who experiences a spike in performance in the evening!

And yet. The trick for me is the actually going running after work. Whereas I feel morally superior to other athletes by running in the morning, I feel morally superior to the girls featured on Teen Mom 2 by watching it in the evenings. (And also by not getting knocked up at 16. Or 27. Fingers crossed!). I had to remind myself all afternoon that I was running after work yesterday, and spent the train ride home dreading it. By the time I reached my apartment, I was telling myself “forget the hill workout; just run for 20 minutes and then come home and watch mindless television.” By 7:30pm, there was about a 10% chance I was actually going to tackle my workout. Last night, I may have beaten the odds, but generally speaking, Teen Mom wins.

So what’s a runner to do? The honest answer is: run whenever you’ll actually do it. Running takes a certain amount of sacrifice, but unless you’re going to the Olympic trials to win it this weekend, it’s okay to be realistic about what you’re willing to give up, and more importantly, what you’re not. If you need your beauty sleep in the morning, you don’t have to sign up for a 5:30am spin class. If you orchestrate your company happy hour, then don’t join a running group that meets at 6:00pm. Find what works for you. And then find a way to be smug and superior about it.

And if you’re 16 and Pregnant, maybe now isn’t the best time for you to take on marathon training.

But I AM a Morning Runner!

I've always considered myself a morning runner; if I don't wake up and run before work, the odds are good that after work, I'll either be lacking in motivation or abundant in invitations to do things more fun than running. But according to the nifty Dailymile year-end report, 60% of my workouts last year were in the post meridiem hours!




Perhaps this is because sometimes I am too hungover/still drunk to run in the mornings on Saturdays and Sundays. And Thursdays. But even when you take into consideration all those instances (and there are many), I still identify as a morning runner.

In all honesty, part of me is annoyed over this revelation; morning runners to me seem more committed to their craft. "Look at me! I wake up at 5:30am! This is because I am willing to make sacrifices for my sport and am therefore a superior athlete!" In fact, I deliberately send emails at 5:30am to demonstrate that "hey, I am awake right now because I am that much better than you at running!" (Seriously; I did that this morning). I even ruined Christmas last month because I insisted on running in the morning, before we opened presents.

Dailymile, you have shaken me to my very core (which shakes quite a bit, because while I do a lot of running, apparently at all hours of the day, I don't do any core work, morning, noon, or night). If I could be so wrong about when I think I am actually doing my running, what else am I wrong about? Am I not tall and skinny and pretty? Am I not hilarious and a talented writer? Am I not modest?

But, this discovery also opens the door to some new possibilities. If running is actually an evening sport, does that mean beer is really a breakfast food?!

(Mom: I'm kidding. But thanks for that vote of confidence you subtly gave me when you asked if I was drinking alone during the Giants game. I'll see you at my intervention).

Monday Wrap Up: Reset Button

Thought I hit the ole reset on training Saturday, when I knocked out 11 miles in Prospect Park. My triumphant return! But then the Giants played the early game yesterday, so my morning was spent preparing and my afternoon (and evening. And night...) was spent celebrating their victory. Try again.

It's funny because I was all self-satisfied and haughty last week as I heard so many others talk about their fitness-related resolutions. Fitness, I thought, was the one area I didn't need to resolve to do anything. It was already a priority and a routine for me.

Routinely ignored over the last week.

Enough of this nonsense; it's already week 3 of Boston training! At this time last year, I couldn't even walk, thanks to a New Years injury, and would have punched my future self for having the opportunity to get down to Boston training and not take advantage. Don't disappoint past Claire!

Number of Miles Run last Week: Ugh, maybe 16. Dailymile thinks 21, but some of those were hiking miles. 16 is weak, but in my defense, this is an actual elevation chart from a run in St. John last week:


Try running those hills without having had 15 beers and inhaling 29% DEET bug spray the night before.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: More than what most healthy people will drink in all of 2012. When we got back on Wednesday night, I was committed to drying out a bit. And then the Giants played (and won!) yesterday and I was undry.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: Carib, Corona, Bud Light, Brooklyn Lager (not in St. John), Goose Island IPA.

Week 3! Go!

Reality Bites

"I'm not going to work at the Gap for Chrissakes!"

It's back to the real world today for everyone's favorite beer runner (me). To remind you, this is what I saw when I woke up yesterday, and the 6 days before:



And this is what I saw when I woke up today, and will see every day for the next, oh, forty years:


It's like the depressing version of those "first day of retirement photo" commercials.

Give me a day to not kill myself or freeze to death in response to the 55 degree temperature differential between NYC and St. John and then I'll fill you in on my (minimal) running adventures and my (maximum) consumption of beer.