On the Run: Chicago

Greetings from the Midwest!  As you might have heard, it's cold here.

But cold or no, I had a 16 miler to run this week, and with a snowstorm expected to hit tomorrow, and the hotel fitness center thermometer locked at 300 degrees, I decided to brave the great outdoors and run long today.  At first, this proved difficult.

Normally, that white stuff is a combination of concrete and lake.  Today it was neither, which made the first (and last, since I ran an out-and-back route) 2 miles of my run somewhat treacherous.  Eventually, however, I reached a long stretch of the Lakefront Trail that was free of snow and ice (and most other people), and I was able to run 16 miles without fearing for my life.

(Except for the part where I accidentally ran a little too far South, where the trail borders the real murdery parts of Chicago.  Don't worry Mom; it was daytime and I'm fast).

After my run, I had only enough time for a quick shower before I had to head to a lunch meeting with clients, all of whom were then exposed to post-long run hunger.  You weren't going to eat that bread/French fry/porterhouse steak, were you?  Great, thanks.

Wednesday Wrap Up: What's the Best Kind of Workout?

Waking up early is not a problem for me. In part, this is because a certain furry roommate of mine does most of his foot-biting and arm-scratch in the 6 o'clock hour, but also, I'm usually just done sleeping by then. Of course, then I'm tired and have to go to bed by 10pm, which makes it easier to wake up again at 6am. It's a self-fulfilling prophesy. Or something.

Because of the hours I keep, the majority of my workouts are done in the mornings. Sure I've been known to hit the snooze if I've been out late or the morning forecast is abysmal. But mostly, I'm out the door for a run before I've even made purchased coffee from Dunkin Donuts downstairs.

I don't know if it's from years of having this routine, or I established the routine for this very reason (or its just a love of alcohol), but I severely lack motivation to work out in the latter half of the day. Sometimes I can force myself, especially if it's a recovery workout, but otherwise, my enthusiasm for exercise diminishes as the day goes on, and by about 4pm, I'm ready for a drink. Which is a shame during the week, because I don't actually leave work until between 6:30 and 7:00. In any event, P.M. workouts and I don't mix, and I know it.

And yet.

This weekend my schedule was jam packed, so when I was greeted Saturday morning with the possibility of a leisurely breakfast and trip to Home Depot with a handsome man, I jumped at the chance (definitely it was the Home Depot that sold me; nothing to do with the handsome man...). My long run could wait until the afternoon.

Of course, afternoon rolled around and I wanted to take a nap. And clean my apartment. And look at the internet. And just generally not do my long run. Sure enough, I spent enough time procrastinating that my long run didn't happen on Saturday.

Just a gentle reminder, to me as much as anyone, that the best kind of workout is the one you'll actually do. For me, that kind is a morning run.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 44. I did ultimately get that long run done, because I woke up on Sunday and did it first thing. Which was great, because then I ate a huge brunch and didn't feel bad about having a 30-egg omelette with a side of bacon-stuffed croissants and a glass of champagne.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: 10. Ish.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week Bud Light, Palm, Captain Lawrence Pale Ale, more Bud Light...

In the spirit of learning from my mistakes, I've dragged my keister out of bed even on the coldest of mornings this week to get my runs in. And good thing I'm getting used to the brisk weather, since I'm in Chicago for work through Sunday. Clothes I packed for running this week: all of them.

F*%k That Friday: Coffee in a Bag

Things have been going pretty well for me lately: running hasn't killed me, and I haven't wanted to kill it; I've mastered the delicate balance of respectable social life versus wine and Scandal with my cat on the couch in sweatpants of questionable cleanliness; I remain gainfully employed, appropriately housed, and nutritiously fed (assuming I'm absorbing loads of nutrients through booze and cheese); and my hair is looking awesome even though conditions of late have been ripe for static and hat head.  All that won't stop me from complaining, however.  It's time for another edition of F*%k That Friday!

Imagine, if you will, the scene:

Entrepreneurial New York deli owner sees, morning after morning, harried commuters with their hands full of briefcases and newspapers and whatever else was in the hands of people before iPads.  "These people need coffee, but their hands are full.  How can I solve this problem?  I KNOW!  I'll deliver scalding, overfull cups of coffee to the hands of people dressed in their business finest via PAPER BAGS!"

...

Entrepreneurial New York deli owner, F*%k That.  Your decision to put a cup of hot liquid into a bag made of a material noted for deteriorating in liquid, thereby setting the precedent for New York breakfast purveyors everywhere, has made my life and the world I live in a worse place.  Is this just a New York thing?  If so, and you're considering moving to New York, don't.  You'll be coming to a place where your $1650 apartment whose walls you can touch with your two arms extended will be filled with clothes covered in coffee stains, all of which have to be dry cleaned because OF COURSE you were wearing a silk shirt/white coat/suede loafers/everything non machine washable on your way to work in the pouring rain, juggling your bag and umbrella while responding to an urgent email from your CEO who wants to know why you screwed up that huge project and you thought maybe, just maybe, today would be the day the paper bag would somehow not result in spilled coffee everywhere.  Hypothetically speaking, of course.  That's not an exact description of my life, at all.

This was yesterday. It was even browner when it dried.

So, to coffee served in a paper bag, I offer a heartfelt F*%k That.  Happy Friday, kids.  Better ask for extra napkins.

How Important is an IT Band, Really?

Remember earlier this month when I regaled you all with tales about my youth, when I was growing at such a rapid rate that I had difficulty gauging where my various body parts were in relation to the objects around them?  And how this resulted in skinned knees and wet feet and concussions?  I guess old habits die hard.

(I tried numerous times to take an actual photo of my bruise, but couldn't really do it justice without taking my pants off, and this isn't that kind of blog.  The depiction above it quite accurate, however, except I don't usually wear short shorts in January, and also I don't know why MS Paint makes my clothes look like they're showing colorful x-rays of my body.)

Over the weekend, I was walking towards my apartment and not really paying attention to where I was going.  I was sober, for the record.  In any event, I veered too close to some scaffolding erected on my block (it's not newly erected either; I full well knew it was there) and one of the nuts holding the thing together impaled me just south of the hip bone, right in the IT band.  It hurt so badly at the time, I thought for a split second I might throw up.  That said, it also enabled me to use "erect," "nuts," and "bone" all in one paragraph, so perhaps not all is lost.

Luckily it hasn't had any negative implications on my running, except that I can't apply direct pressure, so foam rolling is out.  Not that I ever bother to do that anyway.  Now if only I can injure myself so as to make core work impossible, I'll be set.

Monday Wrap Up: My New Toy

Week three of Boston training is in the books.  And technically, it was 8 days long.  While I should have spent my Sunday running long, I instead spent it watching other people exercise at a squash tournament and then the Whiskeython, then eating pizza, then taking a nap, then doing one 1-minute plank, then watching 4 episodes of Scandal.  One 1-minute plank is almost exactly like running long...

Fortunately, today was a holiday for me, and in keeping with the grand tradition of using our nation's greatest leaders as excuses to delay exercise (when they're not being used by car dealerships as excuses to sell cars), I pushed my Sunday run to today, thereby extending week 3 by a day.  It's like time travel, except shittier because all you get out of it is additional sweaty laundry.

Keen-eyed readers will notice that's a new Garmin.  I've been using the 405 since 2010, but lately it's been taking longer and long to find satellites, and when it does, the routes it thinks I'm running have gotten jankier and jankier.  For example:

Despite what this map indicates, I try to run in straight lines, and never run back and forth in front of my apartment a couple times for good measure.

The 405 is a great watch that's treated me well, but it has the capacity to do infinitely more than I need it to do.  Having lost the guide book years ago, I can't even tell you all the things it does that I've never used before, but if any of them are more complex than "track time, distance, and pace," I assure you I've never used them.  

So sometime during the recent Polar Vortex, as I stood outside my building waiting what felt like eons in the frozen wasteland that is midtown in January for my satellites to load, I decided enough was enough.  I needed a new Garmin.

I did plenty of browsing on the Garmin website (using their nifty "compare" tool), but ultimately decided that the most basic Forerunner, the 10, would be good for me (also I ordered it from L.L. Bean because they have free shipping and I had store credit and also support Maine business, yo).  I was initially off put by the active battery life of only 5 hours (the battery life while in training mode, as opposed to when it's just being used as a neon eyesore of a watch).  But that's more than an hour and a half longer than I need it to last during a marathon (ahem, an hour and 41 minutes, here's hoping), and even with the 405, which boasts an 8-hour lifespan in training mode, I get a battery low warning shortly after 3 hours, so I haven't used it in any ultras anyway.  

I took it out of the box Friday night on my walk home from work and was horrified to discover that it took so long to locate satellites to set the time that it entered power save mode.  This would not be an adequate solution to my Garmin problem.  Luckily when I strapped it on this morning to get down to business, it found satellites in a few seconds, versus 2-plus minutes with my Garmin 405.

I didn't wear the two watches side by side on the run today, though in hindsight that would have been a good comparison.  I do have a general sense of where my mile markers are on this particular route, however, and the Garmin 10 was right on target for those.  It took me 3 miles to realize that, just like the 405, the 10 does indeed give you a little beep and display the time per mile at the end of every mile.  The tone is very faint compared to the 405, and even once I knew to be listening for it, I often missed it.  

There are several spots on this run that the 405 always got wonky, even when it was shiny and new.  The first is the southern most portion of the East River path, where the FDR Drive runs above you.  Often, the 405 would record an 11:00/mi followed by a 6:00/mi in this stretch, though I assure you I was running neither pace.  While I didn't check the Pace and Distance screen during this stretch, my pace at the end of each mile underneath this roadway was right in line with all the other miles.  Same goes for the path along the Hudson, north of the Sanitation Plant where you run under the West Side Highway.

The splits table, along with the GPS-produced route map and elevation chart, are all available in Garmin Connect, after syncing the watch via the enclosed charging cord to the computer.  I was pleasantly surprised to discover that all my activities are together in the same Garmin Connect account, regardless of which device I used.  (The DC Rainmaker review I linked to above indicates there is no elevation chart for the Forerunner 10 via Garmin Connect, but Garmin must have updated that feature since his review, since I assure you it's there.)

The 10 also captures personal records, based on your history.  Since today was my first run with it, and also because I am a badass, I set a lot of records.  My fastest mile was apparently a 7:26, though I'm somewhat confused by that stat, as there is no 7:26 mile listed in the table above.  I can only assume it happened in the middle sections of two consecutive miles.  Also captured was fastest 5k (24:46 - that's awkward...), fastest 10k (50:28), fastest half (1:46:40), and longest run (15.01 mi).  I don't care about any of these stats, since none of them are actually personal records for me, and can't imagine ever using this function, but I suspect it's targeted towards newbies (hence the run/walk option, which I also won't describe as I have never trained that way and don't plan to start now, but again, the DC Rainmaker review has additional details).  That said, I  have some concerns about establishing the idea that you should always be running to break records.  But whatever.

As I alluded to, I had my default display showing Total Time and Distance, which is what I'm most frequently interested in during my long runs.  My secondary screen had Pace with Distance, and until I realized I was in fact shown pace after every mile, had to manually push a button to check my pace a couple of times.  This isn't the most arduous thing that's ever happened, but it's mildly inconvenient, especially if you're holding a water bottle in your other hand, as I was.  Again, it wasn't an issue on this run as soon as I realized I could see my pace after every mile, but for something like speed work, where I want to know my pace over distances shorter than a mile and it actually matters what that pace is, I'll need to rethink my display options.

In all, I think this was a solid purchase, and at $129, it's not a big investment.  It's obviously geared towards new runners, but as I said, I don't think I really need all the features that come as a part of the 405 anyway..  (P.S. I paid for this myself, and wrote a review so that runner karma would reward me in the form of a 3:19:xx in Boston, not because anyone is making me or paying me).

If there's anything I neglected to address that you want to know about the Forerunner 10, hit me up and I'll try to find you an answer.  As for the wrap up...

Number of Miles Run Last Week (which was 8 days long, don't question my methods...): 36.  Beyond just the day off today, I knew I could finagle the schedule somewhat since the week ahead is a step back week.  I may lose a rest or cross training day, but with lower mileage, I'll be okay with that.

One highlight of this week was my first GMP run.  I did a lot of these on the treadmill last season because it's easy to lock in the pace and zone out, but this week I headed to the reservoir and was pleasantly surprised that I was perfectly capable of hammering the pace without a treadmill propelling me forward.  Also pleasant? The fact that I only had to do 2 GMP miles.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: Well I have one in my hot little hand as we speak.  I had another last night, and four on Saturday.  Friday I had one, to wash down some Excedrin Migraine (don't do that; your liver frowns upon it). Thursday I had one.  Wednesday I had two.  Tuesday I had two.  Monday is too long ago for me to remember, but according to Untappd, I didn't have any. How unusual!  That's 12, though I hope to have a few more tonight.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week:  Brooklyn Lager, Captain Lawrence IPA (that the beer carts in Grand Central have stepped up their craft game has made going home to Connecticut all the more enjoyable, I tell you), Olde Burnside Ten Penny Ale (a local Connecticut beer I had with pizza and parents), Anchor Brekle's Brown, which my mom picked out for me because she's adorable, Lagunitas Hairy Eyeball Ale, Sam Adams, Bud Light, Yuengling, and a forgotten IPA over dinner Saturday night Red Hook Long Hammer IPA, which I only know because Thomas has a better memory and/or drinks less than me.  

Rumor has it the cold and snow is returning this week, so I'm extra thankful for a step back week.  I'd be even more thankful if I won Powerball and could go someplace non-polar to train for a few weeks, but instead I'm going to Chicago later this month.  So there's that.

Monday Wrap Up: On Making Choices

Things continued apace in week 2.  I almost skipped an easy 4 miler on Saturday because... couch.  But then I realized I could prop my iPad up on the treadmill and continue my Scandal on Netflix binge, and so my training equilibrium was restored.  Then I almost skipped a 12 miler in the Park on Sunday because... delicious breakfast pastries.  But then I remembered I ate so much pizza the previous night that I was legitimately physically incapacitated (just topping off my carb reserves...), so I'd better burn some calories instead of skipping a run in favor of croissants, and my equilibrium again was restored.  

While there were a few instances last week where I had to pick running over something else that sounded more appealing, there was also one case where running was the easy choice.  On Tuesday it was so bitterly cold that my colleagues and I worked from home.  Brave the subzero temperatures to go to the gym and delay the start of my work day as long as possible?  Sign me up! 

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 33.  That 12 miler was pretty boring, actually.  It can't be a good sign if I'm already bored of Central Park.  But it wasn't physically challenging (surely because I had fueled so well in the form of pizza), and anytime I tackle the Harlem Hill more than once and don't end up in tears, I consider it a win.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: 8. I also drank about 2 gallons of red wine this week, as a survival mechanism. Winter, y'all!

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: Brooklyn Lager, Sixpoint Redd, Captain Lawrence Brown Bird, Great South Bay Massive IPA, Sam Adams, Kronenbourg 1664.

Week 3 features my first Goal Marathon Pace run, which I'm actually looking forward to.  It also features a trip to the DMV (not part of the training plan), so I hope to use my government office induced raged to really nail my paces.

On Spatial Awareness

When I was a small child...  

Actually, scratch that.  I was not ever a small child.  

When I was first a child, I was a very round child, which, if you ask me, is the best kind.  Fat babies are cute and everyone likes them.  

Once I was no longer a baby, however, I very quickly became a large child in other ways.  Namely, up-and-down ways.  I began growing like a weed, and my metabolism could not keep up.  For some time, I looked like a famine victim, which may have been alarming to bystanders, but by and large, was of little consequence to me personally.  However, the growing process did have some deleterious impacts on my existence.

For a time, I was growing so fast I had no concept of how much space I took up on any given day.  I wasn't suffering just from bumped knees (though I certainly did have those.  Already 5 feet tall in 5th grade - one of the few times in school you don't want to be above the 97th percentile - it was not possible for me to fit my legs underneath my school desk), but bumped everythings.  I once gave myself a concussion from running face-first into a tree branch, having sworn I could fit cleanly beneath it when I went to shag down a loose ball while playing catch.  Walsh family history is rife with tales of me stepping backwards into water hazards and koi ponds while playing mini golf on vacation, simply because I didn't realize how long my strides had gotten.

While the irony of suggesting I've grown out of this predicament is too easy, I will say I am no longer plagued daily by the length of my limbs.  With some modifications (a very low desk chair in my office, for example), I live a mostly normal life.  Except during SoulCycle.

Like most fitness classes, SoulCycle follows a semi-regular routine, and integrates any number of two dozen or so standard moves into each class.  One of these moves is a push up on the bike handlebars.  It looks like this:

But when I do it, it looks like this:

Don't be distracted by the orange hair; notice how much more space my arms take up.

Normally I can account for this by just leaning in front or or behind the people on bikes next to me so we don't smash elbows.  Given that most people in SoulCycle are women (average height: 5'4"), this works well.

This morning, however, I was flummoxed: I spun beside a man!  I first noticed his presence during just such a move, and after several instances of elbow-on-elbow crime, we managed to sort ourselves out, each doing shallower pushups than intended while the instructor offered generalized criticism to the room about those who don't make the most of our workouts.  I could practically hear this man asking me to personally refund his $34 because my gaping wingspan was preventing him from getting in an adequate workout.  But our problems didn't end there.

Later in the class, during the free weights portion, my over large left hand made contact with his right, smashing a 3 lb weight (so strong) into his knuckles.  I apologized, nearly shouting over the EDM blaring and the instructor telling us if we don't squeeze our butts, no one will (get it?).  Here I was, ruining someone's day with my gangly arms, all before 7am.  His response of "no worries" might as well have been "I wish your parents had used Rick Moranis' kid shrinking machine."

Finally, class wrapped up with the stretching segment.  Ever so carefully, I unclipped my left foot, making extra certain not to kick him with my size 10s in the process.  I leaned over my propped leg to stretch my hamstring, ensuring my primate arms weren't extended far enough to drip sweat into her personal space.  I pulled my left arm across my chest, securing it with my right, proud of myself for allowing at least for this man to have a peaceful cool down, when suddenly I felt something wet graze the side of my body, followed by "I'm SO sorry!"  My spinning companion's rangy, outstretched, sweaty meat hook touched my (equally sweaty) sideboob!  

Rather than creeped out, I was excited.  Could it be?!  Could it possibly be true that it was not my elongated limbs, but his own that interfered with our workouts all morning?  Am I not a freak?!

Eh, even if I am, and it was all my fault, I think I made it up to him with a free feel.

Monday Wrap Up: Week One

I'm probably as surprised as anyone that I successfully made it through week 1 of Boston Training.   I don't know why that is, exactly; while I haven't had what I'd consider a great race day performance since Fall 2011, I've had a couple of good training seasons in the interim -  Boston 2012 and Hamptons 2013, to name two.  Unfortunately, neither translated to good race day performances.  Here's hoping the third time's the charm.  At the very least, nothing seems glaringly wrong at this point, and even my first long run (a whopping 10 miles) felt good, despite taking place entirely indoors.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 32.  I was a touch conservative here, dropping one of the scheduled easy runs and replacing it with a couple hours of (strenuous, if you ask me) hiking.  Five days of running per week has typically been my sweet spot, and particularly after the Great Stress Fracture Debacle of Spring 2013, I am in no hurry to revisit the boot, despite how handsome Dr. Jordan Metzl is.

Good thing we didn't have champagne until we got to the top, because this hike was so strenuous
I could barely stay upright before the booze.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: Well this seems unfair - last week included both a holiday during which excessive alcohol consumption is customary, and was a week during which I went to work very few times.  I'd guess more than 10 and fewer than 20, and will exercise my Fifth Amendment right by not getting more specific than that.  

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: I should have written this blog post two weeks ago, because the Oregon beers I drank are much more interesting than the ones I had back in New York.*  The first week of 2014 featured Meadowlark IPA, Dunegrass Double IPA, Peeper Ale, Sam Adams, several too many 8 oz cans of Bud Light (8 oz cans are fun because they make you feel like a giant, but also they need replacing every third sip), one 25 oz can of Bud Light, one accidental Becks Non-Alcoholic...

As for week 2, it began in shorts and a t-shirt outdoors today.  Tomorrow, meanwhile, the high temperature won't reach 11 degrees.  Isn't Spring Marathon training neat?

*I can't resist.  Oregon/West Coast beers included Bridgeport Ebenezer Ale, Rogue Hazelnut Brown Nectar, Stone Arrogant Bastard, Laurelwood Workhorse IPA, Deschutes Mirror Pond Pale Ale, Deschutes Inversion IPA, Gigantic IPA, Portland's ZigZag River Lager, and Rogue Brutal IPA.  

Recap: We'll Run For Beer x 5

On Saturday, December 7, approximately 25 beer-swilling, fitness-loving, spandex-clad folk gathered in a somewhat timely manner at Columbus Circle for the fifth installment of everyone's favorite beer run, We'll Run For Beer.  After a thorough roast of me and my traditional welcoming remarks, I distributed maps and the crew set off for the first drinking establishment of the day, The Subway Inn.

 

The journey there was somewhat harrowing, as I didn't think ahead of time that perhaps traveling through Columbus Circle, Central Park South, and Fifth Avenue might be a bit congested during the holiday season.  Nevertheless, we eventually made it unscathed.  No word on the tourists we inadvertently tripped, crashed into, and sweat on...





My Dad looks happy, but he actually told me he was disappointed this place wasn't more of a dive.  Because every father hopes his impressionable youngest daughter goes to really seedy drinking establishments...

 

 

As always, We'll Run For Beer brought together friends I've made through running, friends I've made through drinking, and total strangers I hope to be friends with going forward.  These two clowns are from the drinking times.  More specifically, the underage drinking times...

 

 

After a quick pint, we made our way north, then east, then north again for the second stop, Session 73.  I ran this leg with my Dad, and enjoyed a quiet, sunny run through the Rockefeller University campus.

 

 

For those who don't know, Session 73 is a hot spot among the 21-24 year old crowd, famous (err, infamous) for late night dance parties.  In fact, We'll Run For Beer might be the first time in the history of human kind anyone has ever set foot in there during daylight hours.  These three in particular seemed keen on reliving the glory days.

 

 

Who knew they even had those brick walls in there?  In any case, Session was actually closing for a private party at 2pm,  so we made quick work of our pints and headed into the Park for the next leg.

 

 

Runners and non-runners alike gave me a lot of shit for the third leg, since it took us into the Park and up Cat Hill (as always, I provided a suggested route and mileage, and participants were welcome to take their own routes if so inclined), but this was actually my favorite part, and the leg that I felt best captured the essence of why I organize these in the first place.  I just love running, and beer, and my friends, and I want to combine all those things.  Getting to run through the Park with friends new and old and capping it off with a pint is a perfect Saturday for me, Cat Hill be damned.

 

Our third scheduled stop was Trinity Pub, because I had a sneaking suspicion that if I advertised a planned stop at Dorrian's, people would either be too mad or too embarrassed to attend.  Thanks to a remarkable twist of fate, Trinity Pub was closed (I swear I didn't plan that!) and lo and behold, stop 3 did indeed take us across the street to Club D.  We had many laughs reminiscing over embarrassing things we'd done there in our younger days, and I was glad my dad had gone home by this point.  Also, I was surprised to discover (or re-discover, as I must have known this at some point and just forgotten due to excessive alcohol consumption) that Dorrian's doesn't have Bud Light bottles.  What kind of reputable joint doesn't provide patrons with liquids that allow for simultaneous intoxication and hydration?  Unfortunately, Cate didn't take that up with Jimmy Dorrian himself when she ran into him on the way to the bathroom, though she did take a moment to pet his full length fur coat.

.

 

Finally, our motley crew made its way up to Harlem for the final stop at ABV, which was reported to be home to both delicious beers (that I can attest to) and excellent sandwiches (so claim Brad and Sara).  Alas, the sandwich jury is still out, because the kitchen was closed between lunch and dinner.  No matter!  The die hard made our way inside just as the first flakes began to fall outside and bellied up to the bar for stop number 4.

 

 

It would seem that 4 bars, 5 miles, and plenty of beers did not do wonders for my hair... 

 

In all, I think the fifth installment of We'll Run For Beer was a good one.   Four stops seemed like the right amount - people were pleasantly drunk, and the day wasn't so long that people were starving halfway through. Despite some route and scheduling snafus (admittedly my fault), we had a great day, and I'm so grateful to those of you who came out for it!  I hope you'll join us again next time. 

 

(Looking to establish a beer run in your city?  It's way easy and you totally should!  Email me at willrunforbeerblog at gmail dot com and I'd love to help you sort it out!)