eat, drink, and run

I’ve been keeping a list of things that have become noticeably more difficult for me – and specifically, the runner in me – since we hit the other side 30 a couple of years ago.

Warm-ups: need to be longer.

Recovery from a hard effort: seems to take forever.

Hills: have become steeper.

I used to be kind of okay at hills – at least on a comparative basis. It was the one place on a race course where I had a shot at chasing down my more willowy counterparts. Something about a low center of gravity, I guess.

Well, my center of gravity hasn’t changed, so I’m going to go with: the hills have become steeper. That’s clearly the only way to explain the pain and suffering of this week’s speed workout.

Eight times up a stretch of neighborhood blocks, amounting to a quarter mile and about 80 feet of elevation gain. My speedwork group from last fall is back in action (yay!), so I had a nice pack to work with. (For the first six, anyway. It’s fun being the only person working on full marathon this spring…)

Our coach told us to shoot for 15 seconds slower than we’d normally run 400 repeats on a track. If I were going to do 8X400 on a track, I’d like to think I’d be down in the low 80s, so I plugged 95 seconds in to my head for this hill workout.

But my splits were: 100, 100, 99, 99, 98, 97, 102, 99. (Obviously, I lost a little steam when I had to do the last couple on my own…)

Apparently I was optimistic. Still, I guess there’s nothing wrong with that workout. It just felt kinda crappy. Meh.

Anyway. On to the next one. I’m hoping to hit 60 miles this week and as I am sitting here sipping some Friday night wine, I’m at 34. I have some work to do this weekend.

Which means I should probably put down the wine glass. 

This South African outfit’s Rose has long been a favorite, but I’d never tried the simply-named Red 2010 from Goats Do Roam before. It’s mostly Syrah (72%) and Cinsault (13%) with a little Grenache and some other stuff mixed in. Very bright and berry-forward, it was sweeter and lighter-bodied than I expected it to be, and very smooth. A respectable choice if you’re looking for something on the grocery store shelf that will be widely enjoyed, with food or without. 14% ABV.

Bottom Line: I received this from a friend, but I’d buy it again! Retails for around $10.

Time for me to chug some water so I don’t wake up feeling like I slept with a cotton ball in my mouth. And give my teeth a good cleansing. Don’t want to show up to morning running group with a headache and purple lips.

Add that to the list of thirtysomething woes….

Red wine: kicks my ass if I’m not careful.

To hell with getting old.

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Posted in Thirtysomething Angst, Wine Reviews, Workout Recaps

Earlier today, via a running forum I sometimes hang around, I came across a post on the blog of some random Crossfit place in Virginia. Succinctly entitled Why Jogging Is Terrible, the author – a chiropractor by the name of Corey Duvall – argues that there is “NO benefit” to running “consecutive distances of 2 or miles at a pace slower than 8 minutes/mile.”

When I saw the link, of course, I rolled my eyes.  I’ve seen my share of ranty screeds about running written by Crossfit folk. They’re usually poorly composed, unnecessarily inflammatory, and designed to make the reader feel like every other activity in the universe is pointless – except for Crossfit! Join our box for only $200/month!

Marketing at its finest.

But I was bored so I clicked over and read through the post a couple of times. And you know what? It wasn’t all bullshit. If you could pick through the obviously biased writing and ridiculous superlatives, Dr. Duvall actually made a few points that I think most runners (and people interested in fitness generally) would be wise to consider.

[Necessary disclaimer here: I'm not a coach, trainer, or medical professional of any kind. I'm just a chick who's been running for a long time. Also, I've never done Crossfit and have no plans to try it, but I have nothing against it. And I'm going to talk about pace here, and we all know that it's hard to talk about pace without being an asshat, so...forgive me for being an asshat.]

Point #1: From an overall fitness standpoint, most runners would probably benefit from running less – and running faster.

Writes Duvall:

“Let me clarify Jogging.  This is the act of repeatedly running consecutive distances of 2 or more miles at a pace slower than 8 minutes/mile.  If you aren’t running that fast you should speed up and shorten your distance.”

Now, I’m not sure what’s so magical about the 8-minute-mile thing. Nothing, I expect. Perhaps that is the author’s personal threshold for discomfort, or the point at which, in his anecdotal observations, the average person starts to struggle to maintain pace.

But whatever the number is, if you can run 2+ miles and you’re not at least occasionally running in the discomfort zone, you’re shortchanging yourself, fitness-wise.

(This is why I always include short and fast intervals, down to 400 meters, in my training – even when I’m training for a marathon. As my former CPTC coach used to say: fall marathon PRs are built on summer 5Ks. Truth.)

In my own experience, as an active member of many teams, clubs, and training groups over the years, I’ve watched runner friends train for, and run, marathon after marathon in the 5-6 hour range. There’s nothing wrong with that, but I’m convinced they’d be better overall athletes if they focused on improving their 5K and 10K times.

Of course, everyone has their own reasons for running; some people just like running marathons, and that’s fine! But from a strictly physical fitness standpoint, I think that there’s a grain of truth in Duvall’s statement, even if it’s snippy and arbitrarily judgmental.

Point #2: Couch to marathon is a bad plan.

Writes Duvall:

“I have treated MANY people for issues that are the result of nothing more than bodily neglect followed by abuse.  They ignore their movement systems, create horrid imbalances by sitting around, then abuse these systems by putting it through an incredible load for little to no value; they wind up with shin splints, Achilles tendinosis, “runners knee”, IT band pain, or back problems.”

My initial reaction to this was: NO SHIT, SHERLOCK. You’re a sports doctor/chiropractor guy; of course you see injured runners. The healthy ones don’t need your services.

But then I read the paragraph again, and it actually kind of speaks to something that’s been a concern of mine in the running community for several years, especially as the popularity of 13.1 and 26.2 has skyrocketed: namely, the bucket list would-be marathoner who gets off the couch and decides to become a distance runner and – surprise! – gets injured.

Again: everyone has their goals and their reasons. But distance running is no joke. It requires a great deal of work to properly build up to, and a great deal of training and commitment to execute safely. And even then, experienced runners who do everything right get injured all the time.

I wouldn’t say there’s “little to no value” in distance running. But I would say that it’s generally overvalued.

Point #3: Form matters.

Writes Duvall:

“The problem with Jogging is that people often speed up their walk instead of slowing down their sprint to move greater distances.”

Okay, so I was pretty much a cross-country nerd in high school, and the highlight of my summers was attending cross-country camp. Where we did totally nerdy things like make up skits about running and have granola-bar-eating contests and rail against the injustice that was My So Called Life‘s cancellation.

But we also worked closely with accomplished coaches and trainers, and I can clearly recall that many of them repeated some variation of the above quote, mantra-like, when trying to get us to pay attention to our form.

Without hesitation, I credit these early lessons for the fact that, fifteen years later, I can coax my stumpy legs in to turning over at a decent pace. (Yep, that’s under eight minutes per mile, Dr. Duvall…for a marathon!)

My form is definitely not perfect, and occasionally it’s pretty terrible: the cross-body swinging arms and slumped shoulders are, of course, captured for posterity in those late-stage race photos. But it’s something that I think about regularly, and especially when I’m running hard or doing a speed workout.

Here’s a fact that I don’t think anyone will dispute: When you’re sprinting, you have to be as efficient as possible.

I don’t agree at all with a subsequent statement Duvall makes, claiming that there is no difference between the form of elite sprinters and elite distance runners. (Uh, ask Meb if he’d like to run a marathon in sprint spikes.) But I do believe that the average hobbyjogger would probably benefit from focusing more on form and thinking about posture, turnover, economy, etc in the course of their training.

Point #4: Train to your goal.

Concluding his piece, Duvall writes:

“Jogging is terrible because it does not help you reach your goal any faster than walking, it helps you reach it FAR SLOWER than occasional sprint intervals, and it ups your injury rate to keep you from your goal.”

Right. So what is my goal supposed to be, again?

This is never addressed in the post. But let’s assume that Duvall is assuming that “your goal” is general overall fitness, functional strength, SEXAY toned muscles, reduced weight/body fat, etc.

If those are your goals, then I agree: distance running is a shitty choice.

Distance running is good at training your body for…running long distances. For the average person doing a moderate amount of overall mileage, it’s not the most efficient way to lose weight, get tight abs, or look good in a bikini.

Even putting aside the diet/nutrition issues that come with doing two- and three-hour runs (OMG I WANT PANCAKES AND CHEESEBURGERS AND BEER!), it’s hard to get around the fact that distance training teaches your body to burn energy (i.e. fat) as efficiently as possible. This means it burns as little as it possibly can over the course of your workout. And this is absolutely what you need it to do, if you’re running a marathon.

But if you just want to look good in your animal-print pants? There are better ways to accomplish that.

Which brings me to…

Point #5: You have to do what you like, and like what you do.

The glaring omission in Duvall’s post is the simple fact that some people actually enjoy running.

Running is incredibly simple to do: you just walk out your door and do it. It can be social and fun and is a great way to make friends and meet new people. It can be easy or hard; it can be slow or fast. Many of my friends who do their long runs on Sunday mornings quite literally refer to their workouts as their own personal way of going to church. To many runners, this hobby is so much more than proper mechanics or energy burn rates or tight butt cheeks.

And I don’t think I need to point out that no one is going to charge you hundreds of dollars a month to join their “box” in order to be a runner.

Point #6: Here’s a beer if you made it through this entire post.

Or…um, this is awkward…do Crossfitters drink beer? That sounds so not Paleo.

Just another reason I’ll always be a runner.

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Posted in General Running Chatter

Hello, my name is Shelby, and I have a balsamic vinegar problem.

I think I was in college when I first ate at a fancypants-type restaurant where they pour a little plate of olive oil and balsamic vinegar for you to eat with your bread. I remember thinking it was cool that vinegar formed a perfect little circle, trapped there in the oil. Then I dabbed the edge of my bread in it and never looked back.

On a recent business trip to Europe, my husband picked up a little gift for me. The man clearly knows the way to my heart.

I know, the cheapo grocery store stuff is “imported from Italy.” But this is actually from Italy. And that makes it better, right?

No, actually, what makes it better is that it’s thicker and sweeter than the domestically available vinegar products that normally grace my baby lettuces. It’s almost like a balsamic reduction in a jar. I’m not exaggerating when I say I could eat this stuff with a spoon.

But then I wouldn’t have any left over for my pasta.

(Whole wheat penne with red peppers, chicken sausage, goat cheese, and OMG balsamic deliciousness.)

I kind of can’t believe I just wrote a whole post about balsamic vinegar. But hey, it’s Tuesday and there’s not much going on around here.

In the spirit of randomness, I’ll leave you with the ad that has been popping up constantly on my Words With Friends lately:

I’m not sure what I did to lead my phone to believe that I’m in to adolescent eskimo boys….

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Posted in General Food Chatter

I spent quite a bit of time in my car this past weekend. On Interstate 85.

It’s a six hour drive from Raleigh to Atlanta. An awkward distance. Is it worth it to fly? Or just suck it up and drive?

Fortunately, it wasn’t much of a debate this time around. I am a giant slacker and procrastinated booking a plane ticket, so road trip it was. Plus, it was a good opportunity to load up the rest of my husband’s clothing and deliver it to him. I now have an entire closet all to myself….

Anyway. I motored it down to Atlanta Friday afternoon, was joyfully reunited with my betrothed on Friday evening, ate some good food, drank some good wine, ran some miles, and looked at some housing options. It was a pretty fantastic weekend.

And the drive wasn’t even that bad. I like road trips and I don’t usually get bored. Long drives are kind of like long runs for me. Sometimes, I make up little stories about the people/things I observe around me. Sometimes, I ponder Big Life Questions and such. But most of the time, I just host a running dialogue. With myself.

I blame this on the fact that I’m an only child.

There are a lot of tire pieces on the shoulder of the freeway. Is it really that common for tires to just spontaneously explode?  Is that why big trucks have like a thousand tires?

Is my right tire going flat? It looked low this morning. Next gas stop…

OMG, I don’t want to spend my night stranded on the side of the road in South Carolina waiting for a tow truck. Better put some air in it. I need new tires.

Why is gas so cheap in South Carolina? 

Costco probably has pretty good prices on tires. And I think they install them for you, too. Good thing, ’cause I’d have no idea…

Bug guts or bird shit on my windshield? I can’t tell. Whatever it is, they should make glue out of it. Ugh.

Who are these people who bring carrots and apples on road trips? You can pry my curly fries from my cold dead hands.

I’m so glad the South doesn’t have those nasty travel plazas that they have on all the tollways up North, where there are only like two food places to choose from. Those travel plazas must be solely responsible for keeping Sbarro in business.

Costco pizza is better than Sbarro pizza. Any pizza is better than Sbarro pizza.

The Superbowl is on right now and I’m beer-free. Wow. 

I miss living on the West Coast on Superbowl Sunday. I like football better when it’s an afternoon thing. 

How many miles did I run this week? Not enough. Why did I bail on my long run on Friday? I suck.

How many miles until I’m home? Too many. Do I have time to get in a quick run tonight? Probably not.

Maybe I should fly next time.

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Posted in Travel, Weekly Running Recap

Last night, I enjoyed one of my favorite not-too-expensive, mostly-healthy-yet-totally-delicious take out meals: the grocery store sushi box.

The box had this one roll that was topped with chunks of avocado and drizzled with that delicious brown eel sauce. On the way home from the store, though, things got jostled around and everything ended up jumbled together and coated in sauce. Fine by me. I love that sauce.

After I polished off all of the rolls and nigiri pieces, I went hunting through the carnage with my chopsticks for stray chunks of sauce-coated avocado.

I thought I was done when I stumbled upon one large, last scrumptious piece.

I should have known it was too good to be true.

On the plus side, my sinuses were very clear for the rest of the evening.

Backing up a few hours…I said I was going to do mile repeats yesterday. So mile repeats I did:

On the track: 4 X 1 mile at something like 10K pace, with 400M recovery. (Okay, 400M-plus recovery. I am really bad about enforcing recovery when I’m working out alone. I dawdled around a little between intervals and was actually on about a ten-minute cycle for these.)

This workout wasn’t easy, and I almost called it quits after three. In fact, I totally owe that fourth mile to the gentlemen who were doing their track repeats at the same time as me, who gently goaded me into finishing my planned workout.

Of course, I’m glad I did. I always am.

And as much as that last one burned, it was nothing compared to ingesting a tablespoon of wasabi.

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Posted in General Food Chatter, MSPAINT FTW, Workout Recaps

Last night, I got home work and entered my run from earlier that day into my log. The page reloaded, updating to add the miles to January’s total, and it came up with this:

I groaned. So close. I was briefly tempted to head down to the treadmill and bang out 3.1 miles to make it an even 200.

But then I was even more tempted by the beer I’d bought on my way home. Because really…it’s just a number. It’s not like 200 monthly miles is any sort of real milestone for me. I was 200+ all through the fall last year. It just sucks to be so close.

In spite of the missing 5K, though, January was a decent month. I’m feeling good and looking forward to cranking it up a bit more in February, starting with the mile repeats I’m going to do this morning just as soon as my bagel digests.

(As a side note: so far, I’m really liking RunningAHEAD! Thanks to everyone who recommended it. Look at this pretty chart:

It color codes my workouts for me! I would never have the energy to make something like this on my own, but it’s kind of fun to have.)

Anyway. About that beer…

My fridge is packed with stouts, porters, and barleywine-style bottles right now, but all I wanted last night was something fresh and hoppy, served ice cold. So I picked up a six-pack of limited-release Saranac White IPA.

As suspected, this beer is a IPA-wheat hybrid, brewed with Citra hops and wheat malt. It poured a little cloudy with a big fluffy head.  Lots of orange and spices, with some mellow hops in the background. More wheat beer than IPA, really – but it hit the spot nonetheless. 6% ABV.

Bottom line: If you’re looking for something a little summery in the dead of winter, this is your beer. (Purchased at Peace Street Market, $9/six)

About those mile repeats. I must get going before the coffee pot lures me in for another refill. Happy Wednesday!

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Posted in Beer Reviews, Monthly Running Stats

Tagged IPA, RunningAHEAD, Saranac White IPA, Wheat Beers

Let’s start with a little background. You all remember your first crush, right?

Mine was Fred Savage, circa 1988. Every week, I stalked the TV listings for new episodes of The Wonder Years. I became obsessed with the movie Little Monsters and found a new appreciation for The Princess Bride. I daydreamed and schemed, concocting fantasies in which the object of my affection would move to Washington state, enroll at my school, and profess his love for me in front of my third grade locker.

A pipe dream, obviously.

Twenty-three years later, armed with a  DVR, I can relive those formative years every single night.

I’ve known for a while that one of our odd little cable stations airs vintage sitcoms, often at weird hours of the day. (They also show Family Ties, which I also enjoyed…however, Alex P. Keaton was no Kevin Arnold. And by the time Leo DiCap came on there, I was over it.)

For some reason, it only recently occurred to me to unleash the DVR on this station, a veritable goldmine of quality eighties programming. The machine went to work, stockpiling episodes in its memory bank. And now, instead of spending my Monday night with that Bachelor crap (or whatever you kids are watching these days), I get to have my own little mini-marathon of this:

Eight-year-old me is extremely jealous.

Childhood crushes aside, though, The Wonder Years was fantastic television. It’s funny how elements of the show that I never noticed or paid attention to when I was a kid – like the relationship between Kevin’s parents, Norma and Jack – are now interesting and relatable.

And Winnie Cooper? Well, I pretty much wanted to be her.

It’s humiliating to admit this, but I insisted on wearing my brown hair long and straight, with bangs, because I seriously thought that if anything happened to Danica McKellar, maybe they would call me in as an understudy.

(Uh, yeah…not quite.)

When I was little, she could do no wrong. But watching now, I’m realizing: girlfriend could be a real bitch sometimes. And she was kind of (understandably, I guess, given her family drama) messed up in the head.

I’m still working my way through the episodes on my DVR, but I already know that they don’t wind up together in the end. I remember feeling outrage at the series finale when I watched it the first time around. I’m guessing I’ll probably feel a little differently today.

Anyway. That’s how I’ve been spending my free time lately.

How about a beer?

Peak Organic’s Maple Collaboration is an American Red/Amber Ale made with locally-sourced Maine oats and Vermont maple syrup.

I wasn’t sure what to expect from this one. Would it be a pancake in a bottle? (And would that be a good thing?)

As it turns out, the maple flavor is understated, presenting itself briefly and pleasantly on the finish of each sip. And there’s not much bitterness here, for a red – perhaps another byproduct of the syrup. The oatmeal goes completely unnoticed. Some BA reviewers griped about noticing the alcohol, but I really didn’t. Overall, it’s an amiable beer with a little hint of something sweet. 6.7% ABV.

Bottom line: Nothing earth-shattering, but enjoyable. (Purchased at Tasty Beverage, $6.50/big bottle)

Ok, back to my DVR stash….

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Posted in Beer Reviews, Thirtysomething Angst

Tagged Maple Collaboration, Peak Organic Brewing Company, The Wonder Years

I’m at that point in the moving process (ugh) where it’s dawned on me that my freezer contains a whole lot of food.  Food that will, if unconsumed, land with an unceremonious thunk in the bottom of a bag on moving day and be frantically ferried to the trash chute.

Of course, I don’t like wasting food. So I’m making it my mission to piece together as many meals as possible from this collection of random frozen crap.

Tonight, I took a turkey burger patty and made some teensy meatballs in my mini muffin pan. Surprisingly, they were delicious, and something I’d make again, even if I weren’t in freezer-clearing mode.

Basically, I just mashed together the thawed turkey patty, an egg, a small squirt of ketchup, a handful of shredded parm and about half a cup of panko, seasoned with garlic powder, dried oregano, dried basil, salt, and pepper. I lined a few cups of my mini muffin pan with foil and brushed them with canola oil, then baked at 375* for 18 minutes, until the tops formed a light golden crust. They were perfect.

Atop some whole wheat penne with (jarred Costco) marinara sauce, it was a satisfying meal. I was a little worried that a whole egg would be too much for just one serving of meatballs, but it gave them this extra fluffy texture that was actually very good.

Now if only I can some up with something this easy and tasty to do with the rest of the freezer. Anyone want to come over for waffles and green beans with brisket and lobster stock?

(Don’t answer that, please.)

This week’s running mileage came out right about where I hoped it would:

That “not-long” long run this morning was a little bit of a struggle. For some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to tackle Umstead’s Turkey Creek bridle trail on my “easy” day. Turkey Creek is chock full of hills from hell; I have never had a good run on Turkey Creek. Yet somehow, I forget and think it won’t be that bad. Wrong…it is that bad. I slowed to a near walk on a few climbs and overall felt exhausted and frustrated. Oh well.

Tomorrow’s an easy day…Tuesday, too…nothing tough on tap until speedwork on Wednesday. I hope a couple of recovery days will revive my tired legs.

Hope everyone had a great weekend!

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Posted in Recipes, Weekly Running Recap

When I’m marathon training, I like to take a week “off” from long runs every 3 weeks or so. That week is this week. So I “only” plan to do a 13-14 miler this weekend.

(Crazy how marathon training changes your frame of reference about these things, eh?  A two-hour run is considered time off.)

Because I have an lower-mileage weekend on tap, I wanted to get two speed sessions in this week. So on a couple of days recovery from Tuesday’s awesome tempo, I headed to the track this morning.

(And by “morning,” I mean 11:30 AM. Technically, that is morning.)

I’ll be honest: as I was warming up to the track, which is 2.5 miles from my apartment, I really was not feeling it. As I neared campus, I began to entertain a little fantasy that I’d arrive there and find the university track team working out and thus be forced to bail. But alas: aside from some buff sprinter guys doing drills in the outer lanes on the backstretch, the track was wide open. No excuses.

The workout on tap was this CPTC workout that I stole from Megan. I miss CPTC workouts something fierce. That shit will make you faster for sure.

The plan: 4 X 800 @ 5K pace, 4 X 400 @ 3K pace. Because I lack reading comprehension, I did 200M recovery throughout, but the workout as prescribed actually calls for 400M recovery between the 800s. I’m calling it even, though…I tend to stop my watch and dawdle a bit between repeats when I’m running workouts alone. (Bad habit.)

I know I often write about how much I looooove track workouts. And I do. But this workout was not easy. Not for me, not today. I thought about quitting between each and every one of those 800 repeats. Every time I punched the start button on my watch and took off, it was with a sense of dread. During the last 400, I felt like I was running through cement. This workout hurt.

You know what, though? I’m so glad I pushed through and finished and and kept the pace legit.

Workouts where you cruise along and feel great are wonderful, but for me, it’s the tough ones that build confidence. Eight times tod