It's that time of the week again. What time? The middle. For those of us on a 9/80 schedule it's almost like Thursday since we have Friday off, but that doesn't make it any better.Jacked My Neck
Last night I was making my way around the local high school track when I noticed a slight twinge in my neck. I made a mental note of it and moved on. A few laps later I noticed the twinge was becoming less and less slight, and ultimately it started to tighten up and form a knot. I was having a great run and didn't want to stop, but eventually the pain won out and I had to walk.
Today I'm piling on the Aleve, massaging the knots and drinking plenty of water. I can only hope it goes away quickly because, well, it sucks.
After my neck tightened up I tried to think of what I could have done to aggravate it. I settled on all the driving I had done over the weekend. The Lesbaru has a horrible seat, and I frequently have a sore back after long trips. That must have been it.
Well, maybe it was when I watched a movie with my neck craned around so I could lounge sideways on the couch. Oh, or maybe it was the foreign pillows I used at my parents' house. Hmm, maybe it was when I fell asleep in my own bed with the pillows stacked up too high. Geez, maybe it was when I really overdid the abs workout Monday night.
Yeah, it has to be one of those. I'm leaning towards the driving because it's not something I can change. I'd hate to think it was something I did to my self.
No Dibs were harmed in the entweakening of my neck.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Bunk Neck
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
The Return Trip
As promised, I'm back one more 'gain to holler at y'all 'bout my return trip this weekend. So here it goes...I was Eggsnecstatic
It took us a few days to pull it off, but we finally got out to breakfast on Sunday morning. I got the call moments after putting some Grands cinnamon rolls into the oven; I'd have to eat those quickly to be ready for breakfast.
If you haven't had Grands for breakfast, you really should. No, they're not good for you and yes, you will immediately get fat after eating them, but they're wicked good. My family has them on holidays and they're such a treat. Knowing that soon after the Turkey Trot I will be diving into a hot, tender cinnamon roll makes it just a little bit easier to get psyched up for 10 miles (because I'm a junkie and have to run it both directions) in the 34-degree rain.
Anyway, after my second round of Grands in a weekend, I got scooped up by Dom to go get some breakfast. We rolled just outside of the 'lo to The Original Pancake House where half of Williamsville had convened for Sunday brunch. Oops. Fortunately we had some rough riders with us who were able to mean mug and ice grill us to the front of the line in next to no time. Yeah, we got Wesside on them suburban bitches.
The payoff came when the waitress rolled up with our breakfasts. The ultimate goal of the weekend (and most weekends that involve Dom and Buffalo Dan) was to get eggsnextowe (eggs next to we). The first person form is eggsnextome (eggs next to me), second person is eggsnextothee and the plural as you've seen, is eggsnextowe. And you know there ain't no tellin' what the side effects could be. Next time I'm gon' have two om-e-lettes or three.
Speaking of the waitress, man was she dull. First of all, we had to pour our own water until she caught us, then she insisted on doing it for us lest she should be fired. Wanted your coffee refilled? You better be prepared to wait. Ordered the smoked ham with glazed eggs breakfast? She was blown away when you said you wanted your eggs "glazed", as if that idea never crossed her mind.
In the end, I was in eggsnecstacy. The eggs, ham and pancakes were mingling nicely with the cinnamon roll and I would soon be ready for my return trip.Hittin' the Highway
Shortly after 1:00, with the Bills sufficiently losing already, I packed up the Lesbaru Lesbacy with my bounty of goods and hit the road. I'll have to get into the bounty another time as it's more than I can cover here.
By 1:45 or so I was cruising carefree, eastward bound on the NY Thruway. I found the Bills game on 97 Rock and listened until I was out of range. The traffic was a little heavy, but it was a holiday weekend and I was sure it would thin out once I got away from the city.
At 3:45 (I know this because I wrote it down) traffic slowed from a comfortable 72 MPH to a less-than-comfortable 0 MPH. We then spent the better part of an hour in a clutch burning stop-and-go quagmire. At 3:50 we passed a dead deer and traffic sped up to 3rd gear range (20-ish MPH). "Wow, all that for just a deer" I thought to myself.
Nope, false alarm.
We continued the inchworm pace until 4:03 when we passed a young mother in a minivan pulled off to the side of the road. She must have had half a dozen small children in the car with her and from my perspective it looked like she was feverishly changing a diaper. Shit-tay. "Well, this must have been the problem. Here we go."
Wrong again.
At 4:12 we sped up to cruise control speed, only to slow to 26.2 MPH three minutes later. It was probably not exactly 26.2 MPH, but an old Nissan in the lane next to me had a 26.2 sticker on his bumper signifying his Marathon achievement. We were going roughly that speed, so I noted it in my notebook.
At 4:18 we passed a black BMZ 328i with obvious internal distress. The hood was opened, the owner was on his mobile telephone and traffic sped up a little. Nope, that's not the cause. By 4:23 we were back to a halt. It was here that I noted the bumper sticker on another neighboring car that read "Quagmire Accomplished" and had a picture of W on it. I thought it was funny that we were in a bit of a stalemate ourselves.
Ten minutes later we were moving again at a steady 3rd gear speed. I was hesitant to shift into 4th lest I should jinx us, but we seemed to be at least moving steadily.
At 4:51 we passed a 3-car pileup on the westbound side of the Thruway. Our side was in no way impeded by the wreck or ensuing police and emergency response frenzy. In fact, by the time we got there the cars had been pulled off the road and everyone seemed to be casually chatting on his/her mobile telephone. So the cause of my hour plus holdup was people's need to rubberneck. Damn I hate that.
I rolled into the Pitt around 7:45PM, over an hour later than anticipated. The Patriots game was on at 8:00 so I swung by the old Shamrock for a few tonics and wings and watched the Pat's ease one by Philly. Around midnight I was unloading the car, feeding the cats, brushing my teeth and calling it a night.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Monday, November 26, 2007
Tales from the Trail
Well, I got home last night from the long weekend in Buffalo. As usual, I stayed too long and was driving across NY State during peak across-NY-State-driving hours. Added to this was the accident I would crawl by later in the day. But for now, I want to add a few little stories from my trip out to the 'lo that I forgot to mention. Lot Two-Stepping
I pulled into a parking spot at a rest stop, and was walking across the lot to the building and noticed a humorous phenomenon. Whenever a car's backup lights would come on, nearby pedestrians would instinctively perform a little parking lot hustle or shuffle, depending on the person. In a busy lot you could see the same person or group of people (in unison) performing this little shuffle several times en route to the building, taking what appeared to be short intermissions to walk. I'm sure the people didn't know this was happening, it's all built into our genetic code. The next time while you're performing a shuffle of your own, keep your eyes on your fellow pedestrians.Thank You, Come Again
Another strange phenomenon that I noticed while entering and leaving the rest stop was the politeness with which everyone treated one another. I always hold doors for people, and thank those who do the same for me. In our "Me first" society that's not always the case.
However, this trip I noticed that everyone was holding doors for everyone else. It was almost like that movie Pay It Forward where you do something nice for someone and in return they're supposed to do something nice for others. There was also a continual exchange of Pleases and Thank Yous.
At the risk of sounding sexist, I generally find that women do not thank us men often enough. Yes, we're bound by our extra chromosome to hold doors for the fairer sex, but the least our chromosomally challenged counterparts can do is acknowledge the act. This weekend I found that everyone was holding doors, everyone was saying 'thank you' and everyone was saying 'you're welcome'. My mind was blown.
To you ladies out there who appreciate having the door held for you and take it one step further and thank the holder, I say "You're welcome, any time."Just Here to Freshen Your Air
You know those damn automatic air fresheners in public restrooms? The ones that release a doo-doo enflowering scent after every plop? Well, those things eventually run out and need to be replaced.
During a #1 visit to the men's room, I had assumed my position at the pisser and was dutifully facing the tiles direction in front of me. I heard a muttering voice and the telltale "PSST PSST PSST" of an air freshener. I couldn't stand it, so I slowly turned my head - taking care to keep my eyes above waist level - and saw the restroom attendant walking the length of the aisle of stalls spraying eau d' deuce-fleur over his head.
Having completed my task, I walked over to the sinks and was met with a tear-jerking, convulsion-inducing fog of poop covering air freshener. I noticed another gentleman rubbing his eyes and coughing, victimized by the same fog. I can still taste that stench.
The only thing I could think of was that the muttering restroom attendant was instructed to "Replace the men's room air fresheners", so he did just that. He manually performed the task of the air fresheners. I can only imagine what his hands must smell like.
Oh, here's the excerpt from my notebook detailing the incident:The guy who replaced the automatic air fresheners... Not that he put in new ones, but performed their roles w/a little too much enthusiasm, blinding restroom patrons and offending our olfactory and (taste) senses.
I intended to replace (taste) with the appropriate word for the sense of taste: gustatory.
Okay, I'm going to stop here for now. I have another story or two from my return trip, but I'll hit you up with that later. I don't want this getting too out of control or those of you in Readerland with short attention spans might change the channel.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Friday, November 23, 2007
Happy Belated Thanksgiving
This will be a short one since I just wrote the post I was supposed to write back on Wednesday. I planned to write about things for which I am thankful, but instead I'm just going to talk about the Turkey Trot.Another Record Year
Each year the Buffalo YMCA Turkey Trot sets another record or two. As the longest continually run road race in America (longer than the Boston Marathon), each year it beats the record it set the previous year. Also, it's growing popularity continually sets a growing record of entrants every year. The first year I ran it (2004), there were roughly 5,500 entrants. The following year was about the same. Then last year we came roaring in with over 8,200. This year, the total reached 8,720 registered runners and walkers. From the results, not all of those who started finished and from the weather I'm guessing not all who entered started.Race Report
It was 34 and rainy when I left my parents' house donning my new running jacket, a pair of grey shorts and my trademark red Nike baseball hat. I left my car at Delaware Park, ran the 1.25 miles to the starting line as a warm-up and found my place at the front of the mob. From my experience, nobody lines up by ability except the guys at the front. Since I've been training pretty hard for this race, I felt that was where I belonged so I pushed and shoved my way up to the front of the pack. Not the front-front, but only a few people deep. I was lined up between the 5:00 and 6:00 milers (not where I truly belonged). I would then spend the next two miles passing people who were even less qualified to start that far up.
By the time the race started the rain had all but let up. We had a strong tailwind and the streets were flooded in places. Unlike years past, the crowds that gathered on the sidelines were thinner and less enthusiastic. I still cheered for them and thanked the volunteers for coming out and helping. My fellow front runners were apparently too businessey to follow suit, and they looked at me funny when I screamed in the underpasses. What the hell is wrong with those people? You always scream in underpasses!
As I passed the spot where my parents were going to be I noticed that they were not there. My superior training had apparently propelled me there too quickly and they had not been able to make the 5 minute walk to the corner yet. That corner was close to the 3 mile mark, which is coincidentally close to the 3.1 mile mark, AKA the first 5k. My plan was to break 20 minutes in the first 5k, then do whatever I could for the final 3k. My stretch goal was 32:30 for the entire race, a 6:30/mile pace.
Upon downloading the results from my watch, I found that I was 26 seconds shy of my 5k goal and 28 seconds shy of my overall goal. Not too shabby methinks, since they were both tough goals. Also, I never saw the 2 mile flag, so I didn't know if I was on track until I hit the 3 mile mark, when was too late to break 20:00. Oh well, there will be other races. I can make all the excuses I want, but ultimately I can only blame myself for not being ready.But How'd You Do Overall?
Since you asked, I'll give you my overall results for the race. Recall that there were 8,720 registered entrants. Some people who registered probably didn't show, and some who showed probably didn't register. The newspaper claimed the field was nearly 9,000 people deep.
Anyway, I finished in 270th place in 32:58. That means that while 269 people finished ahead of me, I finished ahead of roughly 8,450 people! I also placed 14th out of 311 guys in my age group, putting me in the 95.5th percentile! What whaaaat!The Cooldown
After finishing the race (where I smoked some punk who thought he could pass me with half a mile to go) I hit up the Convention Center for a bottle of water and a banana, searched in vain for Dom who promised to be there to trip me at the finish line, and headed back along the race course to my car.
By the time the race finished, the temperature had dropped the few degrees necessary to turn the rain into snow and the wind had turned from bitter into biting. If you recall, there was a strong tailwind during the race which means there was a headwind going back. Sufficiently sweaty from the Convention Center, I suffered for a mile or so until I warmed back up. Along the way I took the opportunity to stop and cheer for the people still running. I got a few cheers back and a few of my favorite "Let's Go Buffalo!" cheers, the cheer commonly heard at local sporting events.Point of Reference
This is mostly for me when I'm re-reading these posts while compiling notes for my memoirs. My first running of the Turkey Trot back in 2004 took 51:12 at a pace of 10:18/mile. The gun time was over 56 minutes, but there was some walking to be done before we got to the starting line. This year I was almost back to my car in that same amount of time. I think if I don't break 6:00 miles next year I'll be disappointed. I've been training hard and I'm still improving in leaps and bounds, so I think that's a fair goal.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Westward Bound
Happy Tri-Centennial. This is our 300th Issue of The Rantings of an Old Coot.
Wednesday morning I awoke to my alarm, lounged in bed in the knowledge that all I had to do today was pack up for the weekend, get the cats ready, run a quick errand or two and go into autopilot for a few hours. At the end of all that I'd be in Buffalo casually relaxing for a few days, eating Thanksgiving dinner and running a Turkey Trot.The Check Engine Light
Let me set the stage for you. It's November 21st, 11:00 AM and I just stopped to top of the ole gas tank before driving for 6 hours. According to my odometer I've traveled a hair over 4 miles when, wouldn't you know it, the check engine light (CEL) comes on. I'll be damned. From what I understand the CEL is almost always en emission issue, so short of creating a little more pollution (maybe I'll get one less mile per gallon, which over 12 gallons is not a problem) and spending a few extra cents driving out to the 'lo it's not a big deal. BUT, my inspection is up in December (9 days away) and it'll fail if the CEL is on. Excellent! There will be no putting this damn task off.
A few miles down the road it dawns on me that when I topped off the gas tank, the gas cap just didn't feel quite right. I pulled over at my earliest convenience, took the cap off, put it back on real good and hoped for the best. The light would never go off for the entire drive, but those things can take a while. I was not overly worried.
At a rest stop I took a few moments to jot down the details of my trip so I would remember to pass them along to all y'all and I noticed that the last thing I wrote in my little notebook was P0031 - the fault code from the last time my CEL was on.In-Car Snacks
With little more than an orange Check Engine Light, the occasional tail light and the dirt on my glasses to look at, I passed the time by looking into other people's cars and judging them. DVDs playing? Bad parents. Radar detector? Scofflaw. Navigation system? Directionally challenged. Nevermind that I have a radar detector and navigation system, that's not important. What I found to be the most fun was seeing what people eat while driving.
I'm sure we're all familiar with the standard in-car snacks: coffee, huge slices of pizza, Cinnabon cinnamon rolls, and so on. I myself had pretzels, bananas, apples and a granola bar. Nothing funny about those things. Then there was the woman who came swerving out of a rest stop. I thought for sure she was trying to stir a coffee or eat soup, but she was not. Of all things to be eating A) while driving and B) on a cold November day, she had a big ass ice cream cone.
If you've ever eaten an ice cream cone, you're probably well aware of the mess it can make if you don't stay on top of it. Add the fact that she's probably got the heat blasting, and it was a recipe for disaster. Chuckling in amazement to myself, I then proceeded to drink from my 32 ounce wide-mouth Nalgene bottle which, under the most controlled circumstances, is a freaking mess. How I managed to keep from pouring it down the sides of my face I'll never know.Race Packet Pickup
Before ending my trip at the family homestead, I stopped by the Young Men's Christian Association (YMCA) to pick up my race packet for the morning's Turkey Trot. By this time it was pouring rain out, and I was quite drenched by the time I got into the building. I waltzed up to the table for last names G-L, announced myself and received my timing chip and bib number. She asked if I would like a small or extra large t-shirt, to which I replied 'No'. I would have actually preferred a medium, but I was SOL. I took a small, thinking if it didn't fit well I could at least wear it under something. Like the pile of Red Cross t-shirts I've received over the years, an XL would never be worn.
Passing by the racks of discounted running gear for sale by Runner's Roost, I nabbed a jacket I've been eyeing for years. It was 50% off which put it down to a reasonable splurge for yours truly. In the morning, it proved a welcome addition to my running wardrobe since it was the only sleeved windbreaker I had. Excellent!
When I got home I dug through my race bag to collect all of my goodies. Usually these bags are stuffed with granola bars, strange jelly bean style food supplements, and coupons. Apparently mine had already been pawed through, leaving me with only the latter - coupons for shit I don't need. Oh yeah, hair bands for my close-cropped hair. Excellent.
Over and Out,
Old Coot
