Long or bust

It's time. Time for a long run, after two weeks of lollygagging. 

It's an early start. Running eighteen or more miles takes time. It takes even more time when you're running slowly because of tough conditions. Running friends come and go, but they're all completely done and on their way home when Danny-Boy is only eleven miles into his eighteen. Seven more. Where, and how, to do them?

Although the City of Medina had made an attempt to plow its all-purpose trails, there was still too much snow and ice. The roads were somewhat better, but there were still some bad spots, and traffic had been building. Danny-Boy heads over to the Claggett Middle School track.

He doesn't hold much hope for this surface to be runnable; there's ice and snow everywhere else. Sure enough, the track is completely snow-covered. Danny-Boy gingerly starts a circuit. The snow is mostly crunchy, but thankfully not slippery. Danny-Boy deems it good for the remainder of the run. Round and round he goes.

He's not moving fast; the pace is slower than before. But at least it's steady, and improving, just a bit. Danny-Boy successfully completes the run. It wasn't easy. Nothing is, these days.

Nope

"Nope" was the first coherent thought of the day. A 5-6 mile group run had been planned for the Lexington Ridge Clubhouse. But from my vantage point, everything was covered with new, overnight snow. I'll just run at home, I think, I won't risk my life to drive down to Medina.

Nope. I'm running in the hood, and it's not going well. There's ice, slush, hard, packy snow, soft, fluffy snow, slippery, sloshy snow. And probably a bunch of others that I can't think of. All this, combined with the cold wind chill, is causing me to reevaluate my life choice. I manage to get five miles in, but the fastest is over fifteen minutes. Some running, eh? Hey, maybe I'll ditch all this and head over to the rec center for some nice, warm indoor running.

Nope. I'm running around and around on the sixteen-laps-per-mile fitness track. After two very boring miles, I simply can't take it anymore. I migrate to the treadmill.

Nope. I can only do one mile on the mill. It's nice to have a couple of TVs to look at, but it's much warmer here, and I don't like having other people around me. Back to the (relatively cool) track.

Yep. Two more miles of sixteen laps each later, and I'm truly done. Got my ten in today, but it took hours and hours and hours. There has to be a better way.

Hey, I know. Move to Florida.

Baby steps

Danny-Boy is taking baby steps as he loops around and around his neighborhood. It's an attempt (a poor one) to remain vertical for ten entire miles. The temperature is actually slightly above freezing for the first time in, oh, eight or ten months. But the cold, freezing rain is still nasty. And there are icy spots on some of the roads. Will he remain horizontal-free for the entire run?

It's the tenth day of this awful December, and treadmill-less Danny-Boy is having a very rough time. He does, however, manage to return home without entertaining the hood with a face-plant. May the rest of the winter be as fortunate.

Rumors of my treadmill's demise...

True to its Name (before and after)

Rumors of my treadmill's demise have been greatly accurate. After 23 years and 9,963 miles (not including Debbie's walking), the old True 550 finally bit the dust. Winter, it seems, is tough on all of us, this December in particular. I spent four days in a row on it, and that was the last straw. The motor began smoking, and I wasn't able to fix it. With a little help (it weighed in at over 300 pounds), it was taken out of the basement, and it's now in that True graveyard in the sky.

Don't worry. Another mill has been purchased and is on the way. More on that later.

Today's "long" 15-miler

We are all well aware that 18 miles or more is a long run, so you don't need to remind us, Danny-Boy. 

But there are exceptions. Right? RIGHT???

Nope. 18 is 18. Doesn't matter how tough the run is; you either achieve the mileage or you don't. You ought to know that, Danny-Boy.

But there was ice, snow, cold, and fast friends who were also having difficulties. Besides, 15 is close enough to 18, isn't it?

Sorry, but no. It don't make no nevermind, DB.

Okay, I guess I get it. This means that today's run was a failure. I guess I'll just go and cry.

Ice-Nine Redux

The subject of Ice-Nine has graced this blog in the past. In case you forgot, here is my description from a 2018 post:

Ice-nine is a fictional material that appears in Kurt Vonnegut's novel Cat's Cradle. In the story, it is invented by Dr. Felix Hoenikker and developed by the Manhattan Project in order for foot soldiers to no longer have to deal with mud. The project is abandoned when it becomes clear that any quantity of it would have the power to destroy all life on Earth, since the entire planet would become frozen regardless of temperature. 

A global catastrophe involving freezing the world's oceans with ice-nine is what we seem to have this morning. It's cold out, and it's slick. The roads hadn't been so bad driving down to Medina, but now that I'm meeting with my friends, things aren't so hunky-dory. Even the Lexington Ridge Clubhouse parking area is treacherous. As we head out on the road, it gets worse. We're all shuffling slowly, except for 4WD Otis. He's happy as heck. The rest of us, not so much. With only a mile to go, two of my friends make full-body contact with the road. Ouch. Otis wonders what the problem is. Somehow, we all make it back. I'm hoping we're all okay.

The best news about today's run is that it's over and that there were apparently no major injuries. AND that it wasn't me who fell... For a change.

Lube: it's not just for breakfast anymore

What's that smell? Oh, nothing. It's just something metallic burning inside the treadmill. Good thing I am nine miles into my ten-mile run. My old True machine might possibly just make it through one more workout. Or not.

It's my fourth mill day in a row. That's because the weather's been frightful. And winter is just beginning. I usually go stir-crazy after milling around so much. I'm about there now. 

Once the odor becomes strong enough, I begin to worry. Is this the end of days (for the beast)? Please, treadmill gods, help this 24-year-old baby get through one more year. I stop and add some lube. Not for me, for the mill. I do this by spreading pelletized wax under the hot (too hot) belt. Then I walk-jog another mile.

Now the smell is less metallic and more like burning wax. An improvement? Who knows. Snow is in the forecast for tomorrow, so I may be milling at least one more time. Then, we will see.

Buckeye Woods Fun Run

The annual Buckeye Woods 50K is no more. It was fun while it lasted. Rather than let the tradition die completely, a few of us (Turkey Tom and The Usual Suspects) did a run run on the old course. And fun it was. Really!

Julie Boggs, Michelle Wolff, Shannon Barnes, Theresa Wright, and some guy