My, my, what flattering tights you're wearing!

What a monstrous disaster. I sincerely hope the Rockies' plan of getting the first loss out of the way quick and easy works out. Because tonight's display of baseball... well... you've all seen it... I won't go into it here. Let's just say there was plenty of weeping and gnashing of teeth going on, and at many points, I had to stoop to insulting the physical appearance of the Red Sox players simply in order to fight off the overwhelming sense of despair and hopelessness that overtook me as my team went down in 13-1 flames. (I am sure, despite appearances, that Manny Ramirez doesn't really drown puppies in his spare time. And Big Papi doesn't look that much like Shrek, does he?)

*sigh*... Setting the punch bowl of sour grapes aside....

Last night's run went off without a hitch. SoxFan and I did a comfortable 3.5 miles. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately, for the purposes of this blog) there was nothing extraordinary to report. It was dark and cold, but the full moon was nice.

Tonight, however, was my first experience at the track. I have to admit, I was quite nervous about the idea of meeting up with people and running around in circles. Especially when we all got there and I saw that I would clearly be the one pulling up the rear again. Don't get me wrong, it's all fine and good to be pulling up the rear when you're running a long out-and-back run and no one can really tell that you're dead last. But when you're running in a circle...well, I just imagined that everyone would finish their lap and then stand around chitty-chatting while I dragged my slow butt in. (note: this is not how track workouts operate!)

So, we started off with a couple of hearty make-you-look-completely-ridiculous stride exercises, as if my running "tights" weren't already accomplishing that task.

*****And by the way, running "tights" are just another name for Spandex, friends. You can use whatever euphemism you like, but in the end, it's just good ol' Spandex, just like it was back in 82. And just like back then, I consider it a privilege, not a right, and therefore I choose to run in "tights" with shorts on over the top. Now who's ridiculous?*****

After the drills, we took off running fast/slow intervals. I thought I knew what I was getting into here. So, I took off! And it felt unbelievable to be running so fast! I was taking these holy-moly long strides moving gracefully and effortlessly, and I felt the breeze whipping past me at an alarming rate. I'd finally tapped into my inner Kenyan!

But after lasting a mere 200 meters at a lightning fast pace of 8:30ish (yes, you read that correctly, and no you're not in the wrong place) I CRASHED AND BURNED... My slow intervals became walking intervals, and my fast intervals returned to a more reasonable 11:30ish. Much better. We only did this three times (which ended up being about 2 miles), and while I was kindof tired at the end of each fast interval, I left the track feeling like I needed to go work out.

But, the game was on...so...you know...

It was worth the purple mylar eyelashes!

I suppose it's a good thing that I do a written weblog, rather than a video weblog, because I can hardly talk today after all the SCREAMING I did last night as the Rockies swept the Phillies in the NLDS! I was finally able to answer in the affirmative when SoxFan asked me "Is this anything like an Auburn game?" Yes, just add twice as many screaming fans, and you're there! It was, hands down, the most exciting MLB game I've ever been to, be it Rockies/Cardinals/Sox/Marlins/etc. And, for your viewing pleasure, here is a shot of my very favorite Rockie: Matty. *swoon*

There was a sentimental moment during the pre-game hysteria when Mike Coolbaugh's sons (5 and 4) threw out the ceremonial first pitch. Mike Coolbaugh was a former big-league player who had recently been hired as a coach for one of the Rockies farm teams. He was killed in July by a line drive foul ball down the first base line. Mike's wife is still pregnant with their third child. The Rockies players recently voted to give Mike's family a full-playoff share. Heart, people. It's difficult to come by, especially in professional sports.

OK. Back to running... sorry for the detour.

Yesterday's group run was good. It was chilly and very windy, yet there were 50 or so TNT team members out for the run. And it was an especially fantastic day because I finally won one of the little prizes that they always give out: the one for being present at all of the group training runs so far. Yay me!

The plan for yesterday was to run 2 hours, out and back. I figured this would be about 8 miles for me. So, in my customary way, I walked the first 7 minutes, then I began running. And, in my customary way, I was hating it for the first 1.25-1.5 miles. After a while though, I settled into my slow pace. On the way out, I figured out that I can't run with my latest audio book selection ("Giving", by Bill Clinton); I am sure it's a wonderful read, it is just a bit too dry for running purposes. I'm going with a thriller next. Oh! And I figured out that I can listen to music and run. I just have to focus on running, rather than on the music.

By the time I'd run 52 minutes (3.5 miles), I was spent. I knew I should keep going the extra 8 minutes, but I could see the shade on the trail disappearing, and I couldn't bear the thought of 8 more minutes of running staring into the sun. I was finished. So, I turned back and began walking so that I could re-fuel.

My fuel selection for yesterday were Orange Shot Bloks by Clif. They were OK. The consistency was similar to a gumdrop, and the taste was fine initially but they packed a pretty severe aftertaste. Also, I'm not convinced that they packed the same energy punch as the GU.

On the way back, I decided to repeat exactly what I'd done on the way out. So, I kept walking until I'd walked .37miles, then I stopped to stretch, and then I was off again. (Wow, that makes it sound fast!) I made it nearly 2 miles before I had to take a walk break (only 2 minutes of walking, though!). I walked one tenth, and then ran some more. After a while, another walk break... And then, I ran it the rest of the way in.

So, totals... I covered 7 miles. And I ran 6.07. Yay for PR's. No problems with my knee at all, at least until I got back and sat down for a while. All in all, I felt great!

Afterwards, TNT held a nutrition seminar for us. The nutritionist was very helpful, and she taught me something I didn't know: Pop is bad for you. OK, OK, I guess I already knew that. But, I didn't know exactly why. Is it because a can of pop has a whopping 10.2 teaspoons of sugar in it? No, your dentist loves that.

Pop (almost every brand, diet, regular, Coke, Pepsi, Dr.P., brown, green, otherwise) has phosphoric acid in it. This is part of what makes the bubbles, which we all know, makes the nectar of the gods stay fresh. Now, do you know what else has phosphoric acid?

Tilex. Scrubbing Bubbles. Things you use to de-scum your shower. And why is this so? It's because phosphoric acid clings to calcium. It sticks to calcium and drags it right off your bathroom tiles, and similarly, right out of your bones.

Well, maybe I'm the only idiot out there who didn't know about this, but.... I didn't know about this! So, considering my troubled joints and my recent decision to take a vitamin supplement to help increase joint strength/cartilage production (thanks SoxFan!), I think an equally important step is to eliminate things that will defeat the purpose of said supplement.

She also gave us a very handy list of things that we, as athletes (I could hardly contain my laughter imagining myself an athlete), should be eating every single day. It was good, sound advice, and I'll make some changes to my weekly shopping trip.

I decided to miss the Komen 5K Race for the Cure this year. I sent in my first of many Student Loan Repayment checks yesterday, and I'm still in the money shock. Also, I didn't get in until nearly midnight (go Rockies!). Also, I did 7 miles yesterday. I was tired. My legs were sore. Clearly, I have no lack of excuses for my slacker self.