Update

I had to momentarily pause my awesome running regiment after Mandy delivered the twins yesterday.  I will pick it up later this week

Awesome!

Today was AWESOME!  I loved it!  Running is so much fun! You should try it!  Nah... just kidding. Same old death trod today.

On the positive side, I did shave an additional 5 minutes off the run again.  I am down to a 13 minute mile average. The run was also an additional 20% less sucky from last time.  I have several thing to merit this to.

1. Podrunner  a free music mix podcast for running.

2. My body has figured out that the longer it can endure running, the sooner we get home and can stop running.

4.  A new running technique I am trying.  You see, I have giant, Wilt Chamberlain legs.  If you were to look at me, I would look like a baby perched on top of some stilts. I have a 34 inseam and size 13 feet.  I am 2 or 3 inches taller than my wife, but when we sit down, she is 3 or 4 inches taller than me.  I went and tried on backpacks at an outdoor equipment store.  The clerk tossed a women's pack on me and the shoulder straps arched 2 inches above my shoulders.  The clerk shrieked "Wow! you do have a short torso!"   In theory, if I let my gait stretch out into long strides, I should be able to cover some serious grounds.  The problem, I have found is that my muscles are not conditioned to that sort of movement.  A few hundred feet and my legs are screaming for divine intervention to stop this inhumane torture... well, more than they usually are.

I started my run an hour later, so I encountered more traffic.  I found it interesting to watch the faces of the people as they drove by.  they all seemed to be merrily motoring along to work, listening to their favorite zany insane morning DJs who were playing the fart song of the day when suddenly they spotted me.  Their cheery smiles dropped to a look of horror as they looked into my eyes.  They all seemed alarmed.  Some of them checked over their shoulder and looked to be calling 911.  I feel awful running, but I must look like I am ready to keel over with a big ol' fat, Cheney heart attack or something  While a cardiac arrest would certainly afford me some solace from my torture, it hasn't happened to me yet.

Well, I will see you tomorrow.  I gotta starting taping my nipples.  I think I can feel my heart beat in them right now. I don't think that is good. Either that or I need to start wearing a sports bra. More to come tomorrow.

Tired

did I mention that I also hate mornings? Well, I do The fact that I have chosen to run in the mornings, compounds my spite.

This morning I was extra tired and extra angry at the alarm clock. Mandy had a rough night and must have been up every hour and a half dealing with the pains and agonies of being huge with twins.

Today the run started out immediately with knee pain.  For reasons I can't explain, they subsided.  The stampeding cows were gone this morning.  My thought is that the herd had a discussion after I passed by on Monday that went something like:

"Geez, did you see that guy?  I think there must be a faux leather shortage.  People can't build recliners and fake leather car seats any more.  No car seats, no cars!  That's the only explanation I have for that guy to be out here running.  He doesn't have a car to drive or a recliner to lounge in.  With no other options, he has to run as a means of transportation!"

Another cow cleared her throat, breaking the silence and voiced what the others were thinking "Come on girls, let's do the right thing.  We need to turn ourselves into the processing plant and have our hides turned to leather.  Besides, he looks like he could have used a burger.  Let's go girls"

No, it was not cows this morning, but cats and horses.  a couple blocks from the house a cat darted across the street and stopped in the middle of the road, next to where I was running and stood there with a confused look on its face.  His head shook back and forth like it was searching the scenery in front of me and behind me trying to figure out what I was running to get to or trying to figure out what I was running from.  Either that, or it was a head shake of pity. 

I ran by a pasture that had some horses.  One of them ran up to the fence as close as it could get to me and stood there, ears standing tall and directed at me and its eyes sending a glaring gaze.  To me, it seemed that he was trying to say "Pssst!  Hey!  Yo!  Hey man, whatever was chasing you is gone!  Look!  Hey!  Trust me man, you can stop running now!  Really! What are you deaf?  Lookie here Ed, this man is deaf!" One of the horses looked up from a tuft of grass that it was munching on.  "That there is a real shame" He said. 

At least today I ran 90% of the time and walked only a few hundred feet at a time.  The overall run was about 20% easier.  That is not to say I enjoyed it 20% more.  That just means it sucked 20% less. There's a huge difference there. 

When I returned home I discovered I had shaved a whopping 5 minutes off from my previous run.  a WHOLE 1 minute off of every mile.  5 miles in 70 minutes.  Whoopee!  I seriously think I can walk faster than that.  Not only is running a whole lot more painful than running, in the long run, it isn't all that much faster.  

And then the chaffing this morning!  the shirt I wore this morning felt like sandpaper on the ol' nips. When I got in the shower, I had to check because it felt like someone had shaved them off with a razor and poured salt on the wounds.  Isn't running fun?

I'm 1/20th the way there.  Only 38 more runs to go.  

What have I done?

It's official. I hate running.

I traveled 5 miles this morning. I say "traveled" because I walked most of it. I can't rightly stake a claim like "run" 5 miles, if I didn't at least do more than half of that while actually in the state of running.

After one block my body was already begging "So, you're serious about this? Come on now, let's just turn around and go get back in bed"

After 2 blocks my body said "All right, if you are serious, then I am going to hunker down and concentrate on getting this over as soon as possible."

I ran clear up until about the first mile. I passed some cows. They most likely supposed I was one of their own and saw I was running and instinctively decided that if one of them was running, they had better run too because there is something bad or dangerous around. I caused the whole herd to stampede to the other side of the field. They all got to the far side of the field and looked back at me with confused eyes and said "Mooo" That's what they said, but I am pretty sure they said "Idiot" "Stupid" and "lame". I overheard one of the calves say "Mom, does that man hate himself?" and Its mom said back "Yes my dear, he does" and the calf said "Why?" and the cow responded "I don't know, I don't know..."

Just after the cows I saw something that made me jump. Something very small and black with white stripes on it running and squeaking in fear of me. Little baby birds. Three of them. I nearly stepped on the first one.

It was bad enough that I was dying, now I was about to crush some baby birds. This seemed like a good time to slow down and walk a bit. I walked about 100 feet and kept running until about mile 2.

At mile 2 my knee started throbbing like kettle drum with every step. I've never had knee problems. However, I don't think I have ever run further than 2 miles either.

I mix jogged and ran to mile 3. My body took turns aching in different spots. My legs, my guts, my feet. With my knee constantly aching through all of it. It was like a challenge for my body parts to see who could come up with the most agonizing dispute over this running situation. It was my colon who won.

I suddenly felt the urge to use the bathroom. When you have a load of hay in the loft of your barn and the rafters aren't too sturdy, this isn't the time to be bouncing up and down and rocking the load. I walked to mile 4.

Mile 5 came by mostly walking and short distance jogs.

Well... only 195 more to go. Runners is some mighty queer folk.

The journey begins

Andy Bernard tapes his nipples in preparation for the Michael Scott’s Meredith Palmer Memorial Celebrity Rabies Awareness Fun Run

I always strive to understand people. I find I respect them more when I see how they tick. I have repeatedly failed to understand runners. When I run I hurt all over. With every fiber of my aching body, I want to stop. A certain part of my brain repeatedly asks "So... why are we running? Hey, I don't see a bear chasing us. Is there an ax murderer? A bomb? Donny Osmond? What? Why are we running?" I never have a good answer for that part of my brain when I run.

So, in a quest to understand the runner, I am preparing to go a mile in his shoes. Well, not just one mile. 200 miles. All of them running -- or mostly running interspersed with slow ambling and heavy panting trying to figure out why I am doing this again.

Why am I doing this? I think running is awful. I don't wish the activity upon the most willing of participants. Yet I still see runners out plodding along, looking miserable, everywhere. For every runner, I am sure there are 10 people sitting at home wondering the same thing I do. Why, why, why, for the love of reclining couches, do people run? For those 10 people, I'm your guy. I care so much about you, that I am willing to run so that you don't have to. I am wandering into this house of horrors and will return with a complete report, so that you my friend can know exactly what is in there without actually having to place one running shoe in that sadistic mad house.

Starting tomorrow morning I will run a minimum of 5 miles/day, at least 4 days a week until I finally have notched 200 miles. You stay there in your chair and I will do my best to relive the horrors of such an endeavor. Why am I starting this just before my wife will be very shortly delivering twins? When do I think I will have time to sleep, let alone run? Why am I doing this again? These are all good questions. I am positively void of any solid answers. All I can say is that I do many things that lack linear logic or, any thought processes at all. I'm like a tire. That's how I roll.

As always, your eternal blogosphere friend,

Sterling