I'm Runnin' (Runnin' on Empty)

I'm starting to think this whole "train for a marathon in the middle of summer" thing was one of the dimmest in my considerable collection of not-so-bright ideas. I hit the pavement at 6:30 this morning, and by the time I made it 3+ miles (my minimum weekday run) I was sweating like Rosie O'Donnell at Ryan's Steakhouse. Missouri in August (well, July) is a stomach-churning humidity, one that's only made worse by that lukewarm shower, that cup of coffee. No matter how much ice water or Gatorade you drink, you can't cool down.

(Yeah, I know. EVERYONE says their part of the country has the worst humidity. It's like claiming you have the worst drivers, or you're the meth capital of North America. Life sucks everywhere. Got it.)

Naturally this has me dreading this Saturday's long run. My schedule has me going 11 miles but I'm going to try and keep up with my goal of staying two miles ahead of my chart. That would put me at 13 miles--halfway to to the finish line. Actually, it's probably more like 2/3 of the way, since everyone I've talked to said it's not training that takes you the last four or five miles, but sheer will.

Or as my grandma Nonee would say, stupidity.

The one thing that is becoming painfully obvious is I'm going to have to curtail--if not eliminate--beer consumption between now and October 20. This has me bummed. I'm a man of few vices: a little baseball, a little man-crush on Albert Pujols, beer. Better than most clergy, I would suspect. But I've noticed as the rest of my body is getting harder (I daresay you could open a soda bottle on my calves right now), my slight paunch has not diminished, and the morning-after beer bloat is even more pronounced. It's a sacrifice that will be good for me, I'm sure, but it's a sacrifice nonetheless. The good people at Leinenkugel's are (along with my family) the only ones who have managed to keep me in some semblance of emotional balance since... oh, February.

Great local blog reading of late:

* Ryan Wiksell of The Core Blog has a pastor's take on The Simpsons Movie.
* My good buddy Nathan is having a squirrel problem.
* The lovely Michelle will be selling her talents on Walnut Street this Friday (don't be dirty).

And, in the comments, leave me your advice for good athlete's diet tips. I'm feeling overwhelmed and I need you all to tell me how poorly you eat, too.

Peace,

ML