January is a harsh month. Generally it starts off with hopes and goals set for the new year, they taper to hopes by the 15th and by the time we've muddled through a short 27 days, most hope has died in a grey scale, cold, bleak fall into the abyss.
I say harsh on the personal and the business level. January is our slowest month at the shop, where there are days like today that I wonder why I even put pants on. Training is under way for Spring marathons, but we only get that blessed group run interaction on Saturday morning until this weather breaks. It's cold, it's dark, and I am reminded why the suicide rate is so high in Seattle.
Even the dog won't play. There she lays on the rug, hoping to have the opportunity to great (maul) the next unsuspecting customer. And yet she stays asleep, lulled by the ticking of keys as orders are placed for next Fall.
It began as a good morning, however. My wife, pup and I have recently moved further into the dark recesses of Bedford County. I fear that soon we will become one of "them". I kid. Bedford's a beautiful county, the house we bought is pretty awesome and the view we have is hard to rival. I think, I don't really stand outside in this crap weather to look for too long. From what I gather though, it'll be great on Summer nights!
I got to check out the area this morning, getting a feel for the hills and roads I've only previously driven. The roads we frozen and lightly traveled and it was 25*, prefect chance to try out the new Salomon Sense Mantras. I like establishing new routes. I like it even more that I have a 3.1 and a 5.5 mile loop straight out of the door, with much, much more exploring to be done. The house sets at the top of a hill with three possible access point: a long hill, a long hill or a gradual back road climb that also uses a section of the latter long hill. I do like to climb, which makes this perfect!
These two climbs, though, are nothing like my previous normal routes. Sawmill Road in Fishertown was a good darn hill. Coming up the western side was a nice warm up beginning at the half mile mark. It was just enough to wake you up but not not enough to have you sucking wind. The eastern side, however, was a longer, more gradual climb with a steep kick up at the very end which always had me suffering up and over the top. The road "Ts" at the top, with another road climbing slightly then dropping down to Fishertown Market, where the men would sit in the mornings and, I'm sure, debate my level of sanity and orientation of physical attraction. That's a sweet hill. Go do hill repeats on that sucker: 5 up hard, 3 down easy, 1 down hard and finish the loop. That's a rough morning that'll make you strong in no time!
I've moved four times since I began running. My original running routes, where I left half a person melted somewhere on the pavement, were in Maryland, 16 miles from Ocean City. I had a 3 mile, a 2 mile, a 6 mile, a 10 and somewhere around a 12. I worked nights, had a screwed up sleep schedule, got the bug and ran after work each morning, before work each evening and on days of would either walk or yog the 2 mile loop after dinner. It's odd to think, but the area down there was all farm land. Corn, horses and the most awful smell you'll ever encounter in 90* heat: chicken farms. Man were they bad! Not only could you smell the farms a half mile away, but they transported chickens almost every day in tractor trailers, going Heaven knows where. How could they move 18 wheelers full of chickens and yet still have chickens at the farms?? Every time one of those bad boys rolled on by, you would've thought you got punch in the face with a fist made out of garbage. There were people I got to know, some who handed me water, some who cursed me out, some who pushed me off the roads, but these routes are still very special. Even now thinking about it I'm getting nostalgic.
For instance, there was one farm that had a Colt that I would talk to almost every day. He would meet me at one end of the fence and run with me to the other end. It was awesome in the old sense of the word. That's still probably one of the coolest things I've experienced during a run.
Moving back from Maryland to Pa was a kick in the lungs. Maryland is flat in that area, and Pa is anything but flat. I found that my 5 milers here felt like my 10 milers there, even in the cool fall temps in Waynesburg. College is where I really started having fun, doing long runs out to WalMart for 10 miles in the mornings (which impressed people who hated driving out there) and "racing" on the weekends in Pittsburgh. I say "racing" but I'm in no way competitive, I do these races for shirts and fun. I'd love to see the area's running community grow to what they've got going down there in the 'Burg. We've got a good base, we just need to convert more runners!!
I won't bore you anymore, what I'm getting at here is that routes are like your girlfriend. You get to know every inch of them, even navigating them in the pitch dark. You know where the hurt climbs are, when you can relax, where the blind turns are, the difference in temperatures on top of the ridge and in the valleys. You are connected with them on a friendship level. It's like choosing who to go out with on Friday night. Do I want to party? The guys. Do I want a hard run? Hominy Hill loop. Oh well. Things change, life carries you around, and new friends are made.
Here's to a change of scenery.
I say harsh on the personal and the business level. January is our slowest month at the shop, where there are days like today that I wonder why I even put pants on. Training is under way for Spring marathons, but we only get that blessed group run interaction on Saturday morning until this weather breaks. It's cold, it's dark, and I am reminded why the suicide rate is so high in Seattle.
Even the dog won't play. There she lays on the rug, hoping to have the opportunity to great (maul) the next unsuspecting customer. And yet she stays asleep, lulled by the ticking of keys as orders are placed for next Fall.
It began as a good morning, however. My wife, pup and I have recently moved further into the dark recesses of Bedford County. I fear that soon we will become one of "them". I kid. Bedford's a beautiful county, the house we bought is pretty awesome and the view we have is hard to rival. I think, I don't really stand outside in this crap weather to look for too long. From what I gather though, it'll be great on Summer nights!
I got to check out the area this morning, getting a feel for the hills and roads I've only previously driven. The roads we frozen and lightly traveled and it was 25*, prefect chance to try out the new Salomon Sense Mantras. I like establishing new routes. I like it even more that I have a 3.1 and a 5.5 mile loop straight out of the door, with much, much more exploring to be done. The house sets at the top of a hill with three possible access point: a long hill, a long hill or a gradual back road climb that also uses a section of the latter long hill. I do like to climb, which makes this perfect!
These two climbs, though, are nothing like my previous normal routes. Sawmill Road in Fishertown was a good darn hill. Coming up the western side was a nice warm up beginning at the half mile mark. It was just enough to wake you up but not not enough to have you sucking wind. The eastern side, however, was a longer, more gradual climb with a steep kick up at the very end which always had me suffering up and over the top. The road "Ts" at the top, with another road climbing slightly then dropping down to Fishertown Market, where the men would sit in the mornings and, I'm sure, debate my level of sanity and orientation of physical attraction. That's a sweet hill. Go do hill repeats on that sucker: 5 up hard, 3 down easy, 1 down hard and finish the loop. That's a rough morning that'll make you strong in no time!
I've moved four times since I began running. My original running routes, where I left half a person melted somewhere on the pavement, were in Maryland, 16 miles from Ocean City. I had a 3 mile, a 2 mile, a 6 mile, a 10 and somewhere around a 12. I worked nights, had a screwed up sleep schedule, got the bug and ran after work each morning, before work each evening and on days of would either walk or yog the 2 mile loop after dinner. It's odd to think, but the area down there was all farm land. Corn, horses and the most awful smell you'll ever encounter in 90* heat: chicken farms. Man were they bad! Not only could you smell the farms a half mile away, but they transported chickens almost every day in tractor trailers, going Heaven knows where. How could they move 18 wheelers full of chickens and yet still have chickens at the farms?? Every time one of those bad boys rolled on by, you would've thought you got punch in the face with a fist made out of garbage. There were people I got to know, some who handed me water, some who cursed me out, some who pushed me off the roads, but these routes are still very special. Even now thinking about it I'm getting nostalgic.
For instance, there was one farm that had a Colt that I would talk to almost every day. He would meet me at one end of the fence and run with me to the other end. It was awesome in the old sense of the word. That's still probably one of the coolest things I've experienced during a run.
Moving back from Maryland to Pa was a kick in the lungs. Maryland is flat in that area, and Pa is anything but flat. I found that my 5 milers here felt like my 10 milers there, even in the cool fall temps in Waynesburg. College is where I really started having fun, doing long runs out to WalMart for 10 miles in the mornings (which impressed people who hated driving out there) and "racing" on the weekends in Pittsburgh. I say "racing" but I'm in no way competitive, I do these races for shirts and fun. I'd love to see the area's running community grow to what they've got going down there in the 'Burg. We've got a good base, we just need to convert more runners!!
I won't bore you anymore, what I'm getting at here is that routes are like your girlfriend. You get to know every inch of them, even navigating them in the pitch dark. You know where the hurt climbs are, when you can relax, where the blind turns are, the difference in temperatures on top of the ridge and in the valleys. You are connected with them on a friendship level. It's like choosing who to go out with on Friday night. Do I want to party? The guys. Do I want a hard run? Hominy Hill loop. Oh well. Things change, life carries you around, and new friends are made.
Here's to a change of scenery.
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