The Adventures of Cowboy Hazel

 Well, all of the time that I had planned on spending writing something up here (and quite a bit more, actually) was instead spent upgrading to the newest version of WordPress and moving the blog to this new address. The upgrade to new WP was in hopes that the new spam filters would be better — I’ve been getting overwhelmed with ridiculous spam comments on both my blogs lately. (But, thanks for telling me “Nice post,” Mr. Penis Enhancing Pills Cheap. I appreciate your support.) Only, the upgrade didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped. I had customized the old installation quite a bit and all these functions, classes, etc. suddenly stopped working. I think I got everything back to normal, but if you notice anything weird, let me know. The move (from rambles.cowboyhazel.com to www.cowboyhazel.com/blog) is just part of an ongoing attempt to move away from subdomains for SEO reasons. I moved my photos tonight as well and all the mod_rewrite there got funky so I spent like an hour fixing that too. So, now, three hours later, there is hardly any noticeable difference to my site and I feel like I wasted a perfectly good evening. Eh…

But, before I started that nonsense, I headed down to Nike on 57th Street to pick up some socks and ended up getting a bunch of running gear — two hats, another pair of gloves, a pair of tights (yes, I caved in), and a pair of running pants that looked too short, but that the guy convinced me would be long enough. Sure enough, when I got home and tried them, they were too short. So, I’ll have to run back down there sometime next week and swap them for something else. Maybe more tights — we’ll see how the other pair works.

I also stopped by the wine store and picked up a few bottles including a 2007 Malbec. 2007! Don’t know why, but that really freaked me out. Hard to believe that 2009’s right around the corner. Where the hell is my jet pack and flying car?

I’m taking an unscheduled day off tomorrow to let my legs rest up before Saturday’s 22 miler. So, I finished the month with 181.6 miles — another personal best. I feel like I picked up a lot of confidence this month too. The two 20 milers going so smoothly was a big part of that. But, even bigger was the fact that I ran two 13 milers in sub-7 minute miles. Finally, as weird as it sounds, I got a big boost from being still being able to run well while fighting off this respiratory illness. I was just so scared before that a repeat of 2001 was going to happen, but after Staten Island, I know that I don’t have to worry about that anymore. No matter what bug attacks me, I am going to wake up on November 23rd and finish the 26.2 strong.

I was going to write a bit about the New York City Marathon and my spectator plans, but that will have to wait for another day. I’m exhausted and I need to get the hell away from this computer.

Well, Game 5 of the World Series is in a rain delay, and the Colts vs. Titans game just isn’t capturing my attention, so I decided to take a minute and jot down a couple thoughts here. First off, about the rain delay — I just learned from our dear friend Joe Buck that, if the game hadn’t been tied, it could have actually been called as an official game because of the elements. Meaning, if they had decided to roll out the tarps a half hour earlier (before the Rays scored that second run to tie it in the bottom of the sixth), the Phillies could have conceivably won the World Series without ever finishing the game. What the fuck? Really? That’s retarded. Who the hell came up with that rule? I want to see the Phillies win this thing as much as anyone (after all, they will probably be my home town team soon), but not because of a rain delay. If they had called the game, that would completely rob the winning team of the moment of victory. Not to mention how that would leave the losers feeling… And the fans… Well, thank God it didn’t happen tonight (now the game would be suspended until tomorrow if they can’t resume tonight since it’s tied), but somebody really needs to get this crazy rule fixed.

Anyway, despite what you might gather from that first paragraph, I haven’t been sitting around watching the tube all day. I was actually quite productive. I got about ten hours of work done, cleaned up my house, then did about ninety pounds of laundry. It feels so good to have that last one checked off the list. I’m the guy who buys sheets and towels when they’re all dirty because he doesn’t want to wash them so when I finally get to the point where I realize I can’t procrastinate any longer, I’m left with a hell of a lot of clothes to wash. Today was the sheets/towels run: 5 sets of queen size sheets, probably about 20 big towels, plus an assortment of hand towels, dish towels, wash cloths, and a bunch of running gear I decided to toss into the mix since I was going anyway. So, I end up barely able to squeeze out the door because I’m carrying a full hockey bag and two of those mesh laundry bags laundry. And then there’s the two-and-a-half block hike to the place, then the joys of an East Harlem laundromat for an hour and a half, and finally, the hike back home with the back-breaking load.

The only thing missing from today was running. I was so happy that today was Monday, and therefore, a rest day. Usually I hate my off days because I get all antsy and irritable, but not today. My body is so beat up and sore right now, I was more than happy to take a day off. Why am I so sore? Well, for starters, I’ve run 188 miles in the past 30 days, during most of which I’ve been battling this nasty respiratory illness. My last day off was a week ago Monday and, since then, I’ve had a few intense workouts thrown in the mix — the hill workout Wednesday, a 13 mile run at a 6:59 pace on Saturday (only slightly off my P.R. half-marathon pace), and a fast 7 mile run yesterday up in the Bronx (which was supposed to be a short recovery run). I’m really trying to be smart about training for my marathon this time around, though, and so I’m listening to my body. Although I’m feeling a lot better tonight than I was this morning, I’m still going to take it easy tomorrow and run my 5 miles slow. Plus, I’m going to take an extra rest day on Friday so that my legs will be fresh for Saturday’s 22 miler. Yikes, don’t even want to think about that now…

So, instead, let me wrap this up with one final thought. Do you ever have those moments where you just feel like a giant moron for missing out on something that’s really good? Well, I had one of those yesterday… Over a year after moving over to the east side on the 6 line, I finally decided to find out what was up at the end of it. I discovered that Pelham Bay Park is one of NYC’s hidden gems — well, as hidden as an enormous park three times the size of Central Park can be. I was running through woods, alongside a beach, over bridges to little islands. It was all very scenic and very relaxing — my little escape from the city without ever leaving the city. I’m just bummed that I missed out on an entire summer of running up there.

They say a win’s a win and you should always be happy with one. But I don’t necessarily buy that. Not on days like today at least. Nobody (well, except for maybe Leon Washington) in the Jets locker room should be feeling too good about their win over the Chiefs today. Yes, you won… barely. But, losing this game wasn’t even a question. The Chiefs were 1-5 going into today and their all-star running back was out of the game because of legal troubles. Their third string quarterback — a rookie from Coastal Carolina University (Is that even a real school?) — was starting his second game ever and entered the game with the worst active passer rating in the league. How was this not a blowout? You should have won by fifty. Instead, Brett Favre (the supposed demigod of passing), throws not one, not two, but three interceptions! The Chiefs had a fourth quarter lead and then, even after the final scoring drive by the Jets, a chance to come back and win in the final minute. Inexcusable.

Meanwhile, down in Miami, Chad Pennington completes 22 of 30 for 314 yards and leads the woeful Dolphins (let’s not forget that they were 1-15 last year) to an upset victory past the 5-1 Bills. But, still, nobody questions the Jets’ decision to bring in Favre. I’m listening to post-game highlights and reading articles over at ESPN.com and everyone’s talking about what a great rally Favre put together! Are you kidding me? A rally wouldn’t even be necessary if he hadn’t fucked everything up so badly to begin with! He’s now thrown 11 interceptions this season, the highest in the entire league. Oh, and he’s 39 years old. So, even if he was having a good season (which he’s not — it’s mediocre at best, despite what everyone keeps saying), bringing him on board was incredibly short-sighted.

Well, what’s done is done and all we can do now is hope for the best. But, I must admit, I’m not too optimistic at this point. True, the Jets have a winning record of 4-3, but none of those four wins was anything to brag about. They all came against struggling teams and none of them (with the exception of the Cincinnati game) was all that convincing of a win. So, it’s tough to expect great things from the second half of the season — the half when New York actually has to play some good teams.

Let me just say that this is not going to be as monumental as the music I’m listening to while writing it: Johannes Brahms’ Symphony No. 3 in F Major. I think monumental is a good word. I don’t know how people can listen to this stuff everyday. It’s just too powerful and has too much going on. I’m having trouble concentrating on writing because I keep getting lost in the changing music. Maybe that’s why I never listen to classical music. Or maybe it’s just because I never have it around. I think I could get used to it though. The reason I’m listening to it now is because the store on 116th Street that’s run by the nuns had a box of records sitting outside today when I walked past. I picked up seven albums for $7. I’ve been listening to them all afternoon and am pretty happy with what I ended up with. I didn’t really recognize any of it, I was just picking stuff with cool album covers. Seems to have worked.

Anyway, I don’t really want to write a lot because I’m so damn sick of sitting here at my computer. Instead, here’s a couple quick notes:

I just baked biscuits and they were not as delicious as I was hoping that they would be.

I finally (after like two months of being sick) called the doctor yesterday. Well, actually I called the free health clinic. Anyway, the soonest I could get an appointment was for November 9th. But, that works for me. First off, beggars can’t be choosers. Plus, going to the doctor scares the shit out of me, so it’s a lot easier to think of it as being far off in the distance. And, most importantly, I’m pretty sure that I’m not gonna just keel over and die in the next two weeks — if I’ve toughed it out the last couple months, what’s another couple weeks?

Good news is that these past couple days, I have been feeling slightly better. I’ve been overloading on the vitamins and water and all that good stuff. Although, I haven’t been getting as much sleep as I should. I’ve been up at 4:30 every day to go running. But tomorrow, I’m sleeping in until 7:00. Holy crap — I just said “sleeping in until 7:00.”

While watching Game 1 of the World Series last night, I managed to shatter a (full) wine glass. I took that as a sign that I needed to get to sleep. It was my first glass of the night.

I never finished watching that documentary on Jack Kerouac. It was horrible.

I did, however, finish reading What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. It was pretty good. Not life changing or anything, but it was good to see in the mind of another runner/writer (not that I’m comparing my writing with Murakami’s, but I’m calling myself a writer in the same sense that I call myself a runner but am not comparing myself to the elites.)

And I started reading Nikolai Gogol’s Dead Souls. I’ve been wanting to read this one for a while. Dostoevsky mentions it a few times and, as you may or may not know, I’m a big time fan of Dostoevsky so if he thinks it’s good, I want to read it.

Running has been good this week. I was thoroughly beat up by yesterday’s hill/speed workout but, other than that, I’ve been feeling pretty good. I have another six miler tomorrow and then 13 on Saturday. I’m excited to have this light weekend — it will be the first one in a month that I haven’t had either a race or a twenty-miler.

I went down to the Upper East Side to buy running tights but when I got to the store, I just couldn’t do it. I ended up with some fleece sweats instead. My summer running wardrobe was pretty much a page straight out of the Nike catalog and I had originally intended on doing the same thing for winter, but I don’t know, this winter running gear just seems too serious. I mean, Jesus, I’m just trying to have fun here. If sweat pants were good enough for Rocky, they’re good enough for me. I’ve also been thinking about just buying really high socks (I saw some cool ones at American Apparel the other day) and wearing them with shorts for a circa 1974 look.

I think that I was predestined to eat Chinese food for lunch today. I tried to avoid it, but it had some sort of mysterious pull on me and I couldn’t say no. It was disgusting and I immediately regretted my decision.

Just minutes before that, the clerk at the pharmacy gave me a crazy look when I went up to the counter with a box of Kleenex, some shampoo, and bubble bath. I’m pretty sure it was the last one that got her attention. What, I can’t enjoy a nice relaxing bath too? Why? Because I’m a man? Because I have a beard? Fuck you. I will have as many bubble baths as I want. Don’t give me your dirty looks. It was intense. I probably over-analyzed that one a bit…

This crazy little herd of bugs has found its way into my house and they’re annoying the hell out of me. They just sort of meander around the sky seeming to have no purpose with their journeys other than to disrupt me. I don’t know what they are. Gnats maybe? Anyone know how to get rid of them?

I’m going to go watch the rest of the game now. And maybe part of a movie. I haven’t decided yet. Night.

I feel like shit right now. My chest is so tight and my sinuses are still congested and my legs ache and I keep coughing up this horrible, disgusting stuff that I haven’t coughed up since I quit smoking (and which was a big part of the reason I quit in the first place.) I am finally going to bite the bullet and track down a doctor this week. It’s gonna be a pain in the ass, though, because I don’t have health insurance and can’t afford to spend the small fortune that seeing a doctor here in Manhattan would cost. I researched a couple free clinics, but it seems like you have to jump through a lot of hoops to get an appointment there. But, I’m really kinda out of options here — I need to get this problem with my lungs fixed soon before it gets worse and I have an encore performance of my failed marathon attempt of 2001. And, with all this economic crap hitting the fan and the financial uncertainties that brings with it, I really can’t be out spending more money than I already am. So, it looks like I’ll be jumping through hoops. Wish me luck.

But, before you start feeling too sorry for me, you should know that part of the physical misery I’m experiencing right now (mainly the soreness in my legs) was brought about by my own foolishness in skimping out on proper recovery from yesterday’s 20 miler. I had friends from Colorado in for the weekend and so, rather than going through my typical post-run routine, as soon as I got home and showered after the run, we headed down to Union Square and got lunch and a couple beers from Heartland Brewery. From there we walked over to the West Village Pet Store (an art exhibit thing that was totally lost on my un-artistic self). Along the way, we found a used record store and I was able to extend my new collection with some Elton John, Barry Manilow, Barbara Streissand, and Tom Rush. This is what I love about having the record player. I would have never bought any of those for CD (well, maybe the Elton John), but I’ve actually enjoyed listening to all of them. In fact, I’m listening to the Barry Manilow now. But, back to what I was saying, from the Pet Store, we went to a grill to get a couple more beers, then hiked back to the subway and finally ended up on the Upper East Side eating sushi (and drinking Japanese beer). Finally, after my day-long beer tour of Manhattan, we ended up back at my place and started drinking vodka cocktails.

So, as you can imagine, my four mile recovery run this morning was actually at a slower pace than yesterday’s twenty. It didn’t help that I read the weather wrong and was totally overdressed. Still, it was the slowest I’d run this little stretch along the East River near my house since September of last year. Yikes. But that didn’t stop me from getting a couple beers at brunch back down on the U.E.S. They were delicious and did a great job washing down my super-nutritious meal of fish and chips.

This weekend was a good break, though, because I really have to buckle down and get some serious work done this week. Just signed a new contract with Nathaniel today for an investment site that we’re going to be building and I still have my mile-long checklist of crap to do for my own sites, not to mention a forty-hour week for Precision. But, I still have another few hours to enjoy before all that, so let me get back to my recliner where I’ll finish watching Game 7 of the ALCS and then a documentary on Jack Kerouac that I’ve been wanting to watch for a while. Good night.

This addiction to running that they speak of is no joke. I’m fiending for a hit. But, no, I can’t go running now. I have to wait until the morning. You would think that this morning’s run would have cured the itch — a total of eight miles with six sub-3-minute (a couple seriously sub-3-minute) half-mile intervals stuck in the middle. But no. All day long, all I have been able to think about is how good it would feel to get outside and go for another run. I’ve been antsy all week — there’s a lot on my mind — and this always makes the urge to go running worse, but this is extreme. I’d seriously go outside right now and run again if it weren’t for the fear of injuring myself.

This morning’s run was amazing. We did a mile warm-up which led us to the Reservoir in Central Park. I did the first half-mile around 2:40 and it felt great. I intentionally slowed myself down a few times during it because I was worried about not conserving enough energy for the rest. The second one was pretty much the same thing. On the third, I didn’t even think about speed, I was just focusing on form. I was trying to keep my head from moving and making sure that my arms were swinging parallel to my body and checking that my ankles weren’t rotating. I also focused on breathing. In, out, in, out. Steadily. It was almost like I was watching myself run and critiquing. Still, without even thinking of speed, it ended up under three minutes. The fourth I ran hard again. Then, the fifth, back to watching form. And, finally, on the sixth half mile, I set out sprinting. I was running so fast that I didn’t hear Sarah call out that it was time to stop. Truthfully, I must admit that I slowed down slightly about a quarter-mile into it but it wasn’t by much. I nearly sprinted the half mile (six miles into the run at that point) and even a little extra. I don’t know my time exactly, but I’d be willing to wager good money that it was sub 2:30. This isn’t the first time I’ve ever run that fast, but it was the first time I’d ever run that fast and felt that good afterwards. Thing is, having a run that felt that good just left me wanting more…

I need to pause here and talk about the magic that is New York City at 4:45 in the morning. Walking across Harlem that early (or late, depending how you look at it), you run into a lot of people who haven’t made it home yet from the night before. And, there’s always this look that they give you when they see you in your running gear, as they pause and take another sip of the paper-bag-covered beer. Is this guy for real? Why the fuck would anyone go running in the middle of the night? And then they stumble on, and you walk on, but not without taking something away from the exchange. They pass the baton of the new day on to you. We’re done, they say, now you take over. Later, on the run itself, the sky slowly starts to lighten and the bright lights within the skyscrapers don’t seem to contrast with the backdrop so much anymore. Then the water begins to reflect the light from the sky — the Reservoir, the Hudson, the East River — it seems to gradually suck the darkness out of the sky. By the time you finish and are walking home, the sun has arrived and people are dressed in khakis and waiting for buses. They yawn and sip on their coffee and read The Post, foolishly thinking that the day is just beginning. But you know better. For you, the peak of the day has already passed.

I’m procrastinating. Badly. I have so much work to do but I just can’t seem to make myself do it. Yet, I don’t think it’s because I’m being lazy. I mean, I’ve been quite productive in my procrastination. I just spent close to 3 hours busily doing household chores and would have kept going except that I ran out of things to do. Everything is exactly as it should be. Except for work. I have a checklist written out in my comp book that is over two pages long but I can’t seem to make a dent on it. Why? I think part of it is just that I ran out of thinking power. I’m beginning to learn that our minds have limits to the amount of exertion they can sustain, just like our bodies. And, frankly, I’m tapped out. This, of course, is a problem, but I don’t really know how to fix it right now so I’m just going to quit worrying about it for a bit and hope it goes away.

Instead, I’ll mention a much happier subject: running. This illness seems to have mostly passed and I was feeling good this morning when I went over to the west side for an early run along the Hudson. It was a very leisurely run (just over 6 miles at close to an eight minute pace) but felt amazing. By the time I got home after walking back across town, my legs were already jonesin for another run. Maybe that’s a sign that I didn’t run hard enough this morning. Or maybe it’s just that I’m finally getting back into shape. Either way, it was a cool feeling. And, I’m guessing I won’t be feeling the same way tomorrow — We have 800m intervals scheduled…

One other note that I forgot to mention in my report on Staten Island: I went into the race with a month-old beard. I never really planned on growing it; it just kinda happened. Whether planned or not, it obviously had a positive impact on my running skills. And, being that it’s October (the official month of the playoff beard) and I’m a fairly superstitious person, I’m thinking that I’m probably not going to be able to shave this thing off before the marathon. But, who knows… It seems like I always jinx these things by mentioning them. Perhaps that’s why I’ve been so mum about it this far.

(Yes, I was hoping to unjinx that by mentioning the jinx.)

I think part of the problem with me wanting to avoid work is also coming from the fact that my wrist/hand hurts so damn bad from the mouse. I’ve tried everything I can think of from using a trackball to using the mouse left handed, but nothing seems to work. I think part of the problem is my office chair or, technically, last thereof. I just sit at my dining room table most days using one of those chairs. Or, if I happen to be at the desk, it’s sitting on this 80-year-old wooden chair that I brought with me from Boston instead of my nice, leather office chair because I felt it matched my decor better. (Stupid.) Anyway, I was reading an article and they say that the height of your wrist is very important and I’m thinking that sitting too low in these chairs is probably part of the problem. Of course, there’s going to be some pain from sitting at my computer 70 hours a week, but it shouldn’t be this bad. Maybe I could get one of those dorky looking wrist guard things that bowlers wear. I wonder if that would help.

Well, speaking of, I should get away from the computer now if I’m not actually working. I’m going to go read some more of Haruki Murakami’s What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. So far, it’s a great book. More on that later.