Instead of talking about winter training (and in reality, how fun is it to talk about running in the snow by yourself), I am going to give a nice little review of the past year.
Participated in my 5th Jump Weekend. By far my drunkest. I went nearly 36 hours without sleep and drank the whole time. Needless to say my judgement wasn't nearly as sharp as it could be and the end result was that I got the boot from the fraternity house. After some counseling where I put up a strong defense, I am now willing to take 95% percent of the responsibility for my action, 5% is still reserved for Evan Wolfe for trapping me in my room.
We (I didn't score any points) won conference in track. I will say this, at least I qualified for the 10k. But I dropped out of the 10k when I realized me winning the race wouldn't hurt the team's chance of losing the championship.
Got put in handcuffs.
Went to Senior Week as a 21 year old. No need to mention what happened during this uneventful trip.
Celebrated in the joy of seeing Coop sick and miserable at the wedding of Bruce Willis/Raven's Coach John Harbaugh and Jenny/Jenny.
Was on my third cross country conference championship (say that five times fast) team. Again, I was not on varsity but my leadership definitely led us to victory.
Finished my senior thesis compliments of Wikipedia.
Blacked-out in Pittsburgh and came around standing next to Boy-o inside Primanti Bros. at two in the morning.
Avoided failing out of Wesland for the seventh semester in a row.
I'm going back to Pittsburgh for New Year's Eve. I can't speculate but if I did this review next year, I can only assume with everybody coming to Pittsburgh, the events should play out like Ocean's Eleven. The original, not the one with George Clooney and Matt Damon being a d-bag. We will most likely knock over a casino or a car, depending on the amount of Captain consumed.
So as you can see, my year was filled with all sorts of shenanigans that got me into varying degrees of trouble. I can only hope that 2010 is better than 2009, minus the handcuffs and whips. -- How my Christmas went:
Christmas Eve is a tradition the world over and at the C-Breezy house it is no different. The one exception is that, this is the first year I worked on Christmas Eve. It wasn't too bad for the little work I did and I came home early. But Christmas Eve involves going over to my aunt and uncle's house for my cousin's birthday.
Let be tangent here for a moment and tell you a funny story from when I was like three. My parents, possessing the same amount of wit and humor as myself one time for my cousin's birthday gave him probably the best gift ever. We went over with this huge box. It was about four feet by four feet. My cousin lit up with excitement when he saw it. But inside that box was a smaller box, then a smaller box, then a smaller box. After about ten boxes, my cousin reaches the prize...a Barney tie. I have never seen anyone looked more defeated than when he saw the outcome.
But some highlights of the dinner include:
My other cousin's husband, which would make him like a third cousin twice removed, is from New Jersey and Italian. Needless to say, I made many references to him being a Guido.
Most of my cousins have grown up and had kids. And I would like to say it's a scary thought when your mom says that you're good with kids. However, if any ladies out there think I would be a good dad, leave your numbers in the comment page.
But most importantly, the nectar of life was there. Bud Light.
So now I am getting ready to go to church with a buzz and I want to wish everybody a Merry Christmas.
There are two nights that I should have I died: the night that I blacked out on vodka at 9:30 while playing Mario Kart and the night at Beach Week I. Of course the latter story is funnier than the first one.
It had to have been early in the week because this was the first time that I had formally introduced myself to the other vacationers in our area. Later in the week, GB, Poop, and Shotgun would introduce themselves later in the week, but I introduced myself early as the first of these guys.
I'm not sure if it was on a dare or a bet or an adventure, but I left the condo with the intention of going another condo to find a light for my black n' mild. The following events took place during an hour span but for some reason I thought it took about five minutes. I walked over to the loudest condo I could find which under the circumstances was pretty hard because "Summer of 69" by Bryan Adams shook the complex. But I walk in and I thought this happened immediately but I guess I could have been in there for about forty minutes. I get a light from some guy who also looked like he didn't belong at a high school party. As soon as the lighter had made contact with the end of the tobacco and a puff of smoke rose into the air, some girl politely tells me to extinguish it. Granted that I had been consuming my fair share of malt beverages during the entire day, my response went like this:
SHUT UP B&*$# I'M FUDGING LEAVING
Much like how anytime RJ or Gorbachev come out of the closet, the music came to immediate screeching stop and everybody looked at me. Sensing the upcoming awkwardness, I started to run out the door before I ran into a timid looking girl who was blocking my escape. This is when the next thing I said sounded bad:
GET OUT OF MY WAY BEFORE I PUT THIS OUT IN YOUR FACE
I ran out the door and onto the balcony with youthful abandon and looked across the way to our balcony to show my victory of a lit black n' mild. Unfortunately, out of the corner of my eye I saw what looked to be an angry mob coming after me. This wasn't just a bunch of high school kids, it was a full blown angry mob you see in the old movies with pitchforks and torches. I ran inside our room just as they came out demanding my whereabouts. I would like to believe that if my name was Jesus, they would have crucified me.
After that night, there was a very uneasy tension between our group and basically everybody else in the hotel. But luckily I did not die that night. -- Oh, and I also want to apologize for my facebook messing up and sending everybody viruses and junk. Coming soon, a new STD-free facebook account for all my fans. --
If there is anything more annoying than Mischler, it is people saying the phrase "do work". I'm not sure where the phrase came from and frankly if I ever meet the person who came up that phrase, I'm going to punch them in the nuts. But my point is...I've had some interesting jobs in the past. Interning at the prosecuting attorney's office was cool, except for the constant fear I had of someone coming into the court and shooting everybody. This can be blamed on my parents letting me watch Harrison Ford movies as a kid. The next job as a lifeguard was fun as hell...except for the fear of actually having to save somebody. But until you have tried to surf down a waterslide on a mat, you haven't lived. Unfortunately, knowing CPR and how to backboard somebody out of the water could not prepare me for my next job. I work for UPS.
Every winter, UPS hires people to ride around with the drivers and deliver the goods while the driver sorts everything out. And with the pay being 10.50 an hour, it pays high for the little work that is actually required. In the four days, I have worked for UPS the following things have happened:
I now know where every attractive secretary is in the Wharf District in Morgantown
I have almost been in several fatal accidents involving a delivery truck and car, truck, and people
Ran several stop signs
Finally, some woman answered the door in her towel, now if only I was a delivering a pizza and things might have turned out differently...
However, nothing beats the thrill of riding down the interstate with the door open and nothing separting you from certain death except for a seatbelt. The noise in the cab is like riding in a cargo plane and the seat you are on literally looks like it came from an Air Force cargo plane. But for 10.50 an hour, it is worth the experience.
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Every time you look, Clint Eastwood is just putting out a movie that is racist. First Gran Torino and now Invictus.
Most people know that I am a die hard Mad Men fan. That show is awesome. But given how my class load worked out last semester, I was a TV fanatic. Below is a look at my daily schedule:
9:00 Wake Up 10:30 Watch an hour of Home Improvement 11:30 Catch the end of The Price is Right 12:00 Scooby-Doo and the Pink Panther 1:00 Nap 4:00 Practice 7:00 Family Guy marathon 10:00 South Park
That was my day, basically everyday. Watching Tim Taylor joke around with with Al Borland about his mom. Drew Carey, not be as good as Bob Barker during the Showcase Showdown. A lot of people don't realize it, but the Pink Panther is a very funny cartoon. Running a little on the side and my day was rocking.
But with the season finale of Mad Men and being on break, my attention turns to the two best shows that have ever come out: The Jersey Shore and Teen Mom. MTV has outdone itself. Jersey Shore is ridiculous, it is basically the Real World + Italian people. Because in a perfect world, all guidettes would have poofs and all guidos would have blowouts. Hell, I wish I had a blowout. Because then me and The Situation could go lift weights and tan together.
But a show that touches my heart and makes me giggle like a school girl is Teen Mom. The funny scale during 16 and Pregnant was like a level 10. But Teen Mom took it to a level 11. It can't be healthy that I find people's misery funny but I do. During Teen Mom, these people are the most dysfunctional people ever. The boy and girl who have a kid together and live with their mom and dad is hilarious. If the parents have a kid together is that a sibling or a cousin.
The final results are in and Kump finished with 4534 points and Dupree finished with 4082 points. In the start of Day 2, Kump went 8.92 for 762 points in the 60m hurdles. This score put him at 3241 points in search of 4550 points meaning that he would have to score 1309 in order to hit the mark. In the pole vault, he cleared 3.40 meters for 457 points and finished the day with a 2:43 in the 1000m for 836 points.
Edgell started the with 2230 points. In the 60m hurdles, he recorded a 10.19 for 506 points, pole vault he cleared 4 meters for 617 points, and in the 1000m he finished in 2:54 for 719 points finished the heptathlon with 4082 points.
Ricky Kump and Cuylor "Dupree" Edgell are competing at in this weekend's heptathlon at Kent State. Through the first day of events, Kump sits in 20th place with 2477 points and Edgell is in 26th place with 2240 points. But overall placing doesn't matter because the focus is to qualify for nationals. For nationals, the goal is 4550 for a provisional standard and 5200 points to automatically qualify. Obvisiously, 4550 points does not guarnatee getting into the national meet.
Tomorrow events include the 60m hurdles, pole vault, and 1000m run. In order for Kump to provisionally qualify for nationals, he would have to score at least 691 points per event over the second day. This is a tough challenge but we look into the fact that Kump ran 8.85 last week in the 60m hurdles, cleared 12 feet last year in the pole vault for the decathlon, and is a sub-5 minute miler. So while the odds may seem stacked against him, he could pull out a provisional standard. Also, I'm not going to get down on Edgell, but his chances for a national standard are far off...but he is a freshmen in his first multi event and he has a chance to shine in what could be his best events in the second day. But like a fine wine, he should only get better with age and I personally see him at the indoor national meet in two or three years.
I along with most of America went to see The Blindside. At first I was confused because I thought it was about Ray Charles. But I guess it was a different kind of blind. First, let me say that I do not want to watch Joe Theisman get his leg broken, that kind of pain just makes me sick. However, I do love watching people get hurt. A few things about the movie:
Sandra Bullock is quite the bitch in the movie, but a hot one at that. I however can't take her acting career seriously since Miss Congeniality.
Speaking of hot, Collins in the movie is the daughter of Phil Collins.
I much prefered Tim McGraw as a abusive dad in Friday Night Lights, than as a nice guy in The Blindside
Speaking of Tim McGraw, he cuts a nice figure compared to the actual dad looked like.
All these reasons are why I prefer my movies to have Morgan Freeman in them. INVICTUS COMES OUT TODAY!!!:
There comes a time in every young boy's life when he goes through a rite of passage and becomes a man. Such things include: his first fight, his first kiss, and the first time he gets blacked-out drunk and pukes all over the place. But these are just small steps in being a man. In more advanced societies, the rite of passage usually involves killing an animal or in some cases like the Masai tribe, getting circumcised at the age of 16. But for American men, Senior Week is the epitome of the rite of passage. Nothing compares; the rampant alcohol abuse, watching fights break out, and occasionally being out in the sun. I did this at the young age of twenty-one.
Looking back, I think I had more fun because being older than everyone else should endeared me to them and make me on a god-like status. But mainly, I got drunk and tried to start fights. I was an evil god. But you don't want to hear about, you came for the infamous water story:
Some time during the week, at that point the days started to run together, everybody else had gone to bed and I was out smoking on the balcony. I came back in to find some random dude talking and/or harassing Jami. As soon I talked to him, my douchebag sensor went off and it went into overdrive when he said he was spending the night at our place. Sensing that his plan was to harass Jami into suicide, I began using my superior college intellect to get him to leave. He left and immediately there's a knock on the door. After he left again that's when I got the most brilliant idea and bonged three beers before going to bed.
Waking up the next morning, we were all surprised to see a pot of water on the stove. At the moment, I realized that folly of my plan:
Grant: Burdick, what's that water for? Me: ah yeah...I started boiling that water in case that guy came back and I was going to throw it on him. Everyone in the room: WHAT THE F***!
Yeah, I was going to commit murder for my friends and the guy never came around after that night. Following that incident, I was able to add him as a friend on facebook and looking back, I would have done the same thing again. -- Time for the video of the day:
There comes a time in everybody's life when they lose someone close to them. While you may think I'm not talking about death...you couldn't be more farther from the truth. I'm talking about marriage.
I was fine with Tom getting married because it wasn't so much that we were losing a friend as we were gaining an awesome Jenny. Because Tom is a lucky man and by that point in his life, he had settled down and wasn't the wild and crazy guy we once knew him as. Plus, the wedding was awesome.
But the point of the post is about a good friend and former runner Jarren, Jarren just got engaged yesterday and it bothers me. I'm happy for him and you can believe I will be at the wedding. There is just something weird about it. Yesterday during the warm-up, the Captain made the funniest comment that I heard in a while. He said, "I can remember a little over seven months ago when Jarren was on this very same track; drunk, naked and only wearing a football helmet yelling 'don't look at my small penis'". So in my heart, I believe that Jarren is not ready to settle down. He only came out of his shell last year. But with death there is rebirth and he is in love and I'm proud of him getting married. That is why I gave him some advice. -- But with death there is rebirth:
Well...it looks like finals are slowly approaching. Granted that I'm not too concerned about my grades so instead of studying, I'll be blogging and laughing at people for panicking about their grades. But after years of observation, I've noticed that our team has the following study stragies:
The Girls: The girls team will not sleep over the four day period of finals and will find their reserve in caffeine. While their hard work is admirable and makes them look like Japanese businessmen who work 90 hour weeks, they will eventually die from stress. But in the good news department, they will be on the dean's list...except for Stank (she's dumb). I will admit that I used to be a part of this group and would only manage around three hours of sleep a night during finals, but I'm a changed man now.
The Guys: A few of the guys on the team will panic when they realize they might be ineligible for next season, so they will only study for one class and panic about that.
I myself, given that I cannot possibly fail out of school at this point nor lose any scholarships will relax and maybe study in between hours of watching the boob tube.
The Captain: if there is one study strategy that has paid off brilliantly for somebody, it would be the Captain's plan to not study and only play Grand Theft Auto during finals week. I myself am not sure how he does it but he was an Academic All-American...so the results speak for themselves.
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Well, as a group we now know the dates for our next beach week. In the spirit of making things seem more important than they are, this coming year will be called BEACH WEEK II: Party in the USA. People can rest assured that I will be pushing my harder even harder this year. None of this lame four to five hours of sleep, I'm going to hope to get 2.5 hours of sleep...during the entire week.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Not really feeling too well today, so it looks like it's going to be a nice little day of watching football and napping. That being said:
First things first, barring failing out of Music Appreciation next semester, I will graduate in May. But more importantly I want to point out a fact of life. There are people who for better or worse change the world around you and effect who you are as a person. Parents, good and bad teachers in school, your best friends are all examples. However, two people from my time in college have changed my life.
The first one if RJ. The only way to describe him is a 4 year old trapped in a 24 year old body. He has never grown up. He will hold a special place in my heart for usually leading me down the wrong path and somehow he has the ability to never get into trouble but I will usually get into trouble. But here are a few examples to describe him:
In Missouri, as he is vomiting into a trash can in the hotel room, he tells Woody that he is going spoon feed s*** to Woody's kids.
Another time, we were standing in line at Wal-Mart, a kid comes up and asks if he plays basketball for Wesleyan. RJ, always the one to overreact, starts accusing the kid of being racist. I tell the kid to ask who is father is. In case you're wondering, his dad is Bimbo Coles.
Speaking of Bimbo Coles, a few weeks ago in Pittsburgh during a run with Rog and Gorbachev. Rog says that he going to sue Bimbo Coles for child support. RJ is a child.
But I think the greatest thing about RJ was how he used to make fun of me for not believing in global warming. Well I guess the joke is on him.
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The next person will also hold a special place in my memories from Buckhannon for mostly psychologically damaging me. SAUSAGE LADY. Last year, at least once a week, she would drive by in a truck and yell at us. The most usual taunt was "look at all that sausage" and "look at that sausage fest". But the joke is on her because she was taking up almost all of the cab in the truck she was driving. She was like bread that was baking and about to explode out of the breadmaker, that's the only way to describe it. Well yesterday, we saw her for the first time all school year, it was like witnessing Halley's Comet becuase we hadn't seen her in so long. But apparently she had more yeast in her that we thought because now she is so fat she has outgrown the truck and has moved up to an SUV.
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Just think about this: my mom one time called RJ a creeper.
During my junior year of high school we had a cross country coach by the name of Amy. And before I tell you about her coaching style let me tell you about a story she told us at practice about perservering. She told us that at one point in college she ran a cross country race while pregnant. Now you must be thinking, this woman told a bunch of 14 to 17 year old kids about being pregnant, they must have been grossed out. The truth is...we were. And it's not that I have anything against people having kids but at the age of 16 that reaffirmed my belief that our coach was crazy.
But fastforward a few years and everyday at practice we can never figure out where to go on the runs. The girls, on the other hand, are out the door and on their way; but for some odd reason and I can never figure it out, even though they leave before us and run for less minutes than we do, we also beat them back. For example if we have a 50 minute run and they have a 40 minute run, they'll leave before us but we'll be back at the track finishing up drills and strides when they get back. Much like how I will never understand Heisenberg's Principle of Uncertainty, how we finish before the girls is just beyond me.
But back to high school and the thought of not knowing what run we were going to do never came up. That is because we did the same thing every week:
Monday: run the cross country course twice at Apple Valley Golf Course
Tuesday: 5 mile loop at Mary Lou Retton Park. And let me just say, I don't think they should call it Mary Lou Retton Park, because she sucks. She denied being from Fairmont and I had a chance to meet her at a Fourth of July event a few years ago and she's annoying. She's got nothing on my girl Nastia.
Wednesday: Indian files at Prickett's Fort
Thursday: LSD day on the Rails-to-Trails. As much as she talked about the long-but-slow day, it made me believe she was on LSD.
Friday: run from someone's house before a spaghetti dinner
But we did this routine every week during the course of my junior season. Which is probably why the group I ran with in high school is so used to routine. Much like Brooks in The Shawshank Redemption we became institutionalized and didn't know what to do without a set schedule. Heaven forbid we run at the park on wednesday and do Indian files on a Monday. The only difference between us and Brooks was the fact we didn't write "Brooks was here" and commit suicide.
"There are no miracles in sports. You know where there are miracles? In training." - Pal Nemeth
If there is one thing that I hate more than Mischler is the thought of running in the snow. And let's face it, to say you've been training all winter long does not have the same ring as saying that you've been training all summer long. Plus it is way less fun to run during a winter night than to run a few miles durng the summer nights. And I'm not alone in this thinking and that is why we can point to three groups of people during winter training:
People who will run everyday and be in shape come January (as a senior and team captain, I should be in this group)
People who won't run and say they did (this is me)
People who won't run and instead will be playing a sport. "Dirk" is a part of this group
But coming back from winter break will then result in the following things during workouts:
Some people will actually be pushing for PR's and a chance to score at conference in May
I will be doing what I do best, leading my troops from the back of the pack
Or one lucky individual will be riding the pine during the upcoming basketball season.
But the one lucky thing about winter is that it ends and people have the chance to redeem themselves, except for the ones who prefer to be dunked on during the month of February instead of running in indoor races...their failure continues until the summer. And as the weeks turn to months and the months turn to seasons they find instead of leading from the back of the pack...they are the back of the pack.
Long time no post...well this weekend is Valentine's Day and now I finally realize why I'm also alone on that day. I neglect things. I neglect to keep up with the stories of me getting in odd situations and I neglect to take care of personal relationships. But who cares, because while others are doing romantic stuff, I'll be watching the Daytona 500...come on Tony Stewart!
Last summer...my sister graduated from the University of Notre Dame with a Master's in Accounting. The whole program is set up by the financial firm Ernst & Young, a small group graduate from the program, and the night before graduation there is a big celebration dinner/dance in the complex where the College Football Hall of Fame is.
But before we arrived to South Bend, Indiana, we have to travel across the state of Ohio. I'm not going to get into the many reasons why Ohio sucks,but we stopped halfway to stay in a city called Maumee. Maumee has to be the funniest name for a city beside Intercourse, PA. Of course the irony of Intercourse, PA is that there isn't much intercourse going on because it is full of Amish people. After leaving the great state of Ohio we arrived in South Bend and checked into the hotel that night. The next morning, when I was once a dedicated runner, I did a small run through the campus. A lot of people say that Wesleyan has a beautiful campus but Notre Dame makes Wesleyan look like a dump. The campus in August was a beautiful collage of trees and lakes and it reminded me of this. I was able to get into all the athletic buildings except for the football stadium that Jesus supposedly built.
After the run, I got lunch with my family and we headed back to the college for campus tours. Here is another instance where Notre Dame outshines Wesleyan. The girl giving the tour talked the entire time about the history and all the BS of the school, but she did it while walking backwards...in sandals. I give that girl credit for walking about two miles backwards. After the tour we headed back to the hotel to get ready for the night.
We travel into downtown South Bend and the reception is right next to the College Football Hall of Fame. I walk inside and I'm handed the program which listed that there would be four different buffets for food and the greatest words to a college student ever are penned on there: OPEN BAR
My family is seated at a table next to one of my sister's friend's family. I immediately get up and ask my parents if they want something to drink? I leave and come back with four beers. This confuses my parents and they ask why I have four beers. My response, "one for you, one for you, and two for me", I say as I take a swig from both bottles of Coors Light. The family on the other side of the table give a look of shock and my parents just shake their heads, they know like a hurricane that a storm is building out at sea and they should board up the windows for the impending damage. To try and prevent Hurricane Chris from happening, they tell me to pace myself. Still young and innocent, the only time I can recall the word "pace" is in track workouts and I didn't think pace applied to this situation.
Being that I was twenty and inexperienced in the ways of how to behave at formal occasions I do the following things during the night:
Chug a beer in the bathroom with some guy who was graduating in the morning
Skipped the entire meal and drank while my family ate
Had an in-depth conversation with a guy about high school football in California
Requested that the DJ play "Freek a Leek", this was rejected when he said it was inappropriate, I then request "I Want to Dance with Somebody"
I think the funniest conversation I had during the entire night was when I was talking to some girl who was the little sister of one of my sister's friend.
Her: So what school do you go to?
Me: It's a small school you've never heard of.
Her: Well, what is it?
Me: West Virginia Wesleyan.
Her: Yeah, I've never heard of it.
Me: So what school do you go to?
Her: Princeton.
Me: Yeah, like Harvard
Her: Yeah, sort of.
Me: So you're really smart?
Her: I wouldn't say that.
Me: Well I'm pretty smart too.
At the end of the night, my parents led me to the car where I slumped into the backseat and passed out. Being loving parents, they carried my comatose body up two flights of stairs at the Hampton Inn where they threw me on the bed.
--
It takes a special guy to wake up wearing what you wore to bed that night and it turns out that I'm that kind of guy. But I woke up the next morning still wearing my shirt and tie. My parents are getting ready to leave to go to mass (which is pointless because we're not Catholic) and graduation. I wear the same clothes from the night before and walk down to the car. So I sat through mass and graduation and kept my head down so no one would notice me until we left the campus. The End.
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If you haven't heard, you should read what John Mayer said about Jessica Simpson, here. I'm not sure what sexual napalm is, but all I know is I want to destroy a Vietnamese village with it.
P.S. I guess I'm above average in terms of smarts, got me a 500 unofficially on the GMAT.
It's the end of Thanksgiving which means I'm heading back to school, at school, or comtemplating dropping out. Pretty soon I will open my dorm fridge and remember that I have left milk that expired around the 15th in there until the end of the month; it should still be good. And while I should have been working on research for my History Comprehensive Exam, I did what every American male did during the past week: watch football. Running is all about endurance and being able to watch football from noon until midnight is an endurance test unto itself. Another thing I did during break was eat, a lot...
One night I was eating dinner with my family and we were watching the Biggest Loser on TV. The biggest (get the pun) irony was that we were eating these huge steaks while morbidly fat people fight to lose weight. Using my superior Wesleyan education I stumbled upon the greatest television idea since I Love Lucy, the Biggest Loser: College Football Coaches. (Sidenote: if anybody else has thought of this before, you are a liar and I thought of it well before last Tuesday night at dinner).
This could be one of the greatest shows ever and if you were wondering who the contestants would be, I saved you the trouble of thinking and included the list:
Right now, you're probably saying to yourself that Rodriguez isn't fat and I totally agree with you, but everybody could stand to lose a few pounds. The greatest thing is that these guys wouldn't even have to take time out of their spring recruiting schedule to do the show, they're all going to get fired anyways for having terrible records at the end of this season.
Which is why I am going to veer away from the topic of television shows and talk about how ridiculous is it when fat people are distance coaches. My freshmen and sophomore years of high school, the football coach was also the track coach. And while the football coach did understand the concepts of the spread offense, he knew nothing on how to maximize potential in the 1600. We did four workouts a week on the track and ran probably two meets a week during the spring. During one practice, all the distance runners had to run forties like it was the NFL combine. We were never allowed to leave the stadium, it was literally like a Nazi prison camp (maybe not). Luckily, all the jumpers had to do sprint workouts also and I would sometimes disappear behind the high jump mats and take a nap during practice. But if there is a positive, it makes me appreciate having a coach now who actually knows what he's doing.
But my television idea and thoughts on coaching will have to be put on hold for a little bit while I work on research and try to graduate from college. So I probably won't be getting much sleep and won't be doing too much research.
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I think it's also time to point out a few things about this blog (that is if anybody is reading it). This blog is not in any way affliated with West Virginia Wesleyan College, the URL is wesleyanrunning but only because averagerunner was taken. Also, this blog is not affliated with the NCAA, the WVIAC, or their sponsors and associates. Basically, I don't want to get sued or lose my eligibility. Finally, I want to make this blog big, I was once heard a man say, "when I dream, I dream big."
For the average college distance runner, we go through shoes in much the same fashion that girls go through shoes. Most running shoes only last about 500 miles so every month or so we're forced to make the pilgrimage to one of the mecca's of footwear (Finishline, Footlooker, or Dick's). My personal preference is the Finishline at the mall in Bridgeport.
I've seriously been going there about every three months for the past four years. And every time I walk into the store the same thing happens. I walk in and find the pair that I want, but before I can pick them up and get the right size, the same worker everytime I'm there approaches me. He starts to talk about the shape of my foot and finding the right shoe for my pronation, supanation, inflamation, masturbation, population, and generation. Like that guy is some podiatrist trying to help me run a four minute. So before I can say anything he starts pulling shoes off the display and handing them to me in the following order:
a remake of the Nike Cortez from the 70's (I am not Steve Prefontaine)
I finally get in a word and get the pair that I want then the following conversation takes place: Worker: So are you a runner?
Me: Yeah, I run for Wesleyan.
Worker: Hey do you know Grant?
Me: Yeah, I'm on the team with him.
Worker: Yeah, I went to high school with him.
Seriously, I've had this conversation verbatim about four times a year for the past four years. And i still can't figure out what my Finishline Winner's Circle points are for. But that's the struggle I go through for my sport.
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Another thought on running shoes: I switched to Nike because T-Bone trains in them and he's fast so if I train in them I'll be fast. The logic takes care of itself.
But a true champion, face to face with his darkest hour, will do whatever it takes to rise above. A man fights, and fights, and then fights some more. Because surrender is death, and death is for pussies. - Kenny Powers
