And Then I Said, ‘We Used to Have Sidewalks…'

Had it stopped snowing for at least 20 minutes between Friday evening and Sunday morning, I would have taken my long run and my semi-long run—the last two longer runs before St. Malachi next Saturday. But alas.

Mother Nature intends to beat me at the race.

It took a mere 2.5 hours to drive home on Friday evening. I’ve heard of much longer (time) shorter (distance) commutes during the snow-blitzed rush hour, so I counted myself lucky. Because of the insane traffic—I topped out at 25 mph on the ride home and average maybe 10-15 mph—I could have probably run parts of the trip faster than I drove. Especially the parking lot down OH-8 S. Woo hoo! A small part of me, however, didn’t think leaving my car Michael Stipe-style would fare well with the natives.

Even more lucky for us: I had gone grocery shopping late last week and we were set for food. I played with different dishes and even came up with several post-workout dishes that I’ll share next post. While I ate those meals without actually doing the workouts, my belly didn’t mind. This whole weekend had the color of fattening hibernation. I was just keeping with the spirit.

When we finally emerged from our caves this morning, Neil and I could vaguely make out what used to be our garages and maybe a few apartment buildings. And under about 8-10 feet of piled, fallen and plowed snow, I think there was a street.

They’re not too fond of plowing around here, and I’m just happy I bought my trusty 1998 Jetta last summer and found a brilliant neighbor like Vaughn, who bought and let us borrow a shovel. We used the car/shovel combo to get out of here for a couple of hours, buy more food and, of course, reward of laziness with cupcakes from my favorite shop.

(Without Vaughn, however, expletives might have replaced the cupcakes in this post.)

And talk about service: we slid down an icy street pulling into the cupcake shop and plowed into a snow bank. I stomped out of the car and kicked snow around for a while before Sean from MSC came out and helped Neil push while I executed the arduous task of stepping on the gas pedal in reverse.

It took us two tries before we were out and ready to be cupcaked: I had an MSC Fluff and a Vanilla Sundae; Neil had two classic chocolate cupcakes. (Thanks to Kim and Sean for making our post-blizzard Sunday sweet!)

We nixed snow-tubing plans to stave off frostbite today, but this sweet Sunday had near-perfect running weather. If only I had a place to run! As we drove back from the store, I looked over 8-10 feet of piled, fallen and plowed snow. And then I said, “we used to have sidewalks.”

Our street was about 1.5 cars wide and three inches deep with packed snow. Running just wasn’t happening this weekend. I’ll remember this around miles three and four at St. Malachi next weekend. Ouch!

What hurts most is that stupid hour we lost today. Whose bright idea was that anyway? Among all the cupcakes, napping and sunny weather I enjoyed today, however, I didn’t really notice the difference. Until now.

Still Proud to be a Cavs Fan

I may not have had the opportunity to run on Tuesday, but I did go swimming and get my cardiovascular and larynx work in at the Cavaliers game. Despite the loss, it was awesome to go to the first-ever basketball championship game in the city. There was an energy downtown that I don’t recall experiencing (even during the ’95 and ’97 world series games—curse you, Jose Mesa!), and I hope it returns each spring for many years to come.

But I have to get back downtown ASAP to get a photo with the big LeBron banner before ODOT makes them take it down.

I’m a little horse this morning, but I definitely got in some major shoulder work from all the clapping, abdominal exercise from the cheering and some serious vocal overworking for yelling about bad calls, awesome plays and the inevitable cherrypicker (ahem, Bowen).

But on the tri-training side, I made it back to the pool for a measly 1,500-yard swim, which included:

• 300 yards free warm up
• 400 yards IM
• 4 x 200 yards free

The swim started off really because I was pumped about some potentially good news I may reveal in a few weeks. But midway through the 200s I couldn’t find my rhythm. I wasn’t tired. I wasn’t tight. I just didn’t have it. In fact, swimming the last two 200s was near brutal. Where’s Flipper when you need him?

But I feel like such a sloth this week: I haven’t run since Sunday and still have 18 miles remaining on my 100-miles-by-next-Tuesday goal. Rest, however, isn’t necessarily a bad thing. And perhaps I could get in a few miles this week if I get back to my first-quarter running routine for the Cavs. That’s what’s been missing!