Welcome to the '80s, Saucony

As I have written about before, I am devoted to Saucony Triumph running shoes. I have purchased several pairs, from Progrid 4-6. On a few occasions, they've had ugly colors, but if you ask and look around, you can avoid the drab gray mesh with drab gray trim. I have run in the white and sparkly blue, white and light green, white and bright red, and currently white with black and pearly green. All lovely.

I also really like buying shoes at the Fleet Feet store near my work. They are smart, friendly people, they keep track of the shoes and sizes I've bought (not difficult, I suppose, when you always buy the same shoe in the same size) and they give good discounts and coupons.

But today, my allegiance was tested. I went to Fleet Feet ready to buy the shoes that will take me through the last weeks of training and through the race, and I left the store with a pair of socks as consolation.

My dear sweet Saucony: how in the name of all that is decent can a team of your designers look at a running shoe that is trimmed in silver as shiny as aluminum foil, accented with purple the color of grape Hubba Bubba and detailed with reflective black plastic and say to themselves, let's do it! No. No, no, no. This is not a running shoe. This is a bedazzled '80s nightmare.

The shoe fits right, it feels so cushy and springy. And when I ran through the parking lot I could squint enough that the shoe looked fairly normal as I glimpsed it mid-stride. But back in the store, as I adjusted the laces, I couldn't get over it. These shoes are UGLY. I can't get inspired by these aerobicized Cindi Lauper oddball colors.

I know this shoe is available in other, more humane colors - just not at Fleet Feet. (Maybe I should lend my services to the Fleet Feet buyer: "Ugly, ugly, ugly, ooh -- that's a nice one, ugly, ugly...") . So now I begin to scour the city for my shoes in other stores. Wish me luck.

Update:

I found my shoes... somewhere else. They are identical to the white-pearly-green-charcoal trimmed shoes I've been running in for most of the summer. I feel at peace with Saucony again, and I hope I can get back in the groove with Fleet Feet soon.

Hey, Paul Mailman!

So I had to work in Montpelier this afternoon, and ended the day with a run through the Capital City. Started downtown at by the movie theater and went out toward the bike path on the river. As I came around the curve of the soccer field, I caught a glimpse of the track and flashed back to the 2008 Paul Mailman 10-miler. (Insert horror film music here.) The track, the bike path, the bored the finishers, the nice old guy in the van looking after me...... oh the memories. I still can't believe I didn't win that jar of BBQ sauce.

On a happier note, I ran 1/2 mile last night in 3:45!!! Seriously, that just happened.

Gurgling, churning guts

It's not pleasant, but there it is: I was brought down by some kind of stomach virus early this week. Conversation with my doctor, roughly transcribed:

Dr. D: "Do you feel nauseous?"
Patti: "Yeah."
Dr. D: "Do you feel like you have a heavy stone sitting in your guts?"
Patti: "Yeah."
Dr. D: "Do you want to fall asleep on the bathmat near the toilet and not be conscious of how rotten you are feeling?"
Patti: "Yeah."
Dr. D: "Yep, that's going around. It'll pass in day or two."

Feeling much better now, thank you very much. Still a little queasy. Who was I bragging to recently that I don't ever have GI issues like most runners do? Jinx.

Roadside sociology: 18 miles in upstate NY

Rugby fans have an annual date on their calendars: the first weekend in August is Can-Ams, the largest rugby tournament in North America, held in Lake Placid and Saranac Lake. Leading up to this weekend I had to balance a fun annual rugby weekend with getting in a quality long run.

The plan was to camp out for the weekend outside of Saranac Lake, sleeping in Rhet's recently acquired, super-awesome, dark green VW bus. The Pickle. And while The Pickle was perfect for sleeping, I wasn't sure if camping in general was a good way to prepare for 18 miles.

Here's how things worked out: We got up wicked early Saturday, took the ferry and hit the road through the rual, forested northern counties of New York. About 18 miles out of Saranac Lake, Rhet dropped me off on Route 3. How's that for ensuring that you will finish your run?

As soon as The Pickle pulled away, I realized my iPod was still in my tote bag. So having no podcasts to pass the time (4 hours), I kept a catalog of roadside observations:

• People in NY give runners less space than people in Vermont. Oddly, in both places, it doesn't seem to matter where the driver is from, they just seem to behave more generously in Vermont.
• New York has less roadkill. They either have better carnage cleanup crews, smarter animals, or fewer animals.
• New Yorkers throw diapers out the window. Seriously, why do this? You can't pin it all on one badly behaved family - I saw many diapers with different designs on them.
• Keystone Light and Busch beer, very popular.
• Exception to the roadkill observation: in one 20-yard stretch I saw a dead rabbit, a squashed turtle, and tiny yellow and black baby bird. Weird.
• Most curious litter: cardboard packaging of nicotine gum. I imagined this driver tearing open the box and tossing it out the window in a fever pitch. Gotta get the gum.
  

I was expecting to hit the town of Vermontville around 5 miles into the run, a good chance for quick pit stop. Apparently it's not a town, but a place with a few houses and one sketchy convenience store. I ran through it before I realized it happened, leaving another 3 miles to go before another bathroom opportunity.

By the time I got to Bloomingdale (9 miles in) I was seriously famished and badly needed to pee. Thank you Bloomin' Market! Usually I don't notice if I'm hungry while running, though I probably am hungry most of the time. This was different. I didn't feel just a small hunger pang, I wanted to eat huge quantities of food. Peanut butter, bananas, crackers, a side of beef.... I blame this on not eating enough for breakfast, and the hills. Oh, the hills. There were many of them, one after another. This is probably why the Saranac Lake rugby team calls itself the Mountaineers. I should have checked the elevation chart for this run.....

After that break, I was back on the road and getting closer and closer to town. Hallelujah! With just the last couple of miles to go, I literally ran into Rhet and most of the Burlington men's rugby town in the center of town. It would have been easy to stop there, but I kept going and finished the run.

And when I finished, I was back in the center of town standing in front of... a day spa. I went inside. I said, "Do you take walk-in massage appointments, and do you have a place where I could shower?" And they said, "Why yes, of course." And I said, "I'm going to get something to eat. Can I come back in a half-hour?" And they said, "You betcha."

So even though rugby was the purpose of being there, I didn't watch my first rugby game of the weekend till 2 o'clock Saturday afternoon. I didn't mind one bit.

Congratualtons to the Burlington men's and women's teams for doing well in the tournament!