PDX in Pics: Day 3

After two days packed with physical exertion in the form of running and hiking, day 3 in PDX was a chance to dedicated ourselves more thoroughly to other pursuits. Such as beer and doughnuts.




Liz and I woke up early to beat the crowd at Voodoo Doughnuts. At 9:00am, the line was already about 15 minutes long. By the time we'd finished our doughnuts, the wait was more than twice that.



We got one glazed and one Voodoo Doughnut. We didn't purchase that bite of sausage pictured on the corner of the picnic table - it was a freebie!



Following donuts and brunch (which were in fact two distinct meals), it was time for a little beer tasting. We snagged a few more 22oz bottles of local brew from the grocery store and got down to business.



But after those were gone, we moved on to the Bridgeport Brewery (and then Deschutes Brewery...), where we continued our highly scientific study. Here, Liz assists Scott* in assessing the aroma of the Bridgeport Blue Heron Pale Ale. According to his Rate That Beer form, it smelled like a skunk and sweaty underpants.

JetBlue has already invited me via email to check in for my flight tonight, but since I'm taking the red eye, we've got a full day ahead of us. It will begin with a run, in an attempt to counterbalance the doughnuts and beers...

*Liz told me I could post this picture of you online, Scott. Which is weird, because after my legions of adoring fans see it, they're all going to be clamoring to steal you away from her...

Happy Summer!

Memorial Day Weekend!  Hooray!  Here's to flip flop season!

In 2013....


The black one is bad enough, but you seriously don't want to know what's under that blue Bandaid.  It's like Lord Voldemort's face. 

PDX in Pics: Day 2

Saturday in Portland left me ready to move here. Liz and Scott, surprise! My wedding gift to you is going to be rent, since I'll be your boarder. Anyway, yesterday my sister and I went for a run along the Willamette River to the Farmer's Market on the Portland State campus, where we ate our way through a pint of strawberries while browsing the stalls. We grabbed some egg crepes for breakfast (organic and local, obvs) and composted our refuse before walking back to her apartment to get ready for a trip to Mt. Hood.



Picking up our day pass at the Ranger Station.



Conditions on the trails. Remember that time it snowed once in NYC this year?



We had a snowball fight on our hike to Mirror Lake.




Chili in a bread bowl, with a beer, at the Timberline Lodge. If you asked me to name my ideal lunch components, these are they. (Beer was Mt. Hood Cloud Cap Amber Ale)


We picked up a few more 22 oz bottles of local beer to try. This Hop Henge is Deschutes' experimental IPA, and I expected it to be really heavily hopped. It was actually quite drinkable. Very citrusy hops aroma, but with a pretty strong malt flavor to balance it out. The Deschutes Brewery is a block from Liz and Scott's apartment, so I'll have much more to say on their beers later...

PDX in Pics

Day one Portland consisted of breakfast of (nitrate-free) bacon and (Stumptown) coffee, a couple hours of hiking in Washington Park, a grilled cheese from a food truck made my a man with a beard, and some delicious PNW beers. And a double rainbow. Best day ever!


View of Downtown Portland from Pittock Mansion. Also, view of myself with hair that hadn't been washed in 2 days.


Redwoods and Giant Sequoias in Washington Park. I love things that are taller than me.


Mount Saint Helen's is back there. Somewhere.


"Here in the Willamette Valley, summer is short. So take heed. Waste not a single summer day nor your money running the dryer. Instead hang your clothes and drink a beer in the sun. Relax and enjoy."

Decision Time

First, thanks to everyone for your fall marathon suggestions!

Well, not everyone.  Some of you made stupid suggestions, and demonstrated a total lack of reading comprehension.  You might as well have skipped the blog post altogether and just written "FIRST!!!!1!" in the comment box.

But mostly you made good suggestions, and in the end, it was thanks to them that I ended up registering for number 14: The Rehoboth Beach Marathon on December 8th.

A couple of factors ultimately contributed to my selecting Rehoboth as my A race this fall (my inability to get the spelling of Rehoboth right on the first try was not one of them):

- Date.  This was the most crucial factor, and while a late season race dramatically increases the risk of training burnout, it also dramatically increases the amount of fun I'll be able to have at the six weddings I'm attending between now and then.  I was, at first, nervous to commit to a seaside marathon in a season not known for its beach weather.  Having once spectated the Gansett Marathon in April, I was very nearly turned into a popsicle and blown into the Atlantic Ocean. But race reports out of Rehoboth seem to indicate temps in the 40s and 50s, and none mentioned "insane, blustery winds and seaspray that threatens to turn this event into a swim-and-run duathlon."  And frankly, I've now had two consecutive A races be interrupted by less-than-ideal weather, so I feel like my luck has to turn around at some point. 

Weather concerns aside, a late season marathon means that I'll be able to complete my training without disrupting the lives of everyone I know who is getting married this summer and fall.  I don't have to start training until August 20th.  That means no "sorry, I can't drink at your bachelorette party; I need to wake up early to run." Not that I'm a stranger to extremely hungover bachelorette party weekend runs:



Yes I am giving the finger. I think I had just dry heaved.  And Nina had just drunk-driven a bicycle into me.

 So anyway, now I can and will get drunk all summer long!  That's what they mean when they talk about the sanctity of marriage, right?

- The state of Delaware.  I actually have no drive whatsoever to run a marathon in every state.  But I've never run in Delaware before (I'm not confident I've ever been to Delaware before), so I am excited to try something new.  California International Marathon was a top contender, as it also met the early December/late season criteria, but I've already run two marathons in California.  Plus, Delaware is a lot easier to get to than California.

- The Dogfish Head Brewery.  Because there's no better time to drink an 18% ABV beer than immediately after racing 26.2 miles.  Except possibly immediately before racing 26.2 miles...

So there you have it.  Here's hoping December 7, 2012 is the last time I'll be a 3:24 marathoner.  Sub 3:20 or bust!

Man Needed

Don't worry; this isn't that post (though aren't they all that post?  Call me, maybe?).  I need a man shorter than 5'6" or taller than 6'4" to join me for the next installment of the New York Rogue Runners' race series: the NYC Tri-Legathon.


This race shall be a co-ed, height-disparate, three-legged race.  Participating teams will be of different genders, not dating, married, or in another type of romantic partnership, and the difference in their heights shall be at least 5 inches.  At nearly 5'11" barefoot, this puts me in a bit of a predicament.

For illustrative purposes, that's me in the purple dress, with my mom (and my sister).  I'm the only one wearing flats.   That I was born of something so small reinforces the "miracle" part of "the miracle of life."


The other dilemma associated with this race is that I don't have the best track record with the New York  Rogue Runners.  In my first race, I came in second to last.  In my second race, I took a DNF.  So it's rather important to me that I do well in my third race, lest it be my last.  So really, I'm looking for a small or tall man who is a fast runner.  No pressure.


Do you fit this mold mould (had no idea that was the correct spelling)?  Are you available on Thursday, June 7th at 7:15pm?  Please email me at willrunforbeerblog at gmail.com.


Update: the post-race party is at PJ Clarke's?!  Who planned this shit?  You people are so insensitive to my racing needs.  I'm going there first and finding myself a small Suit to race with.  And a tall one to take home.

You Think The Children Are Bad?

Park Slope get a bad rap for being a neighborhood full of entitled children.  And their parents.  And while there are a great many children here, which can pose a problem on a hungover Sunday when all I want is to get from my apartment to La Bagel Delight without being run over by a Razor scooter or hear the piercing shrieks of 8 year olds (how dare they have fun?!), generally speaking, the kids are all right.  The parents are indeed entitled, but that's a story for another day (or read this, which is hilarious and also not intentional satire, believe it or not...).  But no one ever talks about the dogs of Park Slope.


Being that this is a neighbor that is home to Brooklyn's largest park, there are a lot of dogs in Park Slope.  Not just in Prospect Park, but in restaurants and bars and coffee shops.  Dogs pretty much have free reign in Park Slope, which is okay by me, because I like them.  But not enough to kiss one (take me to dinner first).  Unfortunately, I was confronted with just such a prospect this morning.  


I set out for a 10+ miler this morning - my longest run since the 50k last month.  Though not hot out, it was one of the first humid days of the year.  The kind of day that reminds you why you actually sort of hate New York in the summer and in mere weeks you'll be forced to change your clothes when you get to work because you've sweat through your commuting attire and that next year, seriously, you're getting a share in Montauk.  I headed out the door without any aid, figuring I'd take advantage of the water fountains in the Park, now that they're finally turned on.  


My workout was as follows: 1 mi w/u, 5x1 mile @GMP (fun fact: no idea when or where my next marathon will be, so the whole concept of "goal marathon pace" is a fluid one...), 4x1 mi easy effort, and whatever was left between me and my apartment at that point as cool down. I tackled the GMP miles solidly, bringing my pace down from 7:45 to 7:28 over 5 miles, but I was beat by the time they were done; I could definitely tell I hadn't had a hard workout in awhile.  I knocked out the first easy effort mile or two and was still feeling pretty worn out, so I sought out a water fountain, hoping a little hydration would perk me back up.  I spied one about 50 yards ahead and started aiming for it.  At the same time, an older man carrying a small and very hairy dog approached it from the other side.  He saw me and smiled and then bent down to get a drink.  Seeing him hold down the button and eject a stream of water almost made me lick my lips, I was so thirsty.


And then, he held his small and very hairy dog down to the tap, where it proceeded to lick and slurp directly from the spigot.


I'm pretty sure I'm suffering from severe dehydration right now.  On the plus side, I don't have any hair balls.