Thursday, September 2, 2010

Three Bridges Five-Miler

And so but so okay so it's been a while since I've done anything running-related so here are my August numbers and a race report and the Cruise Vacation Ladder of Hope post will just have to wait:

August Numbers

Running 106.27 miles
Walking: 25.4 miles

Three Bridges Five-Miler Race Report

There's a little town not 5 miles from where we live whose defining characteristic is the fact that it has  —  no, not so few as two; nor so many as four — but exactly THREE Bridges in it and on Saturday, August 21, they had their annual 5-mile race. Or so the fuckers call it; you go in there — inside the Municipal Building, that is, where registration and bib- and t-shirt-pick-up was — and look at the map of the course and it sez right on the map "5.05 miles"; and I'm all outraged, screaming: "Five point OH FIVE!??1!? This is NOT what I signed up for!1! I did NOT agree to this!1! Bait-and-switch! BAIT-AND-FUCKING-SWITCH!1!"

But I decided to run it anyway because, unlike the group Erasure, I, for one, am not a pussy.

The course of this (so-called) five-miler was along the picturesque roads of Three Bridges1. The race either benefited or was sponsored by the local volunteer fire company — possibly both sponsored by and benefiting2.  Of course, the picturesqueness of the course was pretty much totally vitiated by the hills, which one of the Fire Dudes who ran the race mentioned in his speech before the race, only because he was saying, "If you have any suggestions as to how we can make this race better next year, please let us know. And remember: We can't do anything about the hills." At which everyone was genuinely all Hahaha! Good One! Until we hit the actual fucking hills. 

At which point I, for one, was all like: You think this is FUNNY, you Pissant Fire Dude? This is a JOKE to you?1!?!? Well, you're a JERK! See if I ever call YOU if my house catches on fire!1!

But ... not to get all ahead of myself here but ... there really was no way this could have been a better race. Because before it even started, the fire dude who ran it said, all casual-like, "And of course after the race, there'll be water and  Gatorade and beer ..."

And after the race, I said to Martin3, "Did that fire dude say free beer in his opening speech?"

And Martin sez: "It's a race sponsored by firemen. What are the chances there'd be free beer.[<-- Yeah, a period. Because it wasn't a question.]"

A reasonable enough observation.

And I'm still ahead of myself here, having not yet talked about the actual race, but I am seriously thinking of retiring from racing because for the longest time I would read others' race reports and see mentions of free beer and I'd think, Where's Glaven's free beer?

Because no one in the world, not even Sarah (D-MI), loves beer more than I do but I had never been in a race that offered free beer before this. And so to me, this was like the beer-related equivalent of that time when I seriously considered retiring (for real) from blogging because I had managed to get not just the first but also the second and the third comment on one of Teh Marcy's posts before anyone else got even one and I thought Well, any other blogging highpoint after this will just be anticlimactic. Because I had just climaxed three times all over Teh Marcy4...

But never fear. I will race again, because if I didn't, I wouldn't be able to run this race next year and get more free beer.

And it turned out the beer was Coors Light (yuck) and Yuengling. Now, Coors Light is basically piss (and also Hitler's favorite beer — just sayin'), but Yuengling ...

Now, Yuengling has kinda a bad rep where I come from —which is Philadelphia — mostly because it is brewed in Philadelphia (or close by) and therefore was considered a sub-standard, piss-beer, because beers, like prophets, are always reviled in their own countries. And when I was growing up, Mr. Kumor, who was a lawyer and the father of my and Teh 'Bro's best friends, always had cases of Yuengling in his basement and when we asked the Kumor boys why their Dad drank that they said, "Because you can get a case of it for what a six-pack of any other beer costs."

And Mr. Kumor died of a heart attack in his forties — which at the time I considered to be really old — and everyone was sure his drinking Yuengling was a contributing, if not causative, factor.

But Yuengling actually makes a pretty good lager (which is what they had at the firehouse) and an even better Black and Tan.

And so post-race, at like 10 in the morning, I drank a TON of Yuengling lager and got nicely buzzed and it was on tap and let me tell you, when volunteer fireman pour you a beer at 10 a.m., they make sure they minimize the foam and fill those 16-oz red plastic cups all the way up. And they have their own fucking taps in the firehouse (actually, the muni building, but the firehouse is just downstairs), and for the first time in my life I gave serious thought to becoming a volunteer fireman. As my way of, y' know, giving back to the community.

Of course, my "give-backs" would mostly be in the form of beer-guzzling-inspired urine, but it's the thought that counts.

Because we're in the middle of a drought here in NJ, but these guys, these fireman heroes? Even if we ran totally out of water and your house caught fire? They'd be able to put the fire out with beer-urine any time of the day or night! Now that is dedication! And that burnt-wood-and-urine-smell your house would then have?

That's exactly the smell that you never get when you go on a cruise ship, despite all the urine.

Which is also kinda amazing.

But anyroad, the race itself ...

Yeah, so I found out Martin was at this race when, at around the 1-mile mark, he sidles up behind me and, evidently noticing I'm listing to my iPod, sez, "Hope you're listening to some good music."

And I turn and he's next to me by now and I see it's him and I say, "Right now? The Beau Brummels. 'Laugh Laugh'."

And he sez, "You're dating yourself."

And I'm thinking, Well that's kinda an inappropriate remark, especially since I didn't even masturbate5 this morning ...

And then I realized he meant "date yourself" in that other sense, because my music was from the sixties, and I said, "Well, it's what I grew up with ..."

And then of course Martin continued on ahead and beat me by like 3 minutes even though he's like three years older than I, the fucking speedy geezer.

And there are actually quite a few pix of this race up on the fire station's web site and I was going to post a few because the contrast between what my face looks like at the start of a race and at the end is pretty hysterically funny because my face becomes one big grimace. But I've been posting too many pix of my mug lately and didn't want to scare any of my 7 remaining readers away.

And it's a shame because the last photo of me, which is juuuuuust before I cross the finish, clearly shows I am no more than 12 inches from the finish line and you can see the time clock, which sez "42:44" ... but my official time was 42:46.4 — which means it took me approximately 2.4 seconds to travel one foot.

And there's a near Zeno's Arrow-level time-and-space-warping paradoxicality to this, because if I was running the race at 2.4 seconds per foot, I should probably still be running today and it's entirely possible I'll never get to that finish line.

But in the real world, I know I somehow did.

Because I was 45th out of 90 runners and my pace was 8:33.

Did that just blow your mind?
1 And Three Bridges really is a picturesque town. Back in 1992, when Teh 'Bride and I were essentially still newlyweds, Teh 'B. took it upon herself to find us an actual house to live in, and over the course of about 5 or so months, she and our real estate agent looked at over 80 houses, of which Teh 'Bride deemed exactly four worth bothering me with; and of those four, two were in Three Bridges because we both thought it was such a quaint little town. I don't know if we actually put a bid in on either of those two houses, but we may have. We have no regrets about not getting a house in 3B because we love our home.

But the point is that Three Bridges is a really quaint town.

2 Seriously, who pays attention to these things? Do you even know who the sponsors listed on the back of your race T-shirts are? Probably not. Little known fact: If you've run 5+ races, there's a 99.43 percent chance that at least ONE of your Tees is from a race sponsored in part by either NAMBLA or The Libertarian Party.

Creepy, huh? UGH! Libertarians ... *SHUDDER!!*

3 My ex-boss from like 20 years ago when I worked for a book jobber, whom I seem to run into all the time now at various races, the last one being the Revolutionary Run at Washington Crossing on July 4.

4 ...'s blog. Which is essentially the same thing. Or at least, that's what I tell my buddies at the bar. "Three times?" they ask. "Yep." "In a row?" "Uh-huh." "On Teh Marcy?" "Yeah - her blog. Comments on her blog." "O, now it all comes out -"

"IT'S THE SAME FUCKING THING!1!" I then insist.

Because, in the blogosphere, it is. Those bar douches just don't get that.

 5 ... much.

Because, okay, maybe I did, but hear me out on this. I know I'm not much of a looker, and believe me, I'm not very talented in the ways of the man-geisha — I basically just lie there like a dead fish, which is not very sexy or arousing — but the only reason I, ahem, continue to "date myself" is that I unfailingly put out, even on the first date.

I'm kinda a whoo-wer that way.


  1. Prostitution whooo ha! (RHONJ reference, sorry)

    Coors Light is without a doubt the worst beer, dare I say, beverage on the planet. And I love beer, but I swear, I would eat kale chips before I drank Coors Light. Not kidding.

    I'm a fan of running races that feature free beer, the problem is that I'm so #$%^% slow that by the time I finish the race, all the free beer is gone :(

    And if you want to read a funny post about racing and drinking beer, check this out:

  2. @ Cavewoman B'Ogg -

    I must applaud any blog post that, regardless of the context, includes the parenthetical exhortation:

    (go cocks!)

    You just don't see that enough in blog posts.

  3. I can't make any rational comment until the overwhelming emotion of not having been able to get a Yuengling (Celebrated Pottsville) Porter in 15 years and you drinking the piss-poor lager instead when you had the chance - though, if you had a true black and tan, you at least had half a good brew - um, let's see, grammatically this sentence has to end like, er... is over.

  4. RE: your comment on Life after 40 about FB...I think if you were on FB the universe would implode...of course I suppose you could plant two seeds and harvest two FB for GQH and the other for your "other" persona....

  5. p.s. ...way to get the lead out on the 5 miler...

  6. What is that whizzing sound? Is it G's beer-guzzling induced urine dousing a fire in "Who gives a fuck how many?" Bridges?

    Nope, it is the continued downward spiral of RBR's self esteem.

    1. You ran twice as much as me in August.

    2. I have never held a sub-nine minute mile for more than... ummm.. 3 tenths of a mile, yet you did it AGAIN for a 5 miler with hills (although they were "jersey hills", i.e. not 'real' hills) Now I have to congratulate you on a great race. Hang on, let me choke back this jealousy induced bile first.

    Here it goes, don't blink it will be fast (that is what he said...): Nice job, G! Great race!!! You rock!!!!!!!

    [rant list continues]

    3. You AND SQ have both attacked the Adipose Endowed population in recent blog posts which I, and my adipose laden derriere, take personal offense to.

    4. I have no idea what a "Black and Tan" is except for the adorable floppy eared coonhound breed, and if you are "drinking" those you are more of a perv than even I gave you credit for.

    5. Jenny Craig is a vindictive, spiteful bitch that apparently thinks I do not need to eat pieces of cake the size of my head. I mean, really? What is the point to living without cake the size of your head? Helmet haired bitch.

    6. You mentioned the existence of a "fucking fritter" in your last post which honestly, sounds like the perfect partner to me. However, try as I might, I have yet to find a vanilla covered, banana fritter that will provide such service for me. I am apparently very unfuckable in the fritter world.

    and, for the record, NO! I am NOT PMS'ing!! And you are an asshole for asking! You too, judgey reader! I can feel your judgment! Screw you all!

    Where is the cookie dough?

  7. @ RBR -

    Is it just me? Or does it smell like bitchy girl in here?

  8. ... adding ...

    I'm referring, above, to SteveQ's comment.

  9. The Beau Brummels!?! How come I'm not listening to them?

    Thanks for the pointer.

    I think you only get free beer at odd distance races - for example, I ran a 4 miler recently and free beer was all over the place, but when doing a half marathon, you get one measly drink ticket.

  10. @RBR: (beergoggling) though I loves me some coonhound (prefer blue tick to black and tan, as they angry up the varmints some), in beer world it's possible to layer a nitrogen injected beer (such as Guinness Stout) over a carbon-dioxide filled, giving a black layer and a tan one.

    Like peroxide and six weeks growth on hair.

    The fact that the guy knew who the Beau Brummels were dates HIM. Recently, Rolling Stone Magazine ranked the top 100 Beatles tunes (leaving the other 116-119 staring at their shoes next to the punchbowl). A morning tv show had the hosts naming their faves. The new girl, about 25 years old, said, "Um... Imagine... is that Beatles?..."

  11. Oh, which reminds me. A morning TV show producer was telling me a story of how they were trying to come up with stories for sweeps. To get all of their main demographic, they wanted a story of a woman overcoming adversity, getting something for free, exotic location and a medical story. Then they decided, if they really want numbers, they also need to get guys' attention... but what do guys like? One made a suggestion which got him fired. Here it is (not totally suitable for work or children):

  12. I may not love beer as much as you (which I find to be a spurious statement!) but I bet I can love more beer than you. A six-pack in an evening? No problem! Quantity beats quality every time.

    I run and drink beer in a quasi-organized fashion almost every week. It's called hashing. You should look into it. The only problem is, we drink terrible beer on trail. My penchant for turning my nose up at on-trail beer as well as buying my own (better) pints at the bar afterward has earned me a reputation in my hash kennel as an incurable beer snob.

    I wrote about hashing at length in my most recent post (including an ill-advised beer mile). I also mentioned you by name. You should take a gander.

  13. Damn, G. You've always been hilarious, but now you're actually FAST, too. Stop it, already. You're fucking with my self-esteem.

    Beer sucks, even harder and with more vigor than your typical $2 whoo-er. I'm a Red Cat fan myself, so everytime I run the Boilermaker I'm forced to contend with drunken hooligans who are all messed up on Saranac, whilst there is ZERO Red Cat to be had. It's a problem. And did I mention that as a young child my family actually VACATIONED at the freakin' BREWERY where the Boilermaker post-race party occurs?!? Yeah, 'cause that's a nice wholesome family activity right there. My parents loved it because it was a free tour and less than two hours away. I'm supposed to say that I fondly remember the trolley ride and the big frosty mugs of root beer, but all I REALLY remember is my Dad getting falling down drunk on Utica Club while my Mom looked pained. The good ol' days!

  14. I've been into Yards Brawler lately. Goes good with whatever I make for dinner. Or maybe it's the other way around.

    PUHLEEZE. Marcy's post was at some ungodly hour of 5am or something, & while the rest of the blogosphere was either asleep or running, you managed to get your 3 comments in at 5:01. PLUS, I'm going to guess that she was feeling sorry for you & somehow gave you the heads up that she was about the post so you could get a head start.

    Yeah, I said it.

    And FINALLY, 3B may be quaint, but you've got some speedy mofo's there. You ran a damn nice 8:33 pace for five fucking miles and STILL placed smack dab in the middle?


  15. Tag, youre it! It's just because I love you SOOOO much buddy!

  16. I'm not really sure what made me laugh harder? Your post or the comments that followed!
    Nice frickin' month of running. Holy crap, I'm impressed for a dirty old man who listens to '60's music. **for the record, 70's music is WAY better!
    Nice job on the 3B's-awesome speed you got there, I just wonder, do you do everything fast?!