A New Blog

This is just a quick post to let everyone who’s still reading know that I’ve been invited to join a new parenting blog called Bottle Fed Parents. I’ll still be posting about running here on Half-Fast, in fact I’m currently working on a post about how horrible teenagers are which might seem like it would belong on a parenting blog but it’s not about my kids it’s about teenagers that I encountered while running so it’s running blog material.

I’ve also been roped in to a 5k by some coworkers so I’ll probably have an update about that sometime after the race is over. Office bragging rights are on the line.

That’s all for a later date though, the purpose of this post is to point you to Bottle Fed Parents where I’ll be joining Nitmos, Razz, and X-Country2 in cautionary tales of parenting.

Family Night at the Track

Yesterday was one of those days when my training schedule clashed with Candis’ training schedule in that we were both scheduled to run. Since we can’t leave our young children alone I naturally assumed that Candis would run on the treadmill so that I could go run outside when I got home from work, but was disappointed to discover that this wasn’t the case at all. Apparently I’m supposed to be willing to make compromises or something but I don’t remember that being part of our agreement. If I hadn’t taped over our wedding ceremony I’d go back and see what we each vowed to do because I’m pretty sure that Candis’ vows had something in there about bowing to my every whim, but Candis doesn’t remember it that way. Selective memory, I guess.

Since we were both planning on doing some intervals we decided to go to the local track and take the kids with us where they could annoy and get in the way of other runners. We packed some snacks for the boys, gave them a stern lecture about staying out of other people’s way and headed to the track. For the most part the boys were content to sit and watch from the bleachers while Dad ran circles around Mom. They ran a few laps with us when we were running cool down laps and David (my 5 year old) even ran a complete lap with me at a 9:45 pace. The rest of their time was spent shouting “go Mom!” or “go Dad!” or “Mom, can I have this Krispie Treat?” They also practiced their long jump, which is good because they totally suck at it.

Good form, poor distance.
All in all it was a fun evening. The boys ran several laps and got a ton of exercise and Candis didn’t have to run on the treadmill. I really wish we’d thought of this earlier in the summer because it would have been a great way for us to spend time together as a family while Candis and I both got some training in, of course now it’s starting to get dark early and it will be harder and harder to squeeze it in. Perhaps next time we’ll bring a happy meal and our portable DVD player with us so the boys don’t get too much exercise and can fit in better with society. I wouldn’t want them to be outcasts.

When we got home for the evening the major downfall of this plan became immediately evident, which is to say, where the hell is my dinner? You see, usually when I run in the evening my dinner is ready and waiting when I get home, but this was not the case on Tuesday. Moreover, Candis had to put the kids to bed and iron my clothes for work the following day and didn’t even get started on making me dinner until after that. I don’t think I’ve ever felt as famished as I did last night, sitting there on the couch playing Mario Kart Wii.

I’m Quiiting Running

It’s time for me to quit running. It’s not that I don’t still love to run because I do, it’s just that I’ve taken up a new pastime that is occupying all my spare time. I am no longer able to make the time to squeeze in any of my training runs and to be honest I don’t miss them at all. Don’t worry, my new hobby is a totally healthy way to replace intervals and long runs, it’s a little something called the Wii:

My brother-in-law gave us a Wii this past weekend. My boys have so much fun playing his Wii that he thought they’d like to have their own. It was a nice idea, but he clearly didn’t realize that they would be unable to wrestle the controls away from their father. After nearly 5 years of parenthood I’m finally starting to reap some benefits from it; the boys have cool toys that I can play with.

So I am sorry to tell you all that I no longer have time to run, what with all the Wii-ing I’ll be doing. I almost missed my long run entirely this past weekend and only managed to squeeze it in on Sunday night when my wife forced me to take a Wii break. But I don’t imagine that I’ll have too many more forced Wii breaks because my wiife is starting to come over to the dark side now too.

Before you know it the dishes will be piled up in the sink, I’ll be a no-show at work and we’ll be ebaying the kids toys to pay for new Wii games and cheap healthcare. We’re fixing to go down hard in our new addiction and Wii don’t even care. Perhaps I’ll take up smoking too while I’m at it, I hear that smoking helps you lose weight.

I’d love to tell you more but it’s my turn at Wii bowling so I gotta’ run, but not in the physical activity sense of the word, more in the screen-gazing, comatose, where-did-the-day-go, forgot-we-had-kids-to-feed sense of the word.

I’ve got a fever and the only prescription for it is more Wii.

Cheer Team Vanilla is Loud

Because I love my readers and everyone seems to enjoy seeing pictures of Cheer Team Vanilla I’m going to attempt to post a video of them at the race this past weekend. Please keep in mind that this was “filmed” on my camera phone so the quality will be worse than the Zapruder film. Also I should warn you that there is cowbell involved and it is quite loud. If you’re at work you might want to turn your speakers down and then write yourself a quick reminder to buy some contraceptives on your way home.



Ta Da!
From my cell phone to your computer. A home video posted here at Half-Fast. Talk about being on the cutting edge of technology! Does any other blog do things that are this advanced? I doubt it.

As you all know from reading yesterday’s post my wife ran a St. Paddy’s Day 5K this past weekend, and as usual our boys were happy to provide a cheering section. We positioned ourselves just past the starting line and the two of them screamed and yelled and rang their cowbells from some time roughly 2 minutes before the race started until every last participant had disappeared around the first turn. I think Mommy was embarrassed to be associated with us but I don’t blame her. At one point I even tried to scoot away from them so that I could look at them disdainfully as if to say “whose kids are those?” but unfortunately they stuck closely by my side.

After the noise had subsided a little I checked my course map to see where we could go and see the runners pass by again. However, since they had moved the starting line (more about that in yesterday’s post) and I have the mental capacity of a 7 year old I was not able to figure out where I was or where the race was going. Fearful of getting lost and ending up alone with two cowbell wielding boys I decided we’d just go wait at the finish. After standing for a couple of minutes at the finish I was sick of being bombarded by questions like “Is Momma coming yet?” “How much longer will it be?” “Can we go home now?” Fortunately there was a park right across the street.

We returned from the park in time to scream some more as Mommy crossed the finish line. On the ride home from the race my wife and I were discussing how this was her least favorite race since there was no post race beer. My youngest son interjected that this was his second favorite race because there was a park to play at. His favorite? “The one where they had pancakes at the finish.” (The Colder Bolder) What can I say, my son likes his pancakes and my wife likes her beer.

A Beautiful Day for a Run

Yesterday was a beautiful day here in Denver. We had blue skies, warm temperatures, an extra hour of daylight and a general feeling of goodwill towards all mankind. (We’re good people here in Denver.) As I drove home from work I saw runners out on the trails, I saw cyclists, I even saw several couples walking their dogs. It was almost as if everything was working together in perfect harmony to make me go run. By the time I got home I was more excited than I’ve ever been to go out and run. In fact I think it’s safe to say that I was bubbling over with more anticipation than a pimple-faced 13 year old who has just stolen his first Playboy.

I arrived home to a family that was happy to see me. “I’m so glad you’re home,” said my wife as she briskly walked past me and out the door I’d just come in.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“I’m going running,” she said and then she threw one more comment over her shoulder as she headed out for her run. “The kids are in the backyard. Good luck!”

And then she was gone. I stood there all alone wondering what had just happened. My wife is a runner so it is no surprise that she went running, but something felt different. It quickly became clear that she was using running as an excuse to get away from the kids. It was evident that she just wanted to have them out of her hair for an hour or two. I have to admit that I was a little disappointed. Using running as an excuse to get away from your two crazy little boys is shameful and selfish, and quite frankly I called dibs on it. Seriously, that’s my racket. What’s next? Is she going to start peeing in the shower? Is she going to start monopolizing the remote? Is she going to start pretending that she doesn’t know how to load the dishwasher to get out of doing it? Is nothing sacred anymore?

Despite my world being turned upside down, I was still excited to run. I changed into my running clothes and couldn’t contain myself any longer, I needed to run. So, with my wife out running and my boys ricocheting around the backyard, I decided to go run a few warm up miles on the treadmill. After a couple of miles my 4 year old came down to the basement and I was certain that he was about to tell me that Mom was home.
“Dad, can we turn on the hose?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Same reason they don’t give guns to monkeys.”

Typically, I would have told him “because I said so,” but it’s not like he pays attention to me anyway so I occasionally throw out a confusing answer just for fun. He left and I continued my run on the treadmill, all the while wondering if the hose was being used. ‘A few warm up miles’ quickly turned into a few intervals and before I knew it I had completed my entire workout on the treadmill. Good thing it was such a beautiful day outside. When my wife returned home I went outside and ran a cool down mile, mostly because it seemed like a waste not to. For those of you who are wondering, the hose did not get used.

A New Toy, Almost

After work on Tuesday night I went out with my family to purchase a Garmin Forerunner because quite frankly, I deserve one. I have been contemplating buying one for some time now and I received a gift card to Road Runner Sports for my birthday so I planned on using that to pay for the new toy.

There are very few things in this universe that I don’t understand, but among them are the following: Why Monday Night Football hates my eardrums (see commentators Tony Kornheiser, Joe Theismann, Dennis Miller, etc.) Why people are paying upwards of $2,000 for tickets to see Hannah Montana. Why anyone feels that it’s OK to converse with me while we stand exposed at the urinals. And finally, why my kids lose all perspective of what constitutes socially acceptable behavior the instant we enter any sporting goods store. It figures that the one store that I don’t mind going shopping in is the one store where my kids become devil-children, or los niños del Diablo for those of you south of the border.

Tuesday night was no different. The over-eager sales associate came over to offer us assistance and while I was explaining what I was looking for, my oldest son was tugging on my hand demanding I remove his coat. The sales associate, whose name was Tom, glanced nervously at my kids and then back at me as if to say ‘I really don’t like kids very much.’ I hate it when people act like this when I’m with my kids. ‘Hey Tom, guess what? I don’t like them very much either but at least I possess the decorum to not show it in front of them!’

Tom quickly shows me to the Garmins and then leaves just as quickly. In what would turn out to be a horrendous mistake I remove the 4-year-old’s jacket which leads to me also removing the 2-year-old’s jacket, and I turn my attention to the Garmins. Not thirty seconds later a fight breaks out in women’s apparel in which jackets are being used like nunchucks. My wife and I separate the pair and she ties their jackets around their waists after declining my more radical idea of tying them around their necks.

I go back to looking at Garmins, debating if I want the one with the heart rate monitor or the cheaper one without the heart rate monitor. Cheaper wins out and I try it on to see how it feels. Somewhere on the other side of the store a jacket takes flight. I'm guessing by the size of it that it wasn't the sales associate’s jacket and I can tell from the trajectory that it was launched from somewhere around 2 feet above ground level.

My wife and I decide to divide and conquer. I take the youngest boy to one side of the store and she takes the oldest to the other side. This is a great strategy if you can put up with the downside: Going out with your wife and not ever seeing her because you’re afraid of the consequences of uniting the Gatekeeper and the Keymaster. This is also why I won’t be having any more children. We currently have two, which means that we can still play man to man defense against them. When the third child arrives you have to switch to zone defense and it’s just not as effective.

Having settled things down, and after re-hanging countless shirts, shorts and socks back on the rack I headed to the cash register with my new Garmin. Well worth the hassle we’d endured. Unfortunately the gift card didn’t work, and Tom would have to... blah, blah, blah, -long list of excuses that don’t make any sense to me-... and long story short, I’ll have to order it online. This means that our pilgrimage to the running store was completely futile other than to raise my blood pressure a few degrees and cause me to sound like my father. “Don’t touch that!” “Put that back!” “Stop playing with that!” “No yelling!” “No running!”

Running Dad

Last night my wife had to go run some errands which meant that I was watching the boys and could not go outside for my run. I tried telling her that the oldest one is capable of babysitting, but she insists that he's too young (he's 4). Whatever. I ended up getting on the treadmill and telling David (my 4 year-old) to keep an eye on Graham (my 2 year-old) so it all works out the same either way.

I recalled reading somewhere that it is easier to run on a treadmill (no hills, no wind resistance etc.) and that you should set the incline to 1% to simulate running outdoors. I decided to give this a try, but my ego got the best of me and I turned it up to 2%. It didn’t feel like too much of a difference so I kept plugging along. Somewhere around 0.21 miles I heard Graham crying, and not wanting to lose my rhythm or start over I yelled for David to come tell me what had happened. As it turns out "nothing" had happened. I guess he was just screaming bloody murder for the fun of it, I made a quick mental note to discipline him for that after my run.

If you know any 2 or 4 year old boys you know that they're all afterburner and no rudder, so it was only a matter of minutes before there was more yelling and loud banging. Not being someone prone to worry, I quickly came up with a solution. I grabbed the remote control for the iPod speakers and turned up the volume until I could no longer hear said yelling and banging. I enjoyed the remainder of my run in the peace and quiet of my eclectic 'running' playlist consisting of heavy metal, hip-hop and alternative.

Towards the end of my run I began to feel a little discouraged, this was supposed to be an easy run at a 9:30 minute mile pace and I was really struggling. My breathing was harder than usual, my calves were burning more than usual and I was seriously considering slowing down. What on earth was wrong with me? It was during this conundrum that I remembered that I had been running up hill the whole way. I completely forgot that I had set the incline to 2%. What can I say? I'm a genius.

As I was finishing up both of the boys came down to the basement. Both a little sweaty but, no blood and no new bruises. They were exhausted from whatever they had been doing upstairs and quietly sat down at their coloring table. It was at this moment that my wife came home, took one look at our quiet children and me finishing up my run and exclaimed “how did you get them to behave so well?” I merely shrugged. She continued “they NEVER let me run on the treadmill without interruption!” I smiled at her. Some of us are just good parents I guess, and by ‘some of us’ I am of course referring to my wife.