So, despite growing belief to the contrary, I am still a noob. On Friday I decided I was going to put in one hell of a run. I blew out of work, got dressed, and got out the door. It was a gorgeous night for early December in Kansas. Down the road, up the road, over the Buick sized cracks in the sidewalk. Before I knew it I had gone an hour and 16 minutes and almost 9.5 miles. Records for me, suffice it to say I was feeling pretty good about myself. Much like this picture, only, it was dark, there are no mountains in Kansas, I was too tired to raise my arms, and I was fairly certain some sort of ninja mercenary outfit was chasing me (not really but I thought the picture was hilarious and needed to be shared).
I know what you are thinking, that doesn't sound very noobish at all, what the hell? Well, let me explain. I had been invited to run with the Sunflower Striders on Sunday. This was to be my first time running with a group. I was excited for the opportunity, but also both intimidated and nervous. So I get out there and meet the group, very nice people if not a bit to a lot older than I am. I find my man and he gives me some intros and a brief overview of what is going on. "We are going on an easy run today" he says. "Just a little 6 mile morning roll. By the way, what kind of pace do you run at?" He asked me as everyone was getting all stretched out and warmed up. "Well" I replied, "I try and stay under 8 minutes per mile". "Great! You will do just fine, we should be going about 8:15 per mile".
Whaaaaaaaaaaaa?!?!?! That's easy? Well, in the words of the old knight dude in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, "He chose, poorly". Yes, good knight, yes I did. I was stil a little worn out from Friday and Saturday, but I did manage to keep up. They drug me all over west Topeka. I was huffing and puffing and these guys were just breezing along. I am speaking in one word sentences and sweating like I was a snowman melting, these guys, still, running like they were just walking to the coffee pot after waking up. I am both impressed and hurting from my above rocky-esque display of pride in my abilities. Humbled, some would say. So eventually we cruise around and end back where we started, all the while talking about running marathons, and running marathons faster, and runnign speed intervals in the 15 degree mornings. Yes, these guys are good. In the end, it was a good experience, I need something to make me work a little harder and go a little further. They will probably give me some good tips that a noob such as myself wouldn't have known otherwise. So, that's good right?
So there were non-running activities this weekend as well. Old friends made their way back to Allen Fieldhouse. Colorado, and ex KU player now coach Tad Boyle came out to Lawrence, and there was much handshaking and sweet words about missing each other's company. Things were just swell until about, oh, 5 seconds after tip off. Things escalated quickly, and I am pretty sure Travis Releford killed somebody with a trident (See evidence: Exhibit A). May want to lay low for a while Mr. Releford. It was good to see a good ol fashioned Big 12 style throttling of our old friends, please come back anytime. Also, Saturday was an Alonso poor man cooking extravaganza. First it was spaghetti with some Mrs. Renfro's Ghost Pepper Salsa mixed in for some flavor, delicious. But that wasn't it, oh no, that evening it was Chili with, yes, that's right, lots of Mrs. Renfro's Ghost Pepper Salsa mixed in. Thank's for the jar mom, you chose, wisely.
So I was going to put in some hilarious Halo hijinx here (alliteration, my 5th grade english teacher would be so proud), but I think we have decided to do a running commentary of a Halo session instead. Mostly because by this point you have left to look at cute kitties doing murderously cute things, or maybe murderous kitties doing cutely murderous things, I don't know. So stay tuned, cause it will involve me dying a lot, and Tom yelling things that are only mildly comprehensible, and a tank.