The Adventures of Cowboy Hazel

 Well, all of the time that I had planned on spending writing something up here (and quite a bit more, actually) was instead spent upgrading to the newest version of WordPress and moving the blog to this new address. The upgrade to new WP was in hopes that the new spam filters would be better — I’ve been getting overwhelmed with ridiculous spam comments on both my blogs lately. (But, thanks for telling me “Nice post,” Mr. Penis Enhancing Pills Cheap. I appreciate your support.) Only, the upgrade didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped. I had customized the old installation quite a bit and all these functions, classes, etc. suddenly stopped working. I think I got everything back to normal, but if you notice anything weird, let me know. The move (from rambles.cowboyhazel.com to www.cowboyhazel.com/blog) is just part of an ongoing attempt to move away from subdomains for SEO reasons. I moved my photos tonight as well and all the mod_rewrite there got funky so I spent like an hour fixing that too. So, now, three hours later, there is hardly any noticeable difference to my site and I feel like I wasted a perfectly good evening. Eh…

But, before I started that nonsense, I headed down to Nike on 57th Street to pick up some socks and ended up getting a bunch of running gear — two hats, another pair of gloves, a pair of tights (yes, I caved in), and a pair of running pants that looked too short, but that the guy convinced me would be long enough. Sure enough, when I got home and tried them, they were too short. So, I’ll have to run back down there sometime next week and swap them for something else. Maybe more tights — we’ll see how the other pair works.

I also stopped by the wine store and picked up a few bottles including a 2007 Malbec. 2007! Don’t know why, but that really freaked me out. Hard to believe that 2009’s right around the corner. Where the hell is my jet pack and flying car?

I’m taking an unscheduled day off tomorrow to let my legs rest up before Saturday’s 22 miler. So, I finished the month with 181.6 miles — another personal best. I feel like I picked up a lot of confidence this month too. The two 20 milers going so smoothly was a big part of that. But, even bigger was the fact that I ran two 13 milers in sub-7 minute miles. Finally, as weird as it sounds, I got a big boost from being still being able to run well while fighting off this respiratory illness. I was just so scared before that a repeat of 2001 was going to happen, but after Staten Island, I know that I don’t have to worry about that anymore. No matter what bug attacks me, I am going to wake up on November 23rd and finish the 26.2 strong.

I was going to write a bit about the New York City Marathon and my spectator plans, but that will have to wait for another day. I’m exhausted and I need to get the hell away from this computer.

Well, Game 5 of the World Series is in a rain delay, and the Colts vs. Titans game just isn’t capturing my attention, so I decided to take a minute and jot down a couple thoughts here. First off, about the rain delay — I just learned from our dear friend Joe Buck that, if the game hadn’t been tied, it could have actually been called as an official game because of the elements. Meaning, if they had decided to roll out the tarps a half hour earlier (before the Rays scored that second run to tie it in the bottom of the sixth), the Phillies could have conceivably won the World Series without ever finishing the game. What the fuck? Really? That’s retarded. Who the hell came up with that rule? I want to see the Phillies win this thing as much as anyone (after all, they will probably be my home town team soon), but not because of a rain delay. If they had called the game, that would completely rob the winning team of the moment of victory. Not to mention how that would leave the losers feeling… And the fans… Well, thank God it didn’t happen tonight (now the game would be suspended until tomorrow if they can’t resume tonight since it’s tied), but somebody really needs to get this crazy rule fixed.

Anyway, despite what you might gather from that first paragraph, I haven’t been sitting around watching the tube all day. I was actually quite productive. I got about ten hours of work done, cleaned up my house, then did about ninety pounds of laundry. It feels so good to have that last one checked off the list. I’m the guy who buys sheets and towels when they’re all dirty because he doesn’t want to wash them so when I finally get to the point where I realize I can’t procrastinate any longer, I’m left with a hell of a lot of clothes to wash. Today was the sheets/towels run: 5 sets of queen size sheets, probably about 20 big towels, plus an assortment of hand towels, dish towels, wash cloths, and a bunch of running gear I decided to toss into the mix since I was going anyway. So, I end up barely able to squeeze out the door because I’m carrying a full hockey bag and two of those mesh laundry bags laundry. And then there’s the two-and-a-half block hike to the place, then the joys of an East Harlem laundromat for an hour and a half, and finally, the hike back home with the back-breaking load.

The only thing missing from today was running. I was so happy that today was Monday, and therefore, a rest day. Usually I hate my off days because I get all antsy and irritable, but not today. My body is so beat up and sore right now, I was more than happy to take a day off. Why am I so sore? Well, for starters, I’ve run 188 miles in the past 30 days, during most of which I’ve been battling this nasty respiratory illness. My last day off was a week ago Monday and, since then, I’ve had a few intense workouts thrown in the mix — the hill workout Wednesday, a 13 mile run at a 6:59 pace on Saturday (only slightly off my P.R. half-marathon pace), and a fast 7 mile run yesterday up in the Bronx (which was supposed to be a short recovery run). I’m really trying to be smart about training for my marathon this time around, though, and so I’m listening to my body. Although I’m feeling a lot better tonight than I was this morning, I’m still going to take it easy tomorrow and run my 5 miles slow. Plus, I’m going to take an extra rest day on Friday so that my legs will be fresh for Saturday’s 22 miler. Yikes, don’t even want to think about that now…

So, instead, let me wrap this up with one final thought. Do you ever have those moments where you just feel like a giant moron for missing out on something that’s really good? Well, I had one of those yesterday… Over a year after moving over to the east side on the 6 line, I finally decided to find out what was up at the end of it. I discovered that Pelham Bay Park is one of NYC’s hidden gems — well, as hidden as an enormous park three times the size of Central Park can be. I was running through woods, alongside a beach, over bridges to little islands. It was all very scenic and very relaxing — my little escape from the city without ever leaving the city. I’m just bummed that I missed out on an entire summer of running up there.

They say a win’s a win and you should always be happy with one. But I don’t necessarily buy that. Not on days like today at least. Nobody (well, except for maybe Leon Washington) in the Jets locker room should be feeling too good about their win over the Chiefs today. Yes, you won… barely. But, losing this game wasn’t even a question. The Chiefs were 1-5 going into today and their all-star running back was out of the game because of legal troubles. Their third string quarterback — a rookie from Coastal Carolina University (Is that even a real school?) — was starting his second game ever and entered the game with the worst active passer rating in the league. How was this not a blowout? You should have won by fifty. Instead, Brett Favre (the supposed demigod of passing), throws not one, not two, but three interceptions! The Chiefs had a fourth quarter lead and then, even after the final scoring drive by the Jets, a chance to come back and win in the final minute. Inexcusable.

Meanwhile, down in Miami, Chad Pennington completes 22 of 30 for 314 yards and leads the woeful Dolphins (let’s not forget that they were 1-15 last year) to an upset victory past the 5-1 Bills. But, still, nobody questions the Jets’ decision to bring in Favre. I’m listening to post-game highlights and reading articles over at ESPN.com and everyone’s talking about what a great rally Favre put together! Are you kidding me? A rally wouldn’t even be necessary if he hadn’t fucked everything up so badly to begin with! He’s now thrown 11 interceptions this season, the highest in the entire league. Oh, and he’s 39 years old. So, even if he was having a good season (which he’s not — it’s mediocre at best, despite what everyone keeps saying), bringing him on board was incredibly short-sighted.

Well, what’s done is done and all we can do now is hope for the best. But, I must admit, I’m not too optimistic at this point. True, the Jets have a winning record of 4-3, but none of those four wins was anything to brag about. They all came against struggling teams and none of them (with the exception of the Cincinnati game) was all that convincing of a win. So, it’s tough to expect great things from the second half of the season — the half when New York actually has to play some good teams.

Let me just say that this is not going to be as monumental as the music I’m listening to while writing it: Johannes Brahms’ Symphony No. 3 in F Major. I think monumental is a good word. I don’t know how people can listen to this stuff everyday. It’s just too powerful and has too much going on. I’m having trouble concentrating on writing because I keep getting lost in the changing music. Maybe that’s why I never listen to classical music. Or maybe it’s just because I never have it around. I think I could get used to it though. The reason I’m listening to it now is because the store on 116th Street that’s run by the nuns had a box of records sitting outside today when I walked past. I picked up seven albums for $7. I’ve been listening to them all afternoon and am pretty happy with what I ended up with. I didn’t really recognize any of it, I was just picking stuff with cool album covers. Seems to have worked.

Anyway, I don’t really want to write a lot because I’m so damn sick of sitting here at my computer. Instead, here’s a couple quick notes:

I just baked biscuits and they were not as delicious as I was hoping that they would be.

I finally (after like two months of being sick) called the doctor yesterday. Well, actually I called the free health clinic. Anyway, the soonest I could get an appointment was for November 9th. But, that works for me. First off, beggars can’t be choosers. Plus, going to the doctor scares the shit out of me, so it’s a lot easier to think of it as being far off in the distance. And, most importantly, I’m pretty sure that I’m not gonna just keel over and die in the next two weeks — if I’ve toughed it out the last couple months, what’s another couple weeks?

Good news is that these past couple days, I have been feeling slightly better. I’ve been overloading on the vitamins and water and all that good stuff. Although, I haven’t been getting as much sleep as I should. I’ve been up at 4:30 every day to go running. But tomorrow, I’m sleeping in until 7:00. Holy crap — I just said “sleeping in until 7:00.”

While watching Game 1 of the World Series last night, I managed to shatter a (full) wine glass. I took that as a sign that I needed to get to sleep. It was my first glass of the night.

I never finished watching that documentary on Jack Kerouac. It was horrible.

I did, however, finish reading What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. It was pretty good. Not life changing or anything, but it was good to see in the mind of another runner/writer (not that I’m comparing my writing with Murakami’s, but I’m calling myself a writer in the same sense that I call myself a runner but am not comparing myself to the elites.)

And I started reading Nikolai Gogol’s Dead Souls. I’ve been wanting to read this one for a while. Dostoevsky mentions it a few times and, as you may or may not know, I’m a big time fan of Dostoevsky so if he thinks it’s good, I want to read it.

Running has been good this week. I was thoroughly beat up by yesterday’s hill/speed workout but, other than that, I’ve been feeling pretty good. I have another six miler tomorrow and then 13 on Saturday. I’m excited to have this light weekend — it will be the first one in a month that I haven’t had either a race or a twenty-miler.

I went down to the Upper East Side to buy running tights but when I got to the store, I just couldn’t do it. I ended up with some fleece sweats instead. My summer running wardrobe was pretty much a page straight out of the Nike catalog and I had originally intended on doing the same thing for winter, but I don’t know, this winter running gear just seems too serious. I mean, Jesus, I’m just trying to have fun here. If sweat pants were good enough for Rocky, they’re good enough for me. I’ve also been thinking about just buying really high socks (I saw some cool ones at American Apparel the other day) and wearing them with shorts for a circa 1974 look.

I think that I was predestined to eat Chinese food for lunch today. I tried to avoid it, but it had some sort of mysterious pull on me and I couldn’t say no. It was disgusting and I immediately regretted my decision.

Just minutes before that, the clerk at the pharmacy gave me a crazy look when I went up to the counter with a box of Kleenex, some shampoo, and bubble bath. I’m pretty sure it was the last one that got her attention. What, I can’t enjoy a nice relaxing bath too? Why? Because I’m a man? Because I have a beard? Fuck you. I will have as many bubble baths as I want. Don’t give me your dirty looks. It was intense. I probably over-analyzed that one a bit…

This crazy little herd of bugs has found its way into my house and they’re annoying the hell out of me. They just sort of meander around the sky seeming to have no purpose with their journeys other than to disrupt me. I don’t know what they are. Gnats maybe? Anyone know how to get rid of them?

I’m going to go watch the rest of the game now. And maybe part of a movie. I haven’t decided yet. Night.

I was driving from my aunt’s house to my cousin’s this morning, a trip that I’ve made hundreds of times before, when I somehow got lost and ended up in the mountains. Worried that I was going to be late, and thoroughly disgusted with myself for getting lost on this simple trip, I decided to try a shortcut. I slowed, turned on the blinker, and left the road, driving into for the forest. I was going slowly uphill for quite some time, but gradually the trees started to thin. I eventually reached the timberline and saw an eagle sitting about two hundred yards ahead, perched on a boulder. I turned the truck off, got out, and started walking towards him. He turned his head to face me and blinked. I kept approaching but he didn’t move. Eventually, I was close enough to touch the bird and I reached out my hand and patted the feathers on his neck and started talking to him quietly, calmly, just as I used to do to my horse. By this time, either the eagle had grown significantly or I had shrunk considerably, I’m not sure which. Actually, I don’t remember any change in size happening. I just remember throwing my right leg over the top of the eagle, grabbing hold of him near the base of his wings and squeezing him with my heels to let him know I was ready to take off. We began in a small circle around the top of the mountain. I looked down and saw the seemingly infinite forest, broken only by occasional lakes and rivers and cliffs. I wasn’t guiding the bird at all, he seemed to know where he was going and I just relaxed and looked around me. I was no longer holding on, but now just sitting straight up and looking around, taking in the amazing views. We began heading what I think was west. It seemed like hours that we were flying. The mountains gradually changed into flat wheat fields, and then changed again into low rolling hills filled with old oaks and vineyards. I saw a quarry with a never-ending line of trucks driving up out of it and thought it was the one near my cousin’s house but as we began circling downwards in a landing pattern, I realized that it wasn’t the quarry I was thinking of and that I once again had no idea where I was. But the eagle still seemed to know exactly where he was going and so I kept silent as we landed atop a nondescript hill about a half mile from the huge opening in the ground. I dismounted and then turned back to the eagle and picked him up. Again, I don’t remember any change in size happening, but one must have occurred here. I knew that I had to carry him down the hill, that he couldn’t fly down it. I didn’t know why he couldn’t fly or, for that matter, why we even had to go down the hill. Those questions never even presented themselves to me. It was all very matter-of-fact, almost like it was predestined. Somehow I knew that it was gravely important that we make it, and that’s all there was. I never did make it though. Somewhere around two thirds of the way down the hill, I woke up to the sound of my neighbor’s pit bull barking in the backyard.

That’s what happens when I take NyQuil before I go to sleep. I’ve been battling off yet another illness this week. It’s been very similar to the last round back in late August, but not as severe. Or, it could have just been better because I was more defensive this time. I’ve been taking in insane amounts of liquids and Vitamin C and sleeping as much as possible these past few days because I really wanted to get over this quickly. I’m running a half-marathon in Staten Island tomorrow and was really hoping to drop under 1:31:45 (seven minute miles). But now I’m not so sure that’s going to happen. I’ve been coughing horribly, my throat aches, and my nose is running nonstop (ironic). I feel like it will be an accomplishment just to finish the run tomorrow at this point. Shattering my P.R. seems like asking for too much. We’ll see how it goes.

I watched a great documentary tonight — Spirit of the Marathon. I had it here at the house all week but intentionally waited until today to watch it so that it would motivate me on my run tomorrow. It definitely did get me amped up. Consider this a movie recommendation. I am very eager to get out there tomorrow and see how this goes.

I’m even more eager for this last month-and-a-half before Philadelphia to be over with. I hear everyone talking about New York and it kills me that I have to wait another three weeks beyond that to run my marathon. But, I suppose that’s three weeks of extra training and cooler weather, so I shouldn’t complain. I’m very confident about the race. I already have two 20 milers under my belt and have another one and a 22 on the way, so even though it’ll be my first time going the 26.2, it won’t be totally uncharted territory. But, I really shouldn’t start thinking about that now because then I’ll get all pumped up and stand no chance at all of being able to fall asleep soon, as I need to.

So, instead, a brief recap of the week. Monday and Tuesday I had jury duty for the first time ever. I got called into a trial for a guy who killed six people but luckily wasn’t picked to stay on it, and so the rest of my two days were just waiting around to see if another trial would call me. None ever did and I was able to spend two solid days reading 740 Park, which I had stalled on because it had gotten a little boring. Tuesday morning, I ran early with Sarah on the Hudson River, then Wednesday we did intervals around the Reservoir in the Park: a mile warm-up, a 6:20 mile, 800 yard jog, 6:30 mile, 800 yard jog, another 6:20 mile, and then a two mile cool-down. It was an intense run. And, on the way, we saw four raccoons. Wednesday afternoon, I started to feel ill and I took a nap on my lunch break then went to sleep early that evening. I was going to get up Thursday morning to run, but when I got of bed, I felt like I was about to die. I struggled through work and then ran a steady four miles in the evening instead of the 6 I was supposed to. Yesterday was pretty much the same story except I ran 5.5 miles. I originally planned to take today off, but I felt like I’d be better off if I sweated some of this crap out, so I did another four this morning (Well, actually about 12:30 when I finally woke up after the eagle ride.) Now, all that’s left to see is how all this transitions into the race tomorrow.

On Tuesday, I took advantage of the fact that I was downtown (which is exceedingly rare these days, unless I’m in the middle of a long run around the island) and went to J&R Music World to buy a record player. I’ve wanted one for years (literally) and yet somehow never could justify buying one even though I’ve spent countless times more money on things that were completely worthless. So, ever sine then, I’ve been listening to the five albums on vinyl I have here in New York over and over again. My parents are going to bring out the rest from Colorado this Christmas. Right now, I’m listening to Radiohead’s Hail to the Thief. And, yes, when people tell you that music sounds better on vinyl, they are telling the truth, not just being elitist. Even though it comes out of the same speakers as my CDs, the music just sounds so much more real coming from the turntable.

Other than that, not a hell of a lot has happened. It’s pretty much just eat, sleep, work, run, and watch a playoff baseball game here and there. Speaking of, the Rays and Red Sox are knotted up at 8 in the bottom of the eighth. Seems auspicious. Maybe I should migrate to my recliner and finish watching…