Substitutes and Alternatives

As an Orthodox Christian, I try to follow the Traditional Fasting Discipline on designated fasting days as well as during fasting seasons: with exceptions here and there, that discipline involves abstaining from all meat, dairy products, olive oil, and "wine" (really, all alcoholic beverages).

Generally speaking, keeping the fast is difficult, though not so burdensome that it's undoable. And it's supposed to be somewhat "uncomfortable"--we're not doing penance or trying to earn Divine favor, but we are attempting to practice self-denial, or at least avoid overindulgence, to remind ourselves that, ultimately, eating and drinking--and all other activities--are opportunities to give thanks to the One who provides for, sustains, and loves us.

That said, I've found that there are roughly two ways to abstain from certain food categories: eating foods outside of those categories for their own sake, and eating foods that technically don't violate the fast but that fool the taste buds (and eyes and nose) into thinking a "forbidden" food is actually being eaten. I'll call the former foods "alternatives," and this category (to oversimplify profoundly) includes vegetables, fruits, many breads, and most foods found in their "natural" or raw state. The latter foods, which I'll call "substitutes," include veggie burgers, soy dogs/nuggets/crumbles, soy milk, and other foods and beverages that mimic the look, smell, and flavor of non-vegan originals.

I'm not sure that the alternatives have any intrinsic spiritual superiority in comparison with the substitutes; I'm fairly certain that the use or negligence of moderation in eating from either category is of greater importance. But sometimes, I can't help but feel that I'm "cheating" when I allow the substitutes to dominate my diet, following the letter but not the spirit of the fast. Is there anything remotely ascetic about drinking vanilla soy milk--or, my favorite, "very vanilla" soy milk? Am I really "denying" myself anything when I eat that gourmet black bean burger?

Those questions have found a permanent home in my mind. Today, though, they also remind me of my present running-related dilemma: my Achilles tendons have forced me into another running "fast," or at least a time of running moderation. And the fast presents me with a choice of non-running activities: "alternatives" that I'd engage in for their own sake, such as bicycling or swimming, or else "substitutes" that more closely mimic running, such as using the elliptical or stair-step machines.

Because I've already started training for a fall marathon, I'm sorely (pun intended) tempted to do the latter, since I'd like to fool my muscles into thinking I'm still running, even when I'm not. Problem is, the substitutes force me to put weight on my tendons—the very thing I’m trying to avoid by cutting back my running. Conversely, swimming, probably the best form of exercise I could choose and the one that would put the least strain on my tender tendons, is not something I enjoy as exercise--it's the workout equivalent of beets and celery. Worst of all, I know that I'll be tempted to "cheat" outright--as I am in my food-fasting times--and run on days when I've planned to not do so; in fact, I’ve already done just that. Self-control is not a spiritual fruit I always cultivate with success.

By no means am I trying to equate the discipline of fasting with making choices based on exercise preferences. And, ultimately, it probably matters little what non-running activity I choose, over the next few weeks, or ever. It is, perhaps, a poor analogy.

But the analogy does cross my mind.

*****

The obliquely spiritual nature of this post may, in part, stem from my thoughts about Fr. Matthew MacKay, an Orthodox priest serving in Houston, Texas, who reposed today. Only 54 years old, Fr. Matthew collapsed while running this morning.

I did not know Fr. Matthew, but several of my fellow parishioners did, and my pastor counted him as a close friend (and had just spent the past week with him at a clergy conference). My prayers are for his repose, and for strength for and mercy on his wife and two sons, the rest of his family, his friends, and his assisting clergy and parishioners.

May his Memory be Eternal.

And may I appreciate every run, not as an end in itself, but as a means of expressing thanks to the One who provides for, sustains, and loves me.

My Achilles heel is my...

Ouch.

I mutter that word (or its equivalent) sotto voce (or louder) at some point during almost every run.

And that's really OK. My wife and I both take odd comfort in the fact that running is--per my buddy Glen--all about "managing discomfort." Neither of us is a teenager, and over the last nearly three years, I've learned that many aches and pains are not true injuries but simply the body's pouting at the loss of its cherished inertia. A little soreness, a little tiredness? No big worry.

Of course, our running is occasionally halted by actual injury: IT band pain kept me off the roads, trails, and treadmill for nearly two months early last year. Nagging knee and ankle injuries sometimes sideline my wife. But those setbacks have been rare and short-lived. Most of the discomfort we manage is more annoying than debilitating.

But what about discomfort that somehow falls between those poles?

I've been experiencing soreness in my Achilles tendons for several months now. Not every run, and not during the duration of any run...but it's there. I originally thought the pain was due to a switch to a softer-heeled shoe early this year, as I felt the pain more while wearing that pair than when wearing the older, slightly stiffer one. But despite a recent shoe upgrade, the tenderness persists. I've read horror stories of exacerbating Achilles tendon injuries; just the term rupture makes me shudder.

The prudent decision would simply be to replace running with, say, cycling for a few weeks. But because I'm a stubborn ass, I've refused to simply take an extended break from running, especially now that I've "officially" begun training for my fall marathon. Fortunately, increasing distance (I ran my first official long training run this morning) doesn't seem to irritate the tendons; running fast, however--and especially running fast up hills--does.

So while I've committed to a training plan that includes more speedwork than previous plans I've followed, I think I'm just going to have to focus more on the distances themselves than on the specialized speed training (intervals, hill repeats) that seem to hurt more than help right now. Maybe I can reintroduce those runs in a couple of weeks. But the short-term goal is to prevent discomfort from degenerating into something more sinister.

Running log: 10.3 sweaty miles: 4.8 alone and 5.5 with the Breakaway training group

At the Cutting Edge of the Interface of Stout and Whisky. And Burnt Stinky Pork.

The second of the two BrewDog Paradox Whisky Barrel Aged stouts I received as a Joe's Beer Nutz member, Smokehead--on paper--followed the same formula used in making the Isle of Arran stout, which I really enjoyed. Raving about the latter to my brother, I brought the bottle of Smokehead to his house last weekend to share it with him. It poured a thick, opaque black, and I just knew it'd be at least as good as the Isle of Arran.

Er.

I know that some folks like the essence of smoked pork products infused into their beers, and I know that Smokehead has garnered rave reviews among beer enthusiasts, but I found it nearly undrinkable. My brother (no beer sissy) was able to stomach only a couple of sips as well before giving up on it. And my wife, who is not a beer drinker but is a cook, compared it to Kikkoman soy sauce; it's just too bad that we didn't have a stir-fry going, I guess.

No ham-beer for me. Call me a weenie. (Or don't.)

Much more enjoyable that night, though, was the Sierra Nevada Bigfoot Barleywine Style Ale, which we also shared. Hoppy and malty, it was a thoroughly tasty brew.

*****

(For a spirited take on the madness of BrewDog's methods, go here.)

Tulsa Time!

After planning to do so for a few weeks, I finally registered for the Williams Route 66 Marathon, to be held in Tulsa, Oklahoma, this November. This will be my third marathon, but my first outside Memphis. (Since the Memphis race takes place only 13 days after the Tulsa marathon, I’m not planning to run the full marathon here this year, though I am hoping to at least jog the Half Marathon.)


Why Tulsa?

My Dad lives there; running in this race gives me a nice excuse to go see him and my stepmom for a long weekend.

Do you know anything about the course?

The length—26.2 miles! Nah. From what I’ve read about it, the only relatively hilly sections come in the first 14 or 15 miles. The race ends with a several-mile out-and-back along the Arkansas River (which bisects the city), which, while perhaps not offering much in the way of scenic variety, should at least be nice and flat.

Do you have a goal finishing time?

Sure—3:15, which would qualify me for Boston. But since I’ve yet to even finish under 3:30, I’m really hoping to do at least that this time. In my first marathon, I was probably prepared to finish in about 3:30 to 3:35 but got greedy on race day—after 16 miles or so at the pace for 3:15, my legs completely wore out and I struggled to reach 3:42; last year, I ran at a 3:30 pace but experienced a leg cramp at the 22.5-mile mark and had to run/walk to the finish (at just under 3:39).

Any strategies for improving your time and experience from the first two?

First of all, I’m going to build in a little more speedwork into my marathon training. Hal Higdon’s Advanced training schedule does just that, substituting some focused speed- and hill-related running for a few of the “regular” runs. The actual total mileage should be about the same as in the Intermediate plan (which I followed last year).

Second, I’m going to go back to my less-is-more preference regarding clothing and such. Last year, I bought compression pants and also wore an IT band strap above both knees; the pants were fine, I suppose, but the strap on the left leg may have been the culprit for my cramping. This year, even if it’s cold outside, I’m planning to stick with regular running shorts, a single technical shirt (hopefully short-sleeved), familiar shoes and socks, a thermal headband to keep my ears warm (if needed), and light gloves (if needed).

Any other thoughts as you get ready to start your “official” training?

A couple of things. I think I’ll experiment more with hydration and energy/food options during the long runs. My wife has leant me her Camelbak, which I’ve already started using on longer runs in the heat. I also might give Gu (and similar products) a go, though I’d prefer to find something that more closely resembles actual food. Also, I'm going to try to get my weight down just a little lower than it was for the other two races--not too much lower, but just low enough to make a little less work for my joints and muscles (hence, the beer-post-to-running-post ratio may need to decrease!).

A (Star-Spangled) Banner Day

The photo shown above was taken at the Firecracker 5K. As usual, the Breakaway folks were there to support the runners--they even provided the shower through which I ran at about the 2-mile mark. (They also gave me the shirt.)

But the real highlight of the race was the fact that I ran it beginning to end with my brother, Stephen. In his first race in years, Stephen not only ran the entire race without a walk break but even sprinted to the finish line. Hopefully, this will be the first of many races I'll get to run with him. Way to go!

Running log: In addition to the race, the weekend included a long (12-mile) run at Stanky Creek with my running buddy Glen, with whom I trained last fall for the St. Jude Marathon. It was my first time to run at Stanky, and despite being fatigued from a full week of running, I enjoyed it very much--shadier overall than either the Tour de Wolf or the Wolf River Trails. I hope to make it back soon!


Beer log: To celebrate our finish, we eschewed the draft macros provided at the post-race party and instead treated ourselves to a fresh pint each of Boscos Isle of Skye Scottish Ale. (I also enjoyed a second pint later at home.)

B-Double-E-Double-R-U-N!

After several months of forcing running and beer to coexist as skew lines on this blog, I finally allowed them to intersect this past Thursday at the weekly Breakaway Group Run. After a run that ranged from 4 to 7 miles (5.4 for me) Ghost River Golden was enjoyed by all, including Yours Truly.

Have I mentioned that I love the Breakaway folks?

On the Banks of Embarcadero Skies

San Francisco is a vibrant, beautiful, walkable, and utterly charming city. I loved that I could run either up and down hills of the sort that I can only imagine here in Memphis or for miles on end along the Embarcadero (I logged a healthy 12 miles Monday morning, seeing both AT&T Park and the Marina as well as all of the expanse between them). I was thrilled at how easily I could navigate the city by bus, even making it completely across town Sunday morning for Liturgy at the Holy Virgin "Joy of All Who Sorrow" Cathedral and the chance to venerate St. John of Shanghai and San Francisco--and be able to meet back up with the rest of our group before lunchtime.

Oh, and I loved the beer.

My sister-in-law Mandy completely came through for me, securing not one but two bottles of Wilco Tango Foxtrot from Lagunitas Brewing. I bookended our trip with one each on our first and last nights in town.

I'd waited two months from when I first read about this brew till the moment I tasted it. Was it worth the wait?

Entirely. Imagine the hop flavor of a top-notch pale ale balanced against the maltiness of a darker ale--rich, crisp, and hearty.

And WTF was only the beginning of a great few days of beer tasting. Although we were ultimately unable to visit any of the many breweries in the SF area, I was able to try several beers indigenous to Califormia:


Pliny the Elder (Russian River Brewing Co) at the Rehearsal Dinner at Park Chow

Stone IPA at the Wedding Night feast at Foreign Cinema

As well as a delicious house Amber Ale at Betelnut with my aunt Suzanne, cousin Chris, his wife, Julie, and their children (and my second cousins) Ellie and Erik. 

Many Years, Mandy and Brad!

Where Everybody Knows Your Name, Even if it Isn't Yours

Probably owing to its utter lack of pretentiousness, and despite my smelling like a cigarette butt by the end of every visit there, I really enjoy the P&H Cafe. Maybe I just have good associations with the place, the home of our almost-weekly trivia outings. Maybe I like the fact that Jo, the main waitress and bartender, always remembers our names and what we usually have to drink; well, she remembers my wife's name incorrectly--"How's April?" she asks every week Cindy does not accompany me--but at least she's remembered it incorrectly the same way for more than 5 years now.

And last week, I really liked the fact that they hosted a beer tasting by Schlafly, makers of the best St. Louis-brewed beer I've had.

I didn't even know about the event before I walked in that night and nearly bumped into the tasting table. Not only were the Schlafly folks there, but also Amy, the wife of one of one of my brother's best friends and an employee of A.S. Barbaro Distributors. In the company of a friend and surrounded by good beer, I nearly forgot to meet up with my good friend Chase, who nearly gave up on me before I finally left the tasting area and entered the main dining room. Fortunately, I caught him before he left, and we experienced the beer tasting event together.

Beers tasted:

• Pale Ale
• Dry Hopped IPA
• Hefeweizen
• Oatmeal Stout
• Raspberry Hefeweizen

(Chase also tried the Kolsch, though I refrained since I'd enjoyed one only a few days beforehand)

All of the above were at least good (even the raspberry hefe, and I'm not generally a fan of fruity beers), and the Dry Hopped IPA and Oatmeal Stout were excellent (as was the Kolsch I had earlier). As a bonus, once the tasting proper ended, all leftover bottles were made available to P&H patrons for $1 each--another epic win even though our trivia team placed in the middle of the pack.

"April" and I are definitely planning to stop by either the Schlafly Bottleworks or Tap Room during our upcoming trip to St. Louis.

Rapid Eye Movement

 
I'm not one to sit and spin...

That said, I'm typing this chiefly to prepare myself for what will most likely be a rapid-fire succession of beer- and/or running-related posts. I've had an eventful couple of weeks on both of those fronts (as well as others), so even though I used to ask my English 1010 students to synthesize and summarize their thoughts in a single essay, I'm not going to try to do that here.

This...

was a knockout. 

Beer log:

Friday: A couple of light Mexican beers at a Mexican-themed birthday party at which I played music: Tecate (not bad, especially ice cold) and Sol (not much going for it, unfortunately, even ice cold)

Saturday: Before moving to the main course of the BrewDog Paradox Isle of Arran Whisky Cask Aged Stout (above), I primed my palette with a nice Sierra Nevada Porter.

Sunday: Schlafly Kolsch (nice!) with a seafood lunch

Running log: Back to the trails!

Saturday: 6.1 exhausting miles on the Tour de Wolf, followed by 3 easier miles at the Y later in the afternoon

Monday: 6.1 less exhausting miles on the same. Turns out that if one arrives just at sunrise, one is treated to foggy valleys along the southern stretch of the trail. I actually felt a chill in a couple of spots!

Tuesday: Just like Monday (6.1 miles), fog included!

After several weeks of waiting till after work to run, I've made the move back to morning runs. I'd forgotten (even in just a few weeks) how much I enjoy starting my day with a run. In addition to practical concers (I don't have to try to squeeze in a run during busy afternoons and evenings; it's cooler in the morning), I find morning runs more meditative--I have less white noise to sort through in the mornings, and the thoughts during the run seem to come more slowly rather than in a teeming crowd.

I could make a habit of this; at least I hope so.

The Beer Is Here!

I just received an email notice from Joe's Wines and Spirits that my monthly Beer Nutz Beer Club selections were in.

For those in Memphis who don't know, membership the club is a flat $15/month and entitles the member to a new selection of big beers the third Friday of every month. The catch is that you do not know in advance which beers you'll get; the good news, though, is that you'll sometimes get more than fifteen dollars' worth of beer.

This month, I'll receive two BrewDog Paradox whisky cask aged imperial stouts: the Isle of Arran and the Smokehead. I'm looking forward to what will be my first taste of Brewdog Paradox beers.

As a bonus, Joe's is holding a bottle of the Sierra Nevada 30th Anniversary Charlie, Fred & Ken's Bock Imperial Helles Bock for me (thanks, guys!).

Running log: After extolling the virtues of getting back outside on Tuesday, I grudgingly returned to the Y treadmill Wednesday and yesterday. It's really, really, really hot out there. Really.
Wednesday: 3 miles (+30 min other cardio)
Yesterday: 6 miles

Beer log:
Tuesday: McSorley's Irish Black Lager after dinner.

Stinky

Stinky, sweaty clothes are a given for runners, but especially this time of year. And most especially this morning.

After a couple of days' worth of avoiding the heat, I ventured out into it again this morning for a run on my "neighborhood loop" (really an out and back). It was good to be back out there. I'd run on the treadmill several times over the last week or two, including yesterday; I'm not convinced that "treadmill running is not 'real' running," especially when treadmill availability is deciding factor between running and not running at all for some folks (myself included some of that time). But there really is something soothing about running outdoors, allowing one's eyes to shift from objects close at hand to treetops several blocks away and back again; trail running, with its ever-shifting scenery and terrain, is the best for this, but even getting out onto the roads is a huge relief after a couple of weeks' worth of staring at the backs of heads, volumeless televisions, and digital display panels on which every element of the run is quantified.

Make no mistake: I was a sweatier than a luchador after only a couple of miles; but the payoff of beauty and scenic variety more than compensated for my becoming the stinky warrior that I was.

Running log:

Monday: 6 miles at the Y, roughly 8 min/mi pace

Today: 6.25 miles on the neighborhood loop at about the same pace

INXS of my heat quotient

I couldn't help but think of this song--which, despite the, uh, "period" clothing worn in the video, was one of my favorites by this group--as I ran the Gibson Guitar 5k early Saturday evening. By the numbers:

Time (unofficial): 20:45
Songs listened to on the iPod during the race: 5.3--REM's Finest Worksong, Garbage's I'm Only Happy When it Rains, U2's Discotheque, Third Day's Believe, Dewey Starr's Old Gold Heart, and the first minute or so of Finest Worksong again.
Seconds off your goal time: 45
Did the song about rain cool you off any? The heck no. That one's not joining me for the next race; in hindsight, maybe I should've uploaded the INXS song instead.
Number of beers enjoyed at the postrace party: None, thogh I did have a tasty Sierra Nevada Summerfest after I got home.
Number of miles jogged after I cooled down and decided to see a little bit of downtown in a less hurried state: about 1.5

The Little Victories

As we seem to have done most weeks lately, the San Juan Brigade finished just shy of the money in last night's trivia contest at the P&H Cafe (still not sure that "colony" rather than "hive" of bees was not correct...).

But on the plus side, we did win a free pitcher of beer by winning the heads-or-tails contest in the "beer round" between trivia rounds 4 and 5.

WE'RE NUMBER ONE!

Beer log: 1 pint of Lazy Magnolia Pecan Harvest Ale, 1 pint of 1554, and a cup of PBR (look Jack, no headache!).

Running log:
Monday: 5 miles (including 4 x 0.5 mi speed intervals) on the treadmill in the air-conditioned comfort of the Y.
Tuesday: 6 miles (8 min/mi pace), also at the Y

Tally

Miles run since last update: 9 (4 Sunday, 5 today)

Beers consumed since last update: 5.2 (2 pints of Ghost River Oatmeal Stout and a bottle of New Belgium Mothership Wit Saturday; and 1 bottle of Yazoo Pale Ale, 1 glass of Le Merle Belgian Style Farmhouse Ale, and a few sips of Anchor Steam (which I guess I, unlike the 1,375 reviewers at Beer Advocate, didn't like very much) yesterday

Do I feel a twinge of guilt about not liking Anchor Steam, especially with the trip to San Francisco awaiting me at the end of the month? Yeah, a little

Really? OK, not really, though I do feel bad about not finishing the beer, especially since someone else provided it

Times I've looked at my beer in the fridge longingly today, a fasting day: Too many

Weeks till I make my inaugural trip to MidSouth Malts to inquire about beer-brewing gear: Hopefully less than 4

Jurisdiction

Running is not always fun. Sometimes, the legs and joints are sore or tired, making the entire run a drag. Others times, weather extremes (too hot, too cold, too rainy, too muggy) sap one's energy, leaving one much more tired than would be proportionate to the distance and pace of the run. And sometimes, running is just plain boring, especially if one is confined to the treadmill or has run the same route several days in a row.

Yesterday, my run was nearly spoiled by dive-bombing flies.



I don't know what happened on the Wolf River trails between Tuesday and yesterday. Tuesday's run was muggy, but not buggy. Yesterday, though, I spent what felt like half of my run shooing flies, slapping my head and neck, even yelling at them several times (I even shouted, "Get the F off of me!" once; somehow, I did manage to say "F" instead of the actual word). I'm sure I was a sight.

My biggest question, though, is one of airspace and jurisdiction: I know why a fly might be angry when someone runs through its airspace; I don't, however, understand how that same fly could, having its own jurisdiction transgressed, justify following someone for the next quarter mile, dive-bombing him, buzzing his ears. I seem to recall an episode of "The Misadventures of Sheriff Lobo" in which the title character was prevented from chasing an outlaw once he crossed into the next county.

Don't flies watch bad TV, too?

Running log: 7 miles on the Blue and Yellow trails (I walked about a minute of that)

Beer log: Sierra Nevada Glissade Golden Bock, part of the handpicked 6-pack of SN beers given to me for my birthday by my brother and sister-in-law. Perfect for a hot evening.

National Running Day

Today is National Running Day! I may need to rethink my original plan of a run-free day and take at least a ceremonial lap around my block to mark the occasion.

Quick Work

Last Friday, I planned to run the Yellow Wolf River trail, only to be forced to detour less than one mile in because a bridge was out (no biggie--I just shifted over to the Blue trail).

A mere four days later, I returned yesterday to the Wolf River trails; remembering the washed-out bridge, I started on the Blue trail. What did I find at the Blue-Yellow crossroads? A brand-new bridge on the Yellow trail!

A big, sweaty thank you is due to the volunteers who braved the heat and bugs to erect a new bridge so quickly. Y'all are awesome!

Running log: About 7 miles on the Blue and (mainly) Yellow trails.

Beer log: A pint of 1554 at the P&H.

The Bryan Hayes Memorial Day Run; or, Things That Go Bump in the Day

Having today off, I decided to do some trail running. It's Memorial Day, and I thought I'd honor my good friend Bryan Hayes--who is completing his tour in Iraq--by running at Herb Parsons State Park, a place we've talked about running many times but have not yet visited together.

It would have been to my advantage to have had Bryan with me. In addition to being great company, Bryan knows the 7-mile loop around the lake; I, on the other hand, did not know the trail (today was my first time there) and thus got lost or turned around several times. I also tried to be a hero and circumnavigate the lake twice instead of just once, and the heat and time on my feet conspired to leave me exhausted by the end. But I loved the trail itself (much wider than the Wolf River trails, and, unlike the Tour de Wolf, most of the trail is in the shade).

I look forward to running it with my good friend when he returns later this summer. Happy Memorial Day, Bryan!

Running log:

My Herb Parsons experience by the numbers:

Miles ran: about 14
Miles walked: about 0.5 (at around mile 13)
Number of wrong turns: at least 5
Number of times I fell down: 2
Number of times I fell down because I bumped my head on the branch of a fallen tree: 1
Number of seconds spent lying on the ground after bumping my head: probably 15 or so
Number of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches eaten during and after the run: 1
Number of clothing changes during and after the run: 2 (I felt like Madonna!)
Number of items purchased at the park store to meet the $5 debit card minimum which I decided to pay because I was hecka thirsty but the Gatorade cost only $1.59: 5

Sunday: 3 miles at Shady Grove

Beer log:

Sunday: Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy (thanks, Charlie!)

Don't Try This at Home...Maybe Not Even at the Zoo

I spent both Thursday and Friday evenings at the Memphis Zoo; I spent today resting a spell.

Beer log:

Friday: Zoo Brew, with 3- to 5-oz servings of the following (* = first time I'd tried this beer):

Saranac Summer Ale*
Victory Hop Devil
Beamish Irish Stout*
Singha* (lager from Thailand)
Samuel Smith Oatmeal Stout
Sierra Nevada Porter
Flying Dog Garde Dog Biere de Garde*
Bosco's Bombay IPA
Abita Jockamo IPA*
Rogue American Amber*
Unibroue Maudite*
Unibroue Don de Dieu*
Dogfish Head Raison d'Etre*
Yazoo Hop Project*
Acme Pale Ale* (North Coast)
Eye of the Hawk ale* (Mendocino)
Kasteel Rouge*
Ghost River Glacial Pale Ale
Hook & Ladder Backdraft Brown*
Hook & Ladder Lighter*
Beer 30* (Wisconsin)
Homebrew: Moose Drool Clone*
Homebrew: Scottish 80 Schilling Ale*
Homebrew: Rye Ale*

A couple of notes:

1. A few beers were nice surprises--the Saranac Summer Ale (lager with lemonade) was really flavorful; I may buy a six-pack of that this summer. I also liked the Yazoo Hop Project (#28...each batch of Hop Project is brewed with a different mix of hops, so each batch is different from every other one)--along with the Ghost River Glacial Pale Ale (even in such lofty company, it still stood out), this was probably my favorite of the hoppy beers. And all three Homebrews were really, really good. However,

2. Even with small serving sizes, trying 24 beers in one night was maybe NOT the best idea. I tried to pace myself (I really did!), and I kept bottled water with me the entire time. But I overdid things; an especially poor decision was trying all of the Homebrews back-to-back-to-back right before we left--each was really strong, and I spent the next 2 hours regretting that final sprint to the finish.

Still, I had a great time with my brother, my sister-in-law, and our friend Joey; I just might use a little more discretion (read: self-control) next time.

Today: Not even considering having a beer.

Running log:

Thursday: Zoom Through the Zoo 4-mile race--I finished in 27:28, more than a minute faster than my time last year. After getting caught up in the middle of the pack for the first half mile last year, I decided to start closer to the cheetahs and gazelles...even though I was winded by the end (OK, well before the end), that speedy first mile helped me to the improved time.
Friday: 7.25 miles on the muddy Yellow and Blue trails.
Today: Not even considering running.