Can I do the Dirty Du?

I've done a fair amount of talking about doing the Dirty Duathlon recently, for someone who had never gone on a mountain bike ride and who hadn't run on trails in almost nine months.

The latter part of that sentence remains true; the former has been taken care of. Cory and I spent at least an hour on the Center Trails last weekend, and (obviously) I survived to tell the tale.

I was in a bit of a funk when we started out, so I probably would've raved more in this post under normal circumstances if I'd woken up on the right side of the bed.

But still, even as a cranky perfectionist, I had to admit that the Dirty Duathlon is eminently doable, even if I do nothing more in the way of training this year.

The ride began inauspiciously — i.e., on a bit of an uphill with roots and other things that made wimpy little me nervous. I'm not an adrenaline seeker, nor was I very used to the mountain bike even on ideal terrain.

Over the course of an hour-plus and five or six miles, though, I slowly but surely got my legs under me. I definitely walked several portions, mostly sharp/bumpy uphills that I didn't shift for in time, or narrow, guard-rail-free bridges at the bottom of hills.

You know what I didn't do, though? Fall on the trails. (I fell later on smooth concrete while standing up and fully sober, for no reason at all. But not on the bike.)

I also didn't give up. I got nervous, I got freaked out by fast riders behind me, I got angry that I didn't wear bug spray, I got tickled by sweat rolling down my nose at the most inopportune time ... and I stuck with it.

And at times, when I wasn't convinced I was going to fall into a ravine, I enjoyed it.

Most of all I liked being in the woods; adding some higher-intensity exercise for a shorter period of time was a nice change of pace, too; and so was knowing I'd willingly ventured outside of my comfort zone.

The day after wasn't too painful. During our ride, I noticed the tension on top of my wrists and forearms fairly early on, but the next day just felt like I'd gone on a tougher-than-usual bike ride. Nothing special.

So it looks like I'll be doing the Dirty Du for sure, and I think I can even handle the longer distance. (Which is good, because I have a commitment that morning that would make the shorter distance's earlier start tricky.)

The plan now will have to be:

* Keep mountain biking.

* Go on a trail run.

* Bike to my trail run.

* Hit the trails with the bike first, then run.

* Sandwich a trail run around mountain bike rides.

Suddenly November seems very, very close. Even though my goal is just to finish, I should start planning this out soon.

How should I spend the rest of 2015?

I think I've settled on how I'll spend the rest of 2015, at least when it comes to workouts.

After the Bix, my bunions had started to bother me, and so had the heat/humidity. "Sit out August," I told myself. "Don't wreck running for yourself; just enjoy summer."

Easier said than done, evidently. I've been crabby and sedentary lately, and you know what cures both of those things for me? Setting — then following — a running schedule.

So August will be twice-a-week runs, with a heavy emphasis on cross-training (yoga, bike rides, walks). Ideally one run would be shorter and more intense, while the other would be longer (four to six miles) and more relaxed.

If I could get myself started on the habit of doing some pushups twice a week and planks twice a week, that would be great. 

Even better would be distilling a short post-work yoga routine, created with my personal favorite poses from the various yoga videos/classes I watch/take. But that sounds like the kind of lofty aspiration that I excel in never attempting ...

By September, I hope to have started on at least one, if not both, new challenge: Capital Striders track workouts and mountain biking. 

Why mountain biking? So I can do the Dirty Duathlon in November by myself, instead of just being someone's runner.

I mean, running two miles on trails — with a break in the middle for someone to do 10 miles of mountain biking — won't exactly be a piece of cake, but it's just close enough to easy where I don't want to pay to do just that.

After Nov. 7, I see two routes. One is just kick back and relax until Thanksgiving, when I embark on the holiday run streak again. (This is the most likely option.)

The other is to keep up the trail running, even when it's gross — especially when it's gross — so I can take on the Sycamore 8 in December, no matter the conditions.

That's a bridge I'll cross much later. For now, it's time to finish my beer and hit the sack early to rest up for my first run since the Bix 7.

My 2014 race wish list

More fun than making New Year's resolutions is making a list of the races I'd like to do next year.

(And, not coincidentally, thinking about spring is more fun than worrying about staying safe during the winter.)

I of course have some general goals to go along with the races, but I haven't refined them yet or studied whether the training I'd have to do with each is feasible.

But if all the stars align and nothing unexpected happens (HA!), here's what I'd like to sign up for in 2013.

* Friendly Sons of St. Patrick 5K: I know for sure that one 2014 goal is to break my 5K PR. However, I'm not sure whether I can do it at this one, because last year it was gun timing only, no chips.

The field was either noncompetitive enough or small enough for me to line up almost at the start line last year, but I want the benefit of every second I can get. And I want those seconds to be measured by something more official than my iPhone.

The timing of this one is the best one I can find in the springtime, though, so this might be it by default.

* Grand Blue Mile: I never got around to doing Rockford's mile race, but I'd rather run hard later in the day and earlier in the year anyway.

* Woofin' It 5K: Furry Friends Refuge is my favorite charity to support, and who can argue with a race where you see dogs — in costume — of all sizes and breeds?

* Dam to Dam: Before I realized this was going to be a half marathon, I figured I'd just run it to cross off my signature-Iowa-events checklist. Then I heard of the distance increase and remembered how much more pleasant the 2013 race's weather was than the Drake Relays half ...

* RAGBRAI: Alright, it's not a race. It's definitely happening, though.

* Boone County 5K History Run/Walk: Gotta defend last year's best costume title.

* Maffitt Trail Race: I miss my occasional off-road adventures, so this should fill that void. It also has a decent chance of being a PR race, because I've never done a five-mile race, and I've only done one 10-mile one.

Either the Iowa Remembrance Run or the Capital Pursuit 5K: These races seem like good settings for PR attempts. If they're on different weekends, then I've got two chances; if they're on the same weekend, like they were in 2013, I have to balance my fondness for what I know I love against the feeling that I should try for variety ...

* Des Moines Half Marathon: ... except sometimes I have no qualms whatsoever about saying "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." If I train in my hilly 'hood and lace up for a flat half marathon, I LOVE my chances of setting another PR.

* Sycamore 8: This is one of the bigger "maybes" on my list. My feet and/or my budget might be tired of running. Or I might just chicken out. This definitely fulfills the urge for variety, and the urge to desire variety as well.

Feel free to weigh in on what I'm missing or what I'm right about!

Upcoming race: Living History Farms Off-Road Race

I feel like I'm officially a Des Moiniac now: I'm registered for this year's Living History Farms race.

For those not familiar with it, it's a seven-mile off-road race that involves costumes, climbing, crossing creeks and apparently dodging farm animals.

Registration is limited and fills up fast; in 2012, it sold out in 36 hours. So I'm going to consider just getting a spot an accomplishment in and of itself.

When I told my boss I was attempting to register, his response was: "Good luck! Do you have clothes you can burn afterwards?"

It's not my first obstacle race, but it's safe to say it'll be the toughest one I've done so far; the Warrior Dash and Olde English Classic were both only 5K. Living History will be the coldest, too — it's Nov. 23, compared with June and early October for the others.

I'm prepared in that I can run more than seven miles and I've dealt with mud and cold water before in runs ... two to three years ago ... but not in the costume department.

I have a team — the usual suspects of Cory, Emily, Zach and Regina — so with five brains, we should be able to come up with something. (My Warrior Dash companion and I totally whiffed on this part, but we were scattered across three states, in our defense.)

Ideally, it would be more run-friendly than the last one I wore in a costume race. And warm. And easily assembled at a low cost ...

This might be the toughest part of the race.

Anyway, despite the race not even being on my radar a few weeks ago, I'm pretty excited about it now.

It's reminding me of RAGBRAI — the buzz about it, the excitement from people who hear you've registered, the camaraderie, the disregard for cleanliness — and it fits perfectly with my goal to shake up my running routine.

The prairie knows

I went back to Rockton, Ill., last weekend, and among the many pleasures of going home is the chance to run old routes that have become unfamiliar after months away.

The Sugar River forest preserves were on my radar, but after traversing the Midwest, my motivation to hop back in the car was fairly low. Our neighbors' prairie path, which they've graciously invited us to use, was far more tempting.

Turns out it was probably best that this urbanite didn't hit the true trails. Nature seemed to sense that a softie was there, ready to be taunted.

If these scratches look insignificant, it's because I took the photo Wednesday, a few days after my Sunday run.

My recent run at Raccoon River Park had reminded me of how lovely it is to run among trees; my runs around West Des Moines' ponds had me trained to dodge animal droppings.

But all this time in the city made me forget how much ducking and weaving one must do in the real wilderness, where prickly plants line narrow walkways.

A little blood did bubble up, and after the stinging stopped, the itching started — the outdoors used to occasionally give me little patches of irritation back in northern Illinois, something I'd nearly forgotten about until the bumps popped up again Sunday.

That's OK. Clearly I survived. I didn't abandon the run, either. I'll just think of it as a warning or preview for the next trail run I do ... especially if that one is the Sycamore 8.

It's been a year since I did the HOBO 10K?

Two Mondays ago, Doug posted about preparing for the HOBO race series: three races over one weekend in the fall — a 10K night run on Friday, followed by a 25K on Saturday and 50K on Sunday — all at Rock Cut State Park.

I did the 10K last year, and I actually think about that night frequently — the postrace part more so than the race, though it was definitely a pleasantly different running experience.

In addition to the fear of being alone in the woods at night, the plans to meet up at my favorite local bar (yeah Olympic!) with friends afterward motivated me to keep moving.  Nothing "Hangover"-esque happened; it was just a bunch of people meeting up for a few beers, but I remember it so fondly because it made living in Rockford feel as best as it ever felt.

My postcollege time in my hometown got off to a prolonged underwhelming start, but by fall 2011 — exemplified by the post-HOBO Olympic drinks — I'd gathered high school friends, work friends, newly made friends, high school friends' college friends, and their co-workers together into a positive that outweighed the negative.

When I thought about this during the more summery weather, it was in the context of "wow, what took four years to build in Rockford has been built in less than four months in Des Moines" — the people I already knew here, the ones I've met since moving and even the ones who don't know me yet always seem game for adding another seat at the table, in the bleachers or at the movie theater.

Back to the HOBO run. Until Doug's preview post, it hadn't dawned on me that nearly a year had passed since that race night; reflecting on it now, it does feel like a year has passed.

And I'm glad it passed. Reaching the HOBO run was a long uphill battle, but it also marked a short plateau that dropped sharply and dramatically over the rest of 2011 and into 2012. Of course — obviously — it turned around just as sharply and dramatically: I wish I could've given the HOBO 10K a second try ... but I'm glad to be in Des Moines instead.

* * *

This post was only marginally about running. If I had made any running breakthroughs since the HOBO run, I would mention them, but unless you count running consistently through the summer — made possible by a new job that lets me be at home at night instead of working at night — it's been fairly status quo.

That's not a slight, though. Maintaining a status quo that is "keep running" for more than three years ain't bad for someone who, as my dad is so fond of saying, could barely be moved to walk down the driveway and fetch the mail as a child.

That also doesn't do justice to the help running was, before and definitely after HOBO 2011: endorphins and stress release, yes; employer-hosted blog that could be added to resume, of course; but most of all, sense of accomplishment — that I'd done something difficult and that I made connections to people through doing it/writing about it.

(Token, non-insightful link to the rest of the post has been stretched to its limit.)

Web wrap-up: July 23 to 29

Runner's World: Treadmill Innovator Bill Staub Dead at 96. I probably would've missed this news, actually, if my boss hadn't mentioned it. (The comment served a dual purpose — one, to inform a known runner of running-related news, and two, to inform a copy editor for a media company of actual news.)

The fact that a man inspired during the 1960s to turn the treadmill — then too expensive for mass consumption — into a home gym staple lived to be 96 should help shut up the "running is bad for everyone's health!" crowd. It's not right for everyone, but it's right for many people ... just like treadmills aren't right for everyone, but they clearly are right for a lot of people.

The Penguin Chronicles: The Trails Less Traveled. John Bingham, a self-described city kid, moved to the country, or at least somewhere a lot more rural, and learned to appreciate trail running. (Though, to be respectful of hard-core trail runners, "groomed multiuse trails" are a little bit different than forest paths. But I digress.)

The opening paragraph shocked me:

"I’m a city kid. I believe in the grandeur of the manmade concrete and steel canyons. Yes, mountains are beautiful, but the gleam of the morning sun off thousands of windows has a beauty all its own."

I'll grant you that there are many kinds of beauty, urban and rural. This might be the Midwesterner in me talking, but who in God's name implies that a whole bunch of windows reflecting light — a natural characteristic of glass — are more impressive than, say, the Rocky Mountains or the Alps?

Anyway, despite thinking this guy is cracked, I kept reading. I was heartened to hear him praise rural sights in a nonpatronizing way, but still, I couldn't help rolling my eyes when he discovered how much nicer shaded trails were during the summer compared with all those glinty windows and all that asphalt.

I must've put my judgy pants on that day, sorry. The rant ends now.

NPR: Summer Science: Clothes Keep You Cool, More or Less. I love exercise-related science, or at least the kind that someone who hasn't taken a science class since 2003 can understand: why your GI tract reacts to running in certain ways, why humidity makes exercising so miserable, etc.

Now, thanks to NPR, I have a much more nuanced view of how to dress for summer exercise. It's not just a matter of wearing as little clothing as possible; the clothes' color and fit, as well as the sun exposure, play a factor.

Miveu-X. My co-worker and friend Ken sent me this link (does that mean I'm getting one for my birthday?). It's a device that straps your smartphone onto your chest so you can record movies from your point of view.

If I did have this, I would most definitely face-plant and break my phone. However, as much as we chuckled over the Miveu-X — and the mental image of my face-planting video — I do have to admit: It looks like a better way to haul my iPhone on a run than the methods I use now.