Heroes aren't allowed to use asterisks

In college, my summers were defined by running insane amounts of miles and then watching obscene amounts the Tour de France. We'd watch each entire stage as uncut as possible -- not the prime-time coverage geared toward an American audience where they replace the legendary Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen with the Jar Jar Binks-esque comedy relief commentary of Bob Roll. We loved the tour. As cross-country runners I think we found some kinship with another under-appreciated sport that relies more on endurance and pain tolerance than being talented at playing with balls of various shapes and sizes. My first couple summers also happened to be the last of the Armstrong years (not the The Phantom Menance comeback years, but the original "I win everything every time" years).

Even then, we weren't naive. We knew cheating was rampant in sports like running and cycling. I think a part of us always knew that Lance was a cheat, but it was easy enough to bury that thought. To "turn it off, like a light switch". Instead, we chose to be inspired. It was hard not to be. It was an amazing story. A spectacular story of human achievement and triumph against incredible odds. His battles up Alp d'Huez, his ruthless determination in time trials, it was everything that's great about sports. Then you add in the impossible-to-ignore backstory of his battle with cancer and you have something that even Hollywood would scoff at as being wildly unrealistic. Way too good to be true. And I guess that turned out to be the case.

Lance's confession didn't really change anything for me. Maybe it did for some people, but after I heard all the damning evidence that stripped him of his Tour wins and banned him for life from everything except a handful of pumpkin pushes I was firmly in the "Yup, he really did cheat to win all that stuff" crowd. I just wasn't sure how I felt about it all. It was a little more complicated than when someone like Barry Bonds, or Floyd Landis got busted. Lance's victories transcended sports. In some ways he was a super hero. He'd raised millions of dollars in the war against cancer -- surely that's still worth something. And he'd inspired countless cancer patients, families and anyone-with-a-heart. You can't un-inspire people after the fact. Right?

The truth is that I still don't know. Surely some of the things that Lance did, despite the cheating, are still inherently good. But undoubtedly the story is ruined. It was too good to be true. I think we all wanted to believe in Lance because we wanted to believe that through some combination of hard work and perseverance we can all "beat cancer". But that's not reality. The story, that we all wanted so badly to believe, was a lie.

You can say that since everyone was cheating, it was a level playing field and Lance is still a champion. There might even be some truth to it. But it doesn't change the fact that our hero was a cheater, and a liar, and a jerk. The story is ruined. The athletic accomplishments are still impressive. But the story is ruined. Trying to rationalize why we should still admire, respect, or even care about Lance Armstrong is just a symptom of wanting to hold onto a fabrication. It would've been really cool if the Lance saga we all wanted to believe was true. But it's not.

So while the things Lance did on a bike are still unquestionably impressive. And he's still one of the greatest athletes of my lifetime, he's no longer a hero. Heroes aren't allowed to have asterisks next to their accomplishments. Or be ego-maniacal cheating bullies -- that's like rule number one in the hero handbook. My Livestrong band, that I didn't take off for years, not even for my wedding pictures, is now in the garbage. The worst part is thinking about all the careers he's ruined. Anyone who ever questioned his legitimacy was ruthlessly attacked and dragged through the mud. That's the stuff that is truly unforgivable. Lance's lies went beyond just cycling. He destroyed people off the bike in the same way he did in the Alps. And I don't see how anyone can still respect him after that. I certainly don't.

The Fire, explained

If there's one quality I want in my sports heroes, it's The Fire. I mentioned it in my (maybe) slightly over-critical critique of Manning and Fox following the Broncos playoff loss to Baltimore last week. How in the late 90s there was more to John Elway than just quarterback rating and completion percentage. He had The Fire. By it's very nature, I think The Fire can't be explained without seeing it. So here are a few clips that jumped to mind when I was trying to think of times I'd seen it.

1) Eddie Johnson scores vs the Colorado Rapids.

Context: Seattle was on a franchise record, nine game winless streak. We were desperate for a win. After going up 1-0 over Colorado, Johnson had a handful of questionable calls not go his way. It really felt like even the ref was going to do everything he could to keep Johnson from scoring. Yeah, that's a totally homer biased view, but I that's what it felt like in the stadium. In a season where we lost too many coin flips to count -- both figuratively and literally -- it was hard not to wonder if maybe we were going to get screwed yet again. But at the same time Eddie was playing with a inspiring intensity. Our pessimistic view of inevitable disappointment was contradicted by this unshakable feeling that a Johnson goal was inevitable. That nothing was going to stop him. 

Finally in the 64th minute the goal came. With an eff you jersey toss and crazed took on his face, there's no question. He had The Fire. The goal would end up being a game winning one.

2) Chris Wondolowski leads San Jose to an amazing comeback vs Portland
Context: Now, keep in mind these are two of my five most hated teams of any sport. But The Fire of Chris Wondolowski is undeniable here (and most of the season, really). San Jose was down 0-2 vs Portland in the 73rd minute. They'd had a handful of scoring opportunities but just hadn't quite put the ball in the net. After Wondolowski scored in the 73rd minute there seemed to be no way Portland would hold on to the win. I think that inevitability is a key feature of The Fire. Things don't always work out (for instance, Russel Wilson clearly had The Fire on Saturday and a Seattle comeback seemed inevitable, but we all know how that turned out). But seriously, just look at Wondo's body language after that first goal, and again after the second. He was going to do everything humanly possible, and maybe even a more, to bring his team back. I was actually shocked they only managed to tie it, if they'd had a couple extra minutes there's no doubt they would have won 3-2.


3) John Elway "The Dive"
Context: John Elway was 37 years old, 0-3 in the Super Bowl and finally had a chance at getting the monkey off his back in Super Bowl XXXII against the Green Bay Packers. This drive, and this play optimize what I'm talking.  When a player's desire to win overshadows everything else in the game. This was a key 3rd down play during a 92 yard touchdown drive. Elway needed to make the play with his feet and then his whole body as he dove for the first down. What 37 year old quarterback could you imagine doing that? Manning? Never. Maybe Favre toward the end, but odds are he'd opt for the game-ending interception instead. But seriously, just watch this play and look at Elway after he picks up the first down. That's what I'm talking about. I still get goosebumps watching this play.


My point here is that there's more to sports than the stat sheets and you need to see it to understand. That's not to say Tebow will end up being am amazing NFL quarterback because he has all these intangibles that overshadow a complete lack of fundamental talent. No, you need to be talented for sure. But not all goals are created equal. And some eight yard runs are a bigger deal than others. There's a reason sports (and The Bachelor) are the only thing left that's worth watching live. Because to really understand what happened, you need to see it and experience it. Even retrospectively it loses something.

Don't be a candy-ass

There is only one real Favinger house rule: don't be a candy-ass. It came about while we were playing Wits and Wagers (google it) and didn't want people to just sit on a big chip lead and ride it out to a slow but sure win. That's no fun for anyone and it's total candy-assery. So if you come to our place for any kind of board game night, New Years Eve party, or anything else. Remember, don't be a candy-ass.

There's plenty blame to go around for Denver's embarrassing performance against Baltimore yesterday. Manning only did "Manning-Things" for like a drive and a half and threw the back-breaking interception in overtime. Champ Bailey looked old, slow, and even older. Miller and Dumervil were a non-factor the entire game (some credit goes to Baltimore offensive line of course). Really, our entire secondary was absolutely pathetic. How do you give up a hail-mary with under a minute left in the game? That's the one and only thing you should be defending against! If there's ever a reason to play prevent defense it's when Joe Flacco has 55 seconds and no timeouts to go 70 yards for a touchdown. What. The. Hell. Was. Everyone. Thinking?

But that's okay. It happens. It shouldn't ever happen, but I can accept that players have horrible games sometimes (it's just too bad when 75% of the defense has an off day on the same day and that day happens to be the divisional round of the playoffs). So don't get me wrong, I blame all of them. But I also really blame John Fox and Peyton Manning for being candy-asses and breaking my one and only house rule.

With 1:21 left in the second quarter the Broncos faced a 4th and 8 from the Baltimore 34 and attempted and missed a 52 yard field goal. Baltimore took over and quickly marched down the field and set up a 32 yard touchdown pass to Torrey Smith. Under ideal conditions, I can understand trusting Prater with a 52 yard field goal. But when it's freakin' freezing, with a head wind, and a beat up field, why not just attempt a 4th and 8 from there? A conversion gives you a decent shot at setting up a touchdown and at the very least, a much more reasonable field goal. And on a failed 4th down attempt, at least you don't give Baltimore a free 10 yards like they did by botching the field goal. Maybe the numbers say kicking was the best bet. I don't know. But when you're a heavy favorite, playing at home, and Peyton Manning is your quarterback, grow some balls and go for the jugular.

However, the decision that really killed me was the choice run on 3rd and 7 with 2:00 left in the game. Most people disagree with me on this one I think. By running it, you can punt with 1:15 left and Baltimore out of timeouts. All you have to do is stop the big play. But it just felt wrong. It was a lot like something Elway faced in the 1997 playoffs. Similar circumstances, different decision. In the 1997 AFC Championship game, Denver faced a 3rd and 5 from their own 15 with 2:00 left in the game and Pittsburgh out of timeouts. I guess the key difference is that they were only up by three and a punt puts Pittsburgh a handful of completions out of field goal range. But still, a run brings the clock down to 1:15 and forces Kordell Stewart to win the game -- someone who'd already thrown three picks and lost a fumble. Not exactly a Joe Flacco going up against a secondary who'd been getting their asses kicked all day.

But you know what Elway did? He went outside of the playbook, designed a slant to Sharpe and threw a game clinching 18 yard completion. I don't know whether Fox or Manning made the final decision to run the clock rather than go for the win, but it was a candy-ass call. Seven yards wins you the game. Seven yards from victory formation, a couple kneels and a trip to the AFC Championship game. An incompletion gives Flacco an extra 40 seconds... so what? I'd think with one of the best quarterbacks to ever play the game, you'd have enough confidence to gain seven yards and seal the win. That's what John Elway did. And that's why Elway really is one of the best to ever play the game. The stat sheets don't show the fire: not just the willingness to takes risks, but the confidence that you can make the play and win you the game. Elway played to win. Manning and Fox played to not lose. There's more than a semantic difference there.

I re-watched Super Bowls XXXII and XXXIII last week. Old-Manning is a better pure passer than Old-Elway. There's no question about that. But Old-Elway had the fire that was completely absent from Old-Manning and candy-ass Fox yesterday. He was a man on a mission during those final two years. It's one of those things that you have to see to understand. It's why people are saying Manning chokes in the playoffs. Not because he's somehow responsible for the Denver defense giving up four million points to a shitty quarterback. But because he didn't do the things that you'd expect a first ballot hall of famer to do. Things like converting a 3rd and 7 to win a game. Or even trying to.

Now a Jogger

I'm sure everyone's experienced something like this. One night you get suckered into watching The Bachelorette, partially against your will. Maybe your girlfriend or wife talked you into it, or maybe you're just home alone on a Monday with half a bottle of wine and you figure, "why not?". You start off watching it sort of ironically, making fun of how ridiculous it is and how desperate and insane the cast members are. But then you end up watching it again the next week. And the week after that. Before you know it, it's the season finale and you're yelling at your TV, "I can't believe Emily chose Jef with one eff, that will never work!"

That's sort of how this year of running has worked out for me. In the beginning, I did it partially as a joke. I hated almost every mile of it but could at least laugh at myself and the fact that a little four miler felt like I was actually getting a workout in. But toward the end of the year things started to change a little bit. I wouldn't say I enjoyed running any more, just that I couldn't imagine not doing it. It wasn't an addiction the way it was when I was running 135 miles per week. But I liked the way it made me feel, I liked the fact that some of the muscles in my legs were finally visible after four years of hibernating beneath a layer of fat, and I liked that I actually had a butt again. I liked that on a week when I got way off pace I could bang out a 16 miler fairly easily. Sure, I was sore the next couple days, but doing something like that would've been next to impossible a year ago. Despite only running 25-30 miles per week, I was doing it consistently enough to kind of, sort of, maybe get in shape a little bit. It wasn't race shape or anything like that. But it was the kind of in shape that a healthy twenty-something should want to be.

It was a silly goal and I know there are hundreds of turkey trot champions out there who dwarfed my mileage this year. But when I ran my 1,380th mile on Saturday morning, I felt a genuine sense of accomplishment. Running 25-30 miles per week wasn't hard. I never thought it was going to be a very physically demanding goal, just that it would require consistency. Consistency in doing something that I didn't particularly want to do. In the entire year, I'd say there were only a handful of runs that I legitimately enjoyed and almost none that I looked forward to when I woke up in the morning. Running's just not my thing anymore. I know that some people love it, I know that I loved it at one point in my life, and there are even still things about it that I love. But one thing that never got much easier as the year went on was getting out (and staying out) the front door. And I think that's okay. Maybe even a good thing.

I think there's a benefit in sticking with something like this and forcing yourself to do it, day after day. The cliche that it "builds character" is true. One of the most important lessons to learn is life is about delayed gratification. In the era of iPhones, iPads, YouTube, and Hulu+. There's almost always something you'd rather be doing than what you should be doing. The motto of "do what you love and the money will come" is bullshit when what you love is watching TV, eating pizza, and drinking beer. No, I think it's much more important to do what you find rewarding and satisfying. And as crazy as it sounds, I found becoming an extremely mediocre recreational jogger to be wildly satisfying. And a lot of that had to do with forcing myself to get my little runs in every week. Even when I didn't want to, even when it was raining, even when I could think of a million things I'd rather be doing. There was a benefit to all of that, outside of becoming a so-so jogger, I think it made me a little bit of a better person. Obviously, I'm still the reacher and Jenny's still the settler in our relationship, but I closed the gap just a little bit. Umm, on second though, the gape probably widened. Jenny's becoming a doctor and working an ungodly number of hours, that's got to be way harder than jogging around the block a few times per week and patting yourself on the back like you're Flyod Landis George Hincapie Lance Armstrong Galen Rupp.  But still. (See what you've done Lance, I now have to reference Rupp as my go-to American athlete who did something really inspirational on a world stage).

Before we get to my New Year resolutions for 2013, let's go over some quick stats about this year:

Total mileage: 1,380.31 miles

Total runs: 260 (an average of 5.3 miles per run)

Longest run: 17.86 miles

Shortest run: 2 miles (I wouldn't count anything less than 2 miles as a real run)

So what's the plan of 2013?

Well, I decided to make this whole resolution/improving myself as a human being thing permanent. Each year, I will complete all previous resolutions and add a new one. So in 2013, I will run 1,380 miles again, but I will add a new goal: Read 26 books and write 26 blog posts. There's a little more wiggle room with this resolution because books can vary considerably in length, but I'll honor the spirit of the resolution without necessarily setting specific requirements about page length, quality of book, etc. I'm sure I'll read some short ones and some that are longer. The goal is basically to consistently be reading something the whole year. And the blog posts goal is a way to actually get me to update this thing. I really enjoyed writing about my jogging adventure at the start of the year but quickly lost steam when I ran out of ways to say "I used to be really good -- well kind of, and now I'm just a jogger and it's sort of silly but also fun in a weird way". So this year, I'm no longer going to pretend that this blog is about running or jogging or anything in particular. I'll talk about whatever I feel like. It's safe to say there will be ample supply of Denver Bronco and Seattle Sounder posts. Probably a couple stories from back when I was a real runner, and maybe even a post or two about whatever books I read.

So that's that. Thank you to everyone who took an interest in my mini-comeback this year. I enjoyed hearing from you, it was nice to know that there are some people who would actually hold me accountably if I slacked off and didn't reach the coveted 1380 mark!

The adventure begins again on Tuesday!

Happy Holidays.

The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows

Last night ranks number two in my sports-heartbreak hall of fame. Right behind the 1996 Denver Broncos. You'd think that being 27 years old instead of 11, and having a little more perspective on things and the relative importance of sports -- or lack thereof -- would make it hurt a little less. But it doesn't. Perspective doesn't help with these kinds of things. Not really anyway. I didn't cry like I did in '96, but I wanted to. All the emotions were there. The feeling that this wasn't supposed to happen. Questioning why things ended the way that they did. The feelings might be illogical, but they're completely authentic. If you're a sports fan, you get it.

What made last night especially gut-wrenching was that we really, truly could have won. And that's the worst way to lose. After the first leg a week ago, we had a mountain to climb, a three goal deficit to overcome. But we could have done it. From the kickoff, you could tell that the team was playing with a fire and an intensity that LA simply couldn't match. We wanted it and we wanted it badly. When Eddie scored early (and then scored again since the first one didn't count), the feeling started to spread throughout the stadium that maybe, just maybe there was hope. You could see it with the players too. Zakuani played the best game of his career -- broken leg be damned -- blazing down the wings, beating defenders one-on-one and creating opportunity after opportunity. Ozzy proved that, contrary to popular belief, honey badgers can freaking fly. He dominated the entire midfield, trouncing Keane and Beckham countless times and sending them crying to the referee. We played with heart, and desire, and determination. Surely it would pay off. It had to.

When Zach Scott scored off a spectacular diving header in the 57th minute, the stadium went ballistic. No longer was the comeback just a pipe dream, it was destiny. Everywhere you looked, you could sense it. Something special was happening. This would be one of those games that they talk about years from now. Whenever a team needs a miracle comeback, they'll mention the 2012 Seattle Sounders and say "anything is possible". I remember running through the narrative in my head. Revenge Tour 2012. Real Salt Lake -- defeated. Los Angeles Galaxy -- defeated. Houston Dynamo -- defeated. All our playoff demons exorcised. I contemplated where this game would rank in my all time sports moments. It wasn't a championship, so it couldn't beat out the 1997 Broncos. But it would be every bit as memorable. I would never forget this game, where I was or how I felt. And then, everything was ripped away.

In the 68th minute, Robbie Keane had some space down the left hand side and Johansson ran him down to defend. Keane tried to cross it but Johansson sent it out for a corner. Except instead of taking the ball to the corner, everyone headed to the edge of the box. It was a penalty. A soul-crushing, earth-shattering penalty kick. From where we were sitting, there was no way to see whether the ball bounced of Johansson's face, his hand, or whether it even hit him at all. I've been told it could have gone either way. Not un-callable, but not blatant either. Personally, I haven't been able to bring myself to watch the replay. What's the point? Maybe if that call and the incorrect off-sides call on Eddie go the other way, we end up winning the series -- probably we end up winning the series. But they didn't go our way, and that's sports. That's life, really. If you don't win in a knock-out and you leave it up to the judges, there are no guarantees. It sucks and it hurts and it's unfair, but it's over. No, that doesn't mean we have to get over it right now, or tomorrow, or next week. But it means we can't change the outcome and eventually we'll need to move on.

Before the game, the Sounders front office played a montage of inspirational sports movie speeches. Something to get people motivated and hopeful for the game. They ended with a great quote from the last Rocky movie: 

The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It is a very mean and nasty place and I don’t care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. 

But it ain’t about how hard you hit; it’s about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward. It’s how much you can take, and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done. 

Now, if you know what you’re worth, then go out and get what you’re worth. But you gotta be willing to take the hits, and not point fingers and blame other people. Cowards do that and that ain’t you. You’re better than that.

Classic corny movie cliche to the letter, but no less true. I've been a sports fan for as long as I can remember. And in all my seasons of watching, caring, crying, and cheering, I've had two seasons not end with some kind of disappointment. But honestly, I wouldn't trade those experiences for anything. Heartbreak and all. A sports cynic might say it's silly to care so much about sports, but I'd hate to know what it's like to not care.

Eternal Blue Forever Green.

Mile High Manning Miracle

You know how in college, when you’re forced to drink cheap crappy beer, you find a way to talk yourself into it. “Busch Light’s not so bad -- it gets the job done and comes in packs of 30, what more do you need?” You put blinders on, play some beer pong, and ignore the fact that what you’re drinking tastes like dog urine. It’s a survival technique. It hurts too much to admit that there are people out there sipping on delicious Sierra Nevada while you’re shot-gunning PBR to wash down a shot of Jose Cuervo.

That’s what it was like being a Bronco fan this past year. We were drunk on our Natty Ice, refusing to admit that even though it got the job done, our mouths tasted like piss and our quarterback was a hideous passer whose team hit a hot streak during the weakest part of their schedule, then beat a crippled Steelers team to make what should have been a disappointing season into a memorable bright spot in an otherwise depressing decade of football. But still, it was one hell of a season. I had a great time watching Tebow flail around for three quarters and then somehow force Marion Barber to fumble and empower Matt Prater to hit two 50 yard field goals to complete improbable comeback after improbable comeback. It was entertaining, exciting, but ultimately unsustainable.

When it looked like we’d be stuck with Tebow for the foreseeable future, I tried to talk myself into it: “If he can just learn how to throw, he’ll be like a 280 pound Michael Vick who thumps bibles instead of kills dogs.” It was hopeful thinking, but it’s what you do when you have no other option. You ignore the fact that quarterbacks are supposed to learn how to throw when they’re 12 years old playing Pop-Warner football, not when they’re a professional athlete making millions of dollars. Throwing is a fundamental skill, not a neat perk you hope they’ll pick up as they get more NFL experience.

But now the 30 bomb of Busch Light has been replaced by an ice cold sixer of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. And I’ll gladly take six good beers over 30 shitty beers any day. It’s amazing how fast I was able to sober up. Last week when the Manning-Bronco rumors started leaking out, I was scared to get my hopes up. But as soon as the news broke this morning, I was instantly on board, rationalizing how a 36 year old quarterback who’s had at least four neck surgeries over the last year will lead us to a Super Bowl. Remember, Elway was older and had been sacked eleventy-million more times than Manning the last time the Broncos won a Super Bowl.

It’s true, there’s no guarantee that Manning will even be able to finish a full season. His neck might flare up again and we could be starting Adam Weber by week six (who the hell is Adam Weber?). But there was never a guarantee that Tebow would complete more than four passes in a game. Plus, Manning’s upside is miles higher than Tebow’s. Would it be that unreasonable for him to come back at 90% of his 2010 self? Maybe his completion rate drops a couple points, and he throws an extra interception or two over the course of the season. But he’s still going to have his unparalleled ability to read defenses, change plays at the line of scrimmage, and his nearly flawless decision making. If there’s one quarterback who brings the most to the table outside of pure physical ability, it’s Peyton Manning. So much of what makes him one of the greatest of all time goes on in his head, and a handful of neck surgeries won’t change that.

But really, stats and hypotheticals aside, I know this is a big day as a Bronco fan because of the number of people who came up to congratulate me at work. Typically, you congratulate coworkers for getting engaged, having a kid, or winning the office March Madness pool. Apparently, you can add “having your favorite team sign one of the best quarterbacks of all time” to that list. Awesome.

I know it sort of sounds like I'm bashing Tebow a little too much for someone who previously hosted a Tim Tebow fansite that he was trying to pass off as running blog. I don't mean for it to come off that way. Tebow will always have a place in my heart. Like I said, he gave me my favorite football season since the Elway era, and I won't soon forget that. But objectively, he's bad quarterback. His intangible inspiring irrationality was probably what the Broncos needed last season when things seems particularly hopeless but there’s a reason that despite their record, the Broncos were dismal in every other statistical category. They weren’t a good team and bad teams can fake it for a while. However, it’s unlikely that they could have faked it for an entire season in 2012. So I’m happy to hang up my Tebow jersey. It was a great run, but it’s time try to actually win a Super Bowl. On the running front, let’s update things after two weeks of uneventfulness:

Sunday (3/4): 3.43
Monday (3/5): 4.1
Tuesday (3/6): 2
Wednesday (3/7): 4.1
Thursday (3/8): 4.1
Friday (3/9): 4.1
Saturday (3/10): 8.2
Total: 30.03
Sunday (3/11): 4.71
Monday (3/12): 4.1
Tuesday (3/13): 2
Wednesday (3/14): 4.22
Thursday (3/15): 4.27
Friday (3/16): 4.1
Saturday (3/17): 8.2
Total: 31.6

I really want to up the mileage to like 35ish by getting in another 8+ day during the week and maybe going 10 on Saturday. But daylight savings has destroyed any chance of me getting up even earlier to run in the morning. It was finally light outside for the majority of my run, and besides the fact that running sucks and I hate it, my morning runs weren’t too bad. Now it sucks, I hate it, and I can’t see anything. Bummer. At least we got Peyton Manning.

Blah Blah Blog

Quick update because I didn't post a self-indulgent memoir from the glory days last week.

Sunday: 5.29
Monday: 4.1
Tuesday: 0
Wednesday: 4.1
Thursday: 4.1
Friday: 4.22
Saturday: 8.2
Total: 30.01

I'd like to bump up the mileage over the next couple weeks, mostly because I want to get back on schedule. I'm now 42.25 miles off pace and that gap will evaporate quickly if I can bang out a few 35-40 mile weeks. I'm thinking about not taking a day off anymore and going for an easy two or three miles instead. If I'm lazy or tired, I'll still let myself sleep in, but there's really no reason to take a day off just for the sake of taking a day off. We'll see. Better blog post coming this week, I was out of town last weekend