Hail, Caesar, we who are about to die (or at least be really miserable) salute you!

So like my daughter, yes, that would be the over-educated one who believes a zombie outbreak is possible, told me a year or so ago about this cool train run called The Canary in the Cave. As I recall, she said it involved running down and then up West Virginia's New River Gorge.

I thought that sounded cool, except for the up part. So as a birthday present she signed me up for it. It was only after I was registered that I learned it was a 25K+ course, as in somewhere past 15.5 miles, with the hill coming near the end.

As if that wasn't extreme enough, thanks to a polar inversion, the temperature is going to be in the 20s when we start.

Now, part of the charm of endurance events is the voluntary misery. But this Saturday morning promises to be off the charts.

The Spousal Unit has already requesed that if I die, I not do so at the bottom of the gorge in order to spare others the ordeal of bringing me up.

I'll try to comply, but if it does come to that, someone could just roll me into the New River.

It's as good a way as I can think of to celebrate birthday #56.

Regarding firewood, Sandy, Cheetos and the secrets of my success

Figs in the snow. Photo credit: the Spousal Unit.

Whatever else can be said about 2012 in West Virginia, it's been a good year for firewood. Between last summer's de recho storm and last weeks encounter with Hurricane Sandy, it's laying all over the place.

Speaking of Sandy, while lots of people got it worse, we had a bit of a hit, including heavy wet snow and most of a week without power, water or phone, spiced with transportation/chainsaw issues, falling trees and concerns about rising water. If the Ohio River hadn't been so low due to the late summer drought we might have had some serious flooding.

I wound up celebrating the lights coming back on by taking part in  Darkness Falls, a 7 mile nocturnal trail run. The race course is beautiful in the daylight. In the dark, it was a bit tricky, thanks to Sandy's legacy. The hills are evil by day or night. I think I actually did it a little faster in the dark than when I tried it by daylight.

Here's my secret to the crucial last week of training: lay around in the dark reading a Dylan biography with a head lamp while nursing a bad back, eating Cheetos and drinking box wine. On race day morning,in lieu of carb loading, head to the local greasy spoon for a massive hillbilly breakfast, complete with bacon, eggs, taters, biscuits and gravy. Eat until exhausted. During the race, try to stay on one's feet and not fall in the river.

That's how us elite athletes rock em.

Now you know.

Happy trails

Despite the dry summer and fall (so far) it's a great year for fall colors. And it was a great misty morning for a seven mile trail run through some beautiful terrain. There is something about running on trails that is very different from pounding on roads. For one thing, it imposes a kind of mindfulness meditation on every step you take. For another, you forget about times and miles and enjoy the view. And it really works your core in a different way from road or track running. Next week, I'm hoping to retrace this morning's run in a night time race. Since I  managed to twist my ankle pretty badly in broad daylight on a flat part of the course, I can hardly wait to see what the damage will be next week.

NOTE: Goat Rope readers will get a brief respite from Moby-Dick.

Stand back, y'all. I feel the need to rant about an urgent social justice issue, one that came up in a conversation with the Spousal Unit. To wit, tee shirts for endurance events. I'm not talking about 5Ks or 10ks. I'm talking about going a bit farther, say from 15ks to marathons.

Take a look at the shirt pictured above from a trail run this summer and you will understand this gross injustice. First, let me say that the race was great, well organized and all that. I'd do it again. But did you notice the middle of the shirt? The whole 10/4 thing?!

What the hell?!

Sorry, but there is a huge qualitative difference between capering through 4 miles of trails versus slogging through 10, including some evil hills the other guys never saw. The 4 milers should get their own shirt so that those of us dedicated or dumb enough to run 2.5 times farther will not be confused with them.

Just saying.

The only thing worse than that is a a marathon shirt with small print. I mean, jeez, the whole point of a marathon is to be able to brag about it once you've done it. The whole point of a marathon shirt is to brag to every literate person you run across whether you know them or speak to them or not. If the print is so small that you can't even make out the word "marathon," you might as well have stayed on the couch eating potato chips and drinking beer instead of doing the same thing after running really far.

I have spoken.

MORE BAD STUFF about the Ryan budget from Paul Krugman here.

EVEN MORE BAD STUFF about the same from Dean Baker here.

ODE TO (GORILLA) JOY here.