Puma v. The Press

Today’s post contains bonus coverage of my performance in the Emerald Across the Bay 12k.  Up to this point, you know the results and can kind of deduce what happened in the race by referring back to my riveting summary, “Puma and the Emerald Dragon Who Also Shot Lasers Out of His Eyes,” but you don’t know how I dealt with the public firestorm that followed the race.

Not Pictured: The bald eagle's
battle-axe and machine gun

After watching Puma struggle through the 7.5 mile course, the media vultures began circling.  They all hoped to catch that first glimpse of a Charlie Sheen-like mental breakdown.  However, unlike Carlos Irwin Estevez (seriously, Irwin?), Puma don’t play that game.  Charlie might have Adonis DNA and tiger blood running through his veins, but I have the indomitable spirit of a colossal bald eagle clutching a battle-axe in one talon and a machine gun in another.  Let’s see your Adonis DNA deal with that!

To confront the fallout head on, I called a press conference after turning in the somewhat disappointing result.  It was easy to get all of the reporters there, because each one is a figment of my imagination.  What resulted was one of the most entertaining press conferences of all time.  If I were to rank it, the presser would probably be sitting at #4 right now, behind these little nuggets:

1) Dennis Green

 2) Allen Iverson

3)    Jim Mora

 Here is a transcript from the press conference:

PUMA:  Everyone shut up! If it’s okay with all of you nincompoops, I would like to get this started.  I have a recorded episode of Oprah waiting for me at home, and it's not going to watch itself.  I’ll be calling on the reporters personally.  However, since none of you are important enough to know by name, I will refer to you based on whatever pops into my head first when I see you.

So, let’s begin with you over there in the corner, the one that looks like a potential sex offender.

REPORTER 1 (R1):  Are you talking about me?

PUMA:  (Sarcastically) No, I’m talking to the other guy with the creepy mustache. Of course I’m talking to you, Roman Polanski.  You have a question or not?

R1:  I get a lot of compliments on this mustache.

PUMA:  Look, I don’t care what your Mom has to say about your mustache, buddy. Just ask your damn question.

R1:  You started out the race extremely fast, running the first mile in 6 minutes and 20 seconds.  Was that part of your plan, or do you think you wasted energy?

PUMA:  Well, if you had bothered doing any research on the race instead of grooming that pathetic excuse for a mustache, you would have seen that the first mile is almost completely downhill.  I was just cruising at that speed trying to give myself a cushion going into miles 2 and 3, which would be much slower. 

Next question! Let’s go with you in the front. The woman with the perm.

REPORTER 2 (R2):  I’m a man and I don’t have a perm.

PUMA:  I just call it as I see it, pal.  Ask your question.

R2:  I’m actually pretty offended.  I think you should apologize.

PUMA:  Okay, fine. You don’t actually look like a woman, but you certainly just displayed the emotional fragility of a teenage girl.

R2:  That’s not even close to an apology.

PUMA:  Well, that’s the best you’re going to get, so we might as well move on.

R2:  I’m leaving.

PUMA:  That’s probably for the best.  I think there’s a sale at Forever 21 today.

Let’s see, who’s next…you, Mullet McGee in the back.

REPORTER 3(R3):  I'm actually okay with that one.  You were on your goal pace through the first 4 miles.  What happened? Do you feel like you could have held on to that for a little while longer?

PUMA:  Yeah, I was on pace through the first 4 miles, but miles 2 and 3 proved to be more tiring than expected.  The wind on the Golden Gate Bridge did not help the situation either.  I’m a tall man, so wind is not kind to my masculine physique. 

We have time for a couple more questions, so let’s move on.  You over there, with the bubble butt.

REPORTER 4 (R4):  My name is Janet.

PUMA:  What am I, writing your memoirs?  I don’t care what your name is.  Ask your question.

R4:  Could you give the public some tips, so men and women everywhere can be more like you?

PUMA:   First of all, you will never be me! Second of all, I forgot your question!

Let’s keep this thing moving forward.  The last question will go to skinny Al Roker over there.

REPORTER 5 (R5):  I’ve actually heard that comparison before.  Now that the Emerald Across the Bay 12k has passed in disappointing fashion, what do you have planned next?

PUMA:  Let me answer your question with another question.  SHUT UP!

R5:  That’s not a question.

PUMA:  This press conference is over! (Storms of the stage)

All in all, I think I handled that pretty well.  Next week, Peace With Inches will be back on its typical, Tuesday/Friday schedule.  Upcoming topics include proper running attire and workout playlists.

Puma and The Emerald Dragon Who Also Shot Lasers Out of His Eyes

Well, the Emerald Across the Bay 12k came and went, and it pains me to inform you that I, Puma, was dethroned as the Clydesdale Champion on a stormy Sunday morning.  The damp and windy conditions made for a sluggish day of racing on the Golden Gate Bridge, leading to slow times across the board.  The overall winner of the race finished with a time of 37:36, a full minute and forty-five seconds off the fastest time last year (35:51).  Even the legendary Puma could not tame Mother Nature on this day (Current Score: Puma—71, Mother Nature—3), as my time was 26 seconds slower than last year’s result (53:59).

After the dust settled, I finished 4^th in an extremely competitive Clydesdale Division and 239th overall (out of 2024 official finishers).  This just proves at least three full-bodied competitors were better cheaters than I.  Yet another reason why I’m campaigning for mandatory drug testing before every recreational endurance race.  I’m sick of losing to juiced-up Neanderthals.  Besides, I’m pretty sure I saw the winner of the Clydesdale Division go by on Roller Blades.      

So all in all, it was a day of mixed results and mixed emotions (as a lone tear falls onto a mashed keyboard).  I intended to give a mile-by-mile recap of the race at this point, but ultimately decided that to recount the event in such a manner would be trivial and boring.  Instead, I will now describe my experience at the Emerald Across the Bay 12k as of a Lord of the Rings-stlye fantasy saga:

Puma and The Emerald Dragon Who Also Shot Lasers Out of His Eyes

Puma awoke from his uneasy slumber as the wind and rain pummeled his straw hut.  He gained no respite during the night, for he was consumed by the mighty challenge lying before him.  Soon, the sun would climb over the eastern mountains, and a mighty battle would commence.  

Ok, I know what you're thinking, but it's a lot
easier to draw a lovable dragon.

For too long has the dickish Emerald Dragon known as Twelvekay tormented the kind-hearted-yet-somewhat-snooty inhabitants of Francisconia.  From the flannel-wearing Hipsters of the Mission Province, to the ale-chugging dwellers of the Marina Quarter, all had tasted the unforgiving wrath of Twelvekay.  When the mayhem grew too fierce, the Francisconians begged the mighty Puma, who was a direct descendant of the Clydesdale clan and lived in the far off village of Burlingshire, to slay the fearsome Emerald Dragon.

Now, the day of the battle had finally arrived, and the handsome and brawny Puma thought intensely of the challenge that lies before him.  He took his morning tinkle in ye olde bedpan and then valiantly adorned himself with his magical short-shorts.

…Then some other stuff happened, but it’s boring so I’m going to skip right to the epic fight scene that will make the giant battle in Braveheart look like an episode of Dora the Explorer…

Twelvekay, the dickish Emerald Dragon arose promptly at 8:30am, as the sun continued its ascent in the morning sky.  He bellowed out a loud roar that sounded as if a race official had blown an air horn into a microphone (I might need to work on my similes).  Though a lesser man would have crapped his pants upon hearing that fowl sound, Puma’s magical short-shorts remained free of excrement, for he does not fear dragons, even ones that can, for some unexplained reason that is not critical to the plot of this story, shoot laser beams out of their eyes.

So the two ferocious beings commenced violent and sweaty combat atop the high Fortress of Baker, which is nestled in the hills of Sausalitoland.  Puma, fueled by Skittles and rage charged courageously at the mighty beast.  Twelvekay was momentarily stunned by the boldness and stupidity of his chiseled attacker.  The dragon’s fire-breath and laser-eyes could not stop Puma from delivering a mighty blow into the underbelly of the beast.  The force of this attack caused both Puma and Twelvekay to tumble down the mountainside, ultimately coming to rest at the Sausalitoland coast.  Puma’s energy level was high, and for the first 6:20 minutes of the fight (1 mile marker), he dominated the Emerald dragon like the beast was his prison girlfriend.

Twelvekay, realizing he was outmatched at sea level, struggled free of Puma’s Kung Fu Grip, spread his mighty wings and soared atop the famous Iron Gateway Bridge of Francisconia.  Puma pursued the serpent up a steep and treacherous mountain, slowing his pace in the hopes of conserving energy for the remaining battle.  Once he reached the mountaintop, Puma sprinted onto the bridge, dodging multiple fireballs and laser beams.  As the valiant warrior charged over the sea, the chicken-sh#t Emerald Dragon stayed just out of reach of Puma.  To make things even more difficult for his handsome pursuer, Twelvekay flapped his colossal wings, creating powerful winds that threatened to blast Puma to a watery and shark-infested grave hundreds of feet below.  The difficult climb and gusting winds slowed Puma significantly and robbed him of much energy.  This was especially true since his Skittles-induced adrenalin rush was beginning to wane. 

Pictured from Top to Bottom: The Emerald Dragon, Puma, Puma's Magical Short-Shorts, Sharks
(Picture not drawn to scale)

 

To this point, the legendary combatants had been wrestling (in a non-homoerotic manner) for exactly 28 minutes and had traveled exactly 4 miles.  The Emerald Dragon had successfully weathered the aggressive start by his zealous challenger.  He and Puma were now on a level playing field as the fight continued along the Francisconia coastline.  Twelvekay, realizing that his tall and attractive foe was beginning to fatigue, continuously pelted Puma with molten-fire from his Sarah Jessica Parker-size nostrils and shot laser beams from his wee-beady eyes.  Even though his pace continued to fade, Puma still refused to relent.  He continued to battle with the Emerald Dragon and landed a forceful punch right to the snout of Twelvekay at the 6-mile mark.  Fearing that Puma might be catching a second wind, the massive serpent let out a blood-curdling screech, and rain from the clouds above poured heavily upon the weary fighter.

Still the fight raged on, now spanning over 50 minutes and 7 miles.  Puma, sensing that the end was near, dug deep into his massive onion sack for one last siege of the Emerald Dragon.  Channeling his Clydesdale forefathers, the brave combatant charged violently down the hill above the Fortress of Mason, shaking the ground with his every step.  Twelvekay defensively fired one last blast of fire, but Puma jumped through the wall of flames and landed a flying karate kick to the crotch of the stunned dragon.

Twelvekay let out a high-pitched squeal and fell to the ground.  After 7.5 miles and 54:25 minutes, the dragon looked at the exhausted warrior hunched over beside him, and said “Come on man, that really hurt! Not cool!” (Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that the dragon can talk. That’s pretty important to the conclusion of the story).  He then continued, “Your kung fu is strong, and you’ve proved to be a worthy foe.  We could continue this combat atop a mountain high until the end of time, OOOOOOR we could call it a stalemate and go get some sandwiches.  Maybe even play some ping pong in the game room of my lair.”

Puma raised his battle-worn face, looked squarely into the beady eyes of Twelvekay and said “Okie dokie.  Lead the way.”  Then, as the Emerald Dragon turned his back on Puma, the crafty warrior killed the gullible beast, because draws are for chumps.  The Francisconians let out a thunderous roar as Twelvekay’s lifeless body fell to the ground.  Puma, knowing that his task was finally complete, summoned his noble unicorn, Norbert, and began his long journey back to his humble straw hut.

So Puma did eventually finish his task and defeat the Emerald Dragon, though it was not his proudest victory.  If anyone asks, he will tell them that he killed Twelvekay in self-defense, because he’s pretty sure he saw the dragon reach for a gun. 

YE OLDE END

Puma's Super Confidential Race Strategy...Now Available to the Public!

On Sunday, the Puma will toe the starting line at the Emerald Across the Bay 12k with one isolated and intense thought on his mind…funny-ass kitten videos.  However, after that adorable/hilarious brain wave passes, he’ll then realize a race is about to start, so he better focus (I’m going to stop writing in the third person now, because much like a puppy who sees its reflection in the mirror for the first time, I’m starting to confuse and aggravate myself).

The ground (and the competition)
trembles with their every step.

As noted above, my first race of the year, the Emerald Across the Bay 12k, takes place this weekend.  The race has additional significance this year, because I’m the defending Clydesdale Division (see: “Fatty Race”) Champion.  For those of you who aren’t familiar with the “Clyesdale” term, some races include special (see: better) divisions for larger (see: sexier) competitors.  Men who weigh over 200 lbs. and women who weigh over 150 lbs. can compete in these special divisions.  The men’s division is called the “Clydesdale” division, after the majestic horse that, most notably, pulls the Budweiser delivery cart during Superbowl commercials.  The creators of the women’s category, apparently not wanting to liken their athletes to beer-toting beasts-of-burden, named it the “Athena” division.  It’s definitely appreciated when races recognize the winners of these sub-divisions, because those scrawny elite runners will never truly understand what it’s like to be slowed down by the weight of your own breathtaking awesomeness.

Getting back to the topic at hand, my upcoming race inspired the subject matter of today’s post, which is race preparation and strategy.  

Race Week Training

When Charlton Heston says to
taper, you freakin' taper!

One of the most talked about concepts in endurance running is the pre-race “taper” or the gradual decrease of training leading up to a race.  In the running community, this strategy is devoutly followed as if it were handed down from a burning bush atop Mount Sinai (“Thou shall not toil strenuously upon the eve of a mighty contest.”).

Tapering is usually vital if you want to ensure fresh legs for a competition, but the amount of reduction needed depends on the race.  For a marathon, I’ll start my taper about three weeks prior to the actual competition.  This doesn’t mean I stop running altogether.  Rather, I’ll gradually decrease the volume of running.  For a tune-up 12k (7.5 miles) like this, however, I essentially train through it.  Here is what my training log looks like this week:

DAY	WORKOUT	RESULT
Monday	10 miles @ Easy Pace	1:22:33 min. 8:15 min/mile
Tuesday	Stationary Bike	60 min.
Wednesday	6 miles @ Easy Pace	46:40 min. 7:46 min/mile
Thursday	4 miles @ 12k Race Pace	27:05 min. 6:46 min/mile
Friday	4 miles @ Easy Pace	TBD
Saturday	2 miles @ Easy Pace	TBD
Sunday	RACE DAY (7.5 miles)	TBD

While there is no significant rest building up to Sunday, I’m confident that my body will be fresh and ready to go come Sunday morning.  Besides, I always run a couple miles the day before a race, just to make sure all of the bits and pieces still work.

Pre-race Food

Bagel + Handful of Skittles + Gu Packet = Puma’s recipe for total dominance.

KABLAMO!

You have been warned.

Warm Up

Many people develop pre-race routines that typically include jogging to warm up the muscles, stretching thoroughly, and finally running some striders at race pace to make sure the body is ready.  Sounds boring, huh?

Here’s a checklist of pre-race activities that I typically complete before a competition starts:

• Pretend to be a Race Official and give other competitors directions to the wrong starting point.
• Still dressed as a Race Official, tell competitors that the race was cancelled, and they should expect a full refund in the mail.
• Secretly fill up competitors’ Camelbaks with vodka instead of water.
• Make fellow competitors feel self-conscious about their running motion before the race starts, thus eliminating any confidence they possessed.
• Let competitors cut in line for the bathroom, but then lock them in the Porto-potty once they enter.
• Graciously offer to double knot competitors’ shoelaces for them, but then tie their shoes together instead.

Race Strategy

Last year, I completed this event with a time of 53:59, which is about a 7:14 minute per mile pace.  This year, I’m hoping to run about 2 minutes faster.

My general race strategy is fairly simple.  First, set an ambitious goal. Second, run the first few miles slightly faster than the goal pace. Third, hold on for dear life in the final miles.  If I collapse into the fetal position due to exhaustion (not fear this time) immediately after finishing a race, I consider it a huge success.

In addition to this broad strategy, I also create a specific plan for each race in which I compete.  I formulated this detailed plan with the help of my training partner, the motivational “Adolescent Karate Tortoise”, and my spirit guide, Han Solo (Don’t worry about it; I’ll explain in a later post).   Here is what my mile-by-mile strategy looks like for the Emerald 12k Across the Bay:

Start: Sprint out as fast as I can to get in front of the pack. Then, with the rest of the field behind me, start spinning uncontrollably with my arms extended and yelling “I’m a helicopter! I’m a helicopter!” at the top of my lungs.  It really freaks people out and sets the tone for the remainder of the race.

Mile 1: The first mile is pretty much all down hill, so after performing my patented “Helicopter Maneuver”, I’ll conserve energy for later stages of the race by rolling down the hill.

Mile 2: The second mile is made up of steep switchbacks that eventually lead racers to the pedestrian path of the Golden Gate Bridge.  The Adolescent Karate Tortoise is letting me borrow his grappling hook, so I’ll be taking a more direct route up to the Bridge.

Mile 3:  I’ll be harshly reminded that I'm not all that fond of heights as I battle vertigo running across the Bridge.

Mile 4: Take a brief moment to kiss solid ground once I’m off the bridge.  Hopefully a few competitors will trip over my hunched over body.

This image is self-explanatory

Mile 5: The race continues along the path next to Crissy Field.  Since runners are now at sea-level, it’s perfectly safe to push competitors into the Bay, so let the shoving commence! Endurance running is a full contact sport when Puma is in the race (I’ve been lugging this American Gladiators jousting lance [see: giant Q-tip] around for 5 miles, I might as well start using it!).

Mile 6: Change course markers as I go by them with the goal of misleading the remaining runners (see: slow-pokes) behind me.

Mile 7 to Finish: Run "balls-to-the-walls" until I cross the finish line, all the while yelling “Your shoe's untied!”, hoping to get all the runners around me to momentarily look down, and thus, lose speed as they charge towards the end.

So there you have it.  That’s the current plan of attack heading into this weekend’s race.  Check back in Tuesday for the highly anticipated results post.

P.S.  I forgot to mention that it's important to always check the weather on race day. Sunday's forecast = Rainy with a chance of "Vanilla Thunder" (The name I go by when I ball it up at Harlem's Rucker Park).