Yay! Kids!

Word from Washington, D.C. is that the great Ian MacKaye famous for his work with Minor Threat, Egg Hunt, Fugazi and The Evens, and the equally great Amy Farina, a Pennsylvanian known for her work as a drummer for Ted Leo & the Pharmacists, The Warmers and The Evens, are proud parents of a baby boy. According to reports, young Master Carmine Francis Farina MacKaye checked in last Saturday night. Is this like tennis greats Andre Agassi and Steffi Graf having a child together?

Actually, it's better.

Anyway, the day my boys were born the first song they ever heard sung was written by MacKaye. It goes like this.

Or this.

Meanwhile, back in Philadelphia, the great Cynthia Weiss known for her work as the vice president of marketing at SportsNet, and David St. Clair, half of the brains behind the artistes at D&D Interactive Inc., celebrated the birth of their second daughter early Monday morning. Madeline Belle St. Clair joins her big sister Lucy in making tons 'o fun for their parents.

To infinity and beyond!

Today my soon-to-be four-year old told me: "Baseball is boring." I have to admit that I'm beaming at pride with the intelligence of the boy. After all, he's only ever attended one Major League game (Phillies vs. Rockies at Coors Field in July of 2005), he has never seen a Grapefruit League game and hasn't had to watch a team grind the season to a close when its 10 games out in Septmeber. So in that regard he seems to be ahead of the curve. Baseball's potential blandness is evident in his unwired brain.

His dad, on the other hand, hasn't yet figured it out. After trying to sell the kid on watching the ballgames from Cincinnati in a frozen moment in time that would surely look just like something Norman Rockwell would conjure on a canvas[1], I gave up. If the kid believed Buzz Lightyear and piles of Legos were more interesting than the Phillies vs. Reds, I wasn't going to argue. It was a lose-lose situation all around and forcing matters would only make it worse, I reasoned. Besides, I have to choose my battles wisely. Let the kid watch Buzz and play with Legos...

So off I went to find another TV to catch a few innings before we rolled down to the Baltimore touristy spots for another Rockwell moment.

"Baseball is boring," the kid taunted as I trudged upstairs to sit in front of the TV by myself.

Clearly the kid didn't get to watch Brett Myers face the Reds on Sunday. There was nothing boring about that particular outing. Are fireworks displays boring? How about watching a chimpanzee attempt to button up an Oxford shirt? Even though the monkey doesn't have opposable thumbs, nor does he look all that stylish in a button-down shirt (though that Lancelot Link was pretty smooth), you still sit there watching with the belief that he'll figure it out.

No such luck.

Against the Reds for a couple of innings Myers' lead shoulder seemed to fly open like a screen door on a windy day every time he threw his fastball. But when he threw his breaking pitches Myers' delivery was more efficient and precise. Look, the only thing I ever really knew about pitching in baseball is that I had no shot at hitting it. Besides, I was just a guy who was about to load up the family truckster and drive an hour to the so-called "Charm City" in order to stare at some fish like a slack-jawed yokel. But I know what I saw in the second inning of the Reds-Phillies game on Sunday.

And if I saw it, what did the Reds see?

Anyway, Myers' line (5 IP, 8 H, 4 ER, 3 BB, 2 HR) wasn't too good, though he says his stuff was improved from his first outing of the season. In that one, Myers also lasted just five innings and gave up four runs. He didn't give up any homers, but said his fastball and curve were, "crap." Yet despite Myers' thoughts that his fastball was located better in his second outing than during the Opening Day loss, skipper Charlie Manuel wasn't so sure.

As the manager told the scribes in Cincy:

"I'm sure he wants to pitch the best he possibly can, but in his last two outings, I've seen him have much better stuff, let's put it like that. I've seen better velocity on his fastball. He was throwing breaking balls, splits, a change-up every now and then, mixing his fastball in, but he didn't have the velocity or the command on his fastball that he usually has."

Needless to say, it won't be boring to see how Myers pitches during his next outing on Friday night against the Cubs.

It also won't be boring to watch the Phillies and Mets go at it for three games at Shea starting tomorrow.

Other observations:

• Pat Burrell (3 HR, 9 RBI, .435 BA) is off to a nice start.
• The Phillies have not had a winning record in April since beating the Mets on April 18, 2005 to improve to 7-6.
• It was fascinating to listen to Gary Matthews and Tom McCarthy talk about Cincinnati's The Freedom Center and the regions' role in the Underground Railroad during Saturday afternoon's broadcast. It wasn't quite like eavesdropping on a conversation between National Parks guides who were talking shop, but it was damn close.
• Less fascinating was Harry Kalas' insistence on calling the Reds' Norris Hopper, "Dennis Hopper."But, truth be told, Dennis Hopper would be a fun addition to a Major League Baseball club. Actually, Hopper's Frank Booth from Blue Velvet, would blend right in to any clubhouse.
• Speaking of Dennis Hopper and apropos of nothing, a few years ago I had a dream that the Phillies fired then manager Larry Bowa and replaced him with Larry David. A few of the players that I told this to said it would have been a good move.
• Last year's top draft pick Joe Savery made his debut for Single-A Clearwater last Thursday and it went fairly well. The lefty allowed just three hits and no runs in five innings with seven strikeouts. However, he did walk five.
• The final home opener at Shea Stadium is tomorrow.

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[1] I've said it before and I'll say it again: the old David Letterman bit on the "lost" Rockwell paintings always kills me - "Turn Your Head and Cough." It never gets old.

Here we come

There won't be any new posts for this spot today so that means you have to go find some ramblings of a lunatic elsewhere. For my lunacy moment I'll read about the scolding a presidential candidate took for not eating a cheesesteak on his visit to Philadelphia. Here, I'm going to say it:

Is there anything more overrated than the cheesesteaks in Philadelphia?

There.

Anyway, there is nothing new coming today because it's the kids and me all day long. Close up your stores, Mr. And Mrs. Shop Owner, because the Finger Boys are coming. You'll know by the constant loop of Thin Lizzy songs playing as a veritable soundtrack to our day.

So while the baseball team heads to Cincinnati, here's today's itinerary for our gang:

7:30 - wake up 7:45 - coffee 8:00 - general goofing around on your own 9:00 - run 11:30 - Yes, it's on! 8:00p - Bed time

We're thinking about heading out to the Strasburg Rail Road where we might sit around and throw rocks at the trains. On the way out to the country we might hit the Lancaster Central Market, too. Maybe we'll go to one of the book shops, but I don't know if we'll have enough time.

Ward Cle[a]ver has nothing on me.

Does Nyquil count as doping?

They say the body is at its weakest when it is tired. Stress levels rise, energy dwindles and those nasty parasites find a host. They dive in and treat your body like a roadside motel off the state highway. The good part is those unwanted guests will move on. But the bad part is they will go when they damn well please.

Actually, I don't know if "they" say that at all, but it sounds right. The reason why it sounds right is because one night I stayed up way too late, didn't get the proper amount of rest and then the next thing I knew, I was coughing and wheezing and squeezing my temples as hard as possible with my fingertips.

I blame my kids. Yeah, that's right I said it. I know they're little and are unwitting victims of every germ, virus and mutant strain that passes from snotty nose to hand to mouth as the veritable bacteria frappes that they are, but whatever. They made me sick. It wasn't the other way around.

How do I know? Well, I guess I don't. I am neither a physician nor have I visited with a medical professional during the past six months1]. But I am damn sure that I would have been properly rested and strong, thus making me less susceptible to injury and ailment had I been in bed at 5 a.m. instead of trying in vain to help a little boy with an ear infection fall asleep. That's no easy task based on what we know about the human ear. That is where we seem to find our balance or equilibrium, if you will, and if that delicateness is disturbed the entire system falls apart.

So any time the little guy put his head onto the pillow, all the fluid and garbage floating around in those narrow canals floated to-an-fro and clogged up pathways for other important signals. As a result, the poor kid was up screaming and I was up just trying to help him keep it together, which is about all anyone can do when spectating at an old-fashion ear event. Sympathy is for suckers.

As a result I picked up a headache and a chest could/cough that is more annoyance than illness. The baby brother got the coup de grace - a double ear infection, as they call it in the biz. Combine that with a stuffed nose and the baby doesn't know whether he's coming or going.

Nevertheless, I've been curiously lucky enough to get in my workouts despite the madness at the house. Except for Monday, when I was simply flat-out whipped from sitting with the kids all night and day, I was able to get out and put in the regular amount of training that has become the norm over the past few weeks. In fact, a few of the days I even went out twice.

How about that?

That's a funny thing within itself, I have to admit. Though I never revealed it anywhere else, my guideline for training was to do two weeks "on" and one week "off." During the so-called "on" weeks the plan was to pile on as many miles, hills and whatever else I could and see where I was at the end of the week. For an "on" week, there is no ceiling. However far I can go, that's the workout.

There are limits, of course. My recovery time is different than the good runners in the country simply because I don't have the support of a sponsored athlete. I can't get a daily massage because there is work to take care of, bills to pay and the agony of an earache to rubberneck. Plus, massages cost money. So do shoes, and food and drinks and ice. That means more work on top of work, which makes me no different than anyone else...

Aside from those two-a-days, of course.

Anyway, since I was last heard from here, the work has been steady. So too has the rattling in my chest and the pounding against my temples.

The self-indulgent running stuff is here

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[1] The dentist doesn't count, does it? If so, everything is ruined. I went to the dentist a few weeks ago. Everything looked good, I was told. Crooked, but clean.

More hours in the day, please...

People who can juggle kids, jobs and running with calculated efficiency, always amaze me. Those folks who can get up at 5 a.m. in order to get a run in at 6 so they can be finished in time to get the kids out the door by 8 are Supermen and women.

(right: The Breakfast of Champions.)

Even better, some of them even add a second run at the end of the day or during a lunch break. It really is very amazing.

I can’t do it. Even when I didn’t have a real job, a mortgage, bills, kid, etc., I was never one who got up early. Before I actually began writing about baseball and sports I kept “baseball hours.” That means if I get to bed before 2 a.m. I must be sick or really tired or something.

Because of this schedule and lifestyle, racing is often difficult since they are usually held early in the morning. In order to race, I have to make a real commitment to a particular event and then make sure I’m in bed or horizontal very, very early – for me. Nevertheless, the day before a marathon I make sure I’m finished walking for the day at 5 p.m. and in bed at 8.

The rest is just that important. I never realized that until I went to race a couple of months ago and just couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t able to get loose or run the way I had been in workouts. When I expressed this to my wife she smartly told me why I was slow on that particular day.

“You got up in the middle of the night to run. You’re usually asleep at the time the race started so you intentionally got yourself up in the middle of your natural sleep time to run. You were tired.”

She’s very smart.

Fortunately, I have the luxury working out when I am well rested. My wife is to thank for that. While I keep my baseball hours, she keeps her schoolteacher hours. That means she is up by 6 a.m. even on days when she can sleep in. But she’s always been that way, I’m told. So while she tends to our son and gets him ready for school, I ease into the morning. I can get all the sleep I need, wash up, get my coffee, do a few hours of work and then start my workout. Afterwards, I pick up the boy and we wait for her to get home.

It definitely works out well for me.

But today’s schedule had a bit of a monkey wrench throw into it. There was no school for the boy, which meant an extra-early wake up call for me. Usually this means I have to start my run when my wife gets home around 4 p.m., but with an ART appointment as well as the threat of 24-hours of downpour looming, I was left scrambling for a mid-day sitter, which isn’t exactly the easiest thing to find in the world.

But my mom came to the rescue by taking an extended lunch break. I guess 30-plus years of service at her job has its benefits… for me, too.

Thanks to my mom I was able to squeeze in a quick 13-miler, which I completed in 1:27:10. That’s not so bad when the fact that I did it on five hours sleep a days after doubling up for 21.5 miles. It took some extra effort to keep the pace in the early going, and loosening up wasn’t fun, but it’s definitely one I’ll take.

I just wish I could have gone longer. This is “Blast Week” after all. Perhaps if the rain holds off until the boy goes to bed and I’m not too tired after the ART, I’ll double-up again.

Stats: 13 miles in 1:27:10. The first nine went in 60:01. Not bad for a sleep-deprived dad.

On another note, my boy Michael and I had a lovely breakfast at Starbucks this morning. He had one of their apple streusels and organic chocolate milk and I had a venti Colombian with a Clif Bar. He enjoyed the overstuffed chairs and the broad windows. I enjoyed the company. If mornings like that is the reason to put off workouts, I’ll have no qualms about becoming a slouch.

A tremendous slouch.

Running nugget
Runnersworld.com reported that Lance Armstrong, the seven-time Tour de France champion, would get some help in his marathon debut on Nov. 5 in New York City.

According to the brief, Armstrong’s sponsor Nike is putting together a pace team that could include 1984 Olympic gold medal marathoner Joan Benoit Samuelson, three-time New York City Marathon winner Alberto Salazar, and 2004 Olympic 1500 and 5000-meter gold medalist Hicham El Guerrouj.

So a guy hoping to run 2:45 or so gets a team of rabbits? Wow. If Nike wants to send someone to Harrisburg on Nov. 12 to help me snap 2:40, I’m ready.