so close...

2 more miles to go...that is all :)

Criminal Negligence

Suffice to say, I haven't been updating.  Not even my monthly updates.  The school year began, and I just couldn't keep up with working, running, and blogging.  On September 24, I had run 600 miles, as much as last year.  I had to average 12 miles a week to reach my goal by the end of the year.  Since then, I've averaged 13.3 over the past ten weeks.  That means, I should hit my 2011 goal this coming week.  Weather won't stop me, so I hope that life doesn't get in the way.

Meanwhile, I haven't been able to do those monthly updates.  Here's what I can say:

• September 2010-60.81 miles (3.2 average on 20 runs)
• September 2011-79.89 miles [wow] (3.8 avg. on 21 runs)
• October 2010-40.42 miles (4.042 average on 10 runs, including a half marathon)
• October 2011-62.4 miles (3.5 avg. on 17 runs)
• November 2010- 46.03 miles (3.06 avg. on 15 runs)
• November 2011-57.64 miles (avg. 2.88, 20 runs)

And, my weight sucks.

Manchester Road Race recap to follow ASAP.  I enjoyed it too much not to write about it.

I'll Rochambeau you for it...OR-Over the river, and through the woods...

To sister's house, I go?  Yes, actually, that is exactly what happened this Saturday morning.  Like many Saturdays, I was up before the sun for a run.  Only, this June Saturday was just really overcast...with a refreshing light mist.  But what if I told you this run was different...


What if you could run from suburbia, to commercial developments, to rural farm country, back to commercial developments, in the footsteps of Revolutionary heroes (including George Washington), and then back to suburbia?  What if I told you that you could run into history?  What if I told you a run could take you into American folklore?  What if I told you I was attacked by a dog?  That all happened on my most recent run.  It's all true.  But (in the words of LeVar Burton), you don't have to take my word for it...

Races...we've got races...

Over the past two days, I've really been trying to fill up my summer dance card.  The past two years, I've run the half marathon and 10k at Simsbury, CT's annual Iron Horse races.  The first year, I wanted to do the half to gauge my readiness for a full the following October.  Last year, I ran the 10k in humidity straight out of the bayou, because mMiL said it was a great race.  The year before had been a crisp, warm day...last year, we had a thunderstorm.  To finish off the trifecta of races at the event, I decided to run the 5k this year.  Honestly, my only motivation for this race is to have all three color bibs on my bulletin board at the end of the school  year.  To top it off, the little girl will make her race debut in a 50m fun run.  She's been training for a few weeks now, and is really working with her strength coach and massage therapists to set a tremendous PR for a 3 year old.

In addition to this race, I signed up for my vacation race.  Since I've been married, we've been going to mooch off of my in-laws in their annual trip to the Cape.  That's been 6 summers so far.  I can't remember if I've run races in 4 or 5 of them.  To date, I've run two or 3 Brew Runs from The Woodshed on Rt. 6A in Brewster, MA.  I've also finished the Falmouth Road Race in what may have been my best race...ever.  Then, in a bizarro twist of calendar fates, the first weekend we're away was suddenly a week earlier (I'm assuming it's the first weekend in August, and something is screwy).  So, I signed up for a charming little race run from the Cape's "only" Irish Pub.  The course is interesting, going over rivers, through cranberry bogs, and in and out of woodlands.  It was a nice enough race, and though last year it was REALLY hot, I enjoyed it enough to sign up again.

I love the Brew Run, because it starts at 4 or 5 in the afternoon, and ends with a party.  Falmouth was more hectic, but just as festive...only like Manchester, I was taking part in the parade, and the people on the sidelines were the view.  There's nothing like running by lighthouses and windmills to create a unique running experience.  Some day, I hope to run both again.  Until then, I'm happy going to the Pub run...it's a good time.

With that being said, I'm scouring looking for a few more races to fill my summer dance card.  I don't want to travel more than half an hour.  I'm being picky, but there's tons to choose from.  If you've done any of the races listed during mid-June, July, or the end of August, let me know what you think.  Eventually, I'll figure it out.  Until then, I'll just keep chugging along...

One cool ultra...

Not to keep beating a dead horse, but I'm going to reference Runner's World again.  The May issue did not have a "Newbie Chronicles."  However, it did have a story on an interesting ultra-marathon.  In Notorious (p. 77), Charlie Engle describes the Barkley Marathons, a race held annually in Frozen Head State Park near Wartburg, Tennessee in late March or early April.


Both the article and the Wikipedia entry describe its odd requirements and inspiration.  The race is limited to 35 runners and usually fills up quickly the day registration opens. Potential entrants must complete an essay on "Why I Should be Allowed to Run in the Barkley."  The course was designed by Gary Cantrell. His idea for the race was inspired upon hearing about Martin Luther King, Jr's assassin James Earl Ray escaping from prison, and making it only 8 miles (13 km) after running 55 hours in the woods. Cantrell said to himself "I could do at least 100 miles." Thus, the Barkley Marathon was born.


The race certainly has some intriguing features.  Race runners do several loops through terrifying terrain.  Five loops must be completed in 60 hours, with a 12 hour limit per loop.  Consecutive loops are run in opposite directions (first clockwise, then counter-clockwise).  Meanwhile, there is over 110,000 feet in elevation change over the total course.  Some short stretches have over 10,000 feet of elevation change in 0.5-2.5 miles.  That's just crazy.  Now factor in bears, boulders, brambles, and brooks, and you've got one heck of an adventure.

A typical trail marker in the Barkley

Among the quirks are the maps and books.  Runners are given a standard map, not a route map.  The course is barely marked.  Instead, they must follow the pack, hope to keep up, and examine the broken branches to find their way.  Of course, there are some markings along the trail...like pig skulls on stakes.  Then, at several pit stops around the course, runners must tear out their assigned page number from books, to prove that they've met each checkpoint.  These books have titles such as Cry Uncle or A Time to Die.  Simply twisted!

Nothing better to get you through 100+ 
miles of Hell on Earth

Finally, don't take my word for it.  I've found three even more intriguing looks at Barkley than the small glimpse in the magazine or that which I can provide.  One came from the Washington Post.  Another was a webpage created by Matt Mahoney, a man who finished the 60 mile "fun run" at Barkley.  It includes videos,  demonstrating the true twistedness of this race - even Cantrell playing taps as each runner quits.  Another was an RW online profile of the race from 2010.  It chronicled Engle's journey prior to his own article in this past month's magazine.


There is no race schwag.  There is no race registration webpage.  In fact, there's not much - just adventure and pride.  But, I think the thing that got me, was all the crazy aspects of it.  The books, the taps, or the even more demented.  There is no starting gun.  Instead, the race begins as Cantrell lights and takes a drag on a cigarette...the opposite of what every runner expects.

Return of the 20 mile week...

*** Warning - This is not an exciting or well-written post.  I'm just happy. ***

This week, for the first time in over 6 months, I logged a 20 mile week.  Actually, it was 21.  This never happens at this time of the year.

Since I've caught this running bug, I usually take a winter break.  Then, I'd start again after I gained a bunch of weight.  When track season began, and I had to coach, my running became more irregular.  This year, I gained the weight, never stopped running, and maintained some strength.  Therefore, having my first real time off since Christmas, I took to the road with a vengeance this week.

It isn't as though my most recent weeks have led to this.  The fact is, that is as far from the truth as possible (the past 3 weeks, I've only run 22 miles total).  However, something made me feel strong on a long run last weekend, so I decided to try it again on Monday.  Somewhere around the second 2 mile loop on Monday, I had made up my mind...I'm going for 20 this week.

For "real runners" 20 mile weeks are meant for recovery.  For me, they are always an accomplishment.  Married, 3 year-old, work, coaching, the work I bring home, trying to do the right thing...all of these generally come before running.  Plus I'm slow.  This week, I was able to juggle all my hats, run a bunch, and actually nap a few times.  That made me a very happy camper.  It's a really simple system (when I don't have work) to reach 20: 4, 2-3, 5-6, 3-4, and 5-6.

There have been hot days and cold days.  Sun, rain, and wind have met me on my runs.  Through it all, I've just been psyched I could get this mileage in.  The times weren't fantastic, but they weren't awful either.  I just really am happy about all this running, hoping that I've got a really good base, with less than 2 months until summer vacation, and some real training.

And it was all possible, thanks to the music this week...

Kinship on the Run...

Marc Parent's Newbie Chronicles are a monthly column in Runner's World.  Each month, with great anticipation, I await reaching that column.  Up until my mid-twenties, I awaited each week's Sports Illustrated in much the same way so that I could read, in order, Rick Reilly and Steve Rushin's columns.  Rushin left to freelance for Golf Digest and Time, and be a parent and husband to Rebecca Lobo.  I've seen them together, and they're both giants.  Reilly is now working for ESPN, putting out less-thought-provoking material than he had a decade ago.  Alas, I digress.

In the April 2011 issue of Runner's World (how do publishers get away with such time travel?), Parent's article reestablished a constant kinship I feel when reading his work.  Though I have been running since 2004, I constantly feel new to the sport.  Or, at the very least, and outsider.  Each month, Parent's work reminds me that there are other runners out there struggling with getting their sneakers on each day, let alone hitting split times.  This is why I relish the words he writes.  He writes what I think and feel, and so much better than I ever could.

Don't get me wrong.  I enjoy reading both the blogs and tweets of @pigtailsflying and @frayedlaces. They're "real" runners who write well.  They've been all over the world, running in huge races, despite their recreational obsession.  I envy their running experiences, which amaze and entertain readers.  However, with Marc Parent, I don't envy his running experiences.  It seems, so often, that I have lived them.  That is what makes the difference in his writing.

In the most recent Newbie Chronicles, Parent describes his first run with an iPod.  He also goes on to describe his running, stating that "...[he] can fairly describe the action as a cumbersome movement."  Chuckling, mental note was taken of such an accurate description.  Coaching youth runners, one hopes to help them achieve a fluid running motion.  As a runner, my running motion is a fluid motion.  In my mind, I imagine that fluid motion to be sloshing.

The music on the run changed this cumbersome movement into something "...fun, easy, and efficient."  My own running is a cumbersome movement, and often, it is the music that gets me through my runs.  Like parent, the sound of running involves a lot of "whistling wind, smashing feet, and honking lungs."  So, running with music guides me though my endeavors, adding pacing, inspiration, and distraction.  Purists might scoff at this, but for me, it's a necessity.  The soundtrack of my run changes daily, but always helps me through things.

Today was one of those runs.  I felt every bit of cumbersome.  Stopping, not a half mile from home, I knew I needed a change of soundtrack.  Switching to the top-plays on the iPod generally breaks a funk.  So, in the low-40s, I restarted the run, and continued out to the nearby state highway, to run past the nearby state prison, the nearby town park, the nearby elementary school, and up the nearby pain of a hill.  Thus, I sloshed up the hill, past the first mile marker (the start of the prison property!!!), wondering if I would bonk completely on this run like last week.

At the top of the hill, reaching the intersection, it was my first opportunity of 2011 to be chicked.  Being passed on runs after work by runners on the school's track and cross country teams does not bother me.  Inevitably, they join me for a while, and then, after I've slowed them enough, they take off OR they continue with me until I finish my run, then go back out for a quick few more miles.  However, in public, female runners blowing by me brings out my pride and a unhealthy dose of machismo.  Note: I rarely pass the female runner; she always seems to pass me.

The 5-way intersection produced an interesting aspect.  I saw that the woman (well, actually she could've been anywhere from 17-37) was fit, running a better pace than me, and had much better gear.    She was coming up on a side street from my left, and we reached the intersection at the same time.  We barely made eye-contact (still no idea how old she was), gave that runner's wave (a quick moment of kinship, as we both looked like we'd rather be doing anything else...not like that macho signal people on motorcycle's give each other when they pass one another), and she slowly, but consistently, ran ahead of me.  Every ten seconds or so, getting an extra section of sidewalk further way, her ponytail swayed from side to side in front of me, taunting me.  Then my pride rose up, my favorite running song came on, as I began to hit her rhythm and catch up (longer strides, hahaha!!!).   The sloshing stopped, and between the cadence of that fast girl (all the women who pass me are fast girls), and All These Things That I've Done. Then, with my run rescued, I reached my turn, and she continued on.

This was barely a mile and a half into my 4-miler for today.  Suddenly, I wished I had raced today.  Not the race mMiL was running, but rather something flat.  It was really a beautiful morning.  Up a hill, down a hill, over sidewalks that had snow on them for nearly 2 months without being cleared.  The run went pretty well, and then, about a mile after my run was saved, somebody nearly backed into me.  The drive had made eye contact.  She saw me.  She nearly hit me anyway.  What?  I was going to stop, so you could go get your coffee at Dunkins?  I don't think so lady.  Really?  I'm a pedestrian.  OH YEAH, BY THE WAY, IN THE WINTER, YOU DON'T CLEAR YOUR DAMNED SIDEWALK.  Figures it'd be somebody that has already tried to kill my runs.

So, thanks to crazy older lady driver X, my pace was screwed up.  I struggled about a quarter of a mile, and there was "nice, elderly gentleman runner."  That's his official name in my head.  I see him from time to time.  We make small talk.  I let him set the pace.  It's faster than mine, and he's fitter than I am, so it works.  He is a great pace setter.  It's where I should run.  So, once again, we did our little dance.  Talking about how we hadn't seen each other all winter (he preferred to run before the sun), and how it seems we always meet in the same area.  As always, we parted at the corner to my street.  He went towards his house, and I towards mine.

As I settled into home, running the last half-mile at a nice clip, I thought about Parent's article.  My cumbersome movement had been fixed twice by strangers going through a similar experience  So often, besides Parent, just talking with or running alongside another runner, brings that instant kinship.  Two weeks ago, I absent-mindedly led my dog on a 4-miler.  We meant to go for two, but she looked to be loving it, and so we just kept going until she looked as tired as I did.  She's usually hyper, but is a great running partner.  Sydney has sat at my feet consistently since that day.  That's the kinship of the run.  Beautiful days like today were made to run, and the people we run with, meet on the run, or just those that sing to us as we attempt to run, really make the difference between a good run and a bad run.

The Winter of my Discontent

Being from New England helps when you truly love all the seasons.  I enjoy the warms of summer (not the humids), and a spring shower where everything smells fresh.  I don't hate mowing the lawn, though in humidity I could take it or leave it.  In the fall, I love how crisp everything is, and the colors popping is really nice, aesthetically. 

Then there is winter.  Everyone that complains about weather and climates complains about winter.  I love winter.  I love snow.  I even love shoveling.  However, I appreciate when things are spread out more.    Since the New Year began, I have worked a total of 9 days.  We have had snow days on January 7, 12, 13, 18, and 21.  There was also MLK, Jr. Day on January 17.  There have been dustings, high winds, wintry mix, slush, ice pellets, and even a full-on Nor'easter.

In this time, I have dug out my mailbox 3 times (twice in an hour...thank you town plows).  I have shoveled the driveway too many times to count.  I have used a hoe to clear off my roof...twice.  And today, I climbed up there, and shoveled off some more.  I'm not complaining, so much as asking for a reprieve for a week or two.  This isn't happening, though, because we're either getting wintry mix OR a blizzard on Tuesday/Wednesday. C'est la vie.

Why am I putting this on the running blog, you ask?  Running has kind of been a savior.  Cabin fever has certainly set in...a few times.  Because of this, it has been really great to get OUTSIDE.  And due to the cabin fever, I haven't brought myself to go to the gym and use the treadmill yet.

This has been fine.  I've got some great gear for the cold.  Yesterday, however, it was about 10 degrees with a 0 windchill.  Two miles was the decision.  Half-way through, I was questioning the insanity (kind of like my trip up to the roof) of such an endeavor. That was until I saw him.

He was a 40-something runner, approaching the same corner as me from a different direction.  Decked out in some traffic-cone orange (I had bright yellow), he kind of gave me a grin, as he blew past me in the intersection.  I took the bait.  He was clearly a better runner (evidenced by the fact he didn't need to wear shorts over his tights), with a much longer stride.  Inspired, I worked to keep up.

The mystery man took off on the flats.  But on every incline, I made up a lot of ground.  Slowly but surely, I was making some head way (and struggling to breathe based on the pace and cold).  Each time we hit a flat or downhill, he'd take off on me.  Each time we started climbing, I'd reel him in a bit.  Eight minutes later, I had covered the 2nd mile (WOW), and we went our separate ways.

He was exactly the thing I needed.  I don't know where that guy came from, but I sure appreciated it.  Once again, the guy a few yards ahead is my greatest running inspiration...

The Doldrums

To quote that reputable source, Wikipedia, 

"The Doldrums, also called the "equatorial calms", is a nautical term for the intertropical convergence zone, with special reference to the light and variable nature of the winds...This region is also noted for extremely calm periods when the winds disappear altogether, or are light and shifting... Because of these unpredictable weather patterns, the Doldrums became notorious for trapping sailing ships for days (or even weeks) without enough wind to power their sails...In colloquial usage, "being in the doldrums" refers to being in a state of listlessness, despondency, inactivity, stagnation, or a slump.[1]"

For me and my running, the doldrums equate to the track & field season.  One would think this would inspire more running, however nothing could be closer from the truth for this coach.  How do you figure, one may ask: January-8 miles run (12 on elliptical, exam period), February-50 miles run, March-50 miles run, April-30 miles run.  This past week?  I ran all of 2 miles.  This is the doldrums for my running.  When you have 3 or 4 meets in a week and a two-year old, there's no way to get the runs in after work track.  If I had a normal job, I'd wake up at 5 and run before work.  Unfortunately, I already wake up then, and only make it to work 5 minutes before I have to be there.  No 9 to 5 in the world of education...


What mileage I have gotten in this season, it's been done after practices.  This week, however, that was near impossible, too.  Monday, I was sore from the previous day's MS walk (nearly 5 miles, but the pace and terrain left my hips in a funk), so I only did 2 of my scheduled 3 miles.  Meet on Tuesday, at school from 6:50 to about 7:30-home at 8ish.  Wednesday, my athlete's workouts allowed me to walk/jog about a mile and a half, but that didn't add to my running total, as I worked from start to finish, getting times for kids and correcting form.  Thursday, I had a meeting all day, was later than usual to practice, and had to leave by 4, because the wife has a class at 6.  Somebody has to watch the kiddo, and it's tough to run right after dinner.  Friday, we had a scholar athlete banquet.  Rushed out of practice, out until 11.  Yesterday was an all day meet.  Though I got great color, and made home in time for a workout, life took over.  The lawn looked like a jungle, and I had about 2 hours of daylight.  With rain in the forecast for all day today (and correctly, I might add), I did the right thing and mowed the lawn. Sure, pushing the mower for 2 hours must amount to like a mile and a half, but I'm not going to try and figure that math out.


Today's rain would've been prime for a workout.  However, the doldrums had gotten me.  I gave in, and did all the work I've been putting off.  It's sad.  The run would've done me good, and only eaten up about an hour of my day.  I dozed that long.


With 5 days to go, I've got to get out of last week's funk.  There are two coed meets scheduled this week.  I should be able to run on one of those mornings.  I might actually make it to 40 miles for April.  May has to up the ante, because I'm planning to be in a race the first Sunday in June.
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[1]Anonymous, . "Doldrums." Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, Inc., 10 Apr 2010. Web. 25 Apr 2010.

No time, all the time

Finding time for the run is tough. I've found enough time for about 14-15 miles a week. This will be my third week in a row with that, but there could also be snow...which there has been each of the last two weeks. One thing is for certain-I'm fat. No doubt. Huge. I weigh what I weighed at the end of last school year. I hate that.

It is obvious I need more cross training. Muscle confusion...probably not an option. I still need to get my mileage in, but need something else.

Thank goodness for Lent. No pizza, no soda, no bad for me snacks, avoiding sweets (more of a guideline, than a hard and fast rule, because of birthdays), and maybe I'll rededicate myself to at least one day of weights.

The crunches are not done every day, but I've done more in the past 6 weeks than I've done in a long time.

Winter doesn't motivate...I must motivate. February break is a great help...Since I don't have one next year, I need to get my weight DOWN...seriously.

The treadmill is a bitch. The treadmill, at least for winter, is my best friend.

If you can't stand the heat, don't even think about the humidity

As a large person, humidity is the bane of my existence. Skinny folks think that humidity is bad for everyone, which it is, to a degree. However, when you're big like me, it's just that much worse. Skinny people will debate this with me, but I win that argument quickly. Why? Because when it's humid, skinny people will complain about how muggy it is, but STILL go outside and sit by a pool on a humid day, get sun, jump in, get more sun, jump back in, and they're fine. Me, I do my best to avoid going outside at all costs, even into my pool on humid days. By the way, don't get me going on the fallacy of "dry heat." To make a short story long, this week, with it's awful humidity (and clearly no rain, unlike wonderful last week), made for a tough work week.

To be honest, it was the worst week of training this summer. Everything seemed out of whack. Not to complain, but not only was it humid, but for some reason, my feet and left leg killed when I ran. It was pretty inexplicable, but I wasn't comfortable on any of my weekday runs. IT WAS INEXPLICABLE...until I went to the chiro for the first time in 2 weeks (she was on her honeymoon), and BAM! I felt better instantly, as the pain in my feet subsided, and my left leg was fine (she snapped by fibula back into place).

This morning, I did my 2nd longest run ever, 12.24 miles. It's been exactly 2 months since the half marathon, so it was a good indicator of my training. Again, I did the 2.04 mile loop near home and ran it 6 times. For the Gatorade tastes so much sweeter when you're tired, and you only allow yourself two sips (one Dixie cup full, like races). The running felt great, and I actually did the whole thing running sub-10 minute miles! That may not seem like the greatest to real runners, but when my goal is to run 9 minute miles for the marathon, that's a tremendous training pace. For the record, I ran 9:52/mile for the entire thing. What I'm more proud of is that the first ten mile, the same as last Saturday's run, was done at a pace of 9:32/mile for 10.20 miles (a total of 1 h 37 m 14 s). Last week, it took me an hour and 45 minutes for that same distance, and I ran 10:16/mile.

The weirdest thing of the entire run was feeling my fibula slip in and out a few times. In the past few weeks, I've realized I've become one of those people consumed by running. I won't say I'm a psycho runner, because 1) I don't enter every race I can, and always try for a PR and 2) I know I could just not run for like...ever if I truly felt like being a fat P.O.S. But, as a runner, I am obsessive. Feeling my leg do twitchy things is one of those examples of my obsession. They say, listen to what your body tells you in Runner's World. Well, even though I'm not hurt, since going to the new chiropractor, I'm much more aware of what my body is doing. Another example of my obsession is that this week I noticed I've been putting my shoes on the same way I did when I played football (right, then left). When I do put my shoes on the wrong foot first, I take them off and start over. I also love my watch, and like to beat the clock.

But the best example of my being consumed by running came when I was doing my 3rd lap today. I was about 1/2 mile into it (so around 4.5 miles in), when this lady comes up behind me. She's running a great pace, but based on her complete lack of sweat, I know she's just starting. Then, she passed me. I got pissed. I lengthened my stride, and really went at it, and kept on her shoulder for the next mile or so. She turned one way at a corner, I went the other, and it was over. But I was so pissed at her. Even now, writing this, I'm getting my blood pressure up.

Something else, completely unrelated, that I've been realizing over the past two weeks is pretty weird. I love running hills. Not great big ones, but slowly inclining, gradual hills are fun for me. My dad used to say he did, too, because when he ran XC, he could catch all the taller runners on the hills, due to his shorter stride. He always lost it on the flats. Maybe I'm nuts, but the hill is the only place I can open my stride (which is much larger than Dad's). I feel as though I eat up those gradual sloping hills...especially when the sun is at my back, and I can chase my shadow. Perhaps it's childish, but it works.

Finally, the music from today... One of the songs that came on while I ran always makes me feel better as I run. I'm sure many recreational runners have this experience. There are several songs that I can name that do this. However, this song is probably unique to me. That's because it's 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton. I'm not kidding. When I run, I love that song. The intro reminds me of feet on the pavement, and the brass is a nice change from the driving guitars of the alt/rock I'm usually running to. So thank you, Dolly...

Side note: this Tuesday, after I ran, I went to NYC to watch the taping of Late Night w/ Jimmy Fallon. Great time! Free tickets. I recommend it to any and everyone to go get into a television studio audience of one of their favorite shows. Even if you don't think you'll enjoy the guests (I saw P. Diddy, and it turned out to be great), you'll most likely enjoy the experience. Here's Jimmy, Diddy, and the legendary Roots crew, slow jammin' the news on the President's approval ratings...

Random observation at the gym...

Saw this guy at the gym. I'd wager he's around 50-55. There he was, doing like 800 lbs on the leg press. That wasn't what drew me to him, though. It was the fact that he had at least a dozen tiny cross earrings around the cartilage in his right ear. Dude, it's not getting you into heaven, and it's certainly not making you a better Christian. Still, I hope this was his reasoning, because if he thought it was a good look...well that might be the most disturbing possibility.

The only thing that topped that was the woman with two sleeves of tattoos up her arms. She's a workout fiend. It's intense.