That's lactate, not lactose - so you non-milk drinkers don't need to run screaming.

I'm having a severe case of calf soreness ever since the Tuesday Hannaford run, and yesterday's runs around Cheverus' track didn't help the matter. When I get sore after exercise (you know, that one day back at the gym after 6 months of sloth and you think it'd be a good idea to do the stair climber for an hour and a half) I usually say, "I'm sore as hell - but it's the good kind."

Meaning that I'm sore as hell, but that's only because I did something productive - as opposed to being sore after being thrown from a wild Vespa.

I started looking into the soreness issue and gleaned some information on lactate - which historically had been blamed for the pain.

I can't feign any real knowledge on the subject other that this: It's not the lactate's fault. Lactate, these days, is considered a good thing that keeps runners from fatiguing as quickly.

So what or who is to blame? I say the Hannaford reps who made us stretch on Tuesday.

I've never been a stretcher (once heard that you're more likely to injure yourself by stretching than actually prevent any injury). So, I don't stretch. I figure it's one less thing for me to do, and I like doing less.

But I stretched with the group Tuesday (damn peer pressure!) and my calves are feeling the pain. Is it really the fault of the stretch? Probably not - but I have to point the finger somewhere, right?

And here I thought this blog might garner support for my efforts - a few words of encouragement or advice at the very least.

I even fancied I might inspire other Geary's-drinking, cross cut fries-eating, afternoon-napping non-runners to give it a shot.

But alas, I see what gets your attention:

See that spike in page views? That's from last Monday, when I announced the self-imposed beer moratorium.

It was a proclamation to be commended - a noble attempt to loosen the death-grip of another vice. People will surely back this moratorium, I thought, maybe even start a moratorium of their own.

It could be the start of a totally new movement - people giving things up for a period of time (say, 40 days) as evidence of their dedication. It'd be unlike anything ever done before. Can you imagine?

But encouragement I didn't get. No "way to go, Shan" or "You can do it." Instead, I got:

The other option is to switch to something less caloric....for example, a corona has 150 calories...a captain and diet coke, or a vodka soda has roughly 70 calories. You could have two and still not drink as many calories as were in the beer. :) Just a suggestion.

and

Coors Light = 105 calories per can... it's the beer when you're having, well, you know, several!!

and

what if you just work on your psychological outlook and convince yourself mentally that the beer, (being its own food group of course) and all those healthy, tasty and good for you treats (aka wings, nachos, fries) are REALLY building your strength

God forbid I was some raging alcoholic (or am I?) on the path to recovery.

Lesson learned: No one wants to read about running in a running blog. What was I thinking?

I'm hardly an expert on running gear. Or anything else, for that matter. But I do hear things and my ability to regurgitate information is working at a functional level.

I hear things like "cotton is the devil." It's not that cotton makes you do bad things ("Cotton once made me kill a man" or "The cotton talks to me at night and tells me to light fires"). It's just that for a runner, cotton sucks.

This blog entry by Peter Hadzipetros says it well:

Cotton holds in the sweat, keeps the moisture right next to your body. That's bad, whether the weather's warm or cold. Cotton's a recipe for pain that you will only discover later in the shower. Damp cotton rubbing against your skin means chafing.

Yeah - chafing. That's a bothersome issue. I went head to head with chafing last month - or should I say thigh to thigh. It'd been so long since I'd run in shorts I had forgotten what one sweaty patch of skin can do to another.

Chafing is a rascally sort of fellow - unobtrusive at first and then BAM! you find yourself running like a three-year-old who just wet himself.

Chafing takes days to heal, but Body Glide, I've discovered, can stave off the burning skin. It's like wearing a mouth guard when you and your friends play a rough round of human pinata - just a smart preventative measure.

And while preferences differ on the right running shoe, these probably aren't a good idea:

Which is why Anna and I were surprised to see two young guys running the Back Cove last night wearing shoes not unlike those pictured above. Had it been later in the summer, I could have passed it off as preparation for a college hazing event. They were otherwise dressed in appropriate running gear (shorts and t-shirts, at least) so the whole spectacle just didn't make sense.

It wasn't an isolated event, either. A few weeks ago we spotted the same guys running in similarly odd footwear.

I haven't any photos of the feet, but you can bet I'll be bringing my camera phone on next week's run.

Running inside? Could it be true? Yes!

Last week's rain hampered my morning run (and by "hampered" I mean entirely prevented).

Call it a fragile constitution, call it a cop-out, either way I'm just not ready to run in the rain. Ask me again in the summer when rain is considered refreshing rather than pneumonia-inducing.

Anyway, a comment from Holly that morning caught my attention:

Ran 5 miles on my treadmill before going to work.

What is this "treadmill" and where would I find one?

Who knew that a recent invention, referred to by users as a "gym," enables people to exercise inside! It's raining? Who cares! Blizzard conditions? Won't stop me!

And these running machines - treadmills - get you running without ever going anywhere. Boring? Some may say so. But speaking as someone who's found themselves 2 miles from home and completely exhausted, I like the idea of being able to just step off the machine when the energy runs out.

The problem with that: it's way too easy to just step off the machine.

Then again, cable television is an excellent motivator. Get your run in while you glean useless information from the Discovery Channel (such as the evolution of the toilet and myths about Thomas Crapper, which I watched in its entirety).

Three cheers for indoor running when the whether stinks!

And a solemn goodbye to one more excuse going down the tubes.

Running is just dandy - and I have nothing against it - but running alone isn't going to cut it (as far as my soon-to-be-G.I.-Jane-biceps are concerned). So off to the store I went to pick up a couple key items.

The first is a "matt." Apparently you're supposed to excercise on the "matt," though it reminds me of one of those old-school rollup sleds. I'll have to test the matt out on some snow next winter.

I'm guessing the matt is named after its inventor, whose name was probably Matt. He likely got tired of laying a towel on his hardwood floors to do yoga and having the dang thing slip out from under him. It's surprisingly painful to go from the arching flamingo position to the cracked-head sprawl unexpectedly.

The equipment in the photo on the right are called "waits." I'm guessing that's because even after you use them for what seems like eternity, you still have to wait and wait to see any real results.

Being an instant gratification person myself, I question how long I can swing those things around.