44/50 - Coffee Milk Marathon

Mmm, coffee milk.

This sure doesn't come easy; have I said that before? Feels like I have. 4 weeks after a marathon personal best in Maryland, I found myself in a marathon death march in Rhode Island, narrowly accomplishing my sub-3-hour goal.

But why so difficult? I've hit my stride with nutrition tracking and (most of the time) healthy(ish) eating as well as religiously doing body weight workouts 3 times a week - all the stuff that I found helpful these past 2 marathons and part of my 2018 resolution to make these remaining marathons go smoothly.

I was set to fly to Providence, RI on Friday evening when I got ill Friday morning (which unfortunately made its way through the family all weekend). This, coupled with a left hamstring injury sustained by some overzealous running in the week after the MD marathon - after a year of nursing a right hamstring injury - didn't have me hopeful for a successful race. The flight was a struggle to quell the lingering sickness. I didn't eat much all day. I found a hotel as soon as I landed and went right to bed.

After a good night's sleep, a shakeout run around Providence, my first real meal in over a day at Sydney, and a weird experience with an 8-year-old and his inattentive mom in the hotel hot tub (he sat in my lap and sneezed in my face while his mom just looked on), my umwelt was back to normal.

Art, as seen during my run

Political art

Wall of Hope, also seen during my run

"What the hell is an umwelt?", you ask. I know what you're thinking, "word nerd!" I did hear it on NPR's Radiolab podcast so that's probably justified. Umwelt is the world as it's experienced by the person experiencing it. This world of running, as experienced by me, is always fun, regardless of the conditions: I'm here to visit 2 of the most talked about New England breweries, I've never been to Providence (cute town, friendly people!), I enjoy writing about my adventures, and I am able to run, which is something we able-bodied folks need to remind ourselves every now and then.

Back to those breweries... Treehouse Brewing Company, only around since 2011, is a great example of how to seize upon and capitalize the hell out of hype. You know that hazy NEIPA (New England IPA) you're drinking that tastes and looks more like juice than beer? It started with Heady Topper (brewed in Vermont by The Alchemist) in 2004. Nowadays, it's almost harder to find a clear, filtered beer with every brewery in the country obsessed with cashing in on this NEIPA trend.

See?! It's so hazy that even the picture turned out blurry.

Their pristine, rustic brewhouse sits on a hill overlooking a picturesque wooded property located in a small, middle-of-nowhere, Massachusetts town. The property is massive; they have their own shuttle for the backup parking lot, which I had to park in when I arrived at open! Demand is so high that they stopped distributing their product to stores and bars and on any given morning, people will line up (about an hour wait) to buy their allotment for the day and then, if the taproom is open (only on a couple of days a week), line up for 2 draft beers max - no flights, no samples.

A panoramic view of Treehouse - great outdoor space, food trucks, live music

It was stupid, but there I was. Beer-nerding in New England is far more intense than anywhere I've been in the country (see also my 2014 NH & ME marathon weekend). It's even worse than Belgium! The hunt and the hype will have me convincing you the beer is great, however, if you try it blindfolded, you're likely to opine a bit of truth: it tastes like beer we can readily buy at the grocery store.

I made it back to Providence in time for dinner at Al Forno and I'll be damned if I'm not standing in another line of people waiting for an establishment to open! This was another Facebook suggestion and that feature has yet to steer me wrong. I've taken to eating an entire pizza the day before a marathon and this pizza was worth the hype.

Sunday morning, it's cold and a bit windy, but these East Coast races tend to start at 8am so I'm rested. I had planned to treat this like a training run for the Eugene Marathon in 3 weeks. I knew the hamstring would be a hinderance so I tried to bank time on the first half, crossing it in 1:26:00. At mile 2 I thought, "Rhode Island is pretty, I wouldn't mind coming back." It wasn't until mile 15 that I believed I might not have to return.

Wincing in pain but still managed the Stehling pose - 2 fingers and a smile!

There began the numerous pace calculations going through my mind. At mile 13: "how much slower can I run and still finish in under 3 hours?" And again at miles 16, 18, 20, 22, the last 5K, miles 24 and 25. I've never been so consumed by the math, I think in part, because it helped keep my mind off the hamstring that was not at all happy for most of the race.

It was a small race, about 100 marathoners (joined by 175 half marathoners), and I was alone from mile 1 to the finish. But, I finished in 2:58:39, 2nd place and a few meters from pizza and coffee milk. For a small race, it had more than you would expect for $50: attentive race director out on the course all day, enthusiastic volunteers, course markings everywhere, a good food spread, and a fairly flat and fast, certified marathon course.

I had an evening flight and just enough time for the 45-mile drive to Trillium Brewing Company (in Canton, MA) for a few hours of nurse-my-wound beers and to pack a suitcase full of them to take home. Things are less grandiose here, but they're still in the hype business and there are lines. What's nice is they don't have a beer limit (well, 2 at a time then get back in line!) and they offer half pours so, in lieu of a flight, you can at least sample through their 20-some eclectic beers on tap.

Asian Pear Saison and Cabernet Wild Ale

At the airport, the United bag check attendant laughed and knew all about those "New England beers we're all flying home with." My bag of only beer was 54 lbs., 4lbs. overweight. She was nice and only had me throw away 2 beers.

Oh, right, I had 2 socks in there also.

I hate to dump you, That's What She Said!

Oh, and about that coffee milk - the state drink of Rhode Island... it's horchata, don't let anyone tell you differently.