Riding...and running

Avoiding "Mom Jeans"

2012-02-17T18:36:00.000-08:00

After reading this most hilarious blog about How to Avoid Mom Jeans, I decided that I needed a jeans wardrobe overhaul.   No woman in her right mind willingly goes through the agonizing and frustrating process of trying on jeans. Only when her current jeans collection no longer fits or has become so raggedy she looks like a homeless person or a pop singer, will any woman subject herself to this torture.

I've struggled for years to find jeans that I liked. It used to be so easy. Stone-washed Levi's in a classic traditional fit. Buy two pair, wear until the bottom hems became hopelessly frayed and the rivets at the pockets started to pull holes, then go buy two more new pair.

But times have changed. Fashion has changed. Fit has changed. And truth be told, my good old-fashioned go-to Levi 550's are dangerously close to being "mom jeans."

Today was the day. There's a good-sized Levi's store in the Katy Mills mall and that's where I headed.   A few years ago I drove to that store, bought a couple of pair of Levi's in a style that was at that time new to me. I brought them home and they languished on the shelf in my closet, with the tags still on them, unworn and unloved. I just couldn't bring myself to wear these new-fangled lower-cut jeans! I thought they made my butt look big. Little did I know...that's apparently a good thing.

But that was a few years ago. Since then, as I've purchased new pants, shorts, and running shorts, their fit has crept lower and lower until they now sit well below my belly button and I've come to appreciate - even love - that fit and look. So I felt confident that I could re-visit that Levi's store and walk out with a couple pair of new jeans, styles that were "hip" and that weren't "mom jeans."

A lovely woman about my age, her name was Bea, swooped down on me and with some measuring tapes specifically designed to help the customer choose the right "fit," determined that my shape is "demi-curve."   On a scale of 1-5, it's a "2" in terms of voluptuousness. I guess it means that while I have a definite waist, I'm not as curvy as other women. We picked out a couple of pair of jeans in the "demi-curve" Classic straight leg category, and she bundled me off to the dressing room.   I also took a pair of the "demi curve" Modern straight leg category to try on, as well. "Classic" sits just below the waist, and "Modern" sits about an inch lower than the Classic.

When did jean cut/size/style selections get so complex? But I gotta admit, Levi's has definitely got this figured out!    They fit me like a glove! I even was tempted to go with the Modern cut, but in the end opted for the Classic. I bought two pair: One pair in a scrubbed, whiskered color (don't ask - I have no idea what this means!), the other pair in a dark denim color with some scrubbing on the thighs.

When I got home, a few pairs of "mom jeans" went into the pile of donation clothes.

Sound Effects and Valentines

2012-02-14T16:08:00.000-08:00

Our Drama Club - The CountryPlace Players - is in rehearsals for the spring play, an original production entitled Black & White TV. Imagine all of our favorite sitcoms from the 50's and 60's: I Love Lucy, The Honeymooners, The Lone Ranger...

Imagine all of those memorable TV commercials from that era: Bob Hope promoting Texaco, Speedy promoting Alka Seltzer, Dinah Shore promoting Chevrolet...

Now imagine all of the sound effects and the theme music that go along with all of this.

I was asked if I would take charge of Sound Effects, given my computer expertise and my experience doing this for other productions, although the amount of sound effects required for these prior productions was much smaller than for this current production. This new project involved researching and sourcing legally downloadable theme music for more than a dozen shows and commercials. It also involved searching for and downloading a number of sound effects and pieces of music, including such bits as stripper music, organ music, and sound effects such as a toilet flush, a rocket missile, a shotgun blast and many more. More than 40 separate sound effects in all. It was a fun and interesting challenge!

I converted the mostly MP3 files to WMA files and edited many of them for length, volume consistency, to insert fades where appropriate, and to splice a few of them together for better control and effect.

The play is now in its second week of rehearsals, all sound effects have been loaded onto the club's laptop computer that connects to the master soundboard, all minor changes and adjustments to these sound effects have now been made, and my job is now done.

An interesting and fun project for sure!!

So where does Valentine's come in? Earlier this evening I put on my running shoes and jogged the 1/2 mile to the Carriage House where rehearsals are underway. One of the sound booth crew had a small heart-shaped box of delectable Lindt Truffles for me - his way of saying thanks for all of the work I put into getting the sound effects set up. Then, when I ran home, I stopped at my mailbox and found an envelope filled with two home-made valentines for me, one from my granddaughter Mimi, the other from grandson Trevor. Refrigerator art!! Nice end to the day!

Hope your Valentine's Day was everything you wanted it to be.

A Most Excellent Morning

2012-02-11T14:31:00.000-08:00

Being retired means that every morning is Saturday morning. But this Saturday morning dawned crisp and clear and with an agenda.

It's been a very long time since I entered a 5k race. It was possibly 5 or 6 years ago, when I entered the Fallen Heros 5k (a countrywide initiative of the Wounded Warriors Project) in Sugarland. Now I'm entered in another 5k race, this one in Katy TX. I realized just now that both of these little races involved doing it with a friend who is, or who has been, on a "journey."

My entry in that little race a few years ago was the result of trying to get a girlfriend involved in USAFit, a walk/run program intended for folks who've never run a step in their lives. She desperately needed to lose weight and diet alone was not going to help her. She needed to get active...get moving. I got her signed up for the USAFit program and then got her signed up for that race. It was an out-and-back loop and I ran out ahead of her with the plan that she would short-circuit the route when I came back on the return leg and we would walk together to the finish line.

My entry in today's little race was as a result of another friend who's on a weight loss journey of his own. He sent me a copy of his race entry confirmation email, in hopes that I would enter the race as well, and we could do it together. Well, what better reason to do this race, than this?!

So last night I checked the weather (cold and blustery!) and laid out my running clothes in preparation for the next morning. This morning I awoke on my own without an alarm, got up, got dressed, ate breakfast and then drove to Katy TX, to Christus St. Catherine Hospital parking lot, where the race would start and finish.

I'd forgotten how pleasant and easy these small little races really are. No crowds, no parking problems. Informal - almost too informal - starting line procedure.

We almost missed hearing the start gun, we were so busy talking to a local high school drum line group who were there for start line motivational noise. But we quickly caught up, got across the start line mats (yes...they even had timing chips for the 5k race!).

My friend started out at a blisteringly fast walking pace...much faster than he led me to believe that he was capable of. Then he broke into a fast jog, again faster than I expected of him. We mostly walked, but he jogged for short stretches through to the mile 2 marker. It was great seeing him doing this!!

Rewarding - although very cold - morning!
Flirting with the Chick-Fil-a Cow!

I ran ahead to each of the mile markers so that I could photograph him as he passed these landmarks. I ran ahead to the finish line, too, so that I could get him and the timer clock in the shot as he ran through. It is so motivating watching my friend take this journey to personal improvement. Great day!

February Waffle Houses

2012-02-09T12:36:00.000-08:00

I decided to get out for a couple more Waffle Houses today, get a couple more up "on the board" for the month of February. One of my goals is to be sure to post at least one Waffle House every month. Our Drama group is in rehearsals for a spring production, but rehearsals got out early enough that I could get home, change into riding gear, and get out for a couple of Waffle House photos by lunch time.

Keeping to my strategy of holding certain Waffle Houses in reserve for future planned rides and for late in the year, when no road trips are planned, I mapped a route that took me on some pleasant roads to get to a couple of stores down near the coast.

The sun was struggling to peek out from the high cloud cover, but never quite made it and, even though the weather man said temps would be in the low 60's, they struggled to get out of the low 50's. I left the electric jacket liner behind and, while not quite cold, I was on the edge, especially when I got down near the Gulf of Mexico in Galveston.

Waffle House #999 in Lamarque, TX, at the intersection of FM 1764 and I-45:

Waffle House #1260 on 61st Street in Galveston TX:

My Waffle House Grand Tour rally flag and some new "bling" for my motorcycle:

Personalizing the rally flag:

It felt good to get the Zooty BMW out for a nice 100 mile ride! Later this weekend or early next week it will be the FZ's turn for a little "spin." Wonder where we should go??

I Fought the Weather for This Half Marathon Medal

2012-02-05T13:29:00.001-08:00

Have you ever gone to the beach, looked up and seen a seagull suspended in the air, flapping its wings but going nowhere as it tries to fly directly into a stiff wind? Well that was me today, as I ran the Galveston Mardi Gras Half Marathon.

I'm on a quest this year...I want to run a half marathon every month in 2012. Last month it was the Houston Aramco Half Marathon. This month it's the Galveston Mardi Gras Half Marathon. Even though this race was a relatively short distance from home, I chose to stay at the Tremont Hotel in Galveston...a block away from the start line...rather than risk the high possibility that bad weather and fog would get in my way of reaching the start line.

Tremont Hotel, one of the Mardi Gras arches near it's entrance.
The arches are a Galveston Mardi Gras tradition.

I haven't stayed at the fabulous historic Tremont House in years - not since my husband passed a way. It was a favorite getaway of ours. The hotel is gorgeous! Built in the 1800's, it's restored to a fine jewel of a hotel, with hardwood floors and high ceilings in each room, gorgeous bathroom, luxurious bed linens, many excellent boutique restaurants within a block or two. It was a nice personal treat to myself, sort of a lap of luxury evening before the race the next morning.

And what a race it turned out to be. This morning's race day weather included 45 degree temperatures, steady rain, and a strong 25 mph wind, gusting to 35 mph, coming straight out of the north. The nice thing about being so close to the start line for a small race such as this one, is that I could walk out the door and head for the start line, just minutes before the race starts. The hardest part about doing 1/2 and full marathons is the logistics of getting to the start line, standing in possibly inclement weather waiting for the starting gun to go off.

I started chatting with a woman near me, as we waited for the start. She was getting back into running after a hiatus of a few years. She looked to be about 10 years younger than me and from her fine running physique, I was surprised to hear that she's not been running these longer distances for a few years.

I've run marathons in cold...and I've run marathons in rain...but this is the first time I've run a race in cold, windy rain. This was ugly! The first 3 miles of the route took us down the Galveston Seawall heading south, northerly winds at our back, toward 45th Street, where we did a several-block loop and returned back to the Seawall heading north...straight into that strong cold, northerly headwind.

Just before I got to the turnaround point, a pair of young women, adorable in their purple tutu's, caught up with me and commented on how they were impressed with my pace (do I really look that old?) and that it took them a long time to catch up with me and pass me. They asked me if this was my first race (really...do I really look that old?). This was their second 1/2 marathon so I congratulated them and wished them a good run and then they moved on ahead and gradually extended their lead enough that I could no longer pick them out from the other runners.

Now I had to run almost 9 miles straight up the Seawall - straight into that headwind - before the route turned us around and took us onto the Strand in downtown Galveston and over the finish line.

So...back to those seagulls. The headwind was so strong as I was running north along that Seawall, that I felt like those seagulls must feel. My "wings" were flapping furiously, but I was making very little headway! Not only were those headwinds hindering my forward progress, they were even knocking me off balance periodically with the strongest of the gusts. The rain was stinging against my face, being driven nearly sideways by the wind. If I wasn't so cold and miserable, I'd have laughed out loud at how ludicrous this was!

"Hang in there, hang in there," I kept telling myself. "This miserable strong wind will be at your back the last 3 miles." Past the mile 8 marker, past the mile 9 marker...and then the turnaround to head back toward town and the finish line. Ah....! The wind was now at my back and there was a noticeable improvement in my pace. The effort necessary to forward locomote was noticeably less. It was as if I were running downhill.

The full marathon was a two-loop version of the half marathon route and as I made the turn at mile 11 toward downtown, the eventual winner of the full marathon passed me by. Ouch! That always hurts, but at my age and pace is inevitable. At mile 12 I was pretty much spent, my legs used up from having to dig in and "drive" myself forward for 9 miles against 25 mph winds. Running into such a strong headwind is equivalent to running uphill. I had to drive my legs harder than usual to overcome the resistance.

I walked the distance between the mile 12 and mile 13 markers and then broke into a run again. It was pride that forced me to run across the finish line, run as the finish line cameras snapped away.

I was pleased with myself for having run nearly the entire 13.1 miles, even though my time for that distance was disappointingly slow. Guess that headwind really affected my pace. But what really matters to me is that I did run nearly the entire distance. This, compared to the Houston race 3 weeks ago, in which I walked much more in the last 4 miles.

I grabbed a slice of pizza and a banana at the finish line then hastened to the hotel, changed out of my wet running clothes - I didn't even bother to clean up - and then checked out of the hotel. A stop at McDonalds for a large cappuccino was foremost on my mind at this point. Then it was a relatively short drive back home, where I savored my cappuccino, ate the tacos I purchased at Jack in the Box enroute, before heading into the shower to clean up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the Galveston Mardi Gras Marathon Facebook page:

the race directors would like to thank everyone for their support today. RUNNERS for braving the conditions and running in such adverse conditions. THE VOLUNTEERS for hanging in there to help make this race a success, the City of Galveston for allowing us to put on this event in their great city and our wonderful sponsors. I will say that in 25 years of putting on events, this was the most challenging conditions for the participants and volunteers. Thanks for making this event a success.

The Valley Between Two Half-Marathon Peaks

2012-01-28T09:16:00.000-08:00

There's always this enormous anti-climactic sense of idleness after running a half or full marathon. It's this ludicrous sense of, "Now what?" that washes over me every time I hang another medal in the medal case. It's totally irrational. I should be reveling in a sense of accomplishment but, instead, find myself in the void of "purposeless-ness" that comes from devoting mental and physical energy to getting ready for a race, doing the race, and then having nothing on the horizon to train for.

As a result of this, I find myself increasingly filling my schedule with more races. My next half-marathon is just 3 weeks after this Houston one...the one that I've just completed. Barely time to recover - more a taper-down than anything - before I'll be doing it again. This time, it will be the Galveston Mardi Gras Marathon and Half-Marathon.

So in between these two events, I drove over to Mandeville for a couple of days' visit with son and family. No running involved. Just visiting time, play time with the grandkids, a visit to the New Orleans Childrens Museum.

Now it's the weekend before the Galveston event and I've put in a moderate-distance run today, and will probably get one more longish distance run in before tapering back down to a couple of short distance runs before next Sunday.

A Hard-Earned Finish This Time

2012-01-18T17:07:00.000-08:00

I'd like to say that I was well-prepared for this year's Houston half-marathon, but I wasn't. In fact, things were looking so dismal that I wasn't even sure I'd make the effort at all. My running had dwindled to none at all the whole month of November because of a chest cold, which left me very little time to get it back on track, especially with the holidays looming between my ability to train and race day.

I did the best I could. But right up until marathon week, I still had doubts.

It took some self-convincing to even drive down to the Fitness Expo on Friday to pick up my race packet. I browsed the vendors half-heartedly. Bought some logo wear at the official marathon gear booth. But the energy in the exhibit hall got me psyched. It reminded me of all those years I'd been doing this event...the full marathons, the half marathons...and how good it felt to complete it.

Bill Rodgers and Joan Samuelson

And that's really all it took to make my decision to do it.

So I set a goal for myself to run the first 9 miles - where the route turns back toward downtown and the finish line - and would then give myself permission to walk as much as I needed, those last 4 miles. This decision actually removed a huge burden. I wouldn't put pressure on myself to do well...just finish it.

Saturday was an easy day, which gave me some time to figure out the best way to handle driving myself up to the start line. Past years I've had someone drive me there, meet me several places along the route, and then meet me after the race to drive me home. This year I needed to figure this out for myself, figure out a solution for carrying the car key with me, carry some cash, my drivers license and insurance card - both car insurance and health insurance. I didn't want to leave a wallet or purse in the car as temptation for thieves.

A small, thin lanyard solved the problem of the car key. It was safely tethered around my neck and the weight of the key carried inside my jogbra in my "cleavage." The insurance cards and drivers license, along with my cellphone, were locked in the center console of my car. Some folding money was tucked in the sweatband of my hat. My PowerGel, normally taking that cleavage space, was instead pinned inside the waistband of my shorts. This was actually a good solution and I think I'll continue to do this in future.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The alarm was set for 5:00 AM but I woke early and was up and moving by 4:45 AM. A bowl of Cheerios, brush my teeth, pull on my running clothes and I was ready to gather my things and head out to the garage and get going.

Parking turned out to be painless. Into downtown, onto St. Joseph Parkway, right onto San Jacinto St, right onto Leeland and one block down, there was the perfect parking lot at the corner of Leeland and Caroline. The worst part was arriving there more than an hour before race start. And it was cold...below 40 degrees. I stood in my assigned corral and froze and shivered until the gun went off. Then, of course, being in the 3rd corral, we all still had to wait another 10 minutes before the mass of runners at the back of the pack were able to move forward toward the start line.

So much was improved this year for the race! The race organizers added a third corral for the runners. They added huge pace signs, which greatly improved organization of the runners within the corrals. They changed up the finish line, the entrance into the Convention center after the race, and the layout of the various post-race stations inside the hall, which really made the post-race experience stress-free and so much easier!

I truly surprised myself by making it to mile 9 without walking, except for brief walks on the uphill portions, which I have done the last couple of years anyway. At the turnaround near the 9 mile marker, I made the turn and then started to walk, until the 10 mile marker. This point of the course begins a long gentle downhill stretch toward Allen Parkway. One of my own rules for running is to never walk on the downhills.

Gravity is our friend when it comes to running. So I picked up the pace and ran all the way to Allen Parkway, down the entrance ramp and along the parkway until I reached another short gradual uphill. I was losing some steam but at this point, was surprised I'd been able to run as much as I had. I wasn't disappointed in my performance in the least.

I managed to break into a run again, once past that little rise in the road, and ran into downtown and the last mile. This stretch always kicks my butt, no matter how well I'm trained, or whether I've just run 25 miles or 12 miles. But then, as I got within 3 or 4 blocks of the turn to the finish line, the noise of the crowds got me going again toward the finish line.

Another finish, another finisher's medal. And a decent time - better than last year's - all things considered.

post-race lunch!

Working on a Strategy

2012-01-10T19:51:00.000-08:00

So, with the cold and rain these last few days I've had time to think about Strategy for the Waffle House Grand Tour. I've scooped up ten of the Waffle Houses within easy striking distance of home and have maybe a dozen more that I could easily collect in one day here in the Greater Houston area. And another day ride would collect all of them in the Beaumont-Port Arthur-Orange area.

But I've decided to leave those uncollected for a while. The rules state that a Waffle House can be collected only one time. I may need to have these in reserve near the end of the year when I need to collect some points in a month when I have no trips planned. One award category is to collect at least one Waffle House per month. I think I'll save the ones south of the city, the ones north of Beaumont, and the ones near Austin for this purpose. Right now I have no trips planned for February, October, and December.

The rules for doing a Waffle House SS1k have not yet been announced and I realize that I'm better off leaving some of those Waffle Houses near home uncollected in case I want to use them as start or finish locations for a SS1k. So I think I'll leave the ones along the I-10 corridor - in Katy and in Baytown - plus the one in Webster for this purpose.

Also, because of these as-yet-undisclosed SS1k rules, I won't "go for broke" along the I-10 corridor in Louisiana. I could easily collect all of the Waffle Houses between Orange TX and Covington LA in one trip to my son's house in Mandeville. But I won't. I may need these to fulfill the requirements for the SS1k's I know I can collect going to and returning from the IBA party in Jacksonville.

The tendency, with the competitive spirit being displayed for this event, is to get out there! But stepping back, looking at the big picture, I can see tremendous opportunities to collect Waffle Houses over the next 12 months, given my travel plans. There's no need to panic or to push too hard, too fast. Should be an interesting year.

More Waffle Houses

2012-01-09T08:24:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning was cloudy, but no rain yet, so I decided to stray a little further afield and collect some more Waffle Houses in the Greater Houston area. I have several routes plotted in Microsoft Streets & Trips, so loaded one of them into my GPS and then backed my FZ out of the garage for another day of riding and photographing.

This day's route took me north of Houston, up near Bush Intercontinental Airport and then further north to Conroe and then back down to Humble before finishing up and heading home. A little longer loop than the one on January 5 - this time, 134 miles to snag 5 Waffle Houses.

Waffle House #6 - Will Clayton Parkway at Bush Intercontinental Airport:

Waffle House #7 - N. Beltway 8 at Hardy Toll Road:

Waffle House #8 - League Line Road in Conroe:

Waffle House #9 S. Loop 336 in Conroe:

Waffle House #10 - FM 1960 at I-45:

There are now nine riders who are actively collecting Waffle House photos. About 35 folks are signed up to do this Grand Tour.

This coming week, weather permitting, I plan to hit the ones that are south of Houston, down near Galveston one day, and another day collect the ones that are west of the city, out near Katy. After this coming weekend, when I run in the Houston marathon, I can concentrate a little more on this Grand Tour. I have an all-day route planned to collect the ones out near Beaumont TX. I have a couple of items to deliver to my grandkids, so have a route planned to scoop up as many Waffle Houses as I can between here and Mandeville LA...and it's a bunch!!

Stay tuned for the next Waffle House Grand Tour report...

Herding Ducks

2012-01-07T15:40:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning feeling very guilty for having not run at all this past week. I really must get up and get a run in today...maybe 5 miles. I'm still unsure about next weekend's Houston Marathon event, but I'm going to play it by ear, pick up my race packet next Friday and then make the decision late Saturday or very early Sunday morning.

But back to today's run...it's a little cool and overcast this morning, but I was feeling good and was eager to get a few miles in. My five mile run usually consists of a loop through our neighborhood of CountryPlace, picking up all of the cul-de-sacs along the way, and doing the loop in a figure-8 pattern.

This morning I headed east to do the east side of the loop. As I neared the Golf Course Pro Shop, I decided to make a bathroom stop before continuing on toward the west side of the loop. But I was feeling pretty good and really wanted to do more than 5 miles, so I headed out the gate and up the hill to McHard Road. As I approached the intersection, the light was green but cars weren't moving. As I reached the top of the hill, I could see why: A line of Muscovy ducks had queued up at the intersection and were crossing the street, one at a time.

The duck at the front of the line was waiting until the duck in front had made it safely across the street. Interesting...

As there were five or six ducks in line, this was going to take a while. Meanwhile the light turned red, leaving the line of cars stuck again at the intersection. When I got to the light and could see what was going on, I crossed over to where the ducks were and "hastened" them across the street. They complied, some of them grudingly unfurling their wings and flapping across the street.

Not too many folks can say they served as a crossing guard for ducks!!

Thinking about this and chuckling to myself made the 3 mile loop down to Cullen and back just fly by! I just had to run the 2.5 miles of the west loop and then I would be home!

Waffle House Grand Tour - Off and Running

2012-01-05T20:49:00.000-08:00

Okay, so this is a real stretch for me. I mean, I don't exactly live in Waffle House Mecca. But I do have some trips planned for 2012, the routes taking me tantalizingly close to some Waffle House "hot spots."
So...I'm in. Registered, sent my money in, and now waiting to receive the rally towel and packet with instructions.

But I found myself staying at a Clarion Inn in Covington, right across the street from a Waffle House on Holiday Drive. Hmmm.... My son and his family drove the few miles from their house in Mandeville to meet me at the Waffle House for New Year's Day breakfast. But I've not yet received that all-important rally towel and have no idea if there's an acceptable "work-around" to collecting a suitable and acceptable photo of bike in front of this restaurant. In the absence of any guidance, I just pulled my bike up, lined it up nicely in front of the Waffle House, took a photo, and made sure the camera date/time were set correctly (for EXIF photo tagging). I also got a receipt from the Waffle House just in case.

So first Waffle House tagged - on New Year's Day, the first official day of the Grand Tour.

The following week we had fabulous weather here in S. Texas, so I did a little plotting using the Waffle House locator page, Google Maps, and Streets & Trips, and planned a short little ride that would scoop up 4 more Waffle House photos. An email to the rallymaster for this Grand Tour confirmed that, in the absence of a rally flag, I would need to include my face in the photos. I grabbed my little Gorilla tripod, my camera, my GPS, and then backed my FZ6 out of the driveway right after lunch to go collect a few more WH photos.

A short little circular route of just 65 miles would let me bag 4 more Waffle Houses:

#2. On Almeda-Genoa in Houston.

#3. On College Street in South Houston.

#4. On Fairmont Parkway in Pasadena.

#5. On W. Airport in Stafford.

It felt good to get my favorite bike out for a short spin, and when I returned, I routed three more short day rides to collect all the rest of the Waffle Houses in the Greater Houston area. I've decided that weekdays are best for doing this project. Fewer folks eating breakfast at Waffle House than on the weekends. So...whenever I wake up to a nice day in Houston, I'll head out in one direction or another.

A Fine Finish to 2011

2012-01-01T21:41:00.000-08:00

The much-anticipated "Last Ride of the Year" happened again, this one its 15th year, on December 30, 2011. The restaurant - Stagecoach - in Stockton AL gives the event its name...The Stagecoach Ride To Eat or, simply, Stagecoach RTE.

The last two times I attended this, it was cold and wet and not too conducive to parking lot chat. But this year was quite different. The weather was glorious!

My BMW and I left my home on Thursday, December 29, and headed east on I-10. It was a little cool -requiring use of my electric jacket liner for the first few hours - but it warmed up enough that I could remove the jacket and stuff it into a sidecase when I stopped for gas and a light lunch snack near Hammond LA.

I arrived in Saraland and the Microtel Hotel late afternoon and noticed a little coffee shop right across the side street from the hotel, so got unpacked, changed and made a beeline to that little cafe, where I ordered a decaf cappucino and bought a nice yogurt parfait with fresh strawberries, and some mini cupcakes - red velvet with sour cream frosting. Dinner.

The next morning was equally as glorious and even warmer than the day before. I didn't even don my electric jacket liner. Just pulled on my lightweight fleece pullover to wear under my jacket, and headed north on I-65 for the 20 miles to Stagecoach. A quick gas stop at the exit and I was soon pulling into the parking lot, which was surprisingly full for 9:30 in the morning! Wow! Last time - when it was cold and wet - I arrived at about the same time to a nearly empty parking lot, save for the short line of bikes backed up along the back edge.

Many, many MTF folks were there, and I'm pretty sure I missed saying hi to a number of them. I chatted for a while with groups in the parking lot then went inside and realized that even more MTF folks were inside eating breakfast. I didn't put this together at the time, but realized later that many folks were going to attempt the "Trifecta," which included Stagecoach lunch on Friday, lunch in Brooksville FL on Saturday, and lunch in Ona FL. Getting all of this in meant scarfing food at Stagecoach and then hitting the road before noon to make it to the second location.

No trifecta for me. I'd rather visit family in Mandeville on my way home from Stagecoach. So I sat with Bronce and his brother Darryl and had coffee and some toast, and then hooked up with Fletcher and Lewis and stood in line for the lunch buffet. By 12:30 PM the line had dwindled and the parking lot was beginning to empty out.

It was a wonderful ride to Covington, where I stopped for the day at the Clarion Hotel. I decided to stay here for two nights, since son and family had just returned from their holiday visit to family in California and I was pretty sure they had enough on their hands without having a houseguest.

The next morning Jeremy and the two grandkids picked me up at the hotel and brought me back to their house. We spent the day visiting, watching the A&M bowl game, and had new year's dinner at home.  That night, amidst rampant home fireworks displays, Jeremy drove me back to the hotel after making plans to meet me at the Waffle House next to the Clarion for a New Year's day breakfast.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been a year of triumphs and a year of loss. I completed another Iron Butt Association Silver Level National Parks Master Traveler ride. I ran in three half-marathons. One of those half-marathons brought me up to Lansing MI, where I had a nice visit with sister and family afterward. I had a wonderfully memorable visit with my mom, what ultimately would be my last, as she passed away on October 31.

The year is over; a new year is begun.   What will it bring? What paths will unfold in front of my journey through each season?

Rainy outside....cozy Christmas inside

2011-12-25T17:58:00.000-08:00

This is the time of year when damp, chilly days replace "hot and humid" in Houston. Very often it's the norm for Christmas day. Certainly this was true this year. The rains moved in the Friday before Christmas and stayed with us all weekend. But the rain is most welcome here in parched, rain-starved Texas.

Saturday I thought would be the perfect day to turn the oven on and start baking.

It made the house feel so good and smell so wonderful that I followed up with a pork loin roast in the oven and had a grand dinner Christmas eve.

As I was shuffling cookie pans in and out of the oven I remembered the little Jack antenna ball I'd purchased on my way home from Florida a couple of weeks ago. It was in the center console in my car so rescued him and added him to my Jack ball collection. This one is especially cute...a little elf, pointy ears and all!

Christmas morning should have been a long run morning for me, but the cold rain was a big deterrent and I finked out. Just means I'll need to get it done on Monday. Instead, I lingered over a pot of good coffee and moved a couple of laundry loads through the washer and dryer.

Then I headed over to visit stepson Bruce and his family for the afternoon. Two of his three daughters were there, along with their husbands. One of the daughters has two adorable little girls. The younger one greeted me with a "knee hug" and proceeded to show me all of her new things and those of her older sister.

We visited over cake, and I got a little bit of lap time from one of the little girls, while the other, older one shyly told me about her play horse and about the Christmas lights. I pulled out my cellphone and showed her some horse photos I'd taken in the past. She's definitely into horses right now!

The day is almost over, I'm watching Going My Way with Bing Crosby, and in another hour, I'll watch National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation.

The Dangling Carrot

2011-12-15T09:22:00.000-08:00

Always looking for ways to motivate myself out the door, the distance to McDonald's is about 3.6 miles. And it's all on beautifully new, safe sidewalks. It's an easy target to aim for and this morning seemed like the perfect morning to reach for that carrot. Cool and foggy...very foggy. Damp and drizzly. The perfect morning to reward myself at the far end with a McDonald's holiday drink.

What will it be? A peppermint hot chocolate? A caramel mocha? Or maybe a peppermint mocha? I thought about this the whole way there. The fog was ridiculous! Visibility was - at best - 100 yards, and in some stretches it was much less than that. It plays tricks on a runner. Accustomed to judging distance by landmarks up ahead - mostly those key "landmark traffic lights" - I was running "blind" for much of the outbound leg. But I knew that I had that reward waiting for me...eventually.

When I finally arrived at the McDonalds I was feeling righteous and opted for a plain cappuccino. No high-calorie, delectable peppermint or mocha drink for me this time.

While waiting in line to order, a man turned to me and asked if I had been running. I love it when this happens! Turns out he just ran the New York City Marathon, and we talked about that a bit, and he encouraged me to apply. "You simply must do it once, while you still can." I told him I was a bit intimidated by the logistics of the event, but he assured me it was easy, although his describing it to me didn't sound easy at all and was about as involved as I imagined it would be. Well, anyway, it was an interesting and nice chance encounter.

When I stepped up to the counter to order my drink, it was the same nice woman who was there the last time, the one who made the comment to me about my running and who said that I made her feel guilty, that she should be out there running, too. I remember making the observation in a previous blog entry that she looked like a runner, so no doubt she meant it. Well, this morning, when she took my order, she didn't take my money, so I thought, she'll finish ringing it up once she's made the drink. But she returned with it, handed it to me, and said this one was "on her." Oh, my! I thanked her profusely and wished her nice holidays. That was so nice! And she didn't need to do that.

I half ran, half walked those 3.5 miles back home: Run for a bit, slow down to a walk to take a sip of the wonderful, foamy cappuccino, then run a bit more. It didn't even matter that it began to rain lightly as I ran along...the warm and welcomed drink was carrying me along toward home.

Back to Panama City - Back to Old Friends

2011-12-10T11:54:00.000-08:00

Last March I came to Panama City and spent the week leading up to the IBA party in Jacksonville. It was a great opportunity to meet up with a long-lost high school friend and to reconnect after many, many years (story here: 2011 Panama City Visit).

It was such an enjoyable time, I made plans to do it again this year, staying at the same Marriott Grand Vacations resort as last year. A bonus week through Interval International made this possible. It dovetailed very nicely with my weekend on Cedar Key.

I decided to take US 98 from US 19 in Perry, and was nicely rewarded by great views and quaint towns along the coast...Carrabelle, Apalachicola, Port St. Joe, Mexico Beach. Some of the inspiration to take this route came from Alan Leduc's new book, "Passion in the Wind." I served as his editor for this book and, as I read his description of riding this road, I was struck by how much of Florida I still had not explored despite having lived in this state - two separate times - and having visited the state countless times.

Being in a car this time, rather than on the motorcycle, greatly streamlined the process of stocking up on groceries and getting to the resort. On the bike, I'd had to check in, unload the bike, then suit back up again to head to the grocery store. I was checked in, unpacked, and settled in by 4:00 PM. Nice! The resort is, as always with Marriotts, quite comfortable and luxurious.

While I was on the road, enroute to Cedar Key, Alan had emailed me all of the InDesign files for final edit and review, one for each chapter of the book, with the plan to have all of the editing completed and files to the printers by the end of the week. Therefore, my top priority for Monday and Tuesday was to work my way through all 16 chapters of Alan's book and have the editing complete by Tuesday night. This is a process I enjoy and I appreciated the excuse to relax in comfortable suroundings for a couple of days after being on-the-go quite a bit the last four days.

Monday afternoon I made contact with friend Sandy, and we made plans for the balance of the week. I spent most of that day working on Alan's book. Tuesday late morning I took a little break from editing and drove over to St. Andrews State Park and walked out onto the piers and enjoyed the views before letting the GPS lead me to Schooner's right on the beach for some fried oysters and a beer. That afternoon I returned to finish the book chapters and to send Alan my own personal congratulations on his job well-done along with lyrics to a song that I thought he would enjoy.

Wednesday morning I got a nice 3 mile run in and then cleaned up and drove over to Pier Park to meet her for lunch. A nice bowl of crab and corn chowder, then a stroll through the shops and a cappucino at Starbucks.    Sandy then had me follow her to the house she shares with her mom, so that I could visit with her mom, who I haven't seen in decades! She's chipper and reasonably spry for her age and we did some reminiscing and got caught up with each other's lives.

When I returned to the Marriott, I had an email from Alan, sent to all on his private book-update distribution list, letting us all know that the book was official done and the files had been delivered to the printer's.  Excellent news!

Thursday I totally chilled out and did absolutely nothing. Good for me! But on Friday morning, I got up, braved the cold temps, and got a nice 5 mile run in. By the time I'd finished, the sun had warmed things up considerably.    That afternoon, I met Sandy and her sister Marcia at a convenient point enroute to the historic district of St. Andrew, and I parked and locked my car and joined them in theirs as we headed for an early dinner.

I've been craving oysters on the half shell ever since I arrived in Florida a week earlier but have had no joy finding any. I have eaten more than my share of fried oysters this week, but nothing beats large, moist, succulent and slightly salty oysters, topped with horseradish and slurped off of their shells.

They took me to Hunts Oyster House, the perfect place - rustic, well-worn, and efficient. When we arrived on the waterfront, there was a small open air market underway and we browsed the vendors a bit, I bought a very unique book and chatted with its author for a bit. It was then time to cross the street to Hunt's before it got too crowded. We found three stools at the bar - exactly what we'd hoped for - and proceeded to eat ourselves silly, stuffing ourselves with oysters. The two young men doing the shucking were pleasant and efficient, as they placed a tray in front of me and proceeded to place the oysters on the tray, one by one, as they shucked them. Can't get any fresher than that! They were large and juicy...and they really hit the spot! After eating a dozen raw oysters, I ordered a half-dozen baked. We each had a glass of pinot to wash it all down.

There's a pretty park just down the street called Oaks By the Bay Park, and the town puts up lighted decorations. According to Marcia, they've only been doing this for a couple of years, but it was a very nice display, revealed gradually as we walked the loop through the park.

Afterward, we went to a delightful wine bar called The Purple Grape (they need to update their website - it still shows their old location). The interior decor was very well-done, with cozy group seating areas, some high tables with stools, low tables that seat two. We sat at the wine bar. The menu was a bit overwhelming with choices. I ordered from the "new arrivals" section of the menu and had a glass of Adelsheim pinot gris from Oregon and it was wonderful! This place used to be down on Panama City Beach but recently moved to this location. The gal working the wine bar told us that business is much better at this new location, getting much more walk-in traffic. I can see why.

On the way back to the car, we poked our heads into one of the funky shops along the main street. I couldn't tell what merchandise was new and what was second-hand. It was truly a bargain-hunter's treasure-trove of unusual women's clothing...definitely not my kind of clothes, nor my kind of shop, but Sandy and Marsha were having fun and the very nice proprietor eventually came over and joined us to chat.

The evening over, they dropped me off at my car and we said our goodbyes, with promises to visit each other in Texas, New Orleans, Panama City...We'll work it out. Somehow.

Saturday I'll watch the Army-Navy football game, start packing, and then I'll hit the road for home on Sunday morning.

A Great Reason to Head Back to Florida

2011-12-08T17:56:00.000-08:00

"Wizard's Wild Weekend"...There's not much better reason to turn around two weeks later and head east, back across I-10, to Florida.

I was just in Florida two weeks ago, and now I'm heading back east...again. But Wizard's Wild Weekend - an event that has become an annual tradition - was being held the first weekend in December. As always. Kevin Healey and his wife Deborah put this event on every year and it usually draws an interesting group of riders. It's held on Cedar Key, a quaint island just off the gulf coast of Florida, up near Chiefland, where the state of FL takes a bend and becomes the part of the state referred to as the panhandle.

In the years that this event has been held, I've only missed one year, and that was two years ago when I was in Hawaii visiting son and family for Thanksgiving...definitely a good reason to miss it. But not too many other reasons could keep me away. It's so kicked back and relaxed.

I arrived Friday afternoon, early, and checked into Seaspray, a small apartment building with just a half dozen or so two-story condo units...two bedrooms, 1 1/2 baths, full kitchen, living room, dining room, and a nice second story balcony with sunset views. I was in need of a run, so got changed into running gear and headed out for a 5+ mile run before the others starting to arrive.

Friday night group dinner was again at the Rusty Rim, a neat place on the dock, sitting out over the water. The group was noticeably smaller than in previous years, but no less enjoyable. A group were gathered outside at "Richard's Corner" on the dock. One member of our group is named Richard and it couldn't have been more fitting that this corner be named as such.

Saturday morning I was able to join the group for breakfast at Annie's Cafe for the first time ever. There was a good reason why I got that run in the afternoon before...normally I get that run in Saturday morning and miss the fun and chatter of the group breakfast.

While the rest of the group rode over to Horseshoe Beach for lunch, I stayed behind with friend Ray and had lunch at the Pickled Pellican, on their outdoor deck overlooking the Gulf. I ate here last year and knew it was the place to go for lunch this year, as well. I wanted fresh oysters, but had to settle for fried oysters, which were a little disappointing...dry and overcooked. But the red velvet cake ice cream from the ice cream parlor down the street made up for it.

Saturday night dinner is the main attraction and was again held upstairs at Sea Breeze. The smaller group allowed us to all eat at the same long L-shaped table. It was a quieter bunch this year, and Kevin told only a few short stories about some of the attendees. This is usually the highlight of the evening, since Kevin is such a great storyteller.

Sunday morning I got another good run in - about 3.5 miles - and passed by Annie's Cafe only by chance to see Ray's bike parked in front, so I went inside and joined him for a cup of coffee before he hit the road and I headed back to the condo to clean up, pack and hit the road myself.

Another great - if a little quieter - Wizard's Wild Weekend is done.

Talking About It Doesn't Get It Done

2011-11-30T12:27:00.000-08:00

No, it doesn't. And there was plenty of talk about it over the Thanksgiving holidays with my son. The gist of the conversation was this:

I sure do miss my Dodge pick-up truck. I must have liked it, since I owned two of them over the years. I'm sorry I got rid of that last one.
I enjoyed these trucks.
I appreciated their carrying capabilities...things like bags of mulch and other bulky items, getting the bicycle in to the shop for a "tune up."
I didn't like the way the truck rode. It was very...well...truck-like.
But I sure do miss that last Dodge pickup truck, a beautiful dark metallic gray color with silver fender flares and rocker panels. It was a quad-cab and nicely appointed.
I sure would like to get something bigger than this sedan, something I can get my bicycle into the back of, something that sits taller, has greater visibility than a sedan.

My four-door sedan is perfectly adequate; it's comfortable, has a luxurious leather interior and some nice features, and gets great gas mileage (up to 35 mpg highway), but the drawbacks of a four-dour sedan become painfully apparent when I need to carry something big in the trunk.

But - dang it! - I had new car fever, and no amount of common sense was quelling my interest or discouraging my roving eyes.

I'd been noticing CUV's on the road in my travels recently, and had been taking mental notes. Some were too small, their short wheelbases creating noticeably choppy rides as they cruised on down the interstate. Some were too boxy and radical in design. Some were just too big. Some were looking quite dated and old.   Of the ones I liked the looks of, the list was quite short. Nissan Murano...Chevy Equinox...Buick Enclave...Kia Sorento...Mazda CX9.

The Monday morning after I returned from Thanksgiving at my son's, I got onto the USAA website and - just for grins - requested a quote for a Chevrolet Equinox. It was one of the few that I liked. After submitting this request, I realized that copies of this request were also sent to the participating USAA Program Chevy dealers in the area.   Yikes! Oh, well...in for a dime, in for a dollar. So I requested a quote for a Mazda CX9, another CUV that I liked. Both the Equinox and the Mazda CX9 are rated very highly by the auto reviewers. The CX9 is rated first in its class by a number of auto writers, including Motor Trend, Consumer Reports, US News. The Equinox is rated second in its class by those same reviewers.

Within two hours, I received a phone call from a really nice woman at Munday Mazda. Actually, I had their webpage open on my computer, getting their address and phone number, when they called me. I was planning on heading up there, USAA quote in hand, anyway. Now I had a contact person and an appointment to meet her at 11:00 AM.    Automated email replies were starting to roll in from various Chevy/GM dealers in the area, but no personalized emails or phone calls had come in yet, by the time I left the house to drive to the north side of the city.

On impulse, I ran back inside and grabbed the spare set of keys to my car and rummaged in the safe box to get the title. Who knows? Might need them.

It Was a Great Thanksgiving Weekend!

2011-11-28T16:21:00.000-08:00

Cherry pie, sweet potatoes, and ingredients for the green beans tucked safely in an insulated carrier, I got in the car and drove to Mandeville LA to spend Thanksgiving weekend with son and family. It was Thanksgiving day morning, and the roads were relatively empty of traffic until I neared Baton Rouge LA.

When I arrived, I immediately rousted the family from the comforts of their house and made them get out with me for an impromptu Turkey Trot jog around the neighborhood. I quickly changed into running clothes, grabbed Mimi and buckled her into her jogging stroller. Daughter-in-law Christina got grandson Trevor into his shoes and we all headed out. Son Jeremy felt he needed to stay behind, since the turkey was in the oven and he didn't want to leave it unattended. We went around the block - about 1.5 miles - and it was just what we all needed. Mimi fell asleep in the stroller, Trevor burned off some excess energy, and Christina got her walk in. Mimi and I jogged ahead of the two of them, and then doubled back to meet up with them and walk the remaining distance. Perfect way to work up an appetite!

The feast was wonderful! Christina made fresh cranberry relish, the turkey came out perfectly moist, and the sweet potatoes browned up nicely in the oven. The baby green beans with cherry tomatoes in garlic butter sauce were very tasty - a new-to-me recipe and well-worth keeping for future use.

It was a low-key weekend spent playing with the grandkids, helping out doing yard work, and just generally doing nothing. Lots of leaves and pine needles to rake!

Since my son and his family will be spending Christmas in California, they decided to get a Christmas tree set up. Jeremy headed out on Friday morning and returned with a beautiful tree, a nice tall and full tree. He spent the rest of the morning getting it set up, and Christina and he pulled the decorations out of the attic and started in getting the tree decorated. A smaller artificial tree was set up in the sun room, as well.

I managed to get a run in, every day that I was there, in the spirit of the Runners World Holiday Running Streak. I went out for a run Sunday morning and decided, while doing the run, that I should get back to the house, clean up, and then head for home. Christina and Jeremy have had a long stretch of house guests, startiing with me over the halloween weekend and followed by an extended visit from Jeremy's dad. My visit over Thanksgiving came close on the heels of his dad's visit and I could sense that they all needed some "alone time." Cleaned up and packed, I kissed them all goodbye and headed for home Sunday morning.

Good Day Today - Getting Ready for Thanksgiving

2011-11-23T12:50:00.000-08:00

My morning began with a reluctant start to a morning run which quickly turned into a delight! I thought of every excuse not to head out the door to get this done, but I also thought of every reason to do it. Just do it! The weather was absolutely perfect! 55 degree temps, perfectly clear skies, gently breeze from the north. Once I got out there, once I ran the first few miles, everything fell into place. Perfect!

My morning run completed, next it was time to dig in to the portion of tomorrow's Thanksgiving menu that I've claimed responsibility for. First order of business: make my son's favorite pie...cherry! I use canned tart cherries and canned sweet cherries, both packed in water. No pre-made pie filling for me! Too sweet for my palate and not nearly as interesting as using those tart cherries. If I could reliably obtain real bing cherries at a decent price, I'd prefer those. The canned tart cherries recipe is from my mother-in-law Smith. She could make a really great cherry pie! Ohhh, the house smells so good, now!

Pie out of the oven and cooling, I started in on the sweet potatoes. I agree with my son and daughter-in-law that the traditional southern sweet potato casserole is pretty disgusting. I like just plain baked sweet potatoes but wanted to make something a little different, something I could make ahead and bring with me. I found a recipe for gingered garlic sweet potatoes and... bingo! That sounds perfect...different...interesting. I got the potatoes peeled, cut into chunks, and boiling on the stove then took a break to eat lunch - some homemade chicken noodle soup. Gotta admit that I can make a pretty good chicken soup. The secret ingredient is garlic.

Potatoes cooked to softness, drained and mashed, I minced the fresh ginger and fresh garlic and sauteed them in butter then added chicken stock and heavy cream and reduced it before adding to the mashed sweet potatoes. The mixture is whipped smooth and now resting in a casserole dish, tightly covered with plastic wrap. This should reheat in the oven tomorrow and actually taste even better.

The final dish is baby green beans and cherry tomatoes in garlic butter sauce. I'll bring all of the ingredients to make this at my son's house tomorrow, since it's easy and simple and doesn't take long. I'll be in charge of the turkey gravy, too. I make it from the pan drippings drained of fat and cornstarch. Simple.

My cat is sitting on my lap, all curled up in a ball sound asleep as I write this. Hmmm....a nap in front of some old movie sounds like a perfect way to spend the afternoon.

First Run After a Cold - The Trials for Us Allergy-Prone Folks

2011-11-21T10:50:00.000-08:00

It wasn't pretty. In fact, it was downright "ugly." But I did get up this morning, and I did put on my running clothes, and I did leave the house. I even started out at a good jogging pace, too. Kept it up all the way through the first two miles.

Then I got into mile three. It was warm. It was humid. A change from what it's been here and in Florida the last two or three weeks. My lungs felt like a sumo wrestler had me in a bear hug. Asthma sufferers know exactly what I'm describing. You see, when I do get a cold - which has been very infrequent for the last decade or so - it can never be described as "slight." It will trigger my asthma.

Well, finally, whatever this virus was, it decided to go elsewhere, leaving me tired and four weeks behind in my running. So this morning I decided to give it a go. Hopefully it won't be too hard to get back to where I was, training-wise. I ran a good 9 mile run 4 weeks ago...today I ran a pitiful 3 miles.

Taking the Good With the Bad...

2011-11-19T17:26:00.000-08:00

I have lost track of how many times I've ridden across I-10 between TX and FL. Dozens of times, probably. This time it was to participate in the annual Florida Coast2Coast ride to raise money for Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, and then to spend a week at Marriott Grande Vista in Lake Buena Vista, and capped off with running a half-marathon in St. Petersburg FL.

The trip over to the Tampa area was easy and blessed with good weather. I made it to Marianna FL for the night (675 miles), first day on the road, and then rode the remaining 350 or so miles to Seffner (near Tampa) where the Florida Coast2Coast Ride would begin. It was a pleasant evening in Seffner meeting and greeting familiar faces and meeting new ones. I worked the registration table Friday evening and again Saturday morning, and then our little group - the last to leave - departed for the Atlantic Coast side of the state. Four of us set out on the designated route - Ray, Steve, me, and Joe.

When Al puts this event on every year, there's no telling what route he'll send us on to get to Daytona. One thing is certain: it will not be the most direct route. No, far from it! This year's route measured out to 203 miles. By comparison, the most direct route - straight up I-4 - is about 123 miles. In true "Al fashion," the route immediately had us making frequent turns as we worked our way north of I-4 and then west of I-75. This is where the roads get small and interesting.

Within an hour, our little group got separated when I peeled off in search of a gas station bathroom. Ray and Steve stayed together, though, and took a Ray-inspired detour to have lunch at Gator Joe's on Lake Weir. I stuck with the route until I got to the middle of the state, north of Orlando, and chose to short-circuit directly to Daytona for a late lunch at the Ale House next door to the hotel.

I think everyone who rode the route had fun. We had a fun time at the after-ride get-together, although attendance was very low that evening. Too bad, because the grand door prize was two tickets to Disneyworld.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Throughout this first weekend in Florida I was still trying to shake off this cold or flu or whatever it was. My head continued to be congested, my ears full, and it had moved into my chest, causing a persistent cough.

I checked out of the Daytona Hotel late Sunday morning and headed south toward Orlando, where I'll stay the week in a nice two-bedroom, two-bathroom resort timeshare in Lake Buena Vista. I was looking forward to it and to doing not too much, to give this cold the boot.

On the way, I stopped at a running store - Fleet Feet - in Altamonte Springs - to buy a running hat. I'd forgotten to pack mine. There was a Starbucks next door so I spent some time just "chilling" and having a Vente Latte and a small pastry.

I could delay no longer, and headed to the resort hoping they'd take pity on this sick gal and let me check in early. Thankfully they did, and I got the bike unloaded, grabbed a personal pizza at the Pizza Hut on the resort property and then got back on the bike and rode over to a Publix grocery store to buy some food to stock the kitchen at the resort unit. I also bought a bottle of cough medicine. I was more than anxious to get everything unloaded, get changed into comfortable clothes and then just coddle myself and my head/chest cold for the rest of the day.

I was getting worried about the upcoming half-marathon the following weekend. This cold, which started October 31, had really kicked my butt. Add to this the fact that I have not gone for a single run since October 28. Not good. I'd hoped to get a long run in on Tuesday morning at the resort and then maybe a couple of short ones.

This just did not happen. Every morning I was very congested. It took a long steamy shower and several hours each day to get my head and chest cleared out enough to even breathe, never mind breathe under exertion. This is not looking good for the "home team!"

Friend Ray came over from Jacksonville Tuesday morning and stayed until Friday morning. We joined a couple of other riders for lunch at a neat place called Black Hammock Fish Camp in Oviedo, not too far north of Orlando. It was an easy ride into a pretty area called black hammock (see definition of a Florida "hammock"). I had just about the best blackened catfish I've ever had, and polished it off with a great slice of key lime pie.

We checked out the giant live alligator that lives in a pen next to the camp, before heading back to the resort. I was fairly well burned out by the time we got back.

Thursday Ray took me on a more ambitious ride for lunch to Inverness FL. We went the most direct route to get there, but Ray had plotted a very fine round-about route to get back to the Marriott.

Another winner of a riding day and I got to see Larry and Karen, a couple I've not seen for at least two years. We had a nice lunch at Stumpknocker's, right on the little main street of town. Larry grew up in this town, and told us that the building that houses Stumpknocker's used to be the Five & Dime store. A beautiful old courthouse sits on a square just at the end of this little main street. It is now an historic museum, but it's lovingly restored.

So five days at the resort and I've not gone for a run one single day while there. I need to make a decision about this upcoming half-marathon this weekend. I've been sick for 4 weeks. I've not run for 4 weeks. I've paid for the race, not that big a deal but the hotel for two nights in St Petersburg is going to cost well over $300 and then there will be three meals a day to pay for. It wasn't too hard to make the decision Thursday afternoon to cancel the hotel in St. Pete, save the money, and make plans to ride home to Houston this weekend, rather than running in that race.

I'm a little sad that I worked so hard up to the end of October to stay in half-marathon condition; I'm a little sad that I won't earn that really cool Women's Half Marathon finisher's medal. I'm also a little disappointed that I won't be adding the state of Florida to my little burgeoning list of out-of-state races. I'm already looking for a replacement Florida race.

Still Sick But Hopeful

2011-11-08T12:08:00.000-08:00

We're going on day 8 of this nonsense! Congested head! Congested chest! Blocked ears!

When will this end?? If were just a head cold, I'd attempt to get a few runs in. But the chest congestion makes it really hard just doing day-to-day stuff, never mind putting some miles on the ol' running shoes.

I'm hopeful that whatever training I've gotten in, up to this point, will be sufficient. I was on track until two weeks ago. And I ran a half-marathon near the end of September. Last long run was 9 miles two weeks ago. Last run was a short one, 12 days ago. I can only cross my fingers and hope this "crud" clears out real soon and that it's not set me back too much!

I leave day after tomorrow for Florida to run the Women's Half Marathon in St. Petersburg, traveling there by motorcycle. My stuff is all packed, bike is "prepped" for the trip. Weather should be great! Here's hoping I'm able to get one more long run in (maybe tomorrow??) and then a few more runs while I'm in Florida next week, prior to the race. Wish me better health and safe travels!

My Upcoming Trip...a Tradition

2011-11-08T11:57:00.000-08:00

Well, it's that time of year again. Time to trek back across I-10 east, from Texas to Florida, to participate in the Florida Coast2Coast Ride, see many friends, make new ones, and (hopefully) eat some good food while I'm there.

I plan to depart early Thursday morning, make it as far as Marianna FL for the night, then arrive in the Seffner, FL area by early afternoon on Friday. Close to 200 people are registered for this event...a great turnout, considering very little promotion was done for this year's event compared to previous years. There will be bikes of all types, sizes, and styles participating in the event. It's always a lot of fun cruising the parking lot at the start and at the finish of the event, to check out all of the "rides."

For the next week I'll "hang out" in the area, near Orlando, and hopefully meet up with a few friends who live in FL for some lunch rides. Otherwise, I'll just relax, get a few shorter runs in, and rest before the event the next weekend: the Women's Half Marathon in St. Petersburg FL.

The variety of activities on this trip presents a real packing challenge, when on a motorcycle. Shirts, socks, undergarments to wear while on the bike; shirts, pants, jeans, shoes to wear while off the bike, one or two nice outfits to wear in case I decide to go out for dinner; running clothes and shoes both for the weekday runs and the 1/2 marathon at the end of the week. Jacket and fleece for the cool nights; a pair of shorts on the off-chance there'll be a warm and pleasant day. Phew!

My trusty and favored FZ6 gets to go on this trip. The BMW got to see a few miles these last couple of months - riding out to Van Horn to serve as witness for the IBA BBG rides, and then the Jack Shoalmire Tribute SS1000 the next weekend. FZ6 hasn't gotten to go on a long trip in a while so she's deserving of this one.

I checked the tire pressures, moved the Garmin GPS cradle over from the other bike, put the topcase on, and cleaned her mirrors and windscreen. A couple of weeks ago I cleaned and lubed her chain. So she's ready to go! I'm ready to go!

Sidelined

2011-11-04T08:39:00.001-07:00

It was a great visit with family this past weekend! We were so busy, I hardly had time to think, never mind squeeze any runs in. Birthday party at Trevor's pre-school Friday afternoon, Pumpkin Patch fun run Saturday morning, Boo party at the museum for Trevor and Mom mid-day on Saturday while son and I stayed home with Mimi, party for my son and family and for another newly transferrred family to Stennis Space Center on Saturday afternoon, birthday party for Trevor on his actual birthday on Sunday afternoon, trick-or-treating with the grandkids on Monday evening, shopping for furniture for Mimi's room on Tuesday morning before driving back to Houston that afternoon.

Granddaughter Mimi was showing all the signs of not feeling well: runny nose, episodes of diarrhea, that something's-just-not-right fussiness. Lots of wiping wet noses, kissing snotty cheeks and I was guaranteeing that I'd catch whatever it was that she had. And I did. I started to feel it Monday afternoon, but wrote it off to allergies. My son was also showing symptoms, but then he suffers allergies as much as I do, if not more. But Tuesday morning I woke up with a scratchy throat and a head filled with fog and cotton, and my son stayed in bed a little later than usual that morning.

Here it is, Friday morning, and I'm still fighting this cold! How can a nose be stopped up and runny at the same time?! My chest feels like a combine was harvesting in there all night. No running for me this week. Nope! Maybe by Sunday I'll feel up to it.

Ah, but those sweet little kisses on sweet little cheeks were oh, so worth it!

Start 'Em Early!

2011-11-01T18:09:00.001-07:00

5:00 AM and 45 degrees of cold in Louisiana. It's Saturday morning and I was awake before the rest of the household. I'm visiting my son and his family and I'd registered all of us to participate in a 1K/5K Fun Run. The plan was for me to go ahead of the rest of the family to the race, pick up our race bibs and event shirts, which would buy some time for son and daughter-in-law to wake up the 4 year old and 1 year old, get them fed, dressed, stuffed into car seats and over to the event location in time for the 8 AM start of the fun run.

A prayer, the national anthem, and then the start. And off they went! Grandson Trevor ran with all his heart until he just couldn't run any more! The rest of us met up with son and grandson and we walked the rest of the course. Trevor's very first Fun Run!!

A Chronic Runner's Tales

2011-10-29T12:43:00.000-07:00

So what is a chronic runner? I would characterize myself as one. Chronic runner, that is. The term "avid" just doesn't seem to do it when describing my running habits and schedule. To me "avid" implies someone who goes out the door with an agenda: run farther, run faster, run speed intervals, run hills, run fartleks, run splits. No...this just doesn't describe how I run.

The descriptor, "chronic" just seems to fit. That's chronic, as in, "habitually" or "of long duration and frequent recurrence." I get up in the morning, roll out of bed, and pull on running gear quickly, before I've had a chance to change my mind. Out of habit. I do this three or four times a week. It's a well-ingrained habit. Two or three times a week I run 4 or 5 miles, one time a week I run a longer distance, determined by where I am on the race training schedule. The week after a half marathon...6 miles. Six weeks before a half marathon...7 miles. Two weeks before a half marathon...12 miles. My PR's are a decade behind me, now. I don't care if I never do speedwork again. Fartleks? Only if you count the sprint to the house that last tenth of a mile. Yep. I'm old and have become set in my ways...my running has been this way for a long time.

If some other activity bumps into a scheduled run on my calendar, there's no question which item gets scratched. A visit with friend over lunch, a weekend spent with son, daughter-in-law and grandkids, play rehearsals, serious miles on a motorcycle...these will definitely happen at the expense of getting a run in.

Of course, there have been many times when I've successfully mixed running with socializing or travel. Some of my most memorable runs have happened while I've been traveling. And this weekend I'll get to combine running with travel AND family: I'm spending the long weekend visiting my son and we're all going to do a Pumpkin Patch 5K/1K race on Saturday. This ought to be interesting! Stay tuned for the report!

Commitments....and Mosquitos

2011-10-27T12:43:00.000-07:00

They're "killing" me. Well, not really. But figuratively speaking, these two things - a full calendar and those blasted mosquitos - are really taking a 'bite' (pun intended) out of my running schedule.

The welts are still popping up in all sorts of unimaginable places on my body as a result of that long run I did on Sunday. The exceptional mosquito infestation here in Houston is all over the news. Nearly overnight, these pests appeared, making life outdoors nearly unliveable. I did a shorter run on Friday and had no problems with them. Just two days later, and they made my long Sunday run miserable.

I went grocery shopping yesterday after play rehearsal, and should probably count the multiple "hastened" trips in and out of the house to empty the trunk of my car of groceries as a workout. Never have I unloaded the trunk so quickly, never have I dashed in and out of the door with such efficiency! By the time I'd made that last trip, there were dozens of mosquitos hovering over my open trunk, drafting in my wake as I zipped back and forth from car to door.

I should have done an easy run on Tuesday morning, but just could not bring myself to go outside, sacrifice my tender flesh, my precious blood, to those mosquitos. And again this morning I woke up intending to go out for that run, but, I admit it...I chickened out. When I left the house at 8:30 AM for rehearsal, I noticed that there was a nice breeze, the temperatures were moderate, and humidity wasn't too bad. And neither were the mosquitos.

I guess this means that I should make the effort, get that run in tomorrow morning.

My Faithful Riding Partner...My Olympia AST Jacket

2011-10-26T02:29:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting here trying to remember when I bought this Olympia AST jacket. I'm thinking it was in late 2005 or early 2006. This model was brand-new to Olympia and was only available in one color - Dark grey (slate) with black ballistics - when I bought it from a BMW dealership on-line. At some later point, it became available in hi-vis yellow. That would have been nice to have.

I had discovered another Olympia jacket model, the Airglide mesh/textile jacket, in 2004 when I attended the International Motorcycle Show in Dallas TX. They had just been introduced, were being shown and sold at this show, and I came home the proud owner of an Airglide jacket: A black one with red accents. I loved it, loved the way it fit, loved the removable quilted jacket liner that could function as a stylish stand-alone jacket when off the bike. I now wear a silver-grey Airglide 2. Finding Olympia riding jackets has been a game-changer for me.

Fit had always been a huge problem for me when it came to motorcycle jackets. I had purchased many and sold nearly every one of them on e-bay when their shortcomings became evident. Being a short and slight woman, I found them all to be built for football players: Sleeves too long, too big in the shoulders and chest, too long in the torso. Alpinestars seemed to be the only brand I could find that was truly built for female riders.

I was wearing a red Alpinestars mesh/textile jacket prior to the discovery of this Olympia Airglide jacket. That Alpinestars jacket was okay; it had a removable membrane liner to make it waterproof, but it wasn't insulated. And it wasn't well-suited to cold-weather riding since the fit was not conducive to wearing bulky clothing underneath. I still have that jacket, occasionally pulling it out for local rides.

Then, a few years after discovering the Olympia Airglide jacket, I discovered that AST jacket, suitable for 3-season riding with its ample venting, removable quilted liner - just like the one that came with my Airglide - waterproof shell, supplemented by the permanent membrane liner. And I knew it would fit me perfectly, since it was the same cut/style as the Airglide.

Well, 6 years and possibly as many as 150,000-175,000 miles seem like plenty enough use out of this Olympia AST jacket. Lately I've noticed that the Velcro fasteners on the sleeve cuffs won't stay fastened...they come undone at the worst times: When it's cold, or wet, or cold AND wet. And the neck closure will frequently come undone whenever I fasten or unfasten the D-ring latch on the straps of my helmet. If I'm getting ready to remount my motorcycle, this inadvertent unfastening of my collar will often go unnoticed until I'm underway, going 70 mph, and then the cold air will pour into my neck and the jacket neckline will have blown open and been pulled back so much it will be virtually impossible for me to get that collar refastened while moving. Arghhh!

Notice the pale grey back
compared to the dark gray
sleeves.

I replaced the Velcro "hook" strips, but then discovered that it wasn't the "hooks" that were no longer working, but the "velvet" strips that were so worn and "fuzzed" that the hooks just couldn't get a grip. Replacing the "velvet" strips would have been a major undertaking. Sigh. Cuffs and collar that will not stay closed - totally unacceptable to me.

Otherwise, I was willing to overlook the fact that the dark slate grey color was badly faded across the back, the shoulders, the upper and lower sleeves, so much so that the jacket actually appeared two-tone grey. I was also willing to overlook how the sleeve vent zippers - nice rubberized waterproof zippers that they are - were becoming difficult to open or close. I used to be able to close the zips while underway, but no more. I have to wait until I'm stopped, often even having to remove the jacket to do so. Guess it's the permanent "bend" in the arms from the thousands of miles of wear that has made this so difficult these days.

And then there's that "funk" - that permanently imprinted B.O. - that the jacket has picked up from all those thousands of miles ridden in 90+ degree, even 100+ degree temperatures. I don't believe in washing my jackets by total immersion in water. To me, they're just never the same after being washed. Washing them seems to take the "starch" out of them, remove the water resistance of the Cordura fabric, wilt the "look" of the jacket. I rather like the grunged look they get after so many miles' use. I spot-clean them to remove major bug splats, mud, food, and other crusty stuff. But the impregnated "funk" is another matter. I noticed it on my last ride - the Shoalmire Tribute SS1000 last weekend. Phew! I could hardly stand myself!

My new AST jacket
in Sand/black

Yep! Time to retire the jacket. Last winter I had the good fortune to "score" a new one at a great close-out price - this one in the Sand color - at the Motorcycle Closeouts webpage. When I received it, I tucked it away in my closet until the time when I felt my first AST jacket was ready to retire. Well here it is...time.

But then the other day I began to mourn my decision to retire that original slate grey jacket and the fact that it fits me so doggone well. What if, when the day comes to retire this second new AST jacket, I can't find a suitable replacement for a jacket I love so much? No other brand of all-season jacket fits this petite and slight woman, not even the smallest size men's Aerostich, even with all the expensive custom 'mods' available. The AST is such the perfect jacket for all seasons.

So, impulsively, in the throes of "loss," I logged onto that Motorcycle Closeouts webpage to see if they still had any of these jackets left...just to see. Well, good fortune was smiling down on me. That plus the fact that I wear a size Small. The second generation AST jacket has been on the market for a couple of years, so I was surprised they still had a few of the first generation model in stock. They had only a limited size selection, the sizes that don't usually sell well: size XS, S, and the largest sizes. So I went ahead and bought another new AST jacket, this one in that slate grey color that served me so well...and at a greatly discounted price. Now I have a back-up jacket.

Bring on the cold, the wet, the cold and wet...I'm ready!

The Mosquito March

2011-10-23T08:46:00.000-07:00

Well....I thought I'd go ahead and get another long run in this week, even though I just did one four days earlier, on Wednesday. I just couldn't see how I was going to fit it in any other way, since every morning this coming week is taken up with play rehearsals.

So out of bed, running clothes on, a $10 bill folded and tucked away in that cute little zippered pocket on my running top, I headed out the door. I thought I'd run over to the McDonald's on FM-518 about 6.5 miles away. I'm really into their cappucino and their fruit & yogurt parfait, and this will make for a nice "destination" run.

It was very pleasant outside this morning...a slight low mist hanging over the fields, a certain dampness in the air that we've not felt here in a long time. My circuit through the neighborhood complete, I then headed out through the gate and onto the sidewalk running alongside the main roads, past that nice pond I've referred to in previous blog posts, the herons still working the water's edges, a handsome Muscovy duck watching over her half-grown ducklings still grey with their downy baby feathers.

When I was about a mile away from that "destination" McDonald's, I could almost taste the richness of their cappucino, feel the frothy milk on my tongue. The thought of the yogurt and fresh fruit parfait was making my stomach rumble.

The cold air inside the store gave me a chill, as I briefly ducked inside the restroom to use the toilet and to rinse the sweat off my face. I stepped up to the counter to place my order and the friendly woman at the cash register asked, "Have you been running? Good for you! You're making me feel guilty. I should be out there too!" Come to think of it, she looked like she could be a runner. She was about my age - and about my size - and said that like she meant it.

I sat down inside to eat my parfait and, when finished, locked that little cap on the lid of my cappucino into the open position and headed out the door and towards home. I'm getting pretty good at locomotiing while holding a to-go coffee and, after about 1/4 mile walking and sipping, I began to run again.

As I got out of the "strip mall development" area and back into more rural lands, I began to notice that the mosquitos were starting to swarm and actually make a landing on various parts of my body. Let me preface the rest of the story by saying that, because of the very dry spring and summer we've had here in South Texas, the mosquitos have been dormant. But we had a good rain here two weeks ago, and all those mosquito larvae that had lain dormant for all these months hatched - all at one time - and are now after blood! It's the worst mosquito infestation we've had in years, because they hatched all at one time.

I was running at a fairly slow pace, mostly to enjoy the coffee and keep it from sloshing out of the sip hole. But I clearly had a large mosquito target on my back and was going slow enough for the mosquitos to land and start biting. By instinct, I flailed my arms to dislodge the mosquitos, forgetting that the hand at the end of one of those arms was holding the coffee, and liquid flew out the hole, into the air, and onto my hand.

I picked up the pace a bit, until I was moving fast enough that the mosquitos couldn't land on me. They managed to keep up with me, though, and whenever I looked down, I could see a cloud of them swarming around my lower torso and legs. If I slowed just one tiny bit, they were able to land on my legs and arms and start snacking. Ughh!!

My legs were starting to "flag," reminding me that I had just done a long run four days earlier. "Why are you doing this to us?" They were hollering at me, trying to get my attention. It didn't matter. I wasn't listening. I was in self-preservation mode, legs be damned! Just 3 more miles of this torture, and I'll be home!

It truly was torture! What a predictament I found myself in! My legs were really balking at this pace, especially after 8 or 9 miles yet, if I slowed down, the cloud of mosquitos surrounding my body would immediately alight.

Finally! My house came into view! When I got up to the front door, I did one last little dance - flailing arms and legs to disrupt and remove any lingering mosquitos - and then dashed quickly in the door, into the safety of the house. Whew!

When I logged my distance and pace into my Runner's World online running log, I was astonished at the pace for such a long distance. As far as it being one of those LSD (long slow distance) runs...it was a long distance, just not a slow distance, thanks to those mosquitos.

We Are The Majority

2011-10-21T07:00:00.001-07:00

If you're like me and you're training for an upcoming half- or full marathon, you're following a training plan. There are dozens of plans out there, each with slight variations. But all of them advocate the same two elements: An increasingly longer "long slow distance" (LSD) run per week, and at least one, preferably two, rest or recovery days per week. Sources of well-respected training programs include: Runners World, which publishes several training plans at their website and offers real-time online coaching for its enrollees; and USAFit which provides a training plan for those who sign up for a local chapter of their program or follow it on-line. These two programs - along with many others that are similar - all have these two elements in common: An LSD run and one or two recovery days each week of the program.

So, getting back to that LSD for a moment...LSD implies not only distance, but the pace at which that distance is run. During the first week of a multi-week training program, this LSD typically starts with a distance of 5 or 6 miles and gradually increases week by week until this LSD approaches the race distance we're training for, whether it's a 12 to 14 mile LSD run in preparation for a half marathon, or a 22 to 26 mile LSD run in preparation for a full marathon. And as its name implies - long slow distance - it's done at a sub-marathon pace, i.e., S..L..O..W.

Here's the description for the LSD run at the end of the first week of training, taken from Runner's World's online training program:

Week #1, Day #7
5 MILES LSD
Today is your first long, slow distance (LSD) run. The long run is the backbone of any successful training program. It builds your aerobic base, increases your endurance, boosts confidence, and helps you rehearse some of the gear and fuel strategies you'll need for the race. It also helps you prepare for the psychological challenge of racing for a few hours. Since you'll be running farther, you can go out slower than you usually do. On these days your goal is just to complete the distance.

For us mere mortals who represent the vast majority of folks who line up at the start line for half or full marathons, starting a training program - whether it's for the first time, or after a recovery layoff - and running that first Long Slow Run of 5 miles is BIG STUFF! We add to this distance gradually, 10-20% increases each week, and next thing we know, we're running 12 miles and we're now confident that we can finish that half marathon. And we feel damn proud of ourselves for reaching that point in our training.

We run our race, maybe take a couple of weeks off from running, then slip into "maintenance mode" until the next race catches our eye, if at all. For many finishers of a marathon or half-marathon, this may not ever happen again, or won't happen until the same time next year when the training plan starts all over again from the beginning.

Don't let anyone tell you that 5 or 6 or 7 miles is not a "long run." Yes, there are those runners who eat miles like candy, cranking out double-digit mileage every day, running 30 miles on a Sunday. But they are a small minority. The rest of us - the majority of runners who do half- and whole marathons - why, we thank God or whatever deities we believe in that we made it to the end of that training program, worked our way up to and finished that last LONG SLOW DISTANCE RUN, be it 12 miles or 22 miles, and got to the start line injury-free.

A "long run" is a state of mind, not a statement of miles.

Mere mortals unite!

See you at the start line.

Pygmalion Wears Running Shoes

2011-10-18T14:10:00.001-07:00

If there's a connection between Pygmalion and running, I'll find it. But in the meantime, let me say this: 9:00 AM rehearsals and 7:00 AM runs are pretty much mutually exclusive.

I live in a great little community! We have so many activities...too many, if you're the kind of person who wants to do it all! One of the groups I've been active with has been the Players Club. We put on three stage productions every year, usually a musical, a melodrama, and either a murder mystery or comedy. Past productions have included Damn Yankees, South Pacific, The Odd Couple, just to name a few.

So this fall, our group is staging My Fair Lady. I didn't try out for a part, because I worried I couldn't make the commitment to daily rehearsals for this production. Working with the director, though, I set up the sound effects playlist on the computer and then offered to be a stand-in for anyone who couldn't make a rehearsal. Next thing I knew, I was recruited into the chorus. So here I am...committed. Now I need to figure out how to weave my runs into the rehearsal schedule.

A Fitting Tribute to an Outstanding Rider and a Great Man

2011-10-16T16:31:00.000-07:00

Jack Shoalmire SS1000 - A nationwide tribute

Jack Shoalmire 1942-2011
Taken at Big Bend Ranch State Park, February 2011

It started at 4:16 AM on Saturday, October 15, 2011 and ended seventeen and a half hours later, at 9:54 PM. My ride of 1,053 miles on some of Texas's most beautiful roads would join those of a hundred others', being done in all 50 U.S. states.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jack Shoalmire
Taken at Rio Grande Village, Big Bend National Park
February 2010

When the word got out that this event was being put together in memory and honor of Jack Shoalmire, I knew that I had to be a part of this. I immediately e-mailed back to the organizer to count me in. After all, I had just seen Jack six months earlier in Big Bend and had seen him many other times at other MTF events prior to that.

His sudden death has left a hole in the hearts of all of us who knew him and is a loss to the LD Riding Community as a whole. What better tribute in his memory than to complete those in-state Saddle Sore rides (1000 miles in less than 24 hours) in all 50 states, rides that Jack had started but never had the chance to complete.

The LD riding community really came together on this one!   As Howard Entman, the person responsible for proposing and then organizing this event, said...More than 100,000 miles were ridden in Jack's memory this day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I knew that this would be a momentous event. I also knew that, because of this, I didn't want to do a simple out-and-back "interstate blast." Last spring I routed a SS1000 for the MTF's regional Saddle-Sore event. I had a straight interstate route for the first-timers, but I also drew up a route to appeal to the experienced IBA members, a more difficult route, one that included over 600 miles on non-interstate two- and four-lane roads and passed through a number of small Texas towns and county seats. This would be the perfect route for a Jack Shoalmire Tribute SS1000. I convinced friend Steve to join me on this ride. He willingly agreed.

It was a lovely route. It headed south toward the Gulf coast of Texas, ran 150 miles southwest, skirting the coast, crossing inlets and bays along the way. Then it headed due north for 200 miles through the heart of the state's agricultural region to the eastern edge of Texas Hill Country just north of Austin. The next leg of the route was 100 miles ridden on one of Texas Hill Country's most beautiful motorcycle roads, Texas 29, with its combination of sweeping curves, blind hills, and rugged terrain filled with mesquite and prickly pear cactus.   Then southwest on US 377, skirting between windswept mesas and through some pretty ranch country. At Junction TX the route heads west to Ozona on I-10 then turns around and heads east to Houson on I-10, then right back to where it starts, just south of the city.

I made just one minor change to the route, sending it a little further east as it goes north out of Aransas Pass to Georgetown, in order to avoid Austin - and the traffic of a University of Texas home-game day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My zooty BMW is ready. I'm ready. So, with snacks, water, and Gatorade stowed in the left sidecase, it was off to Buc-ee's gas station, one mile from the house, to get my starting receipt for the Jack Shoalmire Tribute SS1000 Ride. I had two photos of Jack - a nice portrait-style shot of him taken while we were at Big Bend Ranch State park for lunch last February, another of him taken the previous year at Big Bend National Park with his red KLR. I also had printed out a copy of his obituary and had tucked all of these items together in the map pocket of my tankbag. My rear footpegs were in the down position. There was no question at all in my mind that Jack was coming along with me - and with all of the others - on this ride.

At 4:16 AM my gas tank was topped off and I had receipt safely tucked away in my tankbag. Now I just had to wait until friend Steve arrived from Tomball TX to join me.   By 4:30 AM we were headed south on TX-288 toward Angleton, Highway 35, and the Texas Gulf coast.

Okay, Jack. Hang on! We're off, heading south to start this memorial TX instate SS1000 in your honor!

It was pitch dark along Highway 35 and my imagination was cutting no slack. I knew that this was a high deer-density area because of the heavy vegetation and major Texas rivers that flow through here on their way to the Gulf of Mexico: Brazos River, Colorado River, San Antonio River, Guadalupe River. I was not sorry to see the first pink glow in my rearview mirrors, as the sun began to rise. As we were passing over the causeway on Aransas Bay, I looked over my left shoulder and was treated to the start of a gorgeous sunrise. Look, Jack! Do you see that? Do you see how calm the waters are, how the pelicans are poised on pilings and piers, waiting for daylight to reveal their breakfast, lurking just beneath these turquoise gulf waters?

The light was a soft golden glow when we arrived in Aransas Pass for our first stop for gas...and to mark the corner of our route. Steve and I had a small SNAFU at the planned gas stop. The gas station I'd scouted earlier in the year for the MTF SS1000 was not yet open for the day. The pumps were turned on, but the C-store was closed, a bundle of that morning's newspapers still sitting on the mat in front of the locked door. Someone overslept, did they?? And of course the pumps would not dispense a receipt. The message said, "Cashier has receipt." I took a photo of the pump's display and of the store itself, recorded the purchase and odometer reading, then rode across the street to a Chevron station to get an ATM receipt for date/time/location stamp and to use their restroom. Not a good start, but we were a little ahead of schedule, so not a problem.

Then another SNAFU as my GPS got totally lost trying to get out of Aransas Pass. Construction to widen Highway 35 and add limited-access on- and off-ramps had us totally "off route" and Jill was so busy "recalculating" she neglected to tell me to turn right onto US-181 north. But a quick discussion on the side of the road with Steve got us turned around and back on route. Hopefully this will be the only U-turn of the day.

The aroma of freshly plowed earth assailed my nostrils as we passed through miles and miles of cotton fields in Taft and Sinton and Skidmore, on our way to Beeville. Jack, can you smell it?   Hundreds of giant wind turbines were lined up to the horizon, doing their work and taking advantage of the prevailing southwest winds.

We stopped in Kenedy for gas and to mark the route, showing that we stayed east of I-37 on US-181 and TX-80, and didn't take that easy and fast route. On up through the town of Luling with its watermelon-shaped water tower - and home of the Luling Watermelon Thump and some of the best BBQ in the state, City Market - and then continuing north to Georgetown. We very carefully skirted Austin to avoid what was sure to be a crush of traffic heading towards the home game between University of Texas and #6-ranked Oklahoma State.

Our next corner was Georgetown, where we turned west onto TX-29. Corner marked with a gas receipt and a snack of peanut butter crackers and Gatorade, I began what was to be yet another pretty leg of this trip. TX State Highway 29 heads west from Georgetown, through Bertram and Burnet, past the gorgeous Buchanan Dam, and then through Llano and Mason, both towns being county seats with pretty courthouse squares.

Coming out of Burnet, the highway begins a gentle downhill journey with gentle curves that sent me down and around a final bend where, first, a nicely restored iron trestle bridge came into view and then, off to the right, the Buchanan dam was gradually revealed.   It was an impressive sight! The lake at its base glistened a brilliant and rich blue-green in the sunlight.

The road with its high-speed sweepers begged for some throttle and, with its smooth lanes, devoid of any traffic, I complied.   West of Llano, I spotted a deer feeding along the side of the road. I had plenty of time to slow down, and was prepared to come to a complete stop if I had to. The deer - a beautiful large doe - stood frozen, staring at me, until I came nearly to a stop along side her, when she leapt off the shoulder and into the wooded fields beyond.

There's a short section along this highway where there are interesting pink and red rocks, large rocks, piled one upon another, tossed there by some colossal force of nature. And here they sit today, how many thousands of years later.   It's not too far from Enchanted Rock State Park, no doubt another result of the same natural force of nature. Riding through this area while doing this SS1000 was indeed enchanting!

At Mason TX I turned onto US-377 to continue toward Junction TX and was treated to beautiful views of mesas, their tops worn smooth and their sides carved into "organ pipe" formations by the strong winds that whip through and around these natural formations. Cattle and horse ranches fill the flat pastures between the mesas. The area was not nearly as desolate as I imagined it would be.

Soon, I was in Junction. I needed to go inside to get my gas receipt and couldn't help but notice the motorcycle parked up near the front door. Once inside, it was obvious that the man working the cash register was the owner of that bike. He clearly knew that I belonged to that BMW parked at one of his pumps and knew why I'd come inside. He was prepared to print my receipt, but not before marveling at how many gallons I'd pumped into that bike. It really wasn't that many...the fuel light wasn't even on, nor had the low-fuel countdown begun.

Another quick "gas pump snack" of Granola Bar and Gatorade, and I was up on the interstate, heading the 90 miles west to Ozona, my turnaround point. My SS1000 is now almost 2/3 complete. In Ozona, it's now 3:30 PM, The exact time I predicted I'd be there. Now my route will be straight interstate to home. I'll have just one more gas stop - in San Antonio - and then I'll be back at the Buc-ee's gas station where I started. I'm happy, because I know these next few hours will be easy riding.

As I rode along on I-10, passing through Sonora, then Junction, then Kerrville, I knew that I'd be on the Anderson Loop around the north side of San Antonio well before dark. I reflected on how I'd just ridden this stretch of road 6 days earlier, returning from Van Horn after serving as witness for riders who were doing IBA BBG3000 and BBG4500 extreme rides. How different my ride was this day compared to 6 days ago. Today the sky was perfectly blue, the temperature a near-perfect 85 degrees. Last week it was cold and gray and wet. I was very thankful for how perfect the weather turned out to be on this day, the day we memorialized Jack by doing this ride.

The sun set in my rearview mirrors as I rode through Luling TX heading east toward home. By the time I reached Schulenburg it was night-time. But it didn't matter. I was on roads I'm very familiar with, I was feeling great, and I knew I was only 100 miles from home. Besides, Jack was riding along with me, keeping me company.

As I rode through Katy, TX on I-10, my trip odometer turned over 1000 miles. It is done. Now just another 50 or so miles to my last gas receipt near home.

Wildly Diverse Groups...Benefiting One Cause

2011-10-14T09:20:00.001-07:00

Back in the early 1980's, the parents of a friend of mine organized an event called the Florida Coast to Coast Ride. It was a group of motorcycle riders spending the day riding as many back roads as they could find between the west coast of Florida near Tampa and the east coast of Florida near Cocoa Beach. It was the start of a tradition that was curtailed by his dad's health problems and then the event faded away in 1990.

Ó 2011 smithworks

Fourteen years later, this friend resurrected the
Florida Coast2Coast Ride in his dad's memory, this time as a fund raiser for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Ironically, just days after that first resurrection event, he was diagnosed with Hodgkins Lymphoma. The event has taken place every year since, and I am proud to be a part of the event as a supporter, developing and maintaining the webpage and handling the on-line registrations, and as a participant.

Taking all day to get from the west coast of Florida to the east coast of Florida seems highly improbable, what with Interstate 4 running along that very same path. But this friend has managed to find every possible tiny little road there is between the two coasts, and has planned a diabolical route using these roads to get us from one side of the state to the other in the least efficient manner possible. It's all great fun and raises money for this great cause.

This year the event takes place November 12. A week later, on November 20, the Women's Half Marathon will be held in St. Petersburg, FL. We're talking about a different group of people doing what they love to do, with the same beneficiary: Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. We're talking about people running a diabolical route that will take them from point A to point B through the streets of St. Petersburg in the least efficient manner possible in order to cover 13.1 miles between two points that are barely a mile apart.

There's a satisfying degree of poetic parallelism to these two events. Don't you agree?

Something to Shoot For

2011-10-10T12:28:00.000-07:00

This week's Running Notebook column in the Houston Chronicle - about a woman who has completed the 50 States Marathon Challenge - got me thinking. There's an idea! What if I went for a "50 States Half Marathon" experience? There's no club or organization that I know of to recognize that accomplishment, but it would surely be fun to do! And think of all the great cities I'd be visiting while trying!

I already have a bit of a start on this. There was the Big Sur half-marathon in Monterey, California. I did this one with my son a few years ago. That was truly a unique and fun experience! It was cold and grey that day and we both were bundled up to ward off the chill at the start line. My son was in training for a full marathon in Sacramento, I was in training for the full marathon in Houston and we were each at about the same point in our training schedules. In his modesty, my son felt that he was slow enough that he'd be running with me that day. Well, that didn't happen. By mile 5 he was clearly holding back, so he took off, meeting up with me later at the finish line.

I already have Hawaii covered. I did the Maui Half Marathon last year, in September. It was truly a memorable weekend, flying over there from Oahu while visiting son and family then camping out at a beautiful Hyatt Regency on the beach for the long weekend, the start line just steps from the front door.

I have Ohio covered as well. I've done the Cincinnati Flying Pig half marathon twice, and am signed up to do it again next May. Such a great race in a great and welcoming city! And Michigan is done. Completing the Capital City River Run half marathon last month in Lansing MI was truly an experience!

And of course, there's Texas! Numerous medals from half marathons and full marathons completed in my own home state hang on the wall here at my casa in Houston. Soon I'll add Florida to the list of completed states. The Womens Half Marathon in St. Petersburg FL is coming up in November.

Let's see, now. That's CA, HI, TX, MI, OH, FL. Six down, only 44 to go...Yikes! I doubt I could accomplish this before I get too old and feeble...but how cool would this be?!
Gotta work on this idea a bit more...

Another Road Trip...Another Run on the Road

2011-10-08T09:27:00.000-07:00

How does it feel to run at 4,100 feet above sea level when you usually run at an elevation that's just a mere 45 feet above sea level? Ten years ago I had business in Denver and brought my running gear with me so that I could get a couple of runs in. In fact, that was the year I was stranded at the airport when my flight home was cancelled. It was September 11, 2001. But that's another story from which folklore has been made. I remembered that the altitude reduced my performance somewhat. But I'm now 10 years older and I wondered how much more I'd be affected. On this trip I was about to find out.

I'm in Van Horn, Texas this weekend. It's a small, dusty town strung along the Pacific railroad line and bound on the south side by Interstate 10. The town was settled in the 1860's as a support center along the overland mail route between San Antonio and El Paso. Then the rail line came in, adding to growth of the town. Today it's not much more than a wayside stop for travelers on I-10. But while there are several chain hotels and fast food restaurants at the exits, there are still plenty of clean and neat mom & mom motorcourts along the main street. There's a cute little coffee house in town, and a beautifully restored historic hotel that warrants a trip back to enjoy its luxurious furnishings and fine dining.

Since I needed to get a long run in this weekend, I decided to map an 8-mile route through the town. It was going to be cool in the morning - 50 degrees - but my greater concern was getting that long run in at 4,000 feet elevation. There'd be lots of opportunities to short-circuit the route if I needed to, but, as it turned out, I didn't have to.

It was gorgeous and clear and crisp when I set out this morning. I had money and my room key tucked in a pocket, with the reward of a McDonald's parfait, sausage muffin and cappucino waiting for me at the end of the route.

The first little bit of the route was up a slight grade and I knew it...I could feel it in my legs but also in my breathing. But, the good news was that soon I'd be turning around and heading back the other way, through town and to the far east side where the main street dead-ends into I-10...all of it on a slight downhill grade.

There's a Love's Truck stop at that turnaround point, so I took advantage of that. Now I had to turn around and run back up that slight uphill grade to the center of town where I turned right and headed north towards the northern edge of town. More uphill grade! It was mostly residential, but with the county courthouse, county fire department, library, and school all tucked in between the little stucco houses. At 10th Street I turned left and ran three blocks which brought me into the heart of the residential area. Each home was neat as a pin, with neat xeriscape yards (this is high desert, after all) and plentiful dogs to keep me company. I turned south onto Fannin Street and headed back toward the center of town, my route making a large box through this neighborhood.

That's the nice thing about a tiny little town like this. First, there's no traffic at all. It made running a pleasure. Second, the dogs pretty much own the little streets. I was escorted and ushered from house to house by a phalanx of dogs. Big dogs. Little dogs. Tiny dogs. The cutest was a little "guy" that looked like a long-haired chihuahua. It came charging out into the street and right up to my feet, barking and looking all business. But it fell in step with me and scampered along, until I had to stop and clap my hands to shoo it back home. I was afraid it would follow me too far.

I was then back to the center of town, so I ran south to a Pilot gas station that sits at an interstate exit and bought a bottle of water and banana. I found a shady spot to eat my banana and drink some water before continuing my run.

Now I only had the stretch from the center of town back up the main street to the far western side of town - about 2 miles - where a McDonald's sits at a different interstate exit. Only problem is that this stretch is going back up that uphill grade and my legs were starting to feel oxygen deficit. I kept my mind focused on the reward at the end of the run and just kept plugging along. Occasionally I took a brief walking break to catch my breath.

Finally! The street where I'd be turning left came into view and, once around that corner, the McDonald's was visible under the I-10 overpass. I did it!

Windy Ride to Van Horn

2011-10-07T17:57:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting here in my motel room. I know I'm seated because I have several visual cues. But my inner ears are still rockin' and rollin' me as if I were still on the motorcycle.

I've ridden in lots of wind, much of it along east-west interstate corridors like I-10 or I-80. Today was just about the worst cross-wind I've ever experienced in my significant motorcycle travel experience. It started to pick up just west of Sonora, even though there were signs along the interstate corridor east of there, warning of strong crosswinds. I'd checked the weather forecast the night before and it warned of this. Weather on my XM service on the Zumo showed the same. So it was no surprise, but unnerving nonetheless, as the gusts hit me, snapping my head to the right and blowing my already-leaning motorcycle nearly onto the shoulder of the highway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I got on the road, leaving the house at about 6:15 this morning. I was just ahead of the worst of the rush hour traffic in Houston, though it did get a bit heavy and frantic on the west Beltway and for a little bit on I-10 going through Katy. But it soon loosened up and I was underway in earnest.

I stopped at my usual Valero station on the Anderson Loop, just a few miles north of I-10. I resumed my travel west - fat, dumb and happy - and then hit a traffic wall. Everything was stopped and nothing was moving for as far ahead of me as I could see. Good thing I wasn't doing an IBA ride...I would have fallen seriously behind. Traffic crept along one car length at a time, with short stops that weren't long enough for me to even put the bike in neutral. Eventually the telltale smell of hot clutch reached my nostrils and the bike began idling rough, a sure sign that she was overheating.   Traffic wasn't coming to long enough stops to let me shut off the engine, as I've been able to do when encountering this problem during other serious traffic back-ups. We just continued to move that maddening one car length at a time, come to a stop for 15-20 seconds, then move forward another car length.

After about 3 miles of this, the traffic was being forced off onto the feeder road. Two lanes' worth of bumper to bumper onto two feeder lanes that eventually merged down to one lane at the next exit ramp.   At this point my bike was at risk of stalling and not re-starting, since she was becoming very reluctant to take off in first gear from a stop. There was no shoulder, just two lanes hemmed in by curbs, so when we came to an underpass I turned right in hopes there'd be something - a store, a gas station, anything - where I could pull over and turn the bike off.

Alas! There was nothing! Only a sign just ahead said, "Road ends ahead" and another that said "No exit." I was stuck! It was a narrow road, with drop-offs onto gravel at the edges of the pavement on both sides. There was some kind of narrow private driveway to the right, so I pulled in and did a u-turn, stopped, and put the sidestand down. Here I waited for a few minutes, let the clutch cool down, let my clutch hand recover, and assess the options.

Really, there were no options, but to get back into that traffic and hope we could get clear of whatever it was on the freeway so that we could get back on and get going. A helicopter was circling overhead - probably a news copter - and it was just ahead of us, so I knew we were getting close. But damn! It was slow-going and very nervewracking.

Finally! Free of the major accident, back onto Anderson Loop and 8 miles 'til I-10. I just cruised along with very little traffic to keep me company until my next gas stop at the Exxon station in Sonora. This is one of my usual gas stops whenever I head west on this road. it doesn't look like much from the outside, but has a surprisingly nice ladies' room and a good C-store. It was a quick stop, just long enough to buy a bottle of water and use the restroom. Then I was back up on I-10 and heading west. And into the strong crosswinds between here and Fort Stockton.

As I rode along, alert and on guard for the occasional strong gusts, I caught up -slowly - with a mint-condition Aspencade. I passed him, but a few miles later, he passed me when I slowed for a particularly unnerving stretch of road.   I didn't see him again until I got off in Fort Stockton for gas.

Thankfully the winds backed off a bit from Fort Stockton to Van Horn and I could relax and pick up my speed. 100 miles to go.

I stopped at the Love's Truck Stop where there is a Subway, and got off the bike to check my cellphone for messages. I had put out the offer to buy Subway sandwiches for the riders, but they had to leave me a message before 5 PM to let me know. There were no messages from any of the riders - though there was one from friend Steve - so I continued on the hotel and got checked in.

I had not had anything to eat all day. Nothing but water, so I was looking forward to walking over to McDonalds to buy something and break this "fast." I also stepped next door to the grocer's and bought bananas, Gatorade, and some deodorant (I forgot mine).

Now I wait for the riders to show up so that I can sign their witness forms for their BBG's.   Tomorrow I hope to get a decently long run in...although I'm not too sure how long it will be, since the elevation is 4,000 feet here. It could be a bit of a challenge for this sea-level flatlander.

New Shoes?

2011-10-05T08:13:00.000-07:00

Is it time for new shoes? Run after run, the shoes feel just fine...in fact, great! Then, the very next run they feel awful; they feel "flat" and "sloppy." Maybe it was just me, having a bad day. But on my run this morning, it was the same thing. Just how many miles do I have on these shoes?

When I got home I checked my on-line run log, which has a nifty "shoe list" feature. Here I was able to see how many miles I had on my current two pairs of shoes. Two pairs of shoes?? With only two feet, why two pairs? I buy my running shoes two pairs at a time and alternate them on my run days to give each pair a chance to dry out and the various cushioning compounds and upper materials to "recover." I learned to do this early in my running career after suffering through "wet sock" runs on days following a rainy run. Here in Gulf Coast Texas this was quite frequent (except for this year, with our record-breaking drought).

The tread in the center is worn
completely smooth.

I find that running shoes are like tires: Different models have a different "tread life." The particular shoes I'm wearing apparently have a softer compound used for the soles, since I can't seem to get the same mileage out of these as I did out of this shoe model's predecessor.

So, a check of the mileage and then a visual check of the soles this morning confirmed it. Yep! If these were tires, even the wear bars would be worn smooth!

These shoes have just a little over 200 miles on them; same for the other pair of shoes that get alternated with these. The gradual change in the "ride" is hardly noticeable until suddenly one day they just don't feel right. These changes are even more evident when a new pair of shoes are added to the rotation and then: Wow!

"No, Mommy! My shoes!!

But it's time to retire these two pair, and break out two new pair. I'll donate these to one of the many charities that regularly schedule pick-ups in our neighborhood. They're clean, only 6 months old and still have lots of life left in them for casual wear.

I love pulling a new pair of running shoes out of the box, putting them on and working the laces to mold the shoes to my feet. Those first few runs in new shoes are sweet! They don't need breaking in so much as they need "molding in." That is, the uppers shaped to my foot from repeated wearings. Adjusting the laces until the shoe takes on that wonderful "hug" and custom fit around my foot.

It's just a little more than a month away from the Women's Half Marathon in St. Petersburg...plenty of time to get them properly "molded in."

Now This Is What I'm Talkin' About!

2011-10-04T16:58:00.000-07:00

Robin's egg blue skies...cool temps and low humidity. Time to back one of the bikes out of the garage and go for a long lunch ride.

My destination? Tuffy's Eatery in Mauriceville, TX at the junction of US-12 and TX-62 and about 12 miles north of Orange TX.

Friend Steve met me there at 11:30 AM and we proceeded to eat gumbo, red beans and rice, a chicken wrap, salad, and slices of pie for dessert.

After lunch we headed to the border...the state border that is, to get photos of our bikes in front of the "Welcome to Texas" sign at the Visitor Center on I-10. The photos are for the Jack Shoalmire Memorial In-State Saddlesore event on October 15. Riders in 49 of 50 of the U.S. states (still need a Hawaii rider) are signed up to do this ride. The organizer will be putting together a video of photos and ride routes as they're recorded by our SPOT satellite trackers.

Quick goodbyes and I was back on the road toward Houston, leaving Steve behind at the rest area to check on today's new i-Phone launch. He's such an Apple geek! ;-)

I took a quick gas stop in Beaumont and rode back up onto the interstate just as Steve was passing the exit. But I couldn't keep up with him.

Nice day! Good to be able to ride in moderate weather and not be soaked in sweat and overheated by the end of the ride.

Cooler Days and Migrating Birds

2011-10-02T09:53:00.001-07:00

Oh my! It was 59 degrees outside this morning when I stepped out to start my long run. Will I be warm enough? I had on shorts and a singlet...I think I should be okay.

It was still dark at 5:45 AM, but by the time I got to mile three, the sun was just starting to light up the eastern horizon. It was a "rainbow" of sunrise colors layering the sky: A deep burnt red, dark orange, shades of peach and apricot, and then pink, as the light reached up into the night skies. Along this stretch of my route is a large pond and often, in the early mornings, its surface is broken by the ripples of fish as they jump out of the water and drop back in with a splash.

This morning a large heron swooped just a few feet above me and landed gracefully on the edge of the pond. It stood stark still, its profile reflecting in the water and the sunrise painting his white feathers with a touch of gold. A little flurry of ripples appeared in the water near where the bird stood, as living creatures beneath the surface detected the heron's presence.

Just then I looked up and spotted a formation of ducks fly by. They were picture-perfect black shapes in precise formation sillhouetted against the orange sky. They surely sense the change...the hint of cool weather in the air, the coming of fall with its crisp nights and cool days. Soon there will be many formations in the skies - ducks, geese, cranes - as they head for their wintering grounds along the Gulf Coast of Texas. It's a spectacular sight, and a reminder that we are all part of the Circle of Life.

In the circle of life

It's the wheel of fortune

It's the leap of faith

It's the band of hope

'Til we find our place

On the path unwinding

In the circle, the circle of life

~ Elton John, Circle of Life

Weather is relenting....Time to Ride!!

2011-09-30T16:04:00.000-07:00

Whew! the thermometer at my house has not seen the south side of 78 degrees since last spring, and I'm talking overnight temps, not daytime temps. We've broken the record here in Houston for highest number of consecutive days over 100 degrees. So it's no wonder that my motorcycles have gotten very little mileage since returning from the BMW RA Rally in Chippewa Falls WI back in June.

I'd put some significant mileage on the bikes in the first 6 months of this year. That is, up until June...about 13,000 miles. But then it all came to a screeching near-halt after that. 80 degree mornings, 110 degree afternoons are not conducive to much riding. But then, our riding season down here in South Texas is the 9 months between September and May anyway. It just seems like the summer was worse than usual for heat.

So now I'm gleefully scheduling trips, planning routes, making reservations. Let's see...first up on the schedule is a ride out to Van Horn TX to await the BBG bi- and trifecta riders and to serve as their witness as they come and go, completing the two or three back-to-back Bunburner Golds. I may do a Saddlesore 1000 to get out there, depending on my mood. It's not that much further. Distance to Van Horn is 675 miles, just continue to Akela Flats, turn around and go back to Van Horn and it's done. And I may do a Saddlesore to get home, as well.

Next up is the Jack Shoalmire Memorial In-State SS1000 the following weekend. I have a great in-state route planned that is 2/3 secondary roads, with only the last 1/3 on interstate. It will be interesting and not so crushingly boring as it could be if ridden all on interstate.

A week later I'm riding up to Branson MO to scout sites for next year's MTF Founders Feast. It should be a quick but fun trip, with a stop at my son's house in LA afterward to spend the weekend celebrating birthdays and an anniversary.

A couple of weeks after that, I'm riding to Tampa FL to participate in the Florida Coast2Coast Ride, always an annual tradition for me. I'm staying the following week in the Orlando area to visit and eat with friends, because the following weekend I'm running in a half marathon in St. Petersburg FL. Ridng 1,000 miles home after running a half marathon?? Not too sure about this, but we'll see.

Then...as if that trip to FL were not enough...two weeks later I'm riding back to Florida - to Panama City Beach - to stay at that really wonderful Marriott resort again. I've once again traded one of my timeshare weeks for a lovely two-bedroom unit at this resort.

And I can't forget the Stagecoach Ride to Eat on December 30!

Now let's see...adding up the projected mileage I'll be riding in the next 3 months, it looks like I'll add another 9,000 or so miles to the odometers of my two motorcycles. This makes for a decent riding year for me: About 22,000 miles for the year.

Last week while at Founders Feast someone suggested that maybe I wasn't riding very much anymore. Now... I didn't have a chance to respond, as the conversation turned to another topic. But if I had, I would have pointed out that just 3 months earlier, in late May, I had completed an IBA National Park Tour Silver, which entailed my visiting 76 national parks in 26 states including the four corner states of WA, CA, FL, and ME in less than 12 months. Then in late May I rode to Santa Fe NM and rode the Taos and Enchanted Loop areas. And that in late June I rode up to northern Wisconsin to the BMW RA Rally and to Duluth MN to visit Aerostich. Makes a person go "Hmmmm...." Guess I need to share my adventures with others a little more often.

Simple Entertainment

2011-09-30T10:12:00.000-07:00

Sitting here at my breakfast table this morning, I've been entertained all morning by the birds and squirrels that frequent my backyard.

Squirrels have been chasing each other through the branches of my large crape myrtle, and scampering back and forth across the fence, carrying acorns and pecans to their secret hidey-holes for winter stash.

A male Baltimore Oriole has been frequenting my hummingbird feeder for the last couple of weeks and now a female has joined him, returning often for some nectar.

Those feisty hummingbirds have been around since mid-August and I've made more nectar this year than ever before.

Getting Back On That Horse

2011-09-29T08:34:00.003-07:00

Okay, vacation from running is over. I've put it off long enough. Time to stop reveling in the recently finished half marathon in Lansing and start looking ahead to the Women's Half Marathon in St. Petersburg FL. This meant dragging my lazy self out of bed this morning and getting back on schedule again.

So easy to fall off the wagon; so hard to climb back on. I could make all sorts of excuses why I've not run for 10 days: I've been on the road non-stop; I've been visiting family that are scattered all over the country; I've been busy co-hosting a large weekend event; I've had some long days driving 500-600 miles to get places. I'm not buying it, though. Are you? The time spent in my hotel room, logged into the internet early in the mornings, I could have slipped a run in. The evenings spent doing nothing constructive, I could have gone out for a short run.

Well, shame on me! Most of that trip was spent in northern or mountainous locations, where the morning temperatures were gloriously cool. Now I'm back in Houston, where this morning's temperature was 80 degrees with high humidity, and I have run out of excuses. I got an "ease back into it" run done this morning, and will hopefully get another done tomorrow. A "cool" front is supposed to move into the area tomorrow night so I'll reserve my long run for Sunday morning, maybe a seven miler. Then I'll start ramping those long runs back up over the next several weeks, culminating in a 12 miler two weeks before the WHM event on November 20.

What a trip!

2011-09-26T20:04:00.000-07:00

Where to start, in describing this jam-cram-packed trip?? I went north to Michigan, southeast to North Carolina, southwest to Texas and home.

Along the way the trip took me to Lansing, MI and Lansing's Capital City River Run Half Marathon. Then there was the Post-race RTE (ride to eat) in Lansing afterward, with 10 MTF friends attending.

And the day wasn't over yet, because after that late RTE lunch, I drove to Grand Rapids to spend a couple of days visiting with sister and family in Grand Rapids, meet her twin grandsons for the first time, get caught up with her grown son and daughter Sunday evening.

There was no rest day on Monday...I drove to Panera for a late breakfast then met my sister at the Frederik Meijer Gardens and Sculpture Park where we took the tram tour of the sculpture park section and had lunch at the nice little cafe in the visitor center.

Then it was on to Robinette's Apple orchard for some apple pie dessert. But the day wasn't over yet. My sister brought me to meet her daughter's horse at the boarding stable. That evening they showed me downtown Grand Rapids where an art competition was just getting started.

Continuation of the road trip brought me to Robbinsville NC where I stayed for five days, to attend the MTF Flower Sniffin' event and Founders Feast at Ironhorse Lodge in Stecoah NC. I spent most of my time there working registration and sign-in for the event, selling MTF merchandise, and just chatting and visiting other MTF members. But I did get out on Friday, riding pillion on a fellow member's Goldwing.

My drive home included an overnight stop in Mandeville to visit son and family. Then...finally....it was home to Houston.

It's Done

2011-09-26T18:42:00.001-07:00

This is ridiculously late reporting, but....it's done! The September 18, 2011 Capital City River Run Half Marathon is now just a memory. But, wow! What a great race and incredibly scenic course! I had the tune to "over the river and through the woods" running through my head the entire time! After 3 miles on city streets, we ran onto Michigan State University campus for a little bit, and then we all headed into the woods to run on trails and boardwalks through dense forest and along rivers, ponds, and streams for the next 10 miles. It was awesome, and the miles just flew by!!

All of the water stations were manned by local cross country running clubs: High school teams, college teams, independent adult cross country teams. Their enthusiasm was contagious!! The best was the high school cross country team water station at around mile 7. Chalk markings on the trail warned us that we were approaching an Hawaiian luau, and the sounds of jungle drums reached out and drew us in. Around the bend, there they were, banging on painted metal trash cans, leis around their necks! Terrific energy and great fun!

I found myself in a bit of a race for the finish line with another woman who appeared to be about my age. She began to falter at mile 12, but up until that point we stayed together, sometimes pulling ahead of each other until she could no longer keep up. Then it was over that last bridge crossing the Grand River, a bend to the left and there was the finish line.

Beer and pizza sounded great when standing there talking about it at the fitness expo the previous day, but it wasn't tasting so great nor was it sitting too well on my stomach at the post-race party. So, discreetly discarded pizza slice and half-empty cup of IPA tucked into the trash bag, I headed to the hotel to clean up, check out, and meet a dozen friends for a post-race lunch at Smokey Bones BBQ in Lansing.

I finished in 9th place in my age group. I'm pleased.

Capital Coffee

2011-09-17T15:58:00.000-07:00

MI state capitol building

Lansing, MI....an emminently walkable small city with the flavor and 'stamp' of a university town. I'm here to run a half marathon on Sunday but in the meantime, have a day or so to see the town, visit the fitness expo, and browse the coffee shops that are in abundance near the hotel.

Michigan's state capitol building is just two blocks from the hotel. Since this race is the Capital City River Run, I thought it fitting to stroll over and take a photo.

A happenin' coffee house scene

Then it was off in search of some good coffee house latte.

Saturday morning I bolted out of bed in a panic, checking the clock...8:37 AM. Oh, no!! I've overslept! I ran over to the window, my heart pounding, my mind racing through the list of things I'd need to do to get out there to the start line. I pulled back the drapes to peer out toward the road in front of the hotel, the road where the start line should be for the race. Nothing. No barriers, no start line banner, no crowd of runners, and no spectators. What?! It took me a few moments to realize, "This is Saturday, not Sunday. This is expo and packet pickup day, not race day."

I hate it when this happens! Too many nights on the road, too many strange hotel rooms. Sometimes I hardly remember where I am, never mind, what day it is.

I relaxed and my heartrate returned to normal, as I readied to head over to the fitness expo at the Lansing Center next door to pick up my race packet. It was a small expo, nearly all exhibitors representing wellness and health-related service providers. No vendors selling running gear, so no shopping opportunity. But I did get my photo taken with a rabbit!

I wandered down to the river trail and, walking along the river a bit, discovered Lansing City Market, an excellent find! A combination of farmer's market, bakery, and co-op, it was brimming with organic vegetables, fruits, grains, homemade goods, and fresh prepared food. Brunch! I made some purchases and then sat outside on their large patio to enjoy the live music and the view out over the river.

I couldn't resist taking photos of the fresh produce laid out so attractively at one of the stands. The prices seemed very reasonable for organic vegetables and fruit. It was hard not to shop!

The little combo band with female vocalist was very good! She had a beautiful voice and their music style was easy on the ears. Wonderful!

I was torn between staying here for a while longer, or taking a walk around the capitol building. It was just too nice to disappear indoors, though I wanted to stay off my feet, stay hydrated. The walk won out!

I circled the capitol building block, taking photos and making friends with this cute little fox squirrel. Another visit to Deeker's Coffee Co. was in order, before I finally went back to the hotel for the afternoon.

On to the River Run

2011-09-16T18:53:00.001-07:00

When you read this I'll be on the road, heading for Lansing Michigan and the Capital City River Run.

I've never had so much trouble packing for a trip as I've had with this one. I'm going from 100+ degree daytime high temperatures here in Houston to low 40's nightime lows in Lansing. I haven't run in those kinds of temperatures since last January! The forecasted temps on race day morning sit right at the breaking point between short sleeves and long sleeves for me. Add to this the uncertainty of a forecast that's several days out. This had me packing for all sorts of weather contingencies. Well...running clothes don't take up very much room, so I threw stuff in that suitcase for all possibilities.

My last long run before the race - a taper-down distance - was just under 8 miles on Monday. You know how, when you set out on a run, it might not feel good at first but eventually you settle into a rhythm and you finish strong? Well not this time. Not for me. I woke up feeling sure that I would blow this run off all together. The heat has returned with a vengeance to Texas after our brief respite, and the air quality is terrible. Ozone from the heat and particulate matter from all of the nearby fires have the city under poor air quality alerts, with dire warnings to stay indoors, don't work or exercise outdoors.

I forced myself out the door, knowing I'd really lay the guilt trip on myself if I didn't. It was a struggle to get going and it never got any better. But I got it done. Hooray for me!

Next time you hear from me, I'll be in Lansing MI.

Hummingbirds and....What??

2011-09-12T18:39:00.000-07:00

When I woke up the other morning, I immediately spotted my hummingbird feeder lying on the ground next to the deck in the back yard. I thought, "That's odd." I went out to retrieve it, picking it up where it had been dashed into a flowerbed, covered with mulch and dirt. It was completely empty of sugar water. I just couldn't imagine how it could have gotten there.

I brought it into the kitchen, washed it off, rinsed it out, refilled it with fresh nectar, and re-hung it on the shepherd's hook next to the deck. Back to my morning as usual, making coffee, getting breakfast ready, and then logging into my laptop to check emails and read the news. Just moments after sitting down, something large and bright caught my eye outside the breakfast room window. A large, orange and black bird had landed on the shepherd's hook and then hopped down and clung to the upright and looked about, checking things out.

What is that bird?? I thought it might be an oriole but checked my bird guide just to be sure. It hopped from the upright to the hummingbird feeder, tilting and spinning it wildly. Aha! There's the answer to the mystery of how the feeder ended up on the ground.

Clearly the oriole is too big and heavy for the hummingbird feeder. Each time he landed on the feeder, nectar would drip out of the holes as he tipped one side down. I learned from a friend that there are special oriole feeders, designed to hold nectar as well as bits of fresh fruit. I need one!!

Orioles summer and nest in the Great Lakes area and in the Northeast. Houston is just on the western edge of their migratory flyway in the fall and spring. It is very rare to see them here along the western Gulf coast. So this is very special!

The oriole returned to the feeder throughout the rest of the day and he still shows up today. Gorgeous bird!

Peak of the Training Cycle

2011-09-09T06:22:00.001-07:00

Wow! Cool air greeted me early Tuesday morning as I walked out the door for my last long run - 12 miles - before the Capital City River Run Half Marathon. It was simply glorious! Extremely low humidity, too! The winds were fresh and cool.

It was just a little before 6:00 a.m. and still dark. My headlight shone on the mailbox numbers and reflected off the "cat eyes" - reflectors embedded in the center stripe of the road. I trotted along, still trying to wake up and find my groove, when my light caught a rabbit in the street up ahead. The cute little guy waited for me to catch up, then took off down the roadway, showing me how it's done. Then it stopped, coyly looking over its shoulder at me, as if to say, "Come on, I dare you to catch up." As I did so, it turned and took off again, running another ten yards or so, then stopping again to taunt me. We stayed together this way for quite a distance. Then it eventually turned and headed up a driveway, disappearing into the gloom of a front yard. Thank you little bunny! You paced me and got me going early in my run. I needed that!

As the sky began to lighten with sunrise, I could see the dingy tan and gray horizon off to the west, dirtied by the smoke from rampant wildfires northwest of me. I reflected on the dire situation here in Texas. No appreciable rainfall since February, no hay or grass for livestock, no water for them. Our lakes and riverbeds drying up. And now dozens of wildfires, most of them out of control, all over the state, including two very large ones within an hour of Houston.

My route then turned me east out of my neighborhood, away from the soot-stained air and into the rising sun. It was remarkable how, even with the sun creeping up into the morning sky, the temperatures and the breeze remained cool and comfortable. Very soon I was at my turnaround point at the Exxon gas station at the corner of Cullen and FM 518. I was at mile 8 of my run and was feeling very good. It's amazing what a difference lower temperatures and humidity can make! Two weeks ago I ran this same route for my 11 mile run and by this point had put a serious dent in my on-board hydration. Today I'd barely touched my hydration bottle.

I turned around and headed for home - 3 miles to get there plus a detour to add another mile. I visualized my upcoming race day, imagining that I was into mile 10 or 11 or 12 of the half marathon, imagining myself runing along the route, watching the mile markers go by, making the last turn toward the finish, and then digging deep to overcome the urge to slow down as the finish line came into view. And then I was home.

Groovy

2011-09-06T08:20:00.001-07:00

Sometimes a break from the schedule is a good thing. Last week my running schedule was derailed a bit by family but I wasn't too worried. I knew I had a good mileage base. So this past weekend I picked up where I left off, got up at 6:00 a.m. on Saturday and headed out for an easy 4+ mile run. It was one of the best runs I'd had in a long time! I ran a good pace, even in this heat! The short lay-off did me good.

Then on Sunday morning I felt the need to get another 5+ miles in (sheesh, why is that??), getting up at 5:30 AM to hit the streets early. We were feeling the outer-bands effects of tropical storm Lee - no rain, just heavy cloud cover and strong winds from the north. This kept the temperatures a few degrees cooler than it's been.

I returned from my run, made coffee, ate some blueberries, got caught up on the news, e-mails, forums and blogs, then showered and dressed. I hopped on the Beemer motorcycle and rode to La Madeleine to meet a friend for brunch, to enjoy one of their giant frothy cappucino's dusted with cinnamon, a chocolate croissant, and a yogurt parfait with fresh strawberries, blueberries, and granola sprinkled on top. Now this is a sweet reward!

Groovy weekend!

Family Trumps Running

2011-09-04T06:04:00.001-07:00

My training runs got derailed this past week...but I didn't mind at all. Not at all.

A very tired daughter-in-law after disgorging
the contents of the Highlander into my livingroom

You see, my son and his family arrived in Houston late last week, enroute to their new Navy duty station in Mississippi. They've been stationed in Hawaii these last 3 years and are now being transferred to Stennis Space Center. Son flew to California, bought a new Toyota Highlander and drove to Houston, arriving last Thursday. Daughter-in-law and two grandkids arrived last Friday morning by plane. She continued on to their new house in Louisiana on Saturday morning to prepare for the arrival of their belongings, while son and grandkids stayed with me until this Tuesday. The four of us then headed east to join daughter-in-law at their new house to await their furniture delivery and to unpack and get things set up.

Grandson hugging "George"

In the midst of all this I managed to get two runs in but beyond Sunday, things fell apart pretty quickly. It wasn't for lack of good intentions, though. The running shoes came with me to Louisiana. So did some running shorts and tops. But it just didn't happen. I'm okay with that. Got plenty of mileage base built up and did a good 11 mile run the prior week.

We all arrived at the new, yet empty house on Tuesday late afternoon and, after ordering pizza and having a picnic-style dinner, I checked into the nearby Comfort Inn for the night. I was up very early Wednesday morning so that I could drive my son into New Orleans to pick up his VW Passat, which had been shipped from Hawaii. By the time I got back to their house, temperatures were well into the high 80s and the first of two loads of crated household goods were due at any time. So, no chance to sneak a run in. For the rest of the day I kept the two "munchkins" out from under foot of the movers and helped wherever I could in getting things unpacked and in the right rooms.

Sweet grand-daughter, still cheery
despite the long trip

We ordered Mexican food from a highly recommended restaurant nearby and had another dinner "picnic style." Everyone was pretty tired after receiving and unpacking half a household in a hot house. Overseas moves are "containerized" shipments, so only half the load came today; tomorrow the other half will be delivered. Over dinner, we talked about the next day's plans and shared thoughts and opinions on furniture placement and usage of closet space. It's a beautiful home, lots of space, but it's always a challenge, no matter how big a house is or how many closets there are, to make the best use of the space.

Thursday morning held promise of getting a good run through their new neighborhood before the second shipment arrived. Only one problem: None of the kitchenware, bed linens, or towels came in that first shipment. We had bare mattresses, no sheets, no towels for the bathroom, so I opted to go back to the hotel and stay another night, where I could get a good night's sleep in a real bed, take a good shower with plenty of towels, and have a good cup of coffee and a very respectable breakfast. This meant no nice, early run for me, as there was no time to do this, return to the hotel for a shower, check out, and then get back to their house early enough to greet the movers and help my son. My daughter-in-law took the grandkids to their new pre-school to register and meet their teachers and staff, leaving my son and me to deal with this next load.

Son getting caught up on week's worth of emails

I wanted to leave for home around noon, so did the best I could to get whatever I could unpacked and put away, mostly kitchen items: Pots and pans, bakeware, silverware, glassware. It was very satisfying, getting those large boxes unpacked, get their contents put away, and the packing material back outside for the movers to crush and put back onto the truck.

I'm back home and will get a couple of good runs in over the three day weekend, including my long run. The satisfaction of helping family definitely trumped running this week. Definitely.

Pockets

2011-09-01T06:05:00.001-07:00

Why do I love pockets so much? If I'm wearing something that doesn't have pockets, I'm at a total loss. It's not as if I must live with my hands in my pockets all of the time or carry much of anything in those pockets, but they come in so handy to hold a spare Kleenex, or a car key when hands are full, or a little bit of money when I leave the purse at home.

20K race, 2001: They're so
long they look like a skirt!

So naturally, when I first started running, I looked for running shorts with pockets. They were a little hard to find, but they were out there if I searched the internet hard enough. I discovered one particular brand and bought every color they made: Red, bright blue, light blue, navy blue, purple, black. Even a couple of pair that were a colorful, gay print.

I sacrificed svelte fit and style in return for having pockets. They were long. They were baggy. They were frumpy. But...they had those all-important pockets.

2003 20K: full and flapping!

Now, most of the time, those pockets were empty other than a couple of Kleenex. Like when doing short runs in my neighborhood. But for all-time convenience on long runs, those pockets held GU, Kleenex, pretzels, a spare bandage or two, some folding money, maybe even a few coins. And I'd safety-pin my car key to the inside of the pocket for safe keeping.

I wore those same few pair of shorts for several years! But eventually I realized how "dated" they looked. They sat high at the waist and the inseam was so long. Besides, they were getting a little faded and were starting to get snagged, and to fray a little around the waist and leg openings.

2003 Marathon: So baggy!

I looked for more modern-fitting running shorts - shorts that sat a little below the waist, lower on the hip, and with a shorter inseam. But these features just didn't seem to co-exist with pockets. The little key pockets were pretty much useless, in my opinion. I put off purchasing any and continued to wear these same old comfortable baggy running shorts.

But eventually, I had no choice when, one by one, I began throwing away these old pocketed running shorts. I bought a couple pair of "pocketless" styles and tried them out on short runs. That's when I realized how much of a "security blanket" those pockets had become. True...my nose runs like a faucet in colder weather and gets stuffy in allergy season which, in Texas, is nearly year-round, so having a Kleenex was handy. That feature alone came in more than handy the year I ran the Houston marathon with a head cold. By the end of that race I would have given anything for a dry, fresh Kleenex!

Wearing those pocketless shorts just felt weird...at first. But I came to like the fit better. Not having that bunchy elastic band up around my waist, my hydration belt fit better. I liked the shorter leg length. I liked their more streamlined shape. I stuck with them, learned to like not having pockets, and started buying more shorts in different styles. Besides, many of my running tops now have little zippered pockets hidden in the side or back seams, a handy place to stow a few small items.

So, when I came across an old pair of those pocketed running shorts a few days ago, I was a bit embarrassed that I'd stuck with them for so long. Times...and fashion...surely do change.

Looking Ahead

2011-08-31T13:08:00.001-07:00

I love it when I have trips and races on my calendar. The anticipation is wonderful! My last "destination race" was the Cincinnati Flying Pig Marathon on May 1. It meets nearly all of my criteria for the perfect race event weekend, including great support and swag, a truly excellent expo with large selection of merchandise and freebies, a looped route, and very scenic course. But it's seriously hilly. Other than that, a truly enjoyable race weekend. I've done it twice, and have just signed up for next year's event.

My next event? Capital City River Run Half-Marathon in Lansing, MI. It's three weeks away and I'm really psyched to be running in a city that's new to me. I started my mileage build-up in mid-July, after recovering from the Cincinnati Flying Pig, and am a week away from my longest training run before the event. But I'm treating this race like just another training run. It's got nothing to do with my training, but everything to do with the nature of the race course. The route will have us climbing up and down stairs and over bridges as we run the Lansing River Trail along the Grand River, passing through parks and natural areas, across boardwalks, even right through the downtown area. So it's less an opportunity for a good finish time, and more an opportunity to just have fun and enjoy what the city has to offer.

It's hard to know what the weather will be like, but surely it will be a little cooler than what we've been experiencing here in South Texas. I look forward to that change and to the change in scenery, the excitement of a new-to-me event and...another road trip!

When this half-marathon is done, I will next turn my attention to the Women's Half Marathon in St. Petersburg, another new-to-me event and another change of scenery - a beautiful flat course - which always helps the miles go by quickly. After mid-September, I'll drop my mileage down for a week or two to give my body a chance to recover, then I'll alternate between 8 and 11 miles for my weekly long runs and shoot for a weekly mileage total of around 22 and 25 miles for the last six weeks leading up to the Women's Half.

And then?? I'll be on the road, heading toward St. Petersburg and another really great event and fun weekend! I'm really looking forward to WHM! All good stuff!

Trial and Error

2011-08-26T10:16:00.001-07:00

Getting the right running shoes was, for me, an exercise in painful trial and error. Add to that the trial and error of finding the right socks - the right thickness, the right material, the right fit - and it can be an expensive and protracted process.

Back when I was a brand new runner, I went to a reputable running store here in Houston and let their staff help me select the right shoe. I was clueless and totally overwhelmed by the bewildering number of brands, models, and styles.

He fitted me with a pair of shoes, a well-known brand. The shoes were one of their best-selling models and were intended for over-pronators. As it turned out, they were for the severe over-pronator and were what was considered, in those days, a "motion control" shoe. Now, I never thought of myself as an overpronator. My street shoes don't develop that characteristic "list" toward the inside that will happen when the wearer overpronates. But, as I say, I was totally clueless and dependent on the store employee, a supposedly factory-trained fitter, to put me in the right shoe.

I struggled with this brand and model shoe for three or four years. And by struggle, I mean they beat my feet and toes up mercilessly in their effort to keep my feet on the "straight and narrow." As soon as my mileage got up there, and the long runs into double digit miles, I started to experience blisters and calluses. Nasty ones. Blisters on the outside edges of my big toes and calluses and blisters on the sides of my feet just below the big toe joint. I was also getting occasional blisters on the balls of my feet and on the undersides of my toes. And then there were the black toe nails.

I just assumed, since I'd heard others talking about their blisters and black toenails, that this was the price I paid for becoming a long distance runner; I thought that this was normal and to be expected.

Then, something wonderful happened. Another of the well-known local running stores was having a special "shoe night" at their store, so I went with a friend to check it out. They were well staffed in preparation for this event, and had two treadmills set up so that customers and fitters could assess a shoe's fit and function in real-life conditions. Although I really didn't go there with the intention of changing to a new shoe, the set-up convinced me that it would be worth it to try.

The first thing the fitter did was put me on the treadmill in my current running shoes. His immediate observation was that I was in the wrong shoe for my size, my foot, and for my gait.   "Why did you choose that shoe?" he wanted to know. When I told him, he said that often other stores will put a new runner into this particular model shoe, for no other reason than that it's a safe bet for the beginner. But it was all wrong for me; it was way too much shoe. It was designed for a larger runner, for flat feet, for runners who have a strong heel strike when landing. I'm none of these.

No wonder it was fighting my feet! The fitter pointed out that I have a mid-foot strike, a high but very flexible arch, and a strong toe-off. That motion-control shoe was preventing all of this very natural foot action from happening.   And being the 'lightweight' that I am, the shoe was much too stiff for me. What I needed was a "neutral" shoe, one that would accomodate and flex with my foot as my high arch compressed through landing and toe-off.

He put me into a "neutral" shoe model (also referred to as a "cushioned" shoe) made by a different manufacturer. It felt great in the store and on the treadmill. It was noticeably lighter and much more flexible. And out on the road?? It made a huge difference!  I stayed with this model shoe for the next few years.

Ultimately, this manufacturer came out with a line of shoes they categorized as "guidance" shoes.   There are other names for this category shoe, such as "structured cushioning" or "stability." While I was mostly happy with the "neutral" shoes, I didn't care for all of the cushioning. I felt like my foot "rocked" too much inside the shoe. So I moved over to one of the "guidance" models, one of the lightest shoes in their entire line. When this model shoe was replaced with a new model a couple of years ago, I went with that replacement and love it even more.

Now my feet are very happy!   Why did I put up with those blisters and black toe nails for so long??

Bad Start....Good Ending

2011-08-24T05:47:00.001-07:00

Yesterday morning at 6:45 a.m. I found myself standing in an Exxon gas station more than three miles from home, wet and half-naked, explaining myself to a police officer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But let me start at the beginning....

Earlier that day, I woke up with a stiff neck and little sleep. I'd tossed and turned all night long, waking to strange sounds, real or imagined, and then drifting off into uneasy and light sleep. I considered blowing off this week's long run - an 11 miler - but my conscience stepped in and took over. It reminded me that there would be little opportunity to make these miles up later in the week, since son and family are coming the next day, enroute from California to their new home in Louisiana. Besides, I wanted to do this long run...I needed to do it. I just wasn't sure I could do it.

Rather than dwell on the decision, I got up, pulled on running shorts and jog bra, ate half a banana and drank some water in preparation for getting it done and over with. As I walked out the door, I promised myself that if it wasn't going well and I didn't feel up to doing the entire 11 miles, I could quit when I stopped at the house for a break, mid-point in the run.

It was hot and without a breath of a breeze when I started out. The first half of the route was in my neighborhood. For the first two miles I really wondered how I was going to get this done. Several times I talked myself into giving up, and several times I convinced myself to stick with it. Of course, the perfect time to quit was when I stopped briefly at the house. But once there, I decided to keep going. I ate the other half of the banana, refilled my hydration bottle with Gatorade, and headed back out the door to do the next 6.5 miles.

Once out of the neighborhood and onto open road, there was a slight but noticeable breeze, which helped some. My route was very straighforward and took me past the beautiful new high school, which proved to be a major mental diversion for me, as the traffic was clogged with buses, parents doing drop-offs, and students driving and walking to school. This helped some, too.

Then I must have zoned out. With nothing but straight, smooth, wide sidewalk in front of me, zoning out was easy to do. When that sidewalk ended at a major intersection, I pulled up short, realizing I'd slightly overshot my mark: The Exxon on the corner.

I stepped inside the gas station C-Store for a moment to enjoy the coolness. This is where that police officer comes in. He was standing there chatting with the clerk when I walked up to the register to pay for a CLIF bar, conscious of my skimpy running attire and soaked in sweat.

"From the look of you, you've been out walking," the officer said to me. "I've been out running," I replied. "How far are you going?" he asked. So there I stood, wet and half naked, explaining to a police officer where I'd started from, how far I'd run so far, and how many miles I'll have done by the time I get home. I didn't mind responding since he is, after all, one of our town's finest. He and the store clerk were both impressed and offered some nice words of encouragement.

I walked outside, unwrapped the bar to take a bite, and then it struck me, "How did I even get here??" Two hours ago I wasn't sure I'd run this far. Now the worst of the run was over and it's only 3.3 miles to home. Wow!

How could a run that almost didn't happen at all, turn out okay? Even better than just okay?

That's the power of running!

$ R $

Crazy Caffeine Indulgence

2011-08-22T05:39:00.001-07:00

Vacation is over. The suitcases are unpacked and dirty clothes washed, folded, and put away. I must admit that I slept more soundly in my own bed, cat pressed hard against me. As glad as I am to be home (and my cat concurs), it really was a great vacation! A friend and I shared bottles of wine and beautiful sunsets. I ate some very good seafood. I played some golf. I ran. I indulged in Starbuck's.

What's that, you say? Starbucks?

There is a Starbuck's at the south end of the resort, just a nice, convenient 1.7 miles from my villa on the north end of Captiva. This is not a good thing. Well, it is if you're a Starbuck's fan. When I was still working, a colleague and I would escape to Starbuck's once a week or so for a mid-morning caffeine hit. Now that I'm retired, it's a rare treat. So here was this Starbuck's, right on my running route all this past week. Do I indulge? Do I spend the money on a Latte, when I have a perfectly good coffee maker back at the villa? I mean, $3 or $4 of fixed-income money is a lot to spend for a cup of coffee. But then, I am on vacation, right? What to do, what to do?

I did a 4 mile run on Saturday, and ran right past the Starbuck's. Will power, girl!! I confess...that was very hard to do. So on Sunday morning I succumbed to temptation and tucked a $5 bill in with my door key, ran about 3 miles, then doubled back to the Starbuck's and treated myself before finishing my run.

I had another $5 bill with me when I did my 10 mile run early Tuesday morning, but thought better of the indulgence, thinking what I really needed was a hearty post-long-run breakfast on my screened-in patio, instead.

But, otherwise, the precedent had been set. When a good friend joined me at the resort on Tuesday afternoon, this became our morning routine for the rest of the week. I'd leave the villa at 6:15 or 6:30 in the morning for a run. He'd drive down and meet me at the Starbuck's for coffee and pastries 45 minutes later.

Now...here's the thing. I discovered that it's entirely possible to run, holding a Starbucks in one hand, if I put my thumb over the hole in the lid. Good to know, right?

First Hard Miles

2011-08-20T16:16:00.001-07:00

A friend of mine posted a question on Facebook the other day, calling out to a couple of us who are runners, hoping we'd have an answer for him. He's just started running, did his very first run this past week. He posted how far he went - a combination of jogging and walking - and how fast he did it, what his heartrate was, expressed as a percentage of max, and then wanted to know if all of this sounded reasonable. Was he going too slow? Should he be able to go faster than that? Was the heartrate about right?

The other running friend and I both responded to his Facebook post within minutes of each other, with nearly the same answers. We told him to stop concentrating on speed, heart rate, time; to just concentrate on how he feels. I mentioned the "talk" test as the best gauge of effort. Could he hold up his end of a conversation in short sentences, without gasping? We both suggested to him that, as a brand new runner, he should work on gaining distance, not speed. Speed will come naturally with experience. Work up to running 3 miles without walking, even if this means slowing down his pace.

My friend's question reminded me of a fellow who, several years ago, joined our running club. It's a club whose primary purpose is to train runners for the next year's marathon. He was a middle-aged fellow, a big guy carrying more than a few extra pounds, and he'd signed up as a brand new runner. Our season started in late June, starting that first Saturday with a three mile run, and then progressing to longer distances every week as we got deeper into the marathon training season.

As we took off running on that first morning, I remember thinking, as I saw this big fellow lumber ahead of much of the pack, that he was starting out too fast. Sure enough, we all caught up with him within a quarter of a mile when he stopped to walk, face red as a beet, sweat already soaking the back of his t-shirt. Then just a few moments later, I heard what sounded like a steam engine huffing and puffing behind me. He caught up and then overtook us, continuing on ahead. This went on several times during the run; if he would just slow down his pace, he might not have to walk so much, if at all. Eventually we left him far behind, to the care and ministrations of our coaches who would fall back near the end of each run to pull up the rear.

After these Saturday morning runs, the club always had Gatorade, water, and some breakfast snacks waiting for us. Usually a guest speaker or one of the coaches would talk about some aspect of training or running gear. Duriing these after-run activities, this fellow had discouragement written all over his face. He showed up just a few more Saturdays, then eventually dropped out.

Unfortunately this fellow put some rather high and unrealistic expectations on himself. He looked up ahead toward the front of the pack,where the elite in our group were literally flying. But in doing so, he looked past a valuable source of new runner motivation: The middle-pack and back-of-the-pack runners, mostly us women, who run along happily chit-chatting and talking "trash" with each other, encouraging one another along the way.

If you're new to running, or if you've been running a bit here and there but are now getting into a serious race training program, don't get caught up with the numbers. Instead, let yourself get caught up with the "feel." Use the feeling of "effort," not a clock, to tell you how you're doing. Use the feeling of accomplishment to gauge your success. If it feels good to you, then that's all that matters. Stick to realistic training objectives, build a good mileage base, then run that race and cross the finish line. And feel good about yourself, no matter what that clock says.

Oh....and Bob, my Facebook friend and brand new runner? Rock on, my friend! See you at a starting line somewhere soon!

Moon Showers

2011-08-19T05:17:00.001-07:00

It was pitch dark when I struck out early Tuesday morning for my 10 mile Captiva Island run. My headlamp illuminated a skinny path in front of me on the otherwise black and narrow road. Running through the darkness, I heard an owl, a rapid woo-woo-woo call, somewhere in the trees off to my right, not too far away.

I could see lightning playing in the clouds off in the distance, illuminating the overcast sky. Then, as the road took a bend to the right and headed toward the beachfront, a break in the clouds off to the west revealed a beautiful full moon.  It was still high in the sky, its silvery light outlining the clouds with a satin glow and creating a mystical skyscape over the Gulf waters.

To add to the magic of this moment, it began to rain ever so lightly, little more than a mist. As I ran along the beach front, the sand glowed in the moonlight and the rolling surf sent its whispered murmurs into the night. At that moment I was transfixed. Moonlight, misty showers...moon showers! Above the sound of the surf, thousands of tree frogs and insects chirped and chipped all around me. The miles just flew by!

I was at the 5-mile turnaround point in what seemed like no time at all! I paused for a few moments to look out over the water, watching the tides push toward the little bridge that separates Captiva from Sanibel Islands.  Mr. Moon was leaving his glitter-dusted fingerprints atop the ocean ripples, and a long slender streak of silver shot west toward the horizon.

Reverie over, I turned back north to return those 5 miles toward home base. The sun was just coming up over the horizon as I entered the little town of Captiva.   A break in the vegetation on the east side of the road gave me a glimpse of a brilliant red ball sandwiched perfectly between the waters of the bay and a low-hanging cloud bank. Gray veils of rain were visible to either side of the sun, harbingers of today's weather. That rain would be coming our way and if I hurry, I'll make it home before it hits the island.

It's mornings like this that make me glad that I am a runner...

š R ›

GU and Other Sticky Stuff

2011-08-19T05:16:00.001-07:00

Do these look familiar? Yeah, they do to me, too. I buy this stuff by the case. What's your favorite flavor? Mine is vanilla. I like the chocolate flavor (of course!) and can sometimes tolerate strawberry-banana. Shot Bloks? Gotta say, they're mighty tasty; they remind me of Dots, those yummy, chewy candies that are a staple at movie theaters. But I'm not sure I could get them chewed and swallowed while running.

Pretzel sticks - the little ones - work for me on really long runs. I put a handful into a snack-sized self-seal bag and tuck them into the waistband of my running shorts. The crunchy saltiness just somehow satisfies a craving. On one of my really long runs, I found myself sharing my pretzel sticks with another gal whom I'd fallen in with along the route. She was quickly won over by the "just rightness" of the salt, the small size, the way they dissolved in her mouth with very little chewing effort.

But for that over-the-top "WONDERFUL," let me share with you what a friend did for me a few years ago. He and I were talking about my upcoming marathon and the subject came around to what I ate to sustain me over those 26 miles. I told him about GU and about my pretzel sticks, and he asked me the most unexpected question: "Yes, but when you're at mile 18 or 20, what do you really crave?" I thought about that for a few moments, and then it struck me. Fresh.. White.. Bread. The gummier and softer, the better. Just saying that out loud to my friend made my mouth water.

This person is one of my biggest supporters. He's not a runner himself, but always asks about my running, my races, my training. He wanted to come out to the race route to cheer me on that year, so I gave him directions and suggestions for several places along the route. I wasn't sure where to expect him, and he wasn't sure where exactly he'd be, but he told me to be looking for him as I passed those locations.

On race day there he stood, at the top of Westpark bridge at mile 15, wildly waving his arms over his head and shouting my name. He was afraid I wouldn't see him and run right by. No chance of that happening! Greeting each other at the top, he ran down the backside of the bridge along with me, chanting, "Go, Barb! Go, Barb!"

The next time I saw him that day, he was at the top of the Memorial Parkway hill at mile 21. This time he was holding something in his hands, something that looked like...could it be? It was a loaf of bread, freshly baked, still warm! He tore it in half just as I approached and held it out to me. I reached over, dug my fingers into that soft, wonderful center and scooped out a big chunk of heavenly soft, gorgeously fluffy freshly baked white bread. It was absolutely, stunningly perfect!

I ran the next two miles clutching that giant chunk of fresh white bread, tearing off bite-sized pieces and popping them into my mouth. They literally melted on my tongue. Oh, my!

Now, this is my idea of the perfect race food!

÷ Y ø

Taking This Show on the Road

2011-08-14T15:08:00.001-07:00

I'm heading to south Florida, taking two days to drive to the Gulf Coast side to spend a week on the beach. By the time you read this, I'll be on Captiva Island.

I've been coming here since the early '80's, but what's decidedly different these last ten years are the contents of my suitcase. Nearly a third of the space in my 21" roller bag is filled with running clothes for this trip: Tops, shorts, hats, socks, shoes, hydration belt, bottles, and let's not forget the Glide and the Gu! Jamming all of this into the suitcase for this trip made me laugh out loud!

As I was packing, I smiled in remembrance of trips taken to Captiva many years ago. It seems like only yesterday that I was folding little boy's shorts, swim suits, little t-tops, socks into the suitcase, and was trying to figure out how to bring pool toys, beach toys, and quiet-time rainy day toys onto the airplane. That was almost 30 years ago, when my son was little. Now he's a grown man with little ones of his own. Some day soon I hope to come here with my grandkids. They have a great kids' daycamp here which we took full advantage of when my son was little.

I look forward to coming here, and to the change of scenery that it brings to my training. It's like being a kid again and going away to camp, only now it's my very own running camp!

The road that runs the length of the island between the little bridge on the south end, spanning a tiny pass between Sanibel and Captiva, and my place at the far northern end of the island is about 5 miles long and is the perfect runner's stretch of road. If I run it end to end, pause to enjoy the views on the little bridge, then turn around and run back to my place, I'll have done the perfect 10 mile run. I'll get 2 or 3 shorter runs in, too, while I'm here, but the highlight of the week will be doing this long run on such a deligthful road.

Why am I so energized by this running vacation? I guess it's because it's different. We're the same way when it comes to other matters of life, are we not?. A change in routine - the simple, mundane parts of day-to-day living - puts everything into a whole new light. Re-paint a room and witness the transformation. Buy a new car and suddenly that commute to work is a little more tolerable. Try a new flavor dressing and rediscover salads. Glimpse your loved one in a candid moment and fall in love all over again.

Running Logs

2011-08-12T17:57:00.000-07:00

My log books from 2001 to 2009

One of the best pieces of advice I received as a brand new runner back in 2001 was to keep a running log. USAFit, through one of the local running stores, gave away some really great log books that year and encouraged us to record our times, distances, and notes about our runs. I dutifully recorded each workout, entering in the number of minutes I ran, the distance I covered, what route I ran, and a few words about weather, how I felt, what I wore, who I ran with.

I found keeping that log inspiring. Each page represented a week and at the end of the week I could total up my minutes and my distance, and watch both of those numbers grow as my first year of running advanced toward that first marathon.Over the years I've kept many log books - one a year - until January 2009, when I switched to an on-line log maintained by Runners World. Even now, I look back at the previous year's log to compare this year's training progress to last year's, to look up a route, or what I wore in similar weather, or what the weather was like the same time last year.

The very first entry in my brand new log book the year I was a brand new runner is dated July 10, 2001 and in it I wrote, "31 minutes; 3.5 miles." I entered "Memorial Park" in the column titled "course" and under notes, I wrote, "Hot; ate before, which gave me cramps at the 1.5 mile mark. Felt very strong otherwise." Looking back at that, I can laugh at the rookie tax I paid that day. I'm also more impressed now than I might have been that day...I was 52 years old at the time and had gone from couch potato who'd never run a mile in her adult life to running a very respectable pace in less than 4 months.

Here's another one from that first log book, dated August 4, 2001: "64 minutes; 6 miles. Ran neighborhood; nice! temps and humidity perfect. put water in mailbox. Amber moon." I love that I took the time back then, even as a new runner, to record the little details. Amber moon!

Thumbing through the book was a real trip down memory lane! A few months later, on October 23, 2001, "31 minutes; 3.1 miles; 5K race, Baltimore. Hills! Walked approx. 1/2 mile." I'd forgotten about that race! It was held in conjunction with a national meeting for healthcare research professionals. We don't have hills in south Texas!

Then, December 1, 2001: "215 minutes; 18.6 miles; Sugarland 30K race. 3 pee breaks but no lines; great support by Clear Lake Fit [my running club]; Rainy, cold, some wind from north. Good run, difficult last 1.5 miles. Hands got cold; wore bra, singlet, long sleeve coolmax crew, shorts. Was exact right amount of clothing!"

I remember this race so well!! It was indeed a miserable cold rain, and that northerly wind! I will never forget the personal triumph of that day, running 30K in difficult conditions. Many runners didn't show up; many others balked at the start line and returned to their cars. I remember changing into dry clothes afterward in the back seat of my car while my running partner stood "guard" outside. We huddled together in the car for a few minutes afterward, trying to warm up and congratulating each other for jobs well done. Stopping for Mexican food afterward, we had stiffened up so much we were barely able to get out of the car, barely able to hobble into the restaurant. The 30K race is the last in a series of four progressively longer races, all part of the Houston Warm-up Series leading up to the Houston Marathon in January. Six weeks later, I would run that marathon, my first, ever.

I have no idea how many miles I've covered in the ten-plus years that I've now been running. I know it's a bunch. I also know that I'm in the "twilight" of my running years. As much as I'd like to keep running forever, I know that the day will come when I'll lose the ability, or the desire, or both. I've not thumbed through these old logs in a while, but doing so now, skimming through these sometimes sweat-rumpled pages, I realize just how much running has become a part of my life. I get a kick out of reading my little comments and asides, recorded so many years ago; my self-congratulations, my "Uggh's" when a run didn't go well, and my "Hooray's" when I conquered a new distance or had an especially good run.

During the Houston marathon this past January, I came up behind a friend and fellow runner, Jo Ann. In her early 70's now, she still cuts a slim figure out there, but her pace is unmistakably that of someone who's running through the pain of arthritis. As I pulled along side, I slowed to her pace and we ran side by side for a while, getting caught up. She confessed that she has slowed down a lot these last couple of years, but also expressed her optimism; she was going to do this, to finish this marathon. I had no doubts that she would and made a point to check her results once they were posted on-line. I know that one day, that will be me.

When I can no longer run, I will have the memories...and these log books. They're a permanent record of an important part of my life. If you're not keeping a log or running diary, consider starting one now. Your memories may fade, but ink is permanent.

Blind Munchies

2011-08-10T11:10:00.000-07:00

I can tell when my weekly mileage starts to increase, because I become a bottomless pit! It seems no matter what I eat, nothing fills me up. I'm hungry...all of the time.

If I keep busy doing stuff, I don't notice, but if I'm sitting at the computer working, or if I'm watching TV, I'm overcome by the dreaded "blind munchies!" Food makes its way into my mouth without my even thinking about it. My favorites: Graham crackers, granola bars, pretzels, cheese, a luscious Texas peach. And then there's that dreaded "C" food... chocolate. I keep secret stashes of it around the house like a hopelessly unreformed alcoholic.

I'm guessing part of this is because I'm retired and without all the distractions of a busy job. Either that, or I just didn't notice my intake while sitting in an office. Well, come to think of it, there was always a box of Graham Crackers hidden in my desk, and those little yogurts tucked in the lunch room fridge.

It's a big class - we're divided into the 8 AM group and 9 AM group

But maybe the other part is that I've added some cross-training to my weekly miles. I never did that in the past; my busy job, running up and down flights of stairs all day, every day, eschewing the elevator, gave me plenty of that. So now, on my recovery days - the days I don't run - I've been doing water aerobics in the mornings three days a week. The water aerobics instructor is a drill sargeant and cuts no slack for anyone. It's rigorous and fast-paced and, as anyone knows who's ever done it, it can be as hard as you make it. Larger underwater movements, stand in deeper water, work with more and larger float boards...well, you get the idea.

Lining up for leg exercises

Actually, now that my long runs are up over 9 miles, my legs are balking at the idea of doing a long miler and then water aerobics the following day. I tried it last week, and boy oh boy! The next run, a 4 miler, my legs had gone on strike! It was like I had cement shoes on. Maybe I'll skip aerobics after that long run.

How most of us get to water aerobics class! (My Trek on the far right)

So...note to self: Make that water aerobics TWO days a week!

– { —

What the Heck Am I Doing?

2011-08-08T11:18:00.000-07:00

This morning I got up at 5:00 AM and ran 9.1 miles. That seems like a crazy thing to do at this time of year, especially knowing that when it comes to training for a half or full marathon, I take a low-key attitude. I do only what a traditional training schedule calls for - no more, occasionally a little less. If I'm not in a training cycle, then it's maintenance miles for me! A 6-miler once a week; a couple of 4-miler easy days, maybe squeeze another easy day in. I'll drop down to this schedule immediately after a race and follow it until another running event pops up on the calendar and then it's time to start adding that long-slow-distance day to the weekly schedule. I'm no spring chicken and, at my age, my body takes longer to recover. I've been injury-free and I want to stay that way.

Going back to those 9 miles I ran this morning...it would be a little soon for me to be doing that distance if my next race was the WHM (ever the lazy trainer that I am). But last winter, right after I finished running in the Houston event, I got a "wild hair" and signed up for a half-marathon in Michigan in mid-September. Must have been the endorphins. I don't know what I was thinking at the time, knowing that I wanted to do the Women's Half Marathon in November. Except that I ran the Maui Marathon/Half Marathon last September and found that slipping a fall race into the schedule worked out just fine. Since I run a half-marathon in early May, the training isn't so hard for another one 4 months later, in September. And then the WHM would be just two months after that. . A relatively short span of time, just enough to recover, not so much time that my body would forget how to run that distance.

So there you have it. I have a half-marathon coming up in mid-September, and then the Women's Half Marathon exactly two months later in November. I'm running in this ridiculous heat and humidity at o'dark thirty in the morning when I really wouldn't have to if I hadn't let those endorphins do all the talking! My long run this week was 9 miles, next week? Who knows. Maybe 10, maybe 8. All I know is that my long run on September 18 needs to be 13.1 miles

Endurance Parallels

2011-08-07T12:39:00.001-07:00

I started riding a motorcycle about the same time I ran my first marathon. These seem like wildly diverse activities, but when examined more closely, they are strikingly similar. You see, I'm what's called a "long distance motorcycle rider." Those words could also be applied to those of us who run marathons and half-marathons...we're long distance runners.

The vast majority of folks who ride motorcycles would agree that a 300-mile day is plenty long enough. For them, this is a good day of riding, just enough to clear out the mental "cobwebs," keep their riding skills sharp, and get their "knees in the breeze." And there are many runners who run 3 or 4 miles two or three times a week, just enough to maintain a perfectly acceptable level of aerobic conditioning, lose or maintain weight, and to reap other health benefits and to feel good.

By comparison, a long distance motorcycle rider will cover 300 miles before lunch. That would be me. I'll easily cover 700-800 miles a day, day after day, on a multi-day motorcycle trip. The generally accepted definition of a "long distance rider" is one who has met the entry requirements to join the Iron Butt Association (IBA) and only a very small percentage - probably less than 0.1% of all motorcycle riders - ever do. It's interesting to note that this is no different for marathon runners; we represent a very tiny percentage of the running community in our pursuit of distance.

So how does a motorcycle rider gain entry into the Iron Butt Association? "Iron Butt" is an apropos name for this organization, as it truly does take a cast-iron derrier to stay on a motorcycle for the hours and hours it takes to complete an "Iron Butt" ride. A coveted IBA membership number is awarded to each rider who successfully completes the qualifying ride - what's called a SaddleSore 1000 (See? Another apropos moniker), which is riding 1,000 miles in less than 24 hours - and meeting very specific rules for documenting this accomplishment. New and more challenging long distance endurance rides then await the new IBA member. We spread our running "wings" in much the same way, but without the need to qualify for membership in any organization. The only "qualification" is in the form of self-evaluation of our goals and dreams. We enter our first 5K race, survive it, and then start looking for the next challenge: A 10K perhaps? Maybe stretch ourselves a little more and take on our first half-marathon?

My most challenging ride so far has been a Bun Burner Gold, considered an "extreme" ride by the IBA, since it required that I ride 1,500 miles in less than 24 hours. Hence the name of this ride - "Bun Burner." My buns went beyond burning to being numb by the time I finished this ride. The"Gold" designation always means it's considered an extreme ride, so take all precautions for health and safety. I'd compare that ride to running a full marathon, since successfully finishing both of these activities entails a positive can-do attitude, training to build up to those distances, and the ability to pace oneself, not start out too fast, keep the breaks short and to a minimum, and maintain steady forward progress.

I face the same physical and mental challenges when I'm doing a long distance ride that I do as a long distance runner. I condition and train for long distance riding by building up my miles "in the saddle" until I have the physical and mental stamina to comfortably sit on my motorcycle and stay alert for long days and long miles. Sound familiar? Build the miles slowly on those long runs, do recovery runs and maybe do some cross-training on the other days. The mental and physical stamina for long distance running comes in handy when piling on the miles on two wheels.

The parallels between these two activities extends into diet and hydration demands, as well. Stay hydrated, replacing water and electrolytes lost to perspiration, and eat the right foods. Just like in running, diet is key to preventing gastrointestinal distress while riding those long miles, an ailment that seems to strike runners and endurance motorcyclists equally. I eat light before a long endurance ride, just the same way that I eat light before a long endurance run. The only real difference is that, when I'm in the saddle, I eat light snacks rich in protein and complex carbohydrates. During a long run, I concentrate on ingesting simple carbohydrates such as those found in gels.

The reaction of the mainstream motorcycling community to my long distance riding is, "Why would you do that?" But then, we get that same reaction from our non-running friends, family, and co-workers when we say we've run a marathon, don't we? We do these activities, not to impress others, but to test and challenge ourselves, to test our mental strength, will power, and physical stamina. We set that goal out there, and then dare ourselves to meet it. And when we do, the feeling is indescribable!

Long distance endurance motorcyclist? Yep, that's me.

Long distance runner? Yep, that's me, too.

– { –

'Fleas' for the Mind

2011-08-05T06:13:00.000-07:00

Summer mornings come entirely too early for me...but for a reason you might not be expecting! I really like this time of year, how daylight stays with us for so long in the evenings, how it's actually light out for a couple of hours after dinner, long enough to take a stroll or bike ride, or work in the garden for a bit as the day cools down. But I'm torn between enjoying or dreading the early sunrise. You see, in summertime, here where I live, sun peeking over the horizon is synonymous with early morning temperatures over 80 degrees.

So when I woke up the other day at 6:45 AM, it was beyond sunrise...it was full-blown daylight out there! I'd overslept! I groaned, rolled out of bed, and changed into running clothes. Then I moved toward the door, bracing myself for a miserably hot run.

I don't know about you, but if I don't have something interesting or constructive to think about while I run, especially when conditions are less than ideal for running, I'll channel all of my mental energies into dwelling on negative things, like that new ache or pain, the boring route, my snail's pace, the sweat dripping off my elbows, the wad of sock rubbing on my big toe. And then I'm miserable. Not good. If I can conjure up something interesting, something to really sink my mental "teeth" into...good. If it's something colossally beefy to keep my mind occupied for a really long while...even better.

A friend of mine is writing a book, a true story about an incredibly adventurous trip he took earlier this year. He's doing the writing and I'm doing the editing. It's a fascinating story and he's doing a great job writing it, which makes my job as editor an easy one. But there have been a few passages that we just can't seem to conquer. We've "word-crafted" these short sections several times, but they just never sound quite right. So this morning I wrestled with a couple of them in my head while I ran, rolling them around on my "mental tongue," looking at them from different angles, trying out different approaches and different word choices, and then reciting these changes in my mind to hear how they sounded. Well, I gotta tell you, those four miles just flew by! I never once thought about the heat, or the humidity, or how much I wanted to get this run over with.

Before I knew it, I had turned onto my street and was heading toward my house. With the morning run complete, difficult book passages possibly resolved, I sat down at the computer, sweat still dripping, to record those words before I forgot them.

I find a certain humorous analogy in the following quote: "They say a reasonable amount of fleas is good for a dog - keeps him from brooding over being a dog..." ~Edward Noyes Westcott, successful NY banker and writer.

My prayer to the run gods: May I never be at a loss for 'fleas.'

Now it's your turn: How do you channel your mental thoughts while you run? Do listen to music or books? Do you concentrate on your running form or your leg turnover? Or do you "escape" into your own thoughts?

Third Time's the Charm

2011-08-04T15:12:00.000-07:00

My first two attempts to catch the Three Amigos - the three little raccoon littermates living in my back yard - were foiled by their ability to get into the traps, eat the the food, and then exit the traps without triggering the trap door. So, not discouraged, I came up with a solution. Apparently these three little guys are not heavy enough to spring the trap door. They are juveniles and littermates, and aren't very big. I needed to find a way to get them to sit on the trigger plate in a way that all of their weight is centralized in one spot.

I came up with the idea of putting pieces of cut-up peach into stocking feet, sacrificing an old pair of pantyhose for this job. I was able to easily push the stocking sacks down through the grate of the cage roofs and tie them in place, directly over the trigger plates. They hung down about 6", enough that the raccoons could sit on their haunches and work and "worry" the fruit juices and pieces of fruit out of the stocking mesh material. I also sprinkled a liberal amount of dry cat food on the ground inside of the traps.

Traps baited, I went back inside and went about my business. At around 9:30 PM, my curiosity got the better of me, so I grabbed a flashlight and went outside to the back yard to check the traps. Bingo! Two of the three little guys were securely locked inside one of the traps. The third little guy was on the outside of the other trap, trying to get at the fruit sack through the grating. He walked into the trap, towards the rear, discovered the cat food, and busily grabbed and munched away, but then turned and exited the cage again, intent on getting at that fruit sack from the outside. But as I stood there, he gave up and headed back into the trap and toward the rear where that sack hung. And the door was sprung! He was now safely caught!

But oh, my! The adorable little trills coming from those cages out there! It was heart-breaking! I slept very poorly last night, worrying about those raccoons out there. I didn't want to do them harm or to injure them, or to cause them undue suffering or distress. At 4:45 AM this morning I woke up again, and could not get back to sleep. So I got up, got into my running clothes and then went outside to check on the three amigos. The two that were trapped together in one of the cages were lying in a pile, their arms around each other, peering out at me.

The third little guy, in his own trap, was clearly distressed and desperate. He was trilling and clicking away, busily digging a trench along the outside edges of the trap. This was killing me!

I headed out in the dark to get a short run in and, when I returned, started my coffee pot and made breakfast, killing time until I thought the management office would be open so that I could call to arrange having the little guys picked up and transported away. There was no answer, so I left a message. An hour later, at 8:00 AM I hopped on my bicycle and rode over to the office, thinking they should be open by now. But the lights were turned off and no one was there. I really had no idea when our property manager arrives each day.

So I went back to the house and, because the sun was starting to get higher in the sky, I tried to rig up a way of giving the little raccoons some water. They had now been in those traps for almost 12 hours. I tried sliding plastic picnic plates under one corner of the cages and filling them to brimming with water. They would be able to drink the water, since the screening of the floor of the cages is a very open caging. A little while later, when I checked on them, the duo in one cage had filled the plate with grass, in their attempt to build a nest inside their cage. The other raccoon, by its digging around the perimeter of the cage, had quickly filled the plate under his cage with dirt. Well, that's not going to work.

What to do...what to do. Then I had another idea. Ice cubes! I went back inside and filled a couple of containers with ice from my ice maker. The crescent-shaped cubes just barely fit through the screening of the cages, but I managed to get a couple of dozen cubes into each of the cages and then filled the containers with water and placed them up against the cages. I dragged the cages closer to the base of two trees, both to ensure they stayed in the shade as the sun got higher, and to get them off the lawn and onto the mulch under the trees. These guys were really making a mess of the grass under their cages and along the perimeter. Then I sprinkled some more cat food into both of the cages, which the little guys promptly started to eat.

I spent a good amount of time with these cute little guys this morning, as I fussed over them, fed them, tried to give them water, and made sure they were in the shade and not getting too hot or too stressed. In that time, I could clearly discern three very different personalities among the three of them. The raccoon in the cage by himself was clearly the aggressive one, and I imagine that he's the one who "faux boxed" with me a couple of months ago. You can read that blog entry here: Three Amigos . He is definitely the "fighter" of the three, never giving up, determined to dig himself out of that cage, and also the most vocal of the three. Of the two raccoons who were in the other trap together, one was very shy, usually hiding under or behind the other one, often curled up, hiding his face behind his paws, and sleeping (or feigning sleep). It was definitely beneficial that these two got trapped together. They kept each other calm, and held each other or huddled together for much of the time.

Then there's the third little guy, the one sharing the cage with the shy one. Clearly the most clever of the three, and the most outgoing. He was never afraid of me, always let me approach the cage and get very close with the camera or to put food and water in the cage. He would look at me with those really sweet eyes as if to say, "Hi!" When I placed the bowl of water up against the outside of the cage, this clever little guy immediately reached out and dipped both paws into the water, splaying his toes out into two adorable little fans, and swishing his paws in the water. He'd pull his paws back into the cage and then lick them. He tried to reach his tongue out to the bowl to lap the water. Physically this was clearly possible as his little tongue was long enough, but he just never got it lined up correctly relative to the bowl. Then he turned his attention to the ice cubes. He reached out for one, rolling it toward him and then licking it. Smart little raccoon!!

As cute as these Three Amigos are, I know that they don't belong in our neighborhood, and would be better off relocated out to a more country-like setting. I did finally talk to the property manager to let her know that I had successfully trapped three raccoons. About two hours later - around noontime - one of the maintenance workers arrived in the security pickup truck to take them away. The property manager had called Animal Control and they would be coming shortly to take possession.

I was actually saddened to see these cute guys be taken away. I hope they are treated well and find a new home where they'll be safe and happy.

Raccoons are Smart!

2011-08-03T05:16:00.000-07:00

Or, very wily, at least. So...once again I baited the traps last night with tuna fish and banana, only this time I shoved the food way into the back corner of the cage. I thought this would force the critters to go deep into the cage, turn sideways a bit to get at the food, and then trigger the spring door to close. But, no it didn't. The food was gone and the traps empty this morning.

On to plan "B." I'm going to put some fruit into a cloth or mesh bag and hang it from the roof of the cage, back in the corner. My reasoning is that this will force the raccoon to sit on its haunches while trying to solve the "puzzle." Hopefully, this action will trigger the release to close the door.

Wish me luck. Will the third time be the charm??

Hidden Secrets - Shhh, Don't Tell!!

2011-08-02T16:27:00.000-07:00

Whenever I start a new race training cycle, I'm energetic and eager to get out there and run! But, boy, when those long run days come up on the schedule, and the distances start their relentless march toward higher and higher mileage, I find that my training needs a shot in the arm. For me, one sure-fire way to do this is to buy a new running outfit or a new pair of running shoes.

I have a confession to make, though. No...make that two confessions, actually. The first is my addiction to cute running clothes. I rationalize my purchases by convincing myself that my running tops and bras have gotten irreversibly sweat-stained and yellowed and my running socks have grown dingy and a little threadbare at the heels. I even imagine that my running shorts have picked up a funk and grubbiness about them. I take to athletic gear stores and websites like a duck to water. I have one dresser drawer devoted just to running clothes. If there's still room in the drawer...time to shop. If the drawer is full...put the credit card away. If the drawer is stuffed so full it won't close...time to weed out those items that are past their prime.

But the fact is, it doesn't matter how adorable I think my running outfit looks when I step out the door, running is a sweaty and smelly and sometimes muddy activity. I've come to accept this fact, knowing that how good I look at the end of a run will be inversely proportional to how many miles I've covered, and the further into my half-marathon training program I get, the greater this truism becomes. It reaches a point when only my cat will get close to me.

This morning, after running 8 miles, I was feeling decidedly un-ladylike with my dripping hair and sweat-soaked armpits. I've come up with my own secret way of feeling feminine on the inside, even when I'm looking gross on the outside.

So here's my second confession: I love red toenails!

There's just something about having brightly painted toes secretly tucked inside of those utilitarian running shoes! When I'm at my grossest and sweatiest, peeling off my wet socks and seeing those gay toes reminds me that I'm a woman. Sort of like wearing an especially feminine and lacy bra under a heavy, flannel shirt.

It's my little secret. Shhh! Don't tell!

Little Rascals

2011-08-02T11:40:00.000-07:00

Remember these three amigos? I posted about them here at my blog a couple of months ago.

Well, they're all grown up and making pests of themselves in my yard. They've chosen a slight depression under a tree in my backyard and are using it as their campsite at night. Their sleep and play has matted down and killed an oval-shaped spot of grass in that spot.

Then, night before last, they managed to get up on the roof of my house - I think they shimmied up the drain spout, from the sounds they were making - and thumped around and played hide-and-seek up there for hours. The cat was beyond distraught, and I was wishing I had a shotgun. I went outside with a flashlight and walked around the house, eventually finding them playing on one of the roof ridges at the front of the house. They froze mid-play when I trained the flashlight on them.

So I stopped by our property management office the next day to request a couple of traps, which were delivered later in the afternoon. That night I baited them with tuna fish and chunks of banana and then went to bed. When I awoke this morning, it was still dark. I wanted to get a long run in before it got too light out, but before I started, my curiosity got the better of me, so I grabbed the flashlight and went out the back door to peek at the traps...no critters.

Returning from my long run, I walked around to the back to check the traps again in daylight. I wanted to see if there was any evidence of them taking the bait. My treacherous plans had been foiled!! The bait was gone, the traps were "unsprung!"

Readers of my blog may recall my previous attempts to trap the pair of raccoons that were terrorizing my back yard last year. They were no doubt the parents of the trio that are now terrorizing my back yard this year. I was not successful trapping either of those racoons but did manage to trap a large opossum. But the trap at the time was a slightly different design. In that case, the trap was sprung near the entrance, when the weight of the animal tripped the latch on the door and it closes behind the animal.

These traps are different. The trip mechanism is at the rear of the trap. The animal must travel all the way into the trap and go all the way to the back. An animal that is facile at backing up can very easily get into the trap, retrieve the food, and then back out, without tripping it. These clever raccoons, with their dextrous front paws, were able to get in, grab the food, and get out. Well, at least they have figured out that the traps equal treats. So I've re-baited them, only this time I've put the food up against the back wall so that the raccoons must go all the way in. If they do, they'll step on the plate and that should trigger the trap. We hope.

Is it November, Yet??

2011-07-31T16:25:00.000-07:00

I am so excited! A new-to-me half-marathon...one designed, organized, and staged just for women! And a late fall half-marathon, at that, in St. Petersburg FL. Road trip!! Can you tell I'm excited?

Now, I have nothing against men who run, but I'm thinking a race by women just for women is a really cool thing. Being a short person (my son calls me 'midget mom'), I've lined up in the crush of the starting line at other races, fending off the elbows of men who are pressed in on all sides. So, lining up at the start with my running "sisters" will definitely be a pleasant experience! The enthusiastic gals staffing the WHM booth at a Fitness Expo in May assured me of this. Then there's that really gorgeous finisher's medal!

Flash back to a year ago. I was looking for an end-of-year race event in a different city, one that would be fun to visit, not only as a runner, but as a tourist, too. Good weather would be important that time of year, naturally. So would a runner-friendly course...my way of saying a course that isn't too hilly. And a loop course would be nice, a loop that is scenic. Oh, and hotels within walking distance of the start and finish. Some really nice race swag. Am I asking for too much? Yeah, it does sound like I'm being kinda picky. But, what's this? My internet search uncovered the Women's Half Marathon in St. Petersburg, FL. Now, how perfect is this?! Other events and budget constraints nudged it off my calendar for 2010, but I sure did file that WHM race information away, promising myself I'd take another look at it for 2011. When registration opened for this year's event, I was there, online, signing up.

So here it is, early August, and the WHM in St. Petersburg FL is just three and a half months away. That sounds like eons of time to train and get ready, but I have learned the hard way how time can slip away in a heartbeat. I really dislike that feeling when I realize there's a race looming and my long run mileage isn't even close to sufficient. Maybe there are more stressful things in life (broken air conditioners or burst water pipes come to mind) but not feeling like I'm ready on race day morning - at the moment I'm standing on the start line - is going to "peg" mighty high on my stress-o-meter.

In self-defense, therefore, I've taken the proverbial "bull by the horns" this summer and am trying to stick to a schedule. As dreadfully hot as it's been, I'm rewarding myself with little gold stars (well, maybe a little bit of extra chocolate, too) for getting out there and running in the mornings. My runs may not be elegant and my pace may be agonizingly slow but, by golly, I'm (more or less) getting it done.

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How did I ever get into this madness called running in the first place? I call it madness because, well, some of my non-running friends really do think I'm mad. But that's another story. So, here's how it happened... Ten years ago a good friend gently pushed me into a spectator role at the marathon here in town. He was running in it and thought I'd enjoy cheering him on. Actually, I think he enjoyed the "one woman cheering section" as much as I did being there for him. In all seriousness, though, it was an eye-opener for me. Not being a runner at all - not even the occasional jogger - I watched in amazement as runners of all sizes, shapes, and ages ran past me, having the times of their lives. Many were using the event as a fund raiser for their favorite charity, others were running in memory of loved ones. Well, I had recently lost my husband to cancer and saw this as my new raison d'être.

After the race was over, when my friend and I re-connected, I sought his help in getting started on what has become the journey of a lifetime for me. He was my mentor and trainer. From being a total non-runner, I ever-so-slowly gained stamina and experience, entering some local 5K races, then a 10K race, then enrolling in a marathon-training program in our city. I had no idea what I was doing; I just followed the "program" and took my friend's advice. I kept putting one foot in front of the other until one day I realized, "Hey, I'm a runner!" When enrollment opened for the next year's marathon, I signed up and, at the same time, signed up with one of the charities to raise money for cancer research.

One year later, after that fateful Sunday morning standing on the sidelines, I was running in my first marathon along that very same street where I stood the year before. I couldn't believe I was actually there, doing this, doing what seemed improbable to me 12 months earlier. I raised a few hundred dollars that first year, but vowed to triple that amount next time. Now it's 10 years later and I confess that the "feel good" part of raising money to fight cancer is trumped only by the euphoria of crossing that finish line!

I Had Heard Rumors, but.....

2011-07-30T15:26:00.001-07:00

Now it's confirmed!!

Pretty Red Motorcycles

2011-07-30T09:09:00.000-07:00

I brought my FZ6 in to the dealer's this week for an oil change and to have the brakes flushed. I thought I'd had that done last fall but a quick review of my maintenance log showed otherwise. Yikes! Bad girl! A little overdue (like a year overdue) but better late than never. The oil change was a little early, but I like to think months, not miles on this bike, since she doesn't get ridden as much as the BMW.

I got to the dealer's at around 9:30 a.m., Kindle, snack food, some sandals in a tote bag, and was prepared to wait while they did the work. This dealer is so good to me! I've purchased 5 motorcycles from the Yamaha dealership that was ultimately acquired by this dealership, and some of the staff came with the acquisition. So the service manager knows me well, as does the service writer. The Yamaha technician never fails to come find me and chat a bit whenever he sees my bike show up in the shop, even if he's not been assigned to work on it.

The nice thing about spending time at a dealership this size, and with this much inventory, is that there's plenty to do. Early morning on a weekday, the sales floor staff are eager to chat and to encourage me to sit on the bikes. This day was no different. They had a black FZ8 on the showroom and the staff were more than anxious for me to sit on it, since I rode an FZ6. They even offered to get it prepped for me to take a test ride. I knew that would be dangerous...to my wallet.

The dealership recently acquired the Ducati dealership nearby and will be moving their motorcycle business across the highway to that facility, which is larger and newer and more suited to the mix of brands they now carry. This now-defunct Ducati dealership had taken on BMW's a while back, but they weren't servicing them reliably, so BMW's were included in the acquisition of the Ducati dealership. The ATV/watersports business will stay here at this location. The move is supposed to happen Sun/Mon.

This will be exciting for me, since I'll now have a BMW service department close to home once more, and I'll be dealing with a service department I trust and like. Keeping a BMW dealership on this side of town has been a rocky business. The Yamaha dealer had them for a number of years, and that's where I bought my first BMW. When they gave up the brand few years ago, we no longer had service available close by. Then a new BMW shop opened just up the road - it was a satellite store to a dealership in the Woodlands. It wasn't long before that dealership went out of business. This left us BMW riders with two choices for authorized service: Wild West BMW in Katy TX, an hour away; or Gulf Coast BMW, closer at 20 minutes away but with a questionable service department.

So, as I sat there eating my granola bar and browsing through their assortment of motorcycle magazines, I had a nice lineup of Ducati's sitting before me on the showroom floor: A Monster 696, a Diavel and a Diavel Carbon, and a Multistrada 1200 S Touring. All in shiny, luscious arrest-me red.

Let the Mileage "Bump-Ups" Begin

2011-07-26T08:25:00.000-07:00

I woke with a start, peering over to the clock with bleary eyes, realizing it was a few minutes before 6:00 AM. Not good. I needed to get a long run in today and getting on the road after 6 AM this time of year is self-abuse. 5 AM would be more like it. It's already 79 degrees out and will quickly get hotter the minute that sun is up over the horizon.

Today I've scheduled a 7.5 mile run. That's a 1.5 mile bump from last week's longest run. So now the relentlessly escalating distances will begin in earnest. I scrambled out of bed and, rooting around in the dark, pulled out some running shorts, a jog bra, and a pair of socks that I hope are at least a matching pair. Shoes laced, running watch strapped on, I grabbed a piece of gum and my hat and headed out the door. Then I turned around and headed back inside to drink a glass of water. Almost forgot to do that! I will sweat that out and then some in this morning's heat.

Today there's no cloud cover, just the promise of clear blue skies and the sun was just starting to make it over the horizon and lighten the skies as I finished the first mile. The next couple of miles went by with little effort, but the sun was now letting her presence be known.

Our town recently completed the McHard Road Extension over to Cullen St, which gives me a really excellent addition to my several mapped-out running routes and I've been taking advantage of it almost from day one. This is a long straight stretch of road, about 1.2 miles long, and with the traffic light at the Cullen intersection visible way off in the distance. It's like a beacon for me, that light. As it grows steadily larger in front of me, I know I'm making progress.

For the first time ever, since they opened this extension road and since I've been running on the sidewalk next to it, I saw another runner, a woman, coming the other way. We passed each other, acknowledged each other and then, just as quickly, we were back in our own individual solitudes. I assumed that she was heading back toward home, in the same neighborhood as mine, but when I turned around at Cullen and started to head back the other way, I saw that she was now coming toward me from the other direction. More fodder for the idle and desperate mind: I wondered where she lived, how far she was running, was she training for a race, and other queries as we closed the gap and passed each other once again.

That diversion now over with, and with very little to take my mind off how miserable I was starting to feel, I began to fade in the heat and humidity. I was faced with an uphill stretch and walked a bit to recover some before getting to that section. What keeps me going in this? Why am I such a glutton for punishment? I have absolutely no idea! It would be so easy at this point on my route to just head straight to the house, 1/2 mile away. I wrestled with my conscience for a bit, or until I reached the point on the route where I could either go straight home or turn right to finish the last 2 miles. Will power! Must. Not. Quit!

The very nice community center for our neighborhood sits right there, right where I must turn to continue my run. I rationalized that a stop there for water, bathroom, a little A/C would be preferable to quitting. In fact, it didn't take much to feel revived and refreshed and, after a brief respite, I headed back out the door and continued my run.

My legs churned along for another mile, on a particularly brutal and shadeless stretch of road, temperatures now easily into the 80's, before the road took a bend to the left and I was then running in some shade. What a difference a little shade can make. But I could tell that I was max'ing out my "load limit" for running in this heat and humidity.

With less than a mile remaining, the road became a sun-scorched torture chamber as I slogged along, slower and slower, and eventually my pace dropped to a walk. "Okay," I said to myself, "You can walk for a little bit, but only to that next corner. Then you will break into a run, again." I could live with that deal. So for the last 1/2 mile, I coaxed myself along with mini-goals. "To the next lampost." "To the next cul-de-sac." When was the last time I felt this miserable? I couldn't even remember. Seven miles is not that far...in fact it's not been that long since I did my last half marathon. When was that....early May? But this is what high heat and humidity can do to an otherwise seasoned runner.

A little amnesia goes a long way for a runner. An hour later, cooled down, rehydrated, and eating breakfast, I'm reflecting on this and thinking, "It couldn't really have been that bad, could it?"

What is that smell??

2011-07-24T08:58:00.000-07:00

Have I mentioned how hot it is here in Houston? I mean....have I complained enough about the 80-degree early morning temperatures, the still air with absolutely no breath of a breeze, the humidity that assails the body and prevents sweat from evaporating? Well, if not, then let me whine a little more about it. But I realize we're not alone in this. Vast regions of the rest of the country are suffering as well. And I suppose we're not suffering nearly as much, since this is "business as usual" for us here on the Gulf Coast and everything here in Houston is air-conditioned to the point of goose bumps. I think I've read somewhere that Houston has more "tonnage" of air conditioning than anywhere else in the country.

But here's the story. Friday morning I awoke nice and early and got out just at dawn for a run. I'd done a long run on Wednesday, so this run didn't need to be so long, just a 4 or 5 mile recovery run. I've tossed modesty out the window in this heat and taken to just wearing shorts and jog bra - no shirt or tank top. When I returned from the run my jog bra was completely soaked with sweat as were the running shorts.

I followed my usual routine after my run, had breakfast, checked my emails, read the newspaper on-line, then headed to the bathroom to get cleaned up and dressed, tossing my running clothes into the hamper enroute to the shower. And I didn't give it another thought. Just went about the rest of my day, running errands, watching the Tour de France, doing a little housework.

Fast forward two days and it's now Sunday morning. I awoke a little later this morning so, knowing I wanted to get a run in, I rushed about getting my running clothes on and out the door. But what's that smell? It was a vague smell and I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was and where it was coming from. But a couple of hours later, when I headed back into the bathroom to shower and get dressed, my nose was assaulted by that odor. It seemed much stronger than a couple of hours earlier...or mabye it was because I was now awake and alert. It was a musty, moldy smell and it sure was strong.

Many thoughts passed through my mind as to its source. Could it be a leak somewhere? Was it coming from the attic? But a few steps into the walk-in closet where the hamper is, and I immediately knew where that smell was coming from. Oh, yeah...remember those soggy, sweaty, wet running clothes from Friday? The ones I thoughtlessly tossed into the clothes hamper??

Time to Get Serious!

2011-07-20T11:03:00.000-07:00

Where has the time gone?? I took a peek at the calendar and realized - shoot! - my next half marathon, the Capital City River Run - is just two short months away. Ack!!

After running the Flying Pig Marathon on May 1, I 've been taking it easy...sort of...and putting in just maintenance miles. No runs longer than 5 or 6 miles, no week with more than 13 or 14 total miles. And, gasp! Even a week or two with no running at all! So...down to the business of getting those progressively longer runs in, systematically accumulating more miles, testing myself in this simply awful heat of south Texas.

I'm looking forward to the Capital City River Run. The event runs on paved trails right downtown in Lansing. I may bring a camera with me and be a running tourist! I'm treating the race as if it were just another long run and don't expect to post a PR. My goal is to just have fun!

The next race on my calendar is the Women's Half Marathon in St. Petersburg, FL. I wrote about this a few months back, Houston Marathon Lottery, when I was looking for an alternate race in case I didn't make the Houston Marathon Lottery for the 2011 race. But I was selected for Houston, and filed the information about that St. Petersburg race into my memory.

A month ago, when the lottery opened again for the 2012 Houston Marathon, I resurrected this memory of the St. Petersburg event. I didn't make the lottery so went ahead and registered for this Women's Half in mid-November and made my room reservation at the Hampton Inn. National Running Day So now I have two half marathons coming up: Capital City River Run in mid-September and Women's Half in mid-November.

Time to get serious.

For the Hard of Hearing...Better Coping Skills

2011-07-17T09:06:00.000-07:00

Partial hearing loss can become a wedge in a relationship. I can say from personal experience that spending any time with a person whose hearing loss is enough to require hearing aids can be trying at times. Having to repeat everything two or three times; dealing with miscommunications when the other person doesn't hear key information; becoming the "interpreter" when interacting with restaurant, hotel, and shop staff. It has resulted in the break-up of a long friendship for me.

It seems to me that hearing aids are what I'll call "uni-directional." If I'm not facing the hearing-impaired person directly, much of what I say will be lost, even with that person's hearing aids turned on. People who have begun to lose their hearing underestimate the amount of information they've been gaining by watching a person's face, their eyes, their mouth, when they talk

As anyone who wears them knows, hearing aids are not a perfect solution, and will not restore hearing to what it was when a person was younger. But assuming that just sticking them in your ears and turning them on is enough, is going to lead to frustration for everyone who tries to interact with you. It's going to take more than that to live among the non-hearing-impaired in peace and harmony. There were things that my friend could have done to better cope and adapt and, from my observations and from witnessing his difficulties, I began to formulate a list.

So here are my suggestions for adaptive skills and behavior modifications to all those who are reading this and are hearing-impaired and at some level of denial about it:

Be Pro-Active. The over-arching theme for the rest of these suggestions is to take charge of your hearing disability. Don't sit back and wait for others to adapt to your hearing loss. Don't assume that they know what those adaptations are or to what degree your hearing loss hinders your ability to interact. Don't get mad at them when they don't understand or don't change. Take the steps needed to make those adaptations yourself.
Don't try to hold a conversation while walking side-by-side. Make the other(s) stop walking and turn to face you when talking. Otherwise, tell them to hold their thoughts until you can get to a place where this is possible.
Become an "active listener." When someone says something to you, don't sit in silence...acknowledge it. A simple "yes" or "okay" or similar response assures the other person that you heard what they said. It's frustrating to the other person to say something to you and not know if you heard it or not. If they ask you, "Did you hear me?" don't get mad at them. They wouldn't ask if there wasn't a past history of you not hearing them.
Talk less, listen more. You may actually find that you can hear others better and follow what they're saying better, if you're not doing most of the talking.
Admit when you've not heard something, and ask that it be repeated. This is prevalent for folks who are just starting to experience some hearing loss. Don't smile, nod your head, or agree, unless you know what you're agreeing to.
When you ask to have something repeated and the other person dismisses what they said as unimportant, believe them, and just let it go. If it was important to you, they'll repeat it. Think about it...much of what you and I say all day is simply running commentary, talking to ourselves. Spending time with a hearing-impaired person requires frequent-enough repeated comments without adding all of the running dribble, as well.
Turn your head and face a person when they approach you. For example, if a waiter approaches your table, turn your head and look up at their face so that you can hear them. It's human nature to face the person seated with you at the table and to not look at the waiter, but I've witnessed much miscommunication in this scenario. This holds true for all situations in business and in public.
Position yourself so that you can hear the other person. Choose your seat carefully at a table in a restaurant. Move to directly in front of the maitre d' or store clerk. Lean in toward the other person, if necessary.
Don't be timid about admitting your handicap in public. If it helps you gain a better experience or enjoy what you want to do, who cares? Ask for a better seat at a theater or restaurant if you can't hear well. Tell others when you are in an environment that makes it hard for you to hear and tell them what they need to do to make it easier for you to hear them.
Wear your hearing aids. Both of them, if you wear two aids. Don't fake it. Don't take a "day off." Don't assume you won't need them. Don't turn them off or remove them because the noise level is too high for you. Yes, the world has become a very noisy place. Those of us who do not have hearing loss deal with it every day. You have lived in a muffled, muted world without your hearing aids and, by comparison, sounds may be harsh or sharp to you with the hearing aids on. But when you don't wear your aids, your friends or companions must now deal with the noise level and the fact that you cannot hear them talk to you. Shouting at you is not an option.
Don't yell; don't whisper. Learn to modulate your voice, even asking your companions to help you do this until you get it right. Hearing aids may magnify your own voice, causing you to speak too softly; or the hearing aids may mask your own voice, causing you to shout. Get it figured out.
Have your hearing checked regularly and the aids calibrated routinely. Hearing loss is progressive and can plateau for a while, then change suddenly. If you notice that you're having problems in situations that weren't problematic before, chances are good that it's time for a re-evaluation.