Day 73 - Pi Day

I'd like wish everyone a happy pi day.

In keeping with common custom, I spent my pi day watching season openers for Formula One and Indy Car and then attending my oldest daughter's Senior State Finals. I'm sure you did the same, so I won't bore you with the details.

Other than to say that my daughter swam like the wind like a dolphin the race of her life to help her 400 Free Relay team claim 5th. In the State. It. Was. Awesome.

It was a great day. Lots of good kid time.

Driving home from the meet, realizing I still needed to get a run in, and that I had a RedBox DVD sitting on the kitchen counter that wasn't going to put itself back into that dark slot, I knew I was in for my first night run of the year.

With Daylight Savings stealing an hour of precious sleep in exchange for pushing back the dark hour in the evenings for a few months (a fair trade in my book), you'd think it wouldn't be that dark. It was dark enough.

My irresponsible and unbelievably fun antics of yesterday didn't leave me crippled, surprisingly. I actually ran really well. Short, but quick-ish.

Run done. Water bill paid. The rest of the night's plans were to kick back with a Fat Tire and bask in the vicarious glory of my daughter's triumphant swim while watching the last two disks in the BBC series that has infested my Netflix queue.

Turns out the same pride inducing daughter lifted the next disk to watch at her mom's.

The same otherwise perfect girl with whom I've had to discuss respect for others and thinking of how her actions might affect others and the value of asking before you fudging take something that isn't yours.

How do they know? How did she know that her balance would be so high in the good column in the spreadsheet in my mind that such an act wouldn't drive me to hysterics? How can they so perfectly judge how much bad behavior they can get away with? She even lifted it BEFORE her swim! Did she stand in her room, weighing the likelihood of a great swim against how ticked I'd be when I found the disk gone?

I honestly think she did.

She knows better than to do something like that... especially on pi day.

Good running,
Doug

Numbers: 1.9 miles in mist on pavement. (Wish I'd been able to work in 3.14 miles.)

Day 72 - Photo Safari, with a Happy Ending

Thanks to the help of some very understanding parents of friends, and a necessary but undesirable amount of driving, the boys were well entertained today while I watched my daughter swim at Senior State.

With all of the driving to and driving fro to make this happen, I couldn't afford to be picky about when and where I ran.

The when turned out to be during warm-ups for finals, in the rain. The where was IUPUI.

Finding myself on such a beautiful scenic convenient college campus, I figured it was time for a photo safari.

Just in case the students forget where they are, these sculptures (?) of letters outside of the student center can help, if they arrange the them correctly. ("I'm at PUUII? Cool!")

There are several other bits of art scattered around the campus. This is a big rock ball thing cradled in a curved rock thing. At night, the ball thing is lit from within. Kinda creepy...

There's one of these. It is very twisty.

[Does that picture look a little blurry to you? It's not you. It's the rain drop. One that happened to land on the tiny lens of my iPhone camera. I tried keeping the camera inside a ziplock bag. Those things sure seem transparent. But try taking a picture through one. And they get slippery when wet. The phone I mean. Dropped it. Landed in a puddle. Cracked the screen. But it kept working.]

They've got one of these, too. Looks to me like a targeting aid for hitting the buildings downtown with one of those water balloon sling shots.

Here's one of these buy that guy. You know... the guy who uses lots of geometric shapes and bright colors and 2D figures that suddenly reveal themselves as 3D. There's one at the airport. Come on... you know... what's that guy's name... Oh look! Worms!!!

Worms were everywhere. I'm afraid I may have squished a few.... hundred. Didn't mean too. Honest. You couldn't drop a lawn jart without hitting seven.  Please don't tell the Buddhist admission board.

Headed toward the city and hopped on the canal. This really is a hidden treasure and a great place to run.

Many of the underpasses have murals on the walls. Good distraction from the goth teenagers with braces making out.

Here's the canal-side view of the Eiteljorg Museum, and the incongruous new hotel apparently sprouting from it's loins.

Also on the canal is the Medal of Honor Memorial, a seriously cool and inspiring and appropriate work. I was lucky enough to see a majority of living Medal of Honor recipients that the Indianapolis 500 a few years ago. Hard not to be moved in the company of such heroic humans.

I ran out of canal, and found myself back on campus.

This used to be the RCA tennis center. It also used to have clay courts. I also saw Christopher Cross and Hall & Oats in concert here with my high school girlfriend. She didn't want to take me. Her sister invited me anyway. The girl sulked through the concert and broke up with me shortly thereafter. I don't like Christopher Cross or Hall or Oats.

The gate to the track was open. For real this time. Imagine that, Crawfordsville.

This is no ordinary track. This is the sight of my most glorious glory days... the state track and field meet.

The stands were fuller. And I was a lot younger. A LOT younger. Still, just putting a foot on the track and I'm back in time.

I took a stride, then another, and before I knew it, I was arcing around the turn in lane 8. Down the back stretch and my legs felt young and light and springy and quick. The other turn and the front stretch and...

Well, looky here...

Yes, I did.

The first attempt was, uhm, not good.

The second wasn't pretty, but I made it through.

The third... man... just like old times.

And it felt fantastic!

I'm not at all embarrassed to admit that I did an involuntary Bruce Jenner after clearing the last hurdle. My smile was so big the corners of my mouth nearly met at the back of my head. It was one of the most exhilarating moments of my life. Seriously.

I'm going to be sore as hell tomorrow.

[Note:  Before Bruce Jenner was an embarrassment to all men on reality TV, and before he was an embarrassment to all men with his horrible nose job, he was an Olympic Decathlon Gold Medalist. I am not making that up. Look for yourself.]

Good running,
Doug

Numbers: 2.5 miles in the rain on streets, sidewalks, grassy hills, and track.

Day 71 - Doctor Visit

I'm still a little freaked out about what happened to Mike.

Even though it's probably irrational, I went to the doc today.

Trying to explain why I was there wasn't easy. "Ya see, this guy, super healthy guy, runner, like me, had a horrible stroke right after a run. That's not supposed to happen. Do something or say something to make it so I'm not scared shootless."

He sat me down on the paper-covered padded table deal, and whipped out that light thing. I said "Ahhh' for like 0.17 sec and he was on his way to the ears. He listened to my heart, my neck, and my lungs.

[Someday, just before going to the doc, I want to swallow a tiny, yet to be invented, digestively passable recorder and speaker and have it play AC/DC, or the sounds of a steel mill, or random swear words. How fun would that be?]

He looked at me... looked at my "chart", which is no longer a manila folder full of paper but now several neatly tabbed screens on a monitor, "Non-smoker, weight's good, blood pressure's great, not diabetic, exercise, no family history of heart disease, cholesterol under control... you're all good... take a baby aspirin a day. If you want, we can get you a heart scan just to make sure you aren't sportin' any blockages."

Gold stars for good behavior AND a procedure to make me feel like I'm actually measuring something. Sold!

[For those of you who may be questioning my use of our nation's health care resources just to put my irrational fears to rest, this is coming out of my pocket, not hitting insurance.]

Probably as a form of punishment for taking an appointment that could have been used by someone with a non-panic-based illness, he used the opportunity to have a nurse work me over with a needle. A little in, a little out. Tetanus booster (Now with Whooping Cough!) and my annual blood labs to make sure my LDLs and HDLs are playing nice.

I know I went there out of irrational fear. I know that if I were in Canada I would have had to wait weeks for such a pointless appointment (which maybe wouldn't be a bad thing). I know that even if the scan comes back clean as a whistle, I could drop dead at any moment.

Still, it does feel good to have had someone else look under the hood, kick the tires, and declare the car sound enough to drive across the country... as far as he can tell.

Good running,
Doug

Numbers: 4.3 on pavement, well before the rain came.

Day 70 - Trail Bobbing

I need to get something off of my chest...

People who play live trivia and use their Blackberry to Google the answers are big fat cheaters. They sit back in the corner hiding their hand-held cheat boxes and have the nerve to "woohoo!" when their name is called as the leaders EVERY ROUND. And "Booo" to the trivia-givers who not only turned a blind eye to the cheaters, but also didn't bring me back my $15 in change.

But kudos to the pub for the free Guinness glasses.

Ok... now, back to business.

Almost....

My towel for the day is pink. Used to be white. I'm not very good at laundry.

Ok, now...

Ran on the trails by work with Bob this afternoon. The trails were in perfect condition... muddy, but mud that cushioned without any real slippage. And nary a puddle in sight. Just what the running doctor ordered for my healing foot and Bob's case of shin splints.

It was cool showing Bob the "Piddly Run-off". Again today it was not at all piddly, but we didn't care because we were running the trails, not the wimpy little pond loop.

We chatted about running and work and women and life for two circuits of the trail. We saw the river and a wheel and another fisherman, and I damn near went down when my foot snagged a vine that was up to no good.

Bob even got to cross The Gorge:

These trails are usually my refuge. They're where I go when I need to hide from work. It's where I go when I want to be alone with my thoughts and my breath and the trees and the dirt.

Today, it was good to have Bob there, too.

Good Running,
Doug

Numbers: 3.4 miles of trails.

Day 69 - Dentist and Snow Melt

What's one good thing about going to the dentist?

Yeah, I couldn't come up with anything either.

Had to have two fillings replaced this morning and now that the novacaine has worn off my mouth hurts like a mother. Not surprising considering I spent an hour with one person or another's hands in my mouth... sometimes both. Oh, and the 70-odd times I bit the inside of my cheek without knowing it, yeah, that cheek's like hamburger now.

Worse yet, the torture visit cost me a big chunk of my morning, so I was under the schedule gun. That meant that, despite my much improved ped, I would have to settle for a short run.

Off to the pond loop!

The "piddly run-off" was anything but piddly. Doesn't look like much in the picture, but it's easily ankle deep and cold as a door knob on Hoth. Warm temps mean melting and that water's gotta go somewhere. 

It used to go here..

under the bridge to the river, but obviously that's not an option right now, thanks to the big crane and mounded earth and rock wall that keep the big crane all dry. Instead it backs up in the ditch and the "not so piddly run-off".

So, of course, I turned back and cut my run short.

Wait... you bought that? How long have we been doing this? 69 days! YOU DON"T EVEN KNOW ME!

Sorry... it's cool... uh...ahem... no, I didn't turn back. I only had a few minutes for my escape from the everyday and I was not about to let a little water hold me back...

Colder than I thought... and deeper too. Looked about ankle deep... more like mid-calf.

Tricky part was the slippery bottom. One misstep and the ol' iPhone goes ploop.

Actually, the crossing was invigorating. Feeling the cold water flow over my feet was refreshing and awakening. The rest of the way in, my pace was much quicker and I felt great.

When your path comes to an unexpected obstacle, don't look at it as an impediment, but as an opportunity. The unexpected is what makes life fun and interesting.

Be open to the possibility that the stream across your path might be just the thing for a tender left foot and some smelly shoes.

Or maybe just drop a line in the water, relax, and see what happens...

Good running,

Doug

Numbers: 1.4 miles, schedule pressured short run.

Day 68 - Shorts

There's a magic number for runners in the Midwest: 60.

As in degrees F.

Sure we like it in the 40s when we're racing, but that's after training all summer in the heat and humidity.

After a winter of cold, windy, snowy runs, 60F is the calling card of spring.

To celebrate, I broke out the shorts.

I'm old school, when it comes to my running gear. I like it light, unobtrusive, and, well there's really no way to say this except that I'd like to forget it's there.

That means, boys and girls, that my running shorts are a little short for today's fashion. Think Larry Bird.

Here, I'll help.

At the time, these shorts seemed totally normal. Larry Bird was cool, and, to some, not unattractive. Even in his shorty-short-short shorts.

Put their relevance to current fashion aside. These shorts are just better for moving around. Much better than the coolots that basketball players wear today. How do they move up and down the court with what is more-or-less a large tablecloth or small tent hanging from their waist?

Can you imagine trying to run in these? All I can think of is the "flap flap flap flap" that must be going on as all that fabric gets thrown around. I bet one good gust could pick you up and drop you in Kansas.

My shorts are short enough to get me ridiculed from passing cars. My kids are mortified when they realize that I go out, in public, in my running shorts. Still, I'd rather be smugly defiant than suffer the chafing that 3 yards of fabric can dish out on unsuspecting inner thighs.

Note: I broke out the short shorts on an overcast day. Figured it wasn't fair to unleash my whiter-than-white legs on any spy or weather satellites that might be passing overhead. Wouldn't want to fry their imaging processors.

Good running,
Doug

Numbers: 2.6 miles on grass. Ground was very soft, like running on a mattress... a mattress that has the occasional really damp spot. Ewwwww...

Day 67 - Patience

Patience is a virtue.

That;s one of 3 things I learned as a wee lad in Sunday School that stuck with me.

The second was that the white wafers were NOT a snack.

The third was that Mary was a virgin. Didn't learn what a virgin was until middle school.

Which is a might better than I did with "virtue." Looked that up last night. Dictionary.com. Try it yourself.

Quite a few odd definitions... including "chastity; virginity (See Mary)".

The one that seems to apply here is: "a good or admirable quality or property" which is definition #5. Seems a bit under-rated, don't you think?

I've been trying to renew my own store of patience lately. Noticed it was running a bit low when I was screaming at the car in front of me "3 on a yellow! 3 ON A YELLOW!!!"

The pedal-to-the-metal society we've built ourselves and bought into doesn't reward patience. If anything, it exploits it.

My assignment for the weekend was to be patient throughout the swim meet sessions.

These tend to be long, noisy, hot, humid, and 98% of the time your kid isn't swimming.

I did ok. I'd give myself a solid B. B+ maybe. I didn't make too big of a deal out of how slow they were to get the awards going. And I didn't say a single word to the swim mom sitting behind me who insisted on screaming at her swimmer at the top of her lungs until blood was trickling from my ears down my neck. Never mind that little Emma can't hear you because she's, you know, swimming... under the water. Funniest part was that she didn't say a peep before the race, or after when Emma might have actually been able to hear her.

Patience isn't something to be taught. You can't tell someone to be patient. You can remind them to be patient, but that assumes they already know patience. Being patient takes presence of mind and an awareness that we aren't in control of anything except how we react to the world, and how we react will affect those around us. It also requires an understanding that we don't know what is driving anyone else, or how our actions might affect them.

I could have turned around and asked Emma's mom to turn herself down, but to what end? Ok, maybe I'd be able to shake this lingering tinnitus. But who knows, maybe she was having a bad day or week or month and yelling for Emma helped her vent. Or maybe she was hard of hearing and didn't know how loud she was. Or maybe she wanted so desperately for Emma to do well that she was going to try to push her along with (what I can attest to were some really powerful) sounds waves blasting out of her pie-hole. If Emma, without her sonic boost, had missed the state cut time, perhaps I'd be to blame.

Patience rewards the person practicing it with a sense of calm and acceptance. It also rewards those with or around the person with the same sense of calm, and sometimes that's a gift.

Next time you feel like screaming through your windshield at the idiot in front of you, take a breath, realize that it's not going to help anything and it's not going to make you feel any better. Try instead to send them a wish for peace, happiness, and a safe journey. Or maybe wish that a gift certificate for driving school magically finds its way to their mailbox.

Either way...

Good running,
Doug

Numbers: 1.3 miles before yoga class on grass. Foot feeling little better.