Day 313 - Carl Sagan Smoked Pot

Am I the last person on Earth to know this?

Aside from the people who don't know who Carl Sagan is because they are too young.

Or not nerdy enough to have been watching his amazing Cosmos series on PBS in 1980.

That TV series was defibrillator to my brain.

To my parent's credit, they would turn over the TV to me on Cosmos nights. I would spread out on the kitchen floor (why the best TV was in the kitchen is a whole blog post in itself), and stare at the screen, in sponge mode, trying to soak it all in.

And it worked. I can trace my interest in science, math, and the origin of the universe directly to these evenings on the kitchen floor.

I used to think that if I ever ran into Prof. Sagan, he'd take to me immediately, tousle my hair in a manner that was in no way creepy, seeing that we shared the excitement and enthusiasm for seeking truth that is out there, just waiting to be discovered. I thought of Carl Sagan as the uncle I never had.

My actual uncle was a brilliant miscreant. He was kicked out of the best schools in the country. He was a hippy way after hippies were cool. And, he smoked a lot of pot.

Turns out, so did Carl.*

I'm glad I didn't know that in 1980. I was bummed when I found out the Beatles did drugs. But, they were musicians, and  I didn't see myself as one day being a Beatle. I did want to be the next Carl Sagan, though, and it would have been heartbreaking to find out, when I was a violently naive 15 year old, that he was a pot smoker.

Now, though, I'm ok with it. And it helps to make sense of how enthralled he was with those images from Hubble.

Just look at the billions and billions of galaxies,

each with billions and billions

of (Pfffffffffff...Pfffff.... cough...Poooooooo) staarrrrs, man. Wild, right?

Today would have been Carl's 76th birthday.

My dear imaginary uncle Carl was a wonderful teacher, able to explain complex concepts, simply, clearly, and in an captivating way. He was also a consummate scientist, seeker of truth, and skeptic, having famously said "Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence". There was no bullshitting Carl Sagan.

He also wore a turtlenecks. A little too often.

If you don't know Carl Sagan, or you've forgotten him, or you'd like to revisit him, check out this video on the number googol, and this one on black holes.

Oh, and I had a great run today.

Good running,
Doug

*My uncle also did a lot of LSD. Not sure about Carl, but I'd guess not.

Numbers: 3.3 miles, with the dog, who also loves Carl Sagan, especially his lesser known series Squirrels: Scourge of the Cosmos.

Day 312 - Both Feet

There are some days that just suck. I had one of those today.

Nothing tragic. Just crappy.

The key to turning the tide on a crappy day is turning all of that negative mojo around. Put that energy toward good instead of evil. Bury yourself in something you love.

For me, that meant hauling ass... on foot.

I was restricted to a mini-run, thanks to my tender heels. But, I made the most of it.

I saddled up the dog and we took off at the gun at a good clip. At the turn-around, we were on a respectable time. My legs were fresh, and I was pissed at the world, so I dropped the hammer.

We ran by a group of middle schoolers (up to no good, I'm sure). I expected the usual chuckles at the old dude in funny shoes and shorty-short shorts. But today, I heard one of them say "That guy's really movin'. I hope his dog can keep up."

My goal was to take at least a minute off of the outbound leg time. Ended up taking off almost 2.

At the finish, I didn't feel old. I didn't feel fat. I didn't feel a single creek or twinge. I didn't even remember why the day had sucked.

For a few seconds, I felt like a god.

Don't be afraid to pour yourself into your passion. It's called your "passion" for a reason.

Jump in. Both feet. Wild abandon.

Good running,
Doug

Numbers: 1.4 miles

Reward: 2 Below, the very yummy Winter Ale by my buds at New Belgium... People who know how to follow their folly.

Day 311 - Late Questions

Dudes, I screwed up.

I'd neglected the new dougrun365@gmail.com inbox. Turns out, there were a couple questions in there, waiting patiently, since Thursday.

First, from Patrick:

Patrick: What’s your stance on weightlifting for runners?
Me: My stance is usually with feet firmly planted, about shoulder width apart.
Patrick: That wasn't funny. I meant what do you think about weights? Upper body only or both upper and lower?
Me: My current plan is no weight lifting. That's working really well, in the I-hate-lifting-weights way. In the strength and overall durability way, it's not cutting it, surprisingly. When I am lifting weights, or any kind of strength work, I start with core. Core is called core for a reason. It's the most important. Abs, lower back, glutes, whatever those muscles on our sides are called. Lower body, I need to do abductors and adductors. They're muscles that aren't strengthened much by running, but critical for balance. Then I do upper body, high reps, low weight. All of this I do once a week, in my rainbows and 6-pack abs fantasy world.
Patrick: Uh, thanks. I think.

Sure thing P-Diddy. Next up, a new comer to the DR265 community, Kathy:

Kathy: As a veteran traveling runner, how do you deal with the long drive/flight home after an out of town race?
Me: Poorly.
Kathy: Oh. (uncomfortably long pause.) Ok, let's pretend that you deal with it well. How would you do it?
Me: Ok, this'll be fun.
First choice, don't rush home. Stay as long as you can. See the city. Walking around is great for post-race legs. After my last visit to the fantastic New York City Marathon, I stayed an extra 3 days. Sure, it nearly bankrupted me, but it was a blast. Wear a running jacket, and you'll be surprised how many complete strangers will treat you like a hero, ask how your race went, and beg to show off their city to you. Some of them will be hitting on you, but some will be sincere. Either way...
If you can't stay, the secret is to not sit still. When flying, get on the plane as late as you can. As soon as the Fasten Seatbelts sign goes out, walk about. Head to the galley in the back. There's usually enough room to stretch a bit.
If you're traveling by car, try to get someone else to drive. You can fidget and stretch the whole way. Unless, like me on the way home from the Philadelphia Marathon, you sleep for 4 hours.
If you're driving, stop every 90 minutes or so, even if just for a couple minutes, to get out and stretch your legs. After driving back from the Sunburst Marathon in South Bend, I bet I stopped 5 or 6 times. The best stop was at a Dog 'n' Suds for the best tasting chili-cheese dog and root beer, ever. Ever!
Most important, regardless of your means of travel, drink lots of water and electrolyte replacements. You need to rehydrate your bod, and it will help fend off any of those sneaky cramps.
Kathy: That was a really long answer. My hamstrings have cramped since I started reading it.
Me: Bummer. Drink more water.

Thanks for the questions guys. Apologies for missing them.

Speaking of New York City Marathon, the greatest foot race in the world, it was today. I can't stress enough... if you ever have a chance to run New York... Do it. It will change how you think of yourself, running, New York, and the human race.

Good running,
Doug

Numbers: 1.4 miles, without the dog, in a hurry to get back to watching Harry Potter movies with my progeny.

Day 310 - Ill-Defined Success

Here's a sign in the elementary school gym where my youngest plays basketball.

Can you read that nifty slogan?

It says "Success is getting up just one more time than you fall down."

I don't call that success. I call that bad counting.

You start doing something. You fall down. You get up. You fall down. You get up. You stop falling down. Success!

You don't get up... one more time. You can't get up more times than you fall down.

Ok, I suppose you could argue the case that if you start your activity on the ground, you have to "get up" to start, but there aren't that many activities you start on your ass. Besides, the point of the poster is to point out that when you do fall, you need to get back up.

And that's not really even success. It's determination.

For example... Running every day for a year is not success. It's a shit-load of determination, though. And a dump truck full of stupidity. But not success.

The success is in using the running as a means to reconnect with myself and to become the person I want to be. Who I used to be. When I feel that, I will declare success... with a big "Mission Accomplished" banner.

In the mean time, I think I'm going to print up an edit that says "the same number of times that", sneak in before the games start, and tape it over that embarrassment.

Good running,
Doug

Numbers: 3.1 miles on streets.

Day 309 - Kid questions

Absent any pings from the outside world, and needing to close out the week of questions with, you know, questions, I have resorted to polling my offspring.

Not my actual children.

The Duke: Do you like running in the dark?
Me: Yes, I do. Running in the dark is peaceful. It's easier to tune out the world and pay attention to what's going on inside. However, I tend to run slower at night. It feels like I'm going fast, but I'm actually going slower. Weird, huh? I think it has something to do with not being able to see exactly where my feet hit.

The Teenage Daughter: I don't care.

Me: Alrighty...

Middle One: Why are you a nut job?
Me: It's hereditary. Sorry.

So endeth the week of questions. Thanks to those who helped out. Even though the week's over, feel free to send questions/comments/complaints/donations my way.

Good running,
Doug

Numbers: 1.7 miles squeezed in between work and fetching these adorable little monsters.

Day 308 - Nora and Ali

We have contact from the outside world!

First, from my favorite writer/music critic/bartender Nora:

Nora: How did the whole fountain fetish, um, fountain fascination thing start?
Me: Hi Nora! Great question. Since the dawn of time man has been drawn to water, to return to that from which his primordial ancestors first emerged, crawling on their flippers, hopefully wearing sunblock.

Nora (in my imagination): No, dumbass... your fountain fetish.
Me: Oh, ok. That makes more sense... After a Polkaboy show in the summer of 2006, I was newly single. I mustered up the nerve to ask out a girl I'd been mega-crushing on for months. She said "Not right now." I had no idea what that meant. Befuddled, and needing to walk off my German beer buzz, my sister, pseudo-sister-in-law, and I walked around downtown and ended up sitting across from The Veterans Memorial, discussing how foolish she was to pass up a "Golden Ticket". I don't remember who's idea it was, but my sister and I both defiled the fountain, which was surprisingly deep and very slippery. Somewhere there are pictures of the two of us standing by the obelisk.


Nora (again, I'm making this part up): But... why? Why fountains?
Me: I'm not sure... I think it has something to do with crossing an invisible barrier, breaking a rule that everyone follows just because everyone follows it, and doing it in a totally harmless manner. Standing in a fountain, especially when it's fountaining, is an exhilarating experience, and it bums me out that everyone else is missing out on it. Try it sometime, but only if you can see the bottom. :-)
[Note the link to a map of all of the fountains I've defiled over there on the right, under "Links to useless crap".]

And now some great questions from Ali, who hangs out at the world's best running store, and could almost certainly run me into the ground:

Ali: What's your favorite and least favorite thing(s) about running in FiveFingers?
Me: Favorite is easy... changing to minimalist running saved my running career. It changed my gate, my strike, and my posture. Before going minimalist, I was pretty beaten up. If I ran on Monday, I couldn't run again until Friday, because my lower back would be toast. Now, as we all are painfully aware by now, I run every day.
As for the Vibram Five Fingers (VFFs) in particular, the ground feel is excellent. It might look silly, but having my toes free to move independently keeps me in touch with the ground and helps me run more efficiently.
Least favorite, also easy, and two winners - they smell to high heaven. I sweat a lot when I run, and thanks to gravity, a lot of it ends up in my shoes. You can wash VFFs, but sooner or later, they will smell... awful. I still have my first pair. 500 miles on them and they'd go another 500, if they didn't smell like Oscar the Grouch's butt. Second least favorite, when I stub my toe, it hurts like a mutha.

Ali: Do you think your dog will notice when you come to the end of your streak?
Me: Depends, is there a squirrel, or a chipmunk, or anything that sounds remotely like a squirrel or chipmunk anywhere remotely close? If so, then no, because in that case she wouldn't notice me shaving her. If not, then I think she will. I don't run with her every day, but we do run a lot. With the streak going on, I've been pretty conservative with my runs, keeping them short-ish, and I haven't done any speed work to speak of. I expect that she'll notice the runs getting longer and faster next year.

Ali: Where is the hands-down best place you've ever run?
Me: Wow, very hard question. I've been thinking about this one since I peeked at Facebook earlier today. I'm going to award a few categories:
Best local spot is Fort Benjamin Harrison. Eagle Creek is fantastic, but I spent a few years running at Fort Ben almost every day and I have so many fond memories. Plus, I know the place like the back of my hand. Some of my favorite sections of trail have been "Easy-ified" a bit with stairs and decking, but I still love it.
Best city to run in goes to Washington DC. I haven't been there for years, but there are so many fantastic places to run, and so much to see. Second is San Francisco.

Best of Show: The Low-Gap Trail. I've only run it a couple times, but I've never felt so alive and so much a part of nature. It's rugged. It's difficult. The blazes are confusing. It's wonderful. (Here are some pix posted to Flickr from a run where I got lost, with commentary.) Runner-up goes to Red Rock Canyon outside of Las Vegas.

Thanks for the great questions, ladies!

Hey readers, feel free to share your favorite places to run in the whole wide world, right down there, in the comments... anonymous is ok... really... or better yet, send in some more great questions.

Good running,
Doug

Numbers: 1.4 miles - One more day of precautionary post-stretch session rest-mile.

Day 307 - Fido Fall

Ok, let me check the ol' question inbox, here... comments... none. Facebook... nothing, though I'm really glad everyone let me know how they voted. Emails to dougrun365@gmail.com... Chinese Viagra... Blockbuster franchise for sale...Forward this to 10 people or you'll die at the hands of a Nigerian prince... all junk.

It really is more fun when we all play together.

Even the bloke from London managed to get some questions in, and he has to spend all of his spare time standing in line waiting for that horrible socialist health care they have over there. And making bangers and mash.

Since the inbox is empty, I'll have to resort to something inane. Here goes...

Can dogs trip?

My mutt has traveled the same rooty trails and the same jumbled sidewalks, and I've never seen her even stumble. Sure, I've seen a dog get tripped, like by another dog, swooping a leg in and taking them down. But I'm talking about the dufus stub-your-toe-and-go-down kind of trip.

Tonight, for example... It was dark. I was wearing my headlamp. Hey! I mean it! No laughing at the blogger. Don't make me come back there... Where was I... I had my eyes riveted on a particularly treacherous stretch of sidewalk, scanning for those jutting wedges of concrete that try to grab my toes.

The dog? Was she looking down? She wasn't even looking forward! She was mesmerized by something, something that was at 90 degrees from our heading.

Google "Can dogs trip?" and you get this: Can dogs trip on mushrooms? And no, they don't mean the kind of trip I'm asking about. Apparently I'm the only one wondering this.

Maybe it's their built-in 4-wheel drive. Maybe it's the way they flop their feet. Maybe their claws act like whiskers and give them warning if they are too close to an obstacle.

All the thinking about tripping gave me pause (not paws) as I approached the trailhead. I decided not to tempt fate. I skipped the trail tonight and did a lap around the nice, flat, smooth, even track.

Good running,
Doug

Numbers: 1.3 miles, rest-mile day after an intense AIS session this morning. Thanks Kathy!