Whaddya know...

Things seem to be turning a corner, in a positive way. The last couple of weeks, and probably not coincidentally since I've started riding, my training has picked up in quality. Tonight I ran 10 miles under 75 minutes. This is much faster than I've run in some time. The first 5 went in 34:15, and really wasn't too much of a push. There's hope after all!

Speaking of hope, or better still hopeless, the weather forecast for the next couple of days looks pretty bad. Temp in the 30's, steady rain, wind steady at 35 mph with gust of up to 50 mph? This is exactly why I have a gym membership. I hope to get out to run, but there is no hope for an outside ride for the rest of the week.

School is almost over for Christmas break... if it wasn't for the whole Mayan thing, I'd be looking forward to it. I don't want to get my hopes up just to have them crushed... ;)

Looking forward, the next planned run is Saturday, 8 AM at Parkview. Distance is up to 10 miles.

A load of splinters

Used to be I knew where I stood in the world. I had the same friends, ran with them every day, and eventually our routines became so intertwined it was difficult to tell one from another.

Then came Strunk.

And Allen.

And Galloway.

And a whole host of other rebels who find ways to fracture and fragment our happy collection of athletes into ever smaller and more diverse clusters of exercise opportunity. Ah! Vive la difference!

Allen, Strunk, and I ran only 5 tonight, but it was much earlier than the regular Parkview Pack (tm). It was out of necessity I betrayed the stalwart regulars - Erin had a swim meet tonight. It was either early or not at all, and being the strictly mercenary athlete that I am, I went for it.

We had a rolling discussion of various topics. I was shy about my opinions of course, but with a little coaxing, Allen and Strunk were able to coerce me to share my views. It was cathartic to say the least.

Basically it eventually boiled down to whether or not there is more or less evil in the world than before. We also talked about the Mayan foolishness coming to an end. My standby remark is the religious should know better because "only the Father knows the time and the day". The very fact everyone is pointing to Friday is reason enough to know it isn't Friday.

"Maybe he'll come Thursday", says Strunk.

Damn. I wish I'd thought of that one.

Hey! I composed some free-form poetry today for my students. Wanna hear (er, read) it? Here goes!

*Ahem*

Axe Wearers
Oh, wearers of axe,
Offenders of olfactory senses,
How your frustration must wax,
No girls break down your fences.

You laid it on thick,
A green cloud about your head,
Yet no chasing mob of chicks,
Like zombies in "Walking Dead".

So here's great advice,
Don't do as you did before.
If it isn't "Old Spice",
I say, "Less is more".

Another good day

I wish I could say that with complete honesty. This splitting headache makes that impossible. I'm assuming this outdoor riding has given me a sinus infection, thus the headache. Hopefully it'll be worth it down the road.

("Down the road"... get it?)

Got a good lift and run tonight. No, really! Despite the headache, I went for the lift. My head was splitting the whole time, and I didn't know if I really wanted to go for the run. I suspected that once the run started and my nose started running, the pressure would subside. Only one way to find out.

First few steps out the door and I knew the run would be just fine. I felt good, in the hips, in the legs... I can feel the strength beginning to return. I forget how important riding is to my ability to run. I was able to hold nearly a 7-flat pace for the first 3 miles, something I haven't done in a good long while. There wasn't any push to it either, it was simply there.

The next 5 with the guys went just as well. Wes and I broke off the front and had a rambling discussion of whatnot. We wore the others guys out with it, so I suppose we didn't break away as much as they let us go. I can still say I ran 8 right on one hour, or 7:30 pace overall. That's a good run.

Tomorrow Erin has a swim meet. I will try to pick up with Strunk and Allen at 3:50 at Parkview. I know Allen will be there... will Strunk?

Christmas parties and training

The Gillespies were kind enough to open their home to us last night, and it was a great night of fellowship and food. I didn't win any of the prizes, but it was okay; Leisa did. We can share.

This morning started off early if not bright. Dan was supposed to meet me at Parkview. His text warned me he would not make it, so I started the early portion alone. Three miles before the group, alone, in the dark. I soldiered on.

The rest of the gang showed at 8 AM, and we headed out for another 5. A few of us broke off the front early, and in the end it was Miller and myself. We chatted about training and such. Near the end of the run, as we pulled onto Brian Lane Way, we could see two figures closing behind us. Michael and Bartlett we trying to catch us by the end. My cruel calls to Michael to "work for it" produced a final spurt, though it fell short.

I had considered running a couple more, but my hip got markedly more painful toward the end of the run. Since we were going to ride in the afternoon, I passed. I think it was the right call.

Allen, Roy, and I met at Allen's church in Mitchell at 2. The plan was to head to Huck's and then return. It was not exactly warm, there was a slight breeze from the southwest, and the sky was overcast, even threatening rain. We were not to be deterred.

It wasn't a fast ride. Who cares? It is December 16th, and we were riding outdoors! We stopped at Huck's for the obligatory drink (I bypassed the candy bar), and we headed home.

This is a pretty good start to the next riding season - several outdoor rides already!

Wow

*Disclaimer: gun enthusiasts may want to stop reading here.

It's been a long time since news bothered me like this. I clearly remember when I heard about 9/11. I remember Columbine. I remember Oklahoma City. This one bothers me more.

The whole thing became clear to me at the gym. The TV was on, a couple of guys were watching the report, then the first thing that came out of a guy's mouth went something like this:

"Well, now they'll come after my guns."
"Yeah, you know Obama has just been waiting for a chance."
"Yeah! He sent 90,000 rounds of ammunition to Egypt, and look what that got us."
"Ted Nugent for president! At least he won't take our guns!"

Wow. Just... wow.

My step-father was a gun dealer. I own guns. I've been around them and people who love them all my life. I know the culture, I totally get it. This one conversation finally crystallized something that gnawed at me about many gun enthusiasts for some time. Far too many value owning guns more than anything else. I wish this type of conversation was in isolation, that I'd never heard this type of talk before. Sadly, it isn't, and it isn't.

More than that, the frank callousness, the total lack of empathy, was chilling. This man was more worried about his guns than 20 dead kids. Think about that. Where was his soul?

Maybe I'm overreacting here. There are certainly reasons I might. I spent 17 years in a school such as this one. I've dealt with this age group for most of my life. I can guess that a few of those adults killed today gave their lives trying to protect those kids. My heart is broken. What does it take before we finally admit we've paid too high a price?

Personal liberties should not be given up lightly. Amen! But how many high profile shootings have happened in the last two weeks? It's funny, because there was a discussion on the run the other night on this very topic, which I started partially in jest. Ironic. We disagree wildly within our group, and that's okay. However, let me state categorically my position on the issue, lest there be doubt.

Enough is enough. No one needs a personal assault rifle, period. Nor do they need the larger clips, etc., etc. I'm not against hunters or hunting; Guns designed to kill people (specifically) have no purpose in the hands of private citizens. We have to have the courage to look the issue directly and deal with it. 

Loading up

Last night was a busy athletic night - for me for a change. For the last few months athletics have been more about others, either my team or Erin, and my return to fitness has been slow coming. The ice may be cracking, if last night is any evidence.

I left work, the sun shone bright, and I considered what next. My original plan for the day was to lift, run early, run with the group, then go back to the club and spin. That would give me more miles, but it would spread the workout over several hours. Hmmm.

Once again I considered the weather. I didn't see my breath while outside. I checked my weather app, and it said 47 degrees. Wind was light, and there was no bite to it. Daylight was the main issue. Could I sneak in 20 miles? If so, it would be worth giving up 3 miles of running - the qualitative difference between spinning and actual road riding is significant, I think, enough to be roughly equivalent overall workouts. And let's face it; any time you can get out on the road in December is time well spent indeed. 

It would be the ride!

It was cold enough to put on the boots and thicker gloves. One long-sleeve IronBill issue tight-tight shirt, NorthFace knockoff jacket, long tights over biking shorts, and it was time to roll. I wondered if passing on the head gear would be a mistake, but the temperature was borderline. 

The ride went quickly. I'm not trying to push on the bike - for cryin' out loud, it's December after all - I just wanted to keep the legs turning over. The slight southeast wind only barely affected my pace. The wind was so slight that if I had any fitness at all I wouldn't have noticed it. 

Daylight was waning enough I felt riding home on the highway was the better option. It gets dark shortly after 5 now, and I would be pushing that number by the time I got back to Bedford. While I had purposely avoided riding aero on the way to Mitchell, on the way back I folded over and got smooth. The speed immediately shot up, and I carried the highway leg 23-25 mph average. I'll take that this early!

Climbing sure isn't fun. There aren't many hills on this course, but I felt them all. Not in the "omigosh-I'm-dying" sort of way, more like "I can't believe how slow I'm going" way. That's the difference between indoor and outdoor riding to me - quad strength. My overall turnover actually improves after riding inside, but my quad strength declines. I will have to lift to compensate if I'm forced indoors too much this winter.

I passed Bartlett on the way back home. That meant the run was close to starting. I hoped to be able to sneak in a couple of miles before the group started, but alas, a little home confusion thwarted that plan. I was getting hungry too, and since I planned to go to the lift right after the run, it was time to grab some fuel. 

The options were slim - our grocery stock is low right now. Salvation came in the form of a teriyaki-flavored beef jerky stick. I grabbed it, ripped it open, then headed out the door, slow jog and fast chewing. It had the desired effect, both on my stomach and the faces of the group when I ran up eating it. 

We did our five with little incident. My hands were a bit cold at first (I'd grabbed the jerky instead of gloves), but they warmed soon enough. The run concluded, it was time to lift. 

I've pulled this triple before, and I was sure glad I'd hit the jerky. A workout of over 2 hours is no small thing for me right now, and putting the strength training on the end of it makes it a real challenge. See, as a weightlifter you get used to hitting certain numbers, but on weight and reps. Additionally, any serious lifter I ever met is pretty Type A about those numbers. Consistency makes great lifters, but it can also get them hurt. Trying to do the regular routine when physically depleted is an easy way to get cramps or a serious muscle pull. Never mind you might not hit your numbers... you might hurt yourself enough to miss workouts or workout elements for the next few sessions. The struggle is to push as hard as possible without pushing over the line. Take it to the point you can feel the cramps almost coming on, letting up right at the line.

The jerky gave me just enough energy to get the job done. It's not like I'm trying to get really big, that would be very much counter to being a good triathlete, though I don't mind a little size if it helps me feel better and helps my swimming. I'll have to be careful about body weight during competition season. I expect I'll have to settle for an additional 5-10 lbs. over what I would usually see. It will make the run slower, but it might make the swim/bike faster. The trade off might be worth it.

Today: run with Galloway and Strunk, Parkview 3:50?

Home stretch

The semester draws to a close, classes are ending, and yes, the long-held tradition of losing the will to live (academically) is alive and well amongst my students. I'm the tall guy standing in front of the room who makes noise until the bell rings and they can leave. It's temporary, but oh, I hate it when they get to this point. It seems a bit worse than normal this time, too.

I stepped on a scale, more to shock myself back to reality than to hope for loss. I was surprised that it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It was 5-10 lbs. better than I feared. Huh. Don't know how that happened.

My mileage is creeping up. Slowly, very slowly, it's building. However, the important thing is total time exercising is going up quickly. If you add in the spinning and weight lifting, I'm putting more and more time in.

The path going forward is clear; cut out the sweets. But it's Christmas! How do I do that?! ;)

Tonight I will run, lift, and maybe spin. 

Erratic, but here

The posting has become somewhat erratic, as most things in my life right now, but I'm still here. It's hard to set this as a priority right now. A lot of stuff happens, not all of it appropriate for print, so I set this chore aside.

This blog is mostly about training and those I train with, and with that, there isn't a great deal to put down. It generally goes, "Blah blah hips blah blah blah sore blah blah blah too fat". That's not very interesting in the grand scheme of things.

Philosophically, I suppose I'm struggling with the rapid decline of my athleticism. I don't find myself thinking about racing anymore, I think about participating in events. I don't think about how well I can do, I think about who else will be there to do it with me.

There is nothing wrong with that mindset in most cases. It's hard to imagine how one could fully enjoy any of this without like-minded friends to share the experience. On a personal level, the danger is more insidious. With no clear athletic purpose (other than to finish), there is no reason to train hard. With no hard training, the athleticism declines even more rapidly. It's a downward spiral to pointlessness.

Can the carrot of health benefit be enough to carry the day? Yes and no for me. I will always train somewhat, but hard enough to be even a mere shadow of my once "less-than-magnificent" self? Probably not.

What I've typically done when in this bind before is find another way to approach the problem. When I couldn't run 5ks anymore, I focused on marathons. Then triathlons. Then the cycling portion specifically. The problem is the options are narrowing sharply. Eventually, there will be no carrot.

The bright spots currently are lifting and cycling. That lifting could even figure into the picture is a testament of my desperation. Still, if it somehow gives me a path to better athleticism, I'm going for it. As for cycling, I was never better than last year. I'm hoping to do as well next year, but being a year older and on the wrong side of the downslide will make that a tall order.

I suppose God provided an avenue to continue to enjoy endurance athletics, if only vicariously. I'm so glad to be coaching again! 

A couple of rides, and the preseason begins

December is the start of riding preseason. It may be hard to get outside much, but that doesn't excuse us from trying to get some riding done. This week, I've managed to do both.

Wednesday afternoon was nice enough to get out to ride, and I put in 20 down to Mitchell and back. Couple that with a nice run and a lift, and the brick workouts have already begun.

Today was a mini brick - sorta. I lifted, then jumped on the trainer (at the gym, no break) rode 40 minutes. It's nowhere near enough but enough for now, the first week. I'll have to find a way to balance the workout schedule and swim schedule, and then a true rhythm of the week will develop. Then it will be easier to build the mileage.

The cross-country banquet was last night, and with that the season is officially complete. I'll still need to start contacting the girls with regards to their training through the winter, and I will soon do that. I've been waiting to see what Kathy will commit to (Spring Mill training). Time is running out though. I will proceed with something in the very near future, one way or another.

Tomorrow there will be a small group (at least) at Parkview, 8 AM. 

Closure

Part Seven in the Tribute to Norm Series

Closure
If there is anything in this life that is certain, it's that life does have an end. Our time on this planet is limited, there is nothing that can be done about that beyond perhaps delaying the inevitable. When it's all said and done, we all pass on.

What's really important then is how we spend that time. In Matthew 25:14-30 Jesus spoke of gifts, spiritual and otherwise, and gave examples of how people choose to use them. In his examples, Jesus illustrated how there are some that do practically nothing with the gifts they have, those that do some good, then some who accomplish great things. The passage closes with the comment (depending on your version of the Bible): "To those that have much, more will be given. To those that have little, even that will be taken away."

What does it mean? God formed you specifically to accomplish His work. The more willing you are to get on  board with Him and work toward His goals, the more you accomplish. In the process, you may find talents you didn't know you possessed. More directly, one should recognize something obvious; if one has a talent, it's because God intends for you to use it for His good.

If we apply biology to this topic, it's worthy to note how the body handles energy. When you use a certain part of your body, the body will feed it, enhancing its ability to continue to perform the particular function. The more you use it, the more it's fed, usually even growing in size or capability. The nervous system is stimulated to create more connections, blood flow is increased, muscles strengthened, all the things necessary to prepare the body to work efficiently. The opposite is true as well. Body parts that are not used will not be fed. Muscles atrophy, blood is shunted away, and the body part diminishes.

To me, this is a perfect example of how the Bible and science are in perfect agreement. Jesus promises those who work for the body of Christ will be "fed", that they will grow (in spirit), and their abilities will grow.

As I look at the part of Norm's life I shared, I can't help but feel humbled by all the people he managed to touch and improve through his kind nature and caring spirit. Norm always thought of others in everything he did. He wasn't flashy... okay, he was flashy, but in a goofy, down-to-earth way. I marvel at his energy, how he could go so many directions at once and juggle it all. He had so many talents, and he never let any of them go to waste.

That, friends, is a life well-lived. It challenges and inspires us to live better, live larger in our walk in Christ, to do more for our fellow men. We are lucky to have other members of our group of similar caliber, those who spend their time caring for others in all they do. Knowing people like this, being in their presence, can elevate us all. Remember Norm, but better still, be like Norm, and challenge yourself to step out and use those talents God gave you to help your fellow man.

Snapshots

Part Six in the Tribute to Norm Series

Snapshots
There are so many other Norm stories to share...

How about the time he and I were running down the road, and I spotted an angry parent of one of my students. We made eye contact, she looked at her husband, then pulled that wheel, hard, in our direction. Yeah, she was that crazy! Norm was looking the other way, but I shoved him hard, and the car narrowly missed us both. This is not an exaggeration in any way - that lady was trying to kill us (me in particular). Still, Norm owed me his life that day.

There was the time Jimmy, Norm, and a few others ran the Tuscon Marathon. Norm flew into the Phoenix airport, but had been deathly ill. They wheeled him out of the airport in a wheelchair, and all the others wrote him off for the marathon the next day. Wrong. Norm ran it anyway.

When Glenn Robinson played for Purdue, I thought I'd never here the end of the "Big Dog" talk. I was never so glad they were put out of the tournament short of a Purdue NCAA championship. Norm was hardly bearable anyway... how it would have gone otherwise is difficult to put into words.

Norm infamously stayed at the track during the tornado warning in the overnight hours of the Relay for Life one year. That is a team player! I would have been long gone.

I could go on and on. Norm was one-of-a-kind, irreplaceable, and he will be sorely missed.

Tomorrow: Closure

Part Five: 19th Century Trekkie

Part Five in the Tribute to Norm Series

19th Century Trekkie
I can't remember the day I first saw Norm in his reenactor uniform, but I do remember the impression: it's not Halloween, so why are you dressed up? I thought it was a joke. Then I found out about the dancing. Incredible! Was this guy trying to make it easy for me to tease him?

The rabbit hole went deeper and deeper. Turns out Steve Duffy was into it too, and, to my surprise, there were whole groups of rabid reenactors who enjoyed ballroom dancing. Pinch me, someone. I must be dreaming!

But it was no joke. Once I figured this out, that he really took it seriously, I didn't have the heart to tease. I'm sure he would have taken it, probably even expected it, but I just... couldn't. It was clear he loved it. Everyone has odd tastes I suppose, I have mine, so why deprive Norm his?

His appetite for the role playing developed, grew, and culminated in his bit part in the movie "Gods and Generals". This must have been the highlight of his reenactor journey - rumor has it he was on hand for every showing of the movie in the Bedford theater, and I always imagined him sitting in the front row, dressed in his Confederate greys. That may or may not have been true, but it sure sounded about right. This was the only point I grew slightly concerned, like maybe he'd found a new calling.

The whole thing had the feel of a diehard Trekkie. You know, those guys that dress up like Klingons, learn the imaginary language, then collect in large cities where no woman is located within 10 city blocks? I'd never really thought much about reenactors, but they are rather cultish, like 19th Century Trekkies.

Norm brought it back to center when he started the History Festival with NLCS. Using the reenacting to teach kids made it all make sense, gave it a purpose, and the kids always enjoyed it.

Anyway, it was always better to see Norm in grey than in black and gold... ;)

Tomorrow: Snapshots

Here is one of the snapshots taken today at the Norm run.We had around 100 people show up to support Annette and family, and a little bit of money was raised to start a scholarship fund. The weather couldn't have been better, and though the dress scheme was a poor choice for the failing light, everyone completed the event without incident.

I would be remiss if I didn't relate how the run started with an honorary lap around the track, which your author race-walked in memory of Norm...

Part Four: More fun in the heat

Part Four in the Tribute to Norm Series

More fun in the heat
That first year of running together demonstrated a couple of things: first, though Norm had started ahead, he wouldn't stay ahead for long, and; I was bad in the heat, but he was worse, by far.

The next year we'd both signed up for the Indy Mini, my first Indy. I'd failed to complete the Crane Mini that first year, and I needed some redemption. I was better trained, so much so that I even signed up for the Louisville Mini the week before. I planned back-to-back minis, not recommended, and I would pay for it.

Louisville had been cold and rainy, Indy the opposite. It was the first year Indy paid for professional Kenyans to run, the first year of going really big, and there were many more firsts. This was the first year Powerbars went really big, so big they were being handed out to all runners in their goody bags. Many runners, inexperience with such technology, decided to get an edge by eating it right before the race.

(An aside: never try new nutrition at the starting line. It's a clear invitation to disaster.)

We lined up, several of us, but notable was Norm, Galloway, and myself. We took off, each with different time goals in mind. Many of us had just run terrific races at Louisville, and hoped for more, but the heat soon dispelled any such dreams. It was in the lower 70's and climbing, humidity in the 60% plus range, dewpoint was high... yup, bad long distance racing weather. What had race quickly turned into a run. No matter - it just wasn't a day for good times.

It became something worse for many others. Those Powerbars were coming back up all over the course. Runner after runner was doubled over roadside heaving up the gooey masses. It was becoming miserably hot, and everyone was beginning to suffer.

Though it took forever, the event did finally end. Galloway and I met at the prearranged meeting area and waited for Norm. Time dragged by, and Norm was far behind his projection. That was no surprise, we had all been off, but it was really getting to the point we were worried. His reputation in the heat by this time was well-known, but just as we were about to panic, we could see his staggering body lurching our way. We yelled, waved, and he staggered by. We couldn't believe it. We knew he had to have seen us, but when he didn't come back, we went looking for him. We found him, leaning against a tree, incoherent. When he finally came to, he had no idea how he'd arrived at the tree. In fact, he remembered very little of the long race he'd just run, which likely as not was a mercy.

Tomorrow: 19th Century Trekkie

Part Three: Norm hates heat

Part Three of the Tribute to Norm Series

Norm hates heat
As my running developed, Norm was also reaching his peak condition. He always seemed an unlikely runner: he was barrel-chested, thick-boned, and his carriage was never more than a shuffle. Still, he could run, and for a while there could run under 8-minute pace on most regular runs. Norm was running many 5ks, 10ks, and even did a couple of marathons (broke 4 hours!). In spite of everything, Norm could run.

That isn't to say things always went easily. It would be fairer to say Norm was successful despite all the odds stacked against him. His most serious obstacle was without doubt heat. Norm could not stand up to the heat.

It was obvious why. Remember the barrel-chested, thick boned description? It's doubtful his body weight ever dipped below 190 lbs., and at that weight, the thick core would create immense quantities of heat that no amount of sweat could vent. His body would simply run itself dry trying to dissipate his high temperatures.

Once, during that first summer of our running together, he and I decided to go down old 37 (now Dixie Highway). We planned to run from the boat ramp, to the intersection of new and old 37, then double back. Distance was about 7 miles, it wouldn't have too many hills, and we knew someone along the course who could give us water.

That was important, because the day was sweltering. The humidity was high, the temperatures in the late morning were already climbing, and our pace suffered. It was tough going out, and though the trip back was mostly flat to downhill, it seemed like forever away.

Norm was normally pretty glib during a run - at least when he could breathe - but on this day he grew quieter and quieter. For the non-runner, someone growing quiet is a reliable sign things are going awry. Norm wasn't so much quiet as he was disconnected, even incoherent. He was still running, but the noise coming from his mouth was making marginally less sense than he normally did (okay, a lot less sense than normal). He was in trouble, and I knew it.

I couldn't just leave him. I didn't think we could get back to the car. Thinking fast, I knew the cemetery had a fountain. If there was water in it, no matter how dank, it just might save Norm. So I pushed him into the entrance of the grounds, gambling the fountain would have something in it.

It did. It was tepid, stinking, and brackish, but it was there. I didn't hesitate. I shoved him in, head first, into the water. I rolled him completely in, soaking him up to his shoes. It didn't take long. As he cooled down, his awareness came back, and he was quite surprised to find himself sitting in a fountain.

We finished the run, given we were a little over a mile from the finish, and Norm was none the worse for wear. I'd never seen anyone lose consciousness and remain on their feet before, so I was more than a bit amazed at what I'd seen. Turns out it wouldn't be the last time.

Tomorrow: More fun in the heat