Apple Squared

There's really nothing to note... hence the apple. I eat me apples with a paring knife. I whittle away each side... right down to the core. I had a pretty decent square today and thought I'd document my successes.

Election Day is a week away. I made it through my buddy's bachelor party... somewhat unscathed. I've started running again after a week's absence. Winter has arrived. The Bucks lost numero dos to Penn State. We saw Old Crow Medicine Show at the Madison Theater Friday night. Don't ever go see anyone there. The band basically apologized for it at the end of the show. Um... that's really about it.

So I guess that brings us to November. Thanksgiving. Other things too. OSU v. Michigan game, although it lacks the significance that the past years enjoyed.

Worked Out

Wow. It's really the only word to describe the experience. Wow, because I knew it was going to be tough, but there was nothing (other than a previous marathon) that could've prepared me for how tough it really was. Wow, because of how great it was to be a part of it. Wow, because of how many people came out and supported their city's marathon. Wow, because I really can't believe I crossed the finish line.

Truth be told, I know I couldn't have done it without some great people that showed a lot of support along the way. Erica put up with 12 weeks of long runs, tempo runs, speedwork, messy porches, stolen water bottles, running theories and I commend her for that. My family, especially my parents and sister for being there at the end. And to the Bradleys... Hoffmann and Wise. I wish I could've been more together at 19.5, but I had just dueled with the devil and lost. And to Ryan... I should've heeded your advice and run my race.

As for the race, I wouldn't say it was the most organized thing (ie: bag drop), but I was able to find the 3:10 pace group... all the way the hell up front! And I finally settled in with about two minutes to spare... which meant there was no time for stretching and I'd have to warmup in the first miles. I like to be better prepared than that, but it was my own fault. We made it downtown in plenty of time. But the gun sounded and it was time to run... whether I liked it or not... and run I did. The miles passed easily in the cold air. I thought we had come out a little hot, but didn't realize it until about mile five when I heard a group of about four runners confirming their splits with each other... "Split!"... "7:03!"... "Split!"... "7:05!" I heard them bashing the 3:10 leader for running his group out so fast and before long, people were looking around wondering what the game plan was. I knew this was going to be my undoing as I like to start slow and give a good kick in the end. But there was no turning back at this point... we were nearly to the halfway point. After building up a nearly two-minute time bank, we crossed the 13.1 mile mark at 1:34:29... a PR for a half. So that meant I had to run a 1:36:31 to qualify.

Obviously, the second half didn't go as well for me as the first. I'm not sure when it was that everything kind of started to go south, but I was determined to make it to Hoffmann's with the 3:10 group. It may have been my undoing, but I did it. I stopped long enough to take a Gu and some water and I reluctantly hit the pavement... but much slower. I saw the 3:10 balloons up ahead and knew that if I wanted to have use of my legs for the rest of my life I'd have to give up on Boston and work on getting through the rest of this one mile at a time. The race became a point-to-point struggle, but I kept my legs moving. I would think of someone each mile to run for. It was when I was thinking about my Grandpa Alberts during mile 21 that an older guy came up beside me and struck up some idle conversation. We talked about past races, mostly his (this was going to be his 42nd marathon), and shortly before mile 24, he looked over and wished me well. Say what you will, but there's not a whole lot of doubt in my mind who sent him. The last two miles were tough, but manageable. I made my way by Goodale Park and into the Arena District on some shaky legs. I saw my mom on the right but missed the others. To say I was focused was an understatement. Right before crossing the finish line, everything kind of came back to me. They were out of the mylar blankets, but not far ahead was the older runner that got me through those toughest miles and I grabbed his hand and thanked him over and over for what he did... and then he gave me his blanket before I walked away. Whoever that man was, he's a saint in my eyes. 

So I was able to find my parents, Erica and my sister without much trouble. We sat in the sun and I did as much stretching as I could. We finally made our way back to Grandview. We stopped at Hoffmann's. I wanted to say thanks. Bradley Wise was still there and we headed out to lunch. The rest of the day was uneventful. We went to the grocery for a few things, rented a movie, ate pie and donuts (Thanks DT!).

So there's still work to be done. That's good. If you hit all your goals the first time, you lose out on all the experience, right? I'd like to help others get across the finish line the way that guy helped me. Run for a greater cause... for the ones that can't. There's a lot of people that do good things with these races. You can't always run for PR's. At some point, it's got to have more meaning. But an injury-free 3:15:52 is a good start.

Fly Bye

This fly really has nothing to do with me, just my day. I don't know if the suddenly-cold air has brought them inside or if they've been hiding out in corners all along, but these varmints are wandering around under my desk drunk on the stagnant air, which makes them easy targets. Or maybe they're just tired. You could almost say they were delirious. So maybe it does have something to do with me.

It's officially under 60 hours until my alarm sounds and I'm up preparing for my first marathon. I never thought I would and I'd be content if I never did... but I'm committed. I haven't given it much thought up to now. I took it one week at a time, but now there's just one more item to check off the list... the actual race. I'm looking forward to it for a number of reasons. First and foremost, you get to interact with a lot of great people that are in the same boat you are. My sister is coming up to run the half with Erica and I like to see that. My friend, Hoffmann, is hosting a marathon party to cheer on runners as they pass, including me, and I look forward to seeing them there... if only for a minute. And my parents will be at the finish and I know we'll be hanging out afterwards.

But the butterflies are still playing Slam Jam in my stomach and probably will be until those first couple miles are under my belt. And I suppose that's expected. I remember not being able to fall asleep at all the night before my first Indy Mini. It's just a part of the process. But I really really really don't want to end up like this fly... deliriously trying to find my way to the finish... only to have some big monsterface step on me. But here goes nothin'. A good time with family and friends still awaits me after the run... whether I hit my goal or not.

Holy Union!

The weekend was a good one. It was supposed to be a low-key Friday night, but upon returning home, our neighbors were throwing down on some brews and campfires and they asked us to join them... so we did... and ended up staying out until well past two in the morning. It was worth it.

It was off to Cleveland for a wedding on Saturday. It was a perfect day for a wedding. Tommy Dome was the groom. Erica met him at OU while serving a community service sentence for open container. Kids. But he was a seminarian for some time and then was not, and is now married. It was a great time and met some interesting folk.

I was thinking we'd be able to tool around the city for a bit on Sunday, but the closest we got was a view of the skyline from our room at the Sheraton. And what's the cost of a clean hotel room? Obviously, I'm not paying enough so I want to know.

And just to note... I've tried to keep politics out of this and I try not to get too heated in conversation with strangers... as is written in the politically correct bylaws... but dammit, we're three weeks out of the most important election I'll ever take part in. I'm not a political person and I don't try to pretend that I know everything about this election as that would be impossible, but I do know that I refuse to base my decision off of a TV ad, televised debate or gossip. I know that if you want the truth, you have to search it out. You have to dig deep because there isn't a soul running in any election that's going to spoon-feed it to you. What they will feed you is bullshit because apathy is their greatest ally. I never knew Kurt Cobain on a personal level, but I feel close to a quote of his:

"My generation's apathy. I'm disgusted with it. I'm disgusted with my own apathy too, for being spineless and not always standing up against racism, sexism and all other -isms the counterculture has been whining about for years."

Discuss it with people you respect. See what they have to say about it. Read. Gain insight any way you know how, but it's hard for me when people tell me they just don't care... and it's their right to not care. Again, I'm not some pundit preaching in people's ears, but there are issues that I care about. And there isn't a candidate that completely aligns with my views, but I wouldn't necessarily expect that. I just want to pick the one that aligns the best. After half-assing it through much of my life, I'd like to maybe do things the right way from here on out... or at least try.

It's Rollin' Round the Bend

Another night shot... another train track. Different one but in the same general area. I was on my way to Barnes & Noble tonight when I was stopped by this train. I was going to try and beat it and probably could have, but I really wasn't in all that big of a hurry.

Who am I kidding? I was chicken. I should've gone for it. Why is beating a train such a rush? People pull out in front of other cars all the time. It might be a difference in perception that gives the added thrill. You're really not sure how fast it's moving or just how close it is. We don't encounter the situation multiple times a day. It's somewhat the same when I'm riding the bike and I zip across 5th when I probably shouldn't. Sometimes, you just have to go for it. But it's second-guessing your choice that gets you in trouble.

Either way, there were a ton of cars, all full of coal... where they were headed... I really don't know. That might rhyme if Toby Keith would sing it.

Sky's Up

I liked the sky... and that's... ehhh... about it. It was one of those crap-ass, stay inside days that finally gave way to some clearing about the time the sun went down... which happened to coincide with me leaving work. Due to all the rain in the morning, I decided to walk the mile plus to the office. It wasn't all that bad, but I am in need of a breathable waterproof shell. My rain coat created sauna-like conditions in my pits.

There's train tracks that run along the parking lot. Where they go, I'm not sure... but they are used often. It's my shortcut, but I could've walked them forever last night. They seemed to go a million miles in both directions. But with no tent, I thought twice about it and made my way up the hill instead.

Rennenwochenende

Race weekend. I heart ze races. So many folks coming together to run their little hearts out.

We drove to Cincinnati Friday night, woke up early Saturday and checked out Music Hall. After many months of deliberation, we may have found a spot to seal the deal. It's between the two last weekends in August, but I'm thinking it's going to work out. So that's a huge weight off our shoulders and now it's just a matter of planning it in a most practical way. So I'm going to cross my fingers that it works out, but as of right now, you can count on either the 22nd or 29th of August, 2009.

The rest of Saturday was filled with brunches and birthday parties. We ate with Bradley and Leah at the Echo. It was my pleasure to introduce them to the excellent fare. Erica's niece turned four over the weekend, so we spent the rest of the day playing princess games and opening presents. It's crazy how excited she was. You could tell how hard it was for her to contain herself. All the gifts went over quite well and the night was finally capped with a victory for the lucky Bucks. Madison is a tough place to play and an even tougher place to win. But I'm pretty sure Wisconsin deserved it. OSU's D-line was null and void the entire night.

Then it was up and at 'em early on Sunday morning. I made my way north to Piqua, picked up my sister and took 66 the rest of the way into Minster for the 30th running of the Minster Oktoberfest 10K. The weather couldn't have been better. It was chilly and clear... with nary a breeze to be found. This was the first race for my brother and at 6.2 miles, he was slightly nervous. This would also mark the first time that my two siblings and I would be running a race together. It was fun to be around them for the start and especially for the finish. Everyone did really well and I even ran into Rick Callison. Rick won the inaugural race 30 years ago in near world record time. Back in the day, he was as fast as they come. In 1980, he ran a 2:17:42 for the Olympic qualifier in Buffalo, NY. I've known "Calli" for a long time as he's been a member of the Turkey Bowl brigade for as long as I can remember. Every Thanksgiving morning, a group of roughly 20 men, women and children get together to play a rousing football game behind High Street School in Piqua. Not until this year did I realize his running accomplishments. I was looking forward to talking with him Thanksgiving morning, but was lucky enough to run into him at the race. I'm sure I'll still have plenty of questions when I see him in a month and a half.

As for the race, I turned in a respectable 41:29 and was able to better my first half 5K by almost a minute. I almost placed in the "Clydesdale" division (over 185 lbs.). That just means I have something to work for next year. Maybe I can get Erica to run it as well. The best was seeing how many people puked immediately following the race. Sunday morning follows two very heavy nights of drinking in this sleepy little town and it is expected that many won't be able to hold in the previous night's revelry following 6.2 miles. Hurling a day old brat all over Main Street is almost a rite of passage for these folks.

Sehen sie folgendes jahr.