Notes on the DEN Concourse C Extension

The new C concourse extension at Denver International Airport, DEN as the marketing says, is beautiful. It’s open, airy, and full of comfortable seats and places to work. That being said, the new concourse features no restaurants, food, or drink aside from a couple of non-functional Illy machines and little “Grab and Go” kiosks that feature things like $16.50 turkey sandwiches.

It's over $16 with tax.

Of course, there’s a beautiful new men’s room which already has fixtures on the wall taped over. Something hidden is apparently “out of order.” The hand-washing area features a floor-to-ceiling window so that you can watch taxiing planes while washing your hands—oops!—make that “While waiting to wash your hands” since more than half the soap dispensers are wrapped in plastic. I’d say this was left over from COVID, but the feature is not dispersed.

{There is no photo of the restroom fixture draping since bathroom pictures are creepy}

It’s a beautiful facility, and there’s more room when waiting for your flight. Of course, though every passenger is paying for this, tough luck on any modern convenience, like food. Passengers are still doomed to the old part with a 50-deep line at Einstein’s, a similar line at Dazbog, and some sort of non-rhythmic mosh pit in front of McDonald’s (which I avoid because of their spotted scrambled eggs and lukewarm coffee).

A great use of my time.

The barista is out.

It’s nice that there are some new facilities here, but it looks like the grifters have won again! Welcome to $16.50 old turkey sandwich world, and wash your hands first if you can find some soap.

Discussion of Wichita Lineman

It's wonderful to hear the breakdown of how the music was made. As a guy who was born in Wichita, lived 50 miles from Oklahoma when the song came out, Wichita Lineman is one of the songs that's in my soundtrack, hard.

At the time I first heard the song, I thought it was about a guy who worked for the phone company, or perhaps the power company. He was out, alone, tired, and dedicated. I thought the song glorified some of my neighbors who drove home trucks adorned with ladders, maybe a boom, and always a big spool of wire.

I didn't think about the song again for years. At some point, a friend e-mailed me a demo of him playing an instrumental version of Wichita Lineman. The next time we were together, we listened to the song again, and I sang along. He said, "Jesus, man. You know all the words!"

I told him it was a great song, and that he was cutting it short by recording an instrumental version.

About the same time, I read a biography of Neil Young called Shakey--an amazing book which fills in many blanks but has you waiting for the train wreck at any moment. The important quote from Neil Young is, "...every great song is wanting to, but you can't." If any song fills that bill, it's Wichita Lineman.

As Glen Campell was passing a few years ago, I was on the road and listening to satellite radio a bunch--it was filled with Glen Campbell. I had no idea that he was everywhere, and that some of the riffs I'd heard since I discovered the radio were his.

To pile on to Martin's points, the guy was a phenomenal guitar player, and if you go to YouTube and look up his duets with David Gates, of Bread, who by the way ruined it for anyone trying to sing Bread songs at a wedding reception for the next three decades, Glen Campbell sang lead on a bunch of those duet performances.

Glen Campbell is one of those guys who a lot of us thought we knew but realized we knew more once he was gone.

Curt's Tips for Visiting Myrtle Beach

A lot of people ask me, “what do we do when we get to Myrtle Beach?” Here are a few recommendations:


Go to the beach. The beach really is the key feature of Myrtle Beach (and any nearby beach community).  If you’re looking for five-star restaurants and all the amenities of Downtown Disney, you’ll be sorely disappointed. The suggestion is to spend as much time at the beach as possible by avoiding time-wasting activities like “trying to find a good, fast lunch” and “I’ve got to stay inside because I’m sunburned.”


Go to the Big Store (not a "beach" store0 as soon as you land. Buy stuff for lunch and lots of sunscreen. Buy snacks and any sort of beach game/play stuff you might want, especially a few boogie boards for body surfing.

Rent beach chairs ahead of time (unless you’re at a place that does this for you).  http://lacksbeachlifeguards.com/services/ or http://bit.ly/NMB_Beach_Services  It may seem like a lot of money, but it’s well worth it since the chairs and umbrellas you buy at Wal-Mart (or one of the four million beach stores) will rust by the time you get home and putting a beach umbrella in the sand is almost impossible. You might consider one umbrella/two chairs and buying two chairs (the low ones are perfect for sitting in the surf and letting the water rush around you) on your way from the airport.
--Buy a cooler. This will hold lunch and beverages. Buy plenty of bottles of water.
--Buy lots of sunscreen. The spray stuff is easy to use and comes in lots of strengths. Really. Buy lots.

Food. There are hundreds of restaurants. Most of them will have some sort of note on the website, in their ads in the free guides, and on their front doors that say, “Voted #1 {insert food sub-group here} restaurant on the Grand Strand!” No one I’ve ever met knows who those voters are. The “local” food is shrimp though there are oysters and clams through the winter. The way shrimp comes is either boiled, and usually seasoned with Old Bay, or deep fried (“Calabash Style”). There are also “Oyster Roasts” which feature in-shell oysters, roasted. The higher-end places may have brought in comparatively local crabs and oysters, but most of the lower-end and big chain places are bringing it in from somewhere else.

If you stay in a place with a kitchen, buy some local shrimp and boil it. Buy a ½ pound of local, raw shrimp per person, cocktail sauce, some red potatoes, corn on the cob (if available), and frozen hush puppies. In a big pot (buy a big, cheap pot at Wal-Mart if necessary), boil the water, dump in a bunch of Old Bay, throw in the potatoes, cook for a while until the potatoes soften, throw in the corn for a few minutes, and then throw in the shrimp. Do not overcook the shrimp!!! If raw and fresh, you’ll buy it grayish. Cook until pinkish, and it will float. It is done.  Dump out the water and serve. Put on more Old Bay if you’d like.


Avoid chain restaurants. There are now zillions of them around Myrtle Beach. Try the Chesapeake House, Sea Captain’s House, Rockefeller’s, Duffy Street Seafood Shack, Bimini’s, or head up to Calabash (for the genuinely shopping-deprived, there’s a huge Christmas store there).


Steak. Just say no.

“Things to do.” Again, this isn’t Disney. There are some cool things, but the beach is really what you do in Myrtle Beach.  Here are a few “off the beach suggestions:”

--Downtown Myrtle Beach, near the former Pavilion, do this during the day:
Ferris Wheel.

--Gay Dolphin Gift Cove. Been there since the ‘60s, has a large selection of random beach souvenirs and a cool collection of vintage, for sale, postcards.

--Arcades. Skee-Ball and ancient baseball games are the bomb. If you spend $300, you may get enough tickets to get something cool, but it’s still fun, and you’ll always treasure your X-Ray Specs.

--Fat Harold’s, North Myrtle Beach (Ocean Drive for you purists). This is the “Home of the Shag,” a dance coming out of the late 1940s that once required Bass Weejuns with no socks--kind of a Jitterbug with lots of fancy footwork. Lessons are available, and yes there’s a bar. It’s something you don’t see anywhere else, and you won’t forget it. In season, the Ocean Drive Pavilion has a dance floor that looks out onto the beach.

--Amusement Park “Family Kingdom.” There’s an old rollercoaster, The Swamp Fox, named for local revolutionary war hero Francis Marion, and some other very vintage rides. It’s not cheap, but entertaining.

--Golf. Everywhere. Take your pick.

--Miniature Golf. Also Everywhere.

--Pawley’s Island and Murrell's Inlet are pleasant diversions. Brookgreen Gardens is also quite impressive.

The beach. It’s the deal.


Myrtle Beach is a great place to go, and the beach is a beautiful place to be. There are over 100 golf courses, lots of good places to eat, but don’t expect it to be Hilton Head or Orlando. Go to the beach and enjoy!

Granddad, The World's Oldest Lungfish, Passes Away.

This is indeed sad news! Granddad was one of my favorite visits at the Shedd Aquarium, and though most people I dragged there initially had no idea what they were seeing, most left with an deeper appreciation of the aquatic dinosaur-cousin.

While Granddad, the Shedd lungfish, lived a fairly cushy life in a clean, well oxygenated tank in the aquarium, in the wild he, she? did they ever figure this out?, would have lived in a stream bed that would be wet in the spring and summer and dry the rest of the time, surviving by burying himself in the mud and using his lungs rather than gills to breathe. Of course, being buried in mud would have made him less likely to be eaten by predators.

For those of you at home writing your own management and career books, there might be a parable or two that could be used in your next tome--the ability to survive while moving very little or using much air is something I've seen many people do in the rough-and-tumble corporate world. It seems to work evidently.

On a more personal note, Granddad made his debut at the 1933 Chicago Century of Progress Exhibition, or World's Fair, on my father's third birthday. According to legend, my mother was there with her mother for the fair, though Mom's only remembrances were fireworks and an Indian's head dress. incidentally, Dad would have been in Kansas City, and they didn't know each other then anyway.

Well Granddad, as my friend Bob would say, "Lung this!" and Godspeed!

An Era Passes with Granddad  -- Full Article from the Shedd Aquarium.

My Thoughts on the Dalton Gang

As someone who visited the Dalton shrine many times as a child, I still have to say that the Dalton Gang remains one of the crummiest outlaw gangs ever. Most of the gang started as lawmen of various types, but were stiffed of their wages and turned bad--how crummy of a lawman must one be to be stiffed?

Once they became a lawless band of robbers, their time was short-lived, and their most famous act was screwing up a robbery so badly that most of a town showed up to shoot them all dead. Of course, it gave us this fine picture that would make a great album cover had they lived long enough to record some music:

In the end, it's worth noting the most famous musician of the area, Joe Walsh, born up the road in Wichita, played with a band called the James Gang, not the Dalton Gang.

upload.wikimedia.org

upload.wikimedia.org

Anytime I think of work I turn on one after nine o nine. Then I feel better.

Re-Redefining Slow--In the Snow

For those of you who've dutifully followed the blog, I've been a little remiss at updating. Please accept my deepest apologies. The snow and ice here have been very deep, and I've been inside on the elliptical machine. I saw no great audience to a progression of: "I watched Oprah for 45 minutes again."

Fortunately I broke down and bought a pair of cross country skis which gives me a great reason to get outside and get some exercise (with thanks to the fine folks at Free Flight).

Of course I know very little about cross-country skiing, so it's an
interesting experience. I'm presuming that at some point I'll stop looking at my
skis while I'm doing this (like I've finally quit looking at my feet while
running). I'm also hopeful that I'll be able to get down a hill without thinking
of Herman Maier's Nagano wipe-out.

However, with all this talk of skiing, spring is surely around the corner.
Among the peace of a nice winter day were literally hundreds of squirrels
digging wherever there was exposed ground. I've never witnessed squirrels in
herds before. There were also geese flying up over the hill from the river and
heading undeniably north. Between these signs of nature, and the gentle
reminders to start thinking of lawn care from every store, I can tell I'll be
back on the road soon.

X-Country Skiing

1/2 Marathon--Take Two

Even though my front yard has two feet of snow on top of the grass, it's time to think about new challenges for the new year.

As such, with the encouragement of a few of my friends, it's time to do it again. While I felt that I "redefined slow" in Phoenix (click here for pictures), I'm hopeful that I can do a little better and get closer to the time I was shooting for there: 2:40 (still slow for those of you keeping score at home).

With the support of my family and friends, I'm off to Madison, Wisconsin on the 28th of May for the Madison Marathon (I'll take 1/2, thank you). I'm hopeful that a lack of snow and ice on the sidewalks will make for a much better training experience and a much better result.

As much as I love Oprah and Dr. Phil, training indoors bites.

Done

"Redefining Sweaty"

A's

9

Southern Girls Love Runners

Denise and Ann appreciate Curt's pre-sweaty presence. Photo by Ray.

Looking for my "Corral"

Enjoying the Pre-Start Chaos

Winter Running Conditions

View From a Window

Where's Yukon King?

Sushi Zen NYC

I was never compelled to use any of this while ice fishing in the East River.

NY State of Mind

This morning I took a nice run through Central Park in New York City. According to the little map I downloaded, it was a nice six mile loop through the little forest within the city.

The weather was around 40, and the sky kept looking like it was going to dump snow or rain at any moment, but held off. Though I could always hear the traffic, there were actually times I couldn't see it directly, though the tall buildings ringing the park let me know that no matter how idyllic it might seem, I'm still surrounded by humanity in all directions.

Central Park is set up well for all the folks who walk, wander, run, bike, relax, or live there. There are large vehicle-restricted areas that keep the casual observer from trying to share the same place as a taxicab or the occasional fearless civilian driver, and somehow even despite how many people are there (particularly near the south end), things flow smoothly. Running up the east side of the park, I was passed to my right by bicycles, and likewise I was passing walkers and strollers to my left, and especially north of 72nd St., there was nothing interrupting the pace of the folks out there.

The further north I went, the fewer the number of people out. The young mothers with the jog strollers left in the mid 70s, and passing the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservior there were few folks other than the park workers, the occasional police car, and the determined NY exercising folks who look neither left nor right and don't make eye contact with anyone. I did see an apparently homeless man, dragging two bags of miscellaneous stuff, and sporting a three-liter Camelbak hydration system. In New York apparently, high-end accessorizing has made it throughout the various social strata for which I'm presuming some presidential candidate will take credit.

After heading back south past the open fields at the north end I encountered an older German couple I'd met in my hotel who were out with a book on North American trees and in search of several different kind of leaves for their collection. In their long coats and somewhat pointy hats, they looked as though they could have been on some sort of Tolkein-inspired Hobbit hunt, but they assured me their interest was trees.

Further down, I saw a blind woman riding a bicycle. She had a friend following behind yelling directions, and she didn't try to go too fast. I remain very impressed with her skill and the level of trust she has in her friend. At one point I was concerned that the blind cyclist was going to ram a popcorn cart that was being unloaded from a truck, but she swerved just in time.

At the end of the run it was time to head out of the park and back down 7th Avenue into the swarm of Manhattan where smiling at a stranger or saying "good morning" has the typical resident thinking of dialing 911.

As for the run itself, the pace was good, around 12 min./mile, and the walk too and from the park was a great warm-up. The one thing that I didn't expect is that the park is somewhat hilly. It's not the Himalayas, nor even the Poconos, but it's certainly not flat. It's a very nice run, and certainly worth the schedule-bending it took to fit it in.

It's Not Winter, Yet...

This morning gave me a full challenge of layering and wind protection. There was a nice, gusty wind, and an air temperature of somwhere south of thirty degrees. The legs felt good, however, and the increased mileage in my regular loop (now up to four miles) didn't seem to hurt. Carmex and some lubriderm before starting out seem to help, but it will be a hat and a scarf before long.

My pace has been around 12 minutes per mile at this point, and the training plan is looking for around 45 minutes of running at each point during the week. I'm on the three minutes running/one minute walking plan, so I'm feeling more like I'm actually running, and the walk breaks seem to come quickly most of the time.

I'll keep my eyes open for snow, and keep the heavier polar fleece at the ready.

Thanksgiving in Wichita

Yesterday, I declined to run since it was thirty degrees with a twenty mile an hour wind and blowing drizzle. I wimped out.

Today, my son, daughter, and cousins all said, "you will freeze,” as I prepared. It was beautiful outside, however. I'm in Wichita preparing for the excitement of the Thanksgiving Dinner hosted by my aunt Lenore. In order to fully prepare for the inevitable overstuffing, today’s run was very important.

I chose a four mile loop up a bike trail along an expressway and then back through a housing development’s “fitness trail.”

The sun shone brightly this morning, the wind was mild, and the cold was an abstract concept. There was a heavy layer of frost on the grass though the street and sidewalks were mostly clear.

The calm wind really helped keep my temperature right, though the layering techniques I’ve been learning also contributed to this. I ran with a lightweight jacket and pants with a light Polartec mock-turtleneck underneath. For the first time, I also wore a stocking cap, which came off about halfway through.

Aside from the deceptively icy bridges on the “fitness trail,” the run was uneventful and pleasant. It was cold enough that the casual folks who would normally be clogging the trail with $600 imported jog-strollers were inside watching the Macy’s Parade, leaving the day to those of us who enjoy the nip in the air and the fog from our breath.

Runnin' by the River

I woke up this November morning thinking that I was on my way to spring break. I'm in Lawrence, Kansas, I have a full tank of gas, and it's 60 degrees and damp--what's normally an early March morning, except that it's three days before Thanksgiving. Oh yeah, and I'm in a motel with my family, and I'm due in Wichita to see relatives tomorrow.

Running from the hotel, I crossed the Kaw river and stepped onto the nice crushed gravel and sand path that runs along the top of the levee. Normally I run on sidewalks and the street, and the comparative squishiness of the softer unpaved surface takes some getting used to. The little side to side motions in my knees was felt fairly quickly, and probably thinking about my knees made the situation worse since I was trying to control the movement. I'll report that the knees are a little more sore than usual, but not in a particularly bad way.

My initial plan was to run through Lawrence and do a "Roy Williams Loop" which is through the cemetery, around James Naismith's grave, and then across the river with a spit into the river on the way across and another spit on the way back. However, thinking about crossing many streets in the daylight on a misty, cloudy morning made me re-think my strategy, and I decided to cross the river and run on the levee instead.

Since I didn't live up to one former coach's shadow, I did the next best thing. I spent the week thinking of Don Fambrough, two-time Kansas football coach who has made a second career out of being a Jayhawk Football partisan. Fortunately, Don wasn't far away. His speech was everywhere, and if you click here, you too can understand the importance of winning the Missouri game.

Sushi Boat @ Wa, Lawrence Kansas

Wa was a fine respite from hotel food, and I was very pleased that none of the sushi appeared to have come from the Kaw. I did not notice that the tuna were running when I crossed the river in the morning.

Rosedale Arch

Thank You - It Takes a Village!

Today I'd like to thank one of my fans who drives a car like this:




Nearly every time I'm out at a quarter to six, this car buzzes by and a happy voice from it encourages me, "Run Forrest!"

Thank you friendly motorist. It does indeed take a village!

By the way, it was really blustery and cool this morning, and I can tell that now that I've moved to wearing long pants and gloves, a hat is next. The run felt good, and the time was a small improvement over last time.

Eight Miles With Fogged Glasses

Saturday morning I made up the postponed eight mile run. At this point, the pace is 2:30 run/1:00 walk which ended up with a pace of around 13 min./mile.

The reality that I'm aiming toward a fairly long run is starting to sink in. The College of Coaches told me to stash water along the route ("don't carry a bottle of water, you'll look like a dork") as the outdoor fountains are starting to shut down with the approach of winter. I was also informed that I should have some sort of "carb" snack along the way, and my running jacket was duly loaded with four three-packs of Malted Milk Balls left from Halloween.

After getting started and getting through the first mile and a half, it almost felt natural. 29 degrees at the start caused my glasses to fog, and I mis-identified nearly anyone else who was out running, walking, or driving; however, dressing correctly made the run comfortable, though the accumulated smell at the end frightened the house pets. By the way, Runners World has a very intelligent website that discusses dressing appropriately for weather conditions click here.

The run was uneventful, with spots where one knee would complain for a while and then the other and both eventually settled down, but nothing abnormal occurred. Two of my water bottles had disappeared necessitating a pause at Kwik-Stop for more water. The slow service let me heat up a little more than I would've liked, but the cool morning and the inspiration from the smells of breakfast wafting from the West Dubuque Tap kept me going.

So far so good. It's all good.

#4 -- 9-0 Kansas Jayhawks

9-0 wow! Rolling up the score on the Nebraska Cornhuskers! Wow!

Here's the song again:

"I'm a Jayhawk!"

Please set your volume at "maximum."

Cool Weather, Cold Legs

As the training progresses, I'm learning a little more each day about how to prepare for the day's run and how to keep comfortable while making my miles.

This morning, my nifty bedside alarm clock/wireless weather station showed 44 degrees when I started out this morning. Unfortunately, even the miracle of wireless technology can sometimes be, well, wrong. It was really 31 degrees, and I didn't pay much attention to the chilliness until well down the path this morning. The pants would have been nice.

As Bob Dylan once said, "you don't need a weatherman to tell which way the wind blows," but I at least need one to tell how cold it is outside!

Despite the chill in the air, the running came fairly naturally this morning, and I was a little faster than on Monday. I'll probably add a few blocks to keep the time running up.

8-0 Kansas Jayawks!

Sorry, I had to interrupt training for this message.

The Jayhawks have not been 8-0 since 1909 which is longer than it's been since I had run more than a mile. For those of you keeping score at home, it's NOT as long as it's been since the Cubs have won the World Series.

In case any of you need a little "churching up" to the Jayhawk religion, here is the fight song "I'm a Jayhawk!"

Running Log

If you are interested, here is an automatically updating log of my running travels:

Afternoon Sun

Normally I run in the morning, just before sun-up with the stars shining brightly and the really early runners marked by the bobbing lights attached to their heads. Today I neglected to set any sort of alarm clock, and slept until nearly 6:35!!! With the schedule we have, that gives me no contact with the family and puts me to work later than I like if I jam a run in there. That late there are also more goofy folks driving while under the influence of cell phones and the impression that if you drive fast enough and run enough stop signs that time will run backwards and you'll be on time for work... They obviously thought Einstein didn't check his work.

This afternoon, after work, I made my run. Not a long run, but a nicely paced 3 1/4 mile trot (with some walk breaks). It's interesting that it seemed to take longer to get started and comfortable than starting early in the morning (coughing out "water park" may have had some effect as well). I also thought it was colder than I thought and wore the running pants for the first time, which was a miscalculation. My legs felt like lead and then they became very sweaty, and it was with some trepidation that I sat down and removed the long pants in front of my friends at the BVM. With natural cooling enabled, the run improved, but I was still having a hard time with running in the afternoon vs. the morning.

Whether it's the sun or some sort of habitual rhythm I don't know. It was different, and I shouldn't complain as I moved my normal run a little longer and still had a decent pace.

The Kalahari vs. Training

Kalahari wins.

The Kalahari is a water park in the Wisconsin Dells. This time of year, the fun is inside a three-acre building where there is a collection of rides, slides, and pools that alternatively thrill and beat the bodies of people like me who enjoy the excitement of the slide downbut not necessarily the four-story climb back up to the loading zone. Impressively the ride provides water from every angle as you navigate its turns, and between the trip down and the landing at at the bottom, you will be immersed from every angle with water ending up where it may or may not be intended.

After two days of excitement, my legs were dead, my lungs were fully chlorinated, and many parts of my body were vigorously pruned. Needless to say this knocked me two days off my training regimen.

In a wonderful coincidence, the Wisconsin Dells area is full of places that have what's known as "recovery food" to help rebuild the system and prepare the novice runner for a full return to action.

Wally's House of Embers is just such a place. Since I wasn't making a big run in the Dells, no carbo-loading was necessary. Fortunately prime rib was available that helped to rebuild my protein store and give me the energy I need to carry on. In a pinch, the tasty crab legs, which I also sampled, would have sufficed, but taking training seriously means protein--plenty of that from the House of Embers prime rib. My hearty thanks to the Obois family who also supplied me with the other pillar of training, a nice glass of robust red wine.

Now that my lungs are clear and my protein store restored, I'm ready to resume training.

Chapped Legs and Greased Nipples

At some point, especially with the oncoming cold, this training thing requires that one listen to those who've done it before. To one of my College of Coaches I mentioned: "It's getting cold out here, so this is becoming more interesting in the morning." This was after a run where I came home, and it appeared my legs were chapped and my nipples were sore.

One piece of advice I took to heart: "You don't need to be uncomfortable to do this. Dress appropriately, but not too warmly." So I went to the Shoe Shack, where fortunately there was a sale on last year's styles, and I was able to purchase a nice set of lightweight running pants and a jacket with reflective piping.

The other piece of advice I didn't heed as thoroughly: "If it's getting colder, the air's also getting drier. You should start greasing your nipples." I thought this was some sort of new runner snipe hunt, and I ignored it vigorously.

I'd seen the nipple discomfort mentioned in one of the "Zillion things that can happen when running a marathon" article in the Chicago Tribune a few weeks ago, and thought that this was something that could only happen to people who spent more than four dollars on a cup of coffee or hired therapists for their dogs at $120/per hour. Low and behold, it can happen to people like me who rarely pay more than a dollar for coffee (or mooch it) and put the dog in the garage when he barks too much.

Unfortunately, I was involved in a large corporate function on Friday, and while speaking with high-level executives, I was often thinking, "Darn, my nipples are really sore." I explained to my wife this dilemma, and she went into a monologue about how "women have had nipples for millions of years, and all of a sudden men figure out that you have to treat them correctly..." and continued on to discuss layering, preparation, etc., and continuing to explain that the article I had read in the Tribune was probably written by a man (actually written by a woman Chicago Tribune staffer Julie Deardorff). I am, however, remediated, and I am obviously more sensitive than I was earlier in the day.

Anyway when I go out in the morning, I'll be wearing pants and greasing my nipples, and there will be nothing NC-17 about it. Just me, aerodynamic, greased, and wholesomely running.

Six More Minutes Off -- Look Out Roger Bannister!

By following the Jeff Galloway running plan, one of the interesting side effects is that the schedule periodically invites you to run a "Magic Mile" which is a quick mile once you're warmed up.

Since the goal of the plan is "no injuries," especially those that would take you off the running schedule, the Magic Mile also has a similar disclaimer, "no puking." So while there is more exertion than usual, there's hopefully no more wear, tear, and soreness than usual as well. So for me, it seemed fast, but I'm certain that commentators on television would comment that my rate of speed is "glacial."

Nonetheless, coming from runs of nothing to doing six and one-half miles last weekend, there's progress being made, and being able to make thirteen miles in January in Phoenix is starting to look real as opposed to a long daydream with sweaty activities thrown in.

So, I timed a 10:40 on my magic mile, which means that if I keep improving at my current pace, Roger Bannister's four minute mile should be just beyond the horizon...

Refining Rest and Recovery Techniques

This evening, after my legs were beginning to feel a little stiff and sore from Sunday's (the previous day) run, I decided to try the whirlpool tub again, this time with hot water.

As I've been told, avoiding injury is the and integral part of making it to the half-marathon and on to finishing. As such, I had to ask for assistance after I'd entered the tub but left my wine glass on the other side of the bathroom. Fortunately for me, my valet brought me the wine glass (cabernet) and a small towel to keep my fingertips dry so as not to ruin my copy of The Economist.

After a few minutes in the tub, my legs feel better, and I'm ready to get back out in the morning.

Halfway Home?

Today I finished 6 1/2 miles. Theoretically this means that I'm halfway to the half marathon. The training schedule says I've got a long way to go however.

I came home today and sat in a bathtub full of cold water (as recommended by a friend) and for the first time since owning the home, used the whirlpool feature of the tub and peacefully read Car and Driver while drinking a cup of coffee. Legs felt better, and there are lots of cars I can't afford out there.

I'm currently at the point where I'm running two minutes and walking one (following the Jeff Galloway plan for beginning runners). Compared to the one-to-one ratio of a few weeks ago, I feel like I might actually be periodically "running" compared to "plodding" or whatever. The stride does not yet look or feel like Jim Ryun, but I now feel the wind blowing by when I speed up.

Six and a half miles isn't thirteen, but it's getting there. So far, so good.

Running Update, Oct. 3

Oddly enough I felt I was running faster, but actually ended up slower than on Monday. It was cool this morning, however, and the sky was dark blue, maybe actually a "dark azure" for those of you who know.

The half moon was out and Orion was still shining brighly enough that I could make out the belt and the sword, and it didn't just look like a bunch of random dots. I don't know how astronomers would account for the strobe light of a passing jet, flashing across the body of the archer. Would the greeks have considered it a bee, a fly, or what?

Other Things Than Running

Half Marathon Training Haikus

At the suggestion of some interested folks, I'm going to start posting items of note regarding my Half-Marathon training.

Here are some Haikus to whet your appetite for details of this excitement.

Drenched in drizzle
Sun is smart and still in bed
Walking like Ditka.



Running better now
Doctors run past fast today
Lawyers still in bed.

Home Resi's Kit

Sumo Mouse Wrestling

Proof That Intergalatic Ohionans Invaded Myrtle Beach

Seen In California