An Open Letter to Drivers

Dear Drivers,

First, let me thank you all for your consideration regarding my well-being. Your attention regarding my presence on the road while running or cycling really is remarkable. I've noted your concern for years, in fact, and waiting until now to recognize it is nothing short of unforgivably remiss on my part. In an attempt to redress this failing, please let me recognize as many of you as I can on an individual basis:

To the otherwise responsible-looking woman who didn't check both ways before urging her late model Honda into the intersection I was crossing—thank you both for missing me and having the character to spare me any embarrassment that said near-miss might have caused if you had done anything other than ignore the entire, ugly, incident.

To the young man in the Chevy SUV who swerved in a hilarious imitation of aiming to hit me while I was riding my bike on a county road—thank you for adding just a little excitement to what might otherwise have been an uneventful ride. I'd like to note, in particular, the remarkably animated face you made while doing this, but I'm afraid my description just wouldn't do it justice.

To the young man in the Ford sedan, the middle-aged fellow in the Ford truck, and the middle aged women in the Mustang—I am humbled by your offer to build a series of sidewalks along my fourteen-mile jogging route. Please contact me with further details regarding this "Get off the road!" Are you all serving on the committee?

Finally, to young woman who narrowly missed hitting me while passing only to come within inches of hitting me while making a right turn ten feet later—I appreciate the suggestion that my recent weight loss means I take up less room on the road.

Sincerely yours,

The runner/biker/walker you endangered this week.

Ok My!

I'm almost into peak week in my training plan so I've started looking more closely at the stuff I'll need to have together for race day. One of the things that suddenly stuck me this morning, was the profile of the race course.

Somehow I didn't quite realize how up and down this course was. Unfortunately, it's too late to back out. I'm supposed to do 14 miles this Saturday, but I guess I better put together hilly route.

Pie

So it's the time of year when having the oven heat up the house isn't a bad thing and I've been baking. Fall and winter are the best times for baking--not so good for dieting. Right now my half marathon training is helping balance things out, but I don't know what I'm going to do for December, January, and February.

Where I grew up you never admit to a good crust--it always has to be a disappointment, not because the crust you produce is bad, but because it doesn't quite match up with that Platonic crust we in the cave can only see in the form of dim, not-so-light-and-flaky shadows.

Here are a couple I did this week:


Pumpkin Pie (made with real pumpkin)


Apple Pie (with minced gala apples)

About five months ago two small cats did me the kindness of letting me share their house . In not mentioning this more often, it seems I've been remiss. So without ado: the cats



Even though we've already spent more than $1000 on vet bills we're still calling them "black cat" and "gray cat"--like we're being careful not to get too attached or invested. I'd be lying if I didn't say they've grown on me . . . even if they've also chewed and clawed on me.

In other news, the training continues. I did 12.6 today, being careful to stay at around 10 minutes/mile for the first four like the plan suggests, and still brought it in at 1:55. Tomorrow marks the end of week six of ten and I'm starting to think I won't embarrass myself too badly after all.

Sneaky Race--Now with Picture

The dualthlon up the road was just too irresistible. Forget about operating on six hours sleep a night for the last two weeks. Don't worry about the total absence of mountain bike riding for the last ten months. Instead, just pack up some sports drink, a bike pump, six layers of warm clothes (none of which you'll need more than fifteen minutes after the starting gun) and race.

The event was well-planned and well-staffed. The course, a 3k run, 14k mountain bike, and 5k run was very nice and, with only one glaring exception (more on this later) well-marked. There were lots of good snacks, decent PA with good music and a good briefing fifteen minutes before the start. The crowd was varied. I saw some two or three thousand dollar bikes, but I also saw plenty of entry-level rigs as well. I wasn't the only person without those fancy triathlon shoelace gizmoes, which made me feel good, but there were examples of this strange multi-sport technology.

One of the best parts of the morning was overhearing a conversation about somebody's boyfriend whose job, "You know, racing" had gotten much better since Floyd has gone to Rock. Get that, not even a last name. I'm not saying that Landis deserves an over-abundance of respect, but how--in a monologue that mentions "Floyd" and Rock and Republic literally in the same breath--does one decide the proper direction in which to aim one's scorn?

Anyway we got going exactly at 9:00, and by 9:12, I (and twenty of my best friends) were heading back to look for the turn we had obviously missed. We found it and by 9:18, we were back on track. Best estimates suggest that this make our initial 3k into more like a 5k. After that, however, it was relatively smooth sailing. I'd been hoping for a 1:45 or better, but finished at 1:55:05. Considering the detour, however, I can live with it. The splits are:

Run 1-24:26 / T1-1:26 / Bike-1:00:05 T/ 2-1:27 /Run 2-27:43 / Total- 1:55:05
Obviously my transitions are slow, but I'm not too worried since I really only do the multi-sport thing for giggles. I'm relatively satisfied with the run times and, for a guy who hasn't been on a mountain bike for damn near a year, I can't complain about that leg either.

Tomorrow is the beginning of week six on the ten-week training plan for the half-marathon. I'm still hoping I can do 1:45 or better, but I'll have a better sense of what to expect at the end of next week.

Added: this must have been the most photographed race in which I've ever participated. Unfortunately, even with a photo count totaling well over two thousand, nearly every picture of me looks dumb. Go figure. Here's the one that doesn't out me for the prancing runner I must be.

New Hero

How to be like David Goggins:

1. Finish your first 100 mile ultramarathon in under nineteen hours.
2. Race the Badwater 150 three times in a row, come in fifth, third, and first.
3. Take second in the Ultraman World Championships using a borrowed bike.
4. Be a Navy SEAL.
5. Use your races to raise money so the children of killed soldiers can go to college.

The list goes on, but as I overheard another fan say: This guy isn't an ultramarathoner, he's a bad-ass who chooses to run ultramarathons.

Kickin' it Olde School in the Red Stick

Business took me to Baton Rouge for the weekend. Generally, I like trips to Louisiana, but I must admit that Baton Rouge is one of my least favorite destinations in the sportsman's paradise. That said--I found a really wonderful bakery. I was a little wary of the Old-English motif at first, but it had great coffee, the four-cheese scones were excellent, and the baker-owner couldn't have been nicer. Anyone finding themselves near the capital building in Baton Rouge would do well to check it out.


It was tucked in next to a place offering full-body massages (isn't that implied? is the added emphasis on body supposed to act like air quotes? like they say "full body massage," but they mean, "illegal and not really all that satisfying sex industry stereotype"?).

Either way, I played it safe and just got "scones."

In other news:
I also managed to run close to twenty-miles over the weekend, including a deeply satisfying ten-miler along the levee. I'm at the end of week four of ten on my 13.1 training plan, and I think it's working. Week five is set to be the toughest and then I start a slow taper. I'm running/pedaling a duathlon next weekend. There are fourteen men in my (always too competitive) age group, so I'm probably going to get whooped pretty soundly, but I couldn't resist a chance to get back on my mountain bike and race. More on that next week (or later if I'm typing with one arm in a cast).