Thanksgiving 2014

Where to start?  Maybe with Uncle Right Wing and his glee trying to stir up trouble at yesterday’s family gathering.

I see this one coming from 10 miles out and try to melt into the living room sofa wearing a shirt and a face that match the wall paper.  I told him not to start anything.  That was like waving a red flag in front of a bull and off he went.  The biggest losers in all this are of course the relatives who were not in attendance.

You know – relatives? People you wouldn’t choose as friends but you have to pretend to like.

The no show relatives get killed.  Their no show kids get hammered too but it’s their own fault for posting details of their unhappy lives on Facebook.  Thank goodness Uncle B has a giant flat screen tv and the cable is holding out.

I’m now camped by the nuts ( sorry Tina), the salty kind you eat not the ones who walk on two legs and to whom I’m vaguely related to by marriage.

Uncle RW’s wife who thinks that the sound of her voice is so glorious that everyone should want to hear it all the time starts in on her healthy living, healthy planet, healthy health tirade.  Ms. Natural has breast implants and drives an SUV the size of a small house.  Healthy -Schmealthy.  The cable is still hanging in there.

The meal passes without incident.  Uncle RW retires to the sofa, falls asleep starts to snore.  At least he’s not talking anymore.

He wakes with a snort and begins talking about how high his property taxes are.   I’m thinking about stuffing salted nuts into my ears.  Cable – still working, Eagles winning.

Lastly he tells me how great his retirement will be because he won’t have to work anymore and he’ll have a handsome regular income.  I think about putting more salted nuts into my ears only he’s cleaned out the nut dish.

And then it’s over.  He and his wife announce they are leaving and taking their healthy lifestyles and high property taxes with them.  The dog keeps biting my ankles.  I seem to be her favorite target today.  I’m also probably the favorite target at the other family gathering I’m not at today.

The cable works like a champ.

There are things to be thankful for today.

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

A Matter of Perspective

Now here’s a thing or two that crossed my mind about running a long distance race in a city like Philadelphia.

The Philadelphia Marathon shuts down miles of streets, puts hundreds of police, and emergency personnel on duty, uses scores of volunteers and has the Streets Department, Department of Sanitation and who knows who else on duty on a cold Sunday morning in November for a couple of hours not to mention all the planning and pre-production that go into staging a big event like this.  It’s a big deal -right?  Even the Mayor hauls himself out of bed for this.  The Governor – elect was there.

Then there are umpteen thousand of us runners, countless hotel rooms booked for the weekend and a fair amount of money spent locally.  It’s a big deal – right?

As I watched the local news recap the marathon I was struck by how little of the marathon actually made the broadcast. I have no hard numbers on how much airtime we got but geez – you’d think we’d get a little more than like 30 seconds of B roll with voiceover.

But no, J-Lo and some kid named Iggy received more screen time rubbing their behinds together.  This is newsworthy?

It seems to me, speaking as a participant and a runner, that ” Channel 59 Action, Eyewitness All Local Coverage You Can Count On News ” should have interviewed all 30,000 of us.  Really.

In hindsight I realize that running the marathon or the half while a deeply personal issue for me amounts to not much in the big picture.  We runners get so focussed in on ourselves and what we are attempting to accomplish that we are surprised when the whole world doesn’t stop and pat us on the back.

I got plenty of great vibes and feedback from the crowds on the course. The guy         ( A Volunteer) who draped the medal around my neck said, ” Congratulations, You deserve this.”  And I think that he really meant it.

After yesterday’s run I still feel like a champ.

Stay tuned.  Tonight at 11, ” How to avoid that Holiday Hangover, Where to find cheap turkey and Why you have to buy a flat screen tv on Thanksgiving.”  Yeesh.

I need to run.

 

 

 

The Philadelphia Story

Tags

Philadelphia Marathon, Running

Not the 1940 movie starring Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn.  The 2014 Philadelphia Full and Half Marathon.

Simply put a great weekend.  The weather was terrific and the crowd support was tremendous.  The excitement at the starting line never gets old.  It really doesn’t.  The same old worries about finding the shortest porta john line, wondering whether you have enough or too few toss away shirts and when to toss them.  It’s all the same and it’s all still great.

I did pick up one tip for staying warm at the starting corrals.  There were several portable emergency light units placed in the area.  They were all up and running since it was pretty dark when I arrived at the start.  They throw off a lot of heat although you do end up with the faint odor of eau d’octane.  It’s worth it.

Then around 7 am the sky to east started to brighten and in the words of poet John Donne, ” … dawn will have her rosy fingers prying into our sleep won’t she?”  Yes, she did.  Well, I was an English major or minor or not depending on who you ask.

The sky brightened, the air warmed, Hizzoner the Mayor of Philadelphia and the Governor – Elect of Pennsylvania were on hand to start the race.

Fast forward a couple of hours and I was across the finish line safe and sound.

We were supported by the Philadelphia Eagles Drum Line around mile 1 and hundreds of volunteers all along the course.  A band or two or three along the way and some kind of wild, weird, disco costumed dance party in Fairmount Park. There were some guys dressed in Philadelphia 76er warmups at one of the water stops.  They may have well been the real 76ers.  I don’t know.

Best surprise of the day … I’m trucking along and I pass the Mile 9 marker, do some quick math in my head, put my head down and charge on.  The next marker I see is not 10 miles but 11!  Oh Happy Day!  I hate it when it’s the other way around but yesterday everything worked in my favor.

Signs, signs, everywhere a sign.  Posters aplenty as usual, ” Hurry up – I have tickets to the Eagles game today at 1″ and ” Move it, my arms are getting tired from holding this sign.”

Best in show goes to someone in the South Street area who offered, ” Feeling tired ? Blame Obama.”

I was feeling tired but so what – it was Another Fall in Philadelphia.

 

 

 

 

Go Ask Alice

The title is misleading for now but it does pay off so you have to read all the way to the bottom of the page.

When I was in my 30’s and I routinely presented myself at my Doctors’ office with some sort of running related injury he would say something like ” Listen up Bub, your body is 35 years old but your mind thinks you’re only 18 and you are NOT 18 anymore.”

Fast forward through my 40’s and 50′ s and the same scene plays out over and over again.  I just smile and keep on doing what I’ve always been doing.

Now in my 60’s me and my mind are confused.  It’s apparent that my mind no longer thinks we’re 18 years old anymore.  The problem is that it and me ( we)  don’t know how old we think we are anymore.

Safe bet – no longer 18 but 65?  Who are we talking about?  What happened to all those years in between 18 and now?  And what is 65 supposed to feel like? I haven’t a clue ?

Last night as I was driving to the monthly jam session I happened to see a sign at a local roadhouse/bar that announced upcoming local bands.  There was possibly Lefty and Louie, Guns and Alcohol ( OK – I made that one up) and maybe The Nebulous Desperadoes.  I make a lot of stuff up.

Remember Jefferson Airplane and their transition to be hipper and more modern with Jefferson Starship?   The last band on the roadside sign was JEFFERSON WHEELCHAIR.

And that’s what got me and my mind to thinking about how one should act one’s age if one knew how.  If this band can be honest and joke about their ages then they know exactly how old they are and age doesn’t faze them.  They are going to be who they are regardless of their real ages or whatever age their minds think they are.

I once had a conversation with a fellow stagehand who is in his 50’s and insisted on wearing bright green Chuck Taylor Converse sneakers.  He said ” Age Appropriate Footwear” was not a trap that he was going to fall into anytime soon.  Why shouldn’t he wear bright green sneaks?  I had no reason to try to convince him otherwise.

So, go ask Alice. Maybe she knows cause I sure don’t.

 

 

 

 

 

Spanning The Globe

News items in the local rag.  Do with them what you will:

Frozen Pretzel Dog Recall – Words fail me.  I am crushed.  No word on unfrozen pretzels or dogs.

Man arrested after convenience store holdup.  So and so stole 20 bucks from a register at the local Go Go Mart.  He was captured on store security cameras and later apprehended by police.

He was positively identified from store video by the tattoos on his face.  So kids, if you’re gonna knock over a Swifty Mart at least have the good sense to wear a mask over the spiderweb tattoo on your neck and your kid’s names on your cheek and forehead. They must be so proud.

Advertisement – I’m not making this up – VAMPIRE FACELIFT !  $200 off – Holiday special.  I don’t know if the object is to make you look like Count Floyd, Bela Lugosi or Count Chocula.  This is a real thing – you can look it up.  I did and I’m opting for spiderweb tattoos on my neck instead.

Still on the half marathon spaghetti  week long binge.  Confidence is getting shakey but optimism remains high for Sunday.  I’m already packed for the weekend.  Is it still only Wednesday?

 

 

Should I Be Insulted ?

I’m spending my weekly allotment on foodstuffs and staples at my local and friendly supermarket.  All is good until I push my cart to the checkout lane and get checked out.

The cashier takes my money and hands me my change.  Yes, I still use United States of America paper dollars.

Your supermarket may be like mine in that when I use a loyalty card I get points which I can turn into gasoline discounts.  100 points equals 10 cents off per gallon.  I’m hooked.

This morning as the cashier hands me my change and my receipt she also forks over a couple of coupons which are printed at the same time as my receipt.  I guess the store has a server lurking away somewhere that reads and analyzes my purchases in real time and spits out coupons based on my previous purchases and buying habits.  After all, they do want me to come back.

The coupons are for adult diapers and some kind of tonic to keep me regular if you know what I mean.

Have I somehow tumbled into a category where I need wetness protection? What kind of algorithm are the boys in the back room running?  What have I bought that makes anyone think I need something to stay regular and something in case I…

Being a good sport I just laugh it off.

But it makes me wonder about how we all get cast and typecast into slots and categories.  Am I in a demographic that I don’t want to be in?  Are we all in a categories where we don’t think we belong?

I’m eager to see what the coupons will be on my next shopping trip.  Maybe I’ll buy something that is outside my age group parameters just to see who the computer thinks I am this time.

It’s me against the machine.

 

It’s Race Week and…

Tags

germs, Running

I don’t need this.

And by this I mean carpooling with a guy who has the sniffles and is on antibiotics for a cold.  They won’t work, we all know this and I’m wondering what the incubation period is from Saturday in the cough mobile to next Sunday morning when I will be standing on the starting line in Philadelphia.

It’s race week – I’m finely tuned and under trained pretty much like always.

Like an  F 1 car on the starting grid, the horses at the Kentucky Derby except the cars have full tanks and the horses are ready to do what they are supposed to do.  I’m full of nervous energy and but not enough miles.  It’s spaghetti week here at the ranch.

And after my ride in the germ car I end up working with a guy who is sneezing and hacking all over the place and himself.  He says and I quote,” You take a break.  I gotta have a cigarette before I kill somebody.”

Lucky for me I get transferred to another department before he and his bacteria return from his smoke break.  I don’t think there were any homicides on the gig so maybe the nicotine calmed him down.

I spend Saturday and yesterday and today constantly washing my hands giving Lady Macbeth a run in the obsessive compulsive department for clean mitts.  Out damn germs, out.

It’s a good thing there was a two for one special today at my local supermarket on orange juice.  If Shakespeare had given Lady MacBeth an OJ compulsion I would be giving her a run for her money in that department too.

I’ll just have to look up what the sports gurus say about running with a cold.  Aha – here it is… Did you already pay the entry fee?  Yes?  Then you should run.  That was pretty simple.

So now it’s spaghetti and OJ week here.

Finally, note to self – In case of wet weather bring a toss away poncho and a toss away umbrella although I suppose I could always run with an umbrella.

Let’s Do This

Tags

half marathon, Philadelphia, Running

The Philadelphia Half is a week from Sunday.  Picked up my Amtrak tickets today for the trip and sussed out parking at the train station.  Slowly getting into the half marathon head along with all the details that go along with running a major event in a city that’s not your own.

The weather looks like it will cooperate.  But what if it doesn’t?  I’m running anyway right?  Snow, sleet, rain or cold.  If it’s very cold I’ll be running as Mr.Toss Away Several Sweatshirts Man.

A few years back it was chilly for race. Anything spilled at the water stops froze on the pavement. The organizers had ice melt at the stops.   Gatorade freezes on asphalt.  Ice is ice.

In the past when we all got to 13.1 and the halfers went to their finish line and we fullers made a left turn and headed for Manyunk and the ” Valley of Despair” I knew this was where the real test was going to be.  The ” Valley” is my own term for a certain section of the course.  One man’s despair might be another person’s opportunity.  Do with it as you will.

I know the Philadelphia drill so well after running it 7 times.  What to pack, what to eat, what to wear, when to get up and how much fun this will be.

As the runners all walk towards the start in the dark you can sense the excitement building.  Some people are jogging but most walk briskly. Runners are bundled up.  The tension builds like ascending series of chords.

The crowds and the volunteers are amazing.

I’m ready.

Did you ever notice that when you are running well, I mean really well it’s like you are rolling on a track?  You move effortlessly.  Every stride hits with a solid confident sound and for some reason you don’t feel any contact with the street.  Your legs are strong and propel your body into turns with a lean that would make an Olympian proud.  I’m so ready.

This is going to be great!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Second Wind

Tags

hills, Running, second wind

Finally found mine this morning after about a month of hurried training for the Philadelphia Half.  I had forgotten how good it feels to be able to slip into cruise gear and simply run.

Attacked an old hill today too.  Hillary Hill so named because years ago there was a Hillary Clinton sign at the top.  Then there’s Houck Hill named for the family that lives halfway up and finally SOB Hill.  That’s because of where it sits in relation to the end of one of my loops and being less than a mile from home it’s a real SOB.  Sometimes I win and sometimes I don’t.

I also have my Champs D’Lysee which is really Grandview Boulevard and the long right hand sweeping Olympic corner.  After years of running the neighborhood I’ve taken to assigning names and personalities to the streets and intersections.  Well, why not – It’s my running route isn’t it?

I think that there is a scientific and purely rational reason for getting a Second Wind.  I don’t know or physiology of physics of why it happens but what a welcome surprise and gift it always turns out to be.

Anyone else have names for special places on their runs?

On The Starting Line

Tags

Philadelphia Marathon, Running

In less than 2 weeks from today in Philadelphia there will be about 30,000 runners lined up near the Art Museum nervously watching the sky, looking at their watches, tying and retying their shoes, stretching, laughing, making friends and wondering.

On the starting line you never know what kind of a day it will be.  But by then it’s too late to worry about the runs you missed or the miles you meant get in.

On the starting line it’s you against you.  What have you got today?

That’s one of the best parts of running a marathon or even the half.  It’s figuring out what you’ve got and if you don’t have it it’s finding it in yourself out on the course.

There will be 30,000 different levels of fitness, 30,000 different reasons for running, 30,000 dreams and 30,000 hopes all headed in the same direction.

Think about the collective mileage that those 30,000 people have logged over the past few months.  The number is astounding and if anyone cares to take a shot at the math I’ll be happy to share that number.

I’ll be one of the 30,000 looking at the sky and wondering.

This is gonna be great.