Delaware is Soiled!

We had a large garden in the house I grew up in and portions of the summer for my siblings and I  were taken up by picking five gallon buckets of green beans as part of our chores. Man, did that suck. In the sun and humidity of Southern Ohio farm country, you could feel the sauna-like heat emanating from the massive cornfield that abutted our backyard. Do you know how long it takes to fill up a five gallon bucket with green beans....eons...EEE-OONSS!

A variety of tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, climbing beans and
scrabble cat chillin' in the shade.

As an adult, I don't mind playing in the garden. Though, most of the past few years my summer garden would grow wild - but nothing would produce fruit. A cruel joke on me as I put in the effort with no return other than piece of mind. I did, however, get my hop bines to produce enough to for one batch of homebrew. I'm assuming the poor soil at my apartment was the culprit behind my lack of garden production. Either that, or the f-ing green bean gods were just giving the finger for despising them as a child.

This summer, at the new place in Delaware, L and I have full reign of the large yard attached to our duplex. I don't know what the major difference may be, but holy crap....I could bury the tire iron in the trunk of my car and a seedling would somehow sprout. Nearly everything we've planted - flowers, beans, onions, tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplant - has jumped out of the ground, celebrating freedom like someone who just broke out of prison. Even those same hop bines (dug up and taken with us during the move) are two times larger than the same period just one year ago.

Everything grows by bounds on a daily basis and having neighbors who aren't numbskulls (like my former place in Marion) meant we would have a number of folks to share the bounty with. Having planted some things around an old tree stump and our place having been a single family dwelling at one time are likely the reason the soil is much more fertile here. It isn't an old apartment building with a yard the size of a postage stamp surrounded by asphalt.

THIS, now, FEELS like summer to me: hot, humid, a large backyard with a firepit and within walking distance of civilization.

And with the arrival of the Summer Solstice this week, what better way to break the heat and humidity seal by running a half marathon? On Father's Day, L and I traveled about 45 minutes south to the west side of Columbus for the Hilliard Classic Half Marathon 10K 5K. I ran a race related to this event last year, but it was called "THE" It's NOT the Hilliard Classic Half Marathon, 10K & 5K and it was held at Alum Creek State Park. Apparently, portions of the route used for the previous year's event was under construction which forced moving the event to another location - hence, the name.

So, here in 2018, the event returned to it's original location

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                                    Live Hard. We Got You.

With the temperature expected to hit 90-plus, it was nice to know the 7 am start would be much cooler...but for how long? And the Central Ohio humidity lately has forced your body to secrete perspiration and drip like a soaked sponge - that's what I get for signing up at the last minute. We would begin at the stadium at Hilliard Bradley High School and trek out & about along a 6.6 mile spiral before making a u-turn, returning from whence we came.

Race route - from Hilliard Bradley High School 
 and spiraling out, then back.

It was already 75 and humid at the gun. We would be free from direct sun (which was big red ball of in the distance at the time) for only so long. There was a small group of us who ventured out front as we circled the Hilliard Bradley Campus, among them was a Hilliard Bradley student in full track uniform along with a Hilliard Davidson athlete donning his school's track get up. The Bradley student was of the chatty sort, mentioning we had a good group and this was his second half marathon and asking us what our best half times were. I answered a few times, but then just ignored him. You could hear everyone's watch beep as the first mile marker was reached. Talky-talkerson then points out that at this 6:20 pace, we all would easily break the 1:30:00 barrier. Right then I thought if he were to keep yammering, I would have to kidney punch him.

Before reaching the first public roadway, a gentlemen sped up from behind to take the lead. It didn't take him long to leave us way behind.Through the second mile, the two Hilliard athletes tagged along with me and we pass L throwing out some encouragement. Shortly thereafter the Bradley student fell back (ha! No more talking!). The Davidson athlete was right with me to the first water stop and when the mile three marker came upon us he drifted back. "Good luck man," he forced out as I began pulling away. I didn't answer, but instead I stuck my hand out behind me and he high-fived me. Now on a long straight stretch I focus on the lead and can only hear the sound of my own breathing.

Me in the yellow with the the two Hilliard prep runners,
the chatterbox is in the black

We soon turn into an area in the midst of major housing development construction, following roads and roundabouts that have yet to see houses. Just before mile five I come upon a water station along the bike path we are about to turn down. With tables on each side of the path I push out at breathy, "Gatorade!?" The two ladies on the left side (holding cups of water to pass out) point to the table on the right side with a gentleman standing next to it. By this time I'm nearly passed it and reach to maybe grab a cup, but he is just standing off to side watching. The table is now completely behind me and rather than stop and go back to get cup, I wave at the table in disgust and keep on. I hear the ladies then say something to him like, "You are supposed to hand them the cup!?"

Suddenly I hear some heavy footsteps behind me, the kind where one would figure the person running is still learning how to run. The figure pulls even with me, but at the turnaround I drift in front. I can tell it is a younger dude and I'm using his following to keep my pace on track. Passing the same water stop moments later, the guy is now holding out the cup for me - but he's holding it like Superman would hold a rock of Kryptonite, with the ends of his fingers. Just as I reach it grab it, he lets go. It bounces off the ends of my fingers and the Gatorade hits the ground. You have got to be kidding me. I say nothing audibly, but in my mind I'm cursing him and quite perturbed. We continue along the bike path, running past a vast waste land of development to come. By this time the lead is so far out front that the kid and I now have our own bike escort.

From the stadium at 6:30 a.m., 75 degrees and humid.

Following the bike escort we delve deeper into the development construction area and watch as the lead (making his return trip) runs past us like we're walking. We cross a street lined with cones and pass a few onlookers, then suddenly the bike lead slows and turn, heading back towards us. I don't see any turnaround sign and he doesn't say anything, so I ask, "Is this the turnaround?" "Yes, it is", he says. I turn and take a good four to five steps before the onlookers we had just passed say, in a surprised fashion, "No..No..the turnaround is further down!" A little ticked, "Well, F***" was the phrase that came from my mouth out of frustration. I turn back around to notice the kid didn't turn, he continued on and now has a good 10 to 15 yard lead. The escort rides back passed me, saying "I'm sorry man."

About 200 yards later comes the ACTUAL race turn around. The kid, who made it there before I did, runs by me and the bike lead drifts by as well. "I'm sorry as hell as man", he says as I'm now running the opposite direction. Not that the escort is to blame, but this is where I started to crash a little bit. I was frustrated and the mind games came in to play. Slowly the kid drifted further away as the heat began to set in. We return to that goofy water station and this time there is also a girl on the Gatorade side, here I point to her and successfully grab the cup she's holding and.....it's water. Sure, the water was great to sip and douse myself, but I was looking for a sports drink - a sugar and sodium concoction of some kind.

2 1/2 miles to go utilizing L's water bottle
offering.

Down the shaded bike path segment, I feel a bit stronger and gain slightly on the kid. We turn and come back up the incline and it is that water station again. I purposefully stay to the left to reach the Gatorade and head straight for that guy. Here he is holding a cup of colorful liquid and I smile, grab it successfully and take a swig - finally some damn sports drink: fourth time is the charm! That kid, though, kept cranking along and just beyond the mile nine marker he has a good quarter mile ahead. I'm starting to succumb to the humidity and it reminds me of my first half marathon attempt last September in Celina when it was 90 and full sun for the last five to six miles.

I keep chugging along and focus on landmarks as I go to stay on course, but I can tell I have slowed significantly. Running alone with no one around kind of takes the effort down a notch and it hit me hard. I grab water offered by an onlooker and dumped it down my back. Soon, I see L again and she, too, hands me the water she has and I do the same as the previous water offering.

I reach the school again and make my way along the course winding around the campus. Into the stadium and around the track, I hear the announcer confirm that I'm the third place finisher. Finally reaching the end, I stop my watch and see I'm in at 1:32:54. Not an awful time at all, but nearly five minutes slower than the New Moon race a couple of weeks before. The winner finished ahead of me by ten minutes and the kid had me by three full minutes. That last 5K, for me, was a struggle.

L and I "celebrating" the fact that I didn't
melt

Hanging out for a little while to recover, downing gallons of water and watching the rest of the field make their way in, I dig a little bit and discover the kid who ran away from me was all of 17. Geez, I couldn't imagine being 17 and running a sub 1:30:00 half marathon. Until this past April, I couldn't imagine myself doing that at all. Now if I can just learn to pace myself a little better or focus more on my race, blocking those insignificant distractions from my mind.

I'm not sure what is next, probably a four-miler or 5K somewhere around the Fourth of July, we shall see. Breaking the 18:00 minute 5K barrier for the first time since my college days would be fun to do, Traffic Panther Teammate Gary did just that a week ago and I'm jealous. This running thing has  finally become fun again.

This past Friday night, L and I lit up our firepit loaded with all the discarded woody remnants tossed from various trees surrounding our yard the last few weeks. It was giant pile and the fire was a small inferno for a few minutes before coming down to Earth enough for us to roast some hot dogs and marshmallows. We had a great time and for a summer that's just beginning, it was refreshing and exciting.

It is cool to know that more and better things are on the horizon - this....I believe...

The Bravery - Believe

The faces all around me they don't smile they just crack

Waiting for our ship to come but our ships not coming back

We do our time like pennies in a jar

What are we saving for, what are we saving for

There's a smell of stale fear that's reeking from our skins

The drinking never stops because the drinks absolve our sins

We sit and grow our roots into the floor

But what are we waiting for? What are we waiting for?

So give me something to believe

Cause I am living just to breathe

And I need something more

To keep on breathing for

So give me something to believe

Something's always coming you can hear it in the ground

It swells into the air

With the rising, rising sound

And never comes but shakes the boards and rattles all the doors

What are we waiting for, what are we waiting for

So give me something to believe

Cause I am living just to breathe

And I need something more

To keep on breathing for

So give me something to believe

I am hiding from some beast

But the beast was always here

Watching without eyes

Because the beast is just my fear

That I am just nothing

Now its just what I've become

What am I waiting for

It's already done

So give me something to believe

Cause I am living just to breathe

And I need something more

To keep on breathing for

So give me something to believe

Photos courtesy of Lauren B.

More tomatoes, cucumbers, hot peppers and hops!

The front yard.

Climbing beans taking off

Friday night's fire pit and refreshment.

At home later that morning, Whiskey (the cat) uses us
as furniture

Somewhat recovered

3rd, 2nd & 1st - Yours truly, the kid and
the guy who beat all of us down.

Before it all began

Hilliard Bradley's athletic complex

In the corral waiting to take off

My finisher's medal with a
Royal Docks Brewing
Backyard Crusher.

I did finish 3rd, their stats
were a bit off.

At the finish!

Scrabble Cat Has a Hankerin' for Some Whiskey

Don't blink, it is now June and we are marking two full months at our place in Delaware. A week after running the New Moon Half Marathon in our new hometown, and hosting a number of friends afterward, L and I are attempting to figure out how one guest hasn't figured out the invitation to the post race bash didn't mean you could keep visiting everyday.

Scrabble Cat..so...you wanna come
out and play?

As most of our guests left Saturday night and a few neighbors remained, out of the darkness comes a black cat gallivanting over to us. It was very friendly, wanted to play, chased moths & lightning bugs and made itself at home. We, and our visiting neighbors, had never seen it before. It hung out with us until we decided to call it a night. The neighbors left, we cleaned up and went to bed. The cat, however, stayed...and made sure we were aware ALL NIGHT LONG. It sat outside our bedroom window, on a table in the carport, meowing sometime nearly every hour. 

At times, I thought it was attempting to talk to me. It would meow, like a non-demon cat, about twice - then the third one would be more deep and slower, like it was getting frustrated "Hey, I know you can hear me humans!!" It came out with such a draw, it seemed to be trying to manufacture syllables, even conjugate. Imagine a human evolving from grunts and moans to word like sounds, but not quite there yet. Instead of a standard feline sound, it had inflection with more of an "R" sound. The "ROWLrrrROWL" made you think of someone attempting to say "hello" with a mouth full of food.

Lying in bed listening to this, I sort of thought I should go to the window to retrieve some message being delivered to me by a higher power, world beyond ours or from the grave from a since past relative - "Grandma?!? Is that you?!?!" The following morning I jokingly told L it sounded like the cat was trying to say "hello". Her eyes opened wide and through a half chuckle - and nearly spitting out her coffee - exclaims, "I thought the same thing!" It is a cute cat and looks like it is being taken care of...maybe it just needs some friends? 

The next two nights, enjoying the weather and in the heat of cutthroat games of Scrabble (we started keeping a running score, I lead L by 13 points and we have over 1,200 a piece right now) - like clockwork - the cat would come back. Chasing insects in the night, keeping us company and looking for affection, it seemed like it just belonged and this was it's home. For obvious reasons, I nicknamed it "Scrabble Cat" and for the past week it casually comes to hang around during the afternoon, as well as the evening, which annoys the bejesus out of our indoor cats: Whiskey & Jameson. We assume Scrabble Cat has seen Whiskey investigating from the window ledge and is simply interested in getting to know her better, not taking "no" for an answer. Jameson isn't so fond of the visitor, he'd rather sleep without the third party annoyance.

Having Scrabble Cat greet me coming and going on each run the last few days helped keep my mind at ease as the 41st Annual HOKA ONE ONE Columbus 10K arrived just eight days after the second place finish at the half marathon in Delaware. At last year's race, I surprised the crap out of myself by placing 55th out of the more than 1,000 competitors (taking 4th in my age group) at 38:46. Having trained for this, and much further distances in the past year, I had to have the upper hand when it came to possibly improving on this finish and time, correct?

**We back EVERY pair with 

FREE Replacements if Lost or Broken**

**Each order also secures 11 meals 

to fight hunger through 

Feeding America**

Get a discount on your next pair of @shadyrays, Next Generation Shades, by using my promo code: "Simpson"  https://shadyrays.com/  Check them out, I have the X Series - Infrared Ice Polarized

   

                                    Live Hard. We Got You.

The 2018 Columbus 10K route loop is the same as last year's and is one all to familiar to me. It navigates through a section of Ohio's Capital City I used to live in, sort of like a homecoming. We start downtown along the The Scioto Mile river front, travel north through the arena district passing the home of the Cleveland Indian's Triple-A affiliate (Columbus Clippers), Huntington Park, as well as the home of the Columbus Blue Jackets - Nationwide Arena, drifting by Goodale Park, through historic Victorian Village and Harrison West and onto the Olentangy Trail just south of The Ohio State University to turn south and make the return trip to the Promenade at The Scioto Mile.

The 41st HOKA ONE ONE Columbus 10K
race route

We couldn't have asked for better weather with it being sunny and cool enough to take along a jacket. It was interesting to be in the corral and see a variety of familiar faces, though, only familiar because I see them at the start of most of the bigger races as well as the finish of those races as I come in after them. And no teammates this time, so I would have to stay within myself and not try to beat the world.

At the gun I'm going a little faster than normal, but I'm not going crazy. Within minutes the lead pack disappears, indicating this year's race is a bit more stacked than last years. The small group I'm hanging  with drifts a bit ahead and I'm at 5:47 for the first mile. A bit fast for me, but I want to see how long I can hang with the younger, faster majority I'm commiserating with. The faster folks do their thing and move ahead, but at a slower rate than in the past. I would like to believe it's because I'm doing a better job of holding pace.

Mile two is slower (6:08) and more of where I should be and I'm comfortable. A couple of competitors and I are hanging around in our own little pack, not being passed much but yet not necessarily gaining on anyone either. I'm at 18:48 (6:14) for the 5K split as we hit the Olentangy Trail for the return trip downtown. The sun is much higher in the sky now and the trail provides some shade, but that will soon end. I don't think I'm slowing down all that much, but I'm beginning to see some of those familiar (faster) faces drift by, my mile four is 6:22.

I feel relatively strong, but I'm struggling to keep with the folks who have much more to finish with. We reach the Scioto River and those I've been pacing with start pulling away, I tell myself that's where the 15 to 20 year age difference comes to light - not to mention I just started doing this again 22 months ago. Sticking to my form and stretching my stride as much as I can, mile five is 6:29 and as I see those in front get further away I can't help but feel like I'm in quicksand.

Ignoring others and focusing on my progress the rest of the way, I reach and bypass the lower portion of the promenade to make the turn from the trail onto Rich Street. Alone, I pass L yelling some words of support and cruise to the finish. Just before crossing the line I glance at the clock to my right and reach to stop my watch simultaneously. Sucking air and attempting to down the bottle of water handed to me, I notice my watch has stopped at about what I saw on the clock: 38:17. A 10K PR for me, but being a competitive person (especially with myself), I'm irked at my inability to finish stronger.

Nevertheless, its hard to complain about being 29 seconds faster than last year. And my thinking that this year's race was a bit more stacked was true. I was much faster than in 2017, but finished two spots further back - 57th out of 1,132. As always, it is fun to laugh at how far behind the winner I come in. On this day I was 8:04 behind the winner, so even if I had run just 5.2 miles, instead of the 6.2, he would have still come out ahead. That is just crazy. Though, if it were 1996  - and I was still running at Morehead State - I would have been only about two minutes behind. In other words, he was just lucky.

So, yeah, a half marathon and a 10K on consecutive weekends (8 days apart) along with six days of training in between. That's a lot for my soon-to-be 43 year-old body, but I'm putting in the weight training and plyometrics in hopes of keeping the glue holding me together from getting stale or disintegrating. I don't know if it's actually working, but I'm getting faster and it is exciting being able to compete - at a relatively high level - again. I guess that's what happens when you throw caution into wind. 

I don't have any immediate plans for my next race, but that will change soon I'm sure. At the moment I think we are going to simply enjoy the summer as it moves along. No need to sit and let it slip by, we're going to tackle things when they come about. The time for "what ifs" is over: I'm through finding blame, I don't wanna watch and then complain...that is the decision I have made...

The Front Bottoms - "Twin Size Mattress"

This is for the lions living in the wiry broke down frames of my friends bodies

When the flood water comes, it ain't gonna be clear. It's gonna look like mud

But I will help you swim

I will help you swim

I'm gonna help you swim

This is for the snakes and the people they bite

For the friends I've made; for the sleepless nights

For the warning signs I've completely ignored

There's an amount to take, reasons to take more

It's no big surprise you turned out this way

When they close their eyes and prayed you would change

And they cut your hair, and sent you away

You stopped by my house the night you escaped

With tears in my eyes, I begged you to stay

You said, "Hey man, I love you but no fucking way"

I'm sure that we could find something for you to do on stage

Maybe shake a tambourine or when I sing, you sing harmonies

This is for the lake that me and my friends swim in, naked and dumb on a drunken night

And it should've felt good but I can hear the Jaws theme song on repeat in the back of my mind

Make sure you kiss your knuckles before you punch me in the face

There are lessons to be learned, consequences for all the stupid things I say

And it is no big surprise you turned out this way

The spark in your eyes, The look on your face

I will not be late

I'm sure we could find something for you to do on stage

Maybe shake a tambourine or when I sing you sing harmonies

I wanna contribute to the chaos

I don't wanna watch and then complain

'Cause I am through finding blame

That is the decision that I have made

She hopes I'm cursed forever to

Sleep on a twin-sized mattress

In somebody's attic or basement my whole life

Never graduating up in size to add another

And my nightmares will have nightmares every night

Oh, every night. Every night

Photos Courtesy of Lauren B.

Columbus 10K SWAG

Jameson hard at work

Whiskey, basking in the attention

About a mile to go

My finisher's medal with LeVeque Tower
in the background.

When goofiness attacks

Ohio Supreme Court Building...below is the 10K
start & finish line.

View of the Promenade from the
Olentangy Trail.

Finish just ahead...

Half mile to go...

That night, pork loin smoking
with a Christian Moerlein Brewing
Strawberry Pig Cream Ale

Starting mile #2, the girl in black and I would hang
until she took off with a mile or so to go.