Craig's OTHER List: Not The Fireworks I Was Looking For...

I get an hour long lunch at work and on most days I use the second thirty minutes to walk around the couple of blocks that surround the library, sort of a way to decompress and recharge for the last half of the day.

A man with a pole chain saw, similar to my new friend -
minus the safety gloves, hard hat, eye & ear protection
and electrical activity caused by complex chemical
changes that occur in nerve cells.
Otherwise, yeah, the same.

On Wednesday, June 20th as I was making my way back to work along the sidewalk on Greenwood Street I come upon a gentleman cutting branches off of a tree. A man of small-ish stature with wire-rimmed glasses, he reminded me of someone you'd call a "poindexter" - or in this case, an older poindexter down on his luck. Utilizing a pole chain saw (a small chain saw with a pole attached in order to reach limbs out of normal reach), he seemed quite busy and unaware I was headed toward him. The sidewalk was littered with branches he had already cut, so I had planned to just walk into the street to go around.

Just as I veer off of the sidewalk a squeaky, high-pitched voice comes from behind the brush pile, "Hey there!" A little startled since I didn't know him and hadn't realized he noticed I was there, I look over and return his friendly connection - "Hello! How are you?" I figured following his lead with a standard greeting on this warm, sunny afternoon would be appropriate, I would then continue on to the library. A simple plan, Yes...but it was not carried out in a simple manner.

My return of his friendly greeting had, apparently, given him permission to dig into his fun-filled repertoire of too much information. I have yet to notice him actually look at me, but he immediately hijacked my lunch stroll as he looked back up into the tree to continue the manicuring and conversing, "You know these things (the pole chain saw) make it so much easier to get this done." I haven't stopped walking and have now passed by him, though I'm looking in his direction and smiling...common courtesy it is to feign interest...right?

Without so much as a pause, he goes on, "This way I won't be able to kill anybody else." Following his lead, I pretend to chuckle, but then...wait...what..."anybody else"? Having now stopped, and curious, I wonder if he just simply misspoke. I had no intention of actually asking about his choice of words, but even if I did, I wouldn't have had to. His Syrup of Ipecac-like induced verbal vomit provided me with all I didn't want to know.

"You know that accident in front of Smith Clinic (now called: OhioHealth Marion Area Physicians) a couple of years ago? Yup, that was me," he says in manner indicating he wasn't proud of this dubious stigma and shaking his head in a negative fashion. I reply with "Oh, yeah?," to signify my sort of occupied attention, but my mind is wandering as to what accident he is referring to. The only one I can come up with was from 2014 where a rear end collision resulted in three people being unable to get out of their car as it burst into flames.

In this accident, the culprit - according to witnesses - began driving erratically about two to three hundred yards before the collision, swerving across lanes and glancing off of other cars while slumped up against the steering wheel. People say it seemed like the driver was somehow in distress. Ultimately, the car he was driving drifted into a turn lane and drove straight into an SUV waiting to make a left hand turn. A fiery mess ensued and for about a year afterward, before the pavement was repaired, the spot where the accident took place was marked by the melted asphalt where the SUV had been.

Telling myself it had to be another accident he was speaking of, he offers more nuggets of unwanted knowledge, "It wasn't my fault? It was the seizures, can you believe I got 57 days in jail for that?!"

"Um...no...that's...that's just...crazy," as I stare in disbelief, forcing my best fake smile and just as dumbfounded as he seemed to be - but for opposite reasons. I'm now slowing walking backward, away from the chainsaw wielding man who suffers from seizures. "Well, I'm on my lunch break and have to head back to work," I say throwing my escape plan into high gear - and now in a dead sprint - I vaguely remember "Mr. Cutty-Cutterson" say something like, "Well, have a good day."

Awww, what a nice thing to say. It is impossible to do so now, but thanks.

Completely weirded out, once back at work my cat-like curiosity drove me to dig a little. Typing in something like "Smith Clinic Fatal Accident" on my desktop, I scroll and down and click on this Marion man sentenced in crash that killed family of 3. Astonished, I see a photo of a familiar bespectacled man in a suit - IT'S HIM! It's the chainsaw seizure guy from just down the street! This WAS the accident I was thinking of and he WAS the culprit.

He apparently had a long resume of traffic violations and accidents previous to this one and, luckily, no longer has driving privileges. It was amazing to me at how flippant he was about his past transgression and even more taken back at his frustration with spending more time than he thought he should have behind bars for causing three people to - more or less - burn alive inside of their car. I don't know about you, but this isn't story you should share with your house pets, let alone random strangers...worst...fireworks...ever.

Independence Day, July 4th, America's Birthday or what most kids refer to as midsummer (because stupid school starts in August) and we celebrate with cookouts, food, fireworks and a race! This year's day of home pyrotechnics would include the Westerville Rotary July 4th 5K. Having covered some goals with the longer races recently, why not go back to those shorter ones to see if I can improve on those!?

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With Traffic Panther Teammate (and fellow 40 something) Gary having broken the 18:00 minute 5K barrier in recent weeks for the first time in years, I was a little jealous and have been super close to doing the same. I haven't run a 5K in under 18:00 since my college running days - going on 20 years. Why couldn't I do that here?

Our route would be a loop, starting and finishing at Alum Creek North Park just off Main Street. The course will go counter clockwise from Main St. to Collegeview to Cooper and Schrock Roads, concluding along the bike path to the park. As of late it has been silly hot & humid and this day was no different. The kind of day where you get instantly covered in a sticky, wet film of moisture the moment you step outside. As the 8:00 a.m. start time edges closer, it is already 80 degrees, at least we wouldn't be in direct sunlight...if that made any difference.

Westerville Rotary July 4th 5K race route

At the gun we seem to be going at a pretty good clip and I'm warm & loose, then weirdness jumps into the picture. Just before we turn left onto Main Street, a blue figure appears next to me. This dude is dressed as Captain America and I don't mean casually. He is completely decked out, head to toe, in an adult Halloween Captain America costume - with headgear, gloves, shield and all.

I believe this guy just jumped in at this point as a gag and for some photo op since it was Independence Day, the correlation wasn't lost. Getting closer to the turn he is just ahead of me, but not enough to have a clear path to move in - but that didn't stop him. Unable to see exactly where he's going due to his costume's stupid headgear, he moves in to make the turn and clips my right foot. Both us begin to stumble while among a crowd of runners as we are maybe 200 meters in.

Trying to utilize my momentum to regain stability (and not face-plant on the asphalt below) my arms are swinging wildly. Captain jerk off....er...America....is doing the same, but has less of a handle on his momentum. I reach out and grab the waist of his costume in hopes of keeping myself upright, from running him over and make his landing less painful. He is nearly perpendicular - arms swinging wildly - so his crashing to the ground was inevitable. A moment later and to the ground he goes, his Captain America Shield clanging on the street as if a distress signal summoning the rest of Marvel's The Avengers for assistance. Despite his stop, drop and roll - which I'm sure didn't feel great - the costume and shield had to have protected him from any big time injury and he did so without impeding any other runner.

Despite one of his feet flying up and catching my inner thigh (just missing some super important physical attachments), I caught my balance and continued on without another hiccup. "Every time...how does goofy crap like this happen EVERY TIME," is what I'm thinking to myself. Annoyed, but feeling good otherwise, I'm in a mix of 10 to 15 runners and we reach the first mile marker/water station. I grab a cup of water and dump most of it down the back of my neck as it is crazy humid, I'm in at 5:43. Wow...I'm going fast, but it doesn't feel like it and L is there throwing out some encouragement.

Winding around and making the return trip along the bike trail, we have spread out a bit and despite a couple of speedsters, everyone is reasonably within striking distance of each other. Just before mile marker number two, a dude about 15 yards in front of me slows down and drifts to the side of the paved trail. Turning his head, he starts to hack like a cat needing to evacuate a hairball.

Mile marker two just ahead, I'm in the blue

"Oh god," I thought, "he's dry heaving!" Growing up as the worst sympathetic vomiter ever, I have been able to get it under control, sort of. Pretending not to hear (or see) him try to force-stop a heat-induced upchuck, I focus on my breathing technique (and keep my mind occupied, repeating "puppies & kittens, puppies & kittens!" over and over.) He eventually, successfully, held off his body's attempt to turn itself inside out and continued to - somehow - be faster than I.

The second mile marker/water station arrives and another cup of water goes down my back and the second mile comes in at 6:24. Much slower than the first mile, but I'm not sure how. I don't feel like I've slowed down that much and seem to have maintained an excellent stride, but apparently not. And I'm not the only one, the humidity and thick, sticky air has slowed all of us down.

Before long, I start to hear the cheers for those finishing and there is still no sign of Captain America. I'm assuming he realized his mistake or just simply melted in the Independence Day inferno we were running in. Back to Main Street and turning the same corner where I killed the superhero, I glide into the finish and see I'm over the 19 minute mark. I'm 13th overall and first in my age group with a 19:29. Not a horrible time for me, but I can't wrap my head around at how slow the times were despite feeling like we were going much faster. My last mile was a 6:29, which would be great - for me - if this were a 10K or longer.

I grab some water and down it instantly. Shortly thereafter, it began. My body started secreting sweat profusely. The humidity had encased our bodies in such a thick atmospheric blanket that all we could do was watch the liquid push itself through our porous outer layer. You could see all of the finishers standing in pools of collected sweat on the ground as it dripped like a soaked dish towels. Now, I'm been hot before and have experienced heat, but this kind of humidity was beyond ridiculous.

My breakfast with bonus gift cards!

It was a smaller race, so there weren't any finisher'so medals of any kind, which made sense. Though, my reward for winning my age group was a Fleet Feet gift card. After replenishing the gallons of sweat I lost and putting on a less disgusting shirt, L and I ate breakfast at Northstar Cafe in nearby Uptown Westerville - the Prosciutto Toast & Eggs hit the spot. Though, my breakfast came out about two minutes after L's and I thought nothing of it because mine seemed to arrive almost immediately thereafter, but the manager came out to us and apologized in a near horrified fashion. She was sorry for "my wait" and said, "Your next visit will be on us. Again, I'm sorry," and handed each of us a gift card. We hadn't even thought about it, but if what took place wasn't up to their standards, then kudos to them and bully for us!

We ate and watched as folks set up their chairs, then sat and waited, along the sidewalk on State Street for the Independence Day Parade which didn't start for another three a hours. Geez folks, go have a beer or something.

Anyway, I now will put some effort into working on my best one mile sprint as the next stop on the tour is the Columbus Running Company Mile Dash on July 14th. I would love to break the five minute barrier, which I haven't done for about 20 years and Traffic Panther Teammate Gary will be joining with the same goal. Just a couple of guys hoping to experience one of few remaining glances at that ever evaporating fountain of youth...or something like that.

So here we are at the height of summer, in all it's sweltering glory. This is the time where "wants" and "needs" are typically won or lost - sweating the details, the humidity, sticky summer nights, backyard barbecues and patio lounging while looking through rose-colored with a cold drink in your hand. This, my friends, is gold...

Chet Faker - Gold

You gotta know, I'm feeling love

Made of gold, I never loved her

Another one, another you

It's gotta be love I said it

You gotta know, I'm feeling love

Made of gold, I never loved her

Another one, another you

It's gotta be love I said it

I might as well be in a garden

I said, ah a smell in the air is a dripping rose (you could be the one for me)

Another soul to meet my void then