Do You Still Run? - Part 8: 150 Reasons Not To, One To Be a Legend

"The Buck Fifty: 150 Miles, 24 Hours, 10 Person Teams, 02 Drivers, 1 Great Cause" - this is the promo line you get when you visit The Buck Fifty 150 Mile Team Relay's website. What you aren't told are the amount of nerves, psychological struggles, physical push-throughs, communications issues and having to deal with a dramatic change in Ohio's lovely weather - seemingly - for just these specific 24 hours. Thus, the inaugural event would include 38 teams with runners from around the U.S. of A.

Here in the Buckeye State we had 50 to 60 degree weather until Thursday afternoon, then the hammer came down and it included 20 mph winds, a wonderful mix of snow-rain-sleet, and temperatures ranging from 18 to 30 as a result of the wind chill. So, on Friday (race day) our van #1 with runners 1 thru 5 began with light rain/snow mix and crazy wind. What you don't know at this moment is the weather for Sunday through Tuesday for the SAME AREA: 70 to 80 degrees and sun.

Mother Nature...you know what you are...I will not say it...but YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE.

Mark - we sold your house while

you were gone. Good Luck Team Captain!

Adding to the insult, our team captain and collaborator behind this whole thing we're doing - Mark (yes, the same Mark who started all of this with that Facebook message last July that simply said: "Do you still run?) -  he discovered in February that since he is really good at his day job, he was getting a pat on the back.

That pat on the back...a cruise to a tropical location on the same damn week as the race. As the rest of us have been putting together details, dotting I's and crossing T's, he has contributed with things like the picture here on the right with a message of "Good Luck Team!"....ass. He did, however, find a replacement as Josh joined in on the fun.

Mark didn't have an excuse, but we had another change before it all began on the day of. Susan came down with the Flu and could not take part, she found a replacement in the form of her friend Chris. Luckily, Chris was eager to take part and the first group began their journey at 6:30 Friday afternoon.

Traffic Panthers Van #1, posing

with The Buck Fifty winner's trophy

Funny, we in van #2 didn't know this until after van #1 started. We stayed in contact letting each van know how far along they were via texts. So when we get a text saying "Chris is in, the next leg is off!" we in van #2 are perplexed and look each other thinking, "Who the hell is Chris?" Through eight months of planning, that name had never come up. We even created a team Facebook page to assist in the communication, still, no Chris. A short explanation later, and it made more sense, but still an odd surprise.

We in van #2, carting around runners 6 thru 10 (I was #6), would begin the journey Friday at 11pm under the cover of darkness. Armed with a reflective vest, headlamp and flashing tail light, my first leg would be a relatively flat four mile jaunt from Frankfort Adena High School to about Edwin H. Davis and Sons, Inc. Soon, van #1 teammate Patricia arrives, I take the baton and I'm off.

Leg #6, my first run

Thankfully, it had "warmed" up to 36 degrees, with a clear sky and a bright, near full moon to help guide me along. A rather large hill at the beginning, but the final three plus miles were flat and easy. Running like that in the middle of the night, I was not used to, especially since I couldn't wear my glasses and attempting to see race directional signs was a chore. I even passed a competing runner and gave her the "keep it up" greeting as I went by. We all needed a little encouragement.

Nerves quickly pass and race mode kicked in, about 25 minutes in and the light at the end of the tunnel (the end of leg #6) appeared. I pass the slap-band baton onto my teammate Eric, he takes off and I celebrate making it through the first of three designated runs. Once in the van, I down some water and realize - I AM STARVING. A Cliff Bar, a banana, a granola thing, peanut M&M's and a grab bag of whole grain Cheetos from the race SWAG bag disappear in seconds. I now get to ride along for the next couple of hours as the rest of Van #2 completes their first mission and Van #1 starts mission #2 at a grain mill in Kingston. There, I get some coffee to warm my chilly bones.

Traffic Panthers Van #2, with the Adena Warrior,

about to begin.

We get about 2 1/2 to three hours to chill before we are back at, holding up at our homebase for the weekend (the house of my former high school track coach and Buck Fifty van driver, Mike). I didn't sleep - others did. Rather I closed my eyes and more/less meditated. More bananas, water, and cliff bars are downed and we head out to the start of our second mission around 4:30am Saturday.

I will begin leg 16 at Walnut Creek Campground and Resort and follow a slow incline for six miles to the intersection of Walnut Creek Road and Marietta Road, just in the shadow of Tar Hollow State Park. Waiting on the Van #1, our teammates took longer than expected. They had to venture through the trails of Great Seal State Park and the trails were mucked up and trampled, making it that much more difficult to navigate. When Patricia eventually arrived, accompanied by teammate Gary for support, it was now sunrise and much colder than the night before. At about 28 degrees and hidden in the hills, I stayed warm hanging out next to the fire created by the race transition team & crew while stretching and warming up.

Leg #16, my second run

I take the baton from Patricia at around 6:45am and head out. Hoping to be somewhat loose, it took a few moments of breathing frigid air to find my race/running mode and felt good. Able to pick up speed and pacing along the slightly inclined route, the sun slowly began to rise high enough above the hills to make it comfortable. Nearing the end, I see another competitor in the distance. Focusing on the silhouette far ahead, I try reel her in. Cresting a small hill, I see the end of my leg, I have moved within 50 yards of my competitor, pull out the baton and yell to Eric (my teammate) to catch her.

We exchange the baton and I come to slow walk, sucking air, and over joyed that I have covered the six miles in 44 minutes. Again, I down lots of water, bananas, Cliff Bars, snacks, Peanut M&M's and get to ride through hilly Tar Hollow with my teammates as we complete our second mission. I'm so, so tired, but I can't sleep. I can only sit there like a zombie, cold and worn out and watch from our vehicle. A few hours later, as we reach van transition #2, I get out and great the arrival of our first team at my former high school Chillicothe Southeastern (though when I attended years ago, it was in a different location and went by the name Richmond Dale Southeastern).

The Traffic Panthers at van transition #2

at Southeastern High School

Van #1 then begins their third and final mission as Tom finishes leg #20, we in van #2 now have a few more hours to chill. We head back to homebase and have about three hours to relax. Once there, some showered then slept. I showered (the hot shower was a godsend) and again closed my eyes, only sleeping mentally. I thought falling asleep completely would put me at a disadvantage as my toughest leg was just ahead. I get up a little earlier than the others, put things together and down some water, bananas, muffins and what not as I stretch to keep loose.

We drive separately to the finish line at Ohio University - Chillicothe so we could head out as we pleased afterwards, then load up in van #2 towards the end of the first group's venture and the start of our third mission, the final legs of the race, at Open Door Fellowship church.

By this time, it is a bright sunny afternoon, around 4pm, and warm - 60 degrees. Though I still have running tights covering my legs, only for the fact after ten miles with little rest, my muscles were tight and wanting to cramp. The tights kept the legs warm as I lubricated with a diet of water and bananas. Ahead of me is a 6 1/2 mile route taking me through Patton Hill, by far my toughest leg with 700 feet of elevation. The good thing...I get to comeback down the other side, the bad part...actually getting up there.

Leg #26, my final run

I stay moving and stretching for 30 to 40 minutes, then Patricia comes around the corner. Our third exchange takes place and I'm off. I notice my body is tired as I have been awake for 24 hours as my teammates & I have circled Ross County by van (Honda Pilot). My route starts flat and I'm able to pick up some speed and pass a competitor who is creeping along - yeah, he knows what's ahead. This may have been his way of regretting what he was about to do.

I had studied the map and know what to expect. Small hills at first, tight turns, bigger hills, a 90 degree turn to the right, more rolling hills, a 90 degree turn (again) to the right, then a long, constant step ladder climb.

My legs are on fire and my pace is snail-like. I try not to look at the crest of the hill in front of me. Instead,  I glance forward to judge the distance then stare back at the ground near my feet and focus on a breathing rhythm: in the nose, out of the mouth. Not staring at the top allowed me to avoid thinking too much about how far I had to go (and how much I was hurting), it was tough enough fighting my inner urge to stop running. At this point, the incline had my pace slow enough that it could be mistaken for walking. I had driven this route thousands of times, but running it - I thought - would be moronic. Damn it...I'm a moron.

Before too long the top came into view and it was comforting to pass the driveway belonging to some friends, The Wilbanks family. They had put a sign out front to encourage runners, this made me smile and was a true signal that it was all down hill from here. Using my arms to steady my upper body, I let my legs go with the flow of the twisting and turning 700 foot descent. And suddenly I can see Chillicothe and it's iconic, giant candy can colored paper mill smoke stack in the distance, a wonderful sight to see.

Reaching flat terrain, I pick up the pace and notice a competitor in the distance. Just like before, I focus on the dark silhouette and try to catch up. By now my body is cursing at me like sailor, persevering, I reach that once dark silhouette and I pass her. As I do, I stick out my hand and we high five just as we enter Chillicothe proper. She, too, conquered the giant hill and deserved some props.

Moments later I find the chute indicating the end of leg 26 and see Eric patiently waiting. I pass the baton to my teammate and slow to a trot, then to a walk. Breathing hard enough to be mistaken for hyperventilating, my body is fatigued but my mind is celebrating that my 16.6 miles in a 17 hour period have ended. Alas, I have conquered massive Patton Hill - and its climb - in 47 minutes.

Tom in front, the rest of us trailing, in the same spot where

we began 25 hours and 150 miles later

My van #1 teammates now each have three and four mile routes through the streets of Ohio's First Capital till we reach the end at OU-C. There, we meet up with van #2 and wait for Tom to finish the 30th and final leg.

Patiently waiting, he comes into view and we join him to cross the finish line together. We celebrate by getting our Buck Fifty medals from the finish line crew and complimentary box of a dozen Crispie Creme donuts. It took about three seconds to inhale the best tasting donut that has ever touched my lips, and yes, my body was screaming for more. I was so hungry and needed any kind of nourishment  I could find...except bananas. If I don't eat another freakin' banana for the next five years - my life will be complete.

We finished a little later than our goal, but no cared. We finished, no one quit, that was all we really wanted to achieve. We then congratulated one another and many left right away as they were tired and had family to see, events to attend & other engagements calling for them.

Most of the Traffic Panthers,

posing at the finish

Of the 38 total teams, we may have beaten five maybe six of them (if that). It was nice to know, but it didn't matter. We were fatigued, worn out, mentally drained, hungry, thirsty, sore and - most of all - relieved. Well, maybe, also a little ticked at Mark for getting all us into this then skipping town for the entire thing, but he knows the time to pay the piper will be coming soon...VERY soon (at least Susan, who had to back out due to illness, was there to watch, support and offer food to us).

Today, the following day - Sunday, April 9th -, I am sore from the waist down. I slept in till 9am and have not moved outside of my apartment here in the metropolis of Marion, Ohio. I have done nothing constructive other than what you are reading now. I'm still in clothes I threw on when I got up and my empty coffee cup is on the table next to me. It has moved though, it is off to the side and the coaster it was on is occupied by a Columbus Brewing Company IPA and it is now 5:15pm.

Proof of my laziness,

Whiskey & Jameson

say hi.

The same can't be said for Traffic Panthers Van #1 Teammate Gary. He decided to continue with his plans to run the Athens Half Marathon this morning, finishing 12th. Gary - no one likes a show off.

Oh, before leaving yesterday, I was kind of pushed into the awards ceremony by some teammates. Little did I know, The Buck Fifty Race Director Dave Huggins, and race committee, had a surprise for me.

Me with my snazzy Buck Fifty finishers medal

and "Do You Still Run?" plaque, etched slate

with an old barn wood frame...killer.

On a whim, when I started running again to train for The Buck Fifty back in August, the only thing that kept me going was the thought that if I wrote about it that would be an incentive to continue running (and not give up and tell Mark to suck it). Keeping track of my progress over the last nine months, and/or lack thereof, and sharing it with everyone has been amusing to me.

Apparently, Mr. Huggins and company have been appreciative of my efforts to keep everyone laughing at themselves (and me) for attempting to be the athletes we once were. I was totally blown away when I was presented with a plaque thanking me for doing what comes natural to me, being an idiot and letting everyone know about it.

I had kept in touch with Mr. Huggins and Jason Rhoades for several months, but had never met them - this weekend changed that and I'm - we - are better for it. Thank you Dave, Jason and all who assisted in this past weekend's event. This inaugural event is one to remember, but I can't tell you if I will be doing it again. Some of my teammates talked about next year, some just gave us dirty looks. For me, it is just too early to tell and my body hates me. We need to time to recuperate.

Finishers medal and super cool

"Do You Still Run?" plaque.

This was definitely more than just an experience. It was a lesson and a test of self-reflection, of determination and a reminder that living in the past will get you nowhere - no matter how much of that past you would like to redo or change: its over, create something new and (hopefully) better.

Preparing for this event helped ease my mind and inner being of something, and someone, I lost along the way (well, actually, she - the girlfriend - just simply packed up her things and left suddenly in January. Running has been my escape). Or did I really lose something or them? Maybe a return to running was the subtle message that you have reached the end. Painful and sad, but people and their needs and wants change...that is something you, or the two of you, cannot reverse - no matter how much you try, say or do the right things. Though, I would have liked to have been able to say "Goodbye" to her or at least have her say it to me, but the time for it is something that - too - has passed. She has a whole new life now. No reason to dwell, that's what the 2 1/2 years of memories are for I guess.

Thanks for everything E - good luck and take care. From everything I am or hope to be, I wish you the best...and I know its falling on deaf ears, but for what its worth: Goodbye E and...zhoom.

So, will running stay now that this ridiculous and provocative adventure/lesson/life event has passed? I'm not sure, though if it does it will not be at the level of the last nine months - then again - if our Absent Captain Mark is still eager that could be a different story.

"Most obstacles melt away when we make up our minds to walk boldly through them" ~ Orison Swett

Here's to venturing forward into life's unknown. I'm 41 and haven't a clue as to what happens next - just me, my cat roommates Jameson and Whiskey and...whomever and whatever may be.

So, friends, now you know the answer to that long, drawn out, ridiculous question....Yes, I do still run.

Run on my friends.

(Team Traffic Panthers: Greg, Gary, Mike, Mark, Susan, Chris, Patricia, Josh, Eric, Tom, Kevin, Dave, Dan and yours truly)

Final Team Times for the Inaugural Buck Fifty Relay Race. Thanks to all of the teams who participated with us this past weekend and we hope to see you next year on Friday April 13th 2018.

1 17:14:34 Appalachian Alpha Team
2 19:04:55 GoLBC
3 21:04:19 Mostly Above Average Ironmen
4 21:57:53 TYLER'S LIGHT
5 22:17:34 Chafing The Dream
6 22:49:19 Quixote Goes
7 22:51:03 Your Pace or Mine
8 23:07:45 Scioto River Ramblers
9 23:09:54 Got The Runs
10 23:40:46 Uhrig Financial
11 23:52:49 Superbad
12 23:58:30 Scioto Rangers
13 23:59:59 Better Last Than Never
14 24:06:14 Double Black Diamond Demons
15 24:08:11 Transplant Trail Blazers
16 24:08:30 X Factor
17 24:17:29 Born To Run #CBus
18 24:36:24 Traffic Panthers*****
19 24:36:42 Road Warriors
20 25:03:56 2 Slow to win, 2 dumb to quit
21 25:11:12 Misfits & Mommas
22 25:17:25 CRC Runners
23 25:25:15 Sole Mates
24 25:53:13 D.A.D.S.
25 26:12:19 Atomic Credit Union
26 26:15:15 get in the van, I have a plan
27 26:22:17 WTB
28 26:23:34 Anytime Fitness
29 26:46:26 Worst Pace Scenario
30 27:18:50 Huntington Huntsmen
31 27:57:41 Hardly Fast, Hardly Furious
32 27:57:41 Rucking Funners
33 27:57:41 Relay First Timers!
34 27:59:35 McKell's Marathoners
35 19:58:32 Chill Runners
36 D.N.F. Team Manimal
37 D.N.F. The Photo Bombers
38 D.N.F. Cops For Kids

The Buck Fifty 150 Mile, 24 Hour, 10 Person Relay

Step 1 - Do You Still Run? Part 1 Getting Started: COMPLETED

Step 2 - Do You Still Run? Part 2 Being Consistent, Make Progress: COMPLETED

Step 3 - Do You Still Run? Part 3 Increasing Mileage: COMPLETED

Step 4 - Do You Still Run? Part 4 Ho, Ho, Ho-ly Crap.

Step 5 - Do You Still Run? Part 5 Run (Not Bud) Wiser, Enjoy Your Craft (Beer)

Step 6 - Do You Still Run? Part 6 When Nature Attacks

Step 7 - Do You Still Run? Part 7: Find Your Pleasant State

Criminalin' is Hard

HUNTINGTON BANK ROBBERY PLANS:

1. Don't wear a disguise and look directly into security camera.
2. Hand threatening misspelled note to teller
3. Get cash
4. Leave paper plate, with handwritten directions on it, behind
5. Flee on foot
6. Run 370 feet away (two doors down); enter building and leave behind threatening misspelled note that was given to the teller (which is written on a deposit slip belonging to that bank) at Craig's mailbox for him to find.
7. Leave building and flee some more
8. Run six times the amount as before (.35 miles or 1848 feet)
9. Realize you are out of shape after traveling almost an entire half-mile (.43 miles or 2270.4 feet to be exact)
10. Knock on friend's door and chill out with the wad of cash while waiting for the cops to visit and give you the great news that you look the same in person as you do on camera.
11. Wonder where you went wrong

Green dot at the top: crime scene

The "B" dot: note found (my place)

Dot on the left: suspect's hidden in plain sight lair

Yes, my friends, this happened.

Woman arrested in Huntington bank robbery

The above plan may be confusing, but don't fret - I am here to fill in the gaps. Ahem...here goes...

This past Wednesday, March 29th, I come home for lunch. Since it is a day I work till 8pm, my lunch time is approximately 4pm and with some traffic it takes about 5 minutes to get there. I live about a half-mile from my library work place, so heading home for an hour is a treat. Once there, I go in the side door near the parking lot and head to the front of my building. My apartment is on the front end and I always take a quick detour to check my mailbox which is just beyond my apartment door in the building's front vestibule.

Now, I have neighbors who don't know any better and leave their junk mail in the wall basket near the mail slots that is typically used for larger packages or parcels, instead of throwing it away. They also, sometimes, simply tear or wad it up and leave it on the floor or toss it out the door onto the sidewalk or yard. This annoys me to no end and I throw it away for them.

On this particular day, I open the inside vestibule door and find I have one piece of mail and relieved to know that it is not a bill of some kind. Though, much to my chagrin, I do pick up - yet - another wadded up piece of paper from the floor. "Jackasses", I think to myself as I shake my head in disgust, close the door and head to my apartment.

Whiskey and Jameson

Greeted by Whiskey and Jameson (my feline roommates) as I stroll into building unit #1, careful to avoid stepping on them as they dart in and out of my path to the kitchen, I drop my mail and wad of paper on my the table in order retrieve treats for my orange and gray friends. When I notice they are satisfied with their human slave's daily duties, I am free to go examine the discarded piece of paper I brought in.

To my surprise, it is not a piece of junk mail. It is a Huntington Bank Deposit slip and it isn't blank. It doesn't have any amount or account information written on it, rather it has a note - like a weird message in a bottle-type thing left for me to find. And that somewhat legible message reads something like, "Hand over all the money in your drawer and don't act sucpicous."

I laugh and roll my eyes thinking about 25 or 30 years ago, I would have taken a deposit slip and written something similar on it (though...with correct punctuation and spelling) and left it somewhere for someone to find just to mess with them. The same, I assumed, as whomever left it here. I then eat lunch and head back to work, passing the Huntington Bank Branch that is within a rock's throw from my building.

At 7pm, I take my 15 minute break and head to my desk. To pass the time, I hop onto my computer and browse the web to see what news, events and general what not is taking place in the world. I make my way to the brain rot that is Facebook and see a Marion Star article has been shared by a few of my fellow time wasters. The article is title, "Huntington Bank robbed in Marion".

The phrase You have got to be f-ing kidding me not only crossed my mind, but was said audibly as I stared at the screen wide-eyed and in general disbelief. Once my fifteen minutes are up, I head back downstairs to work and detail to my coworkers my fun story - they had the same reaction I did.

In unison, "What are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna have to call the police non-emergency line when I get home," came out of my mouth with a mix of frustration and wonderment of how stupid life's events can be.

My building, "The Frontenac"

Back at "The Frontenac", (that's the name on the front door of my building - though I think it's from years ago when the building was used for something other than an apartment building) I hang out for few moments, then break down and call Marion City's finest. I calmly and casually explain to the female dispatcher what the crime fairy left for me, telling her I was alerted to the bank robbery after the fact. She restated some of things I said for clarification and asked if I still had the note. When I relayed that I still had it in my possession, that's when it hit her....

The horror in her voice could not be mistaken, "Wait...you picked it up...??!!"

"Well, yes, I didn't know what it was...I thought it was trash," I said apologetically but with the full disdain of - How the hell else do you think I was able know what it was!? Apparently, my x-ray vision doesn't work well on an empty stomach (Superman knows my pain).

She takes notes and tells me they will send people over in a few minutes. A little freaked out now, I use a sheet of paper and a piece of junk mail to clasp the bank note between them and set it aside. Not wanting to touch it further, I casually wondered if I should put it in a ziplock bag for preservation.

About a half-hour later, a cruiser arrives and I meet them at The Frontenac vestibule crime scene. I tell the officer and detective the quick story of how I came in possession of the evidence, then lead them inside to show them the great penmanship I discovered. And straight out of any TV series or movie, the two pull out rubber gloves, slide them on and examine the scribbles - then slide it into a paper bag.

The one officer laughs and turns away, I'm thinking he doesn't believe my story.

But he looks back at me, "We asked the teller if there was anything on the note that was significant, like the spelling, that could help but she couldn't remember anything of that nature." He is poking fun at the unique spelling of "suspicious" on the deposit slip. You don't see it written as 'sucpicous' everyday. Obviously, the mastermind was trying to throw everybody off with her own phonetic spelling of the word.

They have me repeat my story and ask if anyone new had moved into the building recently (and they have), then show me still frames of their person of interest. I didn't recognize her face, but her general make up was familiar. I show them where the building's storage units are located and they take my contact information, thank me for my time and head for other parts of the complex.

Before I knew it, I see a pair of cruisers and a police SUV in our parking lot to along with several more officers. I hear them knocking on doors and milling about the building and the lot outside for some time before moving on. And just like that, all is quite again.

I eat dinner and eventually head to bed thinking 'how do I get involved in the weirdest situations on such a frequent basis?'

Don't believe me? You should read some previous posts, they would be beyond the running diaries and stories I made up because I think I'm funny (I've realized I'm not, so...thanks). As result, you may need to scroll back a little ways - but it's worth it.

Anyway, if you have clicked and read the first link above, the culprit was captured the following day (Thursday, March 30th) without incident. I don't know the level of involvement, or any at all, of those in my building but everyone seems to still be here. And it makes for a great story, which is why I'm telling you.

Summer vacation?

We joked at work on Thursday that my reputation around Marion would get back to the police and they may put a stop to, or hold up, the passport I applied for last month thinking I was somehow involved and attempting to flee the country. Or if my discovery led to the suspect's arrest, what kind of reward I would be offered - I suggested if they offered to buy my plane ticket to Costa Rica (I'm hoping to go this summer), I'd call us square and it would save me from a huge dent on my credit card.

Yeah, I'm thinking I need to start saving some cash...and where is my passport??

Do You Still Run? - Part 7: Find Your Pleasant State

When the best laid plans go awry, one can only focus on making things right. Or, if that is just simply not a possibility, you have to make yourself right and find your pleasant state of being.

Not everything will flow perfectly in line, some things just don't work. Whether its work, play, running, relationships - you name it - they don't always work well together. Rather than dwell on what isn't working, or didn't turn out the way you thought, you have to move forward. For myself, I haven't been the greatest at relationships, specifically, romantic relationships. When they end they can, at times, be debilitating.

East Pleasant and South State in

Marion, Ohio

In what seems like the 100th time, I fell into this category recently. My only real saving grace is that I have learned, sort of, how to better deal with such situations. Work and running have been my coping mechanism

s, with running being my major escape from reality. Since I was pulled back into the running thing last August, I have started and finished every run in front of my apartment. Each run has been followed by a cool down stroll for about half a block before turning around and heading home.

I laughed the first time I noticed it a few months ago, but it really hit home in January when I suddenly found myself single again. The turn around point for that cool down I mentioned, its at the corner of Pleasant and State.

Those days when my overactive mind keeps wanting to run in the wrong direction and its hard to just simply BE, they have always ended with a run and a walk to this corner. The workout allows me to sweat out the frustration and the pilgrimage to these cross streets are my personal Buddha. It reminds me to move on, the past is the past and to look forward and find my pleasant state.

Even after those less than stellar days, glancing up at these street signs make me smile. It makes me laugh, realizing how much time I can (and have) wasted thinking about the woulda, shoulda, coulda of what I have and haven't done. Whether its regarding my professional life, running, the general future or ALL of my relationships - all I can do is move on. And hopefully learn from them, I am continually growing up, and at 41 years of age, I am nowhere near "grown up". I will likely always be growing up in some way or another.

Get a discount on your next pair of @shadyrays, Next Generation Shades for 24/7 Action, by using my promo code: SIMPSON https://shadyrays.com/  We also secure 11 meals to fight hunger through Feeding America with every order placed.

Coincidentally, the other end of the block I live on is at the corner of Church and State. So, I live in between finding my personal nirvana (pleasant state) or succumbing to the norm and following the unwritten rules we are told that - in not so many words - must be followed in order to be a generally good human being (church and state).

East Church and South State in

Marion, Ohio

Well, I'm running again at middle age after more than a decade of not running at all - which isn't normal. I have regained the better part of the love/hate relationship with my older muscles and they are (for the most part) cooperating with the challenge of running The Buck Fifty 150 Mile Team Relay in my hometown of Chillicothe, Ohio come April 7th and 8th. My part consists of 16.5 miles (three separate legs) within a 24 hour period.

Along with getting a very consistent 6:30 to 6:45 pace for five to seven miles runs, there has been some strength training which has aided the ability to maintain that pace. And I haven't deviated from that script, which is also not normal. I have, in the past, become bored with a regime and let it go by the wayside. This, though, I am determined to be more than just a participant. I want to prove to myself that am not a complete slacker (a little bit of a slacker, but not a huge lazy bum).

Here is the map of The Buck Fifty Race 

.

The eight months of training have been peppered with races every so often to break up the monotony of just pursuing personal records and milestones. This month's challenge was the St. Patrick's Day 4 Miler at Kinsale in Powell, Ohio. This had to be a better experience than last month's 10K trudge through the rain soaked, mud trough along the trails of Alum Creek State Park (not your normal race).

Our unseasonably warm, early spring reverted to the norm on this day a bit. We had an overcast sky and lite drizzle most of the afternoon, but luckily it moved on prior to our 6pm start time. Breezy and 39 degrees meant that gloves were a must, but otherwise decent running gear would suit just fine. I made my way to the front of the starting pack and chat with some of the older gentlemen who run this race on a regular basis. One of them jokingly motioned to the runner behind me, a kid who looked like he was about 15.

"He's gonna kick a our ass", I was told.

The start/finish line from the

finishing side

Well, he definitely looked the part. Dark green running shorts with a light green singlet tucked in around a tiny waste and stretching like I used to do when I was running competitively. The count down began, the horn went off and like clock work the 80 pound flash of green darted ahead of everyone. I wasn't about to keep up with him, but he did do us a favor by being the rabbit needed to get our chilly legs warmed up. Probably a half mile in and my crappy eyesight could only see a blip of fluorescent green in the distance.

I thought I was the only one blown away by his "pedal to the metal" scheme, but just before the first mile marker another runner creeps up behind me and once he gets in my peripheral, he glances at his watch - looks up and squints to search for the ever-fading green dot in front of us and forces out a breathless, "What the hell?!"

"Tell me about it", was the my short and sweet reply.

We continued on and unlike the leprechaun flash, I was able to keep this guy in my line of sight the rest of the way. There were two more gentleman who made there way past me, one at about the three mile mark and again with about a half mile to go. At this time, I didn't want to chase anyone down - I just wanted to keep my pacing and they gave me something to focus on as the cold air began minimizing my lung capacity.

Making our way off the golf course and back to the clubhouse and fitness center, I turn the corner to the finish and begin searching for the clock. My watery eyes find it through the headwind that's pounding my face and I see that I'm under 25:00 minutes as I cross the end line. Grabbing a bottle of water from a race volunteer, then tearing off the lid and downing the liquid refreshment, I raise my left wrist to glance at my watch and see out of the corner of my eye that I finished at 24:52. I was very pleased to know that I had obliterated my goal of 25:30. And the fifth place finish was just icing on the cake.

Full results: 
https://results.chronotrack.com/m/ctlive/#26981/race/67261/715129/135087

(FYI: the kid who took off like a bolt of lightning, he finished in 21:15)

Slowly, other runners begin trickling in and made there way to the after party in the heated circus tent-like set up complete with food, beer, live band and just general camaraderie for the exhausted competitors - many of whom were in their best St. Patrick's Day costume or flare.

Being among the first to finish meant that I was among the first wave of folks into the after party. There were a handful of tables with seats and bar-style table tops scattered throughout the venue. I yanked off the FREE BEER ticket off of my bib number, grabbed my much deserved suds and manned one of the table tops, dropping my bag of belongings at my feet.

My finishers medal and

complimentary beer.

As the finishers filed in, the available tables and seating dried up quickly. Noticing several people looking in earnest for a home base, I caught the attention of some wondering eyes and motioned to my table. The three friends were thankful to find a spot to chill. The three - Lynn, Jenn and Kay - were decked out in full St. Patrick's garb, including oversized, bright green, leprechaun top hats...full bright green beards and plastic, black-rimmed eyeglasses. They were dressed essentially the same and generally looked similar, it helped that all of the race bibs had your first name on them so it was nice to be able to differentiate until we were used to one another..

I had not planned to spend much time at the after party, but Lynn, Jenn and Kay let me tag along and we had our own little party with a number of others joining our dancing, singing and goofing off for the evening. I didn't really know anyone there, but it was nice to find some like minds to hangout with and for that, I am thankful. As we left, I heard one of them say to me, "See you next year!" That made me smile and as much as that sounds like a great plan, I couldn't tell you what I'm doing next week - let alone next year. Though, if there is an opportunity to run that race next year, I will it do without a second thought.

I doubt I will see or hear from those three again, but they made my night...No, they made my weekend.  I don't remember that last time I had that much fun. Thank You Lynn, Jenn and Kay for including a complete, goofy stranger in your quest to be the life of the party. Wherever you are, high fives all around....and seriously, THANK YOU.

Coming back down to Earth, I don't know if I have found my pleasant state, but the pursuit is getting ever more bright and promising. For example, a couple of weeks ago, I happened to come across a friend of mine whom I had not spoken to in a couple of years. Well, rather, she found me and reached out to say "hey". Back then I think we connected because we were at points in our lives where just having a like mind to feed off of was a pacifier for being in places we didn't want to be at that time.

Now in different - and better - places, we've started a habit of grabbing dinner, hanging out and generally catching up with one another. What makes it excitedly odd is that we haven't skipped a beat, those couple of years had no affect on relating to one another at all. It isn't something that just simply happens everyday, somebody appearing out of the blue - its not normal, but that's okay because neither of us are. (Yeah, there isn't a theme here at all.)

Speaking of odd, it is now less than three weeks and counting till The Buck Fifty 150 Mile Team Relay. How in the hell has my thinking of "Oh, it's nine months away" turned into this vortex of nerves for an ambitious, yet provocative (and probably stupid), desire to be even more eccentric and bizarre than I am now? That is just simply not normal, but that's how I like it, its how I prefer it.

This, now, is my pleasant state of being...just let go...and breathe...

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,
And (Ross County) miles to go before I sleep,
And (Ross County) miles to go before I sleep...

Step 1 - Do You Still Run? Part 1 Getting Started: COMPLETED

Step 2 - Do You Still Run? Part 2 Being Consistent, Make Progress: COMPLETED

Step 3 - Do You Still Run? Part 3 Increasing Mileage: COMPLETED

Step 4 - Do You Still Run? Part 4 Ho, Ho, Ho-ly Crap.

Step 5 - Do You Still Run? Part 5 Run (Not Bud) Wiser, Enjoy Your Craft (Beer)

Step 6 - Do You Still Run? Part 6 When Nature Attacks

Do You Still Run? - Part 6: When Nature Attacks

Having an extremely mild winter in Ohio has left plenty of time to run and practice for The Buck Fifty without having to deal with snow, ice, sleet, and slush. We have had our fair share of rain that will freeze for a short time, but we've had so many 45 degree (or higher) days that it only leaves a mess after the fact.

Lots of races, lots of mud

It was nice to see that the Rocks and Roots Winter Trail Series in February was going to be mild and not overly snowy or cold. As a matter of fact, that week we had two days of temperatures reaching 60, which is nuts for Ohio for this time of the year. We did have some snow at the beginning of the week, but it quickly melted and then we had some rain and it stayed in the mid 40s. We knew, as a result, that the trail would be less than ideal.

The trail series starts with a 50 miler, followed by a 50K, a 30K, then a 20K and finishes with a 10K - the race I planned to take part in. It did rain the night before and mist the morning of as the 50 milers took off. About two hours later the 50Kers and 30K group, fifteen minutes later the 20K group and then our 10K fifteen minutes after that. SO...a dirt trail....soaked with melted snow, and rain and mist with several runners of all types trampling the route....THEN...we get to start.

To say that it was muddy would be the equivalent of saying the ocean MIGHT be salty. SO...SO...SO..MUCH mud, about a quarter mile into the 10K it was myself and two other gentleman struggling to keep upright. I did start a little fast, but there was a large group and I didn't want to struggle getting around them on the small trail so I did take off faster than usual. WOW...footing...there wasn't any. You slipped, slid, tip-toed, hydroplaned and used trees and saplings as you passed to sway your momentum the way you wanted to go.

Get a discount on your next pair of @shadyrays, Next Generation Shades for 24/7 Action, by using my promo code: SIMPSON https://shadyrays.com/  We also secure 11 meals to fight hunger through Feeding America with every order placed.

The first creek was river-like, rushing and knee high. We ran through it like nothing, which was fun...until it hit us that there was well over five miles to go. As I began to slow my pace, one of those trailing close behind slides past me...and shortly thereafter, the second. But that was it, I could keep an eye on them to make sure I could see where to go...because after awhile...everything was just wet and muddy and looked all the same.

The Start

Then we began passing the slower 20Kers, dodging them and using muscles you never knew you had to keep from face planting or tumbling down a hill into Alum Creek was like no other running chore I had ever experienced. Yes, I have run in mud...but this was just stupid. No footing what so ever and even the slightest incline meant using grass, trees and an unconscionable sense of balance - while on your hands and knees - to keep from falling backward creating a tidal wave of yourself and mud.

I eventually lost sight of the first guy who passed me, but kept within my crappy eyesight of the second dude....freakishly tall Fred. Yes, I did discover his name later and it wasn't Fred...but I'm 6-3...I had to cock my head back to look him in the eye. So my nickname for him was warranted.

As we continued to dodge slower runners, hurdle downed trees (there were a lot of them), jumping over creeks and strategically sliding across mud covered wooden foot bridges, I found that I was gaining on Freakish Fred. Though, each time I got close enough to maybe challenge him we had to crawl up a hill or I simply lost footing and slid to my knees. The second half of race, this happened several times. No real crash and burn, but those just quick enough to take your momentum away.

Once we passed the water station, that signaled about two miles to go and despite my efforts I stayed in third (out of 159 competitors). Coming around the bend and crossing the finish line, I was exhausted but equally as sore.  That's what happens when you overexert some muscles in order to keep your balance and from crashing into trees, crowds of 20Kers or thorn bushes hiding just off the path. My Garmin Watch tells me my finishing time as 57:40, about 15 minutes slower than my 10K PR. I did, though, win my age group (whatever that means, I guess).

The full race results: https://results.chronotrack.com/event/results/event/event-26505

What the hell did I

just do?

There was no humanly way possible today to go faster than that, I would have had to have been an Olympic level swimmer to cut through the mud quicker than I had.

We had water, snacks, Gatorade, soup, bananas, granola bars...you name it...for us at the finish, along with fire pit blazing away to ward of the chill. Soaked and muddied to the bone, when you finished that slight breeze turned your entire body frigid. I had a cup of hot chocolate walking to my car, but my cold hands were shaking so much I think I spilled most of it. Also, the fire had dried the caked on mud, which I hear is good for your complexion. It isn't though, good for your car. I did bring extra clothes, but that stuff was falling off everywhere.

Warming up on the drive home - barefoot with the heat cranked up to "Solar Flares in your face" - and hitting the shower at my apartment were a godsend. I spent just as much time removing the mud from my legs as I did getting it out of the floor of my bathtub. And I'm not one to freak out about a messy car, but I did have to vacuum it out later on due to the amount of dried dirt clods that came off of my person on the way home. Apparently, swamp thing enjoys my 2015 Volkswagen Passat.

I halfway thought this is what it could be like when The Buck Fifty 150 Mile Team Relay comes around in Chillicothe in April, but alas...a team meeting of the "Traffic Panthers" (its a long story, I will explain later) earlier in the week tabbed me with three road based legs of the race. So I get to avoid Scioto Trails, Great Seal State Park and Tar Hollow - I grew up visiting these places and miss them...but if it is rainy, snowing or wet that weekend...I'm glad I'm not one of the poor saps that has to deal with it.

So....six months of training in and two short months to go....hopefully I can keep my body intact.

Finishers Medal and

mud caked legs

Step 1 - Do You Still Run? Part 1 Getting Started: COMPLETED

Step 2 - Do You Still Run? Part 2 Being Consistent, Make Progress: COMPLETED

Step 3 - Do You Still Run? Part 3 Increasing Mileage: COMPLETED

Step 4 - Do You Still Run? Part 4 Ho, Ho, Ho-ly Crap.

Step 5 - Do You Still Run? Part 5 Run (Not Bud) Wiser, Enjoy Your Craft (Beer)

Soaked socks removed,
mud demarcation line.

Heart of a Lion, Mind of a Fool

She left without so much as a goodbye, well, a verbal goodbye. She was never one for confrontation or similar awkward situations. Just a short note, fifteen maybe twenty words. Something like:

"I'm moving back to my parents', I don't want to do this anymore. I'm sorry. I will get the rest of my stuff when I can."

                                                                                            Elizabeth

She had left on a Friday with her mom to visit an aunt, or at least that's what I was told. Over the next few days, we traded a handful of texts and pictures. On that Sunday, she found out her work schedule changed and would be staying through Monday. That Monday afternoon as I leave work for lunch, turning my phone back on, I have a text that says, "I'm back in town, be home soon." Shortly thereafter, at home eating lunch she comes in our apartment looking tired. Not bad, just...well...worn out almost.

I hugged her, told her I missed her and asked how the trip was, but a moment or two later it was time to head back to work. I kissed her goodbye, said I loved her and did this stupid goofy thing we do closing the door ever so slowly and staring at one another between the crack of the door till it closes with dumb looks our faces.

And that was it.

When I came home after work, I found the note. Her stuff packed in bags and the big stuff - the stuff one would need immediately or needed to have with them more sooner than later - were gone.

I sat confused for a few minutes, then my heart began to race and my breathing became labored. I called her, it just rang. Again, it just rang. I sent a text, no answer (we typically get back to each other rather quickly), I called her dad and sounding freaked out I'm sure, I asked, "Is Elizabeth okay?" He responded, in his down-to-Earth, nothing gets me all that excited demeanor, with, "She said she broke it off with you and went to work, she didn't seem upset."

Wait...what?! What just happened...but...no....this can't be happening, can it?

Stunned, I sent a Facebook messenger note asking her what's going on and I get back, "I left you a note." That note seemed cryptic and I didn't understand.

She followed with, "I'm sorry, I'm a bitch." There were few more words to it, but....that was basically it. And, yes, she said the quoted words you just read, that's not me thinking out loud.

I didn't know what to do. I was scared, discombobulated, couldn't think, couldn't eat.....I was thrown off pace. She isn't a bitch (sure, if you are an ass to her, she will act like one, but don't we all) and why is this happening?

For the next few days she was a ghost. I didn't contact her again for awhile because I was frustrated and mad at her, but all the while heartsick and missed her dearly. I'm not needy, and didn't want to seem like it, but damn it....I missed her a ton.

I saw her leaving what was "our place" on another lunch break three days later. She was putting her TV in her car as I was pulling in, our eyes met...but it was a stone cold glare that pierced through my soul. I wanted to stop her, wrap my arms around her, tell her that I love her and to come back home...but that glare...it was fierce and it wanted no part of me.

Thinking she would come back in, I waited a moment and looked out the window. She was in the driver's seat and the car was running. I quickly sent a text asking her if she was coming back in, she writes back, "Why?". "So we can talk", I said. "I said what I needed to say, I don't want to talk about it anymore.", she replied.

I begged her to talk to me, she would have none of it. The next day or two I sent a number of messages and a letter, asking for us to try to start over again...you know, from scratch. I stopped by her house (she wasn't there, her dad didn't know where she was), and even drove by her place of work (against my better "I swear I'm not a stalker" judgment) and she wasn't there, and called a couple of times with no answer.

Finally, a couple of Facebook messenger posts between us took place that following Sunday morning, I poured my heart out (I had to do it this way, she wouldn't talk to me otherwise and avoiding having to look at me like a person at all costs). And I don't mean I made crap up, I FINALLY dug deep, threw it all in. She understood and appreciated my forthcoming, but she's way too smart a girl for that...I was probably two years too late.

I had been a fool, a bit scared, a little apprehensive, a lot stupid, even more ignorant and ultimately, I was completely selfish. And why you ask? Because I was afraid, afraid of losing something of myself. And just exactly what is that "something"? As embarrassing as it is to say, I really, truly don't know.

It was always about me, never about her. Even when I actually tried to make it about Elizabeth, it somehow came back to me. I have to have some sort of chemical imbalance that just drove the best thing that has happened to me since I can remember out my front door. And out of my life.

A young, attractive woman with an interest in getting to know me - WITHOUT ANY EFFORT ON MY PART OTHER THAN JUST EXISTING - and I essentially piss on it. Wow, I have no excuses for what I do and/or why I do it.

I can sit here and tell you how I feel and what I'm feeling, but the real detail is about her. How I made her feel and what I couldn't do for her as she did for me. She didn't get the return from me that she deserved for the time, effort, love, generosity and simple giving of one's self that she gave to me without hesitation. She was all in, no questions asked.

Even with the note she left and her leaving on what seemed like in a flash. She did it, didn't look back, didn't give in, decided she was done and her subconscious blocked any and all of my efforts to get another chance. I could never be that strong, but she is amazing to me in the way she can give of herself, then take it all back with the same mindset and fortitude.

God, I wish I had that wherewithal.

No, I don't believe the decision was on whim, made quickly or without tremendous thought.. It was over time, she grew tired, frustrated, lonely and was in a place she didn't want to be anymore - because of me. She thought hard, kept herself up at night (even moving out to the sofa some nights just to get comfortable), dealt with additional stress and anxiety to go along with the small anxiety issue she had to begin with. Work became harder and looking at me (and wanting to scream, "What the hell is wrong with you!?") came with more disinterest every day. She kept trying, and I didn't - and simply couldn't - notice.

That tired look she had on that Monday she came home from that long weekend makes sense now. She had made a decision, still not completely sure, but that decision was made. She had stepped away for a few days and thought it through. She wanted to move on with her life and do it without me. I cannot imagine how difficult a decision this was for her. Then again, I'm sure I made it that much easier. She's young, full of life, has a huge heart, big ideas and is ready for someone who will understand, make her laugh, make her smile and show her that there is more to this craziness that we live than what she's been able to experience.

She loved me and maybe still does a little, but I was holding her back and making her unhappy. And that is simply unacceptable on all levels.

It makes me sick, but she could not have made a better decision.

And all I can do is blame myself for the end of what once was our path and is now, again, just me...at 41...still trying to figure out my quirky, backwards mind and why it works the way it does.

Here it is, January 29th, a cold, flurry filled Sunday evening with a sleeping Jameson (the cat) purring away in my lap and Whiskey (the other cat) curled up in a ball on the brown rescued, yard sale chair I bought when I moved into this apartment four years ago. We are just four weeks into 2017 and I have no idea as to who I am or what it is I want or what I should look forward to. Yes, things change, things improve and people move on, I know. But damn...Elizabeth, me saying "sorry" to you, again, just doesn't do you justice.

Once I could tell how you feel by the look on your face. Reality now tells me clear that was a different time, and a different place...

Do You Still Run? - Part 5: Run (Not Bud) Wiser, Enjoy Your Craft (Beer)

It is exceptionally satisfying when you understand your mechanics and work with them. I think I have a ways to go, but I get it - I finally get it. The motivation is there and my body is responding to running (again) with a focus that, not too long ago, seemed ridiculous to me. It only took an offer (a threat) to take part in The Buck Fifty 150 Mile Relay in April.

The Buck Fifty Relay details

In high school and college it was about winning and beating opponents, which can skew your game plan. Paying attention to what others are doing robs one of the most important mantras: RUN YOUR RACE. That may be a good reason why I lost the passion for running some time back. Leave it up to being young, stupid, narrow minded, stupid, self absorbed, stupid and......did I mention stupid?

I received a Garmin watch for Christmas and with it have been able to return to the stat geek days of my youth. Keeping tabs on pace, distance and such has allowed me to run the way I want to, the way my 41 year-old can (or can muster). It was an epiphany: This is enjoyable again and its because I'm working on my race, my running, what I can do. Sure I engage with a community of runners, yes...I like to race - but I race to challenge myself. That doesn't mean I don't ever bite off more than I can chew, but I can now deal with it properly and not psyche myself out and self implode.

Get a discount on your next pair of @shadyrays, Next Generation Shades for 24/7 Action, by using my promo code: SIMPSON https://shadyrays.com/  We also secure 11 meals to fight hunger through Feeding America with every order placed.

Beer would be an example. In my teens and twenties one drank fizzy, yellow domestic beer. We drank lots of it and quickly - because it wasn't about the taste, it wasn't about simply enjoying it. It was about getting a buzz and having fun - until our bodies hit a breaking point (Dude - one word: solid - S...O...L...I...D, give me something solid or we're exiting the way we came in like Noah and the Ark riding a tidal wave of regurgitated beer and bile).

"Balls to the wall" as we used to say, a race to the finish, then deal with the aftermath.

Now, in my 40's, its something to savor. Your take your time and sip it and work through it. This allows one to experience the flavors, the chase, the process - that's craft beer. Sure, some are better than others, but you enjoy what you like and enjoy it at your own pace.

That is the difference, I have discovered, between running then and running now. Its not so much about the finish, its about the process of getting there. Even still the process is dotted with more aches and pains that tend to last way beyond the post race cool down. Longer training runs have proven that I can keep consistent for up to seven miles. With that said, of course I'm going to push the envelope and run further than I have in 15 years - it only make sense (When Egos Attack, Next at 11!).

No reason to wait to go overboard, which is exactly why I signed up for the Brokeman's Winter Warm Up eight miler on January 15th...wait, do I hear somebody playing Taps?

Half Marathoners in front, 8 milers behind, 5K-ers in the back.

The weather treated us right, it was cold - around 30, but not breezy and no precipitation falling or on the ground. The three tiered race included a half marathon - which started first, the eight miler began two minutes later followed by the 5K two minutes after that. Once our race began the major work was dodging and working our way through the marathoners who were obviously going at a slower pace. Also included were the wooden bridges along on the paved trail - they were frozen, so we did our best ballet tip toe to cross them with an occasional flailing foot as it lost its grip on the bridge floor.


About a mile and a half through it was plain to see there were three of us out front of the eight mile crowd. Still dodging a sporadic half marathoner, it was nice to have others to help keep pace. Along with me were this kid who looked about 15 and gentleman about my age. As we continued through passing water stations and 13.1 mile participants, I could feel my pace was much faster than my training - which was good. Its hard to train at a high level by yourself all the time, trying to gauge without a frame of reference.

Approaching the finish, 
exhausted

It seemed to take forever to reach the turn around point of the out and back course, though when it came about there was still just the three of us...but not for long. Probably a half-mile into the return trip the gentleman - clad in orange - suddenly blows by me and the kid whom I'm trailing. The only difference is that the kid went with him. I tried, but simply couldn't find that gear. Though I was able to keep a lengthened stride and push myself beyond simply putting it into cruise control. It was another 'sign of the times' moment with another adolescent beating me into submission, just like the 12 year-old girl did in the 5K race in December...stop laughing.

Beginning to feel the fatigue I let my mind wander in an effort to keep myself in rhythm. I haven't run anything more than 6.8 miles since I began in August and I'm now doing well with real runners at a never before attempted distance, apparently I'm doing something right. I joined a group of like-minded runners on Garmin Connect and take part in weekly challenges regarding miles run per week. We are at different levels, but it is an incentive to try and keep pace with others or at least show you, too, are putting in the effort. Creating my own routes around Marion is fun as well - a nice way to see the neighborhoods one typically drives through way to fast.

My race bid and the back of my finishers' medal.

Forcing a smile - knowing that I'm actually improving after nearly 20 years off - I can see the other two ahead of me (I mean, WAAAAY ahead of me) battling and the finish is just ahead of them. I chug along and for the last quarter mile or so I have to tell myself to push to the finish, hard to do sometimes when you don't have anyone around you.

My goal was 59:00 minutes, based on my training times and pace. At the gate, I see out of the corner of my eye the clock is at 57:50 something or other - ahead of my goal, but disappointing because I felt I as going much faster. Sucking wind, I glance at my watch - it shows I was faster than the race clock.

Half smiling/half grimacing at the folks handing out the finishers hardware I turn to see the dude in orange walking towards me - the one who blew who past me at the turn around - he, along with a woman, say, "Are you Craig?" That's when it hit me, a handful of Buck Fifty Race Teammates had planned to race today as well. Up to this point I only knew names and the man in orange (not to be confused

Fellow Traffic Panthers: Patricia, Kevin, Gary and Susan....
and me.

with the man in the yellow hat) was Gary. He, along Buck Fifty Teammate Patricia, reminded me that the race clock was set for the half marathoners who started two minutes ahead. So my watch was correct, my finishing time was 55:56 - a 7:00 mile pace -three full minutes ahead of my goal. Shortly thereafter, teammates Kevin and Susan made themselves known.

I ran the longest race I have ever been apart of and did it with flying (personal) colors - finishing 3rd. It was a shame to hear that Gary, ultimately, was also beaten by that kid who turned out not to be 15 - he was actually 14. Ahhhh...more salt in that wound - feels good....FEELS GOOD!

Some of us wanted a beer afterwards, but it was still only 9:45 in the morning, so we settled on breakfast/brunch at Bob Evans instead - the beer came after I made it home. At Gary's suggestion, I signed up for the Fantastic Frigid 5K in Westerville on January 28th. Running with folks you know can make attaining goals - and failing miserably - more enjoyable.

The Buck Fifty 150 Mile Relay is now just three months away and team Traffic Panthers is on the prowl (or...on a slow, methodical jaunt with a drink or two in hand snapchatting everything in our way. Destruction waiting to happen)!

"Six bucks and my right nut says we're not landing in Chicago" ~ Del Griffith, Planes, Trains & Automobiles


Step 1 - Do You Still Run? Part 1 Getting Started: COMPLETED

Step 2 - Do You Still Run? Part 2 Being Consistent, Make Progress: COMPLETED

Step 3 - Do You Still Run? Part 3 Increasing Mileage: COMPLETED

Step 4 - Do You Still Run? Part 4 Ho, Ho, Ho-ly Crap.

The Buck Fifty on Facebook