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

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

Sunday's runners and walkers.

Running at 40 would be much easier if you weren't constantly reminded that you are on the back end of the running spectrum.

December marks the fifth month of my effort to not look completely foolish at The Buck Fifty 150 mile relay in April. Wrangled into it by some longtime friends, I've been slowly retraining, reprogramming and reminding my body of what it once was from top to bottom. Along with running nearly everyday, I have been (and hope to continue) to run races each month to break up the monotony and give myself short term goals to achieve.

At this point in time I'm forcing myself into longer casual runs, gradually increasing my capacity for pain and suffering. Now that I have some base to work with, those hills are licking their chops eagerly awaiting to bring me back down to Earth. My longest run yet, about a week ago, of 6.2 miles felt reasonably good and had its fair share of slight inclines and "sort of" hills. Though my calf muscles paid the price for a few days thereafter, I couldn't stretch them enough to keep them from tensing up like abdominal muscles fighting a roller coaster down hill.

Finishing loop #1

The current goal on my list is to break the 20 minute 5K barrier, I've fallen just short in my previous two attempts. Having had a good week of pace training, I was hoping last Sunday's Run Santa Run 5K at Easton Town Center in Columbus would be a big step forward. Of course, it had to be stupid cold and windy - December 4th wouldn't have had it any other way. Warming up isn't - and hasn't - been an issue, its getting myself fluid quicker. It takes a few minutes, once the race starts, to work out the bugs or kinks to find a rhythm. The quicker you find it - the faster you can focus on the run. And when it's cold, it gets that much more difficult. Think like the cold starting of an engine on a frigid day...like that.

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Knowing there were a few rabbits, I was hoping to use them to help pull me along. At the gun, I felt good and it did take a few moments to get my breathing in sync with the neck down. I could definitely feel the piercing cold air as well as the rustiness in my knees and as luck would have it, the rabbits came to play.

The Suzy Favor Hamilton clone near 

the finish, I'm nowhere 

in sight....of course.

The first time through the two loop course, I had a few folks ahead of me and was able to keep within 50 to 60 meters of the leaders, using them as the benchmark for how I was doing. The flat course was easy to navigate and you could see the course turns from a distance away. It made me smile noticing the younger runners near me were staying in the middle of the course or staying on the opposite side of where the upcoming turns were, instead of drifting towards the turn side. Not only did this mean that they were running a slightly longer path than I, but they had to slow down and let me ahead of them or adjust and go around me when we hit the curves. They may have been faster in the long run, but they had some work to do in regards to running smarter.

About a quarter of the way through lap number two - when I was relatively by myself and feeling great - this severe punch in the gut and confidence destroyer in the form of an 11-year-old girl with this ridiculous stride blows by me. The 4-foot nothing leg turning machine didn't just slowly pass me, it was like she was one of those marathon hijackers who inconspicuously jump into the middle of the race and act like they have been there the entire time. And she was moving like she was being summoned back to her other worldly homeland after years of banishment and had been longing to return.Within seconds she had a comfortable lead on me and within a minute all I could see was the tiny purple blur of her shirt.

Luckily I was able to hold steady, but still quite quite bewildered.

My age group winning photo op 

with the man from up north. 

And casually promoting 

Commonhouse Ales Brewery

Now there were 552 people who showed up for the run/walk and it seemed about half of them were of the walking sort. I only know this because the last mile was littered with walking obstacles. So running a mostly straight line was near impossible and, at times, the groups of about-to-be-lapped walkers would congregate along the full width of the course. Being short on additional breath to make ourselves known, we were forced to play a game of Tetris - searching for the quickest and fastest opening without running over or through anyone. Needless to say it was like descending a hill via switchback trails to the finish line.

Still with the rabbits within my crappy eyesight (fuzzy moving objects with similar colored running gear) and focusing on pace and stride, I finally race through the candy cane colored finishing arch. I was winded, but the body felt good - it was finally starting to cope with the fact that this wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

Shotgunning a bottle of water, I plug my race bib number into the digital results monitor and discover that I have placed 7th overall, first in my age group (it is so weird to me to be now associated with the 40 to 44-year-old age group) and used a 6:20 mile pace to post a finished time of 19:40. I was beaten by two adult males, four high school dudes and a preteen Suzy Favor-Hamilton clone. I reached my goal of a sub 20 minute 5K and beat my previous return-to-running PR by more than a minute.

Post race Columbus Brewing IPA 

at Bar Louie and race stats.

My personal glory was gifted with an age group winning Christmas ornament, a souvenir t-shirt and pint glass, as well as a free beer from nearby Bar Louie (Yes, It had to be a domestic beer - but it was a FREE beer. I followed it with a Columbus Brewing IPA on my own dime).

My foreseeable running future will consist of increased mileage and monthly races that are longer than my 3.1 mile standard - that is until The Buck Fifty rears its ugly head in April. And yes, that sounds just as daunting today as it did five months ago...

"A body in a culvert pipe on a construction site in the middle of an alfalfa field" - Gil Grissom
 (Sorry, binge watching CSI on Netflix has been getting the best of me)




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

The Buck Fifty on Facebook

Do You Still Run? - Part 3: The Time Change Abyss

On the cusp of getting out of my comfort zone and increase my mileage for quality longer, more efficient runs and we hit the "fall back" time change. This give and take with my mind is getting ridiculous.

My ideal time to run is after work, though "falling back" on Sunday the 6th now makes it so that it will be near black as night when quitting time comes. Not to mention this week, two days later, was the dark and stormy night that was the election - and running wasn't the top thing on my mind. Luckily, my last race SWAG bag came with a lighted LED bracelet that flashes green. So that helps to keep from being a human speed bump a little.

Finding daylight and keeping myself loose are now struggling to meet one another on a consistent basis. By being loose, I mean being myself and not thinking about it too much. Some just don't get it, which reminds me of my college cross country/track coach at Morehead State. He didn't think I took anything seriously, or at least, seriously enough... which was the furthest from the truth. I don't put on headphones/earbuds and zone out to prepare. I'm myself - getting all serious and quiet just adds nerves and additional butterflies I don't need. I don't work like that.

At Tennessee Tech my junior track season, coach called me out among my teammates for wearing this shirt I had received from my dad in high school during my warm-up prior to the half-mile event. Now, this shirt was funny and fit my personality - it had the image of a piece of a cardboard box and on it had the scribbled phrase, "Will Race For Food". I loved that shirt and had worn it to every track/cross country meet through high school and up to that point. It was my routine - not an attempt to show anyone up. True, that shirt was old, well worn, and had the sleeves cut off...but it was part of my system. The point is that we all prepare in our own way and I'm still just as unconventional today.

Another example, headphones and earbuds: for running - I am not a fan. I want to hear what's going on around me and be cognizant of what I'm doing. I don't want or need a distraction. In high school and college I spent this time thinking about school, sports, women, etc. Now I use this time to keep myself motivated as my body puts up its defenses against running, sending nonchalant subliminal messages that simply stopping will feel soooo much better.

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OH..and I have wanted to many times - but its easy to stop, Its easy to give in but it takes twice as much effort physically and mentally to restart. I want to fight the demons, I don't want to distract myself from them. LISTEN to your body, IGNORE today's crappy music. (Yes...you heard me...CRAPPY MUSIC).

Finding the time to put in the miles and be at least somewhat prepared for races is challenging. The races being a way to remind me that I agreed to The Buck Fifty 150 Mile Relay four months ago and have five more months to be ready. Think what you will, but that is not a lot of time.



Last Saturday's Royal Family Kids: Run For Kids 5K at Marion's Tallgrass Trail was stop #2 on the 2016-2017 Fall/Winter/Spring You Bat Sh*t Crazy Nut Bag Tour sponsored by You Idiot, You're 40 Liniments and Medicated Heat Wraps. My one misstep may have been signing up for this race too early. I discovered shortly thereafter that the Columbus Beer Mile was on the same day and roughly at the same time. Upon further review, running and chugging a beer every quarter mile would not have had the best of outcomes. Though I would have liked to  have taken a stab at it. It is better that I settled on the post 5K beer (or three).

A couple of weekends ago, while volunteering for the Ohio Craft Brewers Association's Dia de La Cervezas in Dayton - one of my fellow volunteers (George) and I were talking about running. George, about 10 to 15 years my junior, looked at me like I had a beer tap coming out of my face when I told him I had just missed breaking 20 minutes in my first attempt at reviving my past glory the week before. I guess that meant I was doing something right, though he was sort of new to running.

Saturday's race was cold, really cold. A nice 28 degree morning, but plenty of sun so it did warm up - but ever so slowly. The first half-mile was smooth, but I could feel my legs begin to scream as the tightness crept in from the frigid air. Coaxing my lower torso along, we made it out of a tree line and into open field and full sun. The slight increase in heat felt good, but it was behind me so my face was numb.

Then it dawned on me that I could no longer hear anyone behind me. Since the course was roughly a mile and a half out and a mile and a half back, I'd see someone sooner or later, but it was comfortable working on my race without distraction. Reaching the halfway point, I grab a quick drink at the water station and turned to see my closest competitor about 150 or so meters behind. Wanting to use this time to work on some things, I increase my stride and focus on maintaining it for the duration of the race.

Now I had the sun on my face, but with a good chilly breeze that made my eyes water profusely. Squinting to the finish was fun, I'm sure it made it look like I was in more pain than I actually was - though at least I could feel my face again. Obviously not the most competitive race in the world, but none of us were looking to set the world on fire. I was lucky enough to cross the finish line first at 20:47. Second went to David Rardon, who I later discovered was also a former runner attempting a sort of comeback. We chat for awhile, shared some past glory and may end up training a some together in the future.

My reward for winning? A 3 month membership to Anytime Fitness with two free personal training sessions...and a t-shirt. Nice, but I think I'll stick to my current training regime. I'm still looking to attain my goal of a sub 20 minute 5K, it is within reach. Though, something has to be said for consistency as I was just seconds off my time from three weeks before.

Oh, my Chillicothe cousin says her dad - my uncle and former OHSAA track official - may be willing to help with hill training at Zane Trace High School's Agony Hill. Agony and I have a storied, less than cordial history. I'm not sure I'm ready for that.

Getting closer to The Buck Fifty, five months and counting...



"The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep." ~  Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost.

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 Ignore Arctic Ohio: Mother Nature's Winter Vaction

The Buck Fifty on Facebook

Do You Still Run? - Part 2: Tuned Like An Unreliable Car

So I finished the remainder of August, and all of September, by settling into a running routine of around three or four workouts a week. The every other day thought process was to avoid running myself into the ground before ever actually getting off of it. Preparing for April's The Buck Fifty relay race is definitely an uphill battle.

There were days of feeling smooth and strong; and many more feeling like Andrew Dufresne entering Shawshank State Prison for the first time. Things have had a sporadic flow to them, leaving my running confidence something to be desired. We'll call this state of mind...the 1985 Ford Tempo GL or, better yet, the 1986 Pontiac J2000 (now known as the "Sunbird"). The characteristics of these two former vehicles of mine mirror how my body is responding to running consistently again.



The J2000 Days: I can run nice and smooth for a time, but then suddenly not - for no particular reason. Then, just the same (like nothing happened - a mirage, if you will), back to feeling good. Its as if something decided I needed a half time or intermission. Why? Just because...not that there was  anything wrong...just...because.

* The Tempo GL Days: They key word here is "tempo" - which is short for "temporarily". I can run and be okay with it until a part of me doesn't like it. Which part? It doesn't matter, pick a card...any card. Whatever you get will be correct. Running roulette says it will be my knees, no..LUNGS, or cramps...no, no, no...legs? LEGS! Yes, the legs! Ha, ha, ha - yes my friend, I'm sure it will be in due time. We can't have everything working at once...remember, you are 40 now!

To better judge my progress, I decided to enter a mid-October 5K race. Not to actually race mind you, but to see how I would respond. So working my way toward this date was evolving in a positive direction, until the Sunday before.

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Seven days out, I develop a scratchy throat. By the end of the following day, I had the full blown flu. I was running a temperature, had cold chills, head and chest congestion, no energy and shortness of breath - even walking to the fridge was a chore. I called off work Tuesday & Wednesday and barely moved from the sofa. Come Thursday I was able to go back to work and fulfill my scheduled late shift. By Friday almost all of that nastiness had left my body, though some of the congestion remnants hung on for dear life.

I felt decent enough to put in an easy two miles or so after work, which was good....though my race was now less than 18 hours away. I haven't run at all, essentially, for a week and I'm coming off of a severe case of the flu (that is still somewhat lingering) and I have a race tomorrow.

Yes, fate just took a big crap on my plans.

The start/finish, I'm the fluorescent one 

in front. That's before reality set in.

Despite myself, Saturday's weather was perfect and I felt surprisingly good. Friday's brief run was a big help, if not a reminder to my creaky body what it was doing before the illness storm.

With my nerves running high, the gun sounded and we're off. My fear was that my adrenaline would have me set out way to fast, luckily that wasn't the case. But it was soon obvious that the week off was coming back to bite me. I could feel the staleness and fatigue in my legs. Coaxing my body into a decent pace - I tried to ignore the other runners. Something that, in the past, I've been unable to do...my competitive mind usually has the upper hand.

Focusing on my breathing, stride and pace and then increasing the latter two with about a mile to go wasn't easy. The time off had thrown a wrench into my race strategy, but my goal of breaking 20 minutes still seamed like a possibility. Using the slight decline to pulled me through the finish line (which was actually a make-shift evil pumpkin face, so you finished by running into its mouth).

I was worn out - but not dead. To still be breathing was at least one goal I was able to achieve complete with the consistent phlegmy cough my weak lungs were producing as they tried to free themselves from the flu's last gasp. Dousing them with several bottles of post race water only slightly eased the hacking through my semi-clogged airwaves.

The eventual posted results were a pleasant surprise as I finished better than I had thought, though I still didn't break the 20 minute barrier. The official chip time had me at 20:48. Not bad for a week off, three days of the flu and its stragglers playing the part of that friend who just doesn't get the hint that the party is over and needs to just simply leave but is too dumb to get it. How many times does one need to dim the intermission lights before you shove his loitering ass out the door??

But I digress - I had a plan and it was carried out relatively the way I had hoped. And I wasn't physically carried out...like on a stretcher or something, WIN!

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

Step 2 - Being Consistent, Make Progress: COMPLETED

Step 3 - Increasing Mileage: ....making mountains out of mole hills here...and its looming like a menacing dark cloud. Nothing a beer or three can't fix...right...?

The Buck Fifty on Facebook

Do You Still Run?

...those four words are making my challenge prone mind regret thinking that getting back to running after several (times two or three) years off would go smoothly. I knew it wouldn't be easy - but visions of those glory days were just too strong.

Last month, Mark - a high school friend and track/cross country teammate -  hit me up on Facebook with this phrase, "Do you still run?" I made a joke about running from the police, but indicated that running regularly wasn't something that takes place in my current routine. Though playing pick-up flag football with guys 10-15 years my junior, then spending the next week recovering from it was, however, part of my routine.

Mark was reaching out to ask if I was interested in taking part in a relay race in our hometown in April and a few of our former teammates were joining in. Without hesitation, thinking it would be a blast,  I agreed. That's when Mark dropped the bomb.

http://www.thebuckfifty.com/

This race would be a 150 mile relay (Holy SH*T Balls! - may have been my first reaction). He proceeds to explain that this is a 24 hour relay with teams of 10 members running three legs a piece. Sooo...after changing the shorts I had just soiled, there was some salvation. I was going to be tasked with just 15 of those 150 miles and not in one gauntlet of self loathing and a slow, painful death. But rather three legs fulfilling the 15 miles, my mind began to relax...sort of.

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Visions of what I used to do as a runner still linger and overpower my thought process whenever it so chooses. I haven't been a runner for about 15 years and haven't been "running" for about five. And everyone will tell you that getting back to it after years off is extremely difficult. Its as if your body is telling you, "F-you man, we aren't doing that again." It doesn't help that I turned 40 eight months ago. As a matter of fact I think most of our proposed team is, just turned or is about to turn the big 4-OH. And our former high school track coach has agreed to be our rescue..er, I mean..SUPPLY...van driver for the race.

I gave myself a hard start date to begin running something of some kind on August 1st - giving me nine full months to prepare. Lets just say it could have started better, but it wasn't absolutely awful:

Monday, August 1st - 

Con: I knew this would happen - I worked from 11:15 to 8:15 on this day and didn't feel much like running after work - also it being 88 degrees outside didn't help either.

Pro: I drank two beers - and GOOD beers at that!

Tuesday, August 2nd -

Con: Damn it! This is my nine hour workday and just the same as yesterday. Didn't I tell you this would be as much a psychological thing as it would be physical?!

Pro: Our new kitten enjoys my company! Can I transfer his energy into my body somehow? I think I'll leave that process up to President Trump - I think I just puked little.

Wednesday, August 3rd -

Con: "Hello mind, this is your body. This correspondence is to inform you that we are gathering clans from seven nations and all over the globe to destroy your rogue plans to get us to join this ridiculous crusade to be something you once were. You have been warned: Cease and desist.

With Regards,

Your Neck Down

P.S. We control all imports and exports - just remember that.

Pro: I did it! I actually ran. It may have been only three miles, but it happened. It started well - then pain and exhaustion set in, but I didn't stop until I completed my route. Crap that was rough and I so wanted to stop, and came damn near close to doing it.

And why have my lungs shrunk to the size of almonds?!

Thursday, August 4th - 

Con- There is no way on god's green Earth I was going to be able to do that for a second straight day. Are you serious? I'm not a freakin' miracle worker!

Pro: My calves are on fire and may have been surgically removed without my knowledge. Rest is good - that is all.

Friday, August 5th-

Con: "Dear Sir, you obviously are taking our previous communication lightly. Please understand that continued disregard of our stern warning will result in serious detriment to this endeavor and will likely not turn out well for you.

Hugs and Kisses,

Those of us below

Pro:  Same route, same result: no stopping and the focus on form was good. A decent pace and no attempt at being superman (high fives!). It hurt just as much though, but I worked through it. Just two days - but I'm proud of myself.

My legs - what did I do with my legs?

Saturday and  Sunday, August 6th and 7th -

I should mention that I'm easing back into the running thing. This weekend was the first full weekend off with nothing planned in months. I did nothing constructive - other than the day trip to Findlay, on Sunday.

I will bite off more than I can chew in due time. For now - baby steps...or, rather, middle age steps (cautiously optimistic strides with a bit more pain and suffering than, say, 20 years ago).

Interesting - that parachute looks a helluva lot like a knapsack, doesn't it?

I will keep you posted.

Climer Family Obit: Making Them Smile till the End

So Uncle Roger passed away a few days ago after battling ALS for six months. A great funny guy who just couldn't get angry at anything. My family as always been of the backward sorts, even during those "its a fact of life" things. Below, you will see what I mean.

And, yes, you will notice that Uncle Roger passed away on the same day as his brother (Uncle John) and father (Grandpa Joe). Not creepy at all...

Keep smiling Uncle Roger...tell grandpa and John that we miss them too.

D. Roger Climer

Born: October 30, 1957
Died: December 06, 2015

D. Roger Climer, 58, of Londonderry, was taken too soon at 8:27pm on Sunday, December 6, 2015 at his home, surrounded by his loving family, following the fight of his life with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease). 

http://www.hallerfuneralhome.com/home/index.cfm/obituaries/view/fh_id/12580/id/3516689  

He was born in Londonderry to Joseph and Genevieve (LaPine) Climer on Halloween Eve 1957, ruining trick or treat night for his siblings; and they held it over his head for years. On June 28, 2003, he married the love of his life, Heather Davidson-Climer.

In addition to his wife and mother, Roger is survived by his beloved son, Eli Climer; a brother Michael (Judith) Climer, of Londonderry; three sisters, Linda (Rodney) Dilley, of Richmond Dale, Janet (David) Whitehouse, of Chillicothe; and Kathy (Rodney) Skaggs, of Chattanooga, TN; his mother-in-law, Lois Davidson, sister-in-law, Heidi Davidson, both of Londonderry, a brother-in-law, Daniel (Jaime) Davidson, of Chillicothe; as well as several nieces, nephews, and a myriad of special friends, including Jeff, Marcel, Erdy, Big Bob, and Butsey. Roger was preceded in death by his father Joseph, who died on December 6, 1984. He was later preceded in death by a brother, Johnny Robert Climer, who also died on December 6, 1995.

Roger was a graduate of Southeastern High School, and went on to work for the Londonderry branch of the Shell Oil Company as a “petroleum transfer technician” (Uncle John pumped gas at Bolte's Shell, a pitstop between Chillicothe and McArthur, Ohio at the intersection of U.S. Route 50 and Vigo Rd). In 1995, he began working for Ross County Litter Control as a collection supervisor, but was more professionally known as “The Trash King”. In his spare time, Roger enjoyed watching his favorite football team, the Cleveland Browns; even though they were a constant disappointment. It was well known amongst his family and friends that he was a fun, quirky, twisted person with an amazing sense of humor. Even through the end of his illness, Roger never lost that “spark” that made him so lovable. He will be remembered as one of the kindest and most gentle souls; as a person who was selfless, caring, and giving to anyone that he met. His entire life revolved around his son Eli, and the activities they would do together. Riding the 4-wheeler, mushroom hunting, gardening, playing ball in the yard, watching football and the Cincinnati Reds were just a few of their favorite adventures.

In accordance with Roger’s wishes, calling hours will not be observed.

The family would like to thank Dr. Skocik and Adena Hospice for their outstanding care during his illness.