Requiescat In Pace

For the three of you who even bother to check this anymore, time to move on. With eight months of travelling ahead of us, and no runs on the horizon, I'll shut this down. Of course, I reserve the right to slog and log at a later date. Head over to OOFALWO for recent peregrinations and upcoming ambulations.


Miso in awe

Last week in Surgeres, France at an invitation-only 48 Hour race around a 300m track, Ryoichi Sekiya and Sumie Inagaki, both from Japan, ran 407.966km and 397.103km respectively. In homage to their incredible endurance and the sheer force of will it must have taken to accomplish those numbers, tonight I will eat plentifully of the food of their homeland. We all contribute in different ways.


Around and around

The idea of The Ocean of Wisdom doing some early morning mileage on his treadmill makes me very very happy.


Training Break #12

The road to excess leads to the place of wisdom, for we can never know what is enough until we have experienced too much.
- William Blake


Soon, very soon

Getting very close now to Ultrabalaton, a 212km fun run around Lake Balaton in southern Hungary. We're running it as a four person relay team, with me likely taking an 80-85km night shift. Training has been going well, with weekends dedicated almost exclusively to relentless forward motion...sometimes long slow runs and sometimes long fast walks. Last weekend Deanna and I did about nine hours in our trusty sneakers, and look to hit ten hours on the paths this weekend. A few more weeks like that, then the taper as we take our long-anticipated ten day tour of Turkey with some friends from work, before arriving in Budapest on June 16th.


Those that learned good

Unless a major classroom catastrophe is looming or it is report card time, I do a decent job of keeping work thoughts out of my running mind....I think a little coping mechanism those in the mental health know refer to as compartmentalization. I also happen to be Mr StoneFace and long ago stopped buying into the cuteness factor of the mini-humans. But as I sort out pictures for the yearbook and feel great after a weekend of running, I'll allow the twain to meet. Just this once.
[Kneeling, left to right: Audrey from Korea, Yura from Japan, Malak from Oman, Amina from Pakistan, Deemah from Saudi Arabia, Salma from Saudi Arabia, Jana from Saudi Arabia, and Tami from Saudi Arabia. Standing, left to right: Melissa from Malaysia, Joshua from the USA, Atheer from Saudi Arabia, Ameer from Iraq, Faisal from Saudi Arabia, Shehab from Saudi Arabia, Layan from Saudi Arabia, and Arnold from Korea. Captain of this ship of fools: Mr StoneFace from StoneFaceLand]


Training Break #11

If the facts don't fit the theory, change the facts.
- Albert Einstein


A log by any other name

Allow me to ramble...

After reading Anton Krupicka's blog this morning and being bewildered again by what he does week-in and week-out (189 miles last week, 170 the week before, 170 the week before that - most of it up a giant mountain, quickly, with no shirt on, and meticulously recorded), it occurred to me that my online ego monument has strayed far from its original intent. My little sidebar descriptor thingy over there on the right claims that I will chart my progress. And that really was what I planned to do. Yet, no weekly summaries, no in-depth race reports, very few instances of adding up the minutes spent breathing heavily and sweating profusely. Just some sparse prose on a very infrequent basis.

I do actually record my running times...most of the time. But sometimes I don't. I do calculate my weekly mileage and try to keep track of kilometer or mile split times during the very few speed work sessions I attempt to do. This is not done as much for the reason it should be done - to train scientifically, to monitor any physiological benefits, to reflect upon past workouts as a means to learn from mistakes already made (and there have been many). Rather, I admit that I like knowing that I am, on paper, a better runner at 38 than I was at 23. I like that the numbers support my claim that I am in better shape now than I have ever been in before. Vanity, I suppose. I don't run the super-mileage of Krupicka or Donaldson or Karnazes (though I do now wear North Face shoes like Karnazes does), nor even come close to approaching the pace of many runners my own age (or older), but no matter.

I do enjoy every moment I'm out there - on beautiful spring days when I feel light and strong, in inclement weather when my legs feel their heaviest or when my right knee aches. I run to think, alternately to engage or to disconnect, and that is what this site has become for me. Sometimes I record those thoughts here, more often I don't. As it has been from my first few and heavy steps in January 1994, I am caught up in the potential for change that running allows.

We do have a few things sneaking up on us quickly. Deanna and I, along with some Sea Bassers from work, are doing a half marathon on May 2nd. Six weeks after that, and a few days after our much-anticipated ten day tour of Turkey with our very good friend Altay, an actual Turk, we will run approximately 85km each of the 211km Ultrabalaton relay in Hungary. Then, if all goes as we hope, in September we'll try to become the first foreigners to complete the TransKorea 308km in that event's history. Beyond that, some Himalayan hiking and fodder for a future post.


Training Break #10

Faber est suae quisque fortunae.
- Appius Claudius Caecus


Real Men of BAMFness: Thomas Sanchez

Bloggy drought over. At least for today.

As mentioned before, I have no compunction about borrowing freely from the blogs and websites of others. It seems almost an inherent right in a [cyber]world where I can skulk stalk peruse the photo albums of strangers, read the innermost ramblings of people I've never met, and be connected by blogroll to folks living their lives in whatever cockamamie or inspiring way they choose.

I have been reading Jordan Rapp's blog since he started dominating the world of triathlon. I don't do triathlons, but that doesn't matter. I've never met the man and am unlikely ever to, but no matter. I can definitely appreciate his insight and his dedication to his pursuit of excellence. And he's funny, posting sporadically a series he calls Real Men of BAMFness.

A week ago, while out on a training ride, Rapp was a victim of a hit and run, left unconscious and bleeding heavily on the side of the road. As recounted here, a few bystanders called 911, but U.S. Navy Chief Petty Officer Thomas Sanchez jumped into action. Working with some gauze from a combat vest in his car, Sanchez staunched the flow of blood from two severed jugular veins in Rapp's neck until paramedics arrived.

Because Rapp didn't die on the road...
because you humbly give credit to the paramedics who arrived after you did and the doctors at the hospital for saving Rapp's life...
because you keep a combat vest in your car...

CPO Thomas Sanchez, you, sir, are a serious BAMF.



The other thing I do with my legs.


Looking forward

2009 saw some wonderful running moments, from two cracks at 100km to sharing in the great successes and triumphs of friends. Deanna set PBs all over the place and continued to be my Running Muse. Some days I ran well, others not. 

SBRC members near and far accomplished much; the highly-anticipated Bassies are currently under deliberation at the Home Office. If I can keep my nose out of any of the billions of books we seemed to accrue over the holidays, final decisions will be made shortly. Winners will be notified by carrier pigeon.

Last year at this time, I set time and training distance goals for the months to follow, some of which I met, others I didn't even approach. I think I even realized at the time the potential for invoking some manner of self-hex, to rile the twin trolls of Hubris and Folly, but opened my big mouth anyway. For 2010, I'm taking a less detail-oriented approach, and hope only for a great year of running. With one ultra in Europe already committed to, and two more in Korea in the works, I hope to push myself past the limits I set last year.