General Burkhalter

 Friday I paddled the canoe from the house to a friends house.  Davis Lake I faced high incoming winds that actually took me into the bull rushes.  I fought my way out and at 1.2 you go right and down a canal until the dam at 1.9.  I portaged the canoe and gear over fairly easily and had an enjoyable next 3.5 for the most part.  I crossed under Gobbler road and entered Clark Lake for the final 2.42 miles.  At one point you go about a half mile around a peninsula and straight into the high winds.  It blew me around a bit, but once getting thru that there is a cowabunga tail wind.

 I set up camp in the yard.  My wife was there to check on me.  After she left I made a dehydrated meal, sipped a beer and called it about 8pm.  I left the next morning for home at 6:09am.  The water was much calmer.  I didn’t want it to end!  I made a cup of coffee on the canoe which was a first.  I will definitely be doing some bigger adventures.

 Sunday morning I road out to the Withlacoochee paved trail and headed 16 miles south and then came back.  The trail is 46 miles long.  I was 13 miles shy of the South terminus.  So to get to there and back will be a 58 miles long adventure.  I’ll need to get the butt in better shape.

 I haven’t been able to power jog at all.  Walking…maybe 10 miles a week.  Honestly I don’t miss it.  It’s like the show Hogan’s Heroes.  Eventually it had to end.

Hogan!!

The Paint King

I am out for Ice Age.  The page has turned.  There will be other adventures.  Good luck at John Dick 50k today.  Let me know how it goes.  I won’t be running or walking for a bit.  Hopefully I can get to the point of 25 a week of hobby jogging.

Painted on the sky

 Still beat up.  I’ve temporarily step out of the octagon.  Perhaps I can squeeze in one more effort in the squared circle.  It looks grim.  4.3 today @ 14:11 pace and it was an effort.  The equipment is in tatters.  Even walking is a chore.  Mentally and aerobically things are groovy.  Too many blasts and chips to the outer hull.  Also difficult to streamline.  Feels like I am at 130% earth gravity.  I say this with a sound mind and quizzical preponderance.

 As my physical abilities continue to be compromised and sold off at deep discounted prices, I have learned something about me.  Many day to day activities have always been a competition between myself, others, nature, work, and vehicular.  Everything brother.  No wonder patience was not something I could not grasp.  Why would a normal fella take side streets and utilize u-turns just to beat people I don’t know to the grocery store?  Everyday.  Letting go has dropped my upper blood pressure numbers.  In my mind anyway.

 So…I’m still gonna make a run at Ice Age.  I’m always hopeful things will change.  But I have finally come out above the tree line.  Nothing really left to see.

 I’m afraid it is time to start heading down.  No grizz left anyway.

No bugles, no drums

 I am going to take a break from collecting miles.  A solid December of 226 miles has crippled me up.  After 48 hours it feels good to not move around in pain and having to move around lurched over.  The plan is to heal up and start from scratch.  The issue has always been around, but now I’m too old to get away with minimal adjustments.  Now everything has limitations and processes to scratch out a simple workout.

 Now things like rest, stretching, diet, strength and cross training are apparently relevant.  Complete garbage.  I tried to get by on black coffee and NA beers brother, but fell short.  But dammit I tried.  I really did.  Snuck up on me quieter than an ant peeing on a cotton ball.

That’s not Winston

 In the mid ‘70s when I began running it didn’t seem like something I would pursue most of my life.  No matter what phase I was in it always seemed to morph into some type of race or series of races.  I didn’t run as much in the ‘90s, but I would still try and throw down in the 5k - 15k range.  I’d get a hair and train about 10-15 miles a week.  Sometimes a month or so would go by w/o a run, but I was always on the comeback trail.  By the time 1997 came around I decided to use running to thin down.

 It wasn’t a hard concept.  Start running every day and you thin down.  I knew if I could get to 30-40 a week it would happen and it did.  I lived in a diminutive, rural area that was chocked full of back roads and monster hills.  Eventually I would be gone for hours and my wife couldn’t believe someone goes out and runs over to Ohio and back for fun.

 A few decades later I’m dealing with the same thing as other runners.  The parts are worn out.  Other health issues are a factor.  I’m dead dog slow.  I can almost walk as fast as I putz along.  But for some damn reason I put something on the calendar and start ringing the bell.  I’m pulling the truck horn and biking and canoeing and won’t let this replace any weekly mileage.  Sorry…just can’t take days off.  I took one day off in December because it was hard to move.  After getting to the 4 cup of coffee range it wasn’t going to happen.  That’s okay…I’ll double down in the future.

 I tried to go about 25-30 a week for a couple months this year.  I was lost and worse off I put on weight.  I’m hoping this Ice Age is my last, but the wind cries Mary.

53.1 this week.  First mile on today’s jog/walk/suffer fest took over 15:00.  Dragging the line.

I turned to look

 When I was a teen, running was fun because it felt effortless.

 When in my 20’s it was a way to stay in shape.

 In my 30’s I squeezed it in around kids and my job.

 As I hit my 40’s it was about limits.

 When 50 arrived it was all about laying one more good one down.

 Now in my 60’s it is about letting go and realizing whatever speed or type of forward progress it is is going to be good enough.

 Not sure which era was the best, but running with zero expectations is a learned experience.

You’ve really made the grade

 I managed 46.2 last week with a long effort of 10.0.  I took Sunday off.  It was time.  It had been a month and my pelvis was shot.  The only positive from last week was I still have some desire to get out the door.  It might take 3 cups of coffee, but I’m out there.  And it takes a long time to cover 7 miles.  A real good day is 1.5 hours.  I miss writing in the log book, 10 miles 68 minutes.  Who doesn’t?

 2 years of work left.  Hoping I have the courage to retire.  Time to spend some time with my bride exploring the US in search of the perfect Cuban sandwich and America’s best key lime pie.  It’s out there brother.