Monday, August 12, 2019

She’d a made Whitefish Bay

Andrea and I put in close to 35 miles on Saturday afternoon and into just past midnight on Sunday.  The running and moving portion took 8:22:29, or better yet about 14:30 per mile.  That’s not counting all the bigger stops for aid and changes at the car.  It was Angela and straight up Tina’s 3rd year for the festival.  Probably close to 30 people running various distances.  Andrea and I started 2 hours early at 4pm.  Not sure how many went the full 50 miles.

It was not easy and required effort.  Effort I am more than willing to initiate and accept, but have learned I only have so much juice.  Why would I even consider another 100, or a last man standing event?  Outside of the erosion of skin from the surface of my body, one gets all lurched up.  I mean lurched up in the sense of creaky, stiff, old man like.  Granted, I did come in with 35-36 miles the 4 days prior, but after a lifetime of trotting around one would think this would be much easier than it was.  Andrea is training for the Superior Sawtooth 100 and is in pretty fine form.  I was pleased to be able to keep up.  I never bonked or cramped, but dang it was not easy at all.

Either way I am examining much about what the future looks like.  Running has always been a great alternate vehicle to step out of the rat race.  And that is just what it all is.  Having the energy to manage all these continuous prompts is ponderous.  One just wants to get off the merry-go-round and let some other George Jetson character take my place.  Looking to ground control to Major Tom before the circuit is dead if you are feeling me.  I’ll be 58 next month and it might be time to stop trying to win one for the Gipper.  Looking forward to the, “I think the old guy down on the corner can sharpen you blades.”  “You mean the dude I see running up in the Big Belt and the Blue with no socks?”  Yeah that dude.  The one who said he doesn’t wear sox because Bobby Orr didn’t.

Any ways I put in about 70 last week with two days off.  I’ll decide if I’m going to go do the 12 hour run for a bit of entertainment this week.  That’s August 31st.  I hope to, but it seems I’m gone so much for work and then pounding out miles that Donna should justifiably say no.  We shall see.

I want to add I just learned my great uncle is buried at Arlington National Cemetery.  He died 10/19/18 in WW1 from disease in Europe.  He was a private in the Medical Corps.  His name was Leroy Dehart.  My Dad’s middle name is Leroy.  I knew all my relatives closely on that side of the family.  You mean no one ever mentions this...ever?  My Dad was named after him and never any mention?  I find this randomly on line and no one knows squat?  My brother went out to the grave this weekend and took photos.  He does have his name on one of the Foreign Legion building back in rural PA, so maybe they have more info.  I find it interesting.  Perhaps they just did not know.

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