Category: Running

Wake Up and Run For Your Life

Numbers One, Two and I ran the Cotton Row Memorial Day Run in downtown Huntsville this past Monday. None of us had been running much lately (I’ve had a bad case of “turf toe” since February), so a 5K for fun (and to get the t-shirt) seemed about right. We were running late, so we ended up at the back of the pack at the start.

As we stood there waiting for the gun to go off, we suddenly heard the people around us applauding and cheering. We looked up and saw the very last 10K finisher (it had started nearly 2 hours before) crossing the finish line.… Read the rest

Cold Running Haiku

Charlie, Clay and Joe, these are for you.

As for the rest of Team Wannabe: Where were you?



single digit chill
icy sweat clings to my beard
wicked rugged dude

sunrise four men run
8 miles over road and trail
they live weak “men” sleep

we are a phalanx
cars on donut runs move quick
shake fists gaze in awe

ordinary daze
sunday comes wannabes run
it’s good it’s all good

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I Am So There

There are two things that soothe my soul these days, three places where I find some much-needed grace and peace…

At a Barnes & Noble on a Friday afternoon, a cup of coffee in hand, perusing the recent releases and the latest bargin bin deals. My reward for a hard week’s work…

Near the end of a Saturday morning 10-mile run, when the endorphins hit my bloodstream with a mighty roar. Natural opiates–a gift from God…

Kneeling at the altar rail of an old, liturgical church, hearing the priest say, “The Body of Christ, the Bread of Heaven; the Blood of Christ, the Cup of Salvation.”… Read the rest

Listening to My Body

I’ve been listening to my body lately, and this is what it’s been telling me:

Stop, Eyeguy, stop!

That’s right, an inflamed left Achilles tendon and a flare-up of my sciatica have knocked me out of marathon contention for this fall and left me wincing anytime I try to take a step over 4 miles per hour or so. Most of you can imagine how important an Achilles tendon is to running (as in, not optional), and for those of you who have never experienced sciatica, picture a 6-inch ice pick in the small of your back and the resulting pain which radiates from your buttocks down to your ankle.… Read the rest

I Spy the Eyeguy

A small minority of Fusioneers are apparently starting to clamor for an Eyeguy sighting. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why, but facts are facts.

I tried to give readers an idea of what I looked like here. I even dropped another not-so-subtle hint here (Quick! Somebody slather that boy’s head with Dippity Do!). But apparently even those weren’t enough.

Alright already. I’ve hesitated to post this because I really try hard not to rub it in. But remember, you asked for it.

Here I am.

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Carpe Diem!

Like me, Alberto Salazar has been running most of his life (albeit considerably faster). But that blasted Reaper is still nipping at his heels.

I’ve told Eyegal that if I go out running, to please tell everyone I went out the way I wanted to. Not exactly a chariot of fire, but a fine ride nonetheless.

These days, I wear a RoadID during my workouts. Following all the identifying information is the following short, but important, message:

Carpe Diem!

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It’s the Increments, Stupid

Yesterday was “hill day.” That’s my 6-6.5 mile early morning run which includes a mile or so of various quad-challenging inclines. Hill day, along with my weekly track session and long weekend run, form the backbone of what I hope will be a run-up to another marathon in December.

Usually, I’m pretty winded by the time I reach the top of the hills and have been in the habit of walking a few meters in recovery. But yesterday, as I topped each peak, there was no need to stop and catch my breath. Like Forrest Gump, I just kept right on running.… Read the rest

Here She Comes Again

Visitor Analysis

Google Search String: Nike Cortez history

Date: 25th June 2007

Time: 12:02:45

Host Name:

Country: United States

Region: Oregon

City: Beaverton

ISP: Nike Incorporated

Visit Length: 2 mins 18 secs


Our Lady of Perpetual Branding is back again and checking out my blog. Only this time, she stayed a full 2 minutes and 18 seconds! That means she actually lingered this time!

Now that I have her attention, what should I ask/tell her? I’m open to suggestions.… Read the rest

The Things We Say

With the mercury already rising on another sultry Sunday morning, the runner stopped for a much-needed drink of water. The mammoth megachurch had always been a good wayside for such purposes. Situated approximately halfway through the run, one of the side doors was usually open by 7:00am, and there was a water fountain just a few feet inside; real water, and who knows, on a good day, maybe a little “living water” too.

The runner was not exactly dressed for church, but he rarely encountered anyone inside, and he would only be there for a few moments, so he didn’t see any harm.… Read the rest

Father’s Day Postscript

If you’re a dad, I hope it went well. For me, everyone basically left me alone on the couch all afternoon to ice my right ankle which I rolled badly while running a trail yesterday morning and to rehydrate after crashing and burning in the rising morning heat somewhere around mile eight.

Man, it just doesn’t get any better than that.

Consigned to the couch, I watched the US Open. I don’t play golf and rarely watch it, but I was trapped. But it became interesting and even mildly dramatic, going down to the final hole before a winner was decided.… Read the rest


Malady: 45-year-old Caucasian male who should know better running 6 miles, including over a mile of hills ranging in grade from 5-15%, finishing last mile in 7:30

Rx: A 20 oz. bottle of orange Gatorade, two, no, better make that three 200mg ibuprofen tablets, deep muscle massage with one of these and whatever you want to eat, including…

copious amounts of ice cream and apple cobbler.

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Think I’m “Hokey?” Deal With It

Saturday I ran another half-marathon. My time was 1:50:40, a full five minutes faster than February.

But it wasn’t easy. Whereas in February I felt I still had a little gas in the tank at the end, this time I was running on fumes. My calves were knotting up as I slouched toward the finish, but finish I did. Of course, this morning I can barely move, but that’s the price a 45-year-old must pay for such “glory.”

I can remember several times thinking about how hard it was and about how it would be nice just to stop and hang it up and start acting my age.… Read the rest