"Snakes don't walk, they slither. So there."

Ok, so it was a Snake Run, not a walk, but the line from a Disney classic is totally fitting. Sorry I have been quiet lately, but I have been moving as well as recovering from Little Rock and trying to get ready for TATUR's 2012 Snake Run. So I hope that you will forgive my absence. But as you can see, I am back at it.

So, with all that having been said, it's time for me to talk about my experience on the trails on Saturday. A few weeks ago, I signed up for this crazy race and made a commitment to give trail running a try. On Saturday, Tulsa Area Trail and Ultra Runners (TATUR) hosted the 5th Annual Snake Run at the Turkey Mountain Urban Wilderness Area in Tulsa, OK. Yes, this is the same area I blogged about not too long ago that some developer wanted to make into an amusement park.

The Snake Run is a unique run for distance in a set amount of time. For me, the challenge was to simply make it through one full loop, 4.2 miles. I woke up early in the morning, just as dawn was breaking and started getting ready. The temps were supposed to be awesome and they did not disappoint. I got all my stuff together, taped my foot, knees and elbow, put on an older pair of shoes (I didn't want to ruin my brand new pair of street kicks) because I knew there would be some mud on the course.

The race started at 9, so I showed up at 8:30 and there were cars and trucks on both sides of the narrow roadway and in parking lots. I managed to find a good parking spot just inside one of the gates at the top, just a tenth of a mile from the start/finish line. I picked up my packet and got myself ready as best I could. The air still had the dawn chill, but it was promising to warm up fast. Walking around, I found that my excitement was much like that of my first 5k 2 years ago. I found myself wishing that someone would have been there, at least at the start. Even though I had started 2 half marathons before, I knew this would be a challenge, and it turned out to be a very ambitious outing for me.

Ken "Trail Zombie" Childress, the Race Director, gave everyone the lowdown and last minute skinny on the trails and then we were off. Like a good boy, I took up a position at the end of the pack because I was not only slow, but new to running the trails. I took the open field at the start to set my alarm and tried my 4 and 1 walk/run that I had set on the roads. For a while, the trail parallelled the road and I could hear traffic for a bit. The first downhill bit was a slow start, with rocks and roots and a generally more uneven surface than I was used to. But it wasn't too bad and soon I found a more smooth running surface to move down and I actually started running just a little bit, at least until I came to the first of several little streams I could cross or trek through.

Crossing over the stream, the uphill side was quite muddy with a stream of it's own trickling down it. The herd of previous runners had not done much in the way of favors to me, so I hesitantly waded through it and found that it wasn't too bad. I got a little mud on my feet, but didn't carry much away with me and continued on. Right in the middle of this climb, one of my alarms went off and I just reset it for the next time... I didn't think it would be safe for me to try to run with such tenuous and slippery footing. That would soon become the norm as I had to skip more and more of my running minutes.

There were a lot of differences between running on the trails and running on the streets. The obvious one is the matter of terrain. Trees and roots and rocks and rivers and trying to yield up the trail to passing runners in both directions took its toll on my physically, to be sure. But another major difference is the fact that most of the time on the trail, I had no idea about the distance I had travelled. While the trail was well marked and I never strayed off it, this still made trying to pace myself very difficult -- no map with landmarks, no cross streets to measure progress by.

It wasn't long before all sense of being "in town" was gone and it was just me, the trees and my fellow runners. Somewhere after the turn away from traffic, I paused and drank down some of my Gatorade, not wanting to dehydrate too early in the race. The sun was creeping up and so were the temperatures. It was about this time that I noticed another feature or difference of running trails... the wind was blocked more by the trees, so there was less cooling effect as the day warmed up. At first, this was good. But later, I was wishing for a bit more wind.

Ahhh... the first aid station! I took in some water and a couple of oranges and a few small pretzel sticks for the salt. It was good to see the aid station, it gave me some sense of where I was on the course. I left the aid station and felt a bit better, but this was a 4.2 mile loop and I was just passing the first mile. On the road, I've got various places I scout out in case I need a quick sit for 20, 60 or 90 seconds. But on the trails, these were few and far between. And with the warmer weather, you never knew when you might happen upon one of the race's namesakes, so I knew I had to be careful.

Finally, what I guesstimate as about a half a mile away from the aid station, I found a rock formation just off the path where I could catch my breath and rub out some of my sore muscles. Between the unfamiliar terrain and having to break trail to give right of way to passing runners, the trails were forcing me to use untrained muscles and they were complaining. But I wasn't anywhere near done yet.

Getting back on the trails, I had just stepped away from my break area when my cell phone rings... Well, I had no idea so I answered it. Wrong number. I don't know why I was so put out, but after 3 times of me telling them I didn't know any William Bass and that this had been my number for over 10 years, they finally got the message and I continued on. It seemed that the further along I went, the worse the mud got. There were a blessed few spots where I could go around at least the worst of it, but many spots there was just no place to go and I ended up carrying around a couple of pounds in wet mud.

Finally, I slogged my way to the halfway point and even had a great place to sit down and knock some of the mud off my shoes. Taking a quick break just short of the turnaround/aid station, I basked in the sun for a few minutes... Maybe more like a snake than I'd like to admit, hehe. Then I got up to see a familiar face manning the aid station. I got more water and refilled my bottle with water, got some more orange slices and the last piece of banana, a few more pretzel sticks and I turned around to slog back through it all.

Heading back around through all that mud just doubled how tired my legs were already feeling. I dug down and did my best to find rest stops. I drained the last of my Gatorade and started on the water. It was a long way back if my legs weren't going to hold up... and I had left too many races unfinished anyway. I don't like doing that. So I kept pushing. Finally, I made it back to the last aid station. I knew that it had taken me about a half an hour to reach it the first time, so I figured that as tired as I was, it would take me about 45 minutes to slog my way back out. While I began to feel the closeness of the finish line I was also starting to feel bloated, even though I had not had what I thought was an over lot to drink. I refilled on water anyway, but the bloating made me pass up more potential fuel. I rested at the aid station for a few minutes and gathered my strength for the push back around.

But it wasn't long before my legs had enough and right in the middle of the trail, they gave way. I otherwise felt fine. I dragged myself off the trail and went over a mental checklist... Heart was beating fast but strong and regular... Vision was good, no spots before my eyes or anything. I mentally checked myself on the day (Saturday, 24 March), President (Obama, why couldn't it be Reagan), location(Turkey Mountain, Tulsa). I took several deep breaths, no pain there. Just my legs. I wasn't sure if I had anything left... it didn't feel so. Passing runners on their additional loops checked on me and a couple of them said they would tell the aid workers. I said thanks and rested, sipping on my water.

Finally, the idea of giving up frothing vily in my mouth, I hauled myself up and kept moving toward the finish. I didn't want to quit, I didn't want to give up. I wanted to finish. How far was I? I didn't have any idea. Half a mile? Surely I could drag myself another half mile. I met the 3 guys that were coming down to check on me on my feet. They wanted to take me off the course. I was near the road by now and there were a couple of nearby paths that led right out to the road, but I just kept trudging up the path. I was hurting and in trouble and everything in me was screaming that I should just give up and let them carry me out. I knew what they said about being in the woods in bad shape, but I just couldn't stop. And yet my legs failed me again.

Down I went for a second time. Again, I went over my checklist. Just the legs were a problem. Silently, I prayed for the strength, but for a while, I mentally gave up. I knew I had really pushed hard. It was not an easy transition, from roads to trails. And it was even harder with the mud. Before long, Ken came down and checked on me himself. This time, I had collapsed only 3/10 of a mile from the finish line. I wasn't at all sure, now, what I was going to do. 3/10 of a mile was excruciatingly close. Only 2/10 and I'd pass right by my truck. I could stop there and just get in my truck and go home in shame...

Not that anyone at the race would have been shaming me... that was just myself. With Ken's encouragement and having finished the rest of my water, I crawled to me feet on my own and pushed through it to the clearing where my truck was. I found a log to sit on for a couple of minutes about half way to my truck. Then we stopped at my truck and I rested there while drinking some of the Gatorade that I had stashed for after the race. I could stop. I was safe and could go home. I wouldn't finish the race, but I could stop the pain, take the easy way out. This crossed my mind as I sat there. 1/10 of a mile to go, but if it was too much, I could just stop.

I got back up and started moving again. I don't really know why I couldn't just give up. I had every right to. I had played out my legs, not just once, but several times. I was nauseated and bloated. I wanted to puke, but couldn't. I just kept pushing. My body wanted me to quit, my mind had given in for a few minutes. But then I just couldn't. I stumbled up the hill I had come down several hours earlier and headed for the finish line. I was out of the woods, but not done yet. When I finally crossed the finish line, I just stood there for a moment. I'd made it. I wasn't carried off, I didn't get pulled for some medical reason. I'd finished under my own power. I moved over to the mound of dirt thinking I should sit down, but my foot slipped on some mud... the final insult hurdled at me from a race that I had taken far too lightly, but had managed to complete. I just sat there thinking and praying my thanks for giving me the strength to finish the race. It was a most gruelling race for me. The hardest one I have done, thus far.

Finally, I managed to get up off the dirt and move down to the finish line aid station. I was now more nauseated than I was weak in my legs and I sat in the shade and drank a bit of water and a bit of Sierra Mist, trying to settle my stomach. Finally, I laid down for a while and tried several of the normal cures for my stomach being so upset. The salty potato, pretzels, orange slices, flat coke... Nothing seemed to help and I knew that for me, the only things that were going to help were some sleep and actually puking. Finally, I drifted off into a light sleep on the cold and damp ground, which actually felt good at the time.

　
Epilogue:
After laying on the ground for over an hour, I began to feel good enough to go get a shower and get some rest. So I got a ride to my truck and headed home. My stomach was still a little queasy, but I felt better and was confident that I could make it home. But just a half mile from my exit, I was suddenly overwhelmed by the reflex to vomit and even though my window was down, I could not get my head out the window and get slowed down enough. 65 Miles Per Hour is not a good time to experience this. I managed to get pulled off onto the shoulder safely, but I don't think I will ever forget that sight coming back at me.

Finally getting home and getting ready for a shower, I took the opportunity to check over my feet.  Mud was certainly the order of the day, as were blisters. 
　

Several people asked me after it was over... would I come back? It was a bad question to ask at the moment, but I didn't say no. Having had a couple of days to think about it, I think I can now say yes, I'll be back. Not soon and not often, but I will be back.

Race Report - Little Rock - DNF, but really a win?

Little Rock. Being here is kinda like coming home. I graduated High School at North Pulaski High, just about a dozen miles north. It was good to be back again.

I rode down with my friend Cheryl from Tulsa on Saturday. I met her at 0630 and moved my gear to her vehicle and we set out without delay. The drive in was scenic and we chatted on the way in. Temperatures were moderate, if a little on the cool side. Conversation was friendly and encouraging, mostly though, we were both excited to be going to Little Rock for this race.

We got to Little Rock in good time, pulling in to our hotel just before 11am. We got our bags out and proceeded to the desk to check in, having called about an hour before to confirm that we would have no problems with the check in. I should have recalled the old murphyism, when everything is going smooth, something unsmooth is about to happen. And so it did. The hotel messed up Cheryl's room, telling her that they had given all of the doubles out the previous day. They also advised us that they would not honor the late check out request... a definite problem as neither of us expected to be done with the race by noon. We tried talking to the manager on duty, but they wouldn't budge from their position and we each decided we would do what we had to do and worry about whatever fees we got charged later. It was, for me, the most unpleasant part of the entire trip.



We got to our rooms and dropped out gear off and then hit the expo to pick up our packets. The expo wasn't as crowded as I had expected, but there was a lack of product samples, from my perspective. We walked around and stopped by a couple of booths and inquired about other races that seemed interesting, but generally cleared out of the expo pretty quick. Cheryl had plans with some of her friends and my daughter and niece were in town, so we each had separate plans, but both sets of plans got changed at the last minute and we decided to grab lunch together. I suggested an Irish Pub I knew across the river called Creegen's and so we ate a good lunch. When we were through, Cheryl's friends were still busy so we met my daughter and niece at the USS Razorback and took a tour through the WWII submarine.

What I didn't realize at first was that this was no modified for museum vessel... We had to enter and exit just like a regular submariner would have... through the watertight hatch and down the ladder. I'm not a skinny guy and it was an interesting fit, but I made it and was never in danger of getting stuck. But when I suggested it, I had forgotten that my friend had some issues with ladders due to a bad accident a few years ago. Going down wasn't so bad, but on the climb out, it was a little anxious for her. I, myself, was fighting my own demons while inside the belly of the sub, as the ventilation was not great and the stuffiness closed in around me. I'm not generally claustrophobic, but was certainly feeling it during the tour. I had to force myself to keep breathing deeply and tried desperately not to show it. I was also worried about getting back up the ladder... coming down was easy enough, but the rungs were spaced a little far apart and I wasn't at all sure about getting back up. I joked bravely about joining the crew. But I didn't have near the problem I was worried about and made it out to stand on the deck again.

After the tour, we all broke up and went our separate directions. I had the Early Start meeting to go to and made it with just a minute to spare. Here I met Hobbit, the Walking Coach for the Little Rock Marathon. I also saw Laurie and Derek at the meeting and we talked for a few minutes. At that time, I found out that the hotel mix-up was really a lot more mixed up as they had gotten a double even though they had asked for a king and had come in after us.

After that, I retired to my room. After a bit, my daughter came up and we chatted and I tried, unsuccessfully, to nap. I started to notice that my mouth was dry and I sipped on some water I brought. My niece joined us late and we went and got something to eat about an hour later than I had planned for. Sticking with what I knew and not wanting to risk getting something that would haunt me the on the run, I decided for Creegen's a second time. I had the shepard's pie and it was good. Finally, just about 9pm, I made it back to the hotel checked the weather for the next day and laid out my things. I set my alarm and called for a wake-up call. Shortly after all that, I was sound asleep.





Race Day

I was up in the morning and excited. I felt good and felt ready to take on this race. I had done all the training and knew a lot of the course already, after all, my first apartment was on the race course. I got my things on, loaded up the supplies I would carry with me, took the meds I needed and headed out.

Downstairs, there were several faces I recognized and several of my running friends from RunnersWorld Tulsa were there. We chatted on the way to the starting line for the early start. I was ready, dressed correctly for the temps and excited about the trek. we arrived with just a couple of minutes to go before the gun... No standing around like at the Route 66, just get there and suddenly we were off.

I crossed the starting line just 30 seconds after the gun, I was loving the early start and the sky was just starting to lighten as we approached the Clinton Library. Being at the back of the pack, I was hit up for an interview by the Marathon Show's Joe Taricani. I don't know if it ever aired, but it was an interesting thing.

As Joe Taricani left me and the solitude that I am used to settled in, I started my familiar 4 and 1 walk/run pace. Before the race, I had thought that I would just walk the first mile or two, but I was feeling particularly good and having just been interviewed, felt kinda empowered on top of the race day adrenaline.

It wasn't long before I was headed across the Broadway Street Bridge and into North Little Rock. Temps were starting to warm as the sun peaked over the horizon and the wind died down. It was going to be a beautiful day. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I was being observed by another runner who was just getting ready for the regular start... You never know, even in your solitude, who might be watching. I was revelling in the sunrise and the the fact that I was now in my old stomping grounds. Mile 2 came up quickly and I was 8 minutes ahead of my normal pace, but slowing down a bit to conserve my energy. I paused just past the 2nd mile marker and had one of the officers blocking the roads take a quick snapshot of me in front of my old apartment building. I was still feeling pretty fresh and looked it, too. Onward I went.

About another half mile and I tapped into my nutrition, just a little. Soon, I was coming up on the first water stop and I grabbed a bit of water and carried on. At 3 miles, my feet were hurting a little, but I've had that before, I shifted a little and kept going. A minor nuisance wasn't going to stop me. About a half mile later, though, I started having my first cramps. My calves kept trying to cramp up and shut down. Having just had some water, I decided that even though it was early, I'd intake a salt packet. Moving on down. At mile 4 and a half, the handbikes, wheelchairs and elites started passing me. I had slowed down quite a bit, but still on course and despite the achy feet and the cramping legs was still good and moving.

Coming around the bend and heading back across the bridge, the little things started adding up. It was about that time that the main pack started passing me and the bridge from North Little Rock was a longer climb up than when I first went over. Now those who know me know that I normally like hills, at least in training. But this hill, this bridge, seemed to be really getting the better of me. I kept going, occasionally pulling off to the side and hanging off the rail to stretch out my cramping legs and get a little more endurance out of them. But all that foot traffic was causing the bridge to noticeably oscillate and I had to fight that as well as already having problems. The oscillations were the worst under the arch where I was just certain the bridge was rising and dropping my at least half an inch. It was very disconcerting and very tiring, even just to keep my balance. Finally, I fought my way off the bridge and had to sit down for a few. That wore me out and I sat down for several minutes, but finally got up and continued on.

I moved along and up the hill to 3rd street. I was coming up on half way and just didn't want to stop. I took some more of my fluids, but my mouth would get dry quickly afterward. I want to say that I got a tremendous amount of support and well wishes as I trudged along. I started to realize just how deep in trouble I was and it seemed like I had to stop and rest every time I turned around. Still, I wasn't wanting to quit. My quads were on fire, my stomach was nauseous, and I was starting to get dizzy, but I kept getting out there. My friend Cheryl passed me and shouted some encouragement and I did my best to keep going. I was really played out and hurting when more of my group came upon me. I guess I had started to drift a bit and they made me sit down and gave me some water and they made sure I was ok before they left. Angry with myself, I got back up and squeezed some more out. Mile six couldn't be more than a mile ahead, I was thinking. About half way down to the next turn I stopped again and before I realized it, I was watching the sad wagon pass me. They started picking up the course barrels and they didn't even know I was still on the course!

I got up again. The turn was just ahead, I was sure. I pushed, even as my quads were giving out. Every muscle in my legs were burning and complaining. I got to where I thought the turn was and turned up the street. About half way up the block I realized that cars weren't supposed to be parked on the race route and that the street was full of cars. I turned around and went back down to the race route and turned to go back down, but realized I wasn't sure where the route was... I couldn't see the marker for mile 6. I was in trouble and knew it so I started messaging people I knew. Finally, my legs gave completely out. Had I been close to the finish, I'd have simply crawled, but I had enough presence of mind to realize I couldn't crawl 7 miles and finally pulled up short. Soon, Little Rock EMTs were on the scene and after making sure that I wasn't in imminent distress and then they helped me get back to my hotel.

Once safely in my room, I crawled over to the bed and let myself collapse with a water bottle. I set my alarm and sipped some and slept for a brief time, doing the best I could to recover. I was cold, cramping and thirsty. Eventually, I tossed and turned enough that I managed to pull covers over me and I warmed up. After a shower, I was feeling almost human again. Slowly, I got some use of my muscles and when Cheryl finished and got her shower, we decided we could stay for at least a little of the post race party. We gathered our things and checked out of our rooms and had a nice surprise waiting for us... the hotel didn't charge us for any additional time. It made thing a bit better.

We got our gear back in her vehicle and then sat in the hotel restaurant for a while. I had a little to eat, expecting the entire time to get nauseated again and happily surprised when I didn't. Previous races had gotten me there and I was glad this wasn't one of them.

On the way home, there were many quiet, introspective moments. There was also some good discussion on what went right and what went wrong. As Cheryl pointed out to me, I finish a race... I just signed up for the wrong one. She also said that I might try racing some shorter races and just work on making my times better. Those are good thoughts and I hope she knows I did hear her on them.

All in all, I am not giving up. After the Route 66, I felt bad because I didn't get a chance to put it all out there. I had the same problem with the Tulsa Zoo Run 5k the month before, even though I had finished it and did comparatively well at it. But sometimes it is hard for me to be able to express to others. But at Little Rock on Sunday, I put everything out there. I went MY distance, the farthest I could go on THAT day. Did I make mistakes leading up to that race? Sure I did. Some grand ones, I think. I let the travel day interfere with my hydration, I didn't watch my exertion the day before the race, I probably started the race slightly dehydrated and then exabrated the problem by taking salt early on without the proper hydration. I also probably started my pace a little too fast. But I did all I could do and then went further. I will be back and I will get to wear a finisher's medal. I liked coming to Little Rock for this race and you can bet I'll be back.

Thankful Thursday: Before the Race

It seems that the Law of Taper has gotten into almost everything, including my blog. Well, I didn't run on Saturday, taper got me and I used the time to get some much needed sleep. And aside from running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, I've not gotten out on these wonderful and temperate days, much to my regret, to do any running, either. I need to get out and do some exercising, but it seems with all the craziness this week trying to get prepared, I've just not been "in the zone".

So, Little Rock. Growing up, I spent a lot of time in the area. About 8 years total, I lived at Little Rock Air Force Base, about 12 miles north. I graduated from North Pulaski High School. My first apartment after high school is actually right on the course I am running Sunday Morning. How exciting it will be to go by that place again. Wonder if it is for rent. LOL.


Anyway, just a few thoughts before the race...


I am thankful to be able to go back to Little Rock... It's been a while and it gives me a chance to remember some good times.

I am thankful to be able to participate in an endurance race... There have been times when I thought I never would.

I am thankful for the aches and pains I experience along the way... They remind me that I am still alive and need to finish so I can get home.

I am thankful for the people who have brought me into this sport and supported me through all this... To see a 400+ pound man and think he could EVER be in this position take great vision.

I am thankful for the people who accept me for who I am, who I was, and who I may be in the future without judgement. It means more to me than I can express.

I am thankful for each and every one who reads my blog... You guys help me keep it real and keep me finding things to write about.

I am thankful that I was cared about when I was not even able to walk to the end of my block... I'll never be over those times...

I am thankful that I have been so blessed by God... For how else can any of this be explained.

Thankful Thursday - Miracle on Ice

I remember exactly where I was on February 22, 1980. I was glued to the television watching history being made. Herb Brooks and The US team made up of 20 young amatuer and collegiate hockey players from the United States dared an all professional team from the Soviet Union, which was considered the best hockey team in the world, in what is widely regarded as one of the greatest upsets in sports history.  It wasn't the first time they had met.

The Soviet Bear

The Soviet professional team was a true bear to play. In various exhibition games played against American and Canadian professionals in the NHL, Soviet teams went 5 wins, 3 losses and a tie. When their Olympic Team played the NHL All-stars, the blanked the NHL players 6-0. Then, just 3 weeks before the historic match-up in Lake Placid, The two National Olympic Teams met for an exhibition match at Madison Square Gardens.

Pressure was built up higher than normal between the two superpowers. In December of 1979, the Soviet Army had invaded the country of Afganistan and the United States denounced the move publicly and then President Jimmy Carter was considering the US Boycotting the Summer Games in Moscow (which did end up happening).

The results of the matchup were devestating. The Soviets buried the American team, 10-3. The young team of amateurs just didn't seem up to the task of fighting off the physically bigger and more experienced Soviet team. After the February 9th exhibition game, many felt that the US might not even medal in the sport at the Olympics.

Raised Eyebrows

Herb Brooks and the American team didn't let their experience deter them. It was just an exhibition and gave them an opportunity to see the Soviet team's strengths and weaknesses. When Olympic play began, the American team brought a physical and cohesive game to the ice. In their first game, underdogs against Sweden, they earned a 2-2 draw in the last 27 seconds, by leaving the goal untended and pressing the attack with the goalie pushing in.

Moving forward in game play, Czechoslovakia was the next game. The Czechs were considered to be second only to the Soviet Union and so the two Warsaw Pact nations were considered to have the Gold and the Silver Medals already in the bag. Team USA responded to this by soundly and stunningly defeating the Czechs 7-3. The team had managed their first two games and then cruised by the next 3 games without a problem, beating Norway, Romania and West Germany to advance to the medal round with Sweden. The Soviets advanced with Finland and the stage was set.

"Do You Believe In Miracles?"

22 February 1980 - 5pm EST

A capacity home-team crowd filled the Field House with patriotic songs and US Flags everywhere. Like most of the rest of the country, I had to wait until the tape delay played later to find out the outcome of the game. But these were the days before instant news via the internet. It wouldn't matter, I'd have watched it again and again. The game was intense, the first period battling back and forth, the US answering for every shot the Soviets scored. It was like watching a whole different team from the Madison Square Gardens game.

The second period was dominated by the Soviet team, pounding shot after shot at the American goalie. 12 times, the Soviets shot and time after time Jim Craig deflected shots. But eventuality caught up and on a power play, one of the Soviet shots got through. The second period ended with the Soviets up 3-2.

The third period was probably the most explosive period in hockey. A penalty sent one Soviet player to the penalty box and Team USA used the opportunity, scoring twice. With just 10 minutes left in the game, the US had the lead. They would never relinquish it. The Soviets started going wild with an intense desire to recapture the lead. Wild shot after wild shot rang toward the US Goalie and Craig just kept defending his territory. Finally, Team USA regained control of the puck with seconds left. Al Michaels famously counting down the last seconds of the game, "11 seconds, you've got 10 seconds, the countdown going on right now! Morrow, up to Silk. 5 seconds left in the game. Do you believe in miracles? YES!"

Contrary to what a lot of people thing, this was not the game for the Gold Medal. But even though it was not the Gold Medal game, it certainly overshadowed the later game against Finland in which Team USA overcame a late deficit to win 4-2. For all intents and purposes, the US-USSR game, the Miracle on Ice, was the difinitve game of the 1980 Olympics and even today reigns as the International Ice Hockey Federation's top story of the 20th century. It defined what can be done and defied all the odds. It is an inspirational story of what can be done when you challenge the word impossible.

Thank you, Team USA. You inspired me, you inspired us and you inspired yourselves to go beyond the word impossible.

Turkey Mountain to Tulsa Harbor? More like Tulsa Horror...

They want to do this...



... To this



In the last couple of days, Tulsa area runners have had a bit of a shock. One of the most beloved areas for trail running, trail biking and horseback riding is under assault by a developer who wants to build an amusement park on it. Turkey Mountain is no stranger to controversy.

　
In the past it has been a location for drug deals and other shady activities. But Tulsans have fought to care for this area and in recent years it has been cleaned up and cared for, more regularly patrolled and is, today, a center for the health-conscious, with it's series of trails frequented by 80,000 people a year.


...and this

 　


...and this



But now land developer Jimmy DeJarnette wants to throw away all that work by the citizens of Tulsa and put in an 80 acre "entertainment complex" including an amusement park, hotel resort and a racing museum. Touting jobs and tax dollars and calling it "the crown jewel of the Arkansas River", DeJarnette doesn't say anything about the disruption of lives in the community on the side of Turkey Mountain. He doesn't say anything about how trail runners will be affected. In fact, Mr. DeJarnette doesn't even seem interested, refusing to come out to a town hall meeting to hear and address concerns raised by his proposal. More disturbing to me personally, is that Jimmy DeJarnette seems upset that Tulsans would object to using Turkey Mountain for his "gift" as he calls it. It makes me wonder just what his real motivation is.


Would you like this to be a Ferris wheel?



　



Below is a letter I have written to my district council woman. I hope she takes note and realizes that there are so many more of us out there!

 　







The Honorable Karen Gilbert
Member, Tulsa City Council District 5
Dear Council Member Gilbert,
I have been following the recent developments with the proposed "Tulsa Harbor" development and have become rather upset by some of the things that have been said. In the past few years, Tulsa has made incredible strides in working to become a healthier city. In 2008, the Centers for Disease Control established the Healthy Communities Program. Since it's establishment, only 134 communities have been selected to join this group. in 2010, Tulsa was selected to be included in the membership of this elite group of communities which are committed to turning the tide of such chronic diseases as diabetes, heart disease and obesity. Since that time, through various projects with the River Parks Association and a growing number of volunteers, we have seen the improvement, clean up and use of the River Trails including those at Turkey Mountain and an increase in the quality of life for many Tulsans, including myself and many of those I know.

Now, we have Mr. Jimmy DeJarnette coming in and offering a "gift" of an amusement park on what should be the crowning jewel of Tulsa's own Healthy Communities Program. But Mr. DeJarnette won't come out to the public meeting and answer the concerns of the community he is so desiring to give this "gift" to. Mr. DeJarnette also seemed to be very annoyed by the very prospect that perhaps Tulsans might not be interested in his "gift". And Mr. DeJarnette has said he will not seek a different site for his "gift". It should give one pause to consider just whose good Mr. DeJarnette has in mind with the proposed project.
I understand the desire to have an amusement park nearby. It has not been that long ago that Tulsa had Bells in the midtown area. However, having an amusement park built needs to be carefully considered for placement, not just so that the park fits in with the landscape, but also so that it fits in with the people, the citizens of Tulsa. We, as a city, are getting healthier. Taking away one of the prime centers for that change would be counterproductive. It would be taking several steps backward in one of the most important areas of our life here in Tulsa. Please help us, the citizens of Tulsa, to continue moving forward, not backward.
Thank you for your time,Sincerely,

Robert W. Ray



Leave Turkey Mountain Alone, Mr. DeJarnette!



The Hills have I's - "Granny Down and Git 'er Done"

Well, once again, I have lived up to the name of this blog, rising long before dawn and getting ready for a big run. 9 miles. That figure loomed at me this morning as an unknown. Sure, I'd done more before. But not since my disasterous attempt at the Rt. 66. And not with the kind of hills I was about to face.

Today was the third training run in a row that I didn't have breakfast. So, when I got going at just before 0530 this morning, I was pretty quick to break into my nutrition for the day. Let me say that I had a plan for tackling these hills I'd only heard rumors about. And that included taking a more laid back approach than usual. I started off more slowly and it wasn't until 0615 that I started using my alarm for my 4 and 1 walk/run rotation. This gave me a bit more energy for the hills.

I actually ended up taking the hills in the opposite order this morning, failing to read the map properly until I was on top of the first one. The loop at 106th Street was the harder of the two sets of hills, not just for the steep grades, but because there were simply more hills. And like clockwork (hehe), my alarm goes off about half way up the introductory hill at that location. The only way I could keep "running" was to shorten my stride and just pump the best I could. Even then, I ended up only making about 45 seconds of the 1 minute. At this point, it was still dark and I didn't really have a full appreciation of the hill. I'm really glad of that.

I made it the rest of the way up that hill before my alarm went off, only to look another hill square in the face. Ok, in honesty, it wasn't another hil but a continuation of the one I'd started, but the grade was a bit less and I had a short flat spot that gave me a bit of a respite. Back on it and my alarm went off again. Yikes, this was really wearing me out. I cut the alarm off again at the 45 second mark in order to conserve energy. I was really using it up. I finished the climb and took a quick rest break. Liquids and nutrition intake and then back at it. Continuing down 106th there were a couple of small hills which didn't bother me too much and then I got to the turnaround. By this time it was starting to get light and I was able to realize the full difficulty I was facing, just getting turned around. My alarm went off just as I started the downhill portion on the Hidden Oaks turnaround. Well, I guess it was time to catch up on my running because it made the full minute and I was still on the downhill.
　

Now people who know me know I hate downhill. Downhill is, to me, the hardest part of running. It is harder on my knees than any other kind of running (except stairs) and at my weight... well, lets just say it isn't nice. But here I was running down hill and a pretty steep grade at that. To stop might just be to risk injury, so I continue to run in the "gear" I'm in, maintaining my speed until I get to the bottom. Finally, I get there, I guess I ended up doing a full 2 minutes of running. Guess I made up for the two shorter runs. But reaching the bottom only meant I had to climb back up and so I chugged along going back up. After all of that, it was time to get off this set of hills and get on with the rest of the course. I'd gone the first 4 miles.
　

There was a good half mile of flat running to get to the second set of hills. If I'd have followed the course correctly, I'd have gotten here first, in the dark. Initially, I wasn't worried about it. It didn't look too bad. Not at half a mie it didn't. That changed as I got closer. And it was at that point that people started catching up to me, too. Remember, though. I was coming up on 5 miles... they were coming up on 3. I turned and headed up the hill. It wasn't as steep as the ones at 106th, but the hill at 111th was longer. Similarly, though, it, too, had a flat spot for a little recovery. This was a good thing as I needed every break I could get at this point. I was chugging. I got to the turnaround and only a few people had been there before me this morning. I was feeling accomplished but tired and I still had 4 more miles to go, so I took a quick break, took off my right shoe which had been bothering me and did what adjustments I could. Put it back on and cinched it down so it wouldn't wiggle so much and trooped on. Coming down off the hill was again, not quite as much struggle as I had thought it would be. I came off it actually fairly strong with a quick rest break at about 2/3 of the way down. I drained the last of my carried fluids (I was past the water stop early and they hadn't been set up yet), got up and trotted the rest of the way down the hill. I was feeling pretty good, although my knees were a but on the sore side. On the way down, David Sargent caught me speeding and I was asked if I had any advice on taking the hill. My reply was "Granny down and git 'er done." In case you don't know, its an old truck driver's term for using a lower gear to climb a steep grade in the mountains. You select the lowest gear you can make it up with because if you miss a gear shifting, you're gonna go back down backwards. Not a pretty sight.

Finally, I was free of the big hills and I just had 3 and a half more miles to go. I filled up at the water stop and headed out for the last part feeling very accomplished. Then I hit mile 7 and man, the weight of the effort up the hills started taking it's toll. I had put out such effort and used up so much of my energy store that I was runnning out. I hadn't "hit the wall", but I knew I was starting to struggle. I just kept on saying to my self "Just another 2 miles," "Just another 1 and a half miles," "Just another mile." Struggling through, I finally made it back to the finish. I was beat and beat up, but I made it. I finished the 9 miles I set out to do. I finished it with my first true confidence in being able to go the distance. Today was 3 more miles than I have gone since that fateful day in November of last year and was certainly more hilly than I have done in a long time. Now I have the hills!

Thankful Thursday - This Side of the Dirt

For today's Thankful Thursday post I am breaking with the current pattern. I had thought about not posting anything, but then being that today is Thursday and I am thankful about this, I am going to post about what happened to me this week and why I am thankful. This post will be short because of this.

After the Poker Run on Saturday, I developed a slight cough, which worsened over the remainder of the weekend. Because I had a VA doctor's appointment first thing Monday morning, I basically didn't worry about it too much.

Going in for my appointment, the Vamps had to stick me twice to get the right vein and extract the blood they needed for my usual panel. Then the wait began. Since it was a fasting lab, I then strolled down to the snack bar there at the VA and got some breakfast and I sat down to study some. Times like these seem to build inspiration and this was no different. I got a lot out of my study time and it passed the time quickly so that before I knew it, it was time for my doctor's appointment. The nurse called me in and checked my vitals. Blood pressure was a little high, but since my foot and elbow have been hurting me and my cough was getting worse, we decided it could be due to those things. At that point, she offered me a flu shot and a pneumonia vaccine.

Now, my cough had been getting worse and I was beginning to have a lot of chest congestion, so I was concerned about the possibility of contracting pneumonia. On top of that, it was just a bit over a year ago that my mom passed away due to complications with pneumonia. So I decided to err on the side of caution and consented to the pneumonia vaccine. So she gave it to me and then I waited briefly to see the doc.

The doc had good news for me. First and foremost, my A1C (Long-term blood sugar - what they use to diagnose diabetes) was lower. It had been as high as 6.3 which was just .1 away from a diagnosis of diabetes. But with a lot of work, I had brought it down below 6 by my last checkup, just a few short months ago. Well, Monday's reading was 5.7. Which is within the normal range! And this is even though I had not been taking my Metformin (Diabetic drug) for the past 6 weeks!!

To go along with that, I also had a better result on the cholesterol tests as well! I was really beginning to like that. Then he looked at my elbow and said that it was tennis elbow, so something that can be recovered from without too much difficulty. He ordered a strap for my arm from the VA's Prosthetics shop and said to try to take it easy on the arm and it should heal fine. Finally, he looked at my foot. He sent me to x-ray for the foot, but didn't think it was going to be anything major. He agreed that it did not sound like plantar faciitis. Again, more good news.


Imagine me sitting in my cubicle
at work typing away on my
computer dressed like this



Finally I am done with the VA and head to work, feeling pretty well with the world. Monday night, I notice a slight fever, but not too bad. The papers they gave me with the vaccine said I could expect that. By the time I woke up Tuesday, I have a full blown fever and chills. I also have a huge lump on my arm where they gave me the shot. It's about the size of a baseball!! I'm not feeling good, so I bundle up and head in to work, I've missed enough time from Monday. At work, I don't shed my sweater, I also wear my running cap and my running gloves, just trying to stay warm. The fever is really burning - But at least it helps keep my mind off of the fact that it is the 14th.

Can you see the baseball?

While at work, I call the nurse at the VA and advise them of how things are going, about my fever and chills and the baseball in my arm. She doesn't like it and suggests that I come in. I tell her that I'm at work in Claremore and it just isn't feasible for me to make it in, but should my symptoms worsen or continue to persist, I'd be in in the morning. I leave for the day, having only eaten some breakfast, and head straight home for the bed.

Tuesday night was the worst. My fever continued to rise. 101F when I left for work. a little over 102 by the time I got home. At about 11pm Tuesday night, my fever spiked at 103.9. I was just about to make my way to the ER. I decided to give it an hour and if it didn't get better, I'd go. I asked for prayer and I prayed the best I could under the feverish and nearly delusional conditions. Finally, at about a quarter til midnight, I started sweating. I continued to stay huddled under the covers for a while and let it sweat out. Finally, I check my temp. down to just over 100F. I didn't like that, but I could live with it. I started getting my faculties back and I also was able to eat a little for the first time since 8am.

Wednesday morning, I get up and head back the VA. When I check in with the nurse and told her what had happened, she said she didn't think it would get that bad. Then when I showed her my arm, she said she never expected that. I think she thought I was exaggerating, especially since I didn't want to come in the previous day. Finally, the doctor took a look at it and put me on a steroid regime for extreme allergic reaction. They also charted the vaccine as an allergy and he told me to stay home for a day. The nurse said that when the fever hit 103.9F, I should have headed to the ER. She said that it could have been much worse. Judging by the looks and her reactions, I think she was surprised I was even still breathing, but she didn't say so. By Wednesday evening, I was feeling good enough to get out of the house for a short time, so I went to church. I was a bit short tempered, but that is likely a symptom of the fever. The fever finally broke sometime overnight and I am finally down to my normal temp.

Yes, those are blisters

Oh... and one more thing before I go... the results from the x-rays - a small bone spur in the elbow, which could periodically cause some problems, but shouldn't normally.  and on my foot... a couple of small heel spurs, but not any change from the last time I had my foot x-rayed back a couple of years ago for my turf toe, which has not bothered me in almost a year now.  YAY!


So all this to say one thing. This Thankful Thursday, I am thankful to be on this side of the dirt!