Rescued By RockTape

Mike Tyson infamously said, "Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth," We were half a mile into an eight mile hike on the Black Creek Trail, when an unexpected punch arrived and did its best to disrupt my plans. The second major voyage of the Southern Trail Hiking Club. We met just outside of Wiggins, MS. Slightly overcast. Slightly cold. Everyone full of energy and smiles. No sign of any trouble looming on the horizon. But it was there, coyly hiding just out of sight. Waiting for an opportunity to pounce. And then... it happened.

First the left boot. Felt like it was dragging. Then flopping. And... yeah... the sole of the boot apparently dry-rotted after too many blazing summers in the garage... and on the trail, the more solid rubber began to detach from leather underside. That boot wasn't going to last very long. And... yeah... the LEFT boot was also dry rotted.... and while crossing HW49, an odd step felt completely uncushioned, because the entire left sole had detached and was sitting in the road, cold and lonely.

Fortunately, my newly provisioned medical pouch contained a secret ingredient. Lo and behold, the boots ended up being rescued by... RockTape! A couple of strips over the top. A strip over the toe. A strip over the heel. On BOTH boots. And they proceeded to hold for 7.5 miles. Almost 20,000 steps through mud, rocks, sand, and straw covered hills, that RockTape held those rotten soles in place and helped me get back to the car without going full blown Flintstone.

So, yes, the punch hurt. But it didn't ruin my plans. And we all had a great time together on the Black Creek Trail.

Frosted Fanny 2016

Slightly cold. Slightly overcast. 45 degrees and cloud. But my Clydesdales Crew rocked the Frost Fanny for 2016. Two mile run + 10 mile bike + 2 mile run. And they all finished strong. Very proud of each of them all the time and dedication they've put in this year. They stuck to their plans, paced well, and performed well. Afterward, they all recovered quickly and were smiling ear to ear.

A good way to start the year. The highlight of my month. And a lot more to come!

Stepping Up

First weekend of increased mobility in the wake of The Procedure. Have been increasing my volume of steps each day since ditching The Blue Crutches.

• Wednesday: 1703 steps
• Thursday: 2430 steps
• Friday: 5740 steps
• Saturday: 6383 steps

Very happy with the direct of my recovery. And overall progress. Very little pain. Most of my non-fitness activities have returned to their norms. And once the stitches are removed (on Wednesday) there should be an opportunity to introduce some mobility work and maybe some light training. In the meanwhile, it is just one day at a time.

Covered all the steps today by visiting the Long Beach Farmer's Market, then went to hang out with my parents for a while, and finally had lunch with RPG. Enjoyed catching up with everyone and getting out of the house for several hours. 

Wrapped up the day with a walk through the neighborhood, some MMA on television, and a marathon round of Clean Up Jon's Bookmarks (six years worth!) 

Great day! Looking forward to many more in the future.

Did well enough

Nothing like a little 47 mile bike ride to start your morning. Luke, Jack & Onnie, Jen & Chris, and IronNerd.

The usual route around Robinwood, then over to the Traditions course, up to 67, to Loraine Cowan, and back again.

You can imagine how it went: long, hot, sweaty, and ultimately boring. Worst of all, it only burned 1300 calories!

Happy with the outcome. Did well enough. Hopefully it continues to improve.

We shall see.

Humidity & Burnt Ends

Eldest Brother Kimmer ventured through the heat to get some PT for his new FrankenKnee. (Four weeks old, today!) Almost an hour on the recumbent bike for him. A mile in the pool for me, then a couple of miles on the recumbent. Both of us working on improving our form and waging the continual war against aging. Just over a decade (or was it a century?) ago, we would hit the gym together, in Atlanta. His stack of weights went anywhere from 200 - 400 pounds. My stack would rarely break 100 pounds. His pecs were bigger than my head. And on "leg day," he'd bring the whole gym to a screeching halt as we loaded more than 1400lbs onto the leg press sled and he'd do dozens of reps. Sometimes having me stand on top, when he wanted a real challenge. These days, he's a cancer survivor. slowly replacing bits and pieces of himself that have worn out, and working on the range of motion instead of his one rep max.

After the gym, we stopped by one of my favorite local joints: Murky Waters for an unrivaled dose of humidity & burnt ends & blues in the Deep South. We both ended up rocking a plate of 'ends. Mine showed up with fried okra. (When onion rings were ordered.) But they ended up being consumed along with multiple beers and anything else that landed on the bar in front of us.

Believe it or not, but we usually talk on a daily basis. Even though we're hundreds of miles apart. (The same with Uncle Ron, btw!) Thank you, Mister Internet. So on occasions like these, when we get together in person, we catch up quickly and rapidly get down to business: complaining about our age, the state of the union, and the ever-increasing-impossibility of actually retiring one day.  We relive some of the glory days. Compare notes on missing comrades. And eventually drag back to our kids and wives and the routine drag of our new normal.

We'll see what the rest of his trip holds. Hopefully more training and more nights on the town. Everything in moderation. And everything enjoyed while it lasts.

The Hall Mob Returns

Kim & Nenna came down for their annual pilgrimage to South Hell. Much more difficult this year, though. Complications include: three kids, two dogs, and one artificial joint. (Poor Nenna!) Last year, Kimmer was recovering from cancer. This year, he's brought a four week old, bionic knee! (He does nothing lightly.) He's doing very well, though. The scar is beginning to fade. He's barely using a cane to walk. And the pain diminishes on a regular basis.  Then, on top of their own challenges, just as they arrive, the first hurricane of the season enters the Gulf. (Though it will eventually take a very hard right turn and sputter out over central Florida.) Ominous foreshadowing?

We grab some lunch at the Cajun Crawfish Hut and meet the new addition to his family. It shocks all of us to consider that Liam (my oldest) could actually have a child Mark's age (Kim's youngest!) Making me eligible to be a grandfather? Once upon a time, Kimmer played Santa Claus for my children, at Christmas. These days, my kids could babysit his. Man oh man oh man, time flies quickly. Too damn quickly....

Grandman Pre-Race Party

Long day of work. Pack pack pack. Long drive to the Eastern Shore Motel. Traffic in the tunnel. Hot and humid the whole way. Pick up the race packet. #360 for Your Humble Narrator. Scope the course. Fight off the hunger long enough be one of the first people to the Pre-Race Party. Rotolo's. Pizza shop with lots of personality. Mimosa cider! Buffalo chicken wrap. Thirty minute wait to get our checks. End up getting back to the motel late. Discover my room is nearly adjacent to the heavily-trafficked highway. But the attendant won't allow me to change rooms. Joy. The bed is made of bricks. The pillows are thinner than most pot-holders. And the AC barely keeps the room cool, let alone cold. Prediction? Tonight will suck.

Enough Adventure

One pint too many last night and paid for it this morning. Most unpleasant swimming 1200 yards without a wetsuit. Then we hopped on the bikes for a HR Zone 2. 17.9MPH but only 124BPM. Then a crazy sweaty ten minute run. All three pieces. Good times with good friends. Approaching 21 weeks until The Main Event. We're probably half way there already. Will build up the rest across the next 4+ months. In the furnace of South Mississippi....

After training and getting lunch, hit the road with Kidd Maestro. Checked out some different jazz bass guitars. First music place had a Fender and a second hand amp at a reasonable price. Second place (actually our favorite) had the same Fender but a bigger selection of guitars and we were able to noticeably hear the difference between some of them. In the end, the owner (a bassist himself) convinced us to pick up an Ibanez  (that Liam absolutely loved) and a new 300W amp. Took it home and it is night and day different than his old bass. Much better sound and far greater range of versatility. So we took it back home and he played for hours, looking forward to the jam session on Monday.

Then an unexpected surprise: Nenna (Kimmer's Wife) had a kidney stone flare up and they decided to head to the ER to get it checked out professionally. They dropped off Ethan and we all hung out for a couple of hours. SUPER sweet little boy. We'd have quick, cute conversations and talk about his favorite cartoons. He decided he wanted to watch Thomas The Tank Enginer, like Liam used to. Then one by one, every except me & Ethan went to sleep. First Meg went to her room. Then Liam went off to his. And finally, Cindy fell asleep on the sofa next to me. Approaching midnight, Kim & Nenna made it out of the ER. Us boys were still awake and able to get everything packed without any drama or concerns.

That's enough adventure for one day, methinks.

Seaside Half Marathon - 2015

Actually slept last night. Despite the foreign bed. Despite the pending race. We finished dinner, turned in early, and embraced the resulting silence. Which helped when the alarm started at five o'clock. Then the usual silence as everyone performed their pre-race rituals. Mine included: coffee, vitamins, KT tape, plenty of stretching, and the internal struggle over What To Wear. By six thirty, we were all ready and prepared to walk a block (ha!) to the starting line where 3,997 other racers were huddled in the grey air.

Found several people from The MS Gulf Coast wandering the crowd. IPA folks. Triathlon folks. And all our various handlers. Seeing so many familiar faces among the smiling racers helped take off the edge. The cold was a bit crispy, but everyone was in good spirits. Surprisingly quiet, well mannered. And eager to get started. Somehow, Allison & Nancy vanished, then Robin (fellow Ticking Tri Bomb) ended up next to me. Quick hug. Some chatter about pacing. And when the clock struck seven o'clock, the race gun sounded.

My plan to was to start close to the front, maintain a quickish pace at first, settle into something comfortable once the crowd thinned, and then cruise on the way back. That was the plan. Early into it, we went too fast, closer to minutes than nine. By the time the crowd thinned, nine minute miles were the norm. However my memory of a somewhat flat course was corrected around three miles into it when the rolling hills appeared. Nothing difficult, but they did not help. Nor did the slanting rise in the road at each curve. At the half way point, my watch showed my pace was BELOW the two hour point. Very happy! Much awesomeness. Made the turn, grabbed a gel, and prepared for the return trip.
Return trip did not go very well. By mile eight, my left knee (the one that died last year) began to protest. By nine miles it started to hurt to the point where keeping any reasonable pace was going to damage something. Barely beat my 10 mile pace from last week, but crept after that. Wanted to pick it up more and get it over with. Felt this gnawing desire to "push through the pain." But in the back of my head, ghosts of failed races from 2014 started to resurface.

Ended up slowing enough for Nancy to catch me. She was hurting, too. Her calf. My knee. Partners in pain. We finished the last two miles in shared suffering. Every couple of hundred meters one of us would say, "Almost there." Then we could see the finish line. Then the crowd was cheering. We held hands and raised them high as we crossed the line. Done at last. Her 25th half marathon. (Not sure of mine.) Both of us eager to get this one behind us. Didn't break two hours. Didn't PR. But finished in 2:19:50, which beat last year's time.

Things blurred after that. Drank a 30oz mimosa that didn't touch me. Allison finished her very FIRST marathon and gave us all a tear-filled hug. Returned to the rental house to get some more layers. Which didn't ultimately help. Had a free beer that wasn't great but went down quickly. BBQ was slightly better than last year. And ended up browsing the local stores rather than crash from the uncontrollable shaking that gradually threatened to overcome me.

Eventually, we all recovered our legs, shuffled back to the rental for some real beers, a shower, and a change of clothes. When we had caught our breath and made ourselves presentable, we went BACK out for Lunch #2. Chili dogs from Wild Bill's and a few more beers. Finally, felt warm and right and happy. And the world was beautiful once again.

Anyway. Another half marathon in the books. Not the prettiest. But it is done. And on to the next adventure...

Decompressing

There are never enough hours in the day. Few opportunities for actually decompressing. Today for example. Up at 0700. Provide technical support for the church. Drop Meg off at theater. Groceries. Order new swim goggles. (Which turned out to be complicated due to the severity of my vision!) Organize the accumulated debris in my room. Pack. Plan. Write. And STILL never reach the end of my tasks...

Wrapped up last night by taking Meg & Liam to Mugshots for dinner & drinks. Cindy had a headache. Daddy had two Angry Orchard + Mystery Romps. Toasted and thought of and sent good karma to all my friends in Disney, preparing to wrap up their long weekend of running. 5K, 10K, Half Marathon, Full Marathon.

Godspeed, friends, you're in my heart & thoughts!

Maybe IronNerd will be there, next year...

Ron's Nuts

First present and first Christmas card of the year turned out to be something exciting and unique: Ron's nuts. My buddy, Meinsler, sent some  Pennsylvania Black Walnuts. Straight from his back yard to  my front door. Ron warned that his nuts were unusually hard. They could wreck a normal nut cracker. So he included special instructions for getting into his nuts. Something involving a hammer plus a steel plate. And Ron warned that his nuts had a very distinct taste. They not something you just immediately try to devour. You have to get to know them. Slowly. And take your time with them. They're very special nuts, and Your Humble Narrator is very happy to have a friend willing to share them with him. Plus, Ron beat everyone in the race to share their love with me! And that goes a long way in my book.

So, thanks, Ron! Your nuts were well received at my house! Even the dog has been enjoying a good sniff of them.

We Can Breathe

A week to the day and he returns.

Xray clear.
CT clear.
Bone scan clear.

Not just good news, but GREAT! news.

Finally, we can breathe, again.

Modern Bad News

Packets. They can carry anything. Even modern bad news. Sometimes so serious it takes me several awkward minutes to figure out just how much fit has hit the shan.

"You will feel some pressure." Captioned with the picture. 

Results day. Supposed to hear from his doctor. Forgot check on him, trapped in my narrow world. But he can't forget. Reaches out to let me know. And amid what must be the definition of horror, he is still joking with me. Strongest man in my life.

Ones and zeros.  A digital tipping point. End up trying not to cry at work. Thanks to packets. Bastards.

Playlisted

In my old age, things are simpler. Bacchanal happiness comes easy. One part near-freezing cider. One part tunage. And one part comradeship. Of course the cider must be plentiful. (Too many pints tonight, though.) The music has to be loud. (But we playlisted too long.) And the comrade must be trusted and honest and forthright. (Hard to find.)

Post-work adventures at my favoritest super dive, Rooney's. 90s jams on TouchTunes. Plates of smoked brisket from Murky Waters. And not a sign of seriousness or responsibility or obligations to be found. Just a couple of hours of catching up and decompressing.

Cheap. Easy. Simple.

Keeps a man 95% happy. And helps steel him for the remaining 5%.

Old & New

Caught up with an old classmate today. Malise M. swung through town with her husband, Chris. They've been in New Orleans this week. Indulging on good food, Southern music, and mild summer nights off Bourbon. We caught lunch at Harbor View. Met with Officer Mikey. Talked about fitness, old classmates' updates, Austin, Seattle, and their travels across the globe. Strange clicking so quickly after a twenty five year gap. They had great stories. We dug up old memories. And hopefully my tales didn't bore them.

Afterwards, caught a new movie with Liam & Bryce. (The truck next to us in the parking lot accidentally left a clean spot.) New Godzilla movie. Interesting spin on a classic. Enjoyed the clever opening credits. Thought the plot had some merit. But wanted some more giant monster combat and less unnecessary character development. The movie required a little too much suspension of disbelief towards the end. Couple of the critical pieces just too implausible for my tastes. But it was a monster movie afterall. And the kiddos loved it. If there's a sequel, we'll go see it!

Cinco De Numb

Celebrated Cinco De Mayo with a loud, prolonged visit to Rooney's. Super dive and supremely perfect place to numb one's wounds. Met by my life long chum, Roger. The two of us toasting to another fruitful trip around the sun. He with rum & coke. Me with icy pints of their finest Woodchuck. Tunes from the jukebox. A drunken lass showing us the stigmatic scars on her leg and tells of being impaled while climbing a fence in NOLA. Excellent BBQ from next door. Roger going for the pulled pork sammich. My plate heaped with terribly delicious brisket. And occasionally, we'd play Mexican music. In part to honor of the holiday. But mostly to have a chuckle and forget about everything else haunting our days. Our own holiday: Cinco De Numb.

Afterwards, back at Ye Ol House, the cider singing behind my eyes and my effing leg finally not hurting, Liam pulls out my old guitar and experiments. Taking classical tunes from his chamber group, his part on the double bass, and playing it on the acoustic. Tries to explain how he's able to translate the notes in real time. But none of the terms stick to my age-slicked gray matter. Harmonic this. Three octaves that. The technicalities aren't what matter. His awesomeness that does. And how effortlessly he does it. A gift we can only pray he grows to appreciate. Where ever it came from...

He's beautiful and talented. My pains are numbed. Roger's still among the living. And we all live happily after.

Visiting Kimmer

Spent my Sunday visiting Kimmer & Family. They drove down yesterday. Staying in their favorite condo. Ethan breaking into his second year. Cute as a little bug. Wanting to pinch those pudgy cheeks of his. Full of energy and excitement. On the go, non-stop. Sounds like any little redhead in my life?

Here's the crazy orbit we spin through. My history with Kimmer goes back to the late 90s, when we worked at MindSpring. He had a grown son and my kids were still in the planning stages. We would hang out after work, eating incredibly stupid food, drinking insane amounts of alcohol, and occasionally going to the gym and pretend to train. Fifteen years later, Kim has a toddler, my kids have become teens, and neither of us drink or eat like we used. Neither of us ever would have predicted these crazy adventures. And we still talk almost daily.

Post food, Ethan (and Kimmer?) needed a nap. So we hit the beach for some open sea swimming, while Mommy babysat.Beautiful day for it. Touch breezy. Smidge over-cast. Interesting waves. But not brutal. wetsuit for me. Beach chair for Kimmer. He'd watch me do my version of laps. Out, through the breakers, maybe 200 meters, and back again. Much easier than Dauphin Island. (Thankfully!) Clearer water. Could see the bottom much of the time. But a stronger rip current dragging to the west. 6 laps. Maybe 1600 - 2400 meters. A good prep for Gulf Coast in two weeks.

Kim took a couple of pictures. If you squint and use your vivid imagination, you just might be able to spot the rare and elusive Aqua Nerd!

Afterwards, even more food! Some Mexican. (To offset the Cajun lunch we had at Stinky's Fish Camp!) And then Ol Jon had to hit the road for the long, lonely ride home to a quiet, sleeping house. Three hours each way. On the heels of my first triathlon of the season. Quite a task.

A great time, with great friends. Reminds me of what life is about.

If only it could have been stretched out for a week...

Tuxachanie Trail Run

After a briefly exciting round of  powerlifting this morning, Luke talked me into a trail down the quiet Tuxachanie. Thankfully the weather was extremely cooperative. High fifties. Low sixties? Just enough sunlight to warm us up. Not enough to overheat, or sunburn, us.

Turned out to be a decent crowd. Especially for such short notice. Luke said it was Tugboat pace. Inside joke. Tugboats are his term for folks (like me!) that train a good bit but will never be on the podium. Pretty much: normal people! But non-obsessive people, Luke would likely say. Not obsessive cavemen.

Anyway. Informal group met after lunch. Warmed up. Checked our supplies. Put in the earbuds. And hit the trail.

Fairly easy pace. But Your Humble Narrator gradually fell behind. And by the three mile mark he was all by his lonesome. Never fear, loyal readers, he was fine. By four and a half miles, it was time to turn around. The rest of the crowd had likely reached the end. With their pace, they would likely catch me on the return trip.

By the seventh mile, my arches were starting to hurt. Wasn't much "running" on the trail after that. A little. But mostly walking. As the second hour approached, so did the entrance.

All in all, a great little excursion. Something different than the normal. And challenging. With some friends and fellow Tugboats. We'll have to do that more often. Until the sun and mosquitoes spoil it for us.

Icy Pints - Gulfport

Inaugural run of the Icy Pints Athletic team from its new Gulfport chapter at Irish Coast Pub. Got there early. Brought running shorts AND pants, in case of weather. Brought a big ol' jug of water to hydrate. Pre-fueled the rocket with some Xyience. Then discovered a complete lack of running shoes. Which promptly cranked my usually repressed levels of anger from 2 to 11. And the profanity began...

Eventually, the rage was re-repressed by copious amounts of cider and pleasant company. Turned out to be a pleasant night. Despite my lack of training or sweating or cardiovascular conditioning.

Your Humble Narrator will like return for additional Icy visits. It's the usual Tuesday run with the usual Tuesday people on the usual Tuesday route outside the usual Tuesday pub. Just new management. Same ol sweat. And same ol' Jon still attempting to be an athlete.

So, welcome Icy Pint. Gulfport is glad to have you!

On A Monday

Never a dull moment in these parts. I certainly live in interesting times.

• Liam sick this morning. Stayed home, without any electronics. Took a nap on the sofa. Him and Molly Dog snoozing on a cool Autumn Monday.
  
• A pair of drives in a RAID 5 array die, taking a bit of data with them. Of course finding the actual problem (versus the symptoms) took a while. Fixing it took even longer. You'd think the folks who get paid to work on SQL would be able to offer advice on fixing problems. You'd have thought wrong. It was pretty much a tag team shotgun fight with me & KV versus SQL & the array.
  
• Pulled my right hamstring while reaching down for a napkin. Bothered me for hours. Hoping it won't interfere with my training tomorrow. Whole bunch of hurt, just for a napkin.
  
• Cindy's neck acting up. God Willing she graduates in like 49 days.
  
• Meg officially the busiest 11yr old on Earth with music and art and theater claiming parts of her days.
  
• GH flying home from an interesting trip. AE still struggling just to make ends meet while just one paycheck from the street. AG starting a new relationship. Lightning alone. All these relationships spinning madly through the ether. Never slowing. Sometimes good. Sometimes bad. Sometimes both. Sometimes neither.
  
• A project unexpectedly gains traction. Perhaps the worm has turned and my perseverance and mostly-charity-work will pay off in the long run. One way or another, I'm eager to know.
  
• Last minute reboot of the Citrix systems before I wander to bed. 

The rest is rust and stardust.