I ran Kelly and Katie off the back porch this morning fertilizing the plants.
I use my 2.5-gallon sprayer with an organic mixture (I buy at Roach Feed and Seed in downtown Garland) that contains, among other things, fish and seaweed and molasses.
The every other week smell reminds me of all those fishing trips we made when I was a kid growing up in Corpus Christi.
Kelly and Katie don't share those memories, so for them it's just stink.
Life with Nelson.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
I Wimped Out, To Save the Planet
I made it about 1/3 of the way to running with Team Goldilocks this morning, checked my watch, made a U-turn, and went back home and did my morning run there.
I'm into the whole green thing these days. It's a pretty long drive from my house to the the start location. I knew if I ran with the Team once, I'd be hooked. I wish I lived closer.
I just couldn't do it. I've written articles for the paper on going green. I've set a goal of going a whole month between fill-ups (I've gone as far as 23 days so far -- OK, so I drove Kelly's car for a few days.) My drive to and from work is only about 10 minutes, on side streets. I try to limit myself to 1 lunch trip per week.
I'm buying Stonyfield Farms yogurt, and shopping Patagonia (when I have a gift card) these days -- both very green companies. I'm trying to buy local, in-season, organic when I can. I bring my own shopping bags to the store. I'm making my own Gatorade -- trying to avoid all those bottles in the recycling bin. Running my sprinkler system manually.
It just didn't seem right to be doing those things, and then to get in the truck and drive 25 minutes or so each way to run, when I can sleep a little later, head out the front door and do my run, be back in time for coffee and the morning funnies, and leave a much smaller carbon footprint.
I know that the porridge at the Team Goldilocks runs is just right -- because I've looked at the team members, and they're my favorite runners on the planet. But, Papa Bear's porridge is going to have to do for me.
I'm into the whole green thing these days. It's a pretty long drive from my house to the the start location. I knew if I ran with the Team once, I'd be hooked. I wish I lived closer.
I just couldn't do it. I've written articles for the paper on going green. I've set a goal of going a whole month between fill-ups (I've gone as far as 23 days so far -- OK, so I drove Kelly's car for a few days.) My drive to and from work is only about 10 minutes, on side streets. I try to limit myself to 1 lunch trip per week.
I'm buying Stonyfield Farms yogurt, and shopping Patagonia (when I have a gift card) these days -- both very green companies. I'm trying to buy local, in-season, organic when I can. I bring my own shopping bags to the store. I'm making my own Gatorade -- trying to avoid all those bottles in the recycling bin. Running my sprinkler system manually.
It just didn't seem right to be doing those things, and then to get in the truck and drive 25 minutes or so each way to run, when I can sleep a little later, head out the front door and do my run, be back in time for coffee and the morning funnies, and leave a much smaller carbon footprint.
I know that the porridge at the Team Goldilocks runs is just right -- because I've looked at the team members, and they're my favorite runners on the planet. But, Papa Bear's porridge is going to have to do for me.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
For Everything a Season
As I was driving to this morning's run, I saw a billboard for Chubby's Restaurant at Jupiter and Northwest Highway. And, I thought some of us are driving down to go run 7 miles, and some of us are driving down for some fried eggs, country potatoes, bacon, and biscuits with sausage gravy.
Don't get me wrong. For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to run, and a time to eat biscuits and gravy. (Hey, that's not in the Bible!)
I'm glad I am in my running season.
Don't get me wrong. For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to run, and a time to eat biscuits and gravy. (Hey, that's not in the Bible!)
I'm glad I am in my running season.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Another Life First -- 100-Degree Run
I work for a health and wellness company. One of our subsidiaries is a life insurance company, which means most of us have excellent life insurance coverage. And, that's why I wasn't overly worried about last night's run.
When I left the house a little after 6, my wireless thermometer on the back porch in the shade read 105.2. Maybe it was much cooler by 7 -- maybe just 100.
As we stood in the sun waiting to start, Chris said "take your time, don't overdo, stop if you feel lightheaded." OK, I thought, I'm a little lightheaded right now.
As we got going, our fearless pace leader was yelling out, "you should be able to have a conversation." I was having a conversation, alright, the entire 4 miles, "Lord, forgive me for putting you to the test like this. Hail Mary. Glory be. Our Father..." A virtual rosary of running.
After the turnaround, headed back, I thought I heard Mary audibly responding to me -- from way out in the distance, maybe from the lake. She was yelling out, "Push yourself, but be comfortable. Find your happy place." "Mary, is that you?" I thought, "Are you coming to take me home? Mary, happy place?"
In all fairness, I had a better 4 miles in the heat than I had 6 miles last Saturday. It was actually OK. I chalk that up to clean living and finally starting to eat right.
My run this morning was boooring. Now that I know what running with a group is like, I'm not such the good company I once thought I was.
Regarding my life insurance. I'm worth exponentially more if my demise is accident-related. So, 10:30-11 team, if I crash and burn and it looks like I'm not going to make it -- do my family a favor and make it look like an accident.
When I left the house a little after 6, my wireless thermometer on the back porch in the shade read 105.2. Maybe it was much cooler by 7 -- maybe just 100.
As we stood in the sun waiting to start, Chris said "take your time, don't overdo, stop if you feel lightheaded." OK, I thought, I'm a little lightheaded right now.
As we got going, our fearless pace leader was yelling out, "you should be able to have a conversation." I was having a conversation, alright, the entire 4 miles, "Lord, forgive me for putting you to the test like this. Hail Mary. Glory be. Our Father..." A virtual rosary of running.
After the turnaround, headed back, I thought I heard Mary audibly responding to me -- from way out in the distance, maybe from the lake. She was yelling out, "Push yourself, but be comfortable. Find your happy place." "Mary, is that you?" I thought, "Are you coming to take me home? Mary, happy place?"
In all fairness, I had a better 4 miles in the heat than I had 6 miles last Saturday. It was actually OK. I chalk that up to clean living and finally starting to eat right.
My run this morning was boooring. Now that I know what running with a group is like, I'm not such the good company I once thought I was.
Regarding my life insurance. I'm worth exponentially more if my demise is accident-related. So, 10:30-11 team, if I crash and burn and it looks like I'm not going to make it -- do my family a favor and make it look like an accident.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Garland Smells in the Morning
The big news on our side of Garland is that QuikTrip opens in 3 days. We must be Dorito-heads in northwest Garland, because there were 2 Doritos trucks unloading out front this morning.
Garland smells in the morning. Sometimes good, sometimes not so good.
Almost every morning (that I run) I experience the dreaded loud, smelly trash truck. It roars by leaving a thick cloud of stink, dripping liquid stink on the roadway. It pulls up to dumpsters, tosses them high in the air, shakes and bangs them a couple of times, and then slams them back down. And, in my area of Garland, usually close to someone who is sleeping. I guess the location that bothers me most is the Alzheimer's/memory care center. These poor people have a hard enough time sleeping, I'm sure, without the sound of crashing metal outside their windows at 4:30 in the morning.
This morning a group of cars drove by, and I smelled my 2nd grade teacher, Mrs. Salvatore's perfume. I was one of Mrs. Salvatore's favorites, and she invited me to be on a small team to work after school to plant a school garden. I'll never forget the first day we worked, she took all of us into the teacher's lounge and bought us each a bottle of Coke. That was probably the highlight of my elementary school time, except for the time I got to help Dalene Owens carry our class Christmas tree to school.
Many mornings I smell the same guy drive by, and his cologne almost overwhelms me. I feel for those who have to work close to him. (Note to guys: I work in HR. We get calls constantly complaining about your cologne. Please either barely put it on, or avoid cologne altogether at work. And, at races and group runs -- please don't. If you need a good aftershave, pick up a bottle of SeaBreeze at the store -- it works as a wonderful and refreshing aftershave.)
Sometimes I smell Starbucks brewing; when the north wind is blowing, cinnamon rolls at Tom Thumb. Sometimes I know that Uncle Ollie and Aunt Novella are with me because I smell Skin Bracer strong (when no cars are around) and sausage patties frying up (when I'm in an open field).
I don't smell myself much, anymore, now that I've started washing my running clothes after each run.
Garland smells in the morning. Sometimes good, sometimes not so good.
Almost every morning (that I run) I experience the dreaded loud, smelly trash truck. It roars by leaving a thick cloud of stink, dripping liquid stink on the roadway. It pulls up to dumpsters, tosses them high in the air, shakes and bangs them a couple of times, and then slams them back down. And, in my area of Garland, usually close to someone who is sleeping. I guess the location that bothers me most is the Alzheimer's/memory care center. These poor people have a hard enough time sleeping, I'm sure, without the sound of crashing metal outside their windows at 4:30 in the morning.
This morning a group of cars drove by, and I smelled my 2nd grade teacher, Mrs. Salvatore's perfume. I was one of Mrs. Salvatore's favorites, and she invited me to be on a small team to work after school to plant a school garden. I'll never forget the first day we worked, she took all of us into the teacher's lounge and bought us each a bottle of Coke. That was probably the highlight of my elementary school time, except for the time I got to help Dalene Owens carry our class Christmas tree to school.
Many mornings I smell the same guy drive by, and his cologne almost overwhelms me. I feel for those who have to work close to him. (Note to guys: I work in HR. We get calls constantly complaining about your cologne. Please either barely put it on, or avoid cologne altogether at work. And, at races and group runs -- please don't. If you need a good aftershave, pick up a bottle of SeaBreeze at the store -- it works as a wonderful and refreshing aftershave.)
Sometimes I smell Starbucks brewing; when the north wind is blowing, cinnamon rolls at Tom Thumb. Sometimes I know that Uncle Ollie and Aunt Novella are with me because I smell Skin Bracer strong (when no cars are around) and sausage patties frying up (when I'm in an open field).
I don't smell myself much, anymore, now that I've started washing my running clothes after each run.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Ahhh... Rest Days
Mondays are rest days on my new training group's marathon training schedule. I don't normally rest on Mondays.
This marathon training stuff is great!
This marathon training stuff is great!
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Cross-Training: Yow!
Today was our first scheduled cross-training day. 30 minutes of some other exercise besides running. Work different muscles. Improve your fitness and stamina.
I always like how my legs feel after biking, so I pulled down the old mountain bike off the hooks in the garage, aired up the tires, and headed out.
I only went about a block before I had to turn around and come home -- bicycle seat torture. The bike seat was a smidgen more comfortable with a bath towel wedged into the back of my shorts (I have no bum, really). Every bump in the road a small penance for all my sins of the week.
I feel pretty great after my first cross-training experience, and look forward my next session.
I may have convinced the love of my life to go with me next Sunday. Marathoning may actually be good for the marriage, you see.
I always like how my legs feel after biking, so I pulled down the old mountain bike off the hooks in the garage, aired up the tires, and headed out.
I only went about a block before I had to turn around and come home -- bicycle seat torture. The bike seat was a smidgen more comfortable with a bath towel wedged into the back of my shorts (I have no bum, really). Every bump in the road a small penance for all my sins of the week.
I feel pretty great after my first cross-training experience, and look forward my next session.
I may have convinced the love of my life to go with me next Sunday. Marathoning may actually be good for the marriage, you see.
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