Everything seems like an amazing idea when it’s just that … an idea. In its infancy. Still formulating. Percolating in the recesses of your mind. Where you roll it around a bit, think it over and finally scream, “Daggone, this is genius!” Sometimes it IS genius. Look at da Vinci, Einstein, the guy who came up with “Rocky and Bullwinkle.” They shook that bag of rocks atop their head and out popped ideas that changed the world. But here’s the rub: How do the rest of us schnooks recognize the difference between “genius” and cockamamie ideas dreamt up in a bout of deliriousness, or a mild-overdose of cough medicine? You know, ideas we THINK are genius — Einstein-squared kind of stuff — but are more like Bullwinkle droppings.
And the graceful, gliding hurdler went BAMMMM!!!
Graceful. Gliding. Effortless. Precise. Powerful. Poetic. Beautiful. See, these were words going through my head. I was watching the Olympics. Hurdlers, actually. A special breed, the hurdler. They are like no other. Don’t categorize them with track and field athletes. No, they belong in a special grouping of adventure-seeking sportsmen. Like hunters who wrestle bears. Motorcyclists who jump through rings of burning gas. Snowboarders who race avalanches down mountainsides. You know, idiots. But in a good, thrill-seeking, “hey-look-my-pants-are-on-fire” kind of way.
Tips on surviving a 15K race … whatever that is
Just a week or so ago I shared tips on training for a race. A race that was coming up. Only, now it’s in the past. The Jacksonville River Run. A 15K. I have no idea what a K is, but the race was 9.3 miles long. It had a big, hulking bridge on the ninth mile. Gusty winds blew over the top, threatening to throw skinny little runners like me off the side. Yet, somehow I dropped 46 seconds off last year. I finished 273rd (or 237th if you’re dyslexic like me.) That’s out of more than 16,000 runners. Not bad for a skinny boy who almost went over the bridge.I feel pretty good about it. Especially considering a couple years back I suffered a surfing injury that almost ended my running career. I’m not elite or super fast, but pretty proud of where I am. So I’m back to offer some new running advice. It’s my philosophy of running, along with how I survive a race with lots of Ks in it:
Focus. Run. Keep training … must … resist … beer!
Must stay focused. Must keep running. Must stay on schedule. Keep the pace up. Not slack. Not … give … in … to … the … tempta … Oh, the heck with it. I want a beer and some pretzels. So goes my on-again, off-again training regimen for the upcoming 15K River Run in Jacksonville. Mostly it’s on-again. I’m on an overly ambitious quest to get back down to the times I was running in college. At 39, that’s no easy feat. Even more remarkably, I might just be on track. “Might” is the key word, and only if I STAY on track.
No tigers here. We just love to run
There really is only one reason to run: A poorly fed tiger is in pursuit of your hindquarters. That right there is a damn good reason. Also, maybe a flood. Or if you’re on fire (although it’s actually better to stop, drop and roll, unless, of course, the tiger is behind you. In which case, just keep running!) But truth be told, I can think of very few reasons — logical, good, rational reasons — to go out and pound the pavement. To wear those short running shorts. To get blisters. To hear endless people shout out their car windows, “Run, Forrest, Run!” To put one foot in front of the other for hundreds, if not thousands, of steps so you can get from point A to point B. And I say all of this as a runner myself. As someone who loves — yes, loves — to run. But someone who also can’t quite figure out why in the world he does it.