I’ve been resting so much I now have blisters on my arse. I can’t wait to run! I’m chomping at the bit, a bat released from hell, a spider on the fly, a Romanian race horse at the gate, a Siberian, an Alaskan, perhaps a Malamute harnessed to a stationary sled, Gee! Haw! I can’t wait to run! I’ll probably take-off at sub 5 minute miles; Prefontane will be smiling at me from the grave. I'll run so fast I might meet him there. Who knows, I’m liable to break a world record. I’m gonna....Jake! Jake! Calm Down! Slap! Calm Down! Slap! You’ve got the Almighty Catalina in two weeks! Slap!..... Many moments later..... Okay, okay, after the attitude adjustment and careful reconsideration, I’ve decided that the world record is safe, this time.
Instead, I plan on tying a ball and chain to my leg to slow me down. If you see me out there, dragging a ball and chain, but still running like the wind, please do your utmost to Mary Decker trip me. At all costs I must run slowly to avoid spending all my energy, Catalina affords no mercy.
Ahhhh.....on second thought, forget all that running stuff, I think I’ll just kick my feet up, smoke a cigar, drink some coffee, and a little later go take a nap and dream of fantastic feats, it's easier. I'll look for yall on the tellie.
Good luck all.
May the WIND always be at your back,
Jake
Thursday, March 27, 2008
L.A. Marathon Run Report
Dateline: LA Marathon --
Strategy: Conserve energy at LA for Catalina --
Results: At the last moment I elected to replace my ball-and-chain with a beast-of-burden. And heavens to murgatroit was he ever true to his calling. I harnessed the beast and we were off plodding along but only a little quicker then a full reverse. Ohhhh the agony of defeat, I didn’t even break a sweat all day, I ran so slow I could have walked the marathon faster. I pleaded, cajoled and bribed but the beast stayed true to being my burden. Mysteriously, he was unable or unwilling to see the beauty in my desire to gallup. I was left with no alternative but to trot into a convenience store and trot out with a paper bag over my head, incognito. I would have traded all the kings’ men for a better strategy than the one I had concocted. Baw-Humbug…Catalina is another day, I live for the moment and I had a million of them on my hands (and at my feet). I could have painted a Picasso on the way. The next time I come up with a hair-brained strategy like this one, I will take some yarn and needles so I have a nice sweater for grandma at the finish line.
My consolation and moment of glory came at mile 20, my beast-of-burden stopped at the water trough and turned towards the fiddler (bass player) at the circled wagons (stage). This was tantamount to the jailer forgetting the key in the door, it was my supreme opportunity, I dropped the reins and made my break. Free at last! Free at last! I thanked the cosmos I was free at last. Finally, I felt the wind on my face. My strategy was no longer my burden, or the beast.
Conclusion: I had a grand time and my hope is that 30,000 runners, especially you, can say the same. I enjoyed the coaching, beaches, trails, and most of all your company. I trust that we will meet again, if not, I wish you all the best of health, wealth, and happiness.
Out beyond good and bad is a trail, we will meet, rejoice, and run together there.
May your shoes always stay tied,
Strategy: Conserve energy at LA for Catalina --
Results: At the last moment I elected to replace my ball-and-chain with a beast-of-burden. And heavens to murgatroit was he ever true to his calling. I harnessed the beast and we were off plodding along but only a little quicker then a full reverse. Ohhhh the agony of defeat, I didn’t even break a sweat all day, I ran so slow I could have walked the marathon faster. I pleaded, cajoled and bribed but the beast stayed true to being my burden. Mysteriously, he was unable or unwilling to see the beauty in my desire to gallup. I was left with no alternative but to trot into a convenience store and trot out with a paper bag over my head, incognito. I would have traded all the kings’ men for a better strategy than the one I had concocted. Baw-Humbug…Catalina is another day, I live for the moment and I had a million of them on my hands (and at my feet). I could have painted a Picasso on the way. The next time I come up with a hair-brained strategy like this one, I will take some yarn and needles so I have a nice sweater for grandma at the finish line.
My consolation and moment of glory came at mile 20, my beast-of-burden stopped at the water trough and turned towards the fiddler (bass player) at the circled wagons (stage). This was tantamount to the jailer forgetting the key in the door, it was my supreme opportunity, I dropped the reins and made my break. Free at last! Free at last! I thanked the cosmos I was free at last. Finally, I felt the wind on my face. My strategy was no longer my burden, or the beast.
Conclusion: I had a grand time and my hope is that 30,000 runners, especially you, can say the same. I enjoyed the coaching, beaches, trails, and most of all your company. I trust that we will meet again, if not, I wish you all the best of health, wealth, and happiness.
Out beyond good and bad is a trail, we will meet, rejoice, and run together there.
May your shoes always stay tied,
Tin Man 2 Iron Man
As I gazed across the Pacific Ocean yesterday I caught a glimpse of Kailua-Kona, Hawaii. The image and the off-shore breeze provided me with the final surge of inspiration that I needed. Yesterday was truly special; I settled the hardest part of accomplishing a goal. I finalized it in my mind, made the commitment, established an internal quasi-contractual agreement, until death do we part, in sickness and in health – the objective shall be met. So let it be written - So let it be done ! (What the hell is this guy babbling about now?)
It’s time to expand my horizon. The man-of-tin (foil) shall become the man-of-steel (iron), an ironman. I shall swim the rough water of Kailua (2.4 miles), bicycle along the Kona Coast (112 miles), and run a marathon through Kailua-Kona.
I’m starting off slow. Today, I signed-up for swim lessons to develop and practice good habits. Come join me at the Belmont Shore swimming pool (adjacent to the Belmont Shore pier and across from Yankee Doodles Sports Bar) every Monday and Wednesday from 6:00 pm to 7:00 pm. The class will begin March 17 for five weeks, costs $50 skins and is limited to 10 adults. As of today a total of 6 people have signed up. After this course I will evaluate my effeciency in the water and determine whether more lessons are necessary.
Ironman Statistics:
Throughout 2007, more than 60,000 competitors strived to qualify for one of 1,800 spots at the event. More than 4,300 people entered the lottery program, where 150 slots were given to U.S. athletes and 50 to international athletes. The course records go to Luc Van Lierde, 8:04:08 in 1996 and Paula Newby-Fraser, 8:55:28 in 1992
The average Ironman triathlete spends 18 to 24 hours each week training for this event. A typical week includes seven miles of swimming, 225 miles of biking and 48 miles of running. Many competitors also cross-train with weight training, stretching and yoga.
The average temperatures on race day are from 82 to 95 degrees, with the humidity hovering around 90 percent. Crosswinds on portions of the bike course can gust as high as 60 mph.
In 2010 the race will be conducted on October 9.
Have a Go(o)d and Buddhaful Day,
It’s time to expand my horizon. The man-of-tin (foil) shall become the man-of-steel (iron), an ironman. I shall swim the rough water of Kailua (2.4 miles), bicycle along the Kona Coast (112 miles), and run a marathon through Kailua-Kona.
I’m starting off slow. Today, I signed-up for swim lessons to develop and practice good habits. Come join me at the Belmont Shore swimming pool (adjacent to the Belmont Shore pier and across from Yankee Doodles Sports Bar) every Monday and Wednesday from 6:00 pm to 7:00 pm. The class will begin March 17 for five weeks, costs $50 skins and is limited to 10 adults. As of today a total of 6 people have signed up. After this course I will evaluate my effeciency in the water and determine whether more lessons are necessary.
Ironman Statistics:
Throughout 2007, more than 60,000 competitors strived to qualify for one of 1,800 spots at the event. More than 4,300 people entered the lottery program, where 150 slots were given to U.S. athletes and 50 to international athletes. The course records go to Luc Van Lierde, 8:04:08 in 1996 and Paula Newby-Fraser, 8:55:28 in 1992
The average Ironman triathlete spends 18 to 24 hours each week training for this event. A typical week includes seven miles of swimming, 225 miles of biking and 48 miles of running. Many competitors also cross-train with weight training, stretching and yoga.
The average temperatures on race day are from 82 to 95 degrees, with the humidity hovering around 90 percent. Crosswinds on portions of the bike course can gust as high as 60 mph.
In 2010 the race will be conducted on October 9.
Have a Go(o)d and Buddhaful Day,
Catalina Marathon
It was a run unlike any other. The island was humming with nostalgia, the elements purred in concert, the wind teased the grasslands, and in turn they playfully parried and danced a jig. The sky was clear, baby-blue and a sharp contrast to the greens and bountiful deep blue. Ole deep-blue was littered with white-caps, they dashed and bounced about and displayed unlimited potential all day.
I ran the first 10 miles with Steve and Kristi. Steve was in style, of course, he also gave us great coaching all the way, very effective. Kristi was a joy; she had a perpetual smile on her face and in her eyes, very inspiring. I felt better at the end of 10 then I did at the start. It was time for gdasshoppaw to venture out and tackle the mountain or at least kick it in the chins and chi-run away.
I was off and racing. I passed the orangutan (a hairy guy from N.J. dressed in orange & black) five or six times, we battled for eight miles. The last time I passed him I said, “Orangatang (yes, I called him that) the only way you’ll pass me again is if death comes and sweeps me from my feet!” The orangatang replied, “Oh ya, the next time I pass you, I’m gonna spank you and take your lunch money too!” Suffice to say, I was not greeted by death that day.
As I pranced up and down the hills I came across pumpkin (a woman from San Francisco dressed in orange and black). We ran together for an hour and I shared half a dozen fables. Finally, I told her, “Pumpkin (yes, I called her that) at 21 my plan is to kick sand in your face and if necessary crunch some knuckles, anything to climb my way to the front. I was careful to explain that I have no friends on the race course, only foes. At 21 miles I attempted both but she was too wiry and nimble, I couldn’t.
At 17 or 18 we stumbled across Beach Runner Jason. We ran together in perfect harmony. At mile 22 we had us a runners spread fit for a king, at the buffet, we shared and passed back and forth everything but Alaskan king crab legs. We were preparing for the final haul. In my minds eye I was secretly scheming how to beat this guy and shake the pumpkin. Sure, I played the undercover false friend, but what I had in store for these two pigeons was complete and utter defeat.
At mile 23 we all kicked in the turbo overdrive. Ohh it was beautiful! I was moving soooo fast that the scenery became blurry, my eyes began watering, my face was contorted and pulled back, alas, the G-forces were taking effect. I was afraid of breaking the sound barrier and being disqualified so I pulled back a few degrees, Ohh it was beautiful! I dove across the finish line yelling at the top of my lungs “FREEEEDOOOOMMMM!” (Breaveheart) Simultaneously, the wind sang a sonnet, the grass danced a poem and the sea vibrated in rhythm. Ohh it was beautiful!
***********************************************************************************
I most enjoyed the island, the people, the elements, and running with Steve, Kristi, Jason, Pumpkin and even the Orangatang. Sure, we concluded our differences on the trail, where they should be settled, in a duel, and my weapon of choice was my running shoes. Yes, my running shoes performed that day, like no other. I may have them bronzed and set next to Wayne Gretzky's bronze statue at the Staples Center, or something like that.
I ran the first 10 miles with Steve and Kristi. Steve was in style, of course, he also gave us great coaching all the way, very effective. Kristi was a joy; she had a perpetual smile on her face and in her eyes, very inspiring. I felt better at the end of 10 then I did at the start. It was time for gdasshoppaw to venture out and tackle the mountain or at least kick it in the chins and chi-run away.
I was off and racing. I passed the orangutan (a hairy guy from N.J. dressed in orange & black) five or six times, we battled for eight miles. The last time I passed him I said, “Orangatang (yes, I called him that) the only way you’ll pass me again is if death comes and sweeps me from my feet!” The orangatang replied, “Oh ya, the next time I pass you, I’m gonna spank you and take your lunch money too!” Suffice to say, I was not greeted by death that day.
As I pranced up and down the hills I came across pumpkin (a woman from San Francisco dressed in orange and black). We ran together for an hour and I shared half a dozen fables. Finally, I told her, “Pumpkin (yes, I called her that) at 21 my plan is to kick sand in your face and if necessary crunch some knuckles, anything to climb my way to the front. I was careful to explain that I have no friends on the race course, only foes. At 21 miles I attempted both but she was too wiry and nimble, I couldn’t.
At 17 or 18 we stumbled across Beach Runner Jason. We ran together in perfect harmony. At mile 22 we had us a runners spread fit for a king, at the buffet, we shared and passed back and forth everything but Alaskan king crab legs. We were preparing for the final haul. In my minds eye I was secretly scheming how to beat this guy and shake the pumpkin. Sure, I played the undercover false friend, but what I had in store for these two pigeons was complete and utter defeat.
At mile 23 we all kicked in the turbo overdrive. Ohh it was beautiful! I was moving soooo fast that the scenery became blurry, my eyes began watering, my face was contorted and pulled back, alas, the G-forces were taking effect. I was afraid of breaking the sound barrier and being disqualified so I pulled back a few degrees, Ohh it was beautiful! I dove across the finish line yelling at the top of my lungs “FREEEEDOOOOMMMM!” (Breaveheart) Simultaneously, the wind sang a sonnet, the grass danced a poem and the sea vibrated in rhythm. Ohh it was beautiful!
***********************************************************************************
I most enjoyed the island, the people, the elements, and running with Steve, Kristi, Jason, Pumpkin and even the Orangatang. Sure, we concluded our differences on the trail, where they should be settled, in a duel, and my weapon of choice was my running shoes. Yes, my running shoes performed that day, like no other. I may have them bronzed and set next to Wayne Gretzky's bronze statue at the Staples Center, or something like that.
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