I have a lot to write about and yet I have nothing to write about. That almost sounds poetic. It almost sounds like something else. "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." I am now the Charles Dickens of running blogs. Except, without the talent. I recently was visited by three ghosts and they all pretty much told me to go ahead and die. I was like, "where is my trip back in time? Where is Fezziwig? Where is my big ass turkey." The quiet ghost with the huge blade just shrugged and pointed at Dunkin Donuts. I still don't know what that meant, but I went inside and chased the donut girl around and kept shouting, "I'm as light as a feather. I'm as merry as a schoolboy. Hey, is that pumpkin spice coffee?" Then, I got banned for life from most of the stores in the tri-state area. Not really the stuff of Christmas redemption, but I have come to the conclusion that my life is not going to be the feel good movie of the year. My life is more like that very special episode of Blossom where she reaches puberty and Joey Lawrence says, "Whoa." Then he tries to kiss Blossom and she says, "whoa", because she just wasn't ready for them to be anything but friends. I've never seen Blossom but I am pretty sure this happened in season two. If not, it should have. Maybe, if I get visited by the ghost of Christmas past, I can write that episode. You know, while I'm back in that time. I think Joey and I could be friends as well. Who knows? Life is funny.
I ran in the Philly Rock n' Roll half last weekend. I wasn't expecting much. Training has been going very well but I haven't really raced for awhile, so I had no clue what kind of speed I had. I was sure that my endurance was decent because of the long runs I have been doing. My running friends have been so supportive and have made sure that I have done all my long runs. I have to say that I am enjoying the long runs as much as I possibly can. But, I was ready to try to cut loose a bit. And I guess I did. I beat my previous pr by over a minute. My legs were tired. Not only because it was a race, but also because it was mostly a training run to get ready for the marathon, so there was no tapering. Just cranking right up to the event. So, my legs felt a bit tired, but my breathing was right on. This may sound stupid, but if my legs would have cooperated, I felt I could have gone faster. But, the legs said just keep plugging, don't be stupid. It was a really great day. All my friends pr'ed and/or had fantastic races and everyone was incredibly happy and pumped. And Philadelphia was sunny and vibrant and the music was good. It was just a great day. I started the day asking myself why the hell I was in my car at 4:30 A.M. and driving an hour and a half to run 13.1 miles. Why I thought that sounded like fun. Just like last year, as soon as I got a little bit down the road, I knew the answer. It was dark and comfortable, there was no traffic, the music on the radio was great, I was going to see friends and thousands of people ready to run and this is the kind of thing I train for. To push myself and get out of my comfort zone. Actually, I don't even know what my comfort zone is, because I'm never that comfortable. Maybe the couch. The couch is my comfort zone. Except when the dog is sleeping on my head. That is cute, but not too comfortable. So, I guess there is no comfort zone for me.
Anyway, it was a good race. I feel somewhat ready for the marathon in a month. As long as my body stays in one piece, I think I will be fine. I have set a reasonable goal to finish. I want more, but I will be somewhat satisfied if I get this time. Just so I don't sound all mellow and philosophical and crap, if I don't get the time I want, I am going to want to jump off something. I have trained for this time. I've done everything I can possibly do to achieve this time.
Tomorrow, we are going to West Point to see a football game. With my dad. Due to his Alzheimer's, this may be the last time he will realize we are together doing something he loves. He graduated from West Point and spent a career in the Army. We have been going to games there since I was a little kid. He loves football. Loves it. His father is a West Point grad as well and he and my grandmother are buried there. I know my dad wants us to visit their graves again. He wants to visit their graves and show us things we have seen many times. He won't remember he has shown us these things. He may not remember that we were ever there. I haven't gone for years because I have been too busy. I have work I could be doing tomorrow and 20 some miles to run. Work will always be there, the miles are waiting for me on Sunday. I won't be able to get this time back with my dad.
It is time to conclude this due to the fact that I am thirsty and there is some kid outside yelling at me to pay for a goose.
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