A late post about Friday Night (Happy belated Birthday, Susan!!)

I am really getting behind in my blogging. Last post was a pictureless post, and was quickly whipped out and I pulled a muscle in my arm patting myself on the back. Last Friday, I joined some friends as we attempted 36 miles on the Creek Turnpike Trail.It was Susan's birthday run, and she was turning 36. The plan was an 8:00 pm start, running past Mingo and taking the Liberty Trail to 71st, hitting Braums, and then returning to the Creek/Liberty Trail to NSU and back. We had stashed a few coolers with ice, water, and Gatorade, and 7 brave kindred spirits took out into the night.The Creek Trail has a fair amount of hills--none that will kill you, but enough to be called "hill training". We ran, walked when we had to, and enjoyed each other's company all the way.The spur on the Mingo Trail was new ground for most of us. The trail meanders through SouthCrest and TCC before hitting a mile long new section along 169. This trail is a nice run but probably a better ride. After rehydrating at Braums (mostly ice and water--I wanted a shake but thought better of it) we headed back. Right after crossing 71st St, a carload of drunken adolescents yelled at us threatening to kick our asses. Kathy yelled back, and they sped off. Funny stuff--ya had to be there.Under the tall bridges of 169, a wealth of surrealistic picture opportunities await me--on a trip during a rising or setting sun.

As warm and humid as it was at the start, we were cold and shivering through Broken Arrow. 40-50 mph winds made the light rain sting our faces. Roman, Kathy, Caroline, and Dennis had turned back and were in the warmth of their cars when the rain hit. Roman and Kathy met us in BA and they picked up Mitch and Caroline. Caroline then crewed Susan and I, and those runners more sane visited IHOP. I ditched my camera with Mitch since it is not waterproof, so that was the end of the pix.

Susan had ran only about 30 miles in the past year!! Doing 36 seemed unlikely, but she was feeling good and we kept running a 11:ish pace and walked only the steeper hills. Our overall pace never really dropped off much. Take away our stops at the aid stops, and we'da had a 11:00 average. Caroline waited for us up the trail every 3 miles or so, and the miles clicked away. We rolled into the QT parking lot some 8:45 later, and had to add about .2 miles to make an even 36.
Birthday girl was all smiles. I bet she has an ultra in her near future. (Pumpkin Holler maybe??)

progress report

In the last 11 days, I have been on a tear. I've biked or ran (some days both) every day, and have had 127.3 biking miles and 105.5 running miles. My training for my fall races is doing ok--by the numbers anyway. I think I have solved my blister issues, thanks to Eric Steele and his foot concoction. The potential chafing probs are always kept at bay with Dana's SacSoSoft. Swallowing enough SaltSticks and organic sea salt keeps my tummy happy and keeps cramps away. I plan on using Do-Wacka-Do as my last long run in preparation for FLATROCK, where I hope to come away with my KNIGHTHOOD, a permanent cloth bib and lifetime entry to more of the ROCK, and enough umption to do well at Arkansas Traveller the next week. I want a sub 8:00 at Do-Wacka, 7:52 or faster at FlatRock, and a sub 24 at AT100. (I can dream, can't I?)

I still have not made hill work a part of my weekly routine, and I could still work some of that in. The other numbers (the lbs) have only slightly declined. I am down about 8, and would like another 15 to GO AWAY!!!!

46 miles on the bike on a Wednesday evening

My mileage has more than doubled the past few weeks--and my running has gotten somewhat better too. But the increase is due to about half of the mileage has been on the bike. Wednesday, I rode with a group or RW runners turned bikers, and Pat and I made it a long ride.We rode with our friends south towards Jenks. Pat and I had talked about riding to NSU, which was about 22 miles from where we took off. (I had actually rode from the house so I already had 5 miles in the saddle.

One of the "wonders" of Tulsa--the River Spirit Casino. This is maybe the fastest ways in the world to make $100 disappear. We kept peddling. Most of the gang turned north at Jenks and headed back towards their cars instead of venturing eastward. Sue rode with Pat and I towards Broken Arrow via the Creek Turnpike Trail.

This is not the most scenic trail in the world. It has a fair share of hills--nothing real steep or long, but enough to knock the dust off some of those seldom used sprockets.

Just before we crossed into Broken Arrow into a wetland area, Sue peeled off and headed back to her car. Pat and I picked up the pace and were determined to make the round trip to NSU. A hefty thunderstorm was building just to the southwest and the thunderbolts were in fine form. I was sure we were gonna get drenched!!

OK, this is a swiped pic. But this is what was over our shoulder maybe 15 miles away. It was moving our way, but Pat maintained that it would miss us.

We made it to NSU--101st Street east of Broken Arrow. This route is used in a lot of our all night runs, but we start in Jenks and make a 30 miler out of it. I have never seen this trail in the daytime. It is actually pretty nice on a bike. This was gonna end up being Pat's longest ride ever, and my longest in a few years. We headed back into the storm, but we just hit the edge of it. No close lightning, and only some light rain. We made it back after dark, and I still had a mile long hill across the river and up to Elwood. I finished tired and hungry. And satisfied with the ride.

Pat just about has me talked into going to Wichita Falls, TX in two weeks to ride the Hotter N Hell 100. I think I can do this.


I found this video on YouTube. I hope we can avoid the bike crashes and flat tires.

ponderings

What was once High Tech is now the norm—common-place, unimpressive, hardly worth noticing? When I was 14 years old, I got my very own phone in my room. That seemed so unbelievably liberating, and to add to the wonderment of it all, it was a TrimLine phone. How “space-age”!!! This was back when you bought your phone from the phone company, and if memory serves me correctly, the type of phone you got had an effect on your monthly bill. It was less money to have a dial phone instead of one of the ultra-modern push button ones (was “ultra” a word then?) Still, I had bragging rights among my friends—for a short while.

I remember one night while making prank calls, I got a recorded sound of a screeching whistling and whirring followed by some static and beeps. That sound is readily recognized today as the sound of a fax machine, and I am assuming there were fax machines in 1974. I had my friends call that number over and over to listen—was this sounds from outer space?? WOW!!! I wonder WHY a fax makes that sort of sound. Is it a trademarked soundtrack indicating that the fax is connecting, and if so, why was that particular sequence of noises selected? Would the fax work if the sound was that of a duck quacking, an OOOGAH OOOGAH horn, or a voice saying “your message is being transmitted”? Or are those actually the sounds that a facsimile machine naturally makes? And would a person 200 years ago be bewildered hearing those sounds? No doubt, one with a tape recorder playing sounds from the 20th or 21st century to 19th centurions would be declared a witch and burned at the stake.

My super cool pager I had in the early 80s, is a goofy dinosaur today. (Actually, it might be a collector's item.) The latest greatest Motorola flip phone in 1998 was an worthless antique a few years later when the RAZOR phones came out, and now I am waiting for the iPhones to take a backseat to a newer cooler model. The same is true with cars. My 2007 model car does not change in the way it looks but my perception of it changes with the arrivals of the cars from each new model year. But 200 years ago, an older horse was as good as the newer models. They often got better with age, until they got too old. But a horse from 1820 really looked no different than a horse from 1890.

Sometimes I think I was born at the wrong time. I would have made a good 19th century farmer, with only the cares of my crops growing well, and milking the cows. I suppose I would still be murmured about—the guy who should be doing his chores but instead goes RUNNING across the fields and through the woods like he was chasing something. Being proud of blisters and black toenails—might need to keep that on the down-low as well. But the one thing that might be a problem for me living in 1820 would be not being able to have email. Waiting on the pony express mail for my hours of reading about what my friends were eating for lunch night not cut it for me.

Tuesday TOT Trek

Rock City was teaming with trail runners tonight. 60-some-odd fun seekers bombarded the parking lot on Elwwod and migrated into groups based on the pace of their choice and headed out to leap over roots and rocks. Two of the three groups ended up in downtown Rock City just north of the Snake.The group above is one of the faster groups--the fastest I believe. Jeff leads this group and while they probably enjoy romping at sub-nine pace, they surely don't have as much fun as the group below.
Not a single face without a gleeful smile here--well, except maybe Alan who no doubt was thinking this would be a good place to hide a geocache. My group--the Supermediates--ran about 3.3 miles in around 52 minutes with a few rest stops to hydrate. We finished with a screaming run down Lipbuster to a cold jug of Gaterade and an ice chest of TATURade. It was happy trailz indeed.

finding the world

Sometimes work takes me to wide open spaces. I see endless roads, blue skies and playful clouds that stretch on forever. But me in my work clothes, my running shoes miles away on the bedroom floor....at least I have my camera.Making mental notes of this road for a long run or a bike ride someday. This hill should get the blood pumping.
An open gate--seems inviting, A beckon to a slower paced life, the worries of the city 40 miles away.

This morning with faint clouds smeared across the sky, it was a mere 90° at 11:00 instead of 103° like it was at this time yesterday. Still, this cluster of cattle jockeyed for position under this shade tree.
The story of this old structure was left untold this day. I thought about how proud the builders were of this small rock house when it was finished. Maybe it was a well house. or an extension of a larger structure that is now gone....
Miles of rolling hills, horizons, and roads undiscovered (by me at least.)
The community of Tiawah. Several compact but steep hills surround the town. But no time today to explore.
Finally, I discovered the world. It's been right here all along.

outdoor cooking

A long string of super hot days brings out the best in people, and the worst as well. Cliches abound. "Been hot enough for ya?" "It's so hot...."Well, I decided to put the old "fry an egg on the sidewalk" thing to the test. Problem is, there ain't no sidewalks at my house, and the driveway is in the shade. So, I picked me out a nice piece of asphalt to be my cooktop. I got out our cast-iron skillet (since I intended to eat them eggs and sidn't want a bunch of road garbage in them.) A bit of bacon seemed like a good idea too, and I know I know--it's precooked.
I had preheated the skillet about 30 minutes, and seriously, it was hot to the touch. It was 113° and I expected to hear a sizzle when I cracked the eggs. No sizzle, but the eggs did immediately turn white.And then, wouldn't you know it, a big cloud covered the sun. So, I installed my new rain gauge and prayed for a bit of rain.
It was a bit of a wait, but a nice cold beer made the time pass quicker. In fact, after a couple, I almost forgot to flip the eggs. Never was a sunny-side-up guy.
The going was slow, but I think I still had my breakfast fixed faster than the last time I was at Denny's.
Not the best ever, but I had to eat it.
Maybe I'll bake cookies on the dash of my car tomorrow.