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.

Bridging the Years

Where in Tulsa, OK can you run a 1/2 marathon outside in the shade with a breeze in July?

And, there's no concrete, asphalt, roots or rocks.

It's the "Bridging the Years" run that Ken Saveth and I did today @ 4:30 PM.

We celebrated our 52nd birthdays by making 52 crossings of the Pedestrian Bridge.

At 1400 feet across, 52 crossings is 13.78 miles!

Sounds all good--right?

But not on a 107° day!!
I love this bridge. It is one of Tulsa's treasures and I'm sure a lot of runners and cyclists agree with me. This bridge also doubles as a locale for a romantic walk in the evening. You can not go wrong taking pictures here!

The old railroad bridge converted to a foot bridge is right above the Zink Dam, a low water dam that currently is in need of repair, as the main gate is stuck open. (The two above pix are a few months old when the gates were not broke.)

Ken aka K2 and I have our water cache stationed at the east end, and are about to embark on a 2 1/2 to 3 hour run. I had 26 pennies in my pocket and left one on the table after every out-and-back. When I ran out of pennies, I was done. K2 also brought a board and grease pencil so we could keep count, and of couse we had our Garmins.

.265 miles out to the far west side, we slapped the rail and turned back. We would do this over and over until we crossed the river 52 times.

The super cool thing was we had a LOT of friends come out to run with us. Stormy ran all but the first two out-and-backs with me, and Andy (pictured above--the fast looking one) ran 9-10 miles as well. Edward ran a bit with me, and a while with K2 and a few laps with Pat, who was running 45 crossings as he is a wee bit younger than us old guys. I think that's Derek tucked in behind Andy. Drafting.

Sandra ran a bit with Pat, and ended up with 6-8 miles, I think. Darryl took an early start because he had to get through in time for work and I don't know how far he ran, but he was doing three crossings to our two. Of course he'll win his age group in most races. A lot of the RW group came by to cheer us on or run a bit with us. Thursday night is their regular training night, and most of them run right by this bridge. Bobby, Guy, Kelly, and Wilma ran an out-and-back before finishing their normal run. Aaron ran a couple trips with Stormy and I before heading back up the west side towards Turkey Mountain. Debra and Chrystal ran maybe 5-6 miles out there. (This is a great run on a hot day!)

I ran nearly all of the time, walking just a few steps before the very end of the bridge and a few steps back out while I guzzled water and Gatorade. I took two SaltStick caps and a big pinch of salt after 9 miles and really had no cramping or fatigue. I finished my 52 crossing--13.78 miles-- in 2:30. My buddy Tom brought a six-pack of Blue Moon all iced down, and that made for the most excellent rehydration after my run. I ran the last few out-and-backs with K2, and upon our finish, we met the RW gang at Jason's Deli. Stormy had brought a cake for us birthday boys.He swore it was hamburger flavored, but it was chocolate--and insanely good. After a good running buzz followed by a sugar buzz, I was happy. Very happy. This was a good idea.

A Few TOT Pix

I think I can do this--from left to right: Trey, Brenda, Molly, Christopher, Melinda, Rachel Vibram Girl, Mimi, Superstar Edward, Bodi the amazing Corgi, and Cat.


Nearing the end of a Sunday morning run--walking the plank.


Tuesday groups have been HUGE. The group I led had almost 30 runners. I need another person who can lead a group so we can (if we need to) split into 2 groups so we don't get too spread out. It's been super hot and I don't want anyone to get separated and lost.



A nice descent into No-Name Holler.