So tomorrow I will race my first half marathon.
13.1 miles from Topeka to Auburn, KS. Starts at 11AM. Temp is supposed to be around 28 with an ESE wind at 10 or so. Cold. The course is very hilly with some on gravel country roads.
Goal is to break 1:44 or around 8 minutes a mile.
I will be happy with under 2 hours and ecstatic with under 1:44. I have put the miles in and should be ready.
The plan is to start out about 100 people back from the front of the pack, start slow and keep the pace around 8 minutes a mile. According to the McMillan pacing calculator, I should be able to run around 7:50 miles. That may be pushing it a bit.
More tomorrow after the race...
Friday, January 20, 2012
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Doomed
It was supposed to be a normal early season tournament game.
As normal as an Under 19 Boys game usually is with all the testosterone flowing and the competitiveness.
The game was played on a really crummy field, one of the worst in the area. The goal areas were swamps as was the center of the field. The field slopes from northwest to southeast in an awkward way and there was the usual 20 mph wind blowing steadily from the South down hill. And the two teams were from the eastern side of Missouri and had played each other several times before over the years.
I should have known this was going to be a rough one when the captains came out for the coin toss. The two white team captains were jerks. They didn't really say anything specific, but their body attitude was one of "we don't respect you and we won't." I haven't really had that before.
By the way, one team wore white and the other wore red.
Game got underway and it was obvious from the start that it was going to be a rough one to keep under control. Both teams were physical and aggressive. Red scored on white about midway through the first half.
A red player fell to the ground in the box and kicked the ball to another player who scored. There was no problem with the play. No white players were around him. It is perfectly legal to play the ball on the ground as long as there is no danger to another player.
So according to the white team, I had somehow scored on them. And downhill it went.
Before the game was over I had cautioned the head coach of the white team, dismissed the assistant coach for calling me something that I can't repeat here, cautioned both white captains for dissent, cautioned two other white players for reckless play and cautioned two of the red players for reckless play.
First coach I have tossed in over five years.
According to the white team, I had somehow scored three goals against them and they had lost 3 to 2 because of me.
Normally after a game, good or bad, I reflect on how I did and what I can change to improve. I really like the verse in Romans 12:3 "For by the grace given me I say to everyone of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you." I try to apply sober judgment to my refereeing.
I run across a lot of referees that seem to think they are perfect. I don't like working with those guys. I realize that I make mistakes in every game. Could be as simple as missing the direction on a throw in. My next perfect game will be my first one. And I have been looking for a perfect game for over 1072 games.
As I reflected on this game, I came to the realization that about the only thing I could have done differently was to card both white captains at the coin toss for dissent.
This game was doomed from the start...
As normal as an Under 19 Boys game usually is with all the testosterone flowing and the competitiveness.
The game was played on a really crummy field, one of the worst in the area. The goal areas were swamps as was the center of the field. The field slopes from northwest to southeast in an awkward way and there was the usual 20 mph wind blowing steadily from the South down hill. And the two teams were from the eastern side of Missouri and had played each other several times before over the years.
I should have known this was going to be a rough one when the captains came out for the coin toss. The two white team captains were jerks. They didn't really say anything specific, but their body attitude was one of "we don't respect you and we won't." I haven't really had that before.
By the way, one team wore white and the other wore red.
Game got underway and it was obvious from the start that it was going to be a rough one to keep under control. Both teams were physical and aggressive. Red scored on white about midway through the first half.
A red player fell to the ground in the box and kicked the ball to another player who scored. There was no problem with the play. No white players were around him. It is perfectly legal to play the ball on the ground as long as there is no danger to another player.
So according to the white team, I had somehow scored on them. And downhill it went.
Before the game was over I had cautioned the head coach of the white team, dismissed the assistant coach for calling me something that I can't repeat here, cautioned both white captains for dissent, cautioned two other white players for reckless play and cautioned two of the red players for reckless play.
First coach I have tossed in over five years.
According to the white team, I had somehow scored three goals against them and they had lost 3 to 2 because of me.
Normally after a game, good or bad, I reflect on how I did and what I can change to improve. I really like the verse in Romans 12:3 "For by the grace given me I say to everyone of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you." I try to apply sober judgment to my refereeing.
I run across a lot of referees that seem to think they are perfect. I don't like working with those guys. I realize that I make mistakes in every game. Could be as simple as missing the direction on a throw in. My next perfect game will be my first one. And I have been looking for a perfect game for over 1072 games.
As I reflected on this game, I came to the realization that about the only thing I could have done differently was to card both white captains at the coin toss for dissent.
This game was doomed from the start...
Thursday, March 3, 2011
The Epic Run
After church on Sunday, I went out for a run.
It was almost an Epic Run but not quite. It was foggy and humid. Visibility was about a quarter of a mile. Some of the heaviest fog I've seen in a while.
Had a good, solid run in the fog. I did wear my bright lime green hi-visibility jersey. And it was just cool enough to wear the white gloves and a head band.
Visibility was just enough to take make the run a bit less than Epic. And usually an Epic Run is a bit longer than I went (3.42 miles) on Sunday.
I've had only a few Epic Runs in my life. If I had too many then they wouldn't qualify as Epic. Probably the first one was Grandma's Marathon in 1979 where I blew up and barely finished. My first and only marathon. So far... Most marathons will qualify for Epic Run status.
And then there was the time I went running with a coworker: Dick Beardsley. We worked at a running store together while I was in college. He was recovering from a bit of knee surgery (only way I could keep up with him) and wanted to go for a run. We left from the store in Dinkytown (Minneapolis) and ran down into Saint Paul. We did about 4 or 4 and a half miles. In -40 degree windchill. At night. On ice and snow. I don't remember the actual temp just the wind chill. Still the coldest I've ever run in. But that run instantly made Epic Run status. For me at least, not sure about Dick.
And back on July Fourth last year I went out for a run. It was drizzly and warm. Traffic was very light and no one, absolutely no one was out on the roads and trails. I had the route all to myself. And I flew. I ran the 6 and a half mile course faster than I ever had (at the time). And I took great pride in the fact that I had been out there when no one else was. My running log for the day starts with: Epic Run!
There have been other Epic Runs over the years. If I'm lucky there are one or two a year. Runs that just stand out by virtue of being over. A twenty miler in rain the whole way. Personal bests that come on days when I didn't want to run. Runs in extreme heat or against a north wind at 25 mph. Runs in fresh snow early in the morning on streets and trails unmarked by anything except the rabbits. A race with both of my kids when they were young.
There are two things every one of my Epic Runs have: I run. And I am smiling like a fool when they are over.
There isn't much else in common between the Epic Runs. Some are with other people, some are solo runs. They can come at any time in any season. They can almost never be planned.
An Epic Run is an unexpected valuable gift. They are to be treasured since they are so rare.
And I've found that I can put in a bunch of ordinary runs on a bunch of ordinary days waiting for the next one...
It was almost an Epic Run but not quite. It was foggy and humid. Visibility was about a quarter of a mile. Some of the heaviest fog I've seen in a while.
Had a good, solid run in the fog. I did wear my bright lime green hi-visibility jersey. And it was just cool enough to wear the white gloves and a head band.
Visibility was just enough to take make the run a bit less than Epic. And usually an Epic Run is a bit longer than I went (3.42 miles) on Sunday.
I've had only a few Epic Runs in my life. If I had too many then they wouldn't qualify as Epic. Probably the first one was Grandma's Marathon in 1979 where I blew up and barely finished. My first and only marathon. So far... Most marathons will qualify for Epic Run status.
And then there was the time I went running with a coworker: Dick Beardsley. We worked at a running store together while I was in college. He was recovering from a bit of knee surgery (only way I could keep up with him) and wanted to go for a run. We left from the store in Dinkytown (Minneapolis) and ran down into Saint Paul. We did about 4 or 4 and a half miles. In -40 degree windchill. At night. On ice and snow. I don't remember the actual temp just the wind chill. Still the coldest I've ever run in. But that run instantly made Epic Run status. For me at least, not sure about Dick.
And back on July Fourth last year I went out for a run. It was drizzly and warm. Traffic was very light and no one, absolutely no one was out on the roads and trails. I had the route all to myself. And I flew. I ran the 6 and a half mile course faster than I ever had (at the time). And I took great pride in the fact that I had been out there when no one else was. My running log for the day starts with: Epic Run!
There have been other Epic Runs over the years. If I'm lucky there are one or two a year. Runs that just stand out by virtue of being over. A twenty miler in rain the whole way. Personal bests that come on days when I didn't want to run. Runs in extreme heat or against a north wind at 25 mph. Runs in fresh snow early in the morning on streets and trails unmarked by anything except the rabbits. A race with both of my kids when they were young.
There are two things every one of my Epic Runs have: I run. And I am smiling like a fool when they are over.
There isn't much else in common between the Epic Runs. Some are with other people, some are solo runs. They can come at any time in any season. They can almost never be planned.
An Epic Run is an unexpected valuable gift. They are to be treasured since they are so rare.
And I've found that I can put in a bunch of ordinary runs on a bunch of ordinary days waiting for the next one...
Monday, February 21, 2011
Two Words
And this time I mean it: two words.
Yesterday was a warm day about 65. Bit warm for middle of February. Gray and overcast. Really windy out of the SSE at 25 with gusts up to 40.
I went out for a nice middle length run of 6.5 miles. I have a nice out and back course laid out that runs roughly north south. Going out there is a nice downhill from about mile 2.25 to the turn around point at 3.25 miles. And with the wind from behind you can really fly down the hill.
Problem is: what goes down must come up (when you are running that is).
So yesterday I reached the turn around point and headed for home into the teeth of the wind. Uphill. Wasn't pleasant. It was a struggle. And over the last quarter mile is a 50 foot rise. I wasn't feeling real good as I neared the top.
As I neared the top of the hill there was an older guy out for a walk. He was pushing his granddaughter (at least I think it was his granddaughter, she was dressed in pink) in a stroller. And he had one of those ankle biter rat dogs on a leash. I moved off the path to give him room to get by.
I kind of croaked out my standard greeting to those I pass: "Morning." It was morning after all.
And then he said the two words. It took me a couple of seconds for them to soak through my somewhat addled brain and register.
Those words were: "Looking good".
And they were exactly what I needed to hear. They carried me through the rest of the run home. Finished strong. I am grateful for those words of encouragement even if I am fairly certain the guy is a liar.
I am certain that I would have made the run home without hearing those two words. But they sure helped even if it was to get me off of how crummy I was feeling for a bit and get me back on what I enjoy about running.
As I finished my run I thought of how often as Christians we miss opportunities to encourage each other. Too often we rejoice over other people's discomfort and problems when we should be praying for them and encouraging them. Too often we pass by someone struggling and barely notice them.
The guy on the hill didn't have to say anything. I sure didn't recognize him. He could have just given me that half head nod guys usually give each other.
But he didn't...
Yesterday was a warm day about 65. Bit warm for middle of February. Gray and overcast. Really windy out of the SSE at 25 with gusts up to 40.
I went out for a nice middle length run of 6.5 miles. I have a nice out and back course laid out that runs roughly north south. Going out there is a nice downhill from about mile 2.25 to the turn around point at 3.25 miles. And with the wind from behind you can really fly down the hill.
Problem is: what goes down must come up (when you are running that is).
So yesterday I reached the turn around point and headed for home into the teeth of the wind. Uphill. Wasn't pleasant. It was a struggle. And over the last quarter mile is a 50 foot rise. I wasn't feeling real good as I neared the top.
As I neared the top of the hill there was an older guy out for a walk. He was pushing his granddaughter (at least I think it was his granddaughter, she was dressed in pink) in a stroller. And he had one of those ankle biter rat dogs on a leash. I moved off the path to give him room to get by.
I kind of croaked out my standard greeting to those I pass: "Morning." It was morning after all.
And then he said the two words. It took me a couple of seconds for them to soak through my somewhat addled brain and register.
Those words were: "Looking good".
And they were exactly what I needed to hear. They carried me through the rest of the run home. Finished strong. I am grateful for those words of encouragement even if I am fairly certain the guy is a liar.
I am certain that I would have made the run home without hearing those two words. But they sure helped even if it was to get me off of how crummy I was feeling for a bit and get me back on what I enjoy about running.
As I finished my run I thought of how often as Christians we miss opportunities to encourage each other. Too often we rejoice over other people's discomfort and problems when we should be praying for them and encouraging them. Too often we pass by someone struggling and barely notice them.
The guy on the hill didn't have to say anything. I sure didn't recognize him. He could have just given me that half head nod guys usually give each other.
But he didn't...
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Foreclosure Wickedness
Recently, CBS News ran a story about foreclosures. Not really a new topic given the current economic environment.
But reporter John Blackwell took a look at wealthy people in foreclosure. These particular homeowners are people who own million dollar homes and are able to pay the mortgage yet make a "business decision" and choose not to pay what the mortgage holder.
The reporter interviewed a guy who said that his house was worth $400,000 less than what he owed and it didn't make sense for him to sink money into a bad investment even though he could afford the $10,000 monthly mortgage payment. The homeowner said that the bank could take the loss.
Banks are even more reluctant to foreclose on million dollar homes since these homes cost a lot just to keep in sale-able shape. And a foreclosed million dollar plus home brings down the values of the neighborhood. One estimate is that one in twelve homes nationwide is in foreclosure and the rate is one in seven homes valued over a million dollars.
I want to be really clear that I am not talking about the average homeowner facing foreclosure due to job loss or other reasons. And there have been plenty of reports of banks abusing the foreclosure process. A lot of people are in desperate financial situations and foreclosure is the only way out for many people. Again: I am not talking about the average person facing foreclosure today.
But these are the people who are deliberately not paying their mortgages when they are able to pay.
In Psalm 37:21 it says: "The wicked borrows and does not repay, but the righteous is gracious and giving." (Holman Christian Standard Bible). I looked at a whole bunch of translations and I couldn't find a one that was any less clear on this subject.
Borrowing and not repaying when you have the ability to repay is wickedness. There is no out for making a "bad investment". This kind of behavior is not worthy of praise, it is only worthy of condemnation.
And I don't think I would trust someone who I knew pulled this sort of stunt. In anything...
But reporter John Blackwell took a look at wealthy people in foreclosure. These particular homeowners are people who own million dollar homes and are able to pay the mortgage yet make a "business decision" and choose not to pay what the mortgage holder.
The reporter interviewed a guy who said that his house was worth $400,000 less than what he owed and it didn't make sense for him to sink money into a bad investment even though he could afford the $10,000 monthly mortgage payment. The homeowner said that the bank could take the loss.
Banks are even more reluctant to foreclose on million dollar homes since these homes cost a lot just to keep in sale-able shape. And a foreclosed million dollar plus home brings down the values of the neighborhood. One estimate is that one in twelve homes nationwide is in foreclosure and the rate is one in seven homes valued over a million dollars.
I want to be really clear that I am not talking about the average homeowner facing foreclosure due to job loss or other reasons. And there have been plenty of reports of banks abusing the foreclosure process. A lot of people are in desperate financial situations and foreclosure is the only way out for many people. Again: I am not talking about the average person facing foreclosure today.
But these are the people who are deliberately not paying their mortgages when they are able to pay.
In Psalm 37:21 it says: "The wicked borrows and does not repay, but the righteous is gracious and giving." (Holman Christian Standard Bible). I looked at a whole bunch of translations and I couldn't find a one that was any less clear on this subject.
Borrowing and not repaying when you have the ability to repay is wickedness. There is no out for making a "bad investment". This kind of behavior is not worthy of praise, it is only worthy of condemnation.
And I don't think I would trust someone who I knew pulled this sort of stunt. In anything...
Monday, February 14, 2011
Outside Again
Yesterday the temperature hit 54. A nice day.
I haven't been able to run outside for a couple of weeks. We had a large snow storm the first of February and then last week we had a couple of inches. Large piles of snow blocked a lot of sidewalks and the trails I like to run on were covered with six or seven inches of snow.
So I have been stuck inside for my workouts. And I hate that. I have to get on the treadmill. And I really hate that. The only good part is that I get to see Jeopardy and yell at the contestants.
But there has been some good melting for the last few days and yesterday the streets were finally wide enough for me to feel semi safe running. I was able to wear shorts and get out in the sun.
It was great to get outside and run again even though there were still large piles of snow all over the place. There were a couple of bonehead drivers who cut it kind of close to me. Probably the same people who don't shovel their walks after a snow storm.
But the one thing I noticed is that I was kind of out of shape to run outside. Not out of shape, just off my form and not quite ready to run. A couple of pounds of sludge and crud seemed to have built up. It wasn't really a struggle but it wasn't a lot of fun either.
But today was much better. Felt better and ran faster even though I slept lousy last night (had to get up and talk with God about a couple of things at 135 this morning) and it was a bit colder out.
As I ran today, I realized that my relationship with God is kind of like that. If I am not daily working on that relationship, it gets off. There is kind of a build up of sludge that I have to clean out. I have to deal with those issues (lets call them what they are: my sin) that come between me and God on a daily basis.
But if I don't take the initiative and deal with that sin, it festers and slows me down, seeping into my joints and making me ineffective in my relationship with others. Its way easier to deal with it on a daily basis. The walk with Him is easier even as I grow stronger and take on greater challenges. If I am not daily working on the relationship, it makes it easier to take another day off and pretty soon I am heading in a totally different direction.
And I have to take that initiative. God is patient and waits for me to come back and confess my sins. No on else can do it for me.
Kind of like my runs...
I haven't been able to run outside for a couple of weeks. We had a large snow storm the first of February and then last week we had a couple of inches. Large piles of snow blocked a lot of sidewalks and the trails I like to run on were covered with six or seven inches of snow.
So I have been stuck inside for my workouts. And I hate that. I have to get on the treadmill. And I really hate that. The only good part is that I get to see Jeopardy and yell at the contestants.
But there has been some good melting for the last few days and yesterday the streets were finally wide enough for me to feel semi safe running. I was able to wear shorts and get out in the sun.
It was great to get outside and run again even though there were still large piles of snow all over the place. There were a couple of bonehead drivers who cut it kind of close to me. Probably the same people who don't shovel their walks after a snow storm.
But the one thing I noticed is that I was kind of out of shape to run outside. Not out of shape, just off my form and not quite ready to run. A couple of pounds of sludge and crud seemed to have built up. It wasn't really a struggle but it wasn't a lot of fun either.
But today was much better. Felt better and ran faster even though I slept lousy last night (had to get up and talk with God about a couple of things at 135 this morning) and it was a bit colder out.
As I ran today, I realized that my relationship with God is kind of like that. If I am not daily working on that relationship, it gets off. There is kind of a build up of sludge that I have to clean out. I have to deal with those issues (lets call them what they are: my sin) that come between me and God on a daily basis.
But if I don't take the initiative and deal with that sin, it festers and slows me down, seeping into my joints and making me ineffective in my relationship with others. Its way easier to deal with it on a daily basis. The walk with Him is easier even as I grow stronger and take on greater challenges. If I am not daily working on the relationship, it makes it easier to take another day off and pretty soon I am heading in a totally different direction.
And I have to take that initiative. God is patient and waits for me to come back and confess my sins. No on else can do it for me.
Kind of like my runs...
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Tourists in Egypt
As I write this the situation in Egypt is still up in the air.
Mubarak is still in power and the protests continue although there seems to be signs of protest fatigue after two weeks of protests. The protesters are growing tired.
I have watched as much of the news as I can handle. I have read as much of the newspapers and blogs coming out as I can stomach.
One image has stood out to me. About a week ago, I was watching the NBC Nightly News. The report was about how many museums and tourist attractions were closed.
Two tourists were standing outside of the pyramids. I am not sure whether or not they were Americans. I thought they spoke English with a slight accent that I couldn't quite place.
They were told that the pyramids were closed and that they should be open tomorrow. the couple expressed disappointment and said "What can you do? I guess we'll just have to come back tomorrow."
My thought as to what you can do: Get out! The country is crumbling around you and you want to see the pyramids? I realize that this could be a once in a lifetime trip, but you do not want it to be the last of your lifetime.
I guess the thing that irked me the most was that they seemed totally clueless as to what is going on around them.
And I hope that I am never that clueless...
Mubarak is still in power and the protests continue although there seems to be signs of protest fatigue after two weeks of protests. The protesters are growing tired.
I have watched as much of the news as I can handle. I have read as much of the newspapers and blogs coming out as I can stomach.
One image has stood out to me. About a week ago, I was watching the NBC Nightly News. The report was about how many museums and tourist attractions were closed.
Two tourists were standing outside of the pyramids. I am not sure whether or not they were Americans. I thought they spoke English with a slight accent that I couldn't quite place.
They were told that the pyramids were closed and that they should be open tomorrow. the couple expressed disappointment and said "What can you do? I guess we'll just have to come back tomorrow."
My thought as to what you can do: Get out! The country is crumbling around you and you want to see the pyramids? I realize that this could be a once in a lifetime trip, but you do not want it to be the last of your lifetime.
I guess the thing that irked me the most was that they seemed totally clueless as to what is going on around them.
And I hope that I am never that clueless...
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