Monday, July 30, 2012

Awakened by Glorious Tidings

 Since today is a much needed day of rest from training, I normally do not post on this blog in order to give my faithful readers time to contemplate my previous blogery. But upon receiving a receiving an encouraging transmission early this morning, I felt compelled to mention a bit of most glorious news.
 It appears that a most worthy and just crew of Frugelhorn Instructors have gathered in the municipality of San Antonio to discuss the most current trends in Frugelhorn marching formations and costumery. My heart has swelled with emotion with the knowledge that these robust and manly of men are working diligently to expand the current knowledge base of Frugelhorn techniques. And such dedication surely should not be unnoticed for their transmission came to me at 1 in the morning! To think that these lively and raucous gentelman are working late into the night vigorously discussing profound ways to improve marching formations is indeed inspiring! I thank these gentleman profusely for inspiring me to work with greater energy with our own young Fruglehorn players here in my fair city! I hope that in a few years that my very own offspring will be able to join them as an ally in the advancement of Frugelhornery if he so chooses to do so. Few things would make me prouder!
 At this time, I urge the young coaches in San Antonio to take the time to enjoy the scenic city and to make some time for relaxation and folly for few cities offer such intoxicating amenities as San Antonio.  I might suggest Dirty Nellies as a nice establishment to visit if one is inclined to enjoy refreshing libations and sing alongery in a darkened peanut shelled filled saloon along the refreshing Riverwalk. Additionally the nearby township of Bandera offers many challenging trails to pursue the sporting life, but please be cautioned of the pistolet duels that often occur on the town's main thoroughfair.
 Good tidings to all and to the dedicated gathering in San Antionio, I wish them a most adventerous day!

Sunday, July 29, 2012

A Long Run Shortened ....

After a deliberate study of my weekly plan, it became apparent that I was slightly ahead of schedule this week and The Plan's 4 mile jaunt would need to be adjusted to a shorter 2.5 miles in order to keep my lack of mileage under some form of reasonable control. I decided that Cedar Ridge Preserve, with its intense and steep pathery would be an excellent choice so I departed for the familiar preserve with the temperature showing a chilled 100 degrees.
The run itself felt like a brisk affair despite the intense technical paths that indeed presented a worthy challenge. My legs were still quite stiff from my previous runs, but I found them responding to almost 50% of my requests and with little consequence, I emerged from the trailhead in a state of near consciousness.
After drying off from my efforts, I embarked on my journey home as eagerly anticpated watching a portion of the Olympics hoping I would get at least a decent amount of inspiration from the elite athletes who are blessed to be competing. As I headed to my destination, I pondered whether my efforts would have any affect on my race in November. I am certainly making some feeble progress but my mileage is not near what will be needed in order to successfully DFL in the future. At least I can look forward with lacking confidence to an increase in mileage in the coming weeks that will no doubt give me a clear indication as to whether my body is ready for such a challenge. And with the temperature set to rise to near Amarillo-esque proportions, the weeks ahead will indeed present a test of my fortitude and dedication. For now, I will feast on banana split ice cream and detach myself from my future training endeavors.
I have included a summary of this week's follies and hope that those of you keeping track of my progress in your ledgers at home will find these statistics entertaining.

Total Miles Planned: 21.5
Total Miles Completed: 21.3
Total Miles Pursued by a Man With Possibly Unpure Intentions - 1
Total Times a Bicycle Enthusiast Was Heard Cursing Loudly After Crashing: 1
Total Coyote Incidents: 1
Total Unintentional Runs Clothed in Leedenhosiery - 1
Total Gastric Events on Runs - 0

Cedar Hill Revisited

After careful deliberation, I decided to attempt to run on a different trail on Saturday morning in order to facilitate a nice change of scenery and also for new opportunties for failure. After a quick study of available options, I came to the conclusion that Oak Cliff Nature Preserve would indeed be a pleasant departure from my previous routine so I departed with haste and great hope that new adventure would await me.
Upon arrival at the preserve, my hopes faded immediately upon seeing at least 50-60 bicycle enthusiasts in tight bicycle shorts gathered around the entrance. Still slightly squeamish from a run last week where I was briefly followed by a man with possible unpure intentions, I quickly changed course and headed for the hardy Cedar Hill State Park.
The Plan for Saturday called for 6 miles, so I decided to run the Blue Trail (7.5 miles) and see how my lack of conditioning would fair. If needed, I could run the 6 miles as planned and crawl the last 1.5 miles so that I could enjoy enjoy the scenery and the heat.
I started out running as slow as I could and with great deliberation. I forcibly held back any intentions to speed up and the strategy worked out brilliantly. I ran the first 4 miles without any need of emergency help and thus decided to take a walking break to invigorate myself for the final 3.5 miles. As I began my walk, I heard a pack of coyotes in the not too distant vicinity yelping with enthusiasm. I feared that my scent had reached them and I fearfully pondered whether I could escape their jaws if they came upon me. I decided that I would not be eaten without a brave but probably fuitless battle. Thus I grabbed the first stick I could and prepared for the worst. But alas! Mile 6 came upon me with no sound of the howling coyotes. With renewed hope I began to run again in earnest, hoping that my escape from the evil canines was successful.
As the temperature increased, I decided that walking the inclines and running the rest of the terrain would indicate sound judgement on my behalf so I followed this strategy for the rest of the run. As I approached the last half mile, I came upon 2 hikers who had stopped on the side of the trail. One of the poor hikers was laying face down on the side of the trail with his head resting on a water bottle. I assumed that the young man had succumbed to the heat and asked if they needed assistance. The conscious hiker replied that they had assistance en route so I continued my journey and decided that I would check on them upon my run completion. Shortly thereafter, I saw a kindly gentleman with an ice pack on the trail heading my way. I stopped and told him that I was indeed feeling fine and had no need for the ice pack. But there was gentleman in great dispair not 100 yards up this trail that would greatly benefit from his assistance! He gave me a disposing look and walked away towards the fallen hiker. How unpleasantly rude! I felt that this was no way to treat a lifesaving man as myself! But hark, I did not let his brashness affect me for I was closing in on the trailhead and was on course to relief myself of this run.
When I completed the trail, I immediately dispatched myself to the bike cleaning station to hose myself down with its cooling water. Upon my return, I saw 2 gentleman assisting the wobbly hiker back to their vehicle. I felt confident that his health was on the rebound and thought of the matter no more.
I finished my 7.5 miles a little faster than last week and felt that my training is making adequate yet slothful progress. I will study The Plan before Sunday's run to ensure my mileage is close to the prescribed amount. Thus I will adjust Sunday's run accordingly.

Friday, July 27, 2012

A Tale of a Wardrobe Folly....

A warm southern breeze gently blew across the dry marching fields as we concluded our meeting this evening with the young Frugelhorn player's parentage. Tonight's meeting was quite boisterous due to our discussions of uniform design. I presumed that my plan of gayly colored Lederhosened uniforms would show our appreciation for the classic Frugelhorn players of our distant pass. However, a strong contingent seemed set on more traditional Frugelhorn attire. With reluctance I relinquished my firm stance to display a spirit of friendly cooperation and to also get the meeting to a state of completion that would allow me to eventuate my nightly dash. I bid all in attendance a good evening and took off with frantic energy into the darkly night..
I had decided earlier in the day that I would run the same route as I ran this Tuesday past. I desired to see if my recent training consistency was assisting me in my return to my pre-surgery below average pace and to also set a benchmark on my ill progress.
At the 1 mile mark, I noticed that my pace was almost a minute and 30 seconds faster than Tuesday's run and thus decided to see if I could maintain this pace without causing a hinderance upon my immediate health. At mile 2, I reached a section I affectionately call Mile 2 Hill (or sometimes Mt. Regurgitation) which is a steady 50 foot climb over the entire 2nd mile. This is usually where I spend a goodly amount of time cursing my existence. Upon completion of mile 2, I took notice that I had only slowed 45 seconds per mile! At this time I felt a personal course record was within my feeble grasp and I gamely powered through the remaining 2.1 miles with dogged determination as passersby cheered me on! I was indeed in a state of excited ecstacy.
Upon reaching the conclusion of tonight's jaunt, I felt happily content that I had finished the course almost 5 minutes and 30 seconds faster than previous runs! I am thusly gaining confidence that my bizaare training methods may enable me to DFL in my future competitions.
Before I walked into the house I took notice of my current attire and cursed loudly to the heavens and thrashed wildy in the yard, ripping the very clothes that were upon me in ceremonial disgrace! Apparently in my haste to begin my nightly run, I had somehow forgotten to change out of the Lederhosenry I was modeling in for the Frugelhorn parentage! (read again if necessary)... Gasp! It appears the raucous mob was not yelling out words of encouragement when I hurriedly departed our gathering. They were instead attempting to derail me from certain embarrassment from my fellow citizens! This explains the honking and exclamations I incurred upon my journey as I pushed my efforts beyond what was previously possible. While on my route with deeply concentration, I thought my fellow denizens were encouraging me as they drove by and I would give them a hearty wave and snarling smile and then with a quick hop, lower my head and continue my run displaying fearless steadfastness in a display of gratitude for their unsolicited support. For I even jumped up and clicked my heels together several times in an attempt to entertain several stopped vehicles as I crossed many intersections. In reality, now I realize they were questioning my sanity and not cheering on my effort and dedication after all! I truly hope that I do not become a feature of the local gazettes as I remember many vehicles stopping to photograph me.
Alas! I have gone from a sporting, kingly man to a dawdling jester in a matter of minutes. I am surely cursed and must dig deep within my resources in order to successfully rebound from tonight's shocking events.
I sadly have attached a screen shot of what will go down in history as the Lederhosen 4.1.
I plan not to run tomorrow so I can spend time contemplating my previous wardrobe folly and I will look ahead with great anticipation hoping that my trail run on Saturday morning will not be a career ending debauchery.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Run Away....

After careful deliberation of not more than 32 seconds, I came to the conclusion that I shall perform today's training at the joyfully gay Gateway Park in Ft Worth after completion of my daily job assignments. This would allow more free time at the conclusion of my run to work on the marching plans for the young Frugelhorn players with fellow instructors this evening.
I had minor reservations about the safety of this run due to the rising outdoor temperature (picture shown below), but I felt confident that I could avoid certain hospitalization by strategic pace regulation. For me this is fortunately not a challenging obstacle in the least.
I started the run fearing little interaction from fellow outdoor enthusiasts as myself due to torrid conditions and I joyfully embarked on my journey with great enthusiasm and a slowness of gait.
As I reached the conclusion of mile 1, I looked behind me and to my surprise was a gentleman running not 12 paces behind me. Startled, I immediately moved to the side of the trail to display a courteous demeanor to allow this fellow outdoorsman to pass by so that he would not be held up by my lagging effort. For he appeared to be a kindly fit gentleman who was enjoying the ecstatic views the sporting life provides when one exercises in the splendidness of nature. To my surprise the nice fellow stopped as well and asked me to continue my run and if I would be so kind to allow him to follow me since he had never ran on this particular trail before. I saw that this propitious gentleman had no means of hydration upon him! Hark! To engage in physicalities In this heat, the gentleman must be remarkably fit and full of potent energy! Sensing an opportunity to display my lacking skills and poor stamina, I gave him my permission to follow and continued my undertaking.
After 3 minutes of me robustly bounding through the path, I looked behind and the gentleman was still trailing behind my posterior, but his breathing was hampered and of a heavy nature.
Then a thought entered my consciousness that changed my perspective on this gentleman's motives. Perhaps gaining fitness and being an advocate of the sporting life was not this gentleman's objective and thought it quite feasible that he had other intentions on his mind. Intentions that were perhaps more consistent with the reputations that this park, in some underground circles, has been known for. Especially those intentions one would often find in back page advertisements in such certain publications as Craigslist, the Dallas Observer or The Voice. All fine publications in their own right, but tend to cater to a select group of the population of which my social network rarely frequents with great regularity.
After a brief moment of indecision, I determined that I had but one choice that could facilitate me any means of safe passage. Despite my continual insistence of running slow, I picked the pace up considerably to see if the gentleman's intentions were rabid or peaceful. My efforts increased and soon I was cresting the elevations powerfully and appeared as a manic pinball ricocheting off the trails edges on the descents. Rarely have I displayed such technical skills or energy! After burning through 1 mile and a half more, I peered behind me and the poor gentleman was near no more. He had either failed to keep my pace or vanished mystically into the thick air! At this time I can not discern with any confidence the motives of this man, if in fact he was a man at all. It very well could have been an apparition of my heat infected mind. Whether I was being followed for pure or scandalous reason by a gentleman or a banshee, it matters not. I finished the trail completely and felt that I was reasonably safe upon my return to my means of transport. But Alas! What of that mysterious man... Will I be haunted by his image or will these strange events become forgotten like a feverous, malarious dream....
My Plan was to achieve 4.5 miles this day and though I certainly felt I could have continued further, I ceased my exercise at the trailhead after completing 3.1 miles (pictured below) and rapidly evacuated the premises. I will leave the contemplation of today's events for another time for too many potential scenarios create fear and confusion.
I feel it would behoove me to end on a brighter note. After a brief text conversation with my brother David who resides in the heated burg of Amarillo, it has come to my attention that tourism in that high desert has risen nominally since my mention of it in this blog. I would encourage all who are considering a visit to that municipality to do so with great enthusiasm, especially to watch their talented Frugelhorn players display great marching precision with their famous Winged T formation in the fall marching season. It is an uniquely blessed event that shan't be forgotten.
I bid you great tidings and hope that you look forward to my training session on the morrow as much I do not.
But what of that man... What does this mean?

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

A Disappointing Affair!

I began this day with fear and such great trepidation that accomplishing even simple tasks was quite challenging. For this day I was scheduled to see the surgeon whom dedicated his life to haunting me forever and from whose actions I will always be scarred. My fear was precipitated by the painful nature of the exam that I fear would be needed in order to facilitate my full release from his cursed care. I entered into the Dr's office quietly and with hope that my earlier bomb threat would be successful.
As I was called into the chamber of horrors, I tried to show my courage by bravely fleeing but was caught by 2 hairy chested men dressed in animal skins whom promptly dragged me screaming to the room of examination. The 2 beasts followed me into the room and the nurse asked me to disrobe so that the Dr could proceed with his study of my recovery. As I performed the requested act, I couldn't help but notice the look of enthusiasm and anticipation that fell upon the beasts as they grunted and clapped their hands with uncharacteristic glee.
Shortly thereafter, the Dr appeared in the room dressed in leather and riding a child's stick horse as a song evidently called Careless Whispers began to play from an unknown source while the lights magically dimmed. I can safely say that this bizarre mood setting nearly caused my bladder to uncontrollably release.
The Dr, after dismounting his toyful steed, lifted up my gown briefly then after quick inspection announced me completely healed and then skipped out of the room. I grabbed my clothes and bounded from the room as quickly as possible! Dressing as I ran as if I was a caught teenager escaping the wrath of an angry father after being caught with his precious daughter playing Strip Go Fish.
After my narrow escape from almost certain rapery, I began to plan this night's run which would take place after Frugelhorn practice with the young men. This run would take place on the same route as last Thursday of which I spewed violently in the view of the ridiculing public. Needless to say, I felt with great confidence that should the opportunity present itself again, I shall proudly spew again.
With great disappointment, I announce that this run of 4.1 road miles did not produce any kind of gastric event worth noting. I was able to make it back to my domicile with most types of DNA contained within my person. The young Frugelhorn players will be disappointed in my efforts and will no doubt march with little enthusiasm at Thursday's practice upon hearing this.
I was able to fatigue myself quite thoroughly though and was able to attach a photograph of my finish. Additionally, I have attached a screen shot of my route this evening which will no doubt give you a clear indication of my apparent lack of talent.
Alas I look forward to a slow run through trails tomorrow that will include an ample amount of time of me being either lost or chased by angry mimes.
Right! Until tomorrow then.

Sunday, July 22, 2012

The Intimidation of Future Opposition

After careful study of The Plan, I was pleased to find that a run of 5 miles would culminate this week's workouts. This run would be the second of back to back long runs that have become a a featured component of ultra running protocols. Feeling somewhat recovered from yesterday's heat stroke, I headed to Cedar Ridge Preserve early this morning to avoid any future heat induced infirmary visits.
Upon arrival, I took notice of several large groups of people gathered in the parking lot. None of which asked me to join with them. Obviously these groups were fearful of the Ultra-Idiot and did not wish to be included with my impending mis-adventure. I carefully navigated to the trailhead with great haste and disguise (a fake beard and mustache) so that I may not be delayed by overly enthusiastic autograph seekers. This plan worked brilliantly and I danced excitedly upon my approach of the trailhead.
Though I found the terrain quite challenging, the temperature was indeed more comfortable than yesterday. Thus my objective was to enjoy my excursion with as minimal effort and speed as possible.
Several times this morning I found other runners on the trail and noticed their looks of anger upon seeing me. It is sad that I, being such a strong proponent of the active lifestyle and a soon to be celebrity, would be treated with such disdain. I deduced that perhaps these runners were also training to DFL and that my methods were creating fear in their heart of hearts.
Using Map My Run worked well for me this morning except for 2 issues. The first was a random shut down of the recording of my workout at mile .94. But I was able to start another workout immediately, thus today's screen shot capture will include both workouts. I apologize for any distress this causes you and your family.
The 2nd malfunction is more of nuisance than anything else. The program contains a lady's voice that loudly announces my time and pace upon completion of each mile. I am fearful that her announcements will alert my DFL opponents of my time and pace as the scout me. While I enjoy this feature, I wonder if I could change this so she will announce my progress in another language so that I can create opponent confusion. Maybe a language such as Antarctican. I vow to research this at my convenience.
Upon my completion of today's run, I was preparing to depart the premises when I noticed another previously seen runner at his vehicle. He grabbed another hydration bladder and headed back out to the trail. I could do more than laugh at his folly. I obviously motivated him to run an extra loop or 6. I feel somewhat sorry for him. He has no idea that I am genetically and physically predisposed to DFL. But I do admire his attempt to foil my plans, though they will not be successful by any means. I will laughingly respect him but I will not falter in achieving what is rightfully mine!
Total Miles This Week: 25.42
Total Planned Miles This Week: 23.5
I exceeded all expectations and I am a legend.
I will plan to run thus again this coming Tuesday after successful back to back runs this weekend. Have a pleasant and adventurous day!

Saturday, July 21, 2012

The Infernos of Hades Are Upon Thee

Today's mis-adventure began with the temperature @ 93 F with the timepiece showing 10:16am at Cedar Hill State Parkery. My plan was to complete 8 miles and to obtain great feats of poor endurance. With the thermometer rising and knowingly accepting the fact that my family members in Amarillo are giggling at what they consider a cold front, I embarked on my journey with little confidence that I would be successful at any stretch of my feeble imagination.
The trail was sparsely populated upon my start probably due to the fact few people are apt to exercise in such heated conditions. My plan was to run 2 miles and walk 1 and then continue alternating in such manner until I either completed the run (8 miles) or was found unconscious on the trail. Either outcome would be considered a success.
I completed the first 2 miles with minimal effort and with a rare showing of restraint, I walked the next mile.
The temperature began to rise at faster increments when I began mile 4 and after 4.8 miles, I decided that a good walk would be not only refreshing, but also consistent to not be fast. At this time I noticed that my hydration bladder was getting lighter so I decided that pushing my limited abilities could be catastrophic.
I fast walked the rest of the trail mixed with some running and felt fortunate upon its completion because the temperature had risen to a chilly 98 degrees and would soon be a chillier 106. I finished my hydration means one half mile from the end of the trail and staggered out with audible gasps from gathered trail fans. With good fortune and planning, I had additional hydration nearby that provided great relief and and a weakened dance of unenergetic enthusiasm. I attempted to skip gayly to the nearby water fountain to rinse off, but my efforts resembled a bath salted addict searching for a face to eat after being up for 7 days straight.
I do have some news that will provide you great pleasure. My runs can now be tracked on Map My Run. If you can friend Ultra Idiot on Map My Run, you can track my runs as they take place. It will be like virtually watching me suffer. I feel this would bring great enjoyment to all who wish to do so. And additionally, if you see a prolonged halt in movement, you can inform the proper authorities of my location!
My next run is tomorrow morning @ 8am. You could easily track my progress while visiting your chosen churchery! How exciting!
I have attached a screen shot of today's run!

Friday, July 20, 2012

Unsuccessful Multi-tasking!

 After giving my charred bottom some rest (not in a total sense but hopefully a relief sense but not even that either as I recollect yesterday events privately), I decided that perhaps a run tonight would be in order since my Chafe of Booty no longer resembled the glowing remains of a recent campfire. A & D oitment did a wondrous job providing a most excellent and surprising recovery. I regret not having reported this yesterday. Perhaps next time I incur such a serious life threatening injury, I will give a timely update so the rest of you can go about your day and not worry yourselves with the predicament that placed me in such rashful bondage.
 Before I began my training plans, I had to coordinate the feasibility of a run because on this night a meeting of young frugelhorn players and their parents was to convene and my attendence was requested. After a cursory check of a local map and some careful triangulation, I discerned that the meeting's location was a mere 4.1 miles from my home.The run could in fact take place since my son and younger brother were asked to attend the meeting as well. We could ride to the meeting together and after dismissal of the frugelhorn players and their parents, I could run home. All agreed that this was an excellent plan and much rejoicing took place of which I took great part in.
 Upon the meeting's conclusion, I began my run with tempered enthusiasm. Knowing that few options were available to me along the planned route to dispose of any natural needs that could occur while en route, I deeply desired that I would complete the run without need of any portable waste management modules and dutifully took a healthy dose of Bismol of Pepto to give my bowels a strong resistance should they decide to erupt catastrophically.
 About approximately mile 1.2, my son and brother drove by me on the road and showed their respect of my running ability by showering me with bags of refuse from a local eatery. It felt nice that at least some of the refuse that was accurately hurled at me this night was lovingly thrown from my own family.
 Fortunately my bowels behaved quite admirably on this run, but my bladder decided it would have none of this great behavior and at mile 1.99 I found a quaint alley to spell out the name of this blog in liquid waste format on a wooden fence off the road. Upon my artful completion, I began my run again but noticed that a slight dizziness had fallen upon me. After slowing down to help alleviate the dizziness, an urge to expel the contents of my stomach orally struck me in such a violent manner that I could not deny my stomach's desire. After a few moments of wretchful dry heaving, I walked 20 cubics and found the dizziness subsiding enough to continue running and did so with gayful jubilation.
 Fortunately I was able to finsh tonight's journey with little additional complication and was quite proud of myself for earning another badge of ultra-honor. I feel that no one is more dedicated to DFLing than I. Thusly, I am quite hopeful that such efforts will keep my spirits in good measure.

Tonight's Stats for those of you keeping score in your ledgers at home:
Total Miles - 4.1
Total Miles Regurgitating - .02
Minutes of Dizziness - 10
Total Miles Thus Far This Week - 12.1

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

The Making of a Disastrous Ultra-Runner

A warm south wind kissed my face as I prepared for tonight's adventure. With little time to head to the pleasures found on the trail, I decided to continue my efforts to build endurance on the concreted roads proximal to my abode.
I started of slowly and festively and upon completion of my first mile, I began to wonder if my intended 3 miles and a half more would be somewhat of a manageable affair and began to plan on the addition of more miles.
However my bowels did not seem to hold the same opinion and I found myself searching with frantic energy for a solution to the erupting dilemma. I have heard that true ultra-runners face this issue several times in a long race and successful runners have the most outstanding of skills to manage issues such as this with the highest of efficiencies. Within my proprinquity there are many street repairs occuring and I curse them enthusiastically as I attempt to traverse them. But with a large congregation of street repairmen, there are also large congregations of portable Necessary Modules. With great fortune there was one nearby and with before unseen speed I raced for it with great enthusiasm as I held my bottom and felt blessed that it was not occupied upon my arrival. I will spare you the details of what exactly incurred within the walls of that small sanctuary, except for the fact that one necessary item that is needed upon completetion of such a ghastly act was indeed of a poorer quality than I am accustomed to. A feeling of sandpaper comes to mind when I recollect its usage. I had limited options at this time other than trying to reach a family member through cellular phone communication (help for I have fallen and I have no corn cobs - please pick me up with great haste) . Therefore, I made the unsound decision to continue my journey.
However, I still felt ensured that my plan to add miles was not in jeopardy so I continued at my slow pace with hopes of adding an additional 1 mile and half more. By the time I was able to complete the second mile, a burning began in my loins that had not been felt since I was diapered (which was yesterday). With much dismay I concluded that a serious rash was forming. The Chafe of Booty was upon me with the greatest of force. I have chosen to spare you a graphic description of this indignity other than to tell you I forced myself to continue running with perhaps my greatest display of dedication. And undeniable stupidity.
When I returned home, an immediate soaking in the tubbery (and to think it is not even Saturday) was immediately completed which was proceeded by a most generous application of Ointment of A & D (of which I feel, at this time, is the greatest of inventions this world has known).
After researching this ailment, I found that many runners have experienced similar tragedies and thusly I feel this is a badge of honor and take great pride in my accomplishment (but not to the point of skipping another application of the great ointment).
Tonight's run totaled 5 miles and now I have a new weapon in my arsenal to aid me in my quest to DFL: The Cursed Chafe!
Hark! Last Place is Mine!

Monday, July 16, 2012

A Road Revisited

With this week's off running activities diminishing my hopes of staying on schedule, I decided to run on my off day. As I pondered this decision while eating my evening's meal of battered steak with ample amounts of gravy with potatoes mashed with cow's milk, I questioned if there was any way to get some miles in without risk of extreme muddiness. It was at this time I felt my best option was to run through the neighborhood for tomorrow's planned 3 miles us a half more tonight instead of on the morrow. I felt somewhat comfortable running through the streets. I have done so on many occasions and very poorly I might add. Some of these runs were intentional and some were for avoidance of local and international law enforcement agents.
I totalled a sloppy 3.6 miles and as my run reach completence, I felt that my pace and form did not damage my chances of finishing last in any future running engagements.
As I rung out my sweat filled attire in the front yard in a state of partial nudity, I was approached by my son Branden who evidently had been listening to a modern comedic minstrel who sang songs in an operatic manner. I obviously felt honored that Branden chose to put some words of my running exploits in operatic form and shared them with me.
I will try to recite the verse for you now in hopes that they will give you unbridled pleasure:
Me Father-o
He run slow-lo
He went puke-o
On the side-o
When he skips-o
Along the trail-o
Everybody in the town call him
The El Slap-o Ultra- Idio-lo

I am pleased that my efforts have been heralded in song and am quite sure that this song would be well received by the adoring public, sheep and other various forms of swine and livestockery.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

An Unexpected Mud Run

With my work duties in a semi-state of calmness after much activity, I felt inspired to attempt a run after supper's meal. A brief yet intense summer squall put the fate of the run in question, but the skies cleared as I pulled into Cedar Ridge Preserve and I felt with some confidence that my run would be completed with little complication.
As I began the run, I silently celebrated the cooler temperatures and was quite pleased that I surprisingly had a hop in my step that I had been missing since my surgery. Unfortunately my hop became more of an unorganized shuttle. The trails were inundated with mud due to the previous storm. Mentally noting that I had some experience with running in mud, I forged ahead but knew that the boggy conditions would prohibit me from running any great distances. The mud became such a hindrance that each step was accompanied by scraps of mud flinging about in resemblance of a diarrhea cannon. Frequent stops to scrape my shoes clean were needed in order to traverse even the easiest of trail sections. However, I was pleased that at least I would get a limited amount of work in and happily skipped along slowly with enthusiasm and gayness.
The final tally was a paltry 2.3 miles. Not near the 7 miles total I had hoped for, but at least I was satisfied with my fortune of accomplishing any training at all. Additionally, I surmised that it takes great dedication to finish DFL and this run did not in any way hurt my chances of doing so!
And with great pride I would like to announce that I have worked out a sound strategy that will all but ensure my chances of finishing DFL come November hence. I will share this strategy with all my loyal readers soon. But firstly I wish to finalize my plan so that I can present it to you confidently and with great pride.
I have attached a couple of photographs to give some detail of tonight's run and sincerely wish that they give you some enjoyment. One is a photograph of me headbanded in the Necessary Room upon run completion. The headband performed a satisfactory job of keeping my eyes clear of sweat and I am pleased with its performance, as well as it making me appear as a lead singer of Loverboy. I also captured a photograph of my shoes AFTER I cleaned them before leaving. This will give you, the reader, a clear picture of the conditions of which challenged me this evening!
My total miles this week totaled a flaccid and feeble 10.6. With my quest to finish DFL, I know that I will need to increase my mileage this coming week and look forward with great hope that I will able to achieve many disastrous runs in the next 7 days!

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Gateway's Mysteries Yet Unsolved

Run #3 Post Surgery
After the near deadly fall into an increasingly raging torrent the day before, I was resolved to complete today's journey with minimal consequences. My employer has dispatched me to work through the weekend and I fear that the lack of time will prohibit me from any intentional running on days to come.
Before I left the trailhead at the wonderfully gay Gateway Park, I spent many valuable seconds studying the map I had previously allocated. Perhaps with great deliberations, I would be able to recollect from whence my wrong turn occurred the night before and with great luck I could correct the misfortunate disaster that nearly took place one day past and no more.
After folding the map neatly in my pocket, I took off with great courage to run 4 miles and to avoid running off a cliff scaring not families of innocent creatures.
Fortunately for myself I approached a group of mustached enthusiasts on mountain bikes near mile one and I was able to follow them for a brief way. With this unscheduled turn of events, I would surely be able to avoid certain off-trail catastrophes and would be able to complete my jaunt.
It is with deep regret that i report that I evidently missed a goodly portion of the trail because within a brief 33 minutes more I was nearing the trail's end! I checked my timepiece and and I had only run 2 and 4 tenths miles! What great mysteries this trail breeds that appear beyond my capability to unravel. My ancient maps must be incorrect! Yet I am determined with great vigilance to crack the code that befuddles me.
Despite the fact that my run was greatly shortened due to map inaccuracies, which I'm quite certain were probably placed in my hands by enemies, I feel somewhat pleased that I kept my pace very minimal. This will no doubt be able to prepare me for last place success!
This weekend coming forth, I will not greatly record my running mis-adventures due to work obligations.
I bid all a great weekend! Please do not wish me a good weekend. Because of my work duties, it will feel like a humiliating kick to the nether regions!

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Slothfulness Employed to Prevent a Traumatic Tumble

2nd Run Since Surgery...
After yesterday's escape from a raging mob threatening to lynch me for creating terror amongst women and small children, I deemed Cedar Ridge Preserve off limits for today's amble. After quick deliberation, I decided that Gateway Park would be a reasonable choice due to its proximity to the office of my chosen profession.
With not a very soul in site except for a small gathering of mustached Peruvians discussing aged nude camps a goodly 50 yards from the trailhead, I was fortunate to embark on today's journey with minimal distraction.
I was able to allocate an ancient map of the trail before my arrival through questionably legal means earlier this day. Thus with a quick study of the route before me, my confidence in staying reasonably close on the planned path was minimally high.
As I embarked on my journey, I reminded my self in due course that this path is not technically challenging. Therefore today's mantra would be You Can Always Run Slower. This was especially powerful because the muscles of my legs were painfully sore from yesterday's pathetic effort.
True to my prognostication of this trail offering little challenge, I began my run with confidence that today's effort could be moderately successful (despite my inadequate fitness).
With few technical features, I was able to gloriously jaunt through the first 1/2 mile and a 1/2 more with little incident of which caused me any concern.
After a quick sip from my hydration bladder, I came upon a sheltered pavilion which seemed to be at some recent time a gathering place for people to enjoy cheaper malted libations. This assessment was made from the abundant numbers of discarded adult beverage cans that had made their home throughout the immediate area. I checked my map and with great shock deduced that somehow I had escaped from my predestined path and was apparently not where I had hoped to be. With a quick recalculation, I headed towards the other side of the pavilion while avoiding the discarded aluminum land mines that were obviously placed to impede my progress. Upon reaching the other side of the pavilion, I seemed to right myself and began to progress down a trail that appeared to be heading in the proper direction. With little time lost, I felt with some confidence that I was back on schedule.
After many turns and switchbacks, I noticed that the condition of the trail began to degrade and I heard the sound of a nearby river. With great hope that a change in scenery would soon be upon me, I forged ahead. As I rounded a small turn I suddenly halted because not a 1/2 foot before me was a 20 feet cliff that rose above the afore mentioned river! Due to my quick and unplanned cessation of forward movement, dirt and rocks spilled into the waterway below me forcing a family of terrapins to quickly jump into the river. They were obviously annoyed at my clumsiness and appeared fearful that I would soon join them. I instantly grabbed a tree limb to keep from sliding any further. The path had continued to my right along the cusp of the cliff. With great care and by employing the usage of many limbs and branches I was able to maneuver slowly along the path as I knocked a goodly amount of dirt and rocks over the edge of the cliff into the river with great ruckus. This caused another family of terrapins to suddenly launch into the river, clearly not wanting to be anywhere near my impending landing below.
After clearing the edge of the cliff, I felt with great relief that my narrow path was moving back inland and I do not know if it was I nor the terrapins that were more the happy.
After initiating my run once more, I deduced that had I been a runner of even average speed, I would not have stopped in time at the afore mentioned cliff and would have been the victim of a most dehabilitating purge into depths unknown. Obviously I still had not regained passage on the correct pathway. But shortly thereafter, a new well traveled path appeared before me and I was able to begin my journey again, hopefully avoiding any serious consequences.
The rest of my run took place with little incident other than my pace causing a great shortness of breath. I applied my mantra and ran as slow as I could manage. My form resembled that of an aged man stumbling through the woods who had recently filled his diaper with filth, but was too senile to realize it.
Upon reaching my horseless carriage, I journeyed home to replenish my lagging nutrition. I feasted on a plate of sauced spaghetti that could nary be lifted by hand and filled my stomach so fully that it appeared I was the OctoMom just prior to birth. Then upon discovering a tasty dessert of strawberried shortcake, I consumed such a vast quantity of it that it took great effort to see the toes of my feet beneath me when standing due to the expansion of my midsection.
I am beaching myself within my bedchamber at this time, fervently praying that the terrapins did not follow me home to pay me back for interrupting their pre-dusk slumber.
Miles Ran - 3.6
Cliffs Fallen Off Of - 0

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

How to Be Victorious in Being Defeated

Day 16 AS (After Surgery). My quest to return to my running struggles has begun in earnest. After completion of my jobly dispatches, I found partially clear skies awaiting me as I headed to Cedar Ridge Preserve to once again begin my training with much enthusiasm and vigor. I decided that 2-4 miles would indeed be a goodly amount to begin with and I embarked upon my victorious return to mediocrity.
The first leg of my journey was the perfect picture of the despicable footwork, form and fitness. I beganst at a slow pitiful pace then decided that since I was currently in vertical orientation, a slower pace would be needed to improve my chances at unconsciousness.
I feel it is most important that I produce the fact that since a fair crowd appeared to be around the trailhead upon my arrival, I had decided to take the hardest and most daring trail at the preserve. This haste decision was based on the premise that I did not wish other patrons of this crowded byway to be involuntarily sprayed with the leftover contents of my stomach. Which most surely contained remnants of a 12inch Subway sandwich that was
rapidly consumed at my mid-day's meal with a modest amount of fried chips of potato (Sponsorship Opportunities are flourishing!). I humbly felt that this sacrificial decision would not be properly appreciated by the proximal patrons.
My mantra during the beginning stages of this modest training endeavor was to Just Run. A simple yet inspiring mantra by any stretch of the imagination!
As I approached mile 1.3, my mantra metamorphosed into Just Breath for I am certain that I resembled a carp that had been caught by a crafty mustached fisherman and hastily thrown ashore; struggling to breath as it flopped spastically on the shore of an aged nude encampment.
As I violently struck upon mile 1.9, My Mantra modified lastly to Why Are These Children Running From Me Screaming as I emerged from the depths of the wooded trail. It is as if my gait and stiff limbs appeared to resemble a zombie that had arose from the grave! Nonetheless, I ignored their invidious screams of horror as I confusedly wandered around the entrance searching for my means of transport as crowds of terrified persons dispersed on my approach. Scattering about as if I been just birthed from the bowels of Hell!
Finally, I was able to locate my horseless carriage despite great difficulty. And with a quick voluminous dispatch of bile upon my shirt, I rigidly crawled into the seat to begin my return to my humblest of abodes.
I find that if you can not be fast and of fit means, perhaps it is not so disfavorable to be slow and shockingly cadaverous!
Total Mileage Today - 2.2
Total People Frightened - 27
Before and After Pictures Attached for clarification purposes.

A Wounded Phoenix Prepares to Arise....

It is with great displeasure that I transcribe these bitter yet humble words. Forgive me for it has been 18 days since my last blogflection. But as I prepare for my ascent from this shallow grave, I feel compelled to inform you of my current state and let you dispose your own opinion of the indignities that befelled me.
The surgical intervention, according to the Barbaric Butcher (whose wolfskin headdress and g-string made of empty gord which was proudly displayed casting a medieval foreshadowing of my almost certain peril), was quite successful. But I do not share such sentiment. Upon awakening from the vile cocktail that thankfully placed me in an amnesiac slumber, the horrors had just begun to rear their ugly heads from the Depths of Purgatory. Whilst the surgery was complete, this tale of darkness had just begun....
Upon being told that once bodily function and excretion can be returned with confidence, I would be allowed to exscape this Prison of Pain and return to my most humble domicile to convalesce peacefully. Despite many stumbles to the Necessary Room, my faith in such an occurence began to dwindle quite rapidly. After numerous attempts to dispose of any waste, rather by accident or intention and my inability to walk such a short distance without causing unknown objects to rapidy crash to the ground due to an induced foggy stupor, it became known to me by persons employed at the Infirmary that my exodus from capture would not take place unless graphic tubal intervention of catheterous proportions took place!
At this time, I did what any courageous and God Fearing man would do when faced with such circumstances. I made a plea to all of humanity that surely someone of nearby proximity needs to borrow my Necessary Room for their own relief! And to show my appreciation and honor of such kindly act, that person would need not dispose of their waste by flushing the Throne of Uselessness. I would be quite honored and pleased to handle such a degrading and meaningless act upon its completion and proudly show such Golden Elixir to the Evil Nurse who was making no attempt to nurse me at all.
But alas, all of humanity declined my wailing pleas and walked around me as if I was deemed mad and unsafe. As I began to crawl away in my escape attempt down the never ending corridor, a gentleman with an apparent nice disposition distinguishly dressed as an electrician with a mustache resembling that of a bicycle handlebar approached me and offered his kindly assistance to facilitate my escape. He picked me up gently and with great care lead me back to my Dungeon of Dispair as I thanked him profusely for his tenderness and compassion. Hark Humanity Lives!
It is with deepest concern for your sanity that I describe the next moments! He placed me softly upon the bed and then forced me down applying restraints that appeared out of nowhere. Then smirkingly placed a cloth over my midsection. With shocking horror I realized that this gentleman is in fact no gentleman at all. But a Demon with full intent on causing me great pain. He produced a long tube that was fastened to a clear empty bag and then began to (I write this with a complete lack of any dignity whatsoever) force the tube millimeter by millimeter (metric system used for dramatic effect) through a bodily member that was clearly not designed for such an act. The pain was unbearable as my life passed before me. I heard screams of anguish and knew that someone nearby was simularly suffering and too was at death's door. Then I realized those screams from a soul that sounded as if it had been abandoned from God and all Mankind were animating from my own person. As vile liquids of various colors coursed from an unthinkable but very real source, out of my body and down the afore mentioned tube, I began to fade in and out of consciousness. As my bladder emptied its contents though the tube and into the waiting bag, my will to live emptied into certain oblivion. Darkness. Just Darkness...
Upon awakening with the greatest of discomfort, I saw that the mustachio'd gentleman imposter had cowardly fled the area and release papers were mysteriously left upon my bed. Evidence of the horrid crime was nowhere to be seen. Apparently I was free to leave at my own readiness. But in reality, the terror that envelopes my soul did not stay in that chamber of torture. I yet see it every instant that I close my eyes.
Upon my return home (which escapes my memory but not that of my hired driver who apparently had to deal with my repeated requests to be taken to McDonald's Playland so I could dance with Grimace), I decided that the only way to deal with rebuilding my health and dignity was to generously take advantage of the the healing ointments and pain reducing pills that were fortunately provided. They taketh my dignity and replace it with numbing narcotics!
The next 4 meals I ate violently left my body. Departing from my oral cavity with such loud upheaval that neighbors had a thought a crime of the most grotesque proportions had taken place! As I attempted to evacuate my violated bladder, it felt as if large pieces of forged glass were trapped inside me and were attempting to escape despite the bloodiest of consequences.
The next 6 days were filled with painful contractions and blood seepage at the surgical site which kept me in the most rabid discomfort and in need of constant undergarment changing.
But since Day 7 of My Apocalypse, I have been fortunate to make slow and almost indecipherable progress.
And at this time, 18 Days from my last blogfection, I have begun to plan my return to the trails of running imperfection so that I may once again complete my quest to DFL.
Yesterday I prepared to embark on a lightly trail run @ Cedar Ridge Preserve in an attempt to relieve my body of the recent events with toxic sweat. Perhaps a foolish attempt to detoxify my body. Yet as I turned into the entrance, a violent tempest reared upon me with large drops of rain and thunderous bolts of lightning that apparently caused distant professional athletes to cower in their dugouts. I abandoned my plans and thought it best to try again on the morrow.
Tonight I again attempted to take my humble efforts to Cedar Ridge Preserve, Then I remembered that the stately establishment does not open on Mondays. With flexible adjustment ability, I declared that I could certainly run around the neighborhood for 3 miles and half more with great ease. But as I departed, more lightning appeared with dark clouds fast approaching. This surely was not meant to be. For if God chooses to cleanse this area with rare July storms, I surely am not able to contest such acts. A message is being sent to me in such insubtle ways that I can not argue. I will attempt again tomorrow. If little else, the storms have allowed me to rekindle my enthusiasm for this blog.
I have adjusted the plans of my training so that despite my 2 week and 1 more hiatus, I shall be be on schedule to complete the race November henceforth with great confidence in my ability to create lasting indignities upon my person. For I have recently rehearsed such endeavors and now am adequately prepared to provide furtherence to such acts.