New iPod Nano showed up at the house today.

Yet, somehow, I avoided heading straight home and managed to do a couple of miles over on Jamestown tonight. And what a run it was! My initial urge was to take the camera along, as I think this was my last run with green trees for the year, and I hit the soccer field parking lot just as the “Golden Hour” began. Blue skies, barely crisp air – what a day to run!

Continue reading Happy


Hey, everyone – Runmystic’s gone completely last week!

Odeo, which does for podcasts what Bloglines does for blogs is alpha testing their in-browser recording studio. Cool application, but I couldn’t get it to work without an annoying clicking noise. Drat.

In any case, the “channel” is over here, I’ll drop lines here when content is added there.

Now, off to sleep where I would have been 45 minutes ago if it weren’t for the darned new cool thing.

Stars, crickets, and frogs

Sometimes it’s the tiniest things that can set the world right.

I had a plan tonight. Was going to blow through Mystic on my way back from Newport and put in another half day’s work this evening, stopping to run at Bluff Point. Got held up in Newport for a little longer than planned. Called the wife; she mentioned that the plumber was coming tomorrow to hook up the dishwasher; well, provided the dishwasher was upstairs. Swung by the house, stopped for dinner, and my motivation for heading to Waterford vanished. Decided to take a rest day. Moved the washer back upstairs. Moved the stove to the front door, and was surprised when the neighbor and a friend of his asked if we needed help. The neighbor’s a good guy; it’s just we don’t talk much. I accepted. We got the stove into the living room (electrician isn’t due until Thursday). Showed him around; he was impressed with what we’ve done with the place. Blew off work, bathed the kids, teeth, stories, kisses.

I was taking the trash to the curb when my “Motivation” post really sunk in. Funny how the truth’s locked up in our subconscious. Funny how clearly we can hear the quiet, clear little voice. Even funnier (in the tragic, not the “ha ha” comic way) how frequently we don’t listen to the quiet, clear little voice. I imagine it sounds much like my wife…

It is about the fight. Am I Achilles, nursing petty grievances back among the long, black ships pulled up on the sand? Or am I Diomedes, with the grey veil of perception pulled back, seeing the world as it is? Pulled on my gleaming armour, or, in my case, a certain pair of shiny, blue shoes (and a spiffy, new reflective armband).

And easy as that, life was good.

There’s 2 or 3 streetlights burned out on the 2-lane just down the subdivision street from the house. So there’s about a half-mile stretch, through the woods, that now completely lacks light. Which makes it really, really dark. I ran down the middle of the street, ears tuned, knees bent to better make up for un-even pavement. Up and over the “wall”, the stretch of 30 degree climb just after the first mile. Felt good.

The run in the darkness kind of motivated me. So instead of turning around at about 2 miles, I figured I’d try to loop back to the house.I made a conscious decision to not let my legs run – they felt good and really wanted to keep going, down to River Road, but I had to stifle such talk in favor of execution.

At the top of the hill, about mile 4.5, I started walking. Not out of pain or shortness of breath, but out of a realization that I was a bit turned around, not quite sure where I was. Figured it out. Still walked the half-mile home (RICE, billy. RICE. What rest has your ankle gotten today?)

Took the detour through the forest from the old elementary school to my house. It was beautiful and peaceful there in the woods. But I’d forgotten the extent to which woods go pitch black at night. I navigated by shuffling – as soon as I felt duff underfoot, I adjusted back to the hardpacked trail. Made it down with just a flesh wound. Skipped the road back to the house.

Here’s to tomorrow.


Thanks, everyone, for the comments, thoughts, and encouragement after my rant yesterday. It’s appreciated.

The internet’s a funny beast. Shifts things from finely shaded to black and or white. I’ll admit, I’m struggling. And there wasn’t anything I said yesterday that I wasn’t feeling right then, at that moment.

What was completely not captured, though, was the love of the struggle. The joy in the fight.
Continue reading Motivation


Today – 3.5 easy. Was supposed to be a rest day, but I needed to run. Felt – well, it felt like a run.

RBF, can I be honest here? At this point, I’m completely racked with doubt that I’m going to be able to complete either marathon, let alone both. The pain I’ve had in the left foot has really taken a lot out of me, and the inability to stick to the long run schedule is frustrating me something fierce. The blister is just icing on the freakin’ cake. I’ve got a 20 miler scheduled this weekend; I HAVE to do it or else I might just have to hang it up. But right now I’m really, really feeling low; hating running. I hate the pain, hate the rut, hate the chafing, hate the hunger, hate the random stiffness, hate the restlessness on days I don’t run, and hate the self loathing into which I fall when I don’t run. Hate it hate it hate it. Bleh.

On the plus side – wow. Fall. I love being outside. And I love running in the fall. And, frankly, when I’m actually running, I still kind of like the running.

Four more weeks, Billy. Four more weeks.

I am, however, switching Sundays or Mondays to cycling.


So, dig.

Saturday Morning I wake up, all pumped to hit the road for the 13 miler. Put on the shoes and my left ankle is killing me. Tape the ankle, and that’s OK, but as I’m walking, I’m feeling something rubbing on the blister from my sockless wonder. Hmmmmmmmm….

So I bagged the long run (again) in favor for a couple hours on the bike. In my defense, I did really, really push it. And loved it. Saw a bunch of runners – they all looked miserable. Saw a bunch of smiling cyclists, reveling in the first chill of fall. Did my first 15 miles, then swung down River Road. Was pleasantly surprised at how easy the hills on that road felt, and had a wide crap-eating grin the whole time.

Pulled back into the house about 9, just in time to make the opening at Clyde’s Cider Mill (ASME link). The boys and I snarfed down some cider (mmmm, appley), ate some tasty cinnamon sugar do-nuts while smelling the next batch cooking, and watched the first leaves start to fall. They were pressing cider – pretty darn cool, I need to take pictures of the mill next time. Cool set up – smell of steam, lots of polished wood, and a Prohibition display. Cool.

In any case, I think taking an active day off was a great thing. Sunday morning, there was very little pain the first time I put weight on my left ankle. This morning, not much at all. The blister is still healing – I rubbed it a little more raw than I had though. Cycling didn’t aggravate it, but it’s still tender. Cross training was taking the boys to Family Swim at the Y. Met Jake’s swimming teacher – she recognized Jake, realized Missy wasn’t around, and went out of her way to introduce herself to me and say how much she enjoyed Jake in class.

Hurt this morning still. Don’t they know there’s training on?

Looks like I’m going to take today easy and do 3 or so on the ‘mill this evening – give myself a chance to heal prior to adding stress again.

PS – I blew it off.

Running rule number 1


Late day at the office, but my lovely, long-suffering, and completely together wife is supporting my marathon plans like a trooper. So, I stopped off on Jamestown to knock out today’s 6 miles, ’cause I’m a man, baby, not a mouse. Plus, how could I not? Browsing today showed me that one of my heroes (and you, RBF readers, are all heroes of mine) was once a mortal, too.

To say today was a perfect end to summer* would have been understatement. Unlimited visibility, perfect temperatures, light breeze. One of those days where you can’t hope for much except a winning PowerBall ticket in your pocket.
Continue reading Running rule number 1


So –

Today was one of those days when I’m happy I’m not living on a boat. Windy, choppy, intermittent rain. Bleh. Would spill coffee. Wouldn’t want to get out of bed.

But I did. Went to work. Went to go run after work.

Forgot my shoes.


Best laid plans, and all…

Best Laid Plans

So, if I were operating in strict accordance with schedule for the Mystic Places race, Saturday would have been a 20 miler. However, given recent foot problems, sickness, long runs missed due to travel, and a genetic disposition to cramming, I scaled back my goal for Saturday to 15 miles or so. I’d rescheduled a drill day from last weekend, and Saturday had dawned grey and gnasty, so I decided to roll the dice that the remains of Hurricane Ophelia would miss SE Connecticut, and the sun would come out in the afternoon.

Gamble paid off, and I finished up work about 2:30 or so. Headed down to Copp Family Park with the intentions of running to Bluff Point and back, and adding what I needed to hit 15. I was feeling a little sore from my first completely made week of running in about a month, but the pain quickly left, replaced with the endorphin-covered fuzz that proceeds the Runner’s High.
Continue reading Best Laid Plans