So the stars aligned and L & I were able to coordinate a short vacation, visiting my brother and sister-in-law in Austin. The days we selected just happened to coincide with the Austin City Limits Music Festival, so finding halfway decent prices on plane tickets was less than fun - but it worked out. At the same time, L had never flown before and was a bit nervous about it. Barring any major catastrophes, this would be an interesting experience.

Getting up at 4:30 am on Friday, Oct. 12th in order to fight the morning rush hour to make it to John Glenn International Airport and get through airport screening before our flight was a necessary evil. Though it was, at least, an informative experience. The airport shuttle driver from the parking lot to the terminal waxed about the facility's history as we struggled to keep our eyes open during the predawn hours. Did you know the CMH utilized to identify Columbus' airport stands for: Columbus Metropolitan Hangar? When established in the 1920's, the airport was more known for commercial cargo flights. When the facility evolved, the Federal Aviation Administration issued called letters simply stayed.

Having not experienced flying, or the process of getting on a plane, L was quite keyed up. It was new and different for her, so having to remind her to relax took place a lot. She's a planner and having things not go as planned are not her forte. Of course, a few things didn't go as expected - but weren't detrimental. She was a little off kilter at take off because of the noise and unfamiliar surroundings, but our 75 minute flight to Nashville went off without a hitch.

It didn't help as we were about to land in Music City, the woman sitting to my left sticks her arm in front of L & I and points to the flaps moving on the wing and quips, "Is that supposed to move like that?!" At the window seat, L looks out and then back at me with wide eyes and her jaw dropped opened as if to say, "Are we about to die?!"

Now, I'm obviously not a pilot but I have flown before. I calmly explained why the flaps were moving to the best of my knowledge, calming L down. The woman then follows with, "Oh, okay. That makes sense. This is my first time flying." (Well, no sh*t). Geez woman, it would help to NOT freak people out who are on edge to start with.

Back in good spirits just before touchdown, I tell L, "Remember what it sounded like when we took off? Get ready." Just then we return to Earth, L is jostled and goes through a range of emotions but is in one piece. From here on out, the ride was smooth and uneventful. Her only issue was the first time she utilized the restroom mid-flight, saying that flushing the toilet was "a little terrifying". I had to agree as not everyone is prepared for the sound of the universe being sucked into a black hole while held captive in the upright casket made for humans of less than average size at 10,000 feet.

We enjoyed our four days in Austin, walking everywhere and running & biking around the Zilker Park and Lady Bird Lake areas. Watching the crowds of people going to and coming from Austin City Limits was quite entertaining. We didn't attend, though you could hear the music from my brother's backyard with relative ease. Oh, and Austin is not flat - my legs were given one helluva work out in those few days. Taking Monday off from running was most welcomed.

As you can imagine it was quite hot in Austin. From Friday through Sunday, it was 90 plus degrees, sunny and beautiful - which was awesome. When we left on Monday, it was a different story. The bottom fell out and it may have reached 70 at one point, but it was actually warmer at home in Ohio for a time - and it was cold by our standards. It was like we were found out and The Buckeye State came looking for us, planting itself in the Texas Capitol.

It was also quite enjoyable to fly home surrounded by those who had attended the music festival over the weekend. Most were still wearing their 3-day pass bracelets and looked like death warmed over as they struggled to be coherent, utilizing the drop down trays as makeshift beds. We were tired too, but it was because it was early and the sun had yet to come up - not because we had been awake for three days.

It was cloudy with a storm-filled sky as we flew out of Austin. And we experienced more than our fair share of turbulence, which kept L on pins and needles for a time. She didn't freak out, but was ready to jump out of her skin. Once we made it though the storms, she was able to sleep for a little while. Starving, we ate at our favorite greasy spoon in Delaware - Hamburger Inn - after leaving the airport. At home, we both slept for a few hours. Now a veteran of the skies, L is working on deciphering where the next adventure will take us.

Oh, and we apparently returned home at the right time, this was posted on Tuesday by The Trail Foundation:

EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY: The Ann and Roy Butler Hike-and-Bike Trail is CLOSED.
The Austin Parks and Recreation Department(PARD) is closing the Ann and Roy Butler Hike and Bike trail in conjunction with the Austin Fire Department’s waterway ban and the opening of various Highland Lake dam gates.

Due to heavy rain, large amounts of water are heading towards the Austin’s waterways. Water levels in Lady Bird Lake are expected to increase 2-3 feet over the next couple of hours posing safety hazards along the Trail. Trails may be impacted by water, erosion, and other hazards.

PARD strongly encourages park patrons not use the trail during the closure. Please obey signage and do not go on closed trails. The closure is to help prevent injuries due to high waters and unstable conditions

To say we dodged a bullet would be an understatement - sorry Austin. We didn't get the rain, but we do have barely above freezing temperatures to deal with.

The following weekend came the Nationwide Children's Columbus Marathon and 1/2 Marathon. Running in 30 and 40 degree whether would be a big change from the heat of Austin the week before, but I was hoping the cooler temps would assist in improving my finish from last year. I started out too fast and then a calf muscle I strained days before reignited, causing me to pull up and end with a less than desirable time.

Also, I'm in much better shape at this time than I was in 2017 and a more experience half marathoner. This was just my second attempt at this distance last year, this year - barring any weirdness - would be more of a mind game. Being patient and running my race, not attempting to beat the world.

And several members of the Traffic Panthers Buck Fifty 150 Mile, 24 hour, 10 Person Team Relay squad would be taking part in the marathon and 1/2 marathon, so there would be some familiar faces taking part as well. Awaiting her next 5k, L would be spectating and attempting to keep warm in the wee hours of a chilly October morning.

The half marathon route would be exactly as it was the year before, a stroll around downtown Columbus along Broad Street (aka: historic U.S. Route 40), passing Franklin Park Conservatory and Botanical Gardens, through German Village and Brewery District and finishing in the shadow of The Arena District and North Bank Park. The marathoners and half marathoners start together with those of us running the half splitting off along High Street on the return trip to the downtown area.

A storm front came through Saturday night, dropping temperatures 40 degrees with wind gusts of 30 to 40 mph. The following morning wee leave early enough to park in our regular spot for such events and under the cover of darkness, we walk to the start/finish area. On the way there, attempting to retain the little bit of heat we had in the car, we are moving quickly. We followed a sidewalk under the I-670 overpass and just as we came out on the other side, those in front of us departed the walkway like the retreating Red Sea. Not paying attention as to why they moved, L and I are then splattered with water droplets. Apparently, the automated sprinkler system in the lawn at the business we were passing had not reached it's seasonal end. We then, belatedly, moved off the sidewalk as well and continued to dodge the next few errant sprinklers as we made our way past them. A less then desirable wake-up call it was.

Arrival at the corral on Sunday morning was less than warm at 37 (it was near 60 the day before) degrees and quite breezy. As runners arrived there wasn't anywhere to shield one's self from the wind, but as the start time inched closer and the crowd began to swell, squeezing into the middle of all the humanity helped protect from the light - but piercing - gusts.

With three minutes to go on the countdown clock this event's standard of playing Thunderstruck by AC/DC began and suddenly the blood is pumping, the corral restless and it was cold no more. At triple zero the bang of the gun echoes off the banks of the Scioto River and fireworks illuminate the blanket of clouds occupying the overcast above. I drift the the left, giving myself some running room and avoid the mass of athletes attached to the street's center line like magnets. Telling myself to find a decent pace and not follow the professionals, I push toward being competitive and getting comfortable.

On to Broad Street, I slide behind a group of three - a guy and two females - who are pushing the pace bit but aren't so completely out of my range. I skip the first two refueling stations and run through a personal checklist of how I'm holding up, at this point all is well. We are passed every once in while, but for most part we are holding steady with those in peripheral. I pass L throwing out some encouragement and can only imagine how cold it is for her, standing and cheering in the wind.

Turning right onto Drexel those I'm following get some distance, even still, the few times I have glanced at the running clock I'm at PR pace and I'm feeling good. Turning back onto Broad Street for the return trip, I can still see those I have been following - though they are well ahead. We are passing some later starting marathoners who are making their way down Broad Street on the other side going the opposite direction and at about mile seven I hear, "Craig Simpson is my hero!!", bellowed from that group. I don't look or turn, I just smile. I know already, his voice is a major tell, it's Traffic Panther Teammate Tom (one of the marathoners). Having played nearly every sport with him from elementary through high school, he is hard not to distinguish among the thousands running and cheering. It is a bit of an incline, but I'm maintaining.

Approaching mile eight I can feel fatigue rearing it's ugly head, but we have a decline for next couple of miles. I have lost some speed, but keep my arms and legs pumping. My follow group is long gone, but I'm rarely passed. L finds me, "Keep it up, you are still at 1:25 pace!" I then begin to wonder where Traffic Panther Gary is since I haven't seen or heard from him. I should have seen him by now or he should be passing me soon since I've lost some momentum. Near the same area on mile ten, just north of Schiller Park, where my calf strain returned last year, I can feel my lower back start to tighten up. Struggling to maintain, I focus on form and stride as miles eleven (6:50) and twelve (7:12) are uphill.

Headed north on High Street for the big straight stretch home, my arms and legs are rolling but I'm not getting any faster. The good part is that I'm not being passed like I'm standing still like in 2017. Though I am getting over taken by a handful of men & women and I'm unable to stay with them to block the massive head wind. After mile twelve it is a downhill to the finish, so I let gravity do it's work (mile 13 - 6:33). Annoyed with the knowledge that I have slowed down significantly in the last 5k, I'm hoping I'm completely off of my PR. Coming into the finish I hear my name called as they announce those reaching the summit. I cross the end line, stop my watch and struggle to walk a straight.

Starting my zombie-like walk through the finisher's corral, I glance down to see: 1:27:16. I'm :46 seconds off my my half marathon PR, but I'm ten minutes faster than last year - disappointing, but hard to complain. The finisher's corral leads you to the finisher's photo op in front of giant marathon logo screen and I take part, then it is on to the runner's trick-or-treat. You are given a bag and hit tables of sandwiches, snacks, chips, fruit, drinks, protein bars, crackers...you name it.

By now, the cold has set it. It is maybe 40 degrees, cloudy and windy. My once warm, set drench self is now shivering statue of fatigue. Traffic Panther Gary finds me and we congratulate one another. Fighting through recent injury, Gary finished behind me - but not by far. Traffic Panther Patricia finds us to offer congratulations as well. She attempts to give me her coat - noticing the chill is setting it - and I MAKE her keep her coat on (she wouldn't relent) as I am meeting up with L to garner my own jacket shortly.

Finally meet up with L, I get my jacket and pull the hood over my head and we walk briskly to the car. Once there, we crank up the heat to melt frozen toes, fingers and bones. Here I scarf down half the post race runner's SWAG. At home, we crash and I move off of the sofa when only it is a must watching football in a weary & sore state, but satisfied with how the morning turn out. L went to her city rec softball tournament and they came away with the fall league championship. A decent weekend all around, I must say.

We aren't sure what will happen next, but those holidays are on the horizon and the holiday themed races and events are a dime a dozen. Last year it was a super cold family Thanksgiving morning 5K we took part in. I'm not sure everyone would be up for that again this year because, well, we are a little older and some of us have a bit more of a curmudgeonly attitude toward less than average weather conditions. And here in Ohio "average" can, and will, be all over the place. Sometimes it is an effort to find that once youthful mindset of not caring about such things and it has to forcibly be recalled. Though, when found, the trick is getting it to stick around...

The Revivalists - Wish I Knew You

You shine like a star
You know who you are
You're everything beautiful
She's hot, hot like the sun
The loneliest one
Still everything beautiful
Well I'll be god damned
You're standing at my door
We stayed up in the city
Until the stars lost the war
So Friday night, holy ghost
Take me to your level
Show me the one I need the most
I need the most

I wish I knew you when I was young
We could've got so high
Now we're here it's been so long
Two strangers in the bright lights
Oh I hope you don't mind
We can share my mood yeah
Two strangers in the bright lights
I wish I knew you
I wish I knew you
Oh I wish I knew you when I was young

Truth, it's all that you need
You bury that seed
It's everything beautiful
And that sound comes from the underground
It's all inside you now
It's everything beautiful
But what you, what you, what you, what you running from?
And they got, they got, they got, they got you on the run?
So Friday night
Holy ghost
Take me to your level
Show me the one I need the most
I need the most

I wish I knew you when I was young
We could've got so high
Now we're here it's been so long
Two strangers in the bright lights
Oh and I hope you don't mind
We can share my mood, yeah
Two strangers in the bright lights
I wish I knew you
I wish I knew you
Oh I wish I knew you when I was young

Maybe we can share my mood
Hmm hmm hmm
Maybe we can share my mood
Hmm hmm hmm
Maybe we can share my mood
Hmm hmm hmm

I wish I knew you when I was young
We could've got so high
Now we're here it's been so long
Two strangers in the bright lights
Oh and I hope you don't mind
We can share my mood, yeah
Two strangers in the bright lights
I wish I knew you
I wish I knew you
Oh I wish I knew you when I was young

Sometimes long runs are needed for more than just training. They are used for contemplation, to focus on something other than the present and - now and then - they are a way to avoid dealing with a mess. Last month, without knowing it, a long run helped me avoid swimming in a river of sh*t.

It was Wednesday, August 23rd, and after arriving home from work I had planned my weekly 10+ mile run. I usually do this on Tuesdays, but a work related event the night before forced me to push it back one day. As I headed out, L (who has started running) was going to leave shortly thereafter for a couple of miles. I turn on my Garmin Watch, wait for it to connect (which now seems to take forever) and take off.

For a couple of days our summer weather turned mid-autumn and it was a rather cool late afternoon for August, around 70, which made the run that more enjoyable. As I return - one hour, 15 minutes and 10.20 miles later - I pass our house and see L moving something to our carport. I stop my watch and walk for a quarter mile or so as a cool down, an out and back. As I'm coming back L is headed toward me and once she is within an "I don't need to let the world to know" distance, she says, "Oh, I have story for you!"

She says just after I left, she went back inside and heard a gurgling sound coming from the basement. Upon investigating, she sees a brown liquid emanating from the floor drain. And in the style of The Beverly Hillbillies, "..up through the ground come a bubblin' crude." No it wasn't oil, or black gold, or a tea from any state. It was sewage, brown poop water, a pool of human discharge and within minutes it is encompassing nearly a quarter of our basement. Being a much better manager of things than I, she freaks out - but only for a minute or two. She leaves frantic, yet informative, messages for our landlord. Then starts evacuating everything she can.

We were saved from the fact that the lazy fountain of feces was located away from nearly everything we have in the basement. Utilizing the stairs and our basement door to the backyard, L moved everything worth something to our upstairs front room and/or carport. Our landlord finally returned her call to say an area emergency plumbing company would be swinging by soon. And the representative from that company was all of four houses down from us.

The look on L's face when explaining the awful smell made me want to puke just thinking about it. If I had been there, this easily to queeze stomach of mine would have erupted instantaneously. The plumber arrived and after investigating our indoor spa from hell, said he remembers being called to our place a few years ago for something similar. My thought was, "Dude, we've been here for five months. We are free from persecution."

He had to go next door, the other side of our duplex, to get into their basement where the access to our toilet plumbing is located. Thankfully, we are on good terms with them. After 30 minutes or so of snaking the pipes and testing various forms of water flow, the swamp began to drain. Still sitting on the floor of our front room in my soiled-with-sweat running clothes, L looks at me, "You know, it's late and I don't feel like cooking." I was in complete agreement, so we showered and ordered pizza.

Our landlord had indicated they would have folks come to clean the basement the following day, but L says, "If they don't, would you mind starting the process when you come home tomorrow?" Now, I have yet to enter the basement or even open the door to glance down the basement stairs - so I know not what it looks like or how it smells. I reluctantly said I would, but in hopes of avoiding it, I was praying to god our landlord was the grand champion of keeping promises.

Once home the next day I notice our basement door is still closed. Maybe, because we had it closed, those who were expected to come clean up closed it as well. I crept down the steps gingerly hoping not to see what took place the night before. It was sort of a reverse Christmas morning tiptoe, "Santa didn't leave anything behind, Santa didn't leave anything behind" I keep telling myself in the way Rain Man was enamored with "97X BAAM The future of rock and roll".

Halfway down I slowly turn to the left to look behind the stairs and there it is, a puddle of chunky liquid round the drain with an even larger outer ring of dried pieces of whatnot surrounding the puddle. It didn't smell horribly, but I did open the basement door to the outside and turn on our HVAC's fan in hopes of encouraging the stench outdoors. A mop, bucket of hot water & multi-purpose cleaner, elbow grease, our $10 yard sale find shop-vac and 90 minutes later - our basement was free from the dungeon of discharge and with a nice lemony aroma to boot.

When arriving home, L comes to investigate and apologizes for my having to clean it up - but it had to be done. She notices the shop vac, which is old anyway and louder than an NHRA event (it can be heard several house down, can't imagine why it was in that yard sale we visited a few months ago), and says to me, "We are throwing that thing way, RIGHT?!

"Oh, hell yeah", I reply, "Do you want to go dump it?"
She looks at me like I'v just eaten a live kitten, "Just set it next to the trash, we'll empty it somewhere before Tuesday (trash day)."

I washed, then sanitized, then washed (again) and sanitized (again) my feet before putting on clean, lemony-scent free clothes so we could fulfill our regular Thursday night visit to Staas Brewing. The newly tapped Cinnamon Basil Saison that night hit the spot. The proprietors, Liz & Donald, have become friends of ours - I had never appreciated them more then on this particular day.

Three days later, one of our duplex neighbors finds us outside, "Oh, they (those who work for our landlord) wanted me to let you know that they came by to clean our basements on Friday." Um....what?! So someone did come by to clean the standing lagoon of excrement in our basement, but it was TWO DAYS LATER. Not only that, we were never notified (which is typically the case when they have to enter our house). I don't know why they would think we would let the cesspool of stool linger. Holy crap (yes, I get the irony...shut it!), thanks for the effort! Remind me call you a week after we set the house on fire.

That weekend, L was brave enough to empty the encapsulated bowel movements located in the little shop-vac of horrors while I was out town. It took all she had not to puke. I'm sorry, but I'm glad it wasn't met.

In an effort to make light of our brown colored misfortune, I thought taking part in the Little Brown Jog 5K and Kids Fun Run in our hometown could ease the memory of our visit from St. Excrement. This event coincides with The Little Brown Jug harness race for three-year-old pacing standardbreds hosted by the Delaware County Agricultural Society since 1946 at the Delaware County Fairgrounds. And, also, maybe the logo for the race made my 10 year-old brain think of a giant turd getting a workout, so of course I had to sign-up.

Benefiting People in Need Inc. of Delaware County, the race would take place on Ohio’s famed Little Brown Jug race track, home of the fastest half-mile harness race in America, and helps kick off Delaware's fair month. It didn't hurt either that the race, and fairgrounds, were all of .7 miles from our house and started at noon.

The course would start and end on the race track and wind through the fairgrounds. And you have to love those community races that list these as event highlights: Finishers medals, Kids Fun Run (a lap around the track), Face painting and balloon animals by a local artist, Get your picture taken with a Little Brown Jug race horse, Learn how People in Need is improving the lives of your neighbors and Free parking and refreshments!

Being the first full Saturday of college football, the attendance was expected to be light and it was. If anything, it would be a nice way to stretch the weekend legs. At packet pick-up, the gentleman takes my name, looks up from his computer and gives me a number, "You'll be 1919", then looks at L, "...and Karen?". She looks at me, then back at the official, "Oh, no. It's just him", pointing at me. He apologizes for his mistake and we move on.

We watch the kids fun run and finally get to the starting line. We're told to follow the signs and for added assistance there would be someone at each turn making sure we are going the right direction. We take off and around half of the horse track we go. I have a young kid riding my tail and I feel like I'm going a little fast, but no worries, this is just a fun run. We go off the track and follow a maze of turns around the fairgrounds.

At mile one, I'm at 5:55. The young kid drifts out of earshot, but I hear another coming up behind me. I come up on a water stop and those manning it are watching as the cups are sitting on a table. I try to reach out and grab one, but my perspiration covered hand slides right off of it, knocking a few over in the process. Frustrated, I wave my arm in disgust. Just before the two mile mark (6:08), a high school aged kid passes me. Working on sticking with a good pace, we come upon the backside of the of horse track from whence we came.

Expecting to go around the fairgrounds again, we're directed back onto the track. One of the two race workers seems confused but follows his fellow "turn-pointing person". The kid in front now has a rather large lead as I work my way around the other end of the horse track. I start to wonder why we are headed to the start/finish line and think maybe there's another turn somewhere, but the answer to that is "no". When I could finally read the clock through the sun glare, I'm only at 13-something or other.

Did we go the wrong way?

I cross the finish and I'm greeted with a high five from the kid who finished ahead of me. I grab some water and look at my watch to see 2.24 miles completed in 13:39. That's when I hear L from a distance, "How long was that?" I tell her and she proceeds to relay this information to a few onlookers who are equally confused. The kid who won asks me, "Did we make a wrong turn?" I reply with, "Maybe those directing traffic were wrong."

Though everyone else seems to be either okay with what just happen or are unaware. We hang around for a few minutes and L spots the race director walking by and, "Hi, I'm sorry to bother you, but was the race a little short today?" The woman wasn't perturbed, but seemed a bit annoyed and came off a little snarky, "Yeah, we were under some route restrictions, so we had to shorten it up this morning." She then walks off like everyone shortens races by an entire mile, assumes it wouldn't be a big deal and figures there is no reason to share this information with anyone. What seemed to be an easy fix was something she didn't want to mess with.

It was a small community event with proceeds going to a local charity, so it wasn't a huge deal. I, though, would have enjoyed knowing what was happening. Before leaving I tried plugging in my bib number into the results computer and nothing came up. Figuring they haven't been uploaded, L and I then strolled home and flipped on the television to join the rest of the sports loving world in watching college football. As we are lounging around, I grab my phone to look up the race results and...I don't see my name or finish time - I some how did not exist at this event.

Thinking back to packet pick-up, the folks at the table were manually inputting bib numbers as they were being handed out. When the gentleman thought L was "Karen", he apparently backed out of the number input window on his computer after catching his mistake and never saved my information. I preregistered, appeared on the race entry list, received my race swag bag and ran the not-quite-5K - but that's about the extent of my involvement according to the results.

It wasn't something to be overly concerned about, just annoying. It was a hot, muggy, long September weekend and had more pressing things to do. We took it all in stride, despite the goofiness.

Next weekend, it is the Amish Country Half Marathon for me and the 5K portion of that event for L. This will be a telling event for both us: can I sustain progress on a course that isn't flat? Will L regret her decision to start running and take out her frustration on me? Will we melt now that the sweltering late summer weather has arrived? We shall see, there's no turning back now, so...way down we go.......

Kaleo - Way Down We Go

Father tell me, we get what we deserve
Oh we get what we deserve

And way down we go
Way down we go
Say way down we go
Way down we go

You let your feet run wild
Time has come as we all oh, go down
Yeah but for the fall oh, my
Do you dare to look him right in the eyes?

'Cause they will run you down, down til the dark
Yes and they will run you down, down til you fall
And they will run you down, down til you go
Yeah so you can't crawl no more

And way down we go
Way down…

Last year when it came time for the autumn equinox, someone forgot to wake up fall or summer was just having to much fun to leave. You could hardly blame it - I met L, spent a week in Costa Rica and broke the seal on the half marathon (and melted in the 90-plus degree heat in Celina).

This year, fall wasted no time. The 2018 autumn equinox landed on Saturday, Sept. 22. The three days before we had high temperatures of 88, 88 and 90. On this day, we had a high of 70 (the jury is still out on whether we actually hit 70) with the preceding days struggling to equal that mark.

The football weekend felt like you would expect a football weekend to be like. It was just weird at how much the weather transitioned in a 12 hour period. A monsoon of rain, wind, thunder and lightning hit us at rush hour on Friday and similar to the aliens in the War of the Worlds film, fall forced itself upon us by Saturday afternoon.

No one is complaining, its just interesting how summer was shoved out the door and told not to come back for eight months...in a nice way, of course (just ignore the image of the footprint on it's backside). It has been lovely to run in the recently arrived mild weather. I for one enjoy running in the cooler weather and the rain. It reminds of those bygone days of high school and collegiate cross country.

Having just completed her first race since joining the running crowd, L has been all-systems-go regarding getting faster, adding miles and exploring event possibilities. Being an outdoorsy person, animal lover and avid bird watcher, she was excited to throw our hats into the ring regarding the Red Tail Run 5K and Walk for Wildlife at the Ohio Wildlife Center in nearby Powell.

This race in the Shawnee Hills area of NW Columbus supports the nearly 5,000 animals from 145 different species admitted to Ohio Wildlife Center’s free hospital each year. The goal is to treat these animals and get them back to the wild. All race proceeds, "are directed back to Ohio Wildlife Centers non-profit mission of fostering awareness and appreciation of Ohio’s native wildlife through rehabilitation, education and wildlife health studies."

As you can see, this race - and those it would benefit - are right up her alley. And it would be a change of pace for us. Instead of L following me and joining in on my suggested quests, we would reverse rolls. This did land on a weekend I was scheduled to work, but with it having a 9am start and my Sunday work day not beginning till 12:45. We could squeeze it in, especially since it would be just 12 miles (20 minutes) from our house.

Another added fun benefit would come after the race. According to race details, "Once finished, racers can witness the release of a recovered wildlife hospital patient back to the wild and visit with resident hawks, owls, coyotes, foxes and other education ambassadors at our Powell center." It would be nice spending a fall morning running a quick 5k.

The Tuesday before, I noticed some soreness around my right heel but it dissipated as the day went on. Then Wednesday morning the same pain returned but was more pronounced. Annoyed, I look into it and discovered Plantar Fasciitis had developed. This was obvious when the "morning hobble" set in, or your foot trying to heal itself in a contracted position overnight. Taking that first step out of bed causes sudden strain on the bottom of your foot, resulting in pain in your heel or arch and I felt it to the full extent.

I ran about six miles the prior afternoon without issue, but the pain recurs after long spells of sitting. Of course, it fades during a run or once you are consistently moving again - but it is quite frustrating.

The condition is caused by drastic or sudden increases in mileage, poor foot structure, and/or inappropriate running shoes which can overload the plantar fascia (the connective tissue that runs from your heel to the base of your toes), resulting in heel pain. Since the first three on that list I can safely rule out, I'm guessing it has to do with my shoes. I bought them at the end of May, just before the New Moon Half & Quarter Marathon, Crescent Moon 5K, and they are starting to show some wear. Doing the math, I have put about 500 miles on them (give or take 5 miles or so) - which is a standard for when to put shoes to rest.

This does not mean you have to stop running, you just have to treat it with things like stretching, icing, arch support, foot taping, wearing a night splint and taking anti-inflammatories. If treated right, it shouldn't persist. At the moment its just annoying, like the calf strain I developed about this time last year. I purchased an arch support brace and have been wearing it since and it has helped immensely. And icing the area after each run has put a stop to the awful morning hobble.

I never had these issues back in the day, but then gain I wasn't in my 40's then either. Come on body, try to keep up with the mind!

Our route would begin at Ohio Wildlife Center's service driveway, and then right onto Cook Road, and then the next 3 available left-hand turns onto Merchant Road, Concord Road, and back to Cook Road and finishing at 6131 Cook Road, in the same location as the start line.

It was a partly cloudy, bright, cool Autumn morning. The kind where you don long sleeves but just before it feels too warm, the cool air reminds you why you avoided the t-shirt and shorts. I wore tights in order to avoid cramping and to protect some still-recovering lower half muscle tissue.

I position myself in front and L works her way into the middle of the pack of the corral. Warming up, I notice at least one dude who looked like he would wipe the floor with me which would be a good thing. Having someone in front would be a great way to work on half marathon pacing. Sure enough, as we take off he darts in front and I follow just enough to keep myself in line.

The beautiful sunrise and cool fall breeze along the country roads made it easy to get comfortable. As the gazelle in front drifts further away, I push my stride to work on maintaining a relatively fast pace. It was a race, but great real time practice for future endeavors. The rolling hills were a fun roller coaster ride and the openness of the topography allowed me to keep the dude in front within sight.

He distanced himself quite a bit and I had no intentions of trying to close the gap, but it did feel great to stretch the legs and keep them rolling for the 3 1/4 miles (it was a 5k race, but my Garmin Watch claimed it was just a bit longer). Turning the final corner and back into the Ohio Wildlife Center, I cross the finish and stop my watch at 19:54 with a chip time of 19:51. This is about the time I figured out as to why my time didn't seem to correlate with how I thought I was running, as the miles covered portion on my watch displayed 3.25. The second place finish with splits of 5:56, 6:15 and 6:09 were more than satisfying.

Downing some water, I garnered my finisher's medal and hung out at the finish line - high-fiving others as they come in and waiting for L. Making my way back up to the road, I glance down and see L on the horizon, she's looking pretty smooth and I cheer her on as she, too, reaches the end. Meeting up with her, she looks perplexed. Fighting through winded breathing, "That wasn't a 5k, it was further...wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was 3 and a quarter."

"I was gonna say," she states, "I didn't think my watch was that off far off. Still, that's 30 seconds faster than my time at the Amish Country 5k!"

Actually, it was 34 seconds faster despite being .15 of a mile further and she placed 20th overall - not too shabby. We scarfed down coffee, donuts and bagels while browsing some of the rescued birds and raptures who are permanent residents at the center.

The highlight was watching a Red-Tailed Hawk be released back into the wild after completing rehabilitation. The carrier it was in was opened, allowing for it to take off on it's own but instead just sat there for about five minutes. When officials attempted to coax it on, the rapture turned toward them and spread it's giant wings as if to say, "Chill out man! I'm taking my time, back off humans!" Maybe it needed to time to reflect. Moments later it spread it's wings again, but this time it lifted off the ground and soared into some trees before disappearing in the morning horizon. It was quite a sight to see.

We hopped back in the car and drove the 20 minutes or so home where I then made myself look appropriate and headed off to work. As for L, she dug into some homework before heading off to play softball with our neighbor's city rec team.

It is now officially October - the time of year for Halloween, trick-or-treat, fall foliage and college football conference games, not to mention the Nationwide Children's Hospital Columbus Marathon & 1/2 Marathon is just three weeks away. The leaves are changing and pumpkin spice everything is coming out of the woodwork...whether you like it or not, it's only right....

Wallows - It's Only Right

New ways to spend all my time
Some's gone and some doesn't feel right
I need a notice to stay and I don't think I'm gonna find it

You say you want, but never will
Just take it back and tell me no
It's easier to be alone, than to be lied to

Why'd you waste all the time
Back and forth in my mind
Clean it out, tell me now
Was it worth all the time?
You're not here, with me dear
Can we go, through the years?
Take you there, every night
Say that it's only right

White noise that plays in my head
Tried to recall the words you said
Can you sink into my dreams?
And then I'll never wanna wake up

I hear you talk, when you're not there
It comes at me from everywhere
Can you lose the rest of me
And take my mind away?

Why'd you waste all the time
Back and forth in my mind
Clean it out, tell me now
Was it worth all the time?
You're not here, with me dear
Can we go, through the years?
Take you there, every night
Say that it's only right

I'm wide awake, it feels like all the time
I need to know if it'll be alright
I'm waiting on another day to fall
When you're awake to hear my call
'Cause it's...
I'm wide awake, it feels like all the time
(Open, my door is open)
I need to know if it'll be alright
(Please let me know when)
I'm waiting on another day to fall
(You're coming home)
When you're awake to hear my call

Why'd you waste all the time
Back and forth in my mind
Clean it out, tell me now
Was it worth all the time?
You're not here, with me dear
Can we go, through the years?
Take you there, every night

Say that it's only right

A bit more than a year ago I happened to come across BibRave - an online community connecting runners with the best races. This is a place where runners write reviews for races, detailing all things from race scenery and race management to post race SWAG - a way for folks to determine whether they want to take part in those events. The organization has a Twitter feed that holds a Bibchat, a running related Q & A, which takes place weekly. During the months when it gets dark at 4:30pm, this was a way to keep me occupied for an hour or so.

BibRave's race reviewers (called BibRave Pros) follow a standard of giving actual informative race details. I put my race reviews (like this one here) on Bibrave as well, but as you may have noticed my race details are less informative and more entertainment. I don't describe race t-shirts or event management, I detail being targeted by a race hijacker dressed as Captain America and plowing little girls into puddles of water because they wandered onto a race course with 50 meters to go in a half marathon. You know...the fun stuff.

I figured, for the most part, my reviews were generally ignored because it was just about me being an idiot and avoiding massive injury. Then, near the end of July, I get this direct message on twitter:

"Hey Craig! We were having a moment in BibRave HQ for how awesome your reviews are. We’d love to send you an orange package with some fun BibRave gear! Can you send us your size. Preference for a tank or tee. And pref for a visor, trucker hat, or circle style hat? Thanks for being such an awesome reviewer!!"

Be still my beating heart, conjuring up my inner Sally Field - you like me, right now, you like me! It is nice to know my so-called "reviews" are appreciated for what they are...sources of entertainment in the style of The Office. I did select the Bibrave gear offered to me and in less than a week, it arrived in the promised orange package. When I came home from work, like a kid on Christmas, I ripped open the package, put on it's contents, laced up my running shoes and took off to proudly show off my new threads. Gallivanting around Delaware looking like a sponsored athlete of some kind, I received some odd looks from those taking part in the IRONMAN 70.3 Ohio Triathlon around town that weekend, "Does he know it doesn't start till tomorrow?"

Thanks Bibrave, and to be clear, my reviews aren't an attempt to make fun of those who write REAL race reviews. I'm just an idiot, truly.

With the Amish Country Half Marathon slated for September, I couldn't go without something to focus on for August. Thus, the Blazin' 5 Miler: A Southeast Scorcher seemed to fit the mold of not being super short, or crazy long and a little different. How different, you might ask?

The last five mile race I took part in would have been my final collegiate cross country race for Morehead State on October 13th, 1996 at Eastern Kentucky University. I wrote about this experience on my first blog post ever on March 20th of 2008 (Wow, this thing has been going on for ten years!?). On a random web search, I found stats and finish times for Morehead State that season. It is fun to reminisce and see some names on there I haven't seen (or heard from) in years.

At this race I had my right foot stepped on from behind, pulling my spikes halfway off. It was off far enough that you couldn't just slide your foot back in and since I was doing well I didn't want to stop to put the shoe back on. My conclusion was to kick the shoe completely off (and into a tree we ran under in hopes of not pegging anyone - spectators or competitors - with my flying spikes) and finish the remaining 4-ish miles with one shoe. Flipping my foot forward as if attempting to punish a soccer ball, I add some English with a flick of my ankle to force my metal spike laden footwear into some branches above. Not hearing any screams or audible distress wailing, I assumed the shoe avoided all human contact and continued on with the crowd of collegiate harriers.

Little did I know, when my foot was stepped on - the opposing spikes not only went through my shoe, but also about a quarter of an inch into the back of my heel. The last half mile was painful as dirt and sweat infiltrated the bloody gash, though I finished 29th (27:13 as our sixth man) and we won the event (defeating Virginia Tech and others).

I remember afterwards, as I sat on the ground staring at my bloody sock with a hole in it and my foot - also bloodied with a hole it - a teammate arrives with my orphaned shoe in hand. And what do you know, it wasn't bloody, but...yes...it, too, had what looked to be an incision made by a preoccupied surgeon in the heel area.

With that, my heel became infected and ended my season. I missed a race at the University of Cincinnati, our conference (Ohio Valley Conference) meet at Tennessee-Martin and the NCAA Regionals at Furman University.

A huge disappointment for me, considering I was a walk-on and had become part of our seven member first team. The amount of work I had put it in for three years at that level (The mountain bike trails of the Appalachian Foothills of Eastern Kentucky, our training ground, can be a b*tch) seemed to be all for not. It hit me hard and I ended up wallowing in it, losing interest and eventually quite the team (and running) a couple of months later - the spring of my junior year during indoor track season.

I never did find out who the foot stabber was, though I am proud I didn't "Neymar it" - which is the major reason why I'm only a casual soccer fan. I was there to compete, not bellyache to gain an advantage.

Fast forward 22 years later - the Blazin' 5 Miler would be an out and back jaunt starting at the Jerry L. Garver YMCA in Canal Winchester and then a left onto Long Street which runs directly into the Blacklick Creek Trail, which winds along the Blacklick Creek from Reynoldsburg to Groveport. We would follow the trail past Portman Park and to the right, crossing both Gender Road & Brice Road, before making the turnaround at a roundabout portion of the path at the 2 1/2 mile mark - flat and fast(?).

Traffic Panther Teammate Gary, who lives relatively close, joined in this venture - but not in the capacity he would have liked. You see Gary attended the Lancaster BrewFest the night before and didn't go to bed till about 2:30 that morning. So, the 8am start time came much quicker than he would have liked with the amount of Ohio beer he consumed Saturday night. "I'm just hoping not to puke," he says through tired weary eyes.

The field is loaded with familiar faces, faces I'm used to seeing finish ahead of me. My thought was if I could tag along with a group of them, or just one of them, I might be able to keep a faster, more consistent pace. Lined up and ready to roll on this moderately warm, hazy August morning we are finally given the green light and head off. The handful of MUCH faster folks do their thing and I try to not keep up, but rather sit in pace among the secondary group which begins thinning just as we hit the paved trail.

One of those familiar faces, Seth, moves forward at a pace I'm more used to and I tag along. A half mile in and we are on the rolling terrain of the metro park thoroughfare and we pass L throwing out some encouragement. The footsteps behind go silent and we can see a couple of those who are a good distance in front of us. We are trucking along at a decent pace, but not one that feels uncomfortable. He drifts out in front a bit and I sit behind this left shoulder and when the trail drifts to the left, we alternate positions. A cat & mouse thing is taking place and at mile one we're at 5:55. It is faster, but not too fast.

He tends to drift in front by a step or two, but I'm feeling good and continue to tailgate. The trail does have a center yellow line painted on to indicate that it is a well used multi-use trail, so we had to keep an eye out for the general public who may be utilizing it that morning. Luckily, the only folks I remember passing from the opposite direction were a couple of gentleman on recumbent bicycles at around mile two. The second split is 6:02 and we are cruising along as the faster folks are now coming back through.

On a slight downhill I move in front and encounter the roundabout at 2 1/2 miles. Seth falls behind as we navigate the turn, but once we begin the return trip he comes back to take the lead with me still riding his shadow. The path back has a bit more incline, not much - but enough to force you to adjust your form to keep pace. Crossing under a road underpass a second time and mile three is 6:06. A little slower, yes, but I will take any split that's off by just a handful of seconds. There is only one other runner I can see up ahead and we will not be catching him.

Seth drifts further ahead, I increase my stride in an effort to keep him from getting too far away. Unfortunately, this was very short lived. Slowly, but surely, the distance between us builds. My legs and arms, I feel, are still pumping away as they were, but I'm not making up ground. At mile four my split is 6:08, Seth has a big lead but I continue to use him to maintain pace. At a half mile to go, I can hear footsteps again as I pass L a second time.

With about 100 meters to go, the footsteps I heard moments before pass me and we cross the finish. We are handed a bottle of water, our finisher's medal and a race logoed towel soaked in ice water - which was welcomed. My last mile was 6:09 and my race chip time is 30:18, good enough for 8th overall and 3rd in the 40-44 age group. I didn't have an exact goal for a finish time, but was ecstatic with 30:18. Seth ended up 6th at 29:56, while the footsteps that passed me at the end finished just a second ahead. I was a bit jealous of Seth being under the 30 minute mark and maybe a little disappointed at how close I came to it. It has been two decades since my last visit to a sub 30 minute five miles, but there will be other opportunities.

Traffic Panther Gary finished 11th at 31:59. Despite his lack of sleep and excessive "carb-loading" the night before, he did quite well. I think he was happy with using the race as a training run. Though, he didn't look like his normal Craig-beating self. And he didn't stay long afterwards, "I gotta go read some scripture", he said as it was Sunday morning. My third place age group finish garnered a reward in the form of a cool Blazin' 5 Miler water bottle.

The results were quite interesting as of the 172 entrants, the top five were 20-somethings - including your winner with a time of 25:25. The next seven finishers were all 40 year-olds. We may be a step behind, but don't sleep on us!

Before heading home, L and I drove to nearby Westerville (the location of the 4th of July 5K) and utilized our free breakfast cards we received from Northstar Cafe at that time. I, again, scarfed down some Prosciutto Toast & Eggs...free food always tastes better. Barring any impromptu sign ups, the half marathon is set for next month and Lauren B. will running the 5K portion of this event - she has been hard at work putting in miles.

It has now been a full two years since I started running again and I can see improvement in regards to times and pacing, no matter what distance I run which is super cool. Though, the improvement - over time - is coming much slower than it did when I was a 20 something. So I'm running twice as much to progress at a lesser rate...damn...time is a fickle beast, isn't it... ;)

Can't Run Forever -HEMBREE

I stand here, dressed in my devotion
Trying to rule my world
But if I drift out deep into the ocean
Am I the fallen thoughts

I can't run forever
I can't run forever

We watch them bad girls
Walking with their eyes closed
Open, they break them more
When that I swallow
All of my own pride, girl
Am I the typical?

I can't run forever, I can't run forever
I can't run forever, I can't run forever

I stand here, dressed in my devotion
Trying to rule my world
But if I drift out deep into the ocean
Am I the fallen thoughts

I can't run forever, I can't run forever
I can't run forever, I can't run forever
I can't run forever, I can't run forever
I can't run forever, I can't run forever

Are we folding or are we just resorting
To what we know is better?
Are we folding or are we just resorting
To what we know is better?

Are we folding or are we just resorting
To what we know is better?
And it was better before

It has only been a little over three months since we moved to Delaware, though it seems like we have been there much longer. I guess that's what a home should feel like...like a home. We seem to fit into place with our surroundings, our neighbors and the super friendly stray cat that has lingered around for the last six weeks or so.

You may remember Scrabble Cat, he showed up one night out of the blue mingling with us and our friends like he had been there for years. In a short time, he became common place. Following us around the yard, sleeping in our lawn chairs in the carport, waiting outside our door in the morning and even sprawled out on our front step as we came home from work. We, in a sense, had an outside dog in the form of a cat - with no idea where he had come from. Our two indoor cats, Whiskey & Jameson, had even gotten used to greeting Scrabble and conversing through our window screens - like visiting an incarcerated friend, with the exception of not having to utilize a telephone receiver in order to chat through the two inch thick pane of glass separating you.

The cat who chased moths & flies, and left us presents of dead birds on our patio came and went daily. We could always tell when he had been by as there would be giant dent in the food we left for him. On Thursday, July 6th, I came home from work to have that cat waiting for me as I pulled in and on Friday - I was off - it followed me around all day as I messed around the yard.

Later that afternoon, I headed out to grab a few beers and hangout with some friends at Barley Hopsters. As I was walking down the street, the cat followed me. Figuring it would stop soon, I kept going, but so did Scrabble Cat. Not wanting him to get crunched by a passing car, I picked him up and walked back to our yard. Thinking I was playing, I chase him a little then headed on my way again. The cat continued to follow, but only to the alley down from our place.

I turned the corner and watched as it just sat at the alley entrance, watching me. It wasn't going anywhere, just observing me head off as I continued on and disappeared down the street. The next morning I noticed the food we leave out for him hadn't been disturbed and the rest of the day went by without a sign of scrabble cat. The weekend came and went, then by midweek - still no sign of him.

Thinking it was just me, L asked one day if I had seen him and upon telling her I hadn't, she replied, "Oh, that makes me sad. I kind of miss him." Its weird how small, familiar nuances become common place and get mixed in the shuffle, but then become a glaring void when they just aren't there any more. I run the streets of our neighborhood daily and hadn't seen him or - thankfully - his remains along any street. We were guessing (hoping) since he was super friendly and playful, he had become someone's new pet or maybe he found his way home or...he's just a loner...coming and going as he sees fit to fill whatever void needs filled.

Surprisingly, the latter seemed to have been the answer. This past Thursday, walking back from an evening in downtown Delaware, L suddenly points out, "Is that him!?" A smallish, black cat was hanging out on the front steps of a house about two block from our place. When called, the cat came up to us and yes...it was Scrabble Cat. I don't believe it belonged to the folks at this house either as there was a food and water bowl sitting outside of the front door off to the side, a familiar scene which had been taking place at our house for over a month. The cat greeted us, then sauntered back onto the porch and dug into some free food.

It was nice to know the cat was just making it's way around and not in some sort of distress. Maybe it knew something we didn't, kinda of like the Rex O'Herlihan character from Rustlers' Rhapsody. He's the only character aware of the plot outline and explains that he "knows the future" inasmuch as "these Western towns are all the same" and that it's his "karma" to "ride into a town, help the good guys, who are usually poor for some reason, against the bad guys, who are usually rich for some reason, and ride out again. Though, I doubt Scrabble Cat's knowledge is also connected to an unspecified "root" vegetable he digs up and eats - but I could be wrong.

Nevertheless, we found a new city, a new home, new neighbors and a new four-legged visitor in the last few months that helped us through a rather large transition - thanks fur ball for helping to make the change easy and enjoyable. Funny, that night I thought it would be cool if it would stop by and leave us a small vermin carcass now and then just to let us know it's doing okay. And, no lie, Friday morning L sent me a picture of a dead brown bat in our drive way. Thanks SC, our lawn chairs will always have you name on them.

Speaking of new, when is the last time you ran a mile - not just for time - but for competition? For me, I think the last 1500 I ran was in college in 1996 (the 800 was my forte), but high school would have been my last competitive mile (1994). Yeah, it has been a few years. Running a mile race isn't new, though it is familiar. I would say our relationship has been rather stale - like running into someone you hung out with 20 years ago who doesn't remember your last name and can only recollect that your first name starts with a "C"... or was it an "F"? But, yeah, great seeing you!

Wanting to try my hand to go all out and attempt to break the 5:00 minute barrier would come in the form of the Columbus Running Company Mile Dash, CRC's annual anniversary celebration. I would take part in their 14th anniversary Elite Mile Race. Sounds like a big time thing for me, but "Elite" in this case refers to those who can run a mile in under 6:00. Not an easy thing to do for many people, but something I can do with relative ease.

If memory serves, my best mile in high school was 4:41. I doubt I will be reaching that anytime soon, but it would be fun to see how close I could get. Here we would start on Liggett Road before turning on Perimeter Drive and finish back at CRC's Dublin location in Avery Square - a flat, fast course. I can get in a 5:30 mile by myself, but running with a group of folks who have a faster pace and are more used to running a sub five mile would be of great assistance.

This, of course, would require being prepared for the all out effort in order to complete this mission and not crash somewhere in the middle. I would be joining Traffic Panther Teammate Gary in this quest. Last year, Gary was just short of that elusive 5-minute mark. Maybe this year, a team effort could push the both of us over the top.

The race may have started at 5 p.m., but there was no relief as it was blue sky, no shade and full sun releasing it's full 90 degree strength upon us. It was nice to know we were running only one mile, but being tagged with bib #1 didn't help curb the few butterflies fluttering away in my mind. We had a large mix of adults and teens and at the gun I had to remind myself there would be no time to cruise, it had to be all out.

About 15 yards in, one of those teens - wanting to get by some folks - cuts directly in front of me, clipping my right foot. Luckily I caught myself and didn't crash to the ground. He did have enough wherewithal to glance back and offer an apology, but holy crap man...this is happening in every race now! At least he wasn't dressed in some stupid superhero costume like the July 4th race. In a group of guys around my age (with Gary), we are passing folks and are trailing a significant group who will soon be getting further ahead.

We turn onto Perimeter Drive and the crowd begins to spread apart. Hanging behind a couple of teens and Gary surges ahead, I follow and with a quick glance ahead the finish is in full focus. My legs are now rubber, my stride is as far as it can reach and my arms are pumping - pushing as much as I can muster. I'm able to glide by a couple high school kids, but Gary has a bit more left than I. The clock is in full focus and it's at 4:50, but I'm a little too far out to able be to break five minutes.

We pick off a couple more high school kids and through the finish we go. Sucking air and melting in the humidity, I glance at my watch: 5:04.05. Armed with bottles of water, L finds me and offers a congratulatory hug. A little disappointed to have been so close to breaking five minutes, but I'm still pumped at hacking off more than 30 seconds off of my best return to running mile. I then begin to wonder how I was able to do such things years ago. Funny, though, this was the same day - two years ago - when I was prompted to start running again, so not too shabby I guess.

Officially, my time was 5:05 - good enough for 37th overall (out of 131)and 6th in my age group. Unfortunately, Gary was also a little short of the sub five minute goal. At 5:02, he took 34th overall and 4th in the age group. The winner annihilated everyone with a 4:15, a full four seconds ahead of second place. It would be super cool to eventually break the five minute barrier, but there aren't exactly tons of one mile races out there. Somewhere down the road, we will try again.

L & I and Gary & his family when out to eat and grab a few beers afterwards at Smokehouse Brewing. Afterwards, L & I went to nearby Sideswipe Brewing for an additional flight before heading home. I'm not trying to reverse the clock or go back to what once was, I just want to reach a plateau that had been long forgotten and say "hello" one more time. Oh, and this week is the one year anniversary of my trip to Las Catalinas, Guanacaste, Costa Rica - those damn Facebook memories are killing me. As you can imagine, Central Ohio is not the same.

I'm not sure what the rest of July or August will look like, other than sweating and coaxing our garden to produce some actual fruit from the rainforest of vegetation that has taken over our backyard. I can say, though, that I will be taking part in the Amish Country Half Marathon in September. It is a rather hilly course in Ohio's Amish Country (video), but the SWAG is quite impressive:

* Long-sleeved tech running shirt to all runners registered
* Deliciously Prepared Amish Country Hot Buttered Noodles & Much More when You Finish the Race
* A Taste-of-Amish-Country box (jam, homemade bread, noodles, cheese, fry pie, etc)
* Prizes will be awarded to top 3 finishers in each age group.
* Top 3 Finishers in the both the Men’s & Women’s Divisions in the Half Marathon Win Prize Money

And L, who has started running herself, signed up for the 5K portion of the event - a team effort all around.

For those who prefer to be the loner and fly by the seat of your pants, I applaud you for your capacity to be your own person and the ability to "be" in the realm of solitude. I know you are well aware, but just in case, if ever you crave human interaction or just simply need a helping hand - there are many of us out there ready and willing to offer assistance without expectation....

LUCERO - FOR THE LONELY ONES

Counted out
Out here with the lonely ones
Seeing how
We ain’t been the only ones
We ain’t been the only ones
Down and out

Fell in love
It felt just like a broken heart
So easy just to fall apart
Fell in love

Come on baby dance with me
They’re playing for the lonely ones

Close enough
Close enough to see the sparks
Close enough to leave a mark
Fell in Love

Come on baby dance with me
They’re playing for the lonely ones

Fell in Love

Fell in Love