Images

Until now, I've never understood the allure of a camera phone. However, in the past week, I've seen images that I wish I could capture, yet they only remain in the album of my mind. Here's my album:

The trip meter on the car Monday morning. As I pulled into my parking spot at work, the trip meter read 26.2 miles. For some reason it seemed absolutely fantastic that from the gas station home and to work would be the exact mileage of a marathon.

A homeless man with a shopping cart. At work we had a large scale people move for which we rented plastic crates. When crate collection time came, we discovered eight missing crates. I swear that this homeless man, roughly 1.5 miles away from where I work, had three of these crates in his shopping cart. I thought folks at work might get a good "laugh" out of this image.

An elderly couple in a restaurant. Yesterday I had a late lunch at one of my favorite local dives. I like to people watch and noticed an older couple enter the restaurant. When they sat down, I noticed their refreshments were meager and stunning simultaneously. This elderly couple had before them a styrofoam cup and a canned beverage. By elderly, I mean the man was probably over eighty and the woman was not far behind. The canned beverage: Full Throttle. The website for this product does not seem geared towards this particular demographic (http://www.fullthrottleenergy.com/fullthrottle/main.jsprottleenergy.com/fullthrottle/main.jsp) given that the primary motto of the beverage is "let your man out." I imagine that this couple was sufficiently throttled.

Unleashed

One adjustment made in running since our move out to the suburbs has been the vast number of dogs that I encounter. Numerous owners show utter disregard for the law by allowing their canine companions to roam freely about the neighborhood. The dogs I've run across fall into several categories:

The Invisible Threat: During one evening outing, I was flagged down by a man wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and some tennis shoes, so as to expose his ample belly, watering his grass at the street. As I approached him, he flagged me down, asking if I could spare a minute. Being the diligent soul that I am, I had absolutely no desire to stop and talk with this man, nor to have to get anywhere nearer to his protruding naked hairy belly than I had to. As I waddled by him, he said, "I've got a dog, his name is Killer. He's friendly, but he's not on a leash. We just try to keep the undesirable sorts away." This exchange left me questioning whether I was one of these undesirables. However, I concluded that his warning was intended to calm me in the event that Killer and I crossed paths.

The Looming Presence: On a group run on local trails, the group came up on an unleashed Rotweiler jaunting about in the woods beside the trail. Our leader suggested that we grab rocks and sticks. The entire group yelled at the dog and tried to get in back into the woods and away from us.

The All Up in Your Business: I made the mistake of doing my favorite loop course twice one Sunday morning to meet up with a yellow lab who liked to run out in the street, barking furiously. The second time I passed him, I felt his spittle and breath on the back of my flapping thighs. My response was to yell "no" as loud as I could to not only ward off the dog, but also to signal to the stupid owners of said dog that their friend was in the middle of the road, a prime location to be squished, chasing a slow-moving runner.

The Multi-Faceted Attack: During a usual jaunt down weiner dog bend (usually one weiner dog will come flying up from a house and bark my heels), I caught sight of the usual black and tan weiner dog engrossed in yard work with its owner. Once it recognized my presence, it came charging at full weiner speed towards me, barked at my heels, then retreated once called back by its owner. As I rounded the end of the cul-du-sac and headed back, out of tall weeds to my right, another weiner dog, much smaller, but just as fierce, came speeding past, barking, but did not stop to bother me. I think the weiner is still running.

The Hands of a Child: I knew the little dog at the end of the leash tugging and straining was trouble when I ran past. Of course, somehow the dog magically escaped the leash that the child still held in his hand as little dog chased me down a hill, and back as I tried to corral the canine back towards its handler. Only when an older sibling stepped in could I continue my run.

Interestingly enough, all of these canine companions sum up my human interactions in the past few days. I've had a rough time at work, without more than five minutes to spare when there's not some daschund flying at me or Rot roaming about with a menacing look. Rarely do running life and work life combine; but for this instant....

Lite FM

What does it say that I now listen to Lite FM on a regular basis to and from work? Certainly the excuse that the traffic reports are the best isn't good enough. The simple fact is that I actually like the music on Lite FM. This station used to be what my Dad would sing to as we drove around on a Sunday afternoon ("love, soft as an easy chair..."). The songs played on Lite FM remind me of childhood for some reason. Everything reminds me of childhood which makes me wish that I could reverse time and once again lollygag through summers playing with neighborhood friends, going to the putt-putt and eating softserv ice cream coated in a chocolate shell while riding in the back of an old Ford F-150. Adulthood sucks. The time passes more quickly with each passing day; this past week was so busy it passed by within the blink of an eye. To make matters worse, I'm getting old. The gray hairs grow. I'm finding funny veins in my legs. I can't eat buckets of ice cream and not have it show, despite the fact that I exercise. Ugh. I find myself reflecting that drivers on the road are driving too fast and I wonder why everyone is in such a hurry. What happened to the days when I was the one screaming down the road, not listening to Lite FM?

Since time is passing so quickly, I find it utterly unbelievable that I'm over halfway through training for this marathon. I'm not confident in this training, but I never truly am. Last weekend I attempted a 16-miler with some group folks. The first eight went well. The next three were tough, and then I could only make it another 30+ minute before I called it quits. I hate stopping early. Those middle three miles absolutely kicked my butt. We climbed and descended and weaved through trails. Was it the lack of GU or am I just not built for this distance stuff? Should I just give it up after this race and become a casual runner without a schedule, a log, or shoe tracking?