Last weekend I went for a 15 mile run in preparation for the Maui Marathon. Knowing I would need some liquid refreshment (and I don't mean beer) along the way and not having a portable means of hydration I knew it was incumbent upon me to plant some water bottles. I mapped my route, and then left early in the morning to surreptiously stick my water in an unobtrusive place.
I found my first location just fine, in a tidy little shaded spot beneath the sign of a business about 7 miles into the run. Continuing on my route I went into a neighborhood - and got so incredibly miserably lost I almost ran out of gas. True story. When I left the house I had about 2 miles on the tripmeter, plus the 15 for the run, maybe add a mile or two for scouting. I should have returned home with no more than 19 miles. I'll tell you the odometer reading shortly! As I drove I realized Google Maps had not done the route justice. I ended up winding through neighborhoods, ending up at one dead end after another. As I drove hither and yonder I saw a guy running and wondered if he was running on the route I had chosen. I didn't want to follow him directly like I was stalking him, so I decided to drive around a bit and stealthily observe his route. Around I went, again becoming utterly lost. Then, I spotted him. He gave me this strange look, while I nonchalantly pretended that I'd never seen him before. Eventually I figured out where I was, planted a second bottle and made my way home. With 43 miles on the odometer!
Barking up the Wrong Tree
I occasionally (ok maybe once a day) let my ego get the better of me. Earlier this summer I had been cycling and had some high school girls holler at me. Now I'll confess that I didn't really hear what they said. They might have yelled something like "hey slugbait, speed it up old man!". What I heard was "wow! you go, hottie". So back to the present - I'm cruising down Bonita, feeling good, striding out - the world is my oyster. Hearing some high pitched screams as a car began to pass me I just chuckled - yeah, more fans. Girls follow me everywhere now. As the car passed I glanced over to see a Pomeranian in the back seat of the car bouncing up and down and yapping away. Maybe I'm not that much of a hottie after all.
Crossing Guard Squirrel
A few weeks ago as I was running south on lower Boone's Ferry Road I rounded a corner as the bike lane narrowed, forcing me to run very close to some blackberry bushes on the shoulder. Suddenly, very close and startling me a squirrel came right into view on a limb from a small tree directly to my right, and literally 3-4 feet away. Seriously, it was that close. The limb was slightly in my way and I was going to just lift it with my arm as I passed underneath. I think we were both freaked out. As the squirrel reversed direction and ran back to the trunk, it was apparent that his weight was holding the limb in the horizontal position and as he scooted back the limb went vertical. It was just like a crossing guard lifting the gate! Doesn't take much to amuse me does it?
Meeting Jose
I have a new friend! As I was running along minding my own business out of the corner of my eye I spotted a guy pull in behind me. Naturally, I started running a little faster. Naturally, so did he. It is the nature of runners to be competitive I suppose! I picked up the pace to a point where it seemed I could keep him at bay. But I noticed that every time I would speed up, so would he. After two miles of this rather than throw down I decided to slow down. I was about 6 miles into a 13 miler and knew if I tried to keep the pace I'd burn out badly the rest of the run. I slowed down to allow him to catch up, which he did and we started to chat. Jose is a nice guy and a cyclist and triathlete too so we had some great conversation. Turned out he used to work with my next door neighbor! I was hoping he would be able to be on our Hood to Coast team, but schedules prohibited that. Jose altered his route to run with me another four miles, and we had a nice chat and agreed to meet up for some more training here and there.
I saw the light, I saw the light...
Yesterday I did a 17 mile run. Lest you be too impressed, let me reassure you that it just about killed me. The last 2 miles were torture, and I had mapped it to give me about a half mile cool down walk to get home. Let me tell you, when I reached 17 I didn't know if I could make it the next half mile to get home! Seriously, that's the state of fatigue I was in. My run ended in a little industrial park on a quiet street (during the weekends) and has some nice landscaping. I found a shady spot and flopped down on the grass. I laid there for a while and just looked up at the sky and clouds. I imagined I saw a horsie, a doggie and the devastation of Jerusalem in the year 70 A.D. by the Romans under the command of Titus. And then I saw a rabbit.
As my mind wandered I realized I was underneath a street light. And on the bottom of the light as it faced down to the street there was a number '10' on it. Interesting, I thought - I wonder if they are numbered ascending as I go north, or descending? Imagine my surprise when I got to the next light and it was also numbered 10! Turning onto Bonita, I continued to look up and now they were numbered 20! One after the other. Rather than being fixated by street light numbering schemes, I'm just going to believe that on a less busy street they have a number 10 bulb in them, and on busy streets they have a number 20 bulb. Life is just easier that way.
Radar Love
Last Tuesday I went for a run and rounded a corner right into the beam of one of those radar trailers. Let my email to Chief Bill Dickinson recount the narrative:
Dear Chief Dickinson, first of all let me say that I’m pleased to live in Tigard. That’s a reflection of several things, and one of those is what I believe is a fine police department and I’ve had the pleasure of meeting some of your officers.
The reason I’m writing is to bring your attention to the radar trailer parked at 76th and Durham. The trailer faces northbound traffic on 76th and displays the speed to the vehicle. I was running tonight and imagine my surprise when I turned off of Durham onto 76th and saw the trailer. Not that the trailer was a surprise, but that it clocked me at 17 MPH! I turned expecting to see a car behind me that it was registering, but there was nothing. Puzzled but pleased at this apparent pace I ran around the block again. What I thought was an aberration was again reality as the trailer clocked me again at 16 MPH!
Sir, I'm just a middle aged stressed out desk jockey trying to reclaim what shreds of youth may be clinging to me as I travail this earth. I'd like to think that I can run a 14 MPH pace, but just last Sunday I ran 15 miles and it took me 3 hours! Either the radar is off or my Sunday run was a really bad day. I suspect the radar may be off.
I know you have far more important things than to sift through this drivel and there is no need for you to respond to my note but you might want to have someone calibrate it a bit finer. However, I do thank you for the brief glimpse in the rearview mirror of my life, where I saw a strong, handsome young man running 15 MPH.
Sincerely,
Dave Mundt
