Go west, young man, but make a stop in Iowa...

2.79 miles. A tough 2.79 on sharp hills in the countryside beyond the Iowa City city limits, too. I'm looking to get a good night's sleep tonight, wake up early (for cooler weather), and see if I can pound out a longer run. No guarantees on a good length, but I will guarantee that I'm going to drag my sorry ass out of bed and give it a shot. I'll take effort for now.

I've decided to give music a break in favor of books on tape. I listened to the first three chapters of Jack Kerouac's classic On The Road during my run this evening, and it was steadily enjoyable. I'd even go as far as to say that tonight's run will probably be one that I remember for the rest of my life. On The Road is an autobiographical account of Kerouac's decision (and subsequent journey) to take a trip out west. Near the end of my run, I reached a point in the story when Kerouac is on his way through Iowa. He gushes over the Mississippi River in Davenport, stops in Iowa City briefly, spends a night in a hotel in Des Moines (where he remarks that girls in Des Moines are the "most beautiful"), gets a beer in Stuart, then becomes awestruck by the sight of Council Bluffs. He even gets a ride hitchhiking with two University of Iowa students.

Talk about timing. It was weird listening to it as I ran, and I imagined the possibility that my feet may have landed upon cement or soil or grass where Jack Kerouac once stood while traveling through. He really loved Iowa, from what I gathered, and he saw it as a gateway to his trip to the West. At one point, he mentions that Iowa essentially meant Denver, and Denver essentially meant escape. Iowa may be simple, but it is also strikingly sincere.

You don't see Iowa much in pop culture. When you do, it's stuff like this. Sure, we have Field of Dreams, but that's about it. It was wholly refreshing to hear such a high opinion of Iowa from a man who has been dead for forty years.

More treadmill...

Same gig as yesterday. Did two miles on a treadmill, with the second one at a 7:24 pace. If I do these treadmill miles, I'm going to keep lowering my time so that there's some progress there. I've also heard that to get a good time for a marathon, you're supposed to run slower for your longer runs, then do much faster short runs.

I really enjoy treadmills. Most people hate them, but I enjoy setting a pace and adapting to it. Plus, the incline feature can be challenging. The ones at Anytime Fitness have TV consoles attached to them, too. Love it.

"The Slump"

Okay, so I'm back. This past week has been one of the busiest weeks of my life; I apologize for not putting the blog very high up on my priority list. My daily running habit is often a nuisance. I don't need another nuisance in the form of daily blogging. But I will definitely try to do it daily if time allows.

Last Saturday through this past Monday, I ran my typical 1.08 miles. Complete filler material, and, seeing as I wanted to run 30 miles this past week with a long run of 12 miles, a complete failure, too. Aside from my hectic week of moving, working, and cleaning my house before the lease ended, the heat here in Iowa City was nearly unbearable at times. I still feel like I could put down ten miles if the temperature were hovering in the mid-sixties. But in mid-nineties, not happening. The autumn will bring great football, and great running.

With the heat being a problem, I decided to get a gym membership. On Tuesday, when I began to feel totally worthless and depressed over the previous week's shortcoming, I went to Anytime Fitness in Iowa City and bought myself a 12-month membership. The place is nice, clean, cool, and has all the stuff I need for a good workout. Plus, I can use this membership to get into the Anytime Fitness facilities in Harlan, West Des Moines (there are three close to my apartment), and in Iowa City--basically wherever I plan on being for the next year, I can get in to workout. And it's open 24-hours a day, which is all I've ever wanted in a gym.

I've gone the past three days. I run a mile when I get there (sub-8:00 pace, usually around 7:47), then focus on upper body lifts. The last time I lifted consistently was over a year ago. That, not incidentally, was my peak as a runner. I always knew upper body strength was important for distance running, but I've been riding the coattails of my previous three years of lifting for far to long now. When I ran the marathon last month, I could tell that the effort was all coming from my legs. Nothing from the waste up was working for me; it was all working against me. With two and a half months until Chicago, I'm confident I can get some strength up top to help me out down below. After my upper body lifts, I run another mile at about 7:30 pace. If my math serves me correctly (1 + 1 = 2), I ran two miles the past three days.

So now I need to do something special. I've always had the ability to kick out a good long run on a moment's notice. My legs feel pretty good. I need to beat this heat into submission. I need to man-up.

The Man Who Moves

1.08 miles. It was a long, long day of moving and unpacking. But I saw something today that made me stare intently and question my expectations of myself and what I should be capable of doing: my dad pretty much lugged a washer up a flight of stairs by himself. The man has incredible, innate strength. He possesses this mindset that he can lift the impossibly heavy and move the immovable; there is no job too big for him. I remember working alongside him in a meat-packing plant when I was in high school. I was quite a bit younger than I am now, and much weaker. I remember hating the work. I remember having to do physically-demanding labor for ten hours per day, and barely being able to do it. And when I did, I'd go home too tired to do anything the rest of the evening. And then I'd still be tired the next morning, at 5 a.m., when I'd have to get up for the workday again. But he would go to work. He would do the same work with relative ease. He'd go home at night and do more work--lawn work, farming work, exterior house work, etc.--for three or four more hours. Then he'd get up in the morning and do it all over again. He has an incredible skill set when it comes to physical endurance, pain, and strength. And on top of that, he has an untouchable work ethic. He doesn't run or lift weights or really do any structured exercise. He gets his muscle from knowing that he has a task to do, and that by doing it he'll have achieved something, even if it's something that doesn't come with glory or praise. That is what makes him completely different than anyone else. He'll crush himself to get a self-made result. Most people would hire a mover. Most people would hire a builder. Most people would rather pay somebody else to put up with the pain and inconvenience. My father is the mover, the builder, and the Ultimate High Threshold. I remember being even younger and watching him work outside in 100 degree weather, never needing to take in water, wearing long sleeves and thick blue jeans and never letting the heat phase him as he hammered limestone and built a spectacular, 100+ feet rock wall during his Sundays (his one day off) for a summer. He has these hands that look swollen, only they're not swollen; they're like balls of muscle, and they can grab anything and hold onto it securely. He's over fifty, and his hands, while showing wear, don't show age. Just unremitting strength. That's how he got that washer up the stairs, I know it.

There's a big reason why I love Bruce Springsteen, and it's because in each of his songs I can see a little (and in some cases a lot) of my father. I hope I have his genes and I just haven't realized it yet. If not, I hope I can lasso his mindset and do things just to get them done, to not take the easy way out. I have some deep thinking to do about what I'm trying to get out of running, and I have to stop looking for ways to get what I want out of it and just, in essence, shut-up and get it done.

On account of there still being...

...a heat advisory at 10 p.m. this evening here in Iowa City, I've settled for 1.08 miles. Unfortunately, it's looking like high eighties for the rest of my time here in Iowa City. Probably won't be getting any nostalgia runs in with this weather.

#933

Stuck with my one mile today. I may need to increase my protein intake. My legs felt really tired today while running, biking to work, and packing for West Des Moines. I'm hoping I can put in seven miles tomorrow because Friday is the big moving day, and I doubt I'll have the energy to do much more than the mandatory mile.

Check out these tips for tired legs. I found the cod-liver oil remedy interesting in the first one.

I'm slowly creeping upon my 1,000th day of this consecutive days with a mile business. I've considered getting a tattoo to officially consecrate me as a runner. I've also considered throwing a small bash on the night of #999, then running at the stroke of midnight (while possibly slightly inebriated) to chime in #1,000. It could be fun, and a little dangerous. I ran while tipsy once, and it was real show. There are plenty of potential names of this event, like "The New Millennium Party," too. I might have to set up a Planning Party Committee to tackle this endeavor.

"Croatoan"

The next week and a half is going to be busy, busy, busy. Gotta work, gotta get some good shuteye, gotta pack, gotta move, gotta do some preemptive lesson planning, and gotta help clean the house I'm leaving behind here in Iowa City. I tackled the exposed surfaces of the kitchen yesterday, as well as most of my bathroom. You can never have enough rags or scrubbin' sponges, that's for sure. I'm worried I'm going to find an animal carcass (excluding insect or bug) somewhere in the house--behind a sofa, upstairs tucked away in my closet, or downstairs in the freaky unfinished basement. If I find one, I'll make a personal guarantee to boil a portion of it and eat it. Let's hope I don't find one.

A special thank you to Jake for his "weak" comment yesterday: A little motivation for my 6.50 miles tonight at a 7:48 pace. Total time was 50:49 minutes. Probably my strongest run since this blog started.

Mr. Status Quo

Same old 1.08 miles. I've had great salads for two straight days. Getting my greens. That's all I got.

Herky!

I got my six miles done, finishing with 6.07 miles at a 7:58 min./mile pace (total time was 48:22 minutes). The weather was perfect, about as nice as you can ask for a summer night anyway. I started off at a much faster pace than I ended with, but I'm just happy to have it over. It would have qualified for Rebound Run status if I could have held my initial pace.

On my cool-down walk, I saw a couple walking a female soft-coated wheaten terrier. She ran right up to me and said hello, letting me give her a good itchin' under her chin. Last week, I helped dog sit a wheaten terrier (he is pictured above). His name is Herky. He comes off as pretty much untrainable, but what he lacks in obedience, he makes up for by being absolutely adorable.

I need a dog. Not necessary soon. But within two years, I'd like to have a couple. My short list includes a bichon frise, a chocolate lab, a husky, and a wheaten terrier. If I'm around a dog too long (about a day), I become a breed fanatic and decide that I must have one at some point. I'm like the snotty young daughter of a wealthy business tycoon who must have her pony.

Cue horrible dog-related music. Seriously, watch this music video. Excellent cinematography.

Chance at Becoming President: 0%

The second day in a row for 1.08 miles. I have been busy with both work and sleeping enough to stay awake at work. I am still planning to deliver on my promise to do a six-mile run before this weekend is over. If I can get it done, I will have put in approximately 24 miles on the week. For next week, I'm hoping to get to around 30, with the additional six miles added onto my longest run of this week (which means I will have a 12-miler on my plate). I cannot afford to put off full marathon training any longer, and I will probably need to play considerable catch-up to be on track.

I went to West Des Moines yesterday to do a few errands. I got the keys to my new apartment. The place looked pretty good and was decently spacious for the price, so I am looking forward to it. I also stopped by my high school and took care of payroll benefits. As of September 1st, I will have health, dental and vision plans, a life insurance policy, and a retirement fund. Nothing has ever made me feel so incredibly old and young at the same time. Old because I finally, after 23 years of depending on my parents, have to set these things up for myself. Young because I didn't know what the hell I was doing and really didn't have a clue as to how all of these things work. Luckily, I got plenty of my questions answered by a really, really, really helpful lady in the business office of the school. I also went to pick up my textbook(s) from a fellow teacher, and I was surprised to find out that I will be teaching not just World History, but also American History next year. It was a bittersweet find. Two classes will mean more lesson-planning, which basically means double the out-of-class work. But I love America, and loving America as much as I do requires that I get up in front of a bunch of teenagers and flaunt the flag. Flaunt the flag, baby. Just flaunt it!

Also, today I put my signature on a ballot referendum to give the Iowa Socialist Party a chance to put a candidate on the November ballot. I am not a Socialist by any means, but I felt sorry for the guy because everyone was ignoring him. I figure, hell, why not give them a chance to be as miserable as everyone else in the political forum. Maybe I shouldn't have signed it--he was wearing a Yankees cap. But anyway, he was kind, and the more options the better. Maybe a third party will at least pressure both the Republican and Democratic candidates to get more done. We shall see.

For a fact, I ruined my shot at becoming President. They'd dig up all the dirt on me and find out I signed a petition thirty years ago allowing a socialist to be on the ballot. Crazy.

To do: Find a reasonably-priced gym or fitness center in the Des Moines area. One that's not too far from my apartment. Hopefully something that's open 24/7, too.

Sure could use a hand...

1.08 miles, only for the streak. I've been blogging to prevent days like this from happening. Still, it happens. To force some progress, I owe myself a run of over six miles this weekend.

Yes, that picture is real. Be afraid. Be very, very afraid.

Coyote Nasty?

5.01 miles. 39:21 minutes. A 7:51 min./mile pace. Today was a lot cooler than yesterday's 96 degrees, especially when I started jogging at around 10:15 p.m. Less humid, too. I didn't get as far as I wanted, but I found a good pace and stuck with it, even after debating with myself about whether I should quit after two miles and walk the other three back. I'm glad I didn't do that.

Last night, on Iowa Ave. at about 4:15 a.m., I spotted a large animal trotting down the median of the road. Because I thought it was a dog, I stopped to get a better look and see if I could talk to him. When I got about five feet from him (or her), I realized that this was definitely not a dog. The extremely bushy tail, smaller face, pointy ears, and it's relatively curious demeanor helped me to realize that it was instead a coyote. Not what I expected near downtown Iowa City. I got back on my bike out of fear, and we both took different paths down the street. When I got home, I immediately searched for coyotes on Wikipedia (the most legitimate non-legitimate source on Planet Earth), and I have no doubt that this was the type of animal I encountered. I also read online that they have been known to track joggers and walkers in urban areas. Every time I saw something--a biker, a leaf, a shadow--in my peripheral vision while jogging tonight, I immediately jumped to the conclusion that a Wile E. Coyote was tailing me.

Also, don't search the term "Coyote Nasty" on Google Images without your filter on. I was looking for a nasty picture of coyotes, mainly some incredibly sharp teeth. What I ended up getting was a little less coyote and a lot more nasty.

#926...

Not much to write today: A for-streak's-sake run at 1.95 miles, and what hopefully will make for good rest on some tired legs. Enjoy Van Gogh's "Noon Rest From Work."

To Do: Get a Runner's World subscription.

Here is the 6.26 mile route that I biked today. I biked at around 3:00 p.m. in order to both get some exposure to exercising in the heat and to get some cross-training in. On two wheels, the course took me 31:32 minutes to complete, a 5:00 min./mile pace (rather slow, considering there are people in the world who can run a full marathon at this pace). There were a few challenging hills. Those of you who have lived in Iowa City probably know a few of them, particularly the hill along N. Dubuque St. I honestly think it's easier to run up a steep hill than to bike up it. I ran a similar route, stopping a mile earlier: 5.26 miles in 41:50 minutes, a 7:57 pace. The pace was a little faster than yesterday's run, but it didn't really feel an easier. Could have been the heat and humidity (running in heat can reduce your performance time by 20-30 seconds for every five degree increase, according to Runner's World magazine). Could have just been me being a baby, too.

These Iowa City hills won't be troubling me too much longer, as I'm moving to West Des Moines in a few weeks. For those of you who don't know, I have a job lined up teaching World History at a private high school. I am very excited to get a change in scenery, both for running and just for the sake of living, breathing, eating, teaching, etc. I am sad about leaving Iowa City in some respects. Most of my friends have left in the last few months, but there are still a few people (and some great runs) here that I will miss sorely.

Anyway, regarding teaching, I watched the movie Dead Poets Society last night, a great film about an educator (Robin Williams) who inspires a bunch of boys at a private high school to start living their lives they way they want to. Obviously, I was drawn to the story since it vaguely reminded me of what I'll hope to be doing in a few weeks. I'm already trying to think of ways to relate Ancient Greece to the lives of my future students--maybe I can pull a quick one and trick them into caring. Probably not, since they will be sophomores.

Sophomores are brats.

But if you think they can be challenging, then you haven't seen me lead a classroom. I rule the roost like a mean motherwatchyourmouth. Also, the thought of me being a 23-year-old teacher in charge of a bunch of 16-year-old students does scare me a titch. I'm only old enough to be an older brother to them...

An Okay Start

Before work this afternoon, I went out and got a 4.2 mile run in. It took me 34:01 minutes. This comes to an 8:05/mile pace. Click HERE for the map route of my run.

I will take this small form of progress for the first day. I wouldn't call this "The Rebound Run" yet, though. When I get that run in, I will post a picture of Hakeem "The Dream" Olajuwon (great NBA rebounder), not a rather lame picture of me holding a glass of water.

What makes up a Rebound Run? The Rebound Run is not only when you've officially broken the mold, but also when you took that mold, pissed all over it, and then set it on fire. Throw on some Bon Jovi or something. Dance around the flames. I'll know it will be The Rebound Run when it happens. Today wasn't it.

All of us can run four miles. Some of us may have only run as high as one in our lifetime, but think about it this way: If Mel Gibson throws a briefcase of a million dollars on the table, and, in a profanity-laced tirade, tells you that it's yours if you can get your lazy ass off of the sofa and run four miles, couldn't you do it? Not just for the money, but to spite Mel Gibson? Everyone I know who saw Ransom enjoyed it: "GIVE ME BACK MY SON."

Short-term goal for the day: Drink more water.

C'mon, blog, light my fire!

"To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the Gift." --Steve Prefontaine.

I am starting this blog because I have hit a mental plateau with my running. Over the past month, after finishing the Minneapolis Marathon on June 6th, I have failed to keep myself in running shape and have lost focus of some of my long-term goals. Hopefully, if I know that a few extra eyes are watching my progress (or lack thereof) from afar, I will scare myself into going the extra mile--pun definitely intended--and get myself back on track.

After finishing the marathon last month, I started eating progressively worse, maintaining a piss-poor sleeping schedule, and running shorter distances and at a slower pace. The 26.2 took a little out of me, and my body still isn't 100% recovered. Still, I believe most of my problems are mental, not physical. I don't really have the drive, and I view my nightly run as a nuisance instead of a pleasure. There is a deep, overwhelming passion that can take over a runner. I have felt it before. I just can't now.

I caught a glimpse of that passion through the ghost of a dead man. Steve Prefontaine, the man credited with the opening quote of this blog, was a standout distance runner at the University of Oregon and for the U.S. Olympic Team. I read his biography a couple of weeks ago after my roommate recommended it. Just looking at pictures of the man running, with his mustache and wild hair, ignited a flame (although not an all-out bonfire) in me. Has that ever happened to you? Where you're drawn to a picture of someone or something? His story, his photos, his quote--they all convinced me to give my best a shot.

So with that thought in mind, let the bloggin' and joggin' begin.

Here are three running goals that I have in mind:

1. As of July 11th (today), I have an active streak of running at least a mile every day for 923 days. My New Year's resolution for 2008 was to run a mile every single day. I did it, and then some. This streak is non-negotiable to me. I have run with a 103 degree body temperature, through tornado warnings and blizzards, on mountains and in the Vegas heat, and through breakups and the death of a loved one. No matter where this blog or my progress take me, keeping this streak alive and well is my primary goal.
2. I have run two marathons: Chicago (2009) and Minneapolis (2010). I am scheduled to run the Chicago Marathon again this year, and one of my goals is to lower my time. Finishing is always good, too.
3. To be faster.

I have included a picture of Pre. Stare into those eyes. Try and tell me you're not a little freaked out.