65 Is a Highway, a Speed Limit and Oh Yes, My Age

Well this was the weekend.
I turned 65.
I became eligible for Medicare and will be able to apply for Social Security in one year.
But I feel 30.
I went out and ran 6 miles on Sunday, I should have run 6.5, a cruel irony.
I ran with Alice, Amy remains AWOL and on the injured list.
The run was great on the way out and Alice who is able to talk and run provided the "color commentary".
People waved as they drove by and some yelled "funny things" but all in all it was really pleasant and sunny.
Coming back the wind hit us in the face and it felt like we were climbing a wall.
The speed for the total outing ended up at 12.95 minutes per mile.
This won't break anybody's record but for me it is something that makes me happy.
Alice and Amy can easily run a faster pace but they defer to the old guy.
Thank you ladies.
So this week two more six mile runs are on tap followed by a nine mile run next Sunday.
In five years I would like to write 70 is a highway, a speed limit, my age and the distance of my last ultra.
Hey you "gotta dream"!

Visceral Pain

Yep, it is real and it can exist in a shoulder.
I have been fighting a shoulder pain for about three months.
Shoulder presses, bench presses all make it feel bad but not so bad that I want to quit.
I really feel that if I quit I will lose a lot of ground and ground is hard to gain when you are aging.
So this morning after lifting and avoiding the shoulder a friend offered to help stretch my shoulders.
I was all for this as I have done this in the past and it has been remarkable.
Today was different, the pressure was gradual and downward and suddenly something in the shoulder "popped" both actually and figuratively.
It made a distinct vibration that caused the air to move and produce a "pop" one could hear at a distance.
The person applying the pressure suddenly had a "sick" look on their face and I felt something deep in my gut turn over.
Wait a minute, this is a shoulder how does it cause pain in the gut?
I don't know but I suspect we are all wired differently in small ways and somehow my shoulder sensors register in my gut.
I didn't get nauseated but I knew I was not going to get up easy.
But hey, I am tough, I have broken a lot of bones, I have had surgery and dental extractions so what is a little shoulder pain?
I hopped to my feet and immediately knew I was going to fall head first into a Cybex Machine and I was betting the Cybex Machine would be less dented than me so I took a knee.
In football that stops the clock and you get to reconsider the next play.
It did stop the clock, the dizziness disappeared and on getting up the second time I was ale to navigate to another part of the gym and "yes" the shoulder was free of pain.
Hallelujah.
Well then I decided I will go ahead and run my five miles today.
Guess what, the dizziness decided to stay for the next hour.
The good side of this story, I did lose weight this morning and my appetite never came back the rest of the day.
Maybe this is the way to control my intake, more visceral pain.
Can somebody "pop" my other shoulder?

The Reluctant Chef and the Even More Reluctant Diner

Saw a recipe for Gumbo.
I love Gumbo and order it every time I see it on a menu.
I told my wife, "I think I will make that for dinner".
"Doesn't look to hard just a lot of chopping".
That dampened my enthusiasm but decided later in the day to go ahead and try a batch.
I called my wife to let her know I was making the Gumbo and got the advice, "Be sure to cook the chicken before putting it in the crock pot".
Oh, ye of little faith.
I went to the store and picked up the necessary ingredients and added a few of my own.
For instance, the recipe did not call for Okra but no real Gumbo lacks Okra.
I also picked up some devilishly hot Cajun Spices.
I decided to use the crock pot instead of doing it in a stew pot on the stove.
The only thing I made on the stove was the Roux and I substituted Flax Seed Oil for Peanut Oil, seemed healthier.
I also decided to use the food processor instead of hand chopping all of the vegetables.
The food processor is a monster; it is said to be ale to grind up cement.
So I begin chucking onions, celery, green peppers into the chute and when finished I had a very green liquid.
Little recognizable evidence of the vegetables remained other than the potent smell of onion.
I dump this into the crock pot along with the COOKED CHICKEN, garlic, Cajun Spices, a bag of black eyed peas, a bag of frozen Okra and Andouille Sausage, about 1.5 pounds.
I then heated the Flax Seed Oil and whisked in one cup of all purpose flour.
This was transferred to the crock pot and for the next six hours, the Gumbo "boiled and bubbled".
The odor of the cooking Gumbo took me back to New Orleans, Hilton Head and other places in the low country or deep south.
The only problem; the Gumbo remained fluorescent green.
I attributed it to an excess of Chorophyll but I had to admit, it did not look like any Gumbo I had ever eaten.
By the time it was ready my wife had appeared on the scene.
She took one look at the Gumbo and said "I am not eating that, it is really bright green".
I answered, "It is supposed to be, it is an early St. Patrick's Day Stew".
Convinced by a white lie we both sat down to a bowl of green stew with a glass of Red Irish Wine.
Truly a rainbow feast.
Next time your over I'll make a batch for you.

Another Day, Another Run, Alice's Restaurant

A 4 mile run.
Today, Amy, Alice, Becky, Scott and Jason all joined in for all or at least part of the 4 miles.
It was indoors on the treadmill.
Not as good as running outdoors in the sun but still producing lots of endorphins.
Sunday will be an outdoor run, 8 miles, the Frenchman's Trail.
The temperature is predicted to hit 54* F.
It might rain but hopefully later in the day.
Amy and Alice are both scheduled for Sunday.
Today Alice bailed out early to, you won't believe this, to go eat Eggs Benedict.
I call them Benedict Arnold Eggs, because they betray you.
They taste wonderful, the Hollandaise Sauce is delightful, the Canadian Bacon, WOW.
The calories though are heavy duty; enough to seriously wound or kill your diet.
One source quoted 879 calories per serving, the equivalent of running 5 miles per hour for 80 minutes.
Alice, on the other hand, has a one of those metabolisms that can take the hit and suffer no damage.
I am trying to become a "Monk" following the ascetic lifestyle through the practice of nutritional penance.
It is good training for Lent.
I also believe dropping more weight will help me run faster and make it easier on my joints.
So I will keep running, listen to the storied meals of others and avoid "Alice's Restaurant" where you can have anything you want including Eggs Benedict.

New Year, New Posts

I am trying to become a runner.
I had never liked running, even 5 months ago, when I decided to begin running.
I am not sure why I wanted to run but now it seems natural.
The book, Born To Run, has become a light in the darkness for me.
I actually enjoy running, I enjoy meeting and talking with the people that run.
I have a running partner, Amy, also a novice runner who began running at the same time as myself.
I am more than twice her age and she could easily outrun me but instead follows my pace and we run.
So far my knees are holding up, hips-OK, calves a little tight after a long run but I am able to go back to Boot Camp the following day.
I and Amy are planning on running a half marathon in April.
Andy has also said he is going to join us.
The way I see it the more the merrier, the after party can be a lot bigger especially if all cross the finish line on their own power.
I will not be competing with anyone but myself and the "crawly" demons that begin to inhabit your brain at mile six or seven.
We just finished an 11 mile run, one day ago, yes the "crawly" things did show up right on time.
Like true novices, we went out without water or "Goo".
By the 8 or 9th mile we were seeking water like parched ground in a long drought.
We found it at the University of Evansville and the Lexus Dealership, thanks guys.
Also at mile 9, I was out of fuel, quick fuel, carbs, sugar and was even wobbling slightly with each step.
Again, the Lexus Dealership to the rescue, a stash of doughnut balls for customers waiting in the service department.
We ran into the dealership and like a deranged bandit I immediately sought out the doughnut balls and ate one.
The sugar rush was intense.
I could actually feel my brain rebooting and the muscles coming back on line.
Amy refrained saying she was going to eat 10 eggs when it was over.
We ran through the dealership greeting friends and surprising a few unsuspecting customers, two sweaty, mismatched runners, thanking everyone for the water and sugar.
When we finally saw our cars in the parking lot of Bob's gym we both felt a sense of real accomplishment.
We had completed 11 miles.
The times can get better, preparation can get better, planning can get better but the half marathon in April no longer seems just a dream.