A runner discovers the common cold runs its course on its own time — no matter how much you whine.

September 14, 2010

Fundamental Truth: a cold lasts a week. If you sleep it off, it lasts a week. If you run it off, it gets worse and then lasts a week. If you whine it off, it still lasts a week but people care less. If you run and fly and work and don’t sleep, right, it’s still a week but you feel worse. Colds last a week. Get over it. I will as soon as my head clears and I can stop coughing…you know tomorrow when it will be a week.

September 16, 2010
Eight days. Cold, get thee to a nunnery and be damned quick about it. Yelling at a cold does not help. Sleep does, but only for awhile. Bitching helps but only if done privately. Push-ups are illusory. Bench presses do not replace mileage. My new NB 1064s are watching me warily from the closet floor…do they know something I don’t? What do they mean by their mocking stance? Are they closet Marines? is there such a thing? Argggggghhhhhhh.

September 17, 2010
Should have written something today. An update of some sort. Perhaps an insight of some kind. A poem? A story? A shopping list? A joke? Something, anything. Good thing tomorrow is Yom Kippur so I won’t be able to do nothing again until tomorrow after sundown AND I get to atone for today. This book of life thing keeps a guy on his toes.

September 18, 2010

Sundown. Another year in the book. Start sinning early is what I say…afterwards, come morning, go for a run.

A few days in the life for Michael at Dick Beardsley’s Marathon Running Camp.

September 11, 2010

Built the Dick Beardsley Marathon Running Camp (DBMRC) video after the conclusion of the Dick Beardsley Legends Half Marathon…five days worth of stills put together with various songs as soundtrack. Sometimes this is an easy process, sometimes not so much. After the fact it appears that my choice in music dates me. I could not find a place for Michael Franti or Roots, both of whom are great to listen to while running but whose lyrics are less to do with running and more to do with sex and violence as much as they are with dreams and inspiration — a hip hop view of the world out of keeping with a sizable demographic in the audience.

JR. Walker and the All-Stars’ “(I’m a) Roadrunner” made it easily. Sadly, so did Steve Miller’s wish to “Fly Like an Eagle”. The video also has a section devoted to the ‘teams’ into which the camp is divided, a veritable zoo full of animal kingdom runners whose names are not so easily found in song lyrics. It is important to have lyrics that highlight the team names: Cheetahs, Spiders, and Beavers, and, improbably, Dolphins — so Tom T Hall, James McMurtry, Cheetah Love, Dylan, Tom Petty and DeadString Bros were all present and correct.

I always want to use the Stones and the Velvet Underground but in this crowd there will be raised eyebrows and a lot of ‘who are those guys?” not to mention that the Velvet Underground with Lou Reed is still one of the earliest and best lyric handbooks on how to score heavy drugs and lose one’s sense of light-hearted life in the big city. Oh well, since I can neither write music nor sing a lick they will take what I give them and like it…or I’ll redo it. Either way, it is a few minutes from presentation and I think the cameraman, writer, director is just a little nervous about the product. Don’t you?

September 12, 2010

Morning mist, sunrise coming..my most recent chapter of life on Little Bemidji Lake, Minnesota is coming to close…saw some old friends, made a couple of new ones, learned a thing or two. Until next year at the DBMRC I say travel well, stay healthy, run long, catch y’all on the flip side…all good things to all y’all.

Rode to the Fargo Airport with a guy who lives by a lake, drives 90 miles each way to work in Fargo (actually West Fargo) and drives home four days a week. He writes service manuals for combines and other such heavy machinery. He loves history. Pointed out where the flood waters rose from the Red River and how they just missed his wife’s parent’s farm where he used to pick her up for high school football games 30+ years ago. Continuity and connection in the heartland. Works for me.

September 13, 2010

Almost home…. Easy money. Leavin’ soon. Want to miss the commuter snarl here in Portland, Oregon. Might have to have the breakfast special at Johnnies, a great family-owned-and-run old style diner in SouthEast, while I’m waiting to head down the road. Maybe catch a run when I get home. Runners, take your marks.

Photo Credit

Photo © Michael Lebowitz. All Rights Reserved.

There’s something wonderful about starting fresh in the morning…in life…whatever.

September 8, 2010
Morning is heavy on the land today. Fall is in the air. A gravel and tar road bed winds through the trees, and loons are quiet on the lake. Out of the mist figures emerge, old friends out running in the early morning. These days the memories move faster than our legs, but the greetings, hand slap or head nod, are a connection to all the places we have been together. With Sam and Dave I am so glad I made it. Amen to that.

Mist in the trees…light breeze…Minnesota in the late summer. Apparently the walleye are jumpin’ or so the locals say.

Sunrise comes softly sometimes, a lovely idea that has found its proper time.

September 9, 2010
Strange day. Not enough sleep, head cold coming in, trumpeter swans on the lake, North wind blowing strong, storm coming. Full of signs and portents? Maybe. Maybe not. Beautiful in the way that the norm is replaced by an awareness of powers greater than any schedule…nature’s very own shock and awe in a minor key.

September 10, 2010
Today is the day the folks of my faith go down to the river and chuck in all their sins. When I was young it seemed a lot of walking for no discernible purpose. And all those black clothes and city shoes. Makes more sense now, which I’m guessing it is due in part to my having amassed a whole sh-tload of sins over the year/s. I’m clean now, did my chucking, ready to start again…look out sins, here I come.

September 5, 2010
Slept a little. Going out now to shoot the Eugene Women’s Half Marathon — first inaugural, 2000 strong. Lifted, ran a little to get my “game face” together. It’s been a long way from a Kodak point-and-shoot four years ago in Newport to here. Joe (you know who you are) put me on this road, as he had done with so many others in his quiet way. Running down the road for miles only to find out who you are and who you can be. This one is for you.

Update: “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” (Dylan, Clapton, Jah Levi, The Dead — like that), it’s a marathon morning. Everything, everyone, that came before got me here. The start is two hours away. I have no idea what daylight will bring. Time to lace up, quiet down, give thanks, show up. One step at a time is what I have. Not running here, but shooting it, being who I have become — different, thrilling, scary, and quiet. Time to go.

September 6, 2010 early
Shot it. Sorted it. Sent it off (mostly). Everything I know about how to do what I do, and everything I used to pretend to know how to do, came together for a few hours — 10,000+ images. Everything got covered. The Eugene Women’s First Inaugural Half Marathon is in the books. Winning time 1:14+ . Thanks 2 Richard, Jill, Nicole, Andy, William, Ivar, Jay, Eric, Richard, Lydia … and the 2000 women who made it what it was.

Time to be up headin’ east…country, out of town, gone fishin’ (with my Canon). Gonna run the early morning road miles with old friends. Gonna watch the sunrise. Gonna listen to the loons’ call and gonna remember how it is in the fall when the mornings are cold, the water is like glass, the fish are jumpin’ and the livin’ is a gift beyond measure.

September 7, 2010
Some days are missing from the journal…I’m pretty sure stuff happened but if I don’t write it down, it goes away…tempus fugit or something like that.

Up country, down by the lake…wind blew in from the Northeast, a rain wind, lightning and thunder. Felt like it always does — a deep quiet inside the majesty of a summer storm brings out in me a desire to be in front of a fire with friends and conversation or, equally, to be alone or with someone special, and a fire and an old dial-up tube radio, listening to jazz from some other place, a time far away.

The locals tell you to watch the reeds. Everything you need to know about what is and what is about to be can be seen if one looks closely, quiets the mind and lets the language of the waters speak to your heart…Minnesota morning, northeast wind, rain comin’ in.

Went. Walked. Talked. Work now, lift later. Longer run tomorrow.

Photo Credit

“Time to Fly” Photographer Padawan @ Flickr.com. Creative Commons. Some Rights Reserved.

September 1, 2010

Ran out of excuses this morning. Ran several miles. Felt stronger in the broken places (Hemingway suggested it might work that way). Ate some carbs and seeds. Drank tap water. Worked through an obstacle. Posting on FB is not writing. Exactly.

I am looking for song lyrics that include “brown recluse spider”…no, I’m not kidding. Why? Going to Marathon Camp. Endurance beasts? Possibly. How about “beaver”,  as in work like one. Cheetah, as in run like one, mountain goat, Labrador retriever (has to be a Canadian tune with that) and dolphins…Please don’t ask why, time to do or die…sayeth the Raven.

September 2, 2010
Ran with B this morning. He is recovering from use injuries that have plagued him for over a year. Me? I’m recovering from the ravages of aging (ego mostly). We walked to warm up, did maybe eight sets of ‘run the straights’, ‘walk the curves’. The high school was closed; the dreams dreamt so long ago were still alive in the morning mist. Walked back, drank coffee, talked, went to a meeting…Words, I’m comin’ to get ya. Now.

September 3, 2010
Run first. Write later. Write first. Run later. Post on FB. Do nothing. Do nothing. Post on FB. You see where this is going. Me, I’m out the door. Running. Writing in my head. Looking both ways when I cross the streets of my hometown. I know my name and address, telephone number too. Writing is where you find it. Feets, don’t fail me now…..Ran. Now what? Oh, right! Write!

Photo Credit

“Run like hell!!” Ken douglas @ flickr.com. Creative Commons. Some Rights Reserved.