Annie, may she rest in peace!

Friday was one of the worst days of my girlfriend’s life, as I saw it… Annie, one of her Golden Retriever’s took very ill. She had a tumor the size of a basketball, which was putting pressure on all her organs, and there was very little question of what options there were. This just weeks after an illness took the aged family cat, Palay! Not a good June for Shelley!

I met Annie (the dog) in 2004. I had just started dating Shelley, and she had two dogs and a cat (Palay). If I have the facts right, Annie was the dog she kept after the divorce (Oliver went with her ex-husband). Shelley wanted Annie to have a companion and purchased the male Golden Retriever, Jackson. With two of the most diverse personalities, they provided many memories. Me not being a strong animal lover, they seemed attracted to me. As a kid, I had some real bad issues with dogs and grew to resist getting attracted to an animal.

Annie and Jackson always seemed to sense that I was indifferent. They would always try to get my attention. Jackson was aggressive, but Annie, with her graying hair, would just plop her head there and look at me. Just like she was always saying, please be my friend. I did just that. They grew on me, and I learned to enjoy my visits and walks with them. Now, it will be a walk of one, which will be hard at first.

After Annie was euthanized, the Vet did the best job ever helping with the pain we all felt. My son came, and afterward, he asked why I was crying. He said he had never seen me cry and knew my approach to dogs. I explained that Annie was unique, and many times when Shelley was out of town or after my surgeries, Annie seemed to know what to do… She seemed to always approach me like a loving mother, not demanding anything but just wanting you to know she was there, always willing to make anything better. It is very painful to see her go, but it is the right decision. So I, like any human, would have cried with that much sorrow, seeing what had become a dear part of my life go away…

R.I.P. Annie, may you and Palay have a great time together in heaven! You were special to many!

Carry on…

What... me run Grandma's again? And Finish?

In 1985, I set a goal, and last year, I made that goal, well, half the goal. I had a goal to run Grandma's and Twin Cities Marathon 25 years in a row. In my 13th year at TCM, my entry got chewed up by the postal service and returned to me weeks after the race. Never got entered and quite frankly, the cold and lack of understanding from the TCM staff really upsets me, even today, I always suggest people look at some other friendlier race! Anyway, last year I finished 25 Grandma's. (Click to see the post) I was not ever going to do that race again.

This, coupled with my knee surgery last July, my bike accident last July, stress at work, and then another surgery in mid-May 2010, I never envisioned I would run Grandma's, nor did I want to run it. Although I am a father first in life and would go to the end of the world for my son. He wanted to run the race and asked me to join him. I resisted feverishly. He continued to encourage me to consider it. Long story short, I entered.

Before I started the report, it was such a boost to see Wayne Nelson several times on the course. It really kept me positive. After seeing Lisa at Lake Street, I felt a wave of confidence. THANKS MUCH, YOU TWO!

As I said I would never do it again, I started my 26th consecutive Grandma's Marathon. Since last July, I have logged less than 20 running miles. I have over 1,200 miles on the bike and another large amount of walking miles, but so little running. I talked all week about there being no chance I would finish...

My son decided to run the first mile with me. A minimally impressive 12-minute mile with an HR of 130.  I was pleased with how I felt... Then, my son proceeded on his own to a 4:30 finish. On the other hand, a good goal would be the first 5 miles in 12:30 a mile or less, the next 5 miles in 13 minutes or less, and the same pattern to the end. This went well; for 16 miles, I started to feel blisters and cramps. I had been taking S-Caps and knew it was related to fatigue. So I decided to walk. Walk fast!!!

I was surprised to find I was clicking off 15:00 minutes of mile walking but could only muster just over 14 minutes of mile running. This was short-lived, as every mile I dropped 10-15 seconds. By mile 22, I was at a 16-mile mark, but a finish was within reach. I tried to jog but knew that was not a great idea. So I walked and walked and walked. The miles clipped one after another.

My son came back and met me at mile 24, and I had a full boost of confidence. He stayed with me to Lake Street, and then I got a second wind. The last two miles were in the 13-14 range, and I FINISHED #26. Coming across the finish line, I cried. I cried because I never, in my dreams, thought I would get past halfway. I cried because my own son encouraged me to do the seemingly impossible. I cried because it was over.

I feel almost like I did after 77 miles of the ST 100 in 2007. My feet look the same. I have a baseball-sized blister on the right foot and a smaller one on the left. But if that is the price I pay tonight, I am happy! I made my son proud less than five weeks after Surgery that put me out of work for a few weeks. It is a great feeling when you finish something that seems impossible.

Where does this take me? I do not know, as I will have to see what the next two days are like, but I have one big smile on my face tonight, even though my foot is pretty painful!

Carry on, my friends! Carry on!