But grandpa, he looks funny!

My grandfather has been the subject of many blog posts. There is one story he told that could not be true, although it really emphasizes the love and care a parent gives to a child. It is one I know changed my life… 

My own son has had difficult times, and Lord knows if there was any way for me to do what this father did for his child, I would without hesitation.  I don't know the moral of the following story from my Grandfather, but it made me think many times about how I looked at or treated people.  The story was something like:

There was a farmer who had one eye. His son avoided him and thought his appearance was an embarrassment. He was always helping the neighbors in any way he could to raise a few more dollars to help the son.  One day during elementary school he came to see his son, his son told his friend that the man wasn’t his father, but they knew.  He thought “How could she do this to me?”  The next day at school some of his classmates said, “EEEE, your dad only has one eye!” 

When the son came home, he told his father he wished he would just disappear. His son exclaimed, “If you’re only going to make me a laughing stock, why don’t you just die?” 

The father did not respond… The son didn’t even stop to think for a second about what he had said, because he was full of anger. The son was oblivious to his father’s feelings. 

The son wanted out of that house, and nothing to do with his father. So he studied real hard and earned chance to study abroad.  Then, he got married, bought a house, and had kids.  The son was so happy with his life without his father.   

Then one day, his father came to visit. He hadn’t seen him in years and he had not even meet his grandchildren.  His son always told his family his parents were dead.  The farmer was aware of the success and happiness of his son, but was concerned about the embarrassment he would have caused, so he stayed away. 

When the son stood by the door, his children laughed at his father.  The son yelled at him for coming over uninvited. He screamed, “How dare you come to my house and scare my children! GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!”   

And to this, his father quietly answered, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I may have gotten the wrong address.” – and he disappeared out of sight.  He told the family it was an old co-worker.

One day, the son was informed of a school reunion.   After the reunion, he went to the old farm just out of curiosity.  The neighbors said that his father had died.  The son did not shed a single tear. The neighbors handed him a letter that his father had wanted him to have.

“My dearest son, 

I think of you all the time. I’m sorry that I came to your house and scared your children.  I came to see you as I had liver failure and needed a donor.  If you reading this letter, a donor was not found.  I think it is important you know, when you were very little there was an accident and you lost your eye.  As a father, I couldn’t stand watching you having to grow up with one eye.  So I gave you mine. 

I am so proud of you!  You are seeing a whole new world for me, in my place, with that eye. 

With all my love to you, 

Your father.”

I recall the first time Grandpa told the grandkids this story.  We had just met a child of my grandfather’s neighbor.  I was six years old that summer (year left out intentionally).  The child had a severe case of Down syndrome, and the five Grandchildren did not act nice.  I know I was uncomfortable.  I stared and reacted rudely, as I did not know what to do?  My Grandfather took the kids into the living room, took out the bible (he always held the bible when he told a story), and told us the story.

I became pretty good friends with that Downs Syndrome boy (but can't recall his name!) and many handicapped, fat, unusual people, … over the years.   The less fortunate have so much to offer everyone if we get past the differences from us…

Thanks, Grandpa!

Carry on my friends! 

29 down, 1 to go...

It was 29 years ago. I had a goal of running Grandma's Marathon and Twin Cities Marathon for 25 consecutive years. The postal service goofed up my Twin Cities streak at 12 when the machine chewed up my entry, and it was returned after the race. So I had Grandma's...

When I reached the 25th year, I was prepared to call it quits. Then, my son encouraged me to run with him for the 26th race. For the 26th, I decided I would run 5.24 miles and quit. That would mean I ran 26.2 consecutive Grandma's Marathons. My son decided to run the whole race with me, so I could not stop at 5.24 miles, as this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. That means only one thing! The goal was now 30 consecutive finishes.  

The 29^th Consecutive finish at Granma’s marathon is complete.  I went into the week of the race thinking the 5-mile training run on June 15^th was inadequate to finish.  That was the first run since Grandma’s 2012.  Since that was such a poor run, I decided to run again on Wednesday the 19^th.  I completed a 4-mile run and felt expended.  This year I was really concerned and knew my only chance was to be mentally strong and I believed I know my body and capabilities well.  So I told Shelley I would run 12:30 minute miles for the first hour with the average pace slowing every hour to the point where I averaged a 15-minute mile at the end. 

I left for Duluth on Friday at about 12:30 PM.  I was going up alone as Shelley had plans with her parents in Lincoln, Nebraska, and my sister could not make the race in a year.  I arrived at 4:30 PM (traffic was horrible) and quickly picked up my packet.  I walked around Canal Park to calm my nerves.  After evaluating the clothing option I brought with me, I decided to purchase gloves and sleeves.  They turned out to be so valuable in the race!

2013 Finisher

So it was nighttime, and it was just the Smart Car and me. This would be the first time I would try to sleep in the little thing. I brought five pillows and a blanket. I stuffed the area between the seats with pillows, put my legs in the passenger area, and starched my body across the less than 5-foot space. While challenging, I slept about as well as I could. Of course, two Advil PMs helped.

The forecast for the race was dismal.  Cold, rain, and heavy winds.  The only thing that could have made the weather look worse was snow.  Thank GOD that did not happen!  However, we may have had sleet if the winds had come off the lake.  But the winds were from the northeast.  No lake breeze today!   

I made it to the start of the train and prepared for the race.  To shorten this post, it went exactly as planned.  In the first hour, I averaged 12:24 miles (planned 12:30).   After hour two, I was at 12:49 (13:00 Planned).  I felt good but decided not to risk cramps or fatigue and follow the plan.  I held back and did some walking to stay with the plan.  Well, I finished with a 15:02 average, four minutes better than last year.  I felt good.  I even jogged to the drop bags and to the car. 

The drive home took a lot of work to start.  The fog was in Duluth all day and cleared when I was past Cloquet. (See video).

On a side note, on April 13, 2013, I went to see a nutritionist.  I really am into what she says and have followed her advice.  I have not stepped on the scale since April 13, 2013, until today.  While I have lost weight, I am a little disappointed.  I have lost an average of 2.4 pounds a week (24 pounds). Is that a healthy loss rate?  In 2006, when I also went to a nutritionist, I had an average of 4.3 pounds a week for the first 10 weeks.  I need to be patient.

Now, it is time for recovery. I hope to be back on the bike and taking that 18-mile commute to work in the next few days!

Carry on…

Baby Beluga sighting in Apple Valley!

Well, I did it!  For the past 2 years, I have run Grandma's Marathon, which is the only running I have completed. No training other than walking and biking.  Yesterday, I went out for a run. It was 3 miles of pure hell!  I ran over a 13 min. mile.  I have had so much mucus lately, and my chest has been congested.  I was breathing so hard and hacking. It was just a shame.  If anyone had heard me, they may have called 911.

I felt like the picture below.

I am going to do this again.  I will because it is the best way to get into shape again.   Once again, I have registered for Grandma's Marathon this year. If I can run Grandmas and finish, this will be the 29th consecutive year I have done so. I am really not looking forward to doing that race again. Still a good race, although I am tired of going up there and running the race. It has lost all its luster and is no longer any fun. I drive up the night before, sleep in my car from the face, and then come home.

I am also going to a nutritionist to find out why I gained weight even though I have monitored every little crumb I eat and assured myself I was at 1,800-2,200 Calories, nutritionally sound, and exercising at least 500 Calories a day. There may be an issue with long-term Prednisone and antibiotic use. I had read that they could create a digestive imbalance and goof up the metabolism. The only thing that makes sense is that I am not eating.

For 2013, I have decided to try again to achieve my goal of commuting on a bicycle at least 3000 miles to and from work. It depends on how I try to work; it is between 17.3 and 20.4 miles. Sometimes, the 20.4-mile ride is much easier when the wind is strong from the south.   17.3 miles is everything on main roads and not as safe.  The best ride for ease and safety when the wind is low is 17.8 miles.  So I need to ride 85-88 days.   Unlike last year when it was 70° on St. Patrick's Day, here we are in April, and we had snow on Friday. I will not get much of a jump on my goal for this year like I did last year. However, last year I missed the goal by 4 commutes. That was really kind of disheartening. Oh well, it happened!

My girlfriend and I decided to visit Colorado in early May. She will fly back after spending 3. I will spend an additional 6 days helping my son clean up and build a desk.  My son will take a trip to Europe after school is out and then return to a nice job for the summer. This will be the best time for me to spend some time with him before he goes and has a busy summer. While I am there, we'll look at new road bikes that I may get him so he can ride to work if he chooses. Right now, he uses my 1985 Cannondale SR 400 bicycle, which is in good shape but will not be as safe and dependable as a new road bike.

Shelley picked up a new bike.  It is so nice!   It is a women's Felt ZW4.  Shimano 105 components: I am looking forward to 60 miles of rides this summer.  She will do that without difficulty on this bike.  It just glides, and shifting is smooth.

It has been 15 months since I quit all tennis officiating.   I miss it occasionally, but overall, I don't miss the politics of sports officiating. It is really hard to do sports officiating when, at times, certain people's politics and favoritism come into play. Officiating is becoming a lost sport where you can depend on doing the right thing and not be ridiculed constantly.   

I will never do sports officiating again. I have been repeatedly asked to return to tennis and other sports, but it's not in me anymore. I did sports officiating because it made me feel good about what I was doing, and I enjoyed it. That went away, again, mostly because of the politics of a few people who think they are above the rules. In one way, sports officiating is losing out on someone with a great passion for it, but the ultra-running world is picking up somebody who enjoys volunteering and helping out at these wonderful races.

As mentioned above, I will see my sports nutritionist next week on Saturday. I will see the person for return visits for about 3 months. If she can't get me back on track, I don't think anybody else can.   I have not reached my peak, but I have gained 82 pounds since my lowest weight in 2006 when I completed the Superior Hiking Trail 50-mile race. I would like to lose about 60 pounds. It would make me feel so much better and happier. We can only wait and see what comes out of it.

As I close, Shelley is heartbroken.  The fifth love of her life tore his ACL.  Surgery is needed.  No, it is not me, as I know I am only 4th in her love hierarchy.  I understand her girls are one and two.  Her parents, three and four, Jackson, the post-divorce male in her heart, has a torn ACL.  It is a very expensive fix, but Jackson is her third love.  She has known Jackson longer than she has known me.  I am her fourth love and am very happy about that position!

Wish me well!  

Carry on my friends!  Carry on!

IT IS MY HOUSE

A few years ago, with the down economy, I decided to move in with my girlfriend. I pay her rent, which would be a wash in expense if I lived alone. So money for me did not matter. However, over a few years, I lost my identity. I no longer have things from life when my son and I lived alone. Now I have her and her daughter’s memories all over. I have her dishes (never let me unpack), colors, pictures, decor, and everything else. She says she wants me to feel comfortable and make it ours, but when she gets mad, she reminds me,” It’s my house.” She is right. I wonder why I waste my time!

In 2005, this same girl dumped me, and I met a very supportive female. We did not “date,” as I support the one-year rule. She was not self-centered and knew how to make a man feel good about himself. No sex was involved; she was just a woman who was happy with my natural actions and hers. She seemed to know what made me happy, naturally. Little things made a big difference. I lost almost 100 pounds, and life was GREAT! Then the girl who dumped me was dumped, and she came running back. Of course, I made the mistake of going back to her! Since then, her actions have made me feel bad about myself. She is the most difficult person to love! Maybe that is why I do not give up. But I feel like I should…

It is time for soul-searching. This is her place, where I live. It may be time to move on to a new place without her as part of my life. As she is correct, it is “her house,” and I am nothing but a renter. A healthy move may just be getting out of her life and house.

I bet you can tell I am a little miffed! I am beginning to understand why her ex-husband is an ex.

I got to work early today, and it looks like another 60-plus hour week. I hate my job. But as I said yesterday, I like only a little of anything! I want nice weather so I can at least bike. So I have a little thing to hope for as if there was not that little thing; what else is there?  Maybe medicine.  The perfect medicine for this is:

Carry on my friends, Carry on!