Boodini's Hangover

In the rush hour of life, a busted AC, and it is a 105, hot is my friend, and I'm Thinking Thankfully it's not 107. No one brought me breakfast in bed, asked me what I'm dealing with, in fact, everyone forgot life was all about me, so now I'll try Walking Humbly and fade into obscurity. Whining and whimpering about all the things that don't go my way has really taken a lot of weight and time, since everything seems so negative maybe I'll make stuff up and Speak Positively, that way I might come to believe it. My memory at my age plays tricks about what happened 18 years ago so I make things up to fill in the blanks whether it's true or not, cause yesterday is surely over with. I probably won't see tomorrow. I will Forget Continually, so I can fix today since that's all I have. What I did then, now, are choices that could effect what might, could, should happen if another day passes, Living Cleanly, fixing my thoughts on what is true, right, and admirable sure might be lighter to carry. My eyes are closed, and here I am living the dream. When I open those eyes the world should be a different place.

Circumstances

It's hot in Texas in the summer, and when you change a flat and you can't smile you have some pathetic cheeks. You yell at the window and tell the guy " what took so long, thought this was supposed to be fast food? Ten pair of running shoes isn't enough you need fifteen. It's a yoyo rotten life and you can never be happy because something or someone just pisses all over your cornflakes that your lazy friend wouldn't make for you. Traffic is terrible, you get to work and everyone wants stuff like yesterday. You try to sit at home and relax and darn if someone didn't over cook the popcorn. I told you to buy more beer and you didn't do it??? I hate doing laundry, you have to load the washer and then put it  in your dryer. Next thing what? You have go to the well for water? Don't have to light a fire but darn this ready made food is sure expensive. We haven't had rain for years so why does it have to rain on our party? At the end of the day, and the end of your life, on your  Tombstone is written " Here Lies the Biggest Waste of Time".

High Heel Cowboy Boots

Two weeks ago after 14 hours and covering 40 miles, from 4200ft to 9200 ft. and then hanging ten between 7000 / 9000 given a total of 18,000 gain and loss. That's Chinscraping in the Wasatch Front. So today with 6:55 hours and 31 miles living oxygen content at 1200ft.and only 4100 ft. up and down, the Lighthouse 50K in spite of the mud left from yesterday blessing of rain gave the old man a 3rd place age spot. Nevertheless it is a rottenly slow life running. Image a day when busting Mtn. runs crumbled away with staying atop one's game. Well, reality is now, and even though I suck, it still is great to get out and get some fresh air. It' s got me under pressure. In a few weeks Boodini will be tightening the tension in that leash, loping ears blown back wanting to break away from this slug. Trying to reach the zenith of flying high wearing her high heeled cowboy boots.

Slammin

Boodini has been holding her own. The limp, gimp, what have you, seems to be a bay. Longer runs are back , although there is caution in spacing these between the short distance. Now all this summer stuff focuses at the Donkey Dash and two weeks after it is time for Run for the Rovers, this is relatively 30 days away. At 8 years of age she will go against the younger herd, and that is what life is all about. Nevertheless it is a good time and hopefully there will be no injury to be had. It would be interesting to see her perform at Run Like the Wind, but she is busy lending me assistance as a volunteer. Those three races for a canine is a worthy challenge, and the "Dog Slam".

Madeleine

It  is a large reason to go. There is a connection underlining your entrance and you remember. It has been many years, and seeing an old friend after all this time is joyful. You sit and talk, reminisce, and          peace takes over. There are many times that things could have been done differently, but it is forgiven. Nothing can change that. No matter how ugly. Mercy is always given. This is the proof that it remains open always. The precious gem is given to you whenever you ask. For a very brief time the splendor of
such can help calm and initiate a focus above what seems to have no answer. In that brief element of clearness all can be understood. That is why. Can it be found somewhere other than here. For that particular moment, this is the best part. It remains, until you enter once again, but you always remember. Maybe tomorrow, tomorrow.

All Heaven

Midnight and no sleep till Brooklyn, the night before the race midnight again wide awake, at least rising was 2:30am not dawn. It was a fear and doubt knocking, maybe eight years before the subconscious letting me know about the incessant climbs at 9000+ ft, and no hill repeats had been done. It was the perfect race, can't remember ever having one. Fueling the machine worked, hydration on a hot day in check, drop bags, everything except time and movement, but they were no burden. Atop the Wasatch for miles of view nothing but mountains, glorious and heavenly. Nothing else mattered. This is why you do this. The time at Francis Peak was an hour over where I needed to be, but that didn't matter, it was good to be just as it was. Up and down, more of the same, the panoramic scene just shifted from ridge to trail. If you want to do the tough races and finish them everything must be done, and there is no better place to start than with doing the time and discipline to accomplish the crime. Time to get her done!