Twenty Fifth Anniversary

I was so helpless when I was alone
Just like a child scared of a storm
So naive but you believed
You're the woman who made a man out of me
Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night
I lie beside you in the moonlight
As you sleep I watch you breathe
How could someone so fragile
Give me so much strength
I feel I could move mountains
When you depend on me
I may not have the riches of a king
But in your arms I' m holding everything
I believe your all I need
Your the woman who makes a man out of me

You Ask Too Much!

Inks Lake was at the time my favorite trail to run, after all it was my daddy Mickey who told me reluctantly I could continue on the final two loops of six in my second 50 miler. I had just told him that my first 50 was the Jackson 5-0, which came the fabled reply" Why that ain't no 50 miler".  Mickey the next year passed on, and left his dynasty to Joe. Those were different times for a few of us. It took a year after that I decided even though I wouldn't enjoy or get to run that race again others might, so I became the "Go Guy".  That's when the friends I had came out to play and help, and basically give me all that had. Doug, and Shan, Misty, Margo, ran the aid stations. Rick was medical, Riggs took care of parking, Larry and Mark took this dumb idea of an aid station up a  half mile of mine gladly. Linda worked Mtn. Goat Hill out and back. Kyle was there but he wasn't doing electronic timing, races didn't use timing chips, that was only at road races. Joe and Joyce counted runners through the line. Bread Man Henderson won, and Jeff ran fending off Jim.The weather was cloudy and light rain on and off. The day after was a rain storm, yes loading all the gear on a 16 ft. trailer back to Austin. This was a time we had. Pre race lasagne dinner, and food all the way through. Everyone busted their ass for some nut brain idea, and everyone shared the fun and the laughter. I am forever grateful still.

The Puncher

It would be easy to just let an old dog just lie, but when he constantly comes around that tired ole beast gets back up, maybe just to see if it could play one more time for old time sake. He's going to push and shove, putting all matter of notions in your mind. When you thought it would be best to chuck in the last log to burn, that guy shows up with a cord of wood. I believe that's just the way he is, always willing, very giving, even when he'd rather have his own fun. There was no role model in growing up, he made himself his own, invented it, perfected it, and it does shine. Big shoulders that carry everyone else, and somehow seems to never lose endurance. No need to exemplify all the good friend virtues, because those are givens. I don't know what to say it is, but this guy is bigger than U.S. Steel. There are many things that effect and affect, but watch out for him, because off in your business  he wants to ride. Small wonder many that follow with him, needless to say, arthritic and decrepit  might that hound be, off that porch and wagging that tail will be.

Letting the Guard Down

Nine inches of rain fell within a two hour period, and water began to flow in the house. Open the side gates and the water flowed, but the waterfall still ran from the streets above us. Eventually we won, and nothing was lost, except her shoes that floated away somewhere. The night raged on and Boodini wore herself out, that by morning she just shutdown from the anxiety of the storm. Not a restful night, then it's a lot more of the same at work, leaking roofs, flooded offices, and it is Halloween. The kiddos in the hood look like they will have a great nite to bag a lot of free treats. It's all over now, the neighbor did so much decorating and so few showed, the extra bags of candy we didn't even need. Things look dull now on the street of the same.

That Ain't No 100 Miler

Finished 50 miles of Cactus Rose, seems like a fair distance on one of the best trails, at least in my opinion, in the great state of Texas. However this on the factual side is a DNF, or an underachiever , even though to most this is a rather long day covering ground at the park. It is a forgotten luxury when you are consumed with a demanding job, lot's of high maintenance with Boodini, to be able to sleep out under a blanket of a star filled sky. There is no phone ringing, just the quiet, and it is a well kept secret at the moment that this is a run of only 350 runners. Even though that even sounds like a large number, it is about as close to what the old days of ultras were like. There is no aid other than water and ice, the course is very well marked, so your left to your own devices, I have always been so. There is no big deal, you get to see running mates and make new ones. You are inspired by the natural beauty and the courage of hard running athletes, and yet everyone fits somewhere within this circle. If you can cover 100 miles on this terrain, you certainly contain something most special. Though this world of ultras have taken participation beyond comfortable limits, if you ever finish 100 miles now you are among a very small number of the tough willed, get it done, real deal desperadoes.

Wayne Webb I Need Your Help

For many weeks now on a running list there is a runner who targeted a goal race. He has gone on to describe his training, his mileage, his type of runs. He has gone on about his nutrition, hydration, shoes, he's even lined his shoes out on the living room table and left them out overnight to decide in the morning which one he will wear, complete with a picture to proof it. I figured his wife has to love that, she's not a runner. Then there was the taper before the race, what to do, what not to do. Then pictures of his drop bags, first the stuff laid out in neat piles on the floor, then packed in the tubs he explained he got a great deal on at Walmart. Tons of stuff, I thought about my first hundred, I was asked are you taking all that to eat or are you running?  He then began a science project growing stuff in a thermos to see after 24 hours how hot or cold in this case soup would remain, cause he sure liked soup at night. Then the lad starts talking about how is wife is quite upset about the expense of all the races  he has or might enter, and what to do about that. Now it is about nightmares he's having about the race itself, not staying on course, signing in and out, and what to do about that. He has remembered to address the running demons with taping positive messages in his drop bag lids, and notes to remember he is strong, determined and persevering. I really don't know what to make of it. I truly hope with all that's he's talked about to hundreds of folks he actually finishes that race.

Long Journey Home

 Worry and inconvenience was high on the agenda, after all we live north and to go south, not to mention the expense of lunch, why one thought it just wasn't fitting. What about parking, and of course what about the unforseen issues that might arise, might as well just hide underneath a stone. This is one sad sack. In this world for every rain storm there will be sunshine, sometimes a rainbow. Famous writer Tessa and Jay were plagued with the road detours for 45 minutes on the journey before progress was made. Dancer extraordinaire Bernadette and Gregorio made it to the cafe, so did Boodini's folks. There was no room in the inn, so we went to another down the block. Entertainment was at a premium with "Camilla", such an inspiring aria, or rather a corrido. We feasted on pleasantries and food and reminisced on many past occasions. Tycoon Jay picked up the tab. We hoped for the holiday cheer to once again bring us back into the fold of laughter and great karaoke fun. As everyone made their way to where they were headed, off I fled back to the asylum where  Giuseppe awaited, he had been to frightened of the demons that held him  to sneak away with me. As I gave him the praline wrapped in the napkin in our cell, I told him all understood his absence but wished he was able to come next time.