Funny Animal Photos

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Enjoy your weekend folks.

Until the next time
John Strain

When I Was Your Age. . .

I used to hear those words quite a bit when I was a tike. My dad would talk about how deep the snow was on his way to school; a trek of at least 20 miles. It seemed I had it made compared to when my folks were my age. I just could not grasp the emotion. I had no frame of reference, but I think I do now.

It only seems natural to compare yourself to whatever is in front of you. We all do it. If someone is talking about 6th grade, we recall our 6th grade memories and if there are glaring differences, we usually comment. One point of clarification, however, we usually only comment if our experience was found wanting compared to the experience being discussed. Parents feel compelled to make their children aware that life in the old days was a far cry from today. I guess it is an attempt to foster gratitude and to steer them away from taking things for granted.

Christmas is one time of the year you will hear these comments. With every neat toy opened by a wide-eyed tot, there is an adult there to tell said tot how that toy is to be appreciated because a long time ago, when he/she was a kid, they didn't have those.

I have done my share of letting my son know how lucky he is to have video games, computers, 10 zillion TV channels, and a cell phone.

Just for fun I thought I would predict what my son would someday be telling his son:

About college:
Son, when I was your age, I finished my degree in 8 years. At the rate you're going, it may take you 10 years.

About cell phones:
Do you realize I had to wait until I was 16 before I had my first cell phone and it couldn't take pictures or connect to the Internet either.

About video games:
Virtual reality! Why when I was your age, we had to use controllers to play games and they were connected to the console with a wire.

About school:
Shoot, I wish they had osmosis when I was a kid. We had to go to school and read books to learn, there wasn't any of this injecting knowledge into your bloodstream like they do now.

You probably get the idea. It is fun getting to play all of the ages in life. I had fun as a kid and as an adult; I am having even more fun. I think being old and senile will have its strong points as well.

Now where's that boy? I need to tell him what it was like when I was his age.

Until the next time
John Strain

An Evening at the River

My dog bear shows so much enthusiasm and joy I smile and laugh spontaneously. He watches my every move. It is as if he is waiting for the next fun thing. His river toy, a yellow chicken leg that squeaks when squeezed, was on the counter. As soon as he saw it in my hand, he began wiggling, jumping, and panting. His hopes were on high alert, but they went higher when I said, "Do you want to go swimming Bear?" His excitement grew even more when I picked up his red leash and headed for the door. Once outside, Bear was prancing and jumping. He kept his sparkling eyes on me and his ears were perked. I unlatched the tailgate on John's truck and before it was all the way down, Bear jumped as though powered by coiled spring legs. He would have cleared the tailgate even if I hadn't lowered it.

John drove and I rode in the back with Bear. It is only a mile to the river and the public boat launch. Once there, Bear jumped out of the truck and we walked to the water's edge. I threw the chicken leg and Bear stormed into the water like he was launched. It is so much fun to watch him perform. Watching him run and swim is like watching something that is perfect. He is doing exactly what he was meant for. He loves it and he is happiest when he is doing it. People at the boat launch pause and recognize this perfect thing.

Coming out of the water with the chicken leg in his mouth, Bear prances and high steps. A quick shake to jettison the water and he is quickly at my left side waiting for another throw. He does not seem to tire of this game.

When it is all over, Bear jumps back in the truck and we drive the short distance home. I rinse him off with the hose then have him hop back in the truck where I towel dry him. He especially likes this part. He just buries his face in the towel and rolls around while I try to dry him.

If you ever have the chance to make something this happy, do it. It is quite satisfying. To bring such happiness to another simply by tossing a plastic chicken leg in the river is itself a beautiful thing.

Until the next time
John Strain

Ultramarathon

By definition, an ultramarathon is any race beyond the distance of a marathon (26 miles 385 yards). I have run 9 marathons now and have 4 more in my sights. My coach has been asking me if I am ready to train for an ultra. I finally gave in, what the hell.

I have signed up for the Rocky Raccoon 50K (31 miles) October 22, 2005 at Huntsville State Park about 50 miles north of Houston.

I feel like I am moving from marijuana to heroin. The common ultramarathon distances are 50K, 100K, 50 mile, and 100 mile. There are other events that go across Death Valley, 135 miles. Some are timed races of 6, 12, and 24 hours.

Dean Karnazes wrote the book Ultramarathon Man: Confessions of an All Night Runner. This guy ran 262 miles in 3 days. No one has yet determined the limits of the human body.

For some reason, these sorts of challenges appeal to me. I now have a new quest. Oh goodie.

Until the next time
John Strain

Running the Goat Milk Marathon

Friday afternoon, Barb and I got off of work early. We drove the 3 hours to Vicksburg and met her Dad and step mom for an early dinner at Billy's Italian Restaurant. I was at first apprehensive due to the name; "Billy" did not sound like an Italian to me. Then I thought, "Billy - billy goat, this is a good omen." We were not disappointed. I had a pasta sampler complete with spaghetti and meatballs, lasagna, and manicotti. It also came with warm bread and a house salad. I was finished eating by 6:15 PM which is necessary for waking up at 4:00 AM and trying to lose the Italian food. One of the major concerns of a marathoner is getting to the starting line with an empty colon.

Photos of the Goat Milk Marathon

I was paranoid about over-sleeping so I had four alarms set. A wakeup call, the clock radio, my watch, and cell phone were all set to tell me when it was 4:00 AM. As it turned out, I kept waking up all night and didn't need any of them.

I began the marathon day ritual: First I made some coffee, stretched, went to the bathroom, shaved, Band-Aided my nipples, vasolined other parts of my body, got dressed, ate a banana, and headed for the race.

Barb's dad picked me up at 5:00 AM and we drove the 30 minutes to Utica from Vicksburg. It was a cool morning with fog and humidity. Temperatures were in the upper 60's and the damp air felt good blowing in from the car window as we traveled. Dawn was breaking and the country side had a surreal look with the dim light of dawn and the differing layers of fog. Cows in fields were in silhouette against the rising sun. It looked as though we were up even before the clouds as we caught them sleeping on the cool grasses of the meadows. New colors of orange, red, and purple were being introduced into the sky's palet with each passing minute. The sun was rising above the horizon to illuminate a beautiful spring morning in Mississippi.

The first order of business at the campground was to pickup my race packet. I walked to the table and told them my name and was met with, "Oh, the famous John Strain." I quickly began reviewing in my mind things I may have done to offend people. Then he said, "I loved your article about the course two weeks ago and I enjoy your blog." Throughout the day, whenever I told people my name, they seemed to know about me through the blog. I felt like a celebrity.

One last trip to the little boys room and I was ready for the start. As we lined up, a young man played the Jimi Hendrix rendition of Star Spangled Banner, then the race director, Don Curtis gave us a few last instructions. After he offered a sincere prayer, he started the race setting into motion a group of folks who find it fun to get up early on a Saturday morning to enjoy fellowship and to test the limits of their mind, body, and spirit.

I recently came across some quotes about running that describe the running experience for me:

It makes no sense in a world of space ships and supercomputers to run vast distances on foot. There is no money in it and no fame, frequently not even the approval of peers. But as poets, apostles and philosophers have insisted from the dawn of time, there is more to life than logic and common sense. The ultra runners know this instinctively. And they know something else that is lost on the sedentary. They understand, perhaps better than anyone, that the doors to the spirit will swing open with physical effort. In running such long and taxing distances they answer a call from the deepest realms of their being -- a call that asks who they are." -- David Blaikie, Ultramarathon Canada

From the Mississippi Track Club Website
Running is a road to self-awareness and self-reliance...
You can push yourself to extremes and learn the harsh reality of
your physical and mental limitations or coast quietly down a
solitary path watching the earth spin beneath your feet, but when
you are through, exhilarated and exhausted, at least for a moment
everything seems right with the world. -Anonymous

I felt pretty good at the start and I was running easy. Starting too quickly on a course like the Goat Milk in the heat is asking for it. I was running between an 8:00 and 8:30 pace. I fell in with a group of guys, Jerry, TK and another one who's name I cannot recall. We were running and talking as runners do. We regaled each other about our past races, trials, and injuries, sprinkled with information about our jobs and families. Runners share more than the common bond of running and these marathon course conversations point them out.

As we ran and the temperature rose, the hills began taking their toll. The early jovial conversation had changed to quiet and steeled resolve. It was now less of a community event and more of an individual trial. Each of us running with our thoughts, concentrating, wrestling the thoughts and the whispers inside our heads that tell us, "It is too hard, it is too hot, the hills are too steep. Instead we fight to hear the voice that is saying, "You can do it, it is not that bad, keep on running, just another mile until the rest stop."

The course was beautiful just like two weeks ago when I ran 21 of its miles. I especially enjoyed the stretches of road that were off of the main highway. These asphalt paths wind, rise, and fall with the contour of the land. The vegetation encroaches to its edges and gives the impression you are running in a tunnel of green. The only sounds you hear are birds, your breathing and your shoes contacting the pavement. Only a few vehicles passed the entire course.

The water stops were self-serve and spaced every two miles. They were welcome sights as the race unfolded. Along the side of the road a giant wooden spool served as a table that held two boxes of gallon jugs. One box held three jugs of Gatorade and the other held three jugs of water. At each stop, I drank a glass of Gatorade and poured a glass of water over my head to cool off. This strategy helped keep my thermostat from boiling over.

At the 20 mile mark, a message written on the road said: "The race starts here." I was hanging in there pretty well, but my fuel tank was getting low. 22, 23, and 24 went by OK, but I really had to gut out 25 and 26. I walked for 30 seconds three times in the last two miles. When I hit 26 I knew I only had to run for another 2 minutes. It is always a welcome sight to see the finish line. It was just over the last little hill.

I finished in 3:40:47 which is an 8:26 pace. Once finished I have to keep moving to avoid tightening up, so I walked a bit. There was a lot of good food, but I can't usually eat right after a marathon.

I felt good and had thoroughly enjoyed my Goat Milk Marathon experience. For a "no frills" marathon, this one delivered much more. I would give the course a high rank. It was difficult, but very pretty and the shade helped keep the heat down. It was also marked very well. The race was well organized and the aid stations provided what is needed. The best thing though was the friendly people who ran the race and volunteered to make it a good experience for the participants. The shirt they give is a good quality dri fit shirt with the unique, sure to start a conversation, Goat Milk Marathon logo.

I'll be back next year if someone hasn't gotten my goat.

Do you know the term: "Don't let them get your goat"?

Until the next time
John Strain