Coot, Big Dogs and Attack Fish

Good morning and happy Saturday to my friendly neighborhood Coot Fans. I was up at the ass crack of dawn this morning to join The Fast Guys in Richmond. I almost bagged the run and was going to use my recent digestional difficulties as an excuse. I know for a fact that it wouldn't impact me at all, but I was grasping at straws at 5:30 this AM.

Four minutes after my alarm went off, my watch alarm reiterated that I had to get up. I use the second alarm to remind myself that it's Saturday and getting up early doesn't mean work, it means running. So I hauled my bones out of bed, pounded some Gatorade, ate some yogurt and got ready to go. The heavy fog made navigation just a little more difficult which was ideal because I had never driven to this place before. I had passengered many times, always from the back seat and always soaking up the beautiful countryside. Never did I pay a lick of attention to which roads we traveled.

As I showed up there was a good crowd already waiting. They were anxious to get moving, so I didn't get much of a chance to hang out beforehand. I won't bore you all with details other than to say not only did I keep up, but I lead the pack for a while. Suh-weet! We went kind of slow anyway, but faster than I would have gone on my own. If the guy with a broken collarbone hadn't added an extra handful of miles to his own run I would have said I kept up with the big dogs pretty well. He's gung-ho, so I'll let him have his extra miles.

Plans for the Day

I have a barbecue this afternoon way the hell out in Windsor at the JC mansion. While it isn't mandatory that I bring something, I figured I could whip up some tasty (read: calorie laden) dessert to bring. I also have to pick up some lumber for JO's picnic table. That's gonna have to get cut today before the BBQ so I can head out to his place tomorrow to hopefully finish up that project. There's a race in the Albany area that I would really like to run (a 15k trail run), but if I try to do that AND the picnic table I'll end up half-assing both. And by Albany area, I mean somewhere in NY.

How My Mother Ruined Nature for Me

When I was a kid we used to take our vacations at a fishing camp way WAY up in Canada. The drive was horrendous, but it was so worth it. We spent everyday fishing off the dock, swimming, waterskiing, tubing and of course roasting marshmallows at night. Those were some fantastic vacations.

The first year I was swimming out to the floating dock (the first day) and about halfway out my mother yells "Hurry, I can see the fish nibbling at your toes". I don't think I touched the water the rest of the way out. That settled it, they were going to have to send a boat out for me. There was no chance in hell I was going to swim back with fish like that in the water. She later admitted that she hadn't seen fish biting at me, but the idea was already in my head. Eventually I was able to go back into the water, but it was some time before I was able to swim without worrying about losing a toe to a pissed off bass.

Ever since then, I have had a fear of natural bodies of water. I'm constantly on the lookout for anything that might touch my feet such as fish, dead fish, seaweed, zombies, a stick, air bubbles and more recently beavers. My kayak expeditions have been no exception to this fear either. As far as I know, both fish and beavers would like nothing better than to leap out of the water into my boat and just jack me up. Deer too, I saw some deer in the water one day and I know for certain there were more just aching to creep up on me and unleash the Dogs of War. Fortunately for me, their cover was blown and they were forced to retreat back into the woods. I'm on to you, you bastards.

Well, it's time for the Old Coot to clean himself up and start working on my baking/woodworking chores. I'd like to chill out at some point too, but I might have to save that for the BBQ.

Over and Out,
Old Coot