A Peaceful Day

Man, my stomach was killing me yesterday. It was that hurt that feels like your stomach just needs a good, loud gurgle. One of my favorite words, borborygmus, is the technical term for a stomach gurgle. It was a Word of the Day a few years back and it just stuck in my vocabulary. My stomach was borborygmussing quite a bit back then, as I was quite fat.

I never did get to the bottom of that stomach pain. I thought I would surely (pardon my French, ladies) rip a devastating fart and it would be all over with. As it approached Live on the Lake race time, I started to get nervous. Running brings out the gas in everyone, but it's no time to be gambling with a borborygmussy stomach. One slip could be very embarassing and I'd be bolting for the lake.

I didn't slip. In fact, once I got into it the stomach pain went away. I think it may have had something to do with the power kayaking I did the evening before; more of a muscle pain than gas.

---

Race Report

Last night's LotL race was my chance to try out a new approach. That approach was simple, but could prove to be very helpful in achieving better times. Now you're dying to know what that approach was, aren't you? Aren't you? Yeah, I'm telling you it's real simple, so simple in fact that you'd think to yourself "Duh, that's obvious you moron". So anyway, last night I was going to try out running faster.

I told you it was simple and obvious. On Sunday I realized that I don't really change anything when I race. My regular runs are at a slower pace since I usually have something to do afterwards. In a race, the object isn't to "leave a lot of gas in the tank" but rather to "run faster than other people" or "run faster than you did last time". At the end of Sunday's race I had enough energy to sprint up the last hill, energy which would have been better put to use by just running a little faster the whole time. So last night I used my stopwatch to keep tabs on my min/mile and pushed myself to go faster - and it worked. I crossed the finish line in about 15 sec/mile faster than my normal time, and 30 sec/mile faster than the first race. Unfortunately a handful of local fast guys showed up so I placed 7th, my worst placement yet. But a personal record, so who cares (6:45 min/mile for those who care).

---

No-Show Contingency Plan

CPG didn't show up again, as she was apparently held up at work. I called her back after the race to let her have it, but couldn't figure out how to navigate their phone system, then got the voicemail on her mobile. I'm guessing she was working late because I never heard back. So instead I went kayaking with my running/kayaking cronies. One woman had finally received her custom, special ordered racing kayay and they were taking her out for it's maiden voyage.

Two nights ago I was out on Stockbridge Bowl doing a practice race for The Josh, when I saw one of the most beautiful sunsets ever. I had my camera but was timing myself so I didn't stop to take pictures. Last night I was back out there again and had an even better experience (but no camera). I'll explain...

---

Even Better Experience Explanation

When I pulled up to the parking area at Stockbridge Bowl, there was a group congregating under the trees. They had funeral-esque music playing and were standing around some framed pictures in what I can only assume was a memorial service of some sort. I made sure to show the proper reverence as I walked past them to use the Port-o-Potty. I felt really bad about whizzing so close to a memorial service - especially in a plastic Johnny-on-the-Spot where the whole thing echoes with the sound of pee - but I really had to go. And you know with those things that once you disturb the "blue stuff" you can smell that flowery Port-o-John juice for hours. It wasn't my fault, the cool evening air and sound of waves crashing on the shore was working overtime on my bladder.

That wasn't the good part.

The coordinator had hired a bagpipist (bagpiper? bagpipateur?) to play at the end of the service, which perfectly coincided with the setting of the sun. I don't know if they planned it that way or not, but that's how it worked out. So as the sun was closing in on it's final moments in the sky, we sat floating in the middle of the lake, the sun setting behind the mountains, a warm summery breeze blowing in from portside, being serenaded by a bagpipe. Four words, friends: The Summer of Todd.

---

Then, to top it all off I went home, had some dinner and got a fire going in the fireplace. I wanted to watch Wednesday Night Fights, but that had been preempted by some crap ass baseball game. Instead, I stumbled upon a showing of Pink Floyd's Pulse performance from the early 90's. We had that on tape in college and it was awesome. So I sat there by the fire watching Pink Floyd and just sank into my recliner, a cat perched on my lap. This was not how I planned to spend my evening, but I have no complaints.

Which brings me to my next point. So far The Summer of Todd has been really working out in my favor. I've been just doing stuff and seeing where it takes me. Some things I don't want to do, but I do them anyway and for the most part it's worked out wonderfully. I have two more things I'd like to check off my list before the summer's over, but I won't be devastated if I don't. That's how TSoT works, there are no plans/goals/expectations and as a result there's no reason to be unhappy with how it turns out. Check and check.

That's all I got.

Over and Out,
Old Coot