<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:53:17.335-05:00</updated><category term='Thomas Jefferson'/><category term='Frito Pie'/><category term='Rare Earth'/><category term='Runners World'/><category term='excuse'/><category term='guilt'/><category term='weightlifting'/><category term='penguin'/><category term='stretch'/><category term='Fort Worth'/><category term='Nike'/><category term='inspiration'/><category term='neighborhood'/><category term='Top 10 running songs'/><category term='relax'/><category term='5K'/><category term='Mexican food'/><category term='Santa Claus'/><category term='non-runner'/><category term='legs'/><category term='Victory Over Violence 5K'/><category term='Austin Motorola Marathon'/><category term='pace'/><category term='flu'/><category term='favorite running songs'/><category term='fartleks'/><category term='YMCA'/><category term='Danny Glover'/><category term='&apos;70s'/><category term='Winston Churchill'/><category term='monotony'/><category term='the wall'/><category term='walking'/><category term='TV'/><category term='Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way?'/><category term='Bruce Springsteen'/><category term='pavement'/><category term='Amby Burfoot'/><category term='Keller'/><category term='Kenya'/><category term='humid'/><category term='Isaiah'/><category term='wife'/><category term='dog'/><category term='elliptical'/><category term='MS 150 Bike Tour'/><category term='Monday'/><category term='Born to Run'/><category term='rain'/><category term='PR'/><category term='arms'/><category term='cold'/><category term='IPod'/><category term='dessert'/><category term='treadmill'/><category term='The Complete Guide to Running'/><category term='windy'/><category term='daughter #2'/><category term='madder &apos;n hell'/><category term='Cowtown Marathon'/><category term='cross country'/><category term='middle-age'/><category term='hot'/><category term='teenager'/><category term='Port Arthur'/><category term='running outdoors'/><title type='text'>Run, George. Run!</title><subtitle type='html'>Whining, complaining and, with any luck at all, celebrating my return to running</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-4231299705528735339</id><published>2008-04-13T18:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T19:06:02.465-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenager'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Victory Over Violence 5K'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='middle-age'/><title type='text'>Victory Over Violence 5K: 'Patience, hell . . .'</title><content type='html'>During my first job out of college, one of my (many) bosses had a cartoon in his planner, that featured two vultures sitting on a tree limb. One looks to the other and said, 'Patience, hell. Let's go kill something.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last post, I mentioned something about becoming a walker, and I may have said something earlier about my company being a sponsor of the Women's Shelter Victory Over Violence 5K and that I thought I should participate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, during one of my walks, a runner zipped past me. I didn't feel compelled to chase the runner down, but I did decide that I would run in the VOV 5K and not walk. I haven't run in months, but . . . well, patience, hell . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran-walked my way to a 32:55 finish (no chips, my watch), which is just eight seconds slower than last year's time of 32:47, when I trained for about a couple of months. In 2005, I ran the 5K in 34:20, but I don't remember how much I trained. I just remember being hot and fat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, patience aside, I took off in a confident lope (after taking two minutes to walk up to the starting line) and zipped around lines of chatting walkers. I completed my first mile in 9:45, and I started one-minute walks around 12-14 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question arises: how can you run the first mile in slightly less than 10 minutes, then slow to a run-walk and still finish at about a 10 1/2 minute pace? About 1/4 mile before the finish, the VOV course, which winds through Fort Worth's Trinity Park, takes a sharp right toward the finish line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the turn, I jokingly asked a college student who was directing runners if I was in the lead, and he just looked confused (hope he's not a pre-med student). I always accelerate when I see the finish line, and when I did, I heard corresponding footsteps to my right. I pick up my pace, and he picks up his pace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I glance to the side and see that it's a teenage boy, and testosterone-induced second-wind kicks in. He and I are racing to the finish line, and I'm thinking that I can beat him with a strong finish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the question that crosses every middle-aged man's mind during strenuous activity came up: Are you nuts!? At 52, it's difficult to tell whether you're pushing your body to its limits . . . or you're getting ready to have a heart attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He eased by me about 20 yards from the finish line, and I thought I could push a little harder to catch and pass him. Then I questioned my sanity and let him go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping he was tired and had to go take a nap, but I probably should've thanked him for pushing me to a strong finish and a time, with no recent training, close to last year's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll return to walking (I've really enjoyed it), but I'm sure there'll be some evenings when a runner will pass me, and I'll look up the sidewalk and mutter, 'Patience, hell. Let's go kill something.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-4231299705528735339?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/4231299705528735339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=4231299705528735339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/4231299705528735339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/4231299705528735339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2008/04/victory-over-violence-5k-patience-hell.html' title='Victory Over Violence 5K: &apos;Patience, hell . . .&apos;'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-3668054930110284815</id><published>2008-03-30T14:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T14:22:41.295-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Victory Over Violence 5K'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='neighborhood'/><title type='text'>Change of Pace</title><content type='html'>I'm thinking about becoming a walker. If you've read any of my previous posts, you can probably tell how hard it is for to stick to a running program. We have a really nice neighborhood for walking (a lot of trails and parks), so I can pick up for a 30-45 minute walk and carry on without looking like I've been for a swim (and smelling like I've been hiding in a gym locker). Plus, with the cost of gasoline, it'll be nice to wrap up my walk at the neighborhood grocery, or the Y, or the donut shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Women's Center Victory Over Violence 5-K is in a couple of weeks, and I think I can run a 5-K without having to dial 9-1-1. I'm registered (our company is a sponsor), so I'll be there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-3668054930110284815?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/3668054930110284815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=3668054930110284815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/3668054930110284815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/3668054930110284815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2008/03/change-of-pace.html' title='Change of Pace'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-4216745948492146142</id><published>2008-03-05T22:54:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T23:16:06.064-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guilt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='treadmill'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspiration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='YMCA'/><title type='text'>Post-Flu Trudging; Inspiration</title><content type='html'>I've run four times during the past week and feel pretty good . . . now. Last Monday was the first run since the flu (I had a cough that hung around for another week or so), and I felt like I was rumbling/trudging/weaving/gasping my way through the waddle. Now, I'm back to where I left off pre-flu, at two minutes walking and eight minutes running, maybe not quite as fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may not be a good runner, but I look kind of like a runner, at least a big runner . . . long and sort of lean with a pretty fluid motion on the treadmill. Last night, I was running next to a lady who was just beginning an exercise program; and if I guessed, I'd say she was about 5'4" and around 250 pounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could tell that there was some discomfort on her part, not from the exercise, but from:&lt;br /&gt;1) walking next to someone who looks like a runner&lt;br /&gt;2) glancing at her lean, muscular husband/boyfriend working out near a very attractive blonde, former college softball player&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pretty impressed when she cranked up her treadmill to run for a short while, then slowed back to walk, then cranked it back up again, then returned to walking. I don't think that was her plan; I just think she felt like running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inspiration sometimes comes in odd forms, and I am truly inspired by women like her. I see them a lot at the Y, and I have to ask myself, somebody who looks like a runner, although a big runner: How do these ladies, who are at a stage where they have minimal physical strengths and abilities, keep pushing themselves; while I whine and quit when a little sweat builds up or I get bored on the treadmill?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guilt is a powerful motivator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best of luck, lady-I-ran-next-to. And don't worry about the blonde. I know her. She'll push around more weight than your man, and he'll come sneaking back to our side of the gym.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-4216745948492146142?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/4216745948492146142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=4216745948492146142' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/4216745948492146142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/4216745948492146142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2008/03/post-flu-trudging-inspiration.html' title='Post-Flu Trudging; Inspiration'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-8633316397310416413</id><published>2008-02-03T22:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T22:49:24.960-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cowtown Marathon'/><title type='text'>Out of the Mouths of Babes</title><content type='html'>While my wife and I are watching the Super Bowl, my younger daughter is looking at the newspaper and sees something about Cowtown. She asks if I'm running in Cowtown, and I tell her that the flu has really gotten in the way of my training. She looks at the Cowtown date in the newspaper and then at me, and says, 'You have 20 days.' Hmmmm?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-8633316397310416413?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/8633316397310416413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=8633316397310416413' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/8633316397310416413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/8633316397310416413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2008/02/out-of-mouths-of-babes.html' title='Out of the Mouths of Babes'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-2672959859896453148</id><published>2008-01-30T21:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T21:13:48.923-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='excuse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='treadmill'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pavement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cowtown Marathon'/><title type='text'>What's a Runner to Do?</title><content type='html'>I've missed a couple of weeks of running now. Last week, I was feeling way to heavy, mostly as a result of a overeating and a busy schedule with not enough time to work out. This week, I have the flu and, in the words best said with a thick Texas accent, I'm feeling puny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Cowtown 5K is February 23, and I'd better get back to pounding the pavement . . . or treadmill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unless, of course, I can think of another excuse to convince myself not to run . . . my wife is right. I am SO easy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-2672959859896453148?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/2672959859896453148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=2672959859896453148' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/2672959859896453148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/2672959859896453148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2008/01/whats-runner-to-do.html' title='What&apos;s a Runner to Do?'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-2869629469748637374</id><published>2008-01-16T21:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T21:58:11.136-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='treadmill'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cowtown Marathon'/><title type='text'>The Joy of the Treadmill</title><content type='html'>I have found a reason to love the treadmill . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I was trudging along at my 10-minute pace on a treadmill adjacent to a rabbit cruising at his 'relaxed' 7-minute pace. But the absolute best part -- I never lost a single step on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've told one of the owners of our firm, a marathoner, that I'm running in the Cowtown 5K next month. Guess I better, huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-2869629469748637374?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/2869629469748637374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=2869629469748637374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/2869629469748637374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/2869629469748637374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2008/01/joy-of-treadmill.html' title='The Joy of the Treadmill'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-1968111819493902316</id><published>2008-01-07T22:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T23:13:47.769-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Top 10 running songs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&apos;70s'/><title type='text'>My Top 10 Running Songs</title><content type='html'>Some cyber-magic toy tied to my blog tells me what key words visitors used to arrive here (no worry; that's about all it tells me), and one of the most popular is the phrase 'best running songs.' I've noticed in other blogs that everybody has their favorite running songs, so here, in no particular order, is my Top 10 (and, like me, they are so '70s):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Johnny B. Goode -- Chuck Berry&lt;br /&gt;- After Midnight -- Eric Clapton&lt;br /&gt;- Everybody's Everything -- Santana&lt;br /&gt;- Foot-Stompin' Music - Grand Funk Railroad&lt;br /&gt;- Born to Be Wild -- Steppenwolf&lt;br /&gt;- Sweet Hitchhiker -- Creedence Clearwater Revival&lt;br /&gt;- Radar Love -- Golden Earring&lt;br /&gt;- Rock and Roll -- Led Zeppelin&lt;br /&gt;- Born to Run -- Bruce Springsteen&lt;br /&gt;- Gonna Fly Now (theme from Rocky) -- Bill Conti (we all gotta dance at the top of those steps)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The all have a strong beat that DRIVEs me. Honorable mention includes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Run Through the Jungle -- Creedence Clearwater Revival&lt;br /&gt;- Theme from Shaft -- Isaac Hayes (I wish this was the theme music that played whenever I walked into a room)&lt;br /&gt;- Crazy on You -- Heart&lt;br /&gt;- Another One Bites the Dust -- Queen&lt;br /&gt;- Call Me the Breeze -- Lynyrd Skynyrd&lt;br /&gt;- Looking for a Hero -- Bonnie Tyler&lt;br /&gt;- Saturday's All Right for Fighting -- Elton John&lt;br /&gt;- Hot Rod Lincoln -- Commander Cody and the Lost Planet Airmen&lt;br /&gt;- Beer Drinkers and Hell Raisers -- ZZ Top&lt;br /&gt;- Smoke on the Water -- Deep Purple&lt;br /&gt;- I'm a Man -- Chicago*&lt;br /&gt;- Money for Nothing -- Dire Straits*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* these two start off slow, and I have a tendency to slow down with them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't say I didn't warn you. It's elevator music at 'the home.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-1968111819493902316?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/1968111819493902316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=1968111819493902316' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/1968111819493902316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/1968111819493902316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-top-10-running-songs.html' title='My Top 10 Running Songs'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-7168701480624939068</id><published>2008-01-07T22:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T22:43:20.858-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='treadmill'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='running outdoors'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fort Worth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wife'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter #2'/><title type='text'>A Beautiful Day for a Run!</title><content type='html'>We're enjoying spring-like weather here in Fort Worth, and today was absolutely beautiful. I even left work early to be able to run outside before it got dark. I've only been running on the treadmill, so this was a real treat; but there were some things I forgot:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Spring-like weather means wind, lots of it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Outdoors means hills; my calves may need more work than the treadmill offers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Outdoors and spring-like weather also means bugs; I think I swallowed one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt great when I was done. This was one of those runs that makes you a believer in the magic of endorphins. I was goofily dancing in the kitchen while fixing dinner; my wife and younger daughter just gawked and shook their heads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really excited about the Cowtown 5K. I think it's time for a PR (which, in my case, won't be tough to set, but that's okay; it'll be a PR).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-7168701480624939068?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/7168701480624939068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=7168701480624939068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/7168701480624939068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/7168701480624939068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2008/01/beautiful-day-for-run.html' title='A Beautiful Day for a Run!'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-2190326375804946084</id><published>2008-01-01T23:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T23:54:08.131-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cowtown Marathon'/><title type='text'>Cowtown 2008</title><content type='html'>Okay. All right, already. The Fort Worth Star-Telegram is now running a series of articles on how easy it is to spend the next eight weeks preparing for the Cowtown Marathon's 5K. Looks like I'm stuck. Run is February 23.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-2190326375804946084?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/2190326375804946084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=2190326375804946084' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/2190326375804946084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/2190326375804946084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2008/01/cowtown-2008.html' title='Cowtown 2008'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-327280755242173076</id><published>2007-12-29T16:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T22:08:36.010-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='treadmill'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way?'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IPod'/><title type='text'>Time for a Change</title><content type='html'>About 26 minutes into a 30-minute run last night on the dreadmill (aptly named by my triathlete friend Clay), my iPod pulls up Pat Green and Cory Morrow singing &lt;em&gt;Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way?&lt;/em&gt; It had been a pretty good run: I was walking two minutes and running for eight and had been adjusting my pace from 10-8:30 minute miles, which ranges from my normal pace to significantly faster than my flabby, old legs carry me. I was pretty pooped and planned to slow the pace back to 10-10:14.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way?&lt;/em&gt; begins with a hard, almost-angry guitar strumming, and the first verse ends with:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We've been the same way for years&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We need to change&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting thought for someone who regularly asks if this is going to get any easier or wonders why he never gets any faster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, Pat and Cory (and Hank and Waylon). For the last four minutes of my run, I pushed the pace to 8:30 and down to about 7:45. For those rabbits among you, that's cruising for me. I feel good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-327280755242173076?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/327280755242173076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=327280755242173076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/327280755242173076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/327280755242173076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/time-for-change.html' title='Time for a Change'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-7675799982929136531</id><published>2007-12-23T23:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-23T23:48:26.058-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Monday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dessert'/><title type='text'>Monday Morning Hangover</title><content type='html'>What's the yield for a recipe of pecan sandies? How many servings? How about those peanut butter things dipped in chocolate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife and daughter LOVE to prepare desserts for the holiday. I'm not a big fan of the peanut butter things, but being a good dad/husband, I'll eat them. BUT I LOVE pecan sandies. Whatever the yield is, take away the three that I shared with my daughter and the two for my wife, and that's what I ate during the last couple of days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM NOT excited about tomorrow morning's run.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-7675799982929136531?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/7675799982929136531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=7675799982929136531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/7675799982929136531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/7675799982929136531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/monday-morning-hangover.html' title='Monday Morning Hangover'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-4090665145076940141</id><published>2007-12-17T20:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T21:08:17.683-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='favorite running songs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Born to Run'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bruce Springsteen'/><title type='text'>Best of Best of Running Songs</title><content type='html'>Every runner has his/her favorite running songs, and most of us old guys include the Boss' &lt;em&gt;Born to Run&lt;/em&gt; near the top of our lists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the very best of the best of running songs has to be about three minutes into Born to Run. The music's hit a crescendo, there a brief pause, then Bruce counts -- shift into overdrive -- &lt;em&gt;1 . . 2 . . 3 . . 4,&lt;/em&gt; there's a drum roll (pick up the pace again), then, almost like a shove in your back, The Big Man, Clarence Clemons, brings everyone (better pick up your pace again) in with his sax:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The highway's jammed with broken heroes&lt;/em&gt; (but not me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;on a last chance power drive&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everybody's out on the run tonight&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but there's no place left to hide&lt;/em&gt; (no place to hide because I'm in the lead)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoo! I had a good run tonight. Can you tell?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-4090665145076940141?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/4090665145076940141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=4090665145076940141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/4090665145076940141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/4090665145076940141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/best-of-best-of-running-songs.html' title='Best of Best of Running Songs'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-560935009584531224</id><published>2007-12-16T20:42:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T20:59:38.761-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='treadmill'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monotony'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weightlifting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='YMCA'/><title type='text'>Ain't Nothing But a Hound Dog</title><content type='html'>(sorry Elvis)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally I run on the YMCA's treadmill at night; so, with the indoor lights behind me and the darkness outside, I see my own reflection in the window ahead of me. Today I ran mid-afternoon and watch the world pass by, just like my dog would do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt like my dog, just hanging out on a Sunday afternoon watching the traffic go by. I found myself looking left and following a car until it passed out of my site on the right. I watched cars pull fill up with gas and wait and wait and wait until traffic passed to get back on the main road. And I watched the Wal-Mart parking lot and those drivers who will wait five minutes to get a parking spot instead of walking an additional 30 seconds from a spot farther from the store. All in all, it was a pretty exciting run (?). At least I didn't let the dog thing get carried away and chase any cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm making progress on getting back into running shape, although I'm a little frustrated that I'm not greyhound graceful yet (I think I'll be in the hound-dog stage for awhile). I'm up to the 3 minutes walking / 7 minutes running for 30 minutes, and probably will bump that up to 2 minutes / 8 minutes by the end of the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I ran outside, I'd probably be running the entire 30 minutes, but I hate running on treadmills, so the beginner's walking/running split is perfect for breaking up the run-killing treadmill monotony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A SIDE NOTE: In the past year, I've really improved my weightlifting, especially my benchpress. I'm up to about three sets of 12 repetitions with 225 pounds, so my chest is significantly bigger. So . . .  where do I buy a manly bra? I'm not accustomed to running and having to counterbalance bouncing boobs!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-560935009584531224?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/560935009584531224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=560935009584531224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/560935009584531224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/560935009584531224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/aint-nothing-but-hound-dog.html' title='Ain&apos;t Nothing But a Hound Dog'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-3978269340272533178</id><published>2007-12-13T20:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T21:10:28.755-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Port Arthur'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thomas Jefferson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cold'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relax'/><title type='text'>Junior High Running Advice</title><content type='html'>One of the best bits of running advice I ever received was on my one (yes, one) day of football tryouts in 8th grade. I eavesdropped on two coaches as they watched a classmate, Harris White, run 50-yard sprints. Harris was a black kid whose running style was very relaxed, most noticeably, his palms open instead of fists clenched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole concept of more relaxed running, beginning with 'non-contributing' body parts like hands, shoulders, jaw, has hung with me through 30+ years of on-again-off-again running. Of course, my running style has been so relaxed that my incredibly slow pace is compared to the soap, &lt;em&gt;Days of Our Lives&lt;/em&gt; . . . like sands through the hourglass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it has been interesting as I take one more shot at running, this time beginning on the treadmill (I HATE COLD . . . or HOT . . . even COOL and WARM), because I can see myself in the reflection of the window at the Y. I'm able monitor my hands, almost flapping them to keep from making fists, and my shoulders, working hard to push them down off my ears. Unfortunately, if I don't pay enough attention to my feet, I tend to list to one side and fall off the treadmill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I ever see Harris again, I would like to thank him for a running style that makes me at least feel like I'm running fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if Harris played football in high school. He was really fast, and I'm pretty sure he ran track. Thomas Jefferson's football teams (in Port Arthur, before I offend anyone) were REALLY bad in the early to mid-70s, so I kind of doubt if his speed had been tapped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A slightly different perspective on Junior High Running Advice at: &lt;a href="http://georgesfrontporch.blogspot.com/2007/12/junior-high-running-advice-ii.html"&gt;http://georgesfrontporch.blogspot.com/2007/12/junior-high-running-advice-ii.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-3978269340272533178?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/3978269340272533178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=3978269340272533178' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/3978269340272533178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/3978269340272533178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/junior-high-running-advice.html' title='Junior High Running Advice'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-5156063424655090963</id><published>2007-12-13T20:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T20:08:02.225-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='treadmill'/><title type='text'>And your momma, too!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Originally published December 4, 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that treadmill had a butt, I would've kicked it! Yessssssss . . .  good run.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-5156063424655090963?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/5156063424655090963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=5156063424655090963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/5156063424655090963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/5156063424655090963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/and-your-momma-too.html' title='And your momma, too!'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-620444718652070557</id><published>2007-12-13T20:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T20:06:56.253-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Austin Motorola Marathon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='treadmill'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='YMCA'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the wall'/><title type='text'>Like a ton of bricks</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Originally published December 1, 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened!? Felt so good after my last run . . . headed to the treadmill at the Y this afternoon and hit the wall after about three steps (at least it took me about 17 miles in the Austin Motorola Marathon). Not sure if the ton bricks refers to the wall that fell on me or the post-Thanksgiving mass I'm trucking around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-620444718652070557?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/620444718652070557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=620444718652070557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/620444718652070557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/620444718652070557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/like-ton-of-bricks.html' title='Like a ton of bricks'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-8118972323455734857</id><published>2007-12-13T20:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T20:05:16.395-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='treadmill'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='legs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='arms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kenya'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='YMCA'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Runners World'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nike'/><title type='text'>Just like the Kenyans</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;First published November 29, 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight's run was AWESOME (okay, tonight's walk for two minutes, run for four was pretty good). A couple of years ago, I read in Runners World about the Kenyans' running style. What I remember most (okay, only) is that they hold their arms a little higher, which increases their forward lean and improves their speed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been working on the treadmill at the Y, trying to get back into running, and I'm working on holding my arms higher. I've always run with my arms hung low and relaxed, so this is a little different (and tough to remember to do . . . especially at my age). When I do hold my arms higher, I can feel my pace smooth out (I'd tell that I'm running faster, too, except that I've been on a treadmill), but I haven't been able to sync my arms and legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOWEVER, there have been some moments of BRILLANCE, when my arms are held high and they're right in sync with my legs and my lungs, and there's my fiercest competitor just ahead and my wife and kids are cheering, my friends have the beer cooled to 29 degrees and the finish line is just ahead (and Nike's looking for a new endorsement) and . . . well, you know the rest of the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just moved up to the 2/4 repetitions, but feel pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking forward to picking up the pace in the next week.So, bring on the cheetahs and zebras!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-8118972323455734857?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/8118972323455734857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=8118972323455734857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/8118972323455734857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/8118972323455734857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/just-like-kenyans.html' title='Just like the Kenyans'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-5392381649192877556</id><published>2007-12-13T20:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T20:02:44.245-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='treadmill'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='non-runner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='YMCA'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wife'/><title type='text'>Starting Over (again)</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Originally published November 9, 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Starting all over again is gonna be tough' . . . who sang that way back in the day (what a time to refer to as 'the day' . . . ugh!)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ran last night on the treadmill at the Y . . . 30 minutes, 3 walking, 3 running. Felt REALLY good, but sure was sore this morning (what happened?). Seem to be over the groin/ab injury, but I probably shouldn't push it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep telling my wife -- the non-runner -- that I want to start running again . . . she asks 'why?' Any good answers?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-5392381649192877556?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/5392381649192877556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=5392381649192877556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/5392381649192877556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/5392381649192877556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/starting-over-again.html' title='Starting Over (again)'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-4409159113179096561</id><published>2007-12-13T19:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T20:00:43.467-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Santa Claus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='excuse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cross country'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='elliptical'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='YMCA'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TV'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='5K'/><title type='text'>But I'm sick and have a temperature</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Originally published June 6, 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the days of three TV channels (four if you could get PBS), 'I'm sick and have a temperature' was the tag line delivered by a semi-faking kid for a sure-fire remedy commercial. That's probably what my excuses for not running for the last few weeks sound like. Actually, I think I pulled a muscle in my lower abdomen after my 5K, and it really seems to become aggravated when I run. I have been using the elliptical trainer at the Y, but it's not quite the same (not nearly the sweat and staggering and general overall misery). I'm hoping that I'll be back to full speed (me and speed used in the same sentence -- ha!) in about a month. Can't do any ab work, and I feel kind of like Santa Claus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, then there's the friend, another dad, who's devastated because his son has chosen to run cross country and track instead of playing baseball. I don't think that the boy's coming out of the closet; I just think he's chosen to run. Is run-o-phobe an appropriate diagnosis for the dad?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-4409159113179096561?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/4409159113179096561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=4409159113179096561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/4409159113179096561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/4409159113179096561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/but-im-sick-and-have-temperature.html' title='But I&apos;m sick and have a temperature'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-2996109692412878299</id><published>2007-12-13T19:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T19:52:48.784-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fartleks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hot'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stretch'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='neighborhood'/><title type='text'>When does this get easier?</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Originally published May 10, 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When does this get easier? I asked that same question after my last run, too. Today's run was hot and humid and hot. It rained late this afternoon, so I ran past a lot of flowing water and through a lot of water covering sidewalks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've had a lot of rain the last few weeks (months?), and I can tell I've worked for an engineering firm too long. As I splash along my run after the rain, I ponder how long the storm water system will take to drain the area and if my route falls is affected by the Probable Maximum Flood . . . pretty sad, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Near the end of my run, I passed a group of kids who were playing in and around the water flowing in the gutter. One girl, who obviously is the big sister to an 8-year-old boy, shouts that he's going to be in trouble when he gets home (he was floating his leather baseball glove in the gutter). I heard light footsteps behind me, then the boy zips by me. I thought he was running home until I hear his sister shout for him to 'quit showing off.' When he was about 15-20 yards ahead of me, I realized that we were racing (!), so I sprinted after him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I discovered long ago that in order to beat a child in a foot race, you simply have to 1) race farther than the length of a soccer field, or 2) race beyond what is likely the boundary where his parents allow him to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was about to pass him and turn the corner past what I perceived as his neighborhood boundary; instead I declared him the winner as he passed a driveway right before I caught him. I thought this might help him prove to his bossy big sister that he wasn't just showing off.&lt;br /&gt;And maybe I am ready for those fartleks I've been thinking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For what it's worth, I think this will get easier if I stretch more between runs. My legs, especially my calves, are really tight; and I think it's making my running more difficult than it needs to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-2996109692412878299?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/2996109692412878299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=2996109692412878299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/2996109692412878299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/2996109692412878299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/when-does-this-get-easier.html' title='When does this get easier?'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-84902964678497868</id><published>2007-12-13T19:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T19:50:41.247-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Frito Pie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='madder &apos;n hell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IPod'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='penguin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='neighborhood'/><title type='text'>'. . . I am the Frito Bandito'</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Originally published May 1, 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who'd thought that Frito Pie (you know . . . chili, Fritos, onions and cheese, sour cream and picante sauce if you want) would qualify as a training meal? Promised myself that I'd run this evening, but couldn't get out 'til after dinner. I thought the Frito Pie would be serve 'ala sidewalk' after a few steps into the run, but I had a great run!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hit the spot that I think is a mile in about 9:23, which to me, especially now, is cruising. Of course, the last 15 minutes were at at 13:30 pace, but that's unimportant (okay, not really . . . the 13:30 part).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I ranted in my 'I'm madder 'n hell, and I'm not gonna take it more' mode? About a month ago, a runner in his early 20s was beaten up for his IPod along one of the routes I usually run.  I'd like to think that I'm big enough to seem not worth the effort, but in reality, I'm more like that lumbering elephant that gets left by the herd and now word has quickly spread among the hyenas that dinner's ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HATE being intimidated enough to not run after dark (or near dark in this other runner's case) with my IPod. Not that I'm a huge music fan, but this is MY neighborhood, and I don't want to give it up to thugs. Especially thugs not old enough to pay taxes! (huh?)&lt;br /&gt;Coincidentally, the bridge that I use to approximate one mile is the spot where the other runner was mugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway . . . enjoyed this evening's run. AND my Penguin hat's started to look worn and sweaty. I'm so proud! Okay, life's little pleasures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-84902964678497868?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/84902964678497868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=84902964678497868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/84902964678497868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/84902964678497868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-am-frito-bandito.html' title='&apos;. . . I am the Frito Bandito&apos;'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-8488442631211064960</id><published>2007-12-13T17:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T17:47:16.706-06:00</updated><title type='text'>But it's all for the money and the awards</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Originally published April 15, 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran earlier this afternoon while my almost-10-year-old rode her bike with me. She originally bet me a quarter that I would stop during the 30-minute run, then dropped the ante to 10 cents when I kept going. Eventually, she became a cheerleader, encouraging,'go, dad, go' and 'you can do it, dad,' especially when another runner passed me (more like PASSED me). When we got home, she disappeared upstairs and returned later with former soccer trophy turned 'Dad Actually Ran 3 Miles Without Stopping Award.' And she upped the prize money to 35 cents. I may keep running for awhile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-8488442631211064960?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/8488442631211064960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=8488442631211064960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/8488442631211064960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/8488442631211064960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/but-its-all-for-money-and-awards.html' title='But it&apos;s all for the money and the awards'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-5667723588011730817</id><published>2007-12-13T17:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T17:45:47.827-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Victory Over Violence 5K'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cold'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='windy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PR'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='5K'/><title type='text'>Speed of lightning, bolt of thunder . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Originally published April 15, 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished yesterday's 5K with a chip time of 32:47.9, which is about a 10:30 mile. Not too exciting for most runners, but I'm ecstatic. I ran in the same Victory Over Violence 5K a couple of years ago and finished in 34:20.75, #476 compared to this year's #317. Believe it or not, I've had much worse 5Ks, and I think my PR was only about 29 minutes, so I'm really happy. Given my current condition, lack of training, weight, age (and just about any other excuse), I think this a good stepping stone to another personal record (even snails have PRs).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday morning was COLD and WINDY. A cold front moved in Friday with tornadoes and hail. I woke up at 4:30 a.m. to help direct early traffic, and I was SO cold. I think weather conditions helped my run though because I was happy to do anything warmer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I ran a couple of years ago, Kim fussed at me because I slowed down at the finish line. Normally, I'm like a horse headed to the barn when I see the finish line, but I usually won't pass anyone near the chute because I know how hard they've worked to get there (and I've seldom worked THAT hard . . . probably why my 5K PR is 29 minutes).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I started to sprint and passed all the other remaining slow-pokes long before the chute. I was pretty excited, then I heard footsteps behind me. I never looked back to see if the runner was possibly pregnant while pushing a triple stroller or an octagenarian pulling an oxygen tank, but I did find the burst to not get passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Kim (who wasn't there -- something about the early morning arrival) that I was THE MAN and showed no mercy to other runners at the finish. She just rolled her eyes.&lt;br /&gt;So, no Underdog-caliber speed of lightning, etc., but the race was fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-5667723588011730817?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/5667723588011730817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=5667723588011730817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/5667723588011730817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/5667723588011730817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/speed-of-lightning-bolt-of-thunder.html' title='Speed of lightning, bolt of thunder . . .'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-7289859275266296245</id><published>2007-12-13T17:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T17:46:04.821-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Victory Over Violence 5K'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kenya'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mexican food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='5K'/><title type='text'>Una Mas five pounds</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Originally published April 12, 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I know why Kenya produces so many great marathoners . . . because it's so far away from any Mexican restaurants. I'm running in Saturday's Victory Over Violence 5K, and I noticed that last night's beef fajita quesadillas and today's tamales for lunch have done nothing to improve my stamina, strength or speed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I probably need to focus more on my running (ya think?). After I ran this evening, I went to my daughter's volleyball practice. While I'm watching, I look down at my shorts and wonder what happened to the black stripe that went across the bottom hem of my red shorts. Then I realize that I'm wearing my shorts inside out. Whew!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-7289859275266296245?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/7289859275266296245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=7289859275266296245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/7289859275266296245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/7289859275266296245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/una-mas-five-pounds.html' title='Una Mas five pounds'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-7607816208014828067</id><published>2007-12-13T17:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T17:42:26.527-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cowtown Marathon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isaiah'/><title type='text'>An old runner's prayer</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Originally published March 20, 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a nice run this afternoon . . . started to rain about a block before I got home, so my cool down was . . . well, pretty cool. Nothing profound to say today, but here's a Bible passage that helped keep me going when I ran in my last marathon:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint . . . Isaiah 40: 29-31&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an addendum to being an 'old' runner . . . as I approached the finish line in the 2003 Cowtown Marathon, I could hear the announcer introducing runners -- 'here's Mary Smith from Euless, John Jones from Austin, etc.' As I cross the finish line, the announcer says 'there's 47-year-old George Bowden!' What?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-7607816208014828067?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/7607816208014828067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=7607816208014828067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/7607816208014828067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/7607816208014828067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/old-runners-prayer.html' title='An old runner&apos;s prayer'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-8926084190298974936</id><published>2007-12-13T17:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T17:40:27.369-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keller'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IPod'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rare Earth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mexican food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&apos;70s'/><title type='text'>Long live the 70s; the 70s are dead</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Originally published March 15, 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never listened to music when I've run before, but this time around, I listen to my IPod. I haven't figured out if dialing up 70s rock anthems is good or bad for a run. Good because you can lose yourself in WAY too familiar tunes and enjoy the memories associated with the time when you could run but didn't need to. Bad because . . . well, you have the beat that you couldn't really dance to as a teenager that now won't let you get into a consistent running rhythm, and you have the reminder that this music is 25-30 years old and if it's politely referred to as 'classic,' then so are you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years ago, I volunteered to work at a festival sponsored by the Keller (a small town near me) Chamber of Commerce.  I had the opportunity to go to the airport to pick up 'The Classic Rock All Stars,' who performed at the festival. Loved Rare Earth as a kid, and lead singer Peter Rivera (really Rivers) was there. Jerry Corbetta, lead singer and organist for Sugar Loaf also was a member of the band, and so were Dennis Noda (who?) from Cannibal and the Headhunters (who?) and Mike Pinera from Blues Image, Iron Butterfly and Alice Cooper (job hopper).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete Rivera has a son who plays baseball in the Dodgers system. Hearing the guy who warned 'Hey, Big Brother' sound like a soccer mom asking about today's game was a little unsettling (but sweet) . . . has everybody grown up (thank God!)? Jerry Corbetta, who also sang with Frankie Vallie (but shouldn't try to hit those high notes now), asked about a church organ that Van Cliburn donated to a church in Fort Worth. 'Dang, we had lunch the other day and I forgot to ask.' Felt bad for Dennis Noda. He hummed a few bars of the Headhunters 'Land of 1,000 Dances' when I said that I didn't recognize the band or the song title. I was ecstatic when I blurted, 'It's that song that high school bands play!' Probably didn't impress him too much. Wasn't a huge fan of Mike Pinera's bands, but he seemed to be having the most fun on stage, fun enough that even never-heard-of-him teenagers played air guitar with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gray hair, pot bellies, scratchy voices and all . . . loved listening to the All Stars.&lt;br /&gt;BUT, I probably need to create a new running playlist for my IPod. Enjoyed a good run tonight . . . then had to decide between going out for pizza or Mexican food. Hmmm?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-8926084190298974936?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/8926084190298974936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=8926084190298974936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/8926084190298974936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/8926084190298974936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/long-live-70s-70s-are-dead.html' title='Long live the 70s; the 70s are dead'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336920083631242665.post-5129097241497342799</id><published>2007-12-12T21:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T21:56:06.054-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Austin Motorola Marathon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cowtown Marathon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Danny Glover'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amby Burfoot'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Complete Guide to Running'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Winston Churchill'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MS 150 Bike Tour'/><title type='text'>'I'm too old for this s - - t' . . . Danny Glover in 'Lethal Weapon</title><content type='html'>Originally posted March 13, 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I heard Danny Glover say that umpteen years ago, I just thought I knew what he was talking about. I'm 51 years old and trying to start running again. I've completed two marathons -- Austin Motorola in 2001 and Fort Worth Cowtown in 2003 -- but starting all over again is HARD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I ran in both marathons, I entered in the Clydesdale category (yeah, it's what it sounds like), and now I'm about 15-20 pounds heavier (I was up to about 220, but I've lost a few pounds). When I'm on the treadmill at the Y, I feel like I'm remaking Jurassic Park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started running again in February. Got a bonus from my employer, waddled over to Luke's (running store) and bought a new pair of Nike Air Pegasus (my all-time favorites . . . kind of like you're favorite dessert that you seek at times of desperation for comfort food). Somehow, my feet are now Size 13 Wide (I've heard that happens after you have kids).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I started running, I was following the plan Amby Burfoot describes in 'The Complete Guide to Running:' start walking then run and walk for 30 minutes, increasing the amount of running time each week. He also features a snippet on a college coach who uses the plan to prep beginners to run a 5K -- his biggest admonition . . . patience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago, I thought I was feeling pretty good and the weather was nice, so I went after it. I'd worked my way up to about eight minute runs followed by two minutes of walking. But since it was nice and I was feeling pretty good, I blew off the plan . . . and haven't run since.&lt;br /&gt;I have been walking again and eating less and today was a nice day (but much cooler) and I was feeling pretty good, so I patiently took off on a 30-minute run, telling myself that I will stick to Amby's 'talk test' rule and keep my pace slow. I didn't know you could cover so little distance in so little time, but I ran the full 30 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My immediate goal is to run in the Fort Worth Women's Shelter Victory Over Violence 5K next month. Our company is a sponsor, and we have pretty good participation. I'm hoping that enough attention will be paid to our marathoners and triathletes that my penguin pace and style (thanks, John Bingham) will go unnoticed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 20 years ago, I rode my old Schwinn Varsity (weight: approximately 1,200 lbs) in the MS 150 Bike Tour from Houston to Austin. My kickstand generated a lot of laughs from the 'real' bikers, who rode much sleeker, lighter bikes. I enjoyed a few laughs the final afternoon when those same bikers wrestled the gale-force winds between Bastrop State Park and Austin to keep their bikes on the road. The ditches on the side of the road looked like a bad war movie filled with riders who just gave up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY . . . I may look a little funny waddling back into shape (I always thought a 9 1/2 - 10 minute pace was slow . . . now, I wish!), but I'll be there at the finish line.&lt;br /&gt;By the way, those were the people that impressed the hell out of me in Austin . . . 6+ hours later and they were still chugging toward the finish line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never give in. Never, never, never give in . . . Winston Churchill&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4336920083631242665-5129097241497342799?l=rungeorge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/feeds/5129097241497342799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4336920083631242665&amp;postID=5129097241497342799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/5129097241497342799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4336920083631242665/posts/default/5129097241497342799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rungeorge.blogspot.com/2007/12/im-too-old-for-this-s-t-danny-glover-in.html' title='&apos;I&apos;m too old for this s - - t&apos; . . . Danny Glover in &apos;Lethal Weapon'/><author><name>George</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15980615603022059891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NMEn79Z3SRE/SQj29TXvFPI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CIp3CxniTJk/S220/gib+IV.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
