Running for Prevent Blindness Texas in 2011

This year I made some friends at the Cowtown and decided to pay forward some of their generosity by dedicating my run to a local charity. I have done plumbing work at Prevent Blindness and gotten to know Kathi fairly well, and my Mother and Sister's employer, Alcon, also has a relationship with them. It seemed like a great match.

As it turns out, I was right.

The drive for funds started with a trip to Prevent Blindness, and Kathi was excited and willing to help out in any way she could. Soon there was an agreement to become one of Cowtown Marathon's non-profits, then messages to her headquarters in Chicago to start streamlining the donation process. I started beating the streets literally and virtually (on Facebook) and my friends came through surpassing my expectations. I also found another connection: an old high school friend of mine, and my Daughter's school nurse, has already had dealings with Prevent Blindness Texas. The school has been able to help less fortunate kids have their vision screened, tested, and corrected.

This really is a pretty amazing world- when you reach out, I always seem to find a helping hand.

Thanks to everyone, we currently have pledges totaling $406.

If you know of any corporate money looking for a good cause, drop me a line.
run4pb@att.net

Cowtown 2010 DRAFT!

The preparation for the race was minimal, I ran for a few days in January then ran for a couple hours in early February then carb loaded with some new friends at a great little joint on Seventh street. The key to my success would be low expectations. And, a big hat.

Even in the starting corral I could feel the effects of my cowboy hat, people were enticed to engage me in conversation- two triathletes running the half near me explained the finer points of the tri-style bike, and once we started moving two young girls in front of me began their discourse on how they ended up in Ft. Worth on the beautiful day. Before long I was coasting down Northside drive and feeling in top condition.

Every other spectator seemed to have a compliment for my headed wear and the interaction buoyed down toward Jacksboro highway. A converted Franchman in a Zidane jersey put up with me and my head butt jokes all the way to Rivercrest golf course. It was turning into a social outing more than a race: Constance was holding a party in front of her house, but it was on the wrong side of the half marathon split, so I had to settle for seeing her poodle. Bo's driveway was packed but only one of his neighbors was out this morning- everyone else was in the race. People around me were beginning to show signs of fatigue, stretch breaks, walking, but I tried to offer some kind words. I was running without a watch (I don't even own one) and depended on such nebulous clues to my progress as familiar runners, number of spectators, church bells, and mile markers- the tea leaves were telling me good things. In the Botanic Gardens I met-up with birthday gal Sue and we talked until her Galloway broke us up. Not long after that I ran through an intersection and was given a lift by the attending cop Chris, I was friends with her brother in high school, she noticed me and the hat- I almost didn't recognize her in her too-cool sunglasses. The course gets lonelier after the halfer's drop-off, about a third the humanity on the course and spectators thin-out too as the hours drag by.

You start to recognize the loyal family members making their way to as many points on the course as they can in support of their special whoever. A guy was running coverage for someone behind me on his bike- I would see him set at a corner watching the passing faces then a few minutes later he would pass me on his way to another good look-out point. My left foot threatened to put a stop to my as yet unending run, but a subtle change in my stride seemed to give me some relief. As I turned toward the now visible skyline I got an extra jolt and though I had been anxiously awaiting mile twenty, it passed almost unnoticed. I passed a guy fighting through some paralyzing leg cramps, turned-out to be Jason but he wouldn't let me stick around. Next Sue passed me. I crossed the bridge into downtown and started to feel the adrenaline, fighting myself not to get too far ahead of my pace, almost had a hamstring pull on Lancaster, then the run up Main to the finish line. I spotted Zidane on the sidewalk and got a fist bump, a woman called-out to me, " Don't sprint, I want to get my picture with the cowboy." I forgot all about my tender hamstring and we went up the street side by side, I waved my hat at the crowd and called for their help. I told her to put her hands up and we crossed the line with the crowd roaring. What a finish.

Jason wasn't far behind and I ran into Sue a little later, made some new friends, and plenty of memories.

Halloween Builds Faith in Humanity

This was Halloween weekend and being short on funds my Daughter and I hit the driveway with a bucket of chalk and a lot of enthusiasm. She bailed-out after a few minutes but I stuck-on and after a couple of hours with the morning sun and a slab of concrete I was feeling the holiday spirit. I was met at the door with my Wife's skepticism, saying it would likely be defaced before any of the trick-or-treaters would witness it, I refused to believe her. After all I had already received a few compliments from passers-by including a young man from across the street. I was especially proud of this one.

I was brought back to reality by my Son's announcement that the driveway had been hit. I walked-out to view the damages and equated the evidence with the boys at the end of the block on their mini motorcycles. I went for it. As they approached I walked in front of them and blocked their progress. I was surprised to see the same boy from earlier among the three. I jumped into my interrogation and he denied all involvement, I chose to believe him. The middle boy slipped-up in his story and I stopped short of venting all of my emotions and told him that I thought it was, "just sorry". The youngest boy whom I have known for years and considered a decent kid was silent. I turned toward my house, they never moved.

Once inside my Wife exposed my deepest fears- that I should expect an act of vandalism on the property within the next 24 hours. I claimed that I didn't believe that. Mentally I reviewed the confrontation and prepared myself to clean-up the drawing. That's when the doorbell rang. The three of them stood before me, and the two youngest confessed to their actions and gave what I felt were sincere apologies. I was flabbergasted. I have pulled far worse stunts in my day and probably wouldn't have been as responsible as they were without heavy parental involvement. I expressed, as best I could, how impressed I was with them, and accepted their apologies. It renewed my faith in this generation and more specifically my neighborhood, perhaps it is just the fear mongering media, and not the degeneration of the human race.

My Whiterock Faux Pas

This weekend I will be watching the Whiterock Marathon from my livingroom. . . I had previously penciled this race into my schedule as part of a double marathon season, but, I have not made the time for training, nor have I any money right now. Certainly, I could rationalize the whole thing by saying that I am focusing on my hockey team's push for the play-offs, which is partly true. But the fact is, I am beginning to question my commitment to running.

I had planned on writing a column on my relationship with running several months ago, but my delay has proven to be the real litmus test, meaning there is no need to philosophically debate it in writing anymore. The fact is, I am a marginal competitor. I want to win at the things I try to do, I just don't want to expend alot of effort to obtain that win. This is the reason that I have no doubt ended up where I am in this life. If it comes easy to me, then I am willing to take advantage of it, but if I have to work for it, then I will find other avenues to expend my very limited energies. It's pretty pathetic, but it is something that I am trying to overcome.

While the money issue is a real one, I am ashamed of my lack of commitment to the sport. I will watch this race, this time, but I will not let it pass me by again. And, I am strengthened in my resolve to not only run the Cowtown but to run it well. I only have a few weeks to get prepared for this race, but it is enough. So watch out Amanda, I am gunning for you, still. Good luck to you in March or whenever your race is, you will need it.

I won't formally commit myself to the Big D Marathon here, but I really do want to make this a double marathon season. I may just have to, in order to keep my spirits up.

Running Before You Learn to Walk

After a fairly successful rookie season on the local running circuit, the requisite sophomore slump reared its head. It started with an unusually warm autumn and busy work schedule, allowing me plenty of opportunities to rationalize skipping this run and the next one. Before long, the awaited death match between my baby sister and myself was looming.

I went into full desperation mode. Training started with a 3.1 mile run one late night, with no time. No problem. I tried to squeeze in another 3 miler a few days later, and felt terrible afterward. Next was a 7.5 mile jaunt, originally intended for 9, cut short for intense chaffing. Fatigue never came into play and I was gaining some confidence, but the half marathon was only six days away.

With no more training, I rested up for the big race.

The race would be near Lubbock on a Saturday morning, I would leave Ft. Worth on Friday night. . . what could go wrong? Around four in the afternoon I started toward my sister's house in Lubbock, I watched the sublime scenery fly by for hour upon hour, driving directly into the setting sun. Highlights: a sign for Stink Creek, hundreds of wind collectors, a couple of road victimized deer, and a shooting star. Perhaps luck would be with me.

Late Friday night, I finally arrived, made some small talk with my hosts, and got to bed. I slept fairly well, despite the motorcycle show going on outside my window. Morning arrived and with an improvised breakfast and a quick shower we were off to the races. Waiting for an event to start is always an awkward time for me, too much time to feel uncomfortable, think about the race, just no good. When it finally did start I felt great. I left my sis in the dust. Headed out for the puny little hills, I was sure there were less than ten runners ahead of me, I passed two on the first hill, on the way to the next hill one of them passed me. What should I make of this? First lap was complete somewhere around 46 minutes, and I still felt all right. The first hill was just ahead, and I was feeling the lag as I started up. I decided to conserve energy and walk this one. A few people jogged by, then I heard the ragged labored breathing from behind, no way, how could she be so close? It was her. My baby sis was cruising by me on the climb, I acted cool and stuck with my walk to the top. On the backside, I hit my patented descent dash, passing everyone that had passed me on the climb, and carried the momentum as far as I could. That wasn't far enough, I could hear women conversing behind me. My drive was weakening. Around mile 10 they started passing me again, when Amanda pulled along side I tried to hang with her, then decided to just keep her in sight, eventually this too proved more than I could manage. I had put so much mental energy into holding her off in the last couple of miles that I had neglected to eat my PowerBar gel. I dropped into a walk for the second time, retrieved the gel and drained it, I walked toward the nearest roadside trashcan, unloaded the wrapper and picked myself up for the final mile and a half.

There wasn't much to be salvaged at this point, I wouldn't be beating all of the women, I wouldn't be beating my sister, I spotted a truck near the finish line and raced it up the final hill, I lost that one, too.

The finish line was reached at 1 hour, 48 minutes, 16 seconds, approximately two and a half minutes after Amanda. . . The bright side, I got second in my age group.

Just two weeks later, I made the decision to race another half, in Ft. Worth this time. Only problem, I decided about six hours before race time, at two in the morning, after two games, and one long practice session, of ice hockey (my first love) but I wouldn't let it get me down, I thought.

Well, I finished the race only two minutes faster than two weeks prior, my sister still had me beat. . . I got first in my group this time, at least. I need more than shooting stars, I guess. A commitment to my training would do me well.

Next up, A 5K in nearby Arlington against my sister, again. Who knows?

Mike Moore's Goaltending Clinic

Hi, I'm Mike Moore. . .

After years of high-level play all across North Texas, I've decided to give a little bit back, well, not exactly give.
I have classes for all ages and skill levels, from 18-50+, from I-Minor to questionable D.
My clinics have on and off ice aspects, available at almost any area stick and puck session or public park for only $150/hour (BYOB). My sessions concentrate on: staying upright, distinguishing left pad from right, pacing your drinking, knocking the goal off its moorings, and near post/far post angle discrepancy. Some of my clients include: Jon Ellis, Matt Walker, Bob Sirkis, and many more!

Burger's Lake

I only went to Burger's lake one time, I was probably about twelve or so. I had a blast but now the story is out that the parasite, cryptosporidiosis (consult with Hermione Granger for correct pronunciation), is responsible for closing the water park.


I remember doing, scratch that, attempting a backflip off of the trapeze, wincing and telling everyone that I was fine. Jumping off of the extremely high, high dive and racking myself in the process. Of course there were stories, I never knew if they were true, about drownings and carnal acts occurring under the decks. My father told me the story of snorkeling through the murky waters until he discovered a submarine turd, which brings me to today. . .

The parasite crypto. . .
How is Cryptosporidiosis spread?

The cryptosporidiosis parasite lives in the intestine of infected humans or animals. Millions of cryptosporidiosis parasites might be released in a bowel movement from an infected human or animal. You can become infected after accidentally swallowing the parasite. cryptosporidiosis may be found in soil, food, water, or surfaces that have been contaminated with the feces from infected humans or animals. cryptosporidiosis can be easily spread and is very contagious

WOW!

Maybe Dad really did see a corn fish.


Maybe they can clean it up, I had actually been planning on making a special effort to get my kids there before the summer ended, but they may never open again. I hope they do re-open, of course I play in toilets for a living so I am probably not the best person to pole on the matter.

P.S. Do you remember the pool operators telling you and all the other kids about how if you peed in the pool a red cloud would form around you? I think that was just a myth, but I never tested my theory.