<?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-3980123166429757221</id><updated>2011-04-23T10:06:32.228-04:00</updated><title type='text'>39.3 and Counting</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Celebrating my journey into middle-age, creaky bones, love handles, temple exposure, and a personal challenge to help myself and others, through a 39.3 mile journey in the Magic Kingdom.  And with any luck, I'll meet princesses, fly with some pixie dust, and stay in a castle...&lt;/b&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-5616692132461369938</id><published>2008-01-21T19:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T19:37:35.162-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrapping Up Loose Ends...And Looking Ahead!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5U4O6qYS_I/AAAAAAAAALc/VLiHUSsn_Xc/s1600-h/goofy+logo.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158090777139104754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5U4O6qYS_I/AAAAAAAAALc/VLiHUSsn_Xc/s320/goofy+logo.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for honesty (I sense some of you don't believe everything I have blogged about to this point!) Approximately 5 months ago, the thought of running 39.3 miles over two days seemed pretty daunting. &lt;em&gt;Yet, the body can achieve, what the mind believes!&lt;/em&gt; And I believed that completing the Goofy Challenge was possible. I had a training plan - and I stuck to it! Along the way, I learned a lot about myself, blood related cancers, and the spirit of teamwork and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;camaraderie&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just over 7 years ago, I finished my only other marathon in Tampa. Each weekend, I did a long distance training run, which I simply dreaded. I counted down the days to the marathon, and willed it to happen ASAP. I did not have the right frame of mind, and subsequently, while I was able to say I completed a marathon (and in the process check the box on a life experience), I did not enjoy the journey. Back then I was only concerned about the final destination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I can truly say that I ran with renewed energy and enthusiasm over the 532 miles I put in since September 15, 2007. I looked forward to every step of the journey, and chose to share it with others. In the process it was FUN! This wasn't just about turning 40. It was about helping the Leukemia &amp;amp; Lymphoma Society in the process and doing something special with the effort. I had done &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5PQu6qYS9I/AAAAAAAAALM/ZhyWIMIYPjo/s1600-h/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157695502708919250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="191" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5PQu6qYS9I/AAAAAAAAALM/ZhyWIMIYPjo/s320/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+050.jpg" width="245" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;training runs with Team-In-Training people in 2000 for Tampa, but did not have the benefit of their "experience". However, I can now serve as an advocate. From the staff in the Western NC - Charlotte Office (Stacey - at left &amp;amp; Abby), to our coaches (Bryan, Garrett, Darren &amp;amp; Angela), our mentor (Sheila), to my weekend running pals who were training for runs in Disney and Phoenix, TNT knows how to make the most of the participants willingness to be extraordinary. I may have been a runner before - but I became a runner with purpose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If I have a hope for those of you who have followed me from the beginning, joined in somewhere along the way, or shared my story with others, it is that my effort may serve as an inspiration to you or someone you know to try something that seems impossible.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; It is easy to say "I can't run" or "I don't have the time". Whether you choose to do something with TNT, or simply participate on your own, all running events accept &lt;em&gt;runners and walkers&lt;/em&gt;. All that is needed is your commitment and a positive attitude.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I was on a tremendous high last Sunday morning - a top 5 life experience! This week has felt like something is missing. As someone who is driven by setting and achieving personal goals, I had just accomplished a major one, and didn't know what the future would bring. During those last 3 miles of the marathon, I was saying to myself &lt;em&gt;"never again - stick to the half-marathon where you can excel." &lt;/em&gt;Well, the competitor in me has decided that I have unfinished business in the marathon - a sub 4 hour finish!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So, here's the deal. I am participating with Team-In-Training again for their spring season, and will be a marathoner in the Country Music Marathon on April 26, 2008 in Nashville, TN! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158091421384199170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5U40aqYTAI/AAAAAAAAALk/9KsTXzrAFB8/s320/top_racename_2008.gif" border="0" /&gt;Each of you has supported me this far - so I ask for your support only if you feel a burning need to sponsor me again. You have provided so much encouragement and financial support already, I cannot thank you enough. If you decide you need that 2008 tax deduction, you can donate by clicking &lt;a href="http://www.active.com/donate/tntwnc/tntwncKBansem"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. After that, who knows what my next great personal goal with be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;If you have been reading my blog from the beginning, you know that I have some loose ends to tie up:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I didn't lose enough weight to fit into size 31 pants. Or 32s. I believe the size 32 3/4 are fitting perfectly now (but I am keeping the stretchy pants just in case)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mom and Dad both called on the afternoon of the marathon under the guise of congratulating me. Secretly, I think they wanted to make sure I was still alive. Nonetheless, I did them proud!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I promised I would "go the extra mile" (or .7 to be exact) during the weekend to round up my total distance to 40 miles (one for each year). I did just that on Saturday running through the EPCOT parking lot to find Brenda at mile 12, and then ran back to see her finish. It may have been more than .7, but let's just call it an even 40 and not get picky!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I needed a running theme song - and received 1000's (ahem) of suggestions from my loyal readers (ahem). So, like the suggestions received (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; - I'll say it...none), I decided I didn't need a theme song on my MP3 player. I may have carried it with me on the Goofy runs, but I am proud to say I completed 39.3 miles without any music aid! And no matter what anyone tells you, &lt;em&gt;it is not a small world after all!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As we &lt;em&gt;remember what is important in life&lt;/em&gt;, the little things make a big difference. Sue's trip to Disney with her family made a big difference to me and won't soon be forgotten. As did all the stories about people impacted by a blood related cancer that I learned about during my training.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My ankle presented no issues throughout the Disney Marathon Weekend. Thankfully! I was quite worried two months earlier and wrapping/taping it for most training runs. It is full speed ahead for Nashville!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Qualified for Boston!!!! Uh...no.&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5U2saqYS-I/AAAAAAAAALU/nXMA5GJVbso/s1600-h/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+041.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158089084921990114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5U2saqYS-I/AAAAAAAAALU/nXMA5GJVbso/s320/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+041.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Staying true to myself, I inhaled (ate slowly) 3 chocolate donuts after the marathon for proper nutritional replenishment. And then had 3 more for breakfast the next day just to make sure. They didn't have any jelly filled ones at the store. I filled out a store recommendation card so the next person could benefit from my awareness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;This wouldn't have been anywhere close to being possible without the support of my three biggest cheerleaders. Two of them think I won both legs of the Goofy Challenge. The third one knows better and since she "won" her own medal as well, I had to let her in on my little secret...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And finally, along the way, you learned the 'true history' of the Goofy Challenge. Goofy may have avoided me all weekend long, but I was determined to provide photo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;documentation&lt;/span&gt; of the results...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157693475484355522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5PO46qYS8I/AAAAAAAAALE/HmJdnQ3OZw0/s400/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+057.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I DID IT !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Thank you for your incredible support and for sharing the Team-In-Training/Goofy Challenge/39.3 and Counting journey with me! I hope you will join me in a few years when I attempt an ULTRA MARATHON. I can see the theme forming already....50 @ 50!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Your Goofy Guy,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Ken (39.3 and Counting)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;A complete photo album of the weekend can be found at: &lt;a href="http://393andcounting.shutterfly.com/action/?a=1AauGjVk1YsXlQ&amp;amp;notag=1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;http://393andcounting.shutterfly.com/action/?a=1AauGjVk1YsXlQ&amp;amp;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;notag&lt;/span&gt;=1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-5616692132461369938?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/5616692132461369938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=5616692132461369938' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/5616692132461369938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/5616692132461369938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2008/01/wrapping-up-loose-endsand-looking-ahead.html' title='Wrapping Up Loose Ends...And Looking Ahead!'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5U4O6qYS_I/AAAAAAAAALc/VLiHUSsn_Xc/s72-c/goofy+logo.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-4376649392028824414</id><published>2008-01-18T20:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T22:50:17.969-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Go Ken, Go...You Can Do It!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5I92qqYS5I/AAAAAAAAAKs/eEYTHBoimR4/s1600-h/mickey+logo.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157252532666911634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5I92qqYS5I/AAAAAAAAAKs/eEYTHBoimR4/s320/mickey+logo.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; When we last left our Hydrated Hero (please, give me something), he had just crossed the finish line of Donald Duck's race, the Walt Disney World Half Marathon. Let's pick up where we left off on Saturday morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After completing the half-marathon, and going back to watch Brenda finish her first long distance race, it was only about 9:30 am. I was doing my best to stretch out my legs, as they were quite tight, and I began to look ahead to Sunday. Of most critical importance was getting some rest, as I was "running" on &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5INHKqYSiI/AAAAAAAAAH0/HdcgAxJ_mjQ/s1600-h/Half+-+Crossing+Finish+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157198940064991778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5INHKqYSiI/AAAAAAAAAH0/HdcgAxJ_mjQ/s200/Half+-+Crossing+Finish+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;fumes. The prior 3 evenings provided for about 10 - 12 hours of sleep. But, I was wired and did what any Disney runner would have done...sought out a photo with Mickey Mouse! And Donald! No Goofy...yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately sleep in the hotel was hard to come by. However, I was looking forward to a late afternoon visit with a good friend who came to town to cheer me on. Sue and John &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mulkern&lt;/span&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5INZ6qYSjI/AAAAAAAAAH8/13ztUjr8WWU/s1600-h/Half+-+Mickey+&amp;amp;+Ken+post+race.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157199262187538994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5INZ6qYSjI/AAAAAAAAAH8/13ztUjr8WWU/s320/Half+-+Mickey+%26+Ken+post+race.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;their daughter, Genevieve, made the trip to Orlando to catch me at the Disney Marathon Weekend, before heading on a Disney cruise. This was extra special for each of us, as Sue (one of my co-workers) had lost her father to a form of Lymphoma in December (an earlier blog entry), and John let me know his dad is currently a Lymphoma survivor. While I knew they were in town, and I thought it was to be at the marathon finish, I learned they were at the finish of the half-marathon and saw me finish!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We met up for dinner at the Coronado Springs - where I was able to award "My Champion" medals to them - given to race participants to share with those who support their efforts. And, of course, the littlest supporter of all gave me the biggest boost of confidence with an infectious smile and a GO, KEN, GO sign!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IQFaqYSmI/AAAAAAAAAIU/gCY1wTmwiTE/s1600-h/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157202208535104098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IQFaqYSmI/AAAAAAAAAIU/gCY1wTmwiTE/s320/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That evening I learned of my first wardrobe malfunction. My purple TNT jersey, to be worn on marathon day, was provided to me a week earlier and was quickly washed/dried. I happened to try it on Saturday evening, only to find it INCREDIBLY itchy on my back. Upon closer inspection, we found there was glue residue on the inside. No way I could run with the feeling of pin pricks wreaking havoc on my body. PLAN A: A quick call to my TNT coach revealed that no extra jerseys were available. PLAN B: We cut up an old cotton t-shirt from our luggage, and pinned it to the inside back of the jersey. Functional, but not idea. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5I-1qqYS6I/AAAAAAAAAK0/QPNgff6EaJY/s1600-h/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157253614998670242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="157" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5I-1qqYS6I/AAAAAAAAAK0/QPNgff6EaJY/s320/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+029.jpg" width="205" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;About 6 hours of sleep later, Brenda and I were up and moving at 2:30 to meet with my TNT running mates. Spirits were high, smiles were abounding, and hydrating was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;occurring&lt;/span&gt;. I must recognize Brenda for being a huge cheerleader - she has been at some of my previous races, but never up so early! But her sign, made on behalf of our kids, would make it easy for me to find her on the course (I &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IRRKqYSoI/AAAAAAAAAIk/0_btcVkLlPc/s1600-h/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157203509910194818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 216px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 151px" height="190" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IRRKqYSoI/AAAAAAAAAIk/0_btcVkLlPc/s320/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+027.jpg" width="273" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;don't know about that 'winning the race' thing though...)&lt;br /&gt;The next 3 hours in the parking lot waiting area and runners retreat tent went by quickly as I visualized the next 5 hours. Disney must have wanted us to get a head start on the 26.2 miles, as they had us walk .7 miles today to get to the start line! Now you read earlier this week about the need to fertilize the &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5I4taqYS0I/AAAAAAAAAKE/-Py5l5gIAqA/s1600-h/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157246876194982722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 237px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 164px" height="190" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5I4taqYS0I/AAAAAAAAAKE/-Py5l5gIAqA/s320/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+033.jpg" width="272" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;bushes, so I won't bore you with my multiple visits to nature's bathroom now. Rather, I'd like to share how runners are a strange bunch - specifically female runners! Most choose to wait in the line for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;porta&lt;/span&gt;-a-lets. But I witnessed the strange bonding of women travelling "in packs" to smell the newly planted Disney flowers! Some were bold, and simply determined that venturing into the underbrush was not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;desirable&lt;/span&gt;, so they stayed on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;perimeter&lt;/span&gt; of the forest to "drop trow". It may have been dark out, but there was more than one full moon visible! I must admit, I was awestruck...and laughing quite hard! It took my mind off the 5 hour visualization mentioned earlier. Then there were the "bodyguard packs", a minimum of three women bonding for the journey to the john. Two stand guard, backs to the 'reliever' while forming a human wall to shield their comrade from impending bullets. Let's face it - everyone has to go, and when it's time, it's time. And it is time to get on with the marathon, as I have been rambling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;100% humidity at the start of the race did not bode well for my modified jersey. It was soaking before the gun went off. &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5I4_aqYS1I/AAAAAAAAAKM/6ZOmFgXGJr0/s1600-h/Marathon+Start+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157247185432628050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5I4_aqYS1I/AAAAAAAAAKM/6ZOmFgXGJr0/s200/Marathon+Start+4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That's when I realized wardrobe malfunction #2 was going to be an issue. The string used to tie my running shorts tight had slipped into the waistband and could not be retrieved. Uh-oh. This in itself would not have been so bad, had it not been combined with the fact that my shorts had pockets in the back which held my MP3 and 4 energy gel packets. That extra weight was going to cause "runners crack" within the first 1/4 mile! And, to make matters worse, I had a small hip pack for my disposable camera which was to clip to my shorts as well. Uh-oh #2. This was not how I wanted to start my 26.2 mile journey. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At this point, I was fretting the humidity, with visions of the recent Chicago Marathon debacle dancing in my head. And worrying about how my running would be impacted when my shorts were around my ankles. And that's when I realized I had made tactical mistake number #3 with the wardrobe. It was 6:00 am, and sunrise wasn't until about 7:25 am. Yet I had my sunglasses and cool max running hat with me, only adding to the sweat pouring down my face and back. Remember when I said Brenda would be on the course cheering me on? I could have easily given these to her to give back to me when I would see her at mile 9. Dummy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5ISH6qYSpI/AAAAAAAAAIs/8VZuGtK2SpU/s1600-h/Disney+Full+-+Aladdin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157204450508032658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 247px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 151px" height="151" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5ISH6qYSpI/AAAAAAAAAIs/8VZuGtK2SpU/s320/Disney+Full+-+Aladdin.jpg" width="265" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;Anyway, the first 13 miles were quite uneventful. I was managing a comfortable 10:00/mile pace and feeling quite good. Running through EPCOT at miles 2 - 3 provided the opportunity I had been dreaming about for months - a photo with a princess! In this instance, it was Jasmine and Genie (oh, I wish for mile 25...). Big smiles, good photo, and off and running again in the darkness. Mile 9 allowed me to drop off my hat, glasses and hip pack with Brenda - each of which I had carried in my hands since the start of the race. I only kept the camera for photo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;opps&lt;/span&gt; in the Magic Kingdom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5ISeqqYSqI/AAAAAAAAAI0/pzMF31bDKuQ/s1600-h/Disney+-+Full+Castle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157204841350056610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="298" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5ISeqqYSqI/AAAAAAAAAI0/pzMF31bDKuQ/s320/Disney+-+Full+Castle.jpg" width="189" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The jog through the Magic Kingdom was outstanding, just like the day before. Thousands of spectators and wonderful energy led to big smiles for the camera coming through Cinderella's Castle. &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IUeKqYSvI/AAAAAAAAAJc/UC86oYzSLUk/s1600-h/Marathon+Cinderella+Castle+Good.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157207031783377650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IUeKqYSvI/AAAAAAAAAJc/UC86oYzSLUk/s320/Marathon+Cinderella+Castle+Good.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While Alice may not be an official princess, a blond girl in an apron provided many thoughts (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;c'mon&lt;/span&gt;, I was in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Fantasyland&lt;/span&gt;! Work with me here. I am a writer, not a porn star...although I wonder what the dude with the video camera was doing??). Even Woody and Jessie gave me a pat on the back in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Frontierland&lt;/span&gt; before sending me on my way....for the longest 13 miles of my life!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5ISpqqYSrI/AAAAAAAAAI8/KXyq5Yyjo2E/s1600-h/Disney+-+Alice.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157205030328617650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 182px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 123px" height="212" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5ISpqqYSrI/AAAAAAAAAI8/KXyq5Yyjo2E/s320/Disney+-+Alice.jpg" width="273" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IS_6qYSsI/AAAAAAAAAJE/BFaEG0M-yqs/s1600-h/Disney+-+Toy+Story.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157205412580707010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 187px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 123px" height="156" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IS_6qYSsI/AAAAAAAAAJE/BFaEG0M-yqs/s320/Disney+-+Toy+Story.jpg" width="252" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Brenda and I connected around mile 13 at the Grand Floridian hotel. It was at this point I unloaded the camera, grabbed my sunglasses, and told her "this is when the race begins. I am going to sprint to the finish!" HA! Jokes on him! I was still managing a 10:00/mile pace, but felt that the miles were beginning to take their toll. I was hydrating at every mile, alternating between water and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Powerade&lt;/span&gt;, but was forcing it down. &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IT66qYStI/AAAAAAAAAJM/E4otSa3C548/s1600-h/Marathon+Close+up+on+course.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157206426192988882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IT66qYStI/AAAAAAAAAJM/E4otSa3C548/s320/Marathon+Close+up+on+course.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;By around mile 17, we had passed through the Animal Kingdom (quite uneventful), and for the first time I stopped to drink my water, and grab a sponge they were providing on the course. Carried that damn sponge for the next 9 miles, wetting it every mile. The sun was peeking in and out of the clouds, and while the humidity was letting up, it was too little, too late to provide any form of relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me clarify something - I was not miserable or complaining! This is what running a marathon is all about - pushing the limits and fighting the mind games. I was counting down the miles one at a time, and pushing away thoughts about walking. I was remembering &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Omar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; from the TNT dinner two nights earlier, who shared his emotional story of overcoming renal failure, a kidney transplant, and a form of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;lymphoma&lt;/span&gt; to complete the Disney Half Marathon last year. I thought of &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sue's dad&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; and her presence supporting me. I kept thinking about the t-shirts I had seen all weekend long &lt;strong&gt;"If you think completing a marathon is hard, trying doing chemotherapy".&lt;/strong&gt; I thought about my &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;grandmother&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, who suffered a stroke 5 days earlier, and was going to have a much more difficult road ahead to recovery than I would after completing 39.3 miles. And I thought of all of my &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;sponsors&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - the great supporters who helped me get this far and believed in me! I was 9 miles from the finish of an incredible journey and was going to push through! Unfortunately, I am not sure all the spectators and Team-In-Training coaches stationed along the course saw it that way! I may have looked like I was on death's doorstep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5I5q6qYS2I/AAAAAAAAAKU/IVOOLQ51kH0/s1600-h/Marathon+On+Course.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157247932756937570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5I5q6qYS2I/AAAAAAAAAKU/IVOOLQ51kH0/s200/Marathon+On+Course.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was tired and fading. As I often do when running, I began to focus inward rather than on my surroundings. My sunglasses dropped from being propped on my head down to their rightful place - concealing worried eyes. Acknowledging those calling out my name (as it was on our running bibs) went from a wave and smile early in the marathon, to small lip movement (I hope it wasn't perceived as a snarl! Do I even know how to snarl???), and a barely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;perceptible&lt;/span&gt; "thumbs up". I thought to myself, &lt;em&gt;"I am never going to do this again." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The cheering kept me going. Mile 19 turned to mile 21, which turned to mile 23 going through Hollywood Studios. Still managing that 10:00/mile pace. Behind the Tower of Terror, volunteers handed out chocolate (yippee - a smile - barely), and I grabbed a Nestle Crunch bar and put it in my back pocket (you see, that was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; to carry and weigh down my shorts, because it was chocolate. There are trade-offs one makes in life, and I chose chocolate over butt-crack). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IUTKqYSuI/AAAAAAAAAJU/row0OdCsQ8g/s1600-h/Marathon+-+Hollywood+Studios.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157206842804816610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IUTKqYSuI/AAAAAAAAAJU/row0OdCsQ8g/s320/Marathon+-+Hollywood+Studios.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I honestly don't remember much of running through Hollywood Studios. I saw Woody and Jessie again (damn, they were quicker than me!), the red Power Ranger (my son, Ryan, would've given him a high five... I simply moved my lips - snarl), and Tow Mater from Cars looked all guilty just sitting there (hey - give me a tow to the finish!). I was determined to run through the main street area there, where more people were lined up....and then I needed to walk. I gave in once outside the Studios. Three miles to go and I was fried. But the people in line to get into the Studios were still cheering me on...telling me I could do it...calling me by name...telling me I was almost there. Guilt set in, and after about a minute I started running again...only to stop a few minutes later. At this point, I decided it would be wise to switch to an alternative training method - the run/walk method (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, it wasn't really a method for me, I was a necessity). I walked when I was tired, only to find out my right shin hurt badly and the only way to make the pain go away was to...run. Damn. Somebody wanted me to finish! I contemplated that for a moment while I ate my Nestle Crunch bar - didn't want it to melt in my shorts after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Two miles to go. The Disney Boardwalk area became a blur. Go feet, go. Walk. Run (crawl?). Anything to keep moving to the end. I wish I could have enjoyed the run through EPCOT at mile 25 more, but I had pulled into a shell....until we hit the crowds lined up in Future World with a 1/2 mile go. Sudden inspiration!!! Energy!!! Pride!!! And the gospel choir!!! They were so uplifting that I raised my arms up with them in praise - and applauded them for their efforts. I knew the finish line was 200 yards ahead, and when I rounded the final bend, I would step out into the cheers of the thousands of family, friends and others who came to support someone in the marathon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish everyone could share the feeling I had at that moment. Total elation! The adrenaline I had thoroughly spent for the past 26 miles came back in a final &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157207886481869570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IVP6qYSwI/AAAAAAAAAJk/YqdbCAoVd-s/s320/Marathon+Finish+close+up.jpg" border="0" /&gt;rush. My lips curved upward and formed a smile - bigger than ever! My thumbs moved with the rest of my hands...and arms...high into the air...and I waved to the crowd.! I knew that somewhere in the stands were Brenda, Sue, John, Genevieve and my TNT coaches were cheering me on...and as I approached the finish line of my journey (which truly started over 18 months earlier)...where I would be able to rest for the first time in 4:28:35...I felt as if I could go another few miles! I had completed the Goofy Challenge - 39.3 miles...and in the process created memories that will never be forgotten!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IWVqqYSyI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/E1cZwuD12zI/s1600-h/Marathon+Finish+Medal+Award.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157209084777745186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IWVqqYSyI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/E1cZwuD12zI/s320/Marathon+Finish+Medal+Award.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Since this was the 15&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; year of the Walt Disney World Marathon, finishers were awarded a special Mickey Mouse commemorative medal. I got the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;bling&lt;/span&gt;! But more importantly, I was reunited with those who supported me that day...and the emotions came through. And where was that Goofy? I was due for praise - and one final photo!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IV4qqYSxI/AAAAAAAAAJs/hpFDHNXiC2g/s1600-h/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157208586561538834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="174" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IV4qqYSxI/AAAAAAAAAJs/hpFDHNXiC2g/s320/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+071.jpg" width="247" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On Sunday evening, TNT had a celebration dinner for participants. Running stories - good and bad - were shared. My running partner fo the past few months, Lynn, had finish one minute ahead of me and was feeling good. Pictures were taken. Smiles were plenty. And discussions of new marathon conquests had already started. &lt;em&gt;I could do this again...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IW_qqYSzI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/uQ3odbOnGco/s1600-h/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+067.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157209806332250930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="183" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5IW_qqYSzI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/uQ3odbOnGco/s320/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+067.jpg" width="245" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;If you have made it with me this far...congratulations to you as well...I am sure it isn't easy reading about someone else's journey. It may be like seeing 100's of pictures of somebody else's family vacation. However, since you have come this far, stay with me for another few days for some final thoughts on the 39.3 and Counting journey!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Marathon Mile Split Times:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 - 10:06&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2/3 - 21:56 (Jasmine was waiting!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4/5 - 20:43&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6 - 9:35&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7 - 9:36&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8 - 9:11&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9/10 - 18:27&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11 - 9:50&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;12 - 9:18&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13 - 9:33&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;14 - 9:36&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;15 - 9:59&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;16 - 9:32&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;17 - 9:50&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;18 - 10:26&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;19 - 10:27&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;20 - 10:51&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;21 - 9:59&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;22 - 11:03&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;23 - 10:35&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;24 - 11:35&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;25 - 13:00&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;26.2 - 13:19&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5I8YKqYS3I/AAAAAAAAAKc/ALpaLfhWO0A/s1600-h/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+068.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157250909169273714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5I8YKqYS3I/AAAAAAAAAKc/ALpaLfhWO0A/s400/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+068.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-4376649392028824414?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/4376649392028824414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=4376649392028824414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/4376649392028824414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/4376649392028824414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2008/01/go-ken-goyou-can-do-it.html' title='Go Ken, Go...You Can Do It!'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R5I92qqYS5I/AAAAAAAAAKs/eEYTHBoimR4/s72-c/mickey+logo.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-46095969620992212</id><published>2008-01-16T19:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T22:43:08.768-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Note to Self - Don't Drink So Much</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46vzaqYShI/AAAAAAAAAHs/xsanj7FtXWk/s1600-h/2560x1600_donald.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156251921251060242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 249px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 139px" height="173" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46vzaqYShI/AAAAAAAAAHs/xsanj7FtXWk/s320/2560x1600_donald.jpg" width="279" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;By now you might already know the results - I am certifiably Goofy! But then you may have already known that too. As many runners have come to say after running in Disney - "I ROCKED THE WORLD!" 39.3 miles...and then some!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sure, I did not finish on the podium, but I did come out a winner! As I have shared my running experiences, and other random thoughts, over the past few months, I hope you will indulge me for a few more days, by reading my blog for a recap of the Disney Marathon Weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Half-Marathon&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I departed Charlotte Friday with every expectation of kicking butt both days. First place, baby. Twice. Breaking the tape. World records. Multiple interviews. Glossy photos. Front page news on the Disney website. It was my destiny. (writer's embellishment).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could it not be my destiny. The pilot our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;USAIRWAYS&lt;/span&gt; flight to Orlando made an announcement during the taxi process that special guests were on board. “Please welcome the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Bansemer&lt;/span&gt;’s…Ken and Brenda”. True story. It was karma. Everyone knew a dignitary was in their midst, but had no clue why. (Of course, it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t hurt that the friends watching our kids this past weekend are air traffic controllers and had our flight itinerary. Hey – it was special anyway!). However, I played it cool and didn't run up and down the aisle of the plane high-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;fiving&lt;/span&gt; everyone like you thought I might. I have some class. &lt;em&gt;Some&lt;/em&gt;. So, we just swaggered in our seats since we were taxiing after all and didn't want to get yelled at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather was sunny, as always, in Orlando – unfortunately it was also very warm. Near 80 Friday afternoon, which &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t bode well for the next morning – a projected low of 60 for Saturday morning at 6:00 a.m, with near 100% humidity expected. Say it with me now – &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ugghhhh&lt;/span&gt;!!! However, there was no turning back and my excitement was mounting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46mWKqYSeI/AAAAAAAAAHU/L1tu_6wdCug/s1600-h/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156241523135236578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="189" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46mWKqYSeI/AAAAAAAAAHU/L1tu_6wdCug/s320/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+014.jpg" width="278" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I met with my Team-In-Training group and we headed over to the Marathon Expo to pick up our race gear – bibs, chips, shirts, and other assorted goodies – at the Wide World of Sports complex. Notice how many men were from Charlotte. Destiny I tell you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46h1KqYSYI/AAAAAAAAAGk/szU7m7USKFM/s1600-h/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156236558153042306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="184" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46h1KqYSYI/AAAAAAAAAGk/szU7m7USKFM/s320/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+003.jpg" width="285" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you look up the word “lines” in the dictionary, there must be a picture of Disney World. The kind folks at Disney developed a process whereby participants had to wait in &lt;strong&gt;four&lt;/strong&gt; separate lines to get these items. Just like the rides, that took close to two hours. My feet were starting to hurt! But the countdown clock at the Expo said it all – 38 hours, 59 minutes and 4 seconds until the start of the marathon. Or, just over 14 hours until the start of my warm up run – the half marathon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46lxKqYSdI/AAAAAAAAAHM/kYfXIxRfqfs/s1600-h/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156240887480076754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="155" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46lxKqYSdI/AAAAAAAAAHM/kYfXIxRfqfs/s320/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+011.jpg" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Back to Coronado Springs on the Disney Bus we went, for one hour of rest before heading out to the Team-In-Training &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-race pasta dinner. Let me give you all a little tip should you try to replicate this effort. There are two seating times for dinner – one at 2:30 pm, and one at 6:30 pm. Be smart – take the early dinner. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t have a choice, but I wish I did. Dinner, slide shows, video, guest speakers – TNT did put on a show. A show that went until almost 9:00 pm, with multiple reference to how we may as well stay up, since we have to get up at 2:30 am to catch a bus to the starting line (at this point, I was sensing another line to stand in). The evening was quite energizing however, as dinner was held within the EPCOT World Showcase, and to enter the reception hall, all 2000 TNT &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;participants&lt;/span&gt; (yes 2000!) had to pass by TNT Coaches from around the country who were celebrating our arrival in a boisterous fashion. Deafening! I honestly thought it was a show going on at the Morocco country showcase nearby! That welcome set the tone for the rest of the weekend – the spirit and energy of the TNT participants, coaches, and even spectators was overwhelming! A real adrenaline rush….then I tried to crash and fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apparently, the big guy upstairs had other plans for me. While my head hit the pillow at 9:30 pm, stage 1 of REM &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t start until sometime after midnight. Maybe it was nervous energy, maybe it was Brenda’s snoring (just kidding dear), maybe it was bad pasta (it definitely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t the large chocolate cookie or lemon bars…those were good!). Whatever the reason, the 3 alarms we set to ensure we woke up came far too early. This is what it looked like to get dressed at 2:50 am. Say it with me now….&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ugghhhh&lt;/span&gt;! I wanted my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;blanky&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46npKqYSfI/AAAAAAAAAHc/5vhRccqK138/s1600-h/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156242949064378866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46npKqYSfI/AAAAAAAAAHc/5vhRccqK138/s320/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+017.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another bus to the start of the ½ marathon. Or more accurately, .6 miles from the start line, which we had to walk to at about 5:30 am. So, if you are tracking with me at this point, you may be asking yourself the same questions I did. Bus over at 3:30, start at 6:00…2 ½ hours unaccounted for. What did you do during that time??? Well, I am glad you asked. Hydrating. Pics with Mickey and Minnie. Hydrating. Banana eating. Hydrating. Yes, by 5:00 am it was time to pee. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Wheeeee&lt;/span&gt;!!! (or should I say wee-wee…)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, we had purchased the “Runners Retreat” package for the weekend races, which meant I had full access to specially designated Port-a-lets (lets just call it a potty) with little to no wait. If you have ever been to a big race before, the lines for these “potty’s” can get quite long. So a few (yes, few) trips later, it was about 5:15 (yes, twice in 15 minutes) and time for a last photo with Mickey (also a privilege of the “package”) and off to the start line. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You would never guess that in the time it takes to walk .6 miles that one could possibly need to “relieve” oneself another 2 – 3 times. Man, was I hydrated! But, there was a “wee” little problem here (FYI – it is time to stop writing in a blog when bathroom humor makes an appearance – but I don’t get to do this often!). I was out of the retreat area, and amongst the throngs of others who were over-hydrated as well, meaning the Disney-like lines had formed at the common folk potty’s. Guess they weren't on my plane to recognize that a dignitary was walking funny near them. Never fear though. Disney thought of everything, and must have apparently planted new bushes or trees in the past few weeks, because everyone was going over to admire and provide fertilization for them. I felt compelled to do the same. A few times. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, three. Now leave me alone, I just want to run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mickey, Minnie, Donald and Goofy kicked off the start with the National Anthem (I really wish Donald had a solo for that), and fireworks signaled the start of the race – 13.1 miles through the Magic Kingdom and Epcot and the roads in-between. Over 13,000 people started the race, and participants were split into 3 waves. I found myself in wave 1 (a clear indication that the Disney folks have heard of my running prowess), and with my disposable camera in tow, off I went. Donald even met me at the starting line for a photo. I am not sure why he was behind the barrier, other than he may have been concerned that I was going to need to relieve myself one final time… &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46jSKqYSaI/AAAAAAAAAG0/XEA3GVSUSWY/s1600-h/Disney+Half+-+Start+Donald.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156238155880876450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46jSKqYSaI/AAAAAAAAAG0/XEA3GVSUSWY/s320/Disney+Half+-+Start+Donald.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the next 13.1 miles, I ran like I never did before – with a huge smile plastered across my face. I was going to enjoy this experience if it killed me. Fortunately, I was having a blast – and did something I rarely do – ran without music playing on my MP3 player. There were bands and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;DJs&lt;/span&gt; spaced throughout the course, along with many spectators to urge you on. Perhaps the biggest thrill of the run was going through the Ticket &amp;amp; Transportation Center at the Magic Kingdom, and then running on Main Street in the Magic Kingdom, where a few thousand people were lined up. This beat the adrenaline rush from the night before. They were loud and my smile grew bigger. You would’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; thought I was winning the race!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What started as a 9:44 mile pace for mile one, had progressed to a 8:45 pace by mile 7 past the Magic Kingdom. I was feeling great and passing people with ease. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I knew I was going to pay for this the next day in the marathon. For those who know me when it comes to sports, it's 110% or nothing. Stupid slogan "give 110%". Those people never run long distances. But I had a ½ marathon goal, and that was to break 2 hours (about a 9:09/mile pace), and I fell behind that early on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends...have faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you will see below, I ran a negative split – the second half of the race was quicker than the first half, and my last few miles were completed in just over an 8:15/mile pace! Coming around the final bend in EPCOT, runners went past an amazing gospel choir decked out in gold robes singing to the heavens, and then we burst out towards the finish line – a 200 yard stretch with thousands of spectators cheering you on. Another adrenaline rush!!! I was on a runners high!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46pfqqYSgI/AAAAAAAAAHk/BWwhXGTMJ0E/s1600-h/Disney+Half+-+Ken+Finish.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156244984878877186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 255px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 161px" height="136" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46pfqqYSgI/AAAAAAAAAHk/BWwhXGTMJ0E/s320/Disney+Half+-+Ken+Finish.jpg" width="247" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Finish Time: 1:53:37 (8:40/mile)&lt;br /&gt;Finish Place: 964/12288 (top 8% &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;whoo&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;hooo&lt;/span&gt;!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t finish first, I was awarded a Donald Duck medal anyway (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;ssshh&lt;/span&gt; – my kids think I won the first part of the Goofy Challenge). My presenter was no Ms. Bass Lake - SHE WAS BETTER!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46jqKqYSbI/AAAAAAAAAG8/6hRJlWV7MJ0/s1600-h/Disney+Half+-+Medal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156238568197736882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 253px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" height="144" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46jqKqYSbI/AAAAAAAAAG8/6hRJlWV7MJ0/s320/Disney+Half+-+Medal.jpg" width="266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I went back out to mile 12 on the course to await Brenda, who was doing her first ½ marathon ever. Injuries slowed her down during the month of December, but she persevered through the elements as well and finished in 2:38:01. (She is in Orange/Blue sprinting to the finish!) A great day for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Bansemer&lt;/span&gt;’s!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46kR6qYScI/AAAAAAAAAHE/bib1RW-mteg/s1600-h/Disney+Half+-+Brenda+Finish+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156239251097536962" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 263px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 167px" height="185" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46kR6qYScI/AAAAAAAAAHE/bib1RW-mteg/s320/Disney+Half+-+Brenda+Finish+2.jpg" width="280" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One third of the goal accomplished, two-thirds to go Sunday morning. And Goofy still &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;hadn&lt;/span&gt;’t tracked me down for a photo. He hates confrontation and admitting he could have been wrong about me. I'd show him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Details of the marathon and the wardrobe malfunctions will come in a few days! And a special visit from some friends (no, not Goofy)! And my thoughts on doing this all again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for staying with me….you don't want this journey to end either, do you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Half Marathon results: &lt;a href="http://results.active.com/pages/searchform.jsp?rsID=51041"&gt;http://results.active.com/pages/searchform.jsp?rsID=51041&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Half Marathon Mile Splits&lt;br /&gt;1 – 9:44.08&lt;br /&gt;2 – 9:18.87&lt;br /&gt;3 – 9:10.65&lt;br /&gt;4/5 – 17:28.21&lt;br /&gt;6 – 8:52.25&lt;br /&gt;7 – 8:44.77&lt;br /&gt;8 – 8:24.21&lt;br /&gt;9 – 8:15.29&lt;br /&gt;10 – 8:01.25&lt;br /&gt;11 – 8:22.14&lt;br /&gt;12 – 8:11.86&lt;br /&gt;13.1 – 9:04.13&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-46095969620992212?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/46095969620992212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=46095969620992212' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/46095969620992212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/46095969620992212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2008/01/note-to-self-dont-drink-so-much.html' title='Note to Self - Don&apos;t Drink So Much'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R46vzaqYShI/AAAAAAAAAHs/xsanj7FtXWk/s72-c/2560x1600_donald.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-2123222812843282140</id><published>2008-01-14T19:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T19:58:24.328-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Around the World in ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4wCoaqYSWI/AAAAAAAAAGU/M-CnlIwT3ZY/s1600-h/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155498566807472482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 261px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 178px" height="216" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4wCoaqYSWI/AAAAAAAAAGU/M-CnlIwT3ZY/s400/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+016.jpg" width="290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; .... a day-and-a-half??? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, I may be slow, but even 38 hours is a stretch for me! It may have been possible had I waited in "E ticket" lines (a reference for you Disney oldies out there!) for rides at each park and stopped in for a character breakfast or two (since I was up at 2:30 am each day). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since the Disney "runner alert" tracker didn't work as planned, you may not know how, or if, I finished the half and full marathons. They say a picture is worth a thousand words...and a well placed palm tree conveniently concealing my time is worth many more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4wDe6qYSXI/AAAAAAAAAGc/oKhKuzAaTU8/s1600-h/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+074.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155499503110343026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4wDe6qYSXI/AAAAAAAAAGc/oKhKuzAaTU8/s400/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+074.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For full results (meaning...if you really want to see how fast or slow I was, you are going to have to work some for it!), check out the Disney Marathon results page at: &lt;a href="http://disneyworldsports.disney.go.com/dwws/en_US/marathon/listing?name=MarathonEventListingPage2&amp;amp;bhcp=1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://disneyworldsports.disney.go.com/dwws/en_US/marathon/listing?name=MarathonEventListingPage2&amp;amp;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bhcp&lt;/span&gt;=1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the rest of the story (teaser: multiple wardrobe malfunctions), and many more pictures, please return in a few days. You'll have to cut me some slack as I try to get some rest. After all, a 38-hour 39.3 mile run for this near 40 year-old has left me exhausted!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-2123222812843282140?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/2123222812843282140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=2123222812843282140' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/2123222812843282140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/2123222812843282140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2008/01/around-world-in.html' title='Around the World in ...'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4wCoaqYSWI/AAAAAAAAAGU/M-CnlIwT3ZY/s72-c/Goofy+Challenge+-+Jan+2007+016.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-5840129381754711792</id><published>2008-01-10T18:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T18:59:55.393-05:00</updated><title type='text'>M - I - C......See You Real Soon....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4axZ6qYSVI/AAAAAAAAAGM/1GpbwnF15XM/s1600-h/Mr+Incredible.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154001882373966162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="122" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4axZ6qYSVI/AAAAAAAAAGM/1GpbwnF15XM/s400/Mr+Incredible.jpg" width="253" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The “brilliant” thought, which originated sometime in 2006, may have seemed like it was straight from a fairy tale: Make turning 40 memorable – a &lt;strong&gt;HAPPY&lt;/strong&gt; occasion. From that simple thought grew what some would say was a &lt;strong&gt;MICKEY&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;MOUSE&lt;/strong&gt; idea…running all &lt;strong&gt;GOOFY&lt;/strong&gt; like throughout Walt Disney World for 39.3 miles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DONALD&lt;/strong&gt;, my dad, had a reaction that was typical of most... like Iwas from another planet such as &lt;strong&gt;PLUTO&lt;/strong&gt;. Rather than put out that much effort, he suggested I run a &lt;strong&gt;MINNIE&lt;/strong&gt; marathon. Now, I may be &lt;strong&gt;DOPEY&lt;/strong&gt; at times, but I certainly am not &lt;strong&gt;BASHFUL&lt;/strong&gt; at attempting something new and different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for further inspiration, I signed up with Team-In-Training in the summer of 2007. It turns out that was a great decision. I told my team &lt;strong&gt;CAPTAIN&lt;/strong&gt;, “I’m &lt;strong&gt;HOOK&lt;/strong&gt;ed”! &lt;strong&gt;CHIP&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;DALE&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;DAISY&lt;/strong&gt; and the triplets, &lt;strong&gt;HUEY&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;DEWEY&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;LOUIE&lt;/strong&gt; have each provided great motivation as running partners over the past 4 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The training runs haven’t all been easy, and I often arrive home (my personal castle) to find our cat, &lt;strong&gt;TIGGER&lt;/strong&gt;, rubbing against my sore &lt;strong&gt;WOODY&lt;/strong&gt;-like legs. He doesn’t understand...I need to rest my sore &lt;strong&gt;PIG&lt;/strong&gt;s, &lt;strong&gt;LET&lt;/strong&gt;ting them recover. After putting in over 30 miles each week, I am &lt;strong&gt;POOH&lt;/strong&gt;ped. Most Saturdays, I am &lt;strong&gt;SLEEPY&lt;/strong&gt; after a good workout, and I have tried to be careful about not overtraining. However, I did get injured briefly in November, and went to see the &lt;strong&gt;DOC&lt;/strong&gt;, who told me to take it easy. But like a postal carrier, neither rain, sleet or &lt;strong&gt;SNOW&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;WHITE&lt;/strong&gt; and cold as it may be, has kept me from making my appointed training rounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have enjoyed blogging about this &lt;strong&gt;MISSION&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;TO&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;MARS&lt;/strong&gt;, and am thankful that loyal readers and financial supporters like &lt;strong&gt;ALICE&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;ARIEL&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;BELLE&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;JASMINE&lt;/strong&gt; have kept me focused on the ultimate end goal. At times, I may have looked like a &lt;strong&gt;TRAMP&lt;/strong&gt;, flopped around like a &lt;strong&gt;FLOUNDER&lt;/strong&gt;, and got lost in my own &lt;strong&gt;FANTASYLAND&lt;/strong&gt;, but my old &lt;strong&gt;LADY&lt;/strong&gt; has made sure I stayed well grounded (ouch...but you have to admit, it works!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, tomorrow morning, I am off to the “Happiest Place on Earth”, and hope for a little race day magic to carry me along. If my happy feet can’t do the job, I will seek alternative forms of transportation, such as &lt;strong&gt;ALADDIN&lt;/strong&gt;’s magic carpet, &lt;strong&gt;TINKER&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;BELL&lt;/strong&gt;’s pixie dust (and faith and trust), a monorail, or even a leisurely &lt;strong&gt;JUNGLE&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;CRUISE&lt;/strong&gt; to make the 39.3 miles through the &lt;strong&gt;COUNTRY&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;BEAR&lt;/strong&gt;-able. At the end, the even &lt;strong&gt;JAMBOREE&lt;/strong&gt; at Pleasure Island should rock!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One can only hope the weather will cooperate. After all, I have created a lot of &lt;strong&gt;BUZZ&lt;/strong&gt; about this challenge, and warm temperatures could cause me to take many a &lt;strong&gt;LIGHTYEAR &lt;/strong&gt;to cross the finish line. Even if that is the case, it will all be worth it. After all, I will finish with a huge smile, arms raised, chest puffed, and prove I am no &lt;strong&gt;DUMBO&lt;/strong&gt;. I can already see the headline next week…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Finishing 1st in the Walt Disney World Marathon (and Half!) - &lt;strong&gt;MR. INCREDIBLE&lt;/strong&gt;!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that’s a fairy tale!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;P.S. - Grandma - I'll be thinking of you every step of the way!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-5840129381754711792?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/5840129381754711792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=5840129381754711792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/5840129381754711792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/5840129381754711792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2008/01/m-i-csee-you-real-soon.html' title='M - I - C......See You Real Soon....'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4axZ6qYSVI/AAAAAAAAAGM/1GpbwnF15XM/s72-c/Mr+Incredible.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-3406657029502310088</id><published>2008-01-07T21:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T22:54:01.554-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Are You Following Me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R3KxUaqYR5I/AAAAAAAAACs/OCcFBCvvhUA/s1600-h/stopwatch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148372288350472082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R3KxUaqYR5I/AAAAAAAAACs/OCcFBCvvhUA/s320/stopwatch.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the loyal readers of my 39.3 and counting blog (are there any???), I know you are sad that the entries are quickly coming to an end with race weekend approaching. You have endured my ups-and-downs over the past 4+ months, and probably like me, are saying to yourself "let's do it!" Of course, you are saying that from the comfort of your couch, recliner, bed or bathtub, while I have been muttering it during the course of the 500 or so miles I have run since September.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, never fear. The Wonderful World of Disney has thought of it all, and is allowing the folks at home to run along with me on race day! Free of charge too - most un-Disney like! I've heard your rumblings - "nuts", "stupid", "why", "Goofy" and even "Goofus". You have questioned my sanity, my love for chocolate, and choice of TV shows, but so far, I haven't heard you question my running ability. WHEW!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Therefore, from the comfort of your own home, you can check out my progress (during the marathon only) during race day (Jan 13) by using the link below. They have made it simple - create a login, enter my name, and determine the method (text, email, pager) by which you want to be notified of my split times at various points during the marathon. What better way to be entertained during a Sunday morning while you are all at mass. Hee-hee. A few "AMENs" in my honor during service wouldn't hurt. And slip in a few prayers for me with big Guy while you are at at!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.activeresult.com/results/MSG-signup.tcl?sub_event_id=4447"&gt;http://www.activeresult.com/results/MSG-signup.tcl?sub_event_id=4447&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now mind you, gun time on each day is 6:00 am EST. That is 5:00 am for my many friends in the CST, and 3:00 am on the west coast. Make sure you set those alarms to go off early to follow along real-time. 'Cause like most elite runners, I don't plan on dilly-dallying around on the course. That is, unless I spot a princess calling me over for a photo opp, a donut stand, a massage table, a waiting monorail, or something else I might love as a distraction around mile 17. For me, it's all about setting the right priorities!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-3406657029502310088?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/3406657029502310088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=3406657029502310088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/3406657029502310088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/3406657029502310088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2008/01/are-you-following-me.html' title='Are You Following Me?'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R3KxUaqYR5I/AAAAAAAAACs/OCcFBCvvhUA/s72-c/stopwatch.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-9128501817445406500</id><published>2008-01-05T09:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T22:51:24.677-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The History of the Goofy Challenge</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4AT4KqYSSI/AAAAAAAAAF0/RFNlIoJLkWc/s1600-h/Goofy1990.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152139829367556386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="166" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4AT4KqYSSI/AAAAAAAAAF0/RFNlIoJLkWc/s200/Goofy1990.jpg" width="127" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4ATtaqYSRI/AAAAAAAAAFs/eKhceeCt7dY/s1600-h/Goofy#1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152139644683962642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="157" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4ATtaqYSRI/AAAAAAAAAFs/eKhceeCt7dY/s200/Goofy%231.jpg" width="119" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4ATj6qYSQI/AAAAAAAAAFk/hbOK06Sr5ak/s1600-h/Goofy3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152139481475205378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 92px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 139px" height="165" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4ATj6qYSQI/AAAAAAAAAFk/hbOK06Sr5ak/s200/Goofy3.jpg" width="100" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;atomicelement id="ms__id7"&gt;&lt;atomicelement id="ms__id48"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4AIm6qYSFI/AAAAAAAAAEM/fLgetyqDY7o/s1600-h/Goofy1990.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/atomicelement&gt;&lt;/atomicelement&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The upcoming running weekend has me giddy with excitement. But perhaps not for the reasons you think. Now don't get me wrong, I am running for some wonderful causes. Raising money for the Leukemia &amp;amp; Lymphoma Society has brought me great satisfaction. I have never tried my hand at fundraising, and to have over 90 individuals contribute nearly $7,000 to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;LLS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; in support of my running effort is really amazing. The other great cause is to celebrate my journey to another age milestone. Turning 40 could be viewed by many as a depressing time. While I have mixed thoughts about it since I don't feel 40, and certainly don't act 40 (let alone 20), I have decided to make it quite special by running 39.3 miles (and then some) at the Disney World Marathon Weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;While good reasons to be excited, I have one greater reason. I will be reunited with my good friend, Goofy. You see, we go way back. My first trip to Disney was in the early 1970's, and during multiple visits since then, the big fella and I have renewed acquaintances and swapped stories. In 1990 (left photo), I was working out regularly and Disney hadn't even held their Marathon Weekend. At that time, we discussed the possibility of a footrace throughout the Magic Kingdom, but lets face it, it is difficult to have a deep conversation while racing down the water slides. However, Goofy eventually agreed to discuss my thoughts with his good friend, some mousy guy named Mickey. Wouldn't you know it, three years later the Walt Disney Marathon was born (and I had a hand in it)! When I returned in 1998 (center photo), I had gained a little weight, and so had Goofy. We were both a bit mad that this Mickey dude had a 26.2 mile race, and his pal, Donald, had a 13.1 race that same day. Goofy was concerned that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;freakin&lt;/span&gt;' Pluto was going to get his own race soon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To make a long story short, we brainstormed many options, but settled upon putting the two races on back-to-back days, and because it was such a "crazy" notion (running 39.3 miles in about 28 hours), it would be called the Goofy Challenge. The rest is history....almost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The last time Goofy and I crossed paths was during a trip in 2003 with my daughter, Erika, where we discussed his "little race Challenge", and my ability to do it. Oh, you had to be there as we ribbed one another! He questioned whether I was fit enough. I reminded him what great shape I was in back in '90 during one of our previous reunions. Buff... But then he issued the ultimate challenge...through Erika. Whispered in her ear that I couldn't do it. Getting old. Slow. Since that day, I have been hearing it from her for the last 5 years. So...now you know the history of the Goofy Challenge, and how I got sucked into participating this year. Have to show the big-boy that I still have it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am sure we will cross paths again next weekend...he'll be laughing at me and questioning my ability, and I'll be looking to capture the moment on film when I cross 2 finish lines, with arms raised in triumph. A Goofy Challenge success story.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Special moments, a special bond. Based on our relationship, I sometimes I think I could be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Goofy's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; long-lost little brother...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Goofus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-9128501817445406500?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/9128501817445406500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=9128501817445406500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/9128501817445406500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/9128501817445406500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2008/01/history-of-goofy-challenge.html' title='The History of the Goofy Challenge'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R4AT4KqYSSI/AAAAAAAAAF0/RFNlIoJLkWc/s72-c/Goofy1990.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-5244701842679325131</id><published>2007-12-31T16:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T17:18:32.910-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Confucius Says...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R3lqIqqYSDI/AAAAAAAAAD8/RVNzb5227XA/s1600-h/confucius.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150264345998411826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 117px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 156px" height="125" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R3lqIqqYSDI/AAAAAAAAAD8/RVNzb5227XA/s320/confucius.jpg" width="91" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;" Blah, blah, blah...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My running journey in 2007 began on January 1st, at 11:30 a.m. with a 4 mile, 34:42 outdoor run in 65 degree weather (it pays to journal). It concluded today, December 31st, at approximately 4:02 pm with a 4 mile, 38:26 treadmill run (tapering, remember - going slower!), as I completed my &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;1,000th&lt;/span&gt; mile of running for the year. Quite a year! Figure a conservative 9:30/mile average over the year, and I ran for 6.6 days, or over 158 hours. Not quite Forrest Gump-like, but good enough. I have been fortunate to have good health for the year, an understanding family, and the determination to keep going. Even accomplished a "double-double" - like an NBA player - with another 1307 miles logged on the bike. Ok, so this probably isn't that rare, but for me, it will probably not happen again. The year of Ken is coming to an end - fitness, fundraising, friends and fun were all a part of 2007.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What will 2008 bring? I doubt another 1,000 miles running. But as Confucius, that wise old Chinese philosopher says, it all begins with a single step. So tomorrow I will rise (hopefully later than usual and without a headache or bellyache), put one foot in front of the other, and see where my Nike's might take me.  And I hope the journey is just as special as it was in 2007!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-5244701842679325131?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/5244701842679325131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=5244701842679325131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/5244701842679325131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/5244701842679325131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/12/confucius-says.html' title='Confucius Says...'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R3lqIqqYSDI/AAAAAAAAAD8/RVNzb5227XA/s72-c/confucius.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-3640464143213664312</id><published>2007-12-29T11:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T11:31:39.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream A Little Dream With Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R3LBgaqYR7I/AAAAAAAAAC8/B8rmixcpy1U/s1600-h/mojo+medal+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148390086694946738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 229px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 171px" height="171" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R3LBgaqYR7I/AAAAAAAAAC8/B8rmixcpy1U/s320/mojo+medal+001.jpg" width="249" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;With 2007 coming to an end, I thought I'd share a true story from this past July. While this story isn't about running, the plot line could easily apply to the upcoming Goofy Challenge. It may make you laugh, it may make you cry. I probably did both, and soon you'll know why. Pull up a chair and take 10-15 minutes to enjoy. Happy New Year!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My Day as an “A” Rider&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Everyone should have dreams. Hopes of accomplishing the impossible. My lifelong dream is (note – not was) to play centerfield for the Chicago Cubs. Someday. Being a longer-distance runner for the past 7 years, I have entertained the thought of finishing on “the podium”, a recognition fitting only to those that finish as the top 3 runners of a race. Of course, let’s face reality. I really don’t work that hard in my training for that to ever become a reality. Oreo’s and M&amp;amp;M’s do put a damper on one’s training plan. However, in one’s lifetime, it would be nice to have a podium finish in something. Like competitive eating, the Mr. Universe contest, or the best yard in town. So far, none of those have bestowed upon me either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two years ago I started biking with a group called the Mojo’s. No, this isn’t a group of bikers like Hell’s Angels. We ride road bikes (fancy, expensive bicycles), and wear neon pink and green spandex uniforms. Even Hell’s Angels don’t want to come near us! When I first started biking, going 30 miles in one stretch was unimaginable. Now it is a warm-up. The Mojo biking team has brought many moments of laughter and excitement to what used to be drab weekend mornings for me. Since this group consists of riders of all levels, we have affectionately been split by our sometimes over-zealous captain into “A”, “B” and “Lite” riders. I fall into the “B” ranks, which is somewhat difficult to take for a person who always has considered himself in the “A” ranks in whatever I did – sports, spelling bees, academics, and channel surfing to name a few. “A” riders are fast. Really fast. Sometimes affectionately called “Hammerheads” for their ability to put the pedal-to-the-medal. “B” riders are always a step behind, able to see the “A’s” in the distance, but never able to keep up the pace for a sustained period of time. “B’s” are cool, not fast. We are able to carry on conversations about the “A’s” with each other while riding, rather than just sucking wind. I cherish my role as a “B”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happened to be last month that I was heading out-of-town on a prolonged business/personal trip that would have me away from home for nearly 3 weeks. Since I was going to miss the weekend Mojo team rides, and important training for an upcoming 150-mile bike ride to benefit Multiple Sclerosis, I decided to bring my bike with me nearly 700 miles to Bass Lake, Indiana, where I would be staying for 4 days. And yes, I packed the pink and green spandex as well. Gotta look good at the lake. The ladies would be watching!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Friday, July 27th:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I knew, at this lake, 8-miles in circumference, that I could get in some quality early morning distance rides. So it was an added bonus when our family arrived on a Friday afternoon, that we learned it was &lt;em&gt;“Bass Lake Summer Festival Weekend”&lt;/em&gt;. Activities for all ages, the signs proclaimed. A carnival for my kids, a parade, pancake breakfasts, and wouldn’t you know it – the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bass Lake Bike Race&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; on Sunday morning. I was excited, not because it was a race, but because it would allow me to ride with a group of people, just like the Mojo’s. I quickly located a registration form in what barely passed for a local newspaper. This is Bass Lake, Indiana people – population of like 46. But in the summer, and on Bass Lake Summer Festival Weekend, the population soars into the millions. I was so happy to know I could proudly wear my Mojo colors on race morning, and stretch my legs, that I set out to do 4 loops around the lake on Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Saturday, July 28th: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;That Saturday morning was the prestigious Bass Lake 5k Run/Walk race. As a runner, I contemplated entering. But I knew I had a mission. I dragged my bike 700+ miles, so I was going to ride! And ride I did Saturday – a total of 4 loops around the lake, passing the same traffic officer 3 times who was tending to the tremendous amount of Bass Lake traffic (basically me at 7:00 a.m.). I was flying, head down, really trying to get in a good workout. On the 2nd loop, I shouted to him, “Am I winning?” He responded with a hearty “Race is tomorrow”. Duh – I was joking (I guess to myself, apparently). On my next loop, he shouted “Save it for tomorrow.” Save what? I am no Lance Armstrong, and sprinting once around an 8-mile lake wasn’t my idea of fun. Remember, hard training is for podium finishers. I was there for a casual workout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening, my wife (Brenda) and I were discussing the race. We happened to be staying at a lake house of some family friends. The house also happened to be on the route which the bike race would be coming by – at approximately mile 6 of the 8-mile race. So when she nonchalantly asked when the race would start, I casually responded “8:00 a.m. But since this is Bass Lake time, more like 8:26 am.” Now I had a good reason for being flippant. During my Saturday morning bike ride, I was expecting to get stopped by officer-friendly due to the throngs of runners/walkers from the 5k. However, I didn’t see them until about 7:30 a.m., so I figured they started that race late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Race Day, Sunday, July 29th: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Sunday morning rolled around much too early for this “B” rider. After all, I was on vacation, and sleeping in is something normal folks would do. But being a “true Mojo”, I got up early and decided to warm up with a lap around the lake before checking in at the Community Center for the race. By 7:30 a.m., I was ready to go, decked out in my team colors and beginning to size up the competition. I am sure they were doing the same of me, since I stood out in the crowd. After all, I exuded “manly-ness” in my uniform. I learned that fellow competitors had come from all parts of the country for the opportunity to compete in this prestigious one-lap sprint. Al Hortford came from Phoenix, Arizona, and I came from Charlotte, North Carolina. Since this was in Indiana, you can see how I came to the conclusion that people came from “all parts of the country” for this race. As for prestigious, I also learned that this race originated way back in the mid 1930s – a very long standing tradition at the &lt;em&gt;Bass Lake Summer Festival&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the starting line, we were informed that a number of “Barney Fife’s” would be monitoring traffic on the side streets, while the competitive riders would follow a squad car of one of Indiana’s finest state troopers. No issues there. Being a “B” rider, unless he was pulling me with a tow rope, I wasn’t planning on getting near his bumper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Bang!” The gun went off. Ok, that sounds quite dramatic. Rather, it was some dude yelling “ready, set, go.” Time-keepers were in place with stop-watches at this non-Tour-de-France qualifier. Now, I should mention that you needed to be 15 years or older to “compete” in the Bass Lake Bike Race. That meant many non-competitive riders lined up at the back of the pack, and I suddenly found myself near the front when the “gun” when off. Not wanting to get run over, I quickly made a “slow” get away from the start and settled in behind some of the more experienced “A” riders, who were also decked out in their multi-colored riding tights (not that I was looking at their tights). In the first ½ mile, I anxiously waited for someone to sprint away, so I could settle into my 27-minute loop around the lake, just like I did four times the day before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Two miles in. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;The first attempted burst ahead was from a rider that was with the Murphy Family Reunion that weekend. No tights. Just a Murphy Family Reunion shirt to identify him. Not a serious threat to the group I thought, and all the riders quickly put on a burst of speed to stay with him. Hey, I was in that group too! Ridin’ with the pack. What a fun feeling! So this is what the peloton feels like at the Tour-de-France – able to catch any rider that tried to pull away from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Four miles in.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Strange thoughts began to enter my mind as I was still in the middle of the pack following Joe Trooper. No, not thoughts about winning the race – winning is only for hammerheads. Instead, I began to get excited that if I could hang with the “A” riders for 2 miles more, I could possibly be in the lead when we passed the lake house where my family was staying. I knew they’d be outside watching on this beautiful day. It would be a hoot to have their very own Mojo in the lead, incredibly special and have my kids cheering me on. My heart started beating faster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Five-and-a-half miles in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I made my move to the outside of the pack and sprinted to the front. I think I had everyone intimidated, as they quickly followed suit. Perhaps my nice bike, fancy shades, and a uniform unlike any other this town had ever seen, had them worried that I was going to sprint for the next 2.5 miles to the finish. I guess it was my own little joke, as I was only sprinting to the lake house. “Ha!” I thought. Around the curve in the road I came. Whooo-whooo-whooo went the officer’s siren announcing to all that the racers were coming. Up ahead, I could see my father-in-law on the side of the road leaning out to get a good look. Naturally, I assumed everyone else in the family was behind him. I had a good look too, because at that moment, this “B” rider was &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;IN THE LEAD!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Six miles in. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;As I passed by the lake house, I quickly glanced to the front door, and saw my wife coming outside. If anyone ever doubted that I was racer, those thoughts were being wiped away at this moment. I rode by with an ear-to-ear grin, and flashed each of them a “hang-loose” sign. Now it may not have been the proper thing to do, but heck, I was &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;IN THE LEAD.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I must’ve had everyone else in the racing pack pretty worried at that moment, because they were glued to my back wheel, making sure I didn’t get away from them. Or as smart riders would call it, drafting off the stupid guy exerting energy while &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;IN THE LEAD&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Six-and-a-half miles in. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;For the next ½ mile or so, I remained &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;IN THE LEAD&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, smiling in case Poncherello was taking pictures out the back window of his squad car. The finish line was rapidly coming closer, and at that moment…”whoosh”, the “A” riders decided to show who was the boss and blew by me for a sprint to the finish, leaving me in their dust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Seven-and-a-half miles in. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;However, I wasn’t defeated. I knew I wouldn’t finish last in the pack of lead riders. How did I know that? Because as a fresh faced 18-year old was racing with me side-by-side, I heard him shout behind us, “c’mon grandpa”. That was music to my ears. I was going to beat grandpa. And I did, crossing the finish line in an amazing 22:14! Unfortunately, I wasn’t good enough for a podium finish in the overall race classification, and I settled for an approximate 10th place finish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But wait! They were doing 1st place awards for age group finishers. Might I have been good enough to win in the 35 – 39 year old group? I shuffled on over to the “official scorers” table to check out my chances. Hmmm, I thought – definitely some competition based on the age group sign-in sheets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So rather than go back to the lake house, I decided to stick around for the awarding of the 1st place finisher medals. Of course, this did not take place until after riders of all abilities completed the bike race – which took some people nearly 50 minutes. By this time, the nervous energy coursing through my body would’ve been highly visible to others, had it not been for the Mojo uniform bringing a great sense of calm and confidence over me. You have to be self-confident when wearing pink and green in the middle of Indiana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After graciously clapping for the overall winners, and secretly cursing them for drafting off of me, the time had arrived. The race organizer announced &lt;strong&gt;“first place amongst males in the 35 – 39 year old age group, Ken Bansemer”. &lt;/strong&gt;Yeah! An inward fist-pump, who’s your daddy celebration ensued. Outwardly – a calm smile and wave to the overflowing crowd at the Community Center (I think the pancake breakfast was starting there soon). And then, the 1st place finisher’s medal was placed over my head and around my neck by none other than &lt;strong&gt;Miss Bass Lake 2007!&lt;/strong&gt; My day couldn’t get any better than this!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Epilogue (and the truth):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of the story above is fiction. Al Hortford (88) was in town from Phoenix, Arizona to celebrate his 70th high school reunion in nearby Knox, Indiana. He was the winner of the first Bass Lake Bike Race around 1936, and was presented a special award. He also looked intimidating in his spandex racing outfit, not that I was looking. I can only hope I am still “racing” at his age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the start of the race, there were about 12 – 15 serious riders lined up, out of about 75 total. I knew I wouldn’t win, and wasn’t trying to, but it sure felt good to whiz around the lake, and draft off of others in a competitive manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miss Bass Lake 2007 was crowned earlier in the week. Despite the fact that getting awarded by her sounds glorious, it was a let-down as she was about 17. I would have preferred the 2nd runner-up. Pickin’s were slim at the Miss Bass Lake contest this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the race, I went back to the lake house to celebrate with family. Seated around the kitchen table, which was within viewing distance of the race course, was my wife, my in-laws, and the owners of the lake house. First question out of my mouth was, “did you see me in the lead as I passed the house?” More of a statement, than a question. However, my wife’s head dropped down, and I heard the soft murmur of a “no”. “What do you mean? I saw you coming out of the house as I passed by?” It was then I learned the “rest of the story” as Paul Harvey would say. The woman coming out of the house as I passed by was my mother-in-law. (Friends – let me pass along some free advice to you. It is always a good thing to mistake your mother-in-law for your wife. Those are brownie points right there.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In trying to understand where Brenda was during my once-in-a-lifetime moment of glory, I learned she was still in bed. Apparently, my flippant comment of the race starting at 8:26 a.m. came back to haunt me. She was getting out of bed at 8:13 a.m. and was still upstairs when I raced by behind TJ Hooker. So the actual communication chain within the lake house of my feat went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;· Mother-In-Law yells from the porch to my 8-year old daughter, Erika, who is in the kitchen, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Daddy is in the lead!”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;· Erika yells to my 4-year old son, Ryan, who is in the other room, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“Daddy is in the lead!”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;· Ryan runs upstairs to tell a sleepy Brenda, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Daddy is in the lead!”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;· Brenda better have muttered, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“Oh, sh*t”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No video of the moment. No cameras of the pack behind me. Only my memories of whizzing by the house, with a pack of riders furiously trying to close the distance of my lead, will sustain me in the years to come. And my medal…and Miss Bass Lake (in future stories to be 24, blond, in spandex and real fine…)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, to assure you that there is meaning in this story beyond the podium finish, there were only three males entered in the 35 – 39 year old category. I whipped the other two but good (writer’s embellishment). Then again, there were six entrants in the 40 – 44 year old category, and they all beat me. Guess I have something to look forward to next year, when I turn 40. I am going to get better with age! Watch out Al.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I may be “B” rider, but “daddy was in the lead” and was an “A” rider for a day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ken Bansemer&lt;br /&gt;A proud Mojo and podium finisher.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148390919918602178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 201px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 145px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="136" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R3LCQ6qYR8I/AAAAAAAAADE/AvC3p49cNPQ/s320/mojo+medal+003.jpg" width="204" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;P.S. - The medal is bigger than it looks. Really.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-3640464143213664312?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/3640464143213664312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=3640464143213664312' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/3640464143213664312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/3640464143213664312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/12/dream-little-dream-with-me.html' title='Dream A Little Dream With Me'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R3LBgaqYR7I/AAAAAAAAAC8/B8rmixcpy1U/s72-c/mojo+medal+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-1171064757046904419</id><published>2007-12-26T14:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T14:31:32.181-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tricks of the Trade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R3Kr96qYR4I/AAAAAAAAACk/uppjCrWhprk/s1600-h/dumbo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148366404245276546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="171" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R3Kr96qYR4I/AAAAAAAAACk/uppjCrWhprk/s320/dumbo.jpg" width="182" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'd like to share one of the little tricks runners may use to gain an advantage in a competitive environment. No, I am not referring to HGH or other illegal enhancements. Instead, I am referring to something like "down-force" (a NASCAR term), or being "aerodynamically sound" (a biking term). "Drafting," commonly used in those two sports, uses the car or person in front of you to "break the wind" (yes, Beavis would be chuckling now...), to allow the object behind them to move forward using less energy. I am all about drafting, and I'll admit, even sometimes being the one to break the wind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, I know this sounds all technical and stuff. But it is quite simple. Let the person in the lead do all the work, while you exert less energy. I learned a lot about drafting these past few years while riding with the Mojo's. One of my fellow riders, we'll call her Rhonda, is notorious for slipping her bike in behind a larger rider, and literally coasting for 50 miles (or maybe it just seems that way while I pedal furiously). She, being of tiny stature, makes the most of her workouts, and is always fresh at the end of the ride (she's so darn chipper!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I sought to employ the drafting strategy a few years ago at the Las Vegas Half-Marathon. I was coming off a Personal Record (PR) 3 months earlier in Niagara Falls, and was looking to do even better in Vegas. I trained hard leading up to the race, only to find out race day that the conditions were quite blustery. Approximately 20 - 30 mph headwinds for the first 10 miles. Being a bright guy, and of small stature, I quickly decided to tuck in behind a larger runner to conserve energy during the race. While that strategy may seem good on the racetrack, or while on a bike, I am here to tell you that in running it meant diddly! The wind found me. You can't run closely enough behind someone to have it make a difference. Perhaps I didn't pick a large enough runner. Maybe I didn't sleep well enough the night before (Vegas, baby!). Maybe I wasn't hydrated enough. Or maybe it just wasn't meant to be. In the end, I may have saved a few seconds, but not enough to matter, as I finished 50 seconds too slow to set another PR.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is there a moral to this story? Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is that wind is not my friend when it comes to running, unless it is a tailwind. However, if there is wind at Disney on race day, you better believe I am going to tuck in behind something large to shield me from the elements. I can only hope that Dumbo is registered and in the same corral as me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-1171064757046904419?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/1171064757046904419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=1171064757046904419' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/1171064757046904419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/1171064757046904419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/12/tricks-of-trade.html' title='Tricks of the Trade'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R3Kr96qYR4I/AAAAAAAAACk/uppjCrWhprk/s72-c/dumbo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-6815735741256928733</id><published>2007-12-20T19:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T19:04:21.500-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You Ain't Got A Thing, If You Ain't Got That Bling</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R2sBlqqYR3I/AAAAAAAAACc/qNjktKQAn_g/s1600-h/Running+Medals+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146208745819752306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 260px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 183px" height="194" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R2sBlqqYR3I/AAAAAAAAACc/qNjktKQAn_g/s320/Running+Medals+001.jpg" width="270" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When it comes to distance running, I may be on a streak that is unmatched in history. It is difficult enough to win one race over the course of a running career. Yet, I have managed to win 11 straight (1 marathon and 10 half-marathons)! This streak has stretched from 2000 until today, and barring any unforeseen circumstances, I fully expect to chalk up two more back-to-back victories in early 2008 in Disney World.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The secret to my success rests not in crossing the finish line first and breaking the tape. Heck, any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;schmo&lt;/span&gt; can pull a Rosie Ruiz and do that. And let me tell you, I am not any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;schmo&lt;/span&gt;! Nope, I am a winner at every race because I have children who believe in me. Like they believe in Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. Truth be told, Erika is beginning to wonder whether I am really winning. Yes, I come home with a medal from every race - and in our home, it is a FIRST PLACE MEDAL!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After each race, whether out-of-town, or local, I come home with "the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bling&lt;/span&gt;" around my neck, and the kids come running up. "Did you win?", they asked. "Was there ever a doubt?", I respond (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ok...&lt;/span&gt;think to myself). Then I flash the medal - "Yes, daddy won the race!" Hugs, kisses, great job, smiles. It makes all the hours of training worth it to come home to that reception.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't run for fitness. I don't run to visit great locations (Niagara Falls, Virginia Beach, Colorado mountains, Vegas, Disney). I run for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;bling&lt;/span&gt;. And as a result, I am a winner!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-6815735741256928733?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/6815735741256928733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=6815735741256928733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/6815735741256928733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/6815735741256928733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/12/you-aint-got-thing-if-you-aint-got-that.html' title='You Ain&apos;t Got A Thing, If You Ain&apos;t Got That Bling'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R2sBlqqYR3I/AAAAAAAAACc/qNjktKQAn_g/s72-c/Running+Medals+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-8719111078139585262</id><published>2007-12-15T11:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-23T13:00:50.788-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's All Downhill From Here</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R2QOFaqYR2I/AAAAAAAAACU/mh1H1BImlgo/s1600-h/Thunder+Road.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144252160583157602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="179" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R2QOFaqYR2I/AAAAAAAAACU/mh1H1BImlgo/s320/Thunder+Road.jpg" width="133" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today (for me) was the day that most, if not all, periodic marathoners dread. The "long-run" - 20 miles. This is the longest run we do in our training preparation prior to the actual marathon. I just completed mine not more than 90 minutes ago. This date sticks out like a sore thumb on the calendar months in advance, and it creeps closer like a pending apocalypse. There is anticipation, fear, self-doubt, and then voila...relief and satisfaction. &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Two weeks ago, I did 18 miles, and was miserable. I had been fighting a cold, and came off of a 9 mile run a day earlier. Miles 13 - 18 were the absolute worst I had ever done, taking every ounce of concentration I could muster to put one foot in front of the other, and barely speaking to my running companion. I finished, but not with a sense of joy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;While still dealing with lingering parts of that same cold today, miles 13 - 18 were much better. I did 8 miles yesterday, and while I should have done 10 miles in keeping with my pattern of running 1/2 of Saturday's distance on Friday, I had visions of doubt, based on my poor performance two weeks earlier. Fear be gone. I CAN DO THIS!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I now enter the greatest phase of longer distance running. No, not the holiday season with parties, food and drink (although that might be the 2nd best phase of winter running - eating all you want while shedding calories on the weekends). I now begin "tapering" - slowing decreasing my weekly mileage, so by race day in mid-January, my legs are fresh, and any lingering pains have had a chance to recover. Therefore, you will see my weekly mileage go down over the next month, so I can hopefully finish this effort with a smile and arms raised high in accomplishment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes friends - it is all downhill from here. Now if you will excuse me, I need to go rest my very tired pigs, while munching on all the holiday goodies that have arrived via mail. Guilt free, of course!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-8719111078139585262?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/8719111078139585262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=8719111078139585262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/8719111078139585262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/8719111078139585262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/12/its-all-downhill-from-here.html' title='It&apos;s All Downhill From Here'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R2QOFaqYR2I/AAAAAAAAACU/mh1H1BImlgo/s72-c/Thunder+Road.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-560320738374806282</id><published>2007-12-12T17:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T17:36:44.495-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Great Loss</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R2BiP1FngCI/AAAAAAAAACM/d58kc8QmZgs/s1600-h/tollefson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143218798545305634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 152px" height="140" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R2BiP1FngCI/AAAAAAAAACM/d58kc8QmZgs/s320/tollefson.jpg" width="138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is with sadness, that I share that the father of one of my co-workers, Sue, passed away this Sunday evening, December 7th, with his family by his side. Ronald Tollefson had been fighting a form of Lymphoma, and that battle finally became too great. I had mentioned Sue's father during an earlier blog, and Sue was one of the first people to support my efforts and donate to the Leukemia Society. Ronald, 66, is survived by his wife of 44 years, JoAnne, his son Steven, daughter Sue (and her husband John), and their precious daughter, Genevieve - who was grandpa's "Best Buddy". My thoughts and prayers go out to Sue and her family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-560320738374806282?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/560320738374806282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=560320738374806282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/560320738374806282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/560320738374806282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/12/great-loss.html' title='A Great Loss'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R2BiP1FngCI/AAAAAAAAACM/d58kc8QmZgs/s72-c/tollefson.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-5975951734146639205</id><published>2007-12-10T08:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T08:59:55.047-05:00</updated><title type='text'>These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R1deL_Qur5I/AAAAAAAAACE/KzC4YUunOJA/s1600-h/logo-pinkribbon.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140681059719884690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 87px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 102px" height="118" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R1deL_Qur5I/AAAAAAAAACE/KzC4YUunOJA/s320/logo-pinkribbon.gif" width="104" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know them already: Chocolate. The Chicago Cubs. Dancing With The Stars. Sleeping in on a rainy day. My family (Happy Birthday Big "E"!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a new thing (or things) to add to the list. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few weeks ago, I participated in a group training run with my Team-In-Training mates. On this particular 10 mile run, I was with two females and we managed to maintain a healthy discussion the whole time, which makes the run pass quickly. During various times, we passed a large number of runners around Queens College here in Charlotte. Most likely some group participating in a local 5k run or walk. In the last 3 miles of the run, the group of runners/walkers coming our way grew in size, and became more colorful. Not their language, but their outfits. Nearly all were wearing some form of pink, and being the quick person I am, I correctly deduced that they were participating in a breast cancer fundraising event. Maybe the pink ribbons gave it away, but it might have been more than that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being the gentleman I am, I smiled politely at the ladies, young and old, tall and short, wide and thin, and said "hello" as we passed. Many smiled in return, although some may have thought I was a creep for the staring I was doing. How could I not. After all, hundreds of the women were wearing t-shirts with various eye-catching slogans on them. It was the &lt;em&gt;"Save Second Base"&lt;/em&gt; and the &lt;em&gt;"Save The Boobs"&lt;/em&gt; slogans in particular caught my eye - as I think they were supposed to. I smiled broadly, and I was prepared to donate to their cause right there, for shear creativity! My kind of people! And, I thought to myself, this is one of the best runs I have ever had - running with all these women! How motivating! If I wasn't intent on finishing my training run, I might have stopped at that moment, set up my own booth on the corner, and solicited volunteers for the &lt;strong&gt;"Run With Me In Disney"&lt;/strong&gt; club. Imagine - 39.3 miles with my own pink posse. How cool would that be?! Being so pumped with adrenaline, I might actually win the race. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A worthwhile cause, a group of volunteers and supporters, and a catchy slogan - sounds like a good way to raise funds. I have a catchy &lt;strong&gt;"39.3 and Counting"&lt;/strong&gt; slogan, but it probably doesn't bring a smile to the face of people I pass when running. I may have to wear pink tights next time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-5975951734146639205?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/5975951734146639205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=5975951734146639205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/5975951734146639205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/5975951734146639205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/12/these-are-few-of-my-favorite-things.html' title='These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R1deL_Qur5I/AAAAAAAAACE/KzC4YUunOJA/s72-c/logo-pinkribbon.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-3734826376029392717</id><published>2007-12-05T20:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T21:11:34.620-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Do I Run?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/RwD5XDwnfdI/AAAAAAAAAAc/az38XQFQV8U/s1600-h/chicksdigjocks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116363351234411986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 290px" height="293" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/RwD5XDwnfdI/AAAAAAAAAAc/az38XQFQV8U/s320/chicksdigjocks.jpg" width="248" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Why do I run?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Is it a self-image thing? Nope.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is it so I can fit into size 31 jeans? Nope.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is it to steal "private, quiet time" out of the house and away from the kids? Well, nope.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Simple fact - Chicks Dig Jocks!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I may look old for closing in on 40, but look how I fill out my polo shirt, and hold my ball with care. Girls love me for it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That is why I run. Maybe you should too...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-3734826376029392717?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/3734826376029392717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=3734826376029392717' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/3734826376029392717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/3734826376029392717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/12/why-do-i-run.html' title='Why Do I Run?'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/RwD5XDwnfdI/AAAAAAAAAAc/az38XQFQV8U/s72-c/chicksdigjocks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-6053562470625453920</id><published>2007-11-29T17:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T17:59:41.864-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Keep Going Strong</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R09DyJU79TI/AAAAAAAAAB8/2f0ZN06XMhE/s1600-h/Mark+for+Webpage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138400228629280050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R09DyJU79TI/AAAAAAAAAB8/2f0ZN06XMhE/s320/Mark+for+Webpage.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The following email was received today by all Charlotte Team-in-Training participants from our local TNT hero, Mark Bachman.  It helps to have this type of encouragement, and it serves as a reminder as to why I am doing this.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;It seems like just yesterday that we kicked off your training efforts for the Team In Training.  I know everyone has been working out, building endurance and enjoying carbo loading over the holidays (I sure did...).   Your events are drawing closer and you have so much to look forward to when you cross the finish line (especially given the wonderful locations, does anyone need a bag boy for Kiawah?).  Please know how much I appreciate your efforts to connect friends, family and neighbors to this worthwhile opportunity.  Your commitment and fundraising achievements will be a blessing for a lot of people in the years ahead.  Keep pushing on, riding further and getting fit...it is the journey that makes life more sweet...have a great day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark T. Bachman&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-6053562470625453920?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/6053562470625453920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=6053562470625453920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/6053562470625453920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/6053562470625453920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/11/keep-going-strong.html' title='Keep Going Strong'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R09DyJU79TI/AAAAAAAAAB8/2f0ZN06XMhE/s72-c/Mark+for+Webpage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-6350240541110798333</id><published>2007-11-27T17:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T18:12:45.438-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Time to bring this journey to and end</title><content type='html'>Hours of training, eating different foods to create a healthy body, wearing new clothes to impress partners, finding shoes that don't cause blisters, and opening yourself up to the world to bring transparency to the effort.  And today it comes to a screeching halt.  There is no tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My season of carefully analyzing the nuances of the sport needs to end as of tonight.  I have seen great legs, a slimmer physique, and how to play to the crowd.  Lets award a winner now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I am not ending my running journey today.  Why would you have that impression? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rather, season 5 of Dancing With The Stars will crown a new winner this evening and award the glitzy ball trophy! Are you as sad as I am?  Our options are the Spice Girl from England (Scary), the Indy driver from Brazil (Slick), or one of the Osmonds (Stiff).  Let's get real for just a minute is this phoniness of reality TV.  Marie should have been voted off weeks ago! If this was a marathon, she would have pulled over at the 5k mark!  Or the Chicago Marathon race officials would have closed the course to her after 16 miles (so glad I chose Disney).  Fan favorite or not, she should not win. My vote (if I voted 33 million times) would go out to Helio and Julianne.  Energy. Smiles. Good looks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But like all of you who religiously visit my blog each and every day in anticipation of a new entry, I will firmly plant myself this Tuesday night in front of the TV until 11 pm, with a box of tissues at my side (I have a cold - really!), and enjoy some quality reality television, while anxiously awaiting the verdict.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This gets me to thinking though (which I do periodically on a good day). I bet I could be a candidate for a reality show on running....Running With The Stars...oh, the options are endless.  After I am done taunting the Osmonds, I could break into a full sprint....they would never catch me...and I'd have Julianne as my partner (just thinking out loud here)...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-6350240541110798333?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/6350240541110798333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=6350240541110798333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/6350240541110798333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/6350240541110798333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/11/time-to-bring-this-journey-to-and-end.html' title='Time to bring this journey to and end'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-514512886049366806</id><published>2007-11-22T13:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T17:28:28.981-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Am Thankful For...and then some</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R0YAWZBZN9I/AAAAAAAAAB0/_3QB59R068s/s1600-h/Dunkin+donuts.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135792809736484818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R0YAWZBZN9I/AAAAAAAAAB0/_3QB59R068s/s320/Dunkin+donuts.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On this national day of giving thanks, I would like to acknowledge, and give thanks, to the many things that are allowing me to have a successful "run" at completing the 39.3 miles in January. It is easy to get caught up in my own little world and think nothing but run, run, run. But it has been so much more than that. For instance, this effort wouldn't be possible without a supportive family. Erika and Ryan don't understand the magnitude of the Goofy Challenge, but instead simply say, "Daddy's going on a run." A lot. This means the lion's share of handling family obligations has fallen on my wife, Brenda, who has been holding down the fort the past few months when I head out on mornings, or weekends, for longer runs. Of course, this is no different than when I did weekend bike rides for 2 - 4 hours each Saturday and Sunday during the summer. She would be the unsung, behind-the-scenes hero, although some of you have pointed out to me she must be a saint for letting me travel so much during the week, only to then take 5 days vacation and go to the beach to run some more. To you I say, pipe down. I don't want to take any more grief than I already do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I have established that a cooperative family is essential to the success of any athletic endeavor requiring a large amount of training time. And I have it, and say thanks to those that share the house with me. But there is more that has the stars aligning in my favor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Terrific individual donors - thanks for helping me surpass my fundraising goal, and strive for more! And for keeping me inspired by asking about the training. I won't let you down.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thanks to Kelly, who donated all the proceeds from her recent Southern Living show, hosted by Brenda, to the Leukemia Society. A selfless act.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The weather gods - thanks for not raining when I run, and keeping the overall temperature to above freezing. I sure would appreciate a record breaking December.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Anti-chaffing stuff. Oh, you don't how a little glide stick can be your best friend until you do 10 miles in the wrong clothes. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;GU -I am really thankful for this sugary substance that is supposed to provide extra energy during long runs. Don't know if it works or not, but for a chocolate lover, it is a great high every 45 minutes or so, and sustains me until I can get into the Oreo jar at home.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thanks to Team-In-Training, for providing a outstanding forum for success. From the TNT staff, to the coaches, to the other participants - the whole experience has been one of smiles and encouragement. They treat the runners exceptionally well!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Dunkin&lt;/span&gt;' Donuts on Kings Blvd. Nothing is better after a long run than a morning pick me up - medium coffee with cream ($1.83). And if I have been extra good during the week (meaning I laid off the chocolate), two healthy jelly filled donuts to wash the coffee down with. That would be Combo #1 on the menu if you happen to stop by.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Brenda - did I mention her already? She gave me the kick in the pants 8 years ago to stop talking about running a marathon, and to start to do something about it. That has set me on a path of running ever since. Should I thank her, or give her a kick in the pants???&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bob and Sheri - radio personalities on 107.9 The Link. Gotta have something to listen to on the runs. During the week, it is Bob and Sheri, and on the weekend - any mind drivel music that will keep me from thinking about how many miles I have left. Maybe they'll give me a shout out someday!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;My health - without it, I would not be able to accomplish something special for my 40&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, and to benefit a great cause like the Leukemia &amp;amp; Lymphoma Society.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;If you are also a runner, you too have many things to be thankful for that you may not have thought about previously. So just for you, I have a Christmas wish...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;May all of your runs be uphill, and the wind be in your face...it builds character. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can thank me the next time you see me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-514512886049366806?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/514512886049366806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=514512886049366806' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/514512886049366806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/514512886049366806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/11/things-i-am-thankful-forand-then-some.html' title='Things I Am Thankful For...and then some'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/R0YAWZBZN9I/AAAAAAAAAB0/_3QB59R068s/s72-c/Dunkin+donuts.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-7752617166978924100</id><published>2007-11-14T17:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T20:26:49.884-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Boston Marathon Qualifier!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/RzugOZBZN8I/AAAAAAAAABs/CXlpuJHBbf4/s1600-h/2008MarathonWeekend[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132872369414158274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/RzugOZBZN8I/AAAAAAAAABs/CXlpuJHBbf4/s320/2008MarathonWeekend%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes! I am thrilled to announce that the Disney Marathon on January 13, 2008 is a course sanctioned by some proper governing body as one where participants can qualify for the Boston Marathon! A time of 3:15 or better is needed for men in the 35 - 39 age bracket.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I won't qualify given my pace, but I thought you might like to know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-7752617166978924100?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/7752617166978924100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=7752617166978924100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/7752617166978924100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/7752617166978924100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/11/boston-marathon-qualifier.html' title='Boston Marathon Qualifier!!!'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/RzugOZBZN8I/AAAAAAAAABs/CXlpuJHBbf4/s72-c/2008MarathonWeekend%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-6536740056033819732</id><published>2007-11-11T14:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T17:04:39.731-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah, Houston? We Have A Problem!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/Rzd4JgsYucI/AAAAAAAAABk/VsTGvvZUegk/s1600-h/ankle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131702405202229698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/Rzd4JgsYucI/AAAAAAAAABk/VsTGvvZUegk/s320/ankle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Murphy's Law. It was bound to happen. Everything was going along too well in my training. Spirits - great! Training plan - great! Legs - great! Diet - great (if you consider chocolate a diet plan)! Then something happened that couldn't be predicted. It started as a slight soreness about 3 weeks ago. Just a little stiffness on the inside of my left ankle during long runs. Nothing to worry about. During a 10 miler two weeks ago, the same soreness appeared near the end of the run. And then during last week's 1/2 marathon, it returned yet again, and this time was more persistent from about mile 4 on. The stubbornness in me said I could work through it. The smart runner in me looked at the big picture and I took a week off - hence the lower mileage this week - and wrapped the ankle each day. Yesterday our team went 14 miles. Legs were great, but the soreness appeared from about 4 miles on again. A self-diagnosis indicates the start of ankle tendinitis. Caught early enough, it can be treated properly. Time isn't on my side however, and I can't afford to take 3 weeks off only 9 weeks before the Goofy Challenge. Instead, I need to be smart, and follow the plan for treating such an injury - RICE. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;R&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;each, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;I&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;mbibe, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;C&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;onsume, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;E&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;valuate the need for another. Whoops - wrong RICE plan. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;R&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;est, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;I&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;ce, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;C&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;ompress, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;E&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;levate. Silly me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This morning I felt fine again and I tried 4 miles on the treadmill with a taped foot. No pain. My weekly mileage may become limited, and the long Saturday runs are going to need to be evaluated week-to-week. Much like was said in the move Apollo 13 (besides when the title to this blog was uttered), &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Failure is not an option".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; I am so pumped to see through to completion what I have started, that someone is going to need to cut my tendon to stop my from participating. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So say a few prayers for me in the upcoming weeks. It is less than 63 days until race day - and like the elite runners in the field - I plan to toe the starting line and bump elbows with the best before the gun goes off!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then they can blow me away and I can hobble through 39.3 miles...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-6536740056033819732?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/6536740056033819732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=6536740056033819732' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/6536740056033819732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/6536740056033819732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/11/ah-houston-we-have-problem.html' title='Ah, Houston? We Have A Problem!'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/Rzd4JgsYucI/AAAAAAAAABk/VsTGvvZUegk/s72-c/ankle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-5900305568746540661</id><published>2007-11-04T13:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T14:42:55.090-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Much Time On My Hands?</title><content type='html'>Time - there is only a finite amount of it each day, week and month. How we choose to use it is generally determined before the day begins. Between sleep, work and commuting, whatever little bit of time remains must be used wisely. Committing nearly 5 months to train for the Goofy Challenge has required me to prioritize how I use my time, and to make sacrifices. Sleep time has been reduced each day, due to early morning runs. As a religious reader of the newspaper each day for many years, I have found that there isn't enough time for a thorough read lately. TV? Thank goodness for &lt;a href="http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/08/lifes-great-inventions-no-not-tivo.html"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;TIVO&lt;/span&gt; (one of life's greatest inventions!). &lt;/a&gt;What hasn't changed - time spent reading Nancy Drew books each night to my daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having been a runner for the past 8 years, I have always taken a watch with me. Usually it has been to track progress and improvement. Other times it has been to measure splits for each mile, or to stick to a personal schedule. As a competitor, I have always striven to improve. It has paid off in past 1/2 marathons, improving from my first 1/2 marathon time of 2:03, to a personal best of 1:43. Yet, training these past few months has been a different experience. While I have time goals in the back of my mind for the 2 races comprising the Goofy Challenge, I am also realistic in knowing that this effort is quite different from my previous events. 39.3 miles over two days is not a race based on speed, but rather endurance, commitment and heart. Therefore, I am enjoying my training like never before. And I think it could be due to the fact that I haven't always taken my watch with me. I run for the satisfaction of knowing what I am doing is benefiting others. I run to put in miles at a steady pace, rather than to race against the clock to complete the workout. Time has mattered little. I know this to be true based on two separate situations this past week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first was Tuesday morning when I put in 6 miles, in complete darkness, while on a trip to Minnesota. 3 laps around a lake path near my hotel, when I was barely able to see the ground in front of me. "Mr. Golden Sun" (as my son calls it), wasn't about to guide me on this day. The clock may have said it was 5:45 am, but my body said it was just another training run, no matter the venue. Sleep was sacrificed to further the cause. The time of day didn't matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second was yesterday, when I "competed" in a local half-marathon in Charlotte. For me, it was an opportunity to get in a 13 mile training run, while surrounded by other runners. That makes for easy motivation. I had no goal for a finishing time, and merely took with my watch to measure my splits to ensure I was doing a steady pace mile-by-mile. I know time didn't matter, because when I crossed the finish line, and actually forgot to stop my watch, or look up at the chip-time clock to see when I crossed. Only later did I realize that I did a negative split - running the last 1/2 of the race quicker than the first 1/2. Not bad. Finished in 1:54 for an 8:43/mile pace (not that I am keeping track - this is to for &lt;a href="http://www.runforyourlife.com/2007_RACES/DowdYHalf_2007.htm"&gt;official documentation purposes&lt;/a&gt;!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I have to admit, I did let my competitive side get the best of me. Nearing the finish line, the sun was at my back, and the crowd was cheering on the runners. On the ground ahead of me, I was able to see my shadow, and that of another runner closing in on me in the last 100 meters. &lt;strong&gt;WHAT??? WAS HE/SHE TRYING TO PASS ME AT THE END??? NO WAY!!!&lt;/strong&gt; Without turning around to give my best "what are you trying to do" stare, I shifted into another gear and cruised across the finish line ahead of the other runner. Now that was a good time!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-5900305568746540661?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/5900305568746540661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=5900305568746540661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/5900305568746540661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/5900305568746540661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/11/too-much-time-on-my-hands.html' title='Too Much Time On My Hands?'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-8663099964391680106</id><published>2007-10-24T11:39:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T12:09:36.707-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Life of An Elite Runner</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/Rx9uJjwnflI/AAAAAAAAABc/BDnt6k8-jeM/s1600-h/vegas-run.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124936011467947602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/Rx9uJjwnflI/AAAAAAAAABc/BDnt6k8-jeM/s320/vegas-run.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This week I took a much overdue vacation and headed to the beach. My agenda - to run, read, and relax. Halfway through this week I have managed to accomplish each of these. Read a good book yesterday, while sitting on the beach (yep - all 340 pages!). Have avoided working - mostly, therefore relaxing. And for the past three days, I have run - a total of 23 miles. Having just completed a 12 miler, I have come to realize that &lt;strong&gt;"this&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;is the life!"&lt;/strong&gt; Elite runners are provided these opportunities. Elite runners don't really work - running is their work. No stress of project teams or market conditions or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;deliverables&lt;/span&gt;, just stress on their legs. They have sponsors who support them financially. I could have sponsors (any volunteers?). Elite runners train in difficult conditions. I have trained in difficult conditions - yesterday it was hot and sunny and the breeze from the ocean wasn't strong enough, today it &lt;em&gt;almost&lt;/em&gt; rained on me. And on Monday, the sand wasn't as firm as I would've liked. Elite runners win races. On the beach, I o&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;rganized&lt;/span&gt; a race to the pier, and won. Does it matter that the beach is nearly deserted in late October? Elite runners take it easy in the evening, preparing their body for the next day. I, too, have taken it easy, watching Dancing With The Stars for 2 straight nights. Yes, the similarities are quite eerie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could really get used to this life. Having to consume beverages to stay hydrated throughout the day is difficult work. Once my run is over, I find myself faced with choosing between water, sweet tea, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;gatorade&lt;/span&gt;, beer or wine. The pressure of these choices would get to a lesser person. Not me. I welcome those pressures and address them head on. Although, if I am being honest, I almost snapped earlier this week. The drought in the Southeast is of great concern to me. While on the beach I made the astute observation that the water level was very low - much like the lakes near our home in Charlotte. I started screaming during my run to whoever would listen that "we need to conserve water!" I think my message resonated well with those that were listening. The next day, the water was much higher up on the beach. It just goes to show the difference we can all make if we simply take the time to care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I am going on a crusade against whoever is littering the beach with these jellyfish. Elite runners shouldn't have to train in these hazardous conditions...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-8663099964391680106?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/8663099964391680106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=8663099964391680106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/8663099964391680106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/8663099964391680106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/10/life-of-elite-runner.html' title='The Life of An Elite Runner'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/Rx9uJjwnflI/AAAAAAAAABc/BDnt6k8-jeM/s72-c/vegas-run.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-381457106873460610</id><published>2007-10-22T13:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T13:37:49.318-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Time to Remember Others</title><content type='html'>The effort to raise funds for the Leukemia &amp;amp; Lymphoma Society allowed me to reach out to a wonderful network of people. This has included family, friends, biking teammates, work and association colleagues, and others that know me through an association with someone else. As a result, some contributors have shared with me their reasons for donating, and the impact the a blood related cancer has had on their lives. While each story is personal, I was quite shocked to find out how extensive the impact has been. I would like to mention these special individuals, and encourage them to remain strong. Some have lost someone close to them already, while others are in the midst of a difficult fight. While our Charlotte TNT stated "honored hero" is Mark &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bachman&lt;/span&gt;, I dedicate my Goofy Challenge effort to each of these people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Margie, a current colleague of mine through Beta Alpha Psi, lost a 9 1/2 year old nephew Jay, to Leukemia in 1997. Additionally, Margie's mom had adult onset Leukemia, and is currently in remission.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wiley Scott - a former co-worker of my friend Monique. Wiley lost a battle with Multiple &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Myeloma&lt;/span&gt; a few years ago.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Casey's (another BAP colleague) mom had Multiple &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mycelia&lt;/span&gt;, another blood related cancer. Casey has previously dedicated a TNT marathon she completed in Alaska to her mom.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Kailey Miller, an 8-year old diagnosed with Acute &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Myelocytic&lt;/span&gt; Leukemia in 2005. She is close to our family friend Kelly.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Emily - a co-worker of mine, who's dad is an acute &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Lymphocytic&lt;/span&gt; Leukemia survivor. She has also run a marathon with Team in Training in honor of her dad. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sue - another co-worker of mine, who's dad has been in an on-going battle with Lymphoma.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Katie - another co-worker of mine, who's brother fought non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma for 10 years, but lost that battle 4 years ago.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lisa - a friend from my days at Andersen and whom I vacation with each year, lost her father to Lymphoma 12 years ago.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-381457106873460610?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/381457106873460610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=381457106873460610' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/381457106873460610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/381457106873460610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/08/time-to-remember-others.html' title='A Time to Remember Others'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-4671274462286761363</id><published>2007-10-20T09:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T10:09:20.771-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Honoring Mark Bachman</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/RxoL1jwnfkI/AAAAAAAAABU/b4FwF4j1B5c/s1600-h/TNT+Dinner+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123420540847488578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/RxoL1jwnfkI/AAAAAAAAABU/b4FwF4j1B5c/s320/TNT+Dinner+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In some of my fundraising communications, I have indicated that the Charlotte Team-In-Training group is running on behalf of a local resident impacted by a blood related cancer. Our local "honored hero" is Mark &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bachman&lt;/span&gt;. I had an opportunity to participate in a fundraising dinner with my training teammates, and Mark, a few weeks ago, and speak to him briefly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mark was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma almost 9 years ago - in December, 1998. Unfortunately, the cancer returned in February 2006, and Mark subsequently underwent a stem cell transplant in July 2006 and is currently in remission. I had learned that Mark was an active triathlete (something I had dabbled in, quite unsuccessfully), and had to cut back him mileage in riding, which in its peak was in excess of 150 miles/week. However, it is clear in looking at Mark that he is doing well and remaining active.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mark, his wife Lori, and their two sons, Scott (12) and Phillip (9), were all able to attend the dinner. He is the Community Vice President for the YMCA in Charlotte, and wouldn't you know it, his interests sound a lot like mine - physically active, enjoys exercising (I enjoy it at times), biking, taking family beach trips, completing home improvement projects such as building decks, patios and minor remodeling. I would venture a guess that he is better at all of these things than I am!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was able to present to Mark a special button I had created on a friends website (&lt;a href="http://buttonsofhope.com/"&gt;Buttons of Hope&lt;/a&gt;), which I had made up for my training as a reminder of why I was undertaking this 39.3 mile effort. It was a picture of Mark, with the words "Honored Hero" on top of photo. Mark knows that not just I, but my TNT teammates as well, are all working towards raising funds for a worthwhile research effort, and that his story inspires all of us to continue with our training until our mission is complete.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In my next blog entry, I want to briefly share a list of other people I have learned about through my fundraising efforts that have been impacted by Leukemia, Lymphoma and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Myeloma&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until then - 9 mile easy run this morning with the team on a beautiful 60 degree day. It felt great. This was a recovery week for me, meaning I cut back on my weekly mileage by about 10%. The heavy miles are ahead, and with them, more observations about running...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-4671274462286761363?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/4671274462286761363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=4671274462286761363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/4671274462286761363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/4671274462286761363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/10/honoring-mark-bachman.html' title='Honoring Mark Bachman'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/RxoL1jwnfkI/AAAAAAAAABU/b4FwF4j1B5c/s72-c/TNT+Dinner+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-2136315590252004805</id><published>2007-10-16T10:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T10:23:17.690-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Get Educated</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/RxTIPDwnfjI/AAAAAAAAABM/CRyq65BQ6tA/s1600-h/top_leukemia_logo.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121938837259910706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/RxTIPDwnfjI/AAAAAAAAABM/CRyq65BQ6tA/s320/top_leukemia_logo.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I knew if I was going to run 39.3 miles to celebrate a milestone for myself, I could also benefit a great cause as well. In 2000, when I trained for my only other marathon, I ran each weekend with a group of runners who were participating in &lt;a href="http://teamintraining.org/"&gt;Team-In-Training &lt;/a&gt;and doing fundraising. That experience was inspiring, and while I am not big into asking others for donations, I knew my effort this year could go inspire others. You have all surpassed my expectations for giving, and the words of support have been most welcomed. So, in the spirit of this effort, I would like to dedicate this week’s blog entries (there will be multiple ones), to highlight LLS, TNT, Mark Bachman (honored hero), and others!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;a href="http://leukemia.org/"&gt;Leukemia &amp;amp; Lymphoma Society&lt;/a&gt; is the world’s largest voluntary health organization dedicated to funding blood cancer research, education and patient services. They offer a variety of program and services in support of their mission: &lt;strong&gt;CURE LEUKEMIA, LYMPHOMA, HODGKINS DISEASE and MYELOMA, AND IMPROVE THE QUALITY OF LIFE OF PATIENTS AND THEIR FAMILIES.&lt;/strong&gt; The Society is a non-profit organization that relies on the generosity of individual and corporate contributions to advance its mission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Facts About Blood Related Cancers&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Leukemia, Lymphoma and Myeloma are cancers that originate in the bone marrow of lymphatic tissue as the result of an acquired genetic injury to the DNA of a single cell. The cell then becomes malignant and multiplies continuously. This abnormal accumulation interferes with the production of healthy blood cells&lt;br /&gt;- An estimate 823,000 Americans are living with blood cancers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Leukemia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;- In the US, 218,000 people are living with or in remission from leukemia&lt;br /&gt;Leukemia causes more deaths than any other cancer among children and young adults under the age of 20.&lt;br /&gt;- The relative 5 year survival rate for patients with leukemia has more than tripled in the past 46 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lymphoma&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- There are 544,000 people today living with lymphoma – over 138,000 have or are in remission from Hodgkin lymphoma. The rest have or are in remission from non-Hodgkin lymphoma.&lt;br /&gt;- Non-Hodgkin lymphoma is the 5th most common cancer in the US, and its age-adjusted incidence rose by nearly 84% from 1975 to 2004.&lt;br /&gt;- The 5 year relative survival rate for patients with Hodgkin lymphoma rose from 73% in 1975 to 86% in 2002.&lt;br /&gt;- The 5 year relative survival rate for non-Hodgkin lymphoma rose from 48% in 1975 to 64% in 2003.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Myeloma&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- In 2007, 19,900 new cases of myeloma will be diagnosed in the US.&lt;br /&gt;- Overall 5 year survival has shown significant improvement since the 1960s, but was still only 34% in 2003.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please return to learn more about &lt;strong&gt;Mark Bachman&lt;/strong&gt; in a few days!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-2136315590252004805?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/2136315590252004805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=2136315590252004805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/2136315590252004805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/2136315590252004805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/10/lets-get-educated.html' title='Let&apos;s Get Educated'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/RxTIPDwnfjI/AAAAAAAAABM/CRyq65BQ6tA/s72-c/top_leukemia_logo.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-7617046942887171623</id><published>2007-10-09T21:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T22:33:06.873-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Guilty Pleasures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/Rww4mDwnfiI/AAAAAAAAABE/z4GquXF-63Q/s1600-h/dancing-with-stars1008-299sm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119529102908816930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/Rww4mDwnfiI/AAAAAAAAABE/z4GquXF-63Q/s320/dancing-with-stars1008-299sm.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm gonna be honest with you. I was going to write about some running venture today. About my &lt;strong&gt;"fartlek"&lt;/strong&gt; run on the treadmill this morning at the Doubletree Hotel in Houston. 5 miles in 40 minutes. Oh, I was flying. I was going to explain the purpose of "fartleks". Technical crap. Uh, oh - Beavis moment....heh, heh....Crap, Fartlek...heh, heh. Never mind - go Google "fartlek" and you'll know why I did it, and how it is supposed to help my training.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Instead, I am going to write about guilty pleasures. I just experienced one of mine. We all have them. You'd by lying if you said you didn't have at least one. Some are shared publicly. Then there are those that are kept in the darkest recesses of our minds. I have a few guilty pleasures. One of them is my undying love for chocolate. M&amp;amp;M's, Oreos, fudge, cookies, oh...hold on, I need to head to the vending machine as I feel a craving coming on (I'm in Dallas now). But I have another lessor known guilty pleasure. The kind that leaves a goofy (running reference...) smile on my face each time it happens. One that keeps me focused and mesmerized for an hour at a time, once, and even sometimes, twice a week. Get your mind out of the gutter - I told you, I am out of town.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am the biggest fan of &lt;strong&gt;Dancing With The Stars!&lt;/strong&gt; I'm not star-struck. Instead, one of my motto's is that &lt;em&gt;"nothing beats a good dance number"&lt;/em&gt;. I love watching great dancing. The glitz, the music, the awkwardness. What these B-list stars endure to become a dancing champion can be likened to training for a marathon. Hours of practice. Trying to look good in short-shorts. Moving to the music (ok, that's just me singing along to my MP3 player). You get the picture. If you want to be the best, if you want to succeed, you need to be willing to sacrifice something to achieve your goals and dreams. The stars set aside their current projects to train countless hours a week only to be humbled by judges and our votes (note - I have never voted. I'm just a closet fan). I am sacrificing sleep, time with family, and time in front of the TV to train. Getting into Houston at 12:30 am this morning wasn't easy, nor was getting up at 6:20 am to run. &lt;u&gt;But I want to achieve the goal I have set for myself&lt;/u&gt;. Besides, I need to run early, so I can be on the couch at 8:00 pm each Monday and Tuesday when possible to watch the likes of Wayne Newton and Marie Osmond attempt to recapture their youth. Ahem...scratch that. This 39.3 and counting thing may come back to bite me. Recapturing youth? Heh, heh. Or relishing one additional guilty pleasure...the thought of running with Belle, Cinderella and Snow White in Orlando in January??? Maybe that guilty pleasure is better off being kept to myself...heh, heh...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-7617046942887171623?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/7617046942887171623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=7617046942887171623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/7617046942887171623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/7617046942887171623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/10/guilty-pleasures.html' title='Guilty Pleasures'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/Rww4mDwnfiI/AAAAAAAAABE/z4GquXF-63Q/s72-c/dancing-with-stars1008-299sm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-8547702246560728826</id><published>2007-10-08T17:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T10:00:31.759-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Thrill of Victory...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/Rwo2zjwnfhI/AAAAAAAAAA8/BgI4kR9G2sE/s1600-h/cubs+agony.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118964185860374034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/Rwo2zjwnfhI/AAAAAAAAAA8/BgI4kR9G2sE/s320/cubs+agony.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ...would sure beat the agony of "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; feet".  I know, pretty cheesy - but this blog needs to tie to running, remember?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darn, it would have taken me longer to run my 39.3 miles than it did for the Cubs to exit the playoffs this year.   Three and out. There can only be one explanation.  The Cubs want to make the centennial anniversary of their last World Series victory (1908) a truly memorable experience by winning it all again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So once again, I find myself saying "wait 'til next year".  2008 will be the year of the insane - me running my age in miles, and the Cubs march to glory!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-8547702246560728826?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/8547702246560728826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=8547702246560728826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/8547702246560728826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/8547702246560728826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/10/thrill-of-victory.html' title='The Thrill of Victory...'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/Rwo2zjwnfhI/AAAAAAAAAA8/BgI4kR9G2sE/s72-c/cubs+agony.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-4515996315956907290</id><published>2007-10-03T17:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T17:37:49.229-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembering What's Important In Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/RwPJIzwnffI/AAAAAAAAAAs/3nAxX10F2rE/s1600-h/Cubs+scapegoat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117154754793274866" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/RwPJIzwnffI/AAAAAAAAAAs/3nAxX10F2rE/s320/Cubs+scapegoat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We are now in October, and the time has come to face what is really important in life...post-season baseball! However, 2007 brings in a whole new &lt;u&gt;class of people&lt;/u&gt; to pump up the TV ratings for the next 3 weeks. Yes, the "loveable losers" - the diehard Cub fans (of which, I am a proud one) will be glued to our TVs for the next three weeks (no, not one - we are in this for the long haul).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what does this have to do with running? Have faith, friends. Cub fans have been on an amazing streak. There are certain &lt;strong&gt;runners&lt;/strong&gt;, called "streakers", who make it a point to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;run&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; each and every day. For years - rain or shine. The Cubs are "streakers". &lt;strong&gt;We&lt;/strong&gt; (notice that I am in it with them - as in "we are one") have been on an incredible &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;run&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; (good choice of words, right?). For the past 99 years, rain or shine, &lt;strong&gt;WE&lt;/strong&gt; have not won a World Series. &lt;strong&gt;We&lt;/strong&gt; haven't played in a World Series since 1945. Another incredible streak. &lt;strong&gt;We've&lt;/strong&gt; only been in the post-season 5 times in my lifetime ('84, '89, '98, '03, '07). Yet Cub fans - my brothers and sisters in hope - will &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;run&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; to get the newspaper every day, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;run&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; to turn on Sports Center, or &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;run&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; to the local bar - all in the hopes of catching news of a Cubs victory.  We will go that extra mile for our team!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;run&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; no more. This year, &lt;strong&gt;we &lt;/strong&gt;will be crowned the champs and put our misery behind us. The curse of the Billy Goat will be no more. The memories of the ball going through Leon Durham legs in 1984 will be a distant memory. And Steve Bartman, in hiding since 2003 - can come out now and ride in the front car of the parade through downtown Chicago. He will be forgiven. The Cubs are going to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;run&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; over and through their competition this post-season. And the excitement begins tonight at 10:00 EST - that is a whole different beef for me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our time has come Cubs nation!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, by the way - I &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ran&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; 7 miles this morning.  You just had to trust me to bring it all together!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-4515996315956907290?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/4515996315956907290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=4515996315956907290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/4515996315956907290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/4515996315956907290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/10/remembering-whats-important-in-life.html' title='Remembering What&apos;s Important In Life'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_d7qNA1nasD0/RwPJIzwnffI/AAAAAAAAAAs/3nAxX10F2rE/s72-c/Cubs+scapegoat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-6036849742904170456</id><published>2007-09-30T18:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T18:02:19.246-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In Search of a Theme Song</title><content type='html'>I’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; been thinking (please no smart &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;aleck&lt;/span&gt; responses) that there are songs for every occasion. Every where you go, please are singing. Theme songs on TV shows, songs for commercial products, songs common for weddings (the first dance, the chicken dance, line dancing, and even the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Macarena&lt;/span&gt;). We have Happy Birthday, songs for church and even songs people try to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;karaoke&lt;/span&gt; to (I wouldn't know). So I have come to realize that I need a theme song to support my weekend of running in January. If politicians can have a theme song to carry them through their campaigning for the presidency, why can’t I have one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This came to me while running and listening to my MP3 player, as I usually do. Mostly the songs I listen to are just there to distract me while I put in my miles. I don’t really have running &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;playlists&lt;/span&gt; on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ipod&lt;/span&gt;. But every so often, as song pops up that really gets the blood flowing. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Meatloaf's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;"Paradise by the Dashboard Lights"&lt;/strong&gt; (good for over one mile of running), can distract me quickly. Wild Cherry's &lt;strong&gt;"Play That Funky Music"&lt;/strong&gt; (good for singing/shouting along to) is another good one, and most recently, it was the theme song to Rocky – &lt;strong&gt;“Gonna Fly Now”&lt;/strong&gt; giving me a musical boost while running. You know the one, where he is running through the streets of Philadelphia and up the steps to the museum. I have sprinted up those steps once in my life. Well, it was a semi-sprint, as I was in dress shoes and slacks coming from a work event - but it had to be done. If that song &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t put a little extra giddy-up into your step, I don’t know what will. Of course, I can only sustain that giddy-up for about 200 yards before needing to slow down again. Doing it for 39.3 miles would be one heck of an adrenaline rush!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps a song more appropriate for my training is &lt;strong&gt;“Against the Wind”&lt;/strong&gt; by Bob &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Seger&lt;/span&gt;. The lyrics seems to capture what all of my runs are like &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“Against the wind. We were running against the wind. We were young and strong and we were running against the wind”.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;Why is it that all runs seem to have a head-wind??? Maybe that is my generations version walking uphill, backwards, in the snow for 5 miles to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people know I already have a few theme songs I tend to karaoke to, but I don’t think &lt;strong&gt;“Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown”&lt;/strong&gt; or &lt;strong&gt;“Copacabana”&lt;/strong&gt; are right for this occasion. Sinatra’s &lt;strong&gt;“My Way”&lt;/strong&gt; is getting close, but is too slow for pacing. Then there is Springsteen's &lt;strong&gt;"Born To Run",&lt;/strong&gt; (baby we were born to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ruuuuuuunnnnnnnn&lt;/span&gt;). However, I am sure there have to be other options.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any suggestions? Use the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Comments&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; link below this post to provide your input. Be creative. I can only hope that I won’t have &lt;strong&gt;“It’s a Small World After All”&lt;/strong&gt; ringing through my ears after 39.3 miles through Walt Disney World. Wouldn't surprise me if the people behind the curtain who control the big mouse will find a way to blast that song through loudspeakers along the course. Kill me now…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may not be a theme song, but it is a motto - "May all of your runs be uphill, and the wind be in your face. It builds character!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-6036849742904170456?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/6036849742904170456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=6036849742904170456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/6036849742904170456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/6036849742904170456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/08/in-search-of-theme-song.html' title='In Search of a Theme Song'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-8936859246398232063</id><published>2007-09-23T20:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T20:42:25.948-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Run OJ, Run</title><content type='html'>I just returned from a four-day business trip in Phoenix.  As is going to be pretty common for me in the next few months, I brought my running stuff with me so I could get in some miles before/after work.  Even though it was only 100 degrees out, I decide to run on the treadmill at the spa, and as always, I had my MP3 player with me.  Only this time, I spent time during my 11 miles over 2 days listening to the TV in the spa.  CNN, ESPN and Fox News were the stations of choice on the 3 TVs. Having already seen the 30-minute repeats of Sports Center earlier in the day, news it was.  While these stations are built around presenting quick news facts, this time was different.  I was having flashbacks to 1995, as they became “The All OJ” stations.  OJ arriving at court. OJ leaving court.  OJ in the white bronco (yet again), OJ on the airplane.  OJ taking a leak.  OJ searching for the killer…on the 16th hole. (hint OJ – he’s not hidden next to your ball).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the fascination that the media has with this guy?  If he was still running through airports stumping for Hertz and hurdling luggage, I might watch. But only given today’s airport environment.  Imagine OJ hurdling past the TSA agents in an attempt to bypass security as if they were defenders, yelling &lt;em&gt;“throw me the bomb”&lt;/em&gt; in an attempt to relive his football glory days.  Is he stupid enough to utter “bomb” in an airport?  We could only hope.  He was stupid enough to barge into a Vegas hotel room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while I was running, I couldn’t help but think “Run OJ, Run”…to where you can’t be found.  That way, Fox News can update me on more pressing issues, such as whether Howard K. Stern and Larry Birkhead are an item?  I miss the real news.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-8936859246398232063?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/8936859246398232063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=8936859246398232063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/8936859246398232063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/8936859246398232063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/09/run-oj-run.html' title='Run OJ, Run'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-5950329687631522866</id><published>2007-09-18T13:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T13:50:13.260-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Going The Extra Mile</title><content type='html'>Haven’t you done it at least once in your lifetime???  Going the &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;extra mile&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; can mean many different things to people.  Perhaps it is going out of your way to help someone in need.  Or putting in a little extra effort on a school or work project. Or seeing if you can make it to the next exit on the interstate before needing to fill up the gas tank (a trait I must’ve inherited from my dad).  Or, maybe it is the extra trip to the all-you-can-eat buffet line to stretch your dollar further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I went the &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;extra mile&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; – or 25 miles to be exact – during the MS150 Breakaway to the Beach bike ride in Myrtle Beach, SC.  Billed as a 150-mile ride over two days, you would expect to go 75 miles each day, right?  Well, some biking genius decided that on the first day of the ride, participants can choose to go 100 miles if they want.  In riding terms, it’s called a “Century”.  And being with high-energy, type-A Mojo teammates for the weekend, I knew I’d get sucked into going the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;extra miles&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Ok, you’re not buying that, are you?  Yes, I am highly competitive.  Yes, I am goal driven.  And yes, I didn’t need much convincing to go for 100.  It’s just not my style to stop short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there was problem. The same genius, who billed it a Century ride, only mapped out a 94-mile ride.  Huh?  What's the deal with that? How can I be rewarded for going the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;extra mile&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and receive a Century patch, if it is only 19 extra miles.  Seemed contradictory to me and a few other Mojos.  So during the latter part of the day one ride, we bantered about doing a few extra loops around Broadway At The Beach – a shopping an entertainment complex where the ride was to finish – to reach a true 100 miles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we neared the finish line on the first loop – thunderous applause rang in our ears from the MS volunteers and spectators who gathered to greet us.  Myself, and two other Mojos (Denny and Rhonda) kept motoring past.  Yes, I was finishing with two women – you have a problem with that?  They are strong riders, and I prefer to think of them as riding with ‘the man’! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo – we did three additional laps around the complex before pulling into the finish line for day 1.  A Century was complete, and we had gone the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;extra mile&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; – for ourselves, for our team, for MS, and for all the others who contemplate whether going the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;extra mile&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; is worth it.  Trust me – it is.  If not, it would be analogous to marching the football all the way down the field to the one yard line, only to take a knee to run out the clock.  That’s not right. Give that extra effort, go the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;extra mile&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, and punch it into the end zone!  You’ll be glad you did.  I sure was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after approximately 7 months of riding on weekends, and finishing the MS ride, I am “officially” transitioning to training full-time for the Goofy Challenge.  My legs feel stronger than ever and I am excited about the months ahead.  I have had many individuals reach out and comment about how inspirational my effort is, and donate to the Leukemia Society at the same time.  In honor of these contributors, I pledge to you that &lt;strong&gt;I won’t stop at 39.3 miles&lt;/strong&gt;.  That would be taking a knee at the finish line.  Instead, I commit to you that I will get in an &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;extra .7 miles&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; in somewhere during the two days in Disney and run a full 40 miles!  I will go that &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;extra mile&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; – or .7 miles to be exact…for you, for me, for Team-In-Training and for the Leukemia Society.  I will punch it home!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-5950329687631522866?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/5950329687631522866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=5950329687631522866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/5950329687631522866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/5950329687631522866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/09/going-extra-mile.html' title='Going The Extra Mile'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-8920712117644350530</id><published>2007-09-11T16:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T18:03:19.753-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Did Graffiti...and met a New Hero</title><content type='html'>A few weekends ago, I had the opportunity to participate in my first formal Team-In-Training group fundraising event. TNT holds a few of these throughout the training season to help TNT participants achieve their fundraising goals (and mine is an aggressive $5,000). This was a simple event – spray painting “markers” on roads on a Saturday evening for a charity 60-mile bike ride that was taking place on Sunday morning. Paying me to do graffiti??? I'll take 2 cans!. Doesn't really get better than that. Anyway, the markers would direct the bike riders of the proper direction of the ride. Easy enough. The roads I had to mark were out in the country where I do my weekend group bike rides with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mojo&lt;/span&gt;’s, so I was familiar with the area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was paired with another TNT member – Wendy, who is also training for a marathon, albeit in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Kiawah&lt;/span&gt;, South Carolina in December. Wendy brought along for our graffiti fest (do I sound like a thug?) her recently adopted son, Jeremiah. We had a chance to get to know one another during our two hours together in the car, and share stories about why we are training with TNT. Wendy’s story was inspiring – she has served as a foster mother to 6 children over the course of the past few years. The children were primarily newborns and toddlers that come from often unfortunate circumstances, and are placed in Wendy’s care until an adoption family can be found. Wendy’s compassion for these children was evident, as she knew she was always meant to be in this role of service to others. Not expecting to adopt herself, Jeremiah is so fortunate to have found his way to Wendy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even more amazing, is that Wendy is training to &lt;strong&gt;WALK&lt;/strong&gt; the 26.2 mile marathon in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Kiawah&lt;/span&gt;, with Jeremiah (now 15 months) on her back!!! Talk about commitment, not just to the children, but to a training program. A special bond will continue to form between the two during the many hours of training that will be necessary to accomplish this feat. When I think about it, her journey is going to be even more time consuming and possibly more fulfilling than mine. I will be running, certainly with weight on my shoulders (for other reasons), but not with an additional 25 – 30 pounds strapped to my back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wendy and Jeremiah are just another example of the heroes I am meeting during this experience. I wish them well and hope our paths will cross again during training.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walk on Wendy and Jeremiah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-8920712117644350530?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/8920712117644350530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=8920712117644350530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/8920712117644350530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/8920712117644350530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-did-graffitiand-met-new-hero.html' title='I Did Graffiti...and met a New Hero'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-4890190791442110186</id><published>2007-09-06T20:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T21:14:36.865-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Have I got Mojo?</title><content type='html'>Yeah, baby!!!! Austin Powers has nothing on me. I ooze Mojo! Some people have it and some don't. Perhaps I am one of the privileged few who can claim this. But the better question may be, how did I get my Mojo? I haven't always had it, and it wasn't lost, but I hadn't found it yet. It all came together in early 2006. That's when my Mojo went through the roof when I joined the &lt;a href="http://www.mojoriding.com/"&gt;Mojo Riding team.&lt;/a&gt; Ok, so it doesn't sound that exciting in print as it does in person. However, if having Mojo has to do with wearing neon pink and green spandex, then I am busting at the biking short seams! And looking good in these colors (as long as I am surrounded by my team. I'm not stupid. I wouldn't go out at night by myself wearing these colors. But I am secure in my masculinity). Anyhooo....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Mojo Riding team is a group of road bikers who gather each weekend for group bike rides around south Charlotte and into neighboring communities. Rides are anywhere from 30 to 100 miles on a given day. I mostly do 30 - 50 mile rides, early on weekend mornings, but have done a few 60 milers, and in 2 weekends (on Sept 15 - 16), will be riding with my Mojo mates in the MS150 bike ride in Myrtle Beach. Yeah, baby...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will most likely ride 175 miles over the course of the weekend - 100 miles on Saturday and 75 miles on Sunday. Flashes of pink and green averaging anywhere from 18 - 20 miles an hour. Sure, my butt will be sore, but isn't it for a good cause -raising $$ for MS? And, I have heard a rumor that there will be butt massages at the finish line each day. Yeah, baby...stimulating the Mojo???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this begs the question, have I even been running to get ready for the Goofy Challenge? Absolutely, but not as much as I have been riding over the past few months. Have to make sure the glutes are in good condition for when the beach babes with twitchy fingers greet me each day. And if you are all good to me and keep reading my blog, I may tell you about my fundraising bike ride in 2006 - &lt;a href="http://www.24hoursofbooty.com/"&gt;"The 24 Hours of Booty".&lt;/a&gt; Booty...oohh - yeah baby!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-4890190791442110186?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/4890190791442110186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=4890190791442110186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/4890190791442110186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/4890190791442110186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/09/have-i-got-mojo.html' title='Have I got Mojo?'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-6419492643887475869</id><published>2007-08-30T16:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T17:23:11.005-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Are You Nuts? No, just Goofy!</title><content type='html'>Inspiration to do something special can come from many sources. Reading a good article. Swapping stories with fellow athletes. Or even seeing something in person that you brought a tear to your eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I can trace back my first moment of inspiration to run a marathon to nearly 7 years ago when I watched &lt;a href="http://teamhoyt.com/"&gt;Team Hoyt &lt;/a&gt;compete in the Hawaii Ironman Triathlon Championships. What a father would do for his son is amazing, and Dick and Rick Hoyt have a very special bond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had two discussions with my dad recently about my 39.3 quest. Positive, reinforcing messaging was expected. Conversation #1 went something like this - Ken: "I am going to run a 1/2 and full marathon in January in Orlando. A total of 39.3 miles". Dad: "What? Are you nuts?" Like I said - special bonding moments. I explained that as a runner, there are certain goals I want to achieve. This past week I had conversation #2, as we revisited the moment that is now less than 5 months away. Response from Dad: "You're going to kill yourself." Man, it doesn't get more inspiring than that. Now in fairness, I did tell my dad I was going to blog about his perspective, and therefore I get the final word. You see, when it comes to exercise, lets just say he favors finger exercises on the TV remote, so I should have expected this response!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings me to mom. The lifeline. Suffered through labor to deliver this athlete into the world. Ever supportive and reassuring since my first boo-boo many years (ok - nearly 40) ago. She wanted to "discuss" my 39.3 journey like any mom would. Enthusiastic, upbeat, inspiring conversation, right? Uh, that's a big negatory... Her first comments - "Have you really thought this through? I am concerned that you will have some sort of structure damage." Structural damage??? I am not bunging jumping, or running directly into brick walls here. Simply moving one foot in front of the other for hours at a time. Most people call that walking, or even running if there is any sort of pace to the activity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh boy, now I am getting worried. I haven't even spoken to Grandma yet about this. I better block out an hour for that conversation. You know, back in there day they didn't have sneakers, and every road was uphill...I think the word maimed may find its way into that discussion!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I nuts? No, just a bit Goofy....the distant cousin of nuts, and I don't plan on having a conversation with him. Thankfully, Goofy is a pretty upbeat "person" and generally just nods a lot...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-6419492643887475869?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/6419492643887475869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=6419492643887475869' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/6419492643887475869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/6419492643887475869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/06/are-you-nuts-no-just-goofy.html' title='Are You Nuts? No, just Goofy!'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-3620919243089066450</id><published>2007-08-24T08:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T08:50:29.724-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life's Great Inventions (no, not TIVO)</title><content type='html'>One of the questions I get asked often is “Why do you run?”  I first started in the winter of 2000, to show that I could complete a half-marathon (13.1 miles).  After that, I wanted to be able to say I completed a marathon (26.2 miles). During all that time, it was merely a goal.  Running really wasn’t much fun, and at times today, it still can be tedious.  But over the years, the act of running has moved from being a means to achieve a goal, to being necessary to avoid gaining weight and staying in shape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now those are two completely different goals, mind you.  As I approach 40, and as I am sure many of you know, the waistline tends to grow a little bit with age.  My metabolism isn’t quite what it used to be, and one to many Snickers bars (as I am eyeing the one on my snack tray of the airplane right now) has begun to take its toll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have watched over the past few years as my waist has gone from a 31 to a 32, and more recently to a 33.  Oh gasp!  Yes, I know you look at me and say shut-up already.   It's not so much about the weight as it is the placement of it.  It reminds me of an old Seinfeld episode, where Jerry is accused of taking his size 32 pants and changing the label so they read as a size a 31, all in an effort to deny the existence of love handles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this brings me to life’s latest, greatest invention.  &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The stretchy dress pant.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;  The ones with the hidden “waist extender.”  Are these cool, or what?  Pure comfort for a growing boy who eats too much unhealthy food.  I purchased my first pair recently, and I could easily be a life-long customer.  Bring on that Snickers bar, I have 2 extra inches to “play” with on this pair of pants I am wearing!  Who needs to exercise?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if by chance, I could lose an inch (or two) in my waist through all my training, I wouldn’t be upset.  I’ve been holding onto those 31s for just such an occasion. Seinfeld would be proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, my waist isn’t “39.3 and counting”….that would be bad…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-3620919243089066450?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/3620919243089066450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=3620919243089066450' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/3620919243089066450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/3620919243089066450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/08/lifes-great-inventions-no-not-tivo.html' title='Life&apos;s Great Inventions (no, not TIVO)'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3980123166429757221.post-5533086601183041178</id><published>2007-08-11T20:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T16:32:01.651-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's get this party started!</title><content type='html'>Welcome to the first Ken Bansemer "39.3 and Counting" blog post!&lt;br /&gt;Why am I blogging? I have never done this before, but those that know me well, know that I enjoy playing with prose to look at the lighter side of life, and have some fun in the process. So for the next 5+ months, I am committing to blogging regularly to share my perspective on my journey from age 39.3 to age 40. But it is more than that. 39.3 and Counting - the blog title - is the total mileage I am planning on running during January 12 - 13, 2008 in Orlando, Florida during the &lt;a href="http://disneyworldsports.disney.go.com/dwws/en_US/marathon/listing?name=MarathonEventListingPage2&amp;bhcp=1"&gt;Walt Disney World Marathon Weekend&lt;/a&gt;. 13.1 miles on Saturday and 26.2 miles on Sunday. The unofficial "Goofy Challenge" since I didn't register in time to make the official Goofy list. Let's remember, it's the effort that counts, and this is going to be one heck of an effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am running as part of &lt;a href="http://www.teamintraining.org/nc"&gt;Team-In-Training &lt;/a&gt;(TNT) through the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. I will train with a group of people from Charlotte, and on behalf of Mark Bachman (our TNT Honored Hero - more on that in a future post). This is where you come in. I need your support, both financially and in words of encouragement as I train over the next 5 months. I have set a goal to raise $5,000 for TNT. Please help support my effort by make a tax-deductible contribution to my effort by &lt;a href="http://www.active.com/donate/tntwnc/Bansemer"&gt;clicking here&lt;/a&gt;, or on the Help Support My Fundraising Efforts link above.  And, I welcome your words on encouragement and support during this time through my blog. You can add comments (see link below) and keep me honest during my training. I will commit to share my training activities, so you will know I am on track to deliver in January.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The official 40 date is February 23, 2008. I am determined to go in with style (not to mention in shape!). To run a marathon at age 40 was conceived after I did my only other marathon on December 10, 2000 in Tampa, Florida. Training for that was a huge time commitment which I knew I couldn't do regularly, but I have managed a 1/2 marathon each and every year, the other commitment I made in 2000.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, let this be the first of what I hope will be many interesting and unique postings about my &lt;strong&gt;"39.3 and counting"&lt;/strong&gt; journey. Bookmark this entry as a favorite, and come back and visit often. Let's get this party started!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3980123166429757221-5533086601183041178?l=393andcounting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/feeds/5533086601183041178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3980123166429757221&amp;postID=5533086601183041178' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/5533086601183041178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3980123166429757221/posts/default/5533086601183041178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://393andcounting.blogspot.com/2007/08/lets-get-this-party-started.html' title='Let&apos;s get this party started!'/><author><name>Ken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16423829282512497016</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
