A Colorado Bubba

Superman's Rocky Raccoon 100 Miler

2012-02-01T19:38:00.000-07:00

That's my coach, David Clark, and as I've noted before, Dave is an ultramarathoner. This weekend Dave will be running the Rocky Raccoon 100 mile race in Huntsville, Texas. As he ran me through my speed intervals today, Dave told me that his goal is to break 20 hours.

Dave's 41st birthday is also on Sunday, so if he finishes in exactly 20 hours, which will be at midnight, he will also get to celebrate his birthday at the finish line.

He also told me to keep this secret, and given my readership it'll probably remain a secret, but he's really targeting 100 miles in less than 18 hours. So, all you running readers out there, please go to Dave's page, and send runner's love for the big race.

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I saw that the record is like 12 hours. TWELVE HOURS(!) to run 100 miles. Forgive my math skills, but I think 100 miles is like 4 marathons. So, this dude, Ian Sharman, ran 12:44:33 last year. That's like running 3:11 marathons back to back to back to back.

I'm speechless...

and, fat, old, and slow.

Frosty's Sweating

2012-01-23T10:17:00.000-07:00

Frosty's ~~Frozen~~ Sweaty and Melting 10 mile race was completed on Saturday, and my goal was 1:45:00 (10:30/mile pace). I finished in 1:45:36 over a measured distance of 10.06 miles, which resulted in a 10:29/mile pace. I considered it a win and goal accomplished. Below is a breakdown of my pace during the race.

Mile 1: 9:51
Mile 2: 9:57
Mile 3: 10:06
Mile 4: 10:15
Mile 5: 10:20
Mile 6: 10:31
Mile 7: 10:45
Mile 8: 10:54
Mile 9: 11:00
Mile 10: 11:15
Last 338.42 ft: 10:54

Obviously, I haven't conquered the negative split concept.

Believe it or not, I was happy with Saturday's race. I basically achieved my goal, and Deborah was there to greet me at the finish line with a big hug, even though I was soaked sweaty and my face was covered in salt. That's love.

Deborah was wearing her new Texas A&M University hooded sweatshirt, which made me proud and happy, but because we haven't worked out quick boob access, she didn't flash me her victory boobs. Too bad.

My coach tells me it's time to begin increasing mileage, and I'm ready. Ready in the sense that my mind is ready to begin increasing mileage. My fat ass, on the other hand, may require more convincing. At this point, I'm at a loss as to why weight isn't falling off my frame. I've been watching my intake and I've working out hard. It seems like I should be down by about 20 lbs by now, but I'm still hovering around 260 lbs, which is obvious in the picture. I was going to see if I plateaued in 2007 at about the same weight, but I can't find my log book.

I'm going to use Deborah's advice and incorporate some weight training and spinning on non-running days to keep the calorie burn up. Hopefully, I can drop 20 or 30 lbs by May. If I don't, a sub 4 hour Colorado Marathon simply will not happen.

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Running and Conversing

During Rudolph's Revenge 10k and Frosty's Frozen 10 mile, I was behind girls that were chatting like they were on the phone. Not just a few words here or there, but detailed descriptions of Sally's new boyfriend's (blank)...and why Jen's skin can be so soft at 40...and how the the room's decor was calming during the 18 day labor before little Ulysses blessed her life.

It was so frickin annoying. Can't they at least act like this is hard? "Did you get water or Gatorade at the last aid station? Oh, me too. I like fruit-punch flavored unless it's made from a powder, but the lemon-lime is okay. The water tasted funky and had a little aftertaste. The volunteers were very friendly though, and did you see that girl's engagement ring? I could never wear those hair ties in the wind. Just too many tangles..."

In 2007, I ran with Carrie in the mountains, and she talked every step of the run. The best I could do was a few "yeah," "uh huh," and "uh uhs." I think it was stronger's way of letting me know where I stood on the conditioning ladder.

Before Christmas, I ran with a group from Life Time Fitness to look at Christmas Lights. My coach said, "you should come out. We have runner's of all abilities, and it will be fun." Only 7 runners showed up: two Ironman competitors, two ultramarathoners, two marathoners, and me. It was like a tempo run from hell keeping up, and I swear they weren't just talking during the run, they were singing frickin Christmas Carols.

I told Deborah that I'm buying an ipod.

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Bucko

I've been called Bubba all my life, but Deborah has taken to calling me "Bucko," as in "you think you know the answer, Bucko, but you don't have a clue," or "could you at least have printed out directions, Bucko?"

I kind of like being Bucko, so I'm officially changing my nickname to Bucko.

That's DrBucko to you, though.

Estes Christmas and Prostitution

2012-01-11T09:42:00.000-07:00

I ask you, is this a runner's physique? Or, a middle-aged well-fed runner-in-my-dreams bod? 4 hour marathon my ass. I'll be lucky not to crack the asphalt during the Colorado Marathon. I recently meet some industry colleagues, and I was introduced as a "marathoner." Both of the colleagues were runners, and, in fact, both of my colleagues looked like distance runners. The expression on their face was priceless when they looked at me and thought about marathoning, and all I could say was, "I'm a Clydesdale," as if they couldn't tell. Onward...

The family spent Christmas in Estes Park. The girls--Lexie, Deborah, and Miranda--went a week before Christmas to enjoy time without the boys. Lexie is on the left, Deborah in the middle looking gorgeous, and Miranda on the right. They look happy, huh? After we arrived--"we" being the boys and I--there was a noticeable tension and change of expression in the house.

Before leaving for Estes Park, I stopped at Target to get a travel size shampoo. Everyday, I would get cleaned up, including shampooing my flowing locks of hair, and everyday, I would see my reflection in the mirror and wonder why my hair looked like it needed an oil change. After about 5 days, I looked at the bottle and realized that I had bought a travel size conditioner.

This is what I look like when Deborah calls my name.

The deer made several appearances at the house while we were in Estes Park. They would walk up to the back patio and look into the house. Deborah told me that the girls had walked around naked before we got to Estes, so I just assumed the deer wanted to check out the human female body while the girls lounged in their glass enclosed habitat. One morning, I got the nerve to open the back door and walk out on the patio.

One little deer came up and nibbled on my fingers. She must have thought that I looked grain-fed, so I could have some leftovers on my fingers. Either that or they thought I was Santa Claus. You know, bearded, fat, jolly, greasy hair, and all that.

Obviously, deer won't walk up and nibble human fingers unless someone has been feeding them, which is a big no-no. It was very difficult to resist throwing some corn out behind the house especially since at least one of the females looked pregnant. In Deborah's words, "Cold, pregnant, and hungry. My motherly instincts are telling me to feed them." Fortunately, we resisted temptation, which was incredibly difficult, and the deer wandered off. I ended up eating the corn.

After Christmas we returned to Denver, and on a quiet New Year's Eve night, Deborah and I watched a show on Showtime called "Gigolos." Neither of us were that impressed with the show, or the gigolos for that matter, but we keep watching episode after episode until midnight. During this, our conversation turned into a discussion of which of the two of us could make a living as a prostitute.

It put me in a bad spot cause ya don't want to tell your wife that she ain't got it goin on at 49, but on the other hand, you don't want to tell your wife that she would be a great ho. Looking at the pictures posted in this blog, it's pretty easy to conclude that Deborah would be the bread-winning prostitute between the two of us, and I would take care of her at home. I can hear it now, "I cooked a great dinner for you baby, and let me rub your feet after a long day at work. Or, would you rather I get you a nice warm douche?"

We digress into the weirdest conversations sometimes, but at least we're always laughing. Well, almost always.

Happy New Year!

Running (Slowly) Towards Aging

2011-12-20T16:52:00.000-07:00

So I'm shopping for Christmas gifts, and I see Justin Bieber's Christmas CD. Miranda <3 Justin Bieber.

"Under the Mistletoe." Hmm. The picture kind of looks like he got caught doing something under the mistletoe. Anyway, I began to wonder how many photos they took to get the "Under the Mistletoe" cover look that Justin Bieber and Miranda wanted.

Which brings me back to me. I went racing last weekend, and ran Colorado Runner's Rudolph's Revenge 10k in a slow 1:02:48. It was actually 6.28 miles, so my watch had me averaging 9:59/mile. Finally, after years of trying, I got back to the 9 minute miles. Barely.

I was all happy and stuff, but yesterday, I say the picture from the race. That's what I look like? OMG, it's scary. I bet Justin Bieber, like any other girl, would never post a picture that, let's say, makes them look normal, bad, or in my case, old and scary.

But, here is DrBubba running his latest 10k in Littleton, Colorado on Saturday, December 17, 2011.

I'm huge.

And I'm old.

Look at that loose skin under my chin. I look like my dad except that he never had a beard. What's really bad is that I look like this after losing 20 lbs since October. No wonder Deborah (wife) wanted me to stop groping her. Ewww.

The weight I can continue to do something about, but the hound-dog skin around my face looks permanent. From here on out, I'm gonna have to start photoshopping my photos. I definitely don't want my wife to see me like this.

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Next month on January, 21, 2012, I'll be running Colorado Runner's Frosty Frozen 10 mile race as part of my preparation for the Colorado Marathon in May. Let's hope I look smaller and more handsome in January. Either that or I'm getting my personal photographer to run along backwards in front of me and shoot 100 photos/mile. Out of 1000 pics, there has to one that makes me look Biesirable.

Daddy/Daughter Bonding

2011-12-09T10:53:00.000-07:00

Although periodically I'm reminded that she's really my stepdaughter, I consider Lexie to be my daughter, and I treat her exactly the same as Justin and Jarrod. This morning Lexie was finishing her breakfast, and I held out my arms out for a big hug. Lexie looked at me with that "oh, no" look and said, "What?!"

I told her, "Lexie, I wanted to give you a hug and a kiss."

With that she turned to me, closed her eyes, held her head back, and opened up her arms, which granted me her consent to proceed with the kissing thing. I picked her up, gave her a big smooch on the forehead, and set her back down.

As she turned to walk back to her Lucky Charms, Lexie concluded, "I think moms give better kisses than dads."

Laughing Tube

2011-12-08T21:21:00.000-07:00

That's Deborah's mom and dad, Nancy and Ken Griswold, when they visited our house for Thanksgiving a couple of years ago. This year, Nancy was called away to see a very sick friend in Massachusetts that was Deborah's godmother. After traveling to Massachusetts and spending a few days, Nancy began to feel sick. After another day, Nancy was in the hospital in Greenfield with a breathing tube and double pneumonia. She was very sick.

Fortunately, the antibiotics began to work, and although she remained in intensive care, she began improving. When we could finally call, we learned that Nancy could not speak--she could write on a pad and Deborah's sister, Donna, would read the notes back to us. Donna had told us that Nancy was able to get up and walk a little earlier in the day, and as the phone call began, I thought what Nancy needed was a little laughter to make her feel better.

Nancy, "mom," is a free spirit like her daughter Deborah. After our wedding ceremony last year, the DJ was spinning records, and Nancy wanted to dance with me. During a particularly slow song, when I was trying to keep my dancing space at a respectable distance, Nancy pulled me tight and grabbed both cheeks of my ass, as in, I got seriously felt-up. By my mother-in-law. We still laugh about mom checking Deborah's merchandise.

Anyway, I knew Nancy could appreciate my humor. So Deborah talked to her mom for a few minutes, and her mom responded by writing a couple of notes, which Donna read to Deborah. When Deborah handed me the phone I said, "Nancy it's great to hear that you're doing better, and we sure do miss you. I heard that you were able to get up and walk around a little today. Was that gown you're wearing open in the back?"

Nancy almost choked on the breathing tube trying to laugh. Apparently, it's not easy to laugh after a tracheotomy and breathing tube are inserted with double pneumonia. After a second, Nancy wrote, "yes, my ass was hanging out," which Donna read over the phone. I wish I'd seen that.

Nancy is slowly recovering now and was finally discharged from the hospital after a 10 day stay. They had a very low key Thanksgiving in Massachusetts, but we all were very thankful that Nancy is on the mend and never lost her sense of humor.

Nancy, if you're reading, I want you to know that Deborah's got me looking for Salsa dancing lessons to work on my Latin dance moves. Don't be surprised when I see you next if we do a little dirty dancing.

On the other hand, I've already seen you do some of those moves after a couple glasses of Cabernet. Or was it with Chuck E Cheese?

Turkey Day With A Trot

2011-11-27T20:42:00.000-07:00

My coach said he needed a hard 5k time, and I decided that I wanted to break 30 minutes in the 5k. But, my coach also said I could run a 28 minute 5k. Well coach, I ran hard, and I achieved my goal, that is, I ran the Anthem Turkey Day 5k in 29:44. Yea! It wasn't as fast as he wanted, but achieving my goal was a win for my Colorado Marathon training program.

I finished 13 out of 30 in the 50-59 age group, which for me is pretty good; however, I was outrun by a 7-, 8-, and three 10 year old boys; four men over 60, and a 70 year old man. Clearly, I still have a lot of work to do.

My wife, best supporter, and Turkey Day boob flasher, Deborah, was with me at the trot taking pictures. She was up on a small atoll with a view of the start and finish. At the start, I was waving to her so she could pick me out of the crowd of 9 minute milers, but something in the grass caught Deborah's attention and she was looking down. So, no start pictures, which is really a good thing because I didn't have to suck in my gut at the start and finish.

As I made the final turn, Deborah was on me and started snapping pictures. Normally, finishing a race would have earned a boob flash, but Deborah was dressed in about 16 layers, and it was impossible to unleash the perky girls in such a short period of time. Not to mention we didn't want to get arrested before preparing the feast for the kids.

We talked about it afterwards and decided for future winter races, we should create undergarments with boob cut-outs...like so

Deborah will simply have to open her outerwear to flash me the victory sign. I know this may sound juvenile, but really guys, are you motivated by a finishers medal or perfect breasts. I got medals, and they're nice, but I'll never see enough of my wife's boobs. On my deathbed, with my last gasp of air, I hope I ask Deborah if I can see her boobs just one more time. But I digress...

After the trot, we had a wonderful pre-prepared turkey dinner that I purchased. It's not that I'm too lazy to cook, it's just that our oven electronics burnt up for the second time. It cost $1500 to fix it the first time, and I'm not paying for a third set of electronics with a design flaw. We've managed to get by without the oven by using the heck out of our microwave, which is Whirlpool's equivalent of a Betty Crocker Easy Bake Oven. Anyway, without an oven and since it takes 6 years to cook a turkey in the Whirlpool Easy Bake Oven, we purchased our dinner this year.

By the end of the day, Deborah and I had attended and run a 5k race. We applauded a 5 year old girl that finished the 5k in about 36 minutes, and we applauded an 81 year old woman that finished in 39 minutes. We bought about 300 meals for Americans going hungry, and we thanked God for our family and the life we've earned. Thursday, 24 NOV 2011, was truly a happy thanksgiving.

Balls and Turkey Trot

2011-11-21T10:15:00.000-07:00

Balls...

It's the new 'word' around the house.

"Did you see the balls on that table?"

"That sucks balls."

"And his ball-handling skills are excellent."

'Balls' started with our 15 year old sophomore, Miranda, and now she and Deborah giggle nonstop about 'ball' this or 'ball' that. It's hard not to chuckle because they are laughing.

Deborah recently told me that she wanted a medicine ball to help with her ab workouts. I said that we would go to Dick's Sporting Goods to get one, and, of course, she replied, "I would like to feel Dick's balls before I buy them."

After buying them, I told her she would have to carry the "ball-sack."

When we got home, Deborah asked Miranda, "Would you like to see Dick's balls?"

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It's Turkey Trot time again. As noted last year, I've completed personal turkey trots each of the last 5 years, so this year marks my 6th year trotting before putting on the feed bag.

However, this year is different. My coach wants a competitive timed 5k trot, so I registered for the Anthem Turkey Day 5k - 10k. I said I wanted to break 30 minutes, and he said I could run 28 minutes. I told him I don't know how to run a 5k. He said warm up a little and start running.

I'm more nervous about the 5k than I was for the Estes Park 1/2 this past summer. So nervous that I was just going to sneak out Thanksgiving morning and run a race before anyone knew I was gone. Deborah said, "No way. I want to see you run. It's been a long time since I've seen you run a race."

So, I relented, and Deborah is going with me.

"Besides," Deborah added, "I'd rather watch you run than watch the boys play with their balls while you are out having fun."

Miranda chimed in, "Now that it's getting colder, the boys have squishy balls? Can you make their balls harder?"

And Lexie concluded, "Sure. DB can fix balls. He can fix anything."

Happy Thanksgiving Everybody!

Mom's A BADASS, Mom's Little Girl, and An IMPORTANT Message

2011-11-09T13:17:00.000-07:00

The Deadlift

Yesterday, I did my normal Tuesday base run, and I was feeling pretty good about myself. After the run, I went over to sit with Deborah while she deadlifted. When I get over to the deadlift platform, she has 185 lbs on the bar, which she easily deadlifts twice. So she says, "I've been feeling really strong. I should try to do 200 lbs. So that's 5 lbs and 2-1/2 lbs plates added to each side, right?"

I agreed, and we bumped the bar up to 200 lbs. After telling me not to look at her--she's afraid I'll make her laugh or pee or something--she moves me to a viewing spot out of the way. Deborah then wraps her lifting-straps around the bar and smoothly dead-lifts 200 lbs.

Holy Shizzzz!

How many other petite less-than-50-but-close year olds can dead-lift 200 lbs. Not very damn many is the answer.

If they're in the gym at all, they're thinking of 10, 2, and 4 chocolate bon-bons while gliding on an elliptical for 6 minutes before walking around the gym twice to look at the other weird machines and free weights, which they avoid like the plague because in the words of Fred Stoller (I think), "I tried lifting weights, but they're sooo heavy."

It's no wonder all the gym rats stare at Deborah while she's working out. It's rare to see girls lifting, rarer still to see girls lifting well, and rarest of all to see a built beautiful babe lifting more than the duds...er...dudes.

It's either that or her perky nipples.
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Lexie is in 1st grade.

She reads like at least a 3rd grader.

Deborah is studying for the GRE so that she can enter a Masters degree program.

So...last night, Lexie picks up Deborah's review words and starts reading them,

"remunerate,"

"heterogeneous,"

"autonomous,"

"commensurate..."

Deborah and I were looking at each other like WTF?
She's in 1st grade.

After more words, Lexie says, "I could quit school and take the test for you mommy."

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Protesters at Penn State.

The masses at Penn State protested to save Joe Paterno. A single family protested at Penn State to save victims. Think about it.

Thoughts

2011-11-04T11:06:00.000-06:00

So I went to Dick's Sporting Goods the other day and saw this...

My first thought was I want one, but then the sales guy saw me taking a picture and said that they were taking inventory. I looked up and said, "Ok, two boobs and no head. Just thought I'd help."

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Deborah came into my office after a very trying week with the men in her life and said, "boys must be stupid(!) until..." At this point she looked me in the eyes, realized what she was saying, and added, "...well...until...I don't know when."

I got the feeling by the gist of the conversation that she included all males at least 50 and under.

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Did I mention I'm running the Colorado Marathon next spring? I'll be 50.

Long Run for an Ultramarathoner

2011-10-19T17:12:00.000-06:00

I asked my coach what he considers a long run for an ultramarathoner. He said that as he prepares for a 100 miler, he will always get in at least a couple 50 mile runs. And he added his workouts during the week are about the same as a marathoner, but on weekends, he'll run two long runs. The long runs are in terms of hours instead of miles, for example, 5 hours on Saturday followed by 3 or 4 hours on Sunday would be considered 2 long runs.

Makes my feet hurt thinking about it.

My bucket-with-holes-in-the-bottom list held the following.
1. Jumping from an airplane.
2. Climbing an 8000 m peak. (I'd still like to trek to base camp.)
3. Completing an ultramarathon.

Fortunately, those 3 have leaked out of the bucket and I don't have to consider doing them. My other bucket list remains quite full, including a sub 4:00:00 marathon on May 6, 2012.

My Coach Wins Boulder 12 Hour Run

2011-10-17T16:20:00.000-06:00

My coach, David Clark, was the first male finisher in the Boulder 12-hour run yesterday. Officially, he ran 64.26 miles in 12 hours, but he made another loop that finished 2 minutes beyond the 12 hour limit, that is, he ran 71.4 miles in 12 hours and 2 minutes. Sheeeeeitttt! I'm impressed.

He told me today that he hadn't done a l-o-n-g run since the Leadville 100, so he felt really strong.

(What's a long run to an ultramarathoner? I need to ask that on Wednesday)

And as if nothing happened, he showed up for workout today and put me through my fat-ass paces. I only thought I was embarrassed by running a slow 5.05 miles over the weekend. Today, I was really embarrassed that I can even think tired after my coach did that yesterday and just seems his normal self today.

He did say his core was a little tight. His core is tight? Yeah, right. They'd still be scrapping my dead big-ass core off the 7.14 mile loop today if I tried that.

It's good to know my coach can run-the-run and not just talk-the-talk.

Walk. Run. Stumble. Repeat

2011-10-16T20:10:00.000-06:00

I'm back here. God dammit!

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I hired a coach to help me prepare for the Colorado Marathon. His name is David Clark, and I think he would consider himself an ultramarathoner. I just finished my first week following David's plan, which included a strength and core workout and interval training.

INTERVAL training.

DrBubba?

The two have never mixed before this week, but I did it. I've been working out for years, including running, stair climbing, and weight training, but I was so sore after David's strength and core workout that it reminded of two-a-days when I played football. I could barely walk down the stairs at home much less run.

On Friday, I completed my Metabolic testing, so now I know my training zones. Apparently, I have trained my body to not burn fat, which is a very bad thing for a big Clydesdale-sized runner. I think David is going to retrain my body to be an efficient fat-burning machine. Meanwhile, I had to complete a Zone 2, 5 mile, long-slow-distance run yesterday. There was nothing "long" about a 5 mile run, but slow, yeah, it was s-l-o-w distance. OMG, it was so embarrassing. Over an hour to go 5.05 miles while not letting my heart rate increase above 130 bpm. This training plan better damn sure work cause I'm going to follow it to the letter. Even if people do laugh. Grrr.

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Nothing funny happened this week. There were some laughs, but easily negated by other issues. God, I want things to change.

Wiener Juice

2011-10-10T08:49:00.000-06:00

Deborah is doing laundry yesterday, and throws a pair of my clean underwear at Lexie, but tells Lexie that they're dirty. Lexie is running away doing the usual "ew yuk" stuff when Deborah asks whats wrong with dirty underwear?

Lexie says, "They're full of wiener juice."

WTF?! She's only seven. Where the hell did she hear that?

Ends up she put "wiener" and "juice" together herself. Smart girl.

And damn funny.

1st Anniversary Celebration: Part III - Aw Hail No And Finale

2011-10-10T08:37:00.000-06:00

After such a wonderful Saturday evening and sleeping in, Deborah suggested that we head down to the pool on Sunday afternoon. Deborah and I had stayed together at the Venetian in 2007 while I was in town to run the St. George Marathon, and on Sunday morning after the marathon, we went out to enjoy the Venetian pools without any other people around. We had a gigantic jacuzzi all to ourselves before Deborah headed in to get a massage. I think we both wanted to repeat that experience.

It was a beautiful day, that is, not too hot, and many people were enjoying the Venetian pools. Deborah and I walked over to the same jacuzzi we had relaxed in during our 2007 trip, and amazingly, there wasn't a soul in or around the pool. So, we make ourselves comfortable and jump in. Within 5 minutes, people start arriving from every direction, and our little pool starts to get crowded...then we heard thunder.

I'm thinking Las Vegas is in a desert, right? So at most we might get a few sprinkles followed by wonderful sunshine. It starts with sprinkles. Then, a little thunder, and heavier rain. At this point, all the girls with their boobs hanging out of their bikini tops began to worry about their hair. The lightening and the real possibility of being electrocuted in a pool didn't seem to bother anyone as much as the thought of their hair getting messed up. BUT, nobody moved to get out of the pool, including us.

A little heavier rain, and then the hail started--pea-sized, or maybe a little bigger.

Still, nobody moved. It was all so ridiculous. No one was willing to give up their place in the pool, so we all waited out a hailstorm. After a few minutes of hail and a little more rain, it all stopped. As expected, the sun came out and it was a beautiful day again.

So we're all still sitting in the pool, and a Venetian employee comes out and tells us that we have to get out of the pool. The Venetian decided that in order to protect our safety they needed to close the pool after the storm had passed. Needless to say, our pool experience in 2011 wasn't quite the same as 2007. Everything we took outside with us was soaked, but we gathered it up and went back to the room. Ah, memories.

After attending Zumanity that evening, we retired to our suite for another fine meal and a movie. It was so good, I can't even remember the name of the movie.

On Monday morning, we were up and packed to return to Denver. Before leaving, we decided to go to the Venetian shops to get gifts for the kids. As we're walking through the shops, Deborah notices a statue in the middle of the walkway. I had walked past the same statue at least a 1/2 dozen times, and every time, people are laying money on the pedestal. I'm thinking...Italian...Catholicism...people must be donating to the church. Then one time when I was walking by, I noticed that the statue moved. Holy shit, it's a dude. So, I tell Deborah that it's a guy and not a statue, and she has to go back for another look.

Like everyone else, we had to leave some cash for the statue too. Way cool.

So that was it. Our 1st Anniversary Celebration came to a close, and we both realized that it was the best weekend of our lives. Seriously.

By the time we hit the ground in Denver, we were getting reports about the kids, schedules that had to be maintained, doctor's appointments, punishments, money, stress, ...

Deborah looked at me and said, "Can we go back?"

Sirius-ly

2011-10-04T11:53:00.000-06:00

So yesterday my 20 year old stepson and I were picking up Deborah's car. He gets out and says, "Man, I love satellite radio."

I replied, "Yeah, me too. Originally, I didn't think I'd like it, but now I want it in all our cars."

Then he noted, "Man it's probably perfect for you since they have all that OLD music you like."

Maynard are you reading this? I need something new.

1st Anniversary Celebration: Part II - Phantom Yo Eleven

2011-10-04T11:12:00.001-06:00

Our anniversary celebration was never about gambling. We simply wanted time away together without kids where we could enjoy each others company while taking in shows and eating good food.

As noted in 1st Anniversary Celebration: Part I - The Invitation, our only tight scheduling was the airplane departures. Deborah did a fantastic job and was actually ready to leave for the airport before I was, and our flight to Las Vegas went off without a hitch. When we arrived in Las Vegas, our driver was waiting for us, and after retrieving bags we were off to the Venetian.

After traveling, Deborah needs some time to unwind, so we checked into our suite and she tried to relax. What Deborah didn't know is that I had arranged for 2 dozen lavender roses to be delivered to the room after we checked in. She kept trying to get me to leave so she could relax, but I kept stalling and hanging around. Finally the roses were delivered, and the arrangement was beautiful, but huge. Deborah took 40 or 50 pictures of the roses with the vase in numerous positions throughout the suite.

After I left the room, I played a few slot machines, lost some money, and went searching for a Diet Coke. All the food service establishments in The Venetian have only Pepsi products, and every since Pepsi's now CEO, Indra Nooyi, used her middle finger to describe the United States, I will not drink Pepsi products. Period.

So I left the Venetian looking for Diet Coke. Las Vegas in September is still hot, as in 103°F hot, with sun light trying to burn a hole through everyone and everything. I took off walking down the strip being constantly approached by card flickers advertising the "best adult entertainment" and "girls delivered straight to me." I just wanted a Diet Coke, and I definitely didn't want some naked ho delivering it to me, so I kept walking.

I've been to Las Vegas maybe 20 or 25 times over the years, and I've never seen Elvis. During my quest for a Diet Coke, I saw Elvis walking down the strip. Sweating. In a Spandex jump suit, which was also soaked in sweat. Way way too much of his physique was recognizable. Waayy toooo much.

Ya think dressing as Elvis in Las Vegas gets a guy laid?

Anyway, in the middle of the Strip, I found a McDonalds, which I despise, but I knew they would have Diet Coke, so I went in and ordered an extra large cup. I'm sitting at a table drinking my Diet Coke and realize that I'm surrounded by guys and girls in hot pants and 6 inch heels. They weren't bothering me. It's just that they seemed to be everywhere.

I'm sure they're writing on their blog about a sweaty tourist from Kansas or somewhere drinking Diet Coke from the fountain and staring at them in a McDonalds. That would be me.

Our first night was very relaxed. We ordered in-room dining and went to sleep in separate rooms with the sounds of the Mirage's volcano erupting every so often. I know, almost too exciting.

The next day we woke late and took a walk over to Wynn's Las Vegas. It was there that Deborah found the unlocked Ferrari and got in. I'm the one that asked her to show me a boob for one of the pictures. After revealing her boob, people started walking toward the Ferrari for some reason. On group said, "I didn't know we could sit in the Ferrari," and I replied, "Neither did we." Before we could haul ass, a line of people was forming to sit in the Ferrari and flash their boobs. Ok, maybe they just wanted to sit in the Ferrari. I'm sure the owner was none too pleased to come outside later and find people sitting in his Ferrari with gum stuck under the seat, spilled vodka on the console, and an interior that wreaked of beer and sweat.

Later that night, we attended our first show, which was The Phantom at The Venetian.

Both Deborah and I had seen The Phantom of the Opera before we met one another. I saw the show in about 1998 in Denver, and I thought it was wonderful. Unfortunately, the person I attended Phantom with in 1998 was a psycho bitch. My big boss had invited us to attend Phantom with he and his wife along with some very important customers. My ex turned up the psycho to max, and we were never invited anywhere with my bosses or customers again. Needless to say, I gave up any hope of climbing the corporate ladder that night.

When the movie version of The Phantom of the Opera was released, I also watched it with the boys over and over. I'm a sucker for chick flicks and romance.

Prior to leaving for Las Vegas, I had gone way over budget on some fancy clothes for me while Deborah spent a fraction of what I did, but bought some amazing clothes. On the night of The Phantom when Deborah put on her dress, she looked so beautiful. She was absolutely stunning. We went down the elevator with everyone sneaking peeks of her.

The Venetian photographer snapped our photo (for only $45) as we entered the theater. We both thought that it was the best picture we had ever taken together. Considering the seats that we had purchased, I thought beforehand that we would be seated next to similarly dressed theater goers. Not so. We had a row of chubby women in shorts behind us eating drumsticks and cotton candy. The audience was an interesting mix of fashionably dressed couples and tourists right off the strip. I didn't expect that.

After the show, which was fantastic, we had reservations at AquaKnox, which is in the Venetian. I selected a surf-n-turf off-menu special, which I have since learned is the number one selling item at AquaKnox. It is a filet mignon and crab-stuffed lobster, and the link will take you to the recipe, but I highly recommend letting the chefs at AquaKnox prepare it for you. Deborah and I also shared a bottle of 2009 Jordan Chardonnay. If you find yourself traveling to Las Vegas, I highly recommend AquaKnox and Jordan Chardonnay.

As we were leaving AquaKnox, Deborah and I decided to play some craps. Deborah's not really a gambler, so I should have written that I decided to play some craps with Deborah standing next to me. So we start playing, and we're staying basically even--a hundred up, then a hundred down. As we keep playing, the table gets a little hotter and we start winning. Of course, Deborah is still looking beautiful in her dress and all the men at the table are sneaking long wishful glances at her. I was eating it up. After a while, an elderly gentleman squeezes into the table next to her. He never placed a single bet, but he damn sure tried to burn a whole through her dress to see those perfect boobs. The dude was practically drooling--it's possible he did actually drool, but I didn't see it.

The dice come around to Deborah, and everyone wants her to roll. So we put down bets for both of us, and she starts rolling. Since she had never rolled craps dice before, Deborah didn't necessarily know all the do's and don'ts, and she mistakenly reached down to grab the dice with both hands. Big no no. Everyone yells, "one hand!" So she grabs with one hand, throws the dice, one goes off the table, across the aisle, and hits a scantily-clad waitress in the butt. "Sorry. Same dice!" She got the hang of it really fast, and won us some money. When we walked away from the table, we had won $300, which doesn't make us high rollers, but it was a lot of fun.

After getting back to the room, Deborah crawled in bed and watched Whitney Cummings on Comedy Central. I've never heard Deborah laugh like that before. As we retired to our separate rooms, we both realized that it had been an amazing night. A stupendous celebration of our 1st anniversary.

Notable Quotes

2011-10-03T09:05:00.000-06:00

While reading last week, I came across a couple of quotes that I thought were note worthy. The first is attributed to Charles Newcomb, section manager for wind and water at the National Renewable Energy Laboratory, and was published in the Boulder Daily Camera.

If you're going to invest millions of dollars in a (wind) turbine, it's not a great idea to put it in a location where there is no wind.

It seems that the people of Superior, Colorado have funded a wind turbine and the only remaining question is where to put it. They could put it near town where the townspeople can look at the wind turbine and feel good about themselves, except that there is no wind and the turbine won't generate electricity. Conversely, they could put it out on the eastern Colorado plains where they can't see it everyday, but there's lots of wind for the turbine to actually generate electricity. An epic dilemma for the little green people of Superior.

The second quote is attributed to Lauren Fleshman, 2012 5000m Olympic hopeful, and published in Runner's World (November 2011).

I cherish my days off. Every seven to 10 days, I sit on my butt and do nothing. I try to sync time off with my triathlete husband so we can blob-ify ourselves by watching movies and eating too much.

Now that's a training plan that I could sink me teeth into.

1st Anniversary Celebration--Part I: The Invitation

2011-09-26T22:38:00.000-06:00

I wanted to surprise Deborah, so after planning...

and planning...

changing plans...

and planning some more, I created the following brochure. Keep in mind that Deborah does not know the destination. She only knows that we will be flying about 2 hours.

This was the cover with a West Coast kind of romantic beach-front misdirection hint.

Page 1 with more misdirection, but introducing the theme--"Special, Surprising, and Even Stupendous."

Page 2 with more West Coast misdirection, but suggesting that "Where the water is warm would be Special."

Page 3 with different types of food and running into celebrities would also be "Surprising."

Page 4 starts making it "Stupendous" by suggesting a show with semi-nude dancers--NOW I got her attention.

Page 5 continues the misdirection and making it "Stupendous" by including a "Bachelorette" Phantom tease.

Page 6 continues the misdirection, but tells Deborah that we will be going out with "classy" types, so we needed new clothes to fit in.

Finally, Page 7 simply listed a general itinerary and suggested packing list.

From the brochure, Deborah was supposed to have an idea of our "Special, Surprising, and Even Stupendous," 1st Anniversary Celebration, but unless she could unravel the clues, she still wouldn't know where we were going.

Two days later, I decided it was unfair to not tell her our detailed plans, so I updated the brochure as follows.

This was the cover with a West Coast kind of romantic beach-front misdirection hint, but "Updated."

Page 1 was my one and only subtle reminder that, "we have to go now," during the entire trip.

Page 2 was to let Deborah know that we would not be getting a rental car. My Ferrari rental car blog post exaggerated the rental, but not everything else.

Page 3 was to let Deborah know that we would be staying in a suite at the Venetian. More importantly, she had a bedroom to herself with doors so that my obnoxious seismiscity-inducing snoring would not keep her awake.

Page 4 was to let Deborah know that the Phantom would be the "Phantom of the Opera" at the Venetian.

Page 5 informed Deborah that no 1st Anniversary Celebration would not be complete without some erotica...

so we would be attending Cirque du Soleil's "Zumanity."

Page 6 let Deborah know that relaxation was designed into the Celebration with no go-go-go pressure.

Finally, all good things must end, so Page 7 contained our return reservations.

So that was the introduction I prepared for Deborah to our 1st Anniversary Celebration. Of course, it was still up to me to make all this stuff happen once the departure date approached, but I was reasonably certain that I had covered all the details.

In the next part, I'll begin describing some of the details. To Be Continued -- Part II: The Phantom Yo Eleven.

It's ON

2011-09-20T09:46:00.000-06:00

For at least 4 years, I have had a goal to run a marathon at 50 years old. On May 14, 2010, I reached the half century mark. To test my ability and fortitude, I completed the Estes Park half marathon this past June. Finishing at Estes Park convinced me that I can complete a marathon again. So...

I registered for the Colorado Marathon to be run on May 6, 2012, which means that I'll still be 50 years old and can complete my goal just shy of my 51st birthday. One thing I know is that it's easy to register for races, but much harder to train smart and injury free in preparation for the race. Not to mention how hard it is to finish the race itself.

In 2007, I ran my 1st marathon--The Steamboat Marathon--ugh. Compare a picture from the 2007 Steamboat Marathon with a 2011 Estes Park half marathon picture. Notice anything different?

No, not the facial hair. It's the extra 30 lbs of Blue Bell--amongst other foodstuffs--that I'm carrying. That has to go. I can't run another marathon at 260 lbs.

I also still have this crazy dream that I can break 4 hours in a marathon--my PR is 4:16:23--but the only way to break 4 hours is to be as light as possible and healthy. That means carefully watching my diet over the next 8 months while cautiously increasing mileage. I'm thinking I might need a coach this time to help me get it right, and I'm open to coaching recommendations.

Finally, there's another reason for minimizing me. Deborah and I have a very short window of time where we both will be 50 years old, and we have committed ourselves to a fine art nude-at-50 photo shoot. My goals are, first and foremost, to be handsome and toned for Deborah, and second, to not test the slimming limits of Photoshop.


photo by se.nsuo.us	via PhotoRee

I've been a fan of nude art for quite some time, and in the back of my mind, I've wanted the chance to "model" for something artistic. It never would have been possible without Deborah. Deborah is not just accommodating me, but is truly enthusiastic about the photo shoot. It is yet another reason why I love her.

Problem With The Rental Car

2011-09-16T10:21:00.000-06:00

As part of our anniversary celebration, Deborah and I flew to Las Vegas to see "Phantom" and "Zumanity". Instead of a limo, we arranged for a rental car, and upon arrival we we received a complimentary upgrade from a Kia to a Ferrari. Go figure.

It was all fine and good except that I didn't fit in the Ferrari and every time Deborah got in, her boobs would fall out. It was the damnedest thing.

Anyway, after exposing more of Deborah than "The Crazy Girls" to Asian tourists and some fat guy wearing a Cornhusker shirt, we left the Ferrari in front of Wynn's for other people to gawk at and told the car rental place to come get it.

A B Day

2011-09-08T20:05:00.000-06:00

Anniversary and Birth Day - A B Day

Mr. David P and Mrs. Deborah A Craig are celebrating their first anniversary this weekend. They will be ~~competing at a powerlifting competition and running a marathon~~ eating amazing food, sleeping late, and trying some naked stuff that kids can't imagine their parents doing.

Silly kids.

Justin and Jarrod had their 9th birthday. Yea! Justin got to drive go-carts at Unser Racing,...

Justin also got to wreck go-carts at Unser Racing...

He's obviously learned "the wall came out of nowhere" expression. I think he's flipping off the "dumb" barricades. Jarrod isn't as big a racing fan, so he ate chocolate.

Lots of stuff happening, but I'll leave it until the anniversary celebration is over.

In other words, I'm saving all my wit and energy for Deborah.

Silly silly kids.

Competitiveness

2011-09-02T08:35:00.000-06:00

How competitive is Deborah?

Last night we were reading my report from my colonoscopy, and the reported concluded with "...The quality of the bowel preparation was excellent." In other words I got an A+ on my test. Deborah's report said something to the effect of "...The quality of the bowel preparation was moderate," which I think means she got a B on her test.

If I told her once, I've told her a thousand times that eating all those healthy fruits and vegetables was going to bite her some day. In this case, all that healthy fiber was clinging to her colon, and it didn't get flushed out.

On the other hand, with my steady diet of Taco Bell bean burritos and 7-11 hot dogs, my ol colon cleaned right up.

Deborah demanded a rematch, so in 10 years we're having another Bowel Preparation Flush Off to see who can cleanse their colon the best. Meanwhile, I get to bask in the glory of my "win" for a decade.

On another note...

The report also stated, "...The patient tolerated the procedure well."

Is that some kind of jab, like are they saying I liked it? I would have rather the doctor wrote, "The patient, while sedated, was visibly upset and fought bravely with staff as the 5 foot long endoscope was shoved up his ass."

His & Hers

2011-09-01T11:57:00.000-06:00

Our 1st wedding anniversary is rapidly approaching, and the celebrating has already begun. As I've noted before, I'm 50 and Deborah is a very young XX (a number less than 50), so based on our doctor's recommendations, we scheduled his and hers colonoscopies. Now there's love.

Deborah went first about a month ago, and I helped her through it as best as I could. I went for my colonoscopy yesterday. Now for those that don't know, a colonoscopy uses an endoscope to go into the colon and look for polyps or tumors or something other than healthy tissue. In order to do that, the colon must be clear of...well...whatever normally occupies the colon. Think about it.

To cleanse the digestive system, the patient goes on a liquid diet for 24 hours or so, and the doctor prescribes a little more than a gallon of laxative. Deborah's a petite girl, and when she comes out of the bathroom exclaiming, "I can't believe that came out of me," I immediately started to worry. Because I'm anything but petite, and what's in me could be as big as Deborah--not what's in her, but equal to the size of her.

So anyway, Deborah makes it through the most invasive of procedures, and it's now my turn. So I get my prescription and go to the pharmacy. I know our pharmacist because her daughter goes to school with Lexie. You know, pharmacists know it all. Even more so than doctors. "Hello, Mr. Craig, how's the high blood pressure, congestion, acid reflux, depression, chronic pain, herpes simplex 1, erectile dysfunction, and oh, I see that now you need to flush your colon. Colonoscopy?" Nothing is truly private.

Deborah had told me that I would need to spend several hours in the bathroom, so while I was picking up the gallon of laxative, I decided to pick up a package of toilet paper. Deborah knows that I will buy anything and not blink an eye. You need tampons, I'm you're guy. Feminine hygiene, family planning, or sex toys, I'll stand in a long line at Wal-Mart and ask people's opinion of what I'm buying. It's no big deal.

But I'm standing at the pharmacy debating on whether to buy toilet paper with my prescription for CoLyte at the same time from a pharmacist that I know. Eventually, I decided what the hell, and I went to the counter with a package of Charmin Ultra Soft. After ringing up the CoLyte and the Charmin Ultra Soft, the last thing she said to me was, "Don't worry. You won't use all this toilet paper." I know it is hard, but couldn't the pharmacist have pretended that she didn't know what CoLyte was for. Anyway, I looked down at the floor, paid the pharmacist, and tried to walk out of the pharmacy like there was nothing in my colon and this CoLyte stuff was really a big misunderstanding.

After cleansing, and as I'm waiting in the endoscopy room, I'm looking around at the instruments. The nurse had laid out everything for the doctor and I saw about 1/2 a tube of "personal lubricant" squeezed out onto a piece of gauze. Ugh. Okay. Then I looked at the endoscope. The scope had lines marked on it that I concluded represented 10 cm segments, which is about 4 inches. So then I started counting the number of segments, 1, 2, 3, 4, ... holy sh*t...there's like 15 segments. I'm calculating in my head as I'm lying there with IV fluids running, oxygen flowing, and waiting for the sedation to hit. That's like 5 feet of endoscope and a 1/2 pound of lubricant all for me.

During one of my inquisitive moments, I saw a guy on the Internet impale himself with a 3 foot dildo. At the time, I thought no way. No. Way. Now I'm lying on a table looking at 5 feet of endoscope about to go in me. And my only thought was I hope they aren't videoing this. DrBubba's butt may have been on the Internet, but DrBubba's butt with 5 feet of snake inserted doesn't belong on this blog, YouTube, or America's Funniest Videos.

About that time, the nurse asked if I could feel the sedative working, and I said, "yeaazzzzzz...." When I woke up, it was over, and they said I passed.

What makes a doctor specialize in colonoscopy or endoscopy? Do you think they become immune to looking at people's butts. Cause if I had my choice, I would have loved to be the doctor probing Deborah versus the poor dude that had to look at my big ass. I wonder if they go home and tell the wife, "I did three 3's today, a 5, and one 9-1/2. Whoa!"

His and her colonoscopies? Maybe not the 1st wedding anniversary gift on everybody's list, but if it means decades of more wedding anniversaries with Deborah, it was worth every embarrassing second, that is, as long as it's not on YouTube.

Craig's Square Life-Wheels

2011-08-23T21:11:00.000-06:00

A bicycle on square wheels--on the correct surface, it's a perfectly smooth ride. (Note: It's Dr. Stan Wagon, Professor of Mathematics at Macalester College, on his bicycle.)

I'm thinking that my life is a bicycle with square wheels, but the riding surface isn't quite right.

The kids are happy, but the parents...not so much. And I don't know how to change it. One thing I know is that love is tough. Saying "I love you" isn't enough. Blogging about love isn't enough. Roses aren't enough. Taking care of kids isn't enough. Since I know what I've been doing for my love, I'm learning that it takes more.

More of what is the problem, that is, I can't seem to figure out the what.

None of what I've written makes much sense, does it?

Kinda the way I feel too.

This week was the first week of school, so the kids are now in only 2 schools--elementary and high school. It makes delivering kids to and from school much easier. Everyone seems to be happy with school so far.

I found a bunch of pictures from 2007 yesterday while I was looking for an old computer program that I'd written. Many were of Deborah and I when we first started dating, and I got to admit that I was smiling and laughing quite a bit looking through the pictures. It was before the fan got hit with sh*t though.

A little know bit of trivia. My name is David Paul Craig, and the names of the last three guys Deborah dated were Craig, Paul, and David. No reason for including that in the blog except that I remembered it yesterday and I thought it was cool.

I can't wait until it snows. I want to run in 3 or 4 inches of fresh snow and hear it crunch under my big shoes.

In the meantime, here's to a great week for all and a catenary surface for us.

Horse-Fly-Sized Ass

2011-08-17T11:49:00.001-06:00

I still need to run a marathon before May 14, 2012, to achieve my marathon-at-50 goal.

I wanted a special marathon--a marathon so spectacular that it would be worthy of marathon-at-50 pain.

Initially I was thinking about the Las Vegas Rock 'n' Roll Marathon that runs at night in December down the Las Vegas strip. That sounded fun...except for being surrounded by 30,000 other runners.

Then I thought about the Big Sur Marathon in California. For 3 weeks, I've been going to their website thinking about signing up for the race. I even talked to Deborah about it, but I just couldn't pull the trigger. I saw the race registration at 50% sold, 75% sold, 84% sold, and finally sold out. I think it was "California" that kept me from signing up for the race--not a big fan of the left coast.

So now I'm thinking about the Colorado Marathon on May 6 in Fort Collins. But, I'm still thinking and open to suggestions.

Fly Paper
I got tired of swatting flies while out on the porch swing, so I hung some fly paper. Deborah asked, "what is on fly paper?" I explained in my typical technical fashion that scientists had extracted female fly aromas that cause a sexual response in the male fly. The male is excited and lands on the fly paper. At that point he's stuck and dies.

Deborah said, "I've lived all my life and didn't know that."

Leather and Lace Or Acid and Ecstasy

Deborah and I attended the Stevie Nicks on August 9, 2011, at Red Rocks in Morrison, Colorado. It was a very good show, and since it was the first show on the new tour, Stevie's audience interaction was unrehearsed and spontaneous, which made us feel like we were out in her backyard...along with 9,000 of her closest friends.

We were sitting on row 5 towards stage right, and for most of the night, in front of Waddy Wachtel, Stevie's guitar player and music director. I kept waving and winking at Stevie, but I think because of the 9,000 other people, she was trying to ignore me. She did a good job.

But, at the end of the show after Edge of Seventeen, Waddy threw his guitar pick to Deborah, which I was able to retrieve from the Red Rocks concrete aisle. The pick is imprinted with "Waddy Wachtel - Stay 200 hundred feet back." I threw his room key back.

It was a typical concert experience at Red Rocks. You know, the climb up a mountain from South parking area BFE. Where are those damn Sherpas when we need them? Not to mention a cat fight between two drunk, high 20ish chicks on row 6 behind us. Who the hell gets drunk and fights at a Stevie Nicks concert for god's sake? Seriously. And of course, out of 9,000 people, we end up sitting next to the 50ish 6 foot tall single chick that wouldn't keep her hands off me. She kept grabbing my arm and screaming, "Oh my god! Oh my god!" I was beginning to think she had Katherine Heigl's vibrating panties, and at one point I leaned over to Deborah and said, "help me."

The picture is an accurate representation of this chick's brain. We were trying to figure out what she had swallowed. As Stevie sang Leather and Lace, I told Deborah that I thought it was acid and ecstasy. Sure enough I get home and Google "ecstasy" and it says, "Users say they experience feelings of closeness with others and a desire to touch others." Uh huh, yeah. Towards the end of the night, she looked like she was coming down, and her boyfriend embarrassingly walked her past us on the way out. We're betting he didn't hear "Oh my god" again that night.

And, bitch, those were some ugly glasses. (Paraphrased from Deborah's comments)

As we always do, Deborah and I had a great time together. It's always fun to be with the one you love whether in line at the DMV or sitting up front at a concert.

Fly Paper Con't.
Later after a few chuckles, I admitted to Deborah that I made up the part about extracting female fly aromas that cause a sexual response in the male fly. It must be a bitch living with me--hehe.

Of course Deborah has since let it be known that my horse-fly-sized ass will not be attracted or sticking to her aroma anytime in the immediate future either. Damn.

Get Some...Air

2011-08-08T12:07:00.000-06:00

So Deborah and I went last Sunday to pick up Miranda at Elitch Gardens theme park. It was about 3:00 pm and very HOT. As we walked, Deborah noticed a pair of panties on the sidewalk. First, I must clarify that they weren't Deborah's panties. I mean, Deborah's shirts have less material than those panties, and besides, Deborah wouldn't be caught dead in granny panties, that is, she'll live and die someday either au naturel or in a thong. If she found herself in granny panties buried for all eternity, she'd tunnel over to my grave and kick my big ass.

Anyway...

It was so hot...

"How hot was it?"

It was so hot that granny stripped off her drawers and headed for the water slide at Elitch's.

Think about that the next time ya go squealing down a water slide---weeeeeeeeee. Ewwwwww. Thank god for chlorine.

My Love, Odds 'N' Ends, And Kahunas

2011-07-25T12:40:00.000-06:00

My Beautiful Love of My Life

Look at that picture. Isn't she amazing? I can't tell you how old she is because if I did some doctor would have to reattach my kahunas, but isn't she beautiful? It's driving me nuts to tell you, so I'll write it in code. The love of my life, my wife Deborah, is

MMXI - MCMLXI - 0!

You would never know it looking at the picture would you. Another reason why I love Deborah.

(Anyone knowing the factorial of zero and finding my kahunas, please comment or send me an email so that I can have them reattached.)

Odds 'N' Ends

I sent a picture of Justin, Jarrod, and Lexie standing in Front of Bob Tasca's fuel funny car on Saturday to Deborah. I explained that we had to get a tire repaired, and the dealership just happened to have the funny car on display. Of course, Deborah knows me better than that and realized that I knew the car would be there, but I had to think of a reason to go see it. So Deborah replied by text that while looking for a plunger and toilet bowl cleaner at Jared's, she would send me pictures of herself with diamond anniversary rings.

Last Sunday, Lexie said she wanted to work out, so she grabbed some weights, some Powerade Zero, and her tutu and headed out to the sidewalk in front of the house. It was an impressive workout with dumbbell pumping while doing the splits.

Since Deborah was a competitive powerlifter, I asked Deborah to demonstrate proper splits technique while nude and pumping iron...

so...

anyone finding the rest of my kahunas around the neighborhood, please comment or email.

Joplin, Missouri

2011-07-15T11:44:00.000-06:00

Miranda (left) and her friend Rayne left for Joplin, Missouri at 6:00 am this morning. They are traveling with Thorncreek Church and volunteering to help those in Joplin that were devastated by the F5 tornado on May 22, 2011. The church has done an incredible job collecting furniture for the people of Joplin. American Furniture donated a tractor-trailer to haul furniture to Joplin, and the people in the Thorncreek community filled the trailer with slightly used furniture and appliances. When I dropped off our contribution yesterday, I was amazed. Amazed(!) at how much furniture had been collected.

This is Thorncreek Church members 2nd trip to Joplin to volunteer, and I strongly encourage readers to go to the Thorncreek Church website and watch the "Joplin Disaster Relief" video. Miranda, Deborah's daughter and my step-daughter, has been a regular attendee of Thorncreek's 320 Student Ministry high school meetings, and Miranda wanted very badly to go to Joplin. Since Miranda had never been away from her mom on a trip, it was hard for Deborah to see her go, but go she did.

I remembered back to my high school days and all the trips that I went on with Young Life and other north Texas church groups. The difference between mine and Miranda's trip is that all of my trips were about me--we went skiing every year and we went to summer camps to play--but Miranda's trip is different. As pastor Ruben Villarreal commented before they left for Joplin, "this trip is not about 'me.' Put 'me' aside."

As I stood watching the "kids" load up into the vans, it made me proud. Proud that Miranda, Rayne, and so many young teens can give up their lives for a week to help others. I agree with Ruben when he said that this trip will be "life changing" for the volunteers. It's already affected me, and I wasn't even going.

Ya Gotta Have Goals

2011-07-08T13:02:00.000-06:00

This is probably a better tweet than blog post, but yesterday as Deborah and I were going to shop at Dick's Sporting Goods, Deborah commented, "I want to be voted as having the best ass in the retirement home."

Life Goals -- yet another reason why I love Deborah!

Smart And Water; Mother's Day Promises; No Joy; We With Stevie

2011-06-27T17:47:00.000-06:00

It's hot!

Last week, I decided not to do my 6.5 mile run outside because of the heat. Instead, I returned to Life Time Fitness for a long treadmill run the night after my cross-train night. My cross-train night was brutal, and I'm fairly certain that I set my personal sweat record during the stair climb hour.

Since Deborah loves me, and she knew how wasted I was on Tuesday night, she told me to "buy some water and drink while I run on the treadmill."

I bought Smart Water.

I don't know why. As Deborah says, trailer-park water is good enough for her, but I have to buy the "Smart efn Water."

So...while I'm running, and drinking my smart water, I pull my iPhone off the console, it flips in the air, lands on the belt, and shoots to the row of treadmills behind me. There's no way to look cool when that happens. Maybe I needed to drink more Smart Water.

After the run, I head for the showers to get clean and shave my legs. YES, I shave my legs, and I have ever since I tried to get into triathlon. Anyway...I'm in the shower shaving, and all is well. Afterwards I pick up the kids, and on the way home I realized that I had shaved my right leg, but forgot to do the left!

Smart Water anyone?

_____________________

Deborah's back on her feet again (kinda), and she took her trail bike out for a ride. For Mother's Day she "received" the purple Saris Bones 3 bike rack for the back of the Escape. Actually, it was more of a promise to receive a purple Saris Bones 3 bike rack, but I didn't make that part as clear as it probably needed to be. Fortunately, the bike rack arrived before Father's Day.

Father's Day is the day when I received promises to receive...

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Lexie was lying in bed with Deborah and I, and as usual, Deborah and I started kissing and cuddling. When Lexie couldn't get all the attention she desired, she exclaimed, "Cut out all the joy (you two)!"
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Deborah loves Stevie Nicks, so...

I've been going to Stevie's website every other day to see when she might be touring. The second tickets went on sale, I was on my iPhone trying to buy tickets through TicketMaster. Here's what I gave Deborah.

Click to enlarge.

We are on Row 5. I told Deborah, "This is so cool. Stevie will be able to see us."

A Cow And Some Butt

2011-06-18T21:38:00.000-06:00

Our family drinks, on average, seven gallons of milk per week. Seven gallons.

We have 3 gallons of milk delivered on Tuesday, and by Friday, I'm buying milk at the grocery store. More than once I've teased Deborah that we just need to put a milk cow out back.

After dropping the kids at summer camp on Wednesday morning, I was driving up the street to our house when I notice a young cow trotting past the front of the house. Just in the middle of the road, lazily trotting past our house. I'm thinking, "Did Deborah buy a cow online?," and then I thought "nah, it must be a scout locating the big users."

I didn't have my camera with me, and I wasn't quick enough with my phone, so I didn't get a picture. Which I know means that it didn't happen...but I swear there was a cow in front of our house on Wednesday morning. I'm from Texas. I've been called Bubba all my life. I've herded cattle. I know a cow when I see one.

I mowed the front yard today, so I also know that if the scout was trying to leave a message, I didn't step in it.

_________________

I always want to keep life interesting, so on Thursday I googled "female butt anatomy." I was looking for a new way to compliment Deborah. I came up with a text message that ended, "p.s. I love your gluteal sulcus."

As expected, her response was, "huh?" Later, while sitting on the porch swing with Deborah, I showed her the wiki page with a picture of a generic female gluteal sulcus. She grabbed my phone and continued with the section on "intergluteal cleft."

And lots of other pages with pictures of male glutes.

Before the night was over, half of our household was pulling up/down their shorts to show mom their butt and have their gluteal sulcus identified.

Like I always say, "Carpe ~~diem~~ bootay."

2:40:09! I'm A Finisher Again!

2011-06-12T23:11:00.002-06:00

Graphic Language Warning

I was torn this morning. On the one hand, I had trained adequately to finish; I had completed acclimatization runs in Estes Park; I had eaten good and rested pre-race; I had sucked down Imodium and Advil; and I had plenty of gels to run. On the other hand, my mind wasn't right. Deborah was sick and asked to be taken back down to Denver, so I wouldn't have my sexy athletic supporter. ;-) She also wasn't very happy with me, so that was on my mind. And I did have doubts about completing a race.

The last time I finished a race was in 2007. My 2008 Melbourne Marathon attempt resulted in a DNF after 30 km. Since that time I entered the Cowtown Marathon and the 2010 Estes Park Half Marathon, but each time, I was injured during training. This time I was healthy, but I had a very hard time completing my long runs--the mental aspect of getting out and running was hard, but the runs were OK. In any case, I hadn't completed a race in 3 years, and once I DNF'ed in Melbourne, it made it very easy to opt out of a race.

Regardless, this morning, I lined up with the other half-marathoners and readied for the start. I knew one other runner, Maddie, who is a counselor at the summer camp that Justin and Jarrod are attending. She's only 25 years old and had three 16 mile runs under her belt over the last month. I knew I couldn't run with Maddie, but at least I knew someone.

The starting line was adjacent, as in right next to, the line of porta-potties that were busy as usual pre-race. I've never wanted a race to start so much. Not because I was ready to run, but because each breath made me grimace.

With little fanfare, the lead runners took off, and the race was on. I started my watch and began my waddle at the back of the pack. My goal was to run a 11:30 first mile because I absolutely didn't want to go out too fast. As we cruised along, I noticed my labored breathing, and I thought WTF? At about 1.4 miles, I looked down at my watch, and I was running a 10:00 pace, which is way too fast, but even worse I realized that my watch did not start when I thought I clicked it at the starting line.

So now, I'm breathing hard and pissed off that I made a rookie mistake. At this point, I said, "fuck it, I'm turning around and going back to the truck. I'll tell Deborah that I didn't feel good." As I'm thinking this, I kept running until we crossed highway 36, where Colorado state troopers had stopped vacationer traffic. I wasn't going to stop there, so I convinced myself to slow down and see if the run got better.

It didn't.

At three miles, I sucked down a gel and wanted to puke. I couldn't breathe; I couldn't run; and now my stomach was bothering me. So I'm thinking, "why the fuck are you out here doing this to yourself? No one cares if I run this, and at this point, I don't give a damn about finishing this thing. I'll rip off this number and walk back."

I kept going. I needed a Sherpa. Bad.

In 2007, when I ran my first marathon in Steamboat Springs, Carrie showed up and inspired me to keep moving and finish. It was frickin ugly, but I completed the marathon in 5:19 or thereabouts. I needed a Sherpa now.

About that time, between miles 4 and 5, a lady started running next to me and we carried on a conversation for awhile. It was a pretty one-sided conversation with her talking and me grunting answers as best I could, but she was so upbeat and having so much fun that I just said, "Fuck it. I don't care if I walk this half marathon, I'm going to finish. I am not a quitter. Melbourne was an anomaly, and I will finish this half marathon."

So I kept moving. Running mostly with some short walking intervals at aid stations or uphill sections. My old running technique was to find a female butt I liked, and I would try to stay behind it. I didn't really have that option for this race, so I decided I would pass that guy in grey. And after him, I would pass someone else. And I would keep going.

At 6 miles, I decided to run to 8 miles without any walking breaks. I never walked another step the rest of the half marathon. From 6 miles through 13.1 miles, I kept a slow steady pace in the upper 11 minute range with some 12 minute miles sprinkled in.

I finished to Estes Park Half Marathon in 2:40:09 to applause from a small crowd and with a huge smile on my face. I was/am not a quitter. At 50 years old an 260 lbs, I ran a half marathon at a starting and ending elevation of 7,522 ft. In the end, I was about 10 minutes slower than I hoped, but I fought through the mental and physical aspects of running, and I'm a finisher again.

Update June 14, 2011

Not that this matters to anyone but me...

I finished number 8 out of 11 in my age division (50-59), and they didn't have a clydesdale division. Overall, I finished number 182 out of 248. The average finishing time was 2:26:34, so I finished at a below average pace, which I already knew without the fancy digital timing stuff.

Although I didn't start my watch at the beginning, my known average pace per mile is as follows.

Mile 1 - n/a

Mile 2 - 12:56 (partial mile)

Mile 3 - 12:10

Mile 4 - 12:12

Mile 5 - 12:55

Mile 6 - 13:45

Mile 7 - 12:40

Mile 8 - 10:49

Mile 9 - 12:12

Mile 10 - 11:20

Mile 11 - 11:48

Mile 12 - 12:01

Mile 13 - 12:23

Mile 13.1 - 11:40

Week 8 - Hi-Ho!!!! Hi-Ho!!!!

2011-06-06T16:14:00.000-06:00

Hi-ho, hi-ho. It's off to Estes Park we go...

We're heading for the mountains. Gonna get comfy in the house. Check out the hot tub. And run 6 miles.

Yeah, we're leaving early enough that I will get in 1, 2, or 3 acclimatization runs. Since PEDs are out of the question, acclimatization seems like the best idea for ~~getting a PR~~ ~~improving performance~~ finishing the 1/2 marathon. That's right. After realizing that reality is really staring me in the face, I no longer have ridiculous goals to fail and explain later. I just want to finish the 1/2 marathon and have fun.

I'll think of Deborah's boobs ;-) and run until I'm done. (Ya know this was Deborah's idea at the 2007 St. George marathon, and I ran a blazing 4:14:23. Them some really good boobs.)

Four years ago, it was so much different. First off, running didn't hurt as much. In the last four years, I've seen my healing processes slowed, which means I can't recover from hard workouts as fast.

Secondly, and more importantly, running has lost a little fun. In the old days, I followed Bold, Stronger, AJ, and several other bloggers with either running or triathlon posts. I miss them all (except Carrie, cause I still read your posts every day). The group of bloggers kept me motivated, and without question, helped me complete my first 1/2 marathon (2007 Horseshoe Half) and marathon (2007 Steamboat Marathon - Ugh). It was fun to follow others, which in turn pushed me to keep going.

I could find new running bloggers, but I don't want to. I miss you guys' words. But...Change is inevitable. The world is dynamic. People are dynamic, and I'm a damn different DrBubba now compared to 2007. In the words of a forum poster at 14er.com, "I'm fat and I'm slow and those are my good qualities." Pretty funny, but I hope Deborah doesn't agree too often.

Onwards to Estes Park.

I'll be live-blogging the run cause as slow as I'll be running, carrying an iphone and blogging shouldn't be a problem. Just kidding.

This week I completed the following.

Monday - 9.00 mile run
Tuesday - Cross-train - stairs & weights
Wednesday - Rest
Thursday - 5.5 mile run
Friday - Cross-train - stairs & weights
Saturday - Rest
Sunday - Rest

Week 7 - Don't Be Eatin My Grilled Cheese

2011-05-31T13:52:00.000-06:00

Miranda is my 15 year old stepdaughter, and she has been trying to teach me the new lingo. For example, "hell to the yeah" means really good or really hot, and "ultimate fail" means something really bad. She also explained "don't get up in my grill," which I think means don't get in my face.

Well, the next day, I was struggling to remember my teen cool lingo, and somehow "don't get up in my grill" morphed into "don't be eatin my grilled cheese." Miranda now believes that I'm terminally uncool, and she doesn't want me talking to her friends. DrBubba, ultimate fail.

It was a pretty good week. As I noted last week, I ran 8.03 miles on Monday, and I didn't do another long run until Memorial Day. Instead of the Bolder Boulder, I ran 9 miles on Memorial Day. The 9 mile run was much tougher on me than it should have been, but I think I'm ready for Estes Park.

This week I completed the following.

Monday - 8.03 mile run
Tuesday - Cross-train - stairs & weight training
Wednesday - Rest
Thursday - 4.34 mile run
Friday - Cross-train - stairs & weight training
Saturday - Rest
Sunday - Rest

The chart from my Memorial Day 9 miler is shown below. My Estes Park 1/2 marathon is less than 2 weeks away. Hell to the yeah.

Week 6 - "Don't Skip The Long Runs"

2011-05-23T16:39:00.000-06:00

When I was starting to train for marathons in 2007, I read quite a few running books along with Colorado Runner and Runner's World magazines. The quote that stuck with me, and I can't remember the source, was "whatever you do, don't skip the long runs." As I noted last week, during my weekend 50th birthday celebration, I "canned" the scheduled 10 mile long run. I conveniently ignored my mind telling me, "don't skip the long runs."

This week, I completed an easy 5 mile run on Monday and a cross-train workout on Tuesday, but Wednesday, I started feeling sick. Thinking that a day off might help, I skipped Wednesday's run, and I got really sick Thursday and Friday. Because I didn't feel tip top, I canned the scheduled 10 mile long run on Saturday and then again on Sunday. Yesterday, I really regretted not getting last week's long run in when I felt young and strong on my 50th birthday.

With the Estes Park 1/2-marathon only 3 weeks away, I decided last night that I would deliver the kids to school and try to run between 6 and 10 miles this morning. If anything, the long run would help get the yuk out of my chest from the illness.

I can now happily report that I completed a good 8.03 mile run this morning, and after changing the training plan slightly, I'm on track for a good 1/2-marathon next month.

This week I completed the following.

Monday - 5.14 mile run
Tuesday - Cross-train - stairs & weight training
Wednesday - Rest
Thursday - Sick
Friday - Sick
Saturday - Recovering from sick
Sunday - More Recovery

Not a stellar week, but I'm displaying today's chart to show all is OK.

Week 5 - Losing It

2011-05-16T21:12:00.000-06:00

Losing It

The dancer slows her frantic pace

In pain and desperation,

Her aching limbs and downcast face

Aglow with perspiration

Stiff as wire, her lungs on fire,

With just the briefest pause

The flooding through her memory,

The echoes of old applause.

She limps across the floor

And closes her bedroom door...

The writer stares with glassy eyes

Defies the empty page

His beard is white, his face is lined

And streaked with tears of rage.

Thirty years ago, how the words would flow

With passion and precision,

But now his mind is dark and dulled

By sickness and indecision

And he stares out the kitchen door

Where the sun will rise no more...

Some are born to move the world

To live their fantasies

But most of us just dream about

The things we'd like to be

Sadder still to watch it die

Than never to have known it

For you, the blind who once could see

The bell tolls for thee...

--Neal Peart (Rush)

I've never been one to appreciate lyrics. Sometimes, I can hear the lyrics and sing along, but I almost never feel the lyrics. "Losing It" was written and performed by the Canadian progressive rock band Rush in 1982 on the Signals album. And yes I had the album (as opposed to CD).

As the years have passed, I never forgot the lyrics, that is, the lyrics were always in the back of my mind. This past Saturday, May 14, 2011, I turned 50 years old, and now I really feel the lyrics.

There was a time, less than a decade ago, when I truly was one of the world's best at what I do. I was developing leading edge technologies, and I stood before audiences of tens to hundreds enlightening them. And they applauded.

It's not sad to turn 50. It's really not. But, it is sad to see and feel ability slowly fade away. That I feel every day when I start to pick up a pencil or program something "new." I agree with Neal in that it's "sadder still to watch it die than never to have known it." In other words, there is still applause, but it's only polite applause, and sometimes I think it's applause for what I did as opposed to what I'm now doing.

Enough of that old shit. Yesterday, I realized that now I'm a Grand Master.

No, that's not what Deborah calls me after a night out.

I'm officially a clydesdale Grand Master, which means that when I run the half marathon in Estes Park on June 12, I'll be in the 50-59 age group. Not that it really makes any difference, but I will be wearing a t-shirt with the following on front...

and on the back...

This week I completed the following...

Monday - 4.54 mile run
Tuesday - Cross train - Stair climber & weights
Wednesday - Rain and rest
Thursday - Rain 6.52 mile treadmill run
Friday - Rest
Saturday - Turned 50 and celebrated with Deborah
Sunday - Turned 50 Saturday and celebrated with family

No chart this week because I canned my first 50 year old long run. Next week, I'll post a 50 year old clydesdale 10 mile run chart.

Week 4 - Happy Mother's Day Deborah

2011-05-09T09:44:00.000-06:00

All running and working out is way secondary to celebrating Deborah on Mother's Day. We had all the kids over with a big feast and presents for Deborah, which I think she liked. Unfortunately, the male stripper canceled at the last minute, so I had to substitute a fresh big green cucumber that I bought at King Sooper's for a phallic tease. Dancing to Love Rollercoaster with a packed thong/jock strap is just not my forte.

Deborah received a necklace, bracelet, and sweet smelling lotions from the girls, and all of us gave her a bike rack for her new Ford Escape and chocolate. I gave her a 24K gold-dipped and a platinum-dipped Forever Rose. Very nice.

So on with Week 4 training...

First, I officially registered for the Estes Park half-marathon on 12 JUNE 2011. Yea!

This week the weather was nice, and I had a very good training week. I completed the following.

Monday - 4.56 mile run
Tuesday - Cross train - Stair climber & weights
Wednesday - 6.01 mile run
Thursday - Rest
Friday - Cross train - Stair climber & weights
Saturday - 8.16 mile run in 1:32:28

Saturday's long run was fantastic. Not that it was easy, but rather it was fantastic that I got my ass up and completed the run along my most difficult training course. The chart below shows the "big" hill that I have to climb, and I made it up the puppy, sucked down a gel, and cruised back home. Without an emergency potty break I might add. Yea, again.

For the first time since I started training for Estes Park, I feel confident that I'll be ready on 12 JUN.

Week 3 - Snow -> Hot -> Cold

2011-05-01T16:40:00.001-06:00

It wasn't the best week of training. I had to fly to Houston for a technical conference, which I enjoyed very much, but traveling and a heavy work schedule makes it difficult to train. I did manage to run in Houston on Wednesday evening. It was only 90°F! So it was snow last Saturday to 90°F on Wednesday and cold with snow flurries on Saturday.

Saturday's long run was OK, except for a required potty break at 6 miles. It was a rare instance when I didn't think I could make it the final mile or so with a half mile uphill run at the end, so I heeded the call of nature. I bet the prairie dogs are pissed.

Anyway...

This week I did the following.

Monday - Typing
Tuesday - Typing
Wednesday - 3.6 mile run 90°F in Houston, TX
Thursday - Presenting and flying
Friday - Cross train - Stair climber & weights
Saturday - 7.13 miles

The UGLY chart with potty break is shown below.

Week 2 - It Friggin Snowed

2011-04-23T18:53:00.000-06:00

This week Justin didn't want to ride his bike as I ran, but Jarrod was up for it. Everything started well until we got to about 3 miles out when Jarrod said, "Daddy, it's snowing." After the turn around, it started snowing even harder. Much harder. And Jarrod is riding behind me hoping I can block some of the wind.

After a few more minutes, I hear Jarrod starting to whimper and stating, "Daddy, I'm cold." So, while continuing to run, I stripped off my long sleeve shirt and threw it to Jarrod. At least with my shirt he warmed a little while we finished the run. This was one time when I probably shouldn't have taken Jarrod along, but really, who was expecting snow in late April? Other than those people on the trail in winter gear.

One guy past me and said, "Great job." I'd like to believe he saw my big ass and was offering encouragement. On the other hand, he was probably being sarcastic because I was running so slow.

This week I did the following.

Monday - Ran 4.54 miles
Tuesday - Cross train 42 minutes Stair climber and weights
Wednesday - Rest
Thursday - Ran 4.55 miles
Friday - Cross train 45 minutes stair climber and weights
Saturday - Ran 6.31 miles in 1:11:27 (11:19/mile) - Chart below.

Week 1 - On Schedule

2011-04-16T21:00:00.000-06:00

I made it through the first full week of 1/2 marathon training. I managed the following.

Monday: Run 4.03 miles
Tuesday: Cross train - Stairs 42 min & Weights
Wednesday: Rest
Thursday: Run 4.17 miles
Friday: Cross train - Stairs 42 min & Weights
Saturday: "Long" Run 5.10 miles

Saturday's chart is shown below. Justin and Jarrod rode along with me on their bikes. Justin wasn't too thrilled with the ride, but Jarrod said he would go along again next Saturday for 6 miles. Everything is a little sore, and I weigh too much, but overall, I feel pretty good preparing for my first 50+ year old distance "race".

My Melted M&Ms & Therapy

2011-04-11T09:41:00.000-06:00

Deborah's birthday was last Tuesday. She got gifts, dance music, and a mirror ball.

I carefully plan Deborah's gifts every birthday, Valentine's day, Mother's day, and Christmas. A couple of weeks before her birthday, we were going through old clothes, and she found her pair of blue M&M boxer shorts. She held them close and said even though they had a hole in the butt, she was not getting rid of them. I took that as a hint to get her a new pair of M&M boxer shorts, so I bought the following...

A few nights after her birthday on a particularly warm evening, Deborah, while wearing her Peanut M&M boxers, and I were sitting in bed reading when Deborah said, "if it gets any hotter between my legs, I'm going to melt my M&Ms.

Therapy

Deborah and I decided awhile back that Justin and Jarrod need a little therapy to adjust to our blended family, so we found an excellent child psychologist to talk to the boys. Last Friday was the first session the doctor would actually meet and talk to the boys. So, I took them in and we started playing in the sandbox with the doctor. He asked what happened at home this week, and the boys said Deborah had a birthday. So the good doctor asked what they got for mom's birthday, and Justin loudly explained that, "we went to Victoria's Secret and got mom a thong and t-shirt."

I'm not sure how to describe the look the doctor gave me...

...enlightenment?, a breakthrough?...

I could only cough up, "yeah, but it was a conservative thong." It was downhill from there.

First 2011 Outdoor Run

2011-04-07T17:21:00.000-06:00

I'm sure the treadmill missed me, but today, April 07, 2011, I ran outdoors. My last outdoor run was May 18, 2010--almost a year ago.

Today, I ran 3.7 miles in 42:01:17.

I know what you're thinking. All that blazing speed will scare the wildlife, that is, a prarie dog might waddle in front of me and get squished. It could happen. But it didn't. Never does. They just stare at me knowing why dirt is falling from their ceiling.

Here's a chart.

Ballyhoo!

2011-04-07T11:11:00.000-06:00

A mantra. That's what I need.

All the running and working out for years, and I've never really had a mantra.

Everyman's triathlete, Roman Mica, says I need a mantra. Now Kara Goucher in the new Runner's World Mag says I need a mantra.

I was having a real hard time with the mantra thing. I wanted something that helped me through the tough runs and workouts, but something that was distinctly me.

Deborah and I were watching Good Will Hunting recently, and we always laugh at the scene where the first psychologist played by George Plimpton says, "...No more tom foolery. No more ballyhoo." For days after the movie we teased each other about "No more ballyhoo" until it took on a sexual connotation. "Mmmmm, feel like some ballyhoo?"

Now that the kids are getting older and understanding more, a good "new" word, or use of a word, like ballyhoo, can leave them in the dark for awhile longer, which is always good.

So, after much thought, my mantra has become, "Butt. Gut. Ballyhoo!" Butt means all the working out keeps my butt tight. Gut means all the working out keeps my gut minimized. And, Ballyhoo means that if I keep a firm butt and modest gut, Deborah and I get to ballyhoo. A lot.

"Butt. Gut. Ballyhoo!" (When you say it, the "hoo" has to be emphasized, like "Butt. Gut. Bally Whoooooooooooooooo!")

So, if you're in Estes Park on June 12 and running the Estes Park half marathon, and if you're running past a big guy chanting, "Butt. Gut. Ballyhooooooo," chances are it's me, DrBubba.

Racing for ballyhoo with Deborah! A lot!

It Sucks!

2011-04-02T10:22:00.000-06:00

I (we) are the proud owners of my grandmother's Kirby Sanitronic Model 562, which was first built in 1962 and means that my vacuum cleaner is older than my wife. But it still sucks.

The vacuum cleaner, that is, still sucks. Anyway...

In September, my best man was at the house and saw Kirby 562, and commented that I was just like him holding on to a friendly vacuum and refusing to upgrade to something new. Uncle Tom told me that his wife, Jennifer, insisted on a new vacuum cleaner, so they upgraded to a new Dyson. Tom said you could actually see the carpet fibers being ripped from the floor and sucked into the Dyson when they started using it.

After thinking about how often Deborah's been sick, we realized that maybe, just maybe, the Kirby 562 wasn't sucking enough. So, we excitedly added an Electrolux Nimble vacuum to our family. It's almost like getting a new puppy.

Except it doesn't pee on the floor.

Four Sherpas

2011-03-23T19:48:00.004-06:00

A few Sundays back, Deborah and I laid on the floor watching TV and generally trying not to move. It was our chance to be ONE together.

Of course there's always an occasional, "Stop it right now!," mixed in and directed at the kids.

Anyway, we watch 5 episodes of "Everest - Beyond the Limit" and one episode of "Disaster on K2" or something like that. It started a whole mountaineering fascination around our house.

First and foremost, we both agreed that if we see Everest and/or K2 at 28 or 29,000 feet, we will be in an airplane. Call us wimps, but "dying to get there" is only an expression in this household.

Reading about high-altitude mountaineering on the other hand is absolutely allowed. So I read Into Thin Air, No Way Down, and One Mountain Thousand Summits. Deborah had already read Into Thin Air, but she did buy and read Touching The Void and Regions of the Heart. Deborah is a prolific reader. At any one time, she is reading 4 or 5 works of nonfiction, and our house is a regular stop for UPS to deliver books from Amazon.com. But I digress...

Today, Deborah's watching a show about a couple that managed to get off a trail and lost in the wilderness for 4 days before being rescued, and we started talking about our goal of climbing a 14er. I assured Deborah that we won't get lost on the trail and we will be safe.

She said, "Damn right we won't. We're going to have 4 sherpas carrying maps, cell phones, gps devices, homing beacons, gallons of water, food, medicine, cameras, and Charmin Ultra Soft toilet paper."

Princess, work?

2011-03-12T10:14:00.007-07:00

An interesting start to 2011...

I was supposed to do a post about my running and climbing plans in 2011 since this is the year that I turn 50...

But as we welcomed the new year, I became sick. After about a week of fever in January, I decided that I needed to get up and move around to get better. The next day, I was in the hospital with an atypical pneumonia. I've never been that sick in my life. I've considered myself a runner for years now, and not being able to breathe was a new and frightening feeling. It took awhile, but by February I was getting better, and in mid-February, I was able to begin easy, like 10 minute, cardio workouts. In March, I was able to begin running slowly on a treadmill. I still haven't ventured out onto the roads or trails, but I am slowly ramping up the running and I will be running at least a couple of "races" this year.

Deborah had also been sick basically since the wedding--one sinus infection after another. Multiple doctors had looked at her, and multiple doctors had prescribed multiple antibiotics. January through February she didn't really get better. Just when we thought she was getting better in March, Deborah had another relapse. We're going to yet another doctor to see if we can learn what's going on. Deborah and I have a number of activities planned in 2011--working out, climbing, sex, etc.--so we both need our health.

Through all of the adult illness, the kids were rock solid. Never a cough, hiccup, broken limb, or anything. For that, Deborah and I are extremely thankful. Extremely!

During 2010, we decided that Deborah needed a new car. The old 2000 Neon with 104,000 miles, and breathtakingly attractive hail damage, was nearing the end of its useful days. Every time I got in the car, the Neon would groan. At the end of February, it was time to car shop, and Deborah picked a 2011 Ford Escape.

Deborah's been so sick that I bet she hasn't put 100 miles on her "escape" since we bought it. It does look good in the garage though, and she has been able to talk to it a few times. The car has the SYNC system, so most of the features are voice activated. Unlike kids, it's fun to talk to a car and have it respond. I talk till I'm blue to the kids, but the response is never quite what I intended. Does that change at some point?

After we had purchased Deborah's "escape" from the dealer, I picked up Lexie, Justin, and Jarrod, and we drove home in the "old" Expedition while mom cruised in her escape. One of the boys asked how much the car cost, and I explained that it was expensive, so now I had to go back to work to earn money for their college education.

Lexie said, "But I don't want to go to college."

I replied, "Lexie, you mean that you don't want to go to college to become a doctor like Dr. G on TV." (Note: Dr. G is a medical examiner with a reality show that explains autopsies and the search for a cause of death. It might seem kind of a weird show to watch, but it is very interesting and Lexie likes it.)

Lexie thought about it for a minute and said, "Where does a princess go to learn how not to work?"

Questions For My Dad

2010-12-04T18:16:00.002-07:00

My dad died October 1, 2006.

I often think about him, but recently, I've wanted to talk to him, ask him a few questions, and listen to his comments.

A few weeks ago I finished Ayn Rand's "Atlas Shrugged", and it occurred to me as a read that her philosophy, objectivism, encompasses the ideas and beliefs my dad passed along to me. I know my father read many books, but I'm curious if he ever read "Atlas Shrugged." I do know that he didn't have a copy on his bookshelves when he died, but I'm thinking he must have read the book.

It makes me feel closer to my dad having read the book. So much so, that I now have started "The Fountainhead," which is another of Rand's novels.

A Wine Club - Caduceus Cellars

2010-12-04T17:36:00.002-07:00

During my recent trips to Italy, I watched the documentary "Blood Into Wine" on the plane, and I tasted 30 or 40 Tuscan wines. My favorite wine during the trip was Torciano Bartolomeo, which is a sangiovese and cabernet sauvignon blend.

After returning from my first trip to Tuscany, I joined the Velvet Slippers Club at Caduceus Cellars, which is home to a relatively new winemaker, Maynard James Keenan. Maynard's also known as a singer/songwriter/co-founder of tool, A Perfect Circle, and Puscifer.

Since joining the club, I've received the fall and winter wine shipments, and for my first Caduceus wine to taste, I selected the Nagual de la NAGA - 2008, which is a California sangiovese and cabernet blend. Admittedly, I'm only an ignorant consumer, and my knowledge of wine comes from the film "Sideways" and the documentary "Blood Into Wine", but I thought the NAGA was very good. The Torciano Bartolomeo remains my favorite, but I also received a bottle of Caduceus Nagual de la NAGA - 2007 that I can't wait to taste.

Turkey Trot X 5

2010-11-25T23:06:00.004-07:00

I'm really kind of proud of this. Today marked the 5th Thanksgiving in a row that I have completed my own personal turkey trot before Thanksgiving dinner.

I told Lexie last night that we would have to go to Life Time Fitness this morning because I still can't run (see It's Broke). After the doctor gave the Ok, I started out on an elliptical machine, and last week I began combining a stair climber with the elliptical machine.

When I was up and saw Lexie this morning, she asked when we were leaving for the trot, and I told her I didn't think we were going to go. I was trying to wimp out, but Lexie, at 6 years old, reminded me how important it was for me to keep the streak alive. I said, "Lexie, you're right," and off we went for Life Time Fitness.

For my personal turkey trot today, I complete 45 minutes on the stair climber and walked 0.5 miles. The picture below is after 45 minutes on the stair climber. I sweat profusely when I exercise, which means the looks I get in the gym aren't the "he's hot" kind of looks. More like the "is he Ok" kind of looks, or the common "ewww" look. Deborah loves me, but she still falls into the "ewww" look category.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Pictures From Italy

2010-11-23T19:36:00.009-07:00

Don't have too high of expectations, but here are my pictures from Italy.

Grapes right before harvest in the Chianti region. I never tasted a wine grape before, but I picked one off the vine, and it was incredibly good. Very sweet.

The bishop's church in Arezzo. Most of the tours involve looking at churches. Usually, I would say "boring," but it wasn't. The construction of the churches was fascinating--start, stop, fight a war, start, stop, fight a war, start. And the artist (forgot the name) painted the ceiling, which is at least 60 feet in the air. I feel confident that scaffolding in 1300 was not as good as it is in 2010. And the stain glass windows were amazing. I also learned it's really hard to take pictures of stain glass windows with bright sunlight outside.

View of a cemetery from Cortona. Those are olive trees in the foreground. The olive harvest was underway, and many of the roads up to Cortona had harvesters placing nets under trees and shaking the tree to allow the olives to fall onto the net. It reminded me of harvesting pecans when I was a young teenager--my grandfather put down a net and made me climb my young ass up the tree and jump on the branches (when your grandfather says climb a 100 year old pecan tree and jump on branches, you do it, but it's probably why I'm so scared of heights now).

Here is a picture of the town of San Gimignano, and it's famous towers (grapevines in the foreground). The personal tour guide explained that the richest, most powerful men built the biggest towers. As if I couldn't figure that out. It was either that or the dude with the biggest...

...and speaking of David, here's the replica. The detail is amazing--Michelangelo must have studied the male...er...parts...for hours, days, weeks, and months. Modeling for Michelangelo was good work if you could get it during the Renaissance.

And finally, the hotel band on Saturday before departing. They didn't take requests.

Like I said, don't expect many good pictures from a lonely honeymooner, but we did go to Tuscany, and I did tour a little while Deborah was miserably sick in the suite watching Italian television.

DNF - The Honeymoon X 3

2010-11-22T07:47:00.006-07:00

In 2009, I wrote about what was supposed to be our honeymoon in Australia. Deborah and I didn't actually get married before the trip, so it probably shouldn't count. But...

We did get married on September 12, 2010, and our wedding was beautiful--the site, the weather, the guests, Deborah--it was beyond everything that I had hoped for.

Except...

Deborah was sick before, during, and after the wedding, so that was a huge bummer.

Deborah and I spent a couple of days in Estes Park before returning to Denver, and when we returned to Denver after the wedding, my mother accused me of abusing Justin and Jarrod because we use behavior charts to show our expectations for the kids. The chart has stuff like "Say "please" and "thank you"" and "Wash hands after going to the bathroom and before meals." I looked at her like she was nuts, I mean, how can writing down expectations be abusive? No matter how I look at it, she's nuts. I thought it was a great way to help the boys practice the behaviors we teach. As a result of her accusations, I put her on a plane back to Texas, which was also a huge bummer.

We had a nanny lined up for our "dream" honeymoon in Tuscany. The first few days of the trip, I was scheduled to present a technical paper in Florence and then we had about 10 days to tour Tuscany. Travel is a pain in the ass for most, and we are no exception. Deborah hates to fly, and sitting on a plane for hours hurts her back. Plus, Deborah was sick.

We left a few minutes late for the airport and arrived about 45 minutes before departure, but we had checked in online. The United representative said that they couldn't check the bags without calling the gate (tick-tock, tick-tock), so she called the gate (tick-tock, tick-tock). About 30 minutes before departure, the gate said check the bags and we were allowed to head for security. We made it through a very short line, and they selected me to go through the new "full-body scan" machines. I had a broken leg and a boot on, but the TSA agent assured me the "full-body scan" would be faster (tick-tock, tick-tock).

So, I waited forever for the full-body scan machine, and after the TSA got an incredible view of my testicles, they pulled me aside for further screening (tick-tock, tick-tock). I told the TSA agents that my testicles were loaded because my new wife had been sick, but it didn't seem to matter to them.

The TSA agent said that I would have to remove my boot from my broken leg for an additional scan (tick-tock, tick-tock). After I told them they had to be kidding, he called a supervisor.

Note: The TSA deserves another post, but for now I'll note that the TSA is a government agency working for United States citizens. Neither my wife, nor our kids, should have to expose genitalia to a high school graduate to get on a plane. Instead of anal and vaginal inspection at the hands of government bureaucrats, I choose not to fly unless it's an emergency. When the airlines and people wake up, the TSA nonsense will cease.

Anyway, I removed the boot, and the TSA scanned until their little brains were satisfied that I wasn't a threat (tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock). Deborah and I ran for the train, and arrived at the gate to see that the door was closed. We missed our flight to Chicago and our connection to Zurich.

We had a seat at the gate and began to catch our breath. I began trying to find a flight to Chicago that would still allow us to get on the SWISS flight to Zurich. I called SWISS, and they could not get us another seat to Zurich for 2 days. I told them to forget Chicago. We would connect out of any US city--San Francisco, Chicago, Boston--anywhere. SWISS reservation agents were very helpful, but they can't do anything other than reserve seats. In other words, they can't tell a caller how much it costs. That has to be done by the SWISS fare office. So, I made tentative reservations for the Monday flight to Zurich while I tried to work on alternatives. What I didn't know was that SWISS puts a block on the reservation until the fare office arrives at a fare difference to charge.

Deborah and I were hanging at the airport trying to get SWISS to help us with alternative reservations. Hours pass with me calling SWISS every hour. Finally, a reservation agent tells me that there is nothing they can do until the fare office releases the itinerary. Deborah and I headed for an airport hotel for her to rest and me to work on a flight. About 6 hours after the missed connection began, and with me calling SWISS every 30 minutes to 1 hour, a SWISS reservation agent told me that the fare office was closed and we would have to wait until Sunday morning.

Deborah couldn't sleep at the airport hotel because of me. Apparently, I was snoring, and she couldn't sleep. On Sunday morning, I went for breakfast for both of us, and when I returned, Deborah announced that she was not getting on a plane. She told me to go. A honeymoon alone? It cost about $3,000 to cancel the tours for the 2nd honeymoon--the tour agency has a very strict cancellation policy, which is, basically, don't cancel.

I drove Deborah home, and began working on a flight from Denver to Florence so that I could present my technical paper and return home. On Sunday, I returned to the airport alone. I parked in the garage, walked to the elevator, and became stuck in an elevator with two men catching flights to New York. I had to use the elevator emergency button to get someone to come help us. After about 20 minutes in an elevator, we were rescued, and I went back through a TSA genitalia inspection and flew to Italy alone to present my paper.

When I returned from Italy, I began planning the rescheduled honeymoon. I worked with Deborah and we found a convenient time, an alternative set of tours that would allow her to experience Tuscany, a suite with two rooms so she would not be kept awake by me, an amazing nanny to care for the kids, and rebooked SWISS tickets to Florence for only $6,000 in fare difference and fees.

We left for Tuscany on Halloween eve. The flight to Chicago sucked because United ran out of ham sandwiches, and we really wanted a 1st-class ham sandwich. The SWISS flights to Zurich and Florence were outstanding--the food during the flight to Zurich was exceptional. After arriving in Florence, we had scheduled 1-1/2 days of nothing to recover from the flight. We managed to eat a couple of meals at modest restaurants, but nothing good.

On Tuesday morning we had the first tour scheduled. It was a visit to Arezzo and Cortona, where "Under the Tuscan Sun" was filmed. It was Deborah's dream to visit Tuscany and see where the movie was filmed. Before the tour guide arrived, Deborah told me she didn't feel well enough to go on the tour--nausea and fever. So I went on a tour of Arezzo and Cortona alone. A huge bummer.

On Wednesday morning we had a tour scheduled of Pisa and Lucca. Deborah was too sick to go on the tour, and she didn't want me hanging around the suite all day, so she insisted that I go "enjoy" my vacation. Some fun. I told the driver to take me to a winery for lunch and wine tasting.

Thursday, Deborah was sick, so I walked around Florence.

Friday, Deborah was too sick to go on the Brunello tour, so I went alone. Big sucking bummer.

Saturday, I walked around Florence and bought a few gifts.

Sunday, we finally left for the airport to return to the United States. The flights back home were not as good, but the security in Europe is much better than in the United States. They never once asked to see Deborah's vagina or my testicles, yet I still felt safe getting on a plane. How can that be TSA?

Everyday that Deborah was sick, I took her food, bought her medicine, and went grocery shopping in Italy to try and find American foods she might be able to eat. The rest of the time, I either went on tours because the driver had already been paid, or watched Italian dubbed American TV shows or ice hockey. If I never see another NHL game or Italy again, it won't bother me one bit.

Three honeymoon attempts and tens of thousands of dollars later, I resign from over-the-top dream-come-true honeymoon planning. And no more mixing work with pleasure--if I have to go make a presentation, I'll do it alone. If it's a "vacation," we'll do it together. It's been mentioned a trip to Hawaii might be fun, or maybe a vacation to Maine. I'm thinking Vail...or...maybe Garden of the Gods...or...maybe just a trip to the outlet mall in Loveland.

Brutal Honestly--Lexie's On A Roll

2010-10-17T09:56:00.002-06:00

So we're in the kitchen this morning, and I'm making breakfast. We haven't had bacon in a very long time, so I bought a package of bacon to cook for breakfast.

The kids are eating, and Jarrod asks, "Is this fat? Can I eat the fat on the bacon?"

I replied, "Yes, you can eat fat."

To which Lexie added, "DB, does that mean we can eat your belly?"

Highlights

2010-10-16T11:31:00.002-06:00

I was lying on the bed with my head in Deborah's lap when Lexie, 6, came in to sit with mommy. Lexie started putting multiple pony tails in mom's hair while we watched a movie. The conversation between Lexie and Deborah was all about hair, including Deborah's highlights.

After a few minutes, Lexie looked at my hair and said, "Look mommy. DB has highlights too. See, here, here, there, and over his ears."

Highlights? Yeah, I have some "highlights," but the good thing is I still have hair.

I love...

2010-10-08T13:16:00.002-06:00

There are many people/things that I love...

I love being married to Deborah and kissing her throughout the day.

I love our kids--even after I've been entertaining them at a fun park for hours. I want some of that energy.

I love sweat dripping off my elbows, nose, and running shorts. I thought about writing that I love bleeding nipples, but I don't really love that part. It's the workout that I love.

I love studying and thinking about new ideas.

I love the first real snow of the year that covers the mountaintops. This morning the mountains had a fresh coat of snow.

What a great day and great life I have.

It's Broke

2010-07-09T11:56:00.002-06:00

The radiologist and my sports medicine doctor finally reviewed the MRI. The tibia is fractured, which explains why my leg hurts and swells every day. No running for at least 3 months (yuk!). No bike, no elliptical, and no stairs for at least 6 weeks. No swimming for 3 weeks. Nothing. Crutches and a boot to move around for 6 weeks until we can see if the bone is healing. If not, I will need a pin inserted to help the healing.

I can't type long enough or fast enough to sweat, so I guess I'll have to start watching my diet to keep from weighing 300 lbs by the wedding. Oh, the wedding. It's on September 12. And with my injuries and Deborah's injuries, we're hoping we don't have to make a trip to the Scooter Store for our walk/ride/drive down the aisle together.

Another MRI, and I Know I'm 49

2010-07-04T18:27:00.003-06:00

This aging crap sucks. After a really good training period leading up to the Estes Park 1/2 marathon, my left tibia/ankle/foot blew out. I held out hope that I could still run the 1/2, but the weekend of the event, my ankle was still swollen. After the hike, I had to ice the ankle and take 12 Motrin per day to reduce the swelling and pain.

So, it was off to the field of magnets for an image.

I'm not a medical doctor, but it looks like something isn't "right" around the tibia. Hopefully, my sports medicine doc will tell me I'm injured and how to fix it on Thursday. I told him during my initial visit that he has to keep me together through next year so that I can run a marathon at 50.

Plumber's Butt

2010-06-19T20:42:00.004-06:00

Deborah has convinced me that since we live near the mountains, we really should hike the mountains. During our first 6.5 mile hike, I convinced her that plumbers and hikers present the same view.

Happy New Year 2010

2009-12-30T14:39:00.002-07:00

Happy new year!

Symmetry

2009-12-07T22:32:00.002-07:00

When you're 7 going on 8, you visit the doctor, get a shot, and get a sucker.

When you're 48 going on 49, you visit the doctor, get a prostate exam, and get a Viagra sample.

Training for The Cowtown is going well. Hopefully, I will post a chart soon.

DNF - Marathon, Australia, and Marriage

2009-10-05T08:57:00.003-06:00

This time last year I had flown to Anchorage for work before flying to Melbourne for a meeting and, while I was there, run a marathon and have a vacation of a lifetime. If you read my training report from September and October, it should be clear that I was not ready to run a marathon. My training was suitable for about 18 miles.

During the 2008 Melbourne Marathon, I managed to run 30km, or 18.6 miles before I slowed to a walk and finally stopped. DNF - did not finish. I caught a ride back to the cricket stadium. I trained to run 18 miles, and I ran 18 miles. I didn't respect the distance.

While in Australia, Deborah and I visited Melbourne, Adelaide, the Barossa Valley, Lizard Island, and Sydney. If I had it to do over again, I would spend the majority of my time in Sydney. Overall, the trip was disappointing. A DNF across the continent.

The race report has been delayed while I got over both a marathon and Australian DNF. I'm still not over it.

The trip had been planned for months. Initially, it was supposed to be a honeymoon, but Deborah and I didn't get married. Except for the marathon, it was also supposed to be a romantic trip - wine country tours, a romantic exclusive island resort, a little nude sunbathing, making love on the beach, etc. Didn't quite work out as planned.

I envisioned thinking about our fantasy island vacation for years, and I still think about it, but not in a "hey, that was cool" kind of way.

It took a year to write about it, but life goes on, and I'm ready for what's next. And what's next is the Cowtown Marathon on February 28, 2010. I couldn't stop with that Melbourne disaster, so I'm going to run another marathon. (Aside: I was supposed to run a fall marathon, but I broke my left foot in June.) I'm into week 3 of my 16 week training schedule, and all is well. I'm too old and heavy, but I could have said that every year since 2001. If I can manage to get in my long runs in January and February, I'll run the Cowtown.

My next post won't take a year.

It's On

2008-10-08T22:47:00.002-06:00

Sitting in the floor at LAX waiting to board Qantas for Melbourne. The long runs and 5 day taper are complete. Nothing left to do but run 26.2 miles on Sunday. Deborah will be with me and cheering me on to a PR. This should be fun.

August Sucked

2008-09-22T18:09:00.003-06:00

Let's see...

Marathon training hit a few snags. After a 13.57 mile long run the week of 4-10 AUG, my legs were so sore that I had trouble walking. The next week, I completed a single 6-mile run. The next week, I completed a single 5.44 mile run.

Doubt about Melbourne began to creep into my thoughts.

Sometimes I HATE being 47 and 240 lbs.

The next week (25-31 AUG), I said "f_ck it, I'm running." I managed 28.42 miles for the week with a 11.65 mile long run on Friday.

On Sunday, my ankle was so swollen, I couldn't walk. Damn!

Serious doubt about Melbourne began to creep into my thoughts.

I was down to 5 weeks with no long runs over 14 miles. I thought, "what the hell. If I'm going down, I'm going down running." So the week of 8-14 SEP I managed 10.13 miles with a 6.13 mile long run.

And, I put the whole Melbourne Marathon running decision on last weeks training. The result? On Monday, I ran 14.01 miles. On Wednesday, 6.13 miles. On Thursday, 3.5 miles. And on Saturday, 16.21 miles.

I'm going to run the Melbourne Marathon. I may miss my 4 hour goal (again), but I'll be there with my big ass shoes laced up and ready to run.

Today, I ran 6.25 miles in 1:02:00. A 4:20 marathon pace if I can do it for 26.2 miles. My PR is 4:16:23. A new PR in Melbourne? Why the hell not? August sucked, September's looking better, but October may be the jewel at 47 and 240 lbs.

Thinking About Geometry

2008-08-04T21:47:00.003-06:00

I managed to run 29.7 miles for week 11 with an 11.88 mile long run that was supposed to be 14 miles. Too damn hot. I only had one gel, which went down at mile 6, and by mile 10, I was running out of steam. Gatorade tasted awful, no water, and friggin hot. So, I made a course adjustment and cut 2.12 miles off the scheduled run. I decided that I needed 4 days off to rest and repair. Today was day 3, and it felt very strange to skip the normal run.

Deborah, my wife-to-be, told me that registration starts this week, and school starts in two weeks. Where did the summer go? It seems like the boys just started swimming and now they are going back to school. Where did June go? What did we do? A few weekends at Elitch Gardens, a movie, and it is over.

I'm working on a new problem, and the geometry is kicking my ass right now. Well, maybe not kicking my ass, but I'm having a little trouble visualizing the problem. It's not an extremely difficult problem, but only a few authors have published any solutions. I'm one of the authors, but I'm trying to formulate a more general solution. Another day or two and it will get worked out. This is when I need to run, that is, when I'm running there is nothing to do but watch for obstacles in my path, compare other booty with my wife-to-be's very fine ass, and think about geometry...

Intros Forthcoming

2008-08-02T17:50:00.003-06:00

Deborah, Jarrod, Miranda, Justin, and Lexie

David, Miranda, Jarrod, Justin, and Lexie

Family!

Nuff Said

2008-08-01T21:37:00.003-06:00

Albuquerque Journal - Trevor

Ignorance Bordering On Stupidity

2008-07-30T21:35:00.003-06:00

I never intended to write a political blog, but sorry folks. I just cannot let Mr. Obama's statement today pass without comment. Here's the video clip...

Note the stunned silence when Mr. Obama suggests that simply keeping tires inflated will save more gas than can be found by drilling. People, what is the saying that many attribute to Mark Twain?

Better to keep your mouth closed and be thought a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.

Substitute "ignorant bordering on stupid" for "a fool" and you have my impression of Mr. Obama's statement.

Over at Powerline, John Hinderaker notes the ignorance of Mr. Obama's statement, and I encourage all readers to click on the link and read the post.

While Mr. Obama's statement specifically referred to gasoline, it reflects his "energy policy," that is, we need to conserve, wean ourselves from oil and gas, and turn to technology to provide energy from renewable sources.

The United States economy is driven by energy--cheap energy--and we need ever increasing amounts of energy to sustain growth. Every blog post increases the US demand for energy. Every new iPhone increases the US demand for energy. Every new baby increases the US demand for energy.

The United States cannot sustain economic growth with conservation, weaning from hydrocarbons, and a shift to renewable sources of energy. The magnitude of the energy demand is far to large to be supplied by renewable sources and conservation alone. As Mr. Pickens stated before congress, the United States should do it all, including solar, wind, nuclear, bio, and yes, even drilling for oil and gas, to move towards energy independence and sustain economic growth.

Energy, because it is tied so closely to the economy, may be the single most important issue in the 2008 election. Please don't vote for a man that believes a little air in our tires will conserve more oil than can be obtained by drilling. Mr. Obama's suggestion is both absurd and ignorant, and his ideas are not the "change" America needs.

Sure It's Gross, But...

2008-07-30T20:31:00.004-06:00

First, Justin had his cast removed after 3 WEEKS! Must be great to be 5 and heal that quick. The picture shows Justin's arm after the cast was removed. When the picture was taken, the three pins were still in his skin, through the muscle, and into the bone. The pins were pulled out with pliers. Justin, Jarrod, and I watched the pin pulling with open-mouthed awe.

Second, for those thinking about signing up and running a marathon, here is my shirt following Saturday's 12.2 mile long run. Yes, nipples bleed, and now I know why all the children were running away as I waved and ran past.

But, here's the important part. The pain of high-tech Dri-fit fabric rubbing nipples until they bleed is so much less than the pain everywhere else that I didn't notice I was bleeding until I saw the look on the boys' faces.

Why do you marathon?

Sorry King Soopers

2008-07-26T08:59:00.002-06:00

I forgot to post last week that I ran 25.9 miles with a 10.07 mile long run, which leads me to this week...

I broke a cardinal rule of long runs last night. The night before a long run don't share pizza with your kids. Five miles into the run, I knew I couldn't make it back to the house without a toilet. I made a turn and headed for King Soopers, which at 7 am wasn't very busy. After seriously polluting the King Soopers potty, I hit the pavement again to finish the run. The end result is that for week 12, that is, 12 weeks before the marathon, I ran 30.17 miles with a 12.20 mile long run and a potty stoppy. Sorry King Soopers.

More Secrets Revealed

2008-07-12T22:29:00.004-06:00

Granny asks Justin when he goes to church.

Justin says, "Oh, that's over until school starts."

So what has Granny learned in 3 days? The church year and school year are one in the same, but anytime is good for Hooter's.

Other
This was a good week. After a bad start with Justin breaking his arm, he is doing better, and for week 14, I got in a 26 miles with a 9 mile long run. I also managed to swim 900m. Now the mileage should start climbing towards Melbourne.

Hooter's Please

2008-07-10T14:57:00.004-06:00

Granny flew to Denver to help with the boys while one is in a cast. Last night she decided a treat was in order, so she offered to take us to dinner. Justin, with the broken arm, was given his choice of restaurant, and after thinking for a second, he said, "Hooter's!"

Granny laughed.

I was thinking two things.

First, that's a pretty smart move because a shoulder length cast on a 5 year old in Hooter's is like fly paper to flies in a landfill. He wouldn't have room to eat with all the sympathy he'd be getting from the Hooter's girls.

Second, I think I've taken them to Hooter's a few too many times. Not every meal request is a time for Hooter's. I mean, boys, how many grandmas have you seen in Hooter's the one or two times we've gone?

Quick, What Happened Next?

2008-07-09T22:08:00.003-06:00

Three pins and a cast.

He's slowly getting used to it, and the ER gave "Happy" a cast too.

What Goes Around

2008-07-06T08:33:00.002-06:00

Whew, what a week. Last weekend, I became the latest victim of the summer intestinal bug that had slowed the boys' activities. After resting Sunday and Monday, I thought I was ready to run. Mistake. Big mistake.

At 3 miles, stuff was percolating. At 4 miles, I was squeezing cheeks and running to get back to the locker room. At 6.25 miles, I was trying harder than ever to avoid pooping and throwing up on a downtown street. Some run.

So with 15 weeks before the Melbourne Marathon, I ran a total of 6.25 miles with no swimming. I think(!) I'm much better now.

Daddy Runs, Boys With Runs

2008-06-28T11:18:00.002-06:00

There's a bug going around that hit the boys-one boy moreso than the other. It causes mild fever and diarrhea. Oh yeah. I thought they were over it, so I sent them back to summer camp on Thursday. During swim time, yes, swim time, the diarrhea hit Justin. He didn't soil the pool, but he didn't make it to the locker room either. So when dad picks them up, I have a double plastic-bagged treat of swimming trunks soaked with chlorinated water and shit. It's good to be a dad, and worth every second of shit.

Today marks 15 weeks to the Melbourne Marathon. I ran 23 miles this week with a long run of 6.5 miles. On schedule and not too much pain anywhere...yet. I also started to swim again this week. I'm slow, but I'm in the water.

Obvious Guilt Clouded My Mind

2008-06-22T20:26:00.003-06:00

As previously posted, I was supposed to be competing at Ironman Coeur d'Arlene today, and I've thought about it off and on all day, that is, I thought, "what kind of loser registers and drops out of an Ironman event." Anyway, this kind decided to take the boys to Elitch Gardens to play in the water and theme parks today.

In the water park, I wore my Speedos that I began swimming in last year while I trained for IM CdA. After finishing the swim part of the day, we changed into theme park attire, which in my case consisted of shorts, athletic shirt, and...

Don't see it huh? Look at the shoes. One Asics, one New Balance.

Not one of my better moments, but since I'm a guy, I said, "what the _uck?" We stayed at the theme park for another 4 hours--me wearing two different shoes.

My wife-to-be and new daughters were probably glad they weren't there. Dad, no doubt, lost a little luster from his armor today.

Good Luck in CdA

2008-06-20T20:12:00.002-06:00

Last year I thought that I was ready for an Ironman event. I registered for Ironman Coeur d'Alene with a bunch of other bloggers. Over the summer of 07, I learned that I can swim a very long way...very, very slowly. I got so frustrated that I quit. Hard to say, but true. I'm still running, but the 21 miles this week isn't the 140.6 miles I had planned to swim, bike, and run.

To all those competitors that are heading for CdA, I wish you the best. I've tried the training, and I know how hard it is to achieve iron fitness. Best of luck.

Meanwhile...Monday starts my 16 week training cycle for the Melbourne Marathon. I figured if I'm flying across the globe, I might as well plan a TRIP. As it stands now, I'm flying to Melbourne, running a marathon, flying to Adelaide, discussing technology with assorted wine tastings, flying to Sydney, looking around, flying to Papeete (Tahiti), and playing with the wife-to-be. So to speak.

Father Remebered

2008-06-15T22:45:00.005-06:00

My father died in 2006, and my mom recently moved into a new house. In the process, my mom found my dad's diary--a diary that we had never read--from June 1944. My dad was 19 and not a draftee. He joined the United States Navy at 17.

June 1, 1944 We are laying in Plymouth harbor waiting for "D" Day. We know that the invasion will come in A matter of days. Our naval forces here includes APA Bayfield, CLA Augusta, about a dozen destroyers and hundreds of LCI's and LSTs
which are coming out the river. The landing craft (all loaded with American troops) are anchored around us. This is the point where each craft is issued a barrage balloon. As soon as balloons are issued, the ships form convoys and depart. More ships keep coming out the river. all liberty has been stopped. All enlisted men going on the beach must be accompanied by an officer. I had the task of making out money orders so Mr.O'Neal accompanie me to get me past a heavy army guard posted on the pier. Had gas instruction.

June 2, 1944- Was on watch from 4-8 this morning and watched the soldiers get up and eat their chow. Some of them stand around talking, others sit and think, still others delight themselves with rough=and=tumble activities. These are the fellow that make up the first wave. A lot of the fellows that I see here this morning will be lying on the beaches of France in a few days. Some tugs shoved off this morning.

June 3, 1944- The time is near. Lousy weather.

June 4, 1044-This harbor is empty except for three tugs and the crusier Augusta.

June 5, 1944- At last- Us three tugs have orders to go to Exeter. Augusta and a couple of destroyers escorts remaine in harbor. When we left but four hours later she and seven British cruisers passed us as if we were standing still.Weather is somewhat better. We saw about 40 LCI's heading toward sea or to France. We believe it to be only a matter of hours. We are now anchored in Exete harbor. It is getting dark and planes with gliders are filling the sky. They have lights on them which are very unusual.

June 6, 1944- We were told at 1201 this morning by the captain that today is "D" Day. and that the invasion has or will start shortly. Our job is to be the towing of two barges to France. The barges are loaded with all types of ammunition, 50,000 gals of flame throwing liquid and a small amount of signal corps telephones and lines. This morning our thoughts were confirmed over the radio. Communique#1 - this morning our naval forces, supported by air forces, began landing our armies on the northern coast of France. We hav been sitting in the mess hall all morning listening to the broadcasts. Communique #1 is repeated about every fifteen minutes. Supreme headquarters is giving instructions to the people of France. General "Ike" talked as well as the King of Norway and the Prime Ministers of the Netherlands, Belgian, and Poland and DeGaule of France. The King of England also spoke. They give warnings and instructions to the towns and localities likely to be hit. The crew is rather sober and varied in its views. Some are glad that we are still in England. But most of us feel as if we have been left out of one of the greatest battles ever fought and we are mad.

June7, 1944--Left Exmouth with tow. We will go up to point "z" and then head for France. Cond. 2 is set and everyone is wearing his life jacket with gas mask and helmet handy. Nothing exciting. More planes going over.

June8, 1944- Underway. Headed straight for France. The channel at this point is filled with ships going back and forth. Its a regular highway. Liberty ships are on our port, LSTs on stbd. Naval vessels in distance and a hospital ship is racing back to England.

June 9, 1944-Had an 8-12 watch on wing of bridge.Could tell
we were getting close to France as debre littered the waters surface. Timber, boxes, and about two dozen life jackets have floated by. Also saw gas cans floating. Arrived at 0930 off Omaha beach head. Thousands of ships were packed in there. There were a few sunken vessels around. The big babys were in near the beach. The Ancon, Bayfield, Augusta, Texas. Liberty ships and trawlers were farther out. Ducks and small landing craft are shuttering back and forth. The army artillary up on the hill are throwing some steel hell at the Huns. A plane flies over the batteries directing shell fires. A small tent-city has been built on the beach and is plainly marked by Red-Crosses. We have a good aireal unbrella.A plane cam over in the afternoon at about 300 feet. She tried to hit the Augusta but missed with her only bomb. All hell broke loose as every ship in the harbor opened up including us. That Jerry had enough.

JUNE 10, 1944- Saw one of the biggest sights of my life lsst night. Enemy planes were over off and on all night. Tracers and explosions lit up the sky and made it beautiful. A funny thing but all hell was raging about and I was perfectly calm. If anyone had ever told me that I wouldn't be scared, I would have told them that they were crazy. Things quiet here and we see the fireworks down the beach. They go down to pester the Limeys. The British use spotlights but we depend on radar.
And it works quite well. The show in the distance is beautiful with streams of tracers flying all over the sky and the hugh flashes of flame and smoke where the bombs are dropping. The firing is getting nearer as the planes come back over to pester us. In the darkness sudden flashes light up the beach and you know that Jerry is getting unwanted hell from our beach artillary. We didn't do so bad last night. In all, I saw five planes go down in flames. Some of them seem to just fall apart. Landing of men and equipment go on continuously. The naval vessels (big babies) stand off and pour salvo after salvo into the Hun defences. A stranger sight is to see the French cruiser, Montcalm shelling her own country. We discovered today that we are in the right church but the wrong pew. Our barges have to go to the other American beachhead, Utah. We travel about 20 miles down the coast amidst sunken ships and bombarding vessels. The cliffs and flat land above are literally plowed up from the fierce bombardment of our naval vessels. Passed the Arkansas.

JUNE 11, 1944-Arrived at Utah. Looks as if the party really got rough here. There are quite a few liberty ships here (One of them sitting on the bottom). Ships are sunk all around. Many are victims of mines. An American destroyer is broken in half and both her bow and stern stick out of the water. A tug and many mine sweeps are sitting on the bottom. The beach head is a beehive of activity with duck and jeeps running along a make-shift road on the beach. There is an American fighter plane forced down on the beach, but apparently not hurt bad. Several roads marked with signs lead from the beachhead through cleared mine fields. Landing craft and strung along the beach and the big ships are unloading onto Rihno barges which run back and forth. Ships are running around every where. This harbor is under enemy fire from the right flank. Where we have not made landings. Our warships are laying salvo after salvo trying to silence these guns. We have orders to take our tow beside an LST, which is sunken at the stern. Our hightly explosive tow was brought up alonside, a barge on either side. My biggest scare came when we were about to under take our task. Four shells landed about 50 yards of our stern and shook the ship quite a bit. If we had gotten one of those shells in our cargo, this diary would be complete. Our ship, the crew, and everthing in the vicintity would have gone up in a poof!!!! We got rid of our cargo and got out of no-mans land. In one hell of a hurry. In bidding us good-bye, Jerry planted a shell about 75 yards behind in our wake. We went way out of range and anchored. That night we saw the same air raids and bombarment as before. It seems that you never get tired of watching such a show.

JUNE 12, 1944-Headed back for England and a tow. Sort of hate to leave here. I guess I sort of like action. (I don't understand it myself.) Arrived in England and picked up mail and two navy camermen who will film our work and actions while they are aboard. Picked up another tow (floating bridge) and started for France. But weather forced us back. Discoverd that all the bridges were breaking up on the way across. Found out that E boats sunk five tugs including Partridge and Algorma's tow. ATR 13 just brought in a dead aviator which they picked up.

JUNE 13, 1944- Nothing doing till 1800 when we got message to go to aid of destroyer Nelson (623) which was sinking. Half our crew was ashore so we got underway with half crew. I was helping on the fantail to get the pumps and diving gear ready. Destroyers stern was blown off which left it with the looks of a loaded cigar after it had blown up. E boats was the cause but the Nelson made them pay two out of three. 24 men were killed; 5 injured. The after turret was blown into the water with its gun crew inside. The depth charges flew into the air and it was raining oil all over the deck. Lucky for them the depth charges didn't explode. There was a hospital pick up ship there picking up the injured. All the fellows in #2 turret (aft) received broken arms and legs. Of the dead, only seven were recoverd. Several were picked up in pieces and finger printed and put in sea bags. Two still remained in the twisted metal. Clearly visible was the ws the foot and leg, hand and head of one dead man still pinned in the wreckage. Cameramen got some good pictures which may come out in newsreels.

JUNE 14, 1944- Shoved off for Dungeness to get a tow. Arrived and anchored. Dutch tug was sunk here night before last. All hands lost. E boats are really raising hell.

JUNE 15, 1944- Nothing new.

JUNE 16, 1944-Nothing new. Why are we left out of the war? Damn this sitting around.

JUNE 17, 1944-We experienced a real exclusive thrill last night. Pilotless planes (we call them zippos) came over England for the first time. We saw the first one coming but we thought that it was one of our own planes as it has a light on it. As it passed over a few guns opened up but it stayed on its course. A very funny thing. The second one came over and this time a terrific barrage met it but it stayed right on its course. We noticed that the light was unsteady so thought it to be a ricket plane (jet propulsion). A third came directly over the ship so I got a pretty good idea what it was. It had a loud motor (or propulsion mechanism) and had a flaming exhaust. It stays weirdly on its course. Shells will not scare it. Nothing less than a direct hit will sway it from its course. We saw a few shot down and some exploded in the sky. The explosion is terrific.

JUNE 27, 1944- It is now 1500 and we are approaching the coast of France. Cherbouro fell this morning so it is possible that we might go up there. Delivered our unit to mulberry (B). Sunken ships about and hundred of ballons in the air. Country side looks peaceful. Hitler said we couldn't win without a harbor. He didn't know that we were going to build our own.

JULY 4, 1944- Today--several years ago we won our independence from would be aggressors. Today-1944- we are fighting to preserve that same freedom which America is respected for by other nations

I think about my dad often, and more than anything, I think he's the kind of American that I hope I am and want my boys to be.

Like Father, Like Son(s)

2008-06-11T19:02:00.002-06:00

I assured the summer camp leader that the boys could not swim. She said don't worry, we watch them closely...

As I arrived to take the boys home, Nate asked, "have the boys been around water much?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"Well Jarrod assured us that he could swim, and he went straight to the bottom," replied Nate.

Now I have to convince the boys that it's OK to get back into the big pool. After last years attempt at swimming, I need to convince Dad too.

The Next Marathon

2008-06-04T10:02:00.002-06:00

I'm going down under to race. I'm scheduled to speak at a technical meeting being held in the Barossa Valley of Australia, so I thought, "hey, why not run a marathon on another continent?" Silly, silly geeky big man.

Anyway, since I wasn't a lottery pick to run the 2008 St. George marathon, I'm running the Melbourne Marathon on October 12, 2008. I'll be wearing number 443. I wonder if they will have mile markers or only those kilometer things? 42.195 km just sounds much longer than 26.2 miles.

Why Americans Don't Trust Their Government

2008-06-03T20:45:00.002-06:00

One chart illustrating legislation before the Senate explains it all.

Now I understand why my dad wrote that Congress should stay on vacation 9 to 10 months a year.

Tony Stewart Moment

2008-06-02T21:44:00.000-06:00

The boys have electric John Deere Gators that they drive around the driveway, and I thought that I could get in a run along a carefully planned route with them driving in their Gators. Bicycles would be better, but I don't know if they could ride 6 miles without constant support. On the other hand, they can drive till the batteries die.

So on Friday, off we go. I run ahead, loop back, run ahead, loop back, etc. After about 4.5 miles Jarrod wants to pass Justin, but Justin keeps his Gator "wide." Being the NASCAR dad that I am, I told Jarrod that he has to stick his nose under Justin and keep his foot in the throttle, which he did.

Jarrod made the pass as Justin was spun into the grass. I'm jumping up and down while praising Jarrod for his driving, and I look back at Justin, who has crawled out of his Gator, kicking the tires, screaming, and whining about that other "blank" car.

It was like watching a NASCAR short-track race...and I felt proud.

Tesla's Vibrating Platform, aka, The Treadmill

2008-05-29T23:05:00.000-06:00

There's a story of Mark Twain visiting the New York laboratory of Nikola Tesla where Tesla invites Twain to stand on a vibrating platform. As Twain enjoyed the pleasurable vibrations, and ignored Tesla's suggestions to get off of the platform, Twain was suddenly forced to jump and run for the bathroom. It seems that Tesla failed to inform Twain of the laxative effects of the platform.

In my basement laboratory, I have a Precor treadmill. This week because of twin duty before their summer program starts, I have been running my 6 miles on the treadmill. By the time I get to 5 miles, I feel movement, and at 6 miles I'm off and running doing my Twain imitation. A hundred years later, and I can still hear Tesla laughing.

Hello! And His Momma Must Have Been Proud

2008-05-24T22:06:00.001-06:00

I got too much to say about nothing, so I decided to start blogging about nothing again. I have another blog--refrac.net. Check it out when you can't sleep. It's supposed to be about technical oil and gas stuff.

If anyone used to read my old blog. I wrote about nothing and running. When I signed out, I had finished two marathons, signed up for an Ironman triathlon, quit my job, and started a new company.

Now...I'm preparing for marathon number three. I realized that I can't swim worth a shit, and my Ironman event will need to wait. My old job, and the company I worked for, make me glad I quit. My new company is open...and struggling.

I can't wait to write something funny.

I've been sleeping with the windows open. Two nights ago, at 2:42 am, I woke up to the aroma of skunk. Strong enough that he could have been in the backyard. I couldn't stand it, and I shut my windows. The next day, while driving to the office, I saw said skunk dead along the side of the road at least 1/2 mile from my house. Now I can stink, but I don't think I stink to people in their homes 1/2 mile away. His momma must have been proud.