Mara and I have started this little tradition where we make salt water taffy around Christmastime. I have no idea how the idea was born last season. Actually, I do. It was Christmas break last year, the child was busy guarding the couch and TV so I decided that we needed a project. And I had a hankering for salt water taffy at that moment.
Last year we made peppermint, green apple, and root beer. They were good. More like okay. I’d say the success was in learning something new, the process, and having fun spending time together.
Last night we tried a different recipe and made buttered rum salt water taffy and they turned out awesome. We ran out of corn syrup. I’ll run out and get some today so we can make our batch of cinnamon spice taffy.
Every year Strava publishes their “Year in Sport” for it’s users. It’s a cool wrap up of all of my running (and a handful of bike rides and walks/hikes) stats for the entire year. I’m not sure if this report is finalized. I’ll have to check and see if it’ll pull in new data as there’s still 11 days left in December.
The one statistic that stands out to me is my total distance running. The 2,285 miles include some rides and walks. My actual total distance running as I type this is 2,172.6 miles. That’s the most I’ve ever run in the 10 years that I’ve been running. That averages a 10k every day that ends in a “y.”
Here are my aggregate annual stats, according to Strava:
2013: 557.1 mi 2014: 1,215.0 mi 2015: 1,777.3 mi 2016: 1,773.5 mi 2017: 1,900.0 mi 2018: 1,546.5 mi 2019: 1,697.9 mi 2020: 2,027.3 mi 2021: 1,839.7 mi
And the best part is that it didn’t feel like any additional “work” to get my highest mileage year. A lot of those miles were fun, easy, and/or social runs. It’s a good indication and reminder that I made time for myself to do the thing that brings me happiness. A lot of those miles were hard training runs and racing too, and I’d be lying if I said those weren’t fun as hell as well.
I’ve absolutely no statistical goals for 2024, but it’ll be fun to see how next year wraps up. But that’s next year. Running imitates life. It’s one step at a time, one day at a time.
I was stifled and censored at work today. I wrote the newsletter, and the feedback was, “Let’s cut down on the cheekiness in the intro ;)”
I write a newsletter for a run club.
As much as I would’ve been inclined to be angry, I couldn’t help but laugh.
I stared at my draft and contemplated how I would rewrite it. And I couldn’t do it. It’s painful for me to write without my personality and voice.
So I decided to do what I was told. Instead of rewriting it, I deleted the mirth, fun, and human element. And now the run club newsletter is as exciting as a homeowners insurance policy update letter.
The feedback upon second submission: “Beautiful, let it rip!”
Results from the 2023 Run by the Creek 10k can be seen here.
It’s become an unintentional tradition to race the Run By The Creek 5K & 10K every other year. Since starting a paying job at Austin Runners Club this summer, my racing has taken a backseat to supporting the running community. Today I raced what has become one of my favorite local races. Untrained.
Today’s goals were: A: Run how I felt B: Podium my age group or win Masters C: Break 37 minutes D: Win the whole thing
I felt good, excited, and nervous at the same time this morning after getting out of bed. Usually I’m not nervous on race day. I always tell my athletes, “You can only control so much. Control what you can.” So I embraced the anxiety and accepted it as simply the way that I was feeling. The anxiety was good. It meant I had expectations of myself.
There were some other “seasoned” runners in the starting corral, so I knew there might be a race for Goal B. There were a lot of high school kids, probably coming off cross country season, so Goal D stayed at the bottom of the list.
The gun went off and we piled out. After the first half mile I looked at my watch and had already settled nicely into the Goal C pace. I revisited Goal A and decided I could hang there for 5 more miles. I knew I’d pay for it at the 5k mark, but I also knew that over the course of 10 years I’ve been learning to deal with the discomfort.
I hit the 5k split at 18:29. I could do it.
And that’s when I noticed how quiet it had become. I was out front. All alone. I’d outrun the footfalls behind me.
That’s when Goal D moved up. I knew the last 3/4 of a mile were uphill. I’d still try to break 37 minutes, but I’d try harder to break the tape.
It’s odd, the sounds you think you hear when you know there’s someone behind you, but you don’t know how far. I thought I could hear footfalls. But I couldn’t tell if they were echos of my own. Or something completely different. Like hammering in a barn in a pasture near the course. Or my heartbeat in my ears.
Brandon, Mark, Iram, and Josh
With two miles to go I couldn’t start backing down. I didn’t want to look back. If I couldn’t see second place, that would mean I would let myself back down, and I’d pay for that in the last mile.
I asked a volunteer at the 1.5 mile aid station, “how far back is he?”
“He’s way back there.”
I could dial it back, or I could add some distance between us.
The hill added 15 seconds to my last half mile pace and it hurt.
I didn’t break 37 minutes, but I broke the tape. My first 10k to win overall.
And the best part? Being with these three friends at the end who all podiumed in their respective divisions and age groups. Look at those grins.
Today is National Letter of Intent Signing Day for NCAA Division I and II prospective college student athletes. It’s the day on which high school students sign their respective letters of intent to play NCAA sports for the university or college from which they’ve received athletic scholarship offers.
Today Maly signed her Letter of Intent to play lacrosse for the University of Charleston West Virginia.
It’s not that I’d ever doubt that a day like this would be possible. It’s a day that I’d never considered to expect.
Just before the first runners set off at 7:03 a.m.
The Zilker Relays is a tradition for the Austin running community and is always held every year on the first Friday after Labor Day. The event is a 4-person, 10 mile relay held at Zilker Park. The event was started 20 years ago by my new friend, Paul Perrone.
Last year the Circle C Run Club had four teams participate in the Zilker Relays. This year we had eight teams participate. And we showed up in style. We had fully stocked tents and the teams had a blast hanging out with and competing against each other.
I had to work all day at the Zilker Relays since the event is now owned and operated by Austin Runners Club. I was able to peel away for enough time to race with my own team (we took second in Masters). That was an 18 hour day for yours truly and, unfortunately, I didn’t get to do much hanging out with my own run club.
It wasn’t until two days later that I was finally able to sit down and look at the results from the Circle C Run Club teams.
Two of our teams had a friendly rivalry and I was really curious about one of the team’s namesake. I came to find out that team “Beat Scott” did, in fact, beat Scott’s team “Deflated Lungs.”
Two days after the Zilker Relays and with the intent to stir the pot a little, I posted the rival teams’ results in our run club’s Facebook group. I went on writing without doing much thinking and wrote, “I sense and propose a rematch. A rivalry. A new tradition that spans the contempt among just two teams. We should hold the Circle C Relays. But it’ll be bigger. And badder. And probably have a better name.”
I went on to jokingly propose that our relays be 20 miles in distance (twice the distance of the Zilker Relays) and, instead of a baton, the teams would pass a rubber rattlesnake. Our neighborhood has a lot of rattlesnakes, hence that brilliant idea.
That Facebook post garnered a lot more excitement than I’d intended. So I thought about it for a hot minute, and two days later I created the Rattlesnake Relays.
It took three weeks to create a multi-team event from absolutely nothing. We made a few adjustments from my original idea. We decided to make the relay a 12 mile course instead of 20. Our run club is very inviting and inclusive, so we didn’t want this to be a traditional race based on fastest times. We decided that the winning team would be determined by how close they came to their predicted finish time. We implemented a staggered start so all of the teams would finish at approximately the same time. And to thwart any sandbagging, cheating, and/or strategies, I reserved the right to implement an over/under. I would add or subtract somewhere between 3 and 7 minutes to each teams estimated finish time.
Captains had to register their teams. Each runner paid $10 to participate in the relays. I bought a bunch of rubber rattlesnakes and we provided coffee, donuts, muffins, sandwiches, water, Gatorade, bananas, mandarin oranges, bars, and beer for everyone. I bought $25 Fleet Feet gift cards, Balega running socks, and Goodr sunglasses for each member of the winning team. We had tents, tables, a complex scoring and timing system, a team of volunteers to help make the relays happen, and a bunch of people that came out to our neighborhood community center on a Saturday morning and had a great time with their friends.
We had 14 teams register, 50 runners, a bunch of spectators, and the local physical therapy clinic came out and had a vendor booth for our runners.
The Rattlesnake Relays started out as a joke, and turned into an awesome event that only took three weeks to throw together. A huge thanks go to Elise and our friends Frank, Jen, and Lindsey for stepping up and helping to make this thing happen.
I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t stressful as all get-out, and I told everyone that I wasn’t going to do this again. But I know we will. The smiles on people’s faces makes it all worth it.
Some great photos are below. All of the photos can be see here.
Maly, Elise and I maintain a group text. Maly named the group text “People I Know” many years ago. At first I thought it was cute, and maybe one day she, or one of us, would change the group text to something more appropriate, like “family.” But it hasn’t changed. And as I’ve thought about it more, and thought that I might wish the name of the group text would change, the more I think it’s right. We are the people that we know, probably taken for granted. But the three of us know.
Maly sent this poem to us on the first day of school. It was something she’d found on TikTok.
The First Day of School
I’m 5 years old I wake up early for my first day of kindergarten “I don’t want to go to school mommy, I’ll miss you” And I don’t know anyone And I don’t leave the house often And I’m scared But I go anyway And I cry walking into the classroom away from my mommy My only friend But I make friends quickly And I like learning.
I’m 12 year old I wake up early for my first day of 7th grade “I don’t want to go to school, it’s boring” And the girls are mean And I have too many classes for one day And I don’t like my teachers But I go anyway And I linger in the car next to my mom But I get out and walk away And run to my friends And they protect me.
I’m 15 years old I wake up early for my first day of sophomore year “I don’t want to go to school, I’m tired.” Everything’s heavy And I can barely stand anymore And it’s all too loud But I go anyway And I look up at my huge school And I sit with my friends And they carry me through my year.
I’m 17 years old Tomorrow I will wake up early for my first day of senior year “I don’t want to go to school, I don’t want to grow up. Time is moving too fast And I’m not ready for it to be over And I’m scared But I’ll go anyway. And I’ll linger in the passenger seat Because I don’t want it to be the last time my mommy drives me to school And I’ll cry the night before thinking about it And I’ll find my friends and they’ll comfort me But they’re all ready to grow up And I’m still getting ready for my first day of kindergarten.
Wow. I don’t know what to say. I’m honored. That’s one thing.
However, I know there are so many more runners (masters or otherwise) that are stronger, better, and faster than me. And that’s a huge reason why I’ll always consider myself a student of running. Before I became a runner, I thought running was pretty basic and, well, boring. I mean, you put one foot in front of the other in rapid succession, right? It’s often the most basic of endeavors that can provide a lifetime of learning and exploration.
For years I was a student of Tae Kwon Do. I used to love to fight and I loved to win even more. Losing wasn’t an option in my mind. I remember very vividly one day when I got my ass handed to me and I lost. I was mad and frustrated with myself. My instructor and mentor Gus Pennison looked me square in the eye and told me, “you’ll never learn by winning all the time.” That was 30 years ago and I’ve held dearly to that advice.
My friend Brom wrote this piece about me. A few hours before he’d called me, I was having one of those very introspective moments.
See, I still have big goals and dreams for myself in running. And I think I still have a lot left in me. But I’m at this point now where there’s this immeasurable amount of me that just wants to give it away. To share it as far and wide as I can. And not even running. Just getting outside and moving your body through time and space. That’s a big reason why I started a walk/run group in my neighborhood. That’s why I bought a book that I’m reading right now that teaches the walk-run-walk methodology. To learn more and to give it away.
While I was in that introspective moment I had this vision of myself. It was one of those out-of-body moments, like I was watching myself from above. I was holding the sun in my right hand. My arm was extended from the side of my body and I was looking out, far into the horizon, while casting this thought that was louder than anything that any animal could register.
“I have THIS thing. It is light and life. And you can have it for free.”
Whatever that thing is that you love and that brings you joy, nurture it and work on it and grow and learn to love it more than you’d ever imagined. And then give it away.
I took on a pretty cool new job recently. My previous three jobs in the last two and a half years ended as a result of layoffs (by no fault of yours truly). After something like 15 years in account management and sales in the tech world, and tiresomeness, constant feelings of non-fulfillment, and hinging on straight-up depression, Elise and I had many long and honest conversations. We both knew that I was burnt out and no longer capable of being miserable and faking it for the sake of a paycheck. I really wanted to do something with running. That’s where my heart is. I talked to so many people, strangers and friends and family alike who’ve been absolute blessings to me and have helped in guiding and encouraging me. And I’ve just stayed patient, confident, and hopeful. Exactly like I do in all of my pursuits in running.
As I grow older, and hopefully wiser, and as I continue to learn about myself, and trudge down this endless path as a student of running, I’m constantly reminded that life often imitates running. It can be damn hard. It’s frustrating. It requires thoughtfulness and planning and grit. And despite all of the work that you often have to put into it, you need to pause sometimes and remember to stop trying to make it happen and just let it happen.
I’ve known her for most of my life. We first met in the photo lab in college. Photography is her life’s passion. And this was the first time that I was the subject of her craft. I might or might not be wearing clothes here.
On July 8, 2013 I made a decision to change my life. I’d led a sedentary life for the previous 20 years and I’d become fat, unhealthy, and unhappy. I remember very vividly stepping out of the shower one morning and just staring at myself in the mirror. I was very unhappy with the man who was looking back at me, so I made the decision to make changes. It was at that moment that I knew I was going to have to go to work on myself.
I found healthy meal suggestions online and immediately changed what I was putting into my body. I set out the next day and set out to go on an eight mile bike ride. My hip hurt when I rode my bike, so I pedaled back home after only making it a mile from the house. The next morning I set out on the bike again and pushed through the pain so I could make it the eight miles that I’d set out to cover. The pain in my hip was still there and I knew that I couldn’t keep forcing the bike riding lest I injure myself. But I was committed to the work that I’d signed on to do. I decided that if I couldn’t ride my bike, I would go out the next day and see if I could run a mile.
On July 11, 2013, I walked to the middle school track up the hill from our house and I ran one mile. I pushed myself hard in that mile. I remember getting starry tunnel vision in the last 300 meters and damn near collapsed after I hit one mile.
I walked after I hit one mile so I could catch my breath and let my heart rate settle down. What I’d done had hurt, but I knew that’s what I’d signed up for. I knew the process wasn’t going to be easy. And that’s when that “runner’s high” set in. That one mile didn’t kill me and my hip didn’t hurt.
I decided that I’d go out again the next day and run one mile again, but I’d run it slower. I decided that I would teach myself how to run. I would take my time and I would train so I could learn to run longer distances and gradually increase my speed.
Ten years ago today I became a student and I still learn something about running and myself every time I set foot out the door.
