Tuesday, June 10, 2014

A Running Engagement

Yes. She said yes!

It still feels like a dream. It’s been more than two weeks since I proposed and more than a week since she said yes.


Truth be told, I asked her dozens of times. Sometimes more than once a day. But only once did I present a ring. She knew all along I was serious, but the ring took it to a new level. She wasn’t expecting that yet. “Bewildered” is how she described her feeling at the moment. Then she put off giving me an answer. But when she did, boy, was it memorable!


I had joked with my friend and co-worker Jay about Susan accepting my proposal at the finish of the Run Galesburg Run Half Marathon on June 1. I had no idea she’d do just that. She’s not a public person. So I was stunned when I finally saw the big white sign — held proudly by my smiling daughter Amanda — after I crossed the finish line. It took me a while to see it. As I crossed the line in PR time, I saw Susan smiling at me and I ran straight to her. 


But I’m getting ahead of myself. This all started with a run. My second half marathon. That adds up to a full marathon over two years, so I think I’m good on that count — no need to do a full 26.2 miles in one day. Right?

Well, as with last year’s RGR Half Marathon, I did not train properly for the effort. Oh, I did a couple longer runs than my usual 3-5 miles, but I’ve not been building my endurance and stamina nor working on my pace. For at least one stretch in recent memory I didn’t run for a whole month. Most of the rest of the time I would run once, maybe twice a week. Insufficient training for a 13.1-mile run in the heat and humidity of Illinois.


I was, however, determined. Two weeks before the run I did 9 miles one day and 4 the next. Thursday before the race I did 4 miles just to make sure my legs still worked. Oh, and I’ve mostly given up my patellar strap. I think it’s been a crutch and, while necessary at times, I think the more I run without it the stronger my patellar tendon becomes.


Saturday night found me more tense and nervous than usual before a race. In fact, I’m not usually too wound up before race day. I had trouble sleeping. I worried I would have to use the toilet along the route. I fretted about walking part of the distance.


Sunday morning, I couldn’t eat. We gathered our supplies — water, iPod, towel, race bib, sunscreen — and headed to town. As I fiddled with my accoutrements, pinning my bib to the front of my shirt and adjusting my iPod armband, Susan headed over to the volunteer signup to receive her assignment. She returned to the car with a big smile. 

“Guess where I’m gonna be?” she chimed. “I’m at the finish line!”

I was happy because I wanted to see her there at the end. I didn’t want to have to wave to her along the course as I slogged by. I wanted to collapse into her arms, if collapsing were to be my finish. She was happy because it worked right into her plan.


So we made our way back to race central and I hooked up with my teammates from Team Asha for a pre-race photo. I managed to eat half a banana. I contemplated hitting the porta-potties, but decided the line was too long. I’d have to risk a poo on the run. (I want to say “Turd on the Run” because it’s a Rolling Stones song, but that would be unseemly.)


I lined up with D2 and D3 — Amanda and a newly redheaded Molly — who were doing the 5K and we awaited the starting gun. At the crack of the pistol, I was off. Actually, though not the throng of runners crowded into the starting blocks of a huge race like the Bix 7, there were nearly 1,000 crammed into the block of Simmons Street between Kellogg and Prairie, so we started out walking. But as we approached the starting line, I hopped a couple of times and took off on my own. Moll says I elbowed her as I passed. Sorry, baby. It wasn’t personal. 

For me the run was mostly uneventful. In town the course is partially shaded and comfortable. Outside of town the roads open up and the sun beat down. It got hot. It was humid. My water belt was bouncing and became annoying, so I unbuckled it and tossed it aside at Aid Station 3. My too-large Team Asha shirt I had made more comfortable by cutting the sleeves out. That allowed my armband to rub my left side, leaving a nasty sore that is still healing.

I did walk at least half a dozen times for short stretches. It actually felt worse to walk, so I returned to my running pace in short order each time. As I crossed Main Street in mile 13, my right calf knotted like a fist and I thought I was done. Fortunately it cleared in a few steps and I continued. As I rounded the last corner from Seminary to Simmons Street, I turned on my afterburners and finished with a burst of speed, driven first by a girl running neck-and-neck with me, then by the sight of Susan at the finish line — the only ponytail I had an eye for that day (first time ever).


I beat the runner girl and got the finish girl. She was beaming as I approached, and shouting something. I staggered toward her and the words finally registered: “Look at your daughter.” I gazed around in a daze. Suze pointed to her right. There stood a smiling Amanda, holding a white posterboard with “SAYS YES” in big blue letters.

I was stunned. Elated. Incredulous. Overjoyed. I started shouting, “Yes! Yes!” I grabbed Suze and squeezed her tightly. “Really? Yes?” I asked. She assured me it was no joke. I kissed her — in the photo she is noticeably grossed out, given my sweaty condition — and nearly knocked her over as my legs wobbled wearily under me.

She helped me to a shady spot under a nearby tree and plied me with water, Gatorade and bananas. Amanda stood by, proudly displaying the sign, which I finally realized didn’t simply read, “SAYS YES,” but had a subject and an object, though it lacked a preposition. At the top was glued a box of Raisinets (representing Susan) and at the bottom, Goobers (me). Goober, Goob (from “Meet the Robinsons”) is her nickname for me. And as anyone of a certain age will recall, Goobers and Raisinets go together. Of course Raisinets are my favorite movie snack.


Everyone knew what was going on but me. As soon as the runners left the start, Suze spread the word and enlisted the aid of other race volunteers. They tracked my progress on the course. Sue Dickinson rounded up a Sharpie so Suze could write YES on the back of my finisher’s medal, on which she hung the ring I’d given her the week before. Photographers Steve Davis and Kent Kriegshauser and their cronies were informed and they swarmed us afterward, preserving the moment. Moll shot video with Susan’s iPhone. It was amazing.

As I basked in my glory and giddiness, Suze smiled down on me and asked, “Can I have my ring?” I hadn’t noticed it on the medal. And I was too shaky to unclasp the medal from the ribbon to extract the ring — she did that. I was able to slip it on her finger and she leaned down for another kiss, less grossed-out this time because my sweaty torso wasn’t pressed against her.

After a brutal but beneficial stretching on the trainer table by one Melissa Engebretson, I joined Suze for a few free brews at the beer tent. We were congratulated repeatedly. I called family to share the news. Facebook was blowing up with photos, comments and likes. Suze updated her profile with a life event: “Got engaged to Rob Buck.” That opened up the floodgates. And this is the woman who doesn’t post much on Facebook because, “I don’t want people to know my s***”?


Stunned indeed. 

Today's Stats (June 1, 2014)
Temp: 87 degrees F
Distance: 13.1 miles
Weekly Total: 16.95 miles
Treasure: Santa Claus decoration.


Time: 2:29:38 (2013 time: 2:33:48)
Pace: 11:26
Split: 1:09:45
Split Pace: 10:39
Overall: 134
Men 40-49: 19/21
Sex: 69/81

iPod Playlist (Shuffle):
Born to Run - Bruce Springsteen
The Ghost Song - The Doors
18 Wheeler - Pink
Put Your Lights On - Santana (Feat. Everlast)
Clarity - John Mayer
Bitch - Meredith Brooks
Drop Dead Legs - Van Halen
Trip Through Your Wires - U2
Just The Way You Are - Billy Joel
And It Stoned Me - Van Morrison
Wine Snacks (live banter) - Ryan Adams
Wouldn’t It Be Good - Nik Kershaw
Waitin’ On A Sunny Day - Bruce Springsteen
Push - Matchbox Twenty
The Woods - The Call
Happiness - The Fray
Valley Road - James McMurtry
Clarity - John Mayer
Here, There and Everywhere - The Beatles
Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Tears for Fears
Push (Acoustic Version) Avril Lavigne
I Just Want To See His Face - The Rolling Stones
Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own - U2
Bad Woman Blues - Trampled Under Foot
We Will Not Be Lovers - The Waterboys
Back To You - John Mayer
First Cut Is The Deepest  (Country Version) - Sheryl Crow
Saint Mary Of The Woods - James McMurtry
The Stranger - Billy Joel
Stars Tonight - Lady Antebellum
God Trying To Get Your Attention - Keb’ Mo’
The Star Spangled Banner - U2
Rhinestone Cowboy - Glen Campbell
Empty Sky - Bruce Springsteen
Who Needs Sleep? - Barenaked Ladies
Wishing It Was - Santana (Feat. Eagle Eye Cherry)
Roll With The Changes - REO Speedwagon

Thursday, April 24, 2014

The Shot Heard 'Round the Room

You’d think we would have known better. I’m not sure how old we were, but we were a couple of bright, but curious, boys. We really should have seen, er, heard what was coming.

My best friend, Chris Farrar, and I must have been in eighth grade, maybe ninth, when we found the 12-gauge shotgun shell. Maybe it was in the gutter along a street on our way home from Churchill Junior High — I don’t recall. But, unlike the spent shell I found on my run two weeks ago, this one was live ammo.
Lacking a shotgun to put the round to proper misuse, we decided to dismantle the shell to see just how it was made. We knew the basics, though I’m not sure if we’d already been through the hunter safety course taught by Vern Coates, one of our venerable Boy Scout leaders. But we wanted to see all the elements — powder, shot, wad, primer.

In the back room of my dad’s garage we used a sharp knife to slice through the plastic casing near the brass base of the shell. We dumped the shot — I don’t recall what size it was — extracted the wad and dumped the powder. I can’t imagine we didn’t burn the powder, but I have no recollection of doing so. Maybe we were chicken, fearful it would flash or flare and burn us or something. I don’t recall. But the primer seemed innocent enough…

Somehow we extracted the primer from the base of the shell and clamped it firmly in a pair of vice grips. One of us then held the vice grips and the other grabbed a punch and a hammer. Well, we had no idea that tiny primer would be so loud. I’m sure it was compounded by the confined space, and poor Chris managed to take the brunt in his left ear. I’m pretty sure his hearing was permanently, though not seriously, damaged.

Let that be a lesson to you, kids. Wear hearing protection when you do stupid stuff.

Today’s Stats (April 24, 2014)
Temp: 52 degrees F
Distance: 4.01 miles
Weekly Total: 8.92 miles
Treasure: 2 pennies, 1976 and 1981, both heads up (double good luck?)

iPhone Playlist (Matchbox Twenty Mix)
Black & White People
Angry
If You’re Gone
Someday
Snowblind
Bright Lights
Bent
Disease
Problem Girl
Streetcorner Symphony

Today’s Stats (April 22, 2014)
Temp: 55 degrees F
Distance: 4.82 miles
Weekly Total: 4.82 miles
Treasure: Nada. Didn’t look.

iPod Playlist (Shuffle)
Come Sail Away - Styx
Bed of Lies - Matchbox Twenty
Everybody Plays the Fool - The Main Ingredient
Bad Woman Blues - Trampled Under Foot
You Make Me Feel Like Dancing - Leo Sayer
I Was In The House When The House Burned Down - Warren Zevon
Bron-Yr-Aur - Led Zeppelin
Too Many Tears - The Call
When I Get Home  - The Beatles
Hung Up On You - Cake
Glad Tidings - Van Morrison
Radio - Matchbox Twenty
More Than A Feeling - Boston
Something 'Bout A Woman - Lady Antebellum
American Honey - Lady Antebellum

Today's Stats (April 9, 2014)
Temp: 39 degrees F (41 at end)
Distance: 4.2 miles
Weekly Total: 8.9 miles
Treasure: Nada. Didn’t look.
iPod Playlist (Shuffle):
Bigger Than My Body - John Mayer
Drop Dead Legs - Van Halen
Brick (Live) - Ben Folds
Catch My Disease - Ben Lee
Play That Funky Music - Wild Cherry
Best of Times - Styx
Dig A Pony - The Beatles
She’s A Beauty - The Tubes
I Should Have Known Better - The Beatles
I’m Only Sleeping - The Beatles

Today's Stats (April 7, 2014)
Temp: 46 degrees F (55 at end)
Distance: 4.7 miles
Weekly Total: 4.7 miles
Treasure: 51 cans; 1 spent 12-gauge shotgun shell
iPod Playlist (Yourself Or Someone Like You):
Real World
Long Day
3 AM
Push
Girl Like That
Back 2 Good
Damn
Argue
Busted
Shame
Hang
(Mad Season)
Angry
Black and White People
Crutch

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Running for a Reason


It’s time to start training. Of course, I never should have fallen out of training. But the sad fact is I got lazy this winter — and sometimes distracted. I haven’t been running regularly and now I’m paying for it. 

The founders of Asha for Life Community,
Tommy and Tom Colclasure and Harsha and
Shrikant Mehta, all of Galesburg.
Not only have I not run regularly, I have not run competitively (like I’m really a “competitor”) since the Bix last July. And now I’ve gone and committed to running the Run Galesburg Run Half Marathon Express again — yes, the whole half! I made the mistake of taking a poll on Facebook and none of my friends was kind enough to tell me the 5K was plenty. In their defense, they were all encouraging and supportive of my ability to complete the half.

Last year I ran my first half marathon and I survived. I was part of Team Acapulco, sponsored by Galesburg’s Acapulco Mexican restaurant. While I’d love to be a part of the team again, I’ve committed to a cause this year. I’m running for Team Asha. As the flyer says, “Join Team Asha and make a difference!”

Here’s the rest:

Help raise funds to aid in the battle against human trafficking and sexual slavery.
Sign up to participate June 1st 2014, in “Run Galesburg,” at rungalesburgrun.com
Join TEAM ASHA and ask your friends to family to sponsor you for the half marathon, 5 “K”, or mile dash.  Proceeds will support direct assistance to survivors of sexual slavery as well as fund human trafficking prevention effort.  Slavery in the world today is real!
Be a champion for freedom from human trafficking and sexual slavery!


An alley in the Mumbai, India red light
district. Brothelsl are accessed from
alleyways such as these. It is estimated
that in Mumbai alone 20,000 minor girls
are held captive in the sex trade.
I first heard about Asha for Life Community two years ago when my friend Tom “Tommy” Colclasure — along with his father and two other Galesburg residents — founded the organization after a trip to Mumbai, India. Tom and his dad, Tom Sr., were moved by the living conditions — “the crushing poverty” — they witnessed in Mumbai. Friends of theirs, Drs. Harsha and Shrikant Mehta, natives of Mumbai, informed them the real horror of life in Mumbai is human trafficking.

“We found that 1.25 million people are trafficked each year … hundreds of those a trapped in the sex slave trade,” Tom told The Register-Mail in a March 2012 story.

You can read more about Asha for Life Community here.

Anyway, when Tom posted on Facebook some months back that he was putting together Team Asha to run for a cause, I chimed in my support. So here’s the deal: I need your support, too. I am seeking pledges — by the mile (13.1, round it to 13) or a flat sum — as a member of Team Asha. The money you give will go toward the fight against human trafficking. That’ll help assuage my inevitably aching knee and heaving lungs — who isn’t rejuvenated and inspired by a warm-fuzzy feeling?

To pledge, email me at rob.buck7@gmail.com or send me a private message on Facebook and I’ll add you to the list. I’ll update this with information on when pledges are due as soon as I know.

To paraphrase Bartles and Jaymes: I thank you for your support.

Today's Stats (April 2, 2014)
Temp: 39 degrees F
Distance: 3.54 miles
Weekly Total: 3.54 miles
Treasure: 26 cans.

iPod Playlist (Shuffle):
Piano Man - Billy Joel
The Long Run - The Eagles
I Will - Matchbox Twenty
Alone Again (Naturally) - Gilbert O’Sullivan
Get It Straight - Trampled Under Foot
Hold My Hand - Hootie & the Blowfish
Bitch - Meredith Brooks
Reconsider Me - Warren Zevon
One Week - Barenaked Ladies
King Tut - Steve Martin
When Will You Come Back Home (live) - Ryan Adams

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Two weddings and two funerals


It dawned on me this week — two months from my eldest daughter’s wedding — that as father of the bride I will be expected to say something at the reception. I am more than a little nervous. So I did what everyone does these days — I googled “Father of the Bride speech.” In the top five hits were the intimidating: Father of the Bride Speech Has to Be Carefully Written; Best Father of the Bride Speech 2013 (YouTube); and the seemingly helpful: What Does the Father of the Bride Say in His Speech?

I guess the latter was genuinely helpful, offering up the basics in a single, if poorly punctuated, paragraph (thank you, Ask.com):

The bride’s father in his speech should act as the warm up man. He should give comprehensive introductory remarks and welcome the groom's family. He must also get the groom's name right, and should not indulge into embarrassing any person especially the x wife, His speech should also look to the future of the families.

I’ll bear that in mind.

About.com takes it a step further, providing three sample speeches. One presents the standard advice, and I wonder if I should deliver it out of tradition or skip it because it’s common wisdom.

Be true to each other always; share your joys and your burdens; love much and laugh much; be each other's best friend. Always speak well of one another, even in private. And when things don't go well, forgive as often as it is required. Married life is an adventure and you embark today on that adventure together. Even though you are individuals, your covenant today makes the couple more important than either of you separately.

I suppose the best plan is to dig deep into my heart and search for the words I want to impart to my daughter and son-to-be. I’m sure some will cover the common ground and I’ll be certain to remember the introductions and salutations, having been reminded by those Google answers.

I’ve delivered one wedding speech, as best man a year and a half ago, and two eulogies — for my best friend in 2010 and his father two years later. So this one will balance the scales. 

Now it’s time to start thinking.

Today's Stats (Saturday, March 22)
Temp: 33 degrees F
Distance: 3.99 miles
Weekly Total: 8.6 miles
Treasure: 33 cans

iPod Playlist (Shuffle):
Hard Day - George Michael
ThePromise - When In Rome
And Your Bird Can Sing - The Beatles
Time - Pink Floyd
The Battle of Evermore - Led Zeppelin
Peaceful Valley - Ryan Adams
Safe – Phil Wickham
Raspberry Beret - Warren Zevon
Catch MyDisease - Ben Lee

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Maybe better than beer


It’s no secret that I enjoy beer. But as an Irishman by heritage I am a little ashamed to confess I like something even more than beer around St. Patrick’s Day: Irish Soda Bread.

Technically I could procure soda bread any time at Uncle Billy’s Bakery, but I have to think about it and request it the day before. I have done that, but it requires thinking and remembering (I would feel bad if I ordered it and forgot to pick it up, though I’m sure somebody would buy it).

That’s the joy of March and St. Patty’s Day season. I know, since when did it become a whole season like Halloween and Christmas? Well, since the bakery started baking Irish Soda Bread at the start of the month. Anyway, I remembered that a week into the month and headed in for my fix. Since then I’ve been in about eight times, usually buying two loaves (are they loaves? Mini-loaves?) at a time — just in case. …

Now, it’s a little disappointing to learn that what Uncle Billy’s calls Irish Soda Bread isn’t traditional. It’s a variant. It may be a variant brought over by immigrants at least. But traditional Irish Soda Bread is a savory quick bread, not sweetened with dried fruit and sugar and filled with caraway seeds. Still, that’s the way I like it — dessert- or breakfast-like. And that’s how I enjoy it: breakfast, afternoon snack, lunch, dinner. I figure the fruit and seeds make it quasi-healthy.

So what’s the deal with Irish Soda Bread? I scoured the Internet in search of the story and found several. The best, which starts off with the information above — that United States “Irish soda bread” isn’t really Irish — was on Epicurious, which turned to chef/cooking teacher Rory O’Connell. With a name like that, I don’t really care what his credentials are, but O’Connell “also founded the renowned Ballymaloe Cookery School with his sister, Darina Allen, in 1983 — both continue to teach there and are regarded as two of the foremost experts on Irish cuisine and food history.

O’Connell tells us bread soda (baking soda) was introduced in the early 1800s, enabling those without an oven to make bread — cooked in a cast-iron pot with a lid, called a bastible (sounds like a Dutch oven). He goes on to explain that the addition of dried fruits — raises, currants, what-have-you — would have been a luxury.

For more on the bread, you can visit Epicurious. But I want to share this one question and answer, mostly because the loaves I’ve bought the past two days didn’t have the cross cut into the top, which made them slightly less fun to eat.

Epicurious: What is the purpose of cutting the shape of a cross on top of the bread?
Rory O'Connell:
It's scientific, primarily, because it allows the heat to penetrate into the thickest part of the bread, so it assists cooking. And obviously the cross is a cruciform shape, so in a Catholic country that had a resonance—it had the symbolic note of crossing the breads and giving thanks. There was also the expression "to let the devil out of the bread," so it was slightly superstitious. And if you make that cruciform shape on the bread, when it comes out of the oven it breaks beautifully. So you've got the blessing of the bread by putting the cross on it and then you've got the symbolic breaking of the bread.

Today's Stats (Tuesday, March 18, 2014)
Temp: 34 degrees F
Distance: 4.61 miles
Weekly Total: 4.61 miles
Treasure: Soda Bread! Bought Monday, St. Patrick’s Day.

iPod Playlist (Shuffle):
Soak UpThe Sun – Sheryl Crow
Saturday Night – Bay City Rollers
Sullivan Street – Counting Crows
Rhinestone Cowboy – Glen Campbell
Kelsey – Metro Station
Pour SomeSugar On Me – Def Leppard
What The Hell (Bimbo Jones Remix) – Avril Lavigne
Captain Jack – Billy Joel
I’ll Wait – Van Halen
Hold MyHand – Hootie & The Blowfish
Brandy (You’re A Fine Girl) – Looking Glass
What The Hell (Acoustic Version) – Avril Lavigne

Friday, March 7, 2014

Exercise hurts


It’s time for a little exercise. Yes, I know, I should include physical, but this time I’m going to stick to mental. I’m growing ragged, rusty — slack. I need to write.

George and Winnie in front of Toad Lake Town Hall.
Some people don’t understand bloggers — exposing our inner selves to the harsh, sadistic or just plain uncaring world around us. Sharing one’s life with the masses is dangerous. Nobody else needs to know, unless they’re a close friend, in which case they can ask.

That’s valid. Perfectly. I didn’t understand the concept when my former brother-in-law started a blog while in college several years ago. Why would you want to put yourself out there? Who besides family would care to read it anyway?

Some of us just need to do it. I don’t share everything. I have been perhaps too open with parts of my life and yet I’ve held back, too. And I’d just like to remind those folks that blogging doesn’t have to be personally revelatory.

How about I write about someone else’s life? Someone I don’t know. In fact, I’ll concoct their life from fragments I’ve seen through time. Remember those vacation slides from the 1950s and ’60s  — from Minnesota and Arizona? It took some digging to find those two entries; it was a year ago —— last February! Let’s explore some more of those photos…

George and Winnie loved Toad Lake, Minnesota. Bambi Resort beckoned every summer and they would pack up the Packard and join Lou and Mary and sometimes another couple or two and spend a week in the woods, fishing, frolicking in the lake and lounging around one of the rustic cabins. It's easy to see why they loved it there. The scenery is beautiful.

Bambi Resort, established in 1949, is on Toad Lake is situated between Detroit Lakes and Park Rapids just off Minnesota Highway 34 on the edge of Smokey Hills State Forest. Sometimes the “campers” would make a side trip to the state forest to walk the trails and scout wildlife. But most days they'd tool around the lake on a boat, looking like typical 1950s vacationers. 

Anyway, George and Winnie were boring old farts, so we may have to check on their friends later to see what fun they had at Bambi Resort.

p.s. I started this Thursday and didn’t finish. When I came home from work today I decided to go for a run — it was 44 degrees after all!

Today's Stats (March 7, 2014)
Temp: 44 degrees F
Distance: 3.47 miles
Weekly Total: 3.47 miles
Treasure: 22 cans.

iPod Playlist (Shuffle):
Trampled Under Foot – Led Zeppelin
Sarah – Ray LaMontagne
Helter Skelter (live) – U2
TheReflex – Duran Duran
Two of Us – The Beatles
Why Can’t This Be Love – Van Halen
O MaryDon’t You Weep (live) – Bruce Springsteen with The Sessions Band
Stuck in the Middle With You – Stealers Wheel
A Certain Girl – Warren Zevon