Wed. September 22

12 miles.

Super hot, super humid, super windy.

Not a fun day to run. I should be getting up earlier.

Note to the country yokels who think they own the gravel roads : YOU DON'T OWN THE ROAD. Your driveway is your property. The county road...not so much.

Last time I checked, taxes go towards county road maintenance. I pay city, county, and state taxes, and I have as much right to run on the road as you have to drive on it.

If Lincolnites adopted the same attitude as some (luckily, a minority) of these people, every time I saw a dusty pickup driving on paved city roads, we'd flip the drivers the finger, swerve at them, and back up and gesture menacingly every time we saw them.

This problem was even worse during Bohemian Alps. It's like the locals are angry that other people are out on "their" roads.

I take extra care to stay out of the way of traffic. I get off of the road when I see cars coming. You'd think that drivers would appreciate my efforts, but a good 20% of them take the presence of another human being on "their" roads as some sort of affront.

Grow up. Really.

Heat makes me pissed off, too.

Tuesday September 20

16 miles.

80 degrees with 90% humidity. No thanks.

Swarmed by flies and mosquitoes. Is this July?

I am no biologist, but I swear I had a bizarre mosquito about an inch long trying to bite me. That can't be possible in Nebraska, can it?

I am a little tired mentally at this point. I have other things I need to be doing.

But there are less than 5 weeks of training left so I will just keep staggering along.

Monday September 20

Saturday: 32 miles

Sunday: 17 miles

Saturday was race day at the Bohemian Alps up by Brainard. The whole day was a pretty awesome experience.

The race starts right outside the race director's (Dale's) house. There were maybe 25 people there. I spotted the eventual winner immediately -- an intense guy wearing a Grateful Dead shirt. He jetted from the start and won by at least 10 minutes (4:10, I think). He was obviously sizing up his competition before the start and when he made eye contact with me I gave him the "please don't hurt me" look. I was groggy and not even thinking about "racing."

I ran a 5:23, and honestly I ran harder than I wanted to, as this was supposed to be a relaxed training run. But the course was so varied and so fun, and the weather was so cool that I couldn't resist picking up the pace for a few stretches. In spite of the chill I got really hot, and I wound up as the only runner not wearing a shirt. I got laughed at a lot for that. I also got burned in spite of the heavy cloud cover.

The course was the best I've run. In my (very limited) experience, it was a cross between a harder version of the Heartland 50 miler and a slightly easier version of the Rockin' K marathon. The road was almost always up and down, never level -- through the whole race there were maybe six miles of flats. Everything else was either hills or offroad on a horse trail paralleling the limestone bike path. The trail portions weren't as steep as Rockin' K, with mild technical portions.

Water was in pretty good supply along the route but I found myself wishing more of the jugs had contained Gatorade, and there weren't as many snacks as I expected. Fortunately, Rebecca was there with everything I needed.

All in all, this is (surprisingly) the most fun I've had at a race. And it's 30 minutes from home! That's so cool.

Along the way, we ran through Loma, which isn't on the map. Fairly bizarre place plunked off of the highway, and it has a saloon -- the Bar-M Corral. I thought I had already frequented every local establishment just north of Branched Oak, but I had no idea this place even existed. The town (maybe 30 people?) certainly can't support a local business so they must draw locals from Brainard.

The whole place was suspiciously, eerily atmospheric and I had to do some research to put all of the pieces together. I've been to a lot of small towns but they never exude this much character in the span of two blocks.

After some googling, I found that the Patrick Swazye/Wesley Snipes flick "To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar" was filmed in Loma in 1995. Bits of the set still remain, which add to the weird visual juxtaposition of stumbling upon an unmapped town in nowhere, Nebraska.

Weirdness rules.

Tuesday, September 14

10 miles on Sunday. 12 today.

I drank a Red Bull on my way to my starting point. Two miles in, my head was spinning, my heart was racing, and in the heat and humidity I could hardly walk. Running wasn't even an option.

It took 10 minutes in the shade before I could stumble onward.

How I ever survived Lunar Trek (32 miles) in 80% humidity, while metabolizing not one, but FIVE Red Bulls, is beyond me. No wonder I almost broke down tears.

Neil still sucks.

Week of September 5 to 11

62 miles.

Battled my sinuses, coughing and sneezing all week long. Doctor suspects that I am developing allergies to autumn crap, which subsequently turned into a sinus infection.

I find very little joy in running while I'm sick. Add 90 degree temperatures. Not a fun combination.

But Race #1 of the Fall Series is this upcoming Saturday!

Jen is a wussy and won't run with me even though she copped out of the Omaha Marathon. That's a Neil Diamond fan for you.

Sep. 7

12 miles.

Boston and crap

I've only managed 26 miles in the past 8 or 9 days.

I did get in 20 in Boston, which was fun. It was hard running not knowing where I was going most of the time and I got tired of messing with maps. I did get to run through Harvard and then also down to a fort on Boston Harbor.

I missed the chance to run out in Scottsbluff while we were there. That made me sad because I always like running through the stench of a nice slaughterhouse.

But really, the past 10 days on warp drive have caught up with me. I'm hacking up green stuff and generally just not well. Hopefully I will get out tomorrow at some point.