Boy, have I been lazy! Haven't updated in months and it's not like I'm never on the computer.

Well, the older boys and I did a relay triathlon about two weeks ago and they did pretty well. Zach did a good bike leg and Will nearly ran down a couple of adults.

I've added the picture: we're the handsome looking group in the shadow on the right.

RUNNING AT SCHOOL!

It was quite a day at Princeton Elementary on Tuesday.

The running club had invited some runners from the Brooks-Hanson's Olympic Distance Project(who live not far from us) over to talk with the kids about running.

Did they ever! They sent over Bob Busquaert, Luke Humphrey, and Brian Sell! Fresh from winning the USATF Team Relay Championship. They were all very nice and took questions from the kids for about ten minutes.

Sample questions:

How many pair of shoes do you own? (Answer- about 10 at a time- they each average about 25 pair a year.)

Have you ever run so hard you passed out? (yes)

Are there runners bigger than you? (some, but most are smaller)

Do you eat a lot? (Yes, we eat sleep and run)

Then they went behind the school and ran. Nothing fancy, they just joined in the bunch. Bob had quite a crew around him, as he was taking sprint challenges (and he managed to lose every one!), Brian and Luke liked the run on grass and followed the kids to avoid the ruts and holes. I even managed to keep up with them for a brief lap. However, the batteries in may camera did give out, so I was only able to get a couple of snaps.

Afterwards, they came in and answered more questions in the gym. Much to my joy, my kids brought water over for them and told them that they could beat dad in a 5K. Well, they are faster.

The guys all signed autographs for anyone who asked, and had their picture taken with the kids.

It was a great day (80F) to run, and the company made it memorable.

Something utterly pointless and rather morbid. I heard something to the effect that the famous Ms Spears is rocketing up the dead pool ratings.

On the day dedicated to lovers, there's a piece over at Salon.com about the unbridled love of freedom that some neocons have for folks who disagree with them.


Frank Gaffney, apparently someone well connected and having a big mouth, repeats word attempted to be put in the mouth of Abe Lincoln by J. Micheal Waller (is it true, as Cactus Ed stated, you can always tell an asshole by the way he has an initial in front of his name?)

"Still, as the U.S. House of Representatives and Senate engage in interminable debate about resolutions whose effects can only be to "damage morale and undermine the military" while emboldening our enemies, it is time to reflect on what constitutes inappropriate behavior in time of war. . . ."

Is it more damaging to morale to know the folks at home are concerned with what is going on after a degree of bungling that, if had been the case in WWII, would have us being ruled by the Tenth Reich under Wolfgang Speer and Nobby Bormann?

And on to bigger things:
"...what contitutes inappropriate behavior in time of war..."

Does every sport ute NOT put money into the hands of those who hate us?
Why are we not worrying about getting our own house in order? Could we afford a serious war?
Why has no one sent ms. P Hilton on a USO tour of Afghanistan? Baghdad? Teheran?

Funny, I don't remeber it like this...

I'm now back into serious traing for a month. B signed both of us up for the local powershack gym (thanks sweetie), and I've been hitting it pretty regularly. I', trying to hit the weights 3x a week and any spin and yoga classes I can manage to make.

Karl, the spin dude, is getting used to me. I do stuff a little differently, and can't quite shake all my road habits (quiet body, keeping the bars under full control at all times, that sort of stuff). I've only been able to make two yoga classes, and that controlled breathing and deep relaxation period at the end may, and I"m not sure, have allowed me to drop off completely two weeks ago.

I got excited reading clm's report of the ultra she did in AZ over the weekend. I'd hoped to go skiing up north, buth with herself getting home from traveling late Friday, weekend travel was really not going to happen. I'm looking around for some events close, but haven't found any yet.

Yippe. Now we can get on to the Christmas advertising.

As of now (10 A.M.) it appears the donks may just have gotten both houses on the hill. I see the hardcore bloggers of both stripes are going nuts. The righties think we can expect an al-Qaeda victory parade in D.C. sometime in February. The serious lefties think the hill can make his befuddleldness toe the line. (Seriously, does anyone really think that he really cares what congress thinks? His plans to expand presidential power choose to ignore the hill whenever possible.)

What is to be done now. Well, the hill we get more than a little aggressive. Should the GOP be thankful they didn't do away with the filibuster? As of now (and I will admit to being poorly informed- rare in a blogger) I don't see anything epic compared the Newtness' first two weeks, but let's see how this plays out over the month. And let's see if talk radio has another coronary.

Half the silliest distance known to man...
Executive Version: 2:47:17 Ran faster than ever before. Still sore after. Had great time.

Overblown version: It's been a while since I'd done any distance at this race. Last year I ran the 5K with one of my kids. This year, I'd set it as a goal for the year, and despite a serious training gap in the summer, I went into it with a good mind frame.

We got the whole house moving on time. (Thankfully, the switch of the clocks hit the night before the race this year, giving us all an extra hour of rest.) Will and Zach were going to run the 5K, and I was running the half, so we had a little bit of wandering around to do before we headed off to our starting points. We ran into Zach's teacher, who was running the half as well, and got a picture of all of us. Her spouseness and the kids then took off for the 5K starting area.

I'd set 2:45 for my target time, and found my way to my corral.Once I got there, I found a friendly octogenarian from Toronto who's husband was up ahead trying to qualify for Boston, a runner who'd traveled from Chicago just to run into Canada, and a TNT runner who was in the opening act up pre-race freak out. We got him calmed down and (apparently) convinced he could do it.

The gun went off and we started to putter along, working our way towards the start. It took only about 7-8 minutes to get out.The first mile flew. I kept myself reined in, and fought every urge to pick up some speed on the straight run after the first turn. We ran by old Tiger Stadium (where they used to play), and along the bricks of Bricktown. Had to watch footing here a little, but it wasn't bad. I skipped the first two water stations, and thankfully did not need to use the portajohns (the lines were incredible!) .

After the two mile mark, we turned into our first really mean shock: Mexicantown. Not the town itself, but the vendors selling chorizo and egg burritos to the spectators. I would have stopped too, but thankfully for my race, I only had $2 (in both US and Canadian) with me. Kept going and got some water before the climb onto the bridge.

At mile 3, we start to climb the Ambassador Bridge. Its about 130 feet over just under a mile. Game plan: walk the climb. It's early. Save yourself. The actual result: Well, whatdy'a know. I stuck to the plan. Walk briskly, and run if you start to tighten or see a nice gap ahead. Cross into Canada and start the downhill. Run gently. Don't go too hard. Remember you have another hill not unlike this to go.We hit the bottom of the ramp, turn around and start running back along the bridge footings. Ahead in the water station at mile 5. I get out my first gel and down it, getting ready for water. I see the water station. I don't see any people with cups. I don't see any water either. It seems this station was under stored. I didn't panic, but was definitely concerned. What if this goes on? How do I adjust? It does give me something to mentally work with for the next mile.

The next water station is up, running and being serenaded by pipers. There's an older (70's) couple waving St Andrew's Flag. I look around me to start getting ready to go to the table, and I see the man slip while stepping off the curb and he goes right down on his side. I stop. I saw my granddad do this and was hurt really bad. The wife yells and I try to see if he's OK. The runner behind me also stops to help. We start yelling for help from the water station just ahead and a couple of cops, volunteers and spectators all run over. We get him up, he starts cussing left and right and after a quick "thanks" we're all on our way. I guess I lost a minute or so, and walked through the aid station then got back on my horse.

I continued along Riverside Dr, and come up to an older man (mid 60's) walking backwards with the race. I see he's wearing a Minnesota Viking's cap. I go to run by, and his number catches my eye. More specifically, the name on it: Barringer. I ask, "You wouldn't be Leland would you?". "Yes, how did you know?" "I have the same last name as you." "Oh, so you must be related to Jed" It turns out we are cousins of some sort.I first found out about him last year while searching for results, and I saw at the expo his name on the sheet. Never thought I'd bump into him.We spend the next two miles trying to figure out exactly how we're related. His dad and my grandad are brothers . (Maybe) He'd been trying to stretch out some tight quads while walking backwards.

We ran along the river, made the turn inland to go to the tunnel entrance and his the next big surprise.We can see the old Art-Deco "Tunnel to U.S.A." signs, and are getting cheered on by some loud, happy, and (excuse the blatant whatever) pretty women. They are making more noise and going crazier than any other station so far. I wonder why. Then another whiff hits my nose. Coffee. Fried stuff.I clear the last of them, and there, for all to behold, is the answer: Tim Horton's! And what do my wondering eyes see at the side of the road in an unofficial aid station? TIMBITS being handed out. I get a chocolate one and make the turn into the tunnel.

Now the tunnel makes this really interesting. It is exactly one mile underwater. There are mats at the beginning and end, and our certificates will have our underwater times on them. Leland and I run along, still trying to figure out our relatives until we start to climb out. The Timbit is surging through me, so we say good byes and I run up to the surface. I know there's a water station after the turn, so I get my other gel ready.

Mile 9. Water table, gel and where did this headwind come from? The empty cups from the runners ahead of me are being blown back at us. I get the gel down and switch to Gatorade. Even with the gels, I feel the energy starting to slip a little. We turn onto the road which drops down to the river, using part of the old downtown Formula One course. I run a good racing line down the hill and turn right back into the headwind. My feet hurt a little and I really want to make good time for the last mile or so, so I walk and run. Get through the windy patch behind Joe Louis arena, make it over the 6th street bridge, back into Bricktown again and then back to Michigan Avenue.

The wind is at my back and it's mostly straight to the finish area. I get a cup of Gatorade at each table now, hoping the calories will keep the energy burning. At 11 miles, were have a polka band playing "All my exes live in Texas" and cheerleaders handing out cookies. Hey, it helped.Mile 12. This was (such as it was) the low point. No death march problems, but more of a "I'm really hungry- Will there be poutine and ribs at the finish?" I get a last dose of Gatorade, and am told it's not far now. Good, because the person in front of me is starting to look like a cheeseburger.

Luckily, I refrain, and turn back onto Woodward Ave. Mitch Ryder is serenading the crowd, and Bob Seger is there. (There were no Kid Rock sighting though.) I get to the split: "Marathoner' s to the right, Half Marathoners to the left" Veer left. Past the Music Hall, Opera House and Comerica Park. Turn left and see the ramp down to Ford Field.

"Half Marathoners keep left" Check. I see someone from my tri Club. I yell "Hey there Infinite!" I think it was Paul. Hit the tunnel.Down the tunnel. The quads burn and its dark after being out on a Sunny day.Hit the opening of the tunnel. Out onto the field, give it everything you have left. I look up and see Barb (Superwife and Sherpa deluxe- thanks dear) waving in her Red Wings shirt. Turn in time to smile as I cross the finish. Stop watch. 2:47:17. Beats old 1/2 'thon time by 17 minutes. Pretty good day.

This race has one more trick. I get my tag clipped, pass on the mylar blanket and find my son's teacher. I get a cup of water and start looking for food. I see the sign "Food, massage and gear at the concourse" Up the stairs. all 79 of them. Oh well, no rush, just take your time and don't trip and look foolish. I even managed that !Lesson's Learned: I think I'd need to switch to gels every three miles, just to avoid energy concerns. Maybe, but only maybe, carry a bottle with me. And perhaps, train a little more next summer. See if I can knock another 17 minutes off my PR.