The Agenda

It is Saturday morning and things have finally slowed down a bit. We had revival at church the last three nights, and I was privileged to preach. I enjoyed the job tremendously, and it served me as a spiritual tune up, so to speak. But now, with the rain hitting the awnings outside our bedroom window, I am pecked at the computer, sipping coffee that tastes like it was made for a king, and wondering why my cats aren't relaxing with me.

Training wise, it's been a slack week, but that is OK because I needed a drop down cycle anyway. Starting Monday, however, I plan to see how many miles I can run in my last big training week before The Great Noxapater Journey Run, which is scheduled to begin November 19th. That is a Thursday, and I have to work that day, but I plan to leave a little early and hit the road by noon. For the first day, I have the modest goal of making it to Carrollton, MS. The plan, the agenda is as follows:

Day One: Greewood to Carrollton (approximately 25 miles)
Day Two: Carrollton to Winona (approximately 17 miles)
Day Three: Winona to French Camp (approximately 27 miles)
Day Four: French Camp to Ackerman (? 22-25 miles ?)
Day Five: Ackerman to Noxapater with a stop at George's grave in Louisville (25 miles)

Total: 117 miles, give or take ten.

I don't know all the distances, but I know roughly how far is is from town to town. The roads I run won't necessarily be the ones I travel by truck, so Google Maps is of no value here. I will know how far the trip is when I finish, unless I make another drive between now and then just to measure things.

I've worked out a couple of my logistical issues. One issue I had was where to stay in Ackerman. There is a motel there, but I once dropped in to get a phone number. The lobby was dimly lit and literally filled with furniture parts from floor to ceiling. Literally. The proprietor came from a back room and seemed irritated, agitated, and suspicious of me. His big brown bug eyes were frightening, and I glanced at his hands half expecting to see blood dripping from his fingers. I got the distinct impression that I had interrupted him from dismembering a human body in the back room from whence he came. When I left, he glared out at me from a window. He was so creepy that I became frightened while I drove away in my truck, and no I am not exaggerating, and no I am not writing this for Halloween. 

For two years I have tried unsuccessfully to secure lodging in the area from someplace other than the Ackerman Motel. Recently, I passed and noticed the place had been painted on the outside, and for the first time in over fifty years I saw they had guests. A family of ordinary-looking people were unpacking their car getting ready for a stay in downtown Ackerman. I decided then I might make it two in fifty plus years. I will still, however, be praying and looking for another way.

The second logistical issue that is solved is the ride home. In the past, I would have called Dad. The run ends at his sister's house. Since he passed, the issue of whom to call for help has come up several times. When my truck broke down a few months back, I pulled my phone out to call my old standby, Roger Hodge. To make a short story long, I cried the rest of the day. My go-to guy now is my brother-in-law, RT. He helped me cut the magnolia tree in our front yard and he has agreed to drive over and pick me up. He's a good man, and Luvie just climbed up on the bed with me. Let the relaxing begin.