How many?
Four.
Four?
Yes.
I don't believe you.
Well it's not the first time.
Not the first time what? That I didn't believe you or that you did four?
Yes.
Huh?
Let me tell you about it. It started with a run, not a long one, but one that I needed to make to stay on track for my goal of the week. I shuffled 3.61 miles to bring my week's total to 25.9. And I still have two days to go. Since I did not lift Wednesday, I needed to do legs and pushes. The problem was that it was Thursday and a full scale leg workout would not give me time to recover by Saturday which is when I usually go heavy on the lower body. What to do? I did deadlifts which work the legs but place more of the strain on the low back. In fact, I set a new Association of Sports Strongmen world record by pulling 200 pounds.
OK, that is two. How did you get two more.
The run and the deadlifts were in the morning. After lunch I did my benches and accessory work. On the bench, I pressed
12 X 100
8 X 115
6 X 130
5 X 140
Three down and one to go.
So you went to the pool, right?
Right. I did a straight swim, my second one of the week. This time, I went 100 meters farther than I did Monday. I did 5,200 in 2:04:34 at 2:11 per 100. That made four. What do you think about that, Randy Beets?
Thank you, Jesus, for four solid workouts in one day.
Friday, July 31, 2020
Thursday, July 30, 2020
14/14
Wednesday I only did two, but they were a big two: a fourteen/fourteen. What do you think about that, Randy Beets? Oh, you don't know what I'm talking about. Let me explain.
I did my usual delicious lounging. CC has come back to me. She even slept with me that Tuesday night. Not on me like in the past, but on the bed with me. Last night she slept on me. It's like old times.
So when I hit the road at 9:08 a.m., that was early considering how the cats were being sweet and the coffee tasted exquisitely fine. The sky was overcast and the prediction was for a high of only 88 by 3:00 p.m. I would be finished long before that.
With the heavy clouds, I went straight out Money Road. When I run long, I like a long road. Around here, that road is called Money. But this time of year, I rarely run more than a few miles on it because there is no shade and the heat is just too much.
I had in mind going fourteen miles and change. Before leaving, I eagerly flipped through me training diary to see how far over fourteen I had gone this year. I flipped and flipped and flipped. Nada. I was sure I had done fourteen at least a couple of times, but my records said otherwise. It has been on my mind so much that I thought I had done it. Several times I left the house this year with the purpose of running that far but somehow I always failed to do it.
Not this time. I went one way for 7.13 miles. That ensured fourteen plus unless I caught a ride home. I did not catch a ride home. I started the run slow and continually slowed the pace as I went along finishing at a tempo most people can walk. But I did 14.26 miles. That should move the needle.
At the Hideout, I cooled, drank milk, and ate lunch. Then I reclined on the couch with CC, and we watched the Paul Finebaum Show. I am now convinced that major college football will start this fall, but the season will be a train wreck of cancelled games, rescheduling, and contentious ratings. I plan to run not watch.
I needed to lift, to work legs, but I needed to swim more. With Chicot coming, swimming takes priority. Since the legs were pretty much blown out anyway, I went to the pool late, after 6:00. I had it all to myself. I did not swim far. After a long warm up of 1,300 meters, I swam a mere 2 X 50 and called it a day. With 1,400 meters to go along with my fourteen miles, I had a solid 14/14 day. What do you think about that, Randy Beets?
Thank you, Jesus, for a solid day that outdistances my nemesis.
I did my usual delicious lounging. CC has come back to me. She even slept with me that Tuesday night. Not on me like in the past, but on the bed with me. Last night she slept on me. It's like old times.
So when I hit the road at 9:08 a.m., that was early considering how the cats were being sweet and the coffee tasted exquisitely fine. The sky was overcast and the prediction was for a high of only 88 by 3:00 p.m. I would be finished long before that.
With the heavy clouds, I went straight out Money Road. When I run long, I like a long road. Around here, that road is called Money. But this time of year, I rarely run more than a few miles on it because there is no shade and the heat is just too much.
I had in mind going fourteen miles and change. Before leaving, I eagerly flipped through me training diary to see how far over fourteen I had gone this year. I flipped and flipped and flipped. Nada. I was sure I had done fourteen at least a couple of times, but my records said otherwise. It has been on my mind so much that I thought I had done it. Several times I left the house this year with the purpose of running that far but somehow I always failed to do it.
Not this time. I went one way for 7.13 miles. That ensured fourteen plus unless I caught a ride home. I did not catch a ride home. I started the run slow and continually slowed the pace as I went along finishing at a tempo most people can walk. But I did 14.26 miles. That should move the needle.
At the Hideout, I cooled, drank milk, and ate lunch. Then I reclined on the couch with CC, and we watched the Paul Finebaum Show. I am now convinced that major college football will start this fall, but the season will be a train wreck of cancelled games, rescheduling, and contentious ratings. I plan to run not watch.
I needed to lift, to work legs, but I needed to swim more. With Chicot coming, swimming takes priority. Since the legs were pretty much blown out anyway, I went to the pool late, after 6:00. I had it all to myself. I did not swim far. After a long warm up of 1,300 meters, I swam a mere 2 X 50 and called it a day. With 1,400 meters to go along with my fourteen miles, I had a solid 14/14 day. What do you think about that, Randy Beets?
Thank you, Jesus, for a solid day that outdistances my nemesis.
Wednesday, July 29, 2020
Fascinating Dream
I had another one of those dreams that I have had before. Or at least I think I have had it or parts of it. I was on my old job with All-Delta Pest Control. We were in the country, in the delta, and we stopped at a hunting club house. The house was an old shotgun one, and while we were there, I thought, this would be a good place to park and run. I was looking at a road that wound off in the distance leading to a small delta town. In the other direction, one road split from another and disappeared into the horizon. I can get all the miles I want right here, was my conclusion.
Then I was in a truck with Bruce Boyd, whom I haven't seen in twenty years, and we were going to get some gas. We went to a shell of a delta town. Everything was closed. Then we were at a church. Again, we were in the wide open delta. The church was aged but ornate. The weathered red brick made it look as old as the pyramids. There were some people there, and I asked if we could go inside.
Inside, I began to talk with a stocky red-haired woman who was about my age. I asked he about the hunting camp and if any of the men in the church were members. She informed me that all the men in the church were members of that hunting club. Cha ching!
Then I began to tell to her how I wanted to park at the clubhouse and run. "I am a long distance runner," I explained. The doubt in her eyes made me try harder. "I leave a card on my dashboard with my name and phone number on it," I pleaded.
"So they can call you later?"
"So they can call me right then if they want to." She was mistrustful. "Is your husband a member?"
"I don't know," was her answer after telling me earlier that all the men in that church were members of the hunting club. I felt a disappointment and a bit of desperation. Such an opportunity slipping away. Then I woke up.
I find this dream fascinating for several reasons. One is the clarity of the pictures. Sometimes I have dreams where everything is blurry. Not this time. It was like watching a movie on a good TV.
The colors were also astounding. I read somewhere that people don't dream in color. I know, however, that I often do. The bricks of the church were a fiery red and the red hair of the woman was tame in comparison.
Also, I felt in this dream. I felt excitement, anxiety, and disappointment. I don't remember feeling in a dream before. Then there was the idea that I had had this dream before. But I am not sure about that. All in all, it was one that caused me to think about it for a long time after I awoke this morning.
Then I was in a truck with Bruce Boyd, whom I haven't seen in twenty years, and we were going to get some gas. We went to a shell of a delta town. Everything was closed. Then we were at a church. Again, we were in the wide open delta. The church was aged but ornate. The weathered red brick made it look as old as the pyramids. There were some people there, and I asked if we could go inside.
Inside, I began to talk with a stocky red-haired woman who was about my age. I asked he about the hunting camp and if any of the men in the church were members. She informed me that all the men in the church were members of that hunting club. Cha ching!
Then I began to tell to her how I wanted to park at the clubhouse and run. "I am a long distance runner," I explained. The doubt in her eyes made me try harder. "I leave a card on my dashboard with my name and phone number on it," I pleaded.
"So they can call you later?"
"So they can call me right then if they want to." She was mistrustful. "Is your husband a member?"
"I don't know," was her answer after telling me earlier that all the men in that church were members of the hunting club. I felt a disappointment and a bit of desperation. Such an opportunity slipping away. Then I woke up.
I find this dream fascinating for several reasons. One is the clarity of the pictures. Sometimes I have dreams where everything is blurry. Not this time. It was like watching a movie on a good TV.
The colors were also astounding. I read somewhere that people don't dream in color. I know, however, that I often do. The bricks of the church were a fiery red and the red hair of the woman was tame in comparison.
Also, I felt in this dream. I felt excitement, anxiety, and disappointment. I don't remember feeling in a dream before. Then there was the idea that I had had this dream before. But I am not sure about that. All in all, it was one that caused me to think about it for a long time after I awoke this morning.
Big Pool Again
The pool was empty when I arrived, but some teenage couples got in before I left. They didn't bother me nor I them. It was another good swim, not as big as yesterday, but it had some volume and some quality. However, as the good witch in The Wizard of Oz says, "It's good to start at the beginning."
The beginning was another lazy one, one of satisfied lounging, nice-tasting coffee drinking, and affectionate cat petting. Also I finished up a YouTube video I started the night before. Right now I don't even remember what it was, but I thought it important at the time.
Finally, I dragged out of bed and dressed for a run. I did not go far, 3.63 miles, but I measured another 2.5 and I thought of two more while I ran. I have all four of them now. (more about that in another post)
When I finished running, there was still more than an hour before lunch so I went to Monroe and mowed the lawn. I thought that was a pretty productive morning. I did my usual lounging, which is important, my run, and a needed mow job.
After lunch, I rested but not as long as yesterday. In an attempt to give myself more recovery time, I was in the gym by 2:30. Since it was pull day, I warmed up with a set of one-armed rows (14 X 40) and then went into my Lenny rows for:
18 X 105
17 X 115
16 X 125
15 X 130
12 X 135
I also did reverse flys with the red cord, rotator cuff work, and face pulls. Then it was time for nutrition and hydration.
At the pool, I swam
1,200 28:16 for a warmup. Then I did three 200s on 4:35. Long course 200s are though. After three, I had had enough of those. To rest, I swam an easy 300, then went into a set of 150s with small paddles. I rested :30 between the 150s and did six of them. I rested more with an easy 400, and my last set was 100s with medium paddles :30 between each rep. I only did six of the 100s because I was getting tired. The cool down was an easy 200. All of that gave me 4,200 meters.
So it was another big day, a three-workout day, and the swim was Chicot worthy. Thank you, Jesus.
The beginning was another lazy one, one of satisfied lounging, nice-tasting coffee drinking, and affectionate cat petting. Also I finished up a YouTube video I started the night before. Right now I don't even remember what it was, but I thought it important at the time.
Finally, I dragged out of bed and dressed for a run. I did not go far, 3.63 miles, but I measured another 2.5 and I thought of two more while I ran. I have all four of them now. (more about that in another post)
When I finished running, there was still more than an hour before lunch so I went to Monroe and mowed the lawn. I thought that was a pretty productive morning. I did my usual lounging, which is important, my run, and a needed mow job.
After lunch, I rested but not as long as yesterday. In an attempt to give myself more recovery time, I was in the gym by 2:30. Since it was pull day, I warmed up with a set of one-armed rows (14 X 40) and then went into my Lenny rows for:
18 X 105
17 X 115
16 X 125
15 X 130
12 X 135
I also did reverse flys with the red cord, rotator cuff work, and face pulls. Then it was time for nutrition and hydration.
At the pool, I swam
1,200 28:16 for a warmup. Then I did three 200s on 4:35. Long course 200s are though. After three, I had had enough of those. To rest, I swam an easy 300, then went into a set of 150s with small paddles. I rested :30 between the 150s and did six of them. I rested more with an easy 400, and my last set was 100s with medium paddles :30 between each rep. I only did six of the 100s because I was getting tired. The cool down was an easy 200. All of that gave me 4,200 meters.
So it was another big day, a three-workout day, and the swim was Chicot worthy. Thank you, Jesus.
Tuesday, July 28, 2020
A Nice One
God's brush strokes adorned the evening sky as birds silently flew across His handiwork. The pool was calm and so was I. "Finally," I said to myself as I reveled in this magical moment. "That swim will move the needle," I muttered as I made my way out the gate, into my truck, and drove home. But, I get ahead of myself. That was the end of the third workout of the day. Let me roll the tape back to the beginning.
The beginning of Monday was typical. Yeah, you know it. Coffee, cats, lounging, and blogging. Only later, when the coffee pot was dry did I venture outdoors for a shuffle. I went 4.41 miles, purposefully just a little farther than the same day last week. This time I went down on the riverbank, to the trail and enjoyed the trees, the shade, and the birds. They, the birds, flew up ahead of me into the safety of the branches. The Hideout is not far from this trail, and it is becoming a favorite of mine.
Lunch and naps followed. Then the heavens opened, and it rained really hard. I went to Plate City with delight. Rain does not stop me anymore. I unhooked Pee Wee, and he seemed to enjoy the ambiance of hanging out under the tin top as much as I did. He was constantly on guard, his bright eyes scanning the trees and he both found and barked at squirrels. Since it was push day, I hit the bench press for
16 X 102
14 X 107
13 X 112
11 X 117
That is a drop of a full set. I also dropped a set on the Viking press and pushed
16 X 45
15 X 50
Of course I did lots of rotator cuff work and some neck work. The dropped sets are to save some energy for the pool. Usually I swim then lift, but after my experience with the coughing spell last week, I want to get into the outdoor pool. Even if there are toxic gasses there, the breeze will blow them away. Thus, I had to swim after 5:00 p.m.
It was almost 6:00 before I made it to the pool. Mine, it was all mine. The rain had cooled the water by about one half of a degree. I swam, easy, and long, sort of long. A straight swim is what I did and the longest since the early spring. I went 5,100 meters. Wait, didn't you swim 5,100 last week? Yes, I swam 5,100 yards, short course yards. There is a big difference.
The difference between meters and yards is only 9.14 percent in terms of distance. But in terms of stroke volume, the difference is almost thirty percent. In a short course pool, I take 19 strokes per 25 yards or 38 per 50 yards. In a long course pool, I take 52 strokes per 50 meters. That is a difference of 14 per 50 or 28 per 100.
But how can that be? you question. In a short course pool, you flip and glide every 25 yards. That is two flips and two glides per 50. In a long course pool, you flip and glide once every 50 meters. The difference is profound. Besides the difference in stroke numbers, in a short course pool, your muscles are getting a rest, a short one, but a rest nonetheless, every 25 yards. For endurance, long course is king.
Satisfaction is what I felt while I put my shoes on and prepared to leave Twin Rivers. That one swim will not answer the problem, but it is the opening sentence in an essay to be written in my muscles over the next eight weeks. If the writing is good, the swim will be fun. If the writing is poor, the swim will be a struggle, a sufferfest, a quandary of wondering why, why am I doing this? I like to have fun. Help me Lord, to write well this story over the next two months. And help me to raise funds for the worthy charity, the Diabetes Foundation of Mississippi.
The beginning of Monday was typical. Yeah, you know it. Coffee, cats, lounging, and blogging. Only later, when the coffee pot was dry did I venture outdoors for a shuffle. I went 4.41 miles, purposefully just a little farther than the same day last week. This time I went down on the riverbank, to the trail and enjoyed the trees, the shade, and the birds. They, the birds, flew up ahead of me into the safety of the branches. The Hideout is not far from this trail, and it is becoming a favorite of mine.
Lunch and naps followed. Then the heavens opened, and it rained really hard. I went to Plate City with delight. Rain does not stop me anymore. I unhooked Pee Wee, and he seemed to enjoy the ambiance of hanging out under the tin top as much as I did. He was constantly on guard, his bright eyes scanning the trees and he both found and barked at squirrels. Since it was push day, I hit the bench press for
16 X 102
14 X 107
13 X 112
11 X 117
That is a drop of a full set. I also dropped a set on the Viking press and pushed
16 X 45
15 X 50
Of course I did lots of rotator cuff work and some neck work. The dropped sets are to save some energy for the pool. Usually I swim then lift, but after my experience with the coughing spell last week, I want to get into the outdoor pool. Even if there are toxic gasses there, the breeze will blow them away. Thus, I had to swim after 5:00 p.m.
It was almost 6:00 before I made it to the pool. Mine, it was all mine. The rain had cooled the water by about one half of a degree. I swam, easy, and long, sort of long. A straight swim is what I did and the longest since the early spring. I went 5,100 meters. Wait, didn't you swim 5,100 last week? Yes, I swam 5,100 yards, short course yards. There is a big difference.
The difference between meters and yards is only 9.14 percent in terms of distance. But in terms of stroke volume, the difference is almost thirty percent. In a short course pool, I take 19 strokes per 25 yards or 38 per 50 yards. In a long course pool, I take 52 strokes per 50 meters. That is a difference of 14 per 50 or 28 per 100.
But how can that be? you question. In a short course pool, you flip and glide every 25 yards. That is two flips and two glides per 50. In a long course pool, you flip and glide once every 50 meters. The difference is profound. Besides the difference in stroke numbers, in a short course pool, your muscles are getting a rest, a short one, but a rest nonetheless, every 25 yards. For endurance, long course is king.
Satisfaction is what I felt while I put my shoes on and prepared to leave Twin Rivers. That one swim will not answer the problem, but it is the opening sentence in an essay to be written in my muscles over the next eight weeks. If the writing is good, the swim will be fun. If the writing is poor, the swim will be a struggle, a sufferfest, a quandary of wondering why, why am I doing this? I like to have fun. Help me Lord, to write well this story over the next two months. And help me to raise funds for the worthy charity, the Diabetes Foundation of Mississippi.
Monday, July 27, 2020
7/20 - 7/26
Once more, I failed to meet my own minimum training requirements for successfully swimming Chicot. Part of the problem is I am running a lot. Wednesday, for instance, I did not swim due to fatigue from a long run in the heat. Friday, I cut a swim short due to an intense coughing spell. Saturday, I failed to swim due to overall fatigue. I know what you are thinking: cut that running in half and have a lot more energy.
That is thinking logically. I think logically also, I just don't always operate logically. I like to run. I want to run. If possible, I am going to run. All the running I am doing right now I am doing to be able to play this winter. I have several marathons and journey runs that I want to make. Now is the time to build the foundation for winter fun.
Monday, I swam 4,295 meters, ran 4.2 miles, and lifted weights. Tuesday, I swam 4,391. Notice the odd numbers. That means I was swimming in the little pool. The shuffle was 3.47 miles, and the weights were heavy.
Wednesday was the day I did not start my run until far too late. I went 11.43 miles. After that, I re-hydrated, refueled, and rested. I did some light lifting, but could not make myself go to the pool.
Thursday, I had my biggest swim practice of late after taking a 3.2 miles shuffle. I went 5,100 straight with 3 X 50 added on for a total of 5,250 yards or 4,798 meters. I also had a good session at Plate City.
Friday was the mystery day. After doing 5.33 miles of road work, I went to the pool with a made up mind to swim until seriously tired. I had the strange coughing spells that cut the swim dreadfully short at 1,371 meters. The more I think about it, the more I believe it was a chemical buildup just above the water surface. The solution to that problem is to swim outdoors. That is where I had rather do my water work, but I have to either get in the pool early or late to do that.
Saturday, I did the old man shuffle for 2.65 miles. At Plate City, I had a really strong leg workout. However, I failed to make it to the pool. I took naps instead.
For the week, I
swam 14,805 meters,
ran a year's high 30.29 miles, and
lifted weights five times.
That was a good week although it was better but Chicot light on the swimming. There is still time to achieve the fitness I need, however, the window of opportunity is rapidly closing on me. God help me, and thank you that hope still lives.
That is thinking logically. I think logically also, I just don't always operate logically. I like to run. I want to run. If possible, I am going to run. All the running I am doing right now I am doing to be able to play this winter. I have several marathons and journey runs that I want to make. Now is the time to build the foundation for winter fun.
Monday, I swam 4,295 meters, ran 4.2 miles, and lifted weights. Tuesday, I swam 4,391. Notice the odd numbers. That means I was swimming in the little pool. The shuffle was 3.47 miles, and the weights were heavy.
Wednesday was the day I did not start my run until far too late. I went 11.43 miles. After that, I re-hydrated, refueled, and rested. I did some light lifting, but could not make myself go to the pool.
Thursday, I had my biggest swim practice of late after taking a 3.2 miles shuffle. I went 5,100 straight with 3 X 50 added on for a total of 5,250 yards or 4,798 meters. I also had a good session at Plate City.
Friday was the mystery day. After doing 5.33 miles of road work, I went to the pool with a made up mind to swim until seriously tired. I had the strange coughing spells that cut the swim dreadfully short at 1,371 meters. The more I think about it, the more I believe it was a chemical buildup just above the water surface. The solution to that problem is to swim outdoors. That is where I had rather do my water work, but I have to either get in the pool early or late to do that.
Saturday, I did the old man shuffle for 2.65 miles. At Plate City, I had a really strong leg workout. However, I failed to make it to the pool. I took naps instead.
For the week, I
swam 14,805 meters,
ran a year's high 30.29 miles, and
lifted weights five times.
That was a good week although it was better but Chicot light on the swimming. There is still time to achieve the fitness I need, however, the window of opportunity is rapidly closing on me. God help me, and thank you that hope still lives.
Sunday, July 26, 2020
Does Anyone Know?
Recently, I had breakfast with an old friend. We do this from time to time to keep up with each other. Somewhere along the way, the conversation turned to COVID-19. "My life really has not changed," he told me. "Has your life changed any?" he asked.
Yes, my life changed. A lot. My life changed a lot. First, after spring break, we did not re-enter the classroom, but shifted all of our instruction online. In short, we teachers were asked to do something we did not sign up for, were not prepared for, and never saw coming. We did it, and thus saved our school. I am thinking of the MDCC faculty. We saved the semester, we saved the school, and we saved our students. To show his appreciation, our president rewarded us with a pay cut. I am not kidding. You can't make this stuff up.
Not only that, but for the longest, until just last week, we did not know what our fall semester would look like. We were never asked what we thought. Teachers never are. Have you ever noticed how often education is discussed? Have you ever noticed that the one group never consulted, never invited to the table is the one group that knows the most about education, that has as much at stake as anybody else, and is uniquely impacted by any decision made on education: teachers. Funny how that works.
Life changed for me in other ways also. The Over Sixties get together that Penny and I enjoyed so much shut down in February of 2020. Just this morning, Penny mentioned that she missed our gatherings, the meals we shared, and the entertainment that was often so edifying. When will Over Sixties come back? I don't know. Does anyone know?
Another change was the cancellation of all the spring races. Many of these were outings that both Penny and I enjoyed. For instance, we always loved to go to Koscuisko in April for the festival where she shopped and I ran. Gone. Not only were the spring races cancelled, but the summer ones went away also. Then the fall races began to fall. Where will it stop? When will they come back? I don't know. Does anyone know?
The thing that hurt me the most was the cancellation of church services. When liquor stores were deemed "necessary" but churches not, you know your society has lost its moral bearings. I missed the building. I missed preaching. I missed the people. I missed corporate worship. Recently, we have reopened. I can tell that our church was harmed by the shutdown. But the church is not the building, you say. No, the church is the gathering. God commanded the gathering (Hebrews 10:25). I learned long ago that it is always bad anytime people miss church, and it does not matter what the reason of their absence is. They lose something they don't get anywhere else. When they miss, there is a price to be payed for that. I can see the price with my own eyes.
Of my mother's and father's generation, I have only one aunt and one uncle left, They live in Noxapater, Mississippi. I long to see them, but fear to visit. COVID has even taken that from me. Usually, I would drive over during spring break, sometimes during the summer, and always at the Heart O' Dixie Triathlon. Not this year. When will it be safe for me to see them again? Does anyone know?
Even the charity swim that I conduct, my swim, was postponed for a variety of reasons all related to COVID. Recently, one of my top crew members, Gerald Johnson, tried to book a room in Lake Village, Arkansas for the night before the swim. All the motels there are closed. When will they reopen? I don't know. They did not know. Does anyone know?
I was watching the Paul Finebaum Show the other day. Guess what else is up in the air. College football. What??!?! Yeah. It is not certain that there will be a season. Already we have experienced the cancellation of all the spring collegiate sports. Now college football is in crises. The Big Ten and the Pac Ten have already declared that they will play only conference games. The SWAC has announced the cancellation of fall football. They hope to play in the spring. No one seems to know what is going to happen. If the season does start, what happens in the event of an outbreak? Do you know? Does anyone know?
I guess that is the one thing that bothers me most about all of this, the uncertainty. Uncertainty is always with us but now its magnitude, its ubiquity has overwhelmed my spirit. So much is uncertain and unsettled. I yearn for solid ground under my feet. Concerning Chicot, I recently decided that we are doing the swim without the pontoon from the State Park. I was tired of waiting and seeking certainty, I opted to make a decision. Even if they offer the boat, this one thing is settled. The swim is going on without the pontoon. Now I know something. Gosh, that feels good.
There is one more thing I know. The Bible is very clear: "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and forever" (Hebrews 13:8). If that is not a comfort to you, I implore you to seek His face. Pray to Him, ask Him to forgive you of your sins, and invite Him into your life. He is the one thing, the only thing, we can be truly certain about.
Yes, my life changed. A lot. My life changed a lot. First, after spring break, we did not re-enter the classroom, but shifted all of our instruction online. In short, we teachers were asked to do something we did not sign up for, were not prepared for, and never saw coming. We did it, and thus saved our school. I am thinking of the MDCC faculty. We saved the semester, we saved the school, and we saved our students. To show his appreciation, our president rewarded us with a pay cut. I am not kidding. You can't make this stuff up.
Not only that, but for the longest, until just last week, we did not know what our fall semester would look like. We were never asked what we thought. Teachers never are. Have you ever noticed how often education is discussed? Have you ever noticed that the one group never consulted, never invited to the table is the one group that knows the most about education, that has as much at stake as anybody else, and is uniquely impacted by any decision made on education: teachers. Funny how that works.
Life changed for me in other ways also. The Over Sixties get together that Penny and I enjoyed so much shut down in February of 2020. Just this morning, Penny mentioned that she missed our gatherings, the meals we shared, and the entertainment that was often so edifying. When will Over Sixties come back? I don't know. Does anyone know?
Another change was the cancellation of all the spring races. Many of these were outings that both Penny and I enjoyed. For instance, we always loved to go to Koscuisko in April for the festival where she shopped and I ran. Gone. Not only were the spring races cancelled, but the summer ones went away also. Then the fall races began to fall. Where will it stop? When will they come back? I don't know. Does anyone know?
The thing that hurt me the most was the cancellation of church services. When liquor stores were deemed "necessary" but churches not, you know your society has lost its moral bearings. I missed the building. I missed preaching. I missed the people. I missed corporate worship. Recently, we have reopened. I can tell that our church was harmed by the shutdown. But the church is not the building, you say. No, the church is the gathering. God commanded the gathering (Hebrews 10:25). I learned long ago that it is always bad anytime people miss church, and it does not matter what the reason of their absence is. They lose something they don't get anywhere else. When they miss, there is a price to be payed for that. I can see the price with my own eyes.
Of my mother's and father's generation, I have only one aunt and one uncle left, They live in Noxapater, Mississippi. I long to see them, but fear to visit. COVID has even taken that from me. Usually, I would drive over during spring break, sometimes during the summer, and always at the Heart O' Dixie Triathlon. Not this year. When will it be safe for me to see them again? Does anyone know?
Even the charity swim that I conduct, my swim, was postponed for a variety of reasons all related to COVID. Recently, one of my top crew members, Gerald Johnson, tried to book a room in Lake Village, Arkansas for the night before the swim. All the motels there are closed. When will they reopen? I don't know. They did not know. Does anyone know?
I was watching the Paul Finebaum Show the other day. Guess what else is up in the air. College football. What??!?! Yeah. It is not certain that there will be a season. Already we have experienced the cancellation of all the spring collegiate sports. Now college football is in crises. The Big Ten and the Pac Ten have already declared that they will play only conference games. The SWAC has announced the cancellation of fall football. They hope to play in the spring. No one seems to know what is going to happen. If the season does start, what happens in the event of an outbreak? Do you know? Does anyone know?
I guess that is the one thing that bothers me most about all of this, the uncertainty. Uncertainty is always with us but now its magnitude, its ubiquity has overwhelmed my spirit. So much is uncertain and unsettled. I yearn for solid ground under my feet. Concerning Chicot, I recently decided that we are doing the swim without the pontoon from the State Park. I was tired of waiting and seeking certainty, I opted to make a decision. Even if they offer the boat, this one thing is settled. The swim is going on without the pontoon. Now I know something. Gosh, that feels good.
There is one more thing I know. The Bible is very clear: "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and forever" (Hebrews 13:8). If that is not a comfort to you, I implore you to seek His face. Pray to Him, ask Him to forgive you of your sins, and invite Him into your life. He is the one thing, the only thing, we can be truly certain about.
A Little Short
Saturday morning, I slept in until about 7:00 a.m. After that I lounged long, drank coffee, and you know the rest. Sometimes, rest is the best training an athlete can do. I did shuffle in the late morning going a short 2.65 miles. Then it was time for some serious napping.
It was mid-afternoon before I went to Plate City. While I was there, I attempted to build some shelves in the new storage building. I did not get far with that because of the heat. It is too hot to be alive inside of there. I did do both pull and legs since I took off Friday. For the legs, I did six sets of squats and one set of leg presses. I hit the lat pull down for five sets and the rotator cuffs for a bunch of stuff. Earlier, I had thought I would do farmers carries and some other stuff. But it was so hot that an hour of lifting was all I could deal with.
Nap time returned after the lifting, and I intended to rest up and go to the pool. Even a short swim would have been much better than none, but fatigue had built up too much over the week and all I did was rest for the rest of the day and night. Still, it was a good day to top off a full week.
Thank you, Jesus, for what I did get done.
It was mid-afternoon before I went to Plate City. While I was there, I attempted to build some shelves in the new storage building. I did not get far with that because of the heat. It is too hot to be alive inside of there. I did do both pull and legs since I took off Friday. For the legs, I did six sets of squats and one set of leg presses. I hit the lat pull down for five sets and the rotator cuffs for a bunch of stuff. Earlier, I had thought I would do farmers carries and some other stuff. But it was so hot that an hour of lifting was all I could deal with.
Nap time returned after the lifting, and I intended to rest up and go to the pool. Even a short swim would have been much better than none, but fatigue had built up too much over the week and all I did was rest for the rest of the day and night. Still, it was a good day to top off a full week.
Thank you, Jesus, for what I did get done.
Saturday, July 25, 2020
Spell
This week, I have been on a quest to swim at least 20,000 meters. I missed the water Wednesday due to fatigue from a long run. Thursday, however, I kept myself in the hunt by knocking out 4,798 meters.
I arrived at the pool Friday ready to take care of business. I began to swim. I began to cough. Yeah, underwater while I swam I had a coughing attack. No, I did not inhale any water. I tried to keep going but eventually, I realized I would have to stop because I was afraid I would hurl. Hurling in a pool is not cool. I tried to get to 1,000 before stopping, but I only made 900.
On the wall, I hydrated, coughed a little, and seemed to recover. Starting back swimming, I began to cough some more. First a little, then a lot, then a whole lot and hard. I stopped to keep from blowing lunch in the water. I made 600 on the second swim. I did not try for a third.
What was up with that? Really, I don't know. Out of the water, I was fine, tired but fine. I went home and got on the couch.
Was there a build up of toxic gas in the building? I have read that people peeing in the pool can result in urine mixing with chlorine which produces a toxic gas that lingers just above the water surface. Just above the water surface, by the way, is where I breathe when swimming.
I figure it was either toxic gas, or it was God's way to get me to go home and rest because I was one tired puppy already. I had run that morning and was planning to lift that afternoon. But after the spell I had in the water, I just chilled on the couch and watched a John Wayne movie.
Thank you, Jesus, that I feel well this morning.
I arrived at the pool Friday ready to take care of business. I began to swim. I began to cough. Yeah, underwater while I swam I had a coughing attack. No, I did not inhale any water. I tried to keep going but eventually, I realized I would have to stop because I was afraid I would hurl. Hurling in a pool is not cool. I tried to get to 1,000 before stopping, but I only made 900.
On the wall, I hydrated, coughed a little, and seemed to recover. Starting back swimming, I began to cough some more. First a little, then a lot, then a whole lot and hard. I stopped to keep from blowing lunch in the water. I made 600 on the second swim. I did not try for a third.
What was up with that? Really, I don't know. Out of the water, I was fine, tired but fine. I went home and got on the couch.
Was there a build up of toxic gas in the building? I have read that people peeing in the pool can result in urine mixing with chlorine which produces a toxic gas that lingers just above the water surface. Just above the water surface, by the way, is where I breathe when swimming.
I figure it was either toxic gas, or it was God's way to get me to go home and rest because I was one tired puppy already. I had run that morning and was planning to lift that afternoon. But after the spell I had in the water, I just chilled on the couch and watched a John Wayne movie.
Thank you, Jesus, that I feel well this morning.
Friday, July 24, 2020
Publication
I have always written. It is part of who I am. Mostly, I write for myself. I started this blog in 2012 with the idea of publicizing my charity swim, the Chicot Challenge. The blog had been good for me because it made me write more often than I did and now, I blog everyday. Last year, I posted 428 times which means sometimes I write several times a day.
In August, I will become a published author. My boss, Renee Moore, asked me to submit to her a piece of my writing. She was working with a publisher to produce a new English Composition textbook for our department, and any other department that wants, to use beginning this fall. She liked the writing, "RIP Louise Roberts," but also expressed that she wanted a piece about the area, about Mississippi, a local color piece. "RIP Louise Roberts" is a tribute to my mother-in-law that I wrote after she died.
After a bit of mulling, I remembered one I wrote called "Webster County" composed when I was on my bicycle riding craze. That piece is a pretty clear description of one of the lightest populated counties in Mississippi. She liked it and said that both writings were going into the book.
I guess I am already published, technically. My dissertation sold one copy. I know this because I received a royalty check for $9.51 about a year after I graduated. It was not Mid-America who bought it because they got a copy for free. I don't know who purchased it, but I sure wish I did know.
Now, I have another publishing project. On Instagram the other day, someone made a call for writers. This guy publishes a quarterly magazine in both digital and hard copy form. He gave instructions on how to contact him, how to view the magazine, and he invited writers to make him a pitch. I emailed him with links to my blog and YouTube so he could sample my writing and see that I was indeed a home gym owner (a necessity to publish with his magazine).
I made him a pitch on three articles for his magazine Home Gym. He wants two of them and gave me the specifications and deadline for the first. He even pays a whopping $100 bucks per article payable sixty days after publication. Three guesses what I will do with that money. No, Play It Again Sports in Jackson closed. Yes, I cried. I will spend it with Titan Fitness.
Last night, I wrote the first draft of the piece entitled, "How I Built the World's Best Backyard Gym." I am like I little boy the night before Christmas.
Thank you, Jesus.
In August, I will become a published author. My boss, Renee Moore, asked me to submit to her a piece of my writing. She was working with a publisher to produce a new English Composition textbook for our department, and any other department that wants, to use beginning this fall. She liked the writing, "RIP Louise Roberts," but also expressed that she wanted a piece about the area, about Mississippi, a local color piece. "RIP Louise Roberts" is a tribute to my mother-in-law that I wrote after she died.
After a bit of mulling, I remembered one I wrote called "Webster County" composed when I was on my bicycle riding craze. That piece is a pretty clear description of one of the lightest populated counties in Mississippi. She liked it and said that both writings were going into the book.
I guess I am already published, technically. My dissertation sold one copy. I know this because I received a royalty check for $9.51 about a year after I graduated. It was not Mid-America who bought it because they got a copy for free. I don't know who purchased it, but I sure wish I did know.
Now, I have another publishing project. On Instagram the other day, someone made a call for writers. This guy publishes a quarterly magazine in both digital and hard copy form. He gave instructions on how to contact him, how to view the magazine, and he invited writers to make him a pitch. I emailed him with links to my blog and YouTube so he could sample my writing and see that I was indeed a home gym owner (a necessity to publish with his magazine).
I made him a pitch on three articles for his magazine Home Gym. He wants two of them and gave me the specifications and deadline for the first. He even pays a whopping $100 bucks per article payable sixty days after publication. Three guesses what I will do with that money. No, Play It Again Sports in Jackson closed. Yes, I cried. I will spend it with Titan Fitness.
Last night, I wrote the first draft of the piece entitled, "How I Built the World's Best Backyard Gym." I am like I little boy the night before Christmas.
Thank you, Jesus.
Big Swim
After a day of no swimming and no upper body weight training, I was ready to smash some swimming muscles Thursday. But first things first. First I had to drink coffee, blog, and hang out with cats. After that, I did a small shuffle, 3.2 miles. Then I mowed the front lawn, went to the bank, and ate lunch.
I was in the pool about 2:00 o'clock. I did another straight swim, but this time I did the pickups in a more systematic, balanced way. At the end of each 1,000, I would throw in a pickup. For the first 1,000, it was 100 yards. At the end of 2,000, I did 200. When I finished 3,000, I busted out 300. Some unfortunate swimmer got in when I was completing 4,000. What did I do? You guessed it: a 400 fast.
The young guy swam well, but I lapped him twice. He stopped, leaned against a wall, and just watched me. I sort of felt sorry for him, and I certainly did not want to discourage him. He was probably wondering, how can this old man do this to me? I stopped after 5,100 (no, there was no hard 500), and he spoke, "I guess you swim a lot."
We chatted some and among other things, I told him he would swim better if he started on the correct end of the pool. Everybody who gets in wants to start on the west end of the pool. "You are going to start a fire in North Greenwood doing that," I lectured him. "East is the symbolic direction for life because the sun rises there. West symbolized death. Don't start with death. The Egyptian pyramids are on the west side of the Nile because they are about death." The pool is oriented east and west.
"That makes sense," he said and came down to my end. I gave him some pointers, timed him in a 50, and told him to swim 50s leaving the wall every one minute and fifteen seconds. He did that, and before I left he told me that it is easier to breath on the east side. Really. I did three 50s with medium paddles and left. That gave me 5,250 yards. Maybe I should have stayed and swum more.
I went by Monroe and picked up a couple of blocks and a few rocks. At the Hideout, I re-hydrated and rested. Still to come was Plate City.
I went to the gym l little after 6:00. It was push day so I benched and pressed
11 X 100
8 X 115
6 X 125
5 X 135
I did three sets of Viking presses, two sets of face pulls, a whole lot of rotator cuff work, and three sets of neck extensions. It was a good day. Thank you, Jesus.
I was in the pool about 2:00 o'clock. I did another straight swim, but this time I did the pickups in a more systematic, balanced way. At the end of each 1,000, I would throw in a pickup. For the first 1,000, it was 100 yards. At the end of 2,000, I did 200. When I finished 3,000, I busted out 300. Some unfortunate swimmer got in when I was completing 4,000. What did I do? You guessed it: a 400 fast.
The young guy swam well, but I lapped him twice. He stopped, leaned against a wall, and just watched me. I sort of felt sorry for him, and I certainly did not want to discourage him. He was probably wondering, how can this old man do this to me? I stopped after 5,100 (no, there was no hard 500), and he spoke, "I guess you swim a lot."
We chatted some and among other things, I told him he would swim better if he started on the correct end of the pool. Everybody who gets in wants to start on the west end of the pool. "You are going to start a fire in North Greenwood doing that," I lectured him. "East is the symbolic direction for life because the sun rises there. West symbolized death. Don't start with death. The Egyptian pyramids are on the west side of the Nile because they are about death." The pool is oriented east and west.
"That makes sense," he said and came down to my end. I gave him some pointers, timed him in a 50, and told him to swim 50s leaving the wall every one minute and fifteen seconds. He did that, and before I left he told me that it is easier to breath on the east side. Really. I did three 50s with medium paddles and left. That gave me 5,250 yards. Maybe I should have stayed and swum more.
I went by Monroe and picked up a couple of blocks and a few rocks. At the Hideout, I re-hydrated and rested. Still to come was Plate City.
I went to the gym l little after 6:00. It was push day so I benched and pressed
11 X 100
8 X 115
6 X 125
5 X 135
I did three sets of Viking presses, two sets of face pulls, a whole lot of rotator cuff work, and three sets of neck extensions. It was a good day. Thank you, Jesus.
Thursday, July 23, 2020
Plate Tree at Plate City
I am still working on Plate City. This little clip shows the latest update, a new plate tree.
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On the Red Line of Too Hot
I only did two Wednesday, but they were big one was big. I took a long run, but not before lounging long in the morning. The coffee was good, Baby Kitty was hanging out with me, and I wrote two blog posts.
By the time I got on the road, it was almost 10:00 a.m. That is too late for a long run this time of the year. I deal with heat pretty well, but not as well as I used to. In 1980, the hottest year of my 64, people would stop their cars and watch me while I ran in the extreme heat. The temperature would be 100 or more. In those days we did not have a heat index. Most likely it would have been 110 - 115, maybe higher. Not a problem.
And I did not even have a hydration system then. Not a problem. But I am no longer a young man. Still, I run in the heat while trying to avoid the extremes, and looking for shade, something that never even entered my thoughts until about two years ago. And I wear a hydration pack.
Thursday, the heat got to me a bit.
Early in the run, I had a couple of cloud overs. I thanked God out loud for them. One time I asked Him for eleven minutes. I did not time it, but I am sure the sun was hid for at least that long. Eventually, however, the cloud overs left despite my prayers.
While I was on West Claiborne Extended, I noticed that occasionally the breeze would die. When it did, I could feel my body heat rising quickly. It is amazing how much a gently breeze can help cool a hot human body.
When I was 7.4 miles into the run, I was on the north frontage road of Highway 82 between Fort Pemberton and Wall Mart. I spied a patch of shade about three feet in diameter. I stopped and sat on the road in that shade.
I have a pretty good thermostat, and I trust myself in heat. I have always read that you will not know when you are getting too hot. I knew. I have known in the past. Several times. I stayed in that shade about seven minutes, drank water, and took a gel. My body cooled a little.
Then I started back shuffling. My thoughts of a fourteen miler were dashed at this point. When I got into town, I stopped again on West Wilson Street between two houses. I sat on the edge of the road. When I left, there was a puddle of sweat where I sat that looked like someone had dumped a five gallon bucket of water there.
At home (I finished with 11.42 miles), I drank a glass of milk and ate a banana. Not long after that, I drank a whey protein shake. A few minutes later, I ate lunch, sloppy joes warmed up from the night before. By then I had stopped sweating, and I started on the liquids. I went to sleep on the coach and was awakened by a foot cramp. I ate a bag of potato chips in response.
I did not feel well, and determined not to swim. If you read this blog, you know how rare that is. I only did a little bit of lifting, some light squats while I worked on Plate City. I was only out there about thirty minutes and I soaked another set of clothing.
It was a good day. I did not die in the heat. Thank you, Jesus.
By the time I got on the road, it was almost 10:00 a.m. That is too late for a long run this time of the year. I deal with heat pretty well, but not as well as I used to. In 1980, the hottest year of my 64, people would stop their cars and watch me while I ran in the extreme heat. The temperature would be 100 or more. In those days we did not have a heat index. Most likely it would have been 110 - 115, maybe higher. Not a problem.
And I did not even have a hydration system then. Not a problem. But I am no longer a young man. Still, I run in the heat while trying to avoid the extremes, and looking for shade, something that never even entered my thoughts until about two years ago. And I wear a hydration pack.
Thursday, the heat got to me a bit.
Early in the run, I had a couple of cloud overs. I thanked God out loud for them. One time I asked Him for eleven minutes. I did not time it, but I am sure the sun was hid for at least that long. Eventually, however, the cloud overs left despite my prayers.
While I was on West Claiborne Extended, I noticed that occasionally the breeze would die. When it did, I could feel my body heat rising quickly. It is amazing how much a gently breeze can help cool a hot human body.
When I was 7.4 miles into the run, I was on the north frontage road of Highway 82 between Fort Pemberton and Wall Mart. I spied a patch of shade about three feet in diameter. I stopped and sat on the road in that shade.
I have a pretty good thermostat, and I trust myself in heat. I have always read that you will not know when you are getting too hot. I knew. I have known in the past. Several times. I stayed in that shade about seven minutes, drank water, and took a gel. My body cooled a little.
Then I started back shuffling. My thoughts of a fourteen miler were dashed at this point. When I got into town, I stopped again on West Wilson Street between two houses. I sat on the edge of the road. When I left, there was a puddle of sweat where I sat that looked like someone had dumped a five gallon bucket of water there.
At home (I finished with 11.42 miles), I drank a glass of milk and ate a banana. Not long after that, I drank a whey protein shake. A few minutes later, I ate lunch, sloppy joes warmed up from the night before. By then I had stopped sweating, and I started on the liquids. I went to sleep on the coach and was awakened by a foot cramp. I ate a bag of potato chips in response.
I did not feel well, and determined not to swim. If you read this blog, you know how rare that is. I only did a little bit of lifting, some light squats while I worked on Plate City. I was only out there about thirty minutes and I soaked another set of clothing.
It was a good day. I did not die in the heat. Thank you, Jesus.
Wednesday, July 22, 2020
All the Cats Are Here
We started having cat problems before we moved. Most of the cats stopped using the litter box. Go figure. River, on the other hand, continued to do the right thing. Consequently, when we moved, the first cat we brought over was little River. For two whole weeks, he was the sole lord of the new house. He ran, stayed up all night, played, stole potpourri, and generally just loved life.
Next, I brought CC over. I hate to admit that I have a favorite, but I do and CC is it. We got her at our church, Centerville Baptist. Someone dumped her there. She looked the congregation over one Sunday after service, picked my out, and asked me to take her home. Penny said I could so I did. She hangs out with me constantly. I love that. At the new house, she hid for a few hours before emerging. Then she re-established the old routine of napping in my lap. And thanks be to God, she began to use the litter box. Thank you, Jesus.
A couple of weeks after bringing CC over, I brought Luvie over. He only hid for about an hour. Then he started hanging with me. This created problems with CC. She is the only cat I have ever had that was possessive of me. In the past, she would not have another cat napping on my chest or lap. She would make them move. But now, she backed off and from the hallway just glared at Luvie and me. Attempts to coax her onto the bed failed. Why did she not just take her place like she always did in the past? Again, in answer to prayer, Luvie, who would urinate in his water bowl at the old house, took to using the litter box. Thank you, Jesus.
The last cat at the old house was Baby Kitty. Baby Kitty is a strange cookie. He always has been. He is the most non-aggressive tom I have ever known. He will not fight and he has always been the object of the other cats' bullying. Luvie rides him, CC beats him up regularly, and River chases him. All Baby Kitty wants is to be left alone.
Jeff, our deceased weenie dog, was Baby Kitty's best friend. The last couple of years of Jeff's life, Baby Kitty would hide in the morning before we went to work. We put the cats on the back porch when we weren't home. But BK would hide so he got to stay in. When we would come home, BK and Jeff would be napping together on the couch.
When Jeff died, BK was the only cat that came into the living room and sniffed Jeff's coffin. He has never been the same since. He would not walk through the living room anymore. When we let him inside, he would run through the living room and hide in another part of the house for days at a time. He got so thin, we were afraid he was going to starve to death. Even when he was the last cat at Monroe, I would go over and he would come out, but then hide again after a minute or two.
When I brought Baby Kitty over, he did hide. But he came out after a few hours and climbed up on the bed with me. That is where he has been ever since. He is terrified of River. All River wants to do is play, but BK wants to be left alone. He is using the litter box. Thank you, Jesus. He spends his time on the bed, preferably with me in it because he knows, like Jeff, I will make the other cats leave him alone.
CC? She is still giving me the cold shoulder. That upsets me terribly. No one can take her place, but she does not seem to know that. She will speak to me when I get out of bed, but that is the only time. If I put her on the bed, she jumps down. I don't know what to do. But I am happy that all of our animals are now with us. Thank you, Jesus.
Next, I brought CC over. I hate to admit that I have a favorite, but I do and CC is it. We got her at our church, Centerville Baptist. Someone dumped her there. She looked the congregation over one Sunday after service, picked my out, and asked me to take her home. Penny said I could so I did. She hangs out with me constantly. I love that. At the new house, she hid for a few hours before emerging. Then she re-established the old routine of napping in my lap. And thanks be to God, she began to use the litter box. Thank you, Jesus.
A couple of weeks after bringing CC over, I brought Luvie over. He only hid for about an hour. Then he started hanging with me. This created problems with CC. She is the only cat I have ever had that was possessive of me. In the past, she would not have another cat napping on my chest or lap. She would make them move. But now, she backed off and from the hallway just glared at Luvie and me. Attempts to coax her onto the bed failed. Why did she not just take her place like she always did in the past? Again, in answer to prayer, Luvie, who would urinate in his water bowl at the old house, took to using the litter box. Thank you, Jesus.
The last cat at the old house was Baby Kitty. Baby Kitty is a strange cookie. He always has been. He is the most non-aggressive tom I have ever known. He will not fight and he has always been the object of the other cats' bullying. Luvie rides him, CC beats him up regularly, and River chases him. All Baby Kitty wants is to be left alone.
Jeff, our deceased weenie dog, was Baby Kitty's best friend. The last couple of years of Jeff's life, Baby Kitty would hide in the morning before we went to work. We put the cats on the back porch when we weren't home. But BK would hide so he got to stay in. When we would come home, BK and Jeff would be napping together on the couch.
 |
| Baby Kitty napping while I type this blog post. |
When Jeff died, BK was the only cat that came into the living room and sniffed Jeff's coffin. He has never been the same since. He would not walk through the living room anymore. When we let him inside, he would run through the living room and hide in another part of the house for days at a time. He got so thin, we were afraid he was going to starve to death. Even when he was the last cat at Monroe, I would go over and he would come out, but then hide again after a minute or two.
When I brought Baby Kitty over, he did hide. But he came out after a few hours and climbed up on the bed with me. That is where he has been ever since. He is terrified of River. All River wants to do is play, but BK wants to be left alone. He is using the litter box. Thank you, Jesus. He spends his time on the bed, preferably with me in it because he knows, like Jeff, I will make the other cats leave him alone.
CC? She is still giving me the cold shoulder. That upsets me terribly. No one can take her place, but she does not seem to know that. She will speak to me when I get out of bed, but that is the only time. If I put her on the bed, she jumps down. I don't know what to do. But I am happy that all of our animals are now with us. Thank you, Jesus.
An Hour Early
More Chicot training was in store for Tuesday. But first I had breakfast with Danny Collins at Acey's. When I picked him up, he said, "Sorry I'm late. I thought you said 7:44." I did. Wow, I was an hour early! Who else does stupid stuff like that?
Then I had to work. I went into the office to enter a schedule into our system. I had some other stuff to do. My boss, Renee Moore, called Monday to discuss the fall schedule. She pointed out that the two classes I inherited from another teacher who is leaving for a new job, gave me two different (not tooth dentist) literature classes. That would be a lot of work.
Solution? Change one of the courses so that I have one prep for two classes. Problem? Maybe some of the students have already had the other class, the one we wanted to change to. How to accomplish the solution? In the past, I would just tell Mary Joseph the problem and she would take care of it. I did not have the nerve to ask Mary Joseph's replacement to do that. I was afraid I would get me feelings hurt. So I secured a roster, looked up all the students' transcripts and determined that none of them had had a previous lit. Then I looked up their phone numbers and began calling them.
Results? I spent my morning working when I am supposed to be in the Witness Protection Program. But, I told my boss what I had done, and she had one of the classes changed so that I now have two of the same literature classes instead of two different lit classes.
Then I took a shuffle. I only did 3.47 miles, and it was hot. My legs were shot, but I got it done.
After eating and rest, I went to the pool where I did the same type of swim as I did Monday: straight with some pickups thrown in. I totaled 4,750 yards. Also, I realized that I need to start backing the lifting off a bit. I could tell by the feeling my pectoral muscles had. When I go really big on the swimming, I usually do cut some of the lifting. Next week, I will drop one set off the bench press and one off the Viking press. Everything else will either stay the same or progress.
At the gym, it was pull night. I opened with a set of one-armed rows. After that, I did five sets of Lenny rows. I like that move. That's the one I always saw Lenny of the Delray Misfits do and shook my head at. But the first time I tried the exercise (not long ago) showed me that it is an effective move.
So I finished with another three-workout day. Thank you, Jesus.
Then I had to work. I went into the office to enter a schedule into our system. I had some other stuff to do. My boss, Renee Moore, called Monday to discuss the fall schedule. She pointed out that the two classes I inherited from another teacher who is leaving for a new job, gave me two different (not tooth dentist) literature classes. That would be a lot of work.
Solution? Change one of the courses so that I have one prep for two classes. Problem? Maybe some of the students have already had the other class, the one we wanted to change to. How to accomplish the solution? In the past, I would just tell Mary Joseph the problem and she would take care of it. I did not have the nerve to ask Mary Joseph's replacement to do that. I was afraid I would get me feelings hurt. So I secured a roster, looked up all the students' transcripts and determined that none of them had had a previous lit. Then I looked up their phone numbers and began calling them.
Results? I spent my morning working when I am supposed to be in the Witness Protection Program. But, I told my boss what I had done, and she had one of the classes changed so that I now have two of the same literature classes instead of two different lit classes.
Then I took a shuffle. I only did 3.47 miles, and it was hot. My legs were shot, but I got it done.
After eating and rest, I went to the pool where I did the same type of swim as I did Monday: straight with some pickups thrown in. I totaled 4,750 yards. Also, I realized that I need to start backing the lifting off a bit. I could tell by the feeling my pectoral muscles had. When I go really big on the swimming, I usually do cut some of the lifting. Next week, I will drop one set off the bench press and one off the Viking press. Everything else will either stay the same or progress.
At the gym, it was pull night. I opened with a set of one-armed rows. After that, I did five sets of Lenny rows. I like that move. That's the one I always saw Lenny of the Delray Misfits do and shook my head at. But the first time I tried the exercise (not long ago) showed me that it is an effective move.
So I finished with another three-workout day. Thank you, Jesus.
Tuesday, July 21, 2020
Finally
I finally did a swim practice worthy to be called a Chicot preparation. The day went like this. First, I worked on registration for school. I am supposed to be off contract and in the Witness Protection Program. But I have and it looks like I will continue to work a lot. Sigh.
Around 11:00 a.m., I took a shuffle. I went 4.2 miles to begin what I hope will be a heavy mileage week. After running, I ate some lunch and lounged.
I did not get into the little pool until 3:00 o'clock. I did a straight swim with some pickups thrown in. At 1,000, I threw in a hard 50. Later it was as hard 75, then a hard 100. Around 3,000, I busted out 300 like I was racing Randy Beets. I stopped after 4,700. That is not huge, but it is pretty big and worthy of a Chicot prep.
After a good run and a good swim, I needed a good lift session at the gym. I got it. It was push day, and on the bench, I pressed
15 X 102
14 X 107
13 X 107
12 X 107
11 X 112
In addition to that, I did three sets of Viking presses along with the ubiquitous rotator cuff work. So I had a solid day. I need to hit the pool hard again tomorrow. Thank you, Jesus.
Around 11:00 a.m., I took a shuffle. I went 4.2 miles to begin what I hope will be a heavy mileage week. After running, I ate some lunch and lounged.
I did not get into the little pool until 3:00 o'clock. I did a straight swim with some pickups thrown in. At 1,000, I threw in a hard 50. Later it was as hard 75, then a hard 100. Around 3,000, I busted out 300 like I was racing Randy Beets. I stopped after 4,700. That is not huge, but it is pretty big and worthy of a Chicot prep.
After a good run and a good swim, I needed a good lift session at the gym. I got it. It was push day, and on the bench, I pressed
15 X 102
14 X 107
13 X 107
12 X 107
11 X 112
In addition to that, I did three sets of Viking presses along with the ubiquitous rotator cuff work. So I had a solid day. I need to hit the pool hard again tomorrow. Thank you, Jesus.
Monday, July 20, 2020
7/13 - 7/19
The swimming came up this week, but not to where it needs to be. Let me tell you about it.
Monday, I did not swim. I ran 4.2 miles, lifted weights in the afternoon for the first time, and I rode bicycles with Brian.
Tuesday, I shuffled another 4,31 miles. I lifted again in the afternoon, a luxury made possible by the new top. Then I went to the pool and swam 3,300 long course meters.
The running slowed to 3.12 miles, Wednesday. Again I lifted in the afternoon and went to the pool after 5:30 where I swam a total of 3,500 meters in the big pool.
I did my long run of the week Thursday. That was only 8.14 miles, but this time of year running long is a tricky proposition. I lifted in the afternoon, and at the little pool, I swam 3,016 meters.
Since I had to make a trip to Greenville Friday, something had to drop off. I did not run, but I did lift and swim. In the pool, I kept is short hitting a mere 1,690 meters.
Saturday, despite a high level a fatigue, I did all three workouts. I ran 4.03 miles, the changed the order and swam 2,742 meters, and finished the day with a bid session at the gym.
And though I rarely do it, I rode with Brian and a gang of four other cyclists Sunday afternoon to round out a pretty full week.
For the week, I
ran 24.1 miles,
lifted weights six times,
swam 14,248 meters, and
cycled 39.92 miles.
That is a pretty decent week. The swimming was up with me swimming five times. However, I am still not where I need to be for Chicot. I must hit 20,000 plus this week.
This week, I will make a post on Chicot. I've made some decisions on some things.
Thank you, Jesus, for a good training week. Help me to exceed it this time.
Monday, I did not swim. I ran 4.2 miles, lifted weights in the afternoon for the first time, and I rode bicycles with Brian.
Tuesday, I shuffled another 4,31 miles. I lifted again in the afternoon, a luxury made possible by the new top. Then I went to the pool and swam 3,300 long course meters.
The running slowed to 3.12 miles, Wednesday. Again I lifted in the afternoon and went to the pool after 5:30 where I swam a total of 3,500 meters in the big pool.
I did my long run of the week Thursday. That was only 8.14 miles, but this time of year running long is a tricky proposition. I lifted in the afternoon, and at the little pool, I swam 3,016 meters.
Since I had to make a trip to Greenville Friday, something had to drop off. I did not run, but I did lift and swim. In the pool, I kept is short hitting a mere 1,690 meters.
Saturday, despite a high level a fatigue, I did all three workouts. I ran 4.03 miles, the changed the order and swam 2,742 meters, and finished the day with a bid session at the gym.
And though I rarely do it, I rode with Brian and a gang of four other cyclists Sunday afternoon to round out a pretty full week.
For the week, I
ran 24.1 miles,
lifted weights six times,
swam 14,248 meters, and
cycled 39.92 miles.
That is a pretty decent week. The swimming was up with me swimming five times. However, I am still not where I need to be for Chicot. I must hit 20,000 plus this week.
This week, I will make a post on Chicot. I've made some decisions on some things.
Thank you, Jesus, for a good training week. Help me to exceed it this time.
Sunday, July 19, 2020
Cameras Everywhere!?!?!?!?!
Usually I do nothing after church on Sundays except eat. Then I nap. All day. Yes, I get in bed and except to pour myself a glass of water or use the bathroom, I stay in bed until Monday morning.
Sunday I broke the pattern. Brian asked me to ride and since I had already turned him down once this week, I decided to say yes. Brian is a friend and I rode primarily for our friendship.
When I got to his house a little before 6:00 p.m., Brian was on his porch with his wife and Johnny Smith. Not long after that, McLeod Meek rode up, then Marco pedaled to the scene to join me and Father Oryan. Johnny dropped off at the bridge leaving five of us to make our trek to Money and back.
It did not take me long to see that Father Oryan has learned a bit about riding a bicycle. We rode easily to the bridge, Oryan and I side by side. He did not sprint out ahead of us like he did in the past. When we got into a pace line, I noticed Oryan behind me. This time he was on my tire. When it came his time to pull, he dutifully did his job and then pulled off like a pro. I was impressed.
We stopped at the fire station in Money. Someone has to take a pee. One of the group told him to go to the side of the building. Someone else said there are cameras all over this place.
Huh?!?!?
I wonder how long they have been recording my goober. I've peed all over that place. Looking up, I saw them, the cameras. Wow. They must think I am some kind of idiot.
When we started back, Brian asked who wanted to go to the front. McLeod offered and did it while Brian and I played the senior citizen card and took up the rear. McLeod pulled for almost three miles. Then I knew I would only have to take one turn at the front.
So we had a nice ride and the guys were kind to us old men. When we got to town, I said my good byes and headed home. Glancing at my watch, I wondered why it was longer coming back than it was going. Duh! I drove to Brian's. I was almost home before I realized my mistake.
To make a short story long, it was a nice ride. I even got to talk to Mark, Brian's son and my former training partner, when I finally got there to pick up my truck. We chatted on Brian's phone, facetime. That was nice. I hope to see him in two weeks for a workout at Plate City.
Thank you, Jesus.
Sunday I broke the pattern. Brian asked me to ride and since I had already turned him down once this week, I decided to say yes. Brian is a friend and I rode primarily for our friendship.
When I got to his house a little before 6:00 p.m., Brian was on his porch with his wife and Johnny Smith. Not long after that, McLeod Meek rode up, then Marco pedaled to the scene to join me and Father Oryan. Johnny dropped off at the bridge leaving five of us to make our trek to Money and back.
It did not take me long to see that Father Oryan has learned a bit about riding a bicycle. We rode easily to the bridge, Oryan and I side by side. He did not sprint out ahead of us like he did in the past. When we got into a pace line, I noticed Oryan behind me. This time he was on my tire. When it came his time to pull, he dutifully did his job and then pulled off like a pro. I was impressed.
We stopped at the fire station in Money. Someone has to take a pee. One of the group told him to go to the side of the building. Someone else said there are cameras all over this place.
Huh?!?!?
I wonder how long they have been recording my goober. I've peed all over that place. Looking up, I saw them, the cameras. Wow. They must think I am some kind of idiot.
When we started back, Brian asked who wanted to go to the front. McLeod offered and did it while Brian and I played the senior citizen card and took up the rear. McLeod pulled for almost three miles. Then I knew I would only have to take one turn at the front.
So we had a nice ride and the guys were kind to us old men. When we got to town, I said my good byes and headed home. Glancing at my watch, I wondered why it was longer coming back than it was going. Duh! I drove to Brian's. I was almost home before I realized my mistake.
To make a short story long, it was a nice ride. I even got to talk to Mark, Brian's son and my former training partner, when I finally got there to pick up my truck. We chatted on Brian's phone, facetime. That was nice. I hope to see him in two weeks for a workout at Plate City.
Thank you, Jesus.
A Nap Was in Order
At least I started slow Saturday. Brian and Father Oryan rode, but I was just not up to it. I slept in, drank coffee, and guess what else? Yeah, I hung out with cats. And napped. Yes, I napped.
I took a run in the late morning. It was hot at 10:00, but I shuffled 4.03 miles to finish out a good week of running. After that, a nap was in order. I was tired.
The pool saw me come in before 1:00. Missing the fire inside, I swam a mere
2,500 51:08
500 small paddles 10:17
total: 3,000 yards = 2,742 meters.
After that, a nap was in order. I dragged out of bed about 5:00 p.m. for a session at Plate City. It was pull day, and I did lots of it. For the first time ever, I did straight-arm pull downs followed by lat pull downs preceded by one-arm bent rows. Of course I did the rotator cuff work, neck work, and even a little biceps work. I sweated a couple of gallons. We are in the teeth of summer here, and it is really hot and humid. I used to love this. Now, not so much.
Penny cooked us a steak on the grill. After supper, a nap was in order. I napped until bed time. Then I went to sleep and dreamed. I might write a post on my dreams.
So I finished up with three workouts while skipping a ride with friends. Not bad for a day in which I was exhausted.
Thank you, Jesus.
I took a run in the late morning. It was hot at 10:00, but I shuffled 4.03 miles to finish out a good week of running. After that, a nap was in order. I was tired.
The pool saw me come in before 1:00. Missing the fire inside, I swam a mere
2,500 51:08
500 small paddles 10:17
total: 3,000 yards = 2,742 meters.
After that, a nap was in order. I dragged out of bed about 5:00 p.m. for a session at Plate City. It was pull day, and I did lots of it. For the first time ever, I did straight-arm pull downs followed by lat pull downs preceded by one-arm bent rows. Of course I did the rotator cuff work, neck work, and even a little biceps work. I sweated a couple of gallons. We are in the teeth of summer here, and it is really hot and humid. I used to love this. Now, not so much.
Penny cooked us a steak on the grill. After supper, a nap was in order. I napped until bed time. Then I went to sleep and dreamed. I might write a post on my dreams.
So I finished up with three workouts while skipping a ride with friends. Not bad for a day in which I was exhausted.
Thank you, Jesus.
Saturday, July 18, 2020
One Door Closed, One Door Open
Friday, we sold the last forty acres of Hodge Ski Lodge. Mother died two years and nine months ago, and we are just now settling everything up. Sort of. There are still taxes at the end of the year. Oddly, however, this was not an emotional event for me. Relief more aptly describes what I felt. But it has not always been relief.
At the leading of my sister, we started cleaning up at Mom's house two years before Dad died. Mom lived three years and nine months after he passed. It still took us eight months to get the house cleaned out, patched up, and put on the market. The day we closed on 422 West Harding Street, I drove around town and cried. That house had been a part of my life for over sixty years, and it seemed impossible that I would never go back there. I grew up there, watched our parents grow old there, and of course we had all those family gatherings there. It was the hub of our family and now it was gone.
Then we started on the land, a long and cumbersome process. I took phone calls, showed the land, got stood up over and over, and had numerous texts and phone conversations with my brother. And I learned a lot. I learned that land realtors, which we did not use, are an aggressive bunch that scratch and claw for business. That is OK. That's the American way, but they called and called and called after seeing the land posted in The Mississippi Market Bulletin.
Also, I learned how deceiving looks can be. Several times I thought the sale was in the bag only to have the people I was sure would buy, disappear like someone who owed the Mafia money. Then, on this last forty acres, my brother asked me after I showed the land to the people who bought it if I thought they were good prospects. My answer was simple: no.
After an unsuccessful year, we lowered the price and divided the land. Finally, we sold ninety-three acres, the heart of the place. This is the part that has the cabin, the two ponds, and where I did most of my hunting. Although I do not hunt much anymore, I still drove out there, parked at the cabin, and ran the gravel roads. To lose this was devastating to me. As I told my wife, I always had a place to go. And my memories there were/are stacked as high as the sky itself.
We still had two forty-acre blocks, but it was not the same anymore. When we sold the first of those forty-acre patches, the emotional impact was not as hard as before. It was like an open door was beginning to close. I suppose it is what people mean when they refer to "closure." I was ready for it all to be done, to not have to deal with that anymore, to move on with life.
July the 17th, my sister, Carol, and I met at a lawyer's office in Greenville to close on the final forty. Our siblings did their part via emails and notary republics. This particular sale was the culmination of showing the land, numerous phone calls, meeting with a neighboring land owner, a legal easement, a survey, two sales contracts (both of which expired), and finally the deal was done.
My brother sent me this text the morning of the closing:
"Although I am anxious to close on the N40, I am more emotional about this than all the others. This is the last physical link between all of us. It is also the last part of Roger and Jo Ann's legacy. The final step in the liquidation of a legacy."
Although I understand his sentiments, this one was not emotional for me. The feeling, as I said before, was relief. It's over. No more calls, no more trips to show the land, no more explanations and aggravations, no more hoping this is the one.
My wife and I recently bought a house and moved. Not long ago, Penny asked our daughter how she felt about us selling the house on Monroe. Baby Girl's reply was, "You can sell the property, but the memories remain. You don't sell the memories."
That is a pretty mature way to view it. This whole process has helped me to learn to let go, to keep the memories but to let the stuff go. Penny and I still have stuff at Monroe. This is now our open door. I have already let go of things that I would never have let go of if I had not had this experience with the house and the land in Carroll County. Right now, I am contemplating selling a couple of more items that I would never have dreamed of before all this. But life has changed, I have changed, and it is time to move on.
At the leading of my sister, we started cleaning up at Mom's house two years before Dad died. Mom lived three years and nine months after he passed. It still took us eight months to get the house cleaned out, patched up, and put on the market. The day we closed on 422 West Harding Street, I drove around town and cried. That house had been a part of my life for over sixty years, and it seemed impossible that I would never go back there. I grew up there, watched our parents grow old there, and of course we had all those family gatherings there. It was the hub of our family and now it was gone.
Then we started on the land, a long and cumbersome process. I took phone calls, showed the land, got stood up over and over, and had numerous texts and phone conversations with my brother. And I learned a lot. I learned that land realtors, which we did not use, are an aggressive bunch that scratch and claw for business. That is OK. That's the American way, but they called and called and called after seeing the land posted in The Mississippi Market Bulletin.
Also, I learned how deceiving looks can be. Several times I thought the sale was in the bag only to have the people I was sure would buy, disappear like someone who owed the Mafia money. Then, on this last forty acres, my brother asked me after I showed the land to the people who bought it if I thought they were good prospects. My answer was simple: no.
After an unsuccessful year, we lowered the price and divided the land. Finally, we sold ninety-three acres, the heart of the place. This is the part that has the cabin, the two ponds, and where I did most of my hunting. Although I do not hunt much anymore, I still drove out there, parked at the cabin, and ran the gravel roads. To lose this was devastating to me. As I told my wife, I always had a place to go. And my memories there were/are stacked as high as the sky itself.
We still had two forty-acre blocks, but it was not the same anymore. When we sold the first of those forty-acre patches, the emotional impact was not as hard as before. It was like an open door was beginning to close. I suppose it is what people mean when they refer to "closure." I was ready for it all to be done, to not have to deal with that anymore, to move on with life.
July the 17th, my sister, Carol, and I met at a lawyer's office in Greenville to close on the final forty. Our siblings did their part via emails and notary republics. This particular sale was the culmination of showing the land, numerous phone calls, meeting with a neighboring land owner, a legal easement, a survey, two sales contracts (both of which expired), and finally the deal was done.
My brother sent me this text the morning of the closing:
"Although I am anxious to close on the N40, I am more emotional about this than all the others. This is the last physical link between all of us. It is also the last part of Roger and Jo Ann's legacy. The final step in the liquidation of a legacy."
Although I understand his sentiments, this one was not emotional for me. The feeling, as I said before, was relief. It's over. No more calls, no more trips to show the land, no more explanations and aggravations, no more hoping this is the one.
My wife and I recently bought a house and moved. Not long ago, Penny asked our daughter how she felt about us selling the house on Monroe. Baby Girl's reply was, "You can sell the property, but the memories remain. You don't sell the memories."
That is a pretty mature way to view it. This whole process has helped me to learn to let go, to keep the memories but to let the stuff go. Penny and I still have stuff at Monroe. This is now our open door. I have already let go of things that I would never have let go of if I had not had this experience with the house and the land in Carroll County. Right now, I am contemplating selling a couple of more items that I would never have dreamed of before all this. But life has changed, I have changed, and it is time to move on.
Friday
I had a big hole knocked out of Friday. I'll write another post about that, but it limited my training. Having to make a trip to Greenville, I and was not home until noon.
Mid afternoon I went to the pool. Since I was pressed a bit for time. I only swam a little. I did
1,550 30:49
4 X 50 large paddles
100 back 2:20
total: 1,850 yards = 1,690 meters.
That was not much, but it was my fourth swim of the week, the first time I have done that in probably ten weeks.
I needed to mow at Monroe. It was very hot, but I got the yard cut and I moved my 100 pound slam ball. That was eye opening. It was not fun like the farmer's walk, but much more difficult. Since the weight is so much farther in front of your body, it puts a huge strain on the upper and lower back as well as the glutes. Huge. I suppose I should do this some when I do carries, walk with the ball.
At the Hideout, I took a nap and then lifted. On the bench, I pressed
10 X 100
8 X 110
7 X 120
6 X 130
On the Viking Press, it was
17 X 40
13 X 50
10 X 55
8 X 60
I did some neck work and one set of face pulls not to mention all the rotator cuff work. So I guess two out of three ain't bad. Thank you, Jesus.
Mid afternoon I went to the pool. Since I was pressed a bit for time. I only swam a little. I did
1,550 30:49
4 X 50 large paddles
100 back 2:20
total: 1,850 yards = 1,690 meters.
That was not much, but it was my fourth swim of the week, the first time I have done that in probably ten weeks.
I needed to mow at Monroe. It was very hot, but I got the yard cut and I moved my 100 pound slam ball. That was eye opening. It was not fun like the farmer's walk, but much more difficult. Since the weight is so much farther in front of your body, it puts a huge strain on the upper and lower back as well as the glutes. Huge. I suppose I should do this some when I do carries, walk with the ball.
At the Hideout, I took a nap and then lifted. On the bench, I pressed
10 X 100
8 X 110
7 X 120
6 X 130
On the Viking Press, it was
17 X 40
13 X 50
10 X 55
8 X 60
I did some neck work and one set of face pulls not to mention all the rotator cuff work. So I guess two out of three ain't bad. Thank you, Jesus.
Friday, July 17, 2020
Late Start
It was 10:00 a.m. before I left the house Thursday morning. The temperature was already 84 degrees, and I had my Camebak on with about forty ounces of water. I shuffled 8.14 miles then ate lunch and took nap.
After lunch, I mowed the front lawn then did some lifting at Plate City. Legs were the only thing due. After a set of high-rep squats, I did three jumps and then shuffled 1:12 on the treadmill. I then did three deadlifts, three more jumps, and 1:12 on the treadmill. To finish up, I did three deadlifts with more weight, three jumps onto a stack of weight plates, and another 1:12 on the treadmill and a millisecond under my typical pathetic pace. My plan is to use the treadmill in my leg workouts and to try to lower my shuffling pace a bit.
I went to Monroe and picked up Baby Kitty. We have moved the cats one at a time. We just thought it would work better that way. Like the other cats, he hid at first, but eventually he came out and slept with me and Luvie. CC is still boycotting me since we brought Luvie over.
At about 6:00 p.m., I went to Twin Rivers. There were kids in the pool. What!?!?! Not to worry. We now have options. So I swam the little pool for:
1,500 29:11
2 X 50
2 X 75
2 X 100
1 X 150
750 medium paddles 13:34
200 free/back by 25s 4:25
total: 3,300 yards = 3,016 meters.
Thus it was a good day. I did my big three workouts, did some mowing, and dug a little more on the latest hole I am working on to set another post. Why the post? you ask. I will make another plate tree out of it.
Thank you, Jesus, for the problem of having too many weights.
After lunch, I mowed the front lawn then did some lifting at Plate City. Legs were the only thing due. After a set of high-rep squats, I did three jumps and then shuffled 1:12 on the treadmill. I then did three deadlifts, three more jumps, and 1:12 on the treadmill. To finish up, I did three deadlifts with more weight, three jumps onto a stack of weight plates, and another 1:12 on the treadmill and a millisecond under my typical pathetic pace. My plan is to use the treadmill in my leg workouts and to try to lower my shuffling pace a bit.
I went to Monroe and picked up Baby Kitty. We have moved the cats one at a time. We just thought it would work better that way. Like the other cats, he hid at first, but eventually he came out and slept with me and Luvie. CC is still boycotting me since we brought Luvie over.
At about 6:00 p.m., I went to Twin Rivers. There were kids in the pool. What!?!?! Not to worry. We now have options. So I swam the little pool for:
1,500 29:11
2 X 50
2 X 75
2 X 100
1 X 150
750 medium paddles 13:34
200 free/back by 25s 4:25
total: 3,300 yards = 3,016 meters.
Thus it was a good day. I did my big three workouts, did some mowing, and dug a little more on the latest hole I am working on to set another post. Why the post? you ask. I will make another plate tree out of it.
Thank you, Jesus, for the problem of having too many weights.
Thursday, July 16, 2020
A Dream
When I woke up before daylight, I realized that the dream I had just had was a recurring one. I have written about recurring dreams before. In this one, I was in school at Delta State (I have two degrees from there) and taking final exams. The problem was that I had two exams scheduled for the same time.
I was in a quandary as to what I should do. I showed up for one of the exams. We were outside between buildings. A table has been set up with some gatorade, exams, and pencils. Should I take this one and then go to the other? Should I go to the other and tell them my problem?
I decided to tell the first one that I was going to go talk to my other proffs and then come back. I went to the Union Building where I thought the other exam might be offered. I wasn't sure where I took the class. How do you forget that? It might have been in the Union. I thought about Bailey Hall. Some English classes were held there after Keithly was shut for renovation. Maybe Ewing.
I found a school employee at a desk and started asking questions. I could not remember my professors names (there were two of them). I guess I sounded so stupid that she thought it was a come on and she just smiled and said she did not know. She did not spend one second thinking about it or offer to call anyone and inquire.
Frustrated, I walked out immediately. She could have called the English Department and found out what exams were being offered at that time and where. Then I woke up.
As I said, I have had this dream before. That has often puzzled me. I have three genres of dreams that I have over and over and over. In one of them, it is almost church time and I have not studied. That is horrifying to me. In one particular dream of that type, the cars are rolling in, I had not studied, and my shoes are muddy.
After a little reflection, I realized that this final-exam dream falls into the have-not-studied-to-preach genre. I was not prepared. I had time beforehand to talk to both professors and failed to do so. I had time to review where the exams were held. I failed to do so. So I got myself into a bind that could have been avoided. That's the commonality.
I don't know why I continually have these kinds of dreams. Maybe it is because one of my biggest fears is not being prepared. When I started preaching, I studied like no one else because I am not a talker, and without study I had/have nothing to say. Add to that the fact that I never feel prepared no matter how much time I spend and you get the perfect setup for some underlying anxiety that fuels reoccurring dreams. At least that is what I think, but who knows. Jesus knows. Thank you, Jesus, for interesting dreams.
I was in a quandary as to what I should do. I showed up for one of the exams. We were outside between buildings. A table has been set up with some gatorade, exams, and pencils. Should I take this one and then go to the other? Should I go to the other and tell them my problem?
I decided to tell the first one that I was going to go talk to my other proffs and then come back. I went to the Union Building where I thought the other exam might be offered. I wasn't sure where I took the class. How do you forget that? It might have been in the Union. I thought about Bailey Hall. Some English classes were held there after Keithly was shut for renovation. Maybe Ewing.
I found a school employee at a desk and started asking questions. I could not remember my professors names (there were two of them). I guess I sounded so stupid that she thought it was a come on and she just smiled and said she did not know. She did not spend one second thinking about it or offer to call anyone and inquire.
Frustrated, I walked out immediately. She could have called the English Department and found out what exams were being offered at that time and where. Then I woke up.
As I said, I have had this dream before. That has often puzzled me. I have three genres of dreams that I have over and over and over. In one of them, it is almost church time and I have not studied. That is horrifying to me. In one particular dream of that type, the cars are rolling in, I had not studied, and my shoes are muddy.
After a little reflection, I realized that this final-exam dream falls into the have-not-studied-to-preach genre. I was not prepared. I had time beforehand to talk to both professors and failed to do so. I had time to review where the exams were held. I failed to do so. So I got myself into a bind that could have been avoided. That's the commonality.
I don't know why I continually have these kinds of dreams. Maybe it is because one of my biggest fears is not being prepared. When I started preaching, I studied like no one else because I am not a talker, and without study I had/have nothing to say. Add to that the fact that I never feel prepared no matter how much time I spend and you get the perfect setup for some underlying anxiety that fuels reoccurring dreams. At least that is what I think, but who knows. Jesus knows. Thank you, Jesus, for interesting dreams.
Right Three Again
It was butt Beetsening, the training I did Wednesday. I started with a shuffle, a 3.12 mile one. That is not a lot, but the consistency with which I have been running has to start paying off at some point. I did not get anything else done before lunch.
After lunch and a nap I was at Plate City for my second early afternoon workout. Remember, I could not do this a week ago, but now with the top on the gym, I can lift anytime of the day. It was pull day and I did one set of one-armed bent rows for a warm up and then six sets of Lenny rows. Add to that some rotator cuff work, three sets of reverse flys, and some Smith machine shrugs and you have yourself a thorough workout for all the upper back muscles.
For the second day in a row, I went to Twin Rivers after 5:30 p.m. I swam
3,400 1:19:02
2 X 50 small paddles
total: 3,500 long course meters.
So I did another three, and I have the swimming going if I can just keep it going like this for the next three days. The long course pool is better for endurance. Thank you, Jesus.
After lunch and a nap I was at Plate City for my second early afternoon workout. Remember, I could not do this a week ago, but now with the top on the gym, I can lift anytime of the day. It was pull day and I did one set of one-armed bent rows for a warm up and then six sets of Lenny rows. Add to that some rotator cuff work, three sets of reverse flys, and some Smith machine shrugs and you have yourself a thorough workout for all the upper back muscles.
For the second day in a row, I went to Twin Rivers after 5:30 p.m. I swam
3,400 1:19:02
2 X 50 small paddles
total: 3,500 long course meters.
So I did another three, and I have the swimming going if I can just keep it going like this for the next three days. The long course pool is better for endurance. Thank you, Jesus.
Wednesday, July 15, 2020
Right Three
I like to think I got back on track Tuesday. At least I did three workouts and the right three at that.
I was waiting again, waiting on an HVAC man. He finally texted and asked if I was home. We had an issue with the air unit. When he got that squared away, I showed him Plate City and asked about getting some power to it. He is also an electrician. We planned it out, and he said he would get it when he caught up with all the air conditioning work. So I am waiting again.
Running was all the working out I did in the morning, 4.31 miles. But with my top on the gym, I can now lift anytime of the day. Before, with no shade in the afternoon, I would not lift then. Besides the general heat, the bars and plates would get so hot in the sun that they literally burned me. I did push which looked like this on the bench:
14 X 102
13 X 107
12 X 107
11 X 107
10 X 112
10 X 102
On the Viking press, I pressed
16 X 40
13 X 50
10 X 55
Of course I did rotator cuff work and face pulls.
Since I dropped the bicycle, I had time to swim after 5:00. I went to Twin Rivers at about 5:30 and the big pool was empty. I swam 3,300 straight, long course meters. It was jolly good fun, and I felt like I got a pretty good workout. I have to keep the swimming going now to make Chicot happen.
While there, I saw and chatted with T Mac Howard, who operates Delta Street Academy, a local ministry for disadvantaged youth. I offered him my services as a swimmer. They have a big fund-raising effort every year. He seemed excited about the prospects. We will have to wait and see. I have offered myself to numerous causes. No one has taken me up on it yet except the Diabetes Foundation of Mississippi.
I'd like to use my swimming to help someone else if that is possible. The thing is, it is possible. I twice contacted French Camp Academy. They do a big fund raiser each year. They also have a nice lake and a radio station that could push the swim. They never got back with me.
I offered to swim for a church in Alabama. No response. I met a physician from Grenada at a race who goes on a medical mission each year. I offered to swim for them. Crickets. Linda Whittington, if you are reading this, I would be happy to do a swim for Greenwood Mentoring Group if you guys think you could make it work. I will swim, have my own crew to take care of me, sign a waiver absolving y'all of any responsibility if I get injured or die, publicize the event, and it won't cost you guys a dime.
Like Lefty in Townes Van Zandt's song, I am getting old. I don't want the dust in my mouth when I get too old to swim long.
Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of swimming. Help me to find avenues to use it to help others.
I was waiting again, waiting on an HVAC man. He finally texted and asked if I was home. We had an issue with the air unit. When he got that squared away, I showed him Plate City and asked about getting some power to it. He is also an electrician. We planned it out, and he said he would get it when he caught up with all the air conditioning work. So I am waiting again.
Running was all the working out I did in the morning, 4.31 miles. But with my top on the gym, I can now lift anytime of the day. Before, with no shade in the afternoon, I would not lift then. Besides the general heat, the bars and plates would get so hot in the sun that they literally burned me. I did push which looked like this on the bench:
14 X 102
13 X 107
12 X 107
11 X 107
10 X 112
10 X 102
On the Viking press, I pressed
16 X 40
13 X 50
10 X 55
Of course I did rotator cuff work and face pulls.
Since I dropped the bicycle, I had time to swim after 5:00. I went to Twin Rivers at about 5:30 and the big pool was empty. I swam 3,300 straight, long course meters. It was jolly good fun, and I felt like I got a pretty good workout. I have to keep the swimming going now to make Chicot happen.
While there, I saw and chatted with T Mac Howard, who operates Delta Street Academy, a local ministry for disadvantaged youth. I offered him my services as a swimmer. They have a big fund-raising effort every year. He seemed excited about the prospects. We will have to wait and see. I have offered myself to numerous causes. No one has taken me up on it yet except the Diabetes Foundation of Mississippi.
I'd like to use my swimming to help someone else if that is possible. The thing is, it is possible. I twice contacted French Camp Academy. They do a big fund raiser each year. They also have a nice lake and a radio station that could push the swim. They never got back with me.
I offered to swim for a church in Alabama. No response. I met a physician from Grenada at a race who goes on a medical mission each year. I offered to swim for them. Crickets. Linda Whittington, if you are reading this, I would be happy to do a swim for Greenwood Mentoring Group if you guys think you could make it work. I will swim, have my own crew to take care of me, sign a waiver absolving y'all of any responsibility if I get injured or die, publicize the event, and it won't cost you guys a dime.
Like Lefty in Townes Van Zandt's song, I am getting old. I don't want the dust in my mouth when I get too old to swim long.
Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of swimming. Help me to find avenues to use it to help others.
Tuesday, July 14, 2020
Another Plate City Improvement
Monday, I upgraded Plate City one more time. I moved the treadmill over and set it up. The treadmill was in my office on Monroe. I did not run on it often. First, who likes to run on a treadmill? That's what I thought. Second, in the event that a cold day and rain and my need/desire to run all coincided, I always went to Twin Rivers. The place is well lit, TVs adorn the wall, and I usually also needed to lift also and could do both there.
Twin Rivers saw me outside of the pool maybe four or five times per year. Now with a top on Plate City, I will not have to go to the rec center to lift. In addition, with the treadmill at Plate City, I think I will prefer running at home when the weather turns inclimate. First, the claustrophobia that I felt inside that little building will be a thing of the past. Although Plate City has a top, it has no walls so there is a sense of space that is refreshing. The green grass, the new fence the 100 feet of yard all make me happy.
Second, being surrounded by all my weights gives the new treadmill space an ambiance that will beat Twin Rivers any day of the week. Did I mention the big trees in my neighbors' yards? Did I mention my little dog who loves to hang out? Did I mention that I will be home with no need to drive?
If I sound like I am bragging, forgive me. I am just excited. My fitness experience has improved drastically already, and it should only get better. Now I need to get some lights and some power out there. I am waiting on an electrician to come by. Yeah, I am still waiting. I was waiting Monday and this is Tuesday. That is my next goal, to go through one day where I don't have to wait on anyone. Good luck with that, you say. Yeah, good luck and good grace because that is what it will take.
Thank you, Jesus.
Twin Rivers saw me outside of the pool maybe four or five times per year. Now with a top on Plate City, I will not have to go to the rec center to lift. In addition, with the treadmill at Plate City, I think I will prefer running at home when the weather turns inclimate. First, the claustrophobia that I felt inside that little building will be a thing of the past. Although Plate City has a top, it has no walls so there is a sense of space that is refreshing. The green grass, the new fence the 100 feet of yard all make me happy.
Second, being surrounded by all my weights gives the new treadmill space an ambiance that will beat Twin Rivers any day of the week. Did I mention the big trees in my neighbors' yards? Did I mention my little dog who loves to hang out? Did I mention that I will be home with no need to drive?
If I sound like I am bragging, forgive me. I am just excited. My fitness experience has improved drastically already, and it should only get better. Now I need to get some lights and some power out there. I am waiting on an electrician to come by. Yeah, I am still waiting. I was waiting Monday and this is Tuesday. That is my next goal, to go through one day where I don't have to wait on anyone. Good luck with that, you say. Yeah, good luck and good grace because that is what it will take.
Thank you, Jesus.
Wrong Three
I started this week off with three workouts, but they were the wrong three. Maybe I should say it like it really was. They were the right two and the wrong one. Allow me to explain.
I took a shuffle around mid-morning. That was a right one. I am enjoying my running now. Remember, I was off for two years. Two years. I had a good year on 2016. I won my age group in some pretty competitive races, and I ran a full marathon at the Mississippi River Marathon and half. Then tragedy struck with a knee injury that sidelined me for two full years. I started back running in January of 2019. I have been running consistently since then. My pace, however, has never rebounded. I shuffle along like an old man. I know what you are thinking. You are an old man. That's besides the point.
So I shuffled 4.2 miles, a good start, then went straight to the new and improved Plate City for a massive leg workout. What?!? I thought you always started with a push session. Almost always. But I only did legs once last week so they were due. I did seven sets of squats, two sets of leg presses, and some extensions and other stuff.
After lunch, I went out to run some errands. I took my swimming stuff with me and called Twin Rivers. They were giving lessons in the indoor pool. Dang it. I missed another swim. But, you ask, why don't you swim in the morning like you used to? I'm too lazy, OK? Actually, I still arise fairly early, but I like to start my day slowly. John has been out for a while now, and I swim when I want to. When I can.
OK, I get it. But why did you not swim at night? Good question. Brian wanted to ride and that was my third workout and the wrong one. I must prioritize swimming from now on or Chicot will be off. I told Brian that, that this was my last bicycle ride of the summer. He was not happy, but I have to do it.
So I had a full day, but I missed a swim at a time when I cannot afford to miss swims. It has been nine weeks since I swam 20,000 meters in one seven day cycle. Nine weeks. Twenty thousand is the minimum that I need to do the big swim. God help me because it is slipping away.
I took a shuffle around mid-morning. That was a right one. I am enjoying my running now. Remember, I was off for two years. Two years. I had a good year on 2016. I won my age group in some pretty competitive races, and I ran a full marathon at the Mississippi River Marathon and half. Then tragedy struck with a knee injury that sidelined me for two full years. I started back running in January of 2019. I have been running consistently since then. My pace, however, has never rebounded. I shuffle along like an old man. I know what you are thinking. You are an old man. That's besides the point.
So I shuffled 4.2 miles, a good start, then went straight to the new and improved Plate City for a massive leg workout. What?!? I thought you always started with a push session. Almost always. But I only did legs once last week so they were due. I did seven sets of squats, two sets of leg presses, and some extensions and other stuff.
After lunch, I went out to run some errands. I took my swimming stuff with me and called Twin Rivers. They were giving lessons in the indoor pool. Dang it. I missed another swim. But, you ask, why don't you swim in the morning like you used to? I'm too lazy, OK? Actually, I still arise fairly early, but I like to start my day slowly. John has been out for a while now, and I swim when I want to. When I can.
OK, I get it. But why did you not swim at night? Good question. Brian wanted to ride and that was my third workout and the wrong one. I must prioritize swimming from now on or Chicot will be off. I told Brian that, that this was my last bicycle ride of the summer. He was not happy, but I have to do it.
So I had a full day, but I missed a swim at a time when I cannot afford to miss swims. It has been nine weeks since I swam 20,000 meters in one seven day cycle. Nine weeks. Twenty thousand is the minimum that I need to do the big swim. God help me because it is slipping away.
Monday, July 13, 2020
Pee Wee's Escapades
The adjustment for a four-legged family has had a few bumps in the road. The first one to move to the Hideout was Pee Wee our huge-hearted, twenty-six pound, Mountain Feist. At first everything with him was OK except he whined every time I left in the truck. I think he thought he was being dumped. That was OK, I thought. He will learn. He did. He learned how to get out.
Pee Wee has never been as escaper. When we had Bear, Bear beat me. We finally had to chain him in the yard. We felt like criminals for doing that. But when he would dig out, Pee Wee never left the yard. So when we started waking at the Hideout to find Pee Wee under the carport, we were nonplussed to say the least. It took awhile but we finally found out how he was doing it. Remember we had an eight-foot fence put in. That little rascal was climbing the gate, one of two, that was only four feet high.
So we had Simon rebuild the wooden gate to six feet. Pee Wee, however, continued to get out. He would sneak out, like a teenage boy, after dark and do who-knows-what all night long. Then he would sleep all day. We even saw him on Facebook one night. There he was, like a mugshot, in the backseat of someone's pickup truck. I went and picked him up .8 of a mile from the Hideout. The nice man said the little turd was running down the middle of Popular Street, right down the center line. He went there twice in one night.
The next day, Penny saw him climbing the chain link gate. Now we are having to tie him. We hope to have Simon do something with that gate. I hate to tie a dog in the yard. It doesn't seem right. It is not right, but sometimes you have to until you can do something else.
Anyway, that is the way it is when you have a high-energy, high-intelligence dog. He is a handful, but he is a sweet, loving, and fascinating. We love him. Eventually, he will be free again in the backyard where he can rule as the sovereign animal, barking at squirrels, and seeing everything, even butterflies that cross his domain. He can nap where he wants and hang out with me when I workout.
Thank you, Jesus, for Pee Wee. Give him a long and healthy life, please.
Pee Wee has never been as escaper. When we had Bear, Bear beat me. We finally had to chain him in the yard. We felt like criminals for doing that. But when he would dig out, Pee Wee never left the yard. So when we started waking at the Hideout to find Pee Wee under the carport, we were nonplussed to say the least. It took awhile but we finally found out how he was doing it. Remember we had an eight-foot fence put in. That little rascal was climbing the gate, one of two, that was only four feet high.
So we had Simon rebuild the wooden gate to six feet. Pee Wee, however, continued to get out. He would sneak out, like a teenage boy, after dark and do who-knows-what all night long. Then he would sleep all day. We even saw him on Facebook one night. There he was, like a mugshot, in the backseat of someone's pickup truck. I went and picked him up .8 of a mile from the Hideout. The nice man said the little turd was running down the middle of Popular Street, right down the center line. He went there twice in one night.
The next day, Penny saw him climbing the chain link gate. Now we are having to tie him. We hope to have Simon do something with that gate. I hate to tie a dog in the yard. It doesn't seem right. It is not right, but sometimes you have to until you can do something else.
Anyway, that is the way it is when you have a high-energy, high-intelligence dog. He is a handful, but he is a sweet, loving, and fascinating. We love him. Eventually, he will be free again in the backyard where he can rule as the sovereign animal, barking at squirrels, and seeing everything, even butterflies that cross his domain. He can nap where he wants and hang out with me when I workout.
Thank you, Jesus, for Pee Wee. Give him a long and healthy life, please.
7/6 - 7/12
It was another disappointing swim week, but Plate City is in full bloom, and I am as happy as a dead pig in the sunshine. Monday swam 3,381 meters and shuffled 3.87 miles. Tuesday I swam 3,290 meters, ran 4.04 miles, and lifted weights. That is real training.
Wednesday I continued with real training by swimming 3,061 meters, and running a whopping 10.43 miles. I was too tired to do anything else.
Thursday I shuffled 2.18 miles and did a big leg workout. Friday, I waited all morning for the call from the workers to install the top. They finally called and then I waited on them to come. They did come late in the day and did the job. Plate City took a huge step forward.
Saturday, I got to play in the new and improved Plate City. I did push and pull as well as move things around. I am not done getting everything set, but the place is looking nice. I managed to shuffle 2.44 miles to cap off a rebuild week on the road.
For the week, I
ran 22.96 miles,
lifted weights three times, and
swam 9,732 meters.
I should not be waiting on anyone this week. I hope that helps me to get the swimming in. I need to hit 20,000 meters this week. If not, Chicot is in real jeopardy.
Thank you, Jesus, for Plate City Gym. Thank you for sweet cats. Thank you for the birds outside my window.
Wednesday I continued with real training by swimming 3,061 meters, and running a whopping 10.43 miles. I was too tired to do anything else.
Thursday I shuffled 2.18 miles and did a big leg workout. Friday, I waited all morning for the call from the workers to install the top. They finally called and then I waited on them to come. They did come late in the day and did the job. Plate City took a huge step forward.
Saturday, I got to play in the new and improved Plate City. I did push and pull as well as move things around. I am not done getting everything set, but the place is looking nice. I managed to shuffle 2.44 miles to cap off a rebuild week on the road.
For the week, I
ran 22.96 miles,
lifted weights three times, and
swam 9,732 meters.
I should not be waiting on anyone this week. I hope that helps me to get the swimming in. I need to hit 20,000 meters this week. If not, Chicot is in real jeopardy.
Thank you, Jesus, for Plate City Gym. Thank you for sweet cats. Thank you for the birds outside my window.
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