Snoring

I am not going to use her name. She is one of my favorite people, and I do not want to embarrass her. Much. She made the trip with us to Lake Village and stayed with Penny and me. 

Sometime during the night I woke up to her whining and tossing in the bed like a young child who has worms. Later she began to snore. She sounded like a lot of things. I was even dreaming in the early morning hours that I was writing down a list of things her snoring sounded like. The list went like this:

•      a large barn animal dying with pneumonia
•      a jet engine in distress
•      a huge gorilla with sinus issues
•      a small child blowing a duck call
•      a grizzly bear warning people to say away from his kill
•      a runaway diesel engine

One of those, the huge gorilla, transported me to my childhood. When I was little, my grandmother, Mom's mom, would come visit us. She slept in the room with me. You guessed it: she snored. There was something spooky about her snoring. It caused me to envision a gorilla behind the bedroom door. As she snored, this gorilla would become more and more lifelike, more real. Eventually, I could see his nostrils flare as he breathed and see the moisture just inside the rim of those massive nose. Not long after the gorilla became that real, I would begin to scream. Mom and Dad always thought it was shadows coming in through the bathroom window that frightened me. I never told them it was Granny.

Fast forward thirty years. Forrest and I were on a church camping trip. He woke me up crying.

"Daddy. There's a bear outside the tent," he cried in terror. 

I listened a second. "It's OK, son. That's Brother Moudy snoring."

I remember thinking, if I were a child that snoring would have frightened me too. I know that sounds like a tale, but it really happened just like that. 

So what's the point?

None whatsoever. 

After Chicot Two

Since Chicot beat me up, I have been taking it easy in the pool. Tuesday morning I swam a mere 1,450 yards, up 50 whole yards from Monday. John didn't show. That is after he lobbied me to get there earlier. I felt better than Monday, but my pace is still really slow. Who cares?

Tuesday is a long day at work. I teach four straight classes with no lunch break. Then I have to keep office hours. That's when I eat. After that, I go home and change clothes. You know what comes next. On the road, I did 5.29 miles. The shift has begun. Now that the swim is over, I plan to focus on running\, to build my weekly mileage and do some fun runs, some adventure running, maybe some journey runs.

After the roadwork, I went to Plate City. I blasted both upper back and legs. On the pull, I did one-arm bent rows. I will start building that move up. Leflore Steel has some plates of mine. They are supposed to build me a seventy pound dumbbell. That is where I need it, on the bent rows.

I worked the legs hard. I did ten sets of squats and two sets of leg extensions. One of my goals is to increase my leg strength. A lot. I am up in the department some, but I am far from where I want and need to be. The strength will help me achieve some of the objectives I have been dreaming of, like running faster, running farther, and having fun while staying healthy.

Lessons from Chicot IX

 I always like to reflect after I do a long endurance event. Chicot IX is now history and like other big events, it taught me a few things. You can call the swim a failure, a success, or a partial success. I did not meet my goal so in that respect it was a failure. That, ironically, is one of the things I learned.

I really already knew it, but it was almost a relief to have it brought to the front of my consciousness again. I am talking about failure. There is no success, no victory, no significant accomplishment without the risk of failure. In 2013, I set out to run to Noxapater from our home in Greenwood. I failed miserably on the first day and spent the next six weeks on crutches. I learned a lot from that ordeal. One of those lessons that came back now is that one must be willing to fail. I did not and do not want to fail, but I am willing to risk it in order to achieve the victories that I seek. There is no shame in failing if one makes an honest effort to succeed.

Second, I learned that some of the benchmarks that I have developed in training for marathon swims over the years are real, valid; they measure what I thought they measured. One such bench mark is the 20,000 meter week. Years ago I came to the idea that I needed to swim that much per week over the last six weeks before a big swim. For Chicot IX, I made 20,000 meters in only three of my six final weeks of training. That had me worried. Would I have the requisite endurance? I told myself I would be OK even with my yo yo training. But that proved to be only wishful thinking.

Another benchmark I missed this time around was my four-hour swim. I like to work up to a swim of four hours, nonstop, without feeds. Experience has taught me that when I do that, I can swim all day. Literally. The longest I went this year was two hours and twenty minutes and that was several weeks in my rear view mirror.

Chicot Challenge IX, showed me that I was not wrong in my earlier assessments on weekly yardage and the long swim. Those benchmarks were set from trial and error and intuitive feedback from my body in response to training. Now I know I had it right because I did not have the endurance I needed. My shoulders, triceps, and lats were all shot by the time we got to Lake Village after a mere 6.5 miles into what I hoped would be a 13-mile swim. To swim back to the state park would have been a miserable endeavor, and it would have destroyed me.

The best lesson I learned, however, was that I have some really good friends. At the top of the list of friends is my wife Penny Hodge. She has always supported me in every thing I have done, and when she tells me she is proud of me, as she always does after a swim, I almost melt.  

Sheila Mitchell, like my wife, has a heart of gold. Like Penny, she loves to give and to serve. She readily agreed to paddle for the swim. She has done this before. The biggest thing she did, however, was before the swim to insist that I was already a rock star and had nothing to prove. When it came time to tap out, her attitude helped make the decision a guiltless one.

Gerry Johnson has always been one Team Centerville could count on when we needed someone for the crew or the Diabetes Foundation of Mississippi's Oxford walk. The first time he was ever in a kayak, he was paddling for me during Chicot VI. He did a bang up job, and I appreciated it then as I do now.

Gerald Johnson, Gerry's older brother, one of my deacons at Centerville Baptist Church, and a solid all around man, has proved over and over that he is a real friend. He brought his boat which replaced the pontoon from the state park that we lost due to COVID. Not only that, but as always, he paid his own way, and was a true professional in both the boat and in the kayak. He is the absolute best kayaker, always having the kayak right beside me while I swim. The support of these friends overwhelms me. Thank you.

Finally, I learned that sometimes you just can't win. This year, 2020, has served up to all of us a can of butt whip in one or more ways. It caused the rescheduling of the swim, costs us the pontoon boat, and led to the cancellation of many events I train for and compete in which help build my fitness for Chicot. It also resulted in my workload being doubled. That final thing, the workload, had a huge negative impact on my training. At one point, I thought about cancelling the swim. But I kept getting off the deck after getting knocked down again and again and again. They say keep getting up. I did. But even though I got up after the last knockdown, I could not beat the count. Sometimes, you just can't win. It is no shame to lose in such a situation. The fight was honorable. The lessons learned will be used in future battle. Thank you, Jesus, for the spirit to battle on. 

Now I am dreaming not of a rematch with Chicot-- I am sure I will do that at some point-- but of another challenge, another adventure, another way to draw attention to diabetes and funds for the DFM. In due time, I will tell you about it. Until then, keep praying for me and Team Centerville. Thank you, and God bless you.

After Chicot

Chicot IX is past and my focus is now on running, playing, and enjoying Plate City. Monday morning, I met John at the pool. I stretched a lot, swam slowly, and only  a short distance. I did 1,400 yards and 50 yards of kicking. I could feel some residual fatigue and soreness from Saturday. That's OK. I have nothing but running on the agenda so I can take my time recovering.

After work, I shuffled for 6.23 miles. It was not fast, but I felt solid and motivated to run. I have some dreams, some of which I might tell you about in the future. The run did not conclude my working out. I went to Plate City for a bench session. I pressed

11 X 100

12 X 120

10 X 120

  8 X 120

I did some other stuff too, a set of lateral raises, cable raises, and facepulls. In addition, I went for 4:15 on the spin bike. I like that thing, and I plan to build my time up over the upcoming weeks and months. It will add to my aerobic fitness while not stressing my legs. Thank you, Jesus.

Chicot Challenge IX

The plan was to start at 8:00 a.m. When I checked the weather, however, and saw that the prediction was for a temp of 64 at that time, I purposefully started dragging my feet, trying to slow the start so maybe it would warm up a bit. It was September 26, 2020, the date of Chicot Challenge IX.

When Penny, Sheila, and I got to Lake Chicot State Park, Gerald and Gerry were already on hand and had launched the boat. Penny rubbed my back down with Desitin, and I hauled my stuff to Gerald's fine watercraft. We loaded coolers and clothes and people and prepared to launch. 

I stripped down to my jammers but kept on a pair of crocs so I would not fall on the landing. It is always slick, and I have busted it before. Gerald led us in prayer, then I carefully waded into the 71 degree water. I made it about a foot in when my legs, despite my best efforts, went out from under me. I went down hard on my back onto the unforgiving concrete. Thank the Lord, I was not injured.

I stood up and immediately was cold so I said, "Start the watches. I'm going." And just like that, Chicot Challenge IX was underway. The water felt cold and at that temp I knew it would all day. I can do 71, but it is not fun. You never feel warm at that temp. At least I don't. Swim the Suck was always 68 to 72. Mile ten was just as cold as mile one. Sigh.

At the first feeding, I asked how far I had swum. Nobody knew. I asked Sheila who was in the kayak and was wearing one of my Garmins and she said, "175."

"Huh?"

"175," she repeated.

So I started back swimming not knowing how far I had come. I just wanted to get an idea of my pace. I felt like I was moving pretty well, but 175 made no sense. Maybe she meant 1.75 miles, but that was too fast. I feed every forty-five minutes and I cannot swim 1.75 miles in that time. What the heck could that mean? As I started back stroking, I tried to figure it out, but try as I may, I just could not make sense of what she was reading, or misreading.

At the second feeding I asked the same question. Sheila said, "150." I asked Gerald who had another of my Garmins on the dash of his boat. He retrieved it and held it over the edge of the gunwale for me to see. All it read was zeros. No one had started that one. And just like before, 150 made zero sense.

Somewhere along here, I began to lose my left leg. I had read about this phenomena but had never experienced it. Usually, my feet go numb, and then my fingers won't hold the water when I pull if my body gets too cold. Now my left leg was growing numb, and although it would move, it did not move well. The sun came out, however, for about twenty minutes, just enough for my leg to come back.

After that, I finally got to where I could see the Causeway bridge up ahead. That is a milestone on the way to Lake Village. As usual, the fishermen lined the banks under the bridge. Gerald took the motorboat ahead of me to protect me from potential problems from other boaters. Only later I thought that I should have raised my head and yelled out, "Stop. Stop. Come back," as I swam behind the boat. They might have bought it, that I had fallen out and was chasing the boat. It was worth a try.

On the other side of the causeway, I began the slow trek to Lake Village. The plan was to swim the 6.5 miles to downtown and then back to the State Park. At my next feeding, I asked the time. It didn't take a socket rientist to figure that we would not get back to the State Park by 3:30 when they wanted the kayak. I had not realized that this late in the year they close earlier. Or maybe it's COVID, but they close now at 4:00 and wanted the kayak at 3:30. We did not start until 8:36.

Around this time, a problem that had been developing was coming to a crises point. I had not been able to pee in the water all morning. It is not easy to do. Usually you wait until you have to go real bad then you slow the stroke rate and the intensity of the pull and try to relax. That was not working. I had even rolled onto my back a time or two and tried to relax and pee while on my back. But it did not work. Finally, I swam to the boat and announced that I had to hang on. You are not supposed to touch the boat in an open water swim, but this is our swim and we can do what we want. I hung on the side for a few minutes and finally was able to pee.

After that it was back to the grind. The water had grown choppy, and I was getting tired. I now knew that the time issue aside, swimming back would be unwise. A shoulder was hurting, an elbow was hurting, and hand was in pain. To swim back would be to risk injury to destroy myself.

Providentially, my crew had already made it easy for me to be sensible. Sheila had told me three times, "You are already a rock star. You don't have anything to prove." Penny had told me several times not to suffer in the cold. John told me the week before not to risk injury. Gerald told me something to the effect of those other statements. Just a few years ago, I swam so far that my arms fell off. That resulted in an eighteen month period of pain, rehabilitation, and recovery. I did not want to go through that again.

The next time I had to pee, Penny asked me if I was going to be able to do it. I answered, "No. We are stopping at Lake Village." I had no sadness, no sense of defeat in making that call. It was the wise thing, the right thing to do.

It seemed to take forever to get there. I touched the wall in the swimming area between the two fishing piers just below the courthouse at 1:16. The swim had taken four hours, forty-four minutes, and thirty-nine seconds. That is almost five hours of being cold, and beaten down by the waves. 

The press was not present. None of my students-- some said they were coming-- had shown up. Unusually absent was the DFM. Only a single local who was hanging out at the park, wanted to give me a high five. 

"I have a friend who swims to over there and back," he said pointing to the other side. "He thinks that is something. Wait 'till I tell him about this", he said excitedly.

I climbed out and went to the boat. Penny handed me a towel. I wrapped up trying to get warm. She asked me if I was alright. She was referring to my mental state. I told her I was fine. It was OK. And it was. 

I learned some things. I will write about those later. Thank you, Jesus, for taking care of us and keeping us safe. Thank you, crew, for all you do. Thank you who prayed, cheered, and donated. God bless you all.

Photo credits: Sheila Mitchell and Gerry Johnson

9/21 - 9/27

It was a week. It was a different week. It was a good week. It was a week of failure. I'll be brief. 

Monday I started the training/taper cycle with a run/swim/run. That is what I have been doing since John has been out. I shuffled 2.91 miles to the pool, swam outdoors for 3,600 meters, and ran back 3.21 miles. The water temp felt like it was 77 or 78. That is not a bad temp, but it caused a little alarm to go off inside my head. There were some cool nights and some rain in the forecasts. That can only cause the water temps to drop which could have a negative impact on Chicot.

Tuesday, John was back so the swimming moved indoors and to the early morning. I went 2,550 yards straight. This was taper week, remember, and I was attempting to get fresh. I wanted to lift, but John needed me to go to the pharmacy for him. I also wanted to keep my twenty-mile running weeks up so I had on tap my longest shuffle of the week. I went 7.03 miles.

Wednesday was more indoor swimming. I cut it to 2,450 easy yards. In the afternoon, I shuffled 4.36 miles. The upper body weight lifting had been cancelled for the whole week. I was still looking, however, for a big leg day. I don't remember why, but I did not get it done Wednesday either.

Thursday I swam only 1,650 yards. In the afternoon, I did 3.89 miles of roadwork. I finally got my big leg day in with ten sets of squats and some other stuff.

Friday was all rest, cleaning the truck, and packing. A reporter from the Greenwood Commonwealth came by. Also, I sold a boat motor to some people from Vicksburg. Penny asked me yesterday what I was doing with the money from the stuff I was selling. 

"It is going into my gym fund," I told her.

"You don't need a gym fund," she told me.

What's need got to do with it?

Saturday was Chicot Challenge IX. I failed. I swam one half of the attempted 13 miles. That gave me 6.5 miles or 10,458 meters for the day.

For the week, I

swam 20,135 meters,

ran 21.4 miles,

spun 4:00, and

lifted weights one time.

So it was a full week, I will do a complete write up of the Chicot swim in a day or two. To you who supported us in prayer, thank you. To you who have donated to the Diabetes Foundation of Mississippi, thank you and God bless you. And to God who kept us safe during the swim, thank you.

Friday Before

I slept late, to about 7:30. When I arose, I moved slowly and gingerly. I drank coffee, blogged, and hung out with the cats. This was Friday before Chicot Challenge IX, and I was doing as little as possible. 

When I did move around, it was to go outside and start cleaning out the backseat of my truck. It was full of stuff. We have been moving, and my backseat was unsittable for the past several weeks. Sheila Mitchell, a member of Team Centerville, would be riding with us to Lake Village. I had to get ready.

So I cleaned, and packed, and drained the coffee pot one cup at a time. Penny and I packed our stuff, loaded our stuff, and left room for Sheila and her stuff. During all of this, I was in contact with someone on Facebook about a outboard motor I had for sale. Then a reporter from the Commonwealth called. We talked on the phone, then he came over to take a picture. While he was there, he took a few photos of Pee Wee. I hoped they would make the paper because he is an extremely handsome hound.

We left about 3:30 after Sheila got off work and arrived at the Hideout. We left full of joy, excitement, and expectation. Not really. There was some of that, but for me there was also a measure of trepidation. I was concerned about my fitness level, the water temperature, and if I would be able to pull it off again.

We had a nice drive over and checked into the Days Inn. The Lighthouse Inn, our headquarters for the past few years, was closed. After settling in, we, Penny, Sheila, Gerald and Gerry (who were already there) went out for supper. We drove to Foxx's Pizza. That is where I like to eat the night before. Pizza, with all it carbs, fat, and sodium, is the perfect night before meal for an extreme endurance event. 

Foxx's was only open for take out. We wanted to sit down together so we went to the Mexican which was open for dine in. The meal was good and the company better. Then we retired to the motel to rest for Saturday.

Last Training Day

 Thursday was my last day of training before Chicot. Or maybe I should say it was my last day of tapering before total rest. I did get up and go to the pool unlike my training partner who was MIA. I swam a straight 1,650 in a sluggish 33:21. While I was there changing clothes after the swim, Jack Matthews came in. He and Michael Boler, and Rob White come in at 6:00 to swim. Yesterday, however, Jack told me they were not going to be there Thursday but he wanted to donate. So he came in and brought a check. God bless him.

It was a long day at work. I teach four straight classed on Tuesday and Thursday. When I got home, I rested some and then went out for a shuffle. I did an easy 3.87 miles. That gave me my requisite twenty-mile running week so I can rest Friday. Friday I plan to sleep late and do little.

I finally did the leg workout I have tried to fit in all week. I did loads of squats, ten sets, plus some extensions, and calf raises, standing and seated. I called it a day after that and went in and watched Deadliest Catch with the cats being sweet and hanging out with me.

Thank you, Jesus, for the health to do this challenge. Thank you for the donations that have come it. Bless those who have given and move on others to give also.

Chicot Nerves

 I always get them, a case of nerves before Chicot, but this time there is something new: a sense of dread. I am dreadful, fearful, apprehensive about Saturday's big swim for several reasons. One reason in my lack of training. I have trained and for much of the year I have trained hard. As Chicot approached, however, I have found it more and more difficult to get in the volume of work I am accustomed to. This difficulty has in large part been due to work. Our school president has declared war on his faculty. I am hugely overworked and severely stressed. This stress has hit Chicot prep right between the eyes.

Not only am I concerned about the lack of the long swim that I like for my physical and mental well being, I am somewhat concerned about the water temperature. Monday was the last time I swam outdoors. The water felt like it was 77 or 78 degrees Fahrenheit. I can do that, but that is getting a little cool. Since then, the nights have dropped into the 60s and for two days the sun has not shown while the cold rain has fallen. The result is that the water temps cannot do anything except go down. Will I be able to endure eight hours of swimming in cool water?

Another concern is the lack of a pontoon boat. COVID has affected even that. Without the big boat, the crew shrinks. The larger the crew the better I perform. It just works that way. The pontoon makes it possible for Penny to be on board. I am always motivated to show out for her. Gerald is bringing his fishing boat. I don't know if Penny will come along on it or not. If she does, that is a long time in a fishing boat without comfortable seats.

In short, I am not confident that this will go well. In the past, I have said that confidence is overrated. I do believe that. Audacity is the thing. I have audacity. But sometimes audacity meets its match. Will it Saturday in the cool waters of Lake Chicot? Only God knows and time will tell. Please pray for us, for me, for the swim. And donate. Give the the Diabetes Foundation of Mississippi in the name of the Chicot Challenge.

   Diabetes Foundation of Mississippi

   800 Avery Blvd, Suite 100

   Ridgeland, Mississippi 39157

Or give online at msdiabetes.org

Countdown Cutback

I cut things back a little more Wednesday. Tuesday I swam 2,550 yards. Wednesday, however, I cut that back to 2,450 yards. That is not much of a reduction, but it is a slight scale back. 

 Not only did I cut the swimming back a tad, but I shortened the road work by almost three miles going a simple 4.36 as opposed to the 7.03 I did Tuesday. I intended to do my squat workout, but John called and needed me to go to the pharmacy for him. If you have ever had to deal with a pharmacy, you should have all the motivation you will ever need for taking care of your health.

CVS is one of the biggest aggravations of my wife's life. It bleeds over to me through her and sometimes through John. When he had his ankle surgery, I was going to the pharmacy every single day. Yes, every day.  That is not the life I want. We don't always get what we want, but I am fighting hard to maintain my health. Thank you, Jesus, that I do not have to do that. It is time consuming, expensive, and frustrating. John once told me that their pharmacy bill totals over $30,000 annually. The pharmacy texts and says the prescription is ready. You get there and it is not. Often they saw come back later. Twice. Other times they get things mixed up which is what happened Wednesday. Someone else had picked up his prescription, but I had to go and get it right.

Sigh.

That extra trip to CVS and then to Golden Age knocked me out of my leg workout.

Sigh.

Thank you, Jesus, that I have a leg workout and a gym to do it in. Maybe today.

Weather and Dreams

 Of all the things people love to complain about, the weather is at the top of the list for most. I have done my share of it also. It is too hot, too cold, too rainy, too dry. 

Last September was one for the ages. I watch the weather pretty close. I have always either hunted or run or both so the temperature and precipitation are big issues with how I can enjoy my avocation. Normally September is a hot month, but it is not the killing hot of July and August. The month might start with temps in the 90s, but they quickly fall into the upper 80s. Believe me, when you are running outdoors, the upper 80s are a world away from 90anything.

Last September was the hottest month of all 2019, at least it was in the Greenwood, Mississippi are. The official high, not the heat index but the actual high, was 99 or 100 every single day of the month. Every. Single. Day. Not only that, but the heat wave lasted until October the 6th. It rained for the first time in about forty days on the 7th of October and from then on the weather was typical.

This year. Thank you, Jesus. 

The month started with highs in the 90s, and after a week or so they dropped into the 80s. And then BOOM, they are cool and running is fun and life is good. This is the way it is supposed to be or at least the way it usually is. I am now so looking forward to long Friday runs. This week, I will be sleeping late trying to get fresh for Chicot Saturday. But after that, my plans are for running adventures every Friday the weather will permit. If the weather does not permit, I will do some kind of crazy workout at Plate City.

Already I have done a couple of Friday forays. I parked at New Hope Church on Humphrey Highway and ran some of the hills and over to Mount Olive Baptist Church and back. I went to Carrollton, parked at Dollar General, and did a long run on Highway 17. My plan for next week is to run from the Hideout to Junior Barrentine's. I don't even know how far that is.

Recently, I took a composition notebook and wrote down all my dream runs for the upcoming winter. I filled one page and started another. Soon I want to go to Little Mountain near Mathiston and run up and down it several times. I want to make the big loops from Greenwood. I want to go to the Big Black River on Highway 407 and run up and down that monster hill that climbs out of the bottom and back into the hills. And I have a list of many many more.

If God continues to give me health, I should have a lot of fun the fall and winter and enter the spring in really good shape. Will we have the spring races? I sure hope so. Just yesterday I found out that Vardeman has been cancelled. That race and festival quickly became my favorite. Now the topsy turvy nature of 2020 has claimed another victim. 

Praise God anyway.

John Back

 John called at 4:00 a.m. Monday morning. He called back at 4:28 and 4:44. I answered his fourth call at 5:00. He wanted to swim. Since he has been out the past several weeks, I have reverted to swimming in the afternoon. I did not give in to his pleading to meet him at the pool. By the way, friends don't call friends at 4:00 a.m. They just don't.

I did agree to meet him Tuesday morning at 5:00. Guess what? You got it, he was late. And after the swim, when the other guys were coming in and we has to get out, he said, "We need to get here earlier tomorrow." 

If you have been reading this blog for the past seven years, you might want to know if I exploded on him. I did not. I only mumbled, "Not this week," but this is going to be a point of contention in the near future.

He always wants me to get up earlier and get there sooner while he is always late. The world waits on John. Did I mention that he was an only child. That explains a lot. Plus he has never worked a job where he had to be somewhere at a certain. time. Never. It shows.

I swam 2,550 yards straight and easy. That comes out to 2,239 meters. The taper has begun. After work, I went out for a shuffle and did 7.03 miles. I had scheduled a  leg workout at Plate City, but John called. To make a short story long, I had to go to the pharmacy for him and take the pickup to his apartment.

Sigh. Another workout missed.

Thank you, Jesus, for what I did.

Countdown to Chicot IX

The countdown to Chicot Challenge IX has begun. Saturday is the day. Usually this week is a radical taper time for me as I attempt to get fresh from the massive training I have been doing. This time around, however, I am coming off an 8,000 meter week, and I am very insecure about my fitness. Consequently, I swam farther Monday than I normally do. Was it far enough to help my fitness? I don't know.

I shuffled to the pool taking 2.91 miles to get there. The outdoor water felt amazingly chilly. My guess it that it was 77 or 78 degrees. I stroked for 3,600 straight then shuffled home taking 3.21 miles to get there. That was it. I did not lift. Tomorrow I plan to do legs, but the upper body is off from the weights this week.

So I got a decent training day in and one that should not leave me too fatigued. The roadwork totaled 6.12 miles and the swimming hit 3,600 meters. I plan to get twenty plus miles in on the road although a true taper would cut that back to ten or fewer. Tomorrow I cut the distance back a bit more in the water. 

Thank you, Jesus, for the opportunity to swim and for good friends who will help. Gerald has a room in Lake Village. So do Penny and I, and Sheila is going with us. Gerry contacted me last night to ask if all was still on. I have not heard from MJ Staples so I assume she is not coming. If she shows up, all the better.

9/14 - 9/20

This was Oaks week which meant I had to try to train some and get fresh at the same time. I did that by shifting my hard work towards the front of the week, Monday and Tuesday and then tapering off. Monday, I slept in and did not run to the pool. I did my multi-paced run, and my heavy squat day.

Tuesday, I shuffled to the pool, 1.98 miles there, swam 2,100 meters, and ran home for an additional 2.28 miles. That gave me 4.26 miles of roadwork for the day.

Wednesday, I shuffled to and from the pool. I went there in 1.8 and came back in 1.8 for 3.6 miles. At the pool I swam 2,800 meters. At home, I did some light lifting, light because I was pressed for time. It was getting late, and I do not like getting bit by mosquitoes. 

Thursday. I did the 1.8 and 1.8 again. This time I swam a bit farther, 3,400 meters, but when I got home, I was done.

Friday, I slept in since it was my first Friday off in the last five. Yeah, they-- our administration-- want our Fridays so bad they have hemorroids. I had breakfast with a friend and then drove to Clarksdale to pick up a spin bike. That is a nice addition to the gym.

Saturday was the Oaks, the first race I have done since the Mississippi River Marathon and Half in February. That made things feel a little bit like normal. I ran about what I thought I would, a 10:08 pace. I want more, better, faster. Last night, I wrote out a plan to run faster next year. Now, I have to execute the plan. In the afternoon, I went to Plate City and lifted both push and pull. Probably I will not upper body lift next week, but save it for Chicot. Saturday is Chicot. If you pray, please put me and the crew at the top of your list.

For the week, I

swam a mere 8,300 meters,

lifted weights three times, 

spun 3:30,

ran 20.91 miles.

That was not a bad week if it was this week. It reads like a Chicot taper week. But it is what it is. Thank you, Jesus.

300 Oaks

It was a touch of normalcy during a year when the world is turned upside down. The 300 Oaks that is. We had it Saturday and for a little while it seemed like old times. Even there, however, signs of our crazy world were evident. Some people wore masks. We lined up to start the 10K on pre-drawn marks designed to keep us socially distanced. The crowd was small compared to past years. But we were there, and I was doing my first race since February. 

The weather was perfect and I mean absolutely perfect. I ran the following pace per mile

1 - 9:50

2 - 9:58

3 - 10:05

4 - 10:26

5 - 10:42

6 - 10:25

7 - 8:10

That gave me a 1:02:55.1 which was good enough for first place in the men's 60+ division. Notice 60+. I was looking forward to ageing up next summer, going into the 65 to 69 age group, but all the last runs I have done have dropped the older groups. Dude, I lived a long time to get to where I can race old men. I want my old man group.

The drama of the day happened when a fat man-- it's usually a fat woman, but not this time-- passed me in the first mile. I said to myself, he will come back after a while. He did not. I only saw him again after four miles when we were on the linear park trail. I chased him for over a mile and caught him a little past the five-mile mark. He fought back when I tried to pass him. After I got in front of him, I was running scared. He is the reason that mile six pace drops. 

After it was over, I was satisfied. That was about what I expected to be able to do. When I checked last year's training diary, however, I was horrified to find that I ran a little faster then. And last year was hot, very hot. Dude, am I getting old? I know I am, but I have so many more miles under my belt this year, plus all the weight training, squats, leg presses, and other moves. I have even done some interval work lately.

Next year I have to run faster. I have to. I am a few pounds heavier this year than last. So I need to lose weight, keep the mileage up, increase the strength training, and do more interval training. After all, I now have to compete with men from 60 to 100. That is a forty year span. Lord, help me. And Lord thank you for the race, for the weather, and for the health to take a stab at it.

No Train

 I. Did. Not. Train. At. All.

Friday. 

My first Friday off since starting back to work.

Lazy. Busy. Truly needing the rest.

First I had lunch with my old friend, Daniel Collins. He had forgotten. His wife implored me to be patient with him. That was no problem. She helped him dress in the front yard. Danny is showing his age.

We went the Acy's. They have the best short-order cooking in the world. Prove me wrong. I got three eggs over easy, grits, two pieces of sausage, and toast. That's a big breakfast right there. I don't care who you are.

While we were there, we had to wait for the coffee. The cook was making tea in the coffee machine. On the counter there was a large Tupperware pitcher. It was filled about forty percent with a white substance. Sugar? I kept my eyes on it. Sure enough, when the tea was made, she poured it into the pitcher. So the tea was literally fifty percent sugar by volume. That, my friend, is sweat tea in the South.

We had a nice meal and a better visit. On the way back to town, we talked about going to Grenada the next time. Penny and I ate at Pap's last Friday night. They do fish and steaks. I found them on Facebook. They also have a breakfast buffet. 

After getting home, I left for Clarksdale. I was on a quest to Bears Gym to look at a spin bike. The one I have, gifted me by Gerald Johnson, has not fared well in the weather. Plate City on Monroe was all outdoors. It grinds, then vibrates, and one gets the idea that it is going to explode. I did use it so when I found one of those commercial spin bikes on Facebook Market Place for sale, I, like a fish in a lake, I decided to bite. I bought the bike. The trip there and back took the whole morning. When I got home to the Hideout, Simon, who is now working next door, saw me unloading and came to my aid. That Simon is a good man. So Plate City just received another upgrade. That makes two this week.

I called John about swimming. He had phoned the night before. He wanted in the pool. He has been out for the past three weeks with his wife in the hospital. He had something going on and couldn't make it. I left the Hideout and went first to the Chamber of Commerce to pick up my and Forrest's packets. While there, someone, a twenty-something woman, overheard me utter my last name.

She whirled and with wide eyes inquired, "Are you Forrest's dad?"

That is what I encounter daily. I am Forrest's dad. No, I don't mind. It just amazes me that everyone knows my son and loves him.

I drove to Twin Rivers. There was a woman sunbather at the pool. I was not going to go in there. They never stay around long enough to see that I am just there to swim and could not look at them if I wanted to. My face points to the bottom of the pool. But generally, they react badly to my arrival. I have seen them throw things, snatch things, and beat it out of there like school kids at the final bell.

So I parked at the little pool, but alas the door was locked. Remember, I have been running to the pool, swimming, and running home? Even though I have been swimming the big pool, I put the key to the little pool in my Fuelbelt so I would have it if, like now, I needed it. 

When I got back home, instead of getting my key, I got into the bed. The cats were happy about that. I stayed there, in bed, until Penny came home from the grocery store.

We went out to eat. I still wanted to be in bed. I almost dozed off at the table. Thank you, Jesus, for bed. "He giveth His beloved rest" (Psalm 127:2).

Again

 I slept in again. Surprised? I'm not. So I did what I have been doing all week: after work and a nap, I ran to the pool, swam, and shuffled home. I did the short route, straight there and back. At the pool, the water felt a bit cooler. I swam

3,400 straight in one hour and something. I can't remember and for some reason I did not record it in my training diary. 

Then I shuffled slowly home. I am trying to let the legs rest a little. Saturday is the 300 Oaks. I have a good base, but my training pace has been so slow that I don't know what to expect. I keep hoping that I will blow it out. My average training run is now over fourteen minutes per mile. Yeah, that slow. I have the miles and the weight training. So why am I plodding like this?

It can't be age. And it can't be laziness. It might have something to do with my weight, but I really  don't have an answer. Saturday will tell me a lot about where I am.

Help me, Jesus.

Light Day

I slept in again Wednesday morning. When I left Moorhead, however, I was nodding off to sleep while I motored east on Highway 82. I got home and took a nap going sound to sleep. 

After arising from my rest, I put on swim jammer and running attire and headed for Twin Rivers. I did not, however, add any blocks but went straight there and straight home. There I swam 2,800 meters straight in 1:00:50. My watch gave me credit for a 1:56 pace. Huh? It must be calculating on 100s yard even though the watch is set on a 50 meter pool. For 2,800 meters, at 2:00 pace would be 56 minutes.

So I shuffled home. It was 1.8 miles each way giving me a decent swim and a decent run. At home, I took off my wet jammer and went to Plate City.

At the gym, I did three light bench press sets with dumbbells and four sets of reverse flys. It was a light day all the way around, but at least I was out there doing something.

Thank you, Jesus.

Better than a Poke in the Eye

I am still in survival mode and it looks like that is what Chicot will be, a survival sufferfest. I slept in because I needed the rest. After work, I finally took some plates over to Leflore Steel to get a big dumbbell made. For me, seventy pounds is a big one, and I will only use it for one-armed rows.

I then decided to run to Twin Rivers, swim, and run home. I added a block and got there with 1.98 miles. The little pool had two people inside it, so I went to the big one. I swam 2,100, put on my clothes, and shuffled home. On the way home, I did 2.28 miles. 

I wanted to lift weights, but it was getting dark and I don't like to get bitten by mosquitoes. It is dangerous. Several diseases are transmitted that way, West Nile being one of them.

In Trouble

 I slept in Monday morning. Dude, with a doubled workload, I am strictly in survival mode. After work, I did a version of my 5K Special. A say a version because I did not do the squats beforehand. Saturday is the 300 Oaks. I need to be fresh for that. So I am doing the hard stuff early in the week and will taper towards the weekend. That means I ran and then instead of doing the light leg work, I did the heavy sets.

Also, I adjusted the intervals a bit. I warmed up a small amount while I shuffled to the river trail. I did not go into the woods, but stayed on the paved trail. As soon as I hit it, a mere .28 into the run, I started my older Garmin and did my first interval, .26 of a mile at a 8:44 pace. Once that was a slow training pace, but now for me that is blazing fast. Will I ever get back to a decent pace?

I did five .25s (the first was .26) and one .15 and then shuffled home for a 3.33 mile effort. Then I did my heavy leg workout at Plate City. I performed box squats but used the weights and set I did last week. This time, however, I upped the reps on the first two sets, and added a single set of one rep at the end with an additional five pounds. That is progression. I will do two reps next week on the final set. That is ______, you guessed it, progression.

So I ran and lifted lower body but did no swimming. Chicot is coming up and I am just going through the motions, and fewer motions each week. I'm in trouble but it is what it is. Thank you, Jesus, that I can be in trouble. "A living dog is better than a dead lion" (Ecclesiastes 9:4).

Blogger Rant

 I hate this new blogger. It looks goofy. The font is going to cause me to destroy my computer, and I have to bang on it to get it to put a curser in the text box. Why do so many upgrades turn out to be downgrades?

First, they changed the looks when I open up on my side to get ready to post. It looks weird, worse, pitiful. Who thought this was a good idea? I suppose I am officially old because I do not like unnecessary changes. Not only does it look goofy, but I could not figure out how to get to the actual blog. I went to Help and found a score of other people were screaming about the same thing: they hated the look and they did not know how to view their own blog.

Sigh.

Then there is the font thing. That was something of a problem before. The default font is ugly and hard to read so I always type in Verdana. It looks nice and I can read it. The problem now is that it does not want to change. I change the font, and it types the default. I change it again and sometimes it changes and sometimes I have to do it a third time. When I hit Enter, it reverts to Default font. I yell. It doesn't care. Why don't they let us have some control?

Even worse than that, when I start to type, the curser is non-existent. I have to put it there and click, put it there again and click, put it there again and click, yell and click, throw something and click. Finally, it starts typing.

Then there is one more thing that I didn't put in the intro. When I hit Enter, I get a double-space. I don't want a double-space when I hit Enter. Whey don't they think we can handle a double Enter. This screws the looks up when I post a list, like what I lifted the day before. Now it is spaced out in a way that looks goofy and I can't fix it.

I wish they had just left it alone. Well, that is my rant for today. Thanks for listening.

9/7 - 9/13

 It wasn't what I needed in terms of total volume or a long swim, but the week is now history and it is what it is. Monday morning I failed to get up and swim with the bats. I did shuffle 3.01 miles and lift weights. Tuesday I arose early and was swimming at a quarter till 5:00 while the bats circled overhead. On the road, I did 4.35 miles, and in the gym I did bench presses.

Wednesday I ran 5.1 after work an after sleeping late. In the gym I did Lenny rows and reverse flys. Thursday, I hit the water early and hard for 5,600 meters. I also did 3.53 miles of road work and a light session on the legs.

Friday I slept in, avoided the gym, and only a 6.77 miles session on the road prevented the day from being a total training failure. Saturday, I swam the little pool for the first time in a long time and went 5,650 yards. I also worked my lats at the gym. 

For the week, I

swam 15,364 meters, 

ran 22.76 miles, and 

lifted weights five times.

I needed both a longer swim and more total meters for the week, but it is too late now. Thank you, Jesus, for what I did get done.

Saturday

My alarm was set for 4:28 a.m. It went off, and I went back to sleep. The fatigue level was just too high. I stayed in bed until 2:00 p.m. I napped, studied for Sunday, did a little MDCC work, and watched some college football. Then I felt rested enough to go to the pool. 

I checked out the big pool at Twin Rivers. There were three or four kids in there. It would have been a good day to swim out there because it was overcast, but I would not chance it with children inside the gate. I am too worn out now to endure what they would have put me through.

So I got in the indoor pool and just swam, no sets, so plan. I went for 5,650 yards (5,164 meters). This was only my third swim of the week, but I hit 15,864 meters in those few trips to the pool. 

At home, I rested some more and then went to Plate City. I was due for both push and pull. On the push, I did bench presses, of course, for

15 X 100

11 X 120

3 X 140

3 X 140

4 X 140

Sorry about the spacing. Blogger has changed some things and as so often happens, the changes are a step backwards. Now, whenever I hit the Enter button, I get an automatic double space, and I can't fix it. It looks crummy but that is progress.

On the lat pull down, I pulled

31 X 50

12 X 65

15 X 65

16 X 65

10 X 70

I did a few other things, but that was pretty much it. Maybe I can hit some big training next week. The Oaks is coming up Saturday, and of course I have to work like never before. The very next Saturday is Chicot. Gerald informed me that the motels opened back up over there. They were closed due to COVID. So I went online and secured reservations.

Thank God for a reasonable week of training.

One

 One.

One?

Yep.

Are you sick?

No, just extremely tired.

Getting too old?

Maybe. But mostly it's work. My workload was doubled this semester. I'm overwhelmed. Frustrated. Angry. Wanting to assault someone. I'm a dangerous man right now.

Sounds like you need some cat therapy.

I'm getting that daily. Without it I am sure I would be in jail already.

When are things going to get better for you?

I don't know. Our president is trying to get us to quit. So he will do something else again next year.

Why is he trying to get his faculty to quit?

Connect the dots.

What dots?

That is all I will say until I am no longer employed by MDCC.

OK. So how far did you swim?

I didn't.

What!?!?!

I set my alarm for 4:28 a.m. I turned it off and went back to sleep.

You did not swim later?

I took a shuffle. I did not have the energy or drive or time to do both much less three.

Wow. So how is Chicot going to go?

It will likely be a sufferfest. I have done the best I could, but I am not in the shape I want to be in.

Anything I can do for you?

Pray. Please.

I will.

Thank you.

Depression

I just watched a video on Twitter where Scott Bayless criticizes Dak Prescot for admitting he was depressed after Dak's brother committed suicide. I have an issue with that. 

I am 64-years old and have been depressed exactly one time in my life. One time in 64 years so I think I can say that I am not the depressed type. I am not prone to be depressed. I am generally positive and always think that things will work out, will be OK. I am a Christian and have a strong faith in God. I believe He holds my destiny.

When I became depressed, I could not get out of bed most days. Day after day, I lay in bed and thought, I need to get up and do something. But I couldn't. It was like I was paralyzed. I got up only to use the bathroom and get more coffee. This experience taught me one thing: it taught me that I could not talk my way out of depression. I could not convince myself that I should not be this way. I could not count my blessings and be OK. Depression is something that happens, it's real, and when it hits, it is beyond your control.

I hope this never happens to you. I hope you never understand how devastating and debilitating depression can be. But I also hope that you have some sort of pity, sympathy on those who get blindsided by this devastation that they did not choose and probably did not even see coming. Telling them to get over it or reminding them that things will be OK will not fix the problem. 

In fact, I don't know what will fix the problem. For me it was a friend who called and wanted to ride bicycles. I didn't want to but I said yes. That made me get out of bed, get dressed, and air up my bicycle tires. We drove to Money, Mississippi, talked, and took a strenuous ride. We did it again the next day and the next, and then I began to recover, not all at once, but a little at a time. I think it was the companionship, the fresh air, the sunshine, and the physical exertion that releases all sorts of hormones into the human brain.

Now I am not so judgmental to people who suffer this condition. I know sometimes it is the genetic hand they have been dealt. Sometimes it is the blows that life deals to us all that overwhelms them. For me it was loss. One loss after another loss after another. Then I was in the pit and I could not talk myself out of it.

I still don't know what to tell anyone who is suffering from depression. I only know to say this to those who aren't: except for the grace of God, there go you.

An aunt of mine used to say, "You better learn some humility before God has to teach it to you." That pretty well sums up my message. Think about it. Pray about it. Be merciful to others.

Thursday Running Over

Thursday was another big training day. I was swimming by 4:45 a.m., and the bats were circling above me.  That is a little weird, spooky, creepy. I went for 2:14:42 and racked up 5,600 meters, my most yet before work during this Chicot buildup.

Work was long. I teach four classes on Tuesday and Thursday, and I have no lunch break. When my fourth class ends, I am dizzy and ready to go home and go to bed. That is what I did when I got to leave. I went sound to sleep only to get up and do MDCC work on the computer before going to purchase some new running shoes. I got to where I could not tell my best pair of runners from the old ones I mow the lawn in. That is when it's time to make a new purchase.

With my new shoes, I did the latest edition of my 5K Special. A twenty-three reps set of squats was followed immediately by an interval run, performing five hard quarter miles with a .12 tacked on to the end. This one had me sucking air and should improve my V02Max. Maybe I can get my pace from a 14 minute per mile slog to a crisp 13:30. Don't laugh. You will get old one day too. Or you will die young.

When I finished the run, I finished the day. Inside, I showered, shaved, and got in bed. That is where I stayed for the remainder of the night.

Chicot Training

The annual Chicot Challenge is racing towards me, and I am less than prepared. From my experience, I am down to days to impact my fitness between now and September the 26th. The week of the swim is always a radical taper week. The week before is a training week, but one in which the numbers are intentionally trending downwards. Two weeks before, the week we are in now, is the last week to really put some gas in the tank, so to speak. 

The last seven weeks' totals look like this:

14,805

20,035 

20,500

12,700

20,000

20,100

All of that is a little short of where it needs to be. But more than weekly volume, I need a big day, a huge day, a monster day. Lord help me get it. This. Week.

Another Dry Day

I woke up at 3:00 a.m. I was on my stomach. I never sleep on my stomach. My feet were hanging off the bed by about twenty-four inches and one knee was in pain. Not only that, but my neck hurt as did my shoulder. Since the shoulder pain frightened me, I turned my alarm off. No swimming with a bum shoulder.

When I got up three hours later, the shoulder pain was gone. Too late, however, for a swim. Wednesday is a Moorhead day. I leave the house within minutes of 7:00. After my tour of duty, I went home, changed clothes, and hit the road. I shuffled 5.1 miles which gave me a pretty good start to the week. 

After the road work, it was time for gym work. I was lazy. I was tired. I cut things to the bone. Mostly I did Lenny rows for

20 X 115
16 X 125
12 X 135
10 X 140

Also I did a few reverse flys and some rotator cuff work. 

Now I am pondering how to structure the rest of the week. I need a really big swim. For this week, 20,000 meters is an impossibility having missed two mornings already. But it can still be a good week if I can get in that monster swim. The most I have swum in Chicot prep thus far is 6,800 meters. I need more. Lord help me to get it.

Seven Surface Run

Tuesday was a pretty big day, and it started with a pretty big swim. I was stroking by seven minutes until 5:00 a.m. and went for a little over two hours straight amassing 5,100 meters. Not bad. Not good as far as pace goes, but the kind of distance I need and more.

Then I taught four classes at the Greenwood Center. Not bad. After school, I went out for some road work and wound up running on seven surfaces. I left the house on asphalt, went straight to the levee where I hit grass. Going up and over the levee, I entered the Yazoo River Trail where I found some forgiving dirt.

The always delightful Yazoo River Trail

I shuffled about 3/4ths of a mile on the trail before coming out and going back up the levee on grass where I crossed the new bridge on concrete. When I transversed the bridge, I took Front Street on ancient brick. I went to Howard Street and ran the sidewalk south for three blocks, crossed the street and ran back the other side. The sidewalks on Howard are covered with new brick, and with the wheelchair accessible crossings, it is a joy to run.

Back to Front Street, I went to Keesler Bridge and crossed it mostly on wood for my sixth surface of the day. There are not many place where you can run on wood, but the old bridge, as we call it, is one of them. I ran down the Boulevard awhile then headed home. Somewhere before I got home, I shuffled an alley to get one of my favorite surfaces, gravel. That made seven and a total of 4.35 miles.

With a big swim and a seven-surface run done, it was time for Plate City. I was so fatigued that I could not even bear the idea of doing push and pull so I did push only. On the bench, I pressed

21 X 102
15 X 112
12 X 117

That was followed by a set of triceps pushdowns for 26 X 30. With a little rotator cuff work thrown in, I was done.

Thank you, Jesus.

Easy Day of Hard Work

With Monday being Labor Day, I had an easy day of hard work. Like Saturday, I slept in and started slow. When I did get out and run, it was for an easy 3.01 miles. Then I did some more resting. 

I decided to forgo swimming altogether. Already I had 20,000 meters and my fatigue level was getting out of hand.

At Plate City, I worked legs. I did squats for 3,270 pounds worth. I also did leg curls, and calf raises both standing and seated. So all in all, it was a day of some training, but a lot of rest. Thank you, Jesus.

8/31 - 9/6

I had a pretty good week. Monday started with a 2,400 meter swim, which is about all I can do on that day and get to work on time unless I get up earlier. I shuffled 2.74 miles, and lifted weights, lower body.

Tuesday I was able to swim 4,200 before work. Then I did 4.22 miles of roadwork, and lifted weights both push and pull. That left me off the gym Wednesday. I hit 2,600 for the morning swim and 5.04 for the evening run.

Thursday I somehow managed to get 5,200 in the pool. According to my training diary, I hit big numbers last Thursday also. I shuffled an easy 3.72 miles, and did a pull workout at Plate City.

Usually I sleep a little longer on Fridays but not this time. I busted out 5,700 in the pool. Then before lunch, I drove to Carrollton and ran the hills of Highway 17 for 14.55 miles.

Saturday, I did lots of resting. I shuffled an easy 2.75 miles, and lifted while I hung out with Pee Wee at Plate City.

For the week, 

lifted weights four times,
swam 20,100 meters, and
ran 32.72 miles.

That was my second 20,000 meter week in a row, and on the road I hit my highest total for the year. The 32 miles was my third 30-miler of 2020. I hope to hit 33 in about a month. When the break comes, I will bust out some really big miles.

Easy Saturday

John wanted to swim Saturday. I slept in. You have to remember that John is almost always late so he gets more sleep than me. Not only that, but he always fails to show up at least one morning. He will tell me afterwards that he just was too worn out and had to rest. Not only all of that, but he can go home after swimming and go back to bed. I have to go to work. Of course he says he never does, that he can't, but I have called later in the morning and awaken him many times.

My point is that if John came on time and came every morning then he would not be pestering me to swim on Saturday. Like me, he would need the rest and welcome it.

I studied. I drank coffee. I wrote a blog post. I hung out with cats. I even took a nap, went back to sleep. The rest was needed.

I did take a short run. I shuffled to the Yazoo River Trail and ran around down there. While on the trail, I heard a boat approaching. I stopped and watched an old man check a hoop net just below me. He never saw me there. I used to do that, but in our move, I sold my nets and put the cash into my gym fund. Yee Haa. One day I am going to upgrade Plate City again.

I rested, took a nap, and watched reruns of college football most of the afternoon. Then I went to Plate City and did my second push workout of the week. I benched

15 X 100
12 X 120
  3 X 140
  3 X 140
  3 X 140

I did some other stuff then in the gym and even mowed the back yard. After all of that, I went inside for the night. That capped off a good week of training. Chicot is coming up. Thank you, Jesus.

Big Friday

For the first time in a very long time, maybe a year, I was up early on Friday. In fact, I was swimming by ten minutes until 5:00. John was only sixteen minutes late. I swam

4,800 1:59:34
200
100 small paddles
6 X 100 medium paddles
total: 5,700 meters.

I then went home and worked. 

Huh? 

MDCC. They hate us. 

I worked, and prepared to drive to Carrollton. I parked at Dollar General at the junction of Highways 82 and 17. I ran 17 for 7.26 miles out and turned around and ran back plus a few steps for 14.55 miles. 

Highway 17 is a nice road to run because it has lots of hills and lots of shade. Running north and south with tall pine trees growing close to the road, hot sun is not a problem. It was hot, but not sunny.

One thing I did that gave me a charge was to wear two Garmins. I recently purchased a 935. I wanted a 920 but could not find one. The 935 is a more updated watch but that is not necessarily a good thing for me. It has so many bells and whistles that I am bewildered by it. I can't find History and I can't figure out how to set up workouts and a bunch of other stuff. I know the 920 backwards and forwards and it has huge numbers on the display which is great for an old man like me.

With the two watches, I turned one only when I was running uphill. I know, I could have lapped the 935, but I can't find History and I would have to add up all the laps afterwards. With my older Garmin on my right arm, I was able to keep up with how far I had run going uphill in real time. I finished the day with 6.6 miles going up. I don't know how many feet of vertical I did, the 935 will track that, but I don't know how to do it. I could tell it too. My glutes felt like I had been kicked swiftly and repeatedly by a strong mule. Really, they hurt and were sore. For a delta boy, 6.6 miles is a lot of climbing.

No, I did not go to the gym. I was pretty washed out by the time I drove home. I took a bath, took nutrition, and then took a nap. Thank you, Jesus, for a solid day of training.

Smoke in the City

Being on time two days in a row and only twenty minutes late the third day was too much for John. He was missing in action Thursday. While he slumbered and slept, I swam and swam, 5,200 meters worth before work. It was a straight swim. I haven't done any sets all week. I tried sets one morning, Wednesday I think. I was going to do some 200s which I have done before. I did not make the sendoff on the first rep. I got to the wall in 4:25. The sendoff was 4:35. Of course I did not go. I'm not sure why I was so slow. Maybe I just was not concentrating.

That swim plus getting up early every morning, had me groggy at work. In fact, I left my lunch at home, and drove back to get it between classes. I almost went to sleep. 

After work, I took a nap before I had the energy to do anything else. Anything else was a shuffle on Wade/gravel/Money Roads. I drove out there because town was smokey. I did not want to inhale all that smoke. The shuffle was slow. This is the day when I usually do my 5K Special. But I hurt my back a bit Tuesday, and I did not want to squat or to run in the smoke in town so I drove out there and did the loop. The loop is 3.72 miles.

At Plate City, I did pulls. On the lat pull down, I did

31 X 50
25 X 65
12 X 80
11 X 86

I also did reverse flys, and face pulls for a solid day of Chicot training. It's coming up fast. Help me, Lord Jesus.

Record for John

John set a new record. He was there. Monday and Tuesday saw him show up on time for the first time ever. That'r right, two days in a row. I figured after that that he would miss for two straight weeks, but he was there, late, but there Wednesday morning. Since it was one of my Moorhead mornings, I had to get out about 6:00 so I only got 2,600 which, however, was the best I have done on a Monday or Wednesday this semester. It has been really difficult to get the kind of yardage I need working Moorhead twice a week. Better than working Greenville, though. 

After teaching and driving home, I needed to mow at Monroe. That took about an hour and some moisture out of my body. Then it was time for a shuffle. I went 5.04 miles to beat last week by a few tenths. 

Like last week, I did heavy legs Monday and both push and pull Tuesday so I was off Wednesday. I took a shower, ate supper, and lounged with the cats. I needed to work for MDCC, but I am a man not a machine. I rested, went to sleep, woke up and did it all over again. Twice. Thank you, Jesus.

More Gains

By gains I mean getting ahead of my numbers from last week. The day, Tuesday, started like many of my days do, with a pre-dawn trip the Twin Rivers outdoor pool. John was there and on time for the second day in a row. Literally he has never done that before. I swam 4,200 meters for a 100 meter gain over last week.

I worked all day, or all the day I was supposed to, and went home and took a nap. The tree cutters were there for the second day in a row. They finished everything except grinding the stumps. After my nap, I took a shuffle and went 4.22 miles, a light upgrade from last week.

Of course I went to the gym. The convenience of a home gym is ineffable. I decided to do like last week and double up on push and pull so I would have extra time on Wednesday. On the bench, I pressed

20 X 102
15 X 112
12 X 117

For pulls, I did the one-are bent row for

20 X 40
15 X 50
11 X 55
  3 X 60

I also did some reverse flys and some rotator cuff work. It was a good day. Thank you, Jesus. 

New Week

My goal for this new week is to beat last week in all categories: swimming, running, and lifting. I got started right Monday. But I only tied in the pool, compared to this day last week. I swam 2,400 meters on both Mondays. 

For the roadwork, however, I stepped it up a notch, not a lot but a bit. I checked my training journal before heading out the door, and saw that last week I ran 2.22 on Monday. So this Monday I shuffled 2.74. That wasn't a big jump, but I hope to add a little bit everyday and maybe on Friday add a lot. It was at the gym, however, that I saw my real improvement.

At Plate City, I decided to go with last week's new lineup and do my big leg day on Monday. I hit the squats really hard for eleven sets. In addition, I did leg extension, standing calf raises, and seated calf raises. When I walked back into the house, I knew that my quads, calves, and glutes had been worked and worked hard.

It was a good day, and as a bonus, Shane Sanders Tree Service finally came back to cut that other tree we had agreed on back in May. 

May. 

May. 

I had thought they aren't coming back, but they did. 

Thank you, Jesus.

Mornings

Nighttime melds, melts, transforms into morning. I love it. We are swimming now before 5:00 a.m. It is dark. It is very dark.

Some kind of strange birds circle the sky above us. I don't know what they are. One would think bats, but they don't look like bats, and they don't fly like bats. They look the color of a dove and fly like one. After thirty minutes or so of them getting closer and closer, it gets kind of spooky.

The first hint of daylight is when I am on the north end of the pool and breathe to the east looking up Barton Street. The first sign is it looks like someone turned on a streetlight on a side street. There is just a hint that the sky is light there, up that street.

After a few more laps, I can suddenly see the outline of the trees east of me when I am on the south end of the pool. A few more laps and the western sky above the Twin Rivers building looks a little lighter. As soon as it is light enough to see clouds in the sky, the mysterious birds disappear.

I stop on the north wall to pull some paddles out of my swim bag. Now it is light enough to see marlins fly over. I notice the sparrows at the edge of the water where you walk into the pool. Always there is a flotilla of dead bugs there washing up against the concrete like dead soldiers on the beaches of Normandy during World War II. Twin Rivers sparrows are fat.

I hear a dove cooing in the distance. I think of a Bible verse, "He maketh the outgoings of the morning and evening to rejoice" (Paslm 65:8 KJV). 

Thank you, Jesus.