Burgers and Birthdays

Half a Burger is Better than None
To celebrate our oldest daughter’s 21st birthday, we took her out to Zinburger for a burger and a glass of wine to celebrate the extreme momentousness of this extremely momentous occasion. The whole thing reminded me of my own “coming of age” which happened in the great state of Wyoming, which is where I was living when I “came of age,” which is worth mentioning because a person “came of age” in the great state of Wyoming earlier than they “come of age” in Arizona today, that is to say, back then we “came of age” at the tender age of 19 rather than 21 (not sure if it’s still the case today) because, if you haven’t guessed, this whole “coming of age” business has to do with the age when it becomes legal for a person to enter a bar and purchase an adult beverage. The main thing I remember about my 19th birthday is that there was a huge snowstorm that afternoon/evening that dumped a whole boatload of snow on the city/town of Laramie, and all the dorm denizens streamed out of their dorms and engaged in a free-for-all snowball fight that escalated into a mob scene where a group of students eventually turned over a Domino’s pizza delivery car (with the poor pizza-guy trapped inside - I was not part of this group, but I did witness this spectacle from a safe distance). Needless to say, there wasn’t any snowball-flinging or car-tipping going on at Zinburger (for which I’m quite grateful).

There’s a well-documented (but not particularly well-known) scientific study that suggests that what a person orders at a restaurant, such as, say, Zinburger, reveals a great deal about that person’s personality, values, etc. With that in mind, I paid close attention as each person in our party ordered their meal. Carrie started out by ordering a burger with extra mushrooms – suggesting that what’s good enough for the common folk just isn’t good enough for her and that she demands more from everything in life, especially when it has to do with fungi. Next, Caitlyn ordered. In addition to a glass of wine (she asked for a recommendation of what was the sweetest wine they served – which obviously suggests she needs some sweetening up) she ordered half a burger that she would split with my wife. This takes care of each of them, and suggests that they’re satisfied with less than something that will fill them completely, that they’re able to share (this was shocking in Caitlyn’s case, because as a child, she was not exactly a sharer, but perhaps her new-found adulthood has brought about some adult-like attitudes and behavior – like sharing, for example). And finally, Connor ordered a “Plain and Simple Burger,” which is a burger without a whole lot on it, only even without a whole lot on it, it still had too much on it for Connor, so he had a special request to make the “Plain and Simple” part even more plain and simple by requesting that the “Plain and Simple Burger” should come with nothing but a patty and bun and nothing else. While this might, at first blush, seem to suggest that Connor is undemanding and easy to please, in fact, it suggests the exact opposite, which is that he is extremely high-maintenance (and if you know Connor at all…).

So once we ordered, we chatted for awhile, and then the food began to arrive. First came Carrie’s burger with extra mushrooms, Connor’s plain and simple “Plain and Simple” burger, and Caitlyn’s half a burger. Which seemed a bit odd to me, because wouldn’t they bring out both halves of the burger at the same time? Then they brought out my burger… and that was it. No second half of the burger for Katie, which, at this point, really raised my eyebrows. I couldn’t imagine, for the life of me, what could have happened to the missing half of the burger. I mean, it’s not like they prepare half a burger at a time, is it? So why wouldn’t both halves be out at the same time? After speculating over this for several breathless minutes, the mystery was resolved when a very official-looking type of person (I’m assuming it was the manager – or at the very least, the assistant manager) showed up at our table and very apologetically explained that both halves of the burger had indeed been ready to go, but unfortunately, one of the halves was accidentally tipped off the plate onto the floor, so they were preparing a new half (which makes me wonder what they did with the other half of that new burger? Didn’t this mean that for the rest of the night, they would always be off by a half a burger? I mean, I kind of doubt a single person is going to come in and order half a burger – in fact, I doubt if that is even allowed. So how do they account for this? Or does someone in the kitchen get to eat the extra half? I was going to ask the assistant-manager-type person about this, but before I could, she get distracted by the wobbly table I was sitting at and set about fixing it, and in the hulabaloo that ensued, I forgot about the half a burger completely. Which leaves me now, pondering this whole thing late at night when I should be sleeping.

That’s it for this entry, so until next time, may your burgers remain firmly anchored on their plates, may your meals be made to order, and may your life remain just as plain and simple as you want it to be.

*Did you notice that nowhere in this entire entry did I mention running, cycling, or swimming? Wonder what that’s all about?

An Ultra-Long Ultra Description

March 5, 2011 will be one of those days that I remember forever, not just because I managed to finish my first 50-mile endurance event, but because of the way it happened. First off, thanks to the generosity of many of you out there, we managed to raise over $2,500 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society before the starting gun went off at 6 in the morning. Second of all, it was an absolutely beautiful day, and the event was held in a spectacular location. And finally, things went just about as well as I could have hoped for them to go. The following is my attempt to recreate the experience for anyone who's interested in what it was all about (for me, at least).

4:20 a.m.: The alarm goes off, but I'm already awake, and have been since around 3:00. I haven't slept particularly well, but I don't feel bad about it, because I was kind of expecting it. I've been fairly nervous about this for the past few weeks. Not sure if I'll be able to make the distance - especially because the course is so tough (8,000 feet of elevation gain – and 8,000 feet of descents - on some pretty rough trails and roads). What if something goes wrong? What if I take a wrong turn? Twist an ankle? Tweak a calf? I've tried to stifle the doubts and remember all the time and effort I've put into training for this. It's been a long haul, and the time is finally here, so I get up, get my gear together, get my act together (as much as possible) and go out to the common area to meet the rest of the group (there are five of us running today).

5:00 a.m.: As soon as we step outside, the cold air hits us. We drive to the starting area, get our numbers, and find a spot to store a drop bag for the finish (the course starts and finishes in the same spot).

6:00 a.m.: The race begins, but rather than immediately running, everyone around me is walking up the first hill. There’s definitely a different vibe in this group than in the usual marathon crowd – kind of mellow and relaxed – plus there are only around 150 of us. I’ve got a couple of guiding principles for the day (taken from Born to Run, a great read by the way). The first is to walk up all the hills. The second will serve as my mantra throughout the day – “If it feels like work, you’re working too hard.” With that in mind, I set off in an easy shuffle-jog on the flat portions and walk up all the hills. The sun rises, and we move from road to trail and back again as we wind up and down hills. There’s no opportunity to really get into a groove, but I don’t mind that – I’m kind of enjoying the constant changes in terrain and conditions. Sometimes the road is rocky and steep, sometimes it’s gradual and smooth. I focus on eating and drinking enough, and the time goes by quickly.

11:00 a.m.: I reach the halfway point after about 5 hours on the trail. This is faster than I was planning, but I know that the second half of the course is supposed to be even tougher than the first half. I change socks, eat and drink as much as I can, and hit the road again. The wind has picked up and is in our faces as we head up a long 4-mile uphill stretch. I try to run, but with the wind it’s just not happening, so I resign myself to a slow uphill climb.

1:00 p.m.: I pull into the 33-mile station. The wind has died down, the temperature has climbed a bit (still pretty comfortable, though), and I’m eating and drinking as much as possible. I can’t believe I still have 17 miles to go. My legs are feeling it now – but nothing is really bugging me, just general fatigue, so I’m still feeling pretty confident. The next portion is one I’ve never run before, so I’m not sure what to expect.

2:45 p.m.: At the 40-mile station, I realize I’ve now gone further than ever before. I’m tired, but I know I’m capable of another 10 miles. The last stretch was really tough – lots of steep, rocky hills. I change socks again, eat and drink as much as possible, and hit the road.

4:15 p.m.: The final station at mile 46. The final section is one I’ve run before, so I know now I’m going to make it. As I set off through the last five miles (the race is actually 51 miles), I’m just soaking it all in. As I run, I get a little choked up as I my thoughts wander. I think about all the people who donated to the cause – helping us raise over $2,500 to support the fight against cancer. My mom, who’s going through a tough time right now. Wendy, Susie, Kathy, Colleen, and Kathleen – the other four runners in my group. All our friends and family members who came out today as our support crew – especially Sandy and Katie, who have been on the course all day (and will stay till after 9:00 when our final runner finishes). All the people who have encouraged and supported me along the way. The runners I’ve coached over the past few years and run with as they’ve completed their own events. It’s kind of overwhelming to think that I’m going to actually do this – something I never really believed I’d be able to do, and I’m a little surprised that I’m still feeling pretty strong as I pass by several people who are walking. The last section is deceptively long, and I keep thinking I’m almost there, then find out I’m not.

5:30 p.m.: For a little while, I think I’m going to be able to finish in under 11 ½ hours, but 5:30 passes and I’m still not in sight of the finish area, so I decide to relax and savor the moment. I slow to a walk and soak it all in. The sight of the mountains around me, the feel of the breeze cooling the sweat on my face, the taste of salt on my lips, the grit in my shoes, and the aching fatigue in my quads and glutes. It’s all good. I pass through a gate and head up a slight hill to the finish area, and as soon as I round a corner, people start cheering and encouraging me forward. “It’s just around the bend. You’re almost there.” I continue on to the top of the final hill, where I can see the finish line about a hundred yards away, and with a smile on my face, I reach down for one last burst of energy, and I start to run.

Marching Forward

What is this white stuff falling out of the sky?
A very strange thing happened in the "Old Pueblo" this weekend. When I got up on Sunday a.m., I glanced out the window, and what to my wondering eyes should appear, but some strange white substance perching on cactus pads and coating the roofs in the neighborhood. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, then stepped outside to take a closer look and further examine this strange substance. I tentatively poked at a patch and immediately drew back after registering that it was cold. And slightly wet. What could it be? I picked up my paper (after dusting off the white stuff coating the plastic wrapper) and dashed back inside, where I bolted for the computer and quickly googled "white wet cold stuff" to see what I might be able to find out. And I found out a lot. Among other links, there were ones for adult beverages, a music album, and an episode of "The Dukes of Hazzard" (yee-hah!). And then there were links about this stuff called "snow." The more I thought about it, the more familiar that strange word seemed. It triggered something hidden deep in the dark recesses of my memory. Something I'd repressed. Something I'd pushed down and chained into a dank, shadowed corner of my subconcious. I then pulled up images of "snow" and memories started flashing through my mind like a kaleidoscopic vision accompanied by bongo beats and flutes, and I think I passed out for several seconds. And when I awoke, I remembered it all. The cold, dark days of winter. The blustery, shivery winds. The temperatures below zero, accompanied by frostbite warnings. Shoveling huge masses of this substance called "snow" off the driveway and sidewalks around my childhood home. Scraping the windshield every morning to remove the frost. Luckily, snowfall is a highly unusual occurrence in the "Old Pueblo" and it's supposed to be sunny and warm this weekend as opposed to cloudy and cold.

And away we go…
Hard to believe, but "U-Day" is almost here. In less than a week, I'll be lining up with about 175 other semi-crazy folks in the predawn dark and waiting for the starting gun to go off. And once it goes off, I'll start running. And I'll keep running and keep running and keep running (and walking on occasion) for the next 10-12 (hopefully) hours until I've covered 50 miles and gone up, down, and all around for 8,000 feet in total elevation gain. Hopefully, I won't run into too many blisters, cramps, other other issues along the way and I'll be able to manage my eating and drinking and pacing in such a way that I'm able to actually finish this thing upright. Right now, I'm feeling strong but nervous. I know I've done the best I could with the training, and for the most part, I think I stuck to the plan the way it was written up, so I suppose I'm ready to go. It's just a little hard to imagine actually being out there on the roads/trails for such a long time/distance.

And once the Ultra is in the rear view mirror…
It will be time to ramp up training for the next event on my list, which is the "Deuce-man" triathlon at the beginning of June. I've (obviously) been running plenty over the past few months, and I've been swimming a couple of times a week, so even though I'm not particularly fast or graceful in the water, I think I can thrash my way through the 1.2 mile swim, but I've really been neglecting the bike portion, so I've got to spend more time out on the road in the next few months. Tally ho!

That's all for now, so until the next time, may your weather remain clear, may your hills remain climbable, and may your wishes all come true.