The old man in the red Chevy pickup warned us it would happen. His group tromped out of the woods while we threw on our gear at the North Pocket Trail in McLemore Cove outside of Chickamauga, GA. The Cove, as locals call it, is a famous site of an almost ambush/trapping of Yankee troops during the civil war. The Union army escaped their destruction … Continue reading My First Ultra Marathon (Attempt): Some People Just Don’t Understand
“Any idiot can run a marathon, but it takes a special idiot to run an ultra-marathon” Dean Karnazes You should have seen the face on my waiter at the Mexican restaurant, “So, wait? You don’t want any meat?” He paused, bewildered. “That’s right.” I said. “No steak, Nate?” He burrowed harder into his investigation. “That’s right, the vegetarian plate.” He beamed, “So… no chicken?” His … Continue reading My First Ultra Marathon (Attempt): Why I Don’t Eat Meat. (Part 1)
I’ve failed a lot. I’ve often thrashed my goals with the whip of laziness; while hanging my ego out to dry. So, can this be any different? Last night, my sprained knee and the pains from adjusting my stride told me to fail. They throbbed my leg and nipped at the cell phone in my pocket like two belligerent, drunks pleading for their phone call. … Continue reading My First Ultra Marathon (Attempt): Can this be any different?
A metal bin, fixed to a buried wooden 4×4, marked my first allowable outdoor distance. My grandmother had a straight-shot view of the paved one-lane driveway from her kitchen, where she made lunch for her daily wards (5-15 grandchildren, nieces, nephews, and other neighborly passerby’s). “You can go outside, but don’t go past Calvin’s mailbox.” Music to my ears. I put in many an hour … Continue reading My First Ultra Marathon (Attempt): Why?
35 miles? I I’ll puke now, good preparation for September. Continue reading My First Ultra Marathon (Attempt): The Georgia Jewel 35 Miler
There once was a great excavator, and inside the cab was a fly. The little buzzer had lived in this massive machine since he was a tiny little maggot. Most days, the fly would play inside the machine while a man dug along the base of a small mountain. In in the fly’s short fifteen day life, the man had not once swatted at him … Continue reading The Fly and the Excavator
How did I get from the sweet little girl at first practice to hearing, “Your God can’t help you, YOU BELONG TO ME NOW.”? Continue reading How to pick a soccer team: Create a frustrating defense