A2A Arbuckles to Ardmore Half Marathon, Ardmore, Oklahoma, March 27, 2010

Race Number 33, State Number 9

I am not sure exactly when liking to run became longing to run…..when wanting to run became needing to run. I only know that, as there once were roads that HAD to be driven in my new 1967 Tan Volkswagen Beetle when I was seventeen, there are now roads, trails and courses that must be run in my sixties. When I injured my back in November, I was certainly afraid that my shoe strikes on the ground were short-lived. The universe was not making much sense to me, especially after I had come so far.

So far from what, you may ask (or you may not ask…so stop reading)? The answer: The fear of running. Yep, I knew what it felt like to fail at running based on previous attempts in my life to get into running shape. Yet, my return to running in 2005 has been a lot of fun. Notwithstanding, the fear of running was nothing, though, compared with the fear I was concerned most about facing; that is, the fear of WATCHING. As I contemplated what my doctor communicated to me in the middle of December, I could hear my heart pounding and feel my palms sweating, wondering, if, I might have to give up my present-day passion. Could this really be happening?

As it turns out, though, I am almost good as new. On December 29th, Dr. Blatt removed some vertebrae and some herniated disc (he also liposuctioned my expanding waist area….just kidding ...about the liposuction, not the expanding waist) and within two days of surgery, I was on my feet and walking four miles! In fact, I walked 3-4 miles almost everyday for the five weeks after going under the stiletto and started low-impact training and some jogging six weeks out from surgery.

A friend asserted the other day, “You know.....your running may have caused the problem that your fall from the ladder aggravated?” That is an assertion I would not deny. However, I will probably leave this planet before discovering whether it is true, because I never intend to explore the question. Running will be MY adventuresome agony!

So….. I flew to Oklahoma this last weekend ( I am writing this from sunny California as I enjoy spring break...tough life right now) and ran in the “A2A Arbuckles to Ardmore Half Marathon” with the largest ear-to-ear grin amongst the 450+ competitors. I ran, with an almost psychotic disdain for safety, finishing with a slow, but respectable 2:28:10 time. That is at least ten-twelve minutes off my normal finishing time as I was being careful not to pound my back too hard. The weather was perfect except for 30 knot gusts of wind.

Therefore, it appears I have returned and unless you obliterate my notification e-mails in the future, you will be subject to me setting about (industriously, btw) to document, yet again, (and maybe everlastingly), my lack of athletic talent.

Talk to you again after my next race on April 11th. Mikie it back!!

Prayer List: Miles 1 & 2: Pat Caudill: Recovering from cancer surgery. See P.S. at the bottom of this post regarding Pat and me. Miles 3 & 4: Tami Kanary: Recovering from breast cancer. Miles 5 & 6: Janelle Bratten: Recovering from breast cancer. Miles 7 & 8: The Happs family: Grieving over the loss of mom/grandmother to cancer. Miles 9 & 10: Jim Prichard and family over the loss of the very first teacher hired at Jefferson Academy. Karen was our special education teacher until her retirement in 2003. She set the theme for what kind of school we were going to be….especially to those children with special needs or struggles. Miles 11 & 12: The Gunter family, grieving the loss of father and grandfather. Mile 13: Joe and Carrie Mott...I officiated their wedding the night before flying out to OK. Carrie is one of our teachers at JA.

PS. Pat Caudill and I attended high school and some college together in California. We are still the best of friends! Coincidentally, we had beds next to each other in pre-op when I went in for my back surgery. That produced some problems for the operating room staff. As Pat and I answered all the pre-op questions that nurses and doctors are obligated to ask, we each kept pulling the curtain partition back, (that separated our “privacy”…ha) to chime in on each others conversations so that we might correct the information that the other was giving to the attending nurse. I sincerely felt obligated to correct Pat as he tried to impress the VERY attractive young nurse with his manly prowess and his particular need to lie about things like…. weight (OMG), height, muscle mass and especially his IQ. Of course, he also corrected the information I was dispensing to the staff about my days, as a pro surfer in California, with surfer girls hanging ALL over me. My 63 year old nurse thought I was pretty cool until Pat shattered all that with his hyperbolic stew. I am not sure Saint Joseph Medical Center will EVER be graced with another set of 60 year old GOLDEN boys like Pat and I…..unless, of course, we both get hurt at the same time, body surfing 15 foot waves at “The Wedge” in Newport Beach. In that case, we would probably both be in the morgue anyway….with little to say…. except maybe a final “I love you, man!”