The Kooky-Spooky Half Marathon, Golden/Arvada, Colorado, October 25, 2015

Number 54

If you read my blog entry for my last race a week ago, then you will concur that my middle initial in my name should be legally changed from an "E" to an "I."  I am a bit unclear as to why I felt compelled to run in the Kooky, Spooky Half Marathon in Golden, Colorado ...... But it may have been my attraction to the first word in the title of the race ..... :-)  Two half marathons in two weeks IS a tiny bit kooky!

This was another slow race for me.  I have resigned myself to that adjustment for now. I had my consultation on Friday regarding my colitis and it appears to be one of those maladies that will effect me for the balance of my life. So, I was careful today and mindful of where the porta potties were, albeit very few of them. That sure as "crappy." Thank goodness I only had to stop once.

The first 6.5 miles were a 2-3% downhill run! But it was an "out and back" course so the last 6.5 miles were 2-3% uphill. Actually, I think it felt like 5-8% at that point in the race. The 2-3% does not sound like much to the non-runner, but I will tell you, "it ain't fun!" It was a beautiful, crisp Colorado morning with the temperature hovering at 42-degrees at the start and finishing with a warm, yet comfortable 62-degrees.

Next race? Gosh, I don't know..... Right now, I am just very hungry and thirsty (I lost two pounds running this race) so I am going to treat myself to some oysters, pizza and beer at the local pub near the house. I will walk there, of course :-)

The Denver Rock and Roll Half Marathon, Denver, Colorado October 18, 2015

Number 53

Some years ago, I read an intriguing book entitled "The Water In Between," by Kevin Patterson. Mr. Patterson sailed a 37-foot ketch across the Pacific, by himself. Although that is a feat in itself, the unusual aspect of this adventure was that Patterson had NEVER SAILED BEFORE!!!

Having had my own youthful experiences on the Pacific Ocean as a boy and young man, I related well to his adventure. In high school and also after my active duty in the Army, I crewed on racing sloops and even sailed 2,700 miles in a 50-foot racing sloop from Hawaii  to Newport Beach, CA. This was a three week ordeal that included 10-12 foot breaking swells for a majority of the 21 days that we were on the water. It was NOT a pleasure cruise. In fact, it was a defining moment in my life, as I was never much of a risk-taker compared to most of my friends. I learned a lot about myself on that trip. 

Notwithstanding, as I read Patterson's book, I kept saying (out loud, BTW ), this guy is a TOTAL IDIOT! He could have died out there. What was he thinking? His perils are carefully outlined in his book and yet I kept trying to search for what I might learn from this "idiot." More on those lessons in a moment.

I share all the above because TODAY,  I was the IDIOT! I ran my 53rd half marathon in Denver with very little preparation (like Patterson), some slight sciatica pain going down my right leg, AND I had just returned from five active days in Houston visiting my girlfriend,  Holly, as she supports her family's business for the next year.  Add to that list my recent diagnosis of colitis in my upper and lower colon and you have the makings for a pretty good disaster documentary.

So why run this race? I guess you could say I was somewhat depressed after leaving my beloved Holly and felt the run might do me some good. It did. As I ran (actually I jogged the 13.1 miles) I reflected on what I learned from the idiot author so many years ago by retrieving some notes, that I had scribed, in the back of the book. I wrote the key words from those notes (they are in bold below) inside of my wrist so that I might refer to them at each mile marker. They were as follows:

First, Mr. Patterson had the Audacity to take a risk!  That does not always set well with many of us, especially me. Fear of failure is usually the reason. I exercised a bit of audacity today. 

Second,  Mr. Patterson was quite Determined. That word speaks loudly to me as I really do want to complete 75 half marathons before my spine,  my knees, and the colitis possibly take me out of the game. 

Third: Mr. Patterson was Self-Reliant (and maybe more than a little stupid). I guess I want to think I am still pretty young, even at 66, and I seem to have enough self-reliance to persevere.

But what impressed me the most was Patterson's choice to have a proper Attitude through his ordeal once he got out on the open sea. A good attitude helped me throughout the race and helped me overcome the apparent stupidity of my decision. We bring an attitude to everything we do.  I woke up this morning from a decent sleep, put my feet on the floor, and said, out loud, (with a 91% convincing voice), "OK, you IDIOT, you can do this!"

Number 53 is complete, albeit a very slow time. My spine is not happy and my colon forced me to the porta potty twice, during the race. I am probably none the smarter and a whole lot more sore than normal.  Yet, I am no longer depressed and I guess you could say I am a verifiable idiot. with a positive attitude. I can live with that.......at least for now!

Virtual Hollywood Half Marathon, Denver, Colorado, May 24, 2015

Number 52

I ran my 52nd half marathon this morning. It was an unusual one, by all means. The organizers of the Hollywood Half Marathon had some medals leftover after one of their races so they sent out an e-mail challenging previous participants to run a "virtual" half marathon within the next couple of months. If you did this and you documented it (i.e. Map Your Run) and then send the documentation to them, they will send you a shiny "Hollywood Star" medal (see post for race #48, below, to see a replica). Well, needless to say, I jumped on this because I am ALL ABOUT THE BLING!!!

So, today, I took off, all by my lonesome, to run 13.1 miles through the streets of Denver. It was quite fun acknowledging the fact that I was the only runner in this race and I WOULD come in; 1) FIRST, overall 2) FIRST in my age division and 3) FIRST as the top male finisher. I suppose if I claimed to have wore dresses once in a while (i.e. Bruce Jenner) I also, could have received, the honor of being the top female runner in my hypothetical race. Yet, I cannot claim that distinction (although in Junior High, I did try on a bra at a friend's house and strutted around for a few minutes..... BUT, that does not count because I was dared, and in Junior High, you NEVER turn down a dare).

My race started at Wash Park and what was really fascinating in my virtual race was the HUGE crowd that turned out to cheer me on. OMG, I was so humbled by the thousands of well-wishers, mostly of Lebanese decent, as well as a majority of the inhabitants of Iceland and seven monks from Outer Mongolia. Fox News covered every step of the contest (Megyn Kelly has a crush on me so the producers assigned her to my trek) and the tables were turned on the Kenyans as THEY served as volunteers at the aide stations, passing out water and gel packs. Let's face it though, IF I had allowed them to run in my virtual race, they would have lost anyway. It is best that they save themselves for another race where they can pretend to be human (I am referring to their unexplainable ability to run like an antelope).

I finished my race near a virtual beer garden (i.e. the refrigerator) where I was congratulated by Mr. Adolph Coors and Mr. Anheuser Busch.  The way my knees feel right now, I wish Mr. Jack Daniels had shown up.

The virtual applause and congratulatory nods have been overwhelming. Frankly, the autograph party was a bit much.  Nonetheless, I do my best to serve my fan base. Just say'in ........

Looking forward to number 53!

Three Rivers Half Marathon, Aurora, Colorado, April 4, 2015

Number 51

He is Risen! Oops, I am not talking about our risen Savior who we will celebrate on Sunday. I am talking about me and the fact that after nearly three years of virtual sloth, I returned to the “racing” circuit today to limp (seriously) through my 51^st half marathon. I took this old body out on the course accompanied by 11 extra pounds and a bad calf muscle and did my worse (vs. my best).

My training for this event was going OK, until March 28^th, when I pulled a calf muscle in the middle of an eight mile training run. I was so lame, that I had to call my girlfriend to come pick me up. Yet, I thought this old body would repair itself soon enough to run gallantly within a week. Pride was on my side as I fell back on a rich history of having logged 50 half marathons. But my pride (i.e. an inflated sense of my accomplishment) caused me to step out on a course that I had no business being on. Enter stupidity.

Within just two miles of the start of the race, my right calf began to burn. Granted, I have made some mistakes in my life, mostly in my overestimation of my ability. But this time, my biggest mistake was underestimating my IGNORANCE (i.e. stupidity). I was going to have to complete the next 11 miles limping like Festus in the old Gunsmoke series. I had a fantastic dream that I would be healed and prepared for the race but, at mile marker two, I had to settle for REALITY! My pride certainly helped me imagine the runner I wanted to be today, but reality forced me to ACCEPT the runner I was at this point in time.

There is a proverb that states “Pride comes before the fall.” Although number 51 is in the books, it is apparent to me I may be paying for my inflated attitude for some time.  Number 52 may be further away than I realize.

Blessings from your often ignorant (and now healing) friend and colleague in life.

Colfax Half Marathon, Denver, Colorado, May 20, 2012

Number 50

What does a 62 year old man do after running fifty half marathons in five years and 262 days? He designs a graphic to screen onto his running shirts and a few bumper stickers (you know, like "My Child is an Honor Student at Game Stop" or "I am Proud of my Eagle Scout even though he is in LOCKUP" kind of bumper stickers...see my artistic mock up to the right)!!  Contrary to the 50 medals that I have received, yet do not wear in my travels each day, the proclamation will remind me of my accomplishment and I will be able to display my triumph during periodic visits to the beach, the gym and my Chippendale gigs, (before the shirt comes off, of course).  I had hoped to run 100 in ten years, but two back surgeries short-circuited the goal and probably kept me from having a TATTOO affixed to my forehead five years from now, as that really would have been something to brag about.

Today was my sixth running of the Colfax Half Marathon and it was fitting to run my 50th in Denver as a few of my friends and former staff came out to cheer me on.  Holly, Sandy, Melody, Nancy, Mona, Betsy, the Callas family, the James family... Thank you!!!! It was the fastest I have run since my 2nd back surgery in August of 2010.

It has been fun running these races and writing about them in this blog.  I think the most illuminating experience I have had while running and writing was that it really is the “human way” to exert oneself, every now and again, in eccentric enterprises.  The challenge to complete 50 half marathons in five years and write this blog certainly has been eccentric.  I admit, my blog entries have been a bit schizophrenic, waffling between silly, sarcastic, serious, and emotional.  I was not chagrined by e-mails from some of my readers who applauded (and took advantage of) my contingent concern for their attention and on the other hand heartened by reader e-mails who took pain to advise me that they found reading my self-absorbed accounts, well, somehow rewarding.

I have had some special moments and proved to myself I could accomplish a long-term physical goal.  But the pure reasons for even attempting this goal is still unknown, unknowable, and uninteresting.  It just kinda happened.

Before each of the 50 races, I asked the Lord’s blessing, felt better for having done so, and figured the Lord appreciated me doing so because He knew I would need His help.  It was a pleasure to pray for so many as I ran.  Your needs, troubles and despairs kept each trek in perspective as I knew my challenge was small compared to the challenges many of you have faced. 

I realized that the running photos supplanted in this blog were sometimes confusing too.  I suppose some of you never knew whether the expressions on my face were like those of Hamlet facing life’s tortured ambiguities, or merely reflected an internal biological dialectic on whether I had intestinal issues or just needed a sip of Gatorade.  Frankly, in most cases, it was both, along with some glorious pain.

What is next?  I am considering competing in a "few" more half marathons (75 a possible goal??), or some10K races (6.2 miles or Half of a Half Marathon) over the next five years.  The problem with the 10K races is there is never a finisher medal at the end and you KNOW that is why I run….. for the BLING!!!!  I have also thought I might try my hand at a handful of triathlons.  And, of course, I will probably always be on call for the Chippendale gigs which can be physically exhausting.  Bottom-line, the fear of boredom is a cognate aversion.

Finally, I thought it might be fun for you to assimilate some statistics that I have compiled over the five plus years. 

Miles run in training:  7,587 miles.  That is basically running from Los Angeles to New York, turning around and running from New York back to LA and turning around again, headed east to Memphis, Tennessee.  Hummmm, can you say, Forrest Gump?

Number of hours in training:  1,580 hours (avg 45 minutes a day) or 39.5 forty-hour work weeks or almost 66 twenty-four hour days.
Pairs of shoes purchased:  15 pairs.  I purchased new shoes after putting 400-500 miles on a set of shoes.  My primarily purchase has been the Asics Kayano, the best shoe I have ever run in.
Number of states I ran in:  10 states which included:  Colorado, California, Washington, Kansas, New Mexico, Texas, Nevada, Arizona, Wyoming and Oklahoma.
Calories burnt during 50 races:  110,000 calories or about 2,200 per race.  I consumed four gel packs during each race to replace only 400 calories.  Weight lost during a race…about four to five pounds of mostly sweat/water weight.
My most difficult hurdle:  You might think it was the two back surgeries. Nope.... it was the first 15 minutes of every training run or race. Getting your body in the mood to be pushed and abused is a challenge. Your body would prefer to be in a state of sloth, on the couch. (Munier's advise: Do not let that stop you. Once you get past the first 15 minutes, it is a piece of cake.... or maybe, sometimes, a lump of coal, yet it will be worth it.) 

Thank you for the encouragement over these years, especially as I faced the two back surgeries and did not know if I could complete my goal.  Without your help, I am not sure I would have had the vinous determination to finish this challenge.  So, the time has come to say good-bye, for a while. May you be richly blessed with wisdom, love and the simplicity of Forrest Gump.

Regards always,

Mikie

Final Prayer List:  I carried with me, the names of every person I have prayed for over the last five years.  Admittedly, my prayers were “blanket” prayers for the cadre of friends, family and acquaintances….. yet, still, heartfelt.

Prayer Request for me:  I am re-entering the principalship at Sky View Academy in Highlands Ranch, Colorado.  My two years at the League of Charter Schools has been fun, interesting, challenging and rewarding.  Yet, it is time for me to return to  the blessing of helping mold our future generations.  I have yet to absorb the word "retirement."

Horsetooth Half Marathon, Ft. Collins, Colorado, April 22, 2012

Race Number 49

The race was difficult. I am physically and creatively WORN OUT, thus a short entry.  I have copied and pasted the race profile below and I will let you imagine what I went through. The five hills (mountains) were unforgiving and left me no legs for the downhill portion.  Consolation? The race finished at the New Belgium Brewery where Fat Tire and Sunshine Wheat are made (and were served :-).

Number 50 will be the Colfax Half Marathon on May 20th.  The 50 half marathon trek is almost over.

Prayer List:  Miles 1-3:  Cameron Munier as he heals from his surgery. Miles 4-6: Safe travels for Holly Hensey and her Junior High students to Washington D.C. this week. Miles 7-9: Shelly Carpenter as she battles cancer.  Miles 10-13: Amy Warden's mom, Karen. Karen has cancer and has been told she as six weeks to live.

Hollywood Half Marathon, Hollywood, California, April 7, 2012

Cool Inaugural Medal for this Race!!

Number 48 (a prose poem, if you will)

Early morning: Hollywood Half
with my beautiful cousin, Nurse Michelle!

Hi there dear followers of Mikie Marathoner.  I had decided I would provide you with a visual and auditory experience for race #48.  I knew that a couple of my friends (Shelly and Mona) are completely illiterate and they have been deprived of the opportunity to read about my adventures on the running circuit.  So, today, I wrote a prose poem about the Hollywood Half Marathon and WAS going to post it by way of video but the darn file is toooo big.  I am providing a picture of my disguise, though. 

You may ask, why was I wearing the fake glasses, eye brows and mustache (actually, the nose is mine).  Well, I have had a devilish time with the paparazzi.  Sooooo I decided to don the aforementioned so that no one would bother me as I attempted to read my poem to you in Garrison Keillor style (if the video idea had worked).

Before I begin, I must tell you that I am accustomed to a more Spartan running environment when I am running these races, that is, I prefer to run alone.  Yet, today, I had the ecstatic and yet unholy coincidence of running with my much younger and much more beautiful cousin, Michelle Moshy.  Now I must inform you that Michelle and I do not like each other very much.  Just because she went to USC, she has several times suggested, with radiant scorn and preferably in large and disgustingly appreciative company (i.e. my other cousins) that MY education at THE University of California was let’s say, less rigorous than her education.  But, of course, I shan’t say a word, not a word to reinforce this notion other than the fact that it is a pity that so many USC graduates end up shoveling dirt on the plethora of freeway projects in this Golden State. Apparently, you see, the UC grads design and RUN the projects!!! 

Awwww, I feel splendid after saying all that. Yet, I think it is now time for my poem.

THE POEM: (Imagine Garrison Keillor delivery)

Today, there is a cool northwesterly wind blowing.

I join 5,000 runners piled up in the starting corrals huddled closer than they might like, to stay warm.
The path ahead of us is deserted, just how the front runners like it.

The pavement gives off a strange sheen from the lights above…. It is 6am.

Tinsel Town welcomes our shoe prints yet we will leave no impressions like the Hollywood Stars.

The barest essentials, air and physical strength, will allow months of preparation to test themselves.

As we start our race (my cousin Michelle is by my side) we leave Universal Studios and I imagine the countless Stars that have walked along this route who have disappeared forever.

I sense I will not consider them much once my cadence and stride rhythm are introduced to the unforgiving Hollywood Boulevard.

The pain will only make me wish I knew a famous one to pick me up in their limo. I will ignore that pain.

As I ran, I kept a keen eye for a misplaced roll of cash or a string of pearls that may have been left behind by a star after a glitzy evening.

I found solace in knowing my identity was masked by my Groucho nose, glasses and mustache to keep the paparazzi away.

I reluctantly ran (not walked) down the famous Hollywood Walk of Fame.
It seemed so sacrilegious to run upon it.
I did my best to read a portion of the 2,464 Stars without tripping to the pavement.
I looked for Betty White’s star…… wondering if I will live as long.

The race ending had us trying to conquer a 4-5% two mile climb portion of Hollywood Blvd.

Billy Crystal would have had nothing nice to say as I finished race number 48.

Yet I suspect that Billy has not attempted to play a role like mine as it may have caused him too much pain and the salary is so meager.

Post race was a photo shoot with my cousin and her friend, Becky.

I wore my classy Hollywood Star Medal with pride.
But the Paparazzi were relentless so we had to leave.
Yet the Easter weekend was fulfilling and refreshing as I hobble back to colorful Colorado.

Prayer List:  Miles 1-4:   My son, Cameron who had 10 inches of his colon removed this last week due to a case of diverticulitis and a small hole in his colon. It came upon him suddenly.  He will be convalescing for 4-6 weeks.  Miles 5-6: Stacy Rivera, my co-worker. Stacy is negoiating the adoption maze and has run into some of the ups and downs of the process.  Miles: 7-9: Marcia Bickel as she seeks appropriate services for her disabled sister in Iowa.  Miles 10-13: Pastor Chuck Smith as he continues to improve as he beats back cancer in his lung. 

Ralston Creek Half Marathon, Arvada, Colorado, February 12, 2012

Race Number 47


New Year's DAY Half in TX!

I have discovered you don’t need any skill to run. In golf, by contrast, you have to hit your drives straight enough to stay in the fairway, and that requires thinking about a dozen technical details of your golf swing. In tennis, you had better master the backhand stroke, or your rallies will be short lived. In swimming…. well, you’ll drown if you don’t develop some skill. Not so with running. We all know how to run or at least walk. Notwithstanding, I have always been a pretty slow and plodding runner. After my back surgeries, I have learned to relish the fact that I can run right now (and for that matter, walk), hoping it does not end anytime soon.

The Ralston Creek Half Marathon was one of those moments to relish. The race started at 9:00 am and it was very cold (it was 10 degrees at race start and at race end the tempature was a smoldering 32 degrees) as 500 brave souls ran a challenging course on bike path and a steady climb to the foothills. At mile 7.75 the course climbed through switchbacks up Ralston Mesa, a "meer" 500 foot climb. 

New Year's EVE Half in TX

I also enjoyed being reminded that rolling hills and mesa's are always unerring discoverers of weakness, and I am pleased to report (ha!) that the hills, on this course, discovered my weaknesses. My legs and lungs burned as I trudged up some of those “gentle rolling hills.” The race took a lot out of me. Yet, it is usually the most pleasant exhaustion I know with the expenditure of  2,000+ calories and a few pounds of sweat.

This must be why I can't remember ever having a really bad run or a bad race. As a half marathon runner, I've been hotter, colder, wetter, and more tired than I've ever wanted to be. I've been ready to stop hours before I could. I've run on roads and courses that I swear I'll never travel again or even want to see again. But none of these times were bad. I'm not really sure how they could be bad. I suppose if comfort is your sole criterion for happiness, then being soaked to the skin with your own sweat and completely exhausted with two miles still to go to complete the race, would be bad. If being so cold you can barely feel your face or so hot you can feel your brain turning to a soufflé makes you unhappy….. well, then you may have had some bad runs or bad races. But not me.

Every race holds both the promise of enlightenment and the threat of embarrassment. Each mile has the capacity to embrace you or punish you. Every race has the potential to be a celebration or a humiliation. The excitement comes in never knowing for sure which it will be.  Kind of like "a box of chocolates." (Forrest Gump)

So if people were possessed by reason, running half marathons would not work. But we are not creatures of reason. We are creatures of passion.  With that final thought, race number 47 is in the books and number 48, in April, in Hollywood, California will challenge my next set of passionate strides!!

Prayer List: Miles 1-3: Theresa Flood. The niece of my co-VP, Nora. Theresa was involved in a horrible car accident in Wisconsin, yet is recovering nicely.   Miles 4-6: Emily Bickel, daughter of our Office Manager, Marcia.  Emily has four choices for college and is trying to decide. Miles 7-9: Shea McNally, grandson to the Mayor of Westminster, Colorado. Shea is battling cancer. Miles 10-13: Pastor Chuck Smith Sr. Pastor of "Big" Calvary Chapel in Southern California.  Chuck is battling a strange lung cancer. He has never smoked a cigarette in his entire life.







New Years Double Half Marathon(s), Allen, Texas, December 31, 2011 and January 1, 2012

Races Number 45 and 46 (run within 24 hours of one another)

Running at Malibu

State Number 10
Everyone has had flashbacks to times of personal challenge and defining moments in their lives. As I tried to compete in the first of two races during this Double Half Marathon New Year’s Eve and Day event, I had one of those moments as I stood at the rear of the pack to start the New Year’s Eve race.  Tears welled up in my eyes at the start line and I was fortunate to have sun glasses covering my reddened eyeballs. My thoughts were taken to 1970 at Fort Ord, California……

When I reported for active duty, in the Army, in January of 1970, I was presented with a life changing experience that helped define me without me even knowing it.  Within two weeks of arrival, we were toting a full pack and a M-16 rifle (each weighing about 15 and 6.5 pounds, respectfully) to the rifle range which was a mere 10 miles from our barracks. We did not walk to the range, we force-marched, we double-timed and we ran. With Drill Instructors yelling at us, you did not take the time to tender your dislike of running under duress of this sort, for fear of retaliation on you and your whole company.

After the second day of running to the range, our drill Sergeant came to three of us…. Bill Duncan, John McGee and me. He simplify asked (ordered) us to run at the rear of our Company for one reason. We were to make sure NO ONE got behind us, that no man was allowed to drop out and we were fully responsible for making sure everyone made it to the range. You can imagine the pride we felt for being recognized as the strongest runners in the Company until we surveyed the barracks that night and realized how many of the men were out of shape or just plain wimps.

For the next three weeks, the “Three Musketeer’s” as we were called, literally dragged, prodded, kicked, yelled at, and on many occasions, CARRIED men to the range. The defining moment for me was realizing that the “invisible” barrier that held me back over my first 20 years of life (and would have stopped me from performing my duties, otherwise) was really VERY “visible.”  The Barrier had clearly been me. I learned in those three weeks, what real duty is all about, how we can push ourselves beyond belief and how a positive or negative attitude can effect you. Here I was, on December 31, 2011 at the rear of the pack of about 500 runners, experiencing the “Barrier” again and shouldering a bad attitude.

It is said that competing, winning and succeeding is all about attitude; it is about attempts to do your best, to struggle, to exert effort, and certainly to never give up! And yet, in the last month or so I had run a bit out of gas and my will to compete has been overshadowed by my lack of will to prepare for these races. It was becoming a bit of a generic experience.

A bad attitude tends to enhance distemper, which I have plenty. And yet, my reflections on those three weeks, over 42 years ago, reminded me that even though I have developed many “trip wires" that cause me to run smack dab into not believing in myself, I can succeed. So I ran both races, at the rear of the pack, thinking of Bill and John, (and having my friend, Holly, text me that I should quit acting like a princess and run anyway) and what we did when we knew we had to succeed. I also was able to embrace being at the rear of the pack, at this point in my life, and not always worrying about coming in 30 minutes later than my previous average times. Two back surgeries have to be reckoned with whether I like it or not and being horribly introspective, self-centered and cynical was not helping my cause. I completed both races, with a smile on my face.

Thank you for reading these insane, self-absorbed accounts over the last five years. I pray that you will have a wonderful 2012 and not let that “invisible” barrier get in the way of a successful and winning year!!!

PS: The race medal is so cool.  See the pictures below. For each race, we got half a medal. We were then given a plate of about five inches in diameter where those medals could sit... and display the pride of finishing both races within 24 hours of each other. I had a one-and-a-half hour massage between the races which may have saved me from obliteration.

Prayer List: I prayed for lots of folks over the 26.2 miles I ran this New Year's weekend. I carried my e-mail list (about 500 names) with me thinking and praying for each of you and a wonderful 2012!!

Malibu International Half Marathon, Malibu, California, November 13, 2011

Race Number 44
 The Smutty, Trashy Romance Novel Version

It was a warm, fall morning on the beach at Malibu.  Brad (Pitt) looked at Angelina with disdain.  He knew the day had arrived that would certainly torment his soul for weeks. Mikie Marathoner was coming to Malibu to run in the Malibu International Half Marathon and Angelina had not been herself since she found out that Mikie was going to be running past their home, within ear shot and of course, within her vision to gaze on the man that had captured her heart so many years ago.  Brad was aware of the attraction and was insanely jealous of Mikie, for he knew he was a “7” compared to the perfect “10” that Angelina was infatuated with.  It attacked his heart and mind like an explosive leprosy.

Mikie was distracted too.  He had trained poorly for this race and felt he might create havoc for his body if he was not careful.  He was running at sea level, always a special benefit coming to the coast, yet he had visions of “Lips” waving to him, with forlorn eyes, knowing she COULD have had a life making a difference instead of “play acting” people who had made a difference.  Adding to Brad's torment was Brad's embarrassment that he had little workable knowledge, compared to Mikie, particularly of the Periodic Table, as he had watched Angie and Mikie chuckle one evening, over protein smoothies, comparing their shared knowledge of atomic numbers and the mistranslated myths of a stone-age desert nomad tribes.  Brad was no match when it came to intellect (I think he may have attended USC for a period of time, thus the defects in his intelligence)  and Mikie’s presence magnified that fact. It might be surmised that NO intelligent thought had really EVER crossed Brad’s mind in the last 15 years (very similar to Bono, who loves to get in front of the camera, with shaded glasses, and pontificate on his broad knowledge of absolutely nothing).  Therefore, Mikie would be the last person to introduce Brad to the seamy subculture of real THOUGHT!

Mikie started the race running on the beautiful cliffs lining the undeveloped coastline near Point Mugu. Mikie took in the beauty of the land and sea until mile 8 where he came to civilization and the live seafood market, Neptune’s Net, then crossing the famous surf spot of County Line where he had surfed as a young high school student as he ventured on a “Surfing Safari” up the LA County coast one long summer week in 1967. It was here that Mikie came to the first of the small rollers which would challenge him to the end. Only the thoughts of Angelina's supple face (and those lips, of course) kept him moving towards the finish line.  Would Angelina escape the grasp of Brad to meet Mikie at the finish line?  Mikie was motivated to quicken his step to find out.

The final six miles rolled along the coast past the north Malibu mansions.  It was here that Mikie’s heart yearned to stop and visit Angelina.  Yet, the final mile beckoned him and took him across the bluffs where he would pass the Malibu sign and drop downhill past the Trancas Market and into the Zuma Beach finish line.  As Mikie entered the last few hundred yards, he looked up and there she was…….. Angelina waiting for him…. tears running down her face as Mikie finished the race to Malibu!  

Mikie lunged towards Angelina as he crossed the finish line only to embrace a cardboard cutout of her from her last film, The Tourist.  He noticed that the tears were but condensation from the sea air, and certainly not the tears he imagined.  Brad had been successful in keeping Angie from one last interaction with Mikie.

Mikie slowly walked from the finish line to the water’s edge where he cooled his legs in the cold 59 degree surf.  He looked beyond the horizon and considered, "What if…..”   It was at that very moment that a rogue four foot wave hit Mikie square in the face and body and Mikie was drawn out to sea to never be heard from again (A fitting end to a trashy romance novel).

Publisher's note: We are in negotiations with Mikie to publish more of his smutty novel series after he runs races 45 and 46 in Allen, Texas on December 31^st and January 1^st.  (Yep, Mikie the Idiot is going to run two half marathons, back-to-back…… Therefore, you will have after-hangover reading to consider in the new year..... aren't you lucky). 

May your anticipation be like the warm air of a rising souffle' as you await the future tastings of the adventures of Mikie Marathoner.

Prayer List: Miles 1-3:  Cameron Munier had back surgery on his S1 disc and his L4/5 on Wednesday and is recovering.  Miles 4-6: Morgan Munier started a new job as the Facility Manager at Crown Pointe Academy in Westminster, CO and loves it.  Miles 7-9: Randy and Holly Phillips as they move to Austin, TX to lead a business venture.  Miles 10-13:  Mona Grant’s brother, Mike as he waits for a new heart as a transplant recipient.