not really hot, is all in the mind

As I ran, I was thinking that it was hot.  The mental picture of heat was all around me, in my peripherals.  I thought that people should/would be cheering my dedication.  I can remember one year at the U of I in Iowa City; the day after a grad student shot some people in one of the campus buildings, classes were called off.  The next day was about 0 degrees and I went for a run.  I was wearing a sweatshirt, hat, gloves, etc. and passed someone who said, “That’s dedication.”
Running is nothing if not psychological.  The mere forecast of warm weather is enough to slow me down.  I ran today at 5:00 pm when the temperature was 95 degrees.  The temp was supposed to be 98 degrees.  Yes, only a tiny difference, but I was thinking while I was working that it didn’t seem to be terribly hot.  We quit work at 2:00.
I wore a black t-shirt today—even as I put it on, I was thinking that it might not be a wise choice.  Black absorbs the sun’s energy, while white reflects it.  One person asked me about the black t-shirt and we agreed that it didn’t really make that much difference.  I said that it was like the cold here in Iowa.  When you have on all your clothes—the insulated coveralls, the flannel shirt, sweatshirt, insulated rubber boots, etc.—and you go out, you are just cold.
The temperature made me think of the pre-Italy bike trip in Albania.  I rode 50 miles in 106-degree heat.  I may not have attempted such a ride if I had known that it was so hot.  http://italianbikejob.wordpress.com/2011/08/27/52-miles-102-f/

farewell Panora

Today may have been my last run in Panora.  Sold the house…moving stuff out.  I was able to visit a couple people who I have gotten to know around the lake.  In the fall, I accosted one guy who was always watering his lawn; I asked him if he really needed to do all that watering.  I was implying that he was wasting water. He was the right person to talk to because he was not only NOT wasting water, but he has used geo-thermal heating for 30 years, he knows all about recycling, and he doesn’t believe humans are changing the climate because he actually KNOWS about it.  He schooled me in the waste of energy.
I stopped by his house during my run, his wife got him out of bed by telling him that James Martin has sold his house and he’s come by to say good-bye.  He’s one of the most interesting, knowledgeable, accomplished people I know.
About the running…I remember when I used to think that a 60-second sprint up the hill near our house might be out of reach.  Today, I think the two respites I enjoyed talking to people during the run may have super-charged me at the end.  I ran less than one second off the pace of my fastest time (of 54.80 on the 15th of May).  I didn’t feel like I was running fast.  I guess I am used to the speed now.

water-logged fields, no work

With 1.5 inches of rain yesterday, the boss called off work in the vegetable fields for today.  The boys were able to sleep late—until almost 9:00—and then they did a page of math practice before we went out to run/bike.  We ran to their day care center where they had left their books.  Then we ran to the high school track where I ran the quarter mile.  It was not a speedy time, but not a terribly slow time, either.  Then ran home—Maxim had to walk his bike because he had slid down a slide that had water at the bottom.  After I left him to change his clothes and Oskar to be cool, I went out and did my final sprint.  There was so much on my mind, I guess I didn’t run very quickly.

I was quite pleased.  With this time off, I will be able to run today so I don’t have to run tomorrow when we need to drive to Panora.  Not only would I have time to spend with the boys, but I would be able to get some sleep in preparation for the interview I have tomorrow morning.  I will be interviewed by a person in Moscow.  This person will determine if I am capable of successfully completing a course on teaching English to speakers of other languages.

slog

Ran by myself again this morning.  I felt a bit sluggish, and my time in the 1/4-mile shows it.  I am trying to get the boys to bed earlier so they will get enough sleep.  Yesterday, the wind was blowing as strongly against me as any time I can remember on the way back from the farm.  Today, I drove…and gave the two Mexican agricultural experts a ride to the farm.  In the morning and early afternoon, I was wishing I had ridden the bike: I would’ve been riding with the wind in the morning, and by afternoon, the weather had become much cooler. After a day of threatened rain, however, the sky opened up and dumped .8 inches in 30 minutes.  Good thing I didn’t ride.


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hot and humid

Ran by myself today beginning at 5:30 while boys slept.  The quarter mile in the middle was a bit disappointing, as was the final sprint.  Oh, well, I didn’t feel like I was running very fast; unlike the last time I felt this way, I truly wasn’t running fast.  The weather is terribly hot.  Working in the field is sweaty, sticky, hot, and windy.  The boys like to ride their bikes to day care, so I ride with them, and then I ride out to the field.  Yesterday, the ride was not too bad because the wind was not strong.  Today, the forecast is for stronger wind.

RAGBRAI

Ran with the boys again today.  The time is pretty much a mystery because we stopped a few times to play on swing sets or play on slides.  We also went over to my co-workers house to visit her rabbit.  She was not there, we found the rabbit UNDER his hutch twitching his nose.
One interesting this about today is that I beat my record for the ¼ mile--.19% faster.  (I figured the percentage for the final sprint record incorrectly.  I should be .05% instead of .0005% It may be a laughable ‘record’ for those who can really run, but I’m satisfied with it.  I remembered to run on my toes from the beginning.  That may be the difference.
We were putting up the trampoline and we needed to get some bolts.  Oskar said, “We can ride our bikes, can’t we?”
At first I said we needed to drive because we were going to the grocery store, too.  Then I figured that we could put stuff in the bike bags, so we did ride.  As we entered the street, Oskar asked rhetorically, “Don’t you understand that I love to ride my bike?  That’s why I am so excited about RAGBRAI.”  I’m thrilled.

The dream continues

The dream continues. Within the first hour of us arriving back in town, the boys and I went out—me for a jog, them for a bike ride.  It was deliciously wonderful.  This is exactly what I always wanted when I would imagine raising kids.  AND I’ve always wanted someone to run with.  Oskar is still learning everything so sometimes I would need to jog pretty slowly but he will come along.  I am doing my best to train him to ride further to the outside of the road than I’m running; it’s a learning environment when one discovers how little kids comprehend about the workings of the world

Maxim was having fun making skid marks and predictably had a mishap. I came up to him, brushed off the knee—“A little ground in dirt.  No problem.  A milestone of life.” 
 “Do you know what milestone means, Maxim?”
 “No.”
 “It means this is a hallmark—something that is a signpost, a major event that everyone goes through.”  I could see out of the corner of my eye that he wasn’t impressed.  “Doesn’t make it hurt any less when I say that though, huh?”
 “No.”  He got back on the bike and it must have been a bit of genuine hurt—5 minutes later he was limping.  Six minutes, no.

We ran through some minor streets, not hard to find in a town of 4000, and near a softball field where girls were warming up for a game.  This is where I did my pull-ups.  Maxim was enthralled by the softball practice.  Would you like to do that someday, Maxim?  Would you like to come down and watch a game someday?  He’s ready for everything.  Imagine, a couple Iowa boys who have never played a moment of baseball.  There are ball fields littering the town like gemstones. The location of our house is fantastic…right in the middle of them all. 

I was running mostly slowly with the boys, I stopped a few times, but I did do a 6 minute run in the middle with a 60-second sprint.  When we got around to home, I arranged it so I would be running the final sprint.  I must have had some energy built up because I beat the record—completely unexpectedly—by .05%.  I didn’t feel like I was going that fast.  My mind wasn’t on the run—but on a myriad of other distractions from the whether the boys were keeping to the side of the road to the black clouds overhead.  I didn’t do badly, though.  Oskar said, “You were running so fast, Papa!  I was pedaling and zooming!  So much I didn’t even have to pedal! (his first experience with momentum and coasting, I guess)  But I still couldn’t reach you.”

Afterwards, we all road our bikes over to a co-worker’s house to see her rabbit; then to see their day-care place, then to see the cats and the garden.  Small towns are great.