Tag Archives: Texas State

Nacogdoches

21 Friday Oct 2016

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stephen-f-austinMy old high school buddy Toby Thurman posted this photo recently of us racing the 1500 meters in college.  Spoiler alert, he sprinted past me at the end.  I hope Toby is fat and bald now.  This particular race was at his college, Stephen F Austin, in Nacogdoches Texas, circa 1984.  I ran for Texas State.  I ran the 10K earlier in the morning, where after leading the entire race, yet another high school buddy running for SFA sprinted past me at the end.  That was Scott Holman.  He became a standup comic, so if he’s not fat and bald now, at least I know he’s starving to death.

Toby lamented on his post the loss of speed that comes with age.  The effects of aging are heightened by melancholy thoughts of youthful athleticism.  Still, I wouldn’t give up the memories of racing balls out around the track.  And even though I’m so much slower nowadays, I still enjoy racing.  When I returned to serious running a few years back, I couldn’t maintain a strong race pace for a complete event.  If the event was a 10K, I might find myself holding a strong pace alongside another runner for two of the six miles.  That was good enough for me.  I’ve improved to where I can race the complete distance now.  Not at a pace comparable to my youth, but that doesn’t matter.  Racing is a feeling as much as anything else, and it can be experienced at any pace as long as you’re running alongside someone of equal abilities.

This wasn’t a strong racing year for me and I miss it.  I’m still in pretty good shape, I just haven’t been running many events.  That’s about to change.  I’m signed up for two events in November.  The Shoes&Brews 5K and the Longmont Turkey Trot 10K.  Then the Colder Bolder 5K in early December.  Always a fun event across the CU campus with nice, free photos.  I’m going to finish the year strong.

Running Bums

01 Tuesday Mar 2016

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dirtbag runnersYou’ve heard of ski bums.  Maybe you were one.  It never ceases to amaze me how many people I meet in Colorado who tell me they originally moved here as a ski bum.  This photo captures running bums.  I grabbed it from Vanessa Run‘s FB site, hope she doesn’t mind.  Vanessa refers to such runners as dirtbag runners.  She actually co-hosts a site for dirtbag runners, so I’m not making this up.  Their Instagram site has some awesome running photos.  Vanessa is a classic running bum herself.  She lives out of an RV, runs trail races all over the continent, and writes the occasional running book like The Summit Seeker or Daughter’s of Distance.  She’s wearing the sunglasses.

I started thinking of running bums when my Austin running buddy Ken used the term to describe Jon as he caught me up-to-date on some guys we both used to run with back in the day.  Jon was one of my college cross country coaches at Texas State.  One of those coaches who runs with his charges.  He was only a few years older than the rest of us.  He was such a running bum.  He ate grass-fed smoothies decades before they were in vogue.  I never, ever saw him wear anything other than running sweats. To his credit, they were fashionable and not some Chariots of Fire gray cotton sweats.  To our dismay, he never washed them.  Jon smelled so bad, the entire team would have tears in our eyes when trapped in a van with him.  We drove once together from Central Texas all the way to Kansas.  Brutal.

Still, Jon was such a pleasant person.  He could talk about anything.  I imagine he still can. He became a letter carrier in Austin.  Ken brought him up to let me know Jon recently received a hip replacement and can no longer run.  Nightmare scenario for me.  I can’t imagine the impact on Jon.  He was such a running bum.  I don’t know that he ever won any of the big races but he was an elite athlete.  Running with him was an honor.  Bummer.

I wouldn’t mind becoming a running bum.  Not now, too many bills and commitments.  But in retirement.  I’ve been working on Karen to warm her up to the idea of moving to somewhere like Buena Vista.  That would put the Colorado Trail and the Collegiates at my doorstep.  Some of the finest trail running to be found anywhere in the world.  I could retire there.  Karen points out the tough winters and lack of nearby medical facilities at a time in our lives we might visit doctors more regularly.  I don’t know.  Fairly certain old people live there.  Old running bums.

Dripping Springs

07 Saturday Mar 2015

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Twisted XIt’s not raining.  It’s not even cold.  It’s as if God plans on attending SWSX, so suddenly the weather improves.  I meet up with Kenneth Hausman in the Twisted X Brewery parking lot for a rematch from last Sunday.  This Texmex brewery and brew pub is located on the edge of Dripping Springs, on the way out toward Driftwood.  With Ken is his friend and neighbor, 45 year old Steve Yacktman.  Steve is prepping for a triathlon and is using this as a speed workout.  Steve also runs $30B of investments at Yacktman Asset Management.  He said, when he makes a mistake at work, it typically costs him over $100M.  Despite the large turnout and fast looking runners today, Steve smiles broadly and calmly on the starting line.  No pressure here.  This is a video of him on Squawkbox at CNBC.

Steve YacktmanWe line up just behind the runners who we expect might run a minute per mile faster than us.  We’re capable of averaging 7 minute miles.  My goal is 6:45 per mile.  I really want to PR before flying home tomorrow back to altitude.  That’s a 6:42 pace.  The first quarter mile is on a cow trail.  We expected pavement but apparently Twisted X had trouble with the permits.  I’m fine with this, I love trail running.  Grass and trails are slower though.

I start out running behind both Ken and Steve on the trail.  I pass Ken once we hit the street and start to run alongside Steve.  He pulls in front of me as we climb a monster hill.  This is just before the one mile marker, which we cross in 6:28.  I’m concerned because this is 20 seconds faster than my race plan, but it does help explain why I’m so winded.

3rd PlaceThe street doesn’t last long and we soon find ourselves back in a cow pasture.  I pass Steve around the half way point as his stomach begins to cramp.  I wish I could say it was because I sped up.  As we return to the street and run back down the huge hill, Ken passes me.  This is just at the two mile point.  I run this second mile in 6:42 which I consider excellent.  I’m on pace to PR.  Of course, I’d feel even better if Ken didn’t just pass me but I still feel strong and am able to stay close behind him.  I catch my breath running down the hill and run alongside Ken for the next half mile.

We’re both breathing hard with spit spraying out of our gaping mouths and snot flying out our nostrils.  We’re in a race.  Ken is five years older than me but the age division for this race is 50 to 59 and he’s not backing off.  The street turns to trail again for the final quarter mile and I’m able to shoot ahead of him.  I can’t wait until the last 100 yards to out sprint Ken because for one, I don’t know that I can.  And two, I might hurt myself sprinting.  My early kick pays off and I cross the finish line 3 seconds ahead of Ken in 20:28 – a personal record – having run 6:44 for my final mile.  My 6:36 pace is good enough for third place in my age division, 10th place overall.  Steve takes second place in the 40-49 group.  We win custom-made bottle openers – exactly what to expect from a brewery.

GodspellThis will be my last Texas race for awhile.  My three weeks are coming to a close.  I saw some old friends, work colleagues and family.  I ate Thai for dinner last night, Pad Ped Gang Dang with Karen’s brother Steve and his wife Susan.  We watched their daughter Lucy in a church play Godspell, with her Grandparents.  That was fun.  And I met Chris Amaro for lunch Thursday.  He’s another running buddy from Texas State.  He graduated with a physics degree and went to work in Vegas for the Reagan Star Wars industry.  He works now as a physicist for the State of Texas Department of Health.  Chris was more into marathons at a younger age, running four in high school.  He last ran the Austin Marathon in 2007, but plans to train for another soon.  I come down every year to spend quality time with my mom but it’s nice to see other friends and family and get in some low altitude racing.  My next race might be the Bolder Boulder 10K at 5,400 feet.  Adios Texas.

The Hills of Lakeway

01 Sunday Mar 2015

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Kenneth Hausman Kenneth Hausman is a college running buddy I met at Texas State.  Meeting up for this run is his idea.  He shows up in his Chariots of Fire sweats a half hour before the start and we warm up together.

There’s a reason they call it the Hills of Lakeway.  I might be from Colorado, but I typically train on an extremely flat trail.  This morning’s 5K has a couple hundred feet of elevation change in three miles.  Unbelievable.  The first two hundred yards are flat, then the course drops, sometimes steeply, for the next half mile.  Ken takes the lead from the start but we settle into a three man lead pack with twenty-four year old Jimmy Ivey.  Jimmy ran Cross Country for West Virginia Tech and works now as a diesel mechanic for Caterpillar in Austin.

Mostly downhill, we run the first mile in 6:38, almost identical to the start of my 5K yesterday in New Braunfels.  We chat the entire time, because Ken, an insurance agent and serial entrepreneur, is a talker.  Ken and I quiet down once we start up the next hill.  Jimmy continues talking and doesn’t appear to be breathing, so we sense we’re in trouble.  As the hill begins to steepen, Jimmy gains some separation.  A half mile later, he has 20 seconds on me.  I’m able to count this from where we turn around at the half way point.

I chase Jimmy after the turn as it’s downhill again, but he increases his lead.  I hit mile two in 7:08, again almost identical to yesterday despite the extreme hills.  Mile three though is brutal – a half mile climb.  I’m breathing like a race horse on the back stretch and lactic acid burns inside my thighs.  I’m not going to catch Jimmy, he continues to increase his lead.  I run mile three in 7:31 – a half minute slower than yesterday’s third mile.  I cross the line in 21:58, 39 seconds behind Jimmy.  For the second day in a row, I place second overall.  Always a bridesmaid.  Kenneth finishes a close third.

AwardsWe feel pretty good because not only did we both finish in the top three, but there are no other fifty year olds in the top 20.  We celebrate our demonstrated vitality with breakfast tacos at Rudy’s BBQ on 620 – a quarter mile past the 2222 intersection.  Another cold and wet race on a rainy Central Texas weekend.  Not bad running weather, although not comfortable for standing around afterward.  I’m showered, warm and dry now.  Kenneth is talking about another 5K next Saturday down in Kyle.

Stoned in Long Sleeves

29 Friday Nov 2013

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finisher photoStarted out today’s run at 9am, a bit earlier than my other vacation day jaunts.  Less IBM email to process the morning after Thanksgiving.  Mostly Europe and AP.  Only ran 6 yesterday because the recent surge in miles is straining my left knee.  I’m thinking 12 today to chase after that 10 mile per day average.

It’s a comfortable 45° and I pocket my cap and gloves shortly after 2 miles.  Before 3 miles I tug the long sleeves of my T-shirt up over my forearms.  I’m wearing the crimson red shirt from the Durango Ultra I ran with Rob in October’s high country fall foliage.  It occurs to me I absolutely love wearing long sleeved T-shirts.  They exude the essence of my Colorado runner’s lifestyle.

I think back to a girl I dated in college.  I picked her up wearing my Chilympiad long-sleeved 10K race jersey tucked into faded jeans without a belt.  I was dating her roommate but she was out of town for winter break and told me to take Carol out to dinner.  The first words out of Carol’s mouth when she opened the door were, “Oh, I love a guy wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt.”  Texas Co-ed classy.  I recall we had a fun dinner at Grins.  Carol would begin singing Beatle’s songs at random moments in any conversation.  I remember her goodnight kiss to my lips when I dropped her off back at her apartment.  A bit scandalous but I never told her roommate.  What co-ed could resist a trim NCAA athlete, with blonde Tom Petty bangs, wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt.  That night might have cemented my affection for these sporty shirts.

It’s not only the shirt pulling up long-forgotten memories.  It’s the perfection of this run.  The dichotomy of the warm Colorado sun cutting through the cool, late November air.  It’s my view headed west on Ogallala Road of the milky white, frosted mountain peaks of the Continental Divide.  From this trail, I could look down at heaven.  Less than 3 miles into my run and I’m already deep into the runner’s high.  My blissful condition holds for the next 11 miles.  Every other runner, biker, and dog-walker that I encounter smiles warmly at me.  No doubt in response to my face beaming broadly.

I complete 14 miles at an 8 minute pace.  I can’t imagine the day getting better.  Except the family is home for the holidays.  Music is in the air with Brit playing piano and singing with Ellie all week long.  Being a house of girls, they are currently watching the Hallmark channel with Karen in the family room.  I’m sitting in my office now watching college football.  Iowa is beating Nebraska.  I could almost squeal in delight.  How’s your day going?

Seasonal Slowdown

17 Saturday Nov 2012

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Can you believe the size of this sign?  I suspect most college track teams don’t even have a sign.  Only in Texas.  I connected with my old team on Facebook recently.  Only see one team member – Michael (Tap) Tapscott – on this page from my years.    That guy was such a bad ass 800 meter runner.  I haven’t found any of my cross country buddies at this FB page although I am friends with one of them already.  Apparently ’80s runners don’t live big digital lives.  Considering what little running I’ve been doing the last two weeks, virtual running by finding past teammates online might be all I do this winter.

You might gain an extra hour of sleep when daylight savings ends, but I swear you lose hours to the darkness in the days after.  I only had time to run once all week.  I hope to make up for it this weekend.  Ran seven today and will run at least ten tomorrow.  I’ll somehow squeeze it all in between dropping off Jack at the dog groomers, getting my own haircut, grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, servicing the cars, holiday decorating.  Today was a day of a thousand errands.  Tomorrow will be more of the same but I’ll get my run in for sure.  Today’s run was the quintessential fall scamper on the LoBo Trail.

The wind blew from the east with a nose of burning leaves.  Not sure what farmers roast this time of year, but the air smelled seasonal.  My thoughts drifted to Thanksgiving next week with family in Carlsbad.  Laura will have her house crafted beautifully for the holidays.  Chad will cook an unending feast with the focused fervor of Daniel Craig in the opening scenes of a Bond film.  I’ll contribute the wine.  Carlsbad has a nice running loop around the river downtown that I intend to run Thursday, Friday and Saturday.  I’ll get back on track next week.