tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78613752024-02-02T00:11:18.613-06:00 Run Slow, Ski Fast Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.comBlogger159125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-5709614867740931192015-02-07T21:41:00.001-06:002015-02-07T21:41:31.672-06:00My Mid-Winter Classic<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Instead of running the Charleston Mid-Winter Classic, I ran my own classi 10 miles. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMnvNe1xCpvwAfx8s634ro2eL4mMV-jxvK3cMstYjLi80PKTZ9ld48iXtVPiOKW41DsqdtY21nh2CRH22XDWyg9VSkOpR1CpLKvKbzLHWUJ-EGy9VW94cTFaequCVzuEywNcDy/s640/blogger-image--1661431509.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMnvNe1xCpvwAfx8s634ro2eL4mMV-jxvK3cMstYjLi80PKTZ9ld48iXtVPiOKW41DsqdtY21nh2CRH22XDWyg9VSkOpR1CpLKvKbzLHWUJ-EGy9VW94cTFaequCVzuEywNcDy/s640/blogger-image--1661431509.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguCaEa4vF9G92zHyPIpl6Csff7Ba6Xw7Mad73wvo4hvyfWFT2grft3S6FROgQQXexHdDDZbXnJgRYsG2xAsRPUK5mgH8vn3GZhcR2g9_6hOe6_lb6zvJaj0MjKyirRG1iCdwQx/s640/blogger-image--952859215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguCaEa4vF9G92zHyPIpl6Csff7Ba6Xw7Mad73wvo4hvyfWFT2grft3S6FROgQQXexHdDDZbXnJgRYsG2xAsRPUK5mgH8vn3GZhcR2g9_6hOe6_lb6zvJaj0MjKyirRG1iCdwQx/s640/blogger-image--952859215.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I've been running in Brooks since 1990. They are my classic running shoes. Sorry Nike. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifdIGAiW9wQIHcznwyWQVRZFS-qvKG6_gHMRTPV9DtlbFaVsMHobLSWtjWHxv4qyxcvOFYNkM2HRe0NorBBvQ1XJek3B7Qr6a5rxg4ADu_m-f-Stur22B7oAbS7C1W47nVUut0/s640/blogger-image--1335641031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifdIGAiW9wQIHcznwyWQVRZFS-qvKG6_gHMRTPV9DtlbFaVsMHobLSWtjWHxv4qyxcvOFYNkM2HRe0NorBBvQ1XJek3B7Qr6a5rxg4ADu_m-f-Stur22B7oAbS7C1W47nVUut0/s640/blogger-image--1335641031.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The classic bike trail north of Charleston. It has provided me many good miles and a few not so good miles. </div><br></div>Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-8984252184714253292015-02-05T07:50:00.001-06:002015-02-05T07:50:33.011-06:00My Morning Run. Not The Only Idiot.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Only mad dogs and runner go out in this weather but I saw foot prints in the snow of a few other runners so I'm not the only idiot. It took two miles to warm up but the last three were rather comfortable except for my two ring fingers. Weird. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl_QLdytZgYTerPb5zu3QewPcUKSl64LcK2MKL1FAcToLvetJsGY-ZrYYP99oMfQx83vb2sg0jJbz7h4RoicZi22M2xLu-Jy1032lG9T_Jfox54r6Vda1vnn5JzZvS5uZD1BNF/s640/blogger-image--809410605.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl_QLdytZgYTerPb5zu3QewPcUKSl64LcK2MKL1FAcToLvetJsGY-ZrYYP99oMfQx83vb2sg0jJbz7h4RoicZi22M2xLu-Jy1032lG9T_Jfox54r6Vda1vnn5JzZvS5uZD1BNF/s640/blogger-image--809410605.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-85167280612562585782014-11-21T22:16:00.003-06:002014-11-22T07:36:46.464-06:00My Moab Trail Sub-Marathon.<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Moab marathon was a blast...in my mind’s rearview mirror. The whole thing was struggle but it was worth it. Wait, that’s a lie. The whole marathon wasn’t a struggle, only the first 23 miles. The last three miles were no problem because I dropped out with three miles to go. Why not just walk those last 3 miles and finish? Just because.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">All smiles at the start. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Because…I wake up at 4:30 am on the day before to drive to the St. Louis airport. Road constructions delays my drive but I get to the airport on time. My flight to Denver and to Salt Lake are uneventful except for the turbulence over the front range of the Rockies. Thrifty car rental upgrades me from a compact to a crossover only because I don’ think they really have any compact cars. I call mom on my way to Provo to pick up Erin. She’s in a good mood but does mention that Monday would be a good day to die. Her comment reminds me of Chief Dan George in Little Big Man. Note to self: watch Little Big Man again soon.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPwTt4tWTxCYqtLpMkD1q4yZXT8aaLnFNiKLc0a7c0P3MGz8m4gNfdmJs3EgqxZMAYPGF-XRZiDG7t_lJrBXOUgrxpiiBS0WEjX31TYj0We7y1Emxmg_Vhnzb3bdUhBe_a7Bup/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-21+at+9.38.09+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPwTt4tWTxCYqtLpMkD1q4yZXT8aaLnFNiKLc0a7c0P3MGz8m4gNfdmJs3EgqxZMAYPGF-XRZiDG7t_lJrBXOUgrxpiiBS0WEjX31TYj0We7y1Emxmg_Vhnzb3bdUhBe_a7Bup/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-21+at+9.38.09+PM.png" height="239" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Erin's picture looking up Pritchett's canyon</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYWWcNinj3MRzlXepZv_qYFE6-ZiwWR8QDT8onMCVzLbHwb6EvC3jmcugoTfha_j7K-QZKabdGlUcGxBbTb_OJmsfDOy7jmwZDX9kdo7UD-5g1Zv76OhDepdg_KtmZh0tMiUtq/s1600/DSCN0358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYWWcNinj3MRzlXepZv_qYFE6-ZiwWR8QDT8onMCVzLbHwb6EvC3jmcugoTfha_j7K-QZKabdGlUcGxBbTb_OJmsfDOy7jmwZDX9kdo7UD-5g1Zv76OhDepdg_KtmZh0tMiUtq/s1600/DSCN0358.jpg" height="233" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Pritchett's Canyon with runners below and above.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh91-ylAbr3Rjn-vOIYfcAIvF2ouN6IONBO0GMMIndTFvAy8EzWGmsuW_V_lfXGXT6WLHjqygyBqx4KaDsJJOq11om_eSbogMEt79LY6zJ9Y1mWbCuyzmjI_osg_JRrhOPvFvAD/s1600/10445551_10205223517133353_849760547784008793_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh91-ylAbr3Rjn-vOIYfcAIvF2ouN6IONBO0GMMIndTFvAy8EzWGmsuW_V_lfXGXT6WLHjqygyBqx4KaDsJJOq11om_eSbogMEt79LY6zJ9Y1mWbCuyzmjI_osg_JRrhOPvFvAD/s1600/10445551_10205223517133353_849760547784008793_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Tom's photo of Bill, me and the rest of the ants</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Tom snapped this of me. The trail was very well marked. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Three Amingo with Hunter's Canyon in the background.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPks_ogiPteyC_okxWCNSzYd0OQEv3R6dwCgOljYbS11xD4McM1YTBV9mrG_Bp7Us-hQGAyjz9wht88-QTsD1vT_jAugD2habP5lYT6prQUq8ffccoLKa5yUHTCS1x-CzHPhw/s1600/DSCN0384.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPks_ogiPteyC_okxWCNSzYd0OQEv3R6dwCgOljYbS11xD4McM1YTBV9mrG_Bp7Us-hQGAyjz9wht88-QTsD1vT_jAugD2habP5lYT6prQUq8ffccoLKa5yUHTCS1x-CzHPhw/s1600/DSCN0384.jpg" height="245" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My favorite part of the run overlooking Hunter Canyon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Erin is ready to go. We drive through Wendy’s for food and Dr. Peppers and head south to Moab. The drive is full of good conversation, bad drivers, and scenery much different from Illinois. We stop in Price to pick up essentials (more Dr. Pepper, bananas, and bagels) at the Walmart. We pull into Moab around 6:00 and meet Tom and Shelly at the race “expo” a Milt’s Stop and Eat. What Milt’s is is a walk up ice-cream and burger place and not a convention center. It’s all outdoors with no expo just race bid numbers, packets full of typical stuff, and an ugly T-shirt. If you think of the Chicago Marathon race expo at McCormick center and imagine the exact opposite, you have the Moab Trail Marathon non-expo at Milts. There’s good ice-cream, at Milt’s though. Well, that’s what I was told. I did eat there back in 1990 during my only other trip to Moab to try out my new Jamis mountain bike with Bill, Tom and Jim. Moab has changed sine 1990. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgovyBxcZmWv8zIysRBiuFymxjIeO5pnXXTTtstaqg62afhC3DS6AbxSlzTAA-FkvdNWaTtROirZBdN9-u6vKm8xN7XLrk8soFZuleJr6MaIWWH68AWVx2xaxhJbnnf0NWyF76Q/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-20+at+11.05.19+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgovyBxcZmWv8zIysRBiuFymxjIeO5pnXXTTtstaqg62afhC3DS6AbxSlzTAA-FkvdNWaTtROirZBdN9-u6vKm8xN7XLrk8soFZuleJr6MaIWWH68AWVx2xaxhJbnnf0NWyF76Q/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-20+at+11.05.19+AM.png" height="211" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Bill and me running down Tom.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After spending a total of 5 minutes at the “expo” we drive to the Hampton Inn and check into the room next to Tom and Shelly’s. Sensing I may not be up to driving back to Provo after the marathon, I ask if there are rooms available for the next night but they’ll full. So I reserve a room at the cheap and, I’m sure more super, Super 8 up the road. Bill drives in from his cabin rental and we all go to Zax for pizza and a lot of laughter. “Did you just say, “Thank-you?”. We catch a little of the Aggie’s victory over the Cowboys in rainy Laramie but Saturday’s forecast for Moab is perfect running weather. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Erin (aka E-ran) looking strong.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Because…I sleep well for a couple hours but after that I awake every hour until I finally just get up at 5:30. We don’t need to leave the hotel until 7:30 and the race doesn’t begin until 8:45. It’s a shame to leave all the sleep in a decent hotel bed. I’m too much like my mom. Maybe I have restless leg syndrome? Tom and Shelly eat waffles in the hotel lobby while Erin and I stick with DP, banana, bagel and I add a PowerBar. Bill arrives at the hotel all rested for a carpool trip to the start. We were told if we carpooled (three or more people) we could park near the start. However, we are directed to park with the non-carpoolers about a quarter mile from the start. Tom and Bill recount their 20 mile bike ride on part of the trail we are to run on and how Tom bonked real hard. Do I hear ominous music in the background? </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXAwSWIqREGAEML_oCqUfMZCaObx6TnhZt3tpQvmKnFg15d7aDAxfulOhxsAKRb0NKskCM4fdAug5OdAXczFlEU5kvRR49ScDslxizqYLOoSORpd8zJMEqWzFkt5qCpinuQnqh/s1600/10007380_10101120684007372_7267137499109854694_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXAwSWIqREGAEML_oCqUfMZCaObx6TnhZt3tpQvmKnFg15d7aDAxfulOhxsAKRb0NKskCM4fdAug5OdAXczFlEU5kvRR49ScDslxizqYLOoSORpd8zJMEqWzFkt5qCpinuQnqh/s1600/10007380_10101120684007372_7267137499109854694_o.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Tom running through the wall!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">By the time we walk to the start and stop at the Port-a-potties it’s time for Bill, Tom, Erin and me gather in the start corral. Shelly decides to give us all a head start and begins in the following group. It’s chilly but I throw away my throw-away-shirt before we begin. We take a couple of selfies and we’re off! Sunny skies, crisps air, red sandstone and yellow autumn leaves. It couldn't be more beautiful and only a few things distract me from the dessert splendor. The first distraction was the number of runners. There were more than I expected so there’s the usual maneuvering in and around people up the first few miles of Pritchett Canyon. It’s a little more challenging being a trail marathon with limited places to pass or be passed. Erin hangs with us for first few mile but eventually, Bill and Tom’s pace separate us. However, we do we see her later on. The view at the top of the canyon is amazing, especially rearward down the canyon. It’s nearly impossible to not want to stop and take pictures so we and just about everyone else do just that. I’m motivated to move on knowing we have a downhill ahead of us. I buzz around a few of the slower pokes on the down hill and then we hit a nice flat portion which provides a great view of Pritchett’s Arch. Along the way, Bill chats with a lady from Long Island who is running her first marathon with her ultra marathon running friend until we arrive at the first aid station.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ7gYd7ZXOThIxpwLjM4t8rXJTDw0XAWrjUiTCfvp43liNK2Ryb4q5tXU432bt1v_fhTYGhcZvwvhlWVtEvVZZe1fHLxqMhQgW-hpDyQ55pTjVCRCW3Zky9TOJCYw7vkErtmAy/s1600/1294357_10101120683139112_1444039108399120566_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ7gYd7ZXOThIxpwLjM4t8rXJTDw0XAWrjUiTCfvp43liNK2Ryb4q5tXU432bt1v_fhTYGhcZvwvhlWVtEvVZZe1fHLxqMhQgW-hpDyQ55pTjVCRCW3Zky9TOJCYw7vkErtmAy/s1600/1294357_10101120683139112_1444039108399120566_o.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Bill after the turn around in Hunter's Canyon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A little further on, more pictures are taken as we run above Hunter’s Canyon. I meet a guy from Kansas City who used to work for Sprint and shares my challenge of training for a mountainous, Utah, marathon in the Midwest. The next mile or two is the most enjoyable for me. The trail is mostly flat but winds up and down, over and around rocks all while looking out over Hunter Canyon. A this time I’m jealous of Molly because I want to look at the trail with one eye and the scenery with the other. But, my oscillating gazes comes to stop when we hit a traffic jam. A traffic jam? There’s no traffic jams in marathons! But we end up waiting in a line for 20-30 minutes waiting to descend through two large rock to the trail 8 feet below. Volunteers are helping the runners through, but it’s slow going. We look back and see Erin waiting in line a little ways behind us. This log jam is my second frustration but it gives me time to ponder; should I continue on with Tom and Bill and or wait for Erin and switch to the half marathon. It’s a tough call. My legs are already feeling like I’m at mile 19 but it’s only mile 9. As I’m pondering my future, out of the blue, Bill sings out, “Jitter bug” just like he was Georg Micahels from Wham. I thought Tom was going to roll down the mountain with laughter. One, it was so random and two, since when does Bill know a Wham song? Did Emmy Lou Harris cover Wake Me Up Before You Go Go? Still waiting in line, a short, 20 something girl behind Bill asks him if she can have a drink from one of his water bottles. It’s an odd request since we can see the next aid station in the canyon below. But, it’s also a scary request since with a long, green flow of snot coming out of one of her nostrils and a little bit a foam in each corner of her mouth. Bill reluctantly agrees and is relieve that the bottle didn’t touch her mouth but we’re all creeped out for the rest of our lives. We approached the bottle neck and scurry down and continue on. Eventually, a different volunteer arrives who knew something and showed runners a second route that speed things up by the time Shelly arrived.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHGt-n7h9Efd2vTIB1OzoTlFiQXhqQvJz5rQnDIFbVRQBRArM_H3J0uVxnNHV0bunvg9LGv2bb8wNuKsfgU7npuPJuBWgtytJ1jrOT7fFwxFR0fgrUsw_n-bOk9J-akBKWZr3T/s1600/DSCN0386.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHGt-n7h9Efd2vTIB1OzoTlFiQXhqQvJz5rQnDIFbVRQBRArM_H3J0uVxnNHV0bunvg9LGv2bb8wNuKsfgU7npuPJuBWgtytJ1jrOT7fFwxFR0fgrUsw_n-bOk9J-akBKWZr3T/s1600/DSCN0386.jpg" height="220" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Erin's view from the line.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCsvkyX-_AyziwSpkLJ70x0BNLiE_TzJSKz8bPdS7O20sVZD864mBXjyBwth-qSiezIihwZGvqA0udEA87jkFblxOej0ZuGiAmJzFHkUlMHu72GKyro-AwRVVyQRt4ryfz2IBo/s1600/DSCN0391.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCsvkyX-_AyziwSpkLJ70x0BNLiE_TzJSKz8bPdS7O20sVZD864mBXjyBwth-qSiezIihwZGvqA0udEA87jkFblxOej0ZuGiAmJzFHkUlMHu72GKyro-AwRVVyQRt4ryfz2IBo/s1600/DSCN0391.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This is what caused the traffic jam.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNVaQChuJ3UI9rdnCW9pJ3VSUZMteJbci26ik5Cn_AZsqrvfQeL44PJKPQNvUBfUXRlVuZa2vpX5itycGatf4Vn-UJgVXleWyXGt4ePVTRutQs2ncunjoE3GgLRefuK5oxBQEs/s1600/DSCN0390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNVaQChuJ3UI9rdnCW9pJ3VSUZMteJbci26ik5Cn_AZsqrvfQeL44PJKPQNvUBfUXRlVuZa2vpX5itycGatf4Vn-UJgVXleWyXGt4ePVTRutQs2ncunjoE3GgLRefuK5oxBQEs/s1600/DSCN0390.jpg" height="226" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The annoying wait gave me a false sense of respite that tricked me into deciding I might as well finish what I started. Oh, boy. So with determination, or was it confusing, in my head and not much in my legs, I turned left instead of right towards miles 10 through 23. After a short jot down a dirt road we are required to run an out-and-back section in Hunter’s Canyon. Up to this point, Tom and Bill would run ahead of me take pictures while I leap frogged pass them and then catching back up to me. But towards the turn around point, I finally got out my phone and took a couple of pictures of Tim and Bill. The canyon was pretty but it was a single track trail with runners going up and down the trail with little room for passing. Frustration number three. Going up, I considered reversing course at the end of the out and back and joining the half marathoners. But, since we were almost to mile 14 I figured it won’t be that much shorter. Going left out of the canyon meant 13 more miles. Going right, 5 more miles. Now I’m no math major but but Bill in a math minor and he’s my brother so I know that’s an eight mile difference. Note to self: don’t try to do math while running. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5kJXakAxB_BmPp8XMI_rp2mgd5yO7Qh7wWBqu2hG7obgXGT1Rzia5RQFMeXbJ6roYKTThK7NK-zRjYEalpxLXbuoRzt9m495TFSytfGrWuitBjHGJkfphjrpeS19wfx5sdwhX/s1600/image7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5kJXakAxB_BmPp8XMI_rp2mgd5yO7Qh7wWBqu2hG7obgXGT1Rzia5RQFMeXbJ6roYKTThK7NK-zRjYEalpxLXbuoRzt9m495TFSytfGrWuitBjHGJkfphjrpeS19wfx5sdwhX/s1600/image7.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Looking up Burned Wall</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphenqxvNlS12t-ESdjv-CWpQy1Pbd4blJZlnK-XDXt01DSbimbdlAH-cZ5EzDfuFggVoRluSEGDci22q766dZaiUq8y7_GzsgR-q3d-qF0RnQuX0gc763CmAmyhiUnfv6JkX9Mn/s1600/image8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphenqxvNlS12t-ESdjv-CWpQy1Pbd4blJZlnK-XDXt01DSbimbdlAH-cZ5EzDfuFggVoRluSEGDci22q766dZaiUq8y7_GzsgR-q3d-qF0RnQuX0gc763CmAmyhiUnfv6JkX9Mn/s1600/image8.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Looking back down Burned Wall</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRb6fGyxMA_SohKwZjygEAl9QR2lYSmOg79dGrC_Oy23XRWmbE9fYryh2S8VE52aLPBH0JMangEbVn0PGDXt5AP7e4fvngPikpLCIO5XH4C-Hfe_yeLszUwmqUHqZrFBVblcfd/s1600/10645306_10205223516293332_4529131220089686801_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRb6fGyxMA_SohKwZjygEAl9QR2lYSmOg79dGrC_Oy23XRWmbE9fYryh2S8VE52aLPBH0JMangEbVn0PGDXt5AP7e4fvngPikpLCIO5XH4C-Hfe_yeLszUwmqUHqZrFBVblcfd/s1600/10645306_10205223516293332_4529131220089686801_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">View from the top. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sensing trouble, I down a Hammer Endurolytes at the mile 14 aid station but I should have taken two…or three…or four. We run through some tall willows or whatever and emerge to see a mile and a half ascent cut diagonally up Burned Wall. Looking up at what’s ahead a few bad words came into my head and likely out of my mouth. With no other option I push upward with Bill and Tom right behind me. The first quarter was okay, of course I walked the entire distance, as do most of the runners at this point. Did the leaders actually run up this entire section? They must have. Show offs. I reassure myself with the thought that after this accent i’s mostly downhill. That thought helps but then my calves began to cramp up. Angry calves with 11 miles to go? Great. Bill slips me a couple extra Endurolytes which help get me to the top. And, oh what a from there! Maybe not entirely worth the pain to get there but the view is amazing. And, I’m glad because Bill and Tom didn’t seem to mind taking a lot of pictures. The more pictures, the more rest for my legs. Tom even got cell reception so he sent a message to Shelly telling her how slow we, or I, were/was going but it never got to her. At this point, Shelly and Erin had already finished </span>and<span style="font-family: inherit;"> were waiting for us at the finish </span>line.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFBve52fJjaLv3VqRcTgJVQxHe-8dxKi8vGNRvsJClq9L0NdCUUE2zBNFpR3ExkwsziEIKATcYK__ziN94mTDk7XoEryHbFae4SoJdi_pMFVWwqFlkigcscqT6w0o3Ay12j2KG/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-20+at+5.53.55+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFBve52fJjaLv3VqRcTgJVQxHe-8dxKi8vGNRvsJClq9L0NdCUUE2zBNFpR3ExkwsziEIKATcYK__ziN94mTDk7XoEryHbFae4SoJdi_pMFVWwqFlkigcscqT6w0o3Ay12j2KG/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-20+at+5.53.55+PM.png" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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Erin crossing the finish line.</div>
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<a href="http://eggsaladerin.blogspot.com/2014/11/its-time-to-end-this-blogging-hiatus.html" target="_blank">Read her account of the day here.</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">With over 10 miles to go we needed to move on so we head northeast towards the mile 17.5 aid station. It’s mostly flat here so my legs aren’t cramping and I felt better until about mile 16 when my calves balled up into tight little bundles. Bill and Tom waited for me, once again, and we snapped a few pics just before mile 17 aid station where were we greeted by a Sammy Hagar look-a-like and another volunteer. While we ate and drank the second volunteers told us the story about the race director, Danelle Ballengee, who, while out of a run, fell and broke her hip just above where we are. She crawled down into the ravine nearby for water but was too injured to crawl out. Fortunately, she was running with her dog, who eventually went one down the canyon and led the rescuers to her. It’s an amazing story. (<a href="http://www.runnersworld.com/running-with-dogs/dogged?page=single">http://www.runnersworld.com/running-with-dogs/dogged?page=single</a>) I would have enjoyed listening to more stores from these two volunteers but that would only prolong things. I jogged about a mile after the aid station, passed Bill and Tom talking to a biker, but then they caught up to me, pass me and continue onward up a slight incline. Meanwhile, my legs were done. I was done. Too bad because this part of the trail would was mostly on rock with the trail marked by white paint strips. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My Heros.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1cCnBsa-eAe2L_MoGoNeAo2b9DFB1_7a2JqrcN-y4puoaJaMec_utr0lbhFV31wOW4y8Xs9qRQp_j12HS0PUkDLLfJbpomIVjlo0L1g6XZ30B32XEdtBOJENh2GgjPbx4blh/s1600/10171723_10205223518133378_4540456256820389054_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1cCnBsa-eAe2L_MoGoNeAo2b9DFB1_7a2JqrcN-y4puoaJaMec_utr0lbhFV31wOW4y8Xs9qRQp_j12HS0PUkDLLfJbpomIVjlo0L1g6XZ30B32XEdtBOJENh2GgjPbx4blh/s1600/10171723_10205223518133378_4540456256820389054_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Tom took this picture of Bill and me with Jackson Hole (not Wyoming) in the background.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz_vu_oBixTHyNqqxC-UA_1QyGnHJLF1oeyat5d5hPtT5A1uVxsTiMriRXIOwHG6HZ-hV26vYc-yrpU7ib54s74cb3R6GmGVDRyczNCu-BoelR_30anQ8eKhp6YORBtNf92ibp/s1600/image9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz_vu_oBixTHyNqqxC-UA_1QyGnHJLF1oeyat5d5hPtT5A1uVxsTiMriRXIOwHG6HZ-hV26vYc-yrpU7ib54s74cb3R6GmGVDRyczNCu-BoelR_30anQ8eKhp6YORBtNf92ibp/s1600/image9.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unknown runner getting through a tight spot near mile 17.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Bill is up there somewhere taking....</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ycxIW-CE_ntDquhX5DozgIu-_6IrBdDWk2Qws19uZslZhE658tNHuLd98PyHEvGsFfRMmvSah-V3kWt_CUsTg7TUeBNGZ769TpKqBNF2aeffHgD3cb_23IRjCa8qJ8N7MVOH/s1600/10484560_10204354636580352_5814601579723639324_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ycxIW-CE_ntDquhX5DozgIu-_6IrBdDWk2Qws19uZslZhE658tNHuLd98PyHEvGsFfRMmvSah-V3kWt_CUsTg7TUeBNGZ769TpKqBNF2aeffHgD3cb_23IRjCa8qJ8N7MVOH/s1600/10484560_10204354636580352_5814601579723639324_o.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">...this picture of Tom below heading to the mile 17.5 aid station.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The medial side of Bill’s knee is bothering him but he and Tom tap out a nice pace to the next aid station while I walk. Every attempt to jog causes an instant rebellion in my calves. Even my right chest muscle cramps a little bit and my left and right arms started to tingle. During this stretch a few mountain bikers passed me going the other way and each one told me “good job” or something similar. It’s nice of them to try and be encouraging but I new better. Just like a couple of faithful dogs, Bill and Tom are waiting for me at the mile 20 aid station. I thought they’d go ahead but Bill was chatting it up with one of the volunteers and Tom was eating orange slices that looked like lemons; no orange on them at all. They were completely yellow. But, they did taste like oranges and they were tasty oranges. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjho692f5Yk4BZmt4QzI2L1OufGIHV4Q4jjlNoutqEjIidYNJKZMHw_T_V0ssBRQQ2aGxI1k7j0zwOBXyQVleCObycZfDKRZL8LnkOnSGZgTYa79j_741K0UfnqeFYoHcS8_vK_/s1600/image10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjho692f5Yk4BZmt4QzI2L1OufGIHV4Q4jjlNoutqEjIidYNJKZMHw_T_V0ssBRQQ2aGxI1k7j0zwOBXyQVleCObycZfDKRZL8LnkOnSGZgTYa79j_741K0UfnqeFYoHcS8_vK_/s1600/image10.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unknown runner with the LaSal Mountain's in the background.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">All three of us left the aid station together but I told Bill and Tom that I was quitting at mile 23 when I got to the finish line. I was not going to the last 3 mile loop. With his bum knee, Bill said he’d do that same so Tom left us behind and charged onward to complete the full Monty, er marathon. Bill and I walked the last 2 miles above the Colorado river until we got to the finish area where we turned in our bibs, found Erin and Shelly, got some soup and waited for Tom. By this time, Erin and Shelly had been waiting four hours and Erin was a little sun burned. I felt bad they so long rather than driving back to the hotel to shower but how were they to know how darn slow I was going to be? I must have held Bill and Tom up by at least an hour or more. Runners are a loyal bread of human. Tom returned from the loop, made the steep ascent and crossed the finish line in 7:30. Well done, Dudley!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZCQH3tmpYjc9-xEvaFLUV3_yMDnStv_zVIJbv0oIJEsQ3AllyzabWmxAkh-bx6VJdD-BwTbWDZ5qy4qR0BJCg0a9y7Xd9lWyW4ziTuhwwzHf7qYYOVsn0M6uLWNzpB7JzR2So/s1600/IMG_1406.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZCQH3tmpYjc9-xEvaFLUV3_yMDnStv_zVIJbv0oIJEsQ3AllyzabWmxAkh-bx6VJdD-BwTbWDZ5qy4qR0BJCg0a9y7Xd9lWyW4ziTuhwwzHf7qYYOVsn0M6uLWNzpB7JzR2So/s1600/IMG_1406.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Tom climbing to the finish line that is just to the right of the picture.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO73Jo58AmRYKgc3w7WToBzFTHABfkI-L1zGfRFOVjrSuE2Go5V7Q466qlXbJxSViCeBWzu5di00arNif9IqgqLIIEG0YbF_RFaeKoLyPzWYPxxnawBYb2SPlHdpHqCaIQgzuv/s1600/IMG_1407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO73Jo58AmRYKgc3w7WToBzFTHABfkI-L1zGfRFOVjrSuE2Go5V7Q466qlXbJxSViCeBWzu5di00arNif9IqgqLIIEG0YbF_RFaeKoLyPzWYPxxnawBYb2SPlHdpHqCaIQgzuv/s1600/IMG_1407.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We drove back to the Hampton where Bill showered and hit the road for home around 5:00 pm. Erin and I drove to the (not so super) Super 8, checked in, showered and met Tom and Shelly for dinner. I had a buffalo burger and sweet potato fries. Perfect. We wanted to buy a Moab T-shirt we would actually wear but all the stores were closed by the time were done eating. We did stop for some frozen yogurt before returning to the (still not so super) Super 8 and a super friendly front desk manager, I’ll call him Cam, who told us about breakfast in the morning. “It’s Continental but it’s yummy.” When I stopped by later that evening to pick up an iron he responded, “Dressing up, eh?” None of your business, Mr. Yummy. I took a couple Tylenol PM and one more at 1:00 am and slept very well, thank-you very much.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWAY1JN5uteg6TkSmHn5c9gS69Wpl_KgWSL_G0WBIuPyvzGHTS7Kwd91wHnSRp_LLD0akU2C83L84Fvt-d-nZruHkZ7RZoTig26x_kjVHOBukgrZ_FAVHbdPmkYRlrMuwR1s8O/s1600/image3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWAY1JN5uteg6TkSmHn5c9gS69Wpl_KgWSL_G0WBIuPyvzGHTS7Kwd91wHnSRp_LLD0akU2C83L84Fvt-d-nZruHkZ7RZoTig26x_kjVHOBukgrZ_FAVHbdPmkYRlrMuwR1s8O/s1600/image3.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unknown runners. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Because I turned left I saw beautiful scenery and learned my brothers are more mountain goats than I’ll ever be but they are very loyal goats. I learned Erin and Shelly were wise women to sign up for the half marathon. And they too, are very loyal wise women. I learned that on long runs, it’s important to run with someone who is loyal to you whether it be brothers, sisters, daughters, dogs or even goats. I also learned, or relearned, that sometimes you do thing for the ‘association’ and good association—in a car, in a restaurant, and particularly on the trail—can make rough times most enjoyable.</span></div>
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Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-23261663978762275152014-08-20T11:53:00.001-05:002014-08-20T11:53:35.710-05:00My Morning Run. One Less Toe Nail.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Yesterday my left Morton's toenail fell off, only two and a half weeks after the Grand Island Trail Marathon. That's a record for me. Usually my toenails hang in there for months post-marathon. This one, however, was surrounded by a color blood blister which must have hastened the demise of the nail. But, alas, no pictures of my nail-less toe. Instead, here are two pictures from my seven mile morning run on the Panther Trail with my new Merrell All Out Fuse shoes. I'm still getting used to the 6 mm heal-to-toe drop but I love the roomy toe box and their light 8 ounces weight.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvt_iY5UNoyd34iNLoWRmH-dMoEh27EBoXKy6PpkcGu3l2o1buwGEjwjjV2NQJ5RlGgvua_oYbrxubNTnXr24Z7GmVVMSM7UrzEnOVmZx71yJarfQU_ycsTfX-PpPn68xemgQS/s1600/IMG_1310.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvt_iY5UNoyd34iNLoWRmH-dMoEh27EBoXKy6PpkcGu3l2o1buwGEjwjjV2NQJ5RlGgvua_oYbrxubNTnXr24Z7GmVVMSM7UrzEnOVmZx71yJarfQU_ycsTfX-PpPn68xemgQS/s1600/IMG_1310.JPG" height="191" width="320" /></a></div>
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Clouds over the intramural fields</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicqnsJjFVdXMtT4tLR7AZxWlzuwOe3nmkJybMH3vG8TU1xAdVTgyQugIyMGDrrIU-KB4QaJBDZARgcxwdYBex-cvzuiHgYaCp0tkFH1YzzcAEHvtqVFRIK9Blg3KrsWn1ezQSZ/s1600/IMG_1311.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicqnsJjFVdXMtT4tLR7AZxWlzuwOe3nmkJybMH3vG8TU1xAdVTgyQugIyMGDrrIU-KB4QaJBDZARgcxwdYBex-cvzuiHgYaCp0tkFH1YzzcAEHvtqVFRIK9Blg3KrsWn1ezQSZ/s1600/IMG_1311.JPG" height="196" width="320" /></a></div>
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Same clouds over the soccer and baseball fields. </div>
<br />Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-18061814180233810602014-08-18T20:52:00.001-05:002014-08-18T20:52:51.599-05:00Grand Island Trail Marathon, update.I found these two pictures on the Great Lakes Endurance website.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivgNA9rmMJppubw6zhZmOSCJkzf-nAk_tzskA8HJm-kz5DQCZMuwJVBVaFAaiYdlkFt-ZYEf7bzJKjly9I4_zSjaCPxY1D9rdzbJetwf_h9oyKzpjjhrV3AK-nDOEvMJO6mDGz/s1600/Grand+Island+Trail+Marathon+001.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivgNA9rmMJppubw6zhZmOSCJkzf-nAk_tzskA8HJm-kz5DQCZMuwJVBVaFAaiYdlkFt-ZYEf7bzJKjly9I4_zSjaCPxY1D9rdzbJetwf_h9oyKzpjjhrV3AK-nDOEvMJO6mDGz/s1600/Grand+Island+Trail+Marathon+001.png" height="106" width="320" /></a></div>
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This was taken of runners along the beach section of the Grand Island Trail Marathon. I'm the fourth person in the back.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZHqUDy20W6pC-moV8wUcJmCEqVx9ZaXIAmyLKPJW_d43817OPoUERH8nfckZDPjfVXWTUx1rNdD4Cz2b_DC0G0gnCwag7x4F9wJ7puyaUyFCTHSE03YBVeE_HgAfIvZ5IsRP/s1600/Grand+Island+Marathon+002.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZHqUDy20W6pC-moV8wUcJmCEqVx9ZaXIAmyLKPJW_d43817OPoUERH8nfckZDPjfVXWTUx1rNdD4Cz2b_DC0G0gnCwag7x4F9wJ7puyaUyFCTHSE03YBVeE_HgAfIvZ5IsRP/s1600/Grand+Island+Marathon+002.png" height="106" width="320" /></a></div>
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Here I'm the second person. You can see how the slope of the beach in the pictures. It was a fun section but I was glad to exit off the sloped sand and back on the trail.</div>
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<br />Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-32857112195150172842014-07-28T19:49:00.000-05:002014-07-29T11:29:50.534-05:00Grand Island Trail Marathon, July 2014. (#30)<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>When</b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">: July 26, 2014</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><b>Who</b>: Lesa and Me</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Recall</b>: Can't see the lake for the trees but who cares?</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 22px;"><b>Overall</b>: Great weekend with a fantastic marathon in the middle.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Rating</b>: 5</span></span><span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">/5 carbs </span></span></span></span><br />
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Lesa is such a good sport. She not only puts up with my running shenanigans but is the best support team ever. This year she let me celebrate my 30th marathon by driving with me all the way up to Munising in the upper peninsula of Michigan to run the Grand Island Trail Marathon. I've had my eye on this marathon for a few years finally this year it all worked out. </div>
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After work on Thursday we drove 4 hours to Milwaukee. Along the way we finished a murder mystery audiobook, <i>Still Life </i>by Louise Penny that takes place in rural Canada. I really liked it. </div>
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Friday morning we hoped to go on a Laverne and Shirley tour of Milwaukee but it was German Days and we didn't want to fight the crowds. So we headed northward with a new audiobook, <i>The Crossing Places</i> by Ellys Griffiths, a murder mystery set in Scotland. We can't help notice that the corn of Illinois is replaced by tall trees in Wisconsin. As we drive through Green Bay, Lesa understands why they love their Packers so much—there's nothing else to get excited about in Green Bay. The forest become thicker in Michigan where we stopped for lunch here...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSJvYlImc6VmL4NDhp4BFcTEab9nPxUco0Lt9EK0kAs0zxKKoMNn5hueH8s3oIHBhHQmMUZMiI88P2btk9CGwKKYP7aRv3eeIt6Gegp5CFiD4eGcGuFkfB6APcB_xiHilL5gU4/s1600/IMG_1223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSJvYlImc6VmL4NDhp4BFcTEab9nPxUco0Lt9EK0kAs0zxKKoMNn5hueH8s3oIHBhHQmMUZMiI88P2btk9CGwKKYP7aRv3eeIt6Gegp5CFiD4eGcGuFkfB6APcB_xiHilL5gU4/s1600/IMG_1223.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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...the Swedish Pantry in downtown Escananba, MI.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh-GH53LntUPPV_kLxWvj0q0CxrGrvd7OAKPdGM8JDmRUk3fnpWijkfw2s4LYLqolGsupWFF-HAKRbpQ2tAnllifX2fmmnn9zUxgqHQYIwWkgBtANXbnXFqCeuxPO1qPV-8-YY/s1600/IMG_1222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh-GH53LntUPPV_kLxWvj0q0CxrGrvd7OAKPdGM8JDmRUk3fnpWijkfw2s4LYLqolGsupWFF-HAKRbpQ2tAnllifX2fmmnn9zUxgqHQYIwWkgBtANXbnXFqCeuxPO1qPV-8-YY/s1600/IMG_1222.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Our course I carbohydrate loading with Swedish pancakes covered in spiced peaches. Lesa had the same but covered in strawberries. Inside, the restaurant's walls are covered in nicknacks. Very similar to a B and B in <i>Still Life</i>. We opted not for a new clock or an 'Uff Da" tile but we did purchase a couple of huge cookies.</div>
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"No, thank-you Escanaba!"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicZW49Enb0yvGu_NSsULXuhk0bwjvtvMd1iSBK1ZTn8cSrep85sPXg9iLabnLRDoadxJwyOreXPQmSiR7gRrZ2WbaDRaL-KEChdJb6Bb0xPLSoEPdPeFcbBtCdIpDQWeBXaYke/s1600/IMG_1226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicZW49Enb0yvGu_NSsULXuhk0bwjvtvMd1iSBK1ZTn8cSrep85sPXg9iLabnLRDoadxJwyOreXPQmSiR7gRrZ2WbaDRaL-KEChdJb6Bb0xPLSoEPdPeFcbBtCdIpDQWeBXaYke/s1600/IMG_1226.JPG" height="183" width="320" /></a></div>
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Little Bay de Noc at the upper end of Lake Michigan</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi44MuLIxi4RqjxBURNUZSdn2BaFS3HyM0t-p5gbrAk3pNjRMB8bCqFaeuPIhHpdlEHqFjpEi48ToLj_S8kkVJ1R6vTOWjluno3qtIkPhY7M__4BgJiyI70-VUenUpsJisEeWwq/s1600/IMG_1228.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi44MuLIxi4RqjxBURNUZSdn2BaFS3HyM0t-p5gbrAk3pNjRMB8bCqFaeuPIhHpdlEHqFjpEi48ToLj_S8kkVJ1R6vTOWjluno3qtIkPhY7M__4BgJiyI70-VUenUpsJisEeWwq/s1600/IMG_1228.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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We stopped for fuel and Lesa found the perfect yooper headwear. Yooper = in reference to things of the upper (i.e. UPer) peninsula of Michigan. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxI3f0KBVhxeQ786UPGwm5vX5pKZ89GA41hITMrT-6cXSThnAiNo8lgwAGy1iFAdkVWdBsHai0h5BFdC-fpuK4SstP8uFdaazU53hf5ZNmtWR1vzfydxAb7OCzMgI_UFSqWbQ6/s1600/IMG_1229.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxI3f0KBVhxeQ786UPGwm5vX5pKZ89GA41hITMrT-6cXSThnAiNo8lgwAGy1iFAdkVWdBsHai0h5BFdC-fpuK4SstP8uFdaazU53hf5ZNmtWR1vzfydxAb7OCzMgI_UFSqWbQ6/s1600/IMG_1229.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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First speeding ticket in over 25 years. Uff da. Oh well, my heart is lightened as we pull into beautiful (?) Munising, home to one paper mill and 2000 people. We check intothe Holiday Inn Express which is only a quarter mile from the ferry to Grand Island. It's also were I pick up my race packet and Lesa buys tickets for the ferry and bus ride on the island that take spectators to three of the aid stations during the marathon. Not wanting to waste a moment of time in the Yooper, we set out to explore the streets of Munising and after two gift shoppes and one bookstores, we're done. We've seen it all. We pick up our tickets and the lady at the counter gushes over how pretty Lesa looks. Yes, I won the beautiful wife lottery!<br />
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Luckily, with nothing left to see in town, it's time to board our three hour tour (Lesa points out that the S.S. Minnow was schedule for a three hour tour as well) of Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. Amongst our group are no obvious millionaires with or without a wife, no movie starts, but there is a professor of Kinesiology (me) who will be of no use if we shipwreck.<br />
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The cruise is nice and peaceful. The boat is slow, 13 mph, but what else are we going to do in Munising? Here are some of the pictures we took from the cruise.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx8WWQ26E4fUn32ml3R9Tuw0SnElkb9_Y_6c5mbD4AQTNCTR6tmNCf6TSxcXj3NM187Kld49jYumvUNG5gVtnTN27vRGfFWuzR-QY_9yisvI9krcWilu7jFATldx2zn9ol0oDS/s1600/IMG_0587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx8WWQ26E4fUn32ml3R9Tuw0SnElkb9_Y_6c5mbD4AQTNCTR6tmNCf6TSxcXj3NM187Kld49jYumvUNG5gVtnTN27vRGfFWuzR-QY_9yisvI9krcWilu7jFATldx2zn9ol0oDS/s1600/IMG_0587.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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It's hard to see but right in the middle of the tree line is our hotel. Unfortunately we didn't have a lake view room but it's better than the Super 8 which is where we were going to stay until a room became available at the Holiday Inn. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihumE3BXwL_2jC2RcBUgUAZd25KR8DWFq23Os2FnLTmBfSbZ0-Edxh2rT7uNsofNel2jWWff3raX6JCwDR9JDnTZgRc1RcCh0d0zFD96hFfBBGXf54QlslysmHPgIhEhMH1Rju/s1600/IMG_1232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihumE3BXwL_2jC2RcBUgUAZd25KR8DWFq23Os2FnLTmBfSbZ0-Edxh2rT7uNsofNel2jWWff3raX6JCwDR9JDnTZgRc1RcCh0d0zFD96hFfBBGXf54QlslysmHPgIhEhMH1Rju/s1600/IMG_1232.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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On the left is Munising, MI and the land to the right is Grand Island. The ferry across to Grand Island is only half a mile.</div>
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The East Channel Lighthouse on Grand Island. Constructed in 1868 and restored in 2000. I think it's privately own by the group of people who have houses on the island.</div>
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I got this picture off the internet.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbvFPTdz6s2CzKl3Rq19uqHAd6_ca6eQUGMH82mWW0nn9_uOp4bu-QAVHKuj5ZaHAK0DGYWeouXEduuiFIhRd6o0QDGQSvc9ytR8gjtV5rV7rJDzU9AYJTViXTRd2cA-kxW-aA/s1600/IMG_0594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbvFPTdz6s2CzKl3Rq19uqHAd6_ca6eQUGMH82mWW0nn9_uOp4bu-QAVHKuj5ZaHAK0DGYWeouXEduuiFIhRd6o0QDGQSvc9ytR8gjtV5rV7rJDzU9AYJTViXTRd2cA-kxW-aA/s1600/IMG_0594.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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The first major feature along Picture Rocks National Lakeshore is Miners Castle. There's a e walked out to it on Saturday after the marathon. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGR9BXCWksBFAabVUGdSUAwtgaNSl05jHis_CDKo6hPlg-DTadU7veeqLymRNWxkEiMMhPJhQo8OZS8e__gLPj1TYMUaVY40wF8ISWW7ruQMKOmsTGX41dMjCgNt4ojlkPSAGA/s1600/IMG_0600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGR9BXCWksBFAabVUGdSUAwtgaNSl05jHis_CDKo6hPlg-DTadU7veeqLymRNWxkEiMMhPJhQo8OZS8e__gLPj1TYMUaVY40wF8ISWW7ruQMKOmsTGX41dMjCgNt4ojlkPSAGA/s1600/IMG_0600.JPG" height="225" width="320" /></a></div>
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Lovers Leap but don't try it. The water underneath is only a few feet deep.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglVO8mM4txSPP8TIEs_VJCnjj00vuA2jLgP8gloLazqa7fzwP2rGlDJmKH3nbnkTj7f2R3eBnqb5bZ2RUU8gUfXzeujWgeKEFuQmfS6yc_rngsQ3ZpJh007k3hnyMDDPrd4XUv/s1600/IMG_0601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglVO8mM4txSPP8TIEs_VJCnjj00vuA2jLgP8gloLazqa7fzwP2rGlDJmKH3nbnkTj7f2R3eBnqb5bZ2RUU8gUfXzeujWgeKEFuQmfS6yc_rngsQ3ZpJh007k3hnyMDDPrd4XUv/s1600/IMG_0601.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Rainbow Cave. Not as impressive as Rainbow Arch but what is?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1-k9jnS8qQesNcQUolIVyMj8qE2Pa0hYsdoEI9I2Y0bmdQ7sWHKYth4P7Q9oEgv0n-UwJrHDRhKdrrBnZgsFEOyEyORgxlGnjEbCpgr_1JXPyaMlL6gEJ3trmDBdefRmSidg/s1600/IMG_0603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1-k9jnS8qQesNcQUolIVyMj8qE2Pa0hYsdoEI9I2Y0bmdQ7sWHKYth4P7Q9oEgv0n-UwJrHDRhKdrrBnZgsFEOyEyORgxlGnjEbCpgr_1JXPyaMlL6gEJ3trmDBdefRmSidg/s1600/IMG_0603.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Pretty sunset</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7hu4ZgN4PFDAXh2U5-ER79T5sx83JA7ZhDEhOYRINRfMYGUm6CIGBmrzoGo2_NegC5zJuhfKiDeJfXHHtUngc-PRsQ_4wi6mrKqkqdmiUkZDhMAM7y5Aw7iSXjmQN9HdfoLAo/s1600/IMG_0604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7hu4ZgN4PFDAXh2U5-ER79T5sx83JA7ZhDEhOYRINRfMYGUm6CIGBmrzoGo2_NegC5zJuhfKiDeJfXHHtUngc-PRsQ_4wi6mrKqkqdmiUkZDhMAM7y5Aw7iSXjmQN9HdfoLAo/s1600/IMG_0604.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></div>
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Grand Portal</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX3RSpHUBWtOT164zuhj3SP0okg7GwW1ncSyiqi2f22WrMCCfQ_MpVVtUnwkg6LfRbNBgVm1TneggB-FNa-tdTDcUcBbYEw7aznnZvZSegNdgFQe8UneexG5yDqAUBl6mX3ATb/s1600/IMG_0605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX3RSpHUBWtOT164zuhj3SP0okg7GwW1ncSyiqi2f22WrMCCfQ_MpVVtUnwkg6LfRbNBgVm1TneggB-FNa-tdTDcUcBbYEw7aznnZvZSegNdgFQe8UneexG5yDqAUBl6mX3ATb/s1600/IMG_0605.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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With the surrounding earth washed away, a large root systems (left of the tree) extends over the water to the shore to keep the tree alive. Amazing.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicxP-qV5fpgmezsVkUdcIw9bbO_oOzQ23JUkoVM4gKuF7e7l3TUCfsJoz5bXfAp4kYDRXzIzn1oT98S39UJMA_tx4RGHpbgFLwh1jv2G9pS3YCkg6J4i9IB2HbdtJ3vlI50AFB/s1600/IMG_0607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicxP-qV5fpgmezsVkUdcIw9bbO_oOzQ23JUkoVM4gKuF7e7l3TUCfsJoz5bXfAp4kYDRXzIzn1oT98S39UJMA_tx4RGHpbgFLwh1jv2G9pS3YCkg6J4i9IB2HbdtJ3vlI50AFB/s1600/IMG_0607.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwJubUyseG2OCwXavUVa6D75abQGMYARv59y_1g9IVX_SbyOm_f9Jk_MIFPDlJj2pKmE2zclKRNBVi0aTQNkusaD3xU10ZpnvwwJnps7DNaTxgDbCCRO1FLbC09lcVwgjdAbvB/s1600/chapel-rock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwJubUyseG2OCwXavUVa6D75abQGMYARv59y_1g9IVX_SbyOm_f9Jk_MIFPDlJj2pKmE2zclKRNBVi0aTQNkusaD3xU10ZpnvwwJnps7DNaTxgDbCCRO1FLbC09lcVwgjdAbvB/s1600/chapel-rock.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Also found online, this picture shows the tree and it's lifeline root from the shore.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4mVWviopoTl_il33Z7I9F5U2EwDv-2ZNtojacjC8dES-6VKHL1WsG9LXzzVG_qgXUh9bBWNSXR6hHNzQJIryj20fopBzl9aZN7xY1xMnOWv6FLfT13yWZrfmvhNuPDC3KK_ML/s1600/IMG_0609.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4mVWviopoTl_il33Z7I9F5U2EwDv-2ZNtojacjC8dES-6VKHL1WsG9LXzzVG_qgXUh9bBWNSXR6hHNzQJIryj20fopBzl9aZN7xY1xMnOWv6FLfT13yWZrfmvhNuPDC3KK_ML/s1600/IMG_0609.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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The sandstone that makes ups the pictured rocks extends from the UP south but underground into KY and back up into the LP. Glaciers may be slow but they can do amazing things.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1HQ-_3wy3D3yNmWPiplEaSKVf0L6tHB4Bn8pO53aBz_sTR2xk_XIgUWUk4201NHadS-bQMiPZAFISdUWdwxKqiJQ0dMLVmor8zYkhJ7VjNRqyaW0LlkMbygkPN8_AlSs7SsC5/s1600/IMG_0614.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1HQ-_3wy3D3yNmWPiplEaSKVf0L6tHB4Bn8pO53aBz_sTR2xk_XIgUWUk4201NHadS-bQMiPZAFISdUWdwxKqiJQ0dMLVmor8zYkhJ7VjNRqyaW0LlkMbygkPN8_AlSs7SsC5/s1600/IMG_0614.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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A tree hanging on for dear life. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKw0zE177lCyaVPihOl63K6MRBwuLjiJ7eUTPhcv2C_KHzHKPDUJ04b6vJirH6Ri1bOY0PxpXef3ASLGjHBnNijj3CSbsnBs-Z2mXCKB_NFTeAM3zOWjperZ9SOwBclj6v5sEA/s1600/IMG_1242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKw0zE177lCyaVPihOl63K6MRBwuLjiJ7eUTPhcv2C_KHzHKPDUJ04b6vJirH6Ri1bOY0PxpXef3ASLGjHBnNijj3CSbsnBs-Z2mXCKB_NFTeAM3zOWjperZ9SOwBclj6v5sEA/s1600/IMG_1242.JPG" height="200" width="320" /></a></div>
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Sunset on Lake Superior</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSux0BzJw6bAU2zy-LjoqYsW-soP4mLLjsYZtiBPol0ZI6SBIXIJTwjAnGlul2-8zvpJ-6cEJ4K6qgxqhfx6IkMJTlJrtPLq8hAS2YErMrxrwZcID4vWWtwb_QgZ08YiQpqYO_/s1600/IMG_0617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSux0BzJw6bAU2zy-LjoqYsW-soP4mLLjsYZtiBPol0ZI6SBIXIJTwjAnGlul2-8zvpJ-6cEJ4K6qgxqhfx6IkMJTlJrtPLq8hAS2YErMrxrwZcID4vWWtwb_QgZ08YiQpqYO_/s1600/IMG_0617.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Kind of like Lake Powell but with trees.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOOrY9wlvrMKkorGH_kL9jkDlk0VhW3xNhQt8pkRp2ifChIA_dxW6PUj18o1Cl-Bm_YhTOCjbi4w0gRsAzsm0EeWeAhGumVgPsF0wPClvzYbE6cYb_HbK4b53lMMMiqf_J54Gt/s1600/IMG_1245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOOrY9wlvrMKkorGH_kL9jkDlk0VhW3xNhQt8pkRp2ifChIA_dxW6PUj18o1Cl-Bm_YhTOCjbi4w0gRsAzsm0EeWeAhGumVgPsF0wPClvzYbE6cYb_HbK4b53lMMMiqf_J54Gt/s1600/IMG_1245.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Enil2P7Pv4PKSycJS4VlHRGmMxzSYuq-FQ-Oax6_0BTn4Wy-lWLO7YDMrN4m0y5ivA-T3B_ixA4AxKuiesKR1o2cisopIwX_DrDTwy0pS583K_ezhgMdDVuzxtlgjkkHdnyu/s1600/Rainbow+Munising.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Enil2P7Pv4PKSycJS4VlHRGmMxzSYuq-FQ-Oax6_0BTn4Wy-lWLO7YDMrN4m0y5ivA-T3B_ixA4AxKuiesKR1o2cisopIwX_DrDTwy0pS583K_ezhgMdDVuzxtlgjkkHdnyu/s1600/Rainbow+Munising.png" height="175" width="320" /></a></div>
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Unfortunately, the batteries in both our phones died near the end of the cruise so we didn't get pictures of an amazing double rainbow. It was the most vibrant, brilliant rainbow I have ever seen and will never forget. These two rainbow pictures were taken in the Munising area and look like the rainbow we saw over the Pictured Rocks.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO_H8nXjuI9RmxONtyG7hu2MIJXWAkoWdPSzetGgsT9ufCGQ_AliMbAoNjvoV5DXQeWGZ-8FpRC_VW5Z8WbqU5Gg4ry1-ghasCWEup-BAbVBSAirLN-Ouap3o7YQodLRWpEOVA/s1600/600x450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO_H8nXjuI9RmxONtyG7hu2MIJXWAkoWdPSzetGgsT9ufCGQ_AliMbAoNjvoV5DXQeWGZ-8FpRC_VW5Z8WbqU5Gg4ry1-ghasCWEup-BAbVBSAirLN-Ouap3o7YQodLRWpEOVA/s1600/600x450.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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The cruise ended at 9:00 pm so we just grabbed Subway sandwiches and ate them in the room while watching Modern Family reruns. I also ate my huge cookie from the Swedish Pantry.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpp5DZqFlhFBG99aIiXC_u3WFXEtqAA9mrgEJoIqkfGHV6xFSgMo90dZQCttHQsSzfMb1F2m5Ia3VSGGhArcB1C_tliP6ZXwMMJrMw-Gn9Fd-8w824h04tXvpHL4b6aG2DxAMc/s1600/IMG_1247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpp5DZqFlhFBG99aIiXC_u3WFXEtqAA9mrgEJoIqkfGHV6xFSgMo90dZQCttHQsSzfMb1F2m5Ia3VSGGhArcB1C_tliP6ZXwMMJrMw-Gn9Fd-8w824h04tXvpHL4b6aG2DxAMc/s1600/IMG_1247.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Ready to roll. The ticket stabled in the upper left corner is for the ferry ride. </div>
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We woke up at 4:00 am just because. I caught the 5:25 bus from the hotel to the ferry. I met runners from Michigan (of course), California and Arizona. Our ferry got us to the island only a few minutes before the start time of 6:00 but the race director gave us time to get ready. Lesa would catch a later bus and meet hopefully see me at one of the three aid stations on their route.</div>
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I was in the 6:00 start group, or the group for "special" (i.e. slow runners). We had a 1 hour head start on the real runners and half marathoner. There were about 160 total marathon runners and we must have been about 50 or 70 in our group. The first few pictures below were taken "on the run". </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5pU_0AFgrELegjdEs4lVol2xjl0sqIMXBCm6sy_MBAfzP6hrW79-cAXRiKXNpnWUMc-2s9EEv2OB0W6OajB7aQ6ZZ-UbHWGNBxgcyUlgUl56EjSF6DaOorZdF2o-cujEfLopO/s1600/IMG_1248.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5pU_0AFgrELegjdEs4lVol2xjl0sqIMXBCm6sy_MBAfzP6hrW79-cAXRiKXNpnWUMc-2s9EEv2OB0W6OajB7aQ6ZZ-UbHWGNBxgcyUlgUl56EjSF6DaOorZdF2o-cujEfLopO/s1600/IMG_1248.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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The course started on dirt roads like this...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhITFDC76pqE-SPiQ_mAHXMA3D6RzAYS5T8buS0QpyE5B_SvHSDDNy0QThBjBaPXWVNv_446NhUJQh_mJ9jmO9-2hWD-WEbm9tJsMYQUOby5qI0TAi5IZ5D30T7l-yCwIIkhtub/s1600/IMG_1249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhITFDC76pqE-SPiQ_mAHXMA3D6RzAYS5T8buS0QpyE5B_SvHSDDNy0QThBjBaPXWVNv_446NhUJQh_mJ9jmO9-2hWD-WEbm9tJsMYQUOby5qI0TAi5IZ5D30T7l-yCwIIkhtub/s1600/IMG_1249.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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...and this...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6l7KtDvnQgpwS-GREg9mEkPtlBIjxyTlgFk2N1HKeiQFcLfOTuPBSeWjna780vs9j_BmO7xF5Tz-197F5N8MPo5GfzHekzOUfpmYWeVNYwdTW9rGVFvxfTnluE1qvdMHmpAc7/s1600/IMG_1250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6l7KtDvnQgpwS-GREg9mEkPtlBIjxyTlgFk2N1HKeiQFcLfOTuPBSeWjna780vs9j_BmO7xF5Tz-197F5N8MPo5GfzHekzOUfpmYWeVNYwdTW9rGVFvxfTnluE1qvdMHmpAc7/s1600/IMG_1250.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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...but most of it was on old double lane roads that were more like two lane running trails. This was taken on the out and back section on the thumb of the island to Muskrat point. The entire section was a canopy of trees. I never did see the lake on this section. In fact, I didn't see the lake much at all except for the beach portion (below) which surprised me. I expect more lake vistas but the shady course was cool (literally) and beautiful.</div>
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The most surprising thing was that the volunteers at the aid stations were decked out from head to tow in anti-mosquito gear. Poor Lesa's ankles are proof that they were thick. All aid stations were stocked with bug repellant. </div>
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All runners were required to carry a water bottle since there were no cups at the aid stations. Only pictures full of Hammer HEED ready to refill your bottle. And, it was nice to leave the aid station without the trail lined with discarded cups. In fact, littering was an automatic disqualification. <i>Reconnect with the earth</i>, is the marathons motto. </div>
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After the first aid station I picked up the pace. My goal was to reach the mile 16 or 17 aid station by 9:00 before Lesa and the other spectators who have to leave. I thought this was the only aid station they would be at so I hated for Lesa to endure the long waits and not be able to see me on the course. Well, my legs felt good so I was optimistic. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN0qVvik6Mt8psh9qH1ScS0OLgQ8H8EDd9dfaGZp740OjSSLJT3SURNvarkEfKMxLRmxZzYvAGe2AL-JEJRlHBGl0cnEuGaVcwEnlV3ic-BYHXV3W72uNuVo5BtWIVJ6-TyVrq/s1600/IMG_1251.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN0qVvik6Mt8psh9qH1ScS0OLgQ8H8EDd9dfaGZp740OjSSLJT3SURNvarkEfKMxLRmxZzYvAGe2AL-JEJRlHBGl0cnEuGaVcwEnlV3ic-BYHXV3W72uNuVo5BtWIVJ6-TyVrq/s1600/IMG_1251.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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A ranger offered to take my picture with Trout Bay in background. I look like I'm hoping he just doesn't drop my phone in the sand. Sand? Yes, we ran on sand. In the next picture you can see the trail leading on to the beach and then a view of the beach we ran on. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5rLMDmg7P4JhgXhp-mqCcbRp65Bk0VzZCXzd5H614X_Fp_uA56Gkunr5sIofETK8EtC_7jLtipNpdLW7X6WIg6fyiv-vkN0r_dJKtu08p1oyjfvi22JsdFt-bNz8TdmkAjtYw/s1600/IMG_1257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5rLMDmg7P4JhgXhp-mqCcbRp65Bk0VzZCXzd5H614X_Fp_uA56Gkunr5sIofETK8EtC_7jLtipNpdLW7X6WIg6fyiv-vkN0r_dJKtu08p1oyjfvi22JsdFt-bNz8TdmkAjtYw/s1600/IMG_1257.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Trout Bay</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh55Iz6sC9uTiPoRk6c0s-hNpR6vd3bt_8dWCKpbAvPC3HZs4fJ6o3Cz2koKtVEbe_Bi1gGixQpr_7H-8ZSrSUaui1SEZfjt51FGN8ZPO1U6HDrgnmQQ4OJ7kwCU7U6y-8oBaGl/s1600/IMG_1258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh55Iz6sC9uTiPoRk6c0s-hNpR6vd3bt_8dWCKpbAvPC3HZs4fJ6o3Cz2koKtVEbe_Bi1gGixQpr_7H-8ZSrSUaui1SEZfjt51FGN8ZPO1U6HDrgnmQQ4OJ7kwCU7U6y-8oBaGl/s1600/IMG_1258.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Fortunately the sand was wet and packed making it somewhat easy to run on except for the nasty slope to the right. The flattest part was near the water so I did get my feet a little wet but it wasn't too bad. I'm just glad it was only for half a mile or less.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdjqqYTAf-z0YJNdCQD2NyCyVOEb8U9JlyMcf7rE69vWTSvgNyR2rjJdDTGpnZfLrwI-o_BLS48H1GoVWaCoTfZ1rJC4k58WIE-tYJbJZ_27V7s8z-1uXdwQVz-1qS6OwWpo2F/s1600/Grand-Island_Great-Lakes-Endurance_Donna-Shields.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdjqqYTAf-z0YJNdCQD2NyCyVOEb8U9JlyMcf7rE69vWTSvgNyR2rjJdDTGpnZfLrwI-o_BLS48H1GoVWaCoTfZ1rJC4k58WIE-tYJbJZ_27V7s8z-1uXdwQVz-1qS6OwWpo2F/s1600/Grand-Island_Great-Lakes-Endurance_Donna-Shields.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
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This borrowed picture from the web is what running that section of beach is like during sunnier times. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJDPixXCcWBM-ipytpw5Kn3aj6l63m1eYjcRVyYXuFUZyCcB3SoGpaPuRr5iZxcoAC8A5_urLrqf6TDRLEX4wgRaWAzDox8n8wpiD1Ie0DyzwMFxQ4MiRPPl1JQcezIVqyQrhN/s1600/IMG_0624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJDPixXCcWBM-ipytpw5Kn3aj6l63m1eYjcRVyYXuFUZyCcB3SoGpaPuRr5iZxcoAC8A5_urLrqf6TDRLEX4wgRaWAzDox8n8wpiD1Ie0DyzwMFxQ4MiRPPl1JQcezIVqyQrhN/s1600/IMG_0624.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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While waiting for me, Lesa snapped some gorgeous pictures around the island.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWfvEQyuMCxLQnF3q4NHS1ZQhGOIDaS7yR0WpRAeZibzQ0FB4Ynx4XU6aCy2qSlKuDxA8WfneR0dUKQY2CJKSAacZM6Zc3p3QESS0o-r0LtYJopJoa95VaYy4WSjtgfst8uw5U/s1600/IMG_0626.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWfvEQyuMCxLQnF3q4NHS1ZQhGOIDaS7yR0WpRAeZibzQ0FB4Ynx4XU6aCy2qSlKuDxA8WfneR0dUKQY2CJKSAacZM6Zc3p3QESS0o-r0LtYJopJoa95VaYy4WSjtgfst8uw5U/s1600/IMG_0626.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Lake Superior is cold even in July but Lesa was willing to get her feet wet. I'm sure while she was waiting she was singing, <i>The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald</i> by Gordon Lightfoot...or not. Assuming she was, I'm going to throw some lyrics underneath the following pictures. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCLQ8w8WzalC7bw3BNm1ndZHIKdbxZHxLtUlIuGv49EknRXJGK2k-jNzUJzNrTYxVOMQczR7Tz1lXP-TiEKpaUtS0qRXc_DDuHuMy2Z7GZUl2uXgEt5yUXaFi-kJ45Y40SGzo5/s1600/IMG_0627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCLQ8w8WzalC7bw3BNm1ndZHIKdbxZHxLtUlIuGv49EknRXJGK2k-jNzUJzNrTYxVOMQczR7Tz1lXP-TiEKpaUtS0qRXc_DDuHuMy2Z7GZUl2uXgEt5yUXaFi-kJ45Y40SGzo5/s1600/IMG_0627.JPG" height="172" width="320" /></a></div>
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"the big lake they call Gitche Gumee"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF6mYg40VfpRO6Ki72U5c9Ovr8pceWxUBsgcx3JvV9L8CMoRDaxy6qxnqx1wtojwhVBUaVYswKJ4PcUkW9u6Nbvewq9b8-YJPIC7FpCpRR_0qDFZsubIVNi7pOKM4uXFF_hPzl/s1600/IMG_0623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF6mYg40VfpRO6Ki72U5c9Ovr8pceWxUBsgcx3JvV9L8CMoRDaxy6qxnqx1wtojwhVBUaVYswKJ4PcUkW9u6Nbvewq9b8-YJPIC7FpCpRR_0qDFZsubIVNi7pOKM4uXFF_hPzl/s1600/IMG_0623.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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"The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay" </div>
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Note: this is not Whitefish bay but there is a Whitefish Point Marathon. Next year?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgZBg1AnFDOCziJx2MscUkGHP_miBFpwoFWOIM-ylvHzvUcpGIhWkhwfBc-6yiMzYd9BuJDjwdXIG-KzawZ7EKkDpA3UadQ1rKD_W4UxGMGYCIHnvwuxvdXq5NSmt_RHjdLcX8/s1600/IMG_0628.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgZBg1AnFDOCziJx2MscUkGHP_miBFpwoFWOIM-ylvHzvUcpGIhWkhwfBc-6yiMzYd9BuJDjwdXIG-KzawZ7EKkDpA3UadQ1rKD_W4UxGMGYCIHnvwuxvdXq5NSmt_RHjdLcX8/s1600/IMG_0628.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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"Superior sings in the rooms of her ice-water mansion"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNKOonseGmxPjrgvafNhtUpcbXRyejkX1fZRbB_BWAaYhIQGLn75ezzJWe5yusN1MXioe-jdKS3O-pydI1b9wHGQqLR1IZLDLouc6IavzPW7Y5nU0LyRh2OufMwVjgFi4rwMIC/s1600/IMG_0618.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNKOonseGmxPjrgvafNhtUpcbXRyejkX1fZRbB_BWAaYhIQGLn75ezzJWe5yusN1MXioe-jdKS3O-pydI1b9wHGQqLR1IZLDLouc6IavzPW7Y5nU0LyRh2OufMwVjgFi4rwMIC/s1600/IMG_0618.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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"The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLMQE_4o7nvlyGlT01IdKbLYbDBVomtzZeDn0I8DiHiS22BrZ_WT4z5jeMAeBoJnuiMYfc7ATcNycjT31RlnDw552SXTXB01GWT7kBW96xH4qVKqY6j23FHzaAmOfF5zlHG8Sh/s1600/IMG_0619.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLMQE_4o7nvlyGlT01IdKbLYbDBVomtzZeDn0I8DiHiS22BrZ_WT4z5jeMAeBoJnuiMYfc7ATcNycjT31RlnDw552SXTXB01GWT7kBW96xH4qVKqY6j23FHzaAmOfF5zlHG8Sh/s1600/IMG_0619.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Finally, I appear at the mile 9 aid station where Lesa is patiently waiting with the rest of the spectators. </div>
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Wait, is that the <i>wreck</i> of the John Dudley Emmett?</div>
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I wasn't expecting to see her at the mile 9 aid station and she was too busy taking pictures to yell at me so I kept pushing forward to get to the mile 17 aid station by 9:00.</div>
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"Yes, I will go slow. You don't need to remind me."</div>
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At mile 12 I was passed by the fist runner from the 7:00 group. At mile 13 I was passed by the second runner from that group. I also started to feel a little pain from second toe on my left foot. It's the longest of the left foot toes. This is the first marathon in a pair of Salomon shoes I bought last fall. It will also be the last. Oh, well. Tally-ho. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi68pPvjh9CZ7hen1GmB0LEnztI9W16l2g6NVSZmr581-XBki-i4OnNzQgu2WW9VQ0yF9pq6pso331dWsx-TcrNM_Jcucq4_kA0OgUD6LysZVht5STOVquQ369J3tXvI9gz8Ei/s1600/IMG_1262.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi68pPvjh9CZ7hen1GmB0LEnztI9W16l2g6NVSZmr581-XBki-i4OnNzQgu2WW9VQ0yF9pq6pso331dWsx-TcrNM_Jcucq4_kA0OgUD6LysZVht5STOVquQ369J3tXvI9gz8Ei/s1600/IMG_1262.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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These are the cliffs the sign above is referring to. Note the clear water below. </div>
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Between miles 4 and 16 the only people passing me were a few of the fast 7:00 runners. My legs felt great and I was close to a 10:00 per mile pace. The course is not near as hilly as the Tecumseh Marathon with really only four major incline. I did walk up the hills at mile 4 and 8 to save my legs for later and I also walked up the hills at mile 16 and 18 because I hadn't save enough. Plus, after not seeing Lesa at mile 17 I figured I better slow down a little (I know. It's hard to slow down from an already glacial pace but it was possible) over the last 9 miles. </div>
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The course peaked at mile 21 and I continued to feel good until a my calves started to twitch and then cramp up. Oh, well. I snapped this picture as I stopped to stretch them out around mile 23 or 24. </div>
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Shoreline on the west side of the island.</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">The bus got Lesa back to the finish just about 30 minutes before I sauntered in. She captured this picture </span><span style="text-align: left;">of me 'flying to the finish'. Note the absence of blurring. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr55kZG5ENu4xr9K6bW6iphLo8EXXuDkp0RpknxD3lT-oyWk3rvymyVUjb5UC357Zh9XJj68xLBRucKDOdxOSytvwN-5zjmlUQdoJ7ctoqX4K71JJvX5ob1leK8qTfdgFPpWgR/s1600/IMG_1271.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr55kZG5ENu4xr9K6bW6iphLo8EXXuDkp0RpknxD3lT-oyWk3rvymyVUjb5UC357Zh9XJj68xLBRucKDOdxOSytvwN-5zjmlUQdoJ7ctoqX4K71JJvX5ob1leK8qTfdgFPpWgR/s1600/IMG_1271.PNG" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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According to my iPhone I covered 26.2 miles before I got to the finish line. I'll trust the race director and not the GPS capabilities on a yooper island. </div>
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Just chilling my bones in the coldest but cleanest of the great lakes, and now my personal favorite. I went all the way under to wash off and to be able to say I was 'baptized' in Lake Superior. (So the lake does give up her <i>dead</i>) Not that it mattered to me, but it started to rain while I was in the lake. "Oh, there's lightening? Okay, I'll get out."</div>
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After my Lake Superior bath, I take my shoes off to find a large blood blister on the second toe of my left foot. Yuck. Time to retire the new trail shoes. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI-oyg7GkocUtNSmjfU8P6rb6XlX1mhUpyAF-n0FVvjEFj0L-WatZDEpWgRR6phrlRkrnxz_RP_u4Cy8lMZ3EOAe7_JiA12Ey90Mm3JAE-eE3w5Idoi3yx_gpEYiZVN5OsPPsY/s1600/IMG_1270.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI-oyg7GkocUtNSmjfU8P6rb6XlX1mhUpyAF-n0FVvjEFj0L-WatZDEpWgRR6phrlRkrnxz_RP_u4Cy8lMZ3EOAe7_JiA12Ey90Mm3JAE-eE3w5Idoi3yx_gpEYiZVN5OsPPsY/s1600/IMG_1270.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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My poor Morton's toe partially covered.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">[<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;">Morton's foot</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;">, </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;">Greek foot</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;">, "</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;">Royal toe</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;">", "</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;">LaMay toe</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;">", "</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;">Sheppard's toe</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;">" or </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;">Morton's syndrome</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;">,</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 13px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;">long toe</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;"> is the condition of a shortened first </span><a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metatarsal" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; line-height: 22px; text-decoration: none;" title="Metatarsal">t</a>oe<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22px;"> in relation to the second toe.]</span></span></div>
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I slip on my comfy Chaco sandals (made in Michigan?) and we get in line for the ferry back to the mainland. The line is long. People say there wasn't a wait in years past. We're not sure if it's because of the rain or they are low on boats but we figure we'll have to have for 3-4 more round trips of the single ferry boat before we get off the island. Then a 12 year old kid asks us if we'd like a ride on a pontoon. Sure, I think. Is this a joke? No, just some nice guy who willing was helping transport runners and spectators on his little six passenger boat. But why did he ask us? We were in the middle of the line. I think he looked at me and figured I looked closest to death than any of the other runners in line so it would be best to get me off the island as soon as possible. </div>
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Finishers medal and shirt. Comments on marathon guide.com complain about under sized shirts (not this year) and cheap finishers medals. We'll they are hand made from wood but I'll take it. </div>
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It was about noon when we got back to the hotel and we had already check out so I washed up and changed in their restroom. I was not hungry at all so we drove outside of town to see pictured rocks from the mainland. We walked 0.6 miles into see Miners Falls... </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr_0uwt-4949udJzI5zsOif2hFnXUd5r_vVqxUAqb9NfzWUtn4yqnEZWcsVC-Ch-iBcFhY8o6YXYf61rnMG1RzyspnRG-d-GoYlT6zA60-Gz4NLURtwWxJPXk7SQHcB_kIGC1n/s1600/IMG_0634.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr_0uwt-4949udJzI5zsOif2hFnXUd5r_vVqxUAqb9NfzWUtn4yqnEZWcsVC-Ch-iBcFhY8o6YXYf61rnMG1RzyspnRG-d-GoYlT6zA60-Gz4NLURtwWxJPXk7SQHcB_kIGC1n/s1600/IMG_0634.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Miners Falls</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNiY4mr8lgZ7A_BDlsUmq4u9cwI6HalXMD0RHW5uG-tKv2MK48swVlespFX2B3nZZIKScG5-dgFrlFbjPwp3XAyRg1Fm-jhAZNx3zIRZzLDl45RMLJmSCr03KzLrM1Z_cwNTG2/s1600/IMG_1264.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNiY4mr8lgZ7A_BDlsUmq4u9cwI6HalXMD0RHW5uG-tKv2MK48swVlespFX2B3nZZIKScG5-dgFrlFbjPwp3XAyRg1Fm-jhAZNx3zIRZzLDl45RMLJmSCr03KzLrM1Z_cwNTG2/s1600/IMG_1264.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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...and then drove a little further to see Miners Castle.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnZ4ldUxcx0wbNjTxoPA2_E0_2RoqGUk53A332jbgWURciTQu63hYBBZsatErzMToxcs3_b0mjaba6zK9frtv3uG3g5ImQsokyTJZ1t4FDQZth7z1RU4gIqJhegnAGkinEUqKE/s1600/IMG_0637.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnZ4ldUxcx0wbNjTxoPA2_E0_2RoqGUk53A332jbgWURciTQu63hYBBZsatErzMToxcs3_b0mjaba6zK9frtv3uG3g5ImQsokyTJZ1t4FDQZth7z1RU4gIqJhegnAGkinEUqKE/s1600/IMG_0637.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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The water below Miners Castle</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhReScGbSdt9jkBRGfQ0wOr70CXeyBqGtEZChoZmpoma_RH65Bd5F7tbnfbNlYX1UiykQnynEls2wVuzW3RSjEqhCoFQD1nKm5_QPVDJl1hIRSHn5w3tgCcpEVq-ipPRk1JfiIz/s1600/IMG_1265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhReScGbSdt9jkBRGfQ0wOr70CXeyBqGtEZChoZmpoma_RH65Bd5F7tbnfbNlYX1UiykQnynEls2wVuzW3RSjEqhCoFQD1nKm5_QPVDJl1hIRSHn5w3tgCcpEVq-ipPRk1JfiIz/s1600/IMG_1265.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Crystal clean water.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi68pPvjh9CZ7hen1GmB0LEnztI9W16l2g6NVSZmr581-XBki-i4OnNzQgu2WW9VQ0yF9pq6pso331dWsx-TcrNM_Jcucq4_kA0OgUD6LysZVht5STOVquQ369J3tXvI9gz8Ei/s1600/IMG_1262.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi68pPvjh9CZ7hen1GmB0LEnztI9W16l2g6NVSZmr581-XBki-i4OnNzQgu2WW9VQ0yF9pq6pso331dWsx-TcrNM_Jcucq4_kA0OgUD6LysZVht5STOVquQ369J3tXvI9gz8Ei/s1600/IMG_1262.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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View from the lookout on Miners Castle</div>
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Annoying loud "water snowmobiles."</div>
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Panorama view from Miners Castle. In the distance is Grand Island.</div>
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I loved this icon. It looks like a snowboarder to me but it gets the point across. </div>
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Finally, I was hungry so we considered our Munising eating options and vetoed the popular Li'l Abner themed restaurant and opted for a local pizza parlor called Main Street pizza. Not too bad. We took the leftovers with us and hit the road. Lesa drove us through Green Bay and Appleton to Madison where we stayed the night before driving home the next day. </div>
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Lesa and me in Madison on the shore of Lake Mendota. Apparently marathons make my forehead grow longer. Not the best picture of Lesa, the LOML, who is a beautiful as ever.</div>
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Overall the marathon did not disappoint. The trail was easier than I expected and while there weren't as many views of the lake as I thought, the course was gorgeous. It would have been nice to have sunny skies for sight seeing but I can't complain about running a marathon in July in 50-60 degree temps and cloudy skies. The sight seeing cruise was a little long (neither one of us brought any snacks) but well worth it. The only down side was the limited eating options in Munising but that's a easy trade off for the incredible scenery.</div>
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Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-88969777891568120952014-06-27T11:20:00.000-05:002014-06-27T11:20:43.927-05:00My Morning Run. A Turtle and A Train.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXY8IGjAGkusnn-HRlgvYDerd8rNjRJICwdrC_44yiIKwQbFx-vK2rgxnz1N1v9Tg3jDkfh4ss_W5g3nU_hVnO8x5b9Nr3o7Q1SiRQvpN6KM7jX66-hRcruLWPag2A2qo4cXg6/s1600/IMG_1159.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXY8IGjAGkusnn-HRlgvYDerd8rNjRJICwdrC_44yiIKwQbFx-vK2rgxnz1N1v9Tg3jDkfh4ss_W5g3nU_hVnO8x5b9Nr3o7Q1SiRQvpN6KM7jX66-hRcruLWPag2A2qo4cXg6/s1600/IMG_1159.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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I picked up a running buddy just south of the First Baptist church. Not very talkative but he (she?) set a nice pace. </div>
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The corn is getting high but only has a week to reach an elephants eye (between miles 2 and 3)</div>
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A railroad runs west of town. Just off the track where the railroad crosses a road I found this cement block embedded with a plate that gives the elevation. (About mile 3)</div>
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Charleston is around 696 feet above sea level but I don't see that number or one close to it on the plate. I'll have to look closer the next time I run out that way. </div>
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I read one time that running on railroad ties helped with pre-ski condition. I guess it primes those agility reflexes that keep you on your toes. Not that I ski much any more, but once in a while I'll run along this rail road west of town just to break things up or, as with today's run, for the shade (between miles 3 and 4). It cut's a about a half mile off my run but I could make the up at the end and the shade was nice. I remember taking Paige and Ben on a "hike" along this section of railroad back when we first move to town.</div>
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So halfway down the tracks I meet this guy. I let him pass offering no resistance. </div>
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Even if I didn't meet up with the train while this bridge, it's short enough to avoid a Stand By Me episode. </div>
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Looking back (south) from the bride.</div>
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I made up the the half mile by running through a neighborhood near home. I saw this statue on Seneca Drive of a boy pushing a girl on a swing. They place it under a large tree who it looks real life. Pretty cool. </div>
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Yesterday I spoke to the EIU Distance Running camp on running nutrition and other stuff. The camp directors gave me a nice EIU Cross Country team shirt and hat. The team is sponsored by Adidas (I wish it was Brooks Shoes) which surprised me but frankly, I'm getting tired of that ubiquitous swoosh in college athletics.</div>
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Today's run. </div>
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So recently I passed this running milestone. It took just over 7 years. It's really nothing compared to real runners but it's something to me.</div>
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Hey, that's where I work! Actually I work in Lantz Arena (left and middle) in the part of the building just about the fountain and not Stephenson Hall, the tall one to the right.</div>
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<br />Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-50682307188022003142014-06-04T21:25:00.002-05:002014-06-27T10:35:27.955-05:00My Morning Run. Clouds are Cool.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In January I decided to cut back on the caffeine and that's meant, for most days, a single glass of diet Coke. But then Thursday night I dreamed that I was looking for a Dr. Pepper to drink before going skiing. Friday the dream change to a pre-marathon Dr. Pepper search. Two nights of dreams about the dark nectar was sure to be a sign. Perhaps my subconscious informed my dream center that I was planning a 16 mile run Saturday morning. Well, it worked. Up I woke, down a Dr. Pepper and banana, and put on my Saucony's. Good to go. </div>
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This is not my Dr. Pepper can.</div>
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One mile from home is the EIU football stadium and outdoor track. It's state high school track and field meet time and that means Big Al breaks out his lemon shake-up trailer for the summer. If you haven't had a lemon shake-up it's like drinking a tumbler of sugar water with a pinch of lemon. Like fry sauce in Utah, they are way over rated by Illinoisans, if you ask me.</div>
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Big Al's Lemon Shake-ups.</div>
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About two miles from home and on the west edge of town are the Lincolnshire Apartments, our first home in Charleston back in 1990. We lived in a three bedroom apartment on Union Street for 18 months. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEuHPxaMOV1fu7qfmjBNpJuxF9-UbhRMKFumQzq0BPcO732heE8gPT04HVg_i0jgYCydrErax8-GGj2oNrm1OF8lTvQovDHVkwihTW1KH2GIFcAs11FGWvk8pAadCSqK7Yr4sP/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEuHPxaMOV1fu7qfmjBNpJuxF9-UbhRMKFumQzq0BPcO732heE8gPT04HVg_i0jgYCydrErax8-GGj2oNrm1OF8lTvQovDHVkwihTW1KH2GIFcAs11FGWvk8pAadCSqK7Yr4sP/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Our first street. </div>
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I was blessed with a cloud covered sky that filtered the sun's rays down to a very bearable minimum.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Qz6ITid-HGKP9PraoDdmJa8DMksjDtGf_QA_Ywf5LEEd3Uudvr6WHEFORNbU2tMIFr3pFNbuE7SkSCyTYUFjZU1ONMpUjcd5akLXZgCKH_TGI4SrIiWwPKJ4pJ2zLn926w5j/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Qz6ITid-HGKP9PraoDdmJa8DMksjDtGf_QA_Ywf5LEEd3Uudvr6WHEFORNbU2tMIFr3pFNbuE7SkSCyTYUFjZU1ONMpUjcd5akLXZgCKH_TGI4SrIiWwPKJ4pJ2zLn926w5j/s1600/photo+3.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Sunrise</div>
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The mostly deserted Brown Shoe Company stands just off the bike trail. It reminds me of seeing Buster Brown Shoes at Keith O'Brian's in Logan. I always thought they were ugly. </div>
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Buster Brown Shoe Company</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL4zctT_JPLB-c0UXn6OtMpm-KP4mf1gmCU6kNbPVPo2uMfU8uVRp_yYE1BSkF1UKmdN7cIknKsq0Rn-bFaZcc8fZi-ymZFyxHaCt1LGxjNYFQTU_7OtU_tNTPij3b5Ki9O3Xx/s1600/Buster+Brown+shoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL4zctT_JPLB-c0UXn6OtMpm-KP4mf1gmCU6kNbPVPo2uMfU8uVRp_yYE1BSkF1UKmdN7cIknKsq0Rn-bFaZcc8fZi-ymZFyxHaCt1LGxjNYFQTU_7OtU_tNTPij3b5Ki9O3Xx/s1600/Buster+Brown+shoes.jpg" height="252" width="320" /></a></div>
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Buster Brown Shoes</div>
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Ah, the bike trail. This is looking east toward the the beginning of the trail. Being a old railroad line, the trail typically has a right and a left lane to it. This section doesn't get as much traffic thus the weed covered right (or south) lane. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHR69WeMhTctZJYPHEnyB5Sjp2MZU6MhBgfZJHRVWj1LtiBO-DQ69Z24lvy5Qf6OQLmwcclRM9yEc0J3m-srN5i0GCjaVtUJgShE3ALqnbb4MJMST37yltGp_wzLttlrxGo-px/s1600/photo+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHR69WeMhTctZJYPHEnyB5Sjp2MZU6MhBgfZJHRVWj1LtiBO-DQ69Z24lvy5Qf6OQLmwcclRM9yEc0J3m-srN5i0GCjaVtUJgShE3ALqnbb4MJMST37yltGp_wzLttlrxGo-px/s1600/photo+2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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I took the trail least traveled (right) and it made no difference.</div>
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With the cold winter behind us, I think most farmers have their fields planted but that's not why I took this pictures. I took it because I was still grateful for a sky of clouds to cool my way.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvs_thVWiT10261ZZGvsNbU5svq5ItL_a19Sb3a_keHmzoJIMRsm1m8RFmQ_0LHmUURH6oDDLDAGEsPoQTFFe8xaQc6LXcmdyl99yUUWAvOu-gFPithWNYGDfEbS1H0JdBltT/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvs_thVWiT10261ZZGvsNbU5svq5ItL_a19Sb3a_keHmzoJIMRsm1m8RFmQ_0LHmUURH6oDDLDAGEsPoQTFFe8xaQc6LXcmdyl99yUUWAvOu-gFPithWNYGDfEbS1H0JdBltT/s1600/photo+3.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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I love clouds on a sunny day.</div>
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Running past Charleston High football stadium I spotted this wig on the crossing sign. I don't think it's Molly's but it reminded me of the picture of her wearing great-grandma Freeman's wig. Molly, let me know if you want this wig and I'll go back and look for it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRp4Sd5Xx9YOaLqeXX2SmaNp9LYubm2re-Ir34cQEY-Y-VjyPp9PSnYjzbSrNhuauanbl-FTzozc5bszlBIfCujmqvJ2xDVzIqrsvWsjrUE3lZKaWlswy_lq5-K_vLWpozJtS/s1600/photo+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRp4Sd5Xx9YOaLqeXX2SmaNp9LYubm2re-Ir34cQEY-Y-VjyPp9PSnYjzbSrNhuauanbl-FTzozc5bszlBIfCujmqvJ2xDVzIqrsvWsjrUE3lZKaWlswy_lq5-K_vLWpozJtS/s1600/photo+4.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Flipped your wig?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg5CI1lW9L1k8bdTW2TUHtx57LUaKR6bY6lF1-FlAHfD9g6Wy75np-zQSCQx0f9BegwgQ_Si8_Ml8gvm_tbggP-T9q07yfSAT0QNmuxF6G-tQ_K_xNIbGkJd-0PaEJtpILUj0z/s1600/Molly-Cubs%2526Wig+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg5CI1lW9L1k8bdTW2TUHtx57LUaKR6bY6lF1-FlAHfD9g6Wy75np-zQSCQx0f9BegwgQ_Si8_Ml8gvm_tbggP-T9q07yfSAT0QNmuxF6G-tQ_K_xNIbGkJd-0PaEJtpILUj0z/s1600/Molly-Cubs%2526Wig+copy.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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There it is. A 16 mile deposit in the bank of preparation for the Grand Island Marathon in July. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4A_VaV9ukRmqF9ugOAPFspQn0qJp7A4_qScogUkXHxI4GULDGfUXphwOGsVadZvL4tpRRsGYw6nzIBfbq30VpoT_pUPazURN47JeXMA8hR7W3igHOEDuwxjGv-nUL9g1m9g_R/s1600/photo.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4A_VaV9ukRmqF9ugOAPFspQn0qJp7A4_qScogUkXHxI4GULDGfUXphwOGsVadZvL4tpRRsGYw6nzIBfbq30VpoT_pUPazURN47JeXMA8hR7W3igHOEDuwxjGv-nUL9g1m9g_R/s1600/photo.PNG" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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Mile 1 - Big Al's</div>
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Mile 2 - Union Street</div>
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Mile 5 - Sunrise</div>
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Mile 9 - Brown Shoe Company</div>
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Mile 10 - Trail less traveled</div>
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Mile 11 - Clouds</div>
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Mile 14 - Missing Wig</div>
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<br />Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-18644891717274720992014-05-03T16:18:00.001-05:002014-05-03T16:18:44.613-05:00My Morning Run. Go longish or go home. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Last Saturday the warm weather forced me to head home short of my goal. Nicer temps today, just that annoying wind was back, or really, hadn't left. My goal today was 16 miles but I went an extra mile. Here's what I saw along the way and the three marathons options that motivated me. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7vCGVu9P-3H_d3tkk6rEOtc-ivOiykCLhlJcd46McGIQ7JkKBh-zd14vsBJF_18-QCrNo27M9anbvYU6gUQLyOkqJ5ebHmnh7GTiOz2oZn9aAq6-0m8524rxBAeyVEv9CiCPr/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7vCGVu9P-3H_d3tkk6rEOtc-ivOiykCLhlJcd46McGIQ7JkKBh-zd14vsBJF_18-QCrNo27M9anbvYU6gUQLyOkqJ5ebHmnh7GTiOz2oZn9aAq6-0m8524rxBAeyVEv9CiCPr/s1600/photo+1.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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It's spring time in the Midwest...finally.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwRt9K5Re7GOPOkwdp-UlXqij2D_9H1N2L6wTHqN4EgCOK3uOV7ma3VAnpbMJnQMDzOJrJ-565nu5Kuo9n_9C8CNfJWfVo_62Z_1GnZKdaNm73TzgWJc6gENBEcVoU7LmvzmTB/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwRt9K5Re7GOPOkwdp-UlXqij2D_9H1N2L6wTHqN4EgCOK3uOV7ma3VAnpbMJnQMDzOJrJ-565nu5Kuo9n_9C8CNfJWfVo_62Z_1GnZKdaNm73TzgWJc6gENBEcVoU7LmvzmTB/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Joggin' on down the road. 17 miles total. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHVh7V2K-S02BLUOuSifBJII2Ylv_ak6bWzqI3B-k5WEEjwJdOzm_bAxvlK4sK1bKX_iZR4HZiOBTFQN1PhSZmbcOU0F9eJcduWwOU8zAqQRQUj9L0aUwiJfRixEPF2gWLgMRq/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHVh7V2K-S02BLUOuSifBJII2Ylv_ak6bWzqI3B-k5WEEjwJdOzm_bAxvlK4sK1bKX_iZR4HZiOBTFQN1PhSZmbcOU0F9eJcduWwOU8zAqQRQUj9L0aUwiJfRixEPF2gWLgMRq/s1600/photo+1.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Planting time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6l8Bld4X2mtLvxUTowCo7T-lpg0YVcRAJIuU16aKpfx9NzWz8IRyBblK2r6mpjaveK-aeUVijJIUgjXnGTh40v-vHJhq_eGSYHFmgXFpuYeVTu0dtDXnso4oPLGHIVylKm-cL/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6l8Bld4X2mtLvxUTowCo7T-lpg0YVcRAJIuU16aKpfx9NzWz8IRyBblK2r6mpjaveK-aeUVijJIUgjXnGTh40v-vHJhq_eGSYHFmgXFpuYeVTu0dtDXnso4oPLGHIVylKm-cL/s1600/photo+3.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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I promise it's not mine.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ3WdX8oRYNvpucbg1AnKBBCSejyXDqWdlDMeoE0e4Z8wwkp4q2Tqu_pHJZjKfeQfZ2q0MkXDuRmZRJawvcvxw5Lt_fvH9TsTsQptsgHV6POGyIhqO6ribcow5ODSYLXMTASvp/s1600/photo+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ3WdX8oRYNvpucbg1AnKBBCSejyXDqWdlDMeoE0e4Z8wwkp4q2Tqu_pHJZjKfeQfZ2q0MkXDuRmZRJawvcvxw5Lt_fvH9TsTsQptsgHV6POGyIhqO6ribcow5ODSYLXMTASvp/s1600/photo+2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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More spring time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLXdxw5dlShpjKmKrGGFXMzPUAP66BjvIRqEl8f3EiDdiO7iHqs79LnHokD3AgoyfDxWsR0DhwlpvvHuNdGM9G4Fjf61xpBTSADcxU-EuPBbsRkoqA5ypnwjuE6huFo4ne4qz8/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLXdxw5dlShpjKmKrGGFXMzPUAP66BjvIRqEl8f3EiDdiO7iHqs79LnHokD3AgoyfDxWsR0DhwlpvvHuNdGM9G4Fjf61xpBTSADcxU-EuPBbsRkoqA5ypnwjuE6huFo4ne4qz8/s1600/photo+1.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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After the rightward bend, it's all up hill (and it's steeper than it looks)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFCxnJQ3TzxnX86O-k2MgPSFd6PvUF5uynupOcfFp2gQI5OANwF8meCOhx4tGy28E6gXB46UUDYUhXdgD9k1qTml7wLok1SFmwAJa1QOgYBB9V-4RzyMIGTpNKLXI8lbVhjPEo/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFCxnJQ3TzxnX86O-k2MgPSFd6PvUF5uynupOcfFp2gQI5OANwF8meCOhx4tGy28E6gXB46UUDYUhXdgD9k1qTml7wLok1SFmwAJa1QOgYBB9V-4RzyMIGTpNKLXI8lbVhjPEo/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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And...here' the downhill.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7eEGuVpUarlgDoBDOqrwWo2AXAVvNTAygzEsLPhL2KyXH99QAAdLDmbGA0X_tqzYmXMmOGIekftSPN1fz2-7Lo0mojKrQ4q9ow8j7bbAhmtfE0clOutoJErhb6g0wRc9v-61q/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7eEGuVpUarlgDoBDOqrwWo2AXAVvNTAygzEsLPhL2KyXH99QAAdLDmbGA0X_tqzYmXMmOGIekftSPN1fz2-7Lo0mojKrQ4q9ow8j7bbAhmtfE0clOutoJErhb6g0wRc9v-61q/s1600/photo+3.JPG" height="159" width="320" /></a><br />
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Nice looking row of trees. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSKb1M7ZNfHad_aV0jwNYVZunUoTurKCzgMT4DMvtCc9xnEDZDiGi0HjQfQW6kWs1R-aPrhgwJ_G-jFLL7jYhWlUREKjXy2F9LJij0slvv-kYmbLI8EHrR8pKnyVFODrbPTMVU/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSKb1M7ZNfHad_aV0jwNYVZunUoTurKCzgMT4DMvtCc9xnEDZDiGi0HjQfQW6kWs1R-aPrhgwJ_G-jFLL7jYhWlUREKjXy2F9LJij0slvv-kYmbLI8EHrR8pKnyVFODrbPTMVU/s1600/photo+1.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Mt. Zion (aka Kickapoo Church) south of town.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTar23gFGesIVZT7_rSxPdEfLGN3_6iSCs0vFQ-W1ZfaxmdmX-ucAWLJnubjP_j3ncz8w9Y8_s9BnMx1X0rEcAo29zy6TDB3fmNallFUWuWgITuxrVGfuJH5GdV13MSe9E2Vqs/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTar23gFGesIVZT7_rSxPdEfLGN3_6iSCs0vFQ-W1ZfaxmdmX-ucAWLJnubjP_j3ncz8w9Y8_s9BnMx1X0rEcAo29zy6TDB3fmNallFUWuWgITuxrVGfuJH5GdV13MSe9E2Vqs/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Kickapoo</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-2Jc2hxdYXp3XgcQo4iIODSogsYYVZ3yIwC4OKRRLnMO8WxZ6uuGhPXdkgfF47sC30yB4MdVuGxRUCQFs95cV65K1rvP01FOeTWKTOQdgO9_kJh-n2TtlgoFTOmv_eLJOqTRw/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-2Jc2hxdYXp3XgcQo4iIODSogsYYVZ3yIwC4OKRRLnMO8WxZ6uuGhPXdkgfF47sC30yB4MdVuGxRUCQFs95cV65K1rvP01FOeTWKTOQdgO9_kJh-n2TtlgoFTOmv_eLJOqTRw/s1600/photo+3.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://runslowskifast.blogspot.com/2013/07/my-morning-run-signs-and-symbols.html" target="_blank">Last summer there was a house here</a>. </div>
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It was for sale "as is". No one bought it because it was trash so the city razed the mess and is converting the property into a park. </div>
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<b><u>The three marathons I'm considering this summer are:</u></b></div>
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<a href="http://whitefishpointmarathon.org/" target="_blank">Whitefish Point Marathon</a> in the upper peninsula of Michigan along Lake Superior shoreline. It's a 9-10 hour drive from Charleston but it might be worth it. Registration is an unheard of $35, it's very low key and is on June 14. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh77oCnZI0fF_eonk_OVPu_4VFUFj5DKjJavkOsyHx9gmQq9kz3qTsNVeUi4ld5OYSW7ZJ76KgXXk3ANO7CBR7-BRi2Y0KM86yVrPO2r-r7_WdEPB4H3VwbU9RGk5z-bxEtcWYa/s1600/Whitefish+Point+Marathon+map.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh77oCnZI0fF_eonk_OVPu_4VFUFj5DKjJavkOsyHx9gmQq9kz3qTsNVeUi4ld5OYSW7ZJ76KgXXk3ANO7CBR7-BRi2Y0KM86yVrPO2r-r7_WdEPB4H3VwbU9RGk5z-bxEtcWYa/s1600/Whitefish+Point+Marathon+map.png" height="275" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.greatlakesendurance.com/michigan-races/grand-island-trail-marathon.html" target="_blank">Grand Island Marathon</a>, also a Yupper and also a 9-10 drive. The marathon runs around Grand Island, just off the shore of Lake Superior. You take a ferry out to the Island and have to swim back. (Just kidding about the swim part.) It's a little more expensive than Whitefish in part due to the ferry charge but it may be too beautiful to pass up on July 26.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz8YGv0JH_F4epu9-wknFnbEkftYgw0kuuqmR-vZ-tdO-gsi9EmanuOPCeMbOP60hCkNXmjTfG39NgZOGA45PDP5fAtu8QqNMVs4svEKu9-xM5t7CMJ81dk6HaHvTNz0mOHo3R/s1600/Grand+Island+Marathon+map.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz8YGv0JH_F4epu9-wknFnbEkftYgw0kuuqmR-vZ-tdO-gsi9EmanuOPCeMbOP60hCkNXmjTfG39NgZOGA45PDP5fAtu8QqNMVs4svEKu9-xM5t7CMJ81dk6HaHvTNz0mOHo3R/s1600/Grand+Island+Marathon+map.png" height="320" width="242" /></a></div>
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or </div>
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The Utah Valley Marathon</div>
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It's the same day as Whitefish so this is more of a back-up option.</div>
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<br />Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-59385612950653392542014-04-12T15:24:00.002-05:002014-05-03T16:18:58.407-05:00My Morning Run. Come Let Us (Me) Run Anew.<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This post has something to do with resolutions. My new year resolutions are still ongoing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">1. Read the Old Testament cover to cover. I'm currently bogged down in Leviticus but that's mostly due to a focus on reading about the Holy week in preparation for Easter. I'll get back to all those sacrificial rules after Easter. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">2. Drink less diet Coke, Dr. Pepper and caffeine in general. I typical have one a day but that's way down from my previous intake volume.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">3. More effective prayers. I feel this is happening but still could be much better. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Motivated by the success with those resolutions, I added a new one right before spring break week in March; to run more. In order to do this I decided to get up when Lesa does at 5:00 a.m., study the scriptures for an hour-ish and then run or ride the stationary bike for an hour-ish except on Sundays and one other weekday of my choosing. I also resolved to do more core and upper body exercises after my cardio stuff. Sit-ups, crunches, etc. The first couple of weeks were a little challenging mostly because of the weather. Even though it was March, it was still cold—and windy—at 6:00 a.m. But, it's been worth it. After two and a half weeks my pants fit looser, my back didn't ache as much, I was running less slowly, and I just all around felt better. Not too bad.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I can't say it's a new me but I like the collective affects of these resolutions. Now that spring has finally arrive to the Midwest, the green grass and shoots of lilies remind me that we can change, year to year. Hopefully, next April I have mastered these resolutions and add from my seemingly eternally long list of flaws new ones to conquer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm pretending to train for the Utah Valley Marathon just incase I actually end up doing it this year. Today as my 14-15 miler. I head south of town to get in some hills but at one point...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 21px;">Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 21px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 21px;">I took the one less [hilly],</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 21px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 21px;">And that has made all the difference.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 21px;">In other words, I turned north away from the hilly terrain. I don't think I would have ran 14 miles on the hilly southern route. </span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeMtnHBMnGKgcUniG_iMHX5H17X1VSdXnZcnPxX0zhmoEu4vkVsvxOnmeLL_Av-P3lLbf4eOrawrSl7UkUcGqPUN2tYn4JWzS95uifYLJLbxFdYFygDyY7nNzQge74Ob5V0V0g/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeMtnHBMnGKgcUniG_iMHX5H17X1VSdXnZcnPxX0zhmoEu4vkVsvxOnmeLL_Av-P3lLbf4eOrawrSl7UkUcGqPUN2tYn4JWzS95uifYLJLbxFdYFygDyY7nNzQge74Ob5V0V0g/s1600/photo+1.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisTpK8-tOocx7uTM1x7sF5Cb09UbbH8jYNHIi4BPEenWGtf7V7pJxFfmakyxu3Q4gP5XJY2DlJDX_pAkmZQR6kKcCu0P2Yvqfg51lRYKPzWPqQlztvyW9Fv4G0L46FPrfzz3lk/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisTpK8-tOocx7uTM1x7sF5Cb09UbbH8jYNHIi4BPEenWGtf7V7pJxFfmakyxu3Q4gP5XJY2DlJDX_pAkmZQR6kKcCu0P2Yvqfg51lRYKPzWPqQlztvyW9Fv4G0L46FPrfzz3lk/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 21px;">I saw this guy waving me along the bike path. He sits atop Gano Welding Supplies. He seemed really friendly. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8bufENauCK8GWAoVL5Iedc-J58LWm0mvYI6RbYsrOuznf4dAB_1sevMdmrSCEy-8J_fii6zkGypilMbdkmBUY4DAWL1t2xy9b6SlINGfd_7iNjb7ltgfvErflwCPEakmq4xxJ/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8bufENauCK8GWAoVL5Iedc-J58LWm0mvYI6RbYsrOuznf4dAB_1sevMdmrSCEy-8J_fii6zkGypilMbdkmBUY4DAWL1t2xy9b6SlINGfd_7iNjb7ltgfvErflwCPEakmq4xxJ/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Graffiti on the train underpass. </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 21px;">Beautiful, no?</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRG0NTmCX1htv1Nl1mKdS_aE-nkk02sYAm_QjmKwRHtiMSfIszJ0gfwTRFDGVB2bWDM0SrCLz72-pqi_ETWK-lJLHguG2oU1qrpfQmieUvjOp03C5ORFweMJ-Zd7YrVUCiXANe/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRG0NTmCX1htv1Nl1mKdS_aE-nkk02sYAm_QjmKwRHtiMSfIszJ0gfwTRFDGVB2bWDM0SrCLz72-pqi_ETWK-lJLHguG2oU1qrpfQmieUvjOp03C5ORFweMJ-Zd7YrVUCiXANe/s1600/photo+3.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 21px;">Lilies popping up in the front yard. Looks like spring.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Wc1JdWMIxRGIExisresD3t3M5iYs4OAKFcy44Laek9BzGQ1RVJC7QcfXoMGdHwYNsVw0XOWn6nmPTUD_p2btLn7CifvOHHYM_BWU9z6ACq5AjtyE9ykfBohd-beEol5nfofP/s1600/April+12+run.001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Wc1JdWMIxRGIExisresD3t3M5iYs4OAKFcy44Laek9BzGQ1RVJC7QcfXoMGdHwYNsVw0XOWn6nmPTUD_p2btLn7CifvOHHYM_BWU9z6ACq5AjtyE9ykfBohd-beEol5nfofP/s1600/April+12+run.001.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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My route.</div>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span>Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-90186700412234873802014-04-08T07:18:00.001-05:002014-04-08T07:18:18.294-05:00My Morning Run. What Is It?<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGOaXtuk04tbI_5qj8yBpFO9zRUpUinS4-5jxmaCTKk6qycspMVQwtDfmMtIeyyW0OfnaqIxTsGGO31EwqixwDNuIbMZEHWBXGNwuiY_R2sSoS8VhcI5osxYETKmFgqztSlPOi/s640/blogger-image--388137839.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGOaXtuk04tbI_5qj8yBpFO9zRUpUinS4-5jxmaCTKk6qycspMVQwtDfmMtIeyyW0OfnaqIxTsGGO31EwqixwDNuIbMZEHWBXGNwuiY_R2sSoS8VhcI5osxYETKmFgqztSlPOi/s640/blogger-image--388137839.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Leech? Mud? Wasp? Tattoo? </div><br></div>Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-13341788765436581862014-04-03T16:02:00.001-05:002014-04-03T16:02:29.225-05:00My Morning Run. Rain? What rain?<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTuIwDgj4UyvGUHttR7pMsUqnlgxjjL2iXXefyd2cpn6u-ZeYnQiZXfmFd2lH_RU7ww0hvt8eitAGffC13ig5AusMQSUy1sdb2-eqpCG16Sq8N-LQaINXYdhv3HNPVTRao_WBQ/s640/blogger-image--1328316582.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTuIwDgj4UyvGUHttR7pMsUqnlgxjjL2iXXefyd2cpn6u-ZeYnQiZXfmFd2lH_RU7ww0hvt8eitAGffC13ig5AusMQSUy1sdb2-eqpCG16Sq8N-LQaINXYdhv3HNPVTRao_WBQ/s640/blogger-image--1328316582.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This is when I when I ran.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRhnXmIK29fxVIoMVg8H4oPaQOedP1S8CQT8PJbEFmYo2cRztXXvmhQWP5Ndi5Q45hvZh2P_AMIhLk8Pt75GybgnBxXX8X0vqlSaYSeEz5-3g7uZjUsLu4fQHvYuuay3yMOTzV/s640/blogger-image--1210001092.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRhnXmIK29fxVIoMVg8H4oPaQOedP1S8CQT8PJbEFmYo2cRztXXvmhQWP5Ndi5Q45hvZh2P_AMIhLk8Pt75GybgnBxXX8X0vqlSaYSeEz5-3g7uZjUsLu4fQHvYuuay3yMOTzV/s640/blogger-image--1210001092.jpg"></a></div>This is after my run.</div>Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-14977793500096139232014-03-29T14:02:00.002-05:002014-03-29T14:10:07.943-05:00My Morning Run. Shoeless Jake. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I't spring and it's windy in Illinois. Nothing new. A brisk wind coming perfectly from the north was the flavor for today. Understand geometry, I had two options. One, have Lesa drive me 12 miles north of town and run parallel with the wind. The other option was to run west and east at a right degree angle to the wind. The long, east-west bike path made the second option the best. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmWZknAHCbp10_17eGbC0nN4_Wq4YnFexd-p8uUVG3zAvcQ71h1T3PNZJ3BTTsDxomYotb_mZ_f1u3ZnETnbRSDzaHKRTEsEJ6PMUkxRN1OR2hCWc5-9O1-TEeXgQMQVVJxn64/s1600/IMG_1014.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmWZknAHCbp10_17eGbC0nN4_Wq4YnFexd-p8uUVG3zAvcQ71h1T3PNZJ3BTTsDxomYotb_mZ_f1u3ZnETnbRSDzaHKRTEsEJ6PMUkxRN1OR2hCWc5-9O1-TEeXgQMQVVJxn64/s1600/IMG_1014.PNG" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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When I got to the Charleston Country Club it was obvious that no one was on the course so just past the third mile I took a hard right to run through the back nine holes of the course along its cement path connecting holes 11 through 16. This meant I'd have to run a little north into the wind but the holes are located in a small valley which provided a little shelter. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp2QbsUMyaxIKoWgu9YQW8TKj6SRbdNcX2nGFs9QFPeU-hy1fyVxpP-Ld6yhjXJ7LdsDH0Qsgw7Fl_RST33w7FKzaJdFKyB9uuCkXEeIz-K09RIvvmw-Az1M36HP6ESJP9h9cj/s1600/IMG_1013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp2QbsUMyaxIKoWgu9YQW8TKj6SRbdNcX2nGFs9QFPeU-hy1fyVxpP-Ld6yhjXJ7LdsDH0Qsgw7Fl_RST33w7FKzaJdFKyB9uuCkXEeIz-K09RIvvmw-Az1M36HP6ESJP9h9cj/s1600/IMG_1013.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Near the 11th green I encounter this water hazard. I was coming towards where this picture was taken. Again, knowing my geometry, the shortest distance across the water appeared to be the left of the picture just off the path so that's where I took my leap. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2uHE3wWtCh2_W2hx0neCAM38A4a29-vYtjFA5Me4S75aKE7QYu8NuvBilUrQ5OUrQKT8_xALyNUD5WmyrOjechH5VYiB1AhZLWK3HTAGYmv4Jz8eAVHJ-30qXi7wGpx0NRYa9/s1600/IMG_1012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2uHE3wWtCh2_W2hx0neCAM38A4a29-vYtjFA5Me4S75aKE7QYu8NuvBilUrQ5OUrQKT8_xALyNUD5WmyrOjechH5VYiB1AhZLWK3HTAGYmv4Jz8eAVHJ-30qXi7wGpx0NRYa9/s1600/IMG_1012.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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I cleared the water and landed on grass. Success! But when I pulled my foot form the soft landing pad, my shoe remained behind stayed stuck in the muck. I wanted to take a picture of my lonely Saucony stuck in the mud but I didn't trust myself to balance on one foot in the process. I retrieved my shoe, smacked off as much mud as I could while hopping on my right leg keeping my left sock and foot dry, replace my left shoe and jogged on towards mile 4. I looped back and figured to at least capture a picture of the foot print which now marked the end of my 5th mile. </div>
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I got back on the bike path and ran west to mile 6, did a 180 degree turn and ran back to the Pathfinder arriving with both shoes securely attached to both feet.</div>
<br />Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-79063050619843412622014-03-15T08:10:00.001-05:002014-03-15T08:10:28.045-05:00My Morning Run. And, It's March.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4cz90NW_8romBY-1NY_V61nibVhzk7ByMxiWRZFOLWBbdwHCrs4hyphenhyphentscKDuHqvlmE9Xga8C2EjK5iQ-I4A-JVa1S5fCzXIvbRI64nnFbBhvg9H3w4gM1pCdeAEWqYLRdvYMn6/s640/blogger-image--268715993.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4cz90NW_8romBY-1NY_V61nibVhzk7ByMxiWRZFOLWBbdwHCrs4hyphenhyphentscKDuHqvlmE9Xga8C2EjK5iQ-I4A-JVa1S5fCzXIvbRI64nnFbBhvg9H3w4gM1pCdeAEWqYLRdvYMn6/s640/blogger-image--268715993.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The last of the snow from a hard and glorious winter.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihiKgiHaTpMlDXxsrKyykf6VOctYn5SIhiafFuP8jgBONb9E5Wp3_k0H7s_hmTpF3lmv9CvPcdz_Ok77Hz5krTYOkff0RkDfn71kSEkxwZHF3MVOITuQtpmQ5wTGgiCISHsimF/s640/blogger-image--663113358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihiKgiHaTpMlDXxsrKyykf6VOctYn5SIhiafFuP8jgBONb9E5Wp3_k0H7s_hmTpF3lmv9CvPcdz_Ok77Hz5krTYOkff0RkDfn71kSEkxwZHF3MVOITuQtpmQ5wTGgiCISHsimF/s640/blogger-image--663113358.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Baptist church on the southern edge of town. </div><br></div>Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-2883047097197412982014-01-16T11:49:00.004-06:002014-01-16T11:50:10.535-06:00My Morning Run. Wish I Had A Beard.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjE7sjyT9GavXHPPTFdpc7im4HAxqltqSgBFbto4wHVMQO6hJm84zsE26RCi8IWmCt_uzIoMCBHAYLRW3bLFbVZoR_n8xv-wAs4yDG7S_-f9s2oUXC21iMh2mY8y3xThrHlkef/s1600/IMG_0881.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjE7sjyT9GavXHPPTFdpc7im4HAxqltqSgBFbto4wHVMQO6hJm84zsE26RCi8IWmCt_uzIoMCBHAYLRW3bLFbVZoR_n8xv-wAs4yDG7S_-f9s2oUXC21iMh2mY8y3xThrHlkef/s1600/IMG_0881.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Southern end of Panther Trail looking west. There was a strong cross wind from the south. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-FArjwmZ3jvDELTn9X7xnzsrNww9K5u6V1eYbckck7eZzjXj_q0CKtlHALvOWQhNa9UEhUGWxBHDWO_w7wVGbo8TsNBjL5KGgQyLDG0tdr0z2JTop1JclsdykEXCVYudp4lJP/s1600/IMG_0882.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-FArjwmZ3jvDELTn9X7xnzsrNww9K5u6V1eYbckck7eZzjXj_q0CKtlHALvOWQhNa9UEhUGWxBHDWO_w7wVGbo8TsNBjL5KGgQyLDG0tdr0z2JTop1JclsdykEXCVYudp4lJP/s1600/IMG_0882.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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Looking east just behind the baseball field. I stood next to a tree to block the 15-20 mph winds. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOtPJ6M0HrCUc4PMnLFMPHBjynpnuSqiajrZaO5guv_rXLauf52oUq_MWVoHnCL5frPObnEo6orxQFbB-xlwv0uWuQLNHlRdYaWq3lYRrSUjY50dbRNgyxQqjQMiNI_qBTR9hk/s1600/IMG_0883.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOtPJ6M0HrCUc4PMnLFMPHBjynpnuSqiajrZaO5guv_rXLauf52oUq_MWVoHnCL5frPObnEo6orxQFbB-xlwv0uWuQLNHlRdYaWq3lYRrSUjY50dbRNgyxQqjQMiNI_qBTR9hk/s1600/IMG_0883.PNG" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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I started in the lower right corner and did two clockwise laps of the Panther Trail. On the second lap, I stopped to take a picture at the south end (bottom) of the trail where my iPhone gave up and stopped working altogether. I reset it at the north end (top) of the trail and it assumed I ran straight from the south to the north end, thus the dotted line to the left. The same thing happened a little later on and my iPhone didn't recover until I got home, thus the second dotted line. I estimate that I ran 1.5 miles further than the 2.87 miles indicated. </div>
<br />Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-43685419615219946832014-01-11T08:21:00.001-06:002014-01-11T08:21:43.354-06:00My Morning Run, Slush<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzmp33ZRuUMHueiNy1jkFcJJSXbbrF5sNsGexUCtEgSZBbIhidq1u_u9cW0PM1rh0S-zDQYMGb4whyphenhyphenil8Cc1HZK35zVdR5EM12zyLjlfeOz4dFY8RhW5FkihB8hpIovlPZwtj6/s640/blogger-image-26174897.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzmp33ZRuUMHueiNy1jkFcJJSXbbrF5sNsGexUCtEgSZBbIhidq1u_u9cW0PM1rh0S-zDQYMGb4whyphenhyphenil8Cc1HZK35zVdR5EM12zyLjlfeOz4dFY8RhW5FkihB8hpIovlPZwtj6/s640/blogger-image-26174897.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Old Main thawing. The foot of snow left quickly once the rain came. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2KGNT0k80vPb4BkVaHgLiRwyIdNLDjXqnSQrC248D4gSazKIXXfJKIc7cFiwhzYNS8QlCE4vcQ2QVgUIFGkUNWsosTuYnt7mz-J0_y1RGJTpwUKjqpg_pAzUcG2VjPuqbyKWs/s640/blogger-image-753088117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2KGNT0k80vPb4BkVaHgLiRwyIdNLDjXqnSQrC248D4gSazKIXXfJKIc7cFiwhzYNS8QlCE4vcQ2QVgUIFGkUNWsosTuYnt7mz-J0_y1RGJTpwUKjqpg_pAzUcG2VjPuqbyKWs/s640/blogger-image-753088117.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Blair Hall. </div><br></div>Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-22883920703358352372013-12-06T14:45:00.000-06:002013-12-06T14:46:21.241-06:00My Morning Run. Yes Thanksgiving, No Tecumseh.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWGaXnulv_9TSxzGociGVXRRCKCUxr8kiWpulyUp60HzH1kZPhfSUCRsxEY9JggN2vjPFg2z7N1Eto8M0DM7QVMR5y_CpeJhjaVSW3KA_YOQSf9lq09riKOZQXacJe6ap-irJN/s1600/IMG_0760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWGaXnulv_9TSxzGociGVXRRCKCUxr8kiWpulyUp60HzH1kZPhfSUCRsxEY9JggN2vjPFg2z7N1Eto8M0DM7QVMR5y_CpeJhjaVSW3KA_YOQSf9lq09riKOZQXacJe6ap-irJN/s320/IMG_0760.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Make room for the bird run Thanksgiving morning 2013. </div>
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It was fun to have these two (plus Courtney, Clara and Jacob) home for Thanksgiving. Lesa and I had accepted the fact that we'd never have family join us in Charleston for Thanksgiving but with Ben and Courtney living in Hunstville and Erin getting engaged to a Chicago boy, it happened.</div>
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And, does did all this happen...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnP16FYZ9yIMGnlXtjGF4h3Q_DNBe96hy_b6yKmSbEIogu5tzlJlcP6l-57lgBpk0ETfDDdfhIyom9_Lm9kGTVcFEZ46nKUDc0gvi0IBHLHYjQ-4obtRYGosIp1Z0D0LMl_EbD/s1600/IMG_0761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnP16FYZ9yIMGnlXtjGF4h3Q_DNBe96hy_b6yKmSbEIogu5tzlJlcP6l-57lgBpk0ETfDDdfhIyom9_Lm9kGTVcFEZ46nKUDc0gvi0IBHLHYjQ-4obtRYGosIp1Z0D0LMl_EbD/s320/IMG_0761.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Feast of Thanksgiving</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJmKyev_RrFxd1MTCn7oTLYvs6gltmlYZKLkKzLgYy4PXYxMUkfHawHwGxAHQgru9hChHJNTFdKLuRKUetIkfSA0b3Vhsv38RJpve7cHtx5I9utbyqIMHvP6ydi0Wgo2naLPcj/s1600/IMG_0780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJmKyev_RrFxd1MTCn7oTLYvs6gltmlYZKLkKzLgYy4PXYxMUkfHawHwGxAHQgru9hChHJNTFdKLuRKUetIkfSA0b3Vhsv38RJpve7cHtx5I9utbyqIMHvP6ydi0Wgo2naLPcj/s320/IMG_0780.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Rocket Launch</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjozC9cBeT3k3lsyrluj0DvG9YKScdQ_8m_25P56D0nDZhc-97d2B9JVfEHA1uUJNTow65AKROzc5ZyIta8d0HKzT8QfPy19czYfeCggCeDRqca90a6rZky22UYtr2krsBHdpYI/s1600/IMG_0784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjozC9cBeT3k3lsyrluj0DvG9YKScdQ_8m_25P56D0nDZhc-97d2B9JVfEHA1uUJNTow65AKROzc5ZyIta8d0HKzT8QfPy19czYfeCggCeDRqca90a6rZky22UYtr2krsBHdpYI/s320/IMG_0784.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Cookies!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxP63z5VdfHQbmcJ7Pr9MziGfAQZfpIeuObocNxgui39toWijvl5kBPbB_f8F6CFUUjFT7l3QQvIDkn-Cx65ZjWPTTSMszNDwBeIjPtEYakSqLGVY_R8vT0v1-8F53_UAXyXX/s1600/IMG_0794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxP63z5VdfHQbmcJ7Pr9MziGfAQZfpIeuObocNxgui39toWijvl5kBPbB_f8F6CFUUjFT7l3QQvIDkn-Cx65ZjWPTTSMszNDwBeIjPtEYakSqLGVY_R8vT0v1-8F53_UAXyXX/s320/IMG_0794.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Hanging out.</div>
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But, this will not happen.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3m7b98vu1wpVLQbjtRploeAvBB8YNLQHUrDkt-7zoYrnmMxfAmmD86haNkcS6qO0z8PJ0NugLCCo1QSpWofnM0C1RzEnEOCb13LoDNLDvG8EWBATp1WpInw7pQ_V2hfRwtVTC/s1600/Tecumseh+2013+cancelled.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3m7b98vu1wpVLQbjtRploeAvBB8YNLQHUrDkt-7zoYrnmMxfAmmD86haNkcS6qO0z8PJ0NugLCCo1QSpWofnM0C1RzEnEOCb13LoDNLDvG8EWBATp1WpInw7pQ_V2hfRwtVTC/s320/Tecumseh+2013+cancelled.png" width="280" /></a></div>
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The 2013 Tecumseh Marathon has been cancelled. I registered for it but due to lack of recent training, the weather, and distance I wasn't planning on running it anyway. But, if they reschedule it...maybe!</div>
<br />Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-81054416149964097402013-11-14T16:46:00.001-06:002013-11-14T16:46:58.445-06:00My Morning Run. First Snow.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZUeCPiCzTjZMuIy4KojD49SWHvUpikkgxVgpTpKNOyQpLW4uB_HsNJHHButPKO4_bHK5Jxe5-9_QAcV-LoCjk2h4eaQSqD0OPS6qtkF3_J4xU-TPGDikqmbZb_1mO2h8taI9k/s640/blogger-image-426610710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZUeCPiCzTjZMuIy4KojD49SWHvUpikkgxVgpTpKNOyQpLW4uB_HsNJHHButPKO4_bHK5Jxe5-9_QAcV-LoCjk2h4eaQSqD0OPS6qtkF3_J4xU-TPGDikqmbZb_1mO2h8taI9k/s640/blogger-image-426610710.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-9p6cKjQVAGKKJVJSE47VY_hBcBs7JEWBK1qyJQUv5_G8pUL4M9wbS3RsGB8KIdJBlZfGvuSXfitr98CWO-xD-IvaZnXlng_RoaTk0fmlPMWYJ19uC_7VoeKYngmHpDMAwguU/s640/blogger-image-633567187.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-9p6cKjQVAGKKJVJSE47VY_hBcBs7JEWBK1qyJQUv5_G8pUL4M9wbS3RsGB8KIdJBlZfGvuSXfitr98CWO-xD-IvaZnXlng_RoaTk0fmlPMWYJ19uC_7VoeKYngmHpDMAwguU/s640/blogger-image-633567187.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzsx-xjvwwU_2ORzvUjhbozf0Y7dDMcUZ8jPWMYeOXDrwrk0TYOrQJS7L-Ov0FH3PLyAwCWNhqd644BYeSyVsb1q8y_EEYLz46Qd6wWN41nkt9-KnjwVIt-txCKSvlY-_olH0C/s640/blogger-image-686086486.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzsx-xjvwwU_2ORzvUjhbozf0Y7dDMcUZ8jPWMYeOXDrwrk0TYOrQJS7L-Ov0FH3PLyAwCWNhqd644BYeSyVsb1q8y_EEYLz46Qd6wWN41nkt9-KnjwVIt-txCKSvlY-_olH0C/s640/blogger-image-686086486.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPNpPo1DiQpzKj2k3JjFpl2MAcyQ1GSkxrl4jMg7WowLIpHlPGjH3QR9kvRpGdb1MPUEtiravOWiySbd-NdYXabvbibofT3y3uuixweZDjIMEGEhoGsZRFTJvDxX2t_Yk6n0q7/s640/blogger-image--802922113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPNpPo1DiQpzKj2k3JjFpl2MAcyQ1GSkxrl4jMg7WowLIpHlPGjH3QR9kvRpGdb1MPUEtiravOWiySbd-NdYXabvbibofT3y3uuixweZDjIMEGEhoGsZRFTJvDxX2t_Yk6n0q7/s640/blogger-image--802922113.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div>Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-57987343348352197982013-11-09T12:51:00.000-06:002013-11-09T12:51:22.362-06:00My Morning Run. 11 miles, 5 hills, 2 quivering quads.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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South of Charleston just past Kickapoo Church</div>
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At the top of hill three.</div>
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<br />Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-14889970447891234042013-10-30T20:01:00.001-05:002013-10-30T20:01:24.245-05:00My Morning Run. I Run For Days Like This<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sidewalk in just west of Buzzard Hall</div>
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South entrance to Blair Hall</div>
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Old Main in pink</div>
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Scenes like this are my reward</div>
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I run EIU</div>
<br />Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-1049847212586414852013-10-26T21:21:00.001-05:002013-10-26T21:36:29.814-05:00Our Afternoon Ride<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
So Lesa and I drove to Effingham to go for a bike ride today. It was a pretty day. Windy, but pretty. The fall colors weren't as vibrant as we would have liked but it's fall so we'll take it over summer. </div>
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This is the north end of the trail. We actually started in the middle and road up to this point.</div>
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Nice smooth cement path the entire way.</div>
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Local organizations had stuffed "people" along part of the trail. I don't know if this was from a Cubs fan or a Cardinal fan? But, Go Cubs!</div>
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The End.</div>
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Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-78727288790604977252013-10-26T21:20:00.001-05:002013-10-26T21:34:45.945-05:00My Morning Run. Trimmed down, not me.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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Old train station. I think I'll buy it and turn it into a Mexican cafe.</div>
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Brush, bushes and some trees removed from the sides of the bike trail. No more nature stops along here. </div>
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Trimmed trail. </div>
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Fox News lives here!</div>
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"You can't fix stupid". Okay, but what can you do for narrow minded ignorance?</div>
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View from the deck during cool down. Autumn is coming!</div>
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Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-7887070440805391312013-10-11T11:01:00.000-05:002013-10-26T21:19:34.957-05:00My Morning Run. Fall Break.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
No classes today because of fall break? I think I'll go for a run. </div>
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"Little Pink Houses" - John Courage Mellencamp</div>
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<br />Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-20020789052418844232013-10-11T10:35:00.002-05:002013-10-28T07:11:54.946-05:00I Run Because My Introvert Is Greater Than My Extrovert<br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Back in August, the Huffington Post listed 23 signs your </span></span>secretly<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"> an introvert. I think these 10 apply to me. Among other things, I think running helps me with numbers 5 and number 8.</span></span></div>
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<li style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;"><strong style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;">I find small talk incredibly cumbersome. </strong>(I’m fine, the family is fine and the weather really isn’t that bad)</li>
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<strong style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;">Networking makes me feel like a phony. </strong>(Why do I even have a Linkin account?)</div>
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<strong style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;">Downtime doesn’t feel unproductive to me. </strong></div>
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<strong style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;">Giving a talk in front of 500 people is less stressful than having to mingle with those people afterwards. </strong>(So true!)</div>
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<strong style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;">I start to shut down after you’ve been social for too long.</strong></div>
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<strong style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;">I’d rather be an expert at one thing than try to do everything. </strong>(If only I was an expert at one thing…)</div>
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<strong style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;">I actively avoid any shows that might involve audience participation.</strong>(It makes my skin crawl just thinking about it)</div>
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<strong style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;">I have a constantly running inner monologue. </strong>(So I like talking to myself.)</div>
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<strong style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;">I look at the big picture.</strong></div>
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<li style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;"><strong style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: none 0px;">I’m a writer. </strong>(Or, I wish so)</li>
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Not all these apply to me but some are spot on.</div>
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Jakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14230163516023465639noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7861375.post-81445193889203818772013-10-10T07:23:00.001-05:002013-10-10T12:43:11.865-05:00My Morning Run. Sunrise in Autumn.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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