DON'T TAKE YOURSELF SO DAMN SERIOUS!

I'm a creature of habit. I tell myself I'm all about new things and that I just go with the flow. But the truth is I need my routine. Back in July I told myself I was going to run right on through the vacation. I wasn't going to let a change in routine sabatoge my running schedule. Well sabatoge it did. I haven't run a day since the second week of July!

Until yesterday! I got up early (as usual), updated my training schedule, put on my shoes and out the door I went. An easy 3 miler back on the same trails that had been my sanctuary, of sorts, for the past 3 years. It felt good to be back on the trails, seeing the turkey, waiting for the Mississippi Kites to come swooping down on my head (I escaped without incident!)

Now I'm not going to bore you with the same drivel week after week like last time. Don't get me wrong last year was great, but who wants to relive last year when there's a whole new day out there. We've got a whole new mission before us. A whole new perspective. I'm hoping you'll see and share with me this new found perspective this time around. Wait a minute...this time around...it's like I'm still comparing things to last time around. There is no first time or last time...just time.

Let's make the most of it.

To be young again...back in the day when stuff didn't matter. Back in the day when your cares were of a more relaxed variety. Or maybe of no variety at all. Yes, those were the days.

You took one day at a time. Didn't sweat the small stuff...heck didn't sweat any size of stuff at all. Didn't even know there was a big picture.

Well, lately durning my runs I find myself thinking back to those days. Back to the wonder years where I was invincible. Back in the day when I was on the high school track team.

High school was a fun time for me and the track team was a place where I belonged. I wouldn't say I excelled in track, or was even any good, but I just kind of fit in. It feels good to just fit in.

I was on the distance team and my specialty was the two mile run. Now I wasn't the fastest distance guy on the team by a stretch, but the coach had a way of putting runners where they did the best and I became the two mile runner for the team. For years I believed that I was THE man for the two mile run. However, years later, seeing things more clearly (at times), I realize that nobody else was stupid enough to want to run the two mile and I wasn't good enough to run anything else. Ah, the precious naivite' of youth.

Well, as you might imagine, during practice I wasn't what you'd call one of the front runners. I was always a bit behind the other distance guys. But I was part of the group, one of the guys. THE two miler for the team.

Now the distance guys always ran more mileage than anyone else...that just stands to reason. And the sprinters, while a great bunch of guys, were always ribbing us about how we always had to run more than the others. So when the sprinters gave me the nickname "Coyote", I wore the name with great pride. We would run around the track and on our routes and the sprinters would call out, "Hey Coyote!" I would smile and wave from the back of the pack and keep on going. I even had a t-shirt made with my new nickname emblazoned on the back. Yep, I was really fitting in. After all, I was THE two miler of the team.

But the other day while on a long run it hit me. Coyote, as in Wiley Coyote. As in beep! beep! the Roadrunner Coyote. As in, try as he may, he can never catch the roadrunner. Always behind, always chasing, but never catching. Could this be what the sprinters were referring to. Knowing those guys...probably...no, make that definately!

Well, it's taking me 30 years to catch on to that joke! And a funny one it is! I guess I am always behind! But as the Oklahoma Red Dirt songwriter Bob Childers once wrote, "...You're just an old coyote, but every dog has his day."

Luck, good Karma, right place at the right time, whatever you want to call it. I've got it! Growing up I was blessed with great parents, two wonderful sisters, and good friends. I married the love of my life, who is a beautiful loving wife, wonderful nurturing Mother and has been my support for 24 plus years. I have a great kid who is growing up into a fine young man who loves life.

Heck, even my in-laws a great!

I've got a really good job that I love. I'm fortunate to be just normal enough to have friends who tolerate me....blah blah blah.

As you know, for the last year I've been planning an adventure of sorts. An adventure that will take me 26.2 miles in real life and to places previously unimagined in my own mind. Six months ago I began to put my plan into motion and have documented each of those 26 weeks on the oh so boring pages of this blog.

I've done the training, I've put in the miles, I've went through 3 pairs of shoes, and discovered the virtues of vaseline. I've done the long runs, the easy runs, the tempo runs, and learned about VO2 max (actually I don't know anything about VO2, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn once). And finally, I've done the taper and paid my entry fee.

Did I mention I have a great job that I love? Well it's true. I am so fortunate that I have a good job and that upper management has faith and trust in me and my abilities. I feel fortunate that when work has to be done, I'm on the team that helps get it done. This weekend, of all weekends, work has to be done.

So I won't get to feel the thrill of the 26.2 mile adventure. At least not this weekend. I won't have that story to tell about how I was able to overcome yada yada yada. The good news is... I have today.

In Oklahoma on April 19, 1995, families lost 168 loved ones (some were children). The Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon celebrates those lives.

Me, fortunate? Absolutely.