#361:Gotta Love Running in the Cool

61 degrees. 4.06/46:31. 11:27/mile. 12:21 PM. Arboretum Loop. Calibration run for Pegasus after nike+ fail. No breaks. Splits: 11:33, 11:13. Break to change into Adidas. No Breaks. Splits: 11:11, 10:15. Feeling fantastic for 12 miles on Saturday.

Memorial for the victims of ConAir
Flight 5181 in the UK Arboretum.

I ran in two legs today because something went screwy with my Nike+ wrist pod and I had to re-calibrate both sensors so I had to change shoes. That started out as a hassle, but turned into a fine run.

Oh, but I love running in the autumn mist. It has been cool and damp here for days. Hard to believe it was so blistering hot for last Saturday's 5K. Today, I did 4 miles in the cool at the Arboretum, and never felt so strong. It's as if all those 85 degree runs in July and August are starting to pay off.

On Saturday, I'm going to try using mileage instead of time to measure my breaks. I'll walk a minute every mile. I've started wearing my heart monitor with my sportsband, and just can't cope with the thought of running in three watches. Using distance instead of time  for breaks might be a good solution.

I have a confession to make. I chased a young girl in the park today. She passed me shortly after I changed shoes, and drifted away through the trees. I didn't think much about her since I was doing a calibration run and just trying to keep a steady pace. About 3/4 of the way through my second time around the park, I saw her pony tail bobbing up ahead. Either she was slowing down, or I was speeding up. "Great," I thought, "now I'm going to have to follow her all the way back to the parking lot." Just then, we crested a hill, and I felt my stride open up. I've talked about that feeling before, where you feel like you're barely touching the ground and your limbs seem to be liquid? We'll that's what happened. I glanced at my watch and I was running 9 :20/mile. That's very fast for me. And I wasn't slowing down. I flowed down the hill, caught her on the bridge, and pulled away up the other side of the hollow toward home. I've never felt so strong and fast, not because I out ran a co-ed, but because I went looking for something extra inside me, and it was there. What a great thing to learn about yourself. What a great run!

I got a pair of Nike+ Pegasus in the mail today from ebay. Spent about $25. They need a little glue near the toe, but otherwise look fine, a lot fresher than either pair I've been working in. I'm hoping they can get me through the race, then I can start hassling Santa for some shoes for 2011. I'll try them out on my next short run, maybe Monday's recovery jog.

One for the Five passed the $1000 mark this weekend, so I raised the goal to $2000. We're at $1200 already. Use the link to get on board. We're building a great team. Be one of us!

Peace,
Pennsy

#360: Sabbath Run: Eyes Up, Chest Up

72 Degrees. 3.49mi/40:19. 8:17 AM.  Pegasus. Intervals: 1:00/mile. Splits:11:35, 11:34, 11:20. 62% humidity.

Diffused dawn glows in the bedroom curtains,
Squinting, I check the clock,
7 AM,
Late,
I am alone.

In the peaceful kitchen, she washes the dishes,
Sunday morning coffee brewing by the stove,
The fragrance wraps my face in its hands, and kisses me good morning.

Shorts, socks, shoes, shirt,
The full armor
Harder to skip the run once you're dressed for it.

I pad out to the kitchen,
Eyes up, chest up,
Drawn by the aroma of freshly ground beans,
And the promise of a good morning kiss.

French roast, granola, yogurt, blackberries,
Breaking the fast on a Sabbath morning,
Smiling silently from across the room as she reads the news,
And the dogs play tug of war on the couch.

Bowl empty,
Cup empty,
One more kiss for luck, and out the door.

The air is cool,
Cooler than it has been for many days,
But thick, somehow,
The damp seems to press against me as I walk through it,
Resisting me like a swimmer,
Just enough to remind me that it's there.

Jog a little, walk a little
The joints lubricating themselves
The blood flowing to the big muscles,
The butt, the thighs,
My ankles swing free and start to run,
The Papillons on the corner yap through the fence at me as I start my wrist watch,

And suddenly,

I've got all the time in the world.

An elderly walker smiles as we pass,
Exchanging proud good mornings,
All those drawn curtains are sleepy folks,
Missing this steely, sweaty morning.

The hills rise and fall quietly here,
Easy climbs up, gentle rolls down,
Rhythm of the land. rhythm of the feet.
Music of breath draws me forward into the morning.

Slowly, slowly,
All the first mile, I'm still getting warm,
Landing softly on the foot,
Swinging the arm smooth, fingers lightly furled,
Eyes up, chest up,
Like a winter engine pumping cold oil over shafts and valves,
Coming slowly to life,
Slowly, slowly.

A handful of golden leaves crunch underfoot,
The promise of Autumn,
On a late summer morning,
A sound I haven't heard before,
One I'll be hearing differently from now on.

From behind, a young runner in blue breezes past on the grass,
Unusual,
He does not greet me as he glides by,
His mind elsewhere,
The soles of his shoes wink at me till he crests the hill,
And is gone,
Untempted, I hold my pace.

Further along, a slower runner trudges around the corner and slips in ahead of me,
He is working hard, much harder than the boy in blue,
He hears me crunching behind him, and turns his shoulders to see who is following,
Just an old Fat Man,
Shamed, he presses his tempo and slowly floats away during my next walk break.

A handsome couple greets me as I move from sidewalk to street,
She smiles sweetly, he hails me loudly,
Half cheery neighbor welcoming the day,
Half old lion warning off a stranger,
His pride is safe from me this morning,
I "Good Morning" them and return to the sound of my run.

One last walk break, then the press for home,
Ignoring the young men with their tireless legs,
Ignoring time, distance, and pace
I race against myself, a Fat Man running for his life,
Picking up the tempo as the familiar hills and curves start to roll toward home.

No need for the numbers on my wrist,
My heart beats out the minutes,
My legs are the pendulum,
Tick-tocking the seconds to that tree, the next hydrant, another block;
Faster, faster, holding my form,
Eyes up, chest up,
Skipping across the asphalt like a flat rock on a calm lake,
Breath, two, three, Breath, Step, Breathe, two, three, Breathe, Step,
The rhythm of the morning, the music of the run,

Around a corner,
Breathing hard,
One more light post,
One more driveway,
Don't quit yet,
One more hill.

At the crosswalk, I stop my watch.
Shirt soaked,
Shorts sticking,
I squeeze the sweat out of my headband,
Into a warm, salty puddle on the concrete.

Walk it out, cool it down, check the time,
Not bad.
Not a bad way to start a holy day.
Not a bad way to remember the Sabbath.

The dogs greet me at the gate,
Inside, she is just coming out of the bathroom,
Soft and clean, I blow her a sweaty kiss,
She towels off to dress for church,
As I hang my clothes on the porch to dry.

Later, after the sermon, we exchange Peace,
Kissing softly, leaving me the taste of her lipstick,
I turn to Christus Rex,
Hanging above me in his crown,
No more nails, just royal robes and a gentle smile,
Eyes up, chest up,

Peace,

Pennsy

With thanks to Antonio Brown @antoniobrown84

359: Body Weight Workout, and Cheering for Team Mates

Body Weight 60X60s	Set 1	Set 2	Set 3	Total Reps
Squat	28	36	27	91
Lunge Lt	24	25	24	73
Lunge Rt	17	20	18	55
Row, Gr Band	38	43	45	126
Push up, Mod	40	30	24	94
Crunch	33	35	31	99
Bench Dips	18	20	20	58

HTML Tables

I am stuck at a weight plateau. I've been at 263 for weeks now. It doesn't make much sense to me, since I'm running consistently, and eating pretty well, I think. Melissa from the Y suggested that I workout more often and mix up my program and diet to shock my system out of balance. I've decided to eat more, smaller meals, and spend more time on strength training, especially body-weight training at home.

Today, I tried a workout based on one of the beginner plans from The New Rules of Lifting. The author, Lou Schuler suggests that you really should master these moves with body weight before you get too serious about weight lifting with them. Makes sense. Not much point in bench pressing 75 pounds when you can't even do a push up yet. I've been doing most of these for some time, now, but I want to come up with a workout I can do at home with the equipment I have on hand: my body; a yoga mat, straps, and blocks; some resistance tubes; a big yellow inflatable ball; and a couple of those springy things that are supposed to give you a grip of steel and forearms like Popeye. I wanted to challenge myself, so rather than setting a number of reps to complete, I set 1 minute intervals on my watch and tried to see how many reps I could complete in that period of time. I moved down the circuit, completing one set of each exercise, with one minute to rest between sets. When I finished the last exercise, (Dips, in this case) I took a two minute rest, then went back up to the beginning again. The whole workout took 45 minutes and set a bench mark I can use to compete with myself. I'll try to better these totals next time.


I learned one surprising thing. My balance is much better when I lunge with my left leg than it is when I put my right leg forward. I have a feeling this has something to do with the way I'm using my upper body. It seems to improve when I clench my butt, but I can also get a lot more reps out with my left leg. I'll talk to the trainers at the Y on Wednesday and see what they think.


One thing that did not surprise me is that my upper body is weak. I still have to do those modified push ups with my knees down on the floor, and I wasn't able to do bench dips for the full 60 seconds at all. Some of this is because of my weakened shoulder, but I've never been very macho in my arms and chest. Building strength and endurance up top will help my running by helping me to maintain my form when I start to fatigue, so it's valuable to my training. Plus, big bulging arms will make me even more arousing to Mrs P. 

Pennsy, Pam, Clare, Ladonna, Shelia,
Lynne, Jake, and Melissa

I went to a 5K today. I didn't run, but I cheered on some good friends. Most of my group from LIVESTRONG at the YMCA ran in the race. I am recovering from yesterday's long run, so I didn't join them on the course, but I did cheer them on at the start and the finish. In between, Jake, Clare, and I walked a couple of laps around the dog park. One of my team mates is training to run the LIVESTRONG half-marathon in Austin next spring, so she ran and she finished before the rest of the group who were walking. She did great, and looked fantastic after a hard, HOT 3.1 miles. The rest of the team finished together, including Coach Melissa. They walked across the finish line proudly in their black and yellow "Survivor" tee-shirts. We all posed for this sweaty photo after the race. I am really coming to love these people. We are each on our own journey, but we share this victory: cancer tried to take us, and we wouldn't go. A lot of people lose that battle. We are the lucky ones. And we are determined to pass our message of hope and health on to as many people as will listen. We aren't just surviving. We're LIVING STRONG! And so can YOU!


Peace,
Pennsy

Pennsy and his ugly friend from Markey

The One for the Five project is going great! More than $650 raised as of this writing. You can help sponsor my first half-marathon, and support the work of the Markey Cancer Center by clicking this link, or by handing me a check made out to the Markey Cancer Center. You write the check. I'll run the miles!

#358: Starting the climb towards $1000 and 13.1 miles

One for the Five is going great! We're almost half-way to our $1000 goal, with 53 days to go. Here's a link, just in case you don't know the story of The Five, We were all diagnosed with cancer last spring. Four of us are gone, but I am left to continue the battle. You can join me by sponsoring my run in the Iron Horse Half-marathon, my first 13.1 mile race. Just click this link to make a contribution. You write the check, I'll run the miles.

And the miles are starting to add up. I've been averaging 15 miles a week, and that number will start climbing as the October 23rd race day approaches. Yesterday, I ran intervals for a couple of miles. One minute rest, one minute hard. Really hard. These workouts are designed to build strength and get your legs used to turning over quickly. It worked. I actually peaked at 7:00/mile. Of course, that was down-hill and only lasted a very short time. This kind of a run wears you out, and I confess, I wasn't much good in the gym yesterday. I really enjoyed the flexibility cool-down at the end of the day, though.

Sweating on Mum after the 2011 Midsummer Night's Run

I'm doing my part. So jump over to Crowdrise and pitch in. Every cancer fighter should get a chance at a night like this...

Peace,

Pennsy

#357: Recovery and Ramping Up the Miles

There's something strange about the idea of running to recover from a run. They tell me it's smart to get moving again. Breaks up the lactic acid or something. So, I gave it a shot. Here's today's journal entry.

60 degrees. 3.58 mi/40:37 7:08 AM. Adidas. No Walk Breaks. Splits: 11:43, 11:28, 11:07. Recovery run. Slight soreness inside right ilium during warm up. Worked its way out. Feels fine now.

The hip bone's connected to the...

Just showing off with the ilium thing. I don't remember much from Mr. McGregor's high school biology class, so when one of those anatomy names floats up out of the fog between my ears, I like to throw it in. Sort of like saying gastrocnemius instead of calf. These little indulgences help me feel like I'm still mentally functional. What I meant was that I had a little soreness on the inside of my right hip bone, but since hip bones are a relatively new phenomenon on my body, I think I should be able to call them whatever I want. No matter how much my spell checker complains about it.

Not actually Pennsy

This morning's run was not pastoral like Saturday's long one, but it is lovely on the streets Rat 7:00 in the morning, especially when the big clock in front of the bank says it's 60 degrees. I decided to go slow today, just to get my heart pumping and to keep up the momentum from the weekend. At the last minute I took off my watch, the one that beeps my time intervals. I would take my breaks when I felt like it, or maybe not at all. I had a short warm up, then started jogging at the corner where a crossing guard, a retired-looking fellow with orange gloves and vest was placing cones at the cross walks, preparing for the kids to arrive at our neighborhood elementary school. I wished him a good morning, and he smiled and waved a day-glo colored hand at me. It reminded me that I've got to get one of those reflective vest thingees before the mornings get much darker. Next paycheck. After a couple of blocks at an easy pace, I decided to go without walk breaks, just to see if I could maintain a tempo. I felt so good after two miles that I trotted through another mile and a half. Easy pace, quiet breath. No pressing. No pushing. Just gently gliding along. Smooth up the hills, coast down the other side. When I finished, the crossing guard was just picking up his cones and finishing his work for the morning.

"Get 'em all in safe and sound?" I called from across the street.

"Oh, yeah!" he answered with a smile. Something tells me we're going to be seeing a lot of each other.

Can't wait to wear this tee-shirt

I'm going to try increasing my mileage by switching to an every-other day schedule. The cooler mornings make running feel even better, and they also remind me that October and the Iron Horse Half-marathon are around the corner. My only goals are to finish, and to maintain that minimum 14:00/mile pace so I don't wash out. I really don't think that's going to be a problem as long as I keep training and stay healthy.

I have some chores to do around the house this morning, then it's off to the gym for LIVESTRONG at the YMCA in the afternoon. Melissa tried to kill us with a brutal spinning class on Wednesday. There's no telling what evil her imagination has conjured up since then. I have learned that crying for mercy is useless. She doesn't even respond to guilt: "Don't you know we are all battling a fatal illness?" The best thing to do is just shut up, listen to the music, and keep your feet moving. Just like hitting yourself in the head with a hammer... it feels so good when you stop.

Peace,
Pennsy

#356: A Running Dream Come True

I have had a recurring dream about running. It's early morning. the mist is just burning off the Bluegrass. In my ears are the sounds of birds and cicadas. My feet pat the blacktop road as I glide between the trees and the plank fences that line the horse farms. My breath comes steady and easy as the sun warms my face. I've had that dream quite a few times. I had it while I was sick. I had it when I was walking the track over the basketball court at the gym. I had it the day I ran my first mile after treatment. I had it after I ran my first 10K. And this morning, I lived it.

I met with four other runners at 7:30 in the parking lot of a church just east of town. The sun was coming up behind the corn field that grows behind the church. We had all met one another on Twitter and Facebook, but I had never seen any of them before. We chatted comfortably as we compared water-bottles and I silently noted that they were all young enough to be my children. I realized that I wasn't going to be running with this group. I was going to be running behind them.The parking lot was full of empty cars. There were a lot of runners already out on the road.

Before long, runners started coming up the drive. They had started about an hour before. Some even earlier. The toughest of them had already run 10 miles. They were going to lead us out for another 10. What amazing, generous people. They had left water and sports drinks in ice filled buckets along the route, and there was a large cooler there in the parking lot. The early morning runners came in, changed their shirts, exchanged greetings and introductions, and we were on our way. How nice was the run?



My God, but I love my Kentucky. It wasn't long before the strong runners pulled away over the next hill and I trotted along for a short while with two of my fellow newbies. After about a mile, I was feeling pretty good, so I pulled ahead and ran alone. Such breathtaking country. I saw thoroughbreds waking up in the pastures. A heron viewed his domain from atop a fence post that stood inexplicably alone in the middle of a bluegrass field. Birds called to me from the trees and bugs sang in the grass as I trotted past. I thanked God for the chance to run this road. For letting me live long enough to run it. For letting me live in a place where such a place was a fifteen minute drive from my bed. Every runner should have a chance to have a run like this.

One of my fellow runners blogged about the trip from her perspective. Krissie and Erin stopped to smell the clover more than I did, but they still managed to catch and pass me in the last mile. I had managed my strength badly, and by 8.3 miles, I was spent. I think I walked more than I ran those last two miles, but I was running at the end, about 20 seconds behind the two ladies I had imagined as my daughters two hours ago. I was irrationally proud of their strong finish. I've always lived with one foot in my fantasy world anyway. Might as well gloat about my imaginary kids.

One of the experienced runners, Eric recognized me from my internet posts. "You're a cancer survivor, right?" "That's right," I answered. "That's pretty cool." "It sure is." This morning, it is especially cool.

I came home exhausted. Mrs P was sitting in the big chair in the den, enjoying the peace and quiet. I went out to the porch to put my soaking clothes on the drying rack. When I pulled my socks off, I saw two big blisters on the fourth toe on each foot. The blisters were about the size of the end of my pinky finger, near the top, outside surface of the toe, just past the end of the little piggy that cries "wee, wee, wee!" They hadn't broken and didn't hurt at all. I didn't know they were there till I saw them. I will take good care of them, and hope a pair of funny little callouses form. I like the kind of blister that doesn't hurt.

Yes, I made some mistakes this morning. I started out too fast. I wanted to run off on my own, and missed a chance to pet a horse's nose. I pushed too hard on the climbs and burned out before I could complete the run. But I started. And I finished. And in between, I traveled through a dream. Oh, thank God for such a place, such a day, such a life.

Peace,
Pennsy

#355: Under the Weights, In the Water, and On the Boards

For most of my life, "muscle confusion" meant muscles asking, "hey, why are we moving all of a sudden?" Now, that I'm running, my muscles are more likely to ask, "hey, are you just going to sit there typing all day?"

Muscle confusion is a popular trend in training based on the principle that your body adapts very quickly to stress. If you do the same exercise over and over, your body learns to perform it more efficiently, and it has less and less of an effect on your growth. Eventually, you hit the dreaded "plateau" where you're doing everything right - eating clean, running long, sleeping deep, lifting heavy - but you don't lose weight, you don't get any faster, and you can't pull that new, heavier dead lift. You're stuck. How to get unstuck? Try cross training.

That's what they tell me, anyway.

Elliptical trainer

Since starting LIVESTRONG at the YMCA, I've been doing all kinds of cool stuff. The trainers have me doing cardio on the elliptical machine. That's cool, because it works my legs in a very different way than running does, and gives me a workout without interfering with the recovery day between runs that is so important to my old joints. I liked the machines at my first gym, Promatx, because they seemed to have a nice long stride that fit my legs. Many of the other machines I've tried seem to have shorter steps that make it a little harder for me to keep my balance. It took me a while to find a setting that let me work the foot pads without bumping up and down, but I think I've finally got it down. The elliptical is a funny machine. It's easy to fake it... lots of people watch TV or even read while they're working out. On the other hand, if you set an aggressive goal like maintaining a high pace or heart rate, you can really break a good sweat on the thing without banging your knees and hips. Sure, I'd rather  be running, but working those big muscles in the legs and butt, as well as the big one inside your chest, can only help when it's time to hit the road again.

Chest Press machine

I've never been a big fan of the weight machines, I find them restrictive and a little boring compared to free weights. On the other hand, when a group is training together, like we do, it's a lot easier for the trainers if we're all on machines that are easy to teach, easy to execute, and easy to adjust. Carrie and Melissa, our trainers at the Y, have designed a program for me that emphasizes balance between upper and lower body. My legs are pretty strong thanks to the running and the amount of weight they got used to carrying around on a daily basis for so many years. My upper body is much weaker. During radiation, I lost a lot of muscle mass in my shoulders and chest. I've never been very macho at the pull-ups/dips/push-ups stuff anyway. Hard for those little arms to haul that great big bottom around. The other thing that wants attention in my upper body workouts is my right shoulder. The nerves and muscle the docs had to remove around my tumor has given me a very limited range of motion in that joint. We're working very gently with very light weight to make the muscles that are left stronger so they can compensate for what's missing. It's pretty stiff and sore a lot of the time, but I'm going to keep working on it. I lose a lot of value around the house if I can't reach the top shelves anymore.

Dormont Pool, Dormont PA

Then there's swimming. I haven't been in the pool for a long time.  I remember swimming on a regular basis at Westminster, when we had to pass a swimming class as an all college requirement. From the time I was a child, swimming was considered a skill that everyone was just supposed to have. Not that I ever expected to be adrift at sea, but if I were, I'd be able to cope. I remember reading about JFK's long night swimming miles to save his crew from the PT-109. I'm no Mark Spitz, but were I on Tom Hanks' raft, I could have saved Wilson. We went to Dormont Pool all summer, back when summer actually lasted three months but felt like 10 years. All of us took swimming lessons starting with putting your face in six inches of water and finishing with lifesaving training over at the deep end. Swimming was a given. As I grew older, I swam less and less. I splashed around in the ocean a couple of times. One summer, Jim Ripper and I paddled across Lake Chautauqua. On my first tour with the National Shakespeare Company, we managed to swim in all five great lakes. Huron is surprisingly cold, even in August, by the way. But I've never been a lap swimmer. I found it too tiring and a little bit lonesome. That black line down the middle of the lane was just never enough scenery to hold my interest. Of course there was the biggest obstacle of all. When you're 200 pounds overweight, swimming trunks just aren't your best look.

Bemus Point on Lake Chautauqua, NY

So, there were a lot of things keeping me out of the water, but after a long sweaty workout, that pool at the Y just looked too good. I went to Meijer and found trunks on the clearance rack, then bought myself a pair of those weird little goggles. The good thing about swimming is there is a lot less tempting gear to by. Running culture is full of garments and gadgets that sneak up on you, once you're hooked on a sport that is only supposed to require a tee-shirt and sneakers. I already have a watch to count laps, and don't feel the need to wear a little rubber cap, so  my swimming spending was pretty much done. I was ready to give it a try.

I got to the pool about an hour before class. I took my shiny new suit and goggles out of my bag and padded naked to the shower. Even though the pool is chlorinated enough to take coffee stains out of a white shirt, it just seems like common courtesy to me to rinse off before jumping in. I pulled my trunks on and tightened the drawstring, then put the black goggle thingies over my forehead like I'd seen them do in the Olympics. I realized that I had never worn these things in my life, and wondered how stupid and bug-eyed I looked. Then came the few steps to the door, and out onto the tile pool deck.

Fat Man Swimming

The pool is inside, but there are huge windows on one end of the room. You can see the sun and the grass. The Legacy trail crossed at the far side of the field, so you can see runners and bikers knocking out miles in the sun. The pool is 25 meters long, and during the afternoon there are two lanes designated for lap swimming. The rest of the pool is for summer camp kids who laugh and splash and dunk each other: stuff kids have been doing in the water ever since our ancestors crawled out of it, I guess. I put my goggles over my eyes, jumped into the shallow end and got three surprises. First, the water is warm. Like bath-water warm. Those big windows produce a greenhouse effect that I hope is as effective in the winter as it is now.Then there was the depth. It's only three feet deep. Sure, the water slows you down, but you're still jumping down onto a concrete surface in your bare feet. It's a little jarring. Finally, there were those goggles. Remember how afraid I was that I might look foolish in them? That issue was settled when I splashed into the water and they flew up off my face, twisting crazily around my head. I looked around to make sure nobody saw how stupid I was, and then pulled the little cups back over my eyes. Then I took a deep breath, turned my back to the side, and pushed off down the lane.

I tried out all the strokes I learned as a kid. The breast stroke was always my favorite. I swam it smoothly and slowly, pleased with the way my body slid through the water. The elementary backstroke was probably the second one that my dad taught me, and I always liked it because you could see the sky while you swam. The side-stroke and the front and back crawl strokes were not so successful. They all require a degree of shoulder rotation that I just don't have anymore. So I stuck with the wide, underwater arm strokes. Nobody is going to confuse me with a competitive swimmer, but I do go forward instead of downward, so that's a plus. As I grew more comfortable in the water, I made my strokes a little longer, pulled the water a little harder. I could feel my sides and back working to move me along. Before I knew it, I had  been swimming for 20 minutes. My heart is strong, my breath was even, and my muscles felt energized. I popped into the sauna for a couple minutes, then went back to the locker room. After spinning the water out of my suit at the extractor, I rinsed some of the chlorine off in the shower and padded back to my locker. How about that? I just went swimming!

I think it's a great way to train between runs. Swimming is the lowest impact exercise I can imagine, and there's no question that it's a full body workout. You don't sweat. You don't get blisters. I won't say I enjoy it as much as a run in the woods, but I do like the sound of the water as I move along through it. It's good to be back in the water in a body that can actually move through it without gasping for air.

Tonight, I'm doing the Midsummer Night's Run 5K downtown. I'll be running with some friends, which will be a new experience for me. I'm usually a loner. The forecast is for fairly mild temperatures today, which means less than 100 degrees lately. It should be pretty pleasant by the time the gun fires at 8:30. Mrs P will be there, and Mum is going to see me run for the first time... first time ever, I think. I don't usually think about spectators when I run, but knowing she'll be there cheering me on makes this one kind of special. Not going for any PR tonight. Just a nice run with some nice folks.

Click the poster for info and tickets

My cast moved today's rehearsal so I could get out in time to run. They are so generous and kind to me. It just makes me want to work that much harder. I know I promised to blog more about the rehearsal process, but I've been pretty distracted lately. I'll try to fill in the blanks in the next few days, but in the meantime, just know that End Days is going great. The show is dangerously close to being really special. Actors' Guild's last show was completely sold out before opening night. Don't get closed out of this one. I hope you'll come see it if you're near Lexington.

Peace,
Pennsy