Union strong

One thing I have to say about Bucky, he has a well-equipped campus union building.

Sweet dreams are made of these

I'm going to drool on it when I'm sleeping tonight, which I shouldn't have any trouble doing after what I'm sure will be a scintillating university IT communicators confab.

Blue socks, nothing but blue socks (OK, and a blue shirt, too)

Perfect morning for the Noblesville Mini half marathon (and best time this year, so far). That's six, and one ahead of schedule. I see beer in my future.

Not cool

What kind of idiot buys a car, nay, orders a car, without AC anyway? Then drives it for 15 years? Oops. Never mind. (We learn from our errors.)

Beard envy

I should have a beard as good as Avishai's, although mine would be white.

Long live(d) the King

The King is never going to be dead at my house, not as long as I'm spinning the platters.

Indoor thunder and lightning

The family that plays together ... and with two drummers and a brother on tenor. You think they don't make some noise!

Beauty brought the beast

I don't know who Susan and Derek have playing this beast tonight, but I'm going to keep an eye on them.

Danced out

I did, however, get a beer (a hoppy Quaff On Brewing Co. wheat) after the Dances with Dirt trail half at Gnaw Bone. No. 5 was a brutally satisfying run. I might have to drink another beer when I get home, heh, heh, heh.

The new abnormal

Covered a breaking story (new Purdue supercomputer built and running in a day) and filed on deadline, which floods my synapses with (mostly) good memories. Now, instead of heading for a bar, I'm heading south to run a half marathon on trails at Gnawbone in the morning. Some things never change, and some things do. Damnit.

At least it's not a clown

Disconcerting can, but a damn tasty IPA.

Lemony

Prune hand from very wet gloves. Race called for lightning, which I still haven't seen. I'm tallying it as a moist 20-mile long run. That's how we make lemonade from lemons. I need a drink. Not lemonade.

But lightening would be nice

Breakfast of champions all laid out. I'm OK having that with a side of incessant rain, but hold the lightning, please.

Close enough

I think I'll be able to see Chick and Herbie playing, and sweating.

Some ivories will be tickled and then some

On tap tomorrow night and I'm giddy. This is going to be so-o-o good.

And free mud, too

Some people pay extra to run in mud, we got it inclus. Lounging after the Allerton trail half marathon this morning. That's four.

Bye, bye old friend, we sure put in some miles together

Good old Echo (L), hopefully as good new Fit (R). And a dude who drives (still) small red cars.

Déjà vu all over again

If Mingus were alive today the song would be called "Palavers of Pence" instead of "Fables of Faubus." "Name me someone who's ridiculous Dannie." Gov. Pence. "Why is he so sick and ridiculous?" He's not ashamed that he signed off on codified discrimination, he's just mad he got called on it. Even the governor of Arkansas (circa 2015) isn't that stupid.

Evidently you skipped the parts where your guy Jesus talks about tolerance

Outstanding! "What happened in Indiana can be described in a tight dozen words: A few Christians made a prejudiced law and their governor pretended they didn't. The good news for my daughter is that the outcry, from within the state and without, from other religious people to politicians and beyond to employers and athletes and celebrities, has been loud and clear. It will follow everyone involved for years. For this much your kids already know: Nobody likes a bully or a liar."

The view is better ahead of the pack

Advice for sportswriters in the AP Stylebook update that arrived in my inbox today, with applicability for writers of all kinds. A team losing a game is not a "disaster." Home runs are homers, not "dingers," "jacks" or "bombs." A player scored 10 straight points, not 10 "unanswered" points. If a football team scores two touchdowns and the opponent doesn't come back, say it "never trailed" rather than "never looked back." In short, avoid hackneyed words and phrases, redundancies and exaggerations. Or put another way, to thine own self be true, will ya?

Spring has sprung, a leak

I never sign up for winter marathons because I don't like running in the cold for hours. After the Circular Logic 26.2 miler today. Oops. Never mind. (It's technically spring anyway.)

All thumbs

I was able to carry all this stuff in one hand and unlock my office with the other because I have opposable thumbs, unlike some cats...Larry.

I must be in the front row

I'm going to see Wayne Shorter in about 15 minutes, and I mean really see him.

Sippin' a brew

DC Brau in a sippy cup to go with Cristina Pato playing the (Galician) bagpipes. I'm pretty damn excited, or lit, or both.

No matter how cold and wet you are...

Soggy but satisfying Rock 'n' Roll DC half marathon this morning. I think it was the socks. That's three.

Golf fast

Heh, heh, heh, new IOSF event. Golf for time as well as score, with a run between holes.

The more things change...

Always treasured the cold cherry soup, smoked goose and red cabbage, not to mention the left-wing politics and this important fact: "One of the things about the Gay Hussar is you can drink and you don’t get chased out."

My winter half in a "warm" place

Fort Yargo, Ga., built in 1793, after the Thrill in the Hills trail half marathon this morning, which started at the fort. That's two. I'd whine about the 30 degree temps and the brief sleet, but it was 2 degrees when I left home yesterday. You get what you get, it's all how you use it.

Chill wind makes you a little loopy

Who's the man who won't cop out when the cold wind ices his snout? He's a bad mo... Shut your mouth! (Helps get you through a frigid long run if you're a little twisted.)

Going long, then talking about it

I had a marvelous run this morning and then spent a wonderful afternoon listening to the great Traci Falbo, and some other people who can run a whole lot farther a whole lot faster than me, offer good advice on ultra running, and now I am going to listen to Count Basie's Big Band at the Jazz Kitchen. Mr. William Basie has actually been playing a date in heaven for some time, but I am sure he and Lester Young are here in spirit. Yeah, I'm weird, that's just the way it is.

Kind of a whiteout, not wipeout, there at the end

The woods were lovely, dark and deep (also muddy and then snowy) but I had miles (13.1 of them) to go before this weird little medal (and, more importantly, bottle opener) was mine for keeps. Eagle Creek Night Winter Trail Half Marathon in the bag. That's one.

Force of habit

Illinois Marathon training always begins the same way, by putting one (cold) foot out the door.

New Year's resolution for 2015

Ask not for victory, ask only for courage. In your pursuit, you bring honor to yourself. But more important, you bring honor to us all. Let's kick some ass in 2015!

Relentless, or at least pretty consistent, forward progress

6 miles at 9 degrees makes an even 1,200 for the year, including 5 half marathons, 2 marathons, a 30-mile ultra and personal best times in the half, 10K and 6-mile. Not a bad year's work.

Krampus Eve

Eagerly awaiting the arrival of Krampus.

Worktime

Going to work.

In the church of Al

Last night, a Swiss jazz trio followed by Dirty Bourbon River Show (the musical bastard child of Gogol Bordello, Man-Man, Tom Waits and a brass band) playing Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club. Not just the song. The whole damn album. Tonight, after warming up with the Hot Club of New Orleans, I felt the need.

Stretch

Freakishly tall people at the supercomputing conference, which just ended, which means the drinking lamp is lit for this dude in Nola!

Good old Flamehead

Oh the humanity, somebody get me a fire extinguisher, or a bucket of water, or a beer. Because I like a to drink a beer or two with my entertainment.

Dreamy

The stuff dreams are made of. Really disturbing dreams.

New Orleans snow flurries

Note to self, when eating beignets, the player's move is to wear the white shirt not the black. (Damn old gold and black color scheme.)

Pass the Louisiana hot sauce, please

Zydeco, followed by red beans and rice and a cold Abita Amber.

Lookin' good E-money

Brushing Ely's tux. I want him to look coiffed when I go to New Orleans in the morning. He doesn't get to go. But every burglar's crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man.

Mr. G went up the hill, and down, and up, and down, and...

-30-

Strange brew

On the road jamming to Lady Gaga's Artpop, followed by Beverly Sills singing Cleopatra in Handel's Julius Caesar, as I drive south to the Kentucky border, intent on running 30 hilly miles in the morning, and suddenly it hits me: I am one strange dude.

Old school, like me

The Marques Carroll Quintet is like straight out of late '50s early '60s hard bop, which is actually when I was meant to be haunting jazz clubs anyway. Then again, I was age 0-6 in the late '50s and early '60s so they probably wouldn't have let me in jazz clubs...even with the beard.

It's the journey, not the destination

I passed the guy at the top of the hill, not working at it mind you, just moving along in rhythm, and I think he really really wanted to pass me back. I didn't have the heart to tell him I ran 8 before I even lined up at the start. End of the Boilermaker Half Saturday. (I ran 1 after, too. 22.1 mile day. And taper.)

The tribe

When I cross paths with some other wayward soul, light strapped on, running against the dark and the rain, I feel all tribal.

Way down hill

Coming down that damn near vertical hill looming over my shoulders at France Park Saturday.

Relentless forward progress

Looking at the daunting week ahead I am keeping in mind the sage words of the great Shalane Flanagan: Let's fuck shit up!

Trail eyes

Lesson learned on the hilly (we even had a couple kind of mountain goaty paths to traverse under cliff faces) rocky and rooty (and sneakily covered by leaves) trails at France Park: racing this stuff is like whitewater canoeing. You've got to keep your eyes aimed downstream to see the obstacles in time to react. Learn something everyday. And I didn't hit the dirt once today.

Nice work if I could get it

If somebody said to me, "Hey, we want to hire you to sit under a clear blue sky, with a nice breeze blowing over you, drink beer and listen to live music" I might have to take a femtosecond to think it over, but I probably would decide to do it. I'm adaptable that way.

I could have danced all night

I could have sat there drinking to that pulse St. Vincent was laying down all afternoon. But one of us would have passed out. I like to think it was her.

ACL me

It's on!

Tasty payoff

Lemon Custard Cup after the Wild Wild Wilderness trail race today (on top of the Knobstone Trail Mini yesterday). I think I can say I earned it.

Torture devices for runners

8:30 on Friday night, I'm in a cheap motel south of Indianapolis, I've rolled the nubby green ball under my feet and The Stick over my legs and I am about to go to bed. Somewhere, my life got seriously off track, or on it, not always sure which. Off the track tomorrow anyway; Knobstone Trail Mini.

Just call me crusty

If I had collapsed in the woods instead of finishing the 18 miles deer would now be coming up to me saying: "Cool, a salt lick."

Wild thing

Look, wildlife, and right outside my office door this morning. I think they count that as a benefit

Life's a bitch

Drinking Bitches Brew (thanks to the Big C) and listening to Bitches Brew. Some people have a personal relationship with Jesus, I have a personal relationship with Miles.

That was fast

About 10:30 I'll be 57 (and probably asleep). This morning I'm 1:57 (and change) ... or about 2 minutes faster in the half marathon.

It lives!

Maybe the best IOSF ever. We should cancel it every year. But this morning I feel so bad thinking about the people who couldn't attend the 33rd IOSF because they had to go to a Ball State-Colgate football ga... Oops, never mind!

That was a hot one

Trail racing tan, so to speak. Two-plus hours humping in 90ish heat and humidity really leaves you feeling like you've done something. Like taken a hot, salty shower. Even the inside of my shoes were swimming, without any creek crossings you couldn't hop over.

Divine Davina

I am having an orgasm with Davina (and with the Vagabonds, too), in a this-music-is-so-freaking-awesome sort of way, of course.

Little Ricky needs a spanking, or a nice nap in the slam

So I don't think they hang public officials who commit felonies in Texas anymore and I'm for that, but I think a public spanking, bare ass, of course, would be nice.

Hot tamales, so to speak

End of the Augosto 12K in San Antonio Saturday; 7.45 miles at about 90 degrees and 85 percent humidity and I'm cooking … literally.

Smooth sailing

Schooner at the ersatz Texas Ranger Museum (and saloon) in San Antonio makes me flash back to Snap's Cafe in Jasper, IN. But the beer is better!

I'm trying to forget

Ignoring The Alamo.

Down in the dirt

The medal/bottle opener is for running a series of trail races. The knee, which I picked up this morning in the last one, the Eagle Creek half marathon, just kind of emphasizes the point

Sun ship

Heading back to the beach so I can run some more. If I'd been able to do the running part of the Iron Eagle Paddle & Run Saturday as fast as the paddling part, I would have finished a lot sooner. But at least I can still work the sticks.

I was running a 10K and a canoe race broke out

Canoe Saudade and me after the Iron Eagle Paddle & Run, kind of a 10K on trails with a canoe race in the middle. The boat smoked some people but I had sea legs the second half of the run.

Next April? Already got plans

A leap of faith is me registering for the April 25, 2015, Illinois Marathon this morning, on the day registration opened.

It's on!

Bra-zeel!

Força Brazil!

It's the shoes, but I helped

Two races in these Altra One2s, two best times. This morning, the Firecracker 6 miler in Indy, 3:12 faster than last year (woot) and 49 seconds better in the second three miles than the first (negative split, woot, woot). I'm kind of on love with some shoes.