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I thought I could do it. I really did. I thought that with just one small 5K under my belt I could place in my age group in Iowa’s largest race, the Bix 7. Oh man, I put so much thought and planning into doing this. But when my Garmin informed me of my time for that third mile - much of which was downhill - reality splattered into me like the onslaught from an angry starling above. I was not able to maintain the pace I’d wanted. Indeed, given how I was already starting to

406 days. Approximately 9757 hours. That’s how long it had been since my last race. As those who follow this post know, the time since that race has seen far too much drama. Knee injury. Platelet-Rich Plasma injection. MRI. Meniscus surgery. Blah. Blah. Blah. What mattered most to me was the walk up to that starting line in downtown Ames, Iowa. Me and just over four hundred other participants clustering closer and closer together. What was going through my head? Prett

Let’s make something clear. My January 3 post from earlier this year does not count. It’s been retro conned away. It was a bad dream. It’s been written out of the script of my life. Thanks to a successful surgery on my left knee, I’m back to running. Specifically, my Nike Pegasus’s are being put through their paces five times a week. That includes speedwork with Coach Ives again. My paces are approaching where I’d been before I tore my meniscus last July. That qualif

I know. I know. I can’t run the Eugene Half Marathon this year. But who’s to say I can't imagine what it would be like to be a part of that amazing race! To feel those butterflies as I take off with thousands of other runners. To wonder how I’ll feel when I hit that midpoint in the race. To again face that challenging hill at Mile 10. And to savor those final strides down that incredible track at Hayward Field. Hey, I’ve got an even better idea! Why don’t all of you join me a

It happened on Pre’s Trail in Eugene last month. Call it an epiphany. Call it a defining moment. Or just call it a good day. Regardless, I left that workout with a greater determination and goal. I wanted to run again. It was a cool, foggy morning. A soundtrack of late 1983 music kept me company on those sawdust trails as I alternated five minutes of running with three minutes of walking. Although it was a world removed from what I’d have been doing just six months earli

The big day as I'm hoping I don't blow my chance at a lollipop. “I see a bright light at the end of a tunnel. I want to go into that light. The only thing that could possibly stop me would be a … wild salmon smoothie. Any chance you could make one for me?" The look from my wife, Amy, told me that she wasn’t buying any of it. But it was her fault. She had been the one to ask how I was doing. It was actually a good question. This was the evening of Friday, October 21. A g

Believe it or not, Krusteaz is a PNW company that makes pancake mix. Meet Mr. Reasonably-Nice Guy. That’s me. Or so I’m hoping. ...