32-something, 33-something, 34-something. Those are my times for the 2022, 2023, and 2024 Turkey Chase races. The cold rain didn't help. Nor did, now that I think of it, the 7+ mile warmup. Some of that was on the mill. I know. I'm not the smartest gobbler in the group. Now, I can say, I'm also not the fastest.
It was great to see all my friends out there, gobbling along. This race is a whole bunch of fun. It would be even funner if I could run fast.
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| Somewhere near the finish - ergo the smile |
Today, I unhappily discovered that the porta johns near the Claggett Middle School Track had been removed. This got me singing...
When I think back on all the craps I took in high school
It's a wonder I can poop at all
And though my lack of constipation hasn't hurt me none
I can't go 'cause there is no stall
Porta John
They give us those nice bright colors
Give us the greens of summers
Makes you think all the world's a sunny day, oh yeah
I got to go real bad
I love to know where they're at
So mama, don't take my Porta John away
Mama, don't take my Porta John
Mama, don't take my Porta John
Mama, don't take my Porta John away
It's one of those days when my coffee has failed to kick in entirely. The situation is almost dire enough to prevent me from getting out for my solo run. Almost; I'm out the door.
A half-mile into the run, a smattering of brain cells begin to fire. It's enough to come up with an idea about where to go. The Brunswick Middle School Track, they suggest. It's not a bad idea. That track, like the high school one, is usually buttoned up tighter than a high-security prison. And believe me, I do know about high-security prison security. But I'd recently heard that the middle school would be opening the track up to the public on Sundays. This would only be for certain hours and I am probably too early. But hey, I'll give it a try. If I'm turned away at the gates, it will at least have been worth the try.
I'm in! The gate was open! First time since the track was completed a couple of years ago. I go round and round for some mindless miles. Just what the 'ole under-utilized brain needed today.
One other remarkable thing happens: A couple of hawks are hanging around the track as it begins to get light. They grudgingly hop from the track surface, up to the top of the fence each time I come by. It's unusual to get this close to these marvelous creatures, so I'm tickled.
Let's call him, "Dan." There's an old Alfred Hitchcock movie called, The Man Who Knew Too Much. Dan likes to say that he fits in the opposite category. But it's not quite the same with running. Dan ran quite a bit on his recent cruise, about like he usually does. But not so much recently.
After all those 70+ mile weeks, Dan's total was much lower last week due to jet lag and the time spent traveling itself (over 30 hours from Singapore). This week, he thought, his mileage would be back up there. It started out okay, but then the residual cruise germs got to him. At least, that's his theory. Regardless of their origin, they've been manifesting themselves in his sinus area, causing an infection. Yes, Dan is fighting back, but, so far, he's not running as much as planned.
Today would be different, he thought. He's feeling slightly better, so it will be 18 miles on the dreadmill. The cold rain and snow of recent days makes running outside less compelling; it'll be nice and warm on the 'ole mill. Everything is ready for that long, boring morning, when Dan notices that his friends are indeed going to run on Lester Rail Trail. Dan thinks, 'Hmm. The rain and snow have mostly stopped. Maybe I should join my friends instead of being a hermit.'
He makes it out there, and it's cold and wet and muddy and snowy. But Dan's friends are there, and he has the run of his life. Or, at least the run of his week. Anyway, it is quite enjoyable. He's glad he did it.
So now, here's the problem. He only did 12 miles, instead of 18. Where will he get the miles he needs to continue to be the man who ran too much?
Been home for less than 24 hours, but that shouldn't be a problem. I haven't been doing much running on dry land for the past month and a half, but that shouldn't be a problem either. I ought to be able to just go and pound out a ten-plus miler with ease. Except it's not quite working out that way.
As my run starts out, I realize that I am so very tired. And this here slow pace reflects that. What's up with this cool weather anyway? And inclines? And concrete? Traffic (even though it's light)? Maybe, I think, I'll just do my six-mile course and see if I can do any more after that. Even this much is becoming a chore.
But then it occurs to me: I wonder whether the new all-purpose trail from Brunswick Lake to Plum Creek is completed? One way to find out: run there. Except it's a long way. Such a course correction would make this run more than six miles; maybe something like eight or more. I decide to go for it.
Over and around Brunswick Lake, I get onto the new trail. It does indeed appear to be nicely completed. I don't think I can make it all the way to Plum Creek, but at least I can explore this new section up to Laurel Road. It's very nice, and I'm zooming right along. Until I encounter the mud. It turns out that there's one 100-yard or so section that's in the middle that's not completed yet.
I slosh through the mud, emerge back onto the paved path, and make my way to Laurel. All-in-all, it was probably less than 3/4 of a mile. But it's fun to explore. I feel (very slightly) rejuvenated for my run back home.
Not bad for a slow but decent eight-miler.
The good ship Oceania Regatta is sailing from LA to Singapore, and I am onboard, ready to run. Well, at least the first part of that sentence is true. The Regatta is one of Oceania's smaller ships, also known as 'R' Class Ships. That means 13 laps per mile, or perhaps somewhat fewer if I do the corridors along with the loop. It's still not a good situation. But the treadmill is worse. More on all this later.
The outdoor situation is made worse when there's wind, rain, or waves to get in the way. When it's really bad, they close the deck 10 track entirely. I don't care how cold or wet it seems to be, or that the deck-swabbers and I must do battle each day, leave the dang thing open for me. Please? (Incidentally, sometimes the Captain personally allows me up on the deck 10 track when it was otherwise closed.)
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| Itin |
Speaking of treadmills, on (rare) occasions, I can watch a decent movie to help me get through the otherwise boring run. One such enjoyable and appropriate movie was MacFarland, USA. Another was Zatopek. If only the rest could be that good.
Okay, now some more on the on-deck running. Since there's nothing new about running on one of these boats, I've copied this description from another voyage.
The fitness center doesn't open until 6:00 A.M., and here it is, five-something. What to do? Run in circles on deck 10, of course. Running in circles, you ask? Isn't that awful, you ask? Maybe. But not always so much. I have options, you see... I can:
a) Run the 13-laps-per-mile recommended route. Yes, that's a lot of turning. But even here, there are options within this option. You see, I can run counter-clockwise (the usual direction, though I'm not sure why) or clockwise. See? All types of variations. I do a mile in each direction, but can only run clockwise when no one else is about. Today, I'm alone up here. Regardless of direction, I can only handle so much of this, so there's option b.
b) When I get tired of all that turning, I can do something else: add the two short aft hallways to the route. When I do this, it's only about 8 laps per mile. Another advantage is that I now (assuming that I'm going the accepted counter-clockwise direction) do two left-hand turns and two right-hand turns, and I don't even upset any fellow walkers or runners. The only disadvantage is having to do 180-degree turns at the end of each hallway. When I get tired of this, I can graduate further to option c.
c) This one only works when no one else is about. I can start in one direction, say clockwise, run one aft hallway, then turn and change direction all the way around the other way, in this case, counter-clockwise. When I get to the end of the other hallway, I turn 180 degrees and reverse direction once again. Now it's only five and a half laps per mile, at least for each complete - going each way - circuit. The advantage here is that I'm constantly changing direction and my turns are completely evened out. Of course, I can only do this when I'm completely alone.
d) By the time I get a few miles sorted out as described above, it's 6:00, and (Bob's your Uncle) the gym is open. I hate that mill, but it prevents me from running in circles or U-shaped thingies (c). I can only take so much milling around, so I will often revert myself back to option a again.
I do also manage to get a few runs on dry land. Only a few miles here and there, but it sure is nice to get those in. One such run was in Ketchikan, and another was on Kodiak Island.
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| Minor encounter with an eagle in Ketchikan |
Then, at Dutch Harbor, I got out in Unalaska on Amaknak Island located in Alaska's Aleutian Islands. My route took me up the side of a local mountain where there were some artifacts left over from the U.S. military in World War 2. The hill was both long and steep, and the views were fantastical.
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| Up the mountain in Unalaska |
I manage to get some long runs in. It's tough to run around in circles for 18 or more miles, even when you break that up with some mill miles. Somehow, I do it. But not all runs are gems. Some of the runs in rough waters are really tough. It's mill miles only, but even those are whilst hanging on for dear life.
When we finally arrive in Japan, I get some more on-land running in, starting in small-town Miyako and Oarai. Then we get to big-town Yokohama. Once there, I go out to do a nine-miler (my longest land run) and enjoy the many parks and their bidet-equipped public toilets. And let me tell you, those can be quite welcome!
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| Yokohama |
Besides still more ship running (that's 'ship' with a 'p'), I ran on land in Kobe and (at our our last stop in Japan) Okinawa. That short run in Okinawa was with John Shively, a fellow passenger who's from Lafayette, Indiana.
And that's about it for my running on this old rust bucket. 423.8 miles. Most of it on deck, running in circles or something similar. Some on dreadmills, some on land, and some whilst hiking. 6 18-mile runs, and a whole lot of 10-ish milers. And guess what? I still gained weight. A lot of weight.
For more about the trip in general, see this travel blog post.
