Fight The Real Enemy!

Fight The Real Enemy

Hey gang, since my hair is growing at such a rapid pace, I have to post a few pictures quickly before I return to boring, old, full-head-of-hair me. Right now, you would say that I'm at the dreaded "Sinead Stage", where it appears that that I shaved my head to look like a crazy Irish folk singer. Emphasis on the CRAZY. Well, since I look so much like Sinead that her agent keeps asking me to be her body double, I thought it would be funny to reinact her CLM* on SNL*, when she announced "Fight the Real Enemy!" and tore up a picture of the pope. Well, I'm not Catholic, and I'm not crazy, so I thought tearing up a picture of the pope would be quite the sacrilege, especially considering that the new pope has stopped by my blogsite to bless it a time or two. (Thanks, Pope!)

So I googled "Pope" and found this picture. It's a photo of a man named "Mike Pope" and I think he's a guitar instructor from Indiana or something. So Mike, I mean you no offense, but you have to admit it makes for a funny photo. And truth be told, you don't have your hand on the red phone to the man upstairs like the real pope does. I mean, he talks directly to God while you're teaching 12 year olds how to play "Stairway to Heaven". The real pope could probably curse me with a music career like Sinead's. No thanks.

Anyway, enough of that. I haven't updated you on my running lately, so I will quickly. I'm officially in the Chicago Marathon again, so I'll be one of 40,000+ people running it. (I'll be the one wearing a red shirt). My training has started, and I can't wait. Chicago is such a fun marathon! I had a great 5k "training" run this morning with friends. Actually, it was less for training, and more to uphold our "Take Back The Trail" day, as today marks the anniversary of a local woman's brutal attack exactly one year ago. Over 300 people gathered at the trail this morning; to be together, to celebrate community, and to cheer her amazing recovery and subsequent return to the trail. It was an amazing morning. I was proud to be there.

But I was there a year ago, too. Much like today, I was training for the Chicago Marathon. And much like today, I was only scheduled to run 3 miles. Unfortunately, I stopped a mere half mile from where the crime took place - at roughly the exact time that it was happening. I'm not saying that I could have stopped it from happening, and quite frankly, something even more serious could have happened to her or me. I don't know. But I do know that it affected me much more deeply than I thought it did. Man, did it affect me.

I'm much more aware of my surroundings now. I have my music on a little quieter, I say hello to everyone I pass, and I look them in the eye. This isn't a bad change, it's just learning to deal with the world in which we live. So if you're a big outdoors person like me, just be alert. And if you want to borrow Loki for a run, just ask. Granted, he's absolutely no good for protection (unless you happen to get attacked by squirrels), but he looks like a white wolf, which can be pretty intimidating...

Today helped me find a lot of the closure I've been needing. I won't give you the woman's name, but it's been exactly a year since she was nearly beaten to death and left to die, and let me tell you, she looks FANTASTIC. I am amazed by her physical recovery, but more importantly, I'm so proud of her for staring fear in the face and returning to the location a year later. She's a winner, I tell you. None of this "Fear-Factor-I-have-to-eat-worms-to-win-fifty-thousand-dollars" crap, but a real winner. She's not letting this attack own her, but rather she's owning it. That's her trail dammit - she's earned it. We should all be so strong.

Well, I have to go. I promised a friend I would help him pack boxes for his upcoming move. Note to self, you probably shouldn't let a person with OCD help you pack. Everything has to fit into the boxes as neatly as a Tetris game. Oh boy...


*Oh, and BTW, CLM = Career Limiting Move, and SNL = Saturday Night Live. People like me love our TLA. TLA = Three Letter Acronyms. And yes, I do find it slightly ironic that we describe three letter acronyms with a three letter acronym. Don't ask.

Bald Man Runnin' 

Baldness Blogness

Yes I did it. Thanks to all of my amazing friends and family, I raised well over my $2,000 goal for this Friday's American Cancer Society Relay For Life. So, as promised, I'm bald. Bald, bald, bald. Once again, I'm having issues uploading photos to this blog, so the photos will be coming soon. Promise. Well, I have to get headed to work soon, so you're getting another OCD list:

Total money raised by Mateo - $3,000+
Total money raised in Linn County for the American Cancer Society - $300,000
Total number of miles run by Mateo - 13.1 (half marathon)
Total number of laps on a quarter mile track - 52
Total number of granola bars consumed by Mateo - 5
Total number of heads shaved - 1

I must be completely honest here. Although it's getting many rave reviews, I don't really like my head shaved. I think it makes me look mean. Like Harley-riding, leather jacket-wearing, baseball bat-wielding mean. I look like I should be in a Harley bar rather than a martini bar. Jinkies! Well, perhaps next year I'll shave it BEFORE the fundraising to intimidate people into donating even more money! Take care and run on!

Mateo (Bald Man Runnin')

P.S. I wouldn't suggest running a half marathon on a quarter mile track. A person can get really dizzy after running 52 laps...

P.P.S. I know, I know... Harley-riding bald men don't use the word "Jinkies". Well this one does, so you're going to have to get over it.

Miniblog

I know, I know... I don't blog enough to keep you people happy. Well, I'm alive. I've just been crazy busy lately. Work is insane, I'm trying to keep on top of my running/biking/swimming, and I've been trying to manifest something which resembles a social life. Speaking of my running, the good news - rather, GREAT news - is that I turned in the bulk of my pledges for the Relay for Life, and the current total is $2,290, with roughly $500 outstanding pledges. WOW. Wow, wow. I'm floored, amazed, touched, and... a little scared.

Yes, I said it. I'm scared. This really means that I have to go through with that little "if I raise $2000, I'll shave my head" thing. I know I promised I'd do it... Promises, schmomises. Do I really have to do it? What if I my head looks stupid bald? What if I look like one of those serial killers who always "kept to himself"? What if my dog freaks out and won't run with me anymore? Wait a minute... there's an idea! Can I shave my dog instead? It is summer after all, and he is a rather warm-blooded Alaskan Husky. Truth be told, he would probably welcome a summer crew cut.

Fine, I'll do it, and yes, I'll take pictures. The Relay is this Friday night, and I'm planning to run from 8pm to midnightish. I'll probably run a half marathon or so, depending on the weather. I usually try to log 13 miles every year. Admittedly, it's only a quarter mile track, so a person can get pretty dizzy after lapping it 52 times. Plus, I have a tendancy to lose count of my laps when I'm in the mid-30's. It's so cool to run at dusk when they light the luminarias though, which are lit for those we've lost to cancer. It's pretty moving when you stop to think about it. Plus, it's probably the only time in your life that you have the opportunity to run by candlelight.

So for those of you who have donated, thank you. For those of you who haven't, there's still time. For those of you who can't, I encourage you to get out and do something in your own community. You don't have to give money. Give of yourself. There are a lot of people out there who need you. Rather than sitting behind a computer reading my blog, you could be helping an elderly person find food, helping a child find a mentor, or helping a dog find a good home. Ask around, there are hundreds of organizations that can use you.

Well, I have to run. I probably won't have a chance to blog before the Relay, so I'll be back in a few days with "Bald Man Runnin" photos. Promise. No schmomise...

Pigman IV

Well, today was the fourth Pigman sprint triathlon that I've completed in my newly-healthy life, and I just love it. I have a new PR under my belt, knocking a good three minutes off my previous PR. Sure, I was hoping to shave a good 10 minutes off my time (it's the perfectionist in me), but all things considered, I'm still happy. My swim was fast and strong, my bike was as good as can be expected with 35+ mph headwinds, and my run was consistent. Pretty impressive, since I was up until 1am with tornado and thunderstorm warnings all night. The beauty of living in Iowa is the unpredictability of the weather.

The other beauty of living in Iowa is the people. For those of you readers who live elsewhere, I hope you encounter people half as cool as the people here. The reason I do the Pigman (and will continue to do it until I physically can't) is the overwhelming comraderie of the participants. It's like a cult of triathloning, I tell you. Sure, these people aren't my best friends, and I don't even know most of their names, but I know them, and they know me. Almost all of the regulars were there: "Red Shirt Guy", "Tall Michael", Eric, Greg, "Minneapolis Girl"... y'all did great. ("Pirate Lady", where were you this year?) Familiar and encouraging faces are everywhere, and we cheer each other on, because much like life, we're all in this together, just trying to make it through and do the best we can.

My personal favorites are the newbies. They're as easy to spot as a Republican at an Indigo Girls concert. They have that "WHAT THE HECK DID I GET MYSELF INTO" look all over their faces. There were a lot of those faces today. Once they feel the overwhelming pride of crossing that finish line, they catch the triathloning bug, just like I did. Trust me, they'll be back.

Blue Shirt Lady will be back. She was struggling with the last leg of the run, with only a mile to go. As I was approaching her, I did my typical, "Hey Blue Shirt! I'm on your tail! You don't want to get passed by a fat man!". She was able to laugh through her laboured breath, and we ran together briefly, while exchanging training horror stories. As I was pulling away she yelled, "You're awesome, Fat Man! You're the fastest man out here!"

You're damn right, Blue Shirt. And for about ten seconds, I felt like I was the fastest man in the world. That was all I needed to hear to kick it in and really fly. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to keep up with me, but she finished strong with a huge (and well-deserved) smile plastered all over her newbie face. She'll keep up with me next year.

So the next time you're completing a triathlon, running a road race, or just sitting at work... why don't you take a second to give the person next to you a word of encouragement? It might just be the boost they need to finish strong. Who knows, they might just return the favor.

All in all, it was a good race. No, it was a great race. I don't even care that a thirteen year old girl beat me. She was a total rockstar. If you're reading this Alison, way to go!