A Mother Always Knows

Dear Mom, I know it has been a while since we have talked and even longer since I wrote you. I want to tell you how much I love and miss you dearly. You are still such a special woman in my life and hold a deep part of my heart. I should not have waited for this "Mother's Day" to reach out to you. Life sometimes gets so busy that we tend to overlook the people that mean so much to us. That is a lame excuse but it is the best I can do right now. On this day I would like to reflect back on our lives together as Mother and Son.

I know it was hard for you at times raising your three children as a single mother for the most part. You working those long hours only to come home and still manage to cook our dinner and put up with all the fussing that two brothers and a sister do. You were so strong not to let it show but I later learned that you were so tired at times and still kept going. Being the oldest was such a big responsibility for me but you never asked me to do things that you did not think I could do. I am so grateful now for that. When I was young I did not realize you were setting me in motion to be the man I am today. Absent all the crazy stuff I seem to find myself doing but hey if it were easy everyone would do it.

I want to thank you mom for being there for me as I was growing up. I can remember all those times you assured me everything would be okay. Like the time when my sister threw the plugged in light socket at me and it stuck to my chest and started electrocuting me. You assured me that I was not dying and the black hairs on my chest were just an early sign of puberty. And when my brother would throw his Christmas Tonka trucks at me out of anger you would assure me that he would eventually grow out of playing with toy trucks. I remember when I was playing outside and came inside thirsty and started drinking from the water jug in the kitchen. After I finished half the gallon I then looked on the jug and read "plant food". You assured me that I was not going to start growing broccoli in my stomach. I remember when my heart would get broken by a girl from school. You would tell me there are other fishes in the sea. You would also tell me that it also doesn't hurt to be a shark every once in a while. I thank you for not getting mad when you returned home from a week long business trip and my girlfriend had moved in. I think you knew it was a temporary thing and also knew she had a different agenda. Some lessons in life are best learned the hard way you would say. You would padlock the cupboards because you were tired of my brother and I eating all the groceries before the week was over.

I would like to apologize to you again for all those things I did growing up that made you upset, disappointed or down right pissed off at me. There are some things that I did that I never told you about. I do remember you saying long ago, "Your Mother always knows." I agree with that statement whole heartily. There were times once I became an adult that we would talk about things I did in high school and you would finish my sentences. "I can't believe you knew that." I use that statement now with the girls but I replace Mother with Father. But then again there are things that this Father may never want to know or at least admit knowing.

I would also like to thank you mom for being such a great Grandmother. The girls love you so. They talk about you and the fun times we have had. The times when they would stay with you when we were on vacation. I knew the only reason you wanted us up there was to have the girls stay with you. You taught them so much that I am sure it will help them in their adult lives. They miss you so much.

I appreciate those times we would talk about things in our lives as friends would do. You and I became great friends as we got older. We became great listeners as well. You were wiser than I could ever be. I try to pass it on when dealing with the girls. I can also see some of you in them when they come at me with something I have done wrong. Especially the oldest one. Which seems to be more than needed lately.

There is some much more I want to say to you right now. If I had the chance I would. I will say that I love you and forever will. This Mother's Day gig is all about you but you never needed a specific day to be recognized. You were the best mother you could be everyday and I would tell you that right now if I could.

I remember the last time I told you I loved you. It was on August 9, 2005. You laid in that hospital bed with complications from Colon Cancer surgery. You never knew you had it. Just some exploratory surgery because of some recent abdominal pain. Who would have known. We were already told that you would be leaving us soon and there was nothing we could do about it. You were not even awake. I held your finger ever so tight as a child would do for that comfort feeling when being led somewhere by their parent. You led me to so many places mom. Some of those places I have yet to reach but have not gotten off the road. Merely a journey, right. I only let go mom once I knew you were at peace. Keep looking down on us and know that we love you with no regrets. "A Mother always knows."

I love you,

John

As a friend of mine said in an earlier posting, always tell your family/friends you love them. You never know when they will be leaving you for the final time.

16 And Counting....

This will not be a story about my oldest daughter. That would be titled 16 Going On Bout To Drive Her Father Insane. This is about my 16Th St Anthony's Triathlon in a row.

The St. Anthony's Triathlon is an Olympic distance (1.5k swim, 40k bike, 10k run) triathlon held annually the last Sunday of April in St Petersburg, Fl. The attendance varies each year from 1500 participants to now almost 4000. The race usually sells out within the first few hours once on-line registration is open. Athletes come from all around the world to compete. It is the first race the pros use for the beginning of their season. It has also been my first race of the season for some time now. The race is also held in my hometown of sorts so I must enter. Their have been some friendly rivalries developed over the years with friends and co-workers, whether we race in the same division or not. The course is the same for all of us.

Even though I know this race is coming like clock work, this year I did not train as hard as years past. I only did two open water one mile swims and swam in the pool maybe four times. My biking has also been lacking. A few rides here and there. My running has improved with the help of a few friends but it is still not where I would like it to be but there is no one else to blame but me. Well there is this one person but hey they know who they are.

Race morning comes early. Like 4 a.m. early. I only live an hour from the race but I would rather be early than late looking for parking. I drove over with the family in tow except for the oldest one who was resting up for her high school flag football playoffs which was to start the next day. I don't want to say I heard her say under her breath, "another swim, bike, run. What's the big deal. I have passes to block and flags to pull." No. She wouldn't say anything like that would she.

I was able to use my membership card and get a parking spot 200 yards from the race site. Left the family in the car to rest while I got my body marked and put my shoes in place. I had dropped my bike off the day before but still topped off the tires with air. Some of the larger triathlons require you to put your bike in the transition area the day before. This is to cut down on the log jam on race morning. I also think it is to promote area hotel bookings. Why else would there be two big triathlons at Disney.

I gathered the family and headed to the swim start which was about a mile away. The pros would start their race at 6:45. My race would start at 7:34. There were 32 waves for this race.

The wind was about 15-20 mph gusts from the south but the water looked flat. The only thing predictable about the water conditions each year at St Anthony's is that it is unpredictable. The swim will make or break your race. Last year's swim was cancelled for everyone but the pros and even the pros said later that it was the right decision. This year's swim course was actually shorted to 1000 yards for waves 26 to 32 because of stronger winds.

I zipped up my wet suit which is a great confidence booster. I headed in to the water to take a short little swim to feel the water temp and get loosened up. Okay I will be honest with you. It is also so I can empty the kidneys. C'mon now, I ain't the only one doing it. Wait a minute. I AIN'T THE ONLY ONE DOING IT. Nasty. I love the wetsuit on the long swims when the water is just a little chilly. The twins like it as well but they don't like the solitary confinement. Swim fast they say.

The horn blows and off we go. The water was flat but crowded. There were over 120 guys in my wave. I am not fast enough to start out front so it takes a while for the group to thin out a little. I always watch for the feet ahead of me. This is really the only part of the race where you have a greater chance of dying. Lungs full of water is just not natural.

I am at the first yellow turn buoy sooner than I thought I would be. This is going to be a great swim. Or so I thought. Now the wind is at my back. Yes that helps with a bit of a push but it was not body surfing. And there were times I could not see the buoys. The tide is going out and the wind is blowing at my back. Yippy. Did I mention the course buoys are orange and so are the swim caps of my wave. Just look for a yellow buoy I say now. Turn two out of the way and still feeling good about the swim. I love me some wetsuit.

Now the swim in. Water, wind and the pain in the ass swimmer are really going to test me this morning. Waves are coming over me as I am swimming in. Wind is still blowing North and the tide is going out. I have now passed numerous other swimmers who are floating (head out of water), hanging on the surfboards and kayaks. I breathe on my right side so this helps a little since the waves were coming over me from the left. I was also able to see this swimmer, with an orange cap, swimming right at me. I reach out to push him from coming in to me. No good. He swims right across my path so I push his foot so he does not kick me. Now he should be on my left side. Oh no, here he comes again. Same thing again. This time I yell at him to swim straight. I give him a little space and also try to swim a little faster to get ahead and out of his way. For some reason he had the same strategy. What a pain in the water he was. After two more dances with him I saw that we were coming up on a larger slower swimmer so I was able to get that guy in between us. Swim is done now. Out of the water in 30 minutes. Not my fastest but considering the conditions, I will take it.

Wet suit off. Helmet on. Shoes on. I grab my bike and run to the bike exit. As me and another guy get to the bike exit, I see this four wheeler coming down one of the bike isles also heading out the exit. There was a volunteer with her arms up telling us to stop. I am thinking, "hey lady we are trying to do a race here. This four wheeler can wait." The four wheeler headed out towards the run start. Me and the other guy started to go and then this runner wearing a red leotard about fell over my front tire. He yelled for us to watch out. I am thinking, "show off. Who does that guy think he is."

Out on the bike course now. I heard a running buddy yelling at me from the top of her lungs as she said she would. I knew the bike course was going to be a bit challenging because of the wind. My advantage was that I know the course. I have ridden it numerous times. But some of you may also know that I have a problem with pacing myself. I said to myself, "Self. You will try to keep your speed at 20-22 for the most part. Save your legs for the run." I finished with a 21.7 mph pace. I could have pushed it more but held back. Time to run.

Socks on. Race belt on. Shoes on and off I go. I was already 1 hour 45 minutes in to my race. I knew I would not beat 2:30 because my fastest 10k was 48 and some change. My goal now was under 2:45. I started out with a 7:45 pace. I felt comfortable and was happy with that pace. I later slowed to a 9:30 but that was for a short time. As I was coming down the finish chute, I saw my family cheering me on. Both the family that rode with me and my running family. All were cheering loudly which tends to give you that extra boost at the end. I probably could have used it at about the 5 mile mark but hey I am sure they would have been there had they known. I finished with an 8:32 mile pace for the 10k.

My overall finish time was 2:37. Not a PR for me but I will take it considering the weather conditions and the lack of training. I also later learned that I finished high enough in my age group (top 33% 88th of 374) to qualify for the Age Group Nationals in September. I was not aware that that was even a possibility but hey Kona here I come. What is that? Hawaii is not where the Nationals are. They are where? Tuscaloosa, Alabama. Where? Tuscaloosa, Alabama. Well then, Alabama here I come.

Oh and the guy in the red leotard. He was the winner of the race. 1:48. Told you he was a show off.

Me Pace You? Yeah Right.

First of all to my readers and fans, it has been a while since I posted something. Wouldn't you know that "life" just gets in the way sometimes. I have so many stories and re-caps to tell. Have no fear they will all make their way to the blogosphere for you to enjoy.

Now the task at hand. Last Saturday, a week ago, our running group was sitting at Panera's having food and liquids when I hear Beth telling everyone that she is doing the Run For Sight 5k next Saturday. Yeah okay. Everyone kept talking about other things. "Hey! I said I am doing the Run For Sight 5k in Ybor City next Saturday". Okay. Others are running 22 miles and some are going out of town to avoid seeing fireworks. What's the big deal. "I just wanted you guys to know. I could use a pacer because I want a PR." Now when she says "pacer", she was looking at me.

Now I have never officially paced someone for a 5k race other than my two daughters. So I'm thinking, great now I am going to have to hear crying and whining. It's hot out here. When is it over. How far have we gone. Am I going to fast. Am I going to slow. Should I have pottied before we started. Should I eat a banana before the race or after. Do you think I should wear a jog bra....wait scratch that one. This is Beth wanting me to pace. I was actually honored that she would ask me to pace her. I very much agreed to run with her.

I asked Beth what her goal time was and she said 25ish. I told her that would not do. She should go for 24ish. Never settle. I say that and I am sometimes the one that settles. But hey, the pacer can always make the rules. Does not mean he has to follow them.

Our meet time was settled. 6:30 in the a.m. at the Target. Now I would hope the first thing I hear would be, "Good morning. Great to see you. I am so ready for this race." Nope. Since she already broke the boundary in her blog, this is what I heard. "I am having woman issues." Great for me. Yippy. The Run For Sight has now become the "This Crazy Bitch Is Out Of Control 5k." She assured me that it does not affect her personality at all. Once she signed the waiver, we got in Holly's car for the ride to the race.

I stayed in the car while Beth and Holly went to packet pick-up. I would like to say I just rested and stretched while sitting in the car but I was praying instead. I just happened to look over the waiver Beth signed for me and realized she did not use her real name. Oh hell this should be fun. Welcome ipod. Don't leave home without it.

We have now moved to the starting area to stretch and linger. A girl wearing a pink running shirt approached us, well actually Beth, I just happened to be standing there. She said, "aren't you the blogger." And Beth said yes and removed a Sharpie from her waist and reached out as if to sign an autograph or her running shirt or something. It just got kind of weird for a moment. Beth did her best to include Captain Nuts in the whole reading blogs thing but this girl just said the old, "oh yeah I do." Captain Nuts could tell. He knows she doesn't.

So the race was about to begin and I told Beth that I would let her run her pace at first. I would then pick it up when the time comes. I also told her we needed to be towards the front so we don't get caught having to get around people. This would cause us to have to pick the pace up before she was ready. The Star Spangled Banner. The horn. We are off. Sure enough I told her to start getting around people. Don't you just love those runners that either walk or feel that if they are at the front it will somehow make them faster. I know we are not all super fast, I surely am not, but at least put yourself in the right position before the race starts. I digress.

Beth is cooking it. She is running a 7:15 for about the first mile. I am starting to think that I have been Punked. I do not want to say it but I am damn sure hoping that she can not maintain this pace. Only because a pacer is supposed to be with the runner at the end of the race. I know those anonymous posters will say, "not for every race." Well I would hope a pacer for a 5k would start and finish with their runner. Anyways.

She starts to slow a little which was good because I did not want her to fade too soon. She was still running about 7:30 pace. I felt good with this pace. And she only groaned and moaned a few times. She sure kept looking at that watch. Just over the halfway point we caught two high school girls that were running pretty good. The chess match began. Beth dropped them just over the 2 mile point. At just about the 2.5 mark is the first time I heard her complain. She said she was starting to fade. I told her to quit looking at her watch and just run. I would make sure she was going fast enough. Two turns left and we were at 22:50. A woman said that Beth was the 6th woman so far. That had to be great to hear. I thought it was.

Holly was just in front of us. Actually very close. I remember telling Beth before the race started that she could run with Holly. No I can't. She is fast. Knock off the doubting of yourself.

The last turn and the clock had just turned 23:00. Get in there girl, I yelled. She picked it up and finished at 23:21. No puking. She had an excellent run. She filled out her time card and put it in the box. I looked and saw that hers was the only card in the box and there no other cards on the finisher board. I knew that she had won her age group but did not say anything to her confirming it. She did so well that Holly was looking for us at the finish line and did not know we were done. Holly also won her age group with a time of 23:11. Both she and Beth had PR's.

A personal note to Beth. I know you had a few rough days this week but "YOU" kicked ass. Thank you very much for asking me to pace you. I enjoyed it. At some point you will have to pace me. Now for that, "when should I eat a banana" comment. She ate one after the race.

Gasparilla Marathon 2010 Recap (only one)

This will be strange. Me recapping a race in just one blog. I am already nervous and a bit scared. Also a word of warning. This is a marathon recap so there may be some adult language. Here goes.

As I mentioned earlier somewhere, either in a blog, an e-mail, phone call or just in my sleep, I have really slacked off on my Gasparilla marathon training this time around. Don't get me wrong, I do like to run. It's the damn distance that is a pain in the ass. Sometimes literally. The back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and well, you get my point. I was trying to follow some sort of training plan. I am not sure whose plan it was but it wasn't any that my fellow BRA runners were doing. Case in point. On a Saturday long run I would ask, "what are you guys running today?" "We are doing 18." "Oh hell no. I think I will go 8." Or when they did 22.5 miles I must have ran 15. I just figured what the hell it's only 22.6 miles. I have done that before. At least twice.

I was trying to do the right things leading up to the race. I ate a big pasta meal on Friday. No drinky drinky on Saturday and a small dinner before 6 pm. Went to bed early and almost got 7 hours sleep. Got up feeling fresh and ready to go.

My plan was to stick to a 9 minute pace for the entire race which would get me under my 4 hour goal. There were several of us wanting to break the 4 hour barrier. One of which was Redhead. I shall congratulate her now and again later. I should just run with the dude holding the 4:00 sign up and I will be fine. Yeah right.

This would be my first race that I ran with a pace group. Often times I just run my own pace and try not to feel the commitment of having to keep a certain pace. If I feel good, then I run good. If I feel bad, then I slow down. Basic math and science.

I started out with the pace group. This was much slower than 9 minutes pace because we were in the pack. Once the runners started to spread out, then I am sure the pace was going to pick up. Oh it did. Early on, we were running 8:15's to 8:30's. Now I understood that we needed to make up some time but damn this was a 26.2 mile race and we did not need to make up all the ground in a mile and a half. Well anyways I was still feeling good so I was just running with the flow. I eventually settled in myself after mile 6 with an 8:30 pace. Here we go again. I am not on the plan and running too fast early. But I feel good sir. I know you do but you just wait. No not me, I feel good. Good luck with that.

At mile 8 I see Tom standing on the side of the road. He was there to help pace one of us to a Boston Marathon spot. 4 hours 5 minutes. Again I figured if I stay with these guys I will break my four hours. Tom asked where is Holly. I say right behind me as in like right behind me. Turns out she and Redhead were not right behind me. They were running the 9 pace like good girls and were further back where they should be. But hey I was feeling good. Right.

Say hello to my little friend. Mile 16. Glad to see you Walt. Time for you and I to spend some time together. I have somewhere to be 16. Why don't you just slow down a bit so we can talk. Look here 16, I need to go meet 17 and so on. Pretty please. Okay, I'll slow down a little just for you. Fair enough. Now go tell 17 to call me sometime.

Brothers 17, 18 and 19 were all the same. It was their bitchy sister 20 that really slapped me in the mouth. I never said anything bad about her. Well not to her face. This was also the same time that my 4 hour pacing friends go strolling by me just following their plan. And so was the guy with the "4 hour goal" sign. I did not like him now. I tried to pick my pace up but just could not get 20 to stop her nagging. She was having this painful conversation with my quads. That bitch.

I was now at 21. What a great number. Only to be 21 again. I am sure that Greek guy had no idea the significance of the number 21. Blackjack. Legal drinking. 21 Jump Street. I digress. My pace had dropped to high 9's now. I was looking at my watch and realizing that my goal of 4 hours was not going to happen unless I picked the pace up to low 8's. Shiiiiips in the harbour. That ain't happening. I shall just cruise in at this pace. I would still be below 4:15 and PR.

Hey, there is the 25 mile sign. Hey, there is the 25 mile sign. Hey, there is the 25 mile sign. Hey, there is the 25 mile sign. Hey, there is the 25 mile sign. Hey, there is the 25 mile sign. Hey, there is the 25 mile sign. Can you guess my pace right now. I thought 20 was a bad girl. Meet her mother. The mother of all miles. The defining moment. "Your almost there." Is it just me or do you want to punch the person that says that right in the mouth. So I am not alone in that thinking. Coach EK starts to run along side me to pace me to the finish. I am glad he is there but I am so not wanting to pick my pace up.

Just as we pass the 25 mile sign, I hear this voice behind us. I turn back and see that it is B.o.b. I am wondering what part of the course did she cut. She could have at least told me ahead of time and I may have cut the same part. But I realize that woman did not cut the course. She was on fire. As I have mentioned in previous posts, she is becoming a great runner. She does not give herself enough credit. She came by me like I was standing still. Well quit honestly, I almost was. I told Coach EK to take her in. She deserved the pacing. And gone she was.

I did finish in 4:10. This was a PR by 9 minutes or so but still a PR none the less. I did feel a lot better this time around. I could at least talk and recognize my family. Will I do a fourth marathon. Sure, someday. How about the Rock n Roll Denver in October. See ya there.

For Red.....

Hello there fellow readers. I was told by a certain friend, Redhead Jen, that my blogs did not have enough pictures. Well now here are some. Each photo has a story behind it. All I ask is that you pick one in the comments section. I will give the background of each picture that is commented on in a future blog. You may or may not win something. Probably not but this could be fun and definitely different.

It's Raining Cell Phones

I made a deal with my daughters to tell the blog world a story that happened last year while on vacation. The deal was agreed upon since I have told a story about them and will post many a more in the coming weeks, months and years. That is as long as my memory holds up. And if it doesn't. You know me. I will just make it up.

Last June, the family and I flew to Washington D.C. with the in-laws for about a week. My father-in-law wanted to see the WWII Memorial and the trip was a birthday present given to him by his three daughters about four years ago.

Prior to us arriving in D.C., I had checked the Washington Nationals and Baltimore Orioles' schedules to see if there was going to be a home game I could take my daughters to. I am one of those fathers that feels spending time with your kids goes a long way. Who knows, they may not be so reluctant to change my diaper some day.

A ball game is a good way for them to have stories to tell later in life. Another way to bond. It is not something my father and I did when I was younger but what the hell. I have no plans to be like my father. But that is another saga in and of itself.

I was born and raised in Atlanta. I am still a Braves fan. I was a fan well before the 90's. Just my luck. The Braves were going to be playing the Orioles for a three game weekend series while we were in D.C. My plan was to rent a car and take the girls to the Saturday night game. I lived in D.C. for three years and had never been to an Orioles game. This should be fun. I like baseball and they like the cotton candy, peanuts, hot dogs, dippin' dots and cold beer.

Come Saturday, we had already been in D.C. for four days. We had walked all over the place. Went to many a museums. Accidentally met Congressman Putnam from Florida. That's another story. Had a private tour of the Capital. There was one thing that kept happening on a daily basis while we were out and about. My cell phone would fall off of my shorts pocket. I would wear the plaid shorts with no belt to hook the clip to so I had to clip the phone to my pocket. Well the slightest bump would cause the phone to fall off and on to the ground or where ever gravity decided to take the thing. This would usually happen as I was going up or down stairs or escalators. Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce. Both my girls would tell me, "Daddy you need to put your phone in your pocket before you lose or break it." Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I am your daddy. I know what I am doing. They both just laughed as if they were some kind of clairvoyants.

Back to the game. We took the Metro to Reagan Airport to get the rental car. All was well. I tried to get us to the stadium based on memory. When I say memory, it was from looking at Mapquest on the computer two weeks ago. No GPS system in the car. But hey I am Daddy. I know where I am doing. I factored in an additional hours time just as a "getting lost" cushion. I drove north on the interstate and then took the wrong exit. Well I knew it was the wrong exit only after I got on it. I played it off as showing the girls where I used to live. "Daddy. You used to live in an embassy." Why yes I did. Well back on the right highway.

Getting to the stadium turned out to be very easy. Baltimore/Washington Parkway north til it ended at the stadium. Membership Privileges got me an upfront parking spot. Bought cheap tix at the gate. Front row of the upperdeck along the third base line. Cheap tickets mean more money available for the little ones to buy food to occupy their time while I watch the game. Yippy.

Not a bad view from the picture I provided.During the game, there was a young couple to our left that had put their camera on the wall just below the railing. Now what do you think happened. The camera demon somehow caused the camera to fall over the edge. Me and the girls look over and see this rather bad-ass looking bald guy rubbing his head as if he had just been hit by a falling object. This object just happened to be the couple's camera. The girl is leaning over and yelling sorry and offering to buy the guy a beer or name her first born after him. The security lady is recovering her camera and calming the guy down. I tell the girls, while laughing, that that is the reason you don't put stuff on the wall. I see the security lady give back the camera to the girl and give her a stern talking to. Can you see where this story is going since it was my girls that wanted me to tell it.

The eighth inning has arrived and the Braves are getting clobbered. Time to leave and beat the....weather. We start to walk up the stairs and what happens. My cell phone, that is not in my pocket, bumps the hand rail and falls off my shorts. It was just like the movies when it all happens in slow motion. My phone starts bouncing down the stairs. Now my daughters are right behind me kind of providing a human shield for my phone. You would think my phone was Moses and my girls were the Red Sea because they just moved right out of the way and watched gravity play havoc with my phone. Bounce. Bounce. Phone separates from holder. Bounce. Phone and battery separate. Bounce. Battery goes over the wall and down below. Oh crap. I could have sworn the ball players were actually watching my phone fall as well. A big ooooh from the crowd.

I run down to the wall and look over to see where my phone landed. There is this bald guy rubbing his head and looking up at me. The same bald guy that already caught a camera with his head.We catch each others eyes and he is not too happy. Great. Whose laughing now. I yell down using the same lines that the girl used earlier. The same security lady was holding my battery and looking up at me. I yell down at the guy that it was an accident. Someone else in the crowd says, "Yeah. It wasn't like you threw your phone down there. Well you didn't did you."

I grab the girls and tell them that I need to go get the battery for my phone. They are both just laughing and saying told you daddy to put your phone in your pocket. I had a crisis on my hand at the moment and was in no laughing mood. I thought I may have to fight some dude for my battery or worst yet....Morgan and Morgan. They were both also saying they needed to go to the bathroom real bad. Now all that laughing will make you pee in your pants. I told them to hold it because I needed to get the battery. While I was going down a level, the security lady was coming up a level. We eventually crossed paths. She gave me my battery. I told her the story which she started to believe until she caught site of both my girls laughing. Now who is getting the stern talking to. Great again.

The girls could not understand the seriousness of the situation. They enjoyed seeing their father, as they called it, panicking. I told them I was not panicking. I was trying to avoid a bad situation. Now if I were at the game with the fellas that would be different. I would have already had 3-6 beers in me and probably would not have known the phone went over the ledge. Needless to say we made it out of there unharmed. The girls were able to go to the bathroom and my phone worked.

I have since got a new phone with a better clip but we have not been to another ball game. And when we do, I will put my phone in my pocket just for them. I enjoy hearing the girls tell this story. Each time it gets better and better. Funnier and funnier. The phone falls from higher and higher. I don't mind being the brunt of their funny stories. At least I am part of a good story they can tell.

Is That A Chainsaw I Just Heard

Time for our second legs of running. C-Steve is off and running. He requested no bike or water support. He was on his own. And we for the most part, let him be on his own.

Before we broke camp and left the exchange area, I had to check on my fallen runner. I paid a visit to the luxury van and saw Stacey laying across the seat. She was bandaged on her palms, elbows, knees and toes. She looked miserable but was still managing to smile. She was not sure if she would be able to run her third leg but it was still too early to tell. I told her the Captain would figure it out when it came time. It wasn't like she was just giving up cause she was tired. The damn woman was attacked in the fog by a Bridge Troll. Remind me. I have to show C-Steve a map of where Stacey went down and see if he has any family living near that bridge.

We loaded up the van and headed towards the next exchange to wait on C-Steve. We passed him along the way and gave him some shouts of encouragement. "Your doing great Steve. Your on pace. Hurry your ass up. She's catching you. You big sissy." Now I mention "she" because during C-Steve's first leg, he happened to almost catch someone and then razzed the person and their team when he finished. Well on his second leg, he caught up to a woman and then pulled ahead of her. Well as he was closing in on the final 50 yards or so, she catches him and passes him in the exchange box. To this day he denies this ever happened but we do have the proof below.

As you can clearly see C-Steve is to the right and the woman is to the left. Plus in the other photo he is showing the hand sign of second place.

Jason was off on his second leg and also requested no bike support nor water. His run was mostly going to be on a paved trail. He again only wore his shoes, shorts, headlamp and safety vest. He passed seven other teams during his run. I drove us to the next exchange but did not hear a sound from Redhead or P-Funk-U. I was not even sure they were in the van. I could just imagine them being back at the camp area in the port-o-lets. Brake check. I hear them now.

B.o.b. was our next runner and now it was time for me to get on the bike. It was as much my demand as it was her request for me to bike. It was pretty damn dark and she would be alone on some trails and I was not letting anything happen to any of my girls on my watch. Or at least the girls in my van. Sorry Stacey. Had I been your bike escort, you would not have fallen. I'm just sayin'.

Jason trotted in and handed off to B.o.b. She was off and so was I. All her run was on paved trail. We could not see a thing other than red blinking lights ahead of us. I am sure it is beautiful scenery during the day but couldn't tell you. Wait, did I just type beautiful scenery. The "twins" are playing tricks on me.

There were some parts on B.o.b.'s run that felt like we were out in the middle of the woods. I could see some lit up farm houses right off the trail. I was thinking, this would be a perfect time to start-up a chain saw if I lived in one of those houses. I even teased B.o.b. a little about this very subject. I told her that she would have to be the bait until I got the creature killer ready because if I got taken down first then she was on her own. And balling up in to the fetal position only works on bears. Just sayin'.

There was one thing I kept noticing during B.o.b.'s run. There were never any issues when I gave her water. I was hoping she was kind of paying attention to how the whole water from bike to runner to bike process works.

B.o.b. kept a nice steady pace going. She passed four other runners. She also "chicked" one guy. Those that are unfamiliar with the term "chicked", it means a guy was passed by a woman. That "chick" being B.o.b. Now towards the end of her leg, she started slowing down. I kept telling her that there was someone behind us catching up. This caused her to pick up her pace and finish strong. When she got to the exchange, she looked back and saw no one. To this day she thinks I was making it up so she would not slow down. B.o.b., there really was someone behind you. You ran a great leg. If you zoom in on the pic, you can see in her face how much she put in to her leg.

Now B.o.b. passed off to our next runner. Her name escapes me right now.

Next: "No. No. No man. I ain't gay."