Footprints in the Sand

I walked this beautiful Florida beach, took in it's treasures of nature, saw the Osprey on it's huge nest, watching me with guarded disinterest. I watched the sun set over the Gulf, casting it's golden rays upon the white sand.

I walked this beach. Look behind me and you'll see my footprints in the sand. They are proof I was there. Ha! They'll be gone in an hour, swallowed by the winds and the tide. Such are the temporary nature of monuments to our existence.

Yesterday, I walked through an old, country grave yard. I pulled away some vines and read a bleached-white tombstone that had fallen over and broken in two. The letters were almost worn smooth. "James T. Watson - Died June 7, 1882". Almost 125-years that testament to the man's existence had lasted. I wonder if anybody is still around that recalled the man. Maybe there's a photograph of him tucked away in a shoebox, in an attack somewhere. Maybe there's an entry for him on some lineage database, stored on magnetic tape. I know that he existed. I saw his tombstone, his footprint.

The Calusa Indians lived on this island. Five-centuries ago, Xuanatu-Xi, son of Tsantaa-ze, walked this same beach. He was a brave warrior and a fine artesian. He made the feather-and-bead headdress that was worn by the chieftains of his tribe for 4-generations.

The Calusa buried their dead in shell mounds, which became quite large over time. With no written language, the history of their ancestors was passed through songs and stories. They were a proud, powerful people, with a well-developed civilization. All of the tribes from the West coast of Florida to Lake Ochecobee paid them tribute

The Spanish came in the 1500's, and, with their diseases and guns, they ended the Calusa people. The shell mounds were used to make the nearby highway. "We didn't know what they were", they said.

Yes, I walked this very same beach. Just look at my footprints in the sand.

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I spent the Memorial Day weekend at Lake Leatherwood near Eureka Springs, Ar. They have excellent mountain biking trails and that's what I did Satuday and Sunday, about an hour each day. That's about all the mountain biking my body can take right now. I ran an easy 4.5-miles on Monday. My legs felt sore and stiff, so all I did was 10-minutes eliptical, 10-minutes of stationary.

I kind of put on some weight while on vacation. I made a pledge to not drink any alcohol until the Corporate Challenge Duathalon a week from Sunday. I made it today. The first day is always the hardest. After mowing the lawn tonight, I wanted a beer soooooo badly...

One Shining Moment

Last weekend Shelby, the daughter of my running buddie/ex-girlfriend Shela, played in the National Championship game of the NCAA Div II tournament. The shots above are of her scoring the winning run that sent Emporia State into the finals. This was Shelby's Freshman year, and like most Freshman, she saw limited playing time. But, when she got a her chance in the big game, she delivered. That's what winners do. I'm sure she will become a key player Emporia. Maybe next year they'll win it all.

It should be noted, that I did give Shelby a lot of pointers when she was 12 and Shela and I were dating. Looks like she was listening. She was a winner even back then. Well, now that softball is over, Shela doesn't have any more excuses to not train. I hope you feed off Shelby's example and make a athletic statement of your own. Boston, maybee??

I ran an easy 4-miles today after work. Still not quite recovered from Sunday's race. Should be good to go tomorrow, though.

Bike #2

I still have a lot of pics left from the bike race in Lawrence. Here are some more. I'll put some more out in a couple of days.

Yesterday was a recovery day. I'm usually pretty sore the day after a race and yesterday was now exception. I walked to the River Market and rewarded myself with a slab of ribs. I was still a little sore today, but, I ran about 2.5 miles and then rode the stationary bike for an easy 15-minutes. I've really become a proponent of the bike lately. It seems that I can get some quality workouts in, and it's still easier on my body. I plan on giving myself a heavy dose of bike riding this summer.

I have a mile-run time-trial tomorrow. It's for the Corporate Challenge tryout. There is some competition, but, I'm pretty confident in my abilities. I was once an athlete, you know.

#2 Tries Harder

Sunday was show time. Time to see what I had in me. I honestly didn't know what I could do. I wasn't even sure if my calf would hold out. It was a great day in May. The heat was no problem at 7:30am. I felt really good. It was one of the few times that I actually got a good night's rest prior to a race. The key is to wake up early the day before.

The duathalon was a 2-mile run, an 11-mile bike ride, ending with a 3-mile bike ride. I didn't have the heavy legs you usually feel when you get off the bike and start the run. In fact, I felt pretty strong. I even finished with a little left in the tank.

I got second place in my age division, a pleasant suprise. I haven't ran over 15 total miles in the last 3-weeks. I did do a decent amount of biking. It seemed to carry over into my running. I plan on doing much more riding in the next few months. It seems to be a little easier on my body.

I took some pics after I finished, but, the top athletes had already finished. The pics of the "also rans" were kind of interesting. Here are a few of them. The first girl in the red is Suzy. She was the female winner of the duathalon. I finished just ahead of her. I know I did pretty fair when I can finish ahead of the top female. She's a great competitor.

Mo Betta Blues

Saturday night at Knucklehead's, a friendly biker bar. This bar was the new home of the Blues in KC. It used to be The Grand Emporium, but, that bar changed owners. I was there on their last night. I remember tearing off the concert posters of all the great (and not so great) bands that had played there over the years.

Well, the torch has been passed. Ronnie Baker Brooks, the son of Chicago Blues legend Lonnie Baker Brooks was playing there, and the bar was packed with blues lovers. Many of them, were member of the KC blues society.

From the opening notes, he rocked the house with his driving, Chicago Blues sound. Just like his dad, at one point he goes out into the crowd and to the bar, playing the guitar with a beer bottle at one point. His dad would play it with his tongue. Jr. didn't do that.