This road down a criminal path gets me into new territory. I’ve seen a lot more bad drivers since my fall from grace. I know that animals seek “their own kind”, so maybe that’s why I seem to be surrounded by the vehicularly (is that a word?) challenged. But the animals do that for mating purposes. You don’t think I’m being stalked do you?

Thursday Jean and I were going to the Y to lift weights. Jean saw me relaxing in the chair after I had run a 4 mile tempo run and decided we should do something. Even though this is off-season from triathlon training, apparently rest isn’t allowed. Anyway, on the way there the traffic was moderate and all 3 lanes going North were full of cars going about 50 or 55. A young guy apparently wanted to go faster so, when we got to one of those merge lanes coming out of a business, he passed the cars in the far right lane by darting into the merge lane and then back onto 19.

On the way back, we were going down County Line Road. There were quite a few cars, but the speed limit was 50 and I was going…you guessed it…50. A young guy passed me on a double yellow line and went between us and an oncoming car. He passed several cars ahead of us and the last we saw him he was passing another car on a double yellow line and an oncoming car had to veer toward the shoulder to keep from hitting him head on.

Our friends, Ernie and Barb Strong called and asked us if we would like to go to dinner at St. Sebastiaans that evening for the “grouper special”. They picked us up at 6 and, when we left our place, Ernie blew right through the stop sign three doors down from the mobe. Oh well…I chose to break the law and now I’m dragging my buddies down with me.

The weather has been good the last few days and Saturday was about as perfect as you can get. Sunny with a few passing clouds, low to mid 70s and a light wind from the SSW. We wanted to go for a long bike ride at San Antonio, but they were racing on the same roads we wanted to ride, so we went to Anderson Snow and did the North route. Our longest bike has been around 37 or 38 miles. We both wanted to kick it up a notch. Since I’m just getting over a cold that went down into my chest, I wanted to go around 50 and Jean wanted to go around 60. Dr. Phil says that marriage is a compromise, so we compromised at 58.66 miles.

I don’t have good endurance…never have…never will. My legs got a little tired but my butt was really sore. That rarely happens to me. I started squirming on the seat at around 40 miles, got very uncomfortable at 50 miles, and I was in agony the last 3 or 4 miles. Maybe I’m getting “geezer butt” and that’s just the way it’s going to be.

We were planning to go to Dade City (about 5 miles past San Antonio) and watch some of the road races today, but Jean got a bad blister running and we got some bad news from Hastings, so we probably won’t go. Besides, the Pro 1 and 2 race starts at noon. Here it is 11:55 and Jean still hasn’t taken her shower after the run, so we’d get there just in time to see them finish.

My second batch of beer is percolating in the closet wrapped in my YMCA t-shirt to keep the light out. Later in the week I’ll test the specific gravity and bottle it when it’s ready. When we get back to Michigan we may have to have a combination “Run Around Crooked Lake” and beer tasting at the same time. However, believe it or not, after I run the 8.6 miles around the lake, one of the last things I want is a beer.

‘Til next time,

Just (My Butt’s Sore But I Still Love To Ride) Jack

P.S. Sorry to hear about Mary Youngs. Our thoughts and prayers are with Steve and the boys.

 I’ve joined the raft of lousy drivers here in Florida. Yesterday Jean and I had planned on driving out to San Antonio and riding a 40 mile bike loop. Friday night the weather reports said that a front would be coming through mid day Saturday. They said there would be a SSW wind at 20-30 mph before the front passed, then a NNW wind at 15-20 mph after it went by with a 60% chance of rain.

We decided to do the ride anyway and drove over early enough so we could get out on the ride by 10. We left at around 9:15 and were on our way out SR-52 going toward I-75. A fifth wheel trailer had pulled off to the side of the road, and got back on the road about 300 yds ahead of us. We followed it for the next 14 or 15 miles.

When we got to Bellamy Brothers Road, there was a traffic signal. The fifth wheel was so tall that even 5 car lengths back, I couldn’t see the light. I had just said to Jean “I hope the light is green because I can’t see it”, when the trailer passed through the intersection. The light had turned yellow and the trailer decided to go on through without slowing down at all. By the time he was halfway through, the light was red and there was no way I could stop. So I broke the law. There wasn’t a police car around so I didn’t get a ticket, but I should have. I expect I’ll see myself on America’s Most Wanted in a couple of weeks.

By the way, the ride was decent. We decided to take the 40 mile route that we know (which is really only 36.72 miles) so we wouldn’t be far from the car if things got bad. Since I hadn’t been feeling well, I got tired at around 30 miles. There was one stretch of road where we were going directly into the wind and it was definitely 30 mph with higher gusts. It was all I could do to climb some of the hills with the wind in my face.

We turned West and the wind was coming from our left and slightly into us. It was all we could do to keep the bikes on the road. The road was busy and there was no shoulder so it wasn’t the greatest experience but, all in all, it was a great ride. By the time we finished it was 70 degrees but still windy. We went to the bike shop, looked around a little while and headed for Hudson. The sky turned dark and within 10 minutes the temperature had dropped to 57 and the rain started. Great timing, huh?

I still didn’t feel very good during much of this last week, so Jean went to the YMCA without me. The other day she came back and said “You would have loved the trip”. She got to the corner to turn into the Y, and there was a woman sitting there in the wrong lane waiting to pull out onto Mariner. Down here they have demand lights which will only turn green if the sensors can detect a car. Since she was in the wrong lane, the sensors didn’t see her and her light never changed to green.

Jean couldn’t turn in, so she sat through a light waiting for the woman to move. She didn’t and a young guy coming from the other way pulled in and went on the grass to get around her. Jean finally decided she had to do something so she turned and went around the woman in the wrong lane since no one was coming. Jean said she parked in the parking lot, looked back, and the woman finally turned right from the left lane. Now I’m that same class of driver, so I shouldn’t comment on how dumb she was.

We whined a little about our run this morning. It was around 40 and the wind was blowing at least 20 mph. We don’t mind the cold, but the wind made it very uncomfortable. I ran 8 and didn’t get into a coughing jag until mile 6. Not bad but it made it hard to breathe.

We didn’t have anything else to do today so we drove to Pinellas Park again to get 48 more empty beer bottles. I’m going to brew another batch of beer with the same recipe but a different malt extract. They’ll be about the same age so we can have a taste test when they mature to see which one is best. On the way down and back we saw several drivers that just about caused accidents. I got their license numbers and will contact them to join my support group in the Pasco County Chapter of Idiot Drivers. I’m sure they’ll elect me treasurer.

Ta Ta,

Just (I’m A Criminal Now) Jack

 Last week I flew up to Hastings for a Wednesday evening meeting 1/25 and the regular hospital board meeting 1/31. One of the things I hate about flying is the germs and one (or more likely a billion) of them got me. I always wash my hands before I get on the plane and wash my hands immediately after I get off. So where did they come from?

Tuesday I had a doctor’s appointment at 8:30 to go over some annual blood tests and I felt fine. I started feeling tired at the board meeting and, by the time I got to the airport, I knew I was in for a cold. By the time the plane took off, I was miserable. It’s in my sinuses and has gone down into my chest and I feel like crap, hence the title of this e-mail.

It couldn’t be from running last Sunday in the rain. It’s a virus and you can’t get a cold from being out in the rain. You can’t get polio from running through a mud puddle. And you don’t go blind or grow hair on the palm of your hand from “pleasuring yourself” (the old joke is “I’ll just keep going until I need glasses”). Now, granted, being cold and wet may lower your resistance but, and it’s a big but (not to be confused with a big butt), the germ has to be there.

So, being the information geek that I am, I looked to the web for advice on whether I should run today or not. Almost all of the articles say that if the cold is in your chest, don’t run. So, today I didn’t. Now I have this fear that I’ll lose so much fitness that I’ll have to start all over again at 3 miles. I don’t mean to whine, but I am. I think it’s because when you don’t feel good, you are looking for sympathy. Just be thankful I haven’t described what I’m hacking up when I get in one of my coughing jags.

I’m not sure why I always seem to be involved when the conversation deteriorates. Last Sunday was no exception. We were at Bill and Nancy Bradley’s, unwinding from the run in the rain, and Erin Bradley was talking about her ceramics class projects. Somehow the conversation turned to coffee. Out of the blue, Becky commented that in some countries they feed coffee beans to Civets, a small mammal that resembles a weasel and is related to the Mongoose. Anyway, the Civet Cats eat the ripest coffee beans, and an enzyme in their body processes the outer fruit leaving the coffee bean. The beans are then gathered (what a crappy job that must be), dried, and ground into coffee.

Of course that brought about a horde of jokes with one theme like “Pardon me waitress but this coffee tastes like s%&*!”. While searching the web to see if Becky’s story was real, I saw a quote by humor author Dave Barry that says “It’s not really coffee…it’s poopacino”. The articles say it has a strong, distinctive taste (duh!!) and some people (me, for sure) don’t like it.

Somehow that conversation turned to camels, and Larry related how some camel herders (are they herders or tenders or camel jockeys?) keep their camels from eating and drinking water for a long period of time and then feed them marijuana. When the droppings come out, they are used much the same as hashish. It’s not the traditional way of making hashish, but the camels are probably very happy to be the middle man. Of course, the jokes started again about lighting up a bowl of s%&* and getting high from it.

I’ll have to admit (just kidding, Mom) that I’ve not been an angel growing up (that’s assuming that I have grown up), but lighting up a camel turd never crossed my mind.

As soon as Jean gets back from running, we’ll head for Pinellas Park (in the heart of metropolitan St. Petersburg) to pick up some beer bottles. Hopefully they’re empty…I need around 54 to bottle the beer we brewed a couple of weeks ago and I don’t think Jean and I can drink that many, even on Super Bowl Sunday. Hopefully I won’t bottle any of these cold germs and save them for later.

Jane. Sorry to hear about your Mother. You and your family are in our thoughts and prayers.

Ta Ta,

Just (Feeling As Bad As Road Kill Looks) Jack

b/t/w/  Any admission of wrongdoing while growing up should be ignored…I’m delirious from the cold!

 Not much is happening down here. For most people it would be boring, but for us, we’re doing what we like to do and that’s not all bad.

We usually lift weights two days a week, bike four days a week, run three days a week and swim two days a week. As many of you know I have a reaction to the chlorine in the pool. The past couple of times have been a real adventure.

A week ago last Friday I swam for about 45 minutes non-stop in the pool at the YMCA in Spring Hill. I felt like I could have swam (or is it swum) all day. I had a good pace going and never got tired. I finished at around 4 PM and by 8 I had broken out under both arms, my right leg up near the area where it attaches to my body, and my left shin. Those were the spots with blotches about an inch and a half in diameter.

On at least 25 spots elsewhere on my body there was a dot. Well, not a dot exactly…it looked more like a mosquito bite. Every area itched like poison ivy and it drove me crazy. I awoke at around 3:30 AM Saturday morning and couldn’t get back to sleep.

This week, I waited until Friday to swim again. I took a Benadryl before I went, swam for about 55 minutes, and took another Benadryl some time after I came back. I took another around dinner time and another when I went to bed. I had some spots, and they did itch, but they weren’t nearly as bad as the week before. I know I haven’t solved the problem, and the advice everyone gives me is DON’T SWIM IN THE POOL, but that’s not an option.

We went out Wednesday with our friend Larry from Buffalo, NY and met a friend of his from Albany, NY at the Withlacoochie. We did an easy ride out to around 16 miles. Their wives were back at the car waiting and only one of them did any riding, so we turned around to go back. It was slightly into the wind, but flat as a pancake. We stopped at one of the crossroads and tried to figure out how far it was back. I thought it was 5 miles, but Larry and his friend Larry (I know…the line from the Newhart Show was Larry, his brother Daryl and his other brother Daryl), said it was closer to 7 miles.

Larry said that if Jean could make it back to the car in 20 minutes, he would give her a prize. For you people who are math challenged, in order to go 7 miles in 20 minutes you have to average 21 miles an hour. Not a problem. Jean took off, Larry and Larry kicked it up and rode right with her and I hung on for dear life. Larry and Larry dropped off with about 2 miles to go to cool down, but Jean kept going and I stayed 3 or 4 bike lengths back. Before you think I think I can keep up with Jean, I know that I was going full out and Jean, I’m sure, wasn’t.

Thursday night we decided we would go out to Mike’s Dockside for dinner and we asked our friend Jan Kietzmann if she would like to go with us. Actually, as I think back, Jean and Jan decided to go to Mike’s and asked me if I wanted to go along. Anyway, when we got there, a guy was directing traffic to park in a field across the yacht basin since it was “Bike Night”. My first thought was that we could have ridden our bikes, worn our Trilanders jackets, and blended right in. WRONG!

The bikes were motorcycles and, by the time we left, there were at least a couple hundred of them. We ate inside and, when we got there, there were only two other tables being used. About the time our meals came, about 20 bikers (male and female) came in, pushed four tables together, and sat down. I asked Jan and Jean to go over and tell them they were being a little loud, but they didn’t want to act like they were flirting with the guys when their girlfriends were around. Out of the 20 people at that table, apparently one guy didn’t get the memo about the dress code, since he was the only one not dressed in black and it was mostly black leather.

When the bill came, I grabbed the pen and drew what looked like a tattoo on my forearm. I’m not sure that helped me blend in as I walked out in my Asics running shoes, white Smartwool crew socks, khaki shorts and my North Face pullover.

Oh, well. I am what I am!

Just (Trying Hard To Fit In) Jack

 On last Saturday (New Years Eve) we rode the Suncoast Trail North from Anderson Snow Park to the end. We rode with our friend from Buffalo, N.Y., Larry, a 70 plus year old fanatic bike rider. If he’s healthy, I can’t keep up with him. This year he’s recovering from a surgery and it’s taking a while for him to get back to full strength. The plan was for Jean and I to ride to the turn-around and Larry would ride shorter than that. We stopped in the parking lot to adjust Jean’s bike computer and, two minutes later, Larry rode in.

When we left, Jean took off a minute or two before Larry and I did. We were chit-chatting about altitude (70 feet difference from start to finish in 18+ miles). When we took off I let Larry take the lead. He tried his best to catch Jean, but ran out of energy about half-way back. He kept urging me to go get her, but I told him I wasn’t in a hurry, and just followed. He told his wife (jokingly) that I “wheel-sucked” all 18+ miles back, but, if you know me, you’d know I stayed about 4 bike lengths back.

My odometer read 38 miles and his read 37. If you’ve read enough of these you know that I like to be accurate (I’ve started to attend weekly meetings where I get up and say “My name is Jack and I’m obsessive”). Larry told me the mile markers on the Suncoast between SR-52 and SR-54 are right on the button and I could find out which of us is right.

So, this past Wednesday, Jean and I did a ride on that part of the trail. My odometer said 33.33 miles, but obviously it wasn’t right, so I can’t say how far we went. During the early part of the ride I looked at my odometer at the same time I passed a mile marker and it said 12.41 miles. I kept looking at each mile and it looked like I was recording something over 1.02 miles. After the eighth mile my odometer read 20.59 miles.

The horror!!! The humanity!!! Something had to be done. We went out to dinner that night. But before we went, I got on the Sigma Sport website (a German Company) and downloaded the instructions to change the wheel size setting on my bike computer. I got out the calculator, divided 8.00 miles by 8.18 miles and multiplied that number times the millimeters programmed into my bike computer (1333) and got 1303.5. I spent several minutes trying to decide whether to change it to 1303 or 1304. I changed it to 1304. I couldn’t wait to test it again. That’s not obsessive is it?

Well, yesterday (Saturday) we did a 24.35 mile short bike. When we started it was 50 degrees and when we ended it was 48 with wind from the North at 10 mph, gusting to 18. Balmy for Michigan…cold for Florida. I looked at the bike computer at the first mile marker and it read 6.79. I looked at each mile marker before the turn-around at SR-52 and it stayed right on. The last one read 11.79, so I’m as close to accurate as I can get. The final test will be for me to take my Garmin (a GPS device I use for running) and see how it comes out. Oh Joy!!!

Jean and I did a short ride on Monday. We went from Anderson Snow Park South to SR-52, which is around 11 miles one way. The wind was blowing around 15-20 straight from the South with some higher gusts. When we got to SR-52, we stopped for a minute, got a drink (Gatorade, not Margaritas), and started back up. We were going with the wind and were cruising along at about 19 mph.

All of a sudden, a young 20 something girl passed us. Jean was in the lead and we stayed behind her for about a minute. I could see Jean squirming in her seat and I knew what was going to happen. She just couldn’t stand being passed. All of a sudden she sat up a slight bit, and took off. In about ten seconds she passed the girl, said something about the wind, and broke away with me right on her heels. At times we were in the 26 mph range riding the wind. After a couple of miles I looked back and the girl was nowhere to be seen. Sound like Jean?

It’s warming back up today and it looks like the rides this week will be when the temp is in the low 70s. We’re getting lots of saddle time in, but the trails are getting boring, so we may venture out to San Antonio (about 25 miles East of here) and do a 40 mile loop through the “Kumquat Capital of the World”. If we stop at the theme park, we’ll take pictures.

Just (Happy To Be Comfortable Riding Again) Jack 

 The other morning I was thinking about going for a bike ride and the weather forecast was for wind and rain. I stepped out on the lanai (front porch) to see what the weather was like. It was a little breezy, but the clouds looked like they were a long way off, so I decided to go. As I was getting my bike ready I heard a strange sound coming from down the street. It was garbage day and a woman had run over her garbage and was dragging it down the street under her car.

She stopped right in the middle of the road, got out of the car, slammed the door and stomped back inside. Seconds later I saw her husband come out, get on his hands and knees, and pull the bag out from under the car. She was standing there with her arms flailing talking a mile a minute. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but my guess was that her hubby wasn’t very popular for placing the garbage right behind her car. Forget about the fact that it could have been the neighbor’s grandchild. It definitely was his fault.

On the male side, the other morning I was eating breakfast when I heard another strange sound outside. It was raining and the wind was strong, but it sounded like someone was dragging another garbage bag down the street. Almost! Apparently the wind had blown on of the top off a plastic garbage can and a car was dragging the top down the street. The guy backed up, the top became dislodged and he drove around it, leaving it a block from where it had hitched a ride.

Monday night I went to the Club Wildwood Civic Association meeting where a new board was elected. The outgoing President had aggravated some of the residents (she says it was the group that lost last year’s election) and spent several minutes pouring salt into those old wounds. She ended her talk by saying that she didn’t use the “F” word as she was accused. A few minutes later, when she asked for old or new business from the floor, one of the residents got up and said the President did too use the “F” word. Sound like 5th grade?

I had walked over to the meeting and we could hear thunder, so I didn’t stay for long afterwards and hurried back to the mobe before the rain set in. As I walked down the street and got closer to home, I saw my across the street neighbor standing perfectly still with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked to be talking to someone in the car parked in the driveway. WRONG!!! As I got closer I realized he was facing me and, to put it delicately, he was relieving himself in the front yard right under the front porch light. Again, sound like 5th grade?

I have been running the perimeter of the park (1.45 miles) since my left knee started acting up so I don’t get too far from home. Each loop goes by the tennis courts and, most mornings, I see a group of 4 to 7 players. They play doubles. After each game, the server goes out and is replaced by one of the “bench sitters”. I know one of the guys is 80 (he’s from Hastings) and one of the guys is 86 (he’s from England). The others are in that same age range.

You would expect them to just be hitting the ball back and forth and not moving much. Wrong!! They certainly don’t have the lateral movement that younger people would have, but have excellent shot placement. They don’t try to overpower their opponents, they finesse them. I’m impressed!

Yesterday I did a 33+ mile bike again out at Starkey Park. It ended up being “nature day”. On the first 6.5 miles out to the Suncoast trail, I saw a small doe, an armadillo, chased a raccoon down the trail for a while and saw a “monkey squirrel”. That’s not their real name…it’s just what the locals call them. They are really Sherman’s Fox Squirrels and are twice the size of our Fox Squirrels. They have a black splotch (is that a word?) on their face that makes them look like a monkey, hence the local name.

On the way back, I saw another monkey squirrel, another armadillo and a five point buck. This combined with all the different birds makes me think that Becky would be going nuts and probably wouldn’t be able to hold the dogs back.

On this morning’s run, in the rain, I saw a large Tom Turkey along with a smallish Hen. They went between the neighbor’s mobe and the one next to him. I didn’t follow after them, respecting their privacy. I saw them later on the other side of the park. I don’t know what happened in the meantime, but he was sitting back in a La-Z-Boy chair with his wings clasped behind his head smoking a cigarette. The hen was fixing dinner, doing laundry and trying to get the kids ready for church. Sound familiar?

I headed back to Michigan next Saturday for a couple of Hospital meetings and will fly back down the 21st to Tampa. Mom will pick me up there and bring me back to Hudson. At around 2 I’ll jump in the car, head for Orlando and pick Jean up at the airport at 4:40 or so. We’ll kill some time, hang around, and pick up Rocky at around 7:30. By the time we get back here, it will have been a long day.

Just (Chilly, But Warmer Than Most Of You) Jack