Old Adidas Ads

I don't remember this ad campaign, but these are some fun ads.

http://www.chayden.net/Runs/Adidas/

Running hills in flat Texas

I know Texas isn't known for its hilly terrain. But just about any runner will tell you, if you don't find the hills, they'll find you eventually. Fort Worth isn't the Hill Country, but there's a neighborhood near me that has some challenging climbs.

These pictures don't really give the full picture.  You have to run the hills repeatedly in a short period of time to truly appreciate them!

This image captures the elevation change somewhat.  Funny how the long climb at the beginning of the run doesn't seem as bad as the short, steep ones in the middle. 

Great Brazos Relay video

Kevin brought his video camera along and got some footage of the team.  Enjoy!

(By the way, the audio for the first 90 seconds or so is almost inaudible.  We introduce ourselves, make finish time predictions, and make inane comments.  Then once the race footage starts it's just music.  So feel free to mute it until we start running.)

Running Strong at 70!

I saw this in the paper this morning, and have to say "Wow!" I sure hope I can keep going like that when I'm 70! You have to admire anyone of any age that can keep going for 72 hours straight! The 1/2 mile loop for 72 hours sounds impossibly dull. I guess the monotony makes the feat that much more admirable--the winner is the one who lasts the longest without going certifiably insane!

http://www.star-telegram.com/other_sports/story/1782362.html

70-year-old is running for his life

Posted Sunday, Nov. 22, 2009

BY JOHN HENRY

Special to the Star-Telegram

Finally confronting what he called the mess he had made of his life, Ed Rousseau had to make a choice.

He decided to run.

Forrest Gump’s jaunt appears a mere 5K compared to the miles the septuagenarian Rousseau continues to log. On Sunday, he completed the 72-hour portion of the UltraCentric Experience at Murrell Park in Flower Mound, going 205.328 miles.

That’s equivalent to running to Austin and then some.

But it was miles of a different sort that Rousseau was putting on that became the source of some major problems in his life.

“In today’s world, I’d be a felon,” said Rousseau, 70, referring to a sixth drunk driving offense more than 30 years ago. “I was a raging alcoholic at age 40.”

What better motivation to change than fear. Especially the fear of losing your job and, worse, your family.

“I was afraid at that point I was going to lose everything,” Rousseau said. “What do I do in the morning when the addiction is still there? I go for a run. That’s what running means to me.”

Soon, Rousseau’s life and change collided.

“I was sitting there looking out the window one morning trying to figure out what I’m going to do with this mess I’ve made of my life and a jogger went by,” Rousseau said.

“So I broke out some 30-year-old Converse All-Star basketball shoes from the back of the closet and some old sweatpants and I went for a run around the block. I couldn’t make it around the block.”

Rousseau has come a long way, literally and figuratively. To say he is devoted to his new life is an understatement. He travels throughout the country from his home in Minneapolis for races. Sunday was his 77^th ultra marathon (ultra is defined as any run longer than 26.2 consecutive miles), and he has run 86 marathons.

His bad stretches now consist of nights like Thursday when he was the last runner to seek shelter during a driving rain storm that drenched the area around Grapevine Lake. He stayed on the USTF certified half-mile circular route for an hour by himself, now motivated not only to run but to break records.

Rousseau, who mentors recovering alcoholics, has gotten good at this, too. During this race, he set an American record in the 70 age bracket by completing 58.11 miles in 12 hours. The 48-hour American record is also likely his, pending certification. He completed 156 miles during that span.

Hung-Kwong Ng, 44, a software engineer from Orlando, Fla., was the event’s overall 72-hour winner. Proving that all terms are relative, Ng said he wasn’t really in shape for the race but nonetheless ran 243.54 miles. Fred Davis III ran 181.89 miles. Renowned ultra runner Amy Palmeiro-Winters, who runs with a prosthetic leg, put in 61 miles in 11 hours, 49 minutes, 4 seconds. That will be submitted for the 100K American record. A scheduled mountain bike portion was canceled because of the rain.

Rousseau said he got in about four hours of sleep during his 72-hour excursion. But whatever fatigue and soreness he’s feeling today beats the heck out of a hangover and a night in the county drunk tank.

All the result of a no-nonsense cop and a tough judge. And the will to change.

“You can have fun after alcohol,” Rousseau said. “Even at age 70.”

Great Brazos Relay: And the Last Shall Be First

Last weekend 7 teams of 7 runners embarked on a race destined to become a Texas tradition. The inaugural Great Brazos Relay drew 49 enthusiastic runners for a logic-defying 120 mile relay race from the campus of Baylor University to Lake Bryan, Texas. Six of the teams consisted of Baylor students. The seventh team was made up of runners who are, well, a little bit older. That seventh team, CJ's All-Night Runners, included: me and a Baylor Chamber of Commerce pledge brother (both of us 40), two other Chamber alumni (35 and 42), a current Chamberman, and two other friends (37 and 30). With an average age of 35, we decided we would take on these ultra-fit, zero-body-fat college athletes and see how we compete.

Modeled after relay races such as those put on by the Ragnar Relay Series, this relay will take place each year on the weekend of the Baylor/Texas A&M football game, changing direction each year to end up on or near the campus of the home team. We gathered for the race on Friday afternoon at the Baylor Ballpark. We fueled up on bananas and granola bars, got thoroughly hydrated, and sent the first 7 runners on their way at 2 p.m. Throughout the next 12-18 hours, each runner would run 3 legs, taking turns driving, running, sleeping, and eating (and pooping by the side of the road, as one of our team members who shall remained anonymous did!) until they reach the final destination at Lake Bryan.

Several times we got a kick out of the age difference. At one point we were visiting with Ricky's fellow Chambermen (who stayed with him all night long! Talk about dedicated friends!). I told them Pat and I had pledged Spring of 1989. "Yeah," one replied, "I was born in 1989!" Another girl had a sticker on her car from a dealer in Corpus, where I grew up. I asked her if that was her car, to which she politely replied, "Yes, sir," as if I were one of her parent's friends. Actually, I'm probably as old as her parents!

The running abilities of our team varied somewhat. We had Ricky, the current Chamberman and member of the Baylor Triathlon Club, who ran a 3:17 marathon last weekend, and Kevin, who ran cross-country in college, where he still holds his school's record for the mile at 4:06. We figured these guys would make up for some of the slowness of us older guys. I must say, however, that the old guys on the team exceeded their own expectations and predictions for their pace times.

I ran the 7th leg. When I took the baton (actually a slap bracelet), we were definitely in the mix. I followed a girl who started out a few minutes before me. I could see her a couple hundred yards in front of me. I ran hard trying to catch her, but never could. I imagined her trotting along with little effort while I was huffing and puffing like a steam locomotive. I did close the gap quite a bit, but she was too fast.

By the time I was getting ready for the 14th leg, it had already become clear that we were not going to catch the collegians. Two of our team were struck with IT band pains and could hardly walk, much less keep up their paces from their first legs. But the whole team pressed on, giving our best effort to finish well.

My brother Mark, who had been setting out the course markers, surprised me by stopping by to run with me for a few minutes. It was nice to visit with him. How often do you get to chat with your brother while running on the highway in the middle of the night? After he left to go home to his warm bed, it was a long lonely run, and I swear it was all uphill. Who assigned me this blasted uphill run? Oh yeah, I assigned the legs.

I should add one not-so-minor detail about this race. I am not exaggerating to say that it rained all night long. Constantly. Sometimes it was a mere mist, sometimes a downpour. Most of the time it was a gentle, soaking rain. With temperatures hovering the the mid- to high 50s, it was perfect running weather. But waiting around at exchanges for your turn to run, it was freezing! We were soaking wet for much of the time. Most of use went through several shirt changes, and the cars, full of wet towels, clothes, shoes and socks, took on that distinctive smell of wet, sweaty men.

I ran all my legs in my Vibrum Five Fingers. I forgot that last time I ran in them in the rain, the seam rubbed me raw in one spot. If I had been thinking, I would have put on my anti-chafing cream, which works well, but I wasn't thinking, so I have big marks on my foot. I won't be running in them for a few days, and I'll try to remember putting on the anti-chafing cream. I was pleased to learn that Kevin is a barefoot running enthusiast. He had his VFFs on and some of the college kids were gawking. After he walked by they asked me, "Is he really going to run in those things??" Funny.

Selfishly, I am thankful that I did not have to run in the hardest of the rain. Nor did I have to run on that muddy, muddy road that Ricky ran on! I am sure that in the light of day, with the sun shining and the ground dry, this looked like a perfect place to run. The course description called it "a well-maintained gravel road." But in the middle of the night, in a steady rain, after many hours of rain, it was slippery, sloppy, deep, and wet. Ricky heroically powered through, got past the mud, and finished that leg despite his injury.

In the pre-dawn darkness, I began my third leg. Since one of our runners had to drop out due to injury, we had to move everyone's leg up. So instead of running the last 3.6 mile leg, I ran the penultimate 5.1 leg (which also seemed to be all uphill!). But that meant that Pat, our lead-off runner, would have to run a fourth leg. He was more than willing, but I felt sorry for him, so when I passed off the slap bracelet to Pat, I kept running, and ran the whole last leg with him. The sun came up, and shortly we entered Lake Bryan Park. As we entered the park, we were greeted by a bunch of cars full of college kids cheering for us as they left. Looks like we missed the awards ceremony.

When Pat and I got to the finish line, we met the rest of our team, Ricky's faithful companions, and the race organizers. Four of us took our final lap--the other 3 were in no shape to run--then had our own awards ceremony. We may have been last overall, but we were first in the open division! We got our first place mugs, finishers' shirts, and some snacks, and took off for the showers. (Actually, I was visiting with Kelli, the race director, and then turned to go back to the car, but my team had left me! Luckily, I remembered that Kelli had called Eric earlier, so I used her phone to call him to come back and get me.)

Our total time was 17:21:56, an average pace of 8:49 minutes/miles. Not too bad, especially considering our injuries. But not fast enough to compete with the college kids. We finished about 45 minutes behind the slowest team, and, I think a full 3 hours behind the winners. But our course record for the open division will stand for some time!

This was a fun course, especially given the setting. The stretch of Texas between Waco and College Station is not the most interesting, but there were some nice views, at times, some fun runs, especially when we got off the larger highways, and friendly officers of the law. I'm glad Kelli and crew put this together and hope it will grow, not just with Baylor and A&M students, but with the general running community as well.
I didn't get very good pictures.

Ricky, Shawn, and Eric gearing up.



One of the exchanges. I obviously do not have the knack for flash photography with lots of highly reflective surfaces.

Kevin, Eric, Rich, Shawn, Pat, and me waiting for Ricky.

Shawn's car, a little worse for wear. I hope he managed to fumigate it before his wife saw it.

Things Seen While Running: Animals That Don't Want a Piece of Me

After yesterday's downer posting, I thought I would feature some of the more friendly animals I encounter.

These geese live around the lake by our house. Sometimes they hiss at me, especially if they have babies. But usually they just ignore me.
I don't know about these guys. Why have a donkey and goats in your yard? I guess they never have to mow. The donkey came to the fence and let me pet his nose.
These folks are Going Green with their 100% natural eco-friendly alarm clocks.

This ferocious feline did not want anything to do with me. She simply turned her back and ran away. I took these pictures yesterday, the same day as the dog pictures, but I wish I had my camera this morning. I saw 2 big feral pigs in the ditch beside the road! Big, black, and hairy, they ran off when I approached.

I went by the scene of the canine fratricide. There were no dogs in the yard. I'm hoping for the best.

Things Seen While Running: Dogs That Want a Piece of Me

One of my favorite places to run is a neighborhood a couple miles south of my house. But to get there I have to pass the House of the Vicious Dogs. If I leave early enough, they won't bother me; they tend to sleep late. But most of the time, they are there in the yard. The yard has a gate, but I have never seen it closed. They come after me, barking and baring their razor-sharp teeth. So far I have kept them at bay with my commanding, authoritative voice. But one of these days, they may attack, so I decided I'd better document their efforts.

Here they come, dashing toward me out of the gate.

They jump at me, but fear my wrath should they dare to come closer.

They left me alone, again driven away by my intimidating glare and forceful commands. Also, for the first time I heard someone at the house yelling for the dogs to stay in the yard. I'm thinking I'm going to drop a letter in the mail to politely ask them to keep their dogs in the yard. Otherwise, I might have to show them some dog-fu!

These guys want a piece of me too. Lucky for them, they are secure behind the fence.

These little guys are cute, but they think they're vicious.

Fratricide is as old as Cain and Able, as Romulus and Remus. Today, I had the sad opportunity to witness a canine fratricide. In this yard live 3 dogs, one large and 2 small. When I came upon the yard, one little dog came to the fence to bark at me. I wondered where the other two were. I saw in the flower bed that the big one seemed to be wrestling with the other little one. After a moment, I realized that it was no friendly, two-sided sparring, but a one-sided, brutal attack.

In this picture you can see the poor little white dog's legs, trying to get the big dog off of him. I shouted at the big dog, but he ignored me.

Finally, the big dog walked away. I went down the driveway at the side of the yard for a closer look. The little dog was still breathing, but based on what I could see, it doesn't look good for him. That pink at the neck is not a collar, but a wound. Needless to say, I didn't choose to enter the yard so I could knock on the door and speak to the homeowner; I didn't want to get in the same yard as the big dog.

Poor little guy. Looks like a cutie. I'll have to check in on him next time to see if he survived.