Yesterday afternoon was hot. Ninety-plus degrees hot.
But my planned run on the Great Western Trail promised shade for much of the way. So I parked the car and wandered over to the trailhead and stretched a bit. A mother and daughter walked past and started their run ahead of me.
I figured that I might catch them at some point. For one that was true. For the other, not so much. The mom was rolling along at 9:00 pace, which is faster than I typically warm up the first mile. The daughter, she was flying. Like, almost out of sight flying.
As the mile marker passed I did catch up with the mom. “That first mile is awful,” I offered. She smiled and laughed. Then I picked up the pace a little.
She’s rolling
Looking up the trail a bit, I could see the daughter several hundred yards ahead. Her long ponytail was flying back and forth, catching sunlight as she passed through the tunnel formed by the trees. The old railroad bed has been a trail now for thirty-plus years. But I still recall the engines and long trains running down the line.
During the second mile, with my body warmed up a bit, I dropped the pace from 8:55 to 8:10. The trail crosses a street and passes through more trees to the two mile mark.
Return trip
The daughter came whipping back in the other direction. She was cruising. While I was moving along pretty well, catching her was clearly out of the question.
As I started back from the two-mile mark, a pair of scratchy footsteps showed up behind me. Taking a quick glimpse back, something in me decided not to let the guy pass me. The third mile dropped to 7:47. I wasn’t straining. But the guy was still running ten yards behind.
That annoyed me a bit. Whatever his motivation, kind or cruel, I rather wished he would make up his mind to either pass and leave me in the dust or come run along beside me. As it was, his scritchy feet kept their pace, so I dialed it up another notch.
Dialing it up
Now I was running 7:00 mile pace. It was actually in my mind to do a short, uptempo run with negative splits. So I wasn’t necessarily running faster just to beat the bastard behind me. But it worked as a motivation. So I kept on running.
The trail goes up and over a bridge above Peck Road. I was running so smoothly by then, my feet hardly made a sound on the wooden slats. And when I came down the other side to return to the gravel trail, the sound of my semi-invisible foe was gone.
Perhaps he just turned around and went back to where his run began. I didn’t study him long enough to know whether he was a young guy just toying with me or what. At any rate, I kept the pace going up the incline and back to trailhead and clicked my watch at exactly four miles and exactly 32:00. That meant eight-minute pace, flat.
“Not a bad run,” I thought to myself.
Introductions
Emily Martin of New Mexico Lobos
Walking around the parking lot to cool down, I noticed the mom and her daughter doing the same. I complimented them both on their running and learned that the young lady just graduated from the University of New Mexico, where she’d just earned All-America status in track and field with a time of 15:52 for the 5K. That’s a fast time for any runner.
Her name is Emily Martin and her mother Diane raised a family of athletes, all high achievers. She ran for Rosary in high school and was All-State. We chatted about how strange it was to lose her senior year track season to the pandemic, and what comes next, since the NCAA appears willing to grant her one more competitive year or season. But where should she go?
As a nursing student, there is a definite career track to follow, and plenty still to learn. But first she might consider nursing her running career a bit further. Clearly she’s got tons of talent. Yesterday on her training run she averaged 7:20 per mile. I might have been able to keep up if I was racing at that pace these days, but it would have hurt eventually. For Emily, it was just another brisk run for fitness. I miss those days. LOL.
I love meeting people who love to run. And clearly, some of my competitive urges remain in this body and brain of mine. It took a while to stop sweating on such a hot day, and the memories of flying along at my own best pace stick with me too.
There’s always someone faster than you, I reminded myself. And often it’s a woman.
Some days you wake up, get dressed and get on your way without much thinking about what to wear.
But for reasons deep within my peachy skull, today I wanted to wear orange.
I like orange. It makes me happy. Orange is a color with tons of meanings. Here’s what the Internet says:
Orange…combines the energy of red and the happiness of yellow. It is associated with joy, sunshine, and the tropics. Orange represents enthusiasm, fascination, happiness, creativity, determination, attraction, success, encouragement, and stimulation. … In heraldry, orange is symbolic of strength and endurance.
What’s not to like about the color orange? Those are all qualities I love to exhibit in my own personality. So I tossed together an outfit that pulled out every bit of orange I owned, except the shorts. I had to maintain my full Dad status somehow.
That orange Nike cap is one that I’ve owned for 15 years at least. It is a stretchy fabric hat that has shrunk slightly over the years. It’s a little tight now, but it is such a happy tinge of orange I refuse to throw it away.
The orange shirt is also a Nike product. I bought it back when I owned a pair of orange and gray running shoes, the only pair of that color combination I’ve ever owned. And sure enough, I also owned a pair of matching orange running shorts. Those I lost over the years. What a shame. LOL.
The socks were given to me last Christmas. They say RUN FOR BEER on the back. The shoes are a gift from my friend Monte who was convinced to buy a pair of Newton running treads by a kid at a local running store. They never fit him and those raised ridges on the forefoot just game him sore arches.
And let’s not forget the deep orange underwear that I am wearing under my Dad Shorts! Those were a Banana Republic gift from my wife. Orange you glad that I shared this picture with you?
So there you have it, Orange from Head to Toe, and why I’m wearing it. Enthusiasm, fascination, happiness, creativity, determination, attraction, success, encouragement, and stimulation. … In heraldry, orange is symbolic of strength and endurance.
I’ll keep the orange shirt and socks on during my run tonight, and probably the hat too. The shorts I’ll substitute with something suiting more for running. And then I’ll go out and show some strength and endurance. But not my underwear.
Reports on the website IWasPoisoned.com provide real-time reports of food poisoning across the country.
While we’re all eager to get back to dining out, and restaurants welcome us back in the wake of this pandemic, it is a good time to appreciate the laws governing healthy food handling practices.
In case you don’t realize the importance of governmental organizations such as your county health department, all it takes to appreciate such laws is a tour through a website such as IWasPoisoned.com. The site gathers information about food poisoning events from real people like you and I.
At the risk of making you never want to dine out at a fast food restaurant ever again, we’ll share an example of a testimonial (if you want to call it that) about a food poisoning experience as reported on Iwaspoisoned.com. This one is from a Burger King near my home that captures just one of thousands of such reports:
“I got an Impossible Whopper combo meal yesterday for lunch. Within an hour I began feeling as if something was wrong. I soon began to experience vomiting and diarrhea. I took an anti-nausea medication, which stopped the vomiting, but the bloating of my abdomen and the diarrhea continued for several hours after. I realized that, the last time I got an Impossible Whopper from a different location, I also got sick in the exact same way. Prior to this I had eaten the Impossible Whopper several times without incident that I can remember. After an online search I found several reports that other people have experienced food poisoning-like symptoms after eating this product. Clearly there is a dangerous problem here that needs attention. ”
Have a pizza that, willya?
My own experience with food poisoning is fortunately limited. But I nearly died from the worst incident of all. I visited a pizza franchise restaurant while in Michigan for a national track competition. That night is one I’ll never forget. After racing in the steeplechase on Saturday afternoon, I ate almost an entire medium pizza, then went back to the hotel with teammates to sleep it off.
An hour or so later I started feeling queasy. For the rest of the night I was violently sick and threw up everything I’d eaten and more. At an already lean 139 lbs at 6’1.5″, I was skinny, plus a bit dehydrated from racing in the heat that day. Overnight I lost nearly six pounds in water weight and wound up with aching ribs and tingling fingers from dehydration. The convulsions associated with devastating food poisoning continued well into the morning.
As was the practice in the days of close college expenses, our track teammates shared beds in the hotel room. My college roommate and I shared a bed, and he was forced to deal with the dire situation. In the morning, our coach came in to check on me and told me everything would be okay. I replied, “If you don’t take me to the hospital right now, I’ll die.”
So we drove to the hospital and they plopped my skinny body into a wheelchair. In the emergency room I was pumped full of IV fluids and essentially force-fed some thick nutrient drink and bananas. Thus somewhat recovered (more like saved) I was discharged and we drove to Illinois where coach dropped me off at home.
Heat vs. Poison
For years I thought it was heat prostration that had caused that illness. It made sense that racing in conditions when the temps were in the high 80s and equally thick humidity could make you sick. Then one day while running on a hot day, I was thinking back on the circumstances of that race and suddenly recalled eating that pizza. A light finally went on: “That wasn’t the heat,” I said out loud during a run. “It was the goddamned pizza.”
Food service nightmares
I’ve worked in food service on several occasions during my life, specifically in the college union where the job included cooking scrambled eggs and flipping pancakes, to name a few. The pressures of keeping up the pace while taking precautions to make sure food is properly prepared is the responsibility of everyone that works with food. And that’s where the laws of local health authorities have the most impact. Or not.
Right now the website for the Kane County Health Department that oversees laws governing food and other safety issues is dominated by information about the Covid-19 pandemic. The reports it shares are both helpful and daunting. It sure makes you appreciate the food precautions being taken at everything from restaurants to local grocery stores. Those gloves and masks worn by food service employees are critical to protection of public health.
Because food poisoning really can get bad enough to kill you. But it’s also not the only thing we’re concerned about right now. Preventing the spread of Coronavirus infection is vital to public health and safety. Despite that reality, there are selfish dweebs on Twitter right now boasting that they’re never going to wear a mask because it infringes upon their personal freedom. That is ignorant, naive and irresponsible. But that’s the mentality of people accustomed to selfish denial of reality.
The poison menu of denial
Illustration of Donald Trump by Christopher Cudworth
This pandemic is far worse than it should be, you see. From the outset, the United States was served up a menu of denial and indifference from the President. That led to two months of delay in our country’s response to the Covid-19 pandemic.
Yet Trump’s supporters love to claim that he did all he could to respond to this public health crisis. But that’s a poison lie. In fact the real pandemic in this country is the dialogue being served up in support of a man who doesn’t give a damn who gets sick and dies as long as he’s allowed to claim victory and get re-elected for his own sake. Clear evidence of that indifference is the waiver Trump requires attendees at his own rallies to sign so that he can’t be held responsible if they take ill and die.
This is the actual language posted on the registration site for Trump rallies:
By clicking register below, you are acknowledging that an inherent risk of exposure to COVID-19 exists in any public place where people are present. By attending the Rally, you and any guests voluntarily assume all risks related to exposure to COVID-19 and agree not to hold Donald J. Trump for President, Inc.; BOK Center; ASM Global; or any of their affiliates, directors, officers, employees, agents, contractors, or volunteers liable for any illness or injury.
That’s a big Fuck You and Tought Luck If You Die to his own supporters. So you can imagine how Trump regards the rest of us, the majority in this country placed at risk by his own Fuck You attitudes.
Green hamburgers
This image was admittedly stolen from somewhere on the Internet. Take credit if it’s yours or I can take it down. But it sure fits this screed.
It’s like Trump is serving everyone hamburgers green with decay and his supporters are gobbling them up as if they were food from the gods. Meanwhile nearly 120,000 Americans have died since Trump declared the whole thing a “hoax” that would “disappear” like a “miracle” because he waved his tiny hands and declared it so.
If you’ve ever had food poisoning, you’ll know that it’s not a hoax. If you’ve been sick with worry during this pandemic, or had this illness or even lost someone you know to Covid-19, you know that it isn’t Fake News.
But this pandemic is also far from over, health experts predict. The worst part of that reality is the Poison President still has control of this country and is encouraging people to flaunt the laws prescribed to protect us all. As a result, even more people will get sick. More people will die. The really sick part is that the President of the United States does not give a damn who lives and dies as long as his deluded base of supporters somehow vote him back into power. His religious backers claim that God is on his side. That makes God a vicious, mendacious brute who loves some people more than others because they simply want their way.
Report Trump at IWasPoisoned.com
Every single person infected (or affected) by Covid-19 should report Donald Trump on Iwaspoisoned.com. In fact the whole country should call in sick and report the President for not wearing a mask in public. For not trusting the warnings of his own health inspectors and pandemic experts. For refusing to act when he could, then blaming everyone from China to the Democrats for his own failure in responsibilities. The poison Whopper that Trump served the United States was that Covid-19 was all a lie. It’s enough to make you puke.
This is what I wrote on IWasPoisoned.com. You can do it too.
“Every time I sit down to eat in America right now, I feel sick at the thought that our nation was poisoned with Coronavirus and Covid-19 due to the delay of action by the President of the United States of America in taking proper precautions to prevent the spread of this disease. He refuses to wear a mask in public. He is holding rallies while requiring his attendees to sign a waiver excusing him from responsibility if they get sick. This is poisoning to our nation.”
I Was Poisoned should hear from all of us.
Note: This is the public information posted on IWasPoisoned.com to educate people on the dangers of food poisoning:
What is food poisoning and how you can get it
Food poisoning is common, costly and preventable. The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) estimates that 1 in 6 Americans get sick from eating contaminated food every year.
It can happen after food has been adulterated with physical, chemical and biological contaminants — or any combination of those. Physical can include such products as rubber or glass; chemical can include such toxins as bleach and mercury; and biological can include many types of bacteria, viruses or parasites.
Food can be contaminated before it reaches a grocery store or home kitchen, and sometimes those who prepare food at a restaurant can pass along norovirus – the germ that is the leading cause of foodborne disease outbreaks worldwide.
Things are a bit different at the pool now that we’re Back in the Swim.
This morning marked the first day back at the pool. Our fitness center has all the precautions in place, including hourly deck-cleaning sessions to chemically treat the surfaces outside the pool water.
It seems strange and extreme to watch people going through these motions on our behalf. Part of me feels guilty for even taking advantage of such efforts. But the gal at the desk admitted she’s glad to be back at work, “I need the money!” she chuckled, faux-clapping her hands together.
And that’s how it goes. Our needs and wants are what will drag our economy and the country back toward some sort of normalcy. It stuns me that 70% of the American economy is based on consumer purchasing. That doesn’t seem healthy in many respects.
As for the water in the pool, it was clean and clear and cool. I swam a mile at just under 2:00 per hundred yards. Not fast, but not terrible either. It felt good to put the pectoral muscles and lats back into use. My fitness is good from running and cycling. I guess I’m grateful all around to be active, engaged and trying to stay healthy.
Hope you enjoy the video I made about Back In the Swim. There will be more video features on this blog in the future.
In this photo I’m in 31:00 10k shape (right) with my former college teammates during a 1984 training run.
At one point during my early 20s, I worked part-time jobs while training nearly full-time as a distance runner. Though I knew I wasn’t world class by any means, the mood among serious runners in the early 80s was one of commitment. It felt like mission to find out how good you could be.
In the years 1983 and 84, and bleeding somewhat into the year 1985, we all raced frequently and as fast as we could go. This wasn’t the “I did a 26.2 or 13.1 set.” This was hard, fast 5Ks, five-milers and 10Ks. It was the occasional ten-mile road race in the heat of summer, or the cold half marathons of mid-spring and fall, when the temps shivering your skinny ass at the start and winds often buffeted those willing to stay out that long.
Quite a bit of self-knowledge and discovery comes from a few years of that kind of effort. I learned so much that there came a time, not long after I got married in 1985, that I realized the journey of hard competition should come to an end.
Over the years, I kept running because it saves my brain from the native anxiety and brain chemistry that is part of my genetic makeup. Plus I like staying fit. Finally I added cycling as a complement to running in the early 2000s, and in 2014 even swimming entered the picture.
Perhaps you have a journey that is much different than mine. It might have started in high school or much later in life. I’ve profiled a number of people in this blog during the last eight years. Their stories fascinate me. Their missions too. From young athletes to aging warriors like myself, their stories are all important.
I often compare my own continuing journey to the people met along the way. But sometimes I even compare the journey of today with my own history all those years ago.
That happened while I was engaged in a twelve-mile run with my wife Sue along the Fox River from North Aurora up to Geneva and back. My length of runs has been steadily increasing throughout this winter and spring. After a sucky, painful, disturbing year last year, 2020 has seen a bit of recovery.
In 1985 with my brother-in-law Paul Mues in which we teamed up for a duathlon.
If that seems strange to say in the face of a pandemic and a wobbling economy, so be it. We can only tend our own garden, to quote the book Candide.
Week-by-week, as my wife can testify, I’ve added a mile to the weekly longer runs. It started with 6-7 miles. Then came a few runs of eight. A nine-miler was encouraging in that my hips did not tighten up as they done the last few years during long days. Finally I topped ten miles and the Garmin said, “Congratulations! Your longest run!”
The goal is the run 13.1 in a healthy fashion so that I can do a Half-Ironman someday. Ironically, I haven’t even done and Olympic. That’s only because I was alternately injured and sick most of last year. But my swimming progressed throughout and swimming a mile is now possible for me. In fact, I enjoy it.
The mission to recovery of fitness includes mental health as well as physical training.
That and the hip tightness was holding me back from tackling a Half-Ironman. But yesterday I ran twelve miles with negative splits the last four miles as I dropped rom 9:00 to 8:40, then 8:20 and actually ran the last mile in mostly sub-8:00 pace.
At the nine mile mark it was clear in my head that the run would end well. It was still possible that I’d tighten up, but every time that thought entered my head I relaxed and shortened the stride slight and kept running easily and faster.
I’ve been on a mission of self-recovery. Perhaps you have been down this path as well. I’d love to hear your story if you’re willing to share. It’s a fun thing to engage in the profile process as my recent subjects can testify. Where have you been? Where are you going? What motivates you? Let’s talk.
Public Restrooms are closed in most parks and forest preserves. That puts athletes in a crappy bind.
While most of the world is sick of Shelter At Home orders and stores and businesses being closed due to Coronavirus, those of us that run and ride and swim face a genuinely vexing problem while we try to stay healthy, get fresh air and get outside to keep from going crazy inside.
All the public toilets are closed.
At least, that’s been the case here in Illinois for months now. That means when nature calls, especially on the run, one has to improvise. Which means crapping in the woods.
I’m used to that after fifty years of being an outdoors type. And by necessity and years of earnest triathlon training, my wife’s gotten pretty damned practical about these issues too. And they are issues. To be dealt with. Sometimes urgently.
First resorts
During our ten mile running route on trails from North Aurora up to Batavia or Geneva and back, there is just one bathroom that’s been available for the last three months. That’s the McDonald’s in Batavia. So that’s our first resort. But sometimes the urge to crap hits sooner than that, or later. That means hitting the woods is our last resort.
My instincts and nature knowledge point me to wide, broad leafs such as maple or oak. These work well as toilet paper even during the winter months. They may be a little chilly then, but they do the trick. During the summer months, those are good options as well. Grapes leaves are probably the best of all, since they are quickly recognizable, tear off the vine easily and typically offer a plethora of options once you’re near the plant.
Poison ivy plants have three leaves in a pattern like this.
Leaves of ass
In spring and summer, the danger of going to the bathroom in the woods is coming into contact with poison ivy and poison oak leaves. Both typically grow close to the ground. The classic poison ivy leaf arrangement is three leaves as pictured at right. But sometimes it grows as a vine, and can climb up trees. So does poison oak.
Both are plants that most of us want to avoid touching at all costs. Years ago I contracted a case of poison ivy that would not go away because little to my knowledge, the oils that cause the itching coated my boot laces. Every time I touched those boots I was picking up more poison ivy.
Treatments
I treated it with a product that dried out the oils over a period of a couple days. The stuff is called Tecnu and I will testify that it works. It’s best to use it in the shower as I recall. You scrub it on and leave it on. It’s gritty in texture and actually feels good as you rub it on the red spots. It’s like you get to kill the rash. I like that. After a few minutes you wash it off, being careful to wash your hands with it as well. But follow the instructions on the label. Don’t trust my version of it.
Worst case scenarios
If you contract poison ivy badly from squatting down in the weeds to poop, it can spread quickly and badly. One of our female athletes at Luther College stopped to “go” during a 20-mile run and did not recognize poison ivy when she chose a plant with which to wipe herself. It spread throughout her system and she had to wear bandages all over her body.
So while you might find yourself having to take a crap in the woods while the pandemic restrictions on public bathrooms remain, I’m telling you that you don’t want to mess around with poison ivy. Learn what it looks like, and how to avoid it. The American Academy of Dermatology has information about what to do if you get a serious case of the itches. It is recommended reading if you living wherever poison ivy and poison oak exist.
It’s bad enough having to crap in the woods. You don’t want to take crap like a poison ivy skin infection home with you. It’s one of the tarsnakes of being outdoorsy that you run risks like this. A little knowledge goes a long way.
For several decades our family tradition was spending the 4th of July in my in-laws’ back yard. We’d light small fireworks all day until everyone smelled like smoke and gunpowder. My son grew to love the pyrotechnics and his uncle took him on road trips to sellers like Crazy Kaplans in northwest Indiana to stock up on fireworks for the 4th of July.
One year my brother-in-law invited friends to bring their stash and the sound and fury was so loud the police actually showed up and confiscated piles of unlit fireworks. The more powerful stuff is illegal in Illinois, so it was against the law.
But my quite-conservative father-in-law acted quickly and hid even more fireworks in the garage before the police could find them. He was literally born on the 4th of July. It was an important holiday to him. As a reader of the National Review and devout Missouri Synod Lutheran, his deep strains of independence stretched all the way back to his unbringing on the Republican River in central Nebraska. His brothers used to shoot an occasional bald eagle for sport.
As for my 4th of July traditions, I’d often find a race to run that morning. Typically they were four-or-five milers conducted in the heat and humidity or whatever combination July decided to offer. I well recall the year that I tangled with a local guy on his hometown course. I ran sub-20:00 for four miles and still place second. It was racing fireworks the whole way as we exchanged the lead repeatedly and tried to shake the other on the hilly course. It may well have been the best race I ever ran, but on that day, my competitor’s hometown pride carried him to victory.
I was pissed at losing, but watching his buddies smack his back in congratulation actually made me feel better. At least I gave him a good run. I was part of a thrilling contest for everyone.
After those races every year, I’d go shower and change into shorts and a tee shirt and join the fun blowing off fireworks while drinking beer and eating potato chips, hamburgers and birthday cake in celebration of my father-in-law’s Big Day.
The Big Show
Then twilight would fall and we’d gather in front of the house on Woodale Avenue to witness the unleashing of the Addison fireworks. Our perch allowed us to see everything but the ground displays, but I’ve always thought those were stupid anyway.
Some years I’d be so tired after racing in the morning and drinking and eating all day, it would be hard to keep my eyes open. But I liked when the super thick boom of a strong firework seemed to send a concussion our way. That sound was satisfying. But the strained traces of smoke floating through the air always made me a little sad. They reminded me that summer was also floating away.
Those fireworks displays lasted probably twenty minutes. The Grand Finale would rock the skies and we’d OOoohh and AAAaaah for a few minutes, then give a round of applause to no one but ourselves. Despite all the supposed honor and glory of 4th of July Fireworks and what they’re supposed to represent, in the end they’re just another form of self-pleasure, a form of visual masturbation if you please.
There’s nothing really wrong with that. America has always been a nation driven by symbols, pageantry and coarse stimulation. It is also a nation of self-gratification and perpetual distraction from the problems we actually face. Fireworks act as an antidote to the droll heat and humidity of summer, and the smoke keeps the mosquitoes away. People can’t pay attention to other matters when they’re swatting bugs away from their faces.
Painting by Christopher Cudworth
Fading smoke
The longer I live the less fireworks grip my imagination. Plus the sound scares the daylights out of our dog, and many others. Last year I sat on the couch hugging our shivering pup, whose early life as a abandoned stray included sustaining a broken leg after being tossed out the window of a car. Then the poor thing was kept in a shelter next to a gun range. Now whenever she hears anything resembling a gun shot she cowers and tries to run for home. Even the nail guns of roof construction make her shiver in fear. For these reasons, I’m not particularly looking forward to the 4th of July.
Flag Waiver: Painting by Christopher Cudworth
Plus I’ve come to view such celebrations in alternate terms. I don’t like trucks bearing Old Glory flying next to Don’t Tread On Me flags. I’m not fond of flag-flying other than a modest, attractive, respectful display on a home or a flagpole. And if someone chooses to burn a flag in protest, I care to know the reasons why, not just write them off as a radical. The real American virtue is protest. Our nation was founded on that premise. It’s greatest changes have come about through revolutions of one kind or another.
It’s sad that so many people that live in this country have to fight for rights that the Constitution supposedly provides. That is true for blacks and Native Americans, Latinos and Chinese, Korean and Japanese, East Indian and Middle Eastern. The whole list is impossible to assemble, but it also includes woman and gays, transgender and autistic, the homeless and the homebound. And artists like me. There are as many kinds of discrimination as there are people in this world. Both the Bible and the US Constitution try to prevent that, but often fail.
A nation gripped in irony
To me, our so-called Independence Day has come to represent a nation gripped in irony. And those fireworks we set off every year? They certainly don’t celebrate the rights of all. But the skies may well be largely silent this year. The Coronavirus has turned such celebrations into a risk of spreading that disease.
Perhaps that means there will be even more people blowing off fireworks at home. The police may be kept busy chasing down the loudest of the loud in areas where such antics are still illegal. Here in Illinois, one can only buy the weak stuff. But the borders of Wisconsin and Indiana beckon. For some people, that trip remains a pilgramage. I’ve done that in the past.
Or maybe not. A WGN blog reported, “The fireworks industry has been hit hard by the coronavirus pandemic. With 4th of July fireworks shows canceled across the country, many fireworks companies are seeing a 75 to 90 percent decrease in business. Greg Kaplan, owner of Krazy Kaplans Fireworks, joins Ji to discuss how the virus has impacted his business and the fireworks industry across the country.”
As we’ve seen in regions across the country, there is always the chance that people will flock to fireworks stores once they open up again. Health officials will issue their standard annual warnings about the dangers of fireworks.
People will still go out and blow off fingers and knock out eyesight and damage hearing.
That appears to be what Americans are best at doing, blowing off the law for the right to endanger themselves and claim independence. It’s a frightful little cycle of violence and disenfranchisement that America embraces. But that’s our tradition.
At some point, perhaps in the near future, we’re going to figure out that it’s not the fireworks that really matter. It’s the people watching them, every kind of people, who symbolize the real independence we all claim to celebrate.
As the years pile up, the words “You’re fast” aren’t heard so much. On a typical day, my per-mile pace is 3:00 slower than it was while running in my 20s and 30s.
That is why it was amusing to hear the words “You’re fast” when a young man came running past me on the Great Western Trail today.
I didn’t hear him coming until he was about fifteen yards behind. At that point I turned to see who was catching me. While I’m slower than I once was, there still aren’t that many people that pass me by on a typical day’s run.
I’d covered the first two miles in just over 9:00 pace, which is close to my “base” or average training rate these days. .
The third mile I slowed because it was humid in the woods. I came through in 9:31. But when I started back east I started to feel light on my feet.
Perhaps I was warmed up. Or maybe it was the east breeze cooling me off on a humid morning. Whatever the reason, I was picking up the pace without trying. The next mile dropped to 8:44, and the second half of that mile was much faster than the first.
Young again
During the last mile I felt young again. Clipping along at sub 8:00 pace, I loved the feeling of effortless running.
At the same time, the young man that eventually passed me must have been closing the gap. When he did, and he uttered those words, “You’re fast,” I laughed called out. “Who do you run for?”
“No one. I run for boxing,” he replied. And kept going. There’s a Muy Thai place not far from the trail. He must kick ass there too.
My Old School
Before today’s run I’d stopped to speak with a group of ten kids waiting around at the trailhead to go for a run. The Covid laws still stipulate that even groups of teammates could not exceed ten people. I talked with them at a safe social distance about the fact that their team had won the state title in cross country the previous fall.
“Well,” one of them mumbled. “We’re not the ones who did that.”
I made a sweeping motion with my hand and replied, “Guess what?Everyone here was a contributor to that effort. The whole team matters.”
I meant that. But I should have told them, “You’re fast,” because compared to the rest of us in this world, they probably are.
On occasion here at We Run and Ride, we profile an interesting athlete. Over the eight-plus years this blog has existed, we’ve interviewed dozens of people from local heroes to world class athletes and even world champions such as Craig Virgin and Emma Coburn.
Today’s profile on Karah Osterberg is special because she’s not only a talented athlete who has qualified for the Kona World Triathlon Championships, she’s also a champion for the foster and rescue dogs she and her husband Sean take into their home.
We talked a bit and Karah provided some interesting perspectives on her life as an athlete, a data analytics professor at Northern Illinois University and her commitment to finding safe and loving homes for dogs that get a rough start in life.
And how has this year’s crazy stuff with the Coronavirus affected you?
Medals from the 12 Ironman competitions Karah Osterberg has completed. She’s now qualified for Kona.
Luckily, I have a treadmill at home, bike trainer, weights, etc. I definitely missed swimming a ton until I recently could get in lakes and start swimming again. During the 2.5 months or so without gyms being open, I spent a ton of time focusing on run and bike workouts. I also have a strength coach who made me some videos to help me keep in shape for when I went back to swimming and those majorly helped!
In terms of racing, it pushed back a lot of races to the fall which I am hoping those happen! It also postponed me going to Kona until October 2021.
In terms of work, I’m lucky because I already taught half of my classes online BEFORE Covid hit. So transitioning for me was easy and I will be teaching online through the fall semester.
Were you in school athletics? If not, how did you get started?
In grade school I did a lot of gymnastics and volleyball. Once I hit middle school, that transitioned to track and volleyball. In track, I was actually a pretty decent short distance runner (200,400) and did high jump and was the best girl on the team for that (oddly since I’m short).
I then went to high school and did swim team year round. I swam varsity all 4 years and focused on short distance events. Ironically, I would cry my way out of swimming the 500 yard swim in high school, yet now am completely fine swimming the 2.4 mile (4200 yard) long Ironman swim. I sometimes wonder how much of a better distance swimmer I would be if I had accepted that back in high school!
What aspect of triathlon first attracted you…swim, bike, run?
Competing in Arizona.
Actually it was kind of all three. With swimming being my background, I don’t think I would have ever thought about triathlon if I hadn’t swam. When I went away to college, I had spent 4 years swimming competitively in high school year round, sometimes swimming 3-4 hours a day.
It mentally wore me out and I decided I didn’t want to keep swimming in college. However, after going away to college and enjoying the free time I had, I started to miss swimming after a few months but didn’t want to go back to swimming constantly. I decided I’d swim a few days, run a few days, started biking and lifting some.
After a few years, I realized I was basically training for a triathlon and decided to sign up for a local super sprint triathlon, which I won 1st overall female and 2nd overall with the guys. After that, I thought triathlon might be a good sport for me, went all in and purchased a triathlon bike, and did 10+ races the next year. Ever since then, I’ve done 10-15 triathlons a year including 12 Ironmans and 10 half Ironmans!
Osterberg grew up swimming, and has become a strong cyclist and runner as well.
What were a few earlier experiences from which you learned?
I realize now that at first, I really had no idea what I was doing. I ended up running too much or trying to run too fast and ran into a few issues with my IT band. I also refused to take days off thinking I’d lose fitness (sometimes I even did this when sick).
I realize now that triathlon is a lot of easy training with SOME harder stuff and that days off are necessary sometimes. I’d say I just took everything way overboard. I still look back at that as a lesson though. When other people were drinking their college years away, I was getting up at 5 to be in a pool. It taught me a lot of discipline that helped me get my job as a professor and have success in triathlon!
How has having a coach accelerated some of that learning?
Swimming is one of her best triathlon disciplines.
In 2014, I did Ironman Louisville the year it had a 105-110 degree heat index. It was my 3rd Ironman (3 years in a row at Louisville). The first year, I just wanted to finish. The second year, I ran a lot more of the marathon and dropped a few hours off my time.
In 2014, I bought a house and moved out. That kind of led to me easing up on the training. Oh, it’s fine if I cut this 80 mile ride to 60 today or this 20 mile run to 10. That led to me feeling like death in that Ironman and walking half of the marathon (combination of bad training and bad nutrition).
I ended up totally losing motivation after that Ironman and ironically ended up meeting Steve (Brandes, her current coach) at Lifetime. I showed him the training I was doing, and he said why are you doing this? He completely changed it.
In 2015, I remember thinking wow this training is different…harder swim sets, harder intervals, but a lot of easy stuff too. I did everything he told me to do (and still do almost 6 years into our coaching relationship). I did Ironman Arizona in 2015 and ended up going 11:12, 6th in my age group, and ran a sub 4 marathon. It was the first time I thought I might have potential to go to Kona.
By 2017, I won an Ironman swim for my age group and got on an Ironman podium! Since then, Steve has taught me so much about what my body responds to, nutrition for different environments, my mindset, etc. And during these 6 years of coaching, he has set up workouts that have kept me almost 100% injury free! He’s coached me through 9 of my 12 Ironman finishes. Truly I couldn’t do it without him!
Karah is first at left with fellow podium placers.
Do you have any funny ‘mistakes’ to share; flat tires, forgotten water bottles, dropped nutrition?
Luckily, I have a list I print off to pack with and mark each thing off as I go so I have been pretty lucky in this situation for the most part. One time I went to a sprint triathlon and got there and realized my shoes didn’t have any inserts in them. That was a fun 5k. I’ve also almost hit a cow, a turkey, a deer, a snake, etc. while riding or racing….always an adventure out there!
What is your training load on a typical weekly basis?
This varies a ton throughout the year. In the “off season” or building phase, I’d say I typically train about 10-12 hours a week. This is a lot more of the intensity workouts. During an Ironman build, I’d say I train 20-25 hours a week with a lot more emphasis on distance (while still including some intensity). I also am big into recovery and spend a lot of time on stretching, massage, PT work, etc.
How do you balance work/sport life?
I’m very, very lucky that I pretty much have the best boss in the world. I teach at NIU and he schedules all of my classes for two days a week, meaning I can do work from home on my own schedule the rest of the week. This works out really well for my personal life because I can train a lot during the day when people are at work and it allows me to have time at night to still spend with family.
What are some of your favorite pieces of equipment; bike, shoes, goggles, etc.
I am all about trying things on before ever buying them! So many people buy certain wetsuits because that’s what is considered the “best brand”. But if it doesn’t fit you right, is it really best for YOU? And every wetsuit I buy seems to be a different brand based on what fits me best at that time! And for swimming, I love TYR swimsuits and googles.
I’ve found I LOVE my Trek Speed Concept and my bike shop (Prairie Path Cycles) that takes care of it. They’ve really been key in all of my races because I’ve never ran into any major issues (knock on wood).
I am a huge fan of Saucony and Hoka running shoes. I actually alternate between them each run or based on the type of run because that helps prevent injury by working different muscles. I use a lot of Clif Bloks every year too.
She has completed 12 Ironman events and 10 Half Ironmans.
Do you train mostly alone?
I do 99.9999% of my training alone. I found this is best because it’s easier to do the workouts I’m prescribed without trying to keep up with someone or wait for them. I also found it helps because sometimes I wake up, feel wiped, decide to take it easy and do a workout a little bit later in the day and that extra rest is so beneficial when I need it.
What are some of your goals?
I got into Kona based on legacy status and I would love to eventually get there by winning my age group at an Ironman. I truly think I’m capable of doing it….just haven’t put the perfect race together yet! I also eventually want to do a really crazy trail run like 100 miles or so!
On another love in your life, when did you begin fostering dogs?
I started fostering dogs in January of 2019. My mom was on Facebook and saw this super sad beagle looking for a foster home. As a huge beagle fan (already owned two of them at the time), I decided to foster her. Of course, she never left and is now part of the family and has come a long way from where she was back then!
What are some of the challenges/emotions you feel in that endeavor?
I love every single dog or puppy that comes to my house! Just in the past 12 months specifically, I’ve had 26 foster puppies so far. I really thrive off the craziness of having puppies here constantly.
Shelters are super stressful situations for dogs and puppies! Some of them sit in a corner shaking non-stop. It’s been shown dogs cortisol levels drop significantly just from going to a home for a weekend instead of being in a shelter. By giving them a place to go, they learn to socialize with people and other dogs and it makes them a much better dog in the future when they go to their forever home!
I will admit though, there are some that pull at your heart so much and it is really hard to part with them. I had the sweetest black lab mix puppy right after my dad died that I thought I would never be able to part with. BUT…I also know that if I allow a puppy to leave and find a home, it frees up space to save more.
I’ve had a few that really broke my heart and sometimes people question why I’d want to put myself through that! But when puppies are dropped in boxes on the side of the road, thrown out of cars with broken legs (the author’s dog Lucy…) scared to death from being mistreated, covered in fleas or ticks, or sick from lack of blood sugar, I would rather put myself through the pain of losing them (but also the happiness of helping them find a good home!) and allow them find a happy life and home, just like Lucy did!
Why do you like dogs so much?
Dogs are amazing! They’re way better than people, in my opinion (laugh). They love you unconditionally and truly just bring happiness everyday. It doesn’t matter how bad of a day you’re having, a dog NEVER makes the day worse! As an athlete, dogs are active animals that love to go for walks, be outside, or can lay with you when you’re tired.
I just have a massive space in my heart to save them and be around them. I truly can’t imagine a day where I’m not saving dogs now. The current foster puppy I have came here so timid and scared and I have watched her come out of her shell in only a week. It just makes me feel like I’m doing something really good for an animal that can’t tell you what they need…kind of like my purpose in life!
What are some good rescue organizations?
The organization I foster through is called Safe Haven Dog Rescue. They’re on Facebook and also on Petfinder! Also, Tails in Dekalb and Noah’s Ark in Rockford are two that I follow and respect!
A fun conversationalist
As a followup to our interview, my wife and I joined Karah on a training trip up to a local lake for open water swimming. On the way, Karah related that she and her husband Sean both sometimes work out of the home. That’s a convenience for the most part, but they’ve also learned to give each other the professional space needed to do their jobs.
She also related that her husband found it funny when after visiting a local Taco Bell, they found the order was all messed up. “For me, that’s a big problem with some of the dietary things I have to be careful about. That can endanger people.”
So she wrote a strong missive to Taco Bell, chastising them for the carelessness. “Now whenever I have a complaint, Sean says, ‘Don’t go all Taco Bell about this.”
That story illustrates the challenge of balancing so many things in life. Just when some things get under control, other weird stuff happens. That’s certainly the case in triathlon, in fostering dogs and in visiting fast food places where all the ingredients for joy or disaster can be found in one place.
And that’s life for Karah Osterberg. A bit of chaos and a bit of joy in every day. And she loves it that way, and she’s doggone good at it!
Thanks for reading! Any time you would like to comment, ask questions or get feedback please let us know in the Comments section below. If you’re new to the blog, please give us a follow. And if you know someone that you’d like to see interviewed, send an email to cudworthfix@gmail.com. We’re all in this together!
I get why people move to moderate climates. It’s easy to get sick of cold weather. That’s especially true when you like to spend time outdoors.
These last weeks of May and early weeks of June are special here in Illinois. The weather may go up and down from cool to hot but the days between are amazing at times. We’ve sat outside to have dinner several times and the temperature was near perfect.
All around our house the irises are in bloom. There are deep purple and light, yellow and Japanese iris all in full regalia. As some of the yellow ones tipped over with the weight of wind and rain, she clipped them to bring a bunch inside. I’m so grateful for that. They stopped me in place to look them over today.
On the other hand, I also love the energy that comes with better weather. This past weekend I cruised through another ten-miler with Sue. At one point she turned to me and said, “I feel good.” Which is wonderful to hear from a person for whom running has not always been easy.
My own running has improved this year after 2019 turned into a debacle with a bike accident early on and health issues later in the year due to a tooth infection. Then a dog at the park ran into my left leg and tore the medial collateral ligament. As a result, I got heavy and slow and frustrated over the winter. But I’ve shed ten pounds and am back running healthier again.
Ready for a five-miler.
It was hot as heck yesterday afternoon with temps in the high 80s and a thick wind blowing from the southwest. But I put on the triathlon gear and went for a five miler in the late afternoon sunshine.
I didn’t go fast, but neither was I slow as last year. My average times have been dropping steadily in the last month. My Garmin keeps telling me, “You Set a New 5K Record!” or “Your Longest Run!”
All I can say about that is I’m grateful. Just to be running again. And at my age, to be running at all. So many folks get bad knees or have other issues to take them out. I’ve survived my share of strange maladies and have kept going.
There is even hope of a couple races this summer. But we’ll play that by ear. It’s tough to find anywhere to swim right now. But we’re plotting trips to open water at lakes and the few pools open.
For now, I’m happy with the sights, smells and sounds of spring.
And if you’d like to see some of the other stuff I do, here’s a video of my citizen science adventures birding in the prairie. If you ever have a bird you can’t identify, or get an iPhone pic that you can’t distinguish, send it to cudworthfix@gmail.com and I’ll do my best to tell you what it is.
It’s a great time to get outdoors. Iris it could be like this all year round.
