Day 110: Batty in Austin

Got to Austin yesterday morning. First, the running stuff:

Taking Sunday off was an excellent idea. My knees were sore and, worryingly, my right hamstring (?) was bothering me. Even though I worried about stiffening up on the plane ride to Austin (despite shelling out a few of my own bucks for super-duper leg room), I was also able to enjoy my regularly scheduled day off yesterday... so when I ran today, 5 miles, I was fine. Very pleased. I ran on the hotel treadmill, though, because it was dark when I started my run in the morning -- and still dark when I finished. I'd like to see Austin, which requires sunlight.

Now, the other stuff, although briefly because I still have work to do this night:

The FEMA operation here, responding to Hurricane Ike, is actually pretty well organized -- better than I expected. My two colleagues and I have a lot of work to do and we hit the ground running as soon as we arrived. Today was a long day and tomorrow will be a longer day, with an early-morning drive to Fort Worth for three meetings throughout the day.

Tonight, a bit after sunset, we saw the famous Austin bat migration from under the Congress Street Bridge. Freaky... but none of the bats resembled Michael Keaton. Or Val Kilmer. Or even Adam West.

Lots of Mexican food. Go figure. If ever I remember the distinctions between rellenos, enchiladas, flautas, tostadas, burritos, chalupas, tamales, and all the other stuff, I'll be doing well. And probably eating well, too.

Tomorrow night: ALDS Game One. Go Sawx!

Day 108: Not outrunning the rain (or my own legs)

My knees and right hamstring are sore from yesterday's (almost) 20-miler. It rained all morning and most of the afternoon. And I had an appointment, once more, at Fenway Park, for what was supposed to be the last game of the season, against the vile Yankees. (Yesterday's game was rained out, though, so it was moved to tonight.) Hour-long rain delay obviously didn't help Matsuzaka, who lost; Mussina won his 20th.

I think the knee and shin covers helped me; I slept with them again last night. But the right hamstring really gave me pause, so I skipped today's scheduled 3-miler. I may adjust the week's running to compensate, but I might just end up missing those 3 miles for good. Tomorrow I'm flying to Austin to work with FEMA on Ike-recovery stuff; I may run in the evening, if all goes well. I'm on JetBlue, in an "even more leg room" seat, for which I had to shell out a few of my own bucks above what work paid for the ticket itself... maybe the four extra inches will prove critical!

Day 107: Outrunning the rain

Today was going to be the 20-miler. Then it wasn't. The forecast was for heavy rain, so I decided on Friday to move today's run to tomorrow. (You follow?) This meant that my elaborate plans to run with friends -- Katie for a few miles at the beginning, then Carson for a few more at the end -- wouldn't work out. But there was no sense running through water.

But when I woke up, at an absurdly early hour despite a no-alarm-clock policy, it wasn't raining (though it was wet on the ground). A quick check of the weather radar confirmed that the rain wouldn't arrive for hours. New plan: go back to the old plan.

Katie ran the first 12 miles with me; this meant that I went six miles out on the trail and then six miles back before heading out again. I had no trouble for the dozen, and it was fun to run with and talk to Katie, who agreeably slowed to my asthmatic-ant-with-heavy-shopping pace.

When I turned around and headed back up the trail, I knew it was going to get more difficult. My stomach had rumbled once or twice during the early miles, and at mile 15 I actually had to stop and hide in the trees for a few minutes to make sure I wasn't going to have a problem. (Just a little wind, fortunately, after which I was fine on that account.) My legs began to feel very, very heavy, and by mile 18 my right leg -- somewhat surprisingly, since knee pain and shin splints have usually been more of an issue on my left -- was really stiffening up. I usually finish my runs at the corner of Dudley and Cedar, right near my house, but to get in the mileage, I kept on going, running right through that intersection, which was psychologically weird, but I did it. Total mileage was probably just short of 20 -- I put it as officially 19.6, but I suspect it might actually be 20. (Katie and I were going to turn around at the 5-mile marker, but we kept going for another little bit, and I assume that we ran a mile more, but it might have been a little farther.) The mile 15 break also messed me up a little bit (although, thankfully, not physically).

I did my cooldown walk and then went to Julie and Erik-2's for pancakes. Katie had told me not to waste time showering and making myself presentable before showing up, so I just waltzed into their house, all wet and stinky. I drank some water and ate some pancakes, and I briefly stretched out on the kitcheen floor. My legs began to feel better. My energy level was high; as it was, I ate only 3 of the 4 gels I brought with me on the run, and drank only 3 of the 4 Gatorade flasks. But it was mild and very moist, which I'm sure kept me hydrated. Plus, the past couple of days, I tried to carbo-load. So I didn't bonk (or, for the uninitiated, 'hit the wall').

Post-run diagnosis: pretty good. Some stiffness, especially in my right quad -- or maybe not the quad, but the inside of my thigh, by the knee -- and some almost-blisters. But I wasn't completely exhausted, and I recharged by swinging my legs up on the coffee table, wrapping my knees in ice, watching the second half of "Empire Falls" on DVD, munching through various food items, and drinking. (Water.) We'll see how I feel tomorrow. Sox: Matsuzaka vs. Mussina, in what is, alas, a meaningless game (except, maybe, as a possible boost to Dice-K's Cy Young chances). I used to deride pitchers for putting icebags on their shoulders between innings. Not any more!

Day 106: Mad money

No running today -- and such heavy rain today, and predicted for tomorrow, that it looks like the 20-miler may get postponed.

But today I reached my fundraising goal for the Central Park Conservancy. (Special shout-out to Gary Ritter for bringing me right up to the final line.) This means the only remaining barrier to my finishing the 2008 New York City Marathon is my own body.

THANK YOU to all my contributors, who (presumably) have been foolish enough to believe in me. I'll do my best not to let you down.

For now, I think I'll eat a few more cookies... and then go to sleep.

Day 105: Hit-and-run

The knees are starting to get a little bit sore, which I guess is to be expected by this point. But I woke up early yet again to get four more miles in on the trail, and still turned in a pretty quick time. I congratulated myself a little on my motivation, even, because the thought did briefly cross my mind of just putting my head back down on the pillow and catching a few more winks, but I got out there. Of course, I was brought back to reality on arriving at work when Carson noted that he had woken up even earlier and run seven miles instead of four -- probably taking about the same time!

Sox again in the evening... Lester had a no-hitter going for a few innings, but it emerged later that Francona was going to take him out after six no matter what, to keep him fresh for the playoffs. Now that I have two tickets to ALDS Home Game Two, the question is, will there be an ALDS Home Game Two? (Boston's got the wild card and so will play the Angels, which means we start the series in L.A., and there'll only be a second game at Fenway if neither team sweeps.) Speaking of which, the ALDS and NLDS, and the ALCS, too, are all on cable this season. Phooey. (Yes, I said 'phooey.')

The fun thing about carbo-loading at Fenway (in preparation for the 20-miler slated for Saturday) is letting the food just come to you. However, the pretzel vendor took his sweet time, and I almost lost it, having been waiting since the first pitch for some salt. When he finally started trudging up the aisle into my section, with a halfhearted yell -- "pretzels heah!" -- I nearly knocked him over with my Rocky-like cry of "YYYYYOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Day 104: Alternate reality

It seems like a lot is going on these days... are we headed into the next Great Depression? Is this what October 1929 felt like? (Oh, wait -- October's not until next month.)

Running is kind of an escape. During this morning's four miles (again, unintentionally fast), I enjoyed another autumn sunrise, and watched my breath-clouds dissipate in the early chill. However, as usual, I listened to a "Talk of the Nation" podcast, and that brought me back to reality. Unpleasantly. I prefer "Car Talk," which makes me laugh even as I run, but there's only one of those a week. I guess I could try to download the 20 years of back episodes, but that seems silly.

Bush just finished choking through his address-to-the-nation. I watched NBC initially, but Brian Williams actually wouldn't shut up in time for Bush to start talking, and NBC switched over to the White House even as Williams kept talking, obliviously, in the background. Over at ABC, Charlie Gibson (an old friend of my brother's) had some anodyne closing remarks before the broadcast returned to its scheduled presentation: "Dive of Death," featuring stupid magician David Blaine hanging upside down over Central Park. Actually, some of Blaine's card tricks and other such stuff are pretty freakin' amazing... it's just the dumb stunts -- hanging upside down, living in a glass box, being buried alive or in a cube of ice -- that are annoying.

Millions of people are upside down on their mortgages and car loans, and one man is physically upside down in Manhattan. Only in America, kids, only in America.

Day 103: Shoes & Sox

This morning, I set out to run four miles easy. I ended up turning in my fastest four-miler in quite a while. Maybe it was the fact that I tried out my newest pair of Brooks shoes. Since 2005, I've had four pairs of shoes. The first pair, from '05, wasn't used much for running; I tried them out a few times in the spring that year, when I lived in DC, and shortly thereafter. I remember hiking through Rock Creek Park at one point, slogging through mud, getting them all messed up. These days I use them mostly for walking.

In August of last year, I got my second pair of shoes -- also Brooks Adrenalines. These are orange, and I began running seriously with them in November. In March of this year, when I got the third pair of Adrenalines -- the yellow ones -- the orange shoes got demoted to backup, for use in the rain or before a trip (so that the yellow ones would be dry for packing). Oddly, though, I think the orange ones are in better shape than the yellow ones, which have racked up the most miles of any of the shoes by far, and are in a pretty sorry state now. They also stink.

This morning I ran for the first time with the fourth pair of Adrenalines, which are, again, blue. It does make a difference to run in new shoes, evidently.

After work I went to Fenway and watched the Sox clinch a playoff berth by beating the Indians, and handing Cliff Lee his third loss of the season (although his record is still an astonishing 22-3, making him a prime Cy Young Award candidate). Beautiful night in the Fens, clear and crisp, and an excellent mood in the air. Celebration when the Sox finally won it, on blazing fastballs by fireballer Jonathan Papelbon (who needed to throw only one pitch in the eighth). Love that dirty water.

Day 101: The fall

Don't worry -- I just mean "autumn." As in, today's the first day of it.

Autumn comes early in Maine. On my way back to Cambridge, I got an eyeful of leaves already beginning to turn. Soon leaf-peeping season will be in full swing.

When I woke up this morning, I actually felt fine -- no physical indications that I'd just run a half-marathon. Of course, I didn't run as hard as I could have, since it was mostly a practice run for me. But I remember how I felt after I ran my first 13-miler, and my first 15-miler... and my first 16-miler, and the 18-miler (which might have been a 21-miler)... and I didn't feel anything at all like I did after those. I stopped a few times during the nearly five-hour drive back from Maine and made sure to walk a few minutes each time, but when I got home, I still felt good, so I ran four more miles -- which actually was called for today in the training plan. We'll see how I do tomorrow. I'm not going to sleep with the knee and shin compression things because they're on the drying rack right now... yikes.

Art imitates life: right now I'm watching "Empire Falls" on Netflix, having read the book some time ago. Whoever loaned me the book... thanks!

Day 100: Looking good, Blue!

And on the hundredth day of training, I ran the Bar Harbor Half Marathon.

Things worked out very well today. I woke up two and a half hours before race time, and although I battled a fierce tension headache last night and overnight, my sleep was interrupted only once, and I felt rested. Got myself put together and headed over to the Bar Harbor YMCA. Temperature: about 50, and cloudy. Perfect! I had on a long-sleeve blue shirt, and shorts, and a hat and gloves to keep me warm enough. I was skeptical about this configuration, because I'm often cold, but it was just fine. I actually kept the hat on for the entire race.

Race plan: keep up long-run pace for the first 10-11 miles, and then speed it up to my 5K pace. This was advised by Carson, who also predicted that my "5K pace" now, after months of training, would be far faster than my time in my last 5K race, which was back in March. Well, I've aimed for negative splits in all my races (ahem: having a faster second half than first), so that was fine by me.

The gun went off and we ran out of Bar Harbor, into Acadia National Park. Most of the run was on the gravel carriage roads within the park. I was terrified of getting pebbles into my shoes and having to stop and readjust (as happened with one mile to go on my Phoenix long run), but this did not happen. The first few miles, I deliberately held back, and I have done enough races now not to have been bothered by people passing me left and right. I'd see many of them again soon enough.

After about mile 4 or 5, I gradually sped up a bit, maybe 15-30 seconds per mile faster. This was not difficult, and I made use of the water and Gatorade stations, and I brought a few gels and two small water bottles with me on the fuel belt, as backup. I even remembered to look around at the scenery; there was a beautiful moment when the sun briefly lit up over Eagle Lake. Mostly, though, it was overcast -- perfect race weather. I was in good spirits.

I continued to speed up, and after mile 7, I remembered from the course description that it would be mostly downhill. By mile 9 I was moving much faster. I passed the mile 11 marker a little sooner than I had calculated, and the mile 12 marker way sooner. At race's end, I was at a full sprint, shooting past some bedraggled-looking people dragging themselves across the line. The woman who needed to rip off the bottom part of my number, to officially record my finish, nearly fell down trying to grab me as I hurtled past.

This apparently made for an impressive performance among the crowd at the end. As I left the race, walking back through the town to my hotel, a woman on a bike called out, "Looking good, Blue!" I realized she meant me, on account of my blue shirt. "You were passing everyone at the end there, coming into town! Way to go!" I couldn't help but smile.

Of course, the fast finish meant that in fact, I had left a lot on the course: I could have gone faster throughout. But the primary purpose of this race was not to kill myself but to prep for the full marathon, and to learn how to regulate myself over a longer distance. I have already run farther than 13.1 miles, but the race environment does make a difference. All in all, mission accomplished, and commemorated afterward -- following two bagels, half a banana, a quarter of an orange, water, Gatorade, and a hot shower -- by downing two eggs, corned-beef hash, a fresh blueberry muffin, more water, tea, and Barbara's Puffins. (That's a kind of cereal.)

I spent most of the afternoon with my feet up in the hotel room, relaxing, but soon I'll probably head out for a stroll, and possibly a sandwich. I expect to sleep well tonight!

(Oh, my race time -- 1:56:20. Plus or minus two seconds, pending the "official" results. Primitive technology, you know. No chips. Barely a clock.)

Day 99: Bah Hahbah

Sailed up to Maine yesterday, with a stop in Freeport for lunch and to look in the store windows. Even managed to negotiate a dirt-road detour forced by the Ellsworth police -- thanks, fellas!

The plan called for a five-mile run yesterday, but I was convinced to skip it, and to treat tomorrow's half-marathon as a dress rehearsal for the full marathon. After all, there is no running two days before the full marathon, and only a short run the day before. So I skipped yesterday's run -- the first time I've skipped a day with no intention of making up the miles.

This morning I was greeted by a brisk 50-degree Bar Harbor day. I set out for my three miles, easy, at 8:30 -- the starting time tomorrow. Then I came back to the hotel, showered, went to eat some blueberry pancakes, and typed these three paragraphs (it's almost 11:00 now). More to come.

... OK, now it's after 6:30. I learned very quickly that the pre-race pasta dinner is definitely not my scene. An interesting assortment of people, and it seems that some of the race sponsors were working the crowd, trying very hard to be friendly to everyone. Although I guess that's OK, I didn't really need to be there. Even the pasta wasn't my kind of pasta; it was lasagna (or 'lasagne,' if you prefer), very heavy on the ricotta, which I dislike. I've heard of carbo-loading, but not cheese-o-loading. Blech. I got a whole-wheat bagel, some organic fig bars, and dark-chocolate-covered cherries on the way back to the hotel, and I'll nosh and then go to sleep.

A couple of strange things today:

• The Queen Elizabeth 2 is in town, part of its last bit of cruising before it retires to become -- get this -- a floating conference center in Dubai. I didn't recognize it as such because yesterday, when I pulled into Bar Harbor (er, in my car), there was a giant cruise ship here, one of the mega-ships of the current generation. So today, when I saw the QE2, it looked so small I thought it must have been something else. But there was Cunard lettering on the side, and I put QE2 and QE2 together, and I figured it out. The town was full of elderly people, some with funny accents, and all the shops had "10% CRUISER DISCOUNT" signs in their windows, which gave an interesting feel to the sidewalk.

• Race registration was limited to 400. My number: 405.

Who would like to place a bet on when I'll fall asleep tonight? Man, I hope it's early. Tonight's goal: build up full strength. Reach peak at exactly 8:30 tomorrow morning... and maintain it for 13.1 miles.

Day 97: Six and six and $250

I woke up at about 4:00 this morning, and I knew I wasn't going to get right back to sleep, so I started putzing around on Wikipedia. Somehow I started reading about the longtime CEO of Continental Airlines, Robert Six. That helped return me to an unconscious state.

Alarm went off at 6:30, and I said, OK, time to get up. I blinked and sat up in bed, and it was now 7:45. Ah. I went to get the paper off the front steps, and I heard the street-cleaning announcement truck go by: no parking on the odd side today. How fortuitous that I overslept and got this reminder! By missing my alarm, I saved about $250 in ticketing, towing, and other silly miscellaneous fees.

At work I realized that Six's Continental had probably goofed when they put me on the US Airways flight Monday: even though I had used miles to get the ticket, I was probably going to earn miles for the Phoenix-Boston leg. Sure enough, I did, 2,300 of them, as well as an extra flight segment... inching, inching, inching toward elite status, for the third year in a row!

After work I dealt with my own six: miles. Excellent weather day, and I was strong, looping through North Cambridge and then the standard four-mile course on the bikeway. JP Licks in the evening, to celebrate. Tomorrow (I nearly typed 'tomowwow,' and of course thought of Peter Cook's minister from The Princess Bride): the great state of Maine.

Day 96: Day 94

Excel tells me that somewhere in the telling, I lost two days. These things happen.

Wrapping up threads: I made my triumphant return to Cambridge last night, even nabbing an aisle seat in the process (and the seat next to me was empty -- double score!). Unfortunately, it seems that because the weekend consisted largely of sitting in cramped seats, at stadiums and on airplanes, my IT bands stiffened up something fierce.

Fortunately, I loosened them up good today. After work I biked about three miles to meet up with Carson, who led me on a five-mile, death-defying run through the wilds of Cambridgeport and the Fenway, during which we braved Swiss-cheese-like pavements, screaming insane pickup-truck drivers, and the hanging-by-a-thread Boston University Bridge, a deathtrap to pedestrians, runners, cyclists, and drivers alike. So I counted today as both a running day and a biking day, even though only six miles were spent on the bike. You'd think that this would make me even sorer tomorrow, but in fact I expect to wake up somewhat more limber than I was today.

Bonus (actually a penalty): when Continental rebooked me on US Airways yesterday, I had to switch terminals, meaning that I had to exit the "secure" area at Continental and re-enter at US Airways. (By the way, the Continental terminal looks like the sort of landside facility you'd find at the airport of a country hostile to America.) Anyway, this meant that I had to dispose of the seltzer and water I'd bought. The seltzer was no problem: I drank it. But I couldn't also down 20 ounces of water without exploding. I tried to return it to the drugstore: no dice, for the same bogus reason I can never just get a plain ol' cup for water at a ballgame. ("Inventory.") I then tried to pawn it off on one of Sky Harbor's official greeters, an elderly man in a cheap vest who recoiled in horror when I proffered the bottle. "Just chuck it," he said, perhaps fearing some manner of imminent physical attack. "Isn't a shame to waste it?" I asked earnestly. "Everyone does it," he said, body twisting away from me. I abruptly disengaged and tossed the full water bottle into the trash can, muttering, "This is why the planet is dying."

Day 93: The return

So when I booked my flight to Phoenix, it was routed through Houston. Then, when I realized that Hurricane Ike would hit Houston, I changed my outbound flights to go through Atlanta instead. OK. The agent on the phone -- after I had had many contradictory conversations between Delta and Continental -- offered to change my return flights too, to go through Cincinnati instead of Cleveland. "Why bother?" I said.

Oops.

It seems that Cleveland, as one of Continental's hubs, is also messed up today, even though it's not as badly off as Houston. So my Phoenix-Cleveland flight was delayed, which meant I'd've missed my connection to Boston. Bad. But Continental rebooked me on a nonstop US Airways flight. Good. But it'll get me in two hours later. Bad. But at least I won't have to make a connection. Good. But I'll have to sit in a middle seat. Bad. But I was cheerfully given an $8 meal voucher. Good. But now I've been at the airport all day here in Phoenix. Not too bad -- with my broadband modem and BlackBerry, I've actually been pretty productive. And if all goes well, this flight -- "purchased" using frequent-flyer miles -- will actually count as a paid segment on US Airways, inching me ever closer to elite status (which I nearly achieved in 2006 and last year).

We'll see if I'm on time.

Meanwhile, greetings from the grandly named Sky Harbor International Airport, where I spent many a glorious hour as a youngster, playing the Discs of Tron video game they used to have in the arcade here. I'm sure they have neither Discs of Tron nor an arcade anymore -- that, in fact, is the biggest shame of the day.

Day 92: Three more miles and ten more innings

The ballgames today and yesterday here in Phoenix -- Diamondbacks vs. Reds -- have both been damp squibs. Both were one-run games won in the 10th by Cincinnati (3-2 yesterday and 2-1 today); both were long, drawn-out, and devoid of interest or excitement. But my brother and his fiance arrived this morning from L.A. and joined my dad and me for snazz-o-matic brunch at the top of the Hyatt, in the revolving Compass restaurant, which was excellent, and we went for a pretty good dinner after the game, too, and then they all boarded planes, and I went back to the SpringHill Suites to relax and prepare to fly back to Boston in the morning. I don't take red-eyes anymore. Too old for that.

It was 100 degrees today. And yesterday.

Three more miles this morning, west on Van Buren through 'downtown.' Not too stiff from the 18-miler (or 21-miler, whatever it was). Ran past what I think was a bread factory. Agreeable smells.

Today is three months since I began this blog, and three months and one day since the bike trip ended. Reminds me of the old saying: time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.

Day 91: Where am I?

Today: a new Longest Run Ever, and the completion of another mission.

I have been to Phoenix many times, but always in October, November, December, or January. September, apparently, still features 100-degree temperatures, but no matter. Anyway, my aunt and uncle live here, which is why I have been a frequent visitor, but because I spent most of my time with family, I never really had the chance to explore the city.

Today I had that chance, because with an 18-mile run on tap, even though I'm staying downtown, I was able to run all the way to the South Mountain Preserve, the largest municipal park in America. Only when I turned around at the halfway point to head back, and saw the skyscrapers of downtown in the far distance, did I start to appreciate that I had run so far, I had ditched office buildings for saguaros. (I did see huge, undulating green and yellow caterpillars the whole way, though.)

I should say that today was supposed to be 18 miles... but it may have been as long as 21 miles! Google Maps didn't identify a good turnaround point in the park, so I got a little disoriented when I got down there. I don't know enough about my long-run pace to tell how far I was going, and I lost some time during the run while I waited for traffic lights to turn green, so I might actually have gone 21 miles! I got a rock in my shoe about a mile from the end, and for the first time, I had to stop, to get it out, and that messed me up, but otherwise I was strong. One minute, planes were flying right over my head, headed into Sky Harbor International, and the next minute, I was in the middle of desert nowhere. 52 ounces of liquids, and three gels... I was sick of eating, and from 8:00 to 11:00, the temperature went up by at least 20 degrees... but I made it!

The other mission completed today was seeing the Arizona Diamondbacks take on the Cincinnati Reds at Chase Field. I have now seen all 30 major-league ballparks. (I've also seen three defunct parks: the Vet, formerly of Philly; RFK, in DC; and Le Stade Olympique in Montreal, where I had my worst baseball-going experience. This means that I've seen the Expos/Nationals franchise in two cities and three parks!)

(D-backs lost in 10 to the Reds, despite the fearsome Big Unit on the mound... a sloppy, sloppy game. Free Jessica Simpson concert afterward, but we bolted. Bleah.)

The time difference, and the long running, and all the other stuff going on -- I'm pretty exhausted now. We'll see if I can still walk tomorrow, especially since I'm sharing a hotel room with my dad, who flew to Phoenix this morning so we could go to the game together... he's a snorer. As I type this, he's watching Seinfeld, and Uncle Leo has just come on. "Hell-o!" Good night!

Shout-out to Amos for pushing me within gasping distance of my fundraising goal!

Day 89: Grab bag

Four miles in the morning, and enough time in the afternoon for 15 miles on the bike. (Crystal: actually, it was 15.1, so I'm integral on the mileage!)

Another beautiful late-summer day here in Boston. I was a bit bleary-eyed in the morning, because unfortunately, the Sox failed to pull it off against the Rays last night, and the game went beyond regulation. I left after the 11th, when it was still tied 1-1. Tampa eventually won in the 14th. Let's play one and a half!

Carson and Theresa returned safely from their globe-girdling adventure, and I've already seen a good number of their pictures and videos and heard tales of the Olympics in Beijing, rudimentary hospital facilities in Lhasa, and water-filled caves outside Muscat. It's always something.

To Phoenix tomorrow, via Atlanta, late enough in the afternoon for me to get some things done at the office, although I am now equipped with both a BlackBerry and a broadband USB cell modem, so I get the Internet from anywhere. Surely this is an argument for finding a reasonably-priced retreat somewhere far from everywhere and literally phoning it in; I may investigate further if ever there is the time.

"Rest" day tomorrow, if flying counts as resting... followed by EIGHTEEN miles on Saturday, which will be the Longest Run Ever. Hopefully I can find a more scenic running route than downtown Phoenix -- 18 miles should allow me to run pretty much all over the place. My Arizona uncle suggested running along the light-rail tracks, which have been completed -- rail service, it seems, does not start until December. 99 degrees on rails? We shall see.

Day 88: Dawn

Autumn chill was in the air at dawn as I ran my four miles today.

I was reminded of when my downstairs neighbor, Dawn, moved in. She explained that "Dawn" and "Don" have opposite pronounciations in Boston and New York: the thick New York accent of "Daaawwwnnn" is actually how you pronounce "Dooonnn" in Boston, and vice-versa. Hilarity.

Clear and sunny today, and should be clear (if not sunny) tonight -- ideal weather for the Red Sox, though still a bit short of first place, to whup the (ex-Devil) Rays, who for some reason so far unexplained by sabremetricians and/or baseball psychologists still lead the AL East.

Now, about to start my all-day meeting, as I longingly eye the other rays of September through filthy downtown-Boston windows. (Our host handed out Obama buttons to everyone before we began -- heh.)

Day 87: Flying

First of all, happy birthday to my dad, who gave me an inspiring weekend speech about how he quit running because of all the injuries. (Dad, I'm kidding -- but don't worry, I don't intend to progress straight to the injury stage.)

Second of all, I am supposed to fly from Boston to Phoenix on Friday, via Houston, and so I figured that since Hurricane Ike is headed that way, and I don't like Ike, I should try to change my itinerary to avoid Houston. Delta told me to talk to Continental. Continental told me to talk to Delta. I told Continental, Delta told me to talk to you. Continental said, they shouldn't have told you to talk to us; you should talk to them. I told them, well, you should talk to them. They said, OK, we can talk to them. I said, bingo, and I called Delta on my other phone while Continental waited on the first phone. I got through to Delta, and Delta now told me that they can change my flight, but that I'll have to go at 5:50 AM, and they don't care that Continental is waiving change fees due to the hurricane, and they'll charge me $100 for the privilege of waking up at 3 in the morning, flying through the redoubtable metropolis of Cincinnati, Ohio, and, doubtless, sitting in a middle seat between two fat people the entire way. The Continental supervisor, listening on the other phone, explained that they would have waived the fees if they could have changed the flights, which they couldn't, and she told me mildly that I should speak to a Delta supervisor, which I did. The supervisor sounded momentarily thoughtful, put me on hold (all the hold music I heard throughout this ordeal reminded me of Wayne's World 2, with Garth squirming in the dentist's chair as Kenny G merrily played his sax), and then returned to tell me -- to my utter shock! -- that Delta would be happy to put me on the 2:40 flight through Atlanta, and that since Continental was waiving change fees, so would they. Although I always go into these kinds of situations assuming that justice will prevail, I nearly fell out of my chair when I heard this.

Third of all, I think I ran today, in the morning, four miles, fast. They say that running is a great stress reliever, and I intend to test that hypothesis tomorrow morning.

Day 86: Bagels

It's amazing how quickly ravenous hordes can dispatch three dozen bagels.

Drove up to Cambridge from Long Island this morning, stopping at the Hicksville train station to pick up Rebecca. Before I get to the bagel story, let it be known that during our bathroom break, at a rest stop on I-84 in Connecticut, Rebecca attempted to negotiate the vending machine, depositing money for a small packet of Smartfood popcorn. (Remember when that stuff was popular?) The Smartfood packet fell from its rack but got wedged in the machine prior to arriving at the dispensing slot. Great. So Rebecca figured she'd put in some more money, get some Swedish Fish, and the Swedish Fish, on their way down to the dispensing slot, would knock the Smartfood packet free. OK. She put in the money... and of course the machine whirred and the Swedish Fish moved forward, toward the slot... but it didn't fall. Oops. Again. Some brisk smacking of the machine dislodged the Fish, but the falling Fish didn't dislodge the Smartfood, and we were back at square one. Dilemma. Needless to say, by this time a crowd of boisterous, well-meaning middle-aged women had gathered, and once the Fish failed, one of them elbowed their way forward, briskly deposited some money, and sent a king-size Snickers bar on a bombs-away mission -- the Snick snack had no trouble knocking down the Smartfood, solving everyone's problems. Rebecca then turned to me and said, "This kind of thing always happens to me."

Back to the bagels. On those rare occasions when I drive up to Cambridge straight from the bagel store on a weekday, I feel it necessary to allow my Volpe brethren and sistren to partake of Bagel Boss's finest. So I sent an e-mail with the subject line "Society of Toroidal Carbohydrate Consumption," and the Volpe vultures swarmed as soon as I arrived. More than one actually had the effrontery to ask about cream cheese. My fault: I've spoiled them in the past. But bringing in bagels is always fun, even on my purported day off. (No such thing anymore, with the BlackBerry.)

No running today, by the way. But every day is something. As Jimmy Breslin says, "There are eight million stories in New York... this was one of them!"

Day 85: Hometown

Twelve morning miles under the glorious early Long Island sunshine. Evidently a lot of bicyclists also thought it was a good day to hit the road, because I saw packs of 'em -- mini-pelotons. Some individuals, too. And even some other runners.

Most of the people I encountered nodded or said hi as we passed each other. Reminds me of my bike through Lincoln and wherever else with Jordan Karp, during which he nodded, waved, and hi'ed at everyone we saw. I thought that was nuts -- a very California thing -- but maybe it's just that in the suburbs, people are more relaxed, and are willing to exchange pleasantries even while on the move. Or, that they're so scared to encounter other people on the street that they feel it necessary to verify their good intentions. Hmm.

I've never seen my hometown quite as I did this morning: on foot. I ran down past my high school and then through "town" (where the railroad station is), basically in a big loop. It was a strange experience, for reasons a bit too vague to explain here, but it was pleasant enough, and I didn't encounter any difficulties during the run -- I even kept up a pretty brisk pace. Hard-hearted Hanna, the vamp of Savannah, GA, turned out to be a damp squib; apart from a few small downed branches and leafy debris in the gutters, you'd never know a Fearsome Tropical Storm had passed through the night before.

Giant lunch in Brooklyn after the run with my mom, grandma, aunt, and uncle, and Mario's Pizza for dinner. Can't go wrong there. And speaking of which (i.e., comestibles), a bonus for loyal Cambridge readers: I will in fact tank up at Bagel Boss tomorrow morning before setting off. You have been warned.

Day 84: The ol' switcheroo (again)

A girl -- OK, a tropical storm -- named Hanna changed my plans a little bit for this weekend.

Original plan: wake up, run 12, go to breakfast at Ben & Katie's, drive to New York, go to sleep, wake up, run 3.

New plan: wake up, drive to New York to beat the bad weather, run 3, go to sleep (hopefully without losing electricity), wake up, run 12.

I would have stuck with the original plan, but when I woke up this morning, it was pouring (although I later realized that it was an off-and-on rain that wouldn't have been a problem), and the forecast for the afternoon in New York was for tropical storm conditions, and I didn't like the thought of braving the Throgs Neck Bridge in 50-mile-an-hour gusts.

Since I've learned to be flexible and accommodating, making the change didn't faze me one bit. For good measure, I leadfooted it to Long Island, making the trip in under three and a half hours, which is superb time by any reasonable standard (and some unreasonable ones). After a speedy run (actually 3.3 miles -- finished well before the rain started), I showered and went to brunch with my parents and my brother and his fiance. We may cancel plans to go to dinner later because of the storm, but in any case, tomorrow the weather forecast is good, and I'll get in the dozen before heading to Brooklyn to see my grandmother and aunt and uncle. Then Monday: back to Boston... with bagels!

Day 83: Travelin' fool

It's been hard over the past few months to keep to my training regimen. It's been hard to do much of anything, actually: flying all over the place has played havoc with eating, sleeping, working, running, seeing friends, and so forth. I have worked to keep things under control, but it certainly has not been easy.

This morning I got in what should have been yesterday's five-miler. No sweat... actually, quite a lot of sweat. Have I mentioned that I bought a cheap clothes-drying rack so I have someplace to put my soaked clothes when I get back from my runs? Have I mentioned that my running shoes are starting to get a little gross? So much to keep track of.

Despite me physically being all over the place, my mental focus has actually been pretty good. I haven't had many moments when I've woken up and said to myself, "I do NOT want to run today." I have tried to go easy on myself while traveling -- for instance, indulging in soft-serve, which I happily did Wednesday night in Ocean City. This evening, after work, I thought it might be fun to hit the trail on the bike for a few miles, because I don't get to bike often, the weather was nice today, and it looks like Tropical Storm Hanna and additional traveling will keep me off the bike. But I decided that a little more sleep might be better... I've been a bit light on the sleep lately.

When I started this blog back in June, I made a long list of topics to cover, in case I couldn't come up with anything compelling on a given day. I forgot that a reliable fallback, which I have employed frequently, is to simply babble on about the nonsense of the day. Perhaps all the traveling actually has made me forgetful...

Day 82: First class

Back in Boston. Primo seating on one of today's flights (although on a regional jet... d'oh). Schedule didn't permit running today, but I'll run tomorrow morning instead.

Now... a speech by... McCain? (??) (!)

Day 81: Boardwalks & drawbridges

Back in Ocean City, Maryland, I was able to run a very pleasant five miles across the causeway and along the boardwalk, watching the shadows slowly lengthen as kites flapped in the sea breeze. Of course, as I was returning over the causeway, I was nearly dumbfounded to find the drawbridge open... fortunately, it closed shortly thereafter.

The last time I was here, just a few weeks ago, it was still summer (before Labor Day), so the boardwalk was absolutely packed: wall-to-wall human flesh. Today, practically empty by comparison, but there was still a healthy crowd.

That last trip included a jaunt down to the town of Chincoteague, in Virginia. On that occasion, too, I was stuck behind an open drawbridge. What are the odds?

(Speaking of which, on that trip, my traveling companion somehow managed first-class airplane accommodations, while I was stuck in coach... same thing happened again this morning! She shrugged sheepishly... but nevertheless luxuriated in the extra legroom and hiproom.)

Shout-outs to Jamie (since I saw a few surfers up near 21st Street) and Carson (I must have spotted a hundred funnel-cake vendors along the boardwalk!).

The Republican National Convention is on now, and Sarah Palin will be speaking soon. In-teresting...

Day 80: Milestones

Today was my 50th run since the bike trip ended, and my 150th since I got serious about this running thing last November.

This morning marked my return to full-power morning running. Digestive complaints appear to have abated. I missed the morning light and got a nice treat in these early, quiet hours, as Spy Pond glimmered under the rising sun.

Today's run was the first 5-mile "short" run. I remember when covering 5 miles on my feet was an athletic accomplishment too ludicrous to seriously contemplate. A bit later, I remember when 5 miles was a long run. After that, I remember completing my first 5-mile race, back in April, with Carson urging me on the whole way... and suddenly sprinting the last quarter-mile, surprising myself (and Carson!), using stuff in the tank I hadn't realized was still there.

Today marks two months until the marathon, and until my birthday. (I'll be sending out another fundraising e-mail to the will-contributes a bit later.)

Are there other milestones? Probably.

Julie asked me over the weekend whether I'm bored after all this time running on the bike path. My answer was no, because I'm always listening to new podcasts as I run along, and I find the familiarity of the terrain to be reassuring. It's much safer than running on the streets! Besides, there's always something new to see. Today, in an echo of one of the bike trip's Idaho days, I was approached by what might most properly be referred to as a "piece of equipment" -- an orange street-cleaning machine, or relative thereof, trundling down the trail behind me. Naturally, I outran it.

There is more to this day, but I feel like I've had a good day already.

Day 79: It takes all kinds

Early in the morning -- especially on a Labor Day, I guess -- one seems to have the Minuteman Bikeway to oneself. Tooling through Lexington at 15 mph, with the sun and the breeze and the trees and the wide, clear path... just lovely.

Of course, it couldn't last, and by the time I was heading back to Cambridge, the trail was starting to fill up with the typical weekend crowd. I saw several absolutely enormous people on bikes, and I couldn't decide whether to shriek in horror or applaud these apparent attempts at fitness. I settled for doing neither.

Not for the first time, I also encountered a fellow who contentedly ambled along the trail, enthusiastically greeting each passer-by. This guy seems, shall we say, touched. He reminds me of Bicycle Bob, a character from my home town. Last time I visited my parents, my mom and I drove past Bob, standing on the corner by the library. It was the first time I'd ever seen him without a bicycle.

"Is he just 'Bob,' now?" I asked.

My mother looked at me. "What?"

Ah well.

22.1 miles, and now it's 9:30 AM -- time for Breakfast No. 2 (an old trick from the bike trip).