Real Men Show Leg

I almost cried at personal training today. I didn’t happen to glance out the window and watch a kitten get hit by a car either. (okay, hang on a second, that thought made me tear-up a little too… yeesh, I’m a mess!) My old, hard-core trainer who threatened to throw me out of a second story window is still safely out of state. My new trainer is super encouraging, so that wasn’t it either.

I signed up for twelve personal training sessions and a cardio/core-strength boot camp class at our local YMCA. I’ve been trying to tell people for some time that I’m not really all that “fit.” People always give me a bit of an askance look when I say this. If they had seen me at the gym for boot camp or personal training today I think they would understand what I mean.

Yes, I run far. I’m moderately fast for a very long time. BUT, I have a weakness I’ve been hiding for some time. I woke up one morning to find that someone had surgically removed my abdominal muscles to sell them on the black-market. I’m not sure why—I doubt they got much of anything for them. click here to read more

I’m moving back to Minnesota. I really hope my wife and kids come with me. I kinda like them. Plus we are having a baby in January and I really want it to know its father. BUT…

When a man falls in love with a trail, all other loves become secondary.

It’s a deep and forgotten love—this love of the woods and trails. This post may get a bit mushy; it may in fact break out into sonnets. No limericks though, I promise (or apologize, depending upon your personality).

I say this now before I’ve written the rest of this post: This will be one of the best pieces I’ve written because it comes from my deep heart. Want to be inspired? Stick around. click to read more

Sorry about that. That’s the release of all the excitement I’m feeling about my upcoming race. I have purposely avoided writing about it overmuch, but now I can’t take it any more. In 9 days I’m going to shatter my old distance record and I can’t hold anything else in my brain long enough to write about it so this is what you’ll get. I’ll try not to use too many emoticons. LOL!! Click to read more!!!

Do you love getting a good massage? When was the last time you had one? What if I told you that for the around $20 you can have a deep tissue massage everyday for a long, long time? Yes, friends it’s true… no gimmick. Don’t believe me? Click to Find Out How

She’s gone! The night tremors have ceased. My left hand has stopped twitching violently at random. I don’t even wet the bed any more. Oh wait, I haven’t wet the bed since I was 20. Bed-wetting aside, my trainer is gone!

Gone, but not forgotten. If you missed the series that leads up to this post, follow these links: Session 1, Session 3, Session 4. You’ll have a much better understanding of the relief I feel that there won’t be a Session 5 with that trainer. This post is still worth a read. No, I didn’t puke, pass-out, cry, get called names, punch anybody in the face, BUT I learned a lot and I want to pass that on to you. click to continue

Trempealeau County, Wisconsin, USA. Deep dairyland. With its lush, rolling hills through field and forest, it is a running paradise. It is also the home[stead] of my wife’s family. Along my route this weekend I passed Thoma Rd (dad-in-law) and Franson Rd (mom-in-law). By the way my wife points at parcels of land that her family farmed, you’d be hard pressed to find soil that they haven’t tilled.

We visited last weekend to wrap up our week of camping. We stayed at “Grandma Green’s” (her real name of Irene mispronounced somewhere along the line by a grandchild) in Whitehall, a town of 1,500 people. The Kwik Trip cafe is the life of downtown. The food is good. The people are friendly. It’s storybook heartland, USA.

Of course I had to run it. Then I had to write it. Then you had to read it. You won’t want to miss the survival tips I’ve assembled near the end of the post. The life you save may just be your own… click to save your life

At one o’clock in the morning last night I was still screeching out the high notes of Katy Perry’s “Firework” when we pulled in the driveway. I must once again apologize to my wife for that. At least we didn’t go in the ditch. My wife might have been close to jumping for it though by the end of the 1.5 hour drive back from the wedding we photographed. In the conversation that preceded karaoke magic one realization stood out: “I have to run today.”

By “today” I meant 6am. 5 hours away. click to read more

I think in my last post I talked about talking to myself, singing, and dancing on my runs and how I think that’s a good thing. Well, as of last Saturday a line has been crossed. I don’t feel okay about the information you’re about to read… click to read more

I’ll miss this series. It’s been fun to write about. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading the continuing adventure. There’s one more to go! I fear a grand finale is in the works. In the last post I said my trainer might be moving to Florida. Well, no such luck. Game back on. click to read more

On Sunday I woke up to find that someone had broken into my room the night before with a hammer and nailed a note into each quadricep muscle. The first one read, “‘I hate you.’ Sincerely, Your Body.” The other note read, “‘Thanks for the play-date!!’ Love, Seven Hills Road.” This is the worst my muscles have felt since my first half-marathon two years ago. If you plan on running a race with any kind of hills in the near future you need to learn from my mistake. Really, I’m finding that this is what this blog is about; I screw up and you get to laugh at me and learn from it. I’m strangely okay with this. I’m a team player. click to read more