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Showing posts from October, 2009

turn it on with johnsons

" When you're turning on the sun.... Turn it on with Johnson's" This was a lyric from a commercial about the benefits of using Johnson's baby oil as a tanning adjunct. My sister and I, while watching the NY Yankees tromp on the LA Angels, and drinking crabby with Siggie, in their cozy home in the UP, were discussing how we both got burned (literally) by believing this. She, while on the shores of Gitche Gumme, by the shining big sea waters ( From the land of sky blue waters...Hamms the beer refreshing - another jingle from a commercial of the 60's) or Lake Superior, as it is more commonly known, slathered her already freckled legs with baby oil and lay on the sand, sometime in the 60's, probably listening to Janis Joplin on her transistor. While she was listening and drinking beers, her legs fried to a frightening crimson, and then got swollen enough that she had to go to the doctor and was hospitalized for a few days. "Keep your pants on" t...

a message from beyond

The night before the St. George marathon, after eating a big glob of angel hair pasta and shrimp in buttery garlic sauce, we were riding back to my friends house. I had a missed phone call in the restaurant and checked my voice mail. Of course, with caller ID and all, I knew who the call was from and expected a message from that person. Instead, the message I got said (in a still recognizable slur made possible by progressing Lou Gehrig's disease): "Hi Donna. This is Bob. I won't get to visit with you tomorrow because we are going to Park City. Have a good run and I will catch up with you later". It was my friend and running buddy, Bob, who had died a year ago from Lou Gehrig's disease, which is supposed to be rare, but if it is, why do I know so many people who know someone who has it? Bob qualified for Boston in St. George about 3 years ago, just before he found out he would lose his voice and just about everything else, to LG, which in this case does not mean ...

performance anxiety

Two days before my 15th St. George marathon (and 32nd marathon), and I have the usual and some unusual, aches and pains. Like the weird butt pain that I believe is from the water bottle I usually carry - the bottle sits on a diagnonal on my back and bounces into my left butt cheek, leaving a weird sort of pain. It doesn't hurt when I run though. I think it is all in my head. Also what is in my head is how lucky I am to be able to do this. I don't get anxiety because I want to finish before anyone else in my dwindling age group, or even because I worry about not finishing. It's more because part of me can't believe that I can keep doing this. The premarathon days put me in a sort of reflective mood as I ponder who I should do my miles for and feel a little closer to the "other side" - meaning I feel my mortality and the fleeting time we all have and that I am taxing my body and how amazing it is that our bodies withstand such abuse (Yeah that was a long sentenc...