I'm Runnin' (Runnin' on Empty)

I'm starting to think this whole "train for a marathon in the middle of summer" thing was one of the dimmest in my considerable collection of not-so-bright ideas. I hit the pavement at 6:30 this morning, and by the time I made it 3+ miles (my minimum weekday run) I was sweating like Rosie O'Donnell at Ryan's Steakhouse. Missouri in August (well, July) is a stomach-churning humidity, one that's only made worse by that lukewarm shower, that cup of coffee. No matter how much ice water or Gatorade you drink, you can't cool down.

(Yeah, I know. EVERYONE says their part of the country has the worst humidity. It's like claiming you have the worst drivers, or you're the meth capital of North America. Life sucks everywhere. Got it.)

Naturally this has me dreading this Saturday's long run. My schedule has me going 11 miles but I'm going to try and keep up with my goal of staying two miles ahead of my chart. That would put me at 13 miles--halfway to to the finish line. Actually, it's probably more like 2/3 of the way, since everyone I've talked to said it's not training that takes you the last four or five miles, but sheer will.

Or as my grandma Nonee would say, stupidity.

The one thing that is becoming painfully obvious is I'm going to have to curtail--if not eliminate--beer consumption between now and October 20. This has me bummed. I'm a man of few vices: a little baseball, a little man-crush on Albert Pujols, beer. Better than most clergy, I would suspect. But I've noticed as the rest of my body is getting harder (I daresay you could open a soda bottle on my calves right now), my slight paunch has not diminished, and the morning-after beer bloat is even more pronounced. It's a sacrifice that will be good for me, I'm sure, but it's a sacrifice nonetheless. The good people at Leinenkugel's are (along with my family) the only ones who have managed to keep me in some semblance of emotional balance since... oh, February.

Great local blog reading of late:

* Ryan Wiksell of The Core Blog has a pastor's take on The Simpsons Movie.
* My good buddy Nathan is having a squirrel problem.
* The lovely Michelle will be selling her talents on Walnut Street this Friday (don't be dirty).

And, in the comments, leave me your advice for good athlete's diet tips. I'm feeling overwhelmed and I need you all to tell me how poorly you eat, too.

Peace,

ML

Updates, Updates, Updates!

It's been a bit of a zany week, as anyone associated with the magazine or my family can attest. I know only one way of cutting through the shiznit. Bullet points!!!


(Okay, so I don't know how to make a damn bullet point in Blogger on a PC. I hate effin' PCs. Asterisks it is--might be more appropriate anyway.)


* Marathon Update: Much too late to be called coming to our senses, Nichole and I realized that $3,800 each is an absolutely absurd amount to try and raise to run a marathon (or half marathon, in her case), especially when you're splitting all your donors down the middle. Ergo, she has stopped the running program--with cheerleading practice starting this week she was doomed to fall behind anyway--and I have switched to the Kansas City marathon instead of San Francisco. It's not as sexy, no, but far less vertical. It also requires half as much money raised, and Nichole can tag along on our anniversary weekend without paying for a plane ticket. She regrets stopping, but our ability to raise that money--or even find the time to try--just doesn't exist, and we patently refuse to chunk the unraised balance on a credit card. Debt is debt, even if the money goes to a good cause. I'll update this site's sidebar item to reflect my change in destination. Thanks to all who have donated, and keep it coming if you can!


* Reading Update: So we finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows in two days--I read out loud for about 20 out of 34 hours over the weekend. I'll put up a more detailed review at some point, but overall I thought it was a fine way to close out the series, even if the ending was a little stunted and treacle. St. Louis Cardinals outfielder Chris Duncan liked it, too (photo from the Riverfront Times website).



* Movie Update: Saw The Simpsons Movie on Thursday night at the mini-premiere reserved for each of the nation's Springfields. It's everything a Simpsons movie should be, which is simply an hour and 20 minute episode, with a few goodies thrown in that you can't have on TV... even FOX... like Bart's private parts and Marge dropping the "GD" bomb. Good stuff. See it.


* Softball Update: Finally, the Whitaker Publishing Write Fielders won their first and only game of the softball season on Wednesday. Read about it here. Woo-hoo! I played shortstop for the winning team.


Have a great week. I'll try to blog about tomorrow's run this weekend.


Peace.



ML

Thoughts From The Road

Sorry I've been so absent over the last week. Deadline has a way of doing that to me... when I get home, or when I wake up, for that matter, the last thing I want to do is stare at a computer. But the new issue is out. Check it out. It's hardly our most consequential issue, but by all accounts a good read.

But I'm back now. Yesterday was my second straight week running 10 miles, and while it physically hurt a bit more than last week--I suspect the achy quads came from Wednesday's softball game--it didn't feel nearly as long, and the cooler weathe kept me from sweating quite as profusely. I would have been done in much the same time--probably quite a bit faster--if it weren't for taking that bathroom break at First and Calvery Presbyterian Church. Seriously. Sometimes there's just nothing for it but to take a pit stop, and at 8 a.m. there are very few businesses open. First time I've been in a church in months...

But yeah, 10 miles. My feet are sore today--I suspect I'll need new shoes soon, which I really can't afford. I had my first two online donors, you can see their names on the sidebar at right. If you want your name added to the list ( :) ) just click on the top link at right, or click here.

Yesterday, after our run, the Mrs. and I spent about nine hours reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. It's our tradition for me to read these books aloud while she cross-stitches or grades papers or something. We got almost exactly halfway--we plan on bulldozing our way through the rest today. My early impressions, without giving anything important away: the first half has been slow, if not exactly disappointing. Please refrain from leaving your predictions in the comments (not that I get much in the way of comments here, anyway ;) I don't want to hear them.

Finally, I know I promised impressions on the other book I was reading, The Road. I finished it early last week. It's a very quick read, and once you get used to Cormac McCarthy's stunted prose--no punctuation other than periods and the odd comma--an easy one. Ever since I read Stephen King's The Stand at the age of 15, I've sort of relished the post-apocalyptic drama. I mean, all that America out there and only a handful of us around to explore it? There's just something about it that fascinates me. Of course, King used a virus to destroy mankind, and viruses don't leave inches of gray ash on the ground and block out the sun. The Road focuses solely on the travels of an unnamed father and son some years after some presumably nuclear event. There's no real plot, just walking and hiding from the rest of civilzation, most of which has gone feral. You know the man is sick, and that he has a gut-wrenching choice to make: Let the boy go on or end it all, much as his wife did years earlier. I won't tell you how it ends, but I do suggest you read this book. So does Oprah, for what that's worth. The speed-readers among you will have it done in a day.

Too long already, yes? I've got a Potter of coffee to make. Get it? Witty I am. Wit-TY.

Finally, my buddy Nathan in N.C. has started his own blog, The Drinking Bird. Great read, especially for the ornotho-philes (can some Latin guru tell me if that's wrong?) among you. Nathan is funnier than I am and less prone to rambling. Good thing.


Peace.

M

Does this mean I'm on the Soul Patrol?

I don't usually blog from work—or about work—but this is too good to pass up:

Last week I had an interview with American Idol winner Taylor Hicks. Looks like he found me to be a funny guy... at least, he used one of my lines in later interview (unattributed, natch.)

Read about it at the GO Magazine blog.

Peace

M

Shameful Saturday

The merriment of a co-worker/friend's birthday and a sort of general malaise prevented me from going on my long Saturday run today with the rest of the Team In Training-ites. Probably not a good move, though not an unforgiveable sin. Therefore I'm doing a switcheroo on my weekend routine--today is coffee and Internet day (followed by two interviews downtown and a Bat Mitzvah. No joke! More on that later.) and tomorrow will be the nine-miler. I hope it's just as overcast tomorrow as it is today.

You'll notice a few new links on the right hand side of the page: There are a lot of good bloggers in Springfield. Click around, you'll enjoy the reads.

A few bullet points for a Saturday and I'll be on my merry way.

-- So about this Bat Mitzvah. The younger sister of one of my wife's bestest students is having her Jewish coming-of-age (I really don't know what else to call it) and the family invited us to attend. Nichole and I traveled with three members of this family during our trip to Italy and Greece in March... this bestest student took her mom and brother along, and bonding ensued. Just to prove I didn't make this up, I included a photo of Nichole and I at the Colosseum at the top of this post.
If you couple this evening's sure-to-be-interesting experience with the fact that I was best man in a traditional Jewish wedding a couple of years ago (my bestest buddy Nathan) and I, perhaps, have more first-hand ceremonial Jewish experience than any other journalist in Springfield. You know, unless any of them are actually Jewish.

-- Perhaps as karma for shirking my weekend run, I woke up this morning to find out the TV isn't working (it's obviously not the cable, because I'm working on our broadband right now.) If it's the picture tube on our barely one-year-old plasma, I'm going to flip out. How am I supposed to follow Big Brother 8?

-- I ate at Springfield's newest, swankiest sushi joint last night. It's called Kai, and it's very Asian-hipster... in all the best ways. I really haven't tasted sushi rolls like that, like, ever; from the noises my fellow diners were making, the seafood entrees were pretty tasty as well. There were a few service hiccups, mostly with the hostesses, but it's too early to knock that stuff anyway. Check it out if you haven't already.

-- I'm reading Cormac McCarthy's post-apocalyptic novel The Road right now. I'll give fuller impressions when I'm finished, but I think this is the book that might, finally, graduate me from my "Matt is obsessed with post-apocalyptic novels" phase (No, I haven't read the Left Behind series. No plans to), not because it's bad but because I'm pretty sure there's nothing left to say. You should read it. Oprah says so.

Gosh, I'm self-indulgent this morning.

Peace.

M

In America, he'd be directing FEMA

Nice shout out from Ron Davis at Chatter yesterday. Ron's one of Springfield's most relentless and respected bloggers (at least I think that's what the Blogaroni Award means.) He's also one of our city's bigger media critics, so his words about GO are appreciated.

But with that recognition comes added pressure to keep this blog updated and relevant, so here goes.

I've decided to put the running stuff LAST in each of my posts, as it will likely be of interest to the fewest people. I found the link to my Team In Training donation website. Click here to send me some much-needed moolah. I'm going to put a list of donors in a sidebar... as soon as I have some donors. Hugs and kisses (if you're hot and my wife isn't looking) in advance.

I'm not a news-a-phile. I mean, I keep track of current events but rarely do I obsess over foreign happenings or what's going on in the Bush White House. But yesterday, one story made my jaw drop: The execution of former Chinese State Food and Drug Administration head Zheng Xiaoyu.

From the New York Times.

Zheng Xiaoyu, former head of the State Food and Drug Administration (SFDA), dominated television and print news a day after he was executed for taking some 6.5 million yuan ($850,000) in bribes to let medicine companies slip past his regulatory net.

The People's Daily, voice of the ruling Communist Party, said the punishment was intended to deter other wayward officials.

"Corrupt elements will be thoroughly investigated no matter who they are, how high their post, or how deep they hide, and there can be no appeasement or softness," the newspaper said.

Basically the guy took kickbacks in exchange for approval of substandard products, drugs, etc. For this he was executed. I'm not saying the execution was right or wrong. Eastern cultures have a complicated sense of shame and honor that I am not qualified to judge. Here was the kicker:

But even as the media cast Zheng's punishment as a sign of the leadership's commitment to curing graft, reports described a system of kickbacks and favors that went back a decade without public exposure.

If China's ambition is to be the next U.S., it's well on their way. Granted, approving potentially deadly pharmeceuticals is more blatant an offense than, say, taking soft money for your war chest. But is it THAT far from leaking the name of a CIA agent? Is it THAT far from being painfully, painfully incompetent when thousands of people are stranded in a football dome? Is it THAT far away from sending soldiers off to die on flimsy evidence? I'm not sure it is. Don't read this as a call for Scooter Libby to get the chair... I wouldn't want that to happen. But the man's sentence was commuted.

My incredulity sparked a brief but interesting e-mail flurry with my boss, during which I asked the question (or something to this effect): Can a country with such a deep-seeded sense of honor and shame really compete as a global superpower? To which Greg replied "Bring back Eisenhower!" I'm no historian, but it really does seem like our collective national shame went out the window when Marilyn Monroe did her little dance for JFK. It started with a feather boa; world domination ensued.

Enough on China, and I promise I won't get too heavy here too often. How 'bout that All-Star game, huh? I sat there for four hours waiting for Albert Pujols to hit--figuring he was being saved for a clutch situation at the end of the game, and then watched as a g-d Philadelphia Phillie few out with the bases loaded to end the game. Pujols had a right to be mad at his manager, Tony LaRussa, for not playing him, though the St. Louis paper's story gave his comments a bit more context than the national jokers, and bothered to mention that Pujols was in a fairly good humor during his interview. Still, no excuse. My favorite Cardinals blog, vivaelbirdos.com, got pretty animated today. I think, whether or not the Cardinals turn it around this year, it was the end of Tony LaRussa, or the beginning of the end, anyway.

You do not mess with El Hombre.

Tuesday's run was ho-hum. I tried to mix things up a little bit and run through a nearby neighborhood rather than going straight to the Greenways. It was sort of a mistake. People like to park their cars across sidewalks and trash cans smell icky. I ran about 3/4 of a mile on Golden Avenue, not remembering that there is no sidewalk on Golden just north of Battlefield. In all I went about four miles, with the usual big hill at the finish. Saturday's a longer nine-miler. We'll see how that goes, as I plan on mixing in several hills. My abs say thank'ya!

Peace.

M

Easy Like...

Ah. Sunday mornings.

It's a comfortable routine, and after the early morning runs on Saturday, a blessed one. I wake up between 9 and 10, make some coffee. Goof around on the Internets for a couple of hours and then, maybe, take a shower and start my day. I'm still 20 minutes or so from that shower, which today, I think, will be followed by taking my dad to a movie, something I don't do nearly enough. Many Sundays include a few hours at the office, but with no deadline this week I think I'll manage to avoid that.

More about this marathon. I should add that my wife, Nichole, is training with me. She's preparing to run a half marathon the same day as my full. The catch: It's in San Francisco on Oct. 21. It's the same weekend as our fifth wedding anniversary. No, we're not into S&M. Earlier this year I joined the board of the Springfield Lukemia & Lymphoma Society, and felt compelled to participate in their Team in Training program. It's on my "life list" to run a marathon, and I figured I'm not getting any younger, right?

The San Fran race is the Nike Women's Marathon. Though men are allowed to compete (obviously), race veterans tell me men are often booed. Militant lesbians, you know? I plan on fashioning some sort of shirt or loose cape that says "I'm running with my wife." Imagine finishing 26.2 miles and getting effing booed! Good thing I have sizeable sense of irony.

The big catch to this marathon business is raising enough money to go. That means $3,800 each for me and Nichole. Yow. That's a lot of bake sales. Of course, if we do it, it means an all-expenses paid trip to the Bay Area for our anniversary--the actual day is Oct. 19, so all the romance can get out of the way prior to the dry-heaving. If you'd like to donate to our cause (I'll give you a big shout out, plus it's tax deductible) you can e-mail me at matthew.lemmon@gmail.com and I'll tell you how. When I get a link to the donate-online thingy, I'll put a permanent link at the bottom of the page.

Well, it's noon. Time to clean up and take the old man to see Live Free or Die Hard.

Peace.

M

One foot goes in front of the other, right?

Like so many of us in local media, I have decided to start my own blog. There are two reasons why:

1. I am training to run a marathon. Today was our weekly Saturday-morning "long run." Eight miles, to be exact. It fuc*ing sucked, my first day where I finished and said "Why in God's name am I doing this." I'm sure there will be more. A purpose of this blog is to help me through it.

2. Cleverly, however, I named it such that on days when I don't have a running update, I can sound of on this or that. There will be plenty of days like that. As journalists we so often write for other people that we need a place to write for ourselves. That may be a bit self-indulgent, but do blogs have any purpose larger than immediate gratification?

I suppose it's time for the "disclaimer." I am the editor of a magazine here in Springfield. Many of you will know it, some may not. This blog has nothing to do with that magazine. I will refrain from complaining about work if you refrain from confusing this blog and the opinions contained herein with the opinions or purposes of that magazine. I may link occasionally, if there's something worth sharing, but that's about it. For a proper example of a "this has nothing to do with my job" statement, I refer you to the homepage of my boss, mentor and fellow blogger, Gregory Holman (gregoryholman.blogspot.com.)

More later...

M