Sedalia to New Franklin

Aaron, Mike, and I traveled by bike from Sedalia, Mo to New Franklin, Mo.  41 miles if you're counting.  Here's the stating point in Sedalia:

The tree lined sections are great, keeping the sun off of you.

That's me. Aaron pointed out that the bridge is 100 years old this year, having been built in 1910.

Deon's Bar and Grill.  We had lunch listening to old country and western.  This is Pilot Grove, Mo.

Not French Lick, Prairie Lick.

We crossed I70 near Boonville, Mo.

Crossing I70.

The depot in Boonville.

I'm starting to see a pattern with the cabooses at the Katy Trail trail heads.

I noticed the architecture. It appealed to me. The cell phone camera probably doesn't do it justice.

After a long day riding, you can lose your money here.

Veterans Memorial in Boonville.

Crossing the Missouri.

Arriving in New Franklin, not to be confused with Franklin, which is about a mile away.

Race Report

OK, I read a number of triathlon blogs, and everyone posts a race report after a big race.  Some are quite long, comprising several posts over a number of days, but after all, they just did an Ironman. Since I only ran a 5K, this race report will be quite short (depending on your level of interest in my life).

I drove over to Windsor, Missouri, for the 5K for Something or Other.  I'd registered weeks ago, but a few days before the race I learned there was a 5K in my town the same day.  Oh well, I'd paid my money, so it's off to Windsor.  I don't know, I think it's like, 20 miles away. I've actually ridden my bike there and back a couple of times, so it's not that far.

Here's Windsor:

I get there about an hour early, cause that's how I roll.  I checked in, got my obligatory tee shirt and proceeded to stand around.  I stood around so long that I saw a married couple from my church, they were going to run as well.  Other than that, I knew no one.  Had I ran in the race in my own town I'd have recognized a dozen people, and felt obliged to chat with them.

It was chilly, so I wore pants over my shorts, and I wore a jacket, figuring I'd strip them off before race time.  I didn't know the course, but I was under the impression it began and ended in the park where registration was.  At some point, everyone started walking, so I joined them, not wanting ot be left out.  I asked the fellow I was somewhat acquainted with because of our shared religion where we were going.  He said we had to take a bus to the starting point, which was over at the Katy Trail.

Here's the caboose at the starting line:

OK, cool.  I'll just leave my pants and jacket on the bus.  Pick them up later. We were trundled over to the starting line and because I'm in the very back seat of the bus, I'm the last to get off. I ask the bus driver, "Are you going back over to the park?" She answered in the negative, and then said something I'm still puzzled about. "I'm going back to the school. You guys will have to walk back."  Did she know nothing of her assignment that day, or was she only given the route, the rest kept top secret?  She reminded me of a special forces helo pilot.

At any rate, I can't leave my pants and jacket on the bus. Well crap.  I hate it when I plan the work but then can't work the plan.  I'd have to run with my pants on.  I tied my jacket around my waste.  Thankfully it was chilly that morning, so I never did get overheated, but there's another problem, I really have to pee, and I don't see a toilet close by.  Personally, I'm not opposed to public urination. I don't see what the big deal is really, but I figured even in Windsor it wouldn't be looked upon favorably with so many women folk around, some in their teens. I'd have to run with a full canteen.

We all got up around the starting line, and some lady explained the course. Go this way, turn right onto the pavement, arrive at the park.  I eyed the competition.  There were two or thee guys and a couple of ladies that looked like serious runners.  The rest may not have known what we were doing there, like the bus driver. I'm kidding, they knew. 

Read set go. Everyone took off like a bat out of hell.  I'm serious.  Everyone from the 12 year-olds to the 60 year-olds.  I thought I was running with Usain Bolt. A pack of Usain Bolts.  No matter, after the first half mile I'd passed just about all of them.  After one mile there were probably 6 or 7 people ahead of me, including one girl.  I finally passed the girl.  Now there were about 6 guys ahead. I couldn't tell exactly how many because some of them were way out front.  I ran down two of them, passing the second with about three quarter miles to go, but by that time the lead runner was probably finishing.

I crossed the finish line in about 22 or 23 minutes. I forgot to stop my clock when I crossed and I didn't stick around for the medal ceremony. 

The next day at church the guy I know handed me a medal. He said I got second in my age group. Wow! I can't tell you how proud I was to know that I went all the way to Windsor, Missouri and got second place for my age group. I'm serious, I can't tell you that.

OK, enough for now.

My Life in Tee Shirts

Picked up this up circa 1988, making it my oldest tee. It says Denali National Park Alaska.  I'm sure I got it somewhere near there. We didn't get to hike it or anything, but rather looked at it from afar in the safety of the visitors center.  I distinctly remember someone feeding a chipmunk.  That's adventure in the Alaskan wilderness! Also pictured is the back of the tee. I honestly don't believe it's tattered because of its age, but rather its quality. I can't wear it anymore, because I can't wash it.  But how can I toss it?

Colorado, circa 1992. I love to ski, but do it about as often as I wear this shirt, which is hardly ever.

Ok, probably my favorite shirt of all time.  Got this at Murphy's Mart in Logan, OH, in about 1994.

From 1995. NYC, some street vendor. I lived in KS at the time, so I had to have it.  Also, I have that .38 Smith and Wesson pictured on the front.

1995 was a big year for tees.  This one hails from Haifa, Israel.  They patrol the streets with these things. The Uzis, not the tee shirts.  If you ever make it to Israel, there are plenty of sites to see, the tomb of David, Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Via Dolorosa, but above all, don't miss the falafels.

I was in the Navy from '93-'97.  I served on board the USS Gunston Hall, the Marine 7th Comm Battalion, and finally the Seabees. I still have a number of these olive green shirts. Or are they brown? I can't tell.

This was a gift from my dear wife, 4-5 years ago. I never feel more like a nerd than when I wear this one. Though it depicts a great scene from Monty Python's Holy Grail, it's not my favorite scene.  My favorite scene is the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch.  If you see one of those tees, let me know.

Here's a couple of recent acquisitions.  They, too, reveal my nerdiness.  I don't read comic books or anything, I just like the imagery of Superman and Batman.  The Batman logo glows in the dark!

There you have it.  I'm so glad that I had time to write this very important and inspiring post. As an extra treat, here is the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch scene.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOrgLj9lOwk&feature=fvsr