Believe In Fred

A few weeks ago, I started my quest for my catch phrase.

Thanks to those that shared their ideas. While I appreciate the "beached whale" and "stuffed sausage" references, I think I'll pass.

To prepare myself, I started digging through my iPod song list, favorite movies, books that I like, and past posts. I found a nugget of an idea: from the wrap up letter following Nation's Triathlon.

I don't know if you remember: after the race, my teammates and I went out for a few soda pops. As we walked in to the bar, the speakers are blaring Journey's "Don't Stop Believing."

"That's it!," I said to myself as I read the letter. It still is a poignant reminder of why we are doing this, isn't it?

"Sure," I say to myself, as the doubt creeps in. "But you can't fall back on an old message. This time is about more than that first experience. Isn't it?"

That's when my mind starts wandering. If you don't know me very well...my mind wanders...a lot. I like to think of it as creative moments. My family thinks I have adult onset Attention Deficit Disorder.

Suddenly, other songs fill my head. Songs from my youth. Songs like "Crazy Train" and "Enter Sandman" and "Psycho Killer." Can I find something there?

Like: "Help get me off this crazy train"? or use some play on words with "sand" and "sandman"? Maybe bring in the "beached whale" reference, stuck on the sand?

I gave up on "Psycho Killer."

But the sights and sounds of my youth seemed to fill my head. Is there something there?

Then I started thinking of Eric. When he was diagnosed, the second time. And his nickname, Fred, that he earned after he drove the family car into the garage. Not, in to the garage. Into the garage.

His younger brother, after hearing the news, said, "Eric, you can be a real Fred sometimes." I've shared notes from AJ from time to time. So I think you know his sense of humor.

The name didn't stick then. No, the name didn't stick for some time. It didn't take hold until after Eric's dad returned from a trip to New York.

You see, Eric's dad picked up a newspaper while he was in NYC. And the editorial in the paper that day was titled: I used to believe in Santa Claus, now I believe in FRED.

The name stuck. He's been Fred, at least to his close friends, ever since.

"Wait a minute!" My mind is going crazy!!! I've got it!

I've got my catch phrase, thanks to Fred!

Eric is an important motivating force in why I am doing this. He led the way for me to meet so many people on my last journey, and hear their stories. Those stories are what encouraged me to take on this journey. Eric, to this day, continues to be a positive force, as he continues his recovery. I believe that together we are all making a difference. A positive difference.

"So, what is the catch phrase," you ask?

BELIEVE IN FRED.

Milk, Cheese and Beer...er, what's that smell?

What a glorious weekend. You really couldn't ask for better weather. Well, okay, I guess you could ask for a better Sunday...but Friday and Saturday were unbeatable.

Suffice it to say, I got out for a long bike and run. As you know, I took a few weeks off (well, pretty much off) while visiting my parents in Florida.

So, on a whim, I took off a little early on Friday to get in a good brick. Note to self: don't go out on a whim to complete a brick.

"Why? What happened," you ask?

Well, ummm, *ahem*, errr. Let's just say it's not a good thing to go 3 hours without nutrition. Or, it turns out, a spare tire.

I decided to ride the Clinton River Trail to the Macomb Orchard Trail. That was my first mistake.

See, the Clinton River Trail is built out of limestone. I've ridden it before. But never this early in the season. And the limestone rutted over the winter. It was, to be polite, bumpy.

Thankfully the Macomb Orchard Trail is paved with asphalt and, for the most part, well maintained. I was so happy to get the first 4 miles behind me.

"But, wait a minute," I say to myself. "I'm a little thirsty." I reach down to grab a water bottle...no water bottle.

Ooops...I kinda forgot to bring a water bottle. I kinda overlooked that when heading out on a whim, didn't I? What else did I forget? Oh, I don't know, maybe some fuel? How about my saddle pack?

About a half an hour in to the ride, I spied a 7-11. Oh, thank heaven for 7-11. (That sounds familiar). They really don't have what I need, but I pick up a few things that should get me through. Should being the operative term (I'll come back to that).

The ride continues on past the 32 Mile bridge. It really is beautiful out there.

On the way back, with about 6 miles left on the Macomb Orchard Trail, I notice that my rear tire is feeling a little soft. I was a little worried that I might have damaged the tube while riding on the washboard on the Clinton. It looks like maybe my worries were well founded.

But, at least at this point, it feels like I should be able to get through these 6 miles, and the 4 miles on the Clinton.

I got through the 6 miles.

I got through 1 mile on the Clinton before the tire was toast. Did I mention that I forgot my saddle pack? You know, the pack that holds my spare tubes? Yeah. That.

I have a hand pump mounted to the side of my bike. So, at least I was able to limp through that last three miles, pretty much stopping each mile to fill the tire again. But it was a pain, literally and figuratively.

After wrestling through the last 3 miles, I loaded my bike into the car, grabbed my shoes, and started out for a run.

The first 4 miles went well. But then I started to cramp up. I first felt it in my right hamstring. Then my left. Then my calf muscles.

"What's going on," I asked myself. "I couldn't have lost this much ground in two weeks, could I?" I mean, two years ago, I remember being saddled with a tightened achilles tendon that stopped me from fully running for longer than 2 weeks. And I was able to return to the run with, really, no real loss in ground.

So, what could it..."Oh, snap!...wait a minute..." That's right! 7-11 only had Gatorade. And Gatorade doesn't cut it for what I'm doing today.

I squeeze out another 2 miles back to the car. I drive home. Walk in to the house. Grab a glass of milk. Some cheese. And a beer.

I know it sounds like an odd combination. And, yes it is an odd combination. But it's exactly what I need to get some quick calories and protein/carbs in to my cramping body.

I fall on the floor next to the baby. She sidles up next to me. Pulls off my glasses. Climbs on to my chest. And smiles.

It was a precious moment, until I realized that what I was smelling wasn't coming from me! And I just had milk, cheese and beer!

I'm Back, Now Get to Work!

Do you prefer:
Swaying palm fronds...soft white sand...sounds of waves lapping against the shore,
OR
Blowing winds...soft white snow...sounds of salt falling from the back of big orange trucks?

Yeah, me too. I'm sorry that I missed out on the snow fall...and suffered through the heat of Fort Myers Beach. Do you believe me?

Well you shouldn't.

It was a glorious two weeks away from the office. I don't recall ever taking a two week vacation. I will definitely remember this one.

My batteries are recharged. Which I'll definitely need in the coming weeks.

I also need to make up the ground I lost from my training routine. I swam only one time while I was away. Same thing with the bike. Thankfully, I was able to get a couple of runs in.

But that's not enough. Not for this length of a race.

I have 3 weeks to get to where I want to be. But I'll get there. Promise.

Sorry for the short note this week. But if I want to keep my promise, I got to get off-line and get some time in tonight!