Cruel Cruel Golf

Golf is a wonderful, fun and cruel game all of which can be experienced in the same round.

Today I played in a charity event for the benefit of Saint Jude’s Hospital. A scramble or captains choice event (as some call it) I would be paired blindly with my fellow playing partners.

Imagine my surprise when our group is a threesome and my playing partners are a guy who hasn’t played in a year and a gal who is joining us after a thirteen year layoff.

Often in these events a threesome may have a distinct advantage, if the players actually are familiar with the game. This comes from the second shot a player can hit to make up for the “missing man”. For someone hitting the ball well …………….. Let’s just say “Green Light Special”. There would be something else special for my appearance today. For the first time ever, I got to play from the senior tees.

Our first hole was a par three, I hit second, sending the ball ten feet from the stick. Our lady partner would get “Two Whacks”, swing one a complete whiff, obviously to the trained eye a mere practice swing. Ooops, strike two but finally metal made contact with plastic and the ball politely dribbled to the front of the tee. I took the two putts, each hitting the hole and spinning out. Predictions began to echo through my head, could we shoot par?

There was a calm feeling as I stood on the next tee. From the senior tees these holes look really short ……….. Swing easy.  Three hundred yards later a twenty yard chip shot was all which was left. Birdie!

The Eagle on the next hole heightened my senses, perhaps this might go better than I had expected and indeed it did.

We hit all eighteen greens in regulation and had I been able to putt we might have won the event. We were a highly respectable ten under par with yours truly only making two putts. I did not putt poorly, indeed I burned edges and lipped out all day long.

Once again the putter served to beat on me, to tease me with the “almost, would of, could of, should of “.  Until, yes …….. Until the long putt competition.

A fifty foot challenge with ten feet of left to right break.

We passed the putting green in the middle of our round; five bucks rewarded three whacks at it. What the hell I thought, I’ll try because we sure could use that fifty inch LCD TV, the prize for closest or in.

Perhaps the touch of an angel smoothed the stroke, rolling the ball in almost perfect harmony with the world. With twelve feet to go the force of gravity broke the ball hard to the left, with two feet left there was a chance. Oh, so close as the ball slid past the hole on its back side, stopping a mere four inches from the intended destination. Now for a surprise, I thought the attendant would send my ball back but he announced, “You have to leave that ball there”.

With this “Local” rule it was more like Bocce Ball than golf. If I knocked my first putt away with either of my remaining efforts, well, tough luck. As you might imagine neither of the other putts were as close.

Tournament over one solitary golfer stands on the putting green. There is no doubt he is the last as they are close to awarding prizes. I had just sat down with a well-earned cold beer and some veggie snacks.  

Whack, a screamer of a putt ten feet wide of the hole and twenty feet past. I breathe a little easier seeing who will be the last player to try to best me. The second stroke resembles the first but perhaps has been hit even firmer as it screams down the green it all good chance to move thirty feet past the hole.

DON”T COUNT YOUR CHICKENS UNTIL THEIR HATCHED. How many times have I head that?

This screaming putt hits the flagstick, jumps straight up in the air a good two feet only to land right back in the hole. OH MY GOD!

If there is insult to injury, the winner takes his third and final putt placing it no closer than twenty feet from the cup.

I LOVE GOLF, I HATE GOLF, THAT TV WOULD HAVE LOOKED REAL NICE IN THE LIVING ROOM. IT’S GOLF, NOTHING ELSE NEEDS TO BE SAID..... Mike

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Reincarnation

I would imagine that it is quite normal for anyone who has had a cancer diagnosis to consider the possibility that cancer would win. This could trigger, as it did with me, a look at what might or might not be waiting for us after death.

Today, two and a half years ago, after I received news I had cancer, I have it figured out ………. I’m coming back as a cow.

Sunday started this line of thought …. I won my age group at the Susie’s Cause 5K. (My friend Kristin won first woman) While winning my age group sounds great, keep in mind that the next sixty plus year old finished almost twenty minutes behind me. Now in my defense I was twelfth overall and just a few seconds behind the guy who won the fifty year old division. (OK a small pat on my shoulder)

Twenty minutes after a good 5K finish I was sprinting to a Port-O-Potty, an hour and a half later, my foot pressed hard on the gas pedal of “Big Red”, speeding the ride home.  Ten seconds in the driveway was almost too long, but I made it to the office bathroom. The extra fifty yards to dash to the house might have been out of reach.

So, after a week of intense “activity”, with plenty of time to think (I have adapted the Thinkers Pose) I may have come to the conclusion that the Hindu’s belief in reincarnation may be correct. In this light, I have to assume that I am merely being conditioned for my next assignment ………. As a cow.

For anyone who has been around said animal no explanation required. For any who may not understand ….. For god sake …..  Get out more.

If we can’t laugh at ourselves then we are really in trouble, oops here we go again, have to dash off ….. Mike

 

Epson Salt

The instructions on the Epson Salt bag advised two to four teaspoons dissolved in eight ounces of water. With the exception of prepping for a “Rooter Router Job” (Colonoscopy) I have had no need and hence have no experience with laxatives. I imagine for thirty some odd years my love of beer had been enough to place me in a “Relaxed” state.

When I started running Ultra Marathons I had little idea that my GI track would be a limiting factor. Now, at sixty, with the effects of radiation, chemotherapy and surgery I find myself in need of experimentation to be able to participate in that which I love.

“How are you doing?” the doc says. “I’m making progress, but I’m really having a real issue when my runs get beyond ten or twelve miles” ……. A pause follows .........I’m sure the good doc is thinking “Well just don’t run more than ten miles”

Sorry, not the answer I want to hear…..… I’m not upset, I realize that I must appear to be some sort of freak and I need to figure this out for myself. It's not all that bad, I don’t mind “Mooning” the wildlife of Gambrill State Park on training runs but human animals along a race course may not be forgiving or appreciative of the struggle.

So here is the thought process ……. Little or nothing in the pipeline, little or nothing screaming to see the light of day?

Experimentation!

It’s 9:45 A.M. Thursday morning September the 19th, I have no appointments but I may want to go on a run with my buddies at 5:00 P.M. Two teaspoons dissolved in eight ounces of water, the low dose for an adult.

An hour later, rumblings, grumblings, nothing urgent so an easy walk to the comfort station started the process. The second hour inspired me to pick up the pace when nature called and in the third hour I decide to work downstairs to reduce the distance between me and the bathroom. I’m glad no one was around to hear the displeasure I uttered loudly with each visit. I am sooooo glad that I started with the minimum dose, proof positive that more is not always better.

At four o’clock, convinced there could not be anything left inside me I met my friends for a five mile trail run. No problem with the run but with a mile to go I ran out of gas (no pun intended). I think I was a bit dehydrated.

It’s now Saturday afternoon, my GI track isn’t 100% settled, I race tomorrow, Susie’s Cause 5K in Towson Maryland in the morning followed by five mile laps at Rick O’Donnell’s Memorial Run. Tomorrow will also be exactly two months before the JFK 50 miler.

 One side note, on one of my solitary runs this week I approached a large bolder in the trail. Without thinking I jumped up on it, went into “Four Wheel Drive” for a few feet and then jumped down the other side with a couple of bounds. As I mentioned there was “No Thought” in this maneuver.

IT WAS SIMPLY FUN

There is always hope ……………………….. Mike

A Good Morning Run

The past two days have been picture perfect, low humidity, deep blue skies with whiffs of white clouds rolling by. With temperatures peaking in the sixties it's my perfect idea for great running.

Today as I laced up my shoes my head could not stop thinking that this would be make it or break it as far as JFK was concerned. The plan was for sixteen miles, a run we call “The Cliffs” as our turnaround point is a cliff overlooking the valley between Frederick and Thurmont MD. In addition to providing a good view the large rocks might also reward the runner with a glimpse of a morning Rattlesnake warming itself in the sun. Today there would be no snakes, perhaps we were too early and it was still a bit chilly.

Saturday evening I had the best sleep I've had in weeks. After retiring at nine thirty I awoke an hour later to aching hands and feet; determined not to take a pain pill I rolled over thinking it would be a long night. I'm not sure when sleep came but when I woke I was shocked to see five thirty on the clock.

The run started well enough but after four miles the GI track started acting up, a half mile later I had to stop. Two miles later I had to stop again followed by another four miles later. Even though each one of these stops is an “energy sucker” I felt reasonably well. My Achilles, which I was most concerned about remained calm over the difficult terrain.

Fourteen miles into the run my body started to “tell me” it's been a while since I covered this distance. I was tired but not exhausted, glad when it was over, uncomfortable “downstairs” yet convinced that I can keep training for JFK.

It seems strange to me that I should have more GI issues then I did last year but that's the way it goes. I just need to figure it out.

Thanks for a Great Run Larry !

Mike

Rollback

It was one hell of a week with some highs and lows that I will not soon forget.

Throughout my recovery I have come to know the effect stress has on my body, and while it can be quite unpleasant it pales in comparison to the emotion of anger. 
 

While I don't care to elaborate on what angered me I managed to work myself up to a point where I was physically sick for a day and a half. Only when I could let it go could I began to recover. It was a powerful lesson, one I hope to never repeat again.

Yesterday I joined three friends for a round of golf for a local charity. The scramble format is often fun, especially for someone who no longer plays a lot of golf. Thirty years ago I played an extensive amount of golf and for five hours, somehow, I managed to role back time, playing to a level that I have not held for an entire round in years.

My playing partners commented that it looked as though I wasn't even swinging. Somehow, perhaps because I was tired, the swing was smooth and I stuck the ball dead solid almost every time. Drives were long and straight, more then a handful of iron shots settled a few feet from the pin. Putting, the enemy of my golfing career was good as well. During the round I made several birdies on my own ball.To say it was a good day would be quite the understatement.

This morning I ran five miles on the trails, tomorrow I'll be joining my running buddy Larry for hopefully a sixteen mile relaxed run which may just determine if the JFK Fifty Miler in November is still an option.

Surprise

Surprise, I spoke about that in my last post; how it may manifest itself in a positive or negative manor.

Wednesday evening my wife received a call telling us my father was in the Hospital having emergency surgery. Packing a bag I jumped into the car heading for Winchester. At about the same time my sister Kathy and Brother Tim jumped into their cars as well. As I'm the closest I made it to the hospital first; in the Surgical waiting room sat Father Leonard from Dad's church. Though I no longer attend church his presence brought a degree of comfort as we waited for news from the Surgeon.

At around ten thirty the surgeon spoke with us, it was the very best possible news we could have gotten. The blood clots which could have resulted in amputation of both legs were removed and Dad was doing well. We certainly weren’t out of the woods but it could not have gone better. Soon after Dr. Salem left Tim arrived to hear the news. We headed up to dads room and were there before he was wheeled in. He looked good for what he had been through.

Perhaps as we were receiving good news another family in another hospital received the worst, one of my friends died suddenly and unexpectedly.

Now it's Monday; Kathy stayed until the weekend, Tim took over and now it's my shift. It appears that he may be released today, unfortunately home bound instead of to a rehab facility as we (his children) had hoped for. I will move his “stuff” to the first floor in an effort to keep him there as much as possible but for anyone knowing my father there will be no guarantee. Dad has great neighbors and friends who will help but they simply cannot provide the 24/7 care that I think Dad needs for a week or so; I can't either. I can only hope his stubbornness will not take him down a bad path.

As for me, I'm tired. Anything out of my routine causes a surprising degree of physical distress that I feel intently in my hands, feet and guts. I have not slept much in the past week and the couch in the Hospital room just didn't work as well as my own bed.

Saturday morning I did get a twelve mile C&O Canal run in with my friend Craig. Six miles out, six back with an “Extra Bonus Surprise ” on the six back, with those miles requiring extreme “Butt Clenching”. (I made it) Afternoon training involved sprints to the bathroom, by evening, thankfully, I felt well enough to take the family to the Buffet.

Surprises , I don't really need too many more right now but if they come …................ I'll try to remember to keep a positive attitude.

Mike

Labor Day 2013

Labor day weekends have always been something I look forwards to; the demise of the hot humid days of summer morphing into the kinder gentler days of fall.

This one was a mixed bag.

The Thorpewood Race went well, much better then I could have imagined. On Saturday, the day before, I spent five or six hours marking the course with Mark Lawrence. Later, that afternoon I had a GI attack; bedtime that evening started at nine PM, by 1:30 A.M., not able to sleep, I caved in and took a pain pill.

I slept until six thirty, for me an eternity, when I awoke I felt normal. NORMAL,........ NORMAL …. a gift; nothing hurt, nothing numb no reason not to run except I just wanted to stay put and enjoy what I was experiencing. I laid in bed until 7:15; the last minute I figured I could linger and still make it on time.

I ran a good, a smart race finishing second in my age group and twentieth overall. Not bad for a sixty year old guy who has not been training.

Later that evening I got a call from my father who needed me to take him to the ER. 

Thankfully Dad ended up being all right and as for me, perhaps I found satisfaction in knowing how wrong I can be.  Just a few days prior I was in a dark place, a place I must admit I am fighting again, yet ….... the lesson I received …... things can be a lot worse and yes, we can always be surprised.

Come on Fall …......... Mike