Marathons and Musings

Everyone, hello.

Quite a lot has been happening recently, as I'm sure it is with you. Summer is upon us.

Never have I lived in a place that so actively follows the timing of the sun and rejoices in it. Everyone is out of their winter dens and experiencing as much of the light as possible. Many people know the time when the sun rises and sets, but it's all pointless because it's light out all "night" long. There is no night here. The day has conquered it. It's been 50s or 60s for far except for one week of low 70s. The youth complain on a sunny day that it is too hot. One came inside the CSC because it was too hot outside.

"It's 60 degrees out. It's not too hot. 90 is hot. Get outside. Get some sun." The staff retorted.

I maximize my chances to bronze as much as possible. On the weekend I read the Economist outside in my shorts and I run home a decent amount so I drink it in. People in Anchorage are magically pale. I've also committed to wearing shorts to work everyday, along with another co-worker. It's summer, we argue, and so, we shall wear shorts! Viva la shorts!

In other news, I ran a marathon the other day, aka last Saturday. I ran it in 3'40". That turns out to be 8 min and 40 sec miles. I ran most of the race at a pace of 8 min 20 secs but my last 6 miles were less than stellar... To give you a hint as to their weak-sauce nature I shall tell you a tale.

At mile 10 or so, I caught up to an older man wearing burnt orange. A TEXAS FAN. His shirt said Runtex on it and I thought nothing of passing him because people were always shifting in positions as the race went on. Many people who passed me I eventually passed because they couldn't sustain their pace. Well, let me tell you a lesson I've learned in the past but had forgotten. Old Man Strength is not to be underestimated.

For all those who don't know, Old Man Strength is the term used to describe men over 35 who have increased muscle mass even though they don't appear to have worked out or have large muscles. This is the strength that allows a father to whoop on his sons even when the sons should have reached that peak physical prime. My theory is that at 25 I will be at my prime, but I wonder sometimes because of OMS if that is true.

Mile 21 comes around. I'm fighting against my better instincts which tell me to quit but I'm churning my legs, trying to keep running. This Runtex man comes gracefully out of the thicket, blatantly flaunting his superior SEVENTY YEAR OLD LEGS. "Nathan, this man is 70 looking, you can keep pace with him for the rest of the marathon." I believed that illusion for a couple of minutes. Then I realized he was in better shape and I had been bested. This man, is, the man I thought. I hope when I'm 70 that I have the skill of this old man. Then he ran off into the distance, maintaining his pace while mine tapered off. Those last 6 miles really are a killer.

But know everyone, that I, Nathan Alan Apollo Krawetzke, did not juice. I took no performance enhancing drugs. No muscle milk, no roids, no goos. Goos? People offered me these goos that are simple sugars that can give you energy. Modern creations of man.

"Just try it Nathan, everyones doing it, don't you want to be cool? They'll help you finish strong and keep you energized. You should give it a go"

"You keep your filthy goos! Do I look like the Barry Bonds or Lloyd Flandis of marathon running? I'm running this all natural. Scruff McGruff taught me well, along with the DARE Bear."

"Just say no" ran through my head. I thought of the disappointment of my parents as other parents heard in the media and looked down on a shamed family. "Oh, your son took goos, oh my, pity, what a shame, that boy had potential, why did he feel he had to go that eXtreme? Pity, pity..."

I ran it clean!

This was on my life list. It has been crossed off. I'm claiming credit as the first Krawetzke to run a marathon. Perhaps the first Schaupp. Does that make me a runner? I've always thought runners were odd. I'd rather play tennis, soccer, or bball. History shall decide.

Wimbledon! John Isner. Phenomenal.

Soccer! Team USA! I've woken up early to watch the games at a bar downtown that plays them (6 AM here). If you aren't watching, what the heaven are you doing? Get it in gear. Lock it up. We're in the top 16. Watch the game Saturday. Catch the fever. USA. If you don't care, you're probably a terrorist because you certainly aren't a patriot. In honor of the 4th, and not having to say the word honour with an English U, root for America and for freedom.

I have yet to see a bear, but I've seen a print and some scat. Maybe if I can get up to Denali I'll be able to see some. Someone got attacked (and was barely hurt) on a trail in a state park by Anchorage b/c they were riding their bike by a stream where bears hunt for fish (bears are surprised by fast moving bikers and so react). Some wanted the trail closed. Mayor Dan Sullivan said roughly "we shall not cede an urban, human, park to the bear enemy. this is our city." I agreed 100%. We've claimed this land bears. There are many human traitors/bear lovers/freedom haters though who have complained about this. "Bears were here first and they can do whatever they want. I hate humans," they say. Unbelievable, I know.

Soon, bears will attempt to wear suits like in Animal Farm, and Moose will press for a right to vote. We Alaskans can't let that happen. Not on my watch. I shall fight for what George Washington gave us. You betcha.

I should be home in August for all those interested parties.