November Work Outs and Runs

 

11 23 25 21:10

I went for a run today.  It was more than 6 miles and I was thinking maybe I should sign up for the Christmas race again this year.  Last year, I ran in the single digits, down Main Street and up hills and over streams.  I can do it.  But I have not been running as consistently in the past few months.  I have my reasons.  It used to be every other day and then three times a week and two times, but the last couple have been one 4 miler and couple of milers on the tread mill at the gym.  There’s so much to say about a good run, my mood is better, a sense of accomplishment, seeing a few other runners and bikers.  There’s a trail I used to take fairly often and it’s been weeks – dare say months since I was on the trail.  It’s off of Sand Island and leads under train trestles.  I was surprised I was able to go out for the distance and get back feeling very good.  Good enough to get to the gym for a little work out.

11/30/2025 21:13

And a week later, I was on my ass for most of the day.  Meli and I have been battling a virus that effecting our throats, coughing fits and our voices are raspy and whispery like Miles Davis in any interview.  No run today.  Tomorrow, back to work.  I took a walk today and finished my push-ups.  Our gym has a board and if you make it to the gym, at least 12 times you get on the board and if you go 15 times you’re in another group and 20 or more, well you make the elite group.  My goal each month is to get on the board, at least 12.  Considering we flew back on 11/9, I made the board. 

Dave and Rennee stopped over yesterday with dinner, White Castle and Bo Jangles Fried Chicken.  I have not had a White Castle in ten years.  And my body was paying the price.  Overall, we eat healthy in this house and eating fast food is a treat.  Tastes good going down, but my body sends off warning shots, what the fuck are you putting in me? 

And Thanksgiving, we spent Wednesday night in a hotel in Philadelphia with a beautiful view of the river and skyline and saw the parade.  It was the first for both of us and next year we’re planning to take in the Macy’s parade in NYC, the 100^th anniversary and besides, I want Meli to see the floats.  The room is already booked.

Tomorrow night, Patti Smith reading in Philadelphia.

Thank you for reading this

Installing Ring and Immigration frustration, Part 2

September 5, 2022

19:53

 

It’s Labor Day.  I was drilling holes in our home trying to find a way I get the Ring wires up from the basement where’s there’s plug set up high and the mystery is getting the damn wires up and through the wall to where the doorbell will be.  Let me explain. This house is solid.  Concrete. It’s not blowing over.  I may need to hire an electrician.  If you live in an older home and thinking of Ring, try the wireless.  In my opinion, it will be less hassle and less money in the long run, but you need to charge the batteries.  I ran earlier.  More than four miles, but my right knee is acting up.  A lot of walking and I had a shitty time in the humidity.  There was minimal traffic due to the holiday.  Passed a few dog walkers who scowled when I said good morning.  The attorney called Meli from Mexico.  Here’s the scoop, one of my clients works and lives in CDMX and reached out to a friend who is an attorney. The attorney thought Meli was in Mexico and a Mexican.  She said Meli needs to submit her birth certificate with a stamp.  The good news, we found that we could request the police records on-line, avoiding the trips back to the Mexican Embassy in San Jose.  No handwritten letters.  The bad news, all of September is booked, and she scheduled an opening on October 3^rd and now she needs to get a birth cert with a stamp.  Always something.  The attorney told her on Friday, we should have the police record this week, this Friday the latest.  Now that is out.  We’re back to waiting for October which will come fast.  I waited for August to breeze by since she had her interview on the 23^rd.  I thought about flying down to visit her, but that would be a waste since there is a possibility, she will fly back with me next month.  I can look back on this and say, I should have hired an immigration attorney.  If I did, we may be together at this time.  The normal process is two years for a spousal visa, and yet this is not normal.  She lived in Chile and Mexico.  More paperwork. More bureaucratic bullshit.  She went to the post office and sent for her birth certificate with a stamp.  It will take two weeks from the Costa Rican government.  I need to be patient.  We need to be patient.  I’ve been patient.  We’ve been patient.

  

Thank you for reading this.

Last Winter run in Bethlehem in 2019

12/16/19 22:45 Bethlehem, PA

I went for a run tonight.  It was dark.  I wore black sweat pants, black gloves, but my new pullover is green and reflects lights.  While I was out in the cool air I realized this may be my last run this year in the US.  No doubt, the last run in Bethlehem in 2019.  Tomorrow night, I am finishing packing and driving back to Long Island.  Getting closer to my trip to Costa Rica, flying out on an early 6:15 flight out of JFK.  My life in the sun will begin on Friday afternoon.  Sun beating on me in San Jose, Costa Rica.  I’ll meet Meli at the airport.  After clearing immigration, we will be together.  Rings in my bag.  My suit for our wedding packed in my luggage with my new black shores.  Getting married on the lake, and the serene idea that this is eternal, like a deep breath, carrying us to a grace.  So, I ran down to the Steel Stacks since that was part of my goals today.  I stopped to see a display that is open on the weekends.  There were trees and ice sculptures.  There were girls taking pictures and one said it was cold, but I disagreed as sweat dribbled from my face in the frigid air.  I was alone.  I could not believe the lack of security, there were reefs for sale and yard banners, bells, and anyone could have swept them up and ran off with the decorations.  But there is no crime in Christmas city.  I got back on the road after taking some pictures and crossed the bridge and back up N New Street.  The city was quiet.  It was evening and I was hungry, but kept running.  I missed meditation tonight.  I wanted to go, but my run was longer.  I read tonight, it was another one of my goals.  I can feel my body easing towards to bed.  The last night in Bethlehem for this year.  Kind of sad, but why?  I don’t know.  I am tired.  Listening to Talking Heads, this must be the place.

Gratitude:

1)      Sober

2)      Bob Dylan, If Not for you

3)      Bethlehem

4)      Meli’s smile

5)      Health

Thank you for reading this

Peenus Picture in Bethlehem

11/30/19 22:48 Bethlehem, PA

It’s my first night back in over a week.  Meli and I were on the phone a little while ago, there are questions about how Ali and I lived together for so long.  Instead of elaborating here, I will say that we tried to make the best of the situation we were in.  When I was younger, I had a tendency to romanticize the struggles we encountered, the economic hardship of the young writer with a drinking problem and a wandering eye.  The irresponsible man who liked to avoid any confrontation and felt somewhere or someone would drop down from the skies and have the ability to take him out of the life he was leading.  25 years later, I am wiser. I am trying to learn how to take care of my life, put some order into it.  It’s not just the kids, but also my ex and my parents and siblings.  I am discovering that I can make it.  Meli has been able to share her progress, she’s very independent.  Years ago that would have threatened me, I assumed to have a healthy relationship there must be some sort of dependency.  Balance was leaning to the person in-charge.  But this is not the case.  We are forging a real union based on equals.  Based on respect and love.  When I arrived back here this morning, I believe I arrived in a little over two hours from Long Island, maybe that’s a new record. Soon, I was running into the chores.  Laundry, water the plants, get out for a long run cause it’s going to snow tomorrow, who knows when I can get in a run again?  Go!  I ran for over ten miles today.  It felt great, I had the energy and could have went on for more, but wanted to speak to Meli.  Take clothes from washing machine, throw in dryer, check lint, food shopping, dry cleaner, work on my power point, take a shower.  It’s almost 11:00 and I am beat.  I will work on the new novel and eventually get to sleep.  But it is odd being back here.  I didn’t see a movie and maybe tomorrow is better?  It’s time to get ready for bed.  Maybe it’s time to check out the 6:30 AM meeting in the morning, if it’s not snowing too much.  Maybe not.

Thank you for reading this.

How are you?

10/29/19 22:36 Bethlehem

How are you?  I should pose that question and see what responses I receive.  Leave your comments at the bottom.  But seriously, how are you?  I’ve been keeping up my bargain in this inconsequential and distant relationship.  I get to spill some thoughts on this page in an attempt to make sense of the world.  So, let’s discuss the politic, the sports, the duality that exist in all of us.  But I am curious how you are.  Do tell: trainwriter@gmail.com email is so passé.

After work I went running. It was too early for me to hit the road.  My hamstrings are tight and the thigh muscles were aching.  It was supposed to be a short run and it was, only three miles.  If I don’t run, I feel lethargic at work and being in sales and remotely lethargic is asking for trouble.

That’s it for today.  Meli is presenting something to me in Spanish.  It’s interesting to see and to listen and not understand a word.  But she goes on and we communicate this way for another hour or so. But really my friend, how are you?

Thank you for reading.

Last long run before the half next week

10/19/19 22:54 Bethlehem, PA

Ran 10.24 miles today. At this time of the night I am having a difficult time keeping my eyes open.  It was an early start to the day.  I called Fred and we made plans to get together.  I will write more about seeing Fred for the first time in forty years tomorrow.  Tonight is a record of running.  The weather was perfect, an autumn chill.  The sky was clear and I was able to keep a decent pace.  I walked a couple of times, no a few times.  I could feel my right hamstring tighten around mile 8, but all in all, I feel I can run the half next week.  I will run the half.  I must run the half.

Thank you for reading this

Training for two weeks to run a half marathon

10/10/19 21:32 Bethlehem

Went for a run earlier.  8 miles through this town, on the rail road trail and around the casino and back to the house.  I am checking if I can run a half marathon in two weeks.  The Suffolk County Marathon and half and 10K and 5 K and everything in between is being held on 10/27.  Join me on my training and let us run together on the South shore on Long Island.  Let us pray dear friends that it does not rain.

Mo Cheeks is going to France next month.

Joey was visiting her, we FaceTime, or FaceTimed?  What is correct?

I may fly back to Mexico in November and back to Costa Rica in December for Christmas.

Thank you for reading this.  

Running the Suffolk County Marathon in the rain!

11/3/17 16:33

Last Sunday, I ran the Suffolk County Marathon.  Anytime I mentioned I was preparing to run a marathon, notice my friend, “a” I was asked if I was running THE New York City Marathon.  No, I responded, and clarified, I am going to run the Suffolk County Marathon. 

Last year, I ran the half marathon with barely any preparation.  I challenged myself, two weeks before the race, if I can run 10 miles, I can run the half.  I accomplished the task and beat the time I wanted. 

A marathon is a lot different.  There are training guides which I could have followed.  I don’t follow no guides.  I was a rogue marathoner.  I increased my distance gradually.  I wanted to prove I can run a marathon.  It’s been a goal of mine.  Placed on the bucket list, with flying a plane – done, getting to bat in a major league game.  Not.  And having a book contract with a major publishing company.

The last three or four years I told myself, run your first marathon.  Years passed.  Run one by the time you’re 50.  That threshold passed, a few weeks back I turned 52. 

Preparing for a marathon takes insanity, slight determination and the constant pursuit of a vague and very long race in the future.  In April of this year, I signed up for the marathon.  Noe that I paid for it, I was committed.  I had time.  The race was at the end of October and for most of this year it felt like a lifetime away. Slowly, I increased my distance.  I could have psyched myself and at times I did, reminding myself not to push it.  I was injured while in yoga.  I know what you’re thinking.  Yoga?  What the?  The hamstring was the culprit and for weeks I was hobbling.  Gradually, I got back in the game, slowly and carefully, and after six weeks I was back.  My pace was back.  I was making good time.  I ran a 10 K race in the woods, but started too fast and by the end of the race, I was huffing, watching other racers pass me in their steady pace, which I scoffed at earlier as I hustled past them.  Slow pokes!  They got me.  Lesson one, pace yourself.  Last year, I started the half marathon faster than I should and by the end, I was beat.  I am a slow learner. 

Let’s start with the weather.  It was raining.  The organizers sent an email the night before the race, to let the runners know, it will be raining.  If that wasn’t bad, the after race events (music, mingling, free beer) were cancelled, but dear runners - the race will continue.  And by the way - there is a chance of lightning.  If there is lightning, seek shelter, under someone’s front porch.  Imagine a huddled, dripping mass of humanity cringing for safety under a stranger’s front porch.  The cops are called.  Who is on your front porch?  A dozen joggers?  We’ll send someone over.  Could be a new cult. 

The night before the race, I laid out my clothes, the shorts, the socks, the t-shirt and personalized bib and was ready.  I knew it was going to rain, but did not expect the rain from the time I left the house at 06:30 to the time I hobbled back down the driveway hours after the race.   

I took my time at the start, like I said I am a slow learner.  I told myself the first two miles, go slow.  I stayed at the even pace, 9 minute mile for a good chunk of the race and in fact I did not stop.  Typically, I get to mile 7 and slow down and walk a hundred yards and get back on it.  I was still running past 12 without a break.

Carrying my bottles, one filled with Gatorade and the other water and a nuun tablet for sodium. I bought GU packets and a Gatorade extra energy packet.  I don’t mean to be crude, but I had more energy stuffed in my pockets in case I ended up lost and abandoned on the side of the road.  I passed the water stations and thanked the volunteers for coming out in the rain.  I kept going.  Keep going.

Rain seeped into every pore of my skin.  The Under Armor underwear which I typically highly recommend, was chaffing an area that is very sensitive…to men.  That was around mile 13.  Around the same time my knee was sending me warning signals.  Remember me?  I’m the area you pushed the week before when you intended only go out for 10 miles?  Me? Yet you wanted to run 16!  Bright idea, Einstein, now take this…ouch, and I walked and felt this odd twisting, liquid sensation.  I tugged the underwear away from the raw skin.  It was either or.  Deal with one pain or the other.  My knee behaved and I got my head back into the race.

My drenched shorts started to slide down.  I knew I needed help.  I saw a cop and ran over and asked if he had scissors, I needed to cut the cord in my shorts and pull it tighter.  No, he said there’s a First Aid station a mile away.  He was not going to help.  I made it to the First Aid station was given scissors and pulled the cord.  The cord was ripping out from the liner.  I was fucked.  Need tape?  The kid asked.  No, I should be alright.  The cord stopped pulling out from the liner and I was able to tie it up and got back out on the street.  A woman approached me, I told her my shorts were falling down.  She laughed nervously and quickly passed me.  What?  Do I offend?

There is an area where the half marathon runners are separated, they turn down a long driveway which once was Dowling College.  The noble and gallant marathon runners, continue straight and continue.  We ran like soaked idiot warriors.  Briefly panic struck, it felt as if we were lost - till I saw the First Aid stations and the mile markers.  I passed marker 17.  Let me be clear, the marker 17 was facing the runners in the opposite direction, the fast runners who were finishing the race.  I comforted myself with the thought, eventually, I would face the marker from the correct angle.  As that point, I was feeling beat, I felt I had run 17 miles.  I was barely over 10.

Through a neighborhood, the cops blocking the roads.  Through the empty streets, one guy ahead of me stops and takes in a GU.  He’s shorter and slower than me and I can tell he’s a couple, maybe even ten years on me?  I should beat him.  Right?  I pass him and make my way into the woods.  What’s this?  A crowd?  Cheering us on.

A narrow path weaved through the drenched trees.  Puddles the size of small ponds caught the constant rain drops.  I made way around the puddles and tried to stay on the path.  What difference did it make?  My shoes were soaked like everything around me.   The air inside the woods was still.  Barely a sound escaped except for my breath that carried out a long painful sigh. Runners were passing me.  I kept my eye on the guy who I passed earlier.  As long as I beat him I was making progress.

The path is lonely.  The roads were empty, only the cheerful volunteers at the water stops who encouraged us.  The volunteer cops stood on the side of the roads with their yellow rain coats.  They appeared like solemn monks contemplating the weather.

After passing marker 17, I walked more frequently.   The older runner passed me and I did not give a shit.  The County Executive who organized this race for the third year in a row passed me.  I saw him earlier in the race and told him this was my first marathon.  Good luck, he said with a smile.  The second time I was him was when he passed me.  Shit, I thought he was slow.  Go Steve, I said and nodded and he raised a limp thumb.  We were all in the same boat by mile 20.  I didn’t want to quit, but I wanted to get the race over with. 

I found a Porta Potty and took a piss.  The sensitive area I detailed for you previously was screaming at me.  Why did you do this to us?  Settle down.  I was back out on the street.

There was one woman who was having a difficult time.  We passed each other a few times, until 22 when she was out.  She was running with a member from her club, who was about my age.   We were the same height and yet he was leaner.   He looked as if he could run four marathons and smiled over at me when I was walking, You alright?  I looked at him and smiled back, Yeah, just trying to finish.

When we passed through Sayville earlier, there was a good crowd.  Hours later as we moved our slow bodies and sore feet and aching legs, there were a few die hard waiting.   We moved through the town.  Getting closer. 

One guy kept running and walking.  He said we were playing leap frog with each other.  There is a lot of back and forth banter as the race progressed.  You’re travelling with these strangers for an hour or two, each keeping pace with the other, and yet I wanted to finish.  Mile 24.

I saw my sister Eileen close to the finish line.  She was jumping up and down and tried to take pictures of me.  I assume the startling gate was the finish and made by way over.  I raised my arms a most painful triumphant pose. There were only a couple of people standing there.  It was odd. I was told it was not the finish line. Go straight down the hill.

Picking up my pace and seeing the actual finish line, the crowd, one of my targets was ahead of me and I ran as fast as I could and pulled in ahead of him.  I beat him.  I finished, but not with great time.  I significantly surpassed my intended goal, and yet it was a miserable day.  The race was over. I was starving.  Grabbed a banana and bagel.  Was given my medal. Eileen came over and pictures were taken.  Let’s get out of here.  Ali texted to congratulate me and that made my day. 

Maybe next year I will run THE New York City Marathon.

Thank you for reading this.

Running shakes off the Blues

I try to run every other day. Mornings are best, but when I feel days have passed and a little sluggish, I’d get home after work and go out for a 3 mile run. Avoiding the blues, lethargic, even sick, I push myself and get out. Running is not difficult for me, there’s not a lot pain. This summer there were extreme humid days and I should have skipped those days, breathing was difficult, my muscles ached since they were not receiving the rich oxygen; I stopped running and would walk losing time and feeling the pressure of getting on the road to work. Of course the spring and summer are best. Getting out with a long sleeve t-shirt that soaks up the sweat is best. My sneakers are light and I try to run in shorts as often as possible. My faded orange baseball cap had sucked and dried up layers of white sweat stains. Sometimes I assume strangers look at me and guess if I played ball. Thoughts swirl back and forth, and there have been some satoris or awakenings during some runs. My writing has been effected in a positive way, the ideas of a scene – how it would develop - the narration, a character emerges or a scene shifts and when I get home I try to remember it all. When I travel I like to run in different cities, there’s an intimacy with the streets and the landmarks that only a runner can have. At home, there are a few occasions when I go out for long runs, to the end of the Port Jefferson harbor where the boats and ferries pass through a narrow opening…big rocks…the desolation of shells and abandoned wrecks. Those runs are rare, but when I get one in, I feel a closer connection to God and send off prayers in the salty breezes.