Sneaky Runners

Some may have heard, but if you haven't, I've been coerced by my friend Ryan to run a half marathon. I know you might say, "That fat tub o' lard, he can't run 13 miles". Well to all of you who say that, ha, I ran 11-12 miles on last Saturday, I wasnt counting, but I think it was that much, really. How do I know, well Ryan thought that we should run about 9-10 miles going south along the lakeshore, we somehow got caught up in the Soldier Field 10 miler, and we were running against the flow. So some Kenyans at the front of the line were breezing past us with no problems, the problems came when were were running into runners trying to make good time. One guy yelled obsenities at Ryan which caused Ryan to want to run into runners and screw up their time. It was getting serious so I went into the grass.
We ran almost to Hyde Park, actually Promentory Point, stretched out, then followed all the stragglers all the way back into Soldier Field. When I entered the field, through the area where the players entered the field, we were greeted with a hero's welcome, as if they knew I had run the most I had ever ran in my life, beating my all time record of running ten miles straight without training, when I finished High Road. It didnt matter if we didnt have our runners number. We had a photo finish, we were on the jumbotron, and we were offered some kind of medal. (I declined). After we soaked everyting in, we proceeded to mooch as much free stuff as we could during the after party. SWAG! STUFF WE ALL GET, as Ryan would say.
The feeling of accomlishment was great, on to the half marathon, not a bad day for a fat tub o' lard like me.

Camping

Every now and then, a True Chicagoan needs a little time away from the city for a little R & R. This year we went camping to the Warren Dunes with some couples from our church. Now I don't like to do much work on vacation, so I was worried about having to pitch a tent and all the other inconveniences that come with the camping experience, but my friend Brian helped us and the tent was up in no time. Katie and I were also worried about Liam burning up in the fire, or getting eaten by a snake, falling into quicksand, and worst of all, crying all night in a tent during quiet hours. However the sweet country air put Liam into a deep sleep both nights. He slept better than he does at home. Maybe we should become vagabonds and Liam will sleep just fine.
We hiked and climed some dunes the first night, the sunset was breathtaking especially because it was clear enough to get a shot of the skyline from the Michigan side of the lake.

The next day it Katie, Liam, and I climbed the 20 story dune, well Liam didnt climb, I had him in my backpack while he screamed for Katie and pulled my hair, while I lugged 40 pds on my back and felt heart palpatations. Once we got over the dune we made our way to the beach were I gave Katie some free time and took Liam and his best friend on the trip, Elisa, to the water. It was so cold, but Liam wasn't afraid, we would run in and when it got too cold we would run out. We buried Elisa, skipped rocks, threw driftwood into the water, and said hi to boats, we had a great time.
When the little ones went down, we played couples olympics, compared engagement stories (ours won), and played the newlywed game. Katie and I thought that it would be difficult to get to know some of the couples, but I think the games put everyone in a place where they could relate to each other. We headed for home at about eleven the next morning, and I couldnt ask for a more perfect bookend to our vacation, a leisurely ride home, great conversation with my wife, and a shot of the Chicago skyline coming north on the Dan Ryan. Nothing like a good vacation away to get you pumped up about coming home to our beautiful city.

Crack Pipe

My car was found the day after it got stolen. My cell, wallet, my school bag with student work, and paint from my trunk--- all gone. Oh, and I saw a crack pipe for the first time.... in my back seat.

My Bike Ride

I hadn't been on a bike for over ten years. The guys at the bike shop made fun of the Huffy bike I own. My car just got stolen. Now that I'm on the street, all vulnerable, I am fearful of True Chicago drivers, especially driving on Milwaukee Avenue. Especially, because I don't pay attention, I like to daydream. I am afraid of being crushed underneath a truck. I don't like how I look in one of those bike hats. I don't want to sweat in my work clothes. I am going to ride on the sidewalk, I don't care about bike ettiquette or the bike rules of the road. I dont like my nieghbor calling me a yuppie for riding my bike. I made it home safe, I'll it try again tomorrow.

Crime Victim

I have lived in Chicago all my life, I have been known to fight tooth and nail against anyone who says that the city dangerous place or isn't a safe place to raise kids. I could say that I never had been a victim of crime in my own city, but today changed all that. Today, I was a victim of grand theft auto.
Here's the story: I had been wanting to ride a bike to work for about two years and I had been in the market for a bike. While I was pricing one out, my brother informed me that he had one stored away in the basement of my school, he use to ride it when we worked together. It was a nice day so I decided to take it to Kozy's bike shop, to get it's tires filled and seat adjusted. While it was getting serviced, this scraggly skinny lookin long haired dude comes in bugging the guy fixing my bike to fix one of the chain links. He mentioned he wasn't from around here and kept insisting that his chain link get fixed. He opens up a crumpled paper towel and produces this rusty old chain, lays it on the floor and begins talking to himself. I thought it strange, but paid no attention and went off to browse the store. I found a clip on bicycle rack, bought it, then brought it back downstairs to get it installed. After it was installed, I left and went to test out the bike around the block. I came back and realized my car was missing. At first I thought, maybe it was towed. Then I checked my pockets for my keys. Missing.
I proceeded down to the service counter and asked if anyone had seen keys; the clerk mentioned he had seen the keys on the counter and asked the man with the chain if they were his. The guy said no. Then the clerk and I realized that this dude took my car.
I called the police, they arrived twenty minutes later they arrived. I have to mention that they were very kind to me and helped me think through the whole chain of events, for the police report. They questioned the fact that some crazy, scrappy fella could have the wherewith all to pull grand theft auto in broad daylight. They thought it could be an inside job, bikers running a car theft ring . Quite plausible I thought, my car, stolen near a bike shop, maybe some bicycle activists took it and junked it in the name of our fragile planet. At 5:00, I stood in front of the shop, a young man stranded miles away from home, without the comfort of my vehicle and my sedentary lifestyle, alone with a bike. i rode home, wet, sweaty, back hurting. Could this event been the prelude to a life live much more fully. Nah, I missed my car.