Art La Flamme

I suppose I’ve always been known for having some crazy ideas. This, though, is probably pretty high up on the list of craziest things I’ve done.

Over 30 calendar days, I just ran 300 miles. I didn’t run 300 miles in 30 days — I actually did it in just 26 days. But we’ll get to that.

I’m not really sure where this idea came from. Last month, I was in Baghdad for a 10 day visit, and while there I ran about 66 miles on 5 runs. That seemed like a lot of running to me — my shortest run was 10 miles, but my longest was 18. I had been able to get off of the airplane, after flying half way around the world, and I’d needed only a short stop at the chow hall before I’d knocked out a 10 mile run. In Baghdad, in the summer.

When I got back, I was feeling strong. I was feeling fit. I was realizing that I was a stronger runner than I thought.

Which, by the way, is a very odd realization to make.

When I got back to the office, after the 4th of July weekend, I was talking with one of my sections about the trip and the holiday weekend. 5 runs in Baghdad, for 66 miles. And the long 4 day weekend? I’d done three runs for a hair over 40 miles. I bet, I said, I could sustain 10 miles per day.

Now, I won’t tell you exactly what they said — Soldiers can sometimes use, um, colorful language — but suffice it to say, this section (hereafter referred to as The Zombies) disagreed. Nope, you can’t do it, they said.

Fine, I said. I’ll prove you wrong. In fact, I bet I can do it for a month.

Oh, wait — better still. I’ll race you to 300 miles. I’ll do it in 30 days, and I bet you I can do the 300 miles faster than you can.

Did I mention that The Zombies number about 15? Yeah — big section of Soldiers. Me, vs. more than a dozen Soldiers, running to see if:

1. I could average 10 miles per day for 30 days;
2. I could run 300 miles in 30 days;
3. I could run 300 miles before all of them, combined.

300 miles. Sparta!

Yeah. Not really sure what I was thinking. On the surface, that seems like an insanely dumb challenge to issue. I hope it’s no surprise that they agreed. They eagerly agreed. Of course, I had also run 10+ miles that morning, meaning that in the first 5 days of July, I’d run 50+ miles. One Zombie had run about 10 miles over the weekend (their so-called ringer).

I was winning.

So, how does one run 300 miles over 30 days? Well, carefully and with a lot of planning. I’m quite sure my wife thought I’d gone mad when i told her I was doing this. Not that I was trying, but that I was going to actually do it. I run at a pace that is often between 9 and 10 minutes per mile — that’s 100 minutes of running per day. Do you have an extra 100 minutes every day for running, and extra time for a very good shower and a change of clothes? I didn’t. Certainly not every day.

I had to make it in the morning. On weekdays, my units meets at 0630 for accountability. Most days, we then exercise for an hour, but I often do not have to be in the office until 0900. Done right, I could run for some time before the 0630 formation, and then I could run for maybe 90 minutes more before I’d need to be rushing into the shower and on to the office.

On Schofield Barracks, I put together a few runs of the right lengths. A 3 mile run up a hill. A 6 mile loop. An 8 mile loop. A 9.25 mile loop. I found that, if I was parked and suited up, I could start running at 0530 for the 6 mile loop, and would finish in time for my 0630 formation. If I was parked and suited up, I could start running at 0500 for the 8.25 mile loop, and be finished in time for the 0530 formation. I could do another 6 or 8 miles (or even 9.25 if I pushed it) and still make it to the office.

But being parked and suited up at 0530 means leaving the house by 0500, or maybe 0510 by the latest. Which means getting up at 0430, to finalize my gear (which I’d pack the night before), have a bowl of Cheerio’s, and to use the facilities (a very serious part of the day).

Ugh. 0430. That’s early. To get 7 and a half hours of sleep, that means being asleep at 2100 / 9 pm. Not in bed, but asleep.

How important is running to you? Would you be asleep at 9 pm most every night, just to be able to have a lot of rally great runs?

And yes, that hour got earlier and earlier, based on just how early I was trying to get up. I had days when I started running at 0500, which meant I was up at 0400. The earliest was this morning; I was up at 0330, running at 0430, and had done almost a half marathon before I even said hello to the Army or my Soldiers at 0630.

Oh, and yes — Cheerios. Every morning, if I can, I have a big bowl of Cheerios. Not big, like Seinfeld, but a good sized bowl of Cheerios, preferably with 1% milk. I have no special eating plan, no special diet. I start my day with Cheerios because I like them and because they seem to work well with running.

Those who known me best also know that while I am not a serious runner, I am very serious about my running. It’s a big, big part of my life. But not something that dominates my life.

I don’t live on Alaskan salmon and brown rice grown on the eastern slopes of the Andes. I don’t eat mega-protein bars, or take special gels. I haven’t sworn off ice cream or alcohol — I mean really, doing that would ruin everything.

No, I try to eat right, but I also eat whatever the hell I want, or whatever the hell my body tells me it needs. Swedish fish? Yeah, sometimes. Peanut M&M’s? There are those days. Sticky rice and mixed vegetables? Sometimes that’s what just seems right. I don’t load up on things, to prepare me for running, and I don’t act differently after runs, to recover / grow muscle / lose weight / etc. I eat, I run, I sleep some.

Have I lost weight? Not really. I had lost some, more for sure, in the prior year. Mid 2009, I weighed maybe 212 lbs. By this summer, I was down at or below 200. Sometimes below, sometimes above. I didn’t / don’t care. But I certainly do feel fit these days.

And my weight certainly does wiggle some. In a week, I could go from as low as 195 to as high as 207. A lot of that is water and food and everything else. It all tends to even out around 200, but it does wiggle. Weird, huh?

Anyway, that’s sleep and food. Now, about those miles.

As you can see, it’s a slow and steady climb to get to 300. Nothing big, nothing brash, nothing fancy. A lot of run. 26 out of 30 days.

But look at that pie chart. Now, I’ve known for a long time at the 10 mile to half-marathon distance was my sweet spot, the length of run with which I am happiest. 5 out of the 26 runs were less than 10 miles, with the shortest being just 3 miles. But that 3 mile day came right after I had a 21.75 mile day, one of just 3 days when I ran 15 or more miles. I wonder how many times one of the Zombies ran 3 miles.

But look at that big wedge — 18 of the 26 runs were 10 or more miles, and less than 15 miles. While I averaged 10 miles per day for the 30 days of this challenge, I actually averaged 11.54 miles per run, for the 26 days I did run during this 30 day period.

That just seems like a lot. A lot in that range, and a lot to average.

But, I did have 4 days when I did not run. One was the 4th of July, and as I mentioned, I had done 40+ miles during the 1-3 July window. There were two days when I had duty, and was unable to run in the morning. And one day I had a meeting at 0600, and could not run. I knew there’d be those days, and I did my best to plan for them and to adjust for them. Obviously, with some success.

I’d like to add, though, that this wasn’t some mad dash for mileage. On the weekends, especially, I’d often take to the hills to continue my adventures in running and seeing Oahu. Some of those runs turned out to be less than 10 miles, sure, but they were insanely beautiful, and included some places that have long been on my list of places to go run.

And it’s been anything but flat. My 6 mile loop goes from about 950 feet of elevation, up to about 1150 feet of elevation. The 9.25 mile loop goes further, up to about 1250 feet. But I did runs that went from the beach to a mountain pass at 1150 feet, and even from the beach up the side of a mountain, to about 2300 feet of elevation. I’d run where I wanted to run, not where I’d easily be able to get my miles. I’d have preferred to have not made the 300 mile mark, than to have missed those runs.

Three more things, and then I’ll wrap this up.

1. It’s hard to run these kinds of miles while in the Army, and not draw attention. Showing up to the first formation of the day literally dripping with sweat after 6 or 8 or more miles, well, it kind of sticks out. Showing up wearing a Camelbak, too, is a bit out of place. Towards the end, I’ve had people asking me how far I’d run that day, how I was doing on reaching 300 etc. It’s been an unusual project, even by Army standards.

2. My shoes are near death. They are a pair of Nike Pegasus, one of two pairs I bought this year back when I had maybe 600 or 700 miles on my last pair (which were ultimately good for 1000+ miles of running). This pair, though, started to split on the sides after 300 or 400 miles. I’ve been hoping they’d last through this adventure, and they barely have. I’ll do one more victory run on them in the morning, before I hide them in the yard next door (they really, really stink, too — happy birthday, Chandra!).

3. Somewhere in the middle of all this, I tried out for the 10-Miler team for my Division. I actually made it as an alternate, not because I’d fast, but because I don’t quit. While running the race, and at other times, people would ask me why I run so much (especially for an old guy). I tell them I train as I fight — this is my zombie plan. When the going gets tough, I’m going to grab my shoes and my camelbak and I’m going to outrun the zombies.

Which, by the way, I did. I did my 300 mile before The Zombies did. I won.

Now that the marathon is behind me, block leave has come and gone, and the new year is just about here, I am starting to look forward to 2010 and what it may bring. I don’t know yet if I will be packing out again, to go back to Iraq or maybe Afghanistan, but I suspect it will. Worst case it will. But I do know one thing — I want to get out and run more in 2010.

Getting ready for the Honolulu Marathon, for me, was less about the marathon itself and more about the running. I ran in Iraq, I ran in Hawai’i, I ran in Oregon and even some up in the mountains near Lake Arrowhead. I ran and ran and ran, mainly to deal with the stress of being either in Iraq, or of coming home and trying to adjust to something of a normal life.

But that was then. That was what got me to the marathon two weeks ago. I am soooooo past that now.

Now, I want to see Oahu.

So I am making plans. At the library last week, I picked up and spent some time flipping through A Runners Guide to O’ahu. When I saw it on the shelf, I thought just for a moment that it might be just what I needed. Well, it wasn’t, but it was a good start. It seems more focused on the running than on the island — and I want to see the island and all her beauty, using runs as the means.

With a little help from Google Earth and the wife, I have a small list of places to go and runs to see. And I am sure that list will grow and change over the coming year. I have no idea how many runs I will make, or how many places I will visit, or how well I will do blogging it all. But I’ll give it a short. There’s just too much on this island to see, too many places of such amazing beauty.

I’ll probably write them up as best I can, to post here on the site. I need to think through some of the basic things I will need to cover about every run — where to park, how to rate them, etc. I should be able to provide GPS data for them all, since I tend to run with my Garmin. And I should be able to make a Google Earth file for each on, too, to share more information as well. So far, I’ve started to play with the EveryTrail site (my stuff is here), to see how best to represent the data and fuse the GPS data to the photos. I may put some of the stuff onto that site as well, and talk about it on Facebook, too, but will likely try to point folks here to this address.

A year from now, I hope to have collected the information that I was hoping to find this month. I want to run trails and valleys, ridges and bike paths. I want to see the many facets of the island, her beauty and her various climates, and find a way to tell others about them while encouraging people to get out and run for the fun and adventure of it. Who knows, maybe I’ll have some luck with it. And who knows, maybe I’ll package it all up in a year and port it to the Kindle or something.

At some point, I’ll probably post my running ideas; I’m still working up that list. By all means, chime in if there are things that you think are worth seeing or visiting on a run.

On August 11, at Camp Speicher near Tikrit, Iraq, I snuck out at night and did a 3 mile run. It wasn’t fast, it wasn’t good in any sense of the term. But it was 3 miles. And it marked the start of my training for the 2009 Honolulu Marathon, using the Hal Higdon training plan.

That week, I ran 15.15 miles, and averaged a pace of about 8:45 minutes per mile. All told, I did 69 other training runs, leading up to the marathon today. Of the 461 miles in the training plan, I managed to do 459 of them — I did not do the two miles on this past Thursday, when I flew from Lake Arrowhead home to Oahu (and I had missed one other run, due to an injury, but I had dutifully made up the miles that week). For those 459 miles, I averaged a pace of 9:37 minutes per mile, and I averaged over 6 and a half miles per run for those 70 runs. These past two weeks, when I was in the mountains and snow of Lake Arrowhead, were when I had my slowest average page: 11:37 and then 11:23 per mile, with every other week averaging between 8:42 and 9:44 per mile. Doing it all, I sprained my ankle 4 times.

I never really looked at all those numbers until now. It seems like a lot. Driving 459 miles would be a long day. Often, running six miles feels like a lot — all the more so when I am not running a lot or training like this. And 4 ankle sprains? I don’t think I had sprained my ankle that much over the past 20 years combined. And while an average pace of 9:37 minutes per mile is nothing to write home about, it’s pretty close to the pace I ran today — 10:37.

And I guess the thing that really strikes awe in me, for all of this, is that I ran a lot of this in Iraq, did more in Hawaii, and then did some both in Eugene (aka Track Town, USA) and at Lake Arrowhead. I went from running at night in the deserts of Iraq, to running through the pineapple fields on Oahu, to running through history in Eugene, to stomping through ankle deep snow up and down the quad-runner trails that covers the ridges near Lake Arrowhead. In 4 months of running, I’ve sure covered the globe pretty well, and covered most every type of running, from roads to trails, from flat to steep, from desert climate to snow.

And while this may not seem like a big deal to you, it is to me: I ran low tech. In Iraq, I wore my Army PT uniform. No special tops, no special shorts or running pants. I didn’t carry water or gel packs or fancy jelly beans, but relied on water points from the around the base to keep hydrated. I can think of only one time — the 18 mile run I did here on Oahu — where I stopped for Gatorade during the run, and that was because it was cheaper than water to buy on base. I ran — and in the most unfancy ways I could.

During all this, I used one pair of running shoes. That might not seem like a noteworthy thing, but the officials at Nike and Brooks and all of the other running shoes would want me to believe that I need new shoes every 300 miles. Well, I’m just not believing that. I’m not some high tech racer, some modern day Ferrari in Nikes. I am a runner, and I run. I’d just as soon take off barefoot and in shorts, to run down a deer, as I would take off to run across the island to my office. Super high tech anything would be, I fear, just lost in my running.

And in August, I weighed 214 lbs. Today, when I got home from the marathon, I weighed 202. I am happy being anywhere in that range. I really don’t care what the number is (and while it’s in that range, the Army doesn’t care either). What I do love and care about is the feeling of strength that I get when I am running often and farther. I feel ready for the world at times like now.

Also, I love how this much running has made me feel. For as crazy as Iraq was during those last months, with a new job and the IBOL project on top of trying to go home and reintegrate with my family, I can’t think of a bad day. Endorphins are an amazing thing. My stress has been under control. My PTSD has been under control. I feel good, life is going well and is under control, and I am happy with where I am in life. And that’s the influence of the running, of the preparations I made for this marathon.

If you’ve read the book, Born to Run, then maybe this will make sense: I’ve been chasing a deer. I’ve been running for fun, not for speed or anything else. No carrying water, not eating along the way, not using fancy high tech stuff — it’s been about reaching down deep inside, and finding me by running. And I would not trade that for the world.

I have been so unfocused on the training part of all this, that it probably could be called something other than training. I’ve just been running — while also following some guidelines for distances. I’ve had more fun getting out and putting in the miles, without care or regard for times or intervals or pace or personal records. Running in Iraq at night gave me time alone, to clear my thoughts and let my mind wander. And it led me to IBOL — which was a great part of my 2009. I spent the summer, fall and now winter investing in running, and looking back at how my year in Iraq ended, with work and IBOL and a great return home to my family, I would have to say that it was a hell of an investment; a little less sleep gave me some great dividends.

Anyway, enough with all that. Poor Jack has been suffering through all this, trying to get to the part where I talk about the actual race event, so he can decide whether to add Honolulu to his 2010 Marathon plan.

This is the second marathon that I have run. I’ve also run some half marathons, too. There are a few things about Honolulu that make this race noteworthy.

1. Egads, it’s beautiful. From running along the Pacific, to coming around Diamond Head, to zipping through both Honolulu and Waikiki, it’s a great place to go running.

2. Wow, it’s flat. If you’ve never run one before, this would make for a fine first marathon.

3. The people are great. It’s a wonderful social event, with folks dressed as Yoda and Darth Vader, Minnie Mouse, brides, etc. And at something like 20,000 runners, it’s a big happy crowd.

4. The race organizers love the military. I’ll be honest — this marathon is expensive (registration started at over $100, and late registration the day prior was $225). But they cut us slack, not just with the late registration but also with the super-awesome registration fee of just $30 for active duty military. Saving 85% on the registration price was a nice, nice thing.

5. If you have to go somewhere for a marathon, Hawai’i is a damn fine place to go. We’ve had wonderful weather this week (though it’s rained the past two years), and I can’t recommend enough coming to Hawai’i — to run a marathon or just for vacation.

One bummer, though, is that the race starts at 0500 / 5 AM. Which means getting into Honolulu by 3 or 4. Being active duty military, the race registration folks had advised me to go to the Hale Koa hotel in Waikiki, and park there. The Hale Koa is an Army hotel right on the beach, and they have a nice parking garage there that cost me all of $12 to park while I did all of the marathon events. Yeah — $12. Nice. I loved that. That raised the total cost of the marathon to $42 for me — about as awesome as they come. Anyway, I snuck into the parking garage at about 3 AM, geared up (iPod, Garmin Forerunner 305, military ID, car key, and a spare $20) and then headed to the starting point.

The starting area is on the road outside of the Ala Moana Shopping Center, across from the Ala Moana State Recreation Area (which is really just a nice, big park). The park featured the all-important banks of porta potties, which had a near non-stop line right up the start of the race. The race folks had marked off sections for folks to stage, based upon expected finish times. Which was nice, until abut 10 minutes before the start when everyone crunched forward. See video of the staging, here. See the video of the fireworks, here.

And by the time I started to run, of course, I had to pee. I had to make the 2 or 3 mile look around Honolulu and back to the start line, before I could peel off and use those same porta-potties. And by the time the race had started, I felt a) tall and b) Caucasian. The race is sponsored by Japan Airlines (JAL), and the race does cater to a lot of visitors coming from Japan — so much so that the race has two websites, one for US / other, and one for Japan.

It wasn’t just that folks came from Japan to run, or that they came with travel groups / through travel agencies. A saw whole packs of folks, lining up together, staging together, with matching additional stuff on their shirts or just plain matching shirts. My favorites were the packs of runners I ran into later — a gaggle of 30-something-ish ladies, running as a pack, with someone out front – maybe their coach, maybe their tour guide, maybe both. All, though, looked to behaving fun, which I thought was awesome.

It was good that we had started so early. Though it was dark, it did set a nice setting for the start — which featured a fireworks display over just a starter’s pistol. It made for lousy photos, but hey — small price to pay.

The run really was uneventful. I tended to let my mind wander, though I was listening to music the whole time. Nice and pretty, without too much elevation change. And yes, folks were dressed crazy, which was pretty cool. But mostly it was just a very nice run. When we started, it was in the low 70′s, though it was likely closer to 80 when I finished. I walked through every water point, which were about every two miles until near the end, when they were every mile. I mostly had two cups of water at each water point; once I had half a banana, and once I had 7 jelly bellies that some nice lady was dispensing. But mostly I ran and let my mind wander where it may.

I was, though, the little social butterfly. I ran into a few folks from work; a bunch of us from the staff had decided to train up and do this, some (like me) doing it solo, but one big clump doing it with the lawyers.

And you know how Superman has his kryptonite? And Samson lost all his powers when his hair was cut? I was on track to do about a 4:30 marathon (10 minute miles, or about the same as I did in Luxembourg a few years ago) when my enemies massed their forces and resources, and deployed a keg to the race course. Damn them! Not only did I get beer, but I got only a little beer initially, so I had to go back and correct them on what it means to run a beer point during a very serious race like this. And I had to take a photo, too.

There’s something wrong with being middle aged, and 20 miles into a marathon, and considering doing a keg stand, just because it’d be a hell of a photo opportunity. Looking back now, I wish I had. Instead, I opted just for the standard photo with the ubiquitous red cups — the only thing keeping it from being a great party was that we were out in front of their house, and not in their kitchen.

After Eugene, I’ve taken to the hills east of Los Angeles, to spend 10 days with my father in law. After a year in Iraq, surrounded by the same people and same desert, day in and day out, I wanted / needed to get away and regroup.

10 days in Eugene sure did wonders for that. It was fantastic — a great chance to clear my head, think about the world and life and the things most important to see, while also reconnecting with the wife and kids.

But the kids needed to get back for school, so I’ve come here, to escape from it all some more. Hanging out with my father in law, and running some. I’m earning my keep by helping with drywall and the laundry list of tech support issues around the bachelor mountain pad.

The view from the house. What's not to love?

Did I mention the view? Lovely, isn’t it? I could just sit and stare for days on end. I’ve arrived just after some nasty weather had rolled through over the Thanksgiving holiday weekend. The snow lingers on the ground, the air is cool but not too cold, the sky is clear and the stars are about as bright as can be. Being here, and listening to the speech from President Obama, I had to wonder if mountainous views are my true calling.

And did I mention the running? The Honolulu Marathon is on 13 DEC, just a couple of days after I am due to leave here. After my long 20 mile run right after we landed in Eugene (the next day, actually), I am tapering. Which for me means less miles. I’ve gone from 40 mile weeks, to this week (21 total) as I work down to next week and running just 9 miles ahead of the marathon.

But I can’t come to the mountains and expect to run on flat terrain. Part of the fun of it all is the running and exploration and adventure of getting out and about, to see things. And a wee bit of it is about the challenges of running here — at 5500 feet elevation, in the cold, with snow on the ground and mud everywhere as snow melts.

Tuesday I did my prescribed 4 miles. Not having any idea what I was just, I just went out the front door, down the street to the end, and I took a right. A bit later, was passing this little ditty:

The roadsign said it was 3W12, and was for approved off road vehicles but not cars.

I’m unsure if the photo really captured how steeply this path heads up. It’s about half the width of a car, it’s all mud, and it’s steep. I made a mental note of the 3W12 name on the sign, and I headed further on down the road. The road ended at a water processing plant, but I headed further on down the road on what was likely a fire trail. My little 4 mile jaunt included just 341 feet of ascent and 571 feet of descent.

So on Tuesday, I headed back to go see what this 3W12 thing was all about. FIL said that it was one of a number of ATV and quad-friendly trails in the area, which sounded especially good for a Wednesday morning run (really, what ATV / quad driver would be out and about on the mountainside on a Wednesday morning?) Six miles was the plan, and whoooo doggie, was it a great six miles.

How good? Well, for starters, I averaged 12 minutes per mile, when I normally do about 9:15 or 9:30 per mile on these medium to longer runs. An hour and 11 minutes to do what I would otherwise have done in, say, 56 or 57 minutes.

It was 833 feet of ascent, and 1025 feet of descent — 1855 feet of elevation change, in 6 miles. I did do six mile runs in Iraq, that had less than 100 feet of elevation change. My 18 mile run in Hawaii had just 2600 feet of elevation change, when I ran up the mountain to my new office — three times as many miles, but a little over 1.5 times as much elevation change.

3W12 is pretty steep, it turns out.

But, I hope you’ll agree, it’s scenic and awesome. If mud and snow and puddles and steep trails work for you. They do for me. I love this stuff.

It would be snowy and muddy and steep. And then it would get snowier, and muddier, and steeper. I was plugging away as best I could, picking up one foot and putting it down again and again. The altitude and the thin air did make it hard as hell to hold anything close to a normal rhythm, so I’d slow down enough so that I could keep running without having to stop. When I did stop, it was to take photos.

I’d get to places like this, and look out over the lands. I’d try to spot where the other trails were, and see if I could figure out how to get there. When it’s a really long run, that’s great. When it’s just six miles, it’s dangerous — if I’m not careful, I’ll tell myself it’s OK to just go on to that next peak, that next hill, that next trail, and before I know it, I’m trying to figure out the absolutely shortest route back.

Coming back down was pretty slick and muddy. I don’t think these photos, especially this one, really capture just how steep this trail could be. Oh, I’m sure it’d be great fun on an ATV or quad-runner, but for running, it was high adventure trying to make it back down this without having a yardsale of me and my running gear all over the hillside.

Thursday, I went back out and found a different ATV / quad trail in the area (3W13), and knocked out my three miles for the day. Wonderful day, a bit cooler than the other days, but great running. Three miles, and over 1000 feet of elevation change.

But yes, I am tapering. This weekend, I am suppose to run 8, which I look forward to doing. I’ve been peeping at Google Earth, at where I’ve run and where else I can run in the area. 8 miles — that could be some good exploring!

I think I have done very well in not doing much on my two weeks of R&R. I sleep well, I am eating very well, I am soaking up time with my wife and the kids, and can’t really imagine this ending. It’s been a period of great rest and then more rest.

We have done a few things.

This past Saturday, we went to the 17th Annual British Car Show, held down in Waikiki near the zoo. The local British car club invites the Hawaiian Mini Motoring Club (of which I am a member), as they view the Mini — even the new ones, made by BMW in England — as being true British cars. Well, who am I to pass on a chance to go to a car show?

Naturally, I put my Germany badge on the front of the car. The kids and I had a great time of it all — from the pre-meet at the mall downtown, to the slow procession through downtown and Waikiki (honking and waving the whole way), to parking in the shade and swapping stories all morning.

And while there were some exotics there, this car below is the one that caught my eye. I could not stop staring. Lovely Austin-Healey — just lovely.

I also loved the wide range of MG’s that were there — quite a few of which were adamantly described as daily drivers (which has to be easier to do here in paradise).

I was surprised, though, to see a fleet of Cobras and even a GT40 roll in as part of this group. I had expected the MG’s and the AH’s, even the Jags and the Land Rovers and the Rolls’, but these ones caught my eye.

I had to go do some reading, to learn that yes, the GT40 was designed and built on UK soil. And the Cobras? Yeah, I’m a dumbass for forgetting that it’s an AC Cobra — which is most definitely British. Nice and loud, too. Great crew of owners, very nice people.

The other thing I’ve been doing while here is running. Well, running and shoe shopping, as I’ve purchased a new pair of running shoes, a new pair of Five Fingers, and now a new pair of combat boots (that feel like running shoes).

How much running? Try 45 miles. I’ve been doing 4 runs a week, using the Hal Higdon running formula (though not adding miles) — short runs on Tuesday & Thursday, medium run on Wednesday, and a long run on the weekend that about equals what I ran during the week. 45 miles seems like a lot, though.

Today, I had a wild hair and I ended up doing 10 miles. I pushed through the fields on a route I had scoped out via Google Earth. I’ve been trying to find a semi-legal way to get from my house, to Schofield Barracks where I will work post-Iraq. There’s a road that drives there, but it’s certainly not running friendly. That leaves the pineapple fields — which are all adorned with NO TRESPASSING signs. Leaving at 6 AM this morning, I moved with people going to work in the fields — all of whom waved and seemed OK with my being there, which is all I needed to keep going.

I had no intention of doing ten miles today, but the sun was low, the clouds blocking the sun very well, and I was on a roll. Here is a Google Earth file from today — I think this might be my new favorite route, though I do worry about the work area in the middle (I think it’s part of the Dharma Initiative).

Why am I running so much on R&R? I have no idea. Running & More Running. It feels great, though. Last week, I was still dealing with jet lag, so running early — between dawn and sunrise — was working out ideally. Now that I am sleeping well, I should — should — lay off the miles some. Maybe. We’ll see; I am very excited about finding this new route, and may need to go back there once more before I turn into a pumpkin.

Off from work, I headed out for a short run today. After loading my iPod and Garmin, I opted at the last minute to grab a camera as I headed out the door.

And I’m glad I did. I ended up taking close to a hundred photos over the 50 or so minutes it took to run the 5.25 miles.

Photos are on Flickr, here — only a couple of them are restricted to family / friends. I also fired up Google Earth and made a file about the run — and embedded links to some of the photos. That file is here.

In actuality, I like the Google Earth file better. I think it’s a neat, neat way to show photos and tell a story. For me, I run with my Garmin Forerunner 305, and then load the record of the run into my Mac. The Garmin software gets the data from the GPS, but then I use Trail Runner to convert it quickly to the Google Earth format. (Trail Runner is nice, but the repeated requests to donate ($35!) is annoying). After I’ve uploaded the photos to Flickr, I then go back into Google Earth and manually add in icons for the photos. In the comments section for each icon, I add <> and between those img src=”", with the URL for the actual image (not the page) from Flickr where I have the photos. Works like a charm.

The run was just a couple of minutes short of the length of the American Edit album I was listening to. Perfect timing. American Edit — fantastic album. I’ve got the 2008 version loaded these days (torrent), and I told iTunes to play it as a gapless album, which works ideally.

When I run, I really benefit form music with some energy. Lately, it’s been Feed the Animals by Girl Talk — which is awesome, but entirely not appropriate for kids. It, too, is best listened to in a gapless form, which you can get by downloading the whole album as a single track. I ran across Girl Talk when I saw the movie Good Copy Bad Copy, but it’s really in a style similar to stuff I already like — Go Home Productions, DJ Riko, Miss Frenchie, McSleazy, etc.

For a run that lasts an hour, I can deal with music. I’m not sure about you, but at some point, music isn’t enough. I think this is one of the reasons why I favor 6 or 7 mile runs — after that, I need something more. I need audio books after that. And that means longer runs more often, to get through the book — like two or three a week. And I’m not ready to go back to that level of running. I loved the time in Germany when was running the K?nigstuhl all the time. That was awesome. But you need something special to do that, that often. If I can find a way to run west, across the Kunia Highway, I could go back to that.

Without music, my mind wanders. Shoot, with music my mind wanders. Today I was listening to music and working through the hardware and software configuration options for a touch-screen music server for Iraq, while comparing a Windows solution to a Unix solution. Not planned — my mind just wandered there. Later I caught myself debating the merits of a strong court system in Iraq, vs. autonomy for the Kurds. I wonder what I could get accomplished if I could run and take notes / make sketches.

Two last comments about the run today.

1. There is nothing flat on this island. It was always up or down. Which can be great, and which can suck. Sometimes, at the same time.

2. This place is glorious. I could retire here, and spend every day watching just the clouds.

I’ll run when in Iraq — of that I have no doubt. I really, really doubt the scenery will compare.

I drive a 2006 Mini Cooper S. I am, in every sense, just your typical Mini owner, in that I am as fanatically obsessed with my Mini as the next guy or gal.

I love my Mini. I love driving my Mini. And I love my Mini adventures.

I’ve got a running list of adventures that I’ve had in my Mini. It looks something like this:

* Going full throttle on the autobahn
* Driving the Odenwald
* Sunday drives the Black Forest / Schwarzwald
* Driving the Black Forest from end to end
* Driving Poppa Bear Point
* Turning laps on the Nordschleife at the N?rburgring
* Minis in the Alps 2008

And this weekend, I added another one to that list.

I joined 8 others, mostly from the Tar Heel Mini Motoring Club, for a few days of driving through North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, and on into Tennessee. The trip was organized by my “brother from another mother”, Paul. He’s a veteran of five trips up to Deal’s Gap, and he organized a great weekend.

The coordination for the trip was ongoing, and it was online. Paul’s plan was to meet Friday night near Asheville, NC, have some dinner and a beer or ten, and stay at the Days Inn. Saturday, we’re make a wandering drive through the countryside, ending at the Dragon and staying at the Fontana Village Resort. Sunday, we’d have some breakfast, drive the Dragon again, and then head out separate ways in order to make it home at a decent hour — some folks had to work this morning.

Friday I popped smoke around noon and started the drive north. Dropping the address of the hotel into Tess’ GPS, she wanted me to head an hour east to Columbia SC and then north on interstate the rest of the way. Well, this was going to be a weekend about the drive, and that wouldn’t do at all. So, I had Tess re-plot a new route — the shortest one possible.

Much better. Much. The new route was almost entirely on 2 lane roads headed through the country side. I took a peak into Greenville, SC, as the only real detour from heading north, stopping to see the city some — no reason, other than it was there. Once I got north of the city, though, the low mountains started to come into sight, and I knew it was going to be a good weekend — the looked like the mountains around where we just were living in Germany.

I was the first to arrive, so i was able to relax and settle in some. We’d only be there the one night, so I kicked off my shoes and relaxed some. Just when I was starting get a little bit hungry, the convoy of 5 Minis from NC arrived.

We turned around and headed into Asheville, figuring we’d find some place to eat. Asheville is a nice, nice little city. I rode with Rudy and Paul, and the two of them told me the history of the founding of the city. Rudy had gone to college nearby, and Paul, having come up that way often enough to drive the Dragon and for work, is in love with the city. We didn’t have a chance to stop off and see the Biltmore Estate, which would be on my list of things to do if Tess were hanging around some more. We walked through the city some — on such a nice evening on a long weekend, everyone was out and about, and parking was limited — and ended up at Tupelo Honey, a nice restaurant with great food, great atmosphere, and great beer, and a wait that was probably less than an hour. I opted for chicken, vice the shrimp with grits that a few people had. Yes, I am not Southern.

(L to R: Frank, me, Paul, Mike, Van)

After dinner, we were teenagers — we stood around the back of a car in the parking lot, drinking beer from 5 liter kegs, using the ubiquitous red cups, and smoking (cigars, because we’re civilized). This weekend was advertised by Paul as being his Tour of Terror, and he was promising to show us a “spirited” drive. There had been much debate on what he meant by spirited — I was hoping it meant good German bier, and I was not disappointed. But other clearly wanted it to mean going fast, and it was that, too. Paul is fast — just look at this photo. He’s that fast.

Saturday was indeed about driving. Here is the actual route we took (it’s in Google Maps). We were assembled and on our way at 0800, in military precision. Eight Minis, 9 people, and not much extra stuff other than a cooler of beer. Paul had laid out this elaborate drive to get there, and I was not disappointed at all. It was fantastic. Easily, any one part of the drive to the Dragon would have been a good day, and we did it all. Without a doubt, my favorite stretch of the road was Wayah Road — it was fantastic. It’s marked in here, my Google Earth file for the trip.

Just driving Wayah Road would have made it a great day. We did so much more than that.

Lunch was at the Sweetwater BBQ, in Robbinsville NC — and the food was out of this world. Somehow I doubt I’ll find BBQ like that in Hawaii or Iraq.

After lunch, it was a good drive up to Highway 129 and Deal’s Gap, the Tail of the Dragon. And let me be clear — we were deep in motorcycle country. It was clear when we arrived at lunch, and there was no doubt, as we got closer to Deal’s Gap, that cars were the minority. I think they cut us some slack — eight Minis is a pretty cool sight. And, well, we drive like the dickens — that helps. We got up to Deal’s Gap, bought goodies and stickers and shirts and stuff, and then made a slow drive out the Tail of the Dragon for orientation and to check for police — who were out in numbers. We stopped at the dam at the far end, and took a group photo. I snuck in a photo of the 300Z guys who had gone before us and gone a little too fast (it’s a 30 mph zone), and they got to meet the TN fuzz.

The Dragon itself is 11 miles. It starts at Deal’s Gap, and goes out along a ridge and then on down to the water. It’s not a lot of changes in altitude, no massive climbs or descents. It’s all turns.

And by turns, I mean 318 of them. In 11 miles.

Is there any wonder why it’s motorcycle country?

The best part, as I see it, is that the route starts in NC and heads into TN, and there is nothing along those 11 miles. No driveways. No intersections. No stop signs. Nothing. Just turns. And since it starts in NC, and since there are very few places to even pull off the road, the only police are from TN, and if you don’t see any on the way out, there won’t be any on the way back in.

But we’d seen some on the way out, so we had a nice, tame drive back in. Once back at Deal’s Gap, we turned left and headed out Hellbender, the stretch of road to Fontana Village where we were staying. Nice, nice place, loaded to the gills with motorcyclists, of course. We dropped bags, changed, had a beer or three and then had some dinner. The Fontana Village is a very nice resort, and the rates were very, very good. And yes, there’s a military discount — always a good sign. There was no free ‘net access in the rooms, and we had drinking to do, so we only loaded and shared photos on thumbdrives, stood outside drinking and telling lies, before we called it a day and headed to bed at a decent hour.

One Mini driver had to head out early, so we were down to seven Minis. Five of us headed out around 7 am, to drive the Dragon and then meet the others for breakfast. The drive out was, um, spirited indeed, and the drive back was, um, terrorizing. On the way back in, I loaded Sara’s camera onto the camera mount in my car, and chaser her the whole way. I’ll link to the video when she posts it — it was awesome.

The driving. Let’s see. I have dynamic stability control on my car; if the front tires are going to break free, the DSC kicks in to get the car back under control (and a light goes off on my control panel). It’s front wheel drive, and those front wheels are getting about 190 horsepower — maybe a little bit more. The car is supercharged, and I’ve replaced the supercharger pulley with a smaller one (for more pressure and more horsepower). The car weighs nothing.

That warning light from the DSC? Yeah, I saw it — a lot. The front tires? Thoroughly abused. The brakes? Needed cooling off time from excessive use. I learned how to torque steer when the ass of the car broke contact with the ground and I’d tripped the DSC at the same time. Ponder that one for a minute.

There are a few photography shops that go out to the Dragon every day and post their photos online. I am waiting for them to do so — I am dying to see them! I’ll link to them later when they go up.

Most made one run on the Dragon Sunday morning, before we had breakfast and before they headed home. Paul and Rudy are known for going fast. I was known for liking pretty roads. They’re the terrorists, I’m the prettiest. Paul and Rudy and I made a second go of it — and it was the slowest, “prettiest” drive on the Dragon, ever. Nice, though. At the far end, we said our goodbyes, and headed our separate ways. Actually, I headed out while they let their brakes cool some more.

I headed for Helen, GA. Why Helen? It’s Bavaria, in Georgia. Really, it is. Spot on tourist reproduction. And there happen to be some amazing routes to get there. It was just me, one Mini driving solo, and I really, really enjoyed the drive. At felt at one with Tess again, and I’d missed that feeling. Once I got out of Helen, though, it was pretty mundane driving (in comparison to the rest of the weekend, I suppose), though it was mostly smaller roads. When it was all done, I was really, really tired. I was asleep by 2000 / 8 pm.

I’ve got two videos from the weekend. The first one is on Google Video and is on the drive getting to the Dragon. It’s filmed with my camera, but a borrowed mount that just didn’t see to want to work with me on finding an angle to see around the damn mirror. The second video is on my server, and it’s in an iPhone-friendly format, just for the cool kids. The second one is actually a good chunk of the Dragon, but I had no idea that that run was going to be soooooo sloooooooow. I ran out of disk space, it was so slow.

I’ve got photos up on my Flickr account, and Sara posted hers, here and SGT Pepper his. I suspect there will be more — like RudyT.

One last topic: How does it compare?

It’s not the N?rburgring. The Dragon is not built for speed. You’ll never hit even 4th gear on the Dragon, when you can wind it out past 100 or 120 mph on the Ring if you know what you’re doing (and are in a capable car). The Dragon is no racetrack, that’s for sure. The Dragon is all turns — which makes for an entirely different experience. But — both the N?rburgring and the Dragon are public roads; the only difference, I suppose, is that the N?rburgring has no speed limit. And it’s car country, without a doubt, while the Dragon isn’t.

It’s not the Alps. Holy crap, it’s not the Alps. Both have lots of turns, but the Dragon slinks along across the spine of a ridge. Lots of small turns. The Alps? Massive changes in altitude, and lots of switchbacks. Granted, the Dragon is 11 miles long, while we did 1100 miles through the Alps. But still. Even if you add in the miles getting to and from the Dragon, there’s no comparison. The area around the Dragon might, at best, qualify as foothills for the Alps. Foothills for the foothills of the Alps. Maybe.

It’s not the Black Forest. It’s close to the Odenwald (here and here). It could easily be Poppa Bear Point Run. The area absolutely reminds me of the area around Annweiler, out west of where I use to live in Baden-W?rttemberg. The Dragon would be an intense section of one of those drives. However — and there’s always one of those — there are a couple of differences. You wouldn’t see cops in the back woods in Germany, unless it was something unusual (I think I saw them once on Poppa Bear Point Run). Also, the roads in Germany were in better shape — this is more clearly shown if you include all of the miles I drove getting to and from the Dragon. Lastly, there are some great, great stretches I use to drive that were maybe wide enough for a car and a half, but were in fact two lane roads. Zippy fast, very smooth, very curvy — and very narrow, with the highest chance of an encounter with a tractor and not another car.

I’d do this weekend again, though — in a heartbeat. Great group. Great drive getting there, especially Saturday. The Dragon itself? Yeah, it’s OK. I got my sticker to put on the car later. But really, it was all of the other driving that made it awesome. I’d move to Wayah Road tomorrow if I could. I am glad that we had that one, um, aggressive run on Sunday morning, and I am dying to see Sara’s video of how I was driving. But really, it was great time spent in my beloved Tess Turbo, doing what we do best. I wish the kids had been with me, too — they’ve have gotten a kick out of it.

Oh, and as thanks for putting it all together, I bought Paul something pretty for his Mini. He’s a Dragon Slayer, and a Lady Killer.

Doug et al,

I did some tinkering yesterday with how I use my Garmin Forerunner 405 when driving. I think I found something would sharing.

1. I changed the setting on my Garmin, to have it record the location every second. The default has it computing when to record the location based on some (unknown) algorithm. Recording every second increases accuracy, but cuts battery life to 1/3 (not by 1/3 – to 1/3), from about 9 hours to about 3.

2. I brought along the charging adapter and a USB cable, and attached it to a cigarette adapter that has a USB port on it. That let the Garmin keep right on charging while in use, and off-set the accelerated battery consumption. Not an issue for short drives, as in under 3 hours, but really, in life, good drives take a hell of a lot longer than 3 hours.

I’ve attached a Google Earth file, here. It shows the difference in accuracy for the different recording methods for the Garmin Forerunner 305. Like night and day, as I see it.

I’m tinkering with this because I’m getting ready to go to the US and to be reunited with my Mini. Tess Turbo and I will be celebrating our reunion by driving from Baltimore to Ft. Leavenworth, and then on to Augusta, GA, a week later. That’s a lot of miles. And while in GA, I expect to be making some trips up to Deals Gap to run the Tail of the Dragon with other Minis. While I’d probably be OK with the less accurate, longer battery lasting default setting for the long haul drives, it’ll be nice to have really accurate recordings for the Dragon and other sporty drives. Battery life was always the issue; I think this solves that, and for not a lot of money.

You should be able to find USB adapters for your cigarette lighter at Radio Shack or at Amazon (an example is here).