A World Without Ends

I have great news!  I'm alive!

Final time for my marathon run: 4:29:04.  I was extremely excited to know I made it under four and a half hours.  The whole time I was running that's what I was thinking: I really want to get under four and half.

All in all, great experience.  I was REALLY starting to feel it around mile 24, but by then you're all in.  Nothing left to do but move forward and hope that your limp body doesn't fall to the pavement before you cross the finish line.  And if it does, hope that its at a point where the momentum of your tumbling carries you over the line.  What a great photo finish that would be.

Most would say that I'm a glutton for punishment, but I truly enjoyed myself, and not just because I accomplished a life goal.  The support of friends and family I had backing me, that ridiculous poster my friend Phil made for the event, and all the other inspiring/ridiculous posters people had made for runners all made the experience unforgettable.  A few of my favorite signs/posters:

"Worst parade ever."

"There will come a day when you can no longer do this.  Today is not that day."

"Because 26.3 miles would just be CRAZY."

"I'm lazy."

And a few others which I've forgotten in the foggy haze of my post adrenal mind.  But the one in the photo above was the one I was looking for, because it meant, "Hey, there's some blue Gatorade and a Cliff bar up ahead."

The question is, "Now what?"  I'm done.  Months of training, treating my body as well as I could, and following through with my mad dream to the end has paid off.  The race is over.  Mom suggested Boston Marathon.  The qualifying time is three hours and ten minutes.  I have to beat my time by an hour and nineteen minutes.  I don't think that'll be happening anytime soon.

I will admit, this has given me more of a vigor for life,  not wanting to be complacent but to push the limits as far as they can go, no matter what I do.  Two years ago, had you told me I was to finish a marathon, I would've laughed.  Or maybe I would've have believed you, yet still been shocked.  Until a couple years ago, a little over two miles on the tredmill was all I could do before I became winded.  That was my limit, until I created new limits.   So, a limit isn't really a limit at all in some circumstances.  A limit tells you what you can do right now.  But it stands there, waiting for you to push past it, and when you do it has to catch up in order to stop you again.  And again.  And again.

So seriously, not trying to be a motivational poster in the 90's, but you really can do whatever you want.  You simply have to be willing to work.  You can't expect it to just happen.  It took a year and a half to go from two miles to 26.2 miles.  It was tough.  There were bad days that involved the walk of shame to finish.  Then there were days where I felt like I could run through brick walls and keep going.  There is no end.  You make your own ends.

Most things are mental anyway.  We think it's impossible.  Running a marathon sounds hard, I agree.  Truly, its one of the easiest things.  You put one foot in front of the other.  That's it.  You don't have to do anything else.  You don't have to play an intricate line on the piano.  You don't have to solve a difficult physics equation.  You don't have to perform brain surgeory.  You just have to put one foot in front of the other.  Pain, discomfort, that's all mental.  You can over come that, unless your leg actually snaps in two.  But if you keep running, I'd really really respect you.  That's hardcore.

In other news, my mother tells me my Aunt Pegge has sent me a typewriter owned by my great-grandfather, Silas Clark.  Really excited about that.  So, for any of your who legitamately planned to send me a typewriter and looked through all the local antique malls, I'm grateful but the need is no longer present.  You can go back about your business.  I'll ask for something later though.

That's all I have.  Glad we had this little pep talk.  Take care.  Push those limits.

Peace.

Quick Catch-up in My Pajama-jams

Tuesday mornings are pretty slow here at "Revenge of the Living Blog".  And that's why I'm posting.

I spoke to some other people, researched the data, and turns out that owning an Audrey Hepburn fleece blanket would be far too weird even for me.  I should understand that she is no longer with us, and no amount of memorabilia will ever bring her soul back into existence.

Also fellow blog viewers (I do believe you know who you are), I have yet to find a typewriter packaged and addressed to me sitting on my doorstep.  I thought that talking endlessly about it would somehow guilt trip someone into shipping me an old busted typewriter (it must still work though, or else I'm sending it back).  Apparently my sly attempt at getting something free wasn't very sly at all and goes to show that none of you are loyal fans.  Now go read a blog about mexican food or the Obama adminstration.  I'm obviously not topical enough to peak your interest, or subconsciously manipulate you into buying things for me. 

The new job is going very well, although  I've noticed some rather strange things about the building, such as the doors of two of the four stalls in the men's bathroom on the sixth floor remain perpetually closed (clearly transportation units to the Ministry of Magic)  and a few times while riding the elevator, the elevator doors will open on a floor between the sixth and the first and no one is there to board the elevator.  Yesterday the doors opened on the fifth floor.  There were only a few lights and a very dark hallway straight ahead.  Oh, and some sort of large blue recylcing bin.  But there was absolutely no people.  So the doors stood open for a very long time, then slowly shut, and I continued my journey down to the ground floor.  What I'm hitting at here is that, the building is clearly haunted (and a medium for Wizards and Witches to travel).

...

Sorry, I completely zoned out there and watched four youtube videos.  It's like college all over again.

That's all I have today.  Please, feel free to send questions, comments, and concerns (and typewriters) to canyon.behind.her@gmail.com.  I might get to them (Unless it's the typewriter.  I'll immediately get to that.  But you'll need to ask for my address first).

Have a good Tuesday.

Summa Time

Well, I'm back from an incredibly busy summer.  Busy, busy, busy.  Nothing but things to do, people to see, and universes to save.  I'm wiped out.

All right.  That first part was a lie.  I've done (for the most part) nothing.  Things I've done this summer:

1.) Finished the Harry Potter books
2.) Worked
3.) Started a bit of an internship at a Christian publishing office (unpaid)
4.) Saw Incubus live (finally)
5.) Went on a float trip down the drunken river of destruction (Yes, that is an exaggeration.  But did you know that there are more drunk people in southern Missouri than sober people?  It's insane.)

That's about it for the high points.  Pretty slow summer (first in awhile).  Now the weather is finally beginning to settle down so that autum can be given a proper welcome.  We do welcome you autum.  You're very beautiful and we wish nothing for the best while you're here, but I can't help but think about winter slowly walking behind you, brining the cold and plans to wipe out what beauty you've dressed the world with.  These days are in fact getting shorter as well.  Too soon, I say.  2011, you've hardly had time to really sit and speak.  You've been pacing the room, looking at your watch, and kicking back drinks, anticipating only to leave us.  You were rather quiet.  I hope only to make small talk before it's time for you to leave.  Create a couple memories.  Take a photograph.  Post it on Facebook.  If you'll only grant us that much.

Just to keep my loyal fans in the know,  I've been thinking of making another blog.  One with a bit more "focus".  This is just a scatterbrained mess that I keep around to help prevent writer atrophy (has it helped?).  I've thought about a blog of mini-stories (shorter than short stories) or a blog based around tea, or some other thing I'm obsessed with (Time Travel, Audrey Hepburn, etc. etc.).  So if there is ever a day when this blog "vanishes" or mutates into some altogether different, you'll know the reason.  But until I buckle down and decide what to do, you can read this to your leisure.  And I'll continue to write throw away material every couple of months.

Recently I've been considering buying a typewriter.  My mom used to have one that I used in my amatuer writing days.  Ah, fine days those were.  I started out as a horror writer.  You know, Steven King stuff.  I was only about 9 at the time, but I wrote some really creepy stuff.  Short, disturbing stories with titles like, "The Poltergeist" and "The Gremlins".  Then about seventh grade I moved to sci-fi.  I began a novel called "Sight From the Eagle's Eye".  Wrote it at night during the summer of 2000 by hand on sheets of notebook paper.  I got to about chapter four and then quit.  It's lost foever now.

Tangent.

Anyway, my point being, I want a typewriter and I want it to be rather small.  Travel sized if possible.  Something Kerouac or Ginsberg would have toted around.   So, just donate to my typewriter fund, or send me the old typewriter and I'll get started on my sci-fi time travel epic, "The Universe Is Ordinary".  You'll get an advanced copy for your troubles, and by advanced copy I mean that you'll recieve a copy of the original manuscript when it reaches completion.  Also, I'll sign it.  And you can also come with me on my five city midwest tour, and if you're really qualified and trustworthy, you can be my agent.  Yes, the agent to "Mike Lee the Extraordinary".  Think about it.  We'll grab lunch, hang out.  Become best friends.

That's all.  Nothing more.  It's 2:22pm CST.  I'm still in my pajama-jams, listening to that song from The Matrix when Morpheus and Neo are walking down the street during the agent training program.  Life is considerably simple and boring (Which is why I need you to invest in me and become my trusted agent).  And to answer your question: Harper Collins is a fine for publishing my book.  I'm okay with that. 

Hope everyone had a great summer, a fantastic labor day.  Enjoy your week (call me).