BEST. GIFT. EVER.

The kids were unusually eager for Tina and I to open our gift from them on Christmas morning.  We had been given a few clues that they were working on something, but had no idea what it might be. 

At first glance, I thought they had found some old pictures on our computer, printed them off, and put them in a frame.  No, the effort was much greater. 

They had said they needed some time in the house alone.  Last Saturday was a possibility.  Tina asked them if Monday night would work.  No, they needed Saturday afternoon.

So what they actually did was to dress themselves up and take a bunch of pictures.  Katherine even went on-line to learn how to tie Asher's tie.  They dreamed up the poses.  We don't have a tri-pod (a problem I aim to remedy immediately), so they improvised using Asher's xylophone stand.

Once they had the pictures, they uploaded them onto the Walgreen's photo processing site.  And here lies the funniest part of the story. 

When they went to pick up the pictures, Walgreen's wouldn't turn them over.  They said there were copyright issues as the pictures were professionally done (nope - not making this up.)








Sarah told them she had taken them.  "These are professionally posed" Walgreen's said.  "What kind of camera did you use," they asked.  "I don't know," responded Sarah.  So after making her sign a release of some kind, removing Walgreen's of any hint of copyright infringement, they released the photos.

Once they found a frame, the rest was easy, I suppose.  They mounted the seven pictures they had had developed.  What you see here are the best of the 82 pictures they took that day.

While our kids have done well with gifts, this was by far the most thought out and cooperative effort put towards a gift our kids have ever managed to pull off.  It was, without question, the highlight of our Christmas.

The Adventures of the Superhero Formerly Known as HandyMan, Chapter 7

After the incident which inspired this blog entry occurred and I had posted it, I introduced the homeowner to my blog.  I don't typically do this, but since she was our neighbor and good friend, I thought she would enjoy it, which she did. 

While I was there last week (the week of August 26, 2013) looking at some other work she and her husband wanted done, she commented about my lack of blog entries since this one (there was one lonely entry between this one written on May 28 and today, September 5, 2013.)

A couple of days ago, Debra died suddenly from what may have been a pulmonary embolism.  She was about 60 years of age, and in good health.

Our whole family loved Debra and will miss her.  She loved to tell interesting stories, and I think she would appreciate the re-posting of this one in her honor.

The morning started out with a rain shower, so Stupendously Content Man rode down to Seaford to pick up some supplies for another job.  By the time he was finished, the rain had dissipated, so he headed to a job he was trying to finish up.  He only had a day or so left on this large project which involved metal roofing.  There were multiple roofs covering the house and its various additions.

Stupendously Content Man was very eager to finish up this job.  It meant that 1) he could get paid for the work and 2) he could check it off his to-do list, as the job had been drawn out, and he was eager to mark it completed.  So motivated by items one and two, Stupendously Content Man climbed the ladder which was leaned up on the side of a shed style roof.  He surveyed the surface.  It had stopped raining, but the roof was wet.  The pitch was only moderate, and could easily be walked on under dry conditions.  He was uncertain about how much the dampness would affect his footing, so he cautiously put one foot down.  It held without a problem.  He moved off the ladder and placed the other foot down, and found it to be holding firm.  Satisfied with his analysis of the situation, he started the ascent to the area where he needed to finish off the last couple of pieces of roofing.

The Perilous 8 foot drop.

At about the third step, it became apparent that Stupendously Content Man's analysis of the footing situation was, in fact, incorrect.  Suddenly he was on his butt, and his ascent quickly turned into descent down the metal roof and towards a perilous 8 foot drop to the ground.

The normal course of action in this situation would have been to whip out your cordless drill, place a screw into the hex bit, and screw one's shirt sleeve, pant cuff, or, in the absence of either, one's own hand into the surface of the roof.  Unfortunately, the drill was the first thing dropped, and was already mid-air between the edge of the roof and the ground.

So, with cat-like reflexes, as Stupendously Content man slid past the aforementioned ladder, he twisted his body so as to be able to grab the ladder which, due to the fortunate foresight of Stupendously Content Man, had been secured with two screws to prevent it from sliding away from its position.

At this point, Stupendously Content Man made the decision to return to the ground, and continued working on tasks which could be performed from the safety of a step ladder.  Upon his return home to his wife, he described the incident, and she replied "Did you put a dent in the roof?"

Sarah's Artwork

Near the end of the school year, Sarah came home with a folder of art she had worked on during the year.  She will be going into the 10th grade next year.

Eyes of classmates.

Portrait

Ballet Recital 2013

May 15, 2013.  The sixth year of dance recitals.  Not one moment of regret for any of it.

2013 Picture night

2013 Recital with grandma and mom

2013 Recital with Mrs. Randolph, their instructor.

2013 Recital

 Previous Years

2008 Recital

2009 Recital

2010 Recital

 

2012 Recital

2011 Recital

Elias and His Catapult

Every year, Mr. Cash's 6th grade science class does a catapult project.  Katherine and Sarah both did one.  This year it was Elias's turn.

Elias incorporated a sling into his project.  Here is some text directly out of the essay he had to write.  He named his catapult the "Power Winder".

"My catapult, a roman torsion catapult/onager, is a combination of two catapults. I chose the Power Winder’s design because when I researched different catapults and how they work I found most kinds of catapults have one or two things that set them apart from others and make them work better. The torsion bundle, or rope twisted to create torsion, classifies my catapult as an onager and provides the power and strength my catapult needed. The Power Winder uses the sling idea from traditional trebuchets instead of a spoon shaped depression to hold the projectile. The sling action provides the momentum and length along the arm to fire the projectile faster."

I helped him some with the cutting of the pieces and drilling of holes for the screws, and offered suggestions as needed.  The catapult project is something I have enjoyed working on with all of the kids.  We have already starting thinking about Asher's, which will be in two years.

The boys have already starting thinking about useful applications for this catapult, such as using it as a pitching machine and launching water balloons at turkey buzzards.

There are two strings for launching the projectile.  One is a safety device to hold the arm down while getting ready for the launch (that arm is under surprising tension).  The other string pulls a trigger releasing the arm.

Here's another view.

The Adventures of HandyMan, Chapter 6

HandyMan Changes His Name

The evening I wrote this out, a friend of mine was writing about difficulties his family was having in the adoption of a young girl.  That next morning, I realized I was writing this frivolity while he was writing about heartbreak.  Nevertheless, I've decided to go ahead and post this.

On the surface, this is a complete waste of space.  Below the surface, it is one way I battle the doldrums.  I'm not sure what makes me think anyone else would like to read it, except that one friend has told me he gets a kick out of it.  

If you do bother to read on, here are a few clues:  1) Sarcasm, 2) Bad theology, and 3) Sarcasm.

And one final note - The HandyMan series is based on actual, although not verbatim, conversations, which actually help with my state of mind.  Otherwise I wouldn't have them.




Handyman had sunk into the pit of self-analysis, again.   In a moment of weakness, he let his guard down and unintentionally divulged his state of mind to a friend.

HandyMan to Friend:  Do you have dreams, as in aspirations?

Friend: These days?  Not really.  But I am in survival mode and not able to look to the future much.

HM:  We need to learn to live our dreams while in survival mode.

Friend:  Lately, I'm content to complete the routine stuff.  The bar is much lower but I'm still not doing that well.

HM:  Perhaps the bar is different, but not lower.  Maybe dreams are for the unrealistic and irresponsible.

Friend:  I think your unfulfilled dreams weigh on you a lot.  I don't think they bother me as much.

HM:  Yea... I am so DONE with carrying that weight as of RIGHT NOW.  Survival mode all the way from now on.

Friend:  I think that is like trying to pull yourself up by your bootstraps.

HM:  I'm done thinking about.  The bootstraps are going to work.

Friend:  That's good to hear.  Tell me how it goes so I can do that when I'm in need.

HM:  You may have to remind me what you are talking about because I am so done with it I will have forgotten.  Please address me as "Mr. Content in All Things" from now on.

Friend:  Wow!  How do you stay so positive?

...Time passes... perhaps a full five minutes...

HM:  You won't believe the change I've had.  It's a miracle!  I LOVE my present, past, and future life.

Friend:  I'm impressed!  I could never be that content.

HM:  It's the new me.  "Impressive" is my new middle name.

Friend:  Amazing!

HM:  Gonna be hard to keep track of all my new names.  How about "Mr. Unbelievable" for short?

Friend:  Or "Mr. Incredible"?

HM:  Already taken.  "Stupendous Man", "Mr. OMG", or "Awesome Boy" all work.

...A day later, while working outside, in the rain, chilled to the bone...

HM:  Mr. Stupendously Content is thankful for the rain.

Friend:  Uh... me too?

HM:  Mr. Stupendously Content is going to have another ridiculously stupendous day.

Friend:  In the rain.

HM:  Amazing isn't it?  When will it end?

Friend:  I never realized the bootstrap thing would work!

...A day later...

HM:  Have I mentioned how lovely everything is lately?

Friend:  You will have to give me the code for lovely.  Does it equal "crappy"?

HM:  Stupendously Content Man has abandoned the lowest form of wit (sarcasm), and only speaks sincerely now like a good normal Christian.

Friend: I hate Stupendously Content Man.

HM:  Yes, as with all perfect people, he is irritating.  Can I change my superhero name from HandyMan?  "Stupendously Content Man" is so much more appropriate now.

And thus, the name stuck, and HandyMan, in a mighty tug of superhuman strength on his bootstraps, becomes  "Stupendously Content Man".

The Weirdest Thing

This morning I checked my email and saw that my blog has sent out an email about an entry I posted on November 28, 2012 regarding my marathon training.

Not sure why that happened.  My blog is only supposed to send out the latest entry.  So we shall see what happens next.  Perhaps my blog will start randomly sending out other posts.  If so, this will become irritating to us all, and I shall put it out of its misery with sledgehammer or something.

The Song

Here's the link to my article in the March Manna (click on "The Song"):

The Song

Elias and his Wire Bot

Elias, age 12, brought home his school Art Class folder.  Found this inside:

This is the description he wrote:

My robot is a bot that scares away the birds that perch on telephone wires. It has clamps to grip the wire and special wheels to help it stay balanced.  It has lots of tools to fix the wires if broken.  It has an extra eye and a powerful flashlight to use in the dark.  It has brushes to clean the wire and is light so it does not weigh down the wire.  It also has a magnet to get tools it drops and rocket boosters to get him up on the wire.  It has an umbrella for the rain.  It has water guns and horns for the birds.  It has clippers and a grappling hook to get branches off the wires.  It also has a chain saw and axe to clear away fallen trees.  It has a very strong robotic hand to hoist itself up and finally extra wire to fix broken ones.  I like my robot because it has so many different tools..  MADE BY ELIAS TIMMONS

I especially like the rocket booster touch.  Elias Timmons.  Look for him in Wikipedia in the future under "Creative Genius."

The Georgetown Little League Horse Crap Call Incident

Georgetown Little League had tryouts today, and I was reminded of an incident last year involving one of our boy's coaches.  That incident was the subject of a previous blog post, and since it was such a colorful event, a portion of it is reprinted here:

Coming into Little League two years ago, we heard all kinds of cautions, mostly pertaining to overly competitive coaches and parents.  We have experienced none of that.  Georgetown Little League has been an outstanding organization, staff and parents alike.

We did have one small incident, the details of which are listed below:

• A visiting umpire made a questionable call.
• Elias's Coach Jeff tried to question the call, the umpire refused to discuss it, and as he walked away, Jeff muttered the words "Well that's a horse crap call."
• The umpire immediately ejected Coach Jeff from the game.  It was his first ejection, ever.
• A parent got involved in the situation (normally calm and extremely pleasant), and probably without thinking, let the "F" word slip.  He too was ejected from the field by the umpire.  The parent protested that he had just cut the grass on the field, and couldn't be ejected.  The umpire did not think these extenuating circumstances merited any leniency, and the parent was ejected anyway.  When he hesitated to leave, the umpire threatened to cancel the whole game.
• Another parent rose from the stands and shouted "It's all about the kids.  Let them play ball!"
• Our coach and the parent then quietly left the field.  No yelling, no kicking of dirt onto the umpire's shoes, which was very disappointing, as I thought these things were part of the game of baseball.  Apparently not in Little League.
• The term "Horse Crap Call" became a joke for the rest of the season.  
• Elias was called out at first base on a subsequent night by this same umpire.  The ball clearly reached the base before he arrived and the umpire called him out, but the first baseman apparently bobbled and then dropped the ball.  Jeff was coaching first base and politely asked for a revision of the call, which was ignored.  He elected not to use the term "Horse Crap Call", and let the call go in the interest of good sportsmanship and the fact it was closing night.
• Later, Jeff said he thought I should have gone to bat for my son, and should have used the "Horse Crap Call" line myself.  

Thank you Georgetown Little League.  Thank you coaches.  And thank you boys.  From your perspective,  you are just playing a game.  From ours, you are enriching our lives.

Sarah's Digital Design Class

This is a project Sarah worked on for her digital design class.  There are programs that will turn a photo into artwork automatically.  This wasn't done with one of those programs.  She started with her photograph, then used Photoshop to manually color the picture.  The butterfly is a stock image.

Maverick Sprouts

I was doing some yard work at a property we manage (what better time than February to do landscaping), and decided to trim up some bushes which sit in the front and back of tenant signs.  The bushes are Dwarf English Boxwoods - great for this application because they grow so slowly.  We keep them trimmed in a round shape.

The bushes when we planted them.

 About the time I began to trim, the thought occurred to me that the branches that get cut off are the ones that stick out, which is obvious, as the whole point of trimming is to make the bush uniform.  These branches are the ones that, for some reason, broke away from the crowd.  The bushes required very little trimming, except for these maverick branches.  In order to produce the desired effect, these maverick branches had to go.

Now perhaps you are trying to get one step ahead of me and are beginning to think of pruning as mentioned in the Bible.  Don't.  This is not where I'm going.  The pruning mentioned in the Bible is a different idea, at least I think and hope so.

What I did think about was people who break away from the crowd.  These are people who grow off in a different direction.  They poke out in odd ways.  They do not conform to the general shape which the rest of the people have formed.

The temptation is to want to trim off those branches - those people - in order to give the group a uniform shape, for the good of the whole, I suppose, or for some common goal.

This can be a mistake.  Trimming bushes is o.k.  Trimming people isn't.  Yes, sometimes people need some guidance if they are too far outside the box, but care must be taken.

Since I was the one holding the shears (actually, it was a pair of tin snips, which was what I had available in my truck) you would think I would be looking at the little bushes from the perspective of the gardener.  But I actually got caught up in the perspective of the branch - the one that pops out from the crowd.  It may relish in the moment, in which case it will be fine.  Or it may wonder why it doesn't look like the rest of the bush, and debate in its little branch brain whether it should be more "ordinary".  This branch may need someone to say "It's o.k. to be out there... you are there for a good reason."

Immediately, some people came to mind.  I called one of them on the phone, and assured him that while he may feel like he is stuck out there, he is actually one of the healthiest branches on the whole bush. (In all honesty, I called him, but didn't communicate this as clearly as I would have liked.)

The random sprouts from this bush got trimmed regardless.  No one would understand if I left them to prove a point.

A Friend with No Distractions

Here's a link to my February Manna article which just came out on-line.

A Friend with No Distractions

More Than an Old House

The House in its original state.

My brother bought an older farm house in the early 1980s, a couple of years after getting married.  It was half a mile from where we grew up.  The house was cold and drafty, and needed a young couple to make it into a warm home.

The first job I recall on the house was an addition around 1990 that added a new kitchen and expanded the living room.  I was just starting out in construction, and followed the lead of an older, life-long carpenter for the bulk of the work. 

 In the subsequent years, other projects were completed, one at a time.  There was a window between two others on the second floor on the front of the house.  Bud didn't like the looks of it, so we covered it over while we were installing replacement windows throughout the rest of the house.  After that project, my younger brother Dean and I added a metal roof.  Later we replaced the floor of the front porch and added some new posts.

The Addition.

Then came a garage remodel.  There was an ugly as sin structure in the back yard that tried to pass as a garage.  We built a new roof over the entire thing, added another eight feet to the front, and covered most of it with metal siding.  It was a vast improvement.  A little shed was added on one end for the mowers.

The Ugly as Sin Poor Excuse for a Garage (in the back).

The day came when Bud and Aleisa decided to give the exterior of the house a facelift, and we installed new vinyl siding after removing the old aluminum.  While we were at it, we uncovered that window we had covered over, because Bud said they liked the looks of it after all.

The laundry room was also in need of a facelift.  It got new paneling, vinyl, and nice colonial colors.  The carpet that was installed when the addition was built became worn and was hard to keep clean.  They picked out some flooring, tore out the carpet, and I installed the new laminate.

New Garage in back, with grandson hamming it up.

At one point, about a year ago, Aleisa brought up some project they were discussing - perhaps it was a bath remodel.  I jokingly said "I think we should just bulldoze the old house down and start fresh.  It would be easier."

It was a dumb comment.   It implied that I was tired of working on the old farm house, which I wasn't.  But worse than that, it missed the whole point of what has been going on for the past 22 years.

Let's just say that 22 years ago, Bud and Aleisa had bought a brand new house, the exact house they wanted... with no further work necessary.  For the next 22 years, there would have been no remodeling.  There would have been no discussions about the projects, no solving of the world's problems with Aleisa as I worked, no coffee breaks and their accompanying conversation, and no satisfaction once the task was finished.  We would have missed all that stuff.  And it wasn't like that time would have been made up in casual visits.  We live 30 minutes apart, just far enough that it's out of the way to just drop in on each other.

It's yet another example of my losing sight of what is important when it comes to work.  My brother and sister-in-law bought an old house.  And I have had the privilege helping them to transform it into something more functional which they take pleasure in.  But of greater importance, I have had the privilege of sharing in their lives and of being in their presence.  They are, after all, my brother and sister.  It's what family is all about.  And not only that, it's what working, in general, is all about.

County Band

Well, this is a little unconventional, but I'm going to re-direct you to the Sussex Central High School Marching Band blog I've been working on.  There are two entries of interest.

Here's an entry concerning Sarah:  Junior County Band

And here's an entry concerning Katherine:  Senior County Band

The Thought that Counts

In response to a previous post (see "Race into the New Year"), my sister-in-law Marla sent me this gift for my birthday.

'69 Z/28 Model

This was to address the possible mid-life crisis issue I had mentioned in that post.  I believe the crisis has been averted.

Michael C. Ferguson Scholarship

Our Sarah just got some good news.  She received a $1,000 Ferguson Scholarship to be used towards her college education.  The awards are based on DCAS scores from last year (when Sarah was in the eighth grade). The following is straight out of the Sussex Central High School Web Site:

Fourteen Indian River School District students were awarded Ferguson Scholarships from the State of Delaware for exemplary performance on the 2012 Delaware Comprehensive Assessment System (DCAS).

Sixteen scholarships totaling $16,000 were awarded to district students who earned high scores on the reading and math portions of the DCAS. Each scholarship is worth $1,000 and can be used once the student begins post-secondary education.

Statewide, 299 scholarships were awarded to 279 students. There were 20 students who earned multiple scholarships.

The scholarship program is named in memory of Michael C. Ferguson, former Deputy Superintendent and Acting Superintendent of the Department of Public Instruction and former state budget director.

Sarah earned her scholarship for her performance on the math portion of the test.  The funny thing is, Sarah says she really doesn't like math that much.

Why We Like Facebook

I have available to me at least three mediums by which to write now, the latest being Facebook.  I've only been on Facebook for a few weeks.  But I'll say right now, I get it.  I get why Facebook is so popular, at least for people like me.

I use writing like I use conversation, but enjoy being able to craft thoughts into words much more slowly and deliberately than I can in conversation.  But even though something is written, it doesn't mean it is designed to be a one sided conversation.  Just like a verbal conversation, once in a while it's nice for someone to say "That's interesting"  (even if it isn't).  When you have a conversation with someone, that person sends you all kinds of clues as to whether you are making a connection.  When you write you don't often have that privilege.  Whether a connection has been made remains unknown.

Which leads to one medium I use to write.  This particular medium allows me to write on topics that may take some time to develop.  The words are chosen carefully to communicate some point that seems important.  But with this medium, there is no conversation.  There is simply me talking.  The other side is silent.  I have no idea if I'm yelling into the wind or not.  But it is the nature of this medium, and I live with it.

The second medium I use is blogging.  I get more feedback here, mostly from two individuals.  My mother and my wife's aunt tell me how much they enjoy it.  Of course, my mother doesn't have an unbiased bone in her body.  But like the first medium, the blogging goes largely unnoticed, making no great impact on anybody, and any connections remaining a great mystery.

Now is when I should start talking about how creative people do what they do because it's what they do.  There's no need for an audience, really, because the fulfillment comes in the doing of it.  Well, in the words of my son's baseball coach, that's a bunch of horse crap.

I'm sure there people who create in the absence of any feedback.  If you are one, then good for you.  Personally, I enjoy a little positive reinforcement once in a while, from someone other than my own mother. 

Of course, the absence of positive reinforcement in my case could actually mean that my writing doesn't deserve any reinforcement.  Maybe it doesn't actually add anything in the big scheme of things.  Well, that's a bunch of horse crap too.

I'm not alone in this sentiment.  It is a universal desire, I'm quite sure of it, with the exception of a curmudgeon uncle I know, who would probably say he doesn't need any god blessed positive reinforcement, because he already knows he's right, and doesn't really care if he isn't.  This is what I love about him.

And this, finally, leads us to Facebook.  Facebook has figured out that people love positive reinforcement and knowing they have connected with others, and has made it exceptionally easy to do.  In about a second, you can hit a "like" button and say to your friend "I like what you just posted."  It may be a small thing, but it is not insignificant to have your post "liked".  And if the friend feels really motivated, they may even comment on your post.  And then other people can like that post, and on and on.  Before you know it, everyone is happy and feeling connected.

So, since being on Facebook and experiencing this first hand, I will make Facebook observation #2:  We like Facebook because we all enjoy hearing "Hey, what you just said....I appreciate it... thanks."  And that's a good thing.

Being Fully Present

In an article by Gillian Marchenko in the magazine Thriving Family, Gillian talks about caring for her two daughters who have Down Syndrome.  While teaching one of them to cut circles out of Play-Doh, she considers the importance of this simple activity while at the same time pondering on the immensity of her task as a parent and the frustrations it presents.

Then she says that God reminded her to "Just concentrate on what you're doing right now."  She continues with the work with her daughter, and concludes "This is my task at hand, to spend time with Polly...To create enough space in my thoughts to be fully present and make contact with her heart."

Yea, that's exactly what I want to do with those around me.  Gillian had put words to a beautiful truth, one which can be applied almost daily.  But in addition to touching my heart, I thought to myself "Now that's how I want to write.  If I could pen a line like that occasionally, I'd be content."  Gillian had captured an idea that is an aspiration for most of us - to touch the hearts of those we encounter in our day to day existence.

And then the thought occurred to me that Gillian didn't create this line out of nothing.  It came out of her experience with her child.  She was just plugging along in a difficult situation in her life.  If not for that situation, her page would have remained blank.

I'm one who would like to avoid difficult and trying situations, as most of us do.  But apparently, in order to have good material from which to write, I must continue to get up every day, go to work, and walk through all kinds of situations.  I'll take it, but I'll have to be reminded over and over that it's all good.

Now is the Time

I once heard that when you experience something for the first time, your brain is aware of this fact, and therefore records a lot of information about the event.  For every subsequent event, your brain records less and less information, because it recognizes it has already recorded similar information, and the additional information is unnecessary.

This holds true for individual events, but I think it holds true for our youth in general.  We were experiencing life itself for the first time, and everything is a new experience, so there is a lot of hard drive space in our brains allocated to our youth. Not only that, but just as with a hard drive, this is the space our computer accesses first.

This explains a whole host of things, including why our youth is so precious to us.  It isn't just that life was simpler and without the concerns we have as adults.  It's that our minds were blank slates, and they were filled with new experiences which we can recall because they were recorded in detail.  Just the fact that those memories were recorded in such detail makes them precious, or in the case of some, a curse to be dealt with their whole lives.

A classic example of this is music.  I think this is the reason we a prone to get hooked on whatever type of music we listened to in our youth.  It is that music which has been recorded with the most intricacy in our minds.  Not only that, but it was recorded along with the other "firsts" in our lives.  Ask yourself this question.... isn't much of your most favorite and memorable music from your adolescence?  It is because you were experiencing not only the music for the first time, but also hormones for the first time.

So it is with this in mind that we watch our own children grow up.  Their minds are recording information at a furious rate.  As parents, we have a lot of influence on what that information is going to be.  My wife and I have children from the ages of 9 to 17.  Now is the time to keep this in mind.

Race into the New Year

Yesterday I ran the Race into the New Year 5k in Rehoboth Beach.  One of the few races I know of that goes right down the Rehoboth board walk.  Finished 35th out of 203 runners, 5th out of 9th in my age group. 


I am apparently in a tough age group (50-54).  Four out of nine are in the top 12% of the field?  What's that all about?  I have a theory... perhaps men at my age are all going through mid-life crises, and are pouring themselves into running to redeem themselves.

So the question, of course, is "Am I one of those men?"  Perhaps.  But why can't I be a man who is having a mid-life crisis and buys a new sports car?  I want a '69 Z-28, by the way.