An Out of this World Experience

For me travelling for work is an opportunity to experience something new. I am fortunate enough to have the flexibility to duck out of meetings and see some pretty cool stuff. Last Friday, I got to do some sightseeing for work. I was in Houston for a board meeting and my boss, a former NASA astronuat, was able to arrange a VIP tour of Johnson Space Center (JSC) which was still a buzz after an incident the day before.

Since I was a little boy, I remember watching Star Trek: The Next Generation dreaming of "boldly going where no man has gone before." Unfortunately my time at JSC was limited to looking at life size mock ups of space vehicles and seeing mission control but it still brought me back to being a little boy venturing through space.

During out tour we saw where the astronuats train. They actually build full size mock ups of the space vehicles they will use once in space, complete with their own bathroom,

The shuttle program is stopping at the end of this decade and being replace by new space vehicles. These vehicles will be used to go back to the moon and to and from the space station:

Our next stop was the orignial mission control which was home to two major events in the space program, "Houston, we have a problem" and "That is one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." You would imagine that mission control would be high tech, well it was for its day and age in the 60s and 70s. Here is an up close look of a console.

Before we left, I sat in the flight director's chair. For a few brief seconds I imagined the power of the position and the leadership this person has had in many crisis situations. The picture below is a scary thought isn't it?

Our final stop was the current mission control which observes the operations of the International Space station which is a lot more high tech than the old control room.

The International Space Station is fascinating. I can only imagine what it would be like to look out the window of your home and see the Earth rotating around and around.

One day soon, maybe each of us will get to experience this.

Half Marathon Diary

For the past few years I have had the idea of running the Chicago Marathon. Since I spend so much time in Utah during the summer, with an elevation of 9,000 feet, I felt this was perfect for training. For one reason or another, I have failed in my quest, whether it be an injury or laziness. This year, I decided I would start a little smaller and try and run the St. Louis Half Marathon. I figured that since this was early in the year, April, that if I did well I would consider running the Chicago Marathon. What better way to capture the half-marathon than a diary of my thoughts before, during and after the event.

Sunday April 15

3:15 a.m. I wake up in a sweat frantically searching for my phone which is doubling as an alarm. I am worried that I have slept throught the half-marathon. This paranoia was triggered by my viewing the Seinfeld episode last week where Jerry is hosting the marathon runner who overslept for the previous year's New York City marathon. I could just see this happening to me. I check my alarm on my phone just to make sure it is set. I stay awake for a few minutes and then drift back to sleep.

5:00 a.m. My alarm goes off just as planned and I go into my buddy's spare room so as not to wake anyone. I eat a banana, a granola bar, drink half a gatorade, stretch and read a magazine. I want to be up and ready.

6:15 a.m. My friend Nick drives me to the race. He leaves me with a good luck and don't get hurt and goes back to his apartment to sleep. I search for safety pins for my number and then the bag drop.

6:35 a.m. After waiting 20 minutes, my bag is finally secure and I move towards the course. My goal is to finish under two hours, so I set myself up where the pace runner is holding a sign that says 2 hours. My wardrobe for the day is a long sleeve t-shirt, an undershirt, and a pair of orange Illinois shorts - I need to have some style.

6:45 a.m. I begin to shiver.

6:55 a.m. I lose the feeling in my fingers.

6:58 a.m. I am envious of everyone with a fleece on.

7:00 a.m. The gun sounds signifying the beginning of the race.

7:09 a.m. I finally cross the starting line and in the background Rythym Is A Dancer by Snap blares in the background. Not my choice of music to "get me pumped up" to run 13.1 miles. I would have chosen something like Def Leppard "Do You want to Get Rocked" or AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" but Rythym Is A Dancer It Is.

7:11 a.m. As I pass the post office their is a band dressed in full army fatigues. Correction, there are army members playing musical instruments. This time it is Krypotine by Three Doors Down...can the music get any worse?

7:14 a.m. A few weeks ago I was at the New Balance store here in Chicago picking up a new pair of running shoes. Here is the interchange:

NB Sales Guy: Sizing Me Up "So..um, do you run in races?"

Me: "Well actually I am thinkning of running in the St. Louis Half Marathon in a few weeks."

NB Sales Guy: Convinced that I am not much of a runner "Well, that is a pretty hilly course."

Me: What is this guy talking about, I don't remember hills in St. Louis. "Oh really, that will be interesting."

Well, I am giving a shout out to the New Balance guy because it is at this time that I encountered hill #1. I am used to running on level ground here in Chicago. I curse the hill and then remember that which goes up, must come down. I enjoy the run down the hill.

7:18 a.m. I start to get a cramp in my right side, could it be the banana or granola bar from the morning I doubt it but I am placing blame on a little bundle of joy called a bratzel that I enjoyed at the Cardinals game the night before.

















That is right, a brat wrapped in a pretzel. Yesterday it tasted so good, today it hurts so bad.

7:23 a.m. We pass the Eat Rite. I sure could go for a slinger right now.

7:30 a.m. I can't feel my palms now. That doesn't seem good does it?

7:34 a.m. We head towards the Anheuser Busch Brewery to the sound of bagpipes. Is this what happens to every man who enters heaven? The bagpipes play as he enters the eternal bar.

7:35 a.m. Maybe it isn't the eternal bar but purgatory. After we enter the brewery we proceed up a hill that must last a half mile. This is painful

7:45 a.m. Mile marker 4. I am not sure what time I started but am convinced that I am running right around 9 minute miles. I need to keep up this pace to make my goal. As I pass the mile marker, I start to get a sharp pain on the inside of my right knee. This is going to be a fun 9 miles.

7:49 a.m. I can now feel my fingers but not my palms.

7:52 a.m. Another hill, curse these hills...

7:56 a.m. As we head back to the starting area I think about the army band. They better make up for that horrible song heard earlier. Wait a second, I can hear something, it sounds like, yes, yes, it is Sweet Home Alabama by Lynyrd Skynyrd. These soldiers are ok in my book.

8:01 a.m. As we pass mile marker 6 a pain shoots through my left knee and I have lost feeling in my fingers again.

8:08 a.m. I pass the 6.5 mile marker, this is halfway and I figure it has been right around 1 hour, I am going to need to race a little smarter to ensure that I make this 2 hour goal. I head to the right side of the course because our next turn is a right and plot ways to make up seconds.

8:20 a.m. Right around 8 miles I begin to worry what will happen to me at mile 9? It seems that every few mile, I suffer a new ailment. Maybe I will get the feeling back in my fingers.

8:24 a.m. We head down a giant hill which I finally determine is an on ramp to the expressway. Is this a good idea?

8:26 a.m. Okay we went downhill without going up hill, shoot here we go back up hill again. *&$@ hills.

8:30 a.m. Another band is playing, I have low standards for the music of this event but maybe this group will surprise me. I start to make out the lyrics. It is a "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" by Queen. You have got to be kidding me.

8:32 a.m. Mile 9 a pain shoots from my back down my left leg. That can be good can it?

8:36 a.m. We make the turn to head back in the direction of downtown and the city. As we turn I notice a chinese restaurant called Hon's Wok and right next to it is a Cat Clinic. Insert joke here.

8:40 a.m. Okay it is time for this band to redeem themselves. What do they have now? It is "Great Balls of Fire" by Jerry Lee Lewis. I guess this works.

8:45 a.m. I run past Saint Louis University my alma mater and the course takes us right past the Fraternity house that I was a member of. I notice that there is a car parked in front of the house. I then realize it is the only car parked on the street. I guess the guys didn't get the memo about not parking on the street. Later I find out from a friend that there were guys handing out beers to runners by the house. The inner frat guy in me is smiling!

8:54 a.m. A race official is yelling: "Keep going, it is all downhill from here." Whew, what a relief, I speed up a little hoping to make up some time.

9:00 a.m. I am so pissed at the race official, here is another hill that I have to navigate. That was just plain cruel.

9:06 a.m. Here is the final stretch, I begin to sprint. Things are looking good for a 2 hour fininsh.

9:07 a.m. I cross the finish line. I think I broke two hours but I will have to wait for an official result.

9:15 a.m. After grabbigng some water and a gatorade, I see a former fraternity brother and co-worker. After catching up we immediately head for the Michelob Ultra tent. I grab an extra beer for the wait at the bag check

9:40 a.m. I head over to the bag check to get my bag.

9:55 a.m. I am still waiting and I have finished the beer.

10:10 a.m. Still waiting...

10:25 a.m. Still in line, beginning to get frustrated that I have no bag or beer.

10:30 a.m. Chaos begins to ensue as race officials decide to begin to pull out bags and call out numbers and hope that someone will respond and claim the bag. This is not a good idea and I fear for the ensuing riot.

10:35 a.m. I see a friend who just got her bag. She grabs a beer and brings me one as well. Ah, I am happy now.

10:40 a.m. Beer is done and still no bag. Chaos continues.

10:45 a.m. Through a stroke of luck I get my bag.

My buddy Nick comes and picks me up and at his place I check out my race time, 1:58:03, got my goal. For those of you scoring at home that is 1:58:03 to run 13.1 miles and 1:05 to get my bag.

After this experience I have a new respect for those folks that run a marathon. It is a long hard journey but is the ultimate test of man against himself. Will I try the Chicago marathon? We will have to wait and see.

Grandpa Gone Wild

No ladies this is not an advertisement for sophisticated, good-looking older gentlemen who decide to spend their spring breaks with young college coeds but this is the nickname that my sister has given for our family trip to Washington D.C. to celebrate my father’s 60th birthday.

About a year ago, my mom decided that we should all come together and take a trip to celebrate my father's 60th birthday. So my two sisters, their husbands, and my 4 nieces and 2 nephews are headed to Washington D.C. for a weekend of "Grandpa Gone Wild."

My family is not very wild but it will be an interesting adventure in our nation's capital. It even includes a "Grandpa Gone Wild" t-shirt with the Manshio family symbol on it.