IT WAS THE BEST OF TIMES, IT WAS...

As we wave goodbye to 2013, the words of Charles Dickens' "A Tale of Two Cities," applies to the roller coaster ride of the past twelve months.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."

At the Louisiana and Miami Marathons in January, both races I would highly recommend, I was privileged to deliver seminars, meet runners from around the world, and sign books. www.runningshortsbook.com

I ran the half marathon at both events, and my wife ran the 5K.

In March, we went to the Yuengling Shamrock Marathon in Virginia Beach, a race with a special meaning for us, as Dick Yuengling, the President of Yuengling Beer, America's Oldest Brewery, was my former Little League coach, and remains a personal friend today. My wife ran the 8K event, as did Mr. Yuengling's grandchildren. Dick's daughter, Jennifer, ran the half marathon, and we enjoyed the company of her family for the weekend. On Sunday, a Boston Marathon training run for me, turned into a 3:10 marathon effort on a flat, fast Shamrock course. This is a race everyone should run.

April 15, 2013 is a day I will never forget. It was a perfect day to run a marathon. For me, and many others, it began so well. The crowds at the Boston Marathon were more supportive than ever. The city of Boston opened its arms to its heroes: the Boston Marathon runners. I turned in a time of 3:04. My wife and I sat down for lunch, near Boylston Street, when evil struck. It was tragic, senseless, surreal.

The next weekend I delivered seminars at the Salt Lake City Marathon. Runners displayed a sense of shock and remarkable solidarity. A collective healing process began.

May 7 unleashed a personal hell for me. On a routine training run, I tripped, crashed to the ground in an odd manner, and tore two of three hamstring tendons. My racing year ended, and as I close 2013, I remain unsure of my running future, as the rehabilitation process remains agonizingly slow.

In the fall, my wife and I went to the Twin Cities Marathon, in Saint Paul, Minnesota, where I delivered seminars, and where we were treated to a healthy dose of Midwest hospitality. What a great event.

Finally, we went to the Atlantic City Marathon, and the Niagara Falls International Marathon. My wife ran the 5K at the three aforementioned races, earning a 3rd place award at Atlantic City.

The best of times and the worst of times were evident in 2013.

But I am truly blessed.

To all of you who have followed and read this blog: THANK YOU!!

To the many runners I have met at races all over the country this year: You are special, wonderful people. We share a passion for running, and we are, truly, all in this together.

For those of you who have purchased my book, you have my deepest appreciation. I hope you enjoyed it. My next book will be published in 2014.

In my book, I talk about family and friendships. Our running steps are taken alone, but our family and friends share them with us in a unique way. They are the ones who can help transform a runners' worst times into their best times.

For 2014 I wish you all the best of times.

Oontz, iPod Mini, Water

For my international readers, please be assured that I do speak (and sometimes write) in English. So, don't think the title of this blog is written in another language.

Santa Claus was good to me again this year. He, who is disguised as my wife, always makes sure that my clothing tastes reflect the current century, and not the Fabulous '80s. Santa also enjoys keeping me up to date with the latest technology.

So, in addition to a few sweaters, new shoes, jeans, and, of course, new running socks, this year's treasure trove of gifts included an iPod Mini, and an Oontz.

Seriously, I DO remember 8 Tracks and cassettes, and even vinyl records. Talk about a different language! Many of you may actually be forced to look up the aforementioned items. So, the iPod Mini is beyond fascinating to me. My first thought was, "Where's the rest of it?" It's only about one square inch. Well, needless to say, by Christmas evening it was loaded with my running "Power Play List."

Equally as fascinating to me was my gift of the Oontz. One simply synchs the device with the music source, and it serves as a portable sound machine. and, the sound quality is excellent.

Today, I enjoyed my music throughout my run, and when I returned home, I fired up the Oontz in my bathroom, as I prepared to take a soothing, hot shower.

But, thankfully, before I potentially infected my body, I went to my faucet for a glass of water.

The water was the color of rum!!! A water main break had occurred somewhere in the city.

Wait a second!

I can instantly communicate with someone in China.

A thousand songs are contained on a tiny, one inch device.

I can carry my Oontz anywhere.

My GPS and Siri talk to me.

But, as I write this, I can't take a shower!

Where's the "technology?"

Of course, I jest, but there is a lesson to be learned here.

We runners live in a fascinating era. We have more devices at our disposal than ever before.

But...

Our sport still comes down to putting one foot in front of the other and going as fast as we can for as long as we can.

So, enjoy the music, talk to Siri, and Google all you want, and always remember: Our sport is as simple as a glass of water.

GET HEALTHY-GET AMISH!

Several years ago, on my way home from a Penn State game, I was astonished by the sight of many young men driving bicycles, circa 1950 models, along the side of the road. It was Saturday evening, and I was driving near the town of Mifflinburg, located on Pennsylvania's Northern Tier. The boys were simply dressed, and many wore straw hats. It turns out that it was a Saturday night, "Date Night" for the Amish.

Most of the Amish, who migrated to Pennsylvania from Germany and Switzerland in the early 18th century, speak English, but more traditional members speak Pennsylvania Dutch, a German dialect. Amish must follow traditional church rules, which cover most aspects of day-to-day living, including prohibitions or limitations on the use of power-line electricity, telephones, and automobiles, as well as regulations on clothing. Most Amish do not buy commercial insurance or health insurance, and they do not collect social security.

In certain parts of Pennsylvania it is not uncommon to encounter Amish horse and buggies on a daily basis, or Amish bicycles on a Saturday night.

Recently, I read an article in the publication, LA Healthy Living, entitled, "Why the Amish Don't Get Sick: Things You Can Learn From Them."

Statistically, the Amish are much healthier than most Americans. They have virtually no cancer, no autism, and they rarely get sick. When they do, they promptly pay their hospital bills...in cash.

The article states that the Amish refuse vaccinations. Controversial studies link certain vaccinations to the spike in our autism rate.

Amish grow and preserve all their food. They farm organically, and consume a variety of antioxidant-rich fruits and vegetables. They raise their own animals and eat no processed foods. ADHD, food allergies, or asthma are almost non-existent in Amish society.

Despite a high fat diet, Amish have low obesity rates. America's obesity rate stands at around 31%. For the Amish, it is 3%. They eat plenty of butter, meat, and raw dairy foods. Their animals are grass fed, and steroid free. They have low rates of cardiovascular disease and osteoporosis.

Amish are not obese, because they do something many Americans do less and less of these days: They move their bodies on a daily basis! They don't drive cars or use any mechanical devices. They live like folks lived in frontier America. Men average about 18,000 steps a day; while women average about 14,000.Their lives are labor intensive. Quite simply: physical activity keeps the Amish physically fit.

The Amish live stress-free, non-competitive lives. They are not isolated, rather they possess a strong sense of community. We all know that stress, in our society, is a modern killer.

Few of us, including this writer, are willing to trade in our automobiles and our big screen televisions for a horse and buggy, but adopting some of the Amish practices could benefit all of us.

                                                      Amish Country-Doylesburg, PA

WHAT ARE YOU RUNNING FROM?

On Christmas night, a quick moving storm dropped an inch of snow on northeast Pennsylvania.

Sidewalks were covered, but streets were clear when I went for my mid-morning run.

But...

Do you ever notice, no matter where you live, how a snowfall, in any amount, brings out the crazy in people?

Normal drivers become 90-year olds, or some think the slick surfaces allow them to become NASCAR drivers. Neighbors fire up the Toyota-sized snow throwers before dawn, and those who are forced to shovel the snow the old fashioned way are often resentful when they see a runner happily pass as they are engaging in perhaps the first physical exercise in the past eleven months.

Throughout my 37-year running career, irate drivers and folks shoveling snow harbor a unique resentment towards runners. Check out my take on runner-haters in the chapter entitled, "Why Do They Hate Us So Much?," in my book, "Running Shorts: A Collection of Stories and Advice For Anyone Who Has Ever Laced Up a Pair of Running Shoes." www.runningshortsbook.com

Yesterday, however, a gentleman clearing his sidewalk looked me as I loped by and asked, "What are you running from?"

Normally, I would reply with something irreverent or sarcastic, but instead I shrugged my shoulders and pondered his question.

What ARE we running from?

Well, we are a minority, living in an obese nation. Americans are killing themselves by eating too much of the wrong stuff. Maybe we are running away from the obesity epidemic.

Ben Franklin once said that the only things we can be sure in life are death and taxes. Runners remain a few steps ahead of the Grim Reaper. He'll eventually get us, but he'll have to catch us first. Unfortunately, we can't run from the IRS.

Many folks these days are victims of stress. We have the advantage of running away from it. I have found running to be the greatest stress reliever imaginable.

We run from the ticks of the clock. They are our most formidable opponent. We strive to keep the numbers low. Oh, and we run from those just like us. Friends become adversaries when the gun sounds.

All of us are running either to or from our birthdays. Running is the only sport where we actually look forward to birthdays that end in 0 or 5, because those numbers signify a new age division.

Let's face it guys, women need running more than we do, simply because they DO more than we do. So, ladies, run away from needy kids and needy husbands. Run away from stresses we guys can't begin to comprehend. Run away, and come home refreshed and recharged.

We run from high blood pressure, diabetes, and heart disease. We run from depression and from the pressures of life in the 21st century.

Whatever you're running from or whatever you're running for, there are more reasons than there are snowflakes to keep running.

THE CROSSING

We runners complain about snow, ice and wind. Fortunately, today we are able to outfit ourselves with warm, moisture-wicking clothing and waterproof shells. Our workouts keep us out in the elements, sometimes as long as three hours, if we are in the middle of marathon training.

Well, sit back while I tell you a little Christmas tale that reduces our most difficult winter workout to a stroll in the park on a beautiful spring day.

The men didn't feast on turkey dinners. In fact, food of any kind was scarce. Smallpox, an infestation of lice, and rags instead of shoes were prevalent.

They had been on a steady retreat since August when their still inexperienced general was outflanked by the largest invasion force in the history of the world that came ashore like a tsunami. Putting another river between them and the enemy bought them more time. They were traitors. All of them. Soldiers, who were really a collection of farmers, tailors and bakers, could scurry back home if they wished. Their leaders, however, could be tried and executed for their treason. They would be hanged until they were near dead, their bowels cut out and lit afire, then their bodies drawn and quartered.

For many, their enlistments would run out in a week.

Their commander knew the soldiers, and the band of thirteen rebellious colonies needed a psychological victory.

So, the plantation owner from Virginia. The over six-foot tall giant of his time. Perhaps the greatest horseman of his time, who had all to lose and little to gain if this endeavor failed, made a bold decision. He would move over 900 men, horses and canon across the Delaware River, attack a Hessian garrison, the fiercest European fighters of the era, on Christmas night.

The mission was nearly an impossible one under any condition, but ice and freezing rain pelted the men as they floated down the river in flatboats, commanded by Colonel Glover of Marblehead, Massachusetts. Clothing was flimsy (no Goretex), and when the general was informed that the men's muskets were too wet to fire, he reportedly exclaimed, "Tell them to use their bayonets. I am resolved to take Trenton."

At 4:00 a.m., upon disembarking the boats, the troops marched nine miles, with temperatures in the twenties, reaching Trenton at dawn.

Hessians, feeling like many of us do the day after Christmas, decided to sleep in. They were awakened by American cannons, which fired grapeshot, a deadly cannonball that exploded into lethal "grapes." They surrendered in less than an hour. The Hessian commander, Colonel Johann Rall was mortally wounded.

General George Washington, the real deal, had pulled off the ultimate ruse. European soldiers of the day never fought in the winter. Instead, they retired to their "winter quarters." It's no wonder he earned the moniker, "George the Fox."

His bold move encouraged men to reenlist. The American Revolution was, for the time being, saved.

It was Christmas night, 1776, and the fighting would not end for another five years, but history will always remember Washington's crossing.

Just something to think about the next time we complain about winter weather. (or not getting your UPS parcel on time)

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

From my family to your family:

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

May the road always rise to meet you, and may each day be your personal best.

CHRISTMAS EVE, EVE

My wife received a terrific Christmas Eve, eve surprise today.

Back in October, she ran the Atlantic City Marathon 5K, in tropical storm conditions, on the Atlantic City boardwalk.

Today, as we opened Christmas cards and received last-minute gifts, ordered from online vendors, she received a box, containing her award, earned by placing 3rd in the 40-49 women's age division.

Unlike her husband, who began road racing during the Carter Administration, my wife, Christina, decided to begin running at the ripe old age of 40.

Although she always maintained a high level of physical fitness, running races never appealed to her.

Then, in July 2012, she entered a 5K race near Philadelphia.

As many of you can attest, there's something alluringly addictive about road racing, and she was hooked.

Since then, she's earned several awards, and she has run road races in seven different states, as well as in Niagara Falls, Canada.

There are many rewards, both tangible and intangible, in our sport.

A postal surprise on the eve of Christmas Eve, helped to make my wife Christmas a little brighter.

WHAT??

Two weeks ago, I stood in front of my seat at Lincoln Financial Field, in Philadelphia, as a blizzard raged, depositing six inches of snow on the field, qualifying as the most interesting NFL football game I've ever witnesses. The game was tremendous. The four-hour drive, that normally takes two hours, was not.

Last weekend, six more inches of snow fell on northeastern Pennsylvania, and, the icing on the snow cake was just that, a coating of ice, just to add to the treachery. Saturday's run was conducted at a snail's pace.

On Tuesday, another inch of snow coated the ground.

"We won't get out from under this snow until April," someone lamented to me this week.

Yesterday, on the first official day of winter, temperatures hit 50 degrees around here. I was happy to wear shorts for our annual Christmas training run.

When I woke up this morning, I was greeted to a Summer Wonderland!

The snow was gone.

At 10:00 a.m., as I met my friend, Eric Anchorstar for a 4-mile run, the temperature had reached 60 degrees. It topped out at 64 degrees later in the afternoon. It was delightful!

I power washed the deck, tucked away the snow plow (at least for a while), and did some of that outdoor stuff I wouldn't normally do until March.

But, to top it off, I went Christmas shopping...in shorts!!!

Hey, they have Christmas in July, so why not have July at Christmas.

I'm lovin' winter...so far!

HAPPY SOLSTICE TO ALL

At 11:11 a.m. today, Winter arrived.

More importantly, however, the Winter Solstice brings us to a seasonal corner at which we turn, and which brings us a smidgen of increased daylight, every day, for the next six months.

We celebrated Solstice Day by conducting our annual Christmas run. Last year, there were 20 of us. We ran our 3-mile course in 30 degree weather, amid piles of snow, leftover from a recent storm. Today, there was plenty of snow around, but temperatures hovered in the high 40s, and the sun shone brightly.

This year's Christmas run was decimated by illness and injury, so a mere five of us, all over the age of 50, participated. Conversations centered around our plethora of injuries, nostalgia about our "glory days," coaching, and, of course jabs at those who, for whatever reason, didn't show up for the annual traditional jaunt. After the run, we drank Yuengling beer, brewed one mile down the street, and PowerAde.

Now, it's time to get back to what most other folks are doing today: Christmas shopping, getting rid of some snow, and enjoying the Christmas vacation.

Here are some Winter Solstice facts for your enjoyment, courtesy of MSN.

An effigy in flames on the beach is part of the Burning the Clocks festival, Brighton’s centuries-old winter solstice tradition

When the sun rises over Stonehenge on the winter solstice, Druids, pagans and others who celebrate the winter solstice gather to watch the light align with the stones’ ancient arrangement.

Saint Lucia Day takes place annually around the time of winter solstice. Families in Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Finland, Bosnia and Croatia mark the day with candles and lingonberry branch crowns.

Northern China may have the most delicious winter solstice tradition: Celebrants observe the date with dumplings to ward off frostbite.

At dawn on the winter solstice, ancient Karnak Temple’s Nactenabo portal aligns directly with the light’s rays. The Karnek complex is among the world’s largest ancient religious sites.

Newgrange is an Irish tomb dating back to 3200 BC; each day at dawn, from December 19 to December 23, light hits a particular spot on the roof and dramatically lights up the tomb’s chamber.

So, wherever you are in the Northern Hemisphere, enjoy the Winter Solstice. Better and brighter days are on the way.

                                                             Winter Solstice in Alaska

NO MAS!

A few more inches of snow greeted us in eastern Pennsylvania this morning. Roads are slushy and narrow, darkness fell at 4:45 p.m., hidden patches of ice lurk beneath the snow. It's dark, dank, and dreary.

On Saturday, the main objective of the run was to remain vertical, as roads were snow-covered and slick: the result of a half foot of snow. Sunday, folks dug out, and roads were passable. On Monday, temperatures hovered in the '20s.

It's not even winter yet!!

Today, the elements beat me.

I caved in under the weight of the elements, and resolved to live to fight another day.

Tomorrow, I'll run again.

For now, I'll listen to Christmas music, open a bottle of red wine, kick back, and read the newspaper, delivered by my very special valet.

Be safe out there!

HOLIDAY MOTIVATION

Someone once told me, "Write about what you know."

So I did. And I do.

I have been a long distance runner for over 37 years, and I have been fortunate enough to run nearly 1,000 races, 57 marathons, and have remained relatively healthy, logging over 120,000 training miles. My favorite race on the planet is the Boston Marathon. It was there I ran my personal best time of 2:22:54, in 1983. I have run 16 Boston Marathons, and I devote a chapter to it in my book. This year, I crossed the finish line in a time of 3:04:21. As I celebrated at a nearby restaurant, after having taken my first gulp of Guinness, the concussion rang out. More about that in my next book, which I hope to publish in the spring of 2014.

The tragedy at the Boston Marathon created a solidarity between runners and those who support us that has been exemplified for over 100 years at the Boston Marathon.

My book, "Running Shorts: A Collection of Stories and Advice For Anyone Who Has Ever Laced Up a Pair of Running Shoes," www.runningshortsbook.com, celebrates the terrific sport we love. My 'Cast of Characters,' those who have shared my amazing journey on the roads, are described, and they, too, exemplify the true bond runners of all ages and abilities share.

Prior to 1972, runners were looked upon as strange creatures. The Running Boom changed all that. When you read my book, you will come away with true history of our sport.

By writing about what I know, I attempted to make my experiences your experiences.

Running through the seasons, irate drivers, snarling dogs and inconsiderate dog owners, favorite races, times of laughter and times of tears, along with some advice, based upon my experiences,

are all served up in my book, like a holiday turkey with all the trimmings.

If you like my blog, you'll love my book.

There's still plenty of time to fill the stocking of runner on your Christmas list.

Now, here's the good news. You can order my book from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or lulu.com. But...if you order the book from my website, www.runningshortsbook.com, it'll cost you ONLY $11.00. No postage. No shipping costs. AND...for the ladies, I have a few "Each day is my personal best" T-shirts left, size Small only, so I'll toss in a free shirt as well.

It's a great deal on a book every runner is sure to enjoy.

So, thanks for being one of the over 70,000 folks who have read my blog. I plan to keep the blogs coming, along with my next book in 2014.

Happy Holidays, and happy, safe running to all!

REMEMBERING 12-15-18

My dad would have been 95 years old today.

I think about him every day, but not with regret, rather with an appreciation of a life well lived, and with deep admiration of a colorful Irishman who loved his family above himself, and who lived a life rich in spirit, if not in wealth, for 88 years.

Born to a large Irish-Catholic family in the anthracite coal town of Frackville, Pennsylvania, he spent most of his youth in the nearby "patch" of Girardville. Small coal towns were often dubbed "patches," because most of their poor residents sported patches in order to cover the holes on their clothing.

He did some amateur boxing to earn a few bucks, and upon graduating from high school, he immediately enlisted in the Army Air Corps, serving most World War II in London, where he endured the German Blitzkrieg, rising to the rank of Master Sergeant.

He came home, married my mother (they were married for 62 years), and raised my brother and I.

My dad loved any kind of sport. He was a rabid Notre Dame fan, and, despite his short stature, would verbally challenge anyone who displayed disrespect toward the Fightin' Irish.

In high school and college, he enjoyed attending my running events, and he continued to do so when I began my road racing career.

Joe Muldowney Sr. possessed the Irish gift of gab. He could cause a monk to break his vow of silence. He was fiercely proud of his family, and would go to any length, and stretch the limits of embellishment, when bragging about its members.

In the late 1970s, as I suffered through a cold, snow covered Prevention Marathon, near Allentown, Pennsylvania, he froze at the finish line, informing anyone who stood in the range of his voice, that his son, the marathon runner, had suffered from a heart murmur. I imagine the crowd was surprised to see this physically impaired twenty-something runner cross the line vertically. My dad had conveniently omitted the fact that I outgrew my heart murmur at the age of three.

On another occasion, he volunteered to work a water stop at a local race. My training partner led the race, followed by another runner, who held a slim lead over me. My dad gladly trotted next to my friend, carefully handing him a full cup, but "forgot" to offer a cup of hydration to the second place runner. Of course, I had no problem receiving my cup of water.

I dedicated my book, "Running Shorts: A Collection of Stories and Advice For Anyone Who Has Ever Laced Up a Pair of Running Shoes," www.runningshortsbook.com, to him.

The picture below was taken near Columbus Circle, at the 1981 New York City Marathon. He stood in anticipation of my arrival, yelling, "Go Joey," as I passed.

As we approach the Holiday season, I hope you appreciate those loved ones, who, like my dad, support your running and racing. We are blessed with their love for a finite number of years, but memories of them will live forever.

GETTIN' UGLY EARLY!

I just returned from four "slow in the snow" miles.

Here in northeast Pennsylvania, we are in the middle of a storm that's predicted to dump 4 to 8 inches of the white stuff on us before the ordeal ends with a glazing of ice, just to make things interesting.

It isn't even the middle of December yet.  Winter is still a week away!

So far, in December, we have endured single-digit temperatures, an ice storm that produced my first fall of the season, along with stinging winds, and now this, the second pre-Christmas snow event. And, don't forget, the days keep getting shorter...for another week.

Now, I know I seem like a whiner, especially if you are a reader from Green Bay, Minneapolis, or Buffalo, but for those of you who live in warmer climates, let me tell you, winter is no Normal Rockwell painting.

Oh, I had fun today. I ignored my watch. My wife ran a couple of miles with me, the snow was pure white, and there were few cars on the roads. Who would be crazy enough to drive in these conditions?

Now I'm sipping green tea, looking out my deck window at the pine trees, with the fireplace blazing. All the living creatures in my house have a day of relaxation planned.

By the evening, shoveling and plowing will commence. Ice patches will form, creating treacherous footing. Wind will whip the snow into drifts, and cottony white stuff will be transformed into piles craggy, grey mush.

Today's idyllic run will be tomorrow's nightmare. Cranky snow shovelers will chant, "You should be doing this," as they dig out. My reply will remain the same as it has been for over three decades: "I already have. YOU should be doing THIS!" Snow piles will border every parked car, streets will narrow, icy patches will appear, and outdoor running will be challenging, to say the least.

But, for today, I'm going to kick back and enjoy the conditions.

However...

It's gotten ugly real early this year, and the worst is yet to come. January will be an ice box, and February is, statistically, our most snowy month. By April, we'll finally emerge of the wintry funk.

Now's the time not to get out of shape. Run slow and safe. Stay vertical and warm.

We've got a long way to go.

FILL THAT STOCKING

I hope you enjoy reading my blog as much as I enjoy writing it.

Since 1976 I have been a long distance runner. My over 120,000 miles on the roads could have taken me around the world over four times.

Back in 1983, I was fortunate enough to turn in a time of 2:22:54, at the Boston Marathon. This year, thirty years later, at age 59, I managed to record a time of 3:04:26 at the greatest marathon on the planet, the Boston Marathon.

If my experiences on the road, both good and bad, can entertain, or assist a fellow runner in his or her training, I am happy. It's part of the "Pay it forward" I spoke of in a recent blog.

My book is just that. "Running Shorts: A Collection of Stories and Advice for Anyone Who Has Ever Laced Up a Pair of Running Shoes," www.runningshortsbook.com is a book about lasting bond runners create between one and other. It is a book about the exhilaration and the frustration all of us, as runners, experience. I offer some advice. There are stories that will make you laugh and stories that will make you cry. It is light and entertaining, and is a perfect, inexpensive Christmas gift for the runner in your life.

But, of course I would say those things.

 One can purchase the book on my Running Shorts website, where I am running a Christmas special. From there, I can personally sign a book for you. It is also available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and from Lulu.com.

Following are reviews from purchasers of my book at Lulu.com:

By Mike Dicello

                                                        

Great Book! It is a must read if you are a longtime runner or just starting to run.

 

 

By Pamela McCutcheon

                                                       

I just read Running Shorts and loved it. There were actually parts that make you laugh and cry. I am not a runner myself but it is very interesting to learn about the training, the various races, and the amount of time and hard work it takes to be a long distance runner. I also enjoyed the history of the areas where the marathons and races took place. The book is inspirational and it really makes you want to go out and give running a try no matter what age you are. Definitely a good read.

 

 Pam McCutcheon

 

 

By Joe Schuster

                                                        

Humorous, poignant, a very enjoyable read for the competitive runner to the casual jogger.

 

By damon brossman

                                                        

This book was very inspiring to me as a runner. It has a humor to it but also has some parts that hit your soft side. It is packed with great information to assist with your training and it also motivates you to go out and purchase a new pair of running shoes and hit the road. I couldnt put the book down when I started reading, as I usually hate reading books. Looking forward to another running book from Joe Muldowney?!!

 

So, go to my "Running Shorts" site, use your Paypal, and I'll send a signed copy to you the very next day. Your cost is only $11.00. I'll pay the shipping. Oh, and I have a couple of Women's Small T-shirts left. Let me know if you want one and I'll throw in a T-shirt for free.

 

Happy Holidays to all!

 

 

THE SNOW BOWL

I didn't run a step this weekend.

But I still have some stories.

On Friday evening, through a torrential downpour, I ventured two hours south to the Ausherman farm, in Doylesburg, Pennsylvania, for another attempt to bag an elusive deer, on the first Saturday of Pennsylvania's deer hunting season. Armed with pizzas from a local vendor, the Pottsville Pizzeria, I joined ten other hunters, and we told stories and plotted strategies, consuming a few pints of Guinness along the way.

Our best strategies were foiled by the elusive whitetails. I turned into a popsicle as icy winds sliced through my perch, fifteen feet above the ground in a metal tree stand, tethered to a massive oak tree.

At dusk I was on the road, back home for a few hours, ready for my next weekend journey.

I have been a Philadelphia Eagles fan since I was a young boy in the 1960s. My grandfather, who went blind late in his life, used to listen to Eagles football games on his transistor radio, and I would join him.

As an adult, I have gone to countless games at Veterans Stadium, and now at Lincoln Financial Field. Whether it is for a race, a conference, a weekend in Old City with my wife, or a Phillies, Sixers, or Eagles game, I am drawn to the City of Brotherly Love, and make the 100-mile trek several times a year.

But, those Eagles. They evoke emotions in me that sometimes cause my family and dogs scurrying from the living room, during games in which they perform in less than a stellar manner. My stepson Jake, and I, with whom I could sit and discuss sports for hours, and who is a student at Saint Joseph's University in Philadelphia, cannot remain in the same room together twice a year. Jake suffers from a horrible addiction: the young man is a Dallas Cowboys fan!

I have rejoiced during Eagles playoff victories, and my heart is still in Jacksonville, torn to shreds from the Super Bowl loss of 2005. I was happy to be in attendance (I DID see Paul McCartney's halftime show), but was shattered by the defeat.

Through all my Eagles history, however, yesterday, in South Philadelphia, may have been my most memorable Eagles game.

The weather forecast called for "a period of snow, with a possible accumulation of 1 to 2 inches."

We arrived early, pulling into the parking lot at 9:15 a.m. I immediately prepared to "suit up." Years of running have prepared me to dress properly for any condition. Hunting boots, lined with 800 grams of thinsulate material, an Under Armour base layer, another thermal layer, a sweatshirt, and my puffy, waterproof Eagles jacket. Packets of hand and footwarmers lined my feet and hands. An Eagles wool cap topped my head. The temperature barely reached thirty degrees, and the damp feeling of moisture filled the air. The sky was dark and foreboding.

At noon, it began.

The snowflakes were large, the snow was very wet and heavy, and it fell like a squall. Friends Jim Mendini, Scott Thomas, and I were in the middle of a tailgate party hosted by Gabe Lehrman, and joined by Jay Wisnosky, a native of nearby Minersville, who had flown in from Michigan to attend the game. We drank 'boilo,' an ethnic beverage, made with cinnamon, orange peels, spices, caraway seeds, and whiskey. It is a sweet, tasty brew, possessing warming qualities on a cold day.

The snow fell rapidly as we entered the stadium at 12:30. This was turning out to be anything but a squall, and as we settled into our seats, (actually we 'arrived' at our seats. We didn't sit for the entire game) only the ten-yard and sideline stripes were visible on a field blanketed by at least an inch of snow.

For the first half, white out conditions prevailed, as a stiff wind blew the snow sideways. The eagles could do nothing. They were down at halftime, having earned only one first down.

There is a new coach and a new attitude on the Eagles squad. Gone is the rigid, "I invented the game" attitude of our previous head coach. The team made adjustments, and as the snow piled to a total of 8 inches on the field, the Eagles piled on the Lions. Nick Foles looked like a seasoned veteran, and Shady McCoy ran for over two hundred yards against one of the NFL's top defenses against the run. From our snow perch at the 20-yard line, we witnessed the Eagles four touchdown barrage during the fourth quarter.

It was snowy, miserable, and absolutely magnificent. Philadelphia fans are the most passionate fans on the planet, and as we marched to our cars, completely covered with snow, jubilation penetrated the snowy air.

The drive home was treacherous. A normal two-hour trip took five. By 9:00 p.m. I was reunited with my wife, and she and I watched "Homeland," one of our favorite shows, while our dogs lounged in front of the cozy fireplace.

Winter has arrived early.

It was quite a day.

'TIS THE SEASON...TO BE SAFE

Over the next few weeks, I will frequently wish many folks a happy and safe Holiday season.

To my running friends and readers of this blog, "safe" carries a deeper meaning during the coming months.

Road and visibility conditions deteriorate at this time of year, and with Holiday shopping and extra glasses of Holiday cheer, some drivers, who detest we runners to begin with, become even more dangerous. Check out the chapter in my book, "Running Shorts: A Collection of Stories and Advice for Anyone Who Has Ever Laced Up a Pair of Running Shoes," entitled, 'Why Do They Hate Us So Much?' for examples of road rage against runners. www.runningshortsbook.com.

That being said, it is up to runners and walkers to conduct their activities on the roads with a sense of responsibility. If they do so, using some common sense, they can decrease their chance of dangerous encounters with motor vehicles, which weigh more and travel at much faster speeds than we.

The winter solstice occurs on December 21 this year. Until then, we continue to lose precious minutes of daylight. Avid runners have a limited amount of daylight, so many are forced to conduct their workouts during the pre-dawn hours, near dusk, or at night. It is absolutely essential for runners to make sure they are visible during these low-visibility hours. Wear as much reflective gear as possible. Most athletic apparel manufacturers offer outerwear with reflective strips. Many running shoes also display reflective patches somewhere on their products. There are glow bands that can be worn on the arms and legs. Some can be set to flash on and off in order to attract additional attention. Some runners have even purchased headlamps. Often, during winter months, we are forced to run more miles on the sidewalks, which can be quite dangerous if one cannot see what is covering them.

Winter weather conditions send many runners scurrying indoors to the treadmill, but most still prefer running outdoors. Safety is again a factor that cannot be ignored. Few running shoes are equipped to handle icy roads and sidewalks, so runners can now purchase running crampons, actual metal spikes that can be wrapped onto your shoe with a rubberized “sleeve.” They are expensive, and may only be used a couple of times a year, but considering the potential consequences, may be worth the price.
Take the road less traveled, or hit the trails whenever possible. By avoiding high traffic areas, you can significantly reduce the chance of encountering automobiles and their sometimes less than friendly drivers.

In addition to the above recommendations, let’s take another approach to winter training.
Since your hours of daylight are limited, concentrate on shorter, faster workouts during the week. Save the long runs for weekends.

Chances are you have run many races throughout the year, and perhaps are recovering from a fall marathon. Use the next month to relax and to heal. A day off here or there won’t hurt you. Build back slowly into regular training, and you will be stronger and healthier for your spring races.
Don’t worry so much about your watch. On most days, be content with completing a workout when others have decided to stay in bed. Enjoy the winter scenery; while appreciating and preparing for winter’s dangers.

Be cautious and careful when you run on the roads this winter and you will, indeed, have a happy and safe Holiday season.