A stunning rainbow appeared this morning while I was swimming. It stretched across the pond behind our home with the pot of gold just down the street. Naturally, I didn’t have my phone to take a picture, although Tally witnessed it too. It was a welcome sight after sloshing through puddles in a pouring rain. It was a run that didn’t apparently happen, just like the rainbow that has now disappeared. The rain played havoc with my electronics and the run was not recorded, while the voice that guides me was silent. The music did play on although it got stuck on Dave Matthews’ Gravedigger. “I’m Getting Closer to my Home” tried to play but skipped forward like it was interrupted on a turntable. It’s the second time this month that the GPS and app failed. 

I ran the same 3.1 mile path that I do every morning, but with wet shoes and clothes that at least kept me cool. The roar of thunder was chasing me along with the incoming dark, ominous clouds. I did not get to wave at the same people that cross my path most every day. It’s even more lonely when you run in the rain where you’re competing solely against the elements. Time did not matter, so the focus was on avoiding the pooling water in the street gutters. When I jumped in the pool afterwards, I did not get any wetter. The rainbow gave our backyard an even stronger tropical feel. 

I was supposed to play golf yesterday with my granddaughter, but rain forced cancellation. Instead, I watched the Hemingway inspired movies of The Snows of Kilimanjaro, The Old Man and the Sea, and A Farewell to Arms. We also started a new series titled Virgin River after finishing the Hemingway documentary. Today’s plan to go to the beach may be thwarted by the rain, but we will be on the sand all weekend once we get to Amelia Island. This means more TV watching today while the thunderstorms continue. Maybe we’ll see another rainbow before the day is over?

“The Run is Done.” Poetic words from my virtual Nike Fitness Club coach, who’s in my ear every morning. I now have less than twenty-four hours before I do it again.  Although my times were slow again this morning, my legs felt relatively good. A female runner that I see some days once again passed me with ease. She’s going twice as fast as I am and I’m envious. I found myself equally envious last night when we visited the retirement home of a media colleague.  He owns a palatial estate that makes our new home seem tiny in comparison. Everything is relative and I’m now used to a neighborhood where homes are essentially the same. Fortunately, there’s little room for improvements that can get you caught up in that Keep Up With the Jones’ mentality. 

It just goes to prove that if you just stay home, you feel very content. However, if you decide to see how the other half lives, you may find yourself disappointed in what you’ve accomplished. I find myself questioning where I went wrong rather than appreciating what I do have. Why be green with envy when your life is golden? If I had more financial resources, what would I do with them? Buy a bigger home or try to help others? Honestly, I’m stretched right now in satisfying my selfish personal needs. 

I need to remember that just three months ago we were living in an apartment. We now have three times that amount of square footage plus a spacious lanai/pool area. What would I even do with more rooms, cars, or things? It’s the most practical set-up we’ve ever had and everything is brand new. I need to appreciate and be satisfied with this, while admiring what others have accomplished! Our home is perfect for our retirement needs, so there should be no sense of envy.

My running times continue to deteriorate, despite the fact that much of the stiffness and heaviness in my legs is no longer present. Today, even my second mile was over 14 minutes and it seems like forever to complete the 5k distance. Nonetheless, consecutive day #4581 is now in the books. It has yet to rain during my running slot between 8-9 a.m. in the three months we’ve now lived in Florida. However, my shirt is just as soaked as if it it poured every morning. The after-swim is very refreshing and relaxing after all that pavement pounding. 

Tonight we have dinner with friends at the now familiar Grill at 1951; tomorrow night it’s Young Frankenstein at the Venice Theater; and Friday night is Italian Night at the Italian-American Club, as we continue to familiarize ourselves with our new city. I spent yesterday filling out a loan application and filing claims. State Farm also let me know that our recent accident was definitely the fault of the other driver and that it would not blemish my driving record. We’ve yet to hear back from North American Van Lines on our request for damage reimbursement, another project that has occupied my time. 

As I was organizing my baseball card collection and Sherm Lollar book materials, I turned on the Netflix series “Sinatra: All or Nothing At All.” It was designed to counter some of the bad publicity surrounding his alleged association with The Mob and Communism, told from the perspective of his family. It also emphasized his role in the civil rights movement. The producers used the music backdrop from his 1971 “retirement” concert that is sadly off-key in my opinion when compared to his hay-day recordings. It reminded me of my current running effort – slow and tired. However, he rebounded, as I hope to do. This will undoubtedly be the focus of the second season, if and when it’s finally produced. 

I’ve been utilizing the Nike Run Club app since I moved to Florida in April. It was an app that I installed many years ago to sync with my wrist band, the first generation of run tracking devices. I then switched to an Apple Watch and abandoned Nike until just recently. In packing for our cross-country move to Florida, an extra pair of Air Buds were discovered after being lost for a year. My wife had already bought new ones, so I decided to give these a try. The same movers packed the charging cord to my watch, so I got out of the habit of using it along with my prehistoric transistor radio, relying on Apple Music to keep me  entertained on my daily pavement jaunts through the neighborhood. Now, a friendly voice announces my split times as I listen to my favorite tunes. 

I recently added the greatest hits of both Santana and Earth, Wind, Fire to my playlist ,in anticipation of my 70th birthday concert next month in Tampa. At the end of each run, I check the stats hoping that I will someday return to youthful form. Instead, my legs are turning to mush during the final mile and my times continue to deteriorate. Today the first mile was 12’42” while the second was 13’23” and the third 14’07”.  This seems to be fairly typical anymore now that even a ten-minute mile is no longer possible on these elderly legs, when six and seven minute miles were once the standard.

In April, I ran 87.6 miles, May 94.5, June 85.2, and 25.1 miles so far in July. There may have been a day or two that I forgot to set the app or it malfunctioned. Regardless of the app, the calendar never fails and it shows my running streak to be 4,575 consecutive days. I’ve gone through various distance stages in this streak ranging from two-miles daily to the current 3.1 mile course. Every once in a rare while, I drop to the minimum mile when life gets in the way of running. Overall, I’ve averaged over 2.5 miles daily during this twelve-year stretch, accounting for just over 11,500 miles so far. I’m more than halfway through the fourth leg of the journey from Portland to Venice, FL (3,126 miles between the two cities). This doesn’t take into account all those years before when I ran consistently and even trained for marathons, but not every day. I invite you to join the Club.

For some people, a cup of coffee is their sole motivation for getting out of bed every morning. I have had my share of bad habits that tasted good like a caramel latte on my way to the office or a Diet Coke to get my blood flowing. They were often treats for running every morning. There is always that reluctance to leave the cozy comfort of the covers and lace up the running shoes. At times in my life,  I was able to turn over and go back to sleep after justifying that a day off was in order. However, twelve years ago I made a pledge to myself that I would run every day without exception. In a way, it’s easier to just get up and do it without even thinking about all the reasons why not to. I never really feel like it or look forward to it but it’s what keeps me ticking. 

Today was number 4,565 after checking the http://www..runeveryday.com website that keeps track of my journey. There are thousands of crazy people like me who make this personal pledge. Their stories are told on the pages of this site, ranging from more than fifty years to the one-year minimum to qualify for membership. Three-hundred-and-sixty-five consecutive days is all it takes to earn a certificate. I’m a lifetime member rather than pay yearly dues – a club where I know only a handful of the members. My streak is ranked at #203 internationally, extending now for twelve-and-a-half years. Get up and get running has been the story of my life every single day. 

By the time I got to work every morning, I was a step ahead of everyone else as they sipped their morning coffee. I’ve since retired from work but not from running. It helped with the transition into retirement, and at this point it will be nature’s doing to end my streak. I’ve been fortunate to avoid serious injuries and maybe stupid for running through minor ones. I move so slow now that I sometimes feel like I’ll keel over like Laugh-In’s Artie Johnson on a bicycle. I’ve had trainers and chiropractors get me through many set-backs. The fact of the matter is now that my feet feel like heavy blocks of ice and that every step is awkward and heavy. I watch these Olympic athletes move as if like they’re walking on air, while I clomp along the pavement every morning like I have a flat tire. 

It’s not running that has damaged my feet but rather neuropathy from aging. I can’t imagine how inflexible my body might be without the miles I put in every morning. There is little feeling in my toes that I only tend to focus on when my muscles aren’t aching. It only goes to prove that the mind can only process pain from a single source. Stiffness, discomfort, and aches are often a distraction from the numbness in my feet. It feels like my toes are frozen but massaging them will not restore the feeling. At least there is not severe pain like those who suffer with similar issues brought on by diabetes. As a result, I can keep on running every day on these awkward blocks of ice.