Keeler North's Page

Woodmen Hill west of I-25. Last July, my attempt to run up the SOB depleted every energy in my body, thus leaving me in submission under a pine tree in a person's yard. I couldn't continue. Luckily I had a phone with me to call a ride. Today was my day to settle the score with the old nemesis, and that I did. My method of attack was to shoot for various targets along the stretch (streetlights, trees, mailboxes, etc.) a few hundred yards away. I used that target shooting strategy until I made…

I:  Fat Black Cat

     4:45 am.  Street lamps and daybreak's dim colorless glow were my only sources of light for the first three miles.  Jogging through the neighborhood, my limited vision then revealed a fat black cat crossing my path, but barely a second after I spat he went and crossed again.  I spat again.  Superstition never played a big part in my daily runs, but that morning I felt a certain duty to spit.  I then drank some water out of my camelback.  Who would have thought…

     Pops, when he was wrapping up a story, would cap it with a famous saying used in a western movie.  I don't quite remember what movie or who coined the phrase, but he would love to say "That's the way it was, going west..." in his hills of northern Connecticut-rumbling voice.  Now, after time has gone and done what's inevitable, I am proud to keep Pop's great sayings going strong by recalling "the way it was" with the Las Vegas Marathon.  

     It was cold that morning.  The sun…