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Question:

Hexe asked: >Doughnut, are you saving your runs to a journal.  it would be >such a shame to have these beautiful images evaporate into the >ether when the news servers purge.

Yes I am saving them. It will be nice to look back on and remember not only the runs, but the people that I have dedicated them to. >your words make envisioning your runs so easy and enjoyable.  i >have a visual mind; if i cannot easily envision what i am >reading, then i don’t.  this is why i don’t enjoy technical sf, i >can’t see what they are writing.  your words come in clear and >vivid colors.

[blush] Thank you. >aren’t there pedometers (whatever) for measuring your miles/time? >wait, the good ones cost money, right? >hey gang!  how about a netathon to finance Doughnut?  he’s >running for us, after all.  does England have General Delivery at >the post office?  we could send dollars and deutschmarks to >Doughnut c/o General Delivery in a village near you that wouldn’t >reveal who/where you are.  i think we have some left over Pounds >from vacation.

Actually, I’m pretty good at estimating speed/distance, although I have thought of getting a pedometer. Some people have watches that will beep to measure your pace – this can drive you mad in a race when you pass a group all beeping at different rates! I never look at my watch whilst running, just check at the start and end. I am amazed at how I can run distances up to 12 miles, in all weather conditions, and take *exactly* the same time each time. >you could buy a beanie with a propeller on it so we could keep >track of you in case the marathon is televised on one of the >sports channels.  all those heads and one spinning propeller.  i >could say, "Look!  Look! ML there goes Doughnut!"

I’ll be the one at the front being chased by everyone mesmerised by the tassles on my butt (or so I’ve been told!) Love always, Doughnut Girdle your grummits, rollock your fussits, tether your nadgers and plight your cordwangle – ramblin syd rumpo — For more information about this service, send e-mail to:

Response:

>Doughnut, >  I feel like I am on a wonderful vaccation each time I read about your >runs. I feel if I was to go there, I would know where everything was. >                           Love, Penny

Thank you Penny, I am pleased that you enjoy them! >ps. I did get a giggle, when you said >you saw black crows jumping…I read it >as black cows jumping puddles…HAhaha >what a sight.

I suppose they would have to be ’sea-cows’! If I see any I will be sure to to let you know!! Love, Doughnut Girdle your grummits, rollock your fussits, tether your nadgers and plight your cordwangle – ramblin syd rumpo — For more information about this service, send e-mail to:

Response:

Hi anna! Yes, I would be happy to put your name on my list. I am going to put the names on my race t-shirt too (with everyone’s permission, of course), so we will all be represented. Getting up is tough, it seems to be the only time between 12 and 6 when my brain decides it needs sleep – it must be some kind of defence mechanism! Thank you for your kind words. Take care, Doughnut Girdle your grummits, rollock your fussits, tether your nadgers and plight your cordwangle – ramblin syd rumpo – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text ->these are so lovely, i hope that i can have the energy to get out there >too.. im really working on it.. for me some days i can *never* get out >of bed. before i started taking this medicine i spent every day in bed. >may i have a run too please doughnut? >my real name is anna, you know me as amrys, and my 33rd birthday is >coming on march 29th. >i wish i were still 23!!!! but, i aint, and thats that. if nothing else >the older i get the less i care what other people think, and the more >comfortable i get with my flawed warty self as/is. >so ill be wrinklier, but happier. >may i have a run please doughnut? i read them all and run with you and >feel the air and smell the wind. thank you for making the effort and >being you. >love and peace, anna/amrys

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Response:

Doughnut,   I feel like I am on a wonderful vaccation each time I read about your runs. I feel if I was to go there, I would know where everything was.                            Love, Penny ps. I did get a giggle, when you said you saw black crows jumping…I read it as black cows jumping puddles…HAhaha what a sight.

Response:

Doughnut, Another wonderful story.  I so look forward to your runs.  Thank you for sharing them. Say has anyone taken Hexe’s idea of fund raising seriously?  Well, ASDR should have some sort of "official endorsement" for Doughnut don’t you think? Joyce

Response:

these are so lovely, i hope that i can have the energy to get out there too.. im really working on it.. for me some days i can *never* get out of bed. before i started taking this medicine i spent every day in bed. may i have a run too please doughnut? my real name is anna, you know me as amrys, and my 33rd birthday is coming on march 29th. i wish i were still 23!!!! but, i aint, and thats that. if nothing else the older i get the less i care what other people think, and the more comfortable i get with my flawed warty self as/is. so ill be wrinklier, but happier. may i have a run please doughnut? i read them all and run with you and feel the air and smell the wind. thank you for making the effort and being you. love and peace, anna/amrys – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – > I have set myself a goal of running the Prague Marathon on May > 23rd,1999. Because it is such an effort to get out there and train, I > thought that it would be nice to dedicate each run to the special > people of asdr. This gives me the motivation to get out the door, and > is a way of saying thank you for the support I have received here. I > have well over a hundred runs before the marathon, so if you would > like to be added to the list, please feel free to email me. > Today’s run is for Misty who, according to Hexe, is 23 today. I think > it is wonderful that all the asdr ladies are 23 at the same time, it > is *quite* a coincidence . Misty, I know that you are going through > some troubled times at the moment. I can relate so much to what you > say. I hope that you can see today as a day to start looking to a > bright new future, and that the day itself brings you joy, strength, > beauty and love. > 17th February 1999 > I had a twenty minute debate with the sleep gods this morning. They > always want to impose their will at the very time that I need to get > up, and it is such a struggle to overcome them today. But I need to > train if I am to finish this marathon in reasonable physical shape, > and I feel happiest running early, so I reluctantly rise and sink the > first coffee of the day. > Stepping out I see that the sky is already quite bright, and although > there are few clouds there are no stars and no Moon. The air is much > colder than yesterday, probably a consequence of the lack of cloud > cover, and the icy blasts of cold air chill my arms and legs as I set > off down the steep hill. > The village is expecting the garbage truck today, and the streets are > an obstacle course of randomly placed black rubbish bags. A man in a > bright yellow coat is gathering the bags into neat piles by the side > of the road, narrowing my path as I race along. I have much momentum > from running down the hill and I have to slow myself into a more > relaxed pace. > Passing through the village I look up and see a beautiful sky of > powder blue with a pink blush in the north west, an echo of the rich > ruby sunrise behind me. The sea is calm in spite of the strongish > breeze, and I am already feeling warm from my efforts. In the > increasing brightness of the dawn the beach appears much paler than > usual. The tide is low, and I can see long streaks of seaweed normally > hidden deep beneath the waves. Off in the distance I can see the > pulsing beam of the lighthouse that marks the tip of the headland, and > I follow the golden braid of streetlamps that illuminate the curving > coastline. > As I make my way towards the hotel lights I glance over to my right. > The lush green grass of the golf course is peppered with a scattering > of white and grey seagulls, early birds out to catch early worms. I > wonder to myself why, after millions of years of history and > experience, the danger of sticking your head out of the soil at dawn > has not become firmly esconced in worm-folklore. Worms must be pretty > stupid. How often do you see them after a fall of rain, making their > way across vast expanses of tarmac, miles (in worm distance) from the > safety of the soft earth? > On my left, on the beach, are black crows, hopping over the pebbles > and cawing loudly. Wednesday must be beach day for crows, and golf > course day for seagulls. I find I am still running at quite a pace > making me conscious of the improvement in my strength and stamina > since the start of the year. On a long straight path like this it is a > difficult task to balance speed with the need to breath deeply and > supply the muscles. I have to be aware of the distance still to > travel, I am still travelling away from my home and musn’t tire myself > out. I carry a pound coin in my fob pocket for emergencies, although I > would be deeply embarrassed to have to catch a bus in my running gear! > Let’s hope it never happens! > I reach the Pug Lady, and my turning point. The pugs are trotting > aimlessly in all directions, but pay me no attention. I run up the > road and onto the canal path. My legs feel particularly strong this > morning and I fly along the deserted path, bathed in light from the > rising Sun. High above me I see a jet flying off to Europe, the twin > vapour trails of its engines brightly illuminated and forming parallel > streaks of gold against the pure blue sky. > The Sun is blinding now, and it is with a little relief that I leave > the path and join the main road. Although it is not especially > pleasant to run by the road one needs some variation in the landscape > to break up the long miles of the run, and the pretty houses and > gardens compensate for the nuisance and noise of passing vehicles. I > am running fast now, for me, of course. I judge that I am probably > doing about seven minutes a mile. It always crosses my mind that, > although I feel fast, this would be a slow training pace for the top > athletes. They will cover each of the twenty six miles of the marathon > in less than five minutes, which is truly remarkable. > As I rejoin the promenade I find myself in the full glow of the > morning Sun. The brightness is too intense for my unaccustomed eyes, > having just emerged from the shade of buildings, and I squint through > narrowed eyes at the road ahead. Glancing across I see a beautiful > shimmering path that leads towards the Sun, flanked by irridescent > blue sea. > I am back in the village now, which is already starting to buzz with > activity. My legs begin to tire as I start the climb up the hill to > home, but I recover my strength as I level out and sprint the last few > hundred yards home. > I hope you have enjoyed your run with me this morning, Misty. I was > blessed with some beautiful sights and sounds, and wonderful weather. > I hope that this special day for you is filled with happiness and > beauty, for it is no less than you deserve. > Take care, > Doughnut > Girdle your grummits, rollock your fussits, tether your nadgers and > plight your cordwangle – ramblin syd rumpo > — > For more information about this service, send e-mail to:

Response:

I have set myself a goal of running the Prague Marathon on May 23rd,1999. Because it is such an effort to get out there and train, I thought that it would be nice to dedicate each run to the special people of asdr. This gives me the motivation to get out the door, and is a way of saying thank you for the support I have received here. I have well over a hundred runs before the marathon, so if you would like to be added to the list, please feel free to email me. Today’s run is for Misty who, according to Hexe, is 23 today. I think it is wonderful that all the asdr ladies are 23 at the same time, it is *quite* a coincidence . Misty, I know that you are going through some troubled times at the moment. I can relate so much to what you say. I hope that you can see today as a day to start looking to a bright new future, and that the day itself brings you joy, strength, beauty and love. 17th February 1999 I had a twenty minute debate with the sleep gods this morning. They always want to impose their will at the very time that I need to get up, and it is such a struggle to overcome them today. But I need to train if I am to finish this marathon in reasonable physical shape, and I feel happiest running early, so I reluctantly rise and sink the first coffee of the day. Stepping out I see that the sky is already quite bright, and although there are few clouds there are no stars and no Moon. The air is much colder than yesterday, probably a consequence of the lack of cloud cover, and the icy blasts of cold air chill my arms and legs as I set off down the steep hill. The village is expecting the garbage truck today, and the streets are an obstacle course of randomly placed black rubbish bags. A man in a bright yellow coat is gathering the bags into neat piles by the side of the road, narrowing my path as I race along. I have much momentum from running down the hill and I have to slow myself into a more relaxed pace. Passing through the village I look up and see a beautiful sky of powder blue with a pink blush in the north west, an echo of the rich ruby sunrise behind me. The sea is calm in spite of the strongish breeze, and I am already feeling warm from my efforts. In the increasing brightness of the dawn the beach appears much paler than usual. The tide is low, and I can see long streaks of seaweed normally hidden deep beneath the waves. Off in the distance I can see the pulsing beam of the lighthouse that marks the tip of the headland, and I follow the golden braid of streetlamps that illuminate the curving coastline. As I make my way towards the hotel lights I glance over to my right. The lush green grass of the golf course is peppered with a scattering of white and grey seagulls, early birds out to catch early worms. I wonder to myself why, after millions of years of history and experience, the danger of sticking your head out of the soil at dawn has not become firmly esconced in worm-folklore. Worms must be pretty stupid. How often do you see them after a fall of rain, making their way across vast expanses of tarmac, miles (in worm distance) from the safety of the soft earth? On my left, on the beach, are black crows, hopping over the pebbles and cawing loudly. Wednesday must be beach day for crows, and golf course day for seagulls. I find I am still running at quite a pace making me conscious of the improvement in my strength and stamina since the start of the year. On a long straight path like this it is a difficult task to balance speed with the need to breath deeply and supply the muscles. I have to be aware of the distance still to travel, I am still travelling away from my home and musn’t tire myself out. I carry a pound coin in my fob pocket for emergencies, although I would be deeply embarrassed to have to catch a bus in my running gear! Let’s hope it never happens! I reach the Pug Lady, and my turning point. The pugs are trotting aimlessly in all directions, but pay me no attention. I run up the road and onto the canal path. My legs feel particularly strong this morning and I fly along the deserted path, bathed in light from the rising Sun. High above me I see a jet flying off to Europe, the twin vapour trails of its engines brightly illuminated and forming parallel streaks of gold against the pure blue sky. The Sun is blinding now, and it is with a little relief that I leave the path and join the main road. Although it is not especially pleasant to run by the road one needs some variation in the landscape to break up the long miles of the run, and the pretty houses and gardens compensate for the nuisance and noise of passing vehicles. I am running fast now, for me, of course. I judge that I am probably doing about seven minutes a mile. It always crosses my mind that, although I feel fast, this would be a slow training pace for the top athletes. They will cover each of the twenty six miles of the marathon in less than five minutes, which is truly remarkable. As I rejoin the promenade I find myself in the full glow of the morning Sun. The brightness is too intense for my unaccustomed eyes, having just emerged from the shade of buildings, and I squint through narrowed eyes at the road ahead. Glancing across I see a beautiful shimmering path that leads towards the Sun, flanked by irridescent blue sea. I am back in the village now, which is already starting to buzz with activity. My legs begin to tire as I start the climb up the hill to home, but I recover my strength as I level out and sprint the last few hundred yards home. I hope you have enjoyed your run with me this morning, Misty. I was blessed with some beautiful sights and sounds, and wonderful weather. I hope that this special day for you is filled with happiness and beauty, for it is no less than you deserve. Take care, Doughnut Girdle your grummits, rollock your fussits, tether your nadgers and plight your cordwangle – ramblin syd rumpo — For more information about this service, send e-mail to:

Response: