Today I ran in the 1st Annual Highland Alumni Huff and Puff. Nothing amazing happened, so there's nothing really to write about it. So I figured I'd reuse an old blog entry from when I was in the Czech Republic. This is from a race that I ran after my first month in Prague.  I enjoyed the race very much, so I've been wanting to put this in there, so I figure today is as good a reason as any.  So here it goes

September 21 2003
Two big things happened today. Today is our first luniversary of being in Prague and J-dawg and I ran in the Mattoni Grand Prix. The Mattoni Grand Prix is a 10K (6.25 miles) race through downtown Prague. It was very exciting and very tiring. Danny and I went down to Staré Město (the Old Square) early and watched the women's 5K and some of the Barman race. The 5K (3.125 miles) was interesting because it's fun to watch women run who run 5K faster than I will ever be able to run it.
The Barman race was stupid. It was just a bunch of people who work in bars running around with Mattoni water trying not to drop it. We watched a little bit of it, but then decided to stretch for the race.
Finally we got to the men's race. J-dawg and I stretched while we waited for the ones in charge to announce the important people (a few Kenyans and some Czechs) then they fired the gun. At first I was very upset because there was this mass of people that were in my way. I had to dodge slow, chubby old people, I kept having to slow down, and I had to run all around to get around these slower people that started ahead of me somehow. But it wasn't too long before I got out of most of them and I was with the big dogs (or at least the other people who were running approximately my pace). As time went on fewer and fewer people were with me.
Just before the half way point, this guy in a yellow shirt flew past me. For some reason I looked down and I noticed that the chump wasn't wearing any shoes. Not that he wasn't wearing good shows or that he wasn't wearing running shoes, but the crazy guy just plain wasn't wearing any shoes. Not only that, but he was booking. I thought to myself, I can't let a guy with no shoes beat me, but he got pretty far ahead. When I finally reached the half way point I turned up the heat ever so slightly. I had 5 kilometers left and I wanted to do the second half faster than the first. At about 7 Kilometers a nice guy that I caught up with offered me something to drink, despite germs and such I was thirsty enough to gladly accept. I was surprised at how much energy this gave me and at 8 kilometers I caught up with the shoeless wonder.
He and I passed eachother back and forth for most of the rest of the race. But finally when I reached the home stretch I turned up the heat a little bit more. I was passing people left and right; it felt great. And I also passed my barefooted friend.
I was coming up to the finish line. 40 feet to go, 30 feet 25 feet, and as 20 feet came up someone passed me. It was terrible; I have no idea who he was nothing in my life would change if I did or didn't beat this guy; but still I was hearbroken at the idea of this guy beating in the last second. But I decided I could not let him pass me. I was already tired from running the last kilometer, but I went full tilt. The announcer noticed our small battle and started yelling something all I understood was my number. I imagined that he was saying, "366 is coming up right behind on his tail." Finally, with a few feet to go I passed him and crosed the finish line. I hadn't done anything amazing. I had finished in just under 45 minutes but I won the battle at the end and I was satisfied. Ohh yeah...I was also dead tired. I couldn't bend down to take of the ankle thing. I could barely carry the bags they handed me or the medal. I gladly took an apple and a water, found a shady corner, rested, and ate my apple basking in my personal glory. Anyway, it was great fun, and now I'll be pumped for a while for the marathon in May.

Note: I didn't end up running in the marathon (I'm a sissy)

  I've been sick for a few days now. It started very early Tuesday. Yesterday my mom, a Nurse Practitioner, was talking to my grandmother, a grandmother, on the phone. I heard her say, "Yeah he's got something with flu-like symptoms." I assumed that that meant that it was like the flu, but not the flu, whatever that meant. I also assumed that that meant I could give it a name.
   So how about something exciting like, "La Grippe"? But I come to find out that name is already taken. Apparently there's already a sickness called "La Grippe," but they don't even call it a sickness; they use the silly word "Pandemic," whatever that is. So I need a better name for my "flu-not flu."
   So back to the drawing board. Well I don't know what it is, so I could go for something like, "What is it?" But in order to make it sound good in English, I'd have to have it in a different langauge. So I shot for Hebrew and got "Manna." But apparently that one is also taken, who'd a thunk it? It was used for bread from heaven, and I certainly don't want to call my "flu-not flu," "Bread from heaven."
   So I give up and we'll just call it, "Korben's flu-not flu."

  Let me tell you a little bit about my sickness. On Tuesday morning I woke up with a temperature of 102. I don't remember most of the day cuz I slept during most of it. I had moved to the couch and fallen asleep around 10am, my mom came home around 5pm and I had just woken up. She asked me if I wanted to watch some TV. I thought to myself, "I went to sleep around 10am, so she must be here for lunch or something. She's crazy there's nothing good on TV at noon, they just have soaps and game shows (which I admit the game shows are farely interesting at times)." But anyway, I thought it was funny cuz she shortly left to go see some more patients and I went to my computer and say that she wasn't crazy; I was.
  Ok, on to Wednesday. Tuesday I ate nothing and drank very little. So I woke up at like 4 on Wednesday, dying of thirst. I layed in bed for almost an hour before I decided water wouldn't come to me. I crawled out of bed and headed out my room. I went out the door, and the next thing I new I was in the floor of the computer room and my body was hurting and I had no idea where I was or why I was there. (For those of you who don't know. From my room you go up the stairs, through the living room and a hallway and take a quick right and your in the computer room.) As you can imagine it is pretty freaky having no idea where you are or even why your there. After I decided no one had kidnapped me and it wasn't all some elaborate terrorist plot, I got up and found my way to the couch to wait about 30 minutes till my mom's alarm clock would go off and I could ask her to get me some water.
  Now comes Thursday. Thursday was generally a better day than the others. I still couldn't sit at my computer for an extended period of time, so I got an old laptop with a wireless card and lay on the couch. The first problem was that I couldn't get the laptop on the internet. I soon gave that up and switched to trying to pass the time playing games on the laptop. I found that "korben's flu-not flu" does a number on your mental processes. I tried Free Cell, but just couldn't think clearly enough to decide on all the layers of cards and such. Next I went to Minesweeper, another great game I haven't played in a long time. But I just couldn't make myself enjoy it. That being a windows 98 machine I was out of options, so I had to resort to Solitaire. Now I mean no offense to those of you who may enjoy solitaire, but I find many games much more stimulating. Anyway, my sickness made me resort to solitaire. After playing for about an hour I only beat it once, I think.

So enough rambling about my "Korben's flu-not flu."