Alex P. Keaton

When I was a kid I spent many afternoons watching reruns of sitcoms, particularly Happy Days, The Facts of Life, Different Strokes, and Family Ties.  And I'm almost certain that i've seen every single episode of The Brady Bunch at least three times.  I'm not kidding.  I loved that show.  There were sooo many good episodes of the Brady Bunch -- the one where Greg Brady becomes a rock start just because he "fits the suit", and then there's the time that Mike Brady lost the architecture plans in the amusement park, or when Marcia is president of the Davy Jones Fan Club and convinces him to come to a school dance.  Wow.  Loved it.

But the television character that stands out the most in my episodic memory is Alex P. Keaton, the conservative Young Republican son of ex-hippies on Family Ties.  It always seemed like Alex was going from one really important project or event to another, decked out in his khaki pants and a collared shirt.  He was aggressive, well-spoken, competitive, and really driven.  I was none of those things.  Every afternoon I wanted to be Alex P. Keaton, but in my junior high mind I had no idea of how to do it, so instead I continued sitting on the couch eating my favorite snack -- shredded cheddar cheese melted on tortilla chips with jalapenos.  

I'm now more than twice the age of my Alex Keaton-infatuated self and realize that no matter what I might have tried, I would have never turned out to be like him.  I'm simply not the kind of guy that goes after things and it's so very evident in the way that I run.  For instance, marathon training plans are all different, but at their core they all say the same thing:  "follow this grid of specified weekly runs for four months and anybody can be the next Kenyan phenom."  Well, not exactly, but they all look the same.  Three short runs during the week and one long run on the weekend, rest on Sunday.  Done deal.  When I first started running marathons I would print one of these plans and try my best to stick to it, but rare was the occasion that I would complete all of the mid-week runs.  There's a couple of reasons for that, number one being the fact that i'm a big ole boy and my knees can only take so much pounding, but mainly because I live for the the weekend long run.  I've opined more times than I can count about how much Saturday mornings laced up is when I feel the most authentic, the most alive, the most in touch with all things that are well in the world.  And because i'm still not Alex P. Keaton, I really couldn't give a rip about my finishing times, so skipping those mid-week runs has never been a big deal.  All I want to do is go out on Saturday mornings and run for a really long time.

So last week when I pulled a stunt and jumped on the latest bandwagon by committing to run every single day between Thanksgiving and New Year's Day, I knew that i'd be in for a challenge.  I usually eschew the running fads:  I  have no desire to run through mud pits, wear viking helmets, pound beers, eat donuts at each mile, or allow spectators to throw powder on me.  But there was something intriguing about lacing up for 35 days straight, so I declared I would do it.  No skipping days, no making excuses.  Here goes nothing.

Day One started with a Turkey Trot 5K in Springdale that i've done for a few years now.  It's a great race and seems to be populated with some of my favorite local runners, this year including Patty Pain in the mix.  The rest of the day included the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and the newer of the television traditions, the American Kennel Club Dog Show.  Cynthia, as always, handled the cooking while Don and I did the eating.

Day Two fell on Black Friday which, oddly enough, was calm and manageable because all the crazies that were damned and determined to get another toaster for $9.99 were out the night before.  I picked up a few gifts, namely for my nephew Charles, and then got in some treadmill miles before spending the afternoon watching football and following twitter posts about #walmartfights.  And trust me, there was plenty of behavior to warrant a specific hashtag.  Keep it classy, shoppers.

In a bout of creative genius, I decided to run three miles on Day Three.  See what I did??  But the highlight of the day was having dinner and drinks with the Huneycutts and the Muries.  Anytime three runners get together the conversation doesn't stray far from running, and Jamey and I plotted possible marathons for Spring 2014 and tried to convince Kim into coming with us.  I can't confirm what Jay, Todd, and James talked about, but the three of us held up our end of the bargain then entire night.  Please notice the relatively creepy Santa hanging over my shoulder.  I love him.  

    

Today is officially Day Four of this running-every-day thing and I got in a great lap around the lake under cloudy skies, but with perfect temperatures.  Despite the angsty, contemplative selfie below, it was the perfect chance to get lost in my own head for a while and think.  It was also a good time to push really hard, which is what I did for the majority of the trail. 

Four days down, 31 more to go.  I'm excited about this!  I'm hoping it will help me learn to appreciate the short mile runs that i've always placed on the back burner.  That's not to say that I wasn't born for the Saturday morning long run, but everybody has a little bit of Alex P. Keaton in them.  Maybe it's time for mine to show up.

Lastly, I want to send a shout out to one of my most favorite people in the world, Carole Swope, who is featured in today's Arkansas Democrat-Gazette.  Her story is one of a life full of running, speaking up for people that don't always get spoken for, and generally doing good things.  She's a great friend and runner and i'm happy for her.

Run.