Motivation is still an issue.  Since Heartland, I want to run long, but I can't seem to get myself to do it.  I haven't made it more than 14 miles.  Now that I've conquered the 100 mile beast, I don't know what the next challenge is (or if there will even be one).  What now?  The weather has grown colder, too, which doesn't help.  Bandera is a month away, and it is going to kick my ass sideways.  I'm running the 50 km race with T. and S., two trail running virgins, so we should at least keep the pace in check.  I ought to be able to gut it out. My training buddy and El Scorcho co-founder, Jballs, is going for his first 100 km.  The plan is for T., S., and me to finish the 50 km, head back to the motel, get cleaned up, and grab some dinner.  We'll then head back out to the race (probably with a 12 pack of beer) to meet Jballs at various aid stations until he finishes.

"No one can make you feel inferior without your permission."

"Collect experiences, not things."

Rescued by a clandenstine cure from south of the border (thanks for the Mexican drugs, Smoore-boy), I'm feeling much better.  The attack on my immune system lasted several days and sidelined me for half of the prior work week.   I slept for the better part of 72 hours before somewhat normalizing.  After three days of antibiotics and little movement, my physical well-being appears to have returned to base camp.  And just in time for the national observance of The Great Turkey Day and its celebration of fortuity by way of gluttony.

There are so many things in my life that I am thankful for--and take for granted on a regular basis--that to list them all would be an act of futility.

But that doesn't mean I--and, for that matter, all of us fortunate enough to possess the freedom and ability to sit at a computer and peruse random blogs, facebook entries, and wwtdd.com--should not at least try to acknowledge some of the blessings bestowed upon me.

So here are just a few things for which I am thankful.

• Nell, my wonderful, understanding, supportive, and patient wife.
• Ezra, my sweet, rambunctious, and always challenging little boy.
• Donaldo and Ynda, my wonderful parents and their love of Nell and Ezra.
• Shana, my successful, soon-to-be-married, amazingly and suddenly adult little sister.
• My friends, those who "get" my ultrarunning and those who don't, but who all support me endlessly.
• The ability to run.  Pure joy (and, at times, misery).
• Being able to play music.
• Having a job that challenges me intellectually.
• Having a job that allows me the freedom to indulge my other passions.
• Longhorn sports--particularly football.  Silly, yes, but the burnt orange ballers bring me much joy

I say it often, but only because it is true: Life is good.

I'm sick.  It sucks.  Took the day off work and have spent it in bed trying to rest but incessently coughing.  Ugh.  I long for this evening's dose of NyQuil.  At least I can get some guaranteed, drug-induced sleep.

I miss the long run.

It's a likely no-go for White Rock, folks.  The run is December 13, as is my the date of my ticket to see the Dallas Cowboys take on the San Diego Chargers at Jerry World. 

I suppose I could make it work.  The marathon starts at 8 a.m., so I would likely be finished around 12:00-12:30 p.m.  Kickoff isn't until 3:15 p.m.  I could make it happen.  And it wouldn't be the first time I've run a marathon and then attended a sporting event. 

Decisions, decisions.

The funk as settled into my lungs.  I do not recall getting sick as often P.E. (Pre-Ezra).  Over the past two years, two months, and fourteen days, however, I've noticed a somewhat regular frequency of respiratory discomfort.  Our young germ magnet (who has been sleeping MUCH better and later) has apparently and steathily unleashed an assault my immune system that cannot be squelched. 

In other news, if you happen upon ESPN's College Game Day this morning, be on the lookout for me and the Ez-Man.