Here is how my conversation with Cal.E. went today.
d.: How are you today, my zen friend?
C.: Not so good, d.c. I have been supplying my fellow inmates with a blog about what is going on in the outside world, since I am the only one who gets to talk to anyone FROM the outside world. I just put it under their doors when we get through talking.
d.: How is that a bad thing?
C.: Well, I supply my fellow inmates with a free service, but let ME ask for something in return, and all I get is rude remarks. Remarks like, "Aren’t you in here to stop doing those things?” SMH
d.: That does NOT sound right, Cal.E., but what are you asking for?
C.: The usual. Smokes, catnip.. especially CATNIP. But, I am being rude. Please tell me how the review went with online bookclub.org.? d.: Okay, I guess. I got three out of four stars. For my first book that is released to the public, I will take that. I am positive from the interviewer’s comments that s/he read the whole book, so I think that it is a fair assessment.
C: Wow! Three out of four stars! That’s GREAT. With such a good review, you MUST be following in the footsteps of some of the greats, like Lewis Carroll and Edgar Allen Poe.
d.: How so? C.: these two (and many others, I’m sure) had a little extra “help,” if you catch my drift. Surely you are using something. Catnip is the best thing to help with writer’s block (or any other problem). Certainly, you have some on you now. NO ONE can survive for very long without it. Just give me a taste. Just a little bit, and I will NEVER ask again. PLEASE d.c.!!
d.: Hey, get your paws off me! This is a noncontact visit. Guard!
C: OH NO! not the gas again. ROWRR!! Hey, that’s pretty good. Can I have some more?
d.: Cal.E. will be in solitary for a LONG time.
And now, chapter thirteen of "Beyond the Thirteenth Mile; The Iron Man Chronicles
CHAPTER 13:
TINY SOLDIERS
Run course; Mile three: I feel better now, but I am not ready to run yet. This group seems to be content to walk the whole run course. They believe that they will still finish the race in under seventeen hours.
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At least I am a mature person. I have the training, mentality, and mental toughness to finish this race (I hope), unlike a young child.
I remember Seth’s first competitive race. He did NOT understand what it was all about until he started to run. That probably helped him get interested in running as a hobby and a sport. He was so proud of himself after that race. He and his companions looked like tiny soldiers lining up for that first race, though…...
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They lined up like so many tiny soldiers, miniature Ironmen and women in the making all, awaiting the starting gun. All, save four or five, were five year old’s. The other four or five were only four, but there was no division for them, due to a lack of interest (mainly from the parents.) They were all set to run the very first race of their young lives, which was to be a distance of one kilometer (about five-eighths of a mile).
Actually, the term “race" is a bit of a stretch because there are no awards, and of course, no losers; only winners, youngsters who finished the course. My focus on this particular day was on one of the four-year-olds, my stepson to be, Seth.
In his four-year-old mind, Seth had a very limited concept of what running a race was all about (as I'm sure, most four and five-year-olds do.) I had taken him on a few "training runs" around the block that Nicole's house was on. The block was, conveniently, exactly one kilometer in circumference. Not being familiar with the concept behind training, Seth would invariably stop for a rest break about one-half of the way through the “run.” Now, as he lined up for the run, he finally understood. He was going to race-like I did. Turning to Nicole, he said, "I'll do it myself" as he motioned for me to go back and stand with Nicole.
Six months before this race, his actions would not have surprised me at all. Seth saw me as a threat to his exclusive relationship with his mother- and rightly so. He made no attempt to hide his dissatisfaction with our relationship at first. With time, though, Seth began to at least see me as a suitable playmate. He also saw me as someone with whom to run, and Seth loves to run.
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The gun sounded, and all of the five-year-olds sprinted for the first turn. Seth, being a little overexcited, "overran his legs" to use a runner's term. In other words, he tried to run too fast too soon. As a result, he took a pretty bad spill, leaving him at the back of the pack.
I had followed at a safe distance to keep an eye on him just in case something of this sort eventuated. As I ran upon him, I promptly set him back on his feet before his brain had time to register what had just happened. Seth, still a little uncertain as to whether to continue on or crawl up in my arms, looked at me, then at the volunteers, two women who had watched the whole episode and were more than a little concerned about Seth. Then, suppressing a scream, Seth bravely stated, ''It happens sometimes when you race," parroting me as he passed the two kind-hearted volunteers, taking a cup of water from each of them. With one cup, Seth quenched his thirst, and, with the other, he poured water over his scraped knees to wash out the gravel and curtail the bleeding. Then, incredibly, Seth gathered his wind and ran past all save a few of the five-year-olds, children that he wasn't even supposed to be competing against. I'm not sure how the other 3 or 4 four-year-olds fared, but Seth finished in just under ten minutes, skinned knees and all. (This was the fastest time that I thought that he could run under ideal circumstances.) Many of the twelve-year-olds at the park that day disdained one and two-kilometer runs, opting, instead, for the one-hundred and four-hundred meter distances, and many of them walked those distances.
"I won!" proclaimed an ecstatic Seth, as the volunteers slipped his finisher's medallion around his neck.
"Yes," I said, “'You sure did; because you finished!"
"I won!" Seth repeated, holding his medallion up for his mother to hold. At that moment, I'm not sure which of the three of us was the proudest, Seth, Nicole, or me.
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