Start Time: 5:10 a.m.
Temperature: 79.5 degrees
Location: Garland, Texas
Wildlife Report: 3 cottontails
Police Report: 0 cars
Distance: 6 miles
Time: 1:01:35

Sunday morning runs always have the potential of being wonderful -- I leave so that as I make my turnaround, the sun is rising. Often, stunningly beautiful. At the end of my Sunday morning runs, there is also the potential for excitement -- since early spring, grackles have been dive-bombing me as I run by where I assume they are nesting. When you're in a mental "zone", and something loud swoops down and brushes your head, it can be harrowing. I embarrassingly let out a loud yelp, and then look around to see if anyone saw or heard me.

This morning I was chased by a thunderstorm. About 2 miles out, it started to sprinkle a bit. By 3 miles it was a pretty good rain. Normally, this would be wonderful, but as hot and steamy as it was this morning (a visual steambath rising from the pavement), this had the potential of developing into a serious thunderstorm. So, I made the turn and high-tailed it home. Safe and sound. Thank you, Lord.

I have been caught in serious thunderstorms twice, and don't like it a bit. So, I avoid that possibility as much as possible.

All-in-all, it was a good run. The wet roads kept me from "braking" which I have a tendency to do. I was totally soaked when I got home, but in a good way.

I ate a little bit this morning before my run, which I haven't been doing for awhile. I'm trying to turn myself into a real runner, perhaps to train and eat like a real athlete.

Note: An edited (for space) version of this article ran in the Dallas Morning News Metro section on Sunday, April 26, 2009.

People undertake a new fitness or weight-loss program because they think the end result will ultimately make them “happier.” Let me help you out. Please don’t do that.

I'm a happy runner, a very happy person really. But, running isn't responsible for my happiness. My fitness level, my strength and stamina, my not being a medical burden on my family, my energy level, my good spiritedness, my positive outlook on life -- yes. My happiness? Well...

Happiness is so subjective. My happiness is based on who I am right now. What makes me happy right now may not make me happy tomorrow, or next week, or 20 minutes from now. I won't be the same person then as I am now; I’ll have had an infinite number of life experiences between now and then that will have changed my perception of happiness. (Imagine, trying to plan a "happy" retirement. Lord knows what’s going to bring me happiness 20 years from now!)

I was about this happy as a non-runner 15 years ago. When I was someone who had never run a 5K, a 10K, the Dallas YMCA Turkey Trot, the DRC Half Marathon, the White Rock Marathon. I was perfectly happy (whatever that is) with getting 8 hours of sleep; waking up and having a cup of good, strong, hot, black coffee; showering; eating a bowl of cereal; and heading to work around 7:30.

Now, to achieve the same level of morning happiness, I must also run.

Get 2 less hours of sleep. Slip quietly out the front door in all weather conditions (I avoid running if the temperature is below freezing, or if it's stormy -- OK, so I'm a wimp.) Spend money on 4 extra pairs of shoes each year. Shorts. Socks. Magazines. Fuel. (This is not to say that I don't get all giddy and goofy when I know I'm headed down to Luke's Locker for a new pair, or two, of running shoes. It makes me euphoric!) Endure the aches and pains associated with running (good aches and pains, mind you.)

When I first started running, a 1-mile run made me "happy." Then, it was 3. Then 5. Then 6. Now, it's 8. Until August, and then it's anywhere from 6 to 20 miles, depending on the week and day. When I first started running, 12-minute miles were great. Then, it had to be 11-minute. Then, 10-minute miles. (OK, I'm pokey, too.)

So, for me, happiness and running aren't the same game. They have virtually nothing to do with each other.

Someone tried to turn me on to Nutella yesterday, again. I am the lucky person who has not yet tasted Nutella. She assured me Nutella was out of this world, and that I must try it.

Nutella is not going to increase my "happiness." If anything, it will decrease it.

Right now, I'm someone who has never tasted Nutella. I'm perfectly happy (whatever that is) sitting on the couch after dinner, watching TV, with a handful (or half a box) of graham cracker sticks. One taste of Nutella, and to achieve the same level of happiness, I'm probably going to have to sit on the couch after dinner, watching TV, with a handful (or half a box) of graham cracker sticks -- and a fresh tub of Nutella to dip them in.

This will lead to a higher level of guilt and anxiety, and make my next morning run almost mandatory (just try to calculate how many miles you're going to have to run to burn that off, mister.) No, sir. No Nutella for Nelson.

I'm a runner. I'll never again in my life be someone who hasn't gone for one of those long, exhausting, exhilirating, rewarding, 20-mile training runs. And, I'm so glad for that.

But, don't take up running, or any fitness or weight loss program, because it's going to make you "happy" (whatever that is.) Happiness is going to have to come from somewhere else.

It's strange that I am out of town 2 weeks out of the last 3. I don't have a traveling job. I despise traveling. I am a creature of habit, and when I get out of my routine, I can barely function. But, this week I am in Chicago.

I love running in Chicago! I am downtown very close to the harbor -- about 1/2 mile from the nice, soft composite biking/running trail that runs right along the water. Yachts and sailboats, seagulls, Canadian geese, cottontails, and lots of other runners and bikers are my companions. The temperature has been near 60 degrees each morning with a light wind. Running heaven.

Near one of the stadiums there is a memorial area for fallen paramedics and firefighters. Huge rectangular stones, I assume memorializing each hero. The stones are spread out, and some in clumps, and it appears are meant to be sat on to stop and reflect and remember.

The landscaping along this trail is amazing. Flowers that have long given up in North Texas are thriving here. Alot of the trail is shady from tall trees. There are several huge yachts -- much bigger than my house, docked along the edge. I've been leaving to run at 5:15 a.m., and on a couple of these big boats, someone is up on the deck with a cup of coffee. As I make my turnaround and head back, the sun is coming up over Lake Michigan.

Have I gushed enough about running in Chicago?

I know it's not truly running heaven because of one thing -- gnats. There are funnel clouds of gnats swirling around most of the lights on the trail. Sometimes you don't see them, and you run into a cloud of them. They're all over your face and neck and arms. They're in your eyes and mouth and nose. (I always bring a washcloth with me to wipe sweat, and gnats.) You wipe and wave and cough and gag and spit -- and the people driving by are thinking, "Man, if that's what running looks like, leave me out of it."

Other than the gnats, Chicago running in August is pure bliss.

One other observation -- everyone is so driven up here. The bikers that race by are totally focused. They don't smile or say good morning -- they just race by like they are trying to catch up with Lance. (Except for the really large black guy who is riding along with his bike helmet, and he is smiling from ear to ear, and he actually greets me like an old friend now that we've seen each other the last 3 mornings.) The runners are the same -- racing along, checking their watches. One man's watch was beeping -- how much fun is that in such a beautiful setting?

There has been one delightful red-haired girl on the trail. She alternates running with biking. She is stunningly beautiful. An angel with red hair and rosy cheeks. She also smiled at me yesterday, and life was good for the rest of my day.

Have you ever gone out for a run just to experience the joy in moving? That's really what I do every morning. I'm not going to win any races. I don't often establish any PRs. (On Monday, my time was 1:04:07. On Tuesday, my time for the same route was 1:04:06 -- getting faster. On Wednesday, when the red-haired girl smiled at me, my time was 1:02:42. Today, I rest. Tomorrow I can't wait to do my 12-miler to finish my week.) I finish, and I pretty much enjoy every minute of my runs. If you haven't run that kind of run lately, you might give it a try.

I'm just a plodder. You guys go on ahead.

Run on, friends.

Thanks, Edouard, for ushering in that rain-cooled swirling east/northeast wind this morning. For giving us hope that there are truly cooler mornings on their way.

Sometimes one morning like this one is all it takes to encourage a "rhino" that 26.2 miles is really a possibility.

Run on, friends.

When I inquired earlier about a possible running path here in St. Charles, they responded there was really no place to run. Actually, there is a perfect sidewalk headed out into a business district on which to run, so I had to hike over to Target yesterday and pick up a pair of running shorts, shirt, and a couple of G2s. By the way they were looking at me, I don't think people at Target in St. Charles see too many guys in cowboy boots and wearing a big ol' belt buckle.

It was 69 this morning in St. Charles, IL at 5:30 when I left. Beautiful. The landscaping is magnificent. Beautiful petunias in late July - imagine. The impatiens are mounds of splender. Hydrangeas look like pom poms. The folks here were complaining about the 88-degree heat yesterday.

The running trail was essentially perfect. New. No bad places to trip over. Weaving in and out of pines and oaks. No traffic. I ran by a vanilla factory. Running on a cooler morning, enveloped in a cloud of vanilla, is quite the experience. I don't think I touched the ground for about a quarter of a mile.

St. Charles sidewalks are a little peculiar. No beer or whiskey bottles broken all over the sidewalk, just waiting to puncture the air pockets in my Nike Air Structures, inviting rhino runners to do a little dance to avoid them. No dirty diapers. No pieces of clothes dropped out. No bags of McDonalds leftovers thrown to the side.

I'm ready to be back on my regular route, where it's hot, and the surroundings are more familiar.

I don't drink, and at last night's cocktail hour, one of the people I was talking with was very concerned about me, and she told me they had non-alcoholic beer at the bar if I wanted to look like I was drinking.

I ran my first "long" run this morning - 8 miles. I say first "long" run because everything is relative. I've trained for 2 marathons before, so I know 8 miles will eventually become a recovery run, or just a run to stay loose.

Life is relative too, I think. There is always someone who makes more or less than me; who makes me feel fat, or thin; who makes me think I'm smart, or dumb; who makes me think I'm a decent writer, or that I should hang it up. I guess that's what I like about running -- at the pace I run (slow), I'm really just competing against myself. There is always someone in front of me, and behind me. So, I just plod along and enjoy the experience.

Friday mornings work best for my long, solitary runs (I run alone.) I'll start adding a mile each week until I get up to at least 20 miles, do several of those, and then taper back down before the race. I'll schedule 4 other fitness runs of 6-10 miles each week. Then, if I can stay healthy and avoid injury, this year's marathon should be an enjoyable experience.

I ran the 1997 White Rock Marathon. But, we moved ourselves into our current house the Thursday and Friday before, and Saturday I raked 27 bags of leaves (the race was on Sunday.) What was I thinking? At mile 16 I was empty. I was able to finish, but was not in very good shape. It was cold and rainy that day, and my wife had to drive me home because I was shivering and shaking so bad (hypothermia is rampant, I know now, after cold marathons unless you change clothes quickly and bundle up.) I also had not learned to eat on the run, yet -- I now know that is absolutely critical.

I've run the Dallas Running Club's (www.dallasrunningclub.com) Half Marathon (www.drchalf.com) every year for as long as I can remember -- I think this year will be my 11th. 13.1 miles is a long way to run and requires a lot of training. If you've ever considered taking up running, this is about as good a goal as it gets. The DRC's Half is, in my and a lot of people's opinion, the best in the country -- as good as it gets. It's truly a blast to be out there every year.

Two years ago I registered for and trained for the Dallas White Rock Marathon, did three 20-mile runs, began my taper, went to my mother's for Thanksgiving, got a sinus infection, and felt absolutely beat up for about 3 weeks. Had to just let my entry fee be a donation that year. This year I've got to stay healthy.

So, this morning's 8-miler was OK. Just 2 miles more than my normal run. It was pretty warm -- 80.2 degrees when I left. Uneventful. I would have enjoyed it more had I not had all that dinner and cheesecake last night. I've totally given up sweets, so when I do eat sweets (I make an awesome cheesecake and cannot pass it up), the low I experience afterwards is really low.

Come along for the ride, and join me for the Dallas Running Club Half Marathon, and perhaps the Dallas White Rock Marathon.

Run on, friend.