230!

Q. How does a high point in your life also become a low point?
A. When that high point, 230 in my case, is followed by three merciless letters "lbs"

Following Dad's excellent introduction to the family's training update blog, it seemed appropriate to review the first holiday run of the journey, namely the Thanksgiving Morning Workout with Dad, Mom, Lily, Rob, and me (Jonathan), to date the largest assembly our expedition's cast of characters.

Though possessing neither the best writing skills of the family nor the best chance of completing our company's goal to run the Seattle Marathon on June 24, 2012 together, I do think it fitting that I break the ice with my first post to Ramsay Rerun, because, well, the ice has the best chance of breaking with me standing on it.

But before I go too far, let me think out loud for a moment and give an appropriate title capturing the sense of yesterday's effort:

Perhaps "The Ramsay Assault on the Seattle Marathon Launches in a Big Way

(Oops, walked right into that one.)

Okay. "The Wait for the Ramsay Clan Training Plan is over!"

(Definitely not.)

How about, "Is it Penguin? Is it a Refrigerator? No, Its Jonathan running an 11 minute mile"

(Sigh)

Seeing that my reduced metabolism is killing my creativity I will relent and begrudgingly entitle this post Robert's favorite new nickname for his eldest brother, "230"

:(

Unbelievable.

Well, though there's plenty, that's enough about me.

Yesterday on a 65 degree and beautiful Thanksgiving morning, we all piled into Mom's Sonata and cruised to the FHS track for a group run and general pump up session. Round and round we "Walk-Ran" the track. Lily, Rob, Dad, and Me while Mom rehabbed her freshly scoped knee.

This is the only picture mom, equipped with IPhone, took from the Run.




(Note: There are by way of comparison approximately 58 pictures of her grandson, Jake, on that same phone, which I will include unashamedly, because apparently that's the best way to get traffic to a blog post in this family.)








In all we spent an hour and a half, plodding around the familiar clay-colored and spongy oval with lots of talking (mostly dad), lots of heavy breathing (mostly me), and lots of fun. We got refreshed in the Dr. John version of marathon training by Jeff Galloway and highlighted the experience with a quick mile...quicker for some than others.

John-7:45
Lily-8:30
Robert-7:01
Jonathan -cough- "230" -7:24

Not too shabby considering only Dad had been consistently running leading up to this morning. Robert nearly eclipsed 7 minutes, and would have, if he had worn a watch, and I had not been holding him back for the first 3 laps. I had felt pretty good about myself, spare tire and all. Here I was keeping up with an NCAA Student-Athlete. I was laboring, but all in all keeping it together. That was, at least, until we entered the back stretch of the third lap. When sweet Robert asked meekly, "do you mind if go faster for this final lap?" My heart sank as I mustered a weak, "sure" and then before the sound had dissipated in the certainly warming Fredericksburg November air, he was gone. My dignity the only thing going with him as he disappeared around the turn.

Well, the gun has gone off and the herd has started. We are westward bound. I am excited and inspired, and not just because I stepped on the scale the day AFTER Thanksgiving and it read...wait for it...225! Rather because this blog affords us the opportunity to share the highs, lows, laughs, tears (?), and mostly, the stories of our journey which may have begun from various places across the country, culminates in Seattle, WA.

See you there!