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	<title>Coyotes recent blogs</title>
	<link><![CDATA[http://www.runnerspace.com/gprofile.php?mgroup_id=134&do=blogs]]></link>
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	<pubDate>Sun, 22 Nov 2009 10:48:22 +0000</pubDate>
	<webMaster>ross@runnerspace.com (Ross) </webMaster>
	<ttl>60</ttl>
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		<title>Coyotes recent blogs</title>
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		<title>Blog - Micah True</title>
		<link><![CDATA[http://www.runnerspace.com/gprofile.php?mgroup_id=134&do=blogs&do=blogs&blog_id=1788]]></link>
		<description><![CDATA[<p>I hustled up I-5 after work tonight to the Seattle Running Company store.&nbsp; Given the population of Seattle, I was expecting something on&nbsp;the order of REI....try Eugene Running Company.&nbsp; A regular "hole-in-the-wall" in a funky neighborhood&nbsp;just east of the highway.&nbsp; I walked in, found an unoccupied folding chair and watched the room fill up.&nbsp; My seat neighbor started some small talk, I asked if that guy up front was Caballo, he thought he was shorter....looked like him to me.....except he didn't have any hair..shaved bald.</p>
<p>The long haired store owner introduced the hairless&nbsp;Caballo Blanco.&nbsp; While an underproduced slideshow played on the wall, Micah True retold the story that lead up to the first race with the Raramiru (Tarahumaru is the grossly mispronounced&nbsp;interpretation heard by the early Conquistadors).&nbsp; Leadville 100 tales, lead to Copper Canyon tales which lead to....well, you know the story.&nbsp; Pics of a more hairy Caballo, Barefoot Ted, Scott, the crazy kids and the&nbsp;fleet footed&nbsp;Raramiru colored the&nbsp;room.</p>
<p>The book is a tall tale...like Paul Bunyan and Babe.&nbsp; Micah was an understated, though confident, story teller - kinda reminded me of somebody.&nbsp; Micah wanted to talk about culture and simple living, the audience asked him about shoes.&nbsp; When the questions were done, Micah slipped out the back....like a shy Raramiru.</p>
<p>Micah makes a living as a hiking guide in Copper Canyon, we're invited.</p>]]></description>
		<pubDate>Wed, 21 Oct 2009 05:15:03 +0000</pubDate>
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		<title>Blog - The Character of a Real Man-Quotes from John Wooden</title>
		<link><![CDATA[http://www.runnerspace.com/gprofile.php?mgroup_id=134&do=blogs&do=blogs&blog_id=1782]]></link>
		<description><![CDATA[<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;<strong><span style="font-family: book antiqua,palatino; font-size: x-small;"> I just got done celebrating the character of a good man.......Calvin Leitch.&nbsp;&nbsp; Take a look at the photos in the "Cal's Run-2009".&nbsp; They speak for themselves.&nbsp; This terrain has character beyond reproach and we all know why.&nbsp; It <span style="color: #993300;"><span style="color: #ff6600;">speaks</span></span> to who made it.</span>&nbsp; </strong></p>
<p><span style="font-family: book antiqua,palatino; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #ff6600;"><strong>Character is everything.........<span style="color: #000000;">read on.</span></strong></span></span></p>
<p><strong><span style="font-family: book antiqua,palatino; font-size: x-small;">Happy Birthday John Wooden, former Boilermaker great turns 99 years young.&nbsp; The greatest American coach in any sport is celebrating his 99th birthday this week.&nbsp;&nbsp; John Wooden was born on October 14th, 1910.&nbsp; He was a three-time all American at Purdue, and led Purdue to the 1932 National Championships as a player.</span></strong></p>
<p><span><span style="font-family: book antiqua,palatino;">&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: book antiqua,palatino;"><span style="color: #000000;"><strong>Here are some of Coach Wooden's most famous quotes:</strong></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: book antiqua,palatino;"><span style="color: #3366ff;"><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>1.--You can't live a perfect day without doing something for someone who will never be able to repay you.&nbsp;<br /></strong></span><br />2.--Winning takes talent, to repeat takes character.&nbsp;<br /><br /><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>3.--There are many things that are essential to arriving at true peace of mind, and one of the most important is faith, which cannot be acquired without prayer.<br /></strong></span><br /><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>4.--The worst thing about new books is that they keep us from reading the old ones.<br /></strong></span><br />5.--The main ingredient of stardom is the rest of the team.<br /><br /><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>6.--Talent is God given. Be humble. Fame is man-given. Be grateful. Conceit is self-given. Be careful.<br /></strong></span><br /><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>7.--Success is peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best you are capable of becoming.<br /></strong></span><br />8.--Never mistake activity for achievement.&nbsp;<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">9.--It's what you learn after you know it all that counts.</span>&nbsp;<br /></strong><br />10.--It's not so important who starts the game but who finishes it.&nbsp;<br /><br />11.--If you don't have time to do it right, when will you have time to do it over?<br /><br /><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>12.--Don't let what you cannot do interfere with what you can do</strong>.</span>&nbsp;<br /><br /><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>13.--Be more concerned with your character than your reputation, because your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are.<br /></strong><br /></span>14.--Ability is a poor man's wealth.<br /><br />15.--I'd rather have a lot of talent and a little experience than a lot of experience and a little talent.<br /><br />No wonder&nbsp;that he is considered the greatest American sports coach of all time?<br /><br />Happy Birthday Coach.</span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: book antiqua,palatino; color: #000000;">Thanks John Wooden, I needed to hear these.</span></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: book antiqua,palatino;"><span style="color: #3366ff;"><span style="color: #000000;">Chaser</span><br /><br /></span></span></span></p>]]></description>
		<pubDate>Mon, 19 Oct 2009 14:57:25 +0000</pubDate>
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		<title>Blog - Half Moon Harold at it again...</title>
		<link><![CDATA[http://www.runnerspace.com/gprofile.php?mgroup_id=134&do=blogs&do=blogs&blog_id=1750]]></link>
		<description><![CDATA[<p><img src="members/photos/4874/60958_full.jpg" alt="" width="620" height="277" /></p>]]></description>
		<pubDate>Wed, 30 Sep 2009 14:01:16 +0000</pubDate>
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		<title><![CDATA[Blog - Gettin&#039; Railroaded]]></title>
		<link><![CDATA[http://www.runnerspace.com/gprofile.php?mgroup_id=134&do=blogs&do=blogs&blog_id=1748]]></link>
		<description><![CDATA[<p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong><span style="color: #0000ff;"><strong></strong></span></strong></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size: small;"><strong><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #0000ff;"><span style="font-size: medium;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The Precious Birdlegs&nbsp;Gazette</span></span></span></strong><span style="color: #0000ff;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</strong></span></span></span></p>
<div><span style="color: #0000ff;"><span style="font-size: small;">&nbsp;</span></span><span style="color: #0000ff;"><strong>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span style="font-size: x-small;">Vol. 1, No. 4</span></strong> </span>
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<div><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Well I'm running down the North-South UP Railroad line............you know, the tracks.</span></strong></div>
<div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>Don't know why I really like running the tracks........seems like I always have.</strong><strong></strong></span></div>
<div><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">I do know that anytime I take my eyes off them and try to look around at the scenery, </span></strong></div>
<div><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">I stubb my toe on a tie.&nbsp; I've even taken a couple of headers and gotten kryosote on my nose............even cut my achilles tendon while running down these wandering trails of steel........but that's another story.&nbsp; </span></strong></div>
<div><strong></strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></div>
<div><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I guess there are certain things that happen in your childhood, that&nbsp;mold you without your knowing it until years later.&nbsp; Today as I am&nbsp;track tramping I am suddenly remembering&nbsp; the name, "sonny boy", the name Grandpa and Grandma gave me in my earlier years when I was about 5 or 6 years old.&nbsp; Dad and Mom, who were active musicians were away a lot.&nbsp; At times I would end up staying with Grandpa and Grandma Chase here on Garden Way.&nbsp; </span></strong></div>
<div><strong></strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I remember feeling lonely and sad at times..............and at night I would cry and whine, non-stop..............sort of on purpose.&nbsp; Grandma would ask, "what's the matter sonny boy?"&nbsp; </strong><strong>I didn't really know what was the matter.&nbsp;&nbsp;</strong></span></div>
<div><strong></strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></div>
<div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; So, out of desperation, they would take me, whining and wailing, to the train station to watch the train come in.&nbsp; To their amazement, that would always shut me down.&nbsp; I was awe struck by the huge locomotives that made me and the ground vibrate........and those tracks seemed to go forever as I peered down them.&nbsp;&nbsp; </strong><strong>I always wondered what was down there.&nbsp;&nbsp; Our trips to the station got to be routine because I learned just how to make them happen.</strong></span></div>
<div><strong></strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></div>
<div><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; A few years later, I began to walk on them, and later, to run on them.&nbsp; I liked the unique look of the landscape around them because they went where roads didn't.&nbsp; They seemed more wild and adventurous&nbsp; like a hiking trail............and it was quiet, except when the train came.&nbsp;&nbsp; Then GIANT THUNDER roared as locomotives, railcars, and cabboose approached me and hurled on by, then faded out like a slow fade at the end of a song.............then, quiet again...........just me and the tracks.&nbsp; I still get a thrill when they rumble by,&nbsp; throwing a hat-stealing headwind in my face as I run along the service road.</span></strong></div>
<div><strong></strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></div>
<div><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A few months back, I ran from Garden Way, out past Noti, Oregon on&nbsp;the rails.........crossed a couple of small trestles and a bridge over water.&nbsp; No, it wasn't "troubled water", it was just a slough.&nbsp; I ran until I couldn't run any farther...........that was about 23 miles.&nbsp; I finally got off the tracks and stopped at the home of some friends.&nbsp;&nbsp; They generously offered me some lunch while shaking their heads in disbelief.&nbsp; </span></strong></div>
<div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>&nbsp;&nbsp; I couldn't believe it either except for the pain in my foot............you know, "trackfoot".&nbsp; After a short visit with them and some "thank yous", I hitched a ride back home with my bride who faithfully had come to pick me up...........you know, she's the one who calls me her hero when everyone else calls looney.&nbsp; Maybe so</strong><strong>..............I've run tracks in California, Colorado, </strong><strong>New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusettes, and Oregon.&nbsp; The only thing that kept me off the tracks in Taiwan last year was the electricity!</strong></span></div>
<div><strong></strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></div>
<div><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I routinely run this Union Pacific route as part of my daily workouts......like today.</span></strong></div>
<div><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">Grandpa and Grandma never knew what they started, but their "sonny boy" loves running the RR, and living in their old farm house where he can hear the train nightly, making it's way down the tracks beside the river and around the next bend.&nbsp; </span></strong></div>
<div><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">I don't whine anymore, but sometimes I whistle.&nbsp;&nbsp; Well, it's time to get off,&nbsp; </span></strong></div>
<div><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">I hear a bigger whistle coming.</span></strong></div>
<div><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span></div>
<div><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">Chaser</span></strong></div>]]></description>
		<pubDate>Tue, 29 Sep 2009 03:51:25 +0000</pubDate>
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		<title>Blog - The Anniversary Unaware</title>
		<link><![CDATA[http://www.runnerspace.com/gprofile.php?mgroup_id=134&do=blogs&do=blogs&blog_id=1730]]></link>
		<description><![CDATA[<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"><a href="profile.php?do=photos&pg=1&member_id=4883&album_id=-2&photo_id=56138&offset=0#photo"><img src="members/photos/4883/56138.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">&nbsp;</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">D. H. Lawrence wrote that &ldquo;every year you pass an anniversary unaware: the <br />anniversary of your own death.&rdquo;&nbsp; <strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">From Deep Survival</strong>;<strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Who Lives, Who Dies, and Why, </strong><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>by Laurence Gonzalez.</span></p>
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<p><span style="font-family: "><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp; </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Sure, we do it in our ordinary lives, too- you can get killed on your&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>lunch break- but we do that blindly.&nbsp; In our adventures, we engage fate&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>deliberately.&nbsp; We choose a relentless and indefatigable opponent, while<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>others pretend to be safe.&nbsp; We feel that our experiences are much more&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>real, while seeing the masses as deluded in their complacency.&nbsp; </span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: "><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">When&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>well-trained people are fetched off by fate during a well-planned and&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>thoughtful expedition, there is no more ignominy in it than when an&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>ordinary Joe gets hit by a bus.&nbsp; No one says "He shouldn't have been&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>walking there."&nbsp; But a climber named Karl Iwen, unfamiliar with Three<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>Fingered Jack, a volcanic mountain in Oregon, which he was descending,&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>left his companions, left the trail, left his ice ax strapped to his pack,&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>and ventured out onto the snow, where he treated his companions to a&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>spectacular show as he slid into the couloir and did a 600-foot Peter Pan.&nbsp;</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>Karl did not die doing what he loved.&nbsp; He died of poor impulse control, or&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>what I call "the rapture of the shallow."<br /><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>The perfect adventure shouldn't be that much more hazardous in a real&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>sense than ordinary life, for that invisible rope that holds us here can<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>always break.&nbsp; We can live a life of bored caution and die of cancer.&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>Better to take the adventure, minimize the risks, get the information, and&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>then go forward in the knowledge that we've done everything we can.<br /><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>No, some people would rather not see it, but the bull is there for all of&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>us.&nbsp; Some of us choose to pass the cape in front of its horns.&nbsp; To live&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>life is to risk it.&nbsp; And when you feel the rush of air and catch the stink of hot breath in your face, you enter the secret order of those who have <br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>seen their own death close up.&nbsp; It makes us live that much more intensely.&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>So intense is it for some that it seals their fate; once they've tasted&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>it, they just can't stop. And in their cases, perhaps we have to accept&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>that the light that burns brightest burns half as long.<br /><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>I do adhere to what my daughter Amelia calls the Gutter Theory of Life.&nbsp; It goes like&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>this:&nbsp; You don't want to be lying in the gutter, having been run down by a <br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>bus, the last bit of your life ebbing away, and be thinking, "I should&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>have taken that rafting trip..." or, "I should have learned to surf..."&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>or, "I should have flown upside down- with smoke!"<br /><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>Pete Conrad was the third man to walk on the moon.&nbsp; He died in a&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>motorcycle accident on an ordinary day.&nbsp; It took him a while to die as he&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>went to the hospital.&nbsp; I wonder what he was thinking.&nbsp; I hope it was:&nbsp; I <br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>did it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp; </span>I took a risk.<br /><br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span><strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Laurence Gonzalez, from Deep Survival</strong><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" /><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" /></span></span></span></p>]]></description>
		<pubDate>Fri, 18 Sep 2009 03:58:17 +0000</pubDate>
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