I’ve often written about the numerous awards and honors I’ve received for outstanding running performance. Below are a couple photos from previous ceremonies that left me with a range of feelings, from proud to being so touched that tears flowed like spigots wide open.

Because of the pandemic, I ran on my own for over a year before getting vaccinated. It hasn’t been that long since I resumed participating with running clubs. Not surprisingly, I’ve already moved into the winner’s circle, snagging yet another prestigious running award.

All my previous awards for outstanding running performance were self-awarded, and the ceremony involved just myself, alone at home. In no way, however, does this mean they were not legitimate examples of amazing and exceptional running performance.

In the below photo, I’m with the organizer of Runmas, Kayla Bishop, who presented the trophy I’m holding in my hand. Runmas is a Christmas yard-decoration scavenger hunt for runners. Several teams of 2-4 runners departed from Perry Street Brewing in Spokane with a list of things to find.

My Runmas award differs because I received outside recognition, and there were others present, though I’m not sure they were paying attention.

I’m truly proud how another facet of my running ability has been revealed. Earning the Best Holiday Attire award shows I’m not one dimensional.

No attention should be given to the fact that only a handful of people dressed up. Nor should you think Kayla’s outfit should’ve won her the award. That she declared herself ineligible also is immaterial.

In the days following my victory, I’ve been on cloud nine and can’t stop thinking how well I did. It’s so satisfying to sit at the table and stare at my trophy. I think this will occupy my afternoons at least until the end of the year.

President Joe Biden is proposing a big spending bill to upgrade infrastructure. However, no attention is being shown to a very big community – runners.

I’ve taken up the cause for funding running tracks, running trails, running clubs and importantly, subsidies to bring down the cost of post-run beer for running club members.

I traveled to Washington, D.C. to try to get a meeting with Joe Biden to pitch what I call, “Get a Run for Your Money” economic stimulus and infrastructure improvement plan.

My first stop was the White House. I felt a huge and solemn duty embarking on this quest as a single individual representing all runners nationwide. There are so many hopes resting on my shoulders.

Unfortunately, an armed guard told me it wasn’t time for meeting Joe Biden. Instead it was time for me to leave.

Right after this I found out he was joining a meeting at the Capitol building and was scheduled to be there for just half an hour. I immediately set a hot pace for the Capitol.

When I reached the Capitol building, I swore I could see the President at a window looking out. I gave a wave.

It appeared he noticed me because he stayed at the window, watching. I was hoping he’d come to the Capitol entrance to accept “Get a Run for Your Money” documents I had in my satchel, and listen to my short spiel about how badly runners need funding.

Unfortunately, a team of armed guards stopped me short of the entrance. Again, they told me it was not time to meet Joe, and that it was time for me to leave. In exchange, I made them take the “Get a Run for Your Money” proposal to give to the President. They said they’d absolutely do it first chance they got.

It’s been a few days since I got back from D.C. I know the President’s a busy man, and my hopes for funding runners has slowly waned. I knew it was a long shot, but we runners are worth it.

Then something really, really special happened. Yesterday I received the below letter in the mail:

NICE!!!!!

Last month, Bob Maplestone, who came from Cardiff, Wales to run college track and cross-country at Eastern Washington, died near Seattle. Because of a chance encounter on a city street, I got to know Bob.

Running through a north Spokane residential area with my best friends and high school cross-country teammates, Mike and Dave Dixon, we came to an intersection at the same moment as Bob Maplestone.

We recognized him right off. Before I’d even taken up running, Bob got a lot of media attention by winning the 1972 open mile at the Drake Relays, a prestigious collegiate track meet in Iowa. He set a meet record of 4:00.4 and beat the American record-holder, Jim Ryun.

Our chance meeting at the corner led to conversation in which we found out Bob lived just down the street. We mentioned we were high school seniors-to-be trying to keep our mileage up over the summer. Bob was weary of running alone and suggested we get together a few times a week.

So Dave, Mike and I regularly ran to Bob’s house, and we got in some good runs over the remainder of that summer.

After our season started, our training runs ended, but Bob came to watch our first cross-country meet of the season. I wouldn’t see him again for a few years.

Though track and field had a higher profile back then compared to now, its participants had to compete as amateurs. Unlike professional sports, the highest competition for a track and field athlete was the Olympic Games, and only amateurs were allowed. The money that athletes in other sports earned wasn’t possible in track. A couple instances illustrate how informal the sport was back then.

The same year Bob won the Drake Relays open mile, he won an indoor mile race in San Diego in 3:59.5. He was the first British runner to go under 4 minutes indoors. However, to get credit as the British record-holder, he had to get a signed official result from the race referee and send it to the governing body of British track and field. Bob didn’t know he had to do this, thus he never became the official record-holder.

Still in 1972, he ran a 3:39.7 1500 meters (3:57.2 mile conversion), just missing the British outdoor 1500 meter record and qualifying for the British Olympic trials.

Despite his fast time and being a favorite to make the Olympic team, Bob had to skip out because he couldn’t afford the trip back home.

However, I remember reading in the newspaper of a fund-raising effort on the Eastern campus to pay Bob’s travel expenses. It was successful, and Bob flew back and ran in the trials. However, I’m sure he felt he’d let everyone down. He lamented how lousy he’d run in finishing 4th, missing out on the 3-man Olympic team.

Bob had just finished his career at Eastern when we ran into him. He soon went on to Oregon State and earned a masters degree. After that he joined the faculty of Highline Community College south of Seattle and coached track and field.

When I was a student at Washington State University in the late 1970’s, I walked into a pub one Saturday evening and there was Bob sitting at a table. His Highline team had competed in a meet in Pullman, and he was headed home the next day. I joined him at the table, and though I can’t recollect what we talked about, I’m sure it was mostly running stuff.

Bob spent his career at Highline Community College teaching engineering. He was 74 years old.

I couldn’t understand what was going on when I checked the stats for the post Downside of Being Skinny which I thought I’d put up the day before. The date showed it was over a year old!

Bit by bit, I figured out what happened.

On September 30, 2019, I set out on a 12-mile run in my front yard wilderness area. I remember becoming very tired and sitting down to rest a moment. That moment turned into nearly 15 months.

When I awoke and came into the house, I was flummoxed, dumbfounded and befuddled. Why did I have a long beard, and how did I get so grungy? My living room door cam caught my entrance.

I went straight to my computer because I had wanted to check the stats first thing after my run. That’s when I saw the date and realized 15 months had somehow gone by. I checked my yard cam, and in this magnified image from August, I saw myself asleep in the front yard.

I went to the oldest file still available, last April, and there I am again, sleeping away. Looks like I changed positions from time to time.

There’s enough vegetation that neighbors and passers-by couldn’t make out there was a man sleeping on the ground. This has caused me to refer to myself as Rip Van Jimkle, a take on that famous forest sleepyhead, Rip Van Winkle.

A ravenous hunger struck, and I needed to eat. I fixed a quick meal and my kitchen cam caught me eating straight from the pan.

I’ve decided no more naps while running – I don’t want to go so long without doing a blog post.

I cut off my long beard and grungy locks and noticed how similar they were to moss. I don’t have any moss yet in my wilderness area, so I put them on a few trees. I think they add another level of wild to my wilderness area.

I was in a bar in Missoula, Montana three summers ago, and a guy noticed me and came over to tell me I’m a human skeleton.

That’s unusual behavior, and he didn’t appear drunk or condescending. I mentioned that I’ve always been thin, and after a short conversation, I got the impression he was an okay guy, even considering his remark. I figured he saw me at just the right angle, and it must have really struck him.

I could blame my father. When I graduated from high school, I was 6’0″ and about 145 lbs. (183 cm./66 kg.). I weigh only a bit more than that now. When my dad got out of high school, he weighed 155 pounds, but was 6’6″ (198 cm./70 kg.). That made him even skinnier than me. However, my dad is no longer the bean pole he once was.

Years ago, I consulted a trainer, increased my protein intake and lifted weights for a few months in an attempt to become less skinny. However, my body didn’t respond the way I’d hoped. My muscles became well-toned, but there was just a slight increase in bulk. I’ve since told a few people that this weight-lifting program allows me to say I no longer have ribbon arms. I’ve upgraded to pencil arms!

So I’m resigned to being skinny, or as I prefer to say, thin. Some people have told me I should eat more or put some meat on my bones. Even my mother has told me this multiple times, however, I prefer to eat the healthiest diet possible and not focus on filling out.

While it’s not so bad being thin, there are a few detriments.

At one of the running groups I attend, a woman once challenged me to arm wrestle. She is not petite, but nor is she muscular or bulky. I avoided emasculation, but it was a struggle.

Also, my arms are so skinny, my blood vessels don’t have enough room to fit inside.

And finally, you’d think only cows would have trouble crossing a cattle grate.

However, I do too. I’m so thin, I fall through the bars and have to wait for someone to come along and rescue me.

When I started I Must Run Everywhere, I made a lucrative arrangement with a local store, Runners Soul. I offered to promote the store by frequently wearing one of their caps.

I wore it often, both in blog posts and when running.

I truly felt like a big shot walking into the bank to deposit my monthly $5 check. How many people do you know get paid to wear a certain brand of clothing? None, I bet.

Several months later, the store told me sales had taken a dive since our arrangement. They asked me to stop wearing the cap. Those guys at Runners Soul are funny.

It wasn’t long before they called again. Sales were still plummeting, and some of my blog photos were not putting the store in a good light. They forwarded a couple examples.

They offered me $500 to stop wearing the cap. I couldn’t tell if they were serious, but when I walked into the bank to deposit that check, I felt very proud I’d increased my value from $5 to $500.

A few months later they said my slow race times and poor finishes were causing business to dry up. They pleaded and begged me to stop wearing the cap, offering $2,500 to put it away for good.

I can’t lie – when I walked into the bank to deposit that $2,500 check, I wasn’t just a big shot, I was an intensely, huge big shot.

Unfortunately, I kept forgetting to not wear my Runners Soul cap. Some photos I used may not have made them happy.

It wasn’t much longer until I saw this article in the news.

Whoops. My bad. Sorry, Runners Soul.

I don’t do New Year’s resolutions, but last year I resolved to not enter races in 2018.

A year ago I often did not feel well when running, and I’d become slow. Why enter a race when you’re slow?

But toward the end of the year, I entered a couple races. In this photo, I’m at top left, wearing a wig I’ve used many times since buying it in the late ’70s for skits at the summer camp I worked at.

The races raised money for groups in which acquaintances are involved and were costume-themed, so I didn’t race. I merely participated.

I wore a wig for both races, and I cannot stress how important and necessary it is to own wigs, especially if you are a man in your early-60s. It’s a wonderful feeling to toss your head to the side or use your hand like a comb to get your long, beautiful locks out of your face.

I broke my resolution last month when asked to run on a team for the USATF National Club Cross Country Championship that was held in Spokane. For this race, I opted not to wear a wig.

I started feeling better in the autumn, and my running improved to the point I was confident I’d be a benefit for the team and not astound others with a super slow pace.

Unbeknownst to me, most competitors in this race are elite runners. The winner of the men’s open race was Ben Blankenship, who made the final of the 2016 Olympic 1500 meters.

I was in the race for men 60 and over, also elite runners for their age. The winner – a guy same age as me, ran the 8K (5-mile) course at a 5:49 per mile pace. This is not too far off the pace I ran in road races in my 20s.

Myself and teammate Don Driscoll giving the course a look-over. Temps in the mid-20’s. (-4 C)

Don and I again in mid-race.

Here’s another example of the quality competition – a guy a little ahead of me had a bib for the 70-74 age group. In the last mile I pulled even. With a strong finish, I beat him by 4 seconds. My pace was 7:26 per mile. The guy I just managed to beat was 74 years old.

Despite finishing 71st out of 128 runners and beating only two runners my age or younger, the experience made me confident I can do well in local races since I’m at the lower end of my age group. I plan to enter lots of races, dominate my age group and win some intense medal ware. Then I’ll move on to my ultimate goal – winning the hand of a woman.

After amassing a trove of race medals, I’ll wear them in pubic and upon sight, women will be entranced by the glimmering display and enter a state of idolization. From a field of alluring candidates, I’ll choose one to be my new partner.

This post is a collection of facts with no theme. If you don’t like it and send an insulting email, I’ll track you down and make you listen to my daylong lecture on how to be polite.

I bought a pair of Skechers running shoes for the first time. They have memory-foam inserts which are very, very comfortable.

Now that I’ve indulged in such luxury, I might be just a step away from the next level. I’m thinking of switching out my 2-person camping tent for a 36-foot RV. And the front porch steps may soon be covered with a ramp for my new motorized wheelchair.

When I have things to do, I like to bike instead of drive, even when grocery shopping. This may seem mean, but I like to make my cat Gloopy lay on the sidewalk so I can run over and squish her as I leave.

Sometimes I ride with my arms folded, no hands on the handlebars. Once, a pair of very young kids saw me, and I overheard them expressing astonishment at the guy riding with no hands.

I did a one-day road trip in rural Idaho recently with two of my former college roommates. At one stop we happened to be next to a cattle guard. I’ve been wanting to do a short video for this blog in which I fall through the bars because I’m so thin. So I got my camera and asked my former roommate to film me.

It didn’t turn out the way I hoped. I need to set it up better.

Finally, I’ve been having problems with my refrigerator. Like anyone else, I thought the solution was hiring a repairman who would tear into it. Then I realized I’m like the person who thinks surgery is the answer for every medical problem.

Like alternative medical treatment for people, there are alternative repairs for appliances. I used electro-shock rebalancing (unplugging and plugging-in repeatedly), conversational healing (compliments and affirmations), and touch therapy (hugging).

Now my fridge purrs like the day I bought it.

If you made goals for running in 2018, toss them. If you’re failing miserably or on pace, it doesn’t matter. I have better ones for you.

Nearly all runners fail to make their goals running-based, which means using the letters that compose the word running. Since that’s 7 letters, that means 7 goals. They’re listed below, and I want you to start working on them immediately.

1. Roar 2. Unglued 3. Numbers 4. No way 5. Incredible 6. Never mind 7. Geeky

1 Roar – If you win a race, your age-group or run a good time, celebrate your success by really letting loose.

2 Unglued – If you fall during a race or run, and your running buddies keep going, putting their finish times ahead of your well-being, you’re justified becoming unglued. After your hospital stay, when your eyes land on those running shoes that flashed past as you lay on the ground bleeding, lay into them.

3 Numbers – if you forget to stop your GPS unit and rack up more miles after your run, treat yourself, and make your inflated total the official total.

4 No Way – Your answer when asked to do the relay leg that’s the longest, all uphill, passes through grizzly habitat, and was where last year’s runner was last seen.

5 Incredible – All you need to say when someone asks how you did in a race.

6 Never Mind – Do you need 3 running goals that start with N? No you don’t, so never mind.

7 Geeky – We’re all worried about looking cool when we dress to run. Undo the padlock and let your geekiness stumble out.

Sprint McDowell is suspected of burglary.

Sprint McDowell hosts Race to Win, an online quiz show for runners.

I carried Sprint’s online game show once in the blog post, Running lingo quiz, and he treated me very rudely in another post, I agree to an interview, and I get grilled. However, time heals and Sprint deserves my support. I did an online interview with Sprint from his Los Angeles studio yesterday. Screen shots are added.

Jim: Sprint, what happened?

Sprint: Management is making things up to get rid of me. They said I stole lunches from the employee break room. I’m very angry.

Jim: Did you steal them?

Sprint: No. I just took a few bites and put them back.

Jim: That’s shabby, Sprint, but it’s certainly not burglary, and it’s not grounds for termination.

Sprint: I’ll say! Management asked last month if I’d consider retiring. I said no way. Now this burglary accusation comes up.

Jim: I also hear they think you’re over the hill.

Sprint: You hit the head of a nail, Jim.

Jim: The phrase is usually put, you hit the nail on the head.

Sprint: Whatever. Management says I make bloopers like that all the time, but they’re wrong. Race to Win is the No 1 quiz show for runners because I’m the greatest host ever.

Jim: Sprint, did you recently message racy photos of yourself to a woman?

Sprint: What? I’m shocked and disgusted! Such an abominable claim has zero merit. In no shapes, forms or waves would I ever do that.

Jim: The phrase goes, in no way, shape or form.

Sprint: I have a phrase for you, Jim – down with gutter mouths! Your accusation sickens me. You have really gone too far this time.

Jim: Isn’t her name Catherine, and she lives in The Philippines?

Sprint: My God! How did you find out?

Jim: This is so sad, Sprint. Why would you do something like that?

Sprint: I was…you know…trying to entice her.

Jim: How’d that work out?

Sprint: She blocked me.

Jim: Okay, Sprint, let’s move on. I want to post a photo of the new host. I’m told it’s a done deal. She’s a talented, engaging personality who’ll make fans rave. And I know her. She and I are both Flying Irish runners here in Spokane. Her name is Becky Alcala.

Sprint: Jim, who’s side are you on?

Jim: Not yours, Sprint. This change should have happened long ago. Becky will raise Race to Win out of the fog and into the stratosphere. I salute her.

Sprint: Waaaaaaaa….waaaaaaaaa.