If you’ve run The Boilermaker, or if you’ve ever been involved in any capacity, you’ll know what I am talking about. If you’re getting ready for your first time participating as a runner, spectator or volunteer, you are in for something really special. And if you haven’t experienced it yet, here’s a little taste of what you’re missing — my humble, tongue-in-cheek tribute to my favorite race. Continue reading
My second race of the year. Unbelievably, like the first, it was featured in Runner’s World for its extreme conditions. The craziness of my 2016 running season continued unabated in the sweltering heat of my third Vermont City Marathon.
I suppose I should be happy just to have survived the day, let alone cross the finish line. But me being me, I now have to try and deal with the fact that I ended up registering my worst ever marathon time (an unofficial 4:55) on a course where, exactly a year earlier, I had set a 3:46 PR.
As I’ve been saying, it’s been that kind of year.
My mojo-less winter turned into an equally uninspired spring. Then, as is so often the case, life got in the way. In the end, I had to change plans to run two different marathons and opted to go back to Burlington for a third successive year to run my eighth marathon.
Burlington is such a great race for so many reasons that I am in no way upset or disappointed that I am going back. Sure, it would have been nice to do something a little different for my spring marathon. But this year, going back to Burlington made sense, even though I am heading into taper week feeling anxious and underprepared. Continue reading
When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.
Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.”
But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel: ‘In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy. And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood, and fire, and smoky mist. The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood, before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day. Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ Acts 2:1-21
Diamond Head’s first album of new material in almost ten years has been greeted with nearly unanimous favorable reviews, and it’s not hard to hear why. New lead vocalist Rasmus Bom Anderson has breathed new life into the band, banishing the ghost of Sean Harris once and for all and, quite possibly, staking his claim as one of the great metal vocalists of recent years in the process. Continue reading
Remember when your parents gave you that speech about how hard they had it as kids? How they had to walk five miles to school and back every day. In a blinding snowstorm with snow drifts up to their eyeballs. Up hill. Both ways.
Those of us who ran the 2016 Syracuse Half Marathon will tell a similar story about this race in years to come to newbies, runners from warmer climates and just about anyone else who will listen.
Except what we say won’t be an exaggeration. It won’t have to be.
I would have been about seven or eight when I first heard the story of Robert the Bruce and the spider. I remember I was at Whitehall Primary School at the time and that I was very upset and frustrated about something, but the name of the teacher who told it to me and the reason for her telling it have long since passed from memory. I vividly recall, however, sitting next to her in a cloakroom full of coats and boots while she told me “a story about another Bruce.”
Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.” John 12:1-8
To celebrate the opening of Iron Maiden’s 2016 Book of Souls tour, here’s a flashback to 2010 and The Guv’nor’s review of their appearance at the Molson Amphitheater, Toronto, on The Final Frontier tour. Continue reading
Bruce Pegg 