Armadillos??

Central Illinois isn't exactly known for its wildlife. Ok, I see many deer, a few fox, lots of coyotes, coons, and possum. But armadillo? The folks out west can appreciate this creature, but this is corn country, after all. And yet there is hope. I humbly submit this column from the Journal-Star:

"Move over, Asian carp: Peoria, beware the march of the armadillo.
That sounds more ominous than reality. Armadillos could arrive here permanently within a decade, but they're less a danger than a nuisance.
And, like the Asian carp, there's no stopping them. The armadillo's insurgence into Illinois is part of long-range movement that started long ago near the bottom of the globe.
"They've been moving north naturally," says Lynn Robbins, a biology professor and armadillo expert at Missouri State University.
An armadillo is the size of a large house cat, weighing up to 17 pounds. The mammals have sharp claws, long snouts and hard-shelled backs of bone.
Long native to South America, armadillos eventually pushed through central America and Mexico before stopping just north of the Rio Grande by the early 19th century. One reason for the lull might have been the abundance of natural prey in Texas, such as cougars, that scared off armadillos - the smart ones, at least.
Also, American Indians used armadillos for food and their shells. But by the mid-1800s, white settlers had pushed most Indians out of Texas, thus allowing armadillos to progress northward again, Robbins says.
Ever since, the critters have crept north and east. They've long had a foothold in Gulf Coast states, but they've even pushed into Nebraska, Kansas and Missouri.
Southern Illinois has hosted the creatures for several years. They've maneuvered as far north as Pike County, near Quincy.
Their survival in cold-winter states is remarkable. Armadillos don't hibernate, so in harsh weather they seek warmth and food (grubs and insects) under dense leaf cover in wooded areas, Robbins says.
Within a decade, armadillos could be in central Illinois, Robbins says. They might even be able to spread as far north as New York City. Over time, natural selection might favor hardier armadillos that can better withstand cold-winter states.
Don't worry about armadillo attacks: Even with their claws, they prefer to flee rather than fight. But as they forage for insects, they tunnel and terrorize lawns.
"They dig like mad," Robbins says.
It's hard to keep them away. Some folks try to ward them off with moth balls, while others sink wire fences a foot into the ground.
You can try to catch them, but they're quick, as Robbins and his students have learned.
"They're good open-field runners," Robbins says.
On the rare times Robbins has been able to snatch up an armadillo, he's never been hurt.
"If you pick them up, they'll poop on you," Robbins says.
That's a lackluster defense mechanism. So is their habit of leaping three feet straight up when scared. That tactic works well to startle predators, but it turns them into roadkill when spooked by approaching cars.
"It's hard to survive when they hit the bottom of an undercarriage," Robbins says.
And though armadillos are a food source in South America, that idea hasn't seemed to have caught on in the States.
"I've had some students (cook armadillos) for something different to do, but they report it's not very good," Robbins says. "(Armadillos) haven't developed a cult following, like possum belly."
Possum belly?

Puffball

Well, I've signed up for the McNaughton 50 miler in April. The earlybird fee saved me 25 bucks, so what the heck. I don't have any races planned between now and then, so I'll take it easy for a bit in the hopes of tamping back this current minor flare up of P.F., then ramp up again for the 50.

Fall is the absolute best time of year to be out running around here, so I'll door shorter stuff and enjoy the season, with some long ones mixed in. Went out to Farmdale this morning and did 2:15. We had a nice spell of rain last night about 3 a.m. and much of the low ground was mucky, and the hills on Schroll's were fairly mud slicked--so much so that I had to bushwhack around a few just to make it up. Saw a bunch of huge puffball mushrooms (http://www.mykoweb.com/cookbook/puffballs.html).

Nice to be out, although the right foot was a bit painful at times. Cooler temps this week, 70s during the day with cool nights.

Soundtrack: Iron and Wine with Calexico, "In the Reins"

Postrace

I've recovered pretty well from Howl. The slow pace certainly helps. The lack of doing long runs has left me more time to read!

I finished "Shark God" by Charles Montgomery last week. The author traces his 19th century missionary great-grandfather's route through Melanesia in search of the "last heathens" and real, true magic. He finds that "kastom," that is to say an amalgam of culture that relates to history, religion, ritual and magic, still runs thick amongst the island people. But the illusory "magic" that Montgomery seeks is only found when he's willing to look through the silty veneer of his own pre-conceptions and the mythologies that sustain kastom.

"It's faith, not veracity, that gives stories their power. And thus charged, stories confer power back on their believers, whether that power is simply the strength of certainty, spiritual clarity, or something more...But when you fall toward mystical thinking, when you rub up against the rough edges of it long enough, it can enter you like a virus, and the world changes. There is more danger, but there is more possibility. Events present themselves symbolically. They wrap themselves in magic rather than coincidence, and their circumstances assume direction and purpose."

I found this book a solid companion to Kotler's West of Jesus.

I'm about 100 pages into "To Care and Conquer" by Derek Leebaert. It's excellent, so far.

Postrace running has so far been short stuff. Just a few aches and pains linger, nothing serious. I'll probably hold off long runs for a few weeks, then get back on the trails with a slow ramp up starting around October, hopefully for the 50 miler in April at McNaughton.

Howl At the Moon 8 Hour

Rode down with Dave on Friday afternoon to Kennekuk Cove Park, just east of Danville. Pitched the tent and ate dinner, then walked part of the course, ended up taking about a 45 minute stroll to loosen up the legs, getting back in just in time for the beer to be tapped and get in some carbo loading with a few Beck's (!). The night was surprisingly cool, in the 50's, which made the camping comfortable--up at 5:45 to get ready and to the starting line by 7:00 a.m.

I was shooting for anything over marathon distance, considering my lack of long training runs this summer. The course at Howl isn't tough at all, one semi-hill at the start, some mostly grass double track areas, a bit of pavement, and some gravel access road. While the course is pretty, what made if fun were the people. Being a 3.29 mile loop, you're almost always running near someone. I never did get bored during my nine loops., chatting with other runners, enjoying the scenery and the weather, which touched the 80's but wasn't brutally hot at all.

I felt strong for the first seven loops, alternating run/walk, eating a little and drinking two bottles of fluid per loop, usually re-filling with 1/2 gatorade, 1/2 water at the 1 1/2 mile aid station. Some cramping had me pretty much walking the ninth loop, finishing a bit early at 29.6 miles. Kim and Keegan had showed up by that point, so I opted out of the last out and backs and hit the beer and food. This whole event is basically a big party. The Beck's alone got me close to the entry fee and the food is incredible--chicken, rice, greens, etc. What an awesome ultra, I'll definitely be back.

Soundtrack: Bruce Springsteen "We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions"

Catfish and Corn II

Lots of corn but no catfish. We spent yesterday afternoon plinking around the farm. Took a few pics with the digital.

Keegan and superdog Zoe on the two miles of trails in the back 15 acres.

Farm pond.

Two Bur Oaks.