I'm already looking forward to 2016.

After slurping down a hot plate of post-run spaghetti, I'm posting this blog from my couch waiting for the NCAA basketball men's final to start on TV. No matter who cuts down the nets at the end of the night, I think Houston claimed its fair share of winning as a host city this past weekend. None of the Final Four teams were from the region, but the organizers gave us locals a great draw with Bracket Town and the Big Dance concerts.

I like to think that the planners that transformed the lifeless old George R. Brown parking lot into the downtown oasis that is Discovery Green had big events like this in mind. Frankly, I didn't have high familiarity with any of the scheduled acts, so having them all at a free-admission festival presented a low-risk proposition for me. As it turned out, Panic At The Disco, Kings of Leon, Pat Green, and Kenny Chesney were all crowd-pleasers.

My Lenten commitment to abstain from Coke Zero was severely tested. Saturday's stage on a warm and humid afternoon was just one ginormous Coke Zero advertisement. And then during Sunday night's concert, perky Coke Zero reps were plying the crowd handing out as many free cans as they could.

While wandering the grounds, I couldn't help but notice that this was a big social media happening, especially among the college-age out-of-towners. I was even amused to see that the NCAA retweeted one of my comments from Saturday. And in a moment straight out of DamnYouAutocorrect, a group of Butler students standing next to us Sunday night gave us a good laugh when they realized their iPhones helpfully changed their status updates to say they were getting ready to see "Kenny Chesty" -- which sounds like a totally different kind of performer altogether.

Back to tonight, Kimba Walker of UConn just took the opening tip, so I'll wrap this by saying that I'm looking forward to seeing the Final Four return to town in five years. We've had such a good time that I wouldn't mind if this became a regular fixture on our spring festival calendar.

Bayou City Art Festival

The temps have been running about 10 degrees above normal for late March, so I really appreciated the cooling effect of the tree canopy at Memorial Park yesterday. I dropped in on the Bayou City Art Festival for the first time. A lack of gallery space at home or a fat wallet precluded me from bringing anything home (although I did linger at the Misrata watch tent). Overall, it was just like a stroll in a museum, except most of the artists don't care if you take pictures or approach their works with a beer in your hand.

What is the scoop on POOP?

This is the greeting we got when we came downtown to see Blue Man Group last night.

I've located one other blog post that claims this handiwork has been up since Friday night at the intersection of Louisiana and Prairie streets. Otherwise my Google and Bing searches haven't been fruitful.

Is this subversive advertising for a new show in the Theatre District? (Hey, I do see that Urinetown is coming in April.) Or is this a prankster making a commentary about the Birraporetti's that faces this sign across the street?

So, I offer this up to the blog community and ask if any of you know the scoop behind.

Shamrock Shuffle

After using the first half-mile of this morning's Shamrock Shuffle as a warm up walk, I decided to find out if my running legs had made the trip with me. My sister had come out for this event as well, and she turned out to be quite the pacer as I cruised all the way around the Rice University campus and back to Brian O'Neill's without needing another walk break to catch my breath.

Mile 1 -- 14:56
Mile 2 -- 13:16
Mile 3 -- 12:19
Last .16 mile --1:50
5K elapsed time -- 42:21 (per Garmin Forerunner 205, uncertified course)

When we reached the pub, Wendy from Ronald McDonald House Houston greeted me with what looked like a finisher medal. On a second glance, I realized that she was merely disposing of the remaindered kids' awards from last fall's Mogie 1K Walk. It will surely claim a place in my collection cherished equally alongside the Flying Pig and RNR San Antonio medals! At least it will make another cool Christmas tree ornament.

The weather today could only be described as Spring Spectacular, and with the 10 a.m. start, participants would have needed to check their SPF if it wasn't for the abundance of trees on the Rice campus. We did spot at least one Bayou City Classic 10K bib in the crowd, which proved my suspicion that doing both events in the same morning is actually feasible for the truly race-addicted.

And so, nearly five months after Park to Park, I'm simply tickled at the idea of having running events return to my weekends.

Rodeo Run DNS

I hate the idea of leaving loose ends on this blog, so I'm posting here to say that Rodeo Run didn't happen for me today. Honest, I was ready to go -- even if I walked every step of the 5K -- but a personal matter pulled me away from the start line at the last minute.

So once again I'm on the lookout for a comeback event. Yes, I can search on my own, but if you're inclined, feel free to post a comment recommending a spring 5K in the Houston area for me.

Spring in my step

Just like Eric Berger, I am taking the leap of faith in the cessation of frost for this season. I had brought home some warmth-loving marigolds from the neighborhood nursery and hung them out in my boxes as a welcome banner for spring.

The area wildflowers haven't emerged from their freezer burn yet, so I believe I have the only blooms for hundreds of yards around. I guess this is why the bees were partying at my place this past weekend. I hope there's no such thing as a hangover from binge nectaring.

Also this past week I've felt as if I'm reclaiming running as part of my life again. I've got jog intervals lasting as long as a mile out on the trail now. At this point my oxygen levels go into debt faster than the federal government and my knees have been praying for mercy towards the end of church service. It really is like starting all over again.

Here's a simple tip for beginners or (re-beginners): Simply imagine that your shoelaces are tied together. This has been keeping me from overstriding or trying to push the pace too fast. Also, if you trip and fall, you can tell people you're not clumsy, you're just really good at visualization.

For those of you who were following my Houston Running Calendar blog, I apologize for the lack of updates. Being sick had "taken my head out of the game" so to speak. A refresh for March and beyond is something I want to do very soon.

Personally, I am just happy to have a run event as a participant in my future again. See y'all at Rodeo Run -- giddyup!

YOU TURN IN TWO BLOCKS!

Marathon Sunday was threatened with Oh-My-Gosh T-Storm Weather. The committee had sent out an ominous, literally 11th-hour email the night before with a map pointing out 26.2 miles of course evacuation shelter locations -- mostly underpasses, hospitals, and supermarkets.

I remembered the similarly gloomy forecasts we saw in 2007 and went to bed with wishes for a repeat of that year. I largely saw them come true. In the four hours I was out volunteering for Houston Marathon course monitor duties, I had my umbrella open for less than 20 minutes. The precipitation was mostly a misting, and nary a thunderbolt flickered anywhere near my ninth-mile post on Montrose Boulevard.

I've seen the Houston Marathon on television, and I had pinned a number on for the hoopla for the past five years, but this would be the first time I've experienced the whole spectacle in one spot from start to finish.

I had read about the small contingent of walkers that creep out onto the dark city sidewalks before the starting gun. I greeted these eventually-non-official finishers shortly after 6 o'clock.The wheelchair racers provided the first real race adrenaline of the morning. A quarter past seven, they zipped past faster than I can pedal my Schwinn! Another twenty or so minutes later, the Channel 13 chopper appeared overhead as the press trucks led the way for the men's and women's lead packs.

After watching the elites and swift folk in tri-bikinis and track club singlets pass, it was time for our real work to begin as the mass pack arrived. Richmond Avenue is where the half and full marathon courses split. The 26.2-milers head straight, while the halfers turn around. To make this part smooth, we wanted the full marathoners in the right lane and half marathoners on the left. Otherwise, the area around the U-turn pylon could become a sweaty sneaker macro re-enactment of a particle collider in action.

We were cheering on runners just like everyone else standing on the curb. But when I saw a green or black bib in the right lane, it was time to gesture and holler:

"HALF MARATHONERS! YOU TURN IN TWO BLOCKS! MOVE TO THE LEFT! THANK YOU!"

Yeah, my badge was a license to yell this over and over, until I was going hoarse by the end of the morning.

The runners I was most worried about were the ones completely zoned out in whatever was playing in their headphones. Based on my experience, I have not figured out why anyone would choose to do this. First, headphones distract from being alert while running in the midst of a dense pack of hundreds of people. Second, it's not as if there's an absence of soundtrack: the course is generously dotted with live bands, encouraging spectators, live DJs and radio station vans.

Yes, runners, the people of Houston have come out to the streets early on a Sunday to show their love and support of you! Why shut them out and create a safety hazard for those running with you?

Okay, that's the end of my headphones rant. I feel like I've successfully vented now....

The grand variety of people taking part in Marathon Weekend continues to impress me. There was the early guy rocking the Scot-style with his blue-and-white St. Andrews Cross singlet. There were lots of folks in Katy Fit shirts that I made a point of giving an extra "Go Big Red!" There was the grey-haired woman who made my jaw drop with her "300th Marathon" shirt.

I am sorry that I never saw "Connie." I would have loved to see her reaction to this:

In the nine o'clock hour, the river of humanity tapered down to a dribble. Here was the back-back-back-of-the-pack -- those unlikely to make the course limit and walking slowly enough that we no longer worried about pylon pile-ups. We continued to encourage everyone, though, even the last ones holding the sweep truck back.

I thought the excitement had wrapped up until the fire trucks came screaming up the boulevard. I jumped to the assumption of a race-related medical emergency until I saw firefighters toting axes in and out of the Dirk's Coffee . (Does anyone know what happened inside the shop?)

Congratulations again to everyone who finished yesterday, whether it was your first or your 300th. I hope to be fortunate enough to be among you again soon.

Rolling out from scratch

The good news is that my feet haven't gotten too fat and my running shoes still fit. For the first time in many weeks I went for a trek on my dam trail. It was an hour-long walk punctuated with dots of jogging on the return. I don't think I'm all the way back to week-one-day-one stage of Couch-to-5K, but it certainly does feel a lot like I'm the too-heavy guy starting all over again.

Really, it's been a relief to see the weight creep back on again, because it's also a sign that I have an appetite again. When the duodenitis was at its worst -- a time I'll fondly remember as the Great Puke of 2010 -- food and I were in a period of estrangement.

I can't think of a better way to reconcile than a little fooling around in the kitchen. So this week I decided to experiment with homemade pizza, something I've been wanting to do since acquiring my beloved toaster oven with 12-inch-pie-pan-swallowing capacity. After adapting a dough recipe from the Food Network site, my first attempt emerged with a too-thick, doughy crust topped with a soggy mess of sauce. A couple nights later came beta version 2.0, where my goal was to thin out the dough and thicken the sauce.

After realizing that I didn't own a rolling pin, the improvisational center of my brain engaged and I ended up rolling this dough ball flat with a cold can of Coke Zero from the refrigerator. I won't be a competitive threat to Domino's but I can say that 22 minutes later, I was devouring a very-edible spinach-and-steak pizza. We must do this again sometime.

Today is the fifth anniversary of my first half marathon. Now those were the days -- 2006 was the last time the Houston Marathon event was under cap. People could actually walk into the expo on Saturday and register to run in the morning. Ain't that quaint? That was also back when I thought a finisher medal was the coolest trinket ever. (Today I still think they make really nifty Christmas tree ornaments.)

As I mentioned in my last post, I took the deferment option out of this year's Aramco half. But I plan to be out on the course on race day as a volunteer. So for those of you still running: Have a great race day and I apologize in advance if we inadvertently send you merging onto the Pierce Elevated.

Downtime

Sometimes I wonder about the attention my illness would have gotten in the medieval era. Would the doctors be preoccupied with draining excess "humors" or might a clergyman have been called in to perform an exorcism?

Thankfully, it's 2010 and the demon that's been possessing me turns out to have the modern name of Duodenitis. I'm making strides towards controlling the symptoms, but the ordeal has been leaving me feeling drained. Running is still absent from my life; I'm hoping to work back to at least walking regularly sooner than later.

Yesterday was the last day to exercise the option to defer registration for the Chevron Houston Marathon and Aramco Houston Half Marathon. I know it was the right thing to do, but clicking Submit was like swallowing bitter medication. My five-year streak of running on Marathon Sunday comes to an end. A new option for Houston this year, the deferment bargain means giving up eligibility to run 2011 in exchange for a chance to register for 2012 without being subject to the lottery. (In case you're wondering: No, the 2011 registration fee is not transferred to 2012. We would pay again. I did say "bitter.")

With some of the surplus time non-training, I've rediscovered video games -- specifically, the indie sensation Minecraft at the moment. Even in its pre-release state -- it just went beta today -- the open-world challenge to survive in a world of raw material and thrive through ingenuity has captured my imagination. I play enough in my living room that I added in a 3D graphics accelerator for the HTPC I built earlier in the year. I jumped on a sale at Fry's for a board with nVidia's GeForce GT430; it's low-end, but gives more than enough framerate firepower for this game. Maybe it'll be enough for that new Civilization release too?

Readers: Are you running Houston on January 30? If so, I'll be cheering for you! Until then, I'll get back to excavating the minecart tunnel I need for my underground rapid transit line....

(P.S. If you happen to be a "blockhead" and know of a newbie-friendly multiplayer server I should visit, fill me in!)

Timeout

Getting sick has become entirely too frequent for my comfort. So now I'm out to find a path to get myself right again.

My training for the Aramco Half has been close to mothballed. Last week I logged exactly zero miles running.

When this whole "mystery" is unraveled it will likely be post-worthy, but I'm not feeling ready yet to document details here. Meanwhile I'm still around, and came by to quench that self-obligation to not let this blog grow stale. (I'm sure my fellow bloggers understand!)