The Beat

Exactly six days from now, I will be running the Tucson Marathon. Yes, I’m actually doing it. Yes, I’m excited. Yes, I’m paranoid about somehow hurting myself between now and then.

This is it, folks. I’m setting out to accomplish one of my big goals. Assuming I don’t get run over by a wayward airplane or kidnapped for ransom, I will soon be able to call myself a marathoner. That’s such an awesome feeling, and it’s something that will never be taken away from me.

For quite a while now, I’ve been on a mission to prove doctors wrong. As I wrote in this article after my first half-marathon last May, I set out to show myself, and the world, that my life of foot and leg troubles wouldn’t stop me. I’m getting there: My name is forever in the official finishers lists of two half-marathons, as well as the Clarksburg 20-miler. Two weeks ago I ran 22 miles. (If you see a bunch of people running all over Lodi at insanely early hours on Saturday mornings, I’m probably in the crowd.)

I’m so close to the 26.2-mile milestone that I’ve already dreamed about it. In that dream, things didn’t go so well, so hopefully the reality is better. But even in that dream, I finished the marathon.

Layla is braver than I am. After reading this story, I counted my blessings that I was not shopping today.

Police say a Wal-Mart worker has died after being trampled by a throng of unruly shoppers shortly after the Long Island store opened Friday.

Nassau County police say the 34-year-old worker was taken to a hospital where he was pronounced dead at about 6 a.m., an hour after the store opened. The cause of death was not immediately known.

A police statement says a throng of shoppers “physically broke down the doors, knocking him to the ground.” Police also say a 28-year-old pregnant woman was taken to a hospital for observation.

The AP version of the story says that when the store was closed for a “medical emergency,” some shoppers refused to leave because they’d been waiting in line for hours to shop. How horrible.

Be careful out there, Lodians, and don’t let deals get in the way of some common decency!

For some reason, I went shopping on Black Friday again this year. (Last year’s report is here.)

I think I set a record this time. I was in and out of two stores by 6:28 a.m., just under half an hour after both opened.

I did wander over to Wal-Mart after that, but I soon walked out. I’ve learned over the years that there is a small window of time when everyone is still shopping and the cash registers haven’t backed up yet. If you miss that window, you’re going to be in line for a long time. That’s when you must decide whether to wait or go home. I could really use some new bedsheets, and a 500-count thread set was going for $20, but I didn’t see them in my quick stroll through the store. Instead, I saw lines snaking around the entire perimeter.

I was done. I’d knocked out two Christmas presents and gotten a couple inexpensive things for myself (if you see me in a gray vest, that was a whopping $8). It was 6:45 a.m. and I wanted to go running instead of standing in lines on my day off.

Considering that I was off work, I have no idea why I woke up that early. Actually, I do know why: I need to get Christmas shopping done; Black Friday is kind of a tradition for me; and I accidentally woke up on my own at 4 a.m. I think that means a fourth reason is that I’m insane. (I could have gone to Wal-Mart’s 5 a.m. opening and maybe gotten to the other 6 a.m. stores before things got bad, but I didn’t want to risk it.)

Just like every year, Staples was the easiest store. Target wasn’t bad, especially since everyone went toward the first cash registers, but the others had basically no lines.

Over the years I’ve gotten most of the Black Friday shopping down to a science. Don’t take coffee, because who wants to carry around a coffee cup and also look for a bathroom? Don’t use a shopping cart unless you’re getting an item too large to carry, because those awkward contraptions really slow things down. Don’t dress too warmly because you’ll be inside most of the time and won’t want to carry around bunches of jackets, scarves and gloves.

This year I found one more way to expedite things: I didn’t carry a purse. Phone, keys, credit card and driver’s license went in my pockets and I was free to power walk through the stores and carry items without fighting purse straps. I recommend it, ladies.

When it comes down to it, the easiest deal was an album from Amazon.com for $5. It was in MP3 form, so I just downloaded it and soon had a dozen songs. Yeah, that was for myself. My excuse is that I’ll listen to it on airplanes next weekend.

Last night, I watched a really interesting documentary called “Black Blizzard,” about the Dust Bowl of the 1930s on the History Channel (thanks, OnDemand!). While there are many periods of history I would not mind living during, the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl are definitely NOT on that list.

The show talked about the dust storms, called black blizzards, that swept across the Midwest during the Depression era, and some of the photos they showed — of a dust storm that covered the entire sky, of fields that looked like sand dunes after a storm, of cattle killed by the dust — were pretty scary-looking. Those photos, and the interviews with survivors who lost family to the storms, were the sad part.

The cool part, though, was when a team of scientists and an expert on the Dust Bowl managed to recreate a dust storm using fans and stuff. The historian stayed in a house sealed like they were during the Depression years with plaster and rags (even in closed up, sealed up houses, dust would get in and cover everything in hours). With a rag to breathe through, he only lasted 10 minutes, because the dust got so thick inside. With a modern mask like those worn by coal miners, he didn’t fare much better.

It would have been a pretty scary time to live through, as if a Depression was not bad enough. After watching that documentary, I have a lot of respect for the people who did live through it.

One more thing to be thankful for on Thursday!

Today, I got a package at work. Machelle, who works in the newsroom, shook the box in anticipation as she handed it to me. I get a lot of strange packages — boxes of seafood seasoning and even a leather whip (promotion for “Indiana Jones,” which editor Rich Hanner confiscated/stole). So I was curious when a large box from Parsippany, New Jersey arrived. Inside, was a small box of turtle-flavored Chex Mix bars.

Chex Mix bars, you say? Yep. They’re are caramel-covered corn Chex pieces, wheat Chex pieces, chocolate , peanuts and pretzels. I had one bar and handed them over to other unofficial food critics. We liked them, but probably won’t buy them because we don’t “need” them.

We were especially amazed that the product is General Mills brand. So, they could possibly have been made right here in Lodi, sent to Parsippany and then shipped back to Lodi, CA for $7.20. It’s just kind of funny to think about.

Click here to get a free Turtle Chex Mix Bar mailed to you. E-mail me and let me know where it was mailed from.

I’ve had a thing for penguins since childhood. “Mr. Popper’s Penguins” was one of my favorite books when I was very young, and even when I was not so young. More recently, I thought the documentary “March of the Penguins” was fabulous.

But I never imagined a drinking game for a documentary on penguins. I should have known better, since the Internet has everything. Play at your own risk. If you do play, let me know how it goes!

Apparently, back in March, Dr Pepper promised a free soda to every person in the U.S. if Guns N’ Roses released the album they’d been working on for over a decade before 2008 was over.

On Sunday, the album goes on sale, and the company is putting a coupon up on the Dr Pepper Web site for Nov. 23 only entitling the bearer to a free can of soda. That’s Sunday, but the coupon is good for a few months.

As a Dr Pepper addict, I felt it was only fair to pass this news along. Still, I think it’s pretty cool that the company would keep their promise, especially in these tough times!

The night before last I got to see ultrarunner Dean Karnazes speak in Stockton. (My co-worker Joelle Milholm wrote that article; I was just there on my own.) I last mentioned this crazy runner a year ago, when he had done one of his many running stunts. A year later, he’s running across a bunch of deserts and by this weekend will have been on seven continents in seven weeks.

This best-selling author and nationally lauded runner took time to drive from his home in San Francisco to talk to runners in Stockton. Incidentally, he got stuck in traffic due to a messy big-rig crash, and he said next time he’ll just run rather than drive.

It was fun to see someone I really admire, especially since he’s both a runner and an author. It was also quite inspiring. I don’t see myself ever wanting to run across the Sahara Desert, but I can certainly aspire to be as successful.

Pretend you just ran a race. It wasn’t a big race, but it was one that mattered, and you ran it pretty well but made a few mistakes, and you came in second or third. You friends tell you that you did a good job. What’s your response?

Would most people just say, “Thanks!” or would they say, “Thanks! Next time I’ll run harder, though! I think I could do better”?

It seems like most people take the second reply as a put-down to yourself and try to reassure you that you did fine, or assume you’re fishing for compliments. I’ve never thought it was a bad thing to recognize and work to improve your weaknesses, but I’m very curious about what everyone else does in a similar situation.

If you are a second-place runner, or you build a nice shed but the door hangs a little crooked, or you paint a landscape but the clouds look a little fake, is it okay to point out that slight improvement that could have made your performance better? Or should you simply keep it to yourself and thank people?

This weekend the News-Sentinel published a story I wrote about the 10-year anniversary since Cyndi Vanderheiden disappeared. Her body has never been found, though two men were convicted and one is on death row for multiple murders.

There’s something about anniversaries, whether they are good or bad. Cyndi’s family members were very aware of the 10-year mark, and they remember the traumatic details as though it were yesterday. I don’t think their memories will ever fade, because horrific things will stay with people for life.

In another anniversary, three decades ago today, more than 900 people died in what some have called the Jonestown massacre, the very public end of a religious group called the Peoples Temple. I knew about Jonestown, but the 30th anniversary has put the focus on it again, especially since I don’t live too far from the Bay Area, where the group had its church before going to Guyana, South America.

I think most have heard about people drinking poisoned punch in a mass suicide, but I hadn’t really thought of it as a mass murder. That’s how journalist Tim Reiterman sees it, especially since 200 of those deaths were clueless children, and not all of the people died by calmly drinking punch. His opinion counts: He was one of the journalists who survived an attack that killed his San Francisco Examiner colleague, several other journalists and Congressman Leo Ryan, the only Congressman to be murdered in office.

Reiterman’s story on the anniversary was compelling. I was also riveted by the first-person survival account of Rep. Jackie Speier, who was shot five times in the ambush that killed Ryan, her boss at the time. She played dead, then waited hours for help to come. Years later, she would suffer more tragedy, but she has gone on to take Ryan’s position in Congress.

And then there is the son of leader Jim Jones, who wasn’t at the compound that fateful day. He didn’t obey his father’s orders to commit suicide, but most of his family died.

Sadly, the Vanderheiden family will one day be marking 30 years since Cyndi disappeared. Like so many other families in so many senseless deaths, years go by but the dead do not come back.