by Adolfo Salgueiro | Oct 4, 2022 | List, Opinion, Personal, Reflection
By Coach Adolfo Salgueiro
When I started thinking about my running pet peeves, my first though was: “what tin the world is a pet peeve?” Well, according to the Oxford Dictionary, it is “something that a particular person finds especially annoying.” Merriam Webster defines it as “a frequent subject of complaint.” While the term it is rooted in the XIV Century word “Peevish,” the term as we know it today originated around 1919. I haven’t finished the first paragraph and I already went on a tangent.
We all have pet peeves in our lives and running in no exception. We are all annoyed by certain behaviors by certain runners at certain times in certain situations that we happen to find particularly irritating. And, since pet peeves are by definition, individual, here are mine. Maybe we share some of them.
I am not trying to be mean or condescending here. But, since I am talking about what annoys me, please forgive my tone.
There is a reason why this is listed #1 in my list (Photo: Matheus Bertelli, Pexels)
1. Runners with loudspeakers: I don’t understand why in the age of light weight headphones, Bluetooth air pods and bone conduction headphones we must put up with runners carrying loudspeakers. How can anyone assume I want to listen to his/her music while I run? This is regardless of my liking or not of their choice of music. Do you like to run with music? Great! Keep it to yourself.
2. 5K Marathons: Marathon is a fixed distance, not a multitudinous foot race. A marathon is 42,195 meters as measured in the metric system or 26.2 miles if you prefer the imperial system. If referring to things by fractions of a unit (half marathon, quarter pounder) is appealing to you, I suggest expressing the distance as a tad above 1/9th marathon, 5/42nds of a marathon or 11.85% of a marathon. Other than that, it is just a plain and simple 5K.
3. The Full Marathon: Because of the booming popularity of the half marathon distance, talking about “the full marathon” has become a thing now. The entirety of a unit should not be preceded by the qualifying full, as it is implicit unless stated otherwise. A full marathon is just a marathon. Yes, petty, I know, but it does bug me.
4. Finish line shoppers: With your race entry you get to take part on the post-race spread as well as access to whatever the race sponsors have to offer. This doesn’t mean supermarket day. All runners that also paid and should have access to what’s offered. We’ve all seen runners with cases of hydration products, boxes of cookies and entire pizzas. Come on!!!
5. Oversharing on social media: Sure, you’re proud of your race result, or you want to receive accolades for your PR, or long run while preparing for your marathon. Yet, we don’t need to know about your half mile on the treadmill, or the two-mile brisk dog walk around your neighborhood. Unless these are true personal accomplishments, of course.
6. Running fast on recovery days: Our body doesn’t get stronger when we complete a long run, or when we nail a hard speed workout. Quite the contrary, it weakens. It is when the body repairs from that effort that it gets fitter and stronger. You won’t see the benefits of today’s hard workout for at least 14-21 days. So, make sure you recover on recovery days. Hence the name.
Is this really appropriate when you have over 40,000 runners around you?
7. Racing in bulky costumes: I dislike the clowning of the bulky costumes. As if running a marathon wasn\’t tough enough, certain runners make a mockery of it by doing this stuff. Sure, you can have fun dressed as Superman, a caveman or Pheidippides. The problem is with the bulky ones that restrict movement or view. Organizations like the London Marathon unfortunately encourage this behavior. When someone gets seriously hurt, it will stop being funny and by then, it will be too late.
8. Skipping runs because your watch ran out of battery: The watch is not the director of your running life; it is only the record keeper. The fact you missed recording one session is not going to diminish your health, your fitness returns or your ego. Hit the road and make sure you don’t run out of battery the next time.
9. Ruining other runner’s race photos: We all love race pictures, and they are ubiquitous these days. You want to look good for the photographers, and that is great. But must you go out of your way, cross the racecourse cutting runners, or jumping in between a runner and a photographer so you can have an extra pic?
10. Rude Runners: Do I need to explain?
What are your running pet peeves?
by Adolfo Salgueiro | Jul 12, 2022 | Article, Opinion, Personal, Reflection
By Coach Adolfo Salgueiro
The latest issue of Runner’s World magazine (Issue 4/2022) had a special report titled “Music Makes You a Better Runner”. They ran 17 articles on the subject and, and to be honest, the whole thing was disappointing. Underwhelming. Most articles dealt with anecdotal stories on music saving runners, or helping them overcome obstacles, or getting them hooked on the sport. Sure, they are nice tales, but, for my taste, the overall report lacked substance.
The latest edition of RW has a special report on music making you a better runner. I was not impressed by it.
RW touched on building a play list, the history of music devices from the Walkman (1983) until today’s GPS watches, apps where to listen to music, podcasts and, as you may expect, a list of the best gadgets currently on the market to enhance your running-with-music experience.
In the 20 pages of their special report, they only dedicated 24 column-inches (3.5% of the space) to studies on the benefits (or lack of them) of listening to music while you run. And those mentions are buried in an article about building the right playlist.
Even though running with music is not my thing, I’ve done it at times, and I certainly am not opposed to it. What bothers me is that a magazine like Runner’s World uses 20 pages on the subject and there is not a single mention of the opposite point of view. There must be someone out there who doesn’t think running with music is the best thing since sliced bread. Based on these series of stories, the only conclusion to take is: “I better start listening to music if I want to become a better runner”, and that is categorically untrue.
With my rant over, this is my personal take on running with music:
1 – It is a personal choice: We must respect every runner’s personal decision to listen to music or not. I run how I want, and they run how they want. There is not a single right way to do it. Now, understand that purposefully impairing one of your senses because of the music could put you and others in danger, so, read #2.
2 – You are not alone out there: If you are the one running with music, it is your responsibility to realize you are not alone out there, so you must be aware of your surroundings to keep yourself and other runners safe. You shouldn’t expect the outside world to be on the lookout for you and your safety just because decided to wear headphones.
3 – Don’t miss out on a marathon start: We’ve all seen runners with bulky, noise-cancelling headphones during our races. Nowdays it is all about tiny air pods. What I can’t seem to fathom is runners missing out on the energy, the camaraderie and the experience of starting lines such as New York, Berlin, Chicago or Boston, because they are immersed in their music. Seems to me like they wish they could be alone somewhere else. I always recommend that runners absorb the experience and then, once they are in a rhythm, use music if they need it.
4 – Learn to enjoy your own company: Give running musicless a try and at least figure out if you can enjoy it. Don’t just assume it is impossible for you to run if you don’t have something blaring in your ears. Who knows, maybe you will enjoy time with yourself, with your thoughts, listening to the pounding of your shoes or just watching the time and the landscape pass by. This way, when you do listen to music, it could be even more powerful.
5 – Do not carry the phone in your hand: It is a bad habit that could lead to injury, because clutching something in your hand will mess up your arm swing, and thus, your counterbalance. Nope, Runner’s World didn’t even mention this critical issue. I recently wrote a blog post about it. You can read it by clicking here.
One more thing: If you need a song equivalent to a shot of adrenaline in your heart, I invite you to check Everdream, by Nightwish. It was my go-to song during the brief time I finished my long runs with music.
by Adolfo Salgueiro | Mar 8, 2022 | Article, Personal
Edited by Coach Adolfo Salgueiro
As runners we have all experienced the ecstasy of triumph and the agony of defeat. It could be the thrill of a PR, a surprising podium, the misery of bonking when you started too fast or just hitting the wall. Maybe the unexpected happened and we had to resort to creative, unorthodox measures that in retrospective we are not proud of, but at the time seemed perfectly valid.
Here are some of those stories. Somehow, I believe there will be more than one of these posts, so I added the “Part 1” to the title.
Sue Behrens
A1A Half Marathon 2022
Ft Lauderdale A1A Starting Line 5am.
With a medal but without a key fob
I like to run in a Lululemon skort which is a skirt with shorts. The Lulu skort is well designed with a pocket on each leg and that’s where I stash my phone. There is also a smaller zipped pocket at the center back of the waist perfect for keys and gels. Pre-race, like about everyone else, I get in line at the porta-pottys and that’s where things took a dive. Each line was at least 5 deep and once it was my turn, there was complete darkness inside.
As I pulled my skirt down, I found my bib was not only pinned to my tank but also to the skirt! I had to contort so I wouldn’t rip anything. Straight to business thinking I would re-pin once out of the porta-potty and back in the streetlight. When I pulled everything back up, I heard a bang and felt the seat ride up with my skirt. Panicking I felt for my phone and thankfully it was still in the side pocket. Thinking I dodged a bullet I stepped out and the next runner hopped in. I re-pined the bib and joined the crowd awaiting the start. While downing my energy gel I reached back to check on my car key fob and the zip pocket was empty. Unzipped and empty. Crap! literally crap as I realized that the bang, I heard was my car remote dropping into the pitch-black porta potty. UGH! Panic, what to do?
As race start was minutes away and the lines now doubled, I had no choice but to be positive and get the run done. The plan was to locate the Lost and Found after the run and then check each stall when the lines were lessened. Hoping that the fob fell onto the floor and not into the bowl. No such luck. It must have fallen into the bowl. No fobs were turned in, so I had no key. Thankfully, I’m local, one town south and my husband was able to grab the spare fob, drive it up and hand it off to me after the race. From what I have researched it going to be at least $300+ to replace, making this most expensive half marathon I have run!
Rube Urieta
Space Coast Marathon 2015
Kindness from a stranger at Mile 17
My first mistake was to believe I could run a marathon without proper training. So, needless to say my legs started cramping up after mile 13. This continued on an off. However, close to Mile 17, both legs cramped so bad, I fell to the side of the road. At that moment, many things came to mind, like am going to be the first runner to be picked up by the emergency golf cart, or can my legs unlock from this painful situation. And while this thought was rushing through my head, suddenly, a female runner stopped and asked: “Are you OK?”
After explaining my situation, she told me to open my hand. She proceeded to pull out something from her belt and sprinkled it into my hand. Then she told me to lick it and reassured me it I was going to be able to stand up and continue. Right there, I realized she gave me salt. The lack of sodium caused the whole situation.
When I tell my friend about my ordeal, they often ask me: how can I trust a stranger to give me something and just taking it so blindly? My answer is: “In this sport you know people, young and not so young, with diverse backgrounds and goals. Some of them have been running for years, some only for weeks. However, we runners tend to trust each other. And to that fellow runner that helped me out, back in 2015, thank you for spreading the sportsmanship.
Adolfo Salgueiro
NYC Marathon 1983
Another version of Seinfeld’s “The Marble Rye”
It was my second marathon and at 18, I thought I knew everything. So, I did not have breakfast before the race, never considering the 10:30 AM starting time. It was a cold and rainy day for an undertrained, young runner. Around 2:30 PM, being awake for about 10 hours and after 20 miles of running, I was starving. This was an era before gels and chews. So, as I was walking, defeated, down 5th Avenue towards Central Park, I saw among the spectator, a kid, maybe 7, with a big, hot pretzel that looked like heaven.
I resumed my running and approached the sidewalk, yanked the pretzel from the kid’s hand, and then ran into the crowd of runners as fast as I could so I couldn’t be identified or caught. I am not proud of this but somehow, I was able to justify the dirty deed. The carbs and calories allowed me to get a second life and finish the race.
When I ran New York 34 years later (2017), I thought of that kid as I was running towards Central Park. He must be now in his early 40s and hopefully has an interesting story to tell about cheering in the marathon.
There are plenty more stories out there that deserve to be preserved. Do you have one? Please email them in 250-350 words to foultips.running@gmail.com, or leave them as a comment here, and I will be publishing additional chapters of this saga, very soon.
by Adolfo Salgueiro | Feb 15, 2022 | Article, Personal, Reflection
By Coach Adolfo Salgueiro
The biggest and most important event in the South Florida racing calendar is the Miami Marathon and Half Marathon. In 2022 it ran its 20th edition. A must for all local runners and a destination run for international runners, especially from Latin America. Even though the field was reduced to “just” 15,000 due to Covid restrictions, it was nevertheless, a great race.
Free race pictures are a staple of the Miami Marathon. At least I got a good one to cap the sufferfest
As the name states, the race has both marathon and half marathon distances ran simultaneously. They separate around mile 12.5. I cannot say much a about the marathon because I have never run it. As for the half, 2022 was my 11th consecutive participation in the event.
The expo took place in the newly renovated Miami Beach Convention Center. The bib pick up was quick and easy. The expo was packed with vendors of every kind, with diverse samples of drinks, foods, gels, food services and electrolyte concoctions. You could also find shoes, shorts, socks and the newest gadgets. Stands for many international races were present. Even a coaching service where you could talk with an actual Olympic marathoner. For the first time, I saw free haircuts. Go figure!
In general, the race ran smoothly. Gear check was impeccable, signage was good and there were plenty of porta-pots. No urinals around, though. I still can’t figure out the logic behind the opening of Corral H. While the race started at 6:00, the gate to corral, inconveniently located in front of a row of porta-pots, remained closed past 6:15, as thousands of runners congregated in front of an empty corral. Other than to annoy runners on purpose, I can’t figure out any other reason for this to happen.
The half marathon course is always a delight, running by the cruise ships as the sunrise bathes the runners with sunlight while they enter the world-famous South Beach. Then through Miami Beach, followed by the spectacular views of the city on the way back to Downtown and the finish line.
A nice medal to commemorate the 20th edition of the Miami Marathon and Half Marathon.
The sour note was the screw up at the water stations. How can a race of this caliber and in its 20th edition, f-up the water stops so badly? When I stopped for water the first time, I picked the left side of the road, only to learn that it was the “Gatorade side”. This meant that if I wanted water, I had to cross the street while I had thousands of runners coming at me. And this happened more than once. At Mile 6, the water stop was abandoned and after that, a handful of stops did not have enough cups readily poured. This on a day with 93% humidity.
MY RACE
On the personal side, my race was terrible. Despite the fact this was my 11th time running the half, and my 43rd half marathon, I made many mistakes, many of them rookie blunders, which guaranteed me a forgettable sufferfest.
It started when I woke up at home and went to eat a bagel, only to realize my wife served me the last one for breakfast, the day before. It was my mistake not to ensure there was one available, and I assumed it. I didn’t bother to check the weather and the humidity caught me by surprise. Then it was the issue with the corrals, which got me in a bad mood just before the race.
Because I had ran the Houston Marathon three weeks earlier, I thought that half was a done deal, and didn’t even bother mentally preparing for the task at hand. I found myself at the starting line not even sure what I wanted to do with the race. I knew I wasn’t going to push and that I just wanted to have fun, but never bothered to review what that really meant or how get it accomplished. By the time I found no water at Mile 6, I had already bonked mentally. I didn’t go fast nor was I tired. I just didn’t feel like I wanted to run another 7 miles.
All that is on me. They were my mistakes. I can’t blame anyone else. I was cocky, overconfident and acted like a teenager who thinks he knows better than anyone. I paid for it.
As I tell the athletes I train, bad days, mistakes, failure and poor races are important to experience because they will give you invaluable experience that can only make you a better runner. I learned my lesson: never underestimate any distance, regardless of how many times you’ve ran it.
One of the remarkable things about the Miami Marathon is that it includes free photos for all the runners. I got was an amazing image from the culmination of my sufferfest. Final time was 2:33:27, by far my worst running half.
Did you run in Miami on February 6? Please share your experiences with the readers by leaving a comment.
A nice medal to commemorate the 20th edition of the Miami Marathon and Half Marathon.
by Adolfo Salgueiro | Jan 25, 2022 | Article, Coaching, Personal, Reflection
By Coach Adolfo Salgueiro
On Sunday, January 16th, I participated in the 50th anniversary edition of the Chevron Houston Marathon. I want to start by stating that it was one of the most amazing experiences I’ve had in 40+ years of racing. From the organizational perspective, the race is at the same level of any big-city event. It is up there with any Major. On the personal side, it was uplifting. From the coaching side, it was memorable.
About to cross the finish line with a hand in my heart and the other one thanking The One who made this miracle possible
I knew the event’s center of operations was the George R. Brown Convention Center, which is huge. I never expected it to take the entire place. The execution of the bib pick up was flawless even though a bit more signage would have been welcome for the sake of out of-towners, such as me. I did not visit the expo, though. Friends told me it was a smaller version, given the Covid reality of the world.
Running morning was cold, cold, cold. Thirty-six degrees when we left our Airbnb. But we were able to find refuge, toilets and a place to rest while we waited for our corrals to open. Everything was so well organized and orderly that your only worry was walking to the start. The whole shebang was taken care of for you.
The course was flat, sans an overpass and two, minor underpasses. We ran through beautiful areas of the city and crowd support was solid without being overwhelming. There were so many port-a-pots throughout the race that I never saw a waiting line. There were even urinals at the starting line, first time I’ve seen this in the US. I stopped about mile 14, not because I had to but as a preemptive measure, just because I could and there were no lines.
Last mile, back in downtown, was stunning. Lots of fans and photographers lining up to welcome back the runners. After picking up our spectacular finisher’s medal, we went into the Convention Center to get our finisher’s shirt and food bag. The only unflattering thing I have to say about the race is the shirt. It was a cheapy fabric, fits poorly and the design was nothing to write home about.
I fully recommend this event to anyone interested in a big-city race. This is a Marathon-Major-like organization without the Marathon Major label nor price tag.
COACHING EXPERIENCE
I had a wonderful experience with my four coached athletes in the race. All three marathoners set PRs even though two of them contracted Covid just three weeks before the race. This hindered their expectations and the size of their PRs, but they both achieve their A-Goals through courageous performances. The half marathoner was able to cross the finish line strong, healthy and with a big smile on his face. His goal was finishing after a long hiatus, and that was accomplished, too.
All runners trusted the process, followed their training diligently and executed their race plans to the tee. Thus, the results.
There is nothing more satisfying for a coach than one of your runners telling you: “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you”. Even though it sounds (and it is) self-serving, it reminds you that, even though they all had in them the ability to achieve what they just did, your guidance made a difference in this runner’s race. And that is priceless.
MY RACE
On the personal side, I was able to complete the Houston Marathon (my 11th), just 207 days after open-heart surgery. I trained with a race/walk protocol that allowed me to make this a reality, despite having time for just two long sessions (16 and 17 miles). Yet, in just four months, I was able to complete the race in 5:16:45. The time is nothing special, but on my race, time was irrelevant. It was all about crossing the finish line.
Even though it was my 11th marathon, this finish line was special.
The chilly weather was helpful. I ran the first 7 miles biting an 11 pace, and from there started my walk/run protocol of .18/.82 (weird splits, sure, but it was where, after much practice, I felt more comfortable). I reached miles 16, 18 and 20, tired but strong. Legs started to hurt reaching miles 21 and 22 and after the walking break for Mile 23, the legs just stop firing. I tried to restart the running, but it wasn’t happening. I ran some quick math and realized that if I restarted now, I could go sub-5, but the legs were shot. Then I realized that being at Mile 23, 30 weeks after OHS, was miracle enough and I wasn’t going to let the clock dictate the terms of my happiness or what God was allowing me to do. So I walked most of the last 5K with a big smile, never resenting the time lost or wondering why I didn’t go for the half.
I crossed the finish line with teary eyes and a couple of seconds later, I hear the unmistakable screams of my beautiful wife welcoming me. Unfortunately, she was on the other side of the street, and it would take about an hour for me to hug her. But the fact that she witnessed the miracle of my finish, firsthand, uplifted my spirit.
Houston was a spectacular experience in every sense of the phrase. As a runner, as a coach and as the protagonist of something improbable. Because what I personally accomplished is so unlikely that it can only be explained by the divine intervention of God, through me. This is what proves that it is a miracle. Sharing it with my friends from the No-Club Runners multiplied tenfold the experience.
I can’t wait to see what’s next!
by Adolfo Salgueiro | Jan 18, 2022 | Article, Personal, Reflection
Orange Bowl 1983
By Coach Adolfo Salgueiro
I’ve written about my first marathon in bits and pieces throughout this blog, but I’ve never written anywhere about my entire recollection of that 1983 Orange Bowl Marathon. This upcoming January 22nd will be the 39th anniversary of my race. So, before my memories keep fading away, I better put all I can recall into paper (or digital format).
I was a 17-year-old high school senior living in Caracas, Venezuela. I always kept active by running, practicing karate, baseball, soccer, tennis, hiking, swimming, biking and whatever came along. Running a marathon was a goal somewhere on the backburner, but, thanks to my dad, I got the chance to fulfill it earlier than expected.
I believe we arrived in Miami the day before the Saturday race. We stayed in a hotel in downtown and went to a spacious hotel ballroom nearby, to pick up our bibs. I remember being blown away by the technology of the day, when my bib was printed before my eyes, instead of being ready ahead of time. I don’t recall an expo, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there. I read, maybe in that day’s Miami Herald, that none other than the legendary Bill Rodgers was the favorite to win.
This is the only picture I have from the race, but it is one of the best running pictures ever taken of me. Check out the detail of the untied shoe with no socks, to which I make reference, later in the post.
I also recall my dad buying me a Casio stopwatch, so I could keep track of my marathon time. I had that Casio for years. I don’t remember how I lost it or when it broke, but I’ve seen it in pictures from the early 90s.
On race morning we met with the Venezuelan runners, most of them where my dad’s buddies, at the hotel lobby. The one thing I vividly remember was asking for a coffee at the hotel bar and getting a gigantic cup of black, diluted, disgusting American coffee. At home, a small cup of good coffee with a generous amount of milk would start off the day.
One of the runners had rented a sports car and somehow, more people than was safe crammed inside for a short drive to the majestic (at lease in my eyes) Orange Bowl Stadium. This is where the Miami Dolphins, who were playing the Super Bowl next week, held their home games.
Before time chips, you had to present yourself and your bib to the organizers, so they knew you were at the starting line. Somehow, we could not find the registration table. We were looking for it like crazy until we realized this was going to be based on the honor system.
I recall nothing about the starting gun, crossing the starting line or conversations along the way. I do remember, though, my dad constantly reining me in because I was going too fast. He also reminded me to take water every so often, as the humidity was exceedingly high.
My dad has one indelible memory of the race. After a rainy patch along the way, we found ourselves running next to a woman with a drenched, white outfit that left nothing to the imagination. At 17 and with raging hormones, I couldn’t but get distracted by the magnificent side show. My dad had to bring me back to the race at hand. There is no marathon talk in my household where this story doesn’t come up.
The course had two in-and-out segments (Coral Way and Coconut Grove). Both times, as we were going in, the pack led by Bill Rodgers, was coming out. For a 17-year-old kid from Caracas, seeing the legendary Bill Rodgers, running in the same race within a few meters from each other, was the highlight of the event. It was the equivalent of participating in the same Monaco Gran Prix with Niki Lauda or playing in Veterans Stadium, side-by-side with Mike Schmidt. It was that improbable.
Sometime during the Covid lockdown of 2020, my friend Starr Davis invited me to participate on a Zoom call with Rodgers. At the end, I had the chance to asked him what he remembered form the 1983 Orange Bowl. Surprisingly, he recalled a lot. Starr recorded the interaction with her cellphone. I invite you to check the video, which I have included right here.
Most of my memories of the 1983 Orange Bowl Marathon are from the last 7.2 kilometers (4.5 miles). I recall them vividly because I suffered miserably. My dad and I agreed to run together for 35 kilometers (21.8 miles), and from there, each one would run his own race. By kilometer 35.1 he had already left me in the dust. I slowed down and started walking. I was drenched, tired, hungry, and questioning what the fuck was I doing there, instead of being at home in Caracas, maybe getting ready to play baseball with my buddies.
At one point, it had to be closer to the end, I took my shoes off and started walking on my socks. The shoes were heavy, and I considered just tossing them to the side, but then I thought of my dad getting upset, as they were the shoes he let me borrow, so I decided to keep them. Wise choice.
A friend of my dad, the late Jose Ortega, saw me close to the end and ran a bit with me with words of encouragement. I promised him I would finish so I discarded my socks, put on the shoes, which I did not tie, and started running. The next memory I have is of my dad and some Venezuelan runners at the entrance of the stadium, cheering me on. As I hit the grass, I started sprinting like crazy. To this day I can’t figure out how my shoes didn’t fly off my feet. Check them in the accompanying picture. Not only untied, but open at the top.
37 years later, I got my hands on a medal from the race
I lifted my arms as I crossed the finish line and, one way or another, I found my dad and collapsed. My first thought was: “When are we doing the next one?”
I knew my time was around 4:11 but I did not know for sure. I wouldn’t find until months later when I got my finisher’s certificate in the mail, that my official time was 4:11:11. I also got a proof of one picture in case I wanted to order it. It is the only image I have from the entire experience. Thank God is one of the best pictures ever taken of me running.
In those days, medals were not ubiquitous or for everybody, and I did not get one. In September 2020 I found one on eBay and jumped on it. If you care to read about the 37-year medal saga you can check the blog post I wrote about it by clicking here.
Sorry if this blogpost ran longer than usual, but I am trying to recall as much as I can. Yes, I could have waited until next year, the 40th anniversary, but by then, I may forget something else. And I can always repost.
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