Oh, Run Along Now

That's what I try to do, just run along now (and also then). Now and then, now and again--many, many nows (which turn into thens).

I was out Sunday for an 8-miler. It was the end of the week and I took it easy. I ran north on my usual path. Coolish air kept me stepping lively, I must say.

There's a section of the path (the Ohlone Greenway, to write with more accuracy) that runs through El Cerrito. Along the way, on the eastern side of the trail, a drainage trough at the base of a concrete retaining wall that is dry most of the year tends to fill with rainwater during the wetter months. The water feeds the grasses, and the grasses attract happy little frogs, who start families in the shelter of the wall. Local schoolteachers have sussed the froggies out, divining in their magical way a field trip ripe for the planning. Here's to the woggling of many pollys.

I didn't hear the frogs Sunday, but smelled the moisture and was happy in anticipation of future frog-enhanced runs. Meanwhile, I was content to snap a photo of the froggies' personal nature mural.

It was so early that morning that I could have shot a cannon down Solano Avenue and not hit anything.

I seriously considered doing that, but oh, the complications. Where would I get a cannon? and if I found one, how would I get it to Albany? And once I did, where would I get a match for the powder? Nothing but problems--the last thing I needed on a happy Sunday run. So Solano Avenue remained unfired upon for another day.

When I got back to the ranch (as we say out West), I thought maybe the neighbor's house had been hit by a cannon--smoke was pouring out of one wall.
False alarm. As the saying goes, where there's smoke, there's a clothes dryer. Just another day here on the frontier.

Hill Running

The complement to speed work and long runs touted in the running literature is running hills. I've always figured I work my hill-climbing muscles enough by walking up and down the stairs at BART some fifteen to twenty times per week. But lately I've had a yen to run on real hills, just to see whether I'm as tough as I like to think I am.

Cut to this morning. Me. Cranky and a bit bushed already from running hard Tuesday and then doing a probably ill-advised gym workout yesterday. Up and down this tilted street I went: four times up (pushing hard) and four times down--then up one more time and up another small hill to reach a long downhill leading to the path I usually run on. I ran about 5.5 total, and went home whupped. Whupped but buffed, more or less.

Abs of Steel—A Tip

I've been running quite a bit lately and (fingers and toes crossed) it's been going well. In general I am a fan of spring, the time of birth and renewal, but not of fall, the time of fading and dying, but this year I have to say fall is being kind to me.

Which in a way leads into the topic o' the day—my abs and yours. The title of this post implies a tip is to be expected. In truth, I have three.

The first, or (1), as I like to call it, regards what we (that's thee and me) eat. The tip is, go easy on the calories and go easy on the fats. You can strengthen your core until you cry "uncle" or "aunt" (this blog is certified gender-equal, y'know), but if you have much belly fat, the strong core you've worked so hard to achieve won't be evident to anyone except you. Can you say "muffin-top"? Muffin-top trumps abs of steel, every time. So remember the tip: moderation in consumption of calories and fat.

The second tip, aka (2), regards, oddly enough, our arms (thine and mine). Throughout the many years I've been running (thirty-one—can that be right?? Eek! Eeek!), I've more often than not at the end of a training run taken a few moments to do ten or more push-ups against a fence, a low wall, a step, or a low bar. This on the theory that my strong glutes, hams, quads, and calves deserve to be matched up on this old body with more than limp spaghetti biceps and triceps. The push-up deal has done some good for the old arms, although I still have a bit of wiggle in the tricep department (damn you, gravity!). The nice surprise, though, is that my abs have benefited from the push-up routine also. Picture for a moment a person (not you or me, of course) attempting to do a push-up but running into trouble in the mid-section department. Face it, if your belly button is dragging on the ground or, conversely, your rear end forms the apex of a triangle for the duration of the push-up, your arms just aren't going to get much benefit. But enter tip (2): by holding your upper body firmly in a plank position, your push-up will be a roaring success. And plank position = ab strengthener. Really. So try it; you'll like it.

The third tip, your basic (3), requires an illustration or two or three:

This was taken following a morning run during my September trip to beautiful Pocatello, Idaho.

This was taken following my wonderful eight-miler at Inspiration Point in Tilden Park last Sunday.

And this was taken following my run over to the track on Hopkins Street for a speed workout early this morning. (I ran at least one 400 at 2:05. Yay! Couldn't help but share.)

What do these three phone photos have in common? Answer: I took them all while I was lying on my back. And that, for vous and for mois, is tip (3). For many years I've made it a practice either toward the end or at the end of my training runs to flop onto my back (bonus—the first few seconds of lying there, be it on a bench, a picnic table, or even the ground, inevitably feels terrific). As I'm gazing into the sky, which is in itself a wonderful, contemplative exercise, I execute 20 stomach crunches (hands behind head! knees bent! hup two!) and then at least 40 bicycle kicks. When I started doing this, my legs on the bicycle part had to go pretty much straight up; these days I can extend them essentially parallel to the ground. Why? Ab strength. The gift you and I can take possession of by simply following tips 1, 2, and 3.

You're welcome. Now get out there!

Run, Walk, Lift, Sleep

Sunday morning before most of the world was yet awake, I had a great 7-mile run out the Ohlone Greenway and back. This was after last week's big rain and before this week's, so the sky was clear. As soon as the sun peeked over the hill, the birds started in with their chirping and the fog rolled in just as if it wasn't October. I ran out almost to Stockton Street, stopping when I got to a set of three low-set bars that were saying to me, "Drop and give us 20!" So I did. Five push-ups on the lowest bar, five on the middle, and ten on the high. Puff, puff, I gotta tell ya.

That was my turnaround point, so I backtracked and made a stop at some low-rising parallel bars that I'd never noticed before.

The parallel-bar experience for me in the past has generally been fraught with terror (What if I get out in the middle and my arms give way? What if I lurch so hard I lurch right off the bars? ). But that's because the set I've used before is ver-r-r-ry tall, so tall that a minor miscue could turn major in a hurry. Thus my joy at seeing these low babies. I think for a few glorious moments there I must have looked a lot like He Kexin.

From the bars I ran home, stopping only to take a phone photo of some local fall color. Eat your heart out, New England.

Later in the day Z and I went on the first hike-aganza we've done for a while. Regular readers of this blog may remember some of our past excursions. A hike-aganza is a mini-minivacation--a couple of hours of walking/hiking followed by a picnic lunch. Z is the pathfinder and I'm the picnic-lunch maker, a division of labor that serves the ideal 'ganza model well.

This time we went to the Don Edwards Wildlife Refuge, which covers an impressive number of acres at the eastern end of the Dumbarton Bridge. The day, which before dawn had been so clear, turned cloudy and breezy but not unpleasant. We did see some birds (the area is home to an incredible number of species) but mostly just enjoyed being out and breathing some fresh Bay air.

The out-of-date guidebook we had described the salt ponds in the refuge--salt ponds that were drained a few years ago in order to restore the wetlands. Yay! I remember not that long ago that those white blocks, the size of which was best comprehended from an airplane, blanketed a sizable portion of the south bay. Wonderful that they're gone.

In addition to birds, the refuge hosts quite a few native plants. I loved the look of this denuded California buckeye. A well-placed identifying sign let us know that the amount of foliage on this tree is directly linked to the amount of water it receives. Obviously this tree gave up on getting any H2O at some point before last week's deluge.

The "lift" part of this post came Monday morning, when I went to the gym and did my best Ahnold imitation. Nothing was left of me except a pale cloud of reduced energy--just enough to get me to work and back and then to activity number four: "sleep."

Ps. One more photo for you. I'd hate for you to miss seeing my favorite shoes. Tres stylish, I know.

Briefly

Wanted to check in on a day full of events (including postseason baseball games--too much fun).

Here's a quiz:

What's notable about October 11, 2009?

a. It would have been my dad's 102nd birthday.
b. It is the six-month anniversary of the fall that put me out of commission for three months.
c. It is the day I ran the Primo's half marathon in Danville.
d. All of the the above.

And the answer is--ta da!--d., All of the above. So it's a special day.

Here's my daddy posing with my mother's daddy. The time was about 1934, when RAH would have been 26 or 27. A pair of handsome fellas.

I wish I had a portrait-quality photo of me at the starting line in Danville, but hey, it was dark when Z took this. The race started at 7:15, so it was barely light even when the starting gun went off. Things were a little fuzzy, so I guess this picture is appropriate. The run went very well. My energy stayed high. I wasn't fast, but really the point today was to ascertain whether I was "back" from my injury sufficiently to start running long and running often. I would say the answer is yes! I finished fourth in my age group, 511th out of 562 runners. The surprising thing to me is that there were 70 DNFs (did-not-finishers), and all but a couple of them were younger than I. The race was for the benefit of the local schools, so I suspect a number of non-runners signed up in a (highly commendable) burst of enthusiasm.

You'll notice there are no pictures here of me in my out-of-commission days. No sense in dwelling on the negative, I say. I was in the midst of working one day last week when it struck me how easy I find it to entertain a low-level whining in my mind and also how little real cause I have to be discontented. Life is not perfect, but it is very good.

Because I don't want to show me on crutches, I'm throwing in a bonus photo illustrating the bounty we're enjoying courtesy of the tomato plants that ate Berkeley, which are maybe not as scary as the eggplant that ate Chicago--but impressive nonetheless.

The Comeback Trail

I set out to do the LMJS 15K at Lake Merritt last Sunday. It was a freakishly hot day, so after two laps around the lake I gave it up and settled for a 10K.

Picture me running across this finish line, a bit more "finished" than I'd planned on being.

Still, I was pleased to be running hard and have suffered no noticeable after-effects. Even when I threw in the towel, the infrastructure (muscles and bones) still felt strong--but lightheadedness and mild mental confusion gave me the message that I was overheating. (No smart-aleck questions about and how was the latter any different from my normal state.) I am registered to run a half marathon Oct. 11 and hoping to get cooler weather that day.

In other news, Z and I went to our new gym together this morning early. It was the first time we've gone to the gym together in years--maybe three or four years, even. It felt great to see him working out and looking so healthy. He had open-heart surgery in April and has recovered with fabulosity! My next plot is to get him running again. Of course, I think everyone in the entire world should run. Well, shouldn't they?

By the Numbers

10.62 -- Number of miles run (per MapMyRun)
16 -- Number of Miniwheat biscuits consumed for pre-run breakfast
3 -- Number of red lights waited for
159 -- Number of days since hip injury
5.5 -- Number of backyards along trail being eaten alive by morning glories
2 -- Number of couples arguing as they walked along
1 -- Number of chocolate Clif Shots slurped on run
12 -- Number of dogs being walked
4 -- Number of songs playing in my head at various times
10 -- Number on a scale of 1 to 10 representing my happiness over being healed