Kaiser Half

The day.

I have been reluctant to write about the Kaiser Half Marathon, which I ran last Sunday. Although my experience was positive, there's an undercurrent of sadness in my race-day reflections because while I was still out on the Great Highway, a runner who had just crossed the finish line collapsed and died. Deaths at races, like deaths at many other kinds of events, are rare--but they do occur. For me, learning of this particular death felt like a splash of ink hitting the sky-blue bucket of the day.

I traveled to SF with Lucretia (l.) and Kate (r.). They wowed me with their times--especially Kate, who scored a medal by finishing second in her (and my!) age group. That was more than 45 minutes before I crossed the finish line. (These girls rock.)

We toed the start line at 8 a.m. Well, that's a figure of speech. For me, it actually means that I milled around some 200 yards behind the start line along with thousands of other enthusiastic but not-too-fast runners and then, about four minutes after the starting gun sounded, crossed the mat that started my timing chip.

I felt fairly strong--strong enough, anyway--the whole time. The day was unusual for February, with bright sun and very little wind. It was hot before the whole thing was over, but I was careful to stay hydrated. Maybe learned my lesson after cramping up near the end of CIM in December? Maybe not, but at least I felt OK. The main issue was pain in my left hip, the legacy of that pesky fall I took in April two years ago. The pain seems to come and go when I run, never getting acute, so I take the sensible attitude that it's to be ignored. I do ice it and use a foam roller on it (this disclaimer is to forestall any kvetching about taking care of myself that this post might provoke from my offspring).

The start.



The middle.

And here's the money shot.

Up next in my life: more running, more taking askew phone photos, more being thankful that I can still do these things I love.