Running Commentary

Slow-twitch muscle fibers rule. Decided that in order to have a 20-mile week, my first one since May, that I'd have to run 10 miles today. When I thought about getting up, eating breakfast, waiting around until that settled--I decided it would be a better course of action just to run the 10 miles before breakfast (hey, I'm a runner, not an Einstein). So off I went at about 6:20 am, carrying my trusty water bottle in my hand and a packet of chocolate Clif Shot in my pocket. It was a perfect, gentle, Bay Area summer, with wispy pink fog-clouds drifting overhead as the sun rose, and a cool tailwind from the south encouraging me as I ran. I did my usual four-city run, that is, through Berkeley, Albany, El Cerrito, and Richmond, out to the end of the Ohlone Greenway, also known as the BART trail, where the Baxter Creek restoration proceeds, with wonderful results (see photo, below). Even though it was early, an older gentleman was already primping the wildflower garden that signa

No photo, no ruminative introduction. This morning I ran "speed." It goes in quotes because for me, slow is the new fast. What has me excited is that I did my usual five-mile route, which I normally cover in about an hour, in 53:25:36. Wow. Speed-of-sound records, here I come. One result of my new walking commute is that I've dropped a couple of pounds. Maybe that makes it easier for my cranky muscles to propel me over the ground. Apropos of nothing in particular, yesterday I finished Dalai Lama, My Son , an as-told-to memoir by Diki Tsering. This does relate to running, in a way--almost everything I read gets dissected by my running brain. Today I was thinking about the part of the book where the DL's ma described a power struggle that took place within the Tibetan government (this was before the Chinese occupation). It was textbook palace intrigue, complete with backstabbers, bribes, unexplained disappearances, shifting alliances, an attempted coup--the whole deal.

This is a photo I took at Longwood Gardens, when I went back to Pennsylvania in March to visit my niece , who is in the process of blooming, just like these tulips. Even though the image is from spring, somehow it feels appropriate for these glorious summer days. The light is so white right now, the air so clear, the colors so vibrant. I am well. My visits to various divisions of the Kaiser cardiology department have yielded no dire warnings to sit still or die, I'm pleased to say. The Holter test (24-hour EKG) showed a couple of flutters; the stress test was barely stressful. After the latter, my doctor said I did well--came within one bpm of my maximum of 160. This I did in 12 minutes. The best sign, she said, was that my pulse returned to within normal range within three minutes. Recovery, evidently, is key. The upshot seems to be that I do get the occasional irregular heartbeat, but it is only very occasional. There is no sign of any kind of blockage in that wonderful network o