Running Commentary

Despite the optimistic assessment of my left knee that I made in my last post, I am still injured and still not running. Looked back on this last day of the year, my running life in 2009 was a disappointment: lost a week when I broke my rib in February, was down for five weeks in April after I fell and bruised the bursa in my left hip, and am currently biking, swimming, and going round and round on the elliptical trainer at the gym rather than running on real live roads the way I’d like to be. So I enter 2010 with the wish that I’ll recover soon and run a lot. Along with this wish, however, there rises within me a wish of another, gentler stripe, and that is the Zen prayer, “May I be happy with whatever is happening.” In other words, may I be ever mindful of the joy of being alive. In other words—at the risk of descending irrevocably into cliché—may I learn to make lemonade from all those doggone lemons falling into my lap (or onto my knee). Recent bike rides have been far from the wor

Singin' in the Rain . That was me this morning when I biked over to Emeryville to meet my friend R. for breakfast. Weather.com said a 10% chance of rain. I think I missed the dry 90%! I was smiling through the raindrops, because my knee is so much better than it was when I posted yesterday. I smiled when it started to rain, even though I had no slicker. I smiled when I saw this car. When I last met with my friend R., a couple of weeks ago, she suggested the pain in my left knee might have been caused by my new shoes. Seemed ridiculous, but in desperation I went out and bought another new pair of Sauconys, these a less rigid, cushier pair. They felt so good in the store that I wore them out the door (yes, first I paid for them). By the time I had walked to the end of the block, my knee was noticeably better. Now, a day later, I am practically pain-free. It is hard for me to believe that a short plastic stability strip in the sole of a shoe was responsible for so much pain, but it

These are stressful times at Running Commentary central. I don't really feel like a whine and gees session, so will try to make my update calm and descriptive. AARGH! (Who was that?) I am out of running commission because my left knee has gone wonky for no apparent reason. Here's how it felt toward the end of a run last week when I realized a dull ache had morphed into something obstructive. End road work, indeed. And previous to my sudden, unplanned hiatus, I'd had a great couple of running weeks. During that time the weather was, um, interesting--a hard frost one morning made for a challenging and exhilarating run. Note the frozen grass. (I think my friend in Minnesota is laughing at me--frozen grass! Oh dear!) Not only did the grass freeze, so did the water fountain on my regular running trail. Still, the weather was not exactly Arctic, I admit. A few days after the freeze, the skies opened up. Yes, I was at the farthest point from home during an 8-miler when the deluge

Well, obviously it has. Or had on Tuesday by the time I saw this. I awoke in the dark and found within my sleepy soul a longing to go to the water. Thanks to the subliminal influence of Nike, the mandate "Just Do It!" popped into my head. Got up, threw on my running duds, slithered out into the dark. By the time I hit the Bay, the sun was coming up. By the time I got to the end of the pier, it was a new day, and life was good. If I wish for you even half the blessings that I feel are mine, it constitutes a wish for a very, very, happy Thanksgiving. So wished!

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

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.

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

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, s

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 wheth

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 recover

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

Puddles on the path! I was awakened at 4 am when the bedroom was lit up with a flash of bright white. No, it wasn't aliens come to take me away. But it was something almost as unusual in these parts--a thunderstorm. We have gone so many consecutive days (weeks, no, months!) without rain that in my sleepy stupor I had trouble grasping what was going on. Then I started to worry about the stuff we have lying around in the backyard, a byproduct of our efforts to straighten out the garage--but when I considered running out to battle the rain in the pitch dark wearing my sensible flannel nightie, suddenly I became rational. Which is to say, I went back to sleep. I had it on my schedule to do a longish run early, so when I awoke again at 6 am and it was raining only gently, I suited up, stuck a Clif Shot in my pocket, and headed out the door anyway. The morning turned out to be quite mild and only a little wet. I did a good, leisurely seven-and-a-half miler out the Ohlone Greenway. Didn&#

Just a brief post today. I'm home from Idaho and busy already with too much work and its corollary, not enough time. Anyway. I ran the Pocatello 10K and was thrilled to find I felt pretty strong. Of course, I was so thrilled that I ran for three days in a row immediately after that and came home from the trip pretty trashed. I took a couple of days off from running and then went out yesterday morning for a happy four-miler. Below is my photo from that run. I feel blessed that I am in heel-and-toe mode again--it was five months ago today that I fell and hurt my hip. I did take some phone photos on my trip. Have posted most of them on my Flickr page , which I hope you'll go to if you're interested. My preference is to post my running photos in this blog but I find that I take so many that sorting and uploading the appropriate ones gets to be a chore. Keep on breathing, y'all.

My brain on noise--actually, my camera phone's view from inside the car wash. You can almost see the noise in there, no? I have come across a couple of books lately that seem relevant to my mental meanderings as recorded in this blog. The first is Listening Below the Noise , by Anne LeClaire, a woman who some twenty years ago decided to observe one day of silence per week. Since she made that decision, she has never spoken a word on a Monday. Her account of the experience is compelling and thought provoking. (Silence is on my mind today, particularly because as I type I am distracted by loud gospel music coming over the fence from the yard adjacent to mine in the back. I've turned on my own noise-- a CD of collected piano concertos-- to combat the outside noise. Don't know whether this makes things better or worse.) Although I doubt I would duplicate LeClaire's experience, I freely admit that the notion of a silent day attracts me. I am not someone who listens to music

Because it's slow at work and I'm between freelance projects, I did a lot of Web surfing today. Found myself wondering what it would be like to blog five days a week, like one of my favorite bloggers , or even every day like some blogs I've visited. Confession: I signed up for Twitter but never tweet. Even that seems to someone like me that it requires the revelation of TMI. Imagine if I blogged nonstop! It would be, like, Ran today. Ran today. Didn't run today. Shoulder hurt. Swam today. Did nothing today. Hip hurt. Ran anyway. Sunny this morning. Ran today. And so on. But then I run across some everyday blogs by people that are actually interesting. Compelling, even. Still, the notion of nonstop writing is in my mind akin to the notion of stream-of-consciousness talking. Interesting to the talker, but.... In other snooze, I took a few phone pics when I ran in Reno last weekend. This lovely mosaic is at the (surprise!) rose garden . And this line drawing etched into co

Peace I ask of thee, oh river Peace, peace peace When I learn to live serenely Cares will cease From the hills I gather courage Visions of the days to be Strength to lead and faith to follow All are given unto me Peace I ask of thee, oh river Peace, peace peace -- Song for Girl Scouts, learned at Camp Wasiu circa 1955

The sun has indeed been out the last two mornings I've run early--Friday and today. In the Bay Area, a clear sky can only mean one thing: Summer's almost over. Around here, summer = fog and fog = summer. This is an ordinary BART support pillar, but wait--that's early morning sunlight painting its flat surfaces a pale gold. All hail the sun! This morning not only was the sun shining, the moon was hanging around too. And flowers preened in the clean white dawn. My running life has resumed, I'm glad to say. I'm a little slower; the runs are a little shorter. But I'm out there, and for that profoundly grateful. For the time being I'm going with a weekly schedule that includes two street runs, two workouts at the gym (which include short treadmill runs), and one swim. Two plus two plus one equals five, so that leaves two days when I rest. Usually they're work days, meaning I walk briskly those days (and every work day) for at least 2.5 miles. On swim days I

...and up is down. As I recover from my hip injury (Fifteen weeks! It's taken fifteen freaking weeks!) I find myself favoring my entire left leg from waist to toenails. Well fine, you say. But by being so out of balance I seem to have tweaked my right hamstring. So when I went for a run (!) this morning I couldn't decide which body part to baby. I decided to be a LION and baby neither. I actually had a fine run. Five miles. Even two weeks ago that distance seemed like an impossible dream. In other news, I swore I wasn't going to blog again until I finished the freelance editing job I'm working on. But my flip-phone photos are piling up and crying out to go for a cruise in the ether. So here are a few from July. I'm closing that folder and starting on August (the above is the first and only one for August, so far). . On July 19, I ran from the chicken... ...to the graffiti and back, a distance of about two miles. Woo woo! On July 22 Boomer , my favorite nephew, blew