Running Commentary

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