Running Commentary

Had a successful "long" run this morning, an experience I wasn't sure I could count on given the state of my left calf. A couple of nights ago I was awakened by a major-league cramp in that calf, a cramp knotted so hard that all I could do was gasp in pain and let it take its own sweet time to ease up. It did, but since then the area has been painful to the touch and the soreness has slowed down my usually energetic daily walks. But faint heart never won fair lady, er, I mean faint heart never propelled a fair lady out the door to run, so this morning I suited up and headed out an hour before dawn to begin what was scheduled to be a 10-miler. Picture me: It's dark. It's pitch dark. The falling rain is light but steady. There are puddles, puddles that reflect the red, green, and yellow of stoplights--and also the soles of my Sauconys as I every now and then go airborne in a vain attempt to keep my feet dry. I'm at mile 6 or so, and slightly lost--I think

That's me. Not running as I'd like to be running (fast! free! gloriously!), but running, nevertheless. It's been a while since I caught up in this space, so here I am, committed to doing that--even if my post is short and slightly south of the apex on the sweetness meter. I am continuing to train for the Oakland half, which is March 24. My running is almost exclusively in LA, where most days you'll find me still doing the granny-nanny two-step. My hip/piriformis/SI joint/name your hip pain here is still with me, but treatment by a chiropractic wizard plus some determined stretching and strengthening on my part have kept me on the roads. Do we love it that the days are getting longer, even though it's still January? One reason to run early is to experience the wonder of a.m. light. Nothing sweeter to a morning person like me. This morning it was 8 miles (two weeks ago I did 10, then last week 6.25), most of it along Wilshire Boulevard in the predawn darknes