Running Commentary

I guess that's what I'm thinking--now or never. If I don't run a marathon now, well, when will I? Am I saving it for five years from now? Funny, these are the questions I was asking myself when I was 49 years old and had never run a marathon before. I ended up training for and running the San Francisco Marathon on July 14, 1996 (Bastille Day), a date I've since regarded as one of the best days ever in my life. BUT. Fast forward to March 27, 2011, on the streets of West Oakland about five hours into the Oakland Marathon. You'll see me, headed toward Lake Merritt at a glacial pace, staggering, limping, and moaning like I'd recently been dropped from a helicopter flying a thousand feet up. I was approaching the end of my ninth marathon, and let me tell you, it felt like I was actually approaching the end of my life as a healthy human. On the course in Berkeley For days, months, even, after Oakland, I could be heard saying, "That's it. I'm t

For at least the last three days I have a feeling I've been impossible to live with. I'd ask Z if that's true, but I don't want to know the answer. I'm fearful about everything. A bike ride to the gym today felt like a life-threatening proposition. What if I got hit by a train in Emeryville? What if I got a flat and my cell phone didn't work? What if I made it alive to the gym but while I was there dropped a 20-pound weight on my foot and busted every metatarsal I own? (I know, fat chance that I could lift a 20-pound weight. But still.) I've been in the grip of what feels like existential angst--what is the meaning of life??!!??! It has no meaning.  We're all doomed. Etcetera.  The feeling is familiar, and I recognize that it usually hits right on schedule a few days before a long race. Oh, such as the Berkeley Half Marathon, coming up this Sunday? Uh, yeah. Looking through my trove of phone photos, trying to find something appropriate for this whi

Actually, it wasn't that spooky, although I did take the photo for this post yesterday, which was Halloween. This face? Well, I'm not saying it was watching me, but I wouldn't say oh no if someone told me it was ALIVE. Me? Scared? Bwah ha ha! I'm writing to let you know that something that's not a face or a bird is haunting me--a poletrgeist in my legs. I seem to have Restless Leg Syndrome , a truly creepy feeling in the legs that occurs at night when I want to sleep. It started the night after the Humboldt Half (11 days ago) and has plagued me constantly since then. This on top of my recent attack of the soy-allergy rash has me whining. Like a banshee, you might say--but please don't. Today is a new day, and tonight's bedtime a new bedtime. If any of you (all 8 of my readers) has any tips on how to make my legs stop doing the bunny hop while I'm in bed (oops, wrong holiday), please go to my FB page and share. I'm cutting way back on caffeine,