Running Commentary

Saturday was a long run for the Oakland Running Festival training group--a 16-plus miler along an old train corridor known as the Iron Horse Trail . I have a special affection for the Iron Horse, having been an RTC member for more years than I care to or dare to count. It was the longest run we've done to date. Its relatively flat topography was for me a mixed blessing--no quad-killing hills, but also no variation in the landing angle of my repetitive footfalls (repetitive to the tune of some 90 per minute--for about 180 minutes). My hips and knees complained, but they lived. I paced the 11:30-12:00-minute milers training for the half marathon, which was inspirational and fun. I love to see new runners making and honoring a difficult training commitment. However, they were scheduled to run 8 miles total, so they turned around at the 4.5-mile mark--leaving me with only 11.5 more to run to make my 16. Because we were the caboose of the running groups, I was suddenly alone on the tr...

The above title refers to my recent rediscovery of the secret of life: SLEEP. I say rediscovery because periodically I accidentally sleep enough and realize how happy it makes me--good natured, even. My current appreciation of slumber started week before last, when I did only one mid-week run and a little swimming and devoted the remaining early-morning hours to sleeping. To my surprise, suddenly my appetite was sharper, my job less onerous, my spouse even handsomer than usual! All this happiness made me greedy for more happiness, so I've continued the practice of getting enough sleep right up through this week. Wow. All this is not to say I've been a total slug. I met at my overpriced gym with a trainer for a free assessment and then again for a 50-minute customized workout. Whew--hard. Who knew I could do a plank (with leg lifts!) on an instability ball for a whole minute (that may not be the exact name for the ball, but I call 'em as I experience 'em). I have also sw...

Short update: Saturday's training run was steep but--for me anyway--less debilitating than the run last week. (I know, we hope for a higher recommendation than "less debilitating than a killer run," but sometimes "not awful" has to suffice). The run, which fell a little more than a mile short of the 10 miles it was billed at, followed part of the actual Oakland Marathon course. We went from College Avenue up, up, up. If you've ever been in the Oakland flatlands on a moonless night and seen the illuminated Mormon temple hanging high up in the hills, well, that tells you just how up, up, up we went. Here's the temple, unilluminated but still up, up, up there. Then we went down, down, down, and I finished with only a bruised toenail or two and a gimpy quad muscle to show for it. Today, I actually felt pretty human, especially after sleeping ten hours last night. I wanted to move a little but not a lot. The answer? Going to the tennis court with a racquet a...

...so I did. This was this morning, at 7:09. The sun was finally coming up, after I'd been running for more than an hour. I skipped the track workout last night because I was still sore from Saturday's hilly fun (see previous post), so I felt I had to get out this morning. I did my version of a tempo run--a 1.5-mile warm-up, a 20-minute steady run at a pace between my 10-K and marathon paces, followed by a 1.5-mile cool-down (also known as getting home again). Gee. That description makes it sound like the run was scientific, cut-and-dried, efficient, productive. I suppose it could have been, might have been one of those things. The loose-cannon factor in that "tempo" formula is what's called "perceived effort." Some days my ostensible 10-K pace feels like the speed of a Nascar contender, while other days it feels like the speed of the loser in a turtle race. I check my Garmin periodically to make sure I'm on-pace, and I can only call my consistency ...

Yesterday the marathon training group did a long run along the Carquinez Strait , on the east side of Martinez--along the bluffs above the invisible water (fog, y'know). Whew. In the past when I've trained for a marathon on my own, I've never done long runs two weeks in a row. But now I'm trying to be flexible and to believe that makers of this training schedule have designed a workable program, one in which doing 15 miles on the heels of doing 12 is fine. Crunch time--where the rubber soles met the road. It was a hard run (did I already say that?). The fog never lifted, and a cold wind was blowing by the time I turned around at 7.5-plus miles on this out-and-back course. The "plus" was a little extra I had to tack on in order to find a secluded spot to, uh, heed the call of nature. Now I'm sure you've never done that. Might have been hallucinating on the return portion of the run. My left hip was sore, as was my left knee--this left-side vulnerability...

I have wanted to post--no disenchantment with blogging here--but somehow I just haven't made it to this space in a while. Since CIM I have done many runs, even a 5-mile fun run / race on New Year's Day. I've remained healthy enough, although it's about that new twinge I've been getting on the inside of my right knee -- Anyway. The most shocking thing to me is that I just haven't been taking many phone photos on my runs. I'm sure that's mostly because I've done so much running with my fellow club members and team members, and when these people are running they tend to keep on running, not stopping the way I often do to take some quirky picture. Between track most Tuesday nights and the LMJS training group Saturday mornings, for the time being I'm running in a lot of company. (The training group is in preparation for the Oakland Marathon, at the end of March.) Consistently running with other people is a new experience for me, and I'm finding th...

Christmas around the corner. Lots of rain here. It is cold. Nose-biting cold. But the photo to the left puts the whole Berkeley winter weather thing in perspective. I took this picture about five minutes ago--it's what I see out my window as I sit at the computer. The rose is smooshed up against the glass. Roses love rain, even cold rain, and when rain beats down they get giddy and leggy and happy to bloom. I've had weather luck in my running since CIM--have managed to slip between the raindrops, so to speak, for every run except one, which I used the treadmill for (see my last post). Here's another rain-related image, taken last week as I was logging some early morning miles. Not very wintry by Christmas-carol standards (no building a snowman in this meadow), but lovely nonetheless--a burst of winter color: a cushiony underfoot mosaic for a passing runner to appreciate. Saturday I ran with the Oakland Marathon training group I'm in. I was amazed and pleased to do ten...

Not long after completing CIM, I pretty much told the story of my marathon in pictures via Flickr . I've been slammed at work and busy trying to return to an even keel after the emotional highs and lows brought on by the long race and by the season in general. I am so very happy to have run the marathon, even though my time was less than stellar. My feet and calves cramped up toward the end, but I hobbled on in. I was 34th out of 43 in my age group. I'm proud to say that the 1st place runner is my friend, fellow team member, and also the kind person who drove me to Sacramento for the race. She's an inspiration! Recovery has been a challenge. I've gone from feeling euphoric to feeling older than mud and back again to being high. Because I'm a glutton for the agony of distance running, I am training for the Oakland Marathon, which is in late March. Last year I did the Oakland Half Marathon and loved it. Anyway, last Saturday I went on a group training run but only ...

A week ago Sunday I did my last long run before CIM . Afterward, I looked at the little map the run created in my Garmin Forerunner 205 and then I looked at the photos I took along the way, and it struck me that the whole thing was like some geography-based board game that takes the runner-player through many hazards in assorted different lands. It had rained the night before, so the first part of the game-board road map, the Bay Trail heading south from Berkeley, was lined with puddles. On the way back from Emeryville, not so m uch. I headed back to Berkeley, where the next segment of the game map had me dropping by the house to pick up the insoles for my running shoes. I had run seven miles before I realized I had inexplicably left them lying on top of the dryer. By the time I went through the front door, I was at mile 12. Surprisingly, I felt no ill effects then, or even the day after, from having run without that extra padding under my feet. Maybe the new less-is-more-in-the-...

I did run in SF last Tuesday, on the eve of the first game of the World Series. South on the Embarcadero, a lively 5-miler along the water, around the Giants' ballpark and back. This morning it's a different kind of run coming up. I just had a bowl of cereal and two short cups of coffee. It's still dark outside--Sunday 6 am, and most of the world is still asleep. Should I head out for my scheduled 18-miler? Or just go for a 20 and the heck with worrying? Instead of sitting in the kitchen, I sit at my desk to eat so that I don't bother Z, who was out late last night doing his docent gig at the Blackhawk Museum Halloween party. Instead of the Sunday paper, right now I read Runners' World . For motivation. To convince myself that I'm not too slow, too old, too undertrained to do this. I go online and use the RW pace calculator . To break five hours in the marathon I really will have to run an 11-minute pace. I can do that without too much pain in a 5K or a 10K, bu...

And if I don't have anything to say, can I make it look as if I do by changing my usual font and writing my non-content in red? Or by adding in some blue sky? I'm often so busy that I feel I don't have the time to write in this blog, even though I have so much that I'd love to record here. Today I do have a little time, but not much in the posting pitcher to pour out. It's like, the old Beatles song I sometimes sing to my sleepy self when I run early in the day : Nothing to say but what a day, how's your boy been Nothing to do, it's up to you I've got nothing to say but it's OK Good morning, good morning Good morning ah Ah, indeed. I had a conversation with my friend R. this morning that touched on ways for a person to follow a meaningful path, a daunting endeavor given the particular strictures a person can feel limited by--finances, relationships, employment, health (you fill in the blank). For myself, I have no pat answers. I feel honor-bound ...

Because I am now in San Francisco for the bulk of my day (of my life!), I am working on ways to fit in a run now and then. Doing this will become more and more of a challenge as the days grow shorter and the light heads south. Yesterday around 6 p.m. I headed out the office door for a 5-miler. I don't know why my legs felt like lead for the first 2 miles, but they did. I was heading north, into the wind, which probably didn't help. I took this from the end of the pier. I felt like a running tourist--or maybe just a running fool. I ran up The Embarcadero to the end, out the SF Municipal Pier and back, and then up the hill on the path that leads to Fort Mason. This was taken after I crested the hill. I ran around the grassy area before heading back down. A couple of years ago when I did this route I had to stop on the hilltop and rest! Two years ago, when I ran this route fairly frequently, it seemed harder. For some reason the hill seemed much less ferocious last night than I...

First, for you, flowers for reading my blog. Next, a report form day three of my full-time working life. Briefly: It's OK! I made it to the track last night just as if I'd spent only four hours at the office, not eight. I've gotten out on my lunch hour two days out of three to climb a few steps. Haven't gone all the way up to Coit Tower yet--hence the title of this post. Tomorrow I'm going to get out of the house early and either go to the gym or go for a run in an effort to start feeling like I'll be able to get a full ration of a.m. workouts in during the coming winter. Here, a report of a different kind: My injured pinkie doesn't hurt but is still bound to its neighboring finger in hopes it will straighten up and type right (typewrite?). I tell you, my brain is dictating faster than my fingers can dream of typing right now, and it is frustrating. Finally, a heart to you for bearing with me. (This photo doesn't have much to do with running, but I like ...

Wouldn't you know that the first real rain of the season would come today, long-run day for me as I ramp up for CIM , which seems to be approaching at a rate of speed that would alarm even Einstein, who contended (and proved, after a fashion, I believe) that time doesn't always pass at the same rate--it's a bit like silly putty in its malleability. Anyway, rain it did. It wasn't raining when I headed out the door around 8:30 am, but it sure was by the time I came back, well over two hours later. Last weekend I ran 12 miles on a hot Saturday and was discouraged by how difficult it was. This week my goal was to do 14--and I ended up doing 15 and not feeling too bad. I added on the extra mile courtesy of my runner friend Mac, whom I encountered out at the Richmond end of the Ohlone Greenway . He asked me if I'd ever run through the tunnel on the path's extension "over there," and he pointed across busy San Pablo Avenue. At this point I had done some add-o...

I started working on this post so long ago that I no longer have any clear idea what I had in mind for it (today is October 6). Hmmm. September was a busy month. I think my idea was to touch briefly on what went on for me. About the only way I could even remember was to look at my camera phone for the images that caught my eye as I barreled through the days. The first part of the month was taken up by our trip back to Connecticut for the wedding of my son the doctor to his sweetie the doctor. The two handsome men above are my boys. The bride and groom are with their sibs, and the dreamy flower girls complete the party. Our Miss Nat, the smaller dreamy gal, is now a veteran flower girl, having been in two weddings this year. The end of the trip for me was a visit to see my friend M in Rhode Island. I ran two mornings in a row along the Blackstone path in Providence. My last night, we stayed at M's beach house. No running, but a couple of good long beach walks. Back in the Bay Area,...

...when I'm 64...which I am this very day! Drove up to Santa Rosa this morning with four of my teammates to run the 18th Annual Phil Widener Empire Open, a PAUSATF cross-country race. (Below is a photo of the men's Masters start--couldn't take a picture of the women's Open start because I was too busy starting!) I had a wonderful time today. Driving my little Honda full of chattering women to Santa Rosa, racing with them (they sang Happy Birthday to me when I crossed the finish line), and having breakfast afterward at the Cafe Azul made my day. It reminded me of being in high school and tooling around in my parents' car with all my girlfriends, everybody talking at once, our happy energy fizzing and sparking until the whole car glowed. I came across a couple of lovely sentences yesterday when I was finishing up A Three Dog Life , by Abigail Thomas: "The past is not as interesting to me now as it was when I was young.... There's nothing I want to relive--c...

The local paper has a big story today about California's proposed $42.6 billion bullet train. Part of me is appalled at the notion of spending that kind of money when countless nonexpendible services are crying out with economic pain. But--part of me is pumping my fist in the air, saying, "Yeah. I wanna move fast!" We are human beings, and I believe that as such, we are hard-core nomads, wired for movement. To me, the most apparent evidence of this is that we run. But when I look around, I see that the innate instinct toward locomotion informs countless aspects of our civilization. Our cities--heck, our country, our very civilized world--are created around our compulsion to move our bodies (not to mention our goods and our very lives) from one place to another. I run under a train track. I live on a street, which by definition is a place for movin' right along. It's street connected to many other streets. And I take a bus home from work. Speaking of multibillion-...