Running Commentary

That's me. A senior-citizen newcomer. Oldish in years--but newish in an unfamiliar town. Today I bring you two tips for runners who abruptly move from known surroundings to a completely new environment: 1) Around midday Friday, notice that there's a race scheduled for Saturday in a town 20 minutes from your new home. Sign up online and show up at the race the next morning about 7 o'clock. That's tip #! (Full disclosure: I received this lovely medal because I was the only female runner older than 69 years. The man announcing the winners said, "First place ages 70 to 79, Elaine Merrill," and I gasped in disbelief. Then he said, "Second and third place ages 70 to 79, Elaine Merrill," and I started to laugh--and so did everyone else.) 2) The Sunday after you do the race, wake up before sunrise and go for a 25-minute walk in your new neighborhood. And that's tip #2! Have a lovely summer walking and running wherever you are!

Went out for a brief run this morning. I thought I'd deviate from my usual blog-writing habit of sitting down to write after I've come back from my run, stretched (sometimes), and eaten breakfast while reading the paper. Today I thought well, when I write about running, I'd like to be a bit more connected to my recent run. Especially these days, when reading the paper is like walking into a blizzard in a short-sleeved shirt and deciding just to ignore the weather; that is, after you've read the news, just thinking that you'll ignore it doesn't make it go away. Yikes! So here I am before having even looked at the paper and still having trouble ignoring it.  I feel like this pole I saw on my run. (Whew. Glad I'm back to writing about running.) The pole, which struck me as looking seriously alarmed about something, is part of an outdoor exercise area at the Pleasanton Senior Center. I like to stop off there during a run and do a few ugh-ughs to break up the ...

When I awoke this morning the fog lay heavy on the ground. Looking out, I felt a non-specific dread, a foreboding with no shape but that was real and scary nonetheless. This a.m. dread is not new for me--something in the way I'm wired brings it on way too frequently. In response I've developed a technique for dealing with it, so I used my technique today. It's not original with me, but I'm always happy to adopt a behavior that just might help chase the devil away.  The technique: I say to myself, "Today you have a choice. You can be fearful and negative about everything all day, or you can choose to think positive, keep yourself on an even keel, and make this next 24 hours a good--dare I say uplifting?--day. Which will it be?"  This morning I answered "Positive, please."  Then I remembered what had happened yesterday, election day in America. How to feel positive about that ? First, strip away my emotional reaction and go to the heart of what...

The title of this post doesn't really mean all my recent days have been fabulous. It's more a reminder that every week, every day, every hour, and every second are in fact the time of my life. And that time just marches on regardless of how I'd have it behave! I saw this photo of ballet dancers in the snow in the SLC airport. Though I believe it was untitled, I call it The Time of Their Lives.   Last time I wrote, I was feeling slightly injured and also concerned about two races I had coming up. Well--to keep it short--I've recovered, and the two races have come and gone;  they went well and were a lot of fun. Since then I've gone on a short trip, one that was running related only in the way that all the Times of My Life are running related--but it was a very good trip, anyway. My first stop was Salt Lake City for an overninght  visit with my friend Laury. Here she is in her newly tamed backyard.    It was wonderful to get a feel for how...

Just back last night from 13 days spent in the eastern part of the country, and I'm here to tell you, it is different from the West. For one thing, the East has about a zillion more trees--they are everywhere, not to mention the zillion shrubs. And the parts I was in seemed to have a zillion fewer cars than we have out here. Lest you think I'm disrespecting the West, I'll point out that parts of the East are so humid that just leaning on a stone wall (of which I saw many) will plunge you into a sticky sweat. None of the above is to the point. The point is my running life right now, which has me feeling, well, under the gun. For the last three or four weeks, I've been having pain in my lower back, my left hip, my left glutes, my left IT band, and so on. You get the idea. The odd thing about this chain of pain is that I don't feel it much when I run. So I run--and unfortunately, after I do, then I feel the pain.  Just some of the greenery I ran past...

A pair of 1946-vintage feet pause on a sidewalk laid in 1947. This will not be a post about the beauty of trees, the loveliness of birdsong, or the charming quirkiness often found in residential landscaping. And it definitely will not be a post about how I killed a workout, how great I felt, or how strong I'm running. Fine, you say. We know what it's not about--so what is it about? Well, it's about pain and suffering in the gritty streets of the San Fernando Valley. Let me explain. A week and a half ago I participated for the first time in the Golden Gate Relay . It was challenging and fun at the same time, and I was lucky to spend the weekend in a van with five other runners all of whom performed at the highest standard of excellence. I would say I at least did okay. But I was really wiped out last week--even coming down with a cold--and so barely ran at all.  Question: What's a No-ped and why should it cross the train tracks when the lights flash? ...

Hard to believe three weeks have gone by. Even harder to believe this is my 21st (and final) Accountability post. I'll miss doing this but at the same time I'll be relieved not to dread the whizzing by of the hours that pass while I think about posting but don't. I never foresaw many of the events of the past three weeks, including having to write about cutting back on my running in order to heal in time for the GG Relays this coming weekend. Going into Day 1, I had been running strong for a pretty long, uninterrupted time. Isn't this a sentiment that we all express one way or another many times throughout our lives? "I never foresaw...x, y, or even q. Let alone z."  I don't have a lot to report in this, my last consecutive report.  (Yes, I undoubtedly will continue to post sporadically in this space, just as I've done for more than 10 years.) What I did: So far today, and today does not cease to go on just because this posting sequence...

Penultimate post. Praying that it's pretty! Perhaps I'll plunge right in. Please play along! Primed to prattle here (oh, perfect). What I did: Walked / ran at the Berkeley Marina with the Wow gang. Although I was being so prudent (there's that letter again!) that I was more alone than with a gang. I set my interval timing pal the Gymboss for walk 1 minute / run 1 minute and occasionally parlayed it into walk 1 minute / run 2 or 3 minutes. I was impressed by how proficiently my piriformis et. al performed. Which is to say, I've been getting progressively less perturbed by pain each day. I persevered for an hour and didn't perspire too much. When and where I did it: Presumably at the Berkeley Marina, since that's what I purported a above--and also since there's a picture of a pier above in a prominent position. I didn't perambulate in the p.m.-- started my preparations at home around 6 am and proceeded to Berkeley to take part in the actual ...

Okay, I admit it. I'm counting the days until the end of my accountability blogathon. It's been a challenging but fun enterprise. It's had some of the characteristics of other commitments I've made: It's been a joy. It's been a pain. I've felt it went well. I've felt it went awful. It's helped me feel confident about myself. It's made me cringe for exposing for public consumption the dope I can be. As it's become popular to say, it is what it is. And anyway, as everyone knows, anything you put on the internet only stays there for, for...well, forever. I looked carefully as I walked across the street, but didn't sight any hot dogs. Meanwhile, it's Day 19. Here's the news that might make you snooze: What I did: Still not much. Every day I feel a bit better and so today I was encouraged. I'm easily making my 10,000 steps--this morning I walked to the Pleasant Town farmer's market and back, and have run oth...

   The sky bestows a benediction of rain-- Earth Day! People do care; witness the storm drain warning. That warm fuzzy feeling you get from seeing the warning may be mitigated a bit when you notice the random street trash heading for the grate. Plants, courtesy of the planet. Oh yes, running. I guess I'm feeling like what really old people would call a flibbertigibbet, that is (to switch to a more contemporary vernacular), like I'm having trouble staying on task. What I did today: Walked over to the gym in the lovely rain. I briefly got on the elliptical machine to see whether I might be able to use it as a stand-in for running. Nothing hurt, so I'll go over there tomorrow and see if I can ellip a few miles. What? Ellip isn't a verb?  I asked Heather the taskmaster (taskmistress?) not to tax my sore lower left side, and she complied. What I forgot to tell her was not to punish my other body parts, either! When and where I did it: 10:00 a...

The closest thing to a nature shot today: Mount Tamalpais--the "Sleeping Maiden"--peeking over the edge of a wall of urban sprawl. Another late-in-the-day post, and I have to admit I'm dragging. I woke up still hurting too much to consider running, so I decided to catch up on writing my book. What follows lets you know how that went. What I did: Packed up my computer and drove out to the BART station--would normally ride my bike but wasn't sure how my glutes and hip flexors would like that--and spent some time trolling the parking lot for a place to leave Casper, my trusty 1995 Honda. I gave up and exited the parking lot heading west. I ended up in the parking lot of the Best Western motel, about a quarter mile from the station. (Shhh. Don't tell.) I felt compelled to buy a cookie. While walking around the motel and heading to BART, I had the idea to go into Specialty's Cafe and look around. I used to buy their cookies when I worked in SF, and...

Q: What did the fish say when it ran into a wall? A: Dam!  That's kind of how I feel today. My "damn" came at 5:15 am when I had to get out of bed because both my hips were so painful that I couldn't sleep lying on either side. My comment yesterday that I was a bit stiff from Sunday turned out to be an understatement. I'm not super alarmed yet--still confident I can run in the GG Relay on April 30--but am alarmed enough to ratchet down my running for a few days. I already feel less sore now than I did 12 hours ago and am pretty sure I will be able to run gently by Thursday or Friday. In the spirit of accountability, let me describe my day up to this point. What I did: Started the daily Sudoku in the newspaper. (I often read the "paper" online, but find that marking my Sudoku answers on actual paper is a lot less messy that doing it on my computer screen.)  Other activities: Watched a bird eat seed I'd scattered on the deck rail, and ...