Welcome to WRITE ENOUGH!
Now shoved along the Ventura coast a mile or so, this 6.2 mile beach run will be a nice fun event for my wife Joy and I. I've been busy as of late with health issues—like high blood pressure—and have fallen out of shape.
Seven weeks to snap out of my lethargy and prepare.
More soon.
Stopped by the pharmacy last Thursday, received my injection and a warning about possible side effects. My arm ached pretty bad, but nothing life-hampering. But Friday I was tagged with a sharp headache, flu-like symptoms and fatigue. Most of the day was spent rising to go pee, then returning to bed for more restless sleep. Saturday, though better, still found me a bit down.
Today, I'm just fine. But losing another two running days pushed me over a ledge. Despite my glittering optimism from a week ago, I'm passing on the LA Marathon.
The "quitting stench" is absent this time. Too little distance running the last five weeks left me feeling that I'd be trashing my bodyfor another medal. I 'm fat with running medals, but not years left in which to run.
A load was lifted when I withdrew. I've been training since September for the Pasadena Half, then jumped into training for the full. I over-trained for the half and under-trained for the full. Now I've got a little time to rest and plan my new marathon move. (Sub-five, is what I'm thinking.)
So that's that. I learned a lot this go around and I'm looking forward to easing back into running once again, grateful I still can
Last week, I bemoaned the obstacles placed between myself and marathon training. Well, the most difficult is past. Now all that remains to be seen is whether I waited too long, ran too far, in too long a time and tired out my legs.
Friday, I completed 17.5 miles. That is the farthest I'll venture in training. With the race less than two weeks off, I'm now in my taper phase, lowering long run and weekly mileage and preparing mentally for 26.2. The temperature was cool and windy, perfect for a 10k. Unfortunately, I ran several hours and was chilled to the bone. Possibly, I'll face these conditions again on race day.
And while my finishing time may not glitter, I overcame one of the worst cases of the quits in 46 years. That's when I under-trained for the Chicago Marathon, then blew it off. And while I eventually ran Chicago, the stench of quitting lingered long after the event.
So I made myself run on Friday. Having done so, there's no reason not to complete the LA Marathon. Damn the street sweepters!
More soon. 👈
Yesterday, Olympic hopefuls crowded the start line in Orlando, Fla. for a shot at being one of six American runners representing the nation at this summer's games in Paris. And the winners are:
Imagine you apply for a job, go through a tough selection process, then get told: "You're hired. Welcome aboard, unless we find someone better."
Such is the case with Leonard Korir. Mantz and Young already ran automatic qualifying times under the magic number 2:08:10, begging the question of why bother with marathon trials if somebody somewhere else who didn't compete against the same field can just wander in with the correct time and snap up your spot. (Granted, you won't find many 2:08 marathoners wandering around the 50 states, but it's the principle of the thing.)
Leonard Korir hoping no 2:08's show up.
In the corny simplistic women's race where the first three finishers go to Paris, O'Keeffe rocked the house in her marathon debut. A debut, an Olympic qualifying record, and summer in Paris.
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| My Circle Story |
In past Rose Bowl races, I've been caught in traffic jams, sometimes spending 40 minutes inching toward parking, then scrambling to the start line. Today, I left home at 4:30 AM and was parked by 4:56. Then I napped for an hour and twenty minutes. Around 6:15, I ambled over to gear check, figuring I had plenty of time to hit the bathroom then warm-up. But gear check took longer than expected, and the usually long Port-a-Potty lines seemed even longer. I emerged with enough time to loosen up my joints, but not enough to squeeze a few surges.
Enough complaining about my sad preparation. The race is upon me. On Sunday I will run my first half-marathon since, oh, 2007? I reject all my negative thoughts and embrace the challenge. The Rose Bowl has been my training ground for over 20 years. I'll be on home turf.
My goal: break 2 hours and 30 minutes.
Make that 2 hours and 45 minutes. I double-checked my times. There's no way I could hold the above pace for 13.1. That's a half-marathon fever error
My last long run before the half-marathon. A slight breeze with temperatures in the 60s eased the burden of yesterday's slog up into the Angeles foothills. A hard work-out the day before meant tired legs and a slow pace. Overall, my training has been erratic. Very little speed work, lackluster tempo runs, and hardly any cross-training. I'll be fortunate to complete the half under 3 hours.
I'm prepared to skip the L.A. Marathon in March. My focus will be to regroup, pick a marathon for late spring, early summer, and apply all the same training lessons used in ramping up for the 2022 California International Marathon.
Enough whining. Time to cross-train.
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| The Bald Brothers |
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| From l. to r.: Me, Joy & Chevy Chase |
Having not run a race since last year's marathon, I only had a few 2023 weeks remaining to notch one. So I joined my wife Joy for a 5k out in Pomona. Chilly in the early morning hours. Neither of us wished to leave bed. But off we went on Saturday morning. As noted in the 5k link, I finished second in my age group out of six participants. That was enough to earn an age group medal, which is basically awarded for outliving faster runners. The course was flat asphalt, used in the warmer months for auto racing. I was stiff as a plank having not warmed up properly.
This particular 5k had a number of drawbacks including people violating course rules and running with their dogs—there are parks for that—strollers, and loose children who tend to run as fast as they can, stop, then bolt off again. I was passed a half-dozen times by the same kids.
That aside, it was a good time, with decorative Christmas cheer all about. We enjoyed ourselves, then departed for a well-earned heavy breakfast.
I'll report in soon on my upcoming half-marathon in January. All in all, I was glad I got out of bed.
Note: Here's a post from 18 years ago. This is before all my operations and various disorders when I enjoyed the fine health of early middle-age. No complaints. Glad to be around.
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| clipartpanda.com |
So back in the day, I wrote . . .
This morning I met some chums from Team in Training. We ran a 5K (3.1 mile) race in La Cañada, a northern LA suburb. I'd driven through there several times. The little hills sloped gradually, so it appeared. I predicted EZ running.
Oh, they were sly, unpleasant hills. Steeper than they looked. Finish-time eaters. If it were possible, I'd cuff them sharply.
This was very much a neighborhood race: families, parents with strollers, teenage girls running five across, and people running with leashed dogs — which I don't get. Walk the dog or run the race.
Later, Ronald MacDonald — clown, spokesman, bon vivant — led youngsters in a warm up prior to a children's race. After that, a child warmed up Ronald MacDonald prior to a fast food spokesman's race.
In any event, Happy Thanksgiving!
Yesterday I ran 5 miles for the first time in a few months. Since I was at the historic Rose Bowl, I decided on a little video at the end detailing my run. Nothing so chipper happened. The day was a bit hotter than I'd planned and by mile three, my mind was glutted with thoughts of walking, or better yet, quitting entirely. Left to its own devices on a run, that's where my brain defaults.
I ran it in, but was overheated and uninterested in anything other than basking in my car's air conditioning. Clearly, I'd been neglecting my mental training. The mind can only hold one thought at a time. Why not an upbeat, positive thought? That—and water—are what I require most on hot day running a course with very little shade.
As a general note, I am considerably slower than last year. If that's the way it rolls, so be it, but I'd hoped to ace January's Rose Bowl Half Marathon in under 2.5 hours and LA Maraton in March in under 5 hours. But time and serious training will tell.
And a little focus on the metal effort.
Not lately, however. Between illness and vacation, I've fallen out of my exercise routine. But nothing fires up the running engines than a goal. And so I signed up for the Rose Bowl Half-Marathon in January and am considering the LA Marathon in March.
But first, I need to blow off the dust and cover a few miles.
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| RunningGearLab |
Hard to believe. This YouTube business, plus my latest book, are chewing up all my time. I'm attempting to branch out into different markets for my books as well as crank out audiobooks.
Meanwhile I'm still running. Not much, usually three days a week. I fell on a run back in April and broke my left hand. (My first broken bone since 2017.) It's healing slowly. We have a big vacation planned for this summer. Afterwards, I should have just enough time to train for a late-November, early December marathon. I'm thinking something local, perhaps the Santa Clarita race. I won't be setting any new prs, but I'll be content with another medal.
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| Tara Winstead |
Running is an amazing way to stay fit and healthy, but did you know that there are some pretty awesome things about running that aren't related to your health?
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| activenorcal.com |
Lessons galore awaited me in my 7th marathon. New approaches and techniques had been incorporated into my training, lending uncertainty to the final outcome. Would these new elements cause me to bonk? Blow up? Grimace in the presence of photographers? Here's what happened.
Back in July, I was goofing around on the web instead of working on my book. Ending up on the California International Marathon website, I had a pang of nostalgia. Once, I'd signed up for the same race, intent on qualifying for the prestigious Boston Marathon. But injuries by the crate load sidelined my training and appeared to end my running career.
Anyway, 14 years later, I signed up for CIM. My 2022 training commenced with the goal of breaking five hours. But then I went on vacation. My hopes of incorporating training runs with travel fizzled. I lost two weeks.
Back home again, I only had 10 training weeks left. Some running economies would be necessary. Preparing for Surfers Point the previous year, I'd been steamrollered by my 21-mile run. Slow as I was, that distance was practically the same amount of time it would take to run the actual marathon. To keep my legs fresh, I chose to limit my longest run to 16 miles.
My goals were to finish 26.2 with a smile and only lightly brush the fabled Wall. The smile would have to await circumstances. As for the Wall, I planned on taking electrolyte paste—known as "gu" and also a popular brand of exercise paste—earlier than I normally did and staying well hydrated.
Since rain was forecast for race day, I packed the poor man's rain coat: a 33 gal. trash bag.
At 4:45 AM, rain swept the parking lot, drops beading on windshields. Boarding a drafty school bus, I was conveyed with my fellow runners to the start-line near Folsom Prison. CIM sure didn't skimp on Porto-Potties. I was able to locate one without too much hopping around. There were almost 9k runners waiting in the drizzle for the the race to start. I figured to hang out in the back, go out slow for the first few miles, than dial up the pace, hitting the second half of the race with more zip. I'd make up the time and bust five hours like dropping a dish on bricks.
Loudspeaker banter from someone, then a woman sang "The Star-Spangled Banner," then the race began. Seventeen and a half minutes later, I crossed the timing mat. Downhill, then up. That would be the pattern for most of the race. You run a little different going uphill, conserving your energy, then drop your arms and let your legs swing back on the downhill. These weren't steep hills, nothing like what I trained on, but they grew monotonous.
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| activenorcal.com |
Pretty green country with farms and horses, and people outside in lawn chairs. "You're almost there," yelled someone on the second mile. No one laughed, not even the man who said it.
I smiled at people cheering. ("You've got this.") It was a good way to pump up my own energy. But in the course of things, I let my pace lapse. By around seven miles, I realized I needed to hustle. As we ran through suburban Sacramento, past high school cheerleaders, taiko drummers, djs spinning techo mixes, musicians and vocalists, I sped up. By around the 13.1 mile mark, I was closing in on goal pace.
"It Could Be Worse," said a homemade sign, "You Could Be at Work." The overcast sky parted and we ran under a clean polished blue sky. Wadding up my "raincoat", I jammed it into a trash bag held by a teenage dude. "Watch," I said, "It'll rain now." He snorted in amusement.
Too much water; that's what my stomach said. I felt bloated. At mile 18, I couldn't touch another Gu. I also noticed that walking ached almost as much running. Between miles 21 and 22, we ascended a bridge over the American River. Coming down the other side, a man yelled, "You're on the fast part now."
Really? My legs felt as heavy as iron girders. As we entered the Sacramento city limits, a woman checked her cell phone and cried, "86.6 percent of runners have already finished." She seemed delighted to convey the information, as if responding to popular curiosity. The only runner I cared about was me. Dark clouds drifted overhead.
Best message of the day was held up by a boy of around nine. His homemade sign read: "This is the worst parade I've ever seen."
While I was holding pace, I still hadn't made up lost time. At mile 23, I took off, giving it all I had left.
Grit-your-teeth time. Everything hurt. My feet burned as if running on lava. I hoped for an injury so I could walk in.
At mile 24, the rain resumed. I was grimacing for all to see, praying the finish line would rush forward to meet me.
Then we were in downtown Sacramento. The rain eased off. The finish line was just past a jigsaw beyond the 26 mile sign. Straight then left. My wife Joy waved from the sideline. "See you up ahead," I called. Then the course hung a left dogleg and the finish line awaited
A woman passed me. An odd hobbling man passed me. To break five hours, I needed afterburners like a Titan rocket.
Wobbling over the finish line, I checked my time: missed the goal by 24 seconds.
Clearly, I should've picked up the pace sooner. I tended to weave across the course, wasting even more time. Still, I bettered my last marathon by 22 minutes. I also discovered that 16 miles is just fine for the longest of the long training runs. I didn't smile at the end, but I didn't suffer from a lack of electrolytes. I felt relatively good.
You race like you train. I trained to finish and did. If I want an afterburner, then I need to improve my chi running form, strengthen my core muscles, and set aside a dedicated running day for speed. I also need to practice marathon pace when my legs are heavy.
As we entered Christmastime, I'll allow my body rest for the next few weeks. But I'm anxious for the next marathon. Perhaps Los Angeles? Starting January 1st, I'll have a whole 11 weeks to train.
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| rt.com |
Very little on the running front lately. I'm still depressed over the Dutchman's death and don't feel like blogging or Tweeting or working on my next book. I look for reasons not to do anything. But the marathon approaches this Sunday and I'm not so bummed out that I'd eat the race fee, hotel room, or months of training.
My goal remains to once again break five hours. Last year's Surfers Point race only counted a hundred or so marathon runners. Lots of elbow room. The CIM sports around 10k. That means close contact with my fellow humans in the first few miles. So I've factored that in as an asset to slow me down when every instinct cries, "Take off!"
Despite my grief, the race must go on. As Auden said in Musee des Beaux Arts:
"About suffering they were never wrong,
The Old Masters: how well they understood
Its human position; how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just
walking dully along;"
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| sharetheoutdoors.com |
Speaking of running, my California International Marathon arrives the first Sunday of December. My training has been erratic, but I'm standing strong on my 4:59 finish. This training cycle, my longest run will be 16 miles. Because I'm so darn slow, a run of 20 miles ala last year takes almost as much time as the marathon itself. The body takes a beating and needs more time to recover. And since the benefits of long slow distance wane around three to three and a half hours, I'm game to discover the benefits of running less. (Should they exist.)
This time last year I was aglow from Surfers Point.
Let's see what kind of glow awaits in Sacramento.
'Twas suggested I post a few episodes of my work in a pleasant spot. I've chosen here. Sadly, not everything I've written has y...
