A Runner Returns to the Scene of the Ouch
A decade ago, almost to the day, I broke my fifth metatarsal running a 5k with Team in Training. I was gearing up for my second marathon in San Diego and really wanted to nail it. Jeff Carroll walked me back to my car and said I'd probably cracked the bone. Naturally, I didn't believe him.
I should have.
Trading crutches for a walking cast was delightful.
Time passed, I ran again, set prs, and was injured once more in 2008 and that's pretty much been the end of my racing life. I did a 5k in 2010 and another the next year, but seemed to develop a pattern of running for three or four months, usually no more than 3x a week, then suffering knee pain and backing off. In between there were knee and shoulder operations, plus a skin cancer surgery to vary the routine.
Four years ago, I wearied of my accordion-like training pattern and chucked running for good. So long. Thanks for the medals. I took up eating instead. And added a prostate cancer operation for good measure.
Finally, back in January, I reached a point of absolute disgust with my own physical deterioration and signed up for a 5k. Having dabbled in chi running for the last eight years, I decided to recommit. If done correctly, the technique results in minimal pounding to the knees.
So I've been running 3x a week, no more than 3 miles a session. I don't sweat pace and often don't take a watch. All I concentrate on is my form. So far, I've dropped ten pounds and whittled three inches off my waist.
And this morning, I once again finished the Santa Anita 5k.
What has changed over a decade?
No more plastic tie strips as the chips are now inside the bib.
A mere 5k offered a technical shirt, plus finisher's bling of better quality than I've received for marathons.
A small drone circled the start line shooting video.
Compression socks are all the rage.
So are selfies at every stage of the race. (It's only 3.1 miles, not Badwater.)
What's the same?
Excitement, anticipation, goodie bags, kids running like mad through the pack, running out of gas, walking, then running like mad as before.
Here is my time from ten years ago. I ran almost the entire first mile in around eight minutes before twisting and rolling my ankle.
Hard to see, but hobbling along I finished in 37:41, averaging 12:07 a mile.
Here is my time from today:
Forty pounds heavier and ten years older I averaged the same pace and finished five seconds faster.
Eerie.
But rewarding.
So I'll relax today, do some yoga tomorrow, and run three miles on Monday, always working on my form. It would be nice if the running continued as I do enjoy it out of all exercises.
On the subject of enjoyment, if you're in the mood for a creepy horror novel, feel free to enter Goodreads Giveaway for my latest book: Hallow Mass. 15 signed copies are being distributed free of charge. Just click to enter. The postage is on me.
Hallow Mass is also in pre-order on Amazon and will launch April 29.
Have a kind robust weekend.
UPDATE: Safety pins are still used to attach your race bib to your shirt.
The last tenth of a mile is run on the Santa Anita race track proper. Ten years ago it was thick dry dirt, like running in cotton. A decade anon, thanks to the rain, it was an oozing quagmire. A truck had driven along the track earlier and people were lined up Indian style, running one after the other because the tire track was the hardest surface. To pass, you had to slop out into the muck and punch the gas. It wasn't worth the effort.
UPDATE: Safety pins are still used to attach your race bib to your shirt.
The last tenth of a mile is run on the Santa Anita race track proper. Ten years ago it was thick dry dirt, like running in cotton. A decade anon, thanks to the rain, it was an oozing quagmire. A truck had driven along the track earlier and people were lined up Indian style, running one after the other because the tire track was the hardest surface. To pass, you had to slop out into the muck and punch the gas. It wasn't worth the effort.
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