My 6th July 4th Run

 

On prior Independence Days—2007  2010   2015  2019 2021—I've run twice at the Rose Bowl and thrice at the Independence Day Classic up in Santa Clarita. All have been 5ks. All save 2015 have been formal races offering tee-shirts and—as times changed—bling.

Today I broke with precedent. While I again ran Santa Clarita, this time I chose the 10k. I can't say why. Possibly because I haven't run a formal 10k since 2008 (where I was aced out of an age-group medal.) 6.2 miles has been a jinxed distance ever since. In 2020, two 10ks were cancelled because of COVID. In the run-up to my 2021 marathon, I missed a 10k training race because my wife was ill. Something always seemed to happen.

Except for today. A sunny morning with cool morning temperatures and a small race field. This was my first race since last November's Surfers Point. In May when I signed up, I thought I'd train hard and attempt to break one hour. As it was, working on the marathon book ate up time. I ran and all, but it wasn't specific to the 10k and I ended up light on speed work.

Still and all, like races past, I slept poorly the previous night, didn't want to get up, didn't want to run, but went anyway. At 7:00 AM, off I went on a bike trail, three miles  out and 3.2 miles back. The night before I'd figured out a goal time: 1:07:00. That was two minutes faster then last summer's unofficial 10k. It seemed a reasonable achievable goal.

For the first time in a race I used the running app on my phone. I wanted half-mile splits so I could adjust my pace. It worked fine. By mile two, the race leaders were already passing me, bound for the finish line. I passed a few people, always leaning forward to give it a little gas as I did so. My hips seemed loose and flowed back on passing and downhills. 

At the turn-around, I sped up a bit. The night before, and in my car prior to the race, I'd listened to YouTube meditations for runners. It helped as I noticed myself tensing up in the neck and lower back and was able to release the pressure. 

I played leap-frog with a short woman in her thirties. She had quick loud feet. I always knew when she would pass. I caught up with her on a downhill and shot by. A guy I'd passed earlier, passed me on mile 4. On mile 5 I passed a woman, then tried to catch up with another group of runners, but they were too fast. 

As a seasoned racer, I knew to remove my sunglasses before I reached the end so as not to spoil the finish line photo. 

1:04:46.

Not bad; a 10:24 pace.

Plus there were age group awards, three deep. I finished third in the 65-69 male age group. There are speedy runners up in Santa Clarita in all age groups. I was fortunate to snag a nice little plaque.

I'm thinking of going back to bed now. If I'm planning on training for another marathon this year, I'd better make up my mind soon. But not today.

Seven Miles in May

Health and Well-Being

 

 

A perfect morning for running with the temperate in the low 60s and a nice marine layer. I focused on staying relaxed and hydrated. Now I'm done with the seven miles and working to finish the third draft on my running book. Two coaches are standing by to review the manuscript so I'm hurrying it up. (Pausing only to blog.)

And while the book is readable by strangers, more drafts await. I still don't like the last chapter. Anyway, I can start getting feedback now.

Falling While Running

I'm good at it. I have the knack. However, not since marathon training last fall have I sustained a tumble. And not since 2019 have I banged myself up so neatly.

Running two miles uphill on asphalt, I elected to tackle a substantial hill along narrow walking trails. Lizards scuttled out of my way. But it didn't take long to note that the trail was covered in scree—small rocks—over more substantial rocks. My shoes were not designed for trail running. Slipping, I scrambled up a 40 degree slope realizing I'd need to return the same way on a surface without much purchase.

Rising up before me was a sixty degree slope. I turned around. 

Too late.

The way back down was like roller skating on plexiglass. You couldn't slow down. At one point, I felt myself accelerating. Seconds away from losing control and landing on rocks, I chose the lessor of two hurtful evils: I feel into the chaparral. The tangled thorny bushes cushioned my fall but left me with the interesting markings displayed below.

No more unknown dirt trails.

Can't really see the scrape too well. It's just above the knee.

Here is a charming bouquet of wounds.

Running Book Speeding to Release

And not just any book: mine. Hoping to have an ebook version up by March 25. It's a short, snappy read about my 13-year journey to once more run a marathon. 

Be careful what you wish for.

dreamstime.com

Notes on Running Goals

womenwholifeweights.com

Busy this morning with my 2021 running recap. Last January, I totaled up my 2020 stats—ran 363 miles, etc,—then totaled the mileage on my various running shoes,* then wrote seven goals for 2021. Here they are:

1. Run consistently with excellent form. 
2. Increase cadence to 170.
3. Postpone Mesa 10k
4. Lose 30 pounds
5. Run a 10k by July
6. Run 10 miles by December
7. Use info in old running log

How did I do?

1. In 2021 I ran 623 miles. I only slacked off post-marathon and due to recent illness. My form—chi running form—wavered in its excellence. As I entered double-digit miles, I would lose focus, run sloppy, and tire myself out. More attention on form this year.
2. By September my feet were hitting the ground 170 times a minute. (I measure with a metronome.) Jogtunes explains why cadence matters to runners.
3. Race officials canceled the 10k because of COVID. I only had to call and cancel my hotel reservation.
4. By marathon week I weighed 220 pounds, down from the 250s in January. 
5. Missed July, but ran a 10k in September. (First since April 2008.)
6. On August 17 I reached the Elmer Smith Bridge, slapped the metal sign, and returned to my starting point at Lot K for another first. 
7. Rattled by the rumbling approach of the marathon, I would leaf through my old notes in an emergency. But just because the info is old doesn't necessarily mean its dated. I've got plenty of data and training tips from my TNT days. All hard-earned. I need to take better advantage of that.

Nothing in 2022?

Stlll calculating as well as checking the calendar. Since I'm already on record as stating I wanted to break 30 minutes in the 5k, consider that goal number one. Goal number two will be to break 5 hours in a marathon. (4:59:59 if you please.) That's a pace of 11:27 a mile. All I need now is select the marathon and work backwards, charting out my training weeks. (Then train properly and not get injured.😎) Let's say five more running goals will be forthcoming.

God willing, I'll update in early 2023.

prischew.com

Now, I need to show the same goal-setting dedication with my writing.

*Like cheap tires, the cushioning of running shoes wears thin after several hundred miles. And, like tires, its best to rotate your shoes during training. Replace as needed. (Or when you can afford a new pair.)

Surfers Point Marathon Retrospective

getwallpapers.com

 Hindsight is 20/20, Fella

Yes, yes, but it's invaluable when assessing a race. First off, I'm jazzed to have:

A. Finished.

B. Finished ahead of my goal time. (5:30 or five hours and thirty minutes.)

C. Finished eight minutes ahead of my goal time. (5:22:49)

A set time helped me focus and not just in training. Without one I'd have settled for "just finish the wretched thing." (In the later miles, that temptation paced in the back of my mind, then settled in by the fire for miles 21 to 24.) Or else the more diabolically commercial "just finish the wretched thing and write a little book."

Loop Courses Have Issues 

Which is saying I have issues with loop courses. I didn't before. But then I'd never run one for a marathon. Every pleasing downhill grade must be run uphill twice. In the case of Surfers Point, the longest uphill grades were on the return trip. It was psychological. I kept thinking, 'I've got to do this again."

For slower runners such as myself, everyone passes you more than once. With multiple races and a wave start, runners from the half-marathon zipped by. Fast 10kers showed me their heels. Fortunately, zero 5kers left me in the dust. This constant passing triggers a hurry-up gene often experienced while driving. You must concentrate to suppress it and remain on pace.

watchfit.com

On the Subject of Pace

 I went out too fast. I knew I went out too fast. Prior marathon experience taught me I couldn't "bankroll" fast miles early for slow miles later. I'd risk bonking, missing my goal time, shuffling across the finish line, an abject example for the young. Yet I did it anyway. My half-marathon time was 2:33 instead of 2:45. During the latter miles of the race I felt myself grinding to a halt like a car running out of fuel. The virtue of patience should be exercised in the marathon's first half, then assess. 

Training Woes 

All self-inflicted. I didn't run enough days during the week. My cross-training fell away. My chi running form decayed at longer miles and I addressed the matter haphazardly. I didn't include enough pace miles in my long runs. And I neglected to generate enough faster miles in the form of tempo runs or track sessions. 

Nothing above detracts from my warm feelings. But should I attempt another marathon—unclear today—all these points would be addressed.

And I am writing a little book on my 13-year quest to complete 26.2. 

nicepng

Last Training Run

 Taper Complete for Surfers Point Marathon

That's that. Ran four miles yesterday and will run no more until Sunday's race. My emotional state has been in flux: catastrophe—glittering success. But I'm confident now. Over the intervening years I've recalled a lot about distance running, learned more about chi running, and lost a great deal of weight. (Down to 220 pounds from 260 back in January.)

The weather is slated to be sunny and mild. Ocean views throughout. It's been a long, long time, but I'm prepared to run another marathon. 

chihealth.com

Twenty-One Miles Run and Done

 

Rose Bowl courtesy of Pasadena City College

Down in the arroyo where the Rose Bowl sits it was a southern California cold morning—41 degrees. I wished I'd brought gloves. Very nervous over whether I'd finish today. My chi running form was off. My feet burned from prior long runs and body parts hurt which shouldn't have.

Since I'd be running over rocky terrain, I waited until the dawn's early light arrived. As in times past, I focused on breaking the run into segments: six miles south, down and back to my starting point, along the Arroyo Seco Channel—a fancy name for a concrete flood control canal. Then a three mile loop around the Rose Bowl. Then two miles down and back to the south. 

After topping up my water belt bottles, it was north for five miles of mostly uphill running. Past the Devil's Gate Reservoir, past JPL, up into the Angeles National Forest. I encountered old Team in Training pal CJ bounding south along the trail. We chit-chatted briefly, then I pushed on to the Elmer Smith Bridge. From there it was five mostly downhill miles back to my Rose Bowl Lot K starting point.

Devil's Gate Reservoir courtesy of KCET

Adjustments to my chi running form really helped. But as my feet have grown with age, I found my shoes weren't large enough to handle foot expansion. This resulted in bruised toenails and, later, an emergency purchase of larger shoes. Also, the GU gel replenishing my glycogen tastes very treacly after a time. Gummi bears didn't seem as effective as back-in-the-day when I trained for the Phoenix Marathon. I need to quickly revamp my road menu. Two more long runs remain for assorted testing purposes.

Boy, did I ache the rest of the day. I'd forgotten about ice baths. Twenty-one miles marks the longest training run since a pair of 22 milers logged while preparing for the 2008 Eugene Marathon.

So now the Surfers Point Marathon seems real. My goal has been adjusted to five hours and thirty minutes. I've acquired a hotel room and need to wrap up a few more athletic loose ends. But after thirteen years, it seems I'll finally get a crack at another 26.2.

Twenty Mile Run Tomorrow

Medical Island

 

This will decide whether or not I tackle 26.2 next month. My chi running form—good enough for 3 and 4 mile runs—tends to fall apart at longer distances. I've been focusing on my form, but there may not be enough time left before race day. So I'll proceed as long as I safely can. If it feels like Mr. Injury has again come a'calling, then I'll cut it short, eat my entry fee, and work on my form. It'll take a bit longer than anticipated, but I'm finishing another marathon. 

I contemplated my first 20 mile run a mere 15 years ago.

First Double Digit Run in 13 Years

 

finsmes.com

But how? 

You're fat, old and injured!

Excellent points, all. But first a bit of crowing: they said it couldn't be done—running any distance. (At least one orthopedic surgeon uttered as much.) And for a over a decade he appeared right. But last Wednesday, I ran ten miles thanks to chi running and a generous assist from the weather.

Starting near the Pasadena Rose Bowl I loped up into the Angeles National Forest above Jet Propulsion Labs to the fabled Elmer Smith Bridge. The round-trip took me 2:12:03. I employed a modest 3x1 run-walk ratio ala the Jeff Galloway method. 

But Los Angeles is blazing hot in August!

Generally, yes, you're correct. But around 7:30 AM the mercury hovered under 70 degrees. An overcast morning with grayish marine layer, there was also a fine light breeze. I was loaded down with water and Gatorade, Gu gel, and salt tablets. Only my sunglasses proved unnecessary. 

On the last few miles I encountered a thin misting rain. It stopped suddenly as if chided. 

1075

Just like the old days, huh? 

(There's a reason you're a minor heading.) So much to relearn. My feet burned on the last mile, a sign of inadequate shoe padding. The net uphill of the first five miles exposed my training. By contrast, the bridal trails of Griffith Park are mostly flat dirt with gentle rises, not the rolling terrain, patches of rocky ground and abrupt rises of Wednesday's run. Also, I sensed a need for more weekly miles, with emphasis on tempo runs. Increasing mileage can be tricky in the midst of training.

But a corner has been turned. I'm comfortable enough with chi running to cover longer distances. I'm still integrating the run-walk method, but the efforts show promise. In addition, my weight has dropped into the 230s, a plunge of around 30 pounds from January. 

Rummaging around, I found an old pair of trainers that should wear better on the trails until I can buy new distance running shoes. 

 So then: a short three miles today, rest tomorrow, then 12 miles on Wednesday.  

Wickipedia

Yet Another July 4th Run

A pleasant Independence Day to my fellow yanks. As in July 4 weekends past— 2007  2010   2015  2019 — I exercised today, this time at a Rose Bowl 5K. This one's been circled on the calendar since I signed up in March. My time today will be used in planning training runs for an upcoming marathon in November. Yes, I've signed up for the Surfer's Point Marathon out in Ventura. An ocean-front run on a flat course in low temperatures —I'm hoping. While thousands enjoy the LA Marathon, a thousand or less will run two loops to a chorus of breaking surf.

As for today, I slept poorly last night, nervous about the race. I'd trained to break 33 minutes, specifically a goal of 32:59. But I didn't want to leave my bed and the air conditioning. My wife was joining me today and we drove out to the fabled Rose Bowl in Pasadena. One thing about arising early for a run are the spectacular dawns. Alas, my windshield snap doesn't do the sky justice.

So no pre-race goodie bags, technical tee-shirts, and timing mat sensors located in the race bib. All the race volunteers wore pink shirts. A group of assisting ROTC students in mostly forest camo also wore pink shirts. Someone should tell them that pink is a terrible tactical color. Hopefully, its just a fad. 

A group of Arab students from USC stood in a knot laughing and joking as the national anthem played. Of course, the sound system was anemic and many of the surrounding Americans also laughed and joked and took selfies. But general applause erupted at the conclusion of the song. So maybe we'll go another year without replacing the Star-Spangled Banner with Cardi B's "Wap."

Started out fast and wanted to quit after fifty yards. Then I wanted to slide over to the far right hand side of the course and walk. I was breathing hard but not gasping and felt I could hold the pace. The temperature at 8:00 AM was nearing 80 degrees. I know every dip and bump and rise in the route around the Rose Bowl, so I was able to relax somewhat and focus on my chi running form. I felt slow. People were passing me. Past mile 2, I passed a few people, picking up speed on such downhills as existed. In the final stretch, a 28-year-old guy blew past me, but I managed to tie him at the finish line. 

A pleasing time of 31:51.

I waited for wife Joy to wrap up and it was off to breakfast. Now I'm happy I got up and happy I didn't slow down or walk and happy I raced today. 

 

Run China and Die

 

voxpolitical

Okay, three running posts in a row. You'd swear it was 2007 again. I'm nowhere near a marathon in China or America. Today I ran a pleasant 2.5 miles, experimented with 2x1 run/walks, and didn't keep overall time. This is my step-down week and I intend to rest. Weather conditions were sunny, in the high 70s.

Meanwhile at an ultramarathon in northwest China:

Survivors gave shocking testimony of events on the rugged mountainside, where unconfirmed meteorological reports to local media said temperatures had plunged to as low as minus 24 degrees Celsius. [-11.2 Fahrenheit]

Recalled one surviving runner:

"My limbs were frozen stiff and I felt like I was slowly losing control of my body. . . I wrapped my insulation blanket around me, took out my GPS tracker, pressed the SOS button and lost consciousness."

He said when he came round he discovered a shepherd had carried him to a cave, placed him by the fire and wrapped him in a duvet. [A form of bedding.]

Read more here.

The article didn't state if the deceased runners had their organ harvested. Perhaps a later edition will update us on this robust custom. Of course, being dead prior to the harvesting leeches some of the fun from this Chi Com practice. 

The Heavens Align for a Good Run

weekendletter.com

 

Well, perhaps nothing that grand. 

But I ran four miles today, dashing out early to take advantage of the marine layer over the LA basin. As I was working my way into mile four, out popped Mr. Sun. I finished up before the temperature rose another ten degress. 

Two things to remember from todays effort:

1. I did not want to run this morning and considered putting it off another day.

2. I did not want to run on pace. 

3. Now I'm quite pleased that I ran and. especially. pleased that I stayed on pace.

How odd, the human mind. Mine seems to want to do just enough to get by, whether in exercise, writing, finance, my relationships. Sometimes not even enough to slide along. As I mentioned last month, I need to plan my actions, execute my plans and adjust as I go, always with a goal in mind. Otherwise, the default is ambling through life waiting for the end. 

Here's an intriguing short video on dealing with stress and achieving goals. 

Productivity Game

Running Once Again

 

dailyencouragement

Back in November, I really hurt my knees. Overtaining and incorrect running form combined to knock me onto the couch for two months. Last week, I was able to slowly run three times. Humbling. And not like I haven't been here before. Naturally, my weight ballooned thanks to a combination of relentless work load and no exercise. 

Lost ground must be recovered gradually or I repeat the whole discouraging process once again. 

Thoughts on My 2020

A Land Remembered Journal

2020: I thought last year's post below was pretty comprehensive. Sadly, running—and weight loss—didn't pan out as I'd hoped. Back in November I injured my knees by forgetting everything I knew about chi running and attempting to "boost" my locomotion with extra force. And I'd been doing so well. In October I ran 48 miles for the month—the most since February—including 5 and 6 mile days. I had recovered from my spring Chinese Covid slump enough to enter a Virtual Challenge and was crushing it. Plus my wife and I were signed up for a 10k in Mesa, Arizona slated for February 2021. (We're going to Mesa anyway, just not to run.)

Self-inflicted running injuries are the absolute worst. No one to blame but yourself and I HATE blaming myself.

As for writing, it blossomed as in former days. I finished several short stories, including a whopping 12k word job. Sending them out wasn't resulting in sales, though the rejections were generally polite. So I assembled this year's crop along with stories dating back to 2009 and published the lot—all nine—in ebook form. Death Honk is out now on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Apple, Kobo, and more. The paperbacks will arrive in January. This is the first fiction book I've published since 2016. I bask in such warm accomplishments.

But writing is only a fraction of the battle for the indie author.

Unlike previous book launches, I obtained a few reviews in advance. Also, unlike previous launches, I bit off a good chunk more than I could chew. By attempting ebook and softcover launches on Amazon and Draft2Digital, I found each platform operates with different rules. So four sets of formatting required attention, eating up time with an appetite most voracious. Because my wife and her vast publishing experience were unavailable—I never interrupt her paying work—I was forced to hunt in the freelance veldt. The woman who proof read Death Honk was outstanding. The man who formatted the print version less so. As mentioned elsewhere, the cover designer rocked. 

No audio version for prostate, but I think that line has been jumped by Death Honk. We shall see how 2021 shapes up. I'd like publish a second edition of Hallow Mass with a new cover, add it to Draft2Digital, then write the second volume. Plan meet life. And for the second time in a paragraph I'll say: we shall see. 

This November marked fifteen years of blogging. Over 2k posts with entries topping 100 for the first time since 2012. Not that my traffic is that hot. But inconsistency carries a cost. I've really come to loath social media. (Do watch The Social Dilemma.) But I should examine which platform provides the most pop sales-wise for an author's effort. 

Canva proved a useful took in developing my own promotional materials. Even a digital butter fingers such as myself was able to figure it out. I highly recommend the website.

I end 2020 in reasonably good health, awash in efforts to publish two separate paperback versions of my anthology and eager to see what the future holds. 

And a Happy New Year to you!

The Express

Conquer Catalina Island Virtual Challenge

Conquer Catalina Island Virtual Challenge: The Conquer Catalina Island Virtual Challenge is on Thursday October 1, 2020 to Thursday December 31, 2020.

I sneered at such activities as a virtual challenge. But in the absence of true road races, my wife, Joy, and I are onboard for a hundred miles. In return for our efforts, we receive durable electronic trophies plus a tee-shirt.

What's amazing is that even a fey virtual challenge goads my big ass out of the chair and onto the road. I'm running a bit more per week, gradually increasing speed.

So on we go. I'm over 30 miles, a quarter finished. Updates here on this fine blog. 

 

EZ Morning Run

Learning to Live

Out on the trails before noon. Three miles and back home before it got any hotter.

I received an email from the LA Marathon. They said if I sign up and the event is cancelled, then I can credit my race to a future marathon. Basically, send us money today and you might get a number next year or so.

Deal?

Well, it beats hiding out from old Wuhan Virus.

Running Update and Pink Cataract

greatruns.com

 So rare, but I will report even though there's not much going on other than consistency. (I suppose that's something.) I am consistently running three days a week. One of my favorite spots in Griffith Park is overrun with unemployed runners, walkers, and dog-walkers. Filthy grandma-killers! (Notice I choose an image uncluttered by humanity, save for a solo Everyman.)

Last month's post mentioned my general aversion to virtual races. (There's no reason everyone can't qualify for Boston this year.) I also allowed that I might run a marathon with volunteer witnesses. However, my training could be curtailed once more for medical reasons. This time it's cataracts.

They've been around awhile, I never noticed anything until recently when my computer screen seemed a bit murky, obscuring certain naked Russian girls important story point. Rather than procrastinate until I'm wandering around with a tin cup and a cane, I'll attend to matters now. Unless something goes horribly wrong, I doubt there will be a book on this procedure. At least, I hope so.

Another Story Du Jour coming soon.

Running in a Time of Pandemic

Criminal Profiling

Well. The City of Los Angeles has closed Griffith Park. The City of Pasadena has closed the Rose Bowl. The County of Los Angeles has closed the trails above the JPL labs. With all my favorite routes off-limits, where do I run?

Coming off a lower back injury back in early March, the streets around my place are the most convenient. Alas, most of them feature speeding traffic and go uphill. That means a robust start to any run, followed by a speedy descent that requires managing to avoid stressing my knees. The upside is that I should be a pretty darn strong runner when the pandemic ends.

A small quake-let centered in the San Diego area shook the living room last night, leading me to wonder about the fate of social distancing in a major temblor. I decided not speculate too deeply.

Anyway, we're keeping our spirits up and hoping for better days.

May safety follow you about in these interesting times. 

Fear of Elderly Male Runners

WBUR Maybe it wasn't this crowded. 

Running in Early 2020

Normally, I don't run Saturdays and I most certainly don't run in Griffith Park. Like the Rose Bowl, the park's trails are alive with runners, almost all of whom are faster than I. One also encounters a fair number of runner/dog walkers.

Gerontophobia

Alamy There was a dog, too, and no track. Just read the copy

Leading a little mutt on a leash, this chick in her thirties zipped past me. Fine. I'm used to it. A few hundred yards ahead, she slows and allows her mutt to nose around the leaves on the side of the trail. I continue on pace. But as I near her location, she tugs the dog by the leash. "Come on." Off she goes at a good clip. Whatever. I continue on pace. Rounding a curve, I spot her again, letting the mutt sniff away near a telephone pole. This time I ran past her. Behind me I hear, "Come On." Yanking the dog along, she speeds up to pass me. This time the woman burned some calories. At one point, she turned around and checked the distance between us. Then I lost sight of her.

When young male runners find themselves passed by young female runners they call it being "chicked," I believe there's a corollary. Gerontophobia is fear of the elderly. From my observations, I suspect certain young women detest being passed by older men or "fossiled." Having coined the phrase, I will now translate it with my college German:

 Befürchtungen Alte Männer

Brittanica A German scholar.

Nothing says dead serious like a German translation. So now you know two words and a phrase to describe the aforementioned condition:

1. Gerontophobia - far too formal.
2. Fossiled - Just the right touch of breezy American slang.
3. Befürchtungen Alte Männer - Only if you enjoy being a snotty show-off.

Choose whatever you will, but I suspect such a phobia may've been in play on this chilly morning.

Black Days in 2018

Without creating a link web that no one ever follows, 2018 was a brutal year for my physical fitness. In toting up my 2019 mileage, I noticed I didn't really start fully running until July. (That means running my training distance with zero miles walking.) Curious, I checked my stats for '18. In June, I injured my good right leg—not the benighted left leg—climbing over a construction fence. And that was it. Save for a brief half-mile, I did not run again for six months. And I did not resume where I left off for over a year. No wonder I weighed 271 pounds.

More news on a possible marathon coming soon. Soon. Oh, so very soon. Did I tease it enough? SEO, SEO, click, link, SEO.