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.

Mental Toughness Practical Applications

 

bobandrosemary.com

If I lost anything since the twin deaths of animation writing and marathon running, it was a certain hardy mental attitude. When combined with chasing little dopamine hits on the Internet, the decay has proved devastating. Over the last thirteen years, my unfinished writing projects have multiplied while my weight has ballooned. At one point I went over a year writing folders of prose without completing so much as a short story. During the same period, my weight topped out at 271 lbs with a svelte 48" waist. 

Mental toughness was easy to see in exercise. Pain and discomfort are present. To push past them requires effort. I would allow myself to quit after five seconds of such effort. I usually lasted longer. Gradually, I acclimated to stressing myself. Pushing hard on certain workouts became the norm. The payoff was on race days.

In writing, mental toughness exhibits itself every day in a series of little nos. No to checking email, or social media, or watching one short YouTube skateboard fail. No to stopping early or quitting a project to begin a new one or hating everything you've written. Perhaps no is not the word. Perhaps its the phrase "maybe later."

As in exercise, the ability to apply the phrase can be built gradually. "Let me write one more sentence." "I'll first reach the end of the chapter." "This isn't too bad. I'll keep going a little longer."

Sadly the Internet trims your attention span and flushes out new knowledge with newer knowledge or, worse, trivia, ensuring that nothing stays in your head long enough to become wisdom. As I train for a 5k in July, I decided to reacquire mental toughness. If in running, then why not in writing?

Here's a book I used to help prepare me mentally for the 2007 Phoenix Marathon. It's so old, there's not even a Kindle version. But I'm returning to its pages for inspiration and techniques to help me grow as a runner and a writer.

Five seconds here, a maybe later there. It adds up like compound interest.

Frosty Final Runs Before Phoenix Marathon

Yes, indeed. The Rose Bowl is in a canyon. This canyon is colder than the surrounding hills. Car windshields are frosted over in this canyon.

In other words, practice was stinking cold. Once we left the canyon and ran up into the hills, it was cold there as well. Frost on the grass with a blinding sun in skies swept clear by recent storms.

Last year, my final practice runs were in similar chilly temperatures. Not as cold as today, but brisk nonetheless. Then I went off to steamy Hawaii and broiled out at mile 19. If I ever run Honolulu again, I'm going to practice starting in August wearing double layers of clothes and a plastic-lined jacket with a built-in heater. Then I'll go home and sit before a fire.

Two weeks to Phoenix. I'm excited, fired up, stoked. I wish it were tomorrow.

Then again, I"m glad it's not. I would have to start packing.