Rain

Lots of it last night. With the Rose Bowl closed to the running public for a football game, Ernesto and I met at a park near JPL. The trails were strewn with run-off rocks and deep puddles; soil loose and damp; temperature lingering around 58. Despite more rain and wet shoes, it was great running weather.

My hip is still sore from Thursday. (I did my long run then — 13.3 miles.) Absolutely wasted; no drive; I've already peaked for Chicago. Injuries and illness have taken their toll. My goal now is to finish, hopefully under five hours. March was too early to begin training for an October event. Unlike last January when Phoenix couldn't come soon enough, I simply want this marathon to be over.

Working on the first five chapters of Dummy Fever. Frequent outlining develops the habit of telling instead of showing the action. I'm having to redevelop certain writing muscles.

Selling fever continues in a lower key. For bigger items such as DVDs, I'm checking out asking prices on eBay and craig's list. It'll give me an idea on how to price things.

Lots of change everywhere, especially under the sofa cushions.

Computer Woes and Track Practice

Tapping away, transcribing Dummy Fever into a back-up computer, rewriting as I go. My powerbook lanquishes in tech hosptial with no word due until Monday. Mostly, I'm concerned with losing financial data. As it is, I'm reconciling bank statements the old-fashioned way — by hand and math. It's like having to suddenly use a typewriter or an analog phone. (The kind with a dial like you see in movies.)

Ran 800 meter repeats last night at the La Crescenta high school track. Football practice occupied the field for most of my workout and I had to slow at times to avoid getting thumped with a field goal try. (Ah, it all brought back fond memories of hot August days with a hoarse coach hollering at me to stay low on tackles.)

Each track seems to have its own evening rhythm. In La Cresecenta, it's the Grand Promenade. As the sun dipped behind the Verdugo Hills and the football team headed off to shower, couples and kids and families and groups arrived to walk around the track.

Strollers clearly outnumbered runners. I had to dodge and weave quite a bit. For some reason, I was reminded of the scene from Midnight Express where Brad Davis winds up in a Turkish madhouse. Inmates are made to walk in a circle all day. At one point, he turns and walks against the grain, upsetting his fellow mad, who grab and clutch at him. For a fleeting moment, I thought that might happen to me.

Still, the run was good training for a crowded race like Chicago.



Or a Turkish madhouse.

AM Run, Writing Notes, Computer Mort

Early morning is a far better time to run in a 95 degree heat-wave. Worked in some tempo miles at 6:30 AM and had the best run in several months. Crossed paths with Katie McCollum, yet another former TNT coach. Apparently all the fashionable people finish their runs before 8 AM. :-)

Good feedback at writer's group today. Bernadette, my instructor, had a few solid ideas for my protagonist. In general, I'm working better with characters. Actually got some good ideas from reading a Harry Potter book. Rowling does a deft job describing teenagers embarrassing themselves — an activity I needed for "Dummy Fever."

Dutton passed on my other young adult novel, "The Whompago." (I've changed the title to the slightly less cryptic, "The Shifting.") I should withdraw the outline from consideration with Simon and Shuster and deepen the characters. What the heck?

I'm writing this at the Apple computer repair store, surrounded by really cool expensive stuff. But yesterday my hard drive crashed like a holiday drunk and I really need to retrieve a bunch of stuff. Hopefully, that will happen as I finish this post.

Book Outline and Pre-Chicago Marathon

Back to book outling. Every spare piece of wall in my office is covered with 3x5 cards for novel-to-be "Dummy Fever." I also looked over an outline I finished last year. The story still stands up. I think I'll retitle the tale and send it out to a a few publishers.

Countdown to Chicago has begun. Thirteen weeks to get ready. Ran on a local high school track this morning - 400 meter repeats. First time there. Apparantly 7:00 AM is the cut-off point for unimpeded running. After that, the lanes filled up with mostly people walking. At least there were no strollers, cyclists, roller bladers or dogs on 70-foot leashes.

Or perhaps I left too early?

Return to Running

Another summer, another return to running from injury.

Ran two miles around the Rose Bowl today, walking two minutes for every minute run. I've recently walked the same distance faster, but today was more about easing back in. I'll see how my leg feels tonight and tomorrow morning.

A brace of big pitches coming up in the next two weeks: an animated TV series and a live-action film involving aliens and ventriloquism. Not a lot of those on the market today.

Runlet

Walked around the Rose Bowl yesterday morning. A new TNT squad was running their first 3-mile assesment. They'll be training for events such as the October Long Beach Marathon.

No pain in my calf so I ran a bit on the last mile. (Very sore later on.) Encountered Coach Katie, Jimmy, and lots of Team in Training alums from my various seasons.

Also spotted actor Bruce Dern zipping along. He'd been featured recently in "Runner's World": a marathoner back before it was cool. He moved at a pretty good pace for a guy in his 70s.

Finished notes on a script and now begin work on ideas for a new animated series looking for story editors.

A pleasant Memorial Day to all.

Spin Class

In a normal spin workout, you ride exercise bikes. On the bikes are knobs that control resistance. An instructor will have you vary the resistance. They pedal along with the class, wearing mikes in order to be heard over the thumping of uptempo songs that mimic your jacked-up heart rate. (Instructors make their own CDs.) In general, spin classes are fast-paced, hour-long sweatfests.

Except at my gym on Monday mornings.

This was my first time at this particular class. A fit-looking, hot instructor —let's call her "Gwen"— showed up late. Not only was Gwen time-challenged, but she was out-of-shape. It seems strange to even write that. But this chick was gassed.

Ten minutes into the workout, Gwen stopped calling resistance and started wheezing into the microphone like an asthama patient being chased by a bear. Her pedaling slowed to ceremonial and she didn't speak for the next 20 minutes. In the meantime, Gwen's playlist also slowed as if crafted with naps in mind. (Artists included workout gut-busters Gary Puckett and the Union Gap.)

At the end of class, Gwen explained it was all part of a master exercise plan. The easier workouts were to be "balanced" by later harder workouts.

Spin, indeed.

Eight Miles and No Writing Gas

Met Ernesto at the Rose Bowl. His hamstring continues to heal slowly while my half-marathon rapidly approaches. So we ran different paces and distances and met back at the start line. During my run I encountered Faith and Sarah, former Fall '05 teammates with Ernesto and I.

The hills swarm with TNT alumni.

And now more writing. The script I'm working on is due Sunday, postphoned from Friday when I ran out of gas. Knowing my draft will be picked apart by fussy executives saps all initiative. I look for ways to avoid writing. Hence, this post.

However this morning I was bummed about my running and felt weak and slow. I psyched myself up mentally, then went out and performed well.

I may have to do something similar to get up for this script. Perhaps a cheer?



Space bar, space bar,
Fast and funny,
Finish this script,
And pocket the money.

Don't you care,
What they think.
They're executives,
Silly with drink.

Deadline Fatigue

Mentally sapped. Since Sunday I've written 36 pages on two animated scripts and a short story. Prose fiction averages about an hour a page. Animated stuff I can usually do much faster. In any case, I haven't been sleeping well and that's affected my running. Tried to do a five-mile tempo run yesterday and simply gave up after mile three. I went home, ate dinner, wished my wife well as she sped out to her writers' group, and crashed early, drool rolling down my chin like a great torrent.

My training schedule for the half-marathon unravels more each week. But I'll press on and adjust as necessary. My goal is Chicago in October and I still have time.

And a tidy income once all my invoices are paid.

Then more sleep.

Erin Go Bragh

And a Happy St. Patrick's Day! God bless all, especially my dear Irish family, living and dead.

Truncated running with Ernesto today. His hamstring ached from playing basketball and he bailed at the mile mark. I only ran three today because my calves hurt from overtraining. I juggled running days around this week because of work and ended up piling on mileage as well as speed. A proven road to injury. No one sets a personal best who doesn't first reach the start line.

Work continues intensely. Scripts and development. One show I'm writing is rather difficult. My scripts draw lengthy executive notes implying I can't write. Solving creative problems becomes a true test of patience and a clear sign that I need money. But I'm almost done.

And better projects await.

A parting St. Paddy's day joke:

Q: What is Irish alzheimers?

A: That's where you forget everything but the resentments.

Red Hot Running

Met Ernesto yesterday for a six-mile run. We spent the first mile dodging triathalon bikers as they sprinted around the Rose Bowl.

We passed friendly TNT faces as the Summer Team notched their first ten-mile run. There was a "double digit" barbecue afterwards and we exercised alumni priviledges by scarfing their chow.

Went out this morning for an eight-mile clip and passed Melissa and Naveena breezing along on their own long run. Hot, dry weather dehydrated me by mile 3. As in Hawaii, my brain screamed "quit," even though I wasn't running particularly fast or far.

I did what any self-respecting runner would do: I lied to my own brain. I said water aplenty waited at the finish. The brain bought it and I ran my scheduled pace the rest of the way. Just to show I'm a nice guy, I delivered and slugged down a 16-ounce Aquafina.

Another 14 pages of animation the last few days. They say strike while the iron is hot. But this stinking iron is volcanic!

Fine Whine

Still underwater with all the writing. Fatigued now. I'll stop and lie down for a few hours than back at it. I just turned in another short script (20 pages) and am waiting for the next assignment.

The L.A. Marathon was Sunday. Congrats to the Spring TNTers, especially Raul who broke 4 hours.

On Monday I commence training for my own sub four-hour marathon in Chicago this fall. Phase One will last 9 weeks and end with pring a half-marathon. To that end, Coach Katie has proscribed track workouts. Coach Melissa has taught me plyometrics to improve speed and ladders to increase foot turn-over and quickness. In addition, she's been running with me on Mondays as I add another running day to my week. After resting up, Phase Two will begin in June. I'm not sure what it'll be. But I bet there's lots of running.


And now back to what I do best.

Purple and White Blues

Ran eight miles yesterday. My long run pace feels too fast. My run/walk ratio is too low. I ran slower than my final eight-mile run before Phoenix. But I have months to increase pace.

But will I have the motivation?

I hadn't realized how much Team in Training changed me. Other than a vague goal of running a marathon "one day" I never had any destinations. Now I've set prs in the 10K, half-marathon, and marathon. I want to break four hours in Chicago, then qualify for Boston. I'm a man fat with goals.

But it's harder on your own.

Heading toward the last mile I topped a small hill and found myself engulfed by Team in Training. Both Spring and Summer teams had started their runs at the same time. They filled the street and for a few seconds I was surrounded by purple and white jerseys. I spotted familiar faces, but with the sun to my back only a few recognized me. Then they were gone. As I reached the final mile marker, I was running solo again.

At the finish line, I bumped into former team mates Ryan, Jay and Michelle. They're back with TNT, training for the Wildflower Triathalon in May. We chatted, but they had planned a 20-mile bike ride and needed to wheel.

I stretched out, then walked to my car, forgetting my brand new water bottle with the neat padded, hand strap and a compartment for key and cell phone. A wino may have it now.

Gains and losses.

Alumni Hill

I've been visiting a site called Cool Running. They have a log that lets you keep track of your runs and cross training. There are also forums where runners share race reports and ask training questions. Most participants seem decent enough but you can always count on at least one curmudgeon. ("So your IT band popped at Mile 16. People without legs never run at all. BTW, your training sucked!")

Ran six miles this morning and bumped into Chad. We stopped on a big hill and caught up. Chad was my mentor for Spring 2006. He dropped out of Spring 2007, briefly joined the Pasadena Pacers, but left to practice solo on the trails he knows best. And if you run north or south of the Rose Bowl on Saturday morning you're never really solo. There are other alumni (like me) plus two seperate teams zipping all over the place. In fact, the key is to get up and down the hills before Team in Training clogs them up. Chad's tapering for the LA Marathon. I'm thinking of going just to cheer people on. I'll know a ton of folk. Writing continues to be hectic, with contract disputes and sudden deadlines. Plus real money starting to trickle in! How very chic.

Writing and Pacific Shoreline Half Marathon

Gobs o' writing this last week: development, paid scripts, book outline. I'm juggling several projects and about to add one more next week. Can't complain and won't.

Pac Shoreline Half Marathon was a festive family/TNT event. I ran a modest 2:15. My northern cousins-in-law dropped in, with Janet completing her first half.

Former SGV Coach Amber cheered us on at Mile 11.

Katie McCollum ran the exact same time she ran last year. A new pr was in her grasp, but she stopped to assist Kate Martini who had run out of gas and stood exhausted 20 feet from the finish line. Katie got her walking, urged her in, then learned that Kate officially finished two seconds ahead, thus pring while Katie only "reaffirmed" her old record.

And the Bears played a marvelous first quarter.