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.

Dale and Cancer

In early January, my friend Dale was diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer. Stage 4 means you're on the adios track. I saw him in the hospital just before I left for Phoenix. Dale was in shock. (Or as much shock as possible while basted with morphine and Dilautin.) Suddenly all the mad scrambling for money seemed pointless. He only wanted more time with his wife and kids.

And he got it.

The doctors operated twice and removed a huge tumor from his colon. No chemo necessary. Off you go. But Dale did get a colostomy bag for the next seven months. (He told me you have to spray the inside with Pam so that poop doesn't clot the opening. There are other elements involved that don't need mentioning.)

All things considered, he thought the colostomy a fair trade. Cancer had picked up his life and tossed it off a bridge. As he reassembled the pieces, Dale found himself reordering everything: priorities, diet, attitude.

I pray his cancer doesn't return. (My cousin Mary Ann faces her third go-around with liver cancer in four years.)

But often there is hidden good in the most turbulent events.

4K Unique Visits

4,000 hits!

A wee amount in the grand world of the Web, but they're all mine!

Bwahahhahaha!

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.

Man, It's Early.

3:30 AM. I'm leaving for Pacific Shoreline Half-Marathon. This race is turning into quite the event.

1. Coaches Katie and Kate will be running for prs.

2. It's the half-marathon event for Spring Team SGV, which means a big TNT turnout.

3. Former Coach Amber lives down there and should be stopping around to say 'hi.'

4. Bay area relatives of my wife are running their first half-marathon.

5. This will be my longest run since Phoenix.

Pacific Shoreline also marks the anniversary of my first 2006 injury. Also, last year was a huge fiasco in turns of parking, hence my early start.

BTW, Go Bears!

This What

Went to a party in San Gabriel last night for TNT alum Nick. Coaches Jimmy and Kate were there along with other TNT alums Ernesto, Tiffany and PJ (Nick's wife). Huge party, spilling out into the backyard where there was a dj, taco chef, bar, and hard-drinking folks. Even the rain didn't slow things down. This was Nick's 30th birthday and I thought he celebrated well.

Coach Kate has committed to monster goals this year. In addition to her full-time job, she is bossing TNT SGV Summer Team and has hired her own coach to prepare her for an Iron Man Triathalon in August. That's something like a 2 mile open water swim, followed by 144 mile bike ride, and topped off by a marathon. ( I'm still recovering from just the marathon.) But Kate is very focused and a hard-charger. I believe she'll be successful.

By the same token, Kate believes I'll be successful in breaking 4 hours the next time I try. This led me today to plan a few races for '07. I signed up for the Disneyland Half Marathon in September because they give out a big silly medal.

And in October, the Chicago Marathon.

This is the 30th anniversary and will bring my running full-circle. Back in 1977, the year of Nick's birth, I signed up to run the very first Chicago marathon. I got a tee-shirt and race number in the mail. (They don't mail them anymore. Most races want you to attend a race expo where they'll sell you everything from water bottles to special "quick mist" that you spray on your shoes to make you go faster. ) In any case, I trained a little and drank a lot and never made it to the start line. But I vowed to run the marathon in 1978.

Naw.

In 1979 I moved to California. And so my marathon vowing continued throughout the years until 2005 when I run Honolulu with TNT.

Now I want to drive a nail through Chicago and break 4 hours there.

I'm thinking of skipping the Palos Verdes Marathon and just taking it easy until May. Then I'll start training in earnest for Chicago.

Lots 'o writing work. Still developing that manta ray show. Plus there's a new animated series that needs scripts. It's about five pieces of sushi that come to life and fight crime.

I can't say 'no' to that.

Now What?

Bummed. Ran a little yesterday and felt old and slow. Post-marathon recovery is a cruel tease. Just when you most crave running endorphins, your body is too trashed to allow a safe harvest.

For the moment, my new goal is to run the Palos Verdes Marathon in May. A small marathonlet with few hundred runners, PVM follows a hilly course down at the end of the Harbor Freeway near Point Fermin.

I could train leisurely without thought of personal records.

After that, I'll get serious.

My next goal is to break four hours.

On the writing side, plenty of development work, including a fun animated project that I thought had died last fall. It's about a manta ray who decides to help humanity whether they need it or not.

Plus it pays!

My wife will be so pleased.

TNT Winter '07 Recap

Final practice today for Team in Training, San Gabriel Valley, Greater Los Angeles, 2006/07. A handful of Phoenix veterans including Cesar, Dan Fastrup, Megan, Shannon and Tom modeled marathon and half-marathon medals for the Spring Team. Spring was about to embark on a chilly, eighteen-mile training run. We, on the other hand, took a leisurely "victory" walk around the Rose Bowl with coaches Katie, Kate and Mel.



I thought of my marathon and how I breezed through the first 15 miles. Then I fought sundry pains for the next five. Coach Kate met me at mile 20. We ran in from there, dropping walk breaks because they were too uncomfortable. We finished hard, passing most runners in the last 1.2 miles. I wobbled across the timing mat, woozy because all spare blood had drained to my legs. Kate held me up. I had knocked one hour and 40 minutes off my previous marathon time.

Sure, I'd run a strong marathon, but I was ready. I had trained hard since my cast came off in May. At first I aqua ran and worked out in the gym. In July I could run again, though not very well. Throughout the late summer and fall, I built myself up, adding hills and track and weekly tempo runs. I lifted weights and my injured leg was stronger than ever. The coaches gave me extra homework like "ladders" and interval runs. In the last week, I added mental workouts, visualizing myself overcoming obstacles during the race. Plus I had the benefit of having completed a marathon.

Furthermore I was unemployed, thus fat with time to train.

Still, my teammates' marathons were more inspiring.

They didn't have my preparation. The majority were tackling an endurance event for the first time. Many of them carried nagging injuries and all the doubt and uncertainty that brings. Megan, for example, had been hurt all season and hadn't run beyond 16 miles. The day before the marathon she was thinking of quitting after half. But on race day Megan pushed herself and commited to 26.2 miles. Dan and Mary, also dogged by injuries, ran with her. They brought each other through.

Then there was Dan Fastrup, marathon veteran, who'd just lost his wife to lymphoma in November. He gave up his own marathon time to stay with two teammates and see them safely across the finish line.

The same thing happened in Hawaii, where speedy Ryan Lim held himself back and ran/walked injured teammate Matt to the completion of his first marathon.



In the end, we all finished what we started.

A lot of heart, this Winter Team.

Frigid Start for Phoenix Marathon

Big darn anchor.

Predawn in downtown Phoenix; twenty-nine degrees. The marathon began from Wesley Bolin Plaza. In the plaza's center rested the anchor from the battleship Arizona. Runners huddled near this cold metal object, shivering in their trash bags.

I wasn't one.

I was shivering over by the UPS gear-check trucks. They would haul everyone's stuff to the finish line near Tempe's Sun Devil Stadium. Along with TNTers Cesar and Angie, we killed time talking about how stinking cold it was.

The previous afternoon, Coach Katie had presented me with two pace charts. One was for 4 hours and 30 minutes on the nose. The other was a bit more ambitious: 4 hours and 24 minutes. I was shooting for the latter time.

As the sun rose, seven thousand runners reluctantly said 'good-bye' to their warm clothes and lined up for the race. The mayor of Phoenix delivered a cheery message that came out garbled over the loudspeakers. I don't know what he said. He could've still been drunk from a fundraiser and admitted to shooting his wife. But everyone cheered anyway. It warmed the lungs.

A few women sang our national anthem a capella and off we ran. I was excited. I'd been waiting 13 months for this marathon and still couldn't believe it had just started. Rather than marvel over the obvious, I urged myself to take the first mile slow.

The day would soon warm up.

I hoped.










(Photo by Meghan Kroneman)

Nailed the Phoenix Marathon

Beyond expectations. A morose freezing start; a long chilly run; some welcome help at mile 20; and the last 6.2 miles at a hard, blood-draining pace. All that and more made this a marathon to remember.

I shattered my goal of four and a half hours to wobble across the finish line in 4 hours, 21 minutes and 45 seconds.

Thank you Jeff, K, and everyone else for your support and encouragement.

I'm still visiting family and friends in Phoenix as well as nursing sore hip flexors.

Many great stories to tell.

I'll get posting tomorrow evening.