I Finish a Marathon After 13 Years

My Finishing Time

As Winston Churchill once said: "If you're going through Hell, keep going." Achieved my goal of finishing in a certain time. That helped keep me going several times. Training is over for awhile. What ever shall I do now with all my extra time?
 

Obligatory Pre-Marathon Gear-on-the-Bed Shot

Not Really His Bed—A Fold-Out in a Back Room

Well, now it's serious. We leave tomorrow morning for our drive to the coast. Then its pick-up my gear pack including race number, check into our hotel, off to evening Mass, then a fine pasta meal. The end of Daylight Savings allows me a spare hour of sleep, but I won't. The pre-dawn hours bring with them a complicated dance wherein my wife drops me off at a shuttle bus location then goes back to sleep, then finds a parking space and walks to the finish line for my arrival around 5 hours and 30 minutes later. 

So that's it. Thirteen years have passed since I prepared to run a marathon. Pain, operations, depression, quitting running for good, stupid injuries when I didn't quit running for good, learning a complex way of covering ground that didn't stress my bad knee. It seems surreal, big. Part of me wants to stay in bed Sunday morning and not race.

But I've come this far. I want to see how it all ends.

So You Want to be Creative?

 Contains thoughts I often have on the writing life.

Better Chapter

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

Learning to Be Ineffective

 

Learning360online

Strategic Delay in Play

Here's a stunning revelation: I've gradually reached peak efficiency in teaching myself how not to finish writing projects. A recent shelf cleaning expedition uncovered a dozen first draft novels, novellas, long short stories over 5k words. Leafing through my canon I read a lot of rough but quite serviceable material. 

My pattern is to complete the first draft. Then let it simmer. Then start something new. But I never seem to return to the original draft. Plus I rarely outline, leading to me following each new shiny plot point or character so that the original tale no longer fits the new story that has metastasized into something unwieldy.

I've got hundreds and hundreds of pages, tens if thousands of words, and only a handful of completed works over the last five years. This writing malady started awhile ago, but it's really picked up steam since 2016.

The answer to more completions is not drastic: Do a simple outline. Then focus on the next word, sentence, paragraph, page, chapter. Staying locked on the process of story telling is more important than front braining a slew of new plans, approaches, and goals. 

I return now to culling my backlog. 

Old School Cops Spoof

Prehistoric parody of Cops using Star Wars Imperial Storm Troopers. Really nails the cop talk.

Alex Derevin

Outlining a Novel

 

Or a long short story. I've been experimenting with author William Miller's outline method. Designed for fast-paced action tales, this pulpish approach zips you along the writing trail as you construct your story scaffold. Having fun with the darn thing. 

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.

Ricky and Morty Began Somewhere

 

Comic Ryan George investigates the genesis of a popular animated TV series.

Screen Rant

Adam Carolla's Roommate Greta Thunberg

 Adam plays straight man to a great Greta Thunberg impersonation.

Adam Carolla

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.