Time on My Feet

Ran 50 minutes yesterday, the most since early Sept. Some knee soreness but not much, and no pain this morning. I've been using the dirt horse trails at Griffith Park, the dust tamped down from last week's rains, locomoting at a modest 1:2 run/walk ratio. I'm happy to be able to do any sustained exercise.

Writing daily. I'm stalled again on my projects three, but I'll untrack and finish them. Today, I loath their every clause, comma and contraction. But that will change, I'm thinking, once they're completed.

And now I've completed my post.

Dead Race and Ruegger Art

Running on empty might describe the late Pasadena Marathon. Cancelled due to poor air quality, the race recently sent out an email asking for donations so as to hold the race in March. A tough tumble, considering all the work undergone to get it ready in the first place. Not to mention bummed out runners who peaked without a payoff.

Tom Ruegger recently drew many pages of fine characters. (Like the confused fellow above.) Paul Rugg and I will attempt to attach voices to him and others this week. As Hollywood is mostly closed until late January, its our way of generating work.

Until then, we'll live on left-over turkey.

Mysterious Gym

Working out at the gym yesterday on the cross-trainer. From behind me come a series of moans, like someone with a bad stomach ache. Looking around, I see a guy on a treadmill behind me making these odd sounds. His head lay down across the machine as if grieving. The sounds stopped, then started again. Short and long, grunt/moan combos. I considered asking him if he was Okay but didn't, just in case he wasn't.

Finishing up the cross-trainer, I moved to the treadmills to cool down. Everyone was giving the Moaner a wide birth. I found a machine in the second rank and started walking. Now I'm behind the Moaner. He finished up his workout, appearing quite refreshed. Fumbling around the floor, he grabbed a white and red, official blind man's cane and tapped his way down to another treadmill. Quietly, minus any interesting vocals, the Moaner began another workout.

Having once lived with a blind roommate, I know there is no correlation between exercise and blindness. Maybe that one treadmill brought back unpleasant memories? Maybe it was the machine, intolerant of the handicapped? This is but one of many stories in the mysterious gym.

Practice today saw the Phoenix marathoners running 16, and a solitary Honolulu walker going 18. I ran and walked about half of what I did last week with only minor knee pain. As a few of us waited for the walker, Liz and Inez made an In-and-Out run. What impressed me was how many people ordered by menu number. (Me: #3.)

Now I'm home and sore.

But not moaning.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Home with MDW and the mom-in-law, enjoying not going anywhere. All the best!

Nowhere for the Holidays

As far as running goes, at least. After zipping around close to 15 pain-free miles on Saturday, my knee is now sore after a 3.5 mile Monday run on dirt trails. Ice, ice, stinking ice.

Big fat downpour at the end of track practice last night.

Two of our walkers, Larry and Kim, are looking strong. Both have overcome injury, lost a lot of weight, and are pressing ahead to complete 26.2. I recall their shaky confidence back in August. Seeing them grow in strength and ability makes coaching a blast. Each season I'm privileged to observe the human spirit in action as TNTers face and overcome limitations.

Plus, I have a blog where I can publicly grumble about mine.

Bailout Mentality

If a coach taught runners to train for a marathon by wearing iron boots and those runners were badly hurt, and no more runners went to the coach, and he was about to go out of business, but the government stepped in and gave him thousands of dollars to support him while he brought in new clients - would this be wise?

Running at Practice Again

Not more than a few miles at time, but steady. Running and walking with team members today, especially the Honolulu folks doing 20 miles, got me a 13.7 mile workout. Knees are a bit sore, but not too bad. I got to practice chi technique and felt a bit more comfortable with it.

Acres of alumni out today, including Kelly from my first season in fall 2005. Also saw David, recovering well from his cancer operation.

Speaking of the big C, I'm off to see Dale tomorrow and learn how this week's chemo went. If he wasn't doing well, he wouldn't have invited us over. A good sign, as these things go.

Chi Run Refresher

Met with local chi running instructor Kathy this morning for a refresher course. Since my Oct. workshop, I've been nursing my knees and gradually growing stronger. She was a big help in pointing out little areas where I hold tension. Like t'ai chi, this running style collapses when tightness is present - which blocks chi flow.

Lunch today with former TNT coach Katie. She's also looking for work. I'm hoping she gets a job soon and hires me. How's that for taking charge of my fate?

Still writing on a bunch of projects, though I've fallen off the last two weeks. Time to recommit, get these things finished so I can goof off in style.

Empire of the Old

Drove out to see my cousin yesterday in Sun City. Located in Riverside County near Perris, this is a community where you must be over 55 to live. (I would qualify.) My cousin has a psychotic cat, overamped on feline energy. Psycho Cat enjoys perching atop the TV where it has a better view of the front door. As I entered the apartment, the cat bit me on the wrist bone.

My cuz assured me "Tabby" never bites anyone. Basking in the warmth of this unique status, I cleaned the wound and put on a Band Aid. Outside the bathroom, Tabby waited. She hissed and swiped at my ankle. I kicked and missed. She swiped and missed. I kicked again and connected as if booting a 40-yard field goal. Tabby sailed into the bedroom, thumped to the floor and scrambled under the bed. I slammed the bedroom door.

"But she never does that."

"Let's go eat."

Every restaurant and mall abounds with the elderly. At the coffee shop where we ate, the muzak featured songs from the 50s and 60s ala Jay and the Americans. We each had the over-55 soup and half sandwich special that included a dessert of cake and heart medicine. Afterwards, we sat outside her apartment and talked family and politics until it was time for me to drive 90 minutes back to L.A.

"She never bites anyone."

"Except me."

"Except you."

"Trade the cat in for gold fish. They're safer and if they die suddenly, who cares?

She thought it over. "I might."

Next time I visit, I'll be wearing steel gloves.

Fire Cancels Track Practice

TNT coaches want to let the air clear up more, hence no track practice tonight. Nevertheless, I ran yesterday using the newer chi running method and the older walk breaks. I finished a 3.1 mile lap around the Rose Bowl without knee pain. Very slow, but still my longest run since September.

With Pasadena cancelled, runners scramble to find new marathons. In general, a runner likes to finish the last 20-mile training run three weeks before an event. This allows the body to recover in time for maximum effort on race day. But without a clear event to work backwards from, "peaking" becomes hit and miss. Plus training adaptations must be woven into last-minute travel arrangements should the new marathon be some distance off. (Las Vegas and California International Marathons are the first week of December. I'm not sure if there's anything local closer than that.)

Good hunting to my fellow runners.

Marathon Scratched and Other Thoughts

Ash and smoke ended the inaugural Pasadena Marathon. Winds are dying down, but the air still smells like a fireplace. We've got the windows shut, but the burning scent seeps in.

Off to visit my pal Dale tonight. Dale was diagnosed with colon cancer in 2007. Near death, he successfully battled back, returned to work, and readjusted his priorities, realizing family and friends were more important than the many business deals that previously occupied his life. Now cancer has not only returned, but spread to liver and bones. Doctors are giving him three months. Maybe so. Dale's going through the grief process, but still determined to fight. Several of us visit on Sundays just to call him names and let him know he's remembered and loved as Dale enters the ring for what may be his last round.

For a man to struggle back, learn priceless lessons, then be terminally decked seems most unfair. There's a blog I read occasionally called The Anchoress. Its author lost a brother to illness and wrote on the painful troika of death, suffering, and dignity. Her conclusions allude to a subtle spiritual weaving between dying and comforters, an exchange of graces, a transfer of blessings, including humility, charity, and the self-awareness that our actions count because we're all on borrowed time.

I tend to miss the subtle. I usually want someone to be responsible for my loss so I have an object to focus pain, anger and bitterness upon.

Lost marathons, burned homes, and death rank differently on the hierarchy of hurt, irretrievable in degree. Loss would seem to be the norm in life. Our response allows us opportunities to deepen and grow. And if loss is inevitable, then what we have is all the more precious. If nothing else, I hope to remember that today.

Hill Fire and TNT

A hot Santa Ana blew this morning at 6:00 AM as Santa Barbara and Sylmar were charred by wild fires. At practice, Honolulu participants ran 18, while Phoenix marathoners did 9 to 16 miles depending on their injury. Temperatures rose throughout the morning and by noon, when the last walkers strode in, it was in the high 80s. However, with the Pasadena Marathon tomorrow, TNT had the trails pretty much to ourselves. Just like the old days.

The air stinks like ash.

Put in eight miles as I walked around with team members. I should be Okay for the half marathon tomorrow. Though it'll be hot, bad fire air is the big concern for many runners. Send prayers and good thoughts to all the people who have lost their homes.

Year 3!

Today marks my third year of blogging.

12,252 visits.

22,481 page views.

More t/k.

Running and Silent Library

Another fall, another Tuesday night track practice. After the coaches sent the team to do timed 800 meter runs, I loped around, putting in two miles. That's the longest sustained run since early Sept. No knee pain, but I stopped early, not wanting to press the matter.

I'm excited about Sunday. Even though I'll be walking the Pasadena Half Marathon, it'll be my first race since San Diego back in June. Not that I'll be racing. It'll be more like walking in a parade. But a fun parade without equestrian units.

Some website had a link to a Japanese game show called Silent Library. Six guys sit around a table in a library. They must be quiet as they turn over cards. Anyone turning over a skull card is punished in really odd, painful ways. I'm not sure how you win or even if it is possible to win. But I'm hooked.

Veterans Day Thanks!

A shout-out to the men and women of our armed forces. Stay as safe as you can doing the work you do. God bless.

Happy 233!

Captain Sam Nicholas founded the USMC at Tun Tavern in Philadelphia, Nov. 10, 1775. On we go into our third century. Semper Fi!

Team in Traction

Unexpected warm weather and long distances combined to make today an injury-riddled practice. One mild case of heat exhaustion and three knee injuries had the coaches earning their pay. (Or in the case of assistant coaches Alfredo and I, our symbolic, volunteer pay.) Honolulu runners and walkers put in 18 miles, while Phoenix marathoners logged 16. I walked briskly here and there for a total of 9.7 miles. No knee pain. I think I'll try walking the Pasadena Half-Marathon next Sunday. Won't that be fun? I think so.

At the Mountains of Demographic Madness

Overlooked in the election post-mortem lay an interesting demographic. In addition to winning most categories and income levels, president-elect Obama sewed up votes from all the Great Old Ones.

This race of telepathic, star-born beings almost sat out the election behind their dimensional portals. However a federal judge in Arkham, Massachusetts, who had just ruled that a homeless man could list a park bench as his residence, declared that any dimension opening over U.S. soil clearly could be considered "home" for voting purposes. Obama campaign lawyers, armed with copies of the eerie Necronomicon, immediately spread out across New England.

In cities such as Innsmouth and Dunwich, the attornies bellowed out a series of brain-bending spells that ended with them slaying kidnapped women and shrieking, "Ia, Ia, Barack fhtagn!!" The spells successfully released colossol monstrosities Yog-Sothoth, Dagon, Azathoth, Nyarlathotep, and Cthulhu. The lawyers issued them provisional ballots and a Democratic party voting guide before they were devoured, screaming in madness.

Later, two brave professors from Arkham University shut the dimensional doors, returning the Great Old Ones to various eldritch lairs. But not before they had voted and been questioned by pollsters as to why they broke for Barack.

Dagon felt that Obama's environmental plans would better protect his watery city, deep beneath the reef off Innsmouth.

Yog-Sothoth could not point to any one thing, but hoped Obama's radical change meant that he intended to topple cities and wash himself in the blood of the terrified inhabitants.

Cthulhu liked that Matt Damon was voting for Barack.

Afterwards, the pollsters were devoured, screaming in madness.

Dark Horse via The Onion

Voting Machines Elect One Of Their Own As President

Arcane News

Congratulations to president-elect Obama.

Conspiracy theorists point out that "Obama" spelled backwards is "Amabo."

They go on to reveal that Amabo is the name of:

A. A swank eatery mentioned in the Kabbalah.

B. An old Star Trek villain.

C. A nickname for a guy called Amab.

D. A Zulu word for warthog pellets.

E. Too cryptic for you to understand; too intricate to explain; but I get it!

Smattering

Of rain and TNT runners yesterday. Most of the Team ran or cheered up at the Santa Barbara Half Marathon while a few kept a practice going at the Rose Bowl. Despite lightning, swirling winds, and a brief but heavy rain, a handful of runners and walkers finished 12 miles. I walked the last 3.1 with Larry. It was the longest I've been on my feet since early September. A stiff back and a few knee twinges, but otherwise Okay.

Next week I'll try walking a few days and see what consistent use brings to Recovery Fest '08.

Pumpkinhead

On this most spooky of days, a tribute to composer  Richard Stone.

Seasonal Ode

A few minutes commemorating All Hallow's Eve.

Vote!

These people will tell you why.

Gibbon Activist Slain!

Write Enough has obtained information suppressed by the L.A. Times. Undisclosed sources report the Times has possession of a video tape showing the murder of gibbon activist Ingrid Bunt. An outspoken defender of lessor apes, Bunt believed they were as intelligent as humans and superior to teenage males and members of congress. In 2003, her body was found on Monkey Island at the Tucson Zoo. Police believed Bunt was murdered while attempting to register gibbons to vote.

Long thought to have been slain by nomad bums, Bunt was killed by gibbons. According to sources, the footage shows Bunt holding out a form to a gibbon while she pantomimes signing. The gibbon distracts her with cute, touching gestures that indicate understanding. Meanwhile, a second gibbon creeps up behind Bunt and riddles her with a Glock .40 caliber. Tossing the pistol into the moat, the gibbons emptied Bunt's purse, ignoring credit cards but keeping a compact mirror and a package of mints. Later, footage showed one gibbon using the mirror to direct sunlight into the eyes of a mountain goat. The second gibbon traded the mints to a female in exchange for sex and flea removal.

What is the Times afraid of? Release the tape today or be branded "monkey pawn." Of course, nowhere in all this do we learn of any gibbon remorse. To this day, they loll about their island, well-fed, waiting, waiting, waiting.

TNT '08 Plus Ape Notes

That how it felt yesterday at practice. We start the walkers off an hour earlier, separating them from the runners. And with injuries and no-shows it seems we have fewer runners than ever. I believe the Pasadena Marathon hurt TNT's recruiting this season. Why sign up for a race in Honolulu or Phoenix when you have one right in your own backyard? Plus there's no fund raising to sweat.
For over six weeks, injuries have prevented me from running with the team, which is where you really get to know people. I'm feeling TNT disconnect.

Slow healing on the knee doesn't help my mental state. I was prepared to be healthy again a week ago. Alas, my body didn't get the email.

Still there's plenty I can do and I'll focus on that, both for coaching and my own training.

On an unrelated note, do monkeys hate us? I think they do. If humanity weren't so fragmented and self-absorbed, we'd take care of them now before they obtain legal status and file crippling law suits.

Let's stop ape perfidy in its hand-like footprints.

Chi Running Class

Last Sunday I gave chi running a try. This system uses gravity and the strong muscles of the psoas to propel you forward rather than relying solely on quads and calves. Next day, I went out for a run but only made it a mile and a half before my knee grew sore. I backed off and walked, but it appears more cross-training lies in my future.

Joe Lahey Graces Freakazoid Season 2 Taping

Joe Lahey joined us last Thursday for the Freakazoid Season 2 taping. Good to see our favorite announcer again. Paul Rugg, Rich Arons, Tom Ruegger and myself recalled various moments from "the day."

Alas, no Barone's pizza, but we muddled through. I'm not sure what the release date is, but I'll say so when I do.

Value Added

Tomorrow we tape a few things for the Freakazoid Season 2 DVD. Nothing fancy, but it should be fun. This will probably be the last official act involving the Guy with Lightning in his Hair. A different TV animation world exists, built upon different rules.

But thanks to the Internet, one need never say "farewell," just "see you later forever and anon. "

Fall and TNT

Chilly this morning, with a bit of a cool wind. Felt like autumn for the first time. Today at practice, some ran 14 miles, others 12 and 10. Just after 6:00 this morning, I dropped into my health club, swam with the kickboard and aqua ran. Felt some pain in the tendons behind my left knee, so I stopped early. At practice, I mostly stood around the aid station, snacking.

Former teammate Dave ran past. He survived prostate cancer surgery this summer and is back running strong.

Another friend, Don, narrowly survived the same cancer in January 2007. He emerged from treatment strong with a commitment to lead a healthier life and concentrate on the important things namely his family.

Last week, Don was diagnosed with lymphoma. Growing in inoperable places, the cancer will require aggressive chemo. Even with that, Don's been given two years.

Stock markets rise and fall, and the life I have seems more precious all the time.

Freak Season 2 DVD

We're set to tape next Thursday. No DVD commentary this time, but various other fun things are planned. Alas, no Jonathan Harris. He would've been great.

Head Down

No posting lately because I'm blasting away on a long-delayed, original sitcom for my agent, a graphic novel outline — completed — and the book project from last year. End of December is my deadline.

My knee feels much better. I'm signed up for a chi running workshop in two weeks.

As the markets tumble and housing prices drop, I find myself relieved we sold our home when we did. As for the markets, I cashed out most of my inflated mutual funds over the last three years to make ends meet. They didn't. But being broke has its merits — you certainly don't worry about investments.

TNT '08 5k plus Chi Running

Winter Team traveled to Uplands this morning for the Megan's Run 5K. With my knee diagnosis still in medical limbo, I cheered on the troops. Mile one led impressively up in the direction of Mount Baldy. And while it didn't go that far, it certainly seemed to. A good downhill after that with the finish line on a gradual incline; not an especially speedy course. Congrats to teammates Chris, Dierk, Coach Pete, John A., musical John, Stacy and Ginnie who all won age group medals.

Lately, I've been reading up on chi running. Combining t'ai chi relaxation techniques and alignment with running, the style claims less injuries and less effort than conventional locomotion that relies on muscle strength. Given my foot strike issues — Mr. Heavy Heel — I'm willing to grant them a shot once I'm cleared to run again.

Much writing lately. Fun writing, good writing; writing that I enjoy. These three projects I'm working on have been in limbo since the move. Nothing like an injury to boost output. More soon.

Another Opinion

Today I learned several things.

One: my HMO doctor is extremely busy and unfocused. He said my x-rays hadn't arrived today. As it turned out, they were in the office and he'd initialed the report.

Two: The x-rays revealed no stress fracture. Busy Doc thinks its tendonitis. Learned Doc Smith thinks it may be a stress fracture.

Three: You can't have too many doctors. So it's back to my old chiro for his take while I decide where I'm gonna find a new primary care physician.

Four: I put on three pounds last week. If I'm not running 30-mile weeks, I can't eat 30-mile week meals.

Five: There is no five.

TNT '08 Practice 6 and 7

Last Saturday I was in the pool, then I attended a TNT information meeting at a local library. No one showed up for information.

This Saturday I was in the pool, aqua running once again. I shared a lane with two sisters from the fall team. In the adjacent lane, a passive-aggressive old man did odd things. Apparently, he felt the sisters had chased him out of his favorite lane. (The sisters said he gave them the lane, then wanted it back.) In any case, Pops treded water, staring at us and loudly singing songs from the 1940s. ("Mairzy Dotes and Dozy Dotes," etc.) In addition, he would cough deeply and make complicated snorting sounds as if preparing to hack up a sofa. Eventually, I got out, the sisters moved to another lane, and Pops bobbed around, being an aquatic hemorrhoid.

Afterwards, I visited the Winter Team aid station on a dam north of the Rose Bowl. Beautiful day for running. Or, in my case, watching people run. Later, we barbecued and listened to inspiring talks from leukemia sufferers and/or relatives of same, thanking Team in Training for the money they raised and the good it does.

All of which more than made up for Mairzy Dotes.

My Work Life Stagnates

What stinks after three days? (Guests and fish.)  Plus my animation career. Waiting at the X-ray factory today for knee imaging, I flipped through my day runner. One job interview back in April. That's it for 2008.

Granted the industry has been in flux (as have I), but I can't recall a year where there's been so few opportunities. Alas, much of the problem resides within.

I'm terrible at networking. Meet-and-greet events leave me cold. Staying in touch with old co-workers (who have worked steadily over the years) has been sporadic. Market awareness eats. I have no idea what's hot in TV animation right now. Stay current? I'd rather watch The History Channel. And if there's a new animated film out, I'll wait for Netflix.

When I do get an opportunity to pitch a show, I tend to hold back. This is bad habit I've developed to deal with rejection. (If I don't try 100 percent, my work is never 100 percent rejected — and by extension, me.) Marathon running has done a good job of eroding this flaw, since time goals require total commitment.

Work ethic is strong, but lacks focus. Weeks and months pass whenever I develop a show. Then I pitch it around and eat several heaping bowls of "no thanks." Concept crash; big let-down. I often recharge by working on book outlines or screenplay treatments. (New, unsullied ideas always have the greater appeal.) I allow them to fill up time instead of getting back to animation. If I want another staff gig, I have to make that important.

Because the Warner's job arrived unexpectedly back in 1991, I expect something similar to pop up again. It could, though I wouldn't hang from a hook waiting. Alas, active participation in my career is mandatory.

It's so much easier to blame other people. I think I'll keep doing that for another few days.

Two Systems

Didn't make it to the pool on Sunday; did make it to the doctor's on Monday. There's a huge difference between the health care I got working union jobs and the HMO I'm stuck with today. Back when I broke my foot I got an appointment the same day, examination and X-rays, referral to the bone doc and a cast on my foot all in a couple of hours.

HM-SLOW made me wait a week for an exam in which I learned everything Doc Smith told me seven days ago. Now I'm waiting for an X-ray to be scheduled at a separate location, after which I'll see the HMO doc again next Monday.

The records clerk asked me for an address to my previous health care facility. I said I didn't have it, however she could Google the name and up it would pop. Back shot this bitter remark about how now she'd have to find the address on her own time. It didn't make sense, but it did convey resentment at having to Google something. Nevertheless, I bid the clerk a sunny good-day and left her the tedious, all-consuming task of typing a name into a search engine; clearly work outside the bounds of record keeping, a job where poet-philosophers gather to practice free verse and pen heroic epics on the scale of Gilgamesh.

Stay healthy.

Aqua Running

Aqua running this morning before practice. Even in the water I had to ease up on the knee. (This is gonna take awhile to heal.) Tomorrow should've been my first 20-mile run. Technically, I'm supposed to aqua run for as long as I'd be running were my leg not screwed up. That said, I'll be plowing through the chlorine on Sunday for 3 hours, 19 minutes and 20 seconds.

Alone with my thoughts while the skin shrivels up.

Random Thoughts: 9/11

K called from Florida, "Planes crashed into the World Trade Center and one of the towers just fell." Unemployed and half asleep at 7:30 AM, I shuffled downstairs to the TV, past MDW as she prepared for work. At first, all I saw was a dirty cloud obscuring southern Manhattan. Then a stunned announcer said the second tower had just collapsed. MDW joined me, work forgotten as we learned of the attack.

Other friends phoned throughout the day. Paul Rugg speculated about the pilots of the doomed aircraft, certain they weren't Americans forced to crash. TJ, a Vietnam vet, was incensed at the footage of jubilant Palestinians with their candy and AK-47s. He wished he could surprise them with a nice buttering of napalm. In a grim mood, I agreed.

Watching TV and power-chewing Nicorette, I mostly felt numb — except when the subject was jumpers. Then I felt horror. Go to work, sip coffee, joke with your pals, then decide whether you'll suffocate, burn alive, or leap a quarter mile to certain death. Questions of etiquette arise: jump solo or hold hands with a co-worker? Perhaps several of you link arms and form a chain, finding courage in numbers. Or do you clutch a table cloth and step into the air, desperately hoping it slows your fall?



The journey takes ten seconds.


Air velocity rips away your shoes.


You explode on impact.


I will always be haunted by the jumpers of 9/11.


Oceans of paper were blasted from the towers, filling the New York sky like the Devil's ticker tape. Invoices and wedding invitations floated down to gray sidewalks.

My friend Cathy, who worked in D.C., reported chaos as the government sent everyone home at once following the Pentagon attack. One jammed intersection turned scary as a man leaped out of an SUV brandishing a pistol and attempting to direct traffic.

Being murdered is not a heroic act, though it can be. Flight 93 passengers fought back and died, saving many more in their sacrifice. North Tower Port Authority employees rescued over 70 people before perishing.


There were many heroes that day.

MDW tried to give blood, but the hospital was overwhelmed with donations and refused.

Vulnerability, grief, dismay, anger.

Such a beautiful morning with a sky so blue.

(Photos from: Little Green Footballs.)

Challenge Accepted

Talked to Coach Pete today who handles aqua running for our Team. He'll keep me healthy in the pool until I can run again. No Boston qualifying for now, but I can still complete Sacramento. It'll be interesting to see what sort of time I'll muster. I've been cleared for aqua running, ellipticals, and, perhaps, the recumbent cycle. In addition, I'll keep up core work and watch my diet.

But most of all, I need to set an example for injured teammates. If I can cross-train, stay upbeat, and keep the goal in sight, so can they.

Instead of a quasi-amusing tag line such as "but first, a nap," or "I'll start after dinner," or something equally wit-deprived, I'll share what just happened in the street outside my condo.

A woman rammed her car into a bicycle-riding teenager. She was heading into our garage, and turned as this kid sailed across the driveway. Screech! Honk! Boom! Other than a cut, the teen appeared undamaged. Freaked out, the woman offered to clean him up, take care of him, do anything, but the teen refused. Eventually, she gave him her phone number and made him promise to call when he got home. As the women left, the teen found himself the center-of-attention for a couple of bystanders. He retold the story with disdain ("Ahhhh, it was nothing.") than split.

And that was that. Events unfolded, then blended into other events, en route to becoming the past.

Like now.

Numbers

(Please read if you desire to be sleepy.)

Figure about six weeks before I run again. And those runs will be light and easy and on level ground — which I must locate.

From Jan. 1 to Sept. 7, 2008 I ran 888.4 miles. That tops my previous high mileage year, 1986, when I ran 768 miles in a comparable period.

Eugene saw me lower my marathon pace from 9:59 to 9:10. A successful CIM would've seen me drop pace an additional 35 seconds to 8:35. That's a hefty chunk o' time to lop off a marathon in one year.

After I achieve a goal, the next one always seems so doable. Determined to better my 2005 marathon, I got injured and struggled 13 months to beat my old time.

Injured again in 2007, it took me 16 months to set a new pr in Eugene. (Though I did run a marathon in between.)

In May, I'd already set my next goal. But now, as before, I've built upon my running injury resume.

There's an injury clinic for coaches next week at Doc Smith's place.

I've been asked to model.

No Running for Now

Either a bone bruise or a stress fracture on the left knee, according to the learned Dr. Smith. Now begins a tussle with my HMO to obtain an MRI. Visit a doctor, have him recommend the treatment, pray a health accountant Okays everything, get an appointment, then get an MRI so I may learn whether it's a bone bruise or a stress fracture.

Meanwhile, no running; light walking.

A contributing factor may have been my running gait: landing on the heel, feet too far forward.

From past experience, the greatest challenge now facing me will be to avoid putting on 20 pounds.

Knee Pain Spoils 18.8 Mile Run

Well, I didn't get up early. But I did water up Friday and Saturday. I needed every drop as the heat was something special. Around mile two of 18.8 I felt a sharp pain in my left knee. Nothing much has ever happened with that joint so I was mildly concerned. But since it quickly faded, I kept running.

Finished the first nine miles three minutes behind pace. But the heat really zapped me. I thought of quitting, but instead walked the .8 to my car, loaded up on water and Cytomax energy drink. Resolving to simply finish, I turned off my chrono, dialed down my run/walks from 7:1 to 3:1 and set out at an easy pace.

Running in the heat was uncomfortable and I walked long stretches. But I began the last four miles in fairly good spirits. Suddenly the left knee pain returned. Eager to finish, I'd walk, limping the first few steps, wait for the pain to pass, then run again. But concern over making matters worse finally led me to walk the last mile and a half.

So off to the running doc, Dr. Smith, tomorrow. There's a part of me that hopes my injury is bad enough to squash the CIM run. Mentally, I've been drifting toward the same mindset I displayed before Chicago. I think I've got only so many hot running days in me. Once I use them up, I'm barren for the remainder of summer and fall.

More on the knee soon.

TNT Practice Five

Eight miles today. I woke up late and arrived at practice just in time to miss our campaign manager chewing out the staff for being late. As the Team run north into the hills, I was amazed how crowded the trails have become with Pasadena Marathon trainees. Lots of ice bags at the finish line. Last season, the eight-mile run saw the same thing: people hurt from running faster than their pace — except for Coach Alfredo, who twisted his ankle on a rock. Overall, 'twas another hot day and I'm happy to be finished.

Eighteen miles tomorrow. I'm gonna arise early, for once, and hit the trails before 7:30 AM. I need to upgrade my mental game, as I find myself fighting "the quits." A fair number of folk know my goal. Several have expressed interest in actually traveling to Sacramento to cheer me on. Shooting for a Boston qualifier, I'm feeling anxiety I didn't feel for Eugene.

But it can be done. It will be done. I'll do it.

Tomorrow.

Today I'll eat Doritos and watch football.

The Many Shows That Never Were

One thing about moving: you do inventory your possessions. Still emptying boxes from May, I've found a collection of TV show ideas that never flew. From Lobo to the star-crossed Daffy Duck Show to one of my favorites, Team I.E., these animated offerings foundered at different stages. Most were my solo original ideas, pitched and passed on; others were developed with artists such as Scott Jeralds; several were commissioned by various studios before being euthanized.

In any case, I'll post on a few over the coming months. Some probably shouldn't have been made, while others flashed glimmers of potential.

New animation ideas remain in the 'fridge as I rush to finish a graphic novel outline, an original sit-com, and five chapters from a young adult novel.

Run Down

While pleased with my long runs, tempo workouts have been kicking my rear with big steel boots. I need to be running around 8:00 min. miles and haven't been close in weeks. Late afternoon heat is a factor, but mostly its been lack of focus. I need to arise early, run what I can sustain for four miles, stay at that distance until I reach 8:00, then add mileage. The race-day clock is ticking, but it can be done.

Kiley Runs Up Mt. Baldy

Congrats to TNT Fall Coach Kiley for tackling the Mt. Baldy Run To the Top. Starting in the Angeles National Forest at 6,000 feet, this eight-mile race gains 4K worth of altitude, finishing atop 10,023-foot Mount Baldy. Third highest mountain in Southern California, MDW and I have hiked up there and found the trail tough enough without race pressure. (We could've used some pressure as we missed the last ski lift down to the parking lot and had to hike the additional miles. Dusk fell and we hustled along in the fading light, not wanting to wander downslope in the dark. We just made it.)

In any event, props to Kiley. If I wore a large enough hat, I'd tip it in his direction, then lend it to the mountain for modesty's sake.

Six Miles for TNT, 16.8 for my Boston Qualifier

Team in Training practice four: first six miler for the team yesterday. Small turnout due to the holiday weekend. There is a very steep hill past the two-mile mark that our Team negotiated for the first of many pleasant times. Cloud cover held for most of the run, but it was muggy and warm. For awhile, I was awash in TNT alumni as Blanche, Anna, Nick, Ernesto, Katie, FJ and Raul all ran past at various speeds. Most are training for November's Pasadena Marathon.

This morning I ran 16.8 miles. As before, I woke up late (7:00 AM), and didn't get started until after 8:00. Luckily, I watered up all day Saturday. Temperature rose to 86 degrees plus humidity. I did well on the Pasadena Pacer eight-mile route — finishing two minutes ahead of pace. I then transitioned to the Team in Training eight-mile route which felt tougher, even though the Pacer grades are longer and steeper as they rise steadily out of the Arroyo and into the Flintridge Hills. It may have to do with my legs tiring as I enter a second uphill/downhill cycle, coupled with the rising mercury.

In any case, I finished in 2:41, hitting my 9:35 pace right on the nose.

My August total was 130.5 miles. I'll be needing new shoes for the race.

And maybe somewhere to run that's cool and flat for a change.

Review of Freakazoid DVD

Second-season DVD interviews are back on track, with shooting slated for sometime in October. Meanwhile, here's a review of the first DVD from "The Stuff We Like."

Coaches Mugging It Up

Coach Dave and I instruct new runners in proper finish line form. No matter how tired you are, play it up big for the cameras.