San Diego Marathon Snippets

Runners registered for the 2006 San Diego Marathon: 21,159

Number of runners finishing: 17,339



Average time: 5:06:55

Jimmy Freeman won the Team in Training Half-Marathon in 1:25:51. That's a pace of 6 minutes and 33 seconds per mile.

Assistant Coach Mark McQuaid once again performed heroically in taking tons of photos.

And finally Summer 2006 TNT San Gabriel Valley raised over $230,000 in the fight against leukemia and lymphoma.

How 'bout THAT?!

To The Victors

My last practice with TNT San Gabriel Valley Summer Team. Most of the San Diego marathoners showed up with their finisher medals. These were big suckers, heavy, trash can lids.

Both Kates will be back coaching the Winter Team.

And I'll be back along with them for one more go.

Bravo, Team!

From what I gathered, San Gabriel Valley Team in Training acquitted itself well in San Diego. Goals were met, missed and surpassed but all ran and finished their marathons. Meanwhile, I folded roofing tarps and watched the California State High School track finals on TV. But another race awaits me at another time.

A special half-marathon exclusively for Team in Training was included in yesterday's event. With over 500 participants, the race was won by Jimmy Freeman, my coach from last year's winter team. (And current coach of the fall team.) Jimmy covered the 13.1 miles in one hour and 25 minutes, bounding along like a great deer.

Speaking of running, my doctor signed off on "moderate walking." (I like the vagueness as it allows me to experiment.") However no running for at least one more month. At this point, I'd just as soon heal completely. I "moderately walked" for a half-hour today. The inside of my right heel hurt afterwards, telling me I'm extremely gun shy about putting pressure on the foot.

I don't see myself overtraining for a long time.

Finished!

Not as in washed up, but as in completing my horror book outline for "Apple Dan." I'm very excited, much like the time I notched my first 20 mile run. (And only 20 mile run to this point.) Writing the book will be like the marathon.

Three tourists visit a quaint California town, only to discover a terrible secret. Unless they work together to confront the menace, they'll die a ghastly death.

Small scale. More plot than not. But a blast to create.

I'm getting feedback this weekend from selected readers. I'll rewrite next week and turn it in to my agent on Thursday.

Ha!

And good luck again to the San Diego marathoners as they depart on the morrow.

Oddly enough, my book is set in the mountains east of San Diego, in a little town similar to Julian.

Oooooo. Scary, kids!

TNT San Diego Bound

"Let's Go to San Diego 'cause that's where all the kids go." A lyric from a Thrills' song and the destination of TNT San Gabriel Valley this Saturday. There's a send-off dinner tonight in Pasadena. I'm excited for them all, especially my friends from last year's Winter Team. A big "Go Team!" Run PR marathons!

I think I've discovered the jewel of local health clubs. This facility opened last month, is seven minutes from my house, uncrowded in the morning, clean and neat with all brand-new machines.

Plus parking is free and plentiful.

I'm on a temporary pass for the next few weeks trying things out.

In fact I tried the elliptical this very AM. Low setting, low angle, but I still felt the cardio strain.

Well, I've got time.

And the parking is free and plentiful.

Writing, Running, Relationship Notes

Big deadline pressures this week. Expanding a short story I wrote last year to a short novel; maybe 12 chapters; just doing the outline now. Also traveling back and forth to Hollywood for meetings on two different projects at the Jim Hensen Studios. (The Muppet people.)

I have an odd feeling that after so many near-misses this year, one of these projects will pay off big.

A hearty "well-done" to my TNT Teammates. This Saturday marks their final Team training run. Next week they'll tackle the San Diego Marathon.

Still waiting for my leg to stop shedding. If nothing else, this latest injury is teaching me super-sized doses of patience.

And finally, my wife and I celebrated our 9th wedding anniversary yesterday. My advice to newly weds: learn how to fight. A critical, often overlooked, skill. Proper fighting technique insures that troublesome issues are addressed and most often resolved.

Back soon.

Leg Cast Off!

But the foot continues to mend. The doctor gave me an orthopedic shoe along with a thick elastic bandage. The foot remains tender and I can't stand up very long.

From the shin down to the toes, my right leg is a mass of dead skin. As soon as this clears up, I'm off to aqua run.

But most important of all, I can drive again!

Entertaining Thoughts

Last night my wife and I watched the A&E version of Flight 93. Pretty good for TV. This version took the time to intro key passengers such as Todd Beamer, Mark Bingham and Thomas E. Burnett Jr. In contrast, the film reduces passengers and crew to strangers. I found myself more tightly drawn to those characters as they plan and counterattack having only their actions to judge them on. And while I thought the film did a better job of tension, I salute both efforts. If anyone should be honored, it is the passengers and crew of Flight 93.

On a lighter note, this weekend I watched an old Bob Hope comedy, "The Princess and the Pirate." Made in 1944, this movie swung for the fence every moment. Fast-paced with lots of action, in-jokes and Hope wise-cracking to the audience throughout. You could watch it with kids and still have a good time. I was envious. It looked like a lot of fun to make.

My agent is keen to pitch a short horror story of mine as a graphic novel. I would be delighted to write such a thing. I'm waiting for a book synopsis template so I know just how much to write. (Enough to entice an advance, but no more.)

Speaking of which, back to work.

TNT Half-Marathon

They serve who also sit on their ass and hand out Gatorade. San Gabriel Valley Team in Training hosted an invitational half-marathon. Teams from LA locales such as the Westside, Riverside County, San Fernando Valley arrived to run 13.1 miles on our trails around and above the Rose Bowl. A perfect day to stop back and visit the team.

With a bum leg, I manned a water station at the top of a steep, rocky hill just past Jet Propulsion Laboratories. Most runners huffed and puffed their way to the top where I served them Gatorade, water, orange slices, pretzels, salt packets, and banana slices. A number of folk noticed my cast and asked nervously whether I'd broken a bone on the rocky hill they'd just ascended. They were relieved to learn I'd been running on a flat course during a 5K.

Several runners shared stories about bad breaks and sprains suffered on level terrain. Breaking a bone like that should be listed under running natural disasters: like California earthquakes, they go with the terrain.

In any case, it was good to see my Teammates again. I got a little sun and a bit of exercise. Someone asked if I'd travel to San Diego and cheer on the Team. I said I needed to put this marathon behind me and focus ahead on the next one. (Though I'll be following everyone's time online.)

Hopefully, one more week in the cast.

Getting Around with a Leg Cast

Brother, can you spare a ride? Still can't drive. There are only a few friends who live close enough to pick me up and don't work during the day. I must ask for rides with care so as not to burn anyone out. The Dutchman, an old roommate, is a TV camera operator with a late afternoon call time. He's gotten me to the doctor twice and the bank once.

I'd really like a haircut. But I don't want to burn a car trip for one.

This feels similar to house arrest.

Broken Bone Update

Those are the breaks. A minimum two more weeks in a cast. The doctor says it could be more. Old bone must be replaced by new bone and that takes time. However the break continues repairing nicely, no fragmentation.

I'm eating a lot. Or else just as much as before minus cardio activity. In any case, I'm putting on weight.

Pretty soon I'll be using the freeway truck scales.

Two more weeks.

TNT vs T'ai Chi

For five years I studied Yang family t'ai chi at a little studio in Burbank. Recently I was thinking about the differences between my martial arts classmates and the Team in Training runners.

First off, t'ai chi movements stimulate internal energy. Often called "meditation in motion," t'ai chi form practice leaves you awash in soothing endorphins. No belts or sashes are awarded for advancement. You progress like the tao: a motionless movement.

With Team in Training you're facing nothing but deadlines. For example, weekly mileage increases in order to complete a marathon. (Most people run 3 to 5 times a week, plus cross-training.) In addition, you're on the hook to raise several thousand dollars. For Hawaii last year, the minimum was $4,200.

Yet in general Team in Training runners exhibit more serenity, laughter, and optimism than my martial arts chums. For instance, among t'ai chi peers, there were several New Age passive-aggressives, a political rage-a-holic, and a wisecracking, retired radio comic who dressed like Chester Cheeto. There were also decent, down-to-earth folk, but the malcontents and exotics dominated. Why do runners seem more at peace than Chinese martial artists? Better endorphins? Can't say.

United 93 Film

A very tense film. Even though I knew the ending, I hoped the passengers would pull it off somehow. The director used cell phone conversations and cockpit tapes to recreate much of the action. Hand-held cameras and an unknown cast gave the film a riviting documentary feel.

I didn't leave humming the music, but I did gain an added appreciation for ordinary people who rose to perform extraordinary deeds aboard United Flight 93 on Sept. 11, 2001.

A 20 Mile Run, But Not My 20 Mile Run

All the best to my Team in Training chums as the prepare to log 20 miles this Saturday. From there, they'll taper down in distance as the San Diego Marathon approaches on June 4.

Six months ago I ran 20 miles in preparation for the Honolulu Marathon. Six months from now I should be running 20 again as I gear up for the Phoenix Rock 'N Roll Marathon.

And now, back to my deadlines.

TNT '06 Photos

A long Saturday run back in March with teammate PJ.







Thanks to assistant coach Mark for the digital memories.

Broken Bone News

X-rays show my 5th metatarsal knitting nicely. As a reward, I got a walking cast. If I hadn't spent three weeks on crutches, I'd say this was a lousy way to get around.

The bitter doctor found a more chipper side today. Looks like three months of no running. But once I lose the cast, I'm cleared for aqua jogging or ellipticals — non-impact things.

Still working on my young adult horror novel. I've set a target date to finish the outline by June 4. That's also San Diego Marathon day.

So I've still got a goal, just not the one I'd planned.

Feels great to limp!

Web Brawlers

Having a broken foot means I spend more time on the Internet. Recently, I've discovered fight sites. These websites feature videos of people fighting. Some contests are staged but most show fistfights in parks, alleys and streets.

As you might guess, combatants are usually young males. There are one-punch knockouts, sucker punches, painful beatdowns, group battles and a few really good fights where both parties go at it hard with some know-how. An archive of blog CityRag featured a fight linkfest.

Lots of headlocks along with the perennial favorite of climbing atop your opponent and punching him in the face until he quits.
A surprising number of girl fights. Girls go for the hair, gripping it like C-clamps. They will sometimes pause in the middle of a punch-up to taunt or insult one another.

There was a muscular black guy named Kimbo who came across as a semi-pro, bareknuckle fighter. I saw him in a few videos. He traveled with a crew, changed shoes before a fight, and wore a mouthguard. Kimbo kept his arms up and his feet moving. He hit hard, klonking one opponent with an uppercut that laid the guy out in a parking lot. But Kimbo was nothing if not a good sport, wishing his foe well and checking to see he was Okay.

My fighting years are long past. Nowadays, when trouble threatens, I drop a twenty-dollar bill and run.

Or hobble briskly.

18 Miles and a BBQ

This weekend the team will hoof 18 miles on trails around the Rose Bow. The run is proceeded by a raffle and bookended by a finish line barbeque. I will miss said events as I'm up to my crutches in paying work — thankfully. However, the TNT energy continues into the afternoon with the opportunity to:

BUY NICE THINGS!
Ready to lose the Queen poster and stop drinking out of Flintstone jelly jars? TNT member Wendy opens her home to representatives from Private Quarter and Southern Living at Home. See their spring collection and upgrade your space with fine items ranging from glassware to accents. Drinks, lite snacks and a few bonus drawings (including a little something from The Simpsons) round out a fun evening starting at 6:30 PM on Saturday, April 29. Click here for Wendy's Glendale locale. Check out an "Early Bird" showing from 4:30 to 5:30 PM.

Meanwhile, I count the hours until my orthopedic appointment Monday. A walking cast may be in my future. Non-crutch locomotion would feel fine about now.

Hit Me

Hit number 2,000 today.

Thanks to all who frequent this blog.

That includes web crawlers and the "Anonymous" people trying to sell me something.

Everyone Shows Up At Nick's

Tonight is the night of NICK'S VERY OWN FILM FESTIVAL!
He films as fast as he runs and that's pretty quick. Having just wrote and directed an entry for the Howard Stern Film Festival, Nick's turning on the town to his cinematic efforts by screening Booey Parts: From Bobby to Booey. Wear your hippest black to Pasadena's Bodega Wine Bar starting at 9:00 PM. Pay ten dollars at the door and let 'em know you are there for the TNT fundraiser/screening. Find Bodega here.

Kramer vs Kramer

Back from Walnut Creek, a charming little suburb in San Francisco's East Bay. We took I-5 north through the Imperial Valley, passing miles of orange groves and vineyards. Huge steel power pylons stretched into the distance like Martian war machines.

My wife's cousin was successfully wed and I had the opportunity to encounter the strange hospitality of Embassy Suites.

We arrived at the hotel on Friday night. Because of my broken foot, I passed on the rehearsal dinner. My wife left to meet relatives at a local restaurant while I settled in to order room service.

But I couldn't find the Black Binder.

These are the room directories listing hotel services along with phone numbers and room service menus. No problem. I called the front desk and asked to have one sent up. A harried clerk said, "You mean the Black Binder? I'll get to it."

Fine. I'll watch Seinfield reruns.

My phone rings ten minutes later. A different clerk asks whether I've gotten my Black Binder yet. I reply 'no' and he cheerfully assures me one is enroute.

On Seinfeld, Elaine has played a practical joke on Jerry. She's left a hot, steamy message on his answering machine, but no name or phone number. Unaware it's Elaine, the message's unfulfilled promises drive Jerry crazy.

Knock on the door. A short, balding man asks if I need assistence.
"You bet. I need a Black Binder."
"Oh, the room directory."
"Yes, the book with the room service menus. If you have one, that would be great."
He leaves to get one.

I hobble back to the couch. Jerry plays the answering machine tape for George. George is instantly aroused, hearing sexual innuendo in every woman's most casual utterance.

Knock on the door. A man from Room Service wants to be of service.
"Do you happen to have a room directory with you?"
"Oh, the Black Binder. Sure."
He leaves to get me one.

Back at Jerry's place, George is on the phone to China trying to contact a clinic that promises to give him a "head of hair like Stalin." Jerry is explaining the answering machine tape to Elaine when Kramer bursts in with a video camera. Kramer starts filming everyone as if he were doing a documentary on porn stars.

Knock-knock.
I hobble to the door. The short balding man has returned. He hands me a thick phone book — Yellow Pages for the East Bay. I thank him, saying that now my room has two phone books.
"This isn't what you wanted?"
"No. I wanted a Black Binder, a room directory."
He sighs. "That's what I thought you wanted. But they told me to bring you this."
He goes to get me a room directory.

Elaine confess to George that she is the answering machine voice, but swears him to secrecy. George tells Jerry, who vows silence. Elaine admits to Jerry that she is the voice. Jerry says he already knows. George told him.

Knock.
Up again on my crutches. There is a new employee at my door. We've never met. He hands me a plastic room service menu. By now, I fear to ask for a Black Binder or a room directory. They will bring me up deck chairs or artwork from the lobby.

My wife always overpacks in the food department. I find apples, a bagel, almonds and a black cherry soda. I dine and watch the first Austin Powers.

The next morning my wife calls the front desk and asks for a room directory. Within five minutes, someone has delivered her a Black Binder.
She smiles, "A woman's touch."

Perhaps. I felt the whole incident was life imitating art.

Bay Area Trip

Heading up to the SF Bay area today. My wife's cousin is getting wed. He and his bride are a nice athletic couple. Hopefully, their shared love of soccer and cycling will carry them through any rocky times ahead.

Last evening's Night of Fine Drinking was a festive success. Coach Katie's my neighbor and graciously drove me. Items were raffled, drinks consumed; loud music blared making most conversation pointless. It was like trying to chat on the deck of an aircraft carrier.

Afterwards, Katie went to get the minivan while I waited outside the bar on my crutches. This is in the middle of fashionable Old Town Pasadena. Busy foot traffic. After a few moments, I realized no one was making even cursory eye contact with me.

I looked around. At the end of the street, a guy on crutches was hitting people up for money. They must've thought I was part of a double-header.

All the best to my teammates, who will be running a faux 10K at the Rose Bowl this Saturday.

I'll be performing a 1/8K reception-line hobble.

On Your Fete

In LA, spring is awash in a whirl of fashionable Team in Training fund-raisers guaranteed to please any palate. (Note the overuse of alliteration, a hangover from my magazine editor days.) As fund-raising deadlines draw near, teammates turn up the creativity and unleash a spate of special events:

1. Lisa and Dave present: A NIGHT OF FINE DRINKING!
What better way to battle leukemia and lymphoma than with flaming cocktails? Hoist hot or cold beverages with the Team this Thursday, April 20 at the 35er bar in Pasadena. Ten dollars gets you in the door and puts a raffle ticket in your palm. Buy more raffle tickets for a chance to win items such as season Dodger tickets, jewelry, and $200. The party starts at 7:00 PM. Click here for the location.

2. Nick presents: NICK'S VERY OWN FILM FESTIVAL!
He films as fast as he runs and that's pretty quick. Having just wrote and directed an entry for the Howard Stern Film Festival, Nick's turning on the town to his cinematic efforts by screening Booey Parts: From Bobby to Booey. Wear your hippest black to Pasadena's Bodega Wine Bar on Tuesday April 25, starting at 9:00 PM. Pay ten dollars at the door and let 'em know you are there for the TNT fundraiser/screening. Find Bodega here.

3. Wendy presents: BUY NICE THINGS!
Ready to lose the Queen poster and stop drinking out of Flintstone jelly jars? Wendy's home will host representatives from Private Quarter and Southern Living at Home. See their spring collection and upgrade your space with fine items ranging from glassware to accents. Drinks, lite snacks and a few bonus drawings (including a little something from The Simpsons) round out a fun evening starting at 6:30 PM on Saturday, April 29. Click here for Wendy's Glendale locale. Check out an "Early Bird" showing from 4:30 to 5:30 PM.

All you Angelenos head out and support these events.

There's an old saying that those who can't run, write promotional copy. In any case, broken foot or not, I'm glad to plug my teammates' effort in raising money to fight blood cancers.

Live long and perspire!

Boston Marathon Update

Our San Gabriel Valley coaches ran the 110th Boston Marathon today.

Jimmy: 3:17:34 (7:32 pace)

Kate: 3:30:54 (8:03 pace)

Katie: 3:26:50 (7:54 pace)
The United States made its best showing in years. And while 1st and 2nd place fell to Kenyans, U.S. Men grabbed 3,4 & 5, claiming five of the top ten finishes.

A new course record of 2:07:14 was set today.

In the Women's Division, no daughters of Uncle Sam finished in the top ten. A Kenyan won here as well. Eastern European and Japanese women perch atop female marathoning, but Kenyan women dominate Boston, sweeping three in a row and six of the last seven. Today's race was a nailbiter with the Kenyan surging for the win, holding off a late charge from a Latvian who finished 10 seconds behind.

I'm not sure who won the wheelchair division.

Or the couch-bed division.

But someone did.

Injured Runner Blues

My arms felt so tired this morning I wanted to stay in bed. This cast/crutches stuff is real, whether I like it or not. And today, I don't like it. I'm sore, sluggish, every movement a chore. My ankle bone hurts from rubbing against the inside of the cast.

This morning TNT was out doing 16 miles. Our coaches, the Kates, and my winter team coach, Jimmy, are all in Boston, running the big marathon on Monday.

Last night, our fundraising captain, Dave, emailed me that I'd won a TNT sweatshirt for suggesting blogs as a supplement to our individual TNT websites. Blogs are indeed a dandy way to update folks on your training progress — or, in my case, temporary lack thereof. In any event, winning said sweatshirt was a spot of color in an otherwise drab day.

I have a script due early next week. It's for a joint BBC /Australian TV production that will probably air on PBS. The client ordered episodes before the creative team figured out all the characters and situations. It's a bit like launching an unfinished boat and attempting to build the hull at sea.

You might make it.

Broken Bone Notes

A friend who suffered broken legs playing tennis and baseball said my "crutch form" needed work. I shouldn't be resting heavily on the top part. I should lean — as in running — and use gravity to propel me forward.

If you are not wide awake when you go to the bathroom at night, you will be by the time you return to bed.

The doctor who set my cast was peevish and bitter. He pretty much said he'd seen one broken foot bone too many. I wanted to tell him to quit that day and go chase his dream: design fighter aircraft or cathedrals; paint bridges; be a mime, whatever.

But I'm glad I didn't speak.

He was enjoying his misery too much.

Broke At Santa Anita

After three days, my underarms are tender. I've put pillows over the top of the crutches for cushioning. I wear a satchel around my neck so I can cart books, etc. from one room to the next. Stairs are a pain, but I'm learning.

My 5th metatarsal, the long bone on the outside of the foot, sustained a fracture on Saturday. A cast for at least three weeks, then, perhaps, a walking cast. No running for two months. So long San Diego Marathon.

This sucks large. But there's nothing to be done but get better and try again.

To those readers who planned to donate, please do so. I understand I can slide your donations forward to another TNT event. (I'm thinking Long Beach in the fall or Arizona in January 2007.) The money still goes to fight blood cancers, but it will be credited to an event I'll actually be running in. (God willing.)

In any case, having a broken foot has improved my writing. I'm no longer in a position to wander away from the computer when I should be cranking out an assignment.

I'll keep posting on the fortunes of the San Gabriel Summer 2006 TNTers.

And I'll head down to San Diego in June to cheer them on.

I should be walking just fine by then.

Injured In A New Exciting Way

Approaching Mile One at yesterday's Santa Anita 5K. I'm running as planned, eight-minute pace. The course turns off Baldwin Avenue into the LA Arboretum. As I follow the other runners, my right foot hits a hole and twists inward. Ouch!

I go from running to run-limp-to limping. I limp through the Arboretum into the hay district of Santa Anita race track. Bales and bales of hay lay stacked up in large open "barns." I follow the course as it flows through a tunnel that emerges up in the infield. From there I turn onto the race track: loose sand chewed up by previous runners. I run-limp across the finish line.

Doctor's tomorrow for x-rays.

After fighting back from a knee/tendon injury in February at Pacific Shoreline I figured I'd used up my damage quota for this marathon. But there are no guarantees in running or life.

I guess I'm lucky not to be a horse.

Team in Training would have to shoot me.

Running Shoe Annoyances

As we enter intense training, I realize I need another pair of runnning shoes. Two pair, actually. One to break-in for the marathon and one to rotate with my current shoes. I'm partial to Brooks. They're a comfortable fit. Naturally, Brooks has stopped making my brand.

This really frosts me. I'm not interested in shoe shopping all over again.

Now I must.

What swine these shoe people are!

A Wet Fourteen Miles

TNT mileage increases. Yesterday we covered 14 muddy miles in and around the Rose Bowl. As I drove to practice, I saw other groups coping with the morning's downpour. The Korean-American Running Club — most noted for their lime, day-glo jerseys that can be seen from outer space — today wore fifty-five gallon trash bags. A most disposable rain coat. They looked like giant, jogging plums.

Trails were a mess, churned up by other runners and hikers. One of our mile markers is a support post under the 210 Freeway. Someone graffittied, "TNT. Go Team! 2006." A childish frame-up. Obviously, no real TNTer spray-painted that. If so, there would've been a URL or address where you could send money.

The deluge stopped, leaving a cool pleasant day — perfect distance-running weather. The various pace groups ran, walked, slipped and splashed our way up past JPL (Jet Propulsion Laboratories: they send things into space to photograph Mars and the Korean-American Running Club), into the Angeles National Forest, up to the Elmer Fudd Bridge (it's Elmer Smith but "Fudd" resonates), then back down the trail to the Finish Line in Parking Lot K of the Rose Bowl.

Next week is another 3.1 mile race ala Emerald Nuts. Saturday we'll be at the Santa Anita Derby Days 5K. In keeping with the race track theme, several of our faster runners will wear weights and at least two must carry small men on their backs.

More as details unfold.

Swami Dearest at Venice Beach

When relatives visit from out-of-state I always take them to Venice Beach. The sights and sounds fulfill all Southern California stereotypes: The guitar-playing swami on rollerskates; gang members with more tattoos than an old sailors' home; fortune tellers, sleeping bums, artists and street performers, motorcycle hoods; hot-looking chicks on roller blades, conspiracy theorists ("Bush Killed My Turtles!"), pumped-up weight lifters, blaring rap music, Tibetan gongs and sea gulls wheeling overhead..

At least that's the way it used to be.

I hadn't been to Venice in many years. That gives you some idea how often we're visited by out-of-state relatives. Nevertheless, my niece came out and we took her down to the beach. Everything seemed pretty much the same, but a lot more orderly. Even the sleeping bums appeared to have been arranged by a landscaper. But I really wanted to see the guitar-playing swami. I'd promised my niece. My wife grew up in nearby Santa Monica and said the swami mostly works there nowadays, rollerblading along the fashionable 3rd Street Promenade.

Perhaps I should've checked with his agent first.

He has one.

Inkling Charles S. Williams

Somewhere I read that March 25 corresponds to the Shire calendar day when Gollum and the Ring of Power toppled into Mount Doom, thereby unmaking Sauron and freeing Middle Earth. Sauron's kingdom was later auctioned off, becoming the Mordor Pitch and Putt. (For a proper Trilogy send-up, I suggest the Harvard Lampoon's 1969 "Bored of the Rings.")

In any case, I've had Tolkien and his peers on my mind for the last two weeks, ever since a member of my writing group lent me a book on "The Inklings." The Inklings were a mid-20th Century literary group in Oxford. Very distinguished. Among others, the Inklings featured J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, and Charles S. Williams. Novelist Dorothy L. Sayers, though not a member, hung with the Inklings and is said to have dogged Charles S. Williams until he explained Dante and Beatrice to her. Zany cut-ups, these English writers.

Tolkien, of course, wrote "The Hobbit" and the "The Lord of the Rings." C.S. Lewis wrote "The Chronicles of Narnia." And Charles S. Williams wrote some strange spooky fiction. (He also wrote numerous plays, poems, and critiques, but they weren't all that strange and spooky.) Williams took genres such as detective fiction and wove in heavy metaphysical elements. For example, "War in Heaven" opens like a murder mystery but we learn the Holy Grail has been discovered in a small English church. A race is on as various parties seek the Grail for its supernatural powers. (A bit like "Raiders of the Lost Ark" only 51 years earlier.)

Williams' books are dense as a neutron star. But there is something eerie and compelling in his work, as if he were able to part the veil and render events beyond our temporal senses. The closest comparison I can make is to the film, "The Others." Charles S. Williams leaves you convinced there's more to life — and death — than you'd normally care to dwell on.

His novels never really sold. But they're still in print. Williams, who worked as an editor for Oxford Press and taught classes in literature, died in 1945 at age 57. If I get through more of his books, I'll let you know.

Notes on Nuts 5K

A teammate running the LA Marathon, Jerry, posted a time a shade over 5 hours. Jerry said he'd probably have finished in the 4-hour range but for three bathroom breaks. The 5K port-o-potty lines were long. The marathon facilities must have been epic. (And ghastly, as only a marathon port-o-potty can be.)

A few teammates hung around to cheer Jerry and TNT marathoner Phil. They waited at the 20 mile mark. Seeing a marathoner at 20 miles is like seeing your parents naked — not pretty. You can run the last mile and look cool for the finish line camera. But at mile 20, the bloom is definitely off the rose. Runners struggling, walking, pulling themselves along on injured legs. Someone remarked that only finishing makes all the pain worthwhile. Having hobbled the last seven miles in Huntington Beach, I agree.

2776 runners finished the Emerald Nuts 5K. Coach Kate ran second in her age division (18-24) running the 3.1 miles in 21 minutes. That's a pace of 6 minutes and 46 seconds per mile. I can't think that fast.

Teammate Gionne snapped a few photos. From right to left, Jay, Ernesto, Melinda, myself and Chad perfect our "hanging-out-aimlessly-before-the-race" look.