I Raced? Get Outa Here!

Oh yeah! Look out baby, I'm back on the racing scene!

First and foremost, I have no recollection about the last time I participated in a "race." I suppose I could look it up but actually, I don't care. Mostly, I went to this one (The Boulderthon 5K) for the fun of being AT/IN a race. And lo and behold, it WAS fun.

This all begins back in June and July when my weekly mileage crept up to the forties and even three weeks over 50. This increase in fitness originated in two places: 1) better eating habits was causing (or at least supporting) weight loss, and 2) my knee, oddly, responded better to uphills and downhills but did not like the flats. In the end, I had dropped in a nice 13 week build up in mileage. Then, I got greedy.

I was in the Bay Area the week of July 15 got in a 9 mile effort in the Marin Headlands and followed the next day with a run that ended on a 1.6 mile steep uphill (to my Brother-in-Law John's house). Flight home was stiff and sore.  Adding to that in the previous days were Bayou Gulch (all hills), The Palmer Trail Loop #16 in the Springs, and some others and BAM! Broken knee.

The cost was two weeks of barely running at all, plus another two weeks at 25-35 miles. But then, I got on the roll once again. Consistent mileage in the 40s with only the occasional sore day created optimism for the future (and optimism is always good). So, the "race."

The Boulderthon 5K was set in downtown Boulder starting and finishing on Pearl Street. The first mile plus (maybe 1.3) was a slight downhill. The rest of it minus the last .1 was a gradual UPhill. Everyone was sent off in waves and I tucked myself back into wave 11 with some walkers, stroller pushing people, and people like me who were just strolling without pushing anything other than their bodies. It was really the perfect place. Most everyone in our group went out too fast and that made for fun in the second half of the race picking them off one by one.

I had a three tiered goal setup. The C goal was to finish without any kind of knee incident. The B goals was to run under 42 minutes (roughly 13:30 ish). And the A goal was to break 40.

None of this is dazzling, even by my standards. My PR (long, long ago) is 15:09. My 45+ year old PR is 18:14. So, 40 minutes was not going to get me too excited. But it did.

40 minutes equals 12:52 pace ORRRRR a minute per mile faster than my pace for what I would consider a good training session. Most of my runs hover between 13:45 and 14:30. For now, I would take that. SO, I run/race. 

Most of the way, I felt pretty good. I had one moment where I thought my knee was complaining but it barely lasted only 10-15 seconds. The rest of the time, I felt like I was moving pretty well. The finish, the last .1 was downhill, more downhill than the start (meaning a bit steeper). I worried about that a tad as I hit 10 minute pace there and wondered what my knee would think (it thought, yeah baby!).

Final time on my watch 40:01!

WHAT?????? 40:01? No way. Well, MAYBE the official/chip time would be 39:59. So, I waited...

all freakin' day.....

40:02. NOOOOOOOO!

That's okay. Still fun. 

Look out baby!

From Nicely to Crap

It was a nice little run (pun intended). Sooner or later, it had to end. And end it did on July 17.

Five awesome weeks were strung together: 41 miles, 47, 55, 51, 50. Then, I went to California. Now, I don't want to blame California solely for this, but as a Coloradoan, I blame California for most things.

I arrived on Monday. The plan was to get in a good run that afternoon and a great one on Tuesday. I wasn't in the mood to run, I didn't really want to drive to any particular destination to seek out my fab-Monday run. And did I mention I wasn't really in the mood?

So, I ran from John's house. John is my Brother-in-law, and an all-around good guy except for one thing. He chose to live on the top of this hill in Benicia, CA. Not just any hill, by the way, a 1.6 mile hill that has three kick-ass steep sections. Nonetheless, off I went.

The downhill was annoying. The steepest parts actually hurt (definition of hurt being any amount of pain higher than I expected). Once at the bottom, I cross the road to enter Benicia State Park. I love this park. It winds around an inlet, has some hills on the backside, and is lined with eucalyptus trees near the entrance. Mmmmmmm, nice smells. Then, because there was no escape (although a ride was available if I'd make the call), it was time for the climb to John's..

If the story is truthfully told, it wasn't that bad. Were there times when I wanted to summon the chariot? Yes. Were there times when walking seemed like the best plan? Yes! AND were there times when I was absolutely, positively, sure that John had moved his house further up the hill? YES!!!!!

On one of the steeper sections, my wife Linda drove by and said, "Do you want a ride?"

"No, don't need one," I said.

"Are you sure? Will you make it?"

"Thanks, but I've GOT to do this." So, I did.

Having lived to tell about it, I was off to Mill Valley the next morning. I grabbed some water for my hydration pack and drove through to Muir Beach. Just a bit up the road was the gigantic, and free, parking lot. I greased up, locked up, and I was off up the Coastal Trail. This was my third time on the Coastal trail, yet this time there was more to be added to the fun. This time, when the Coastal Trail intersected with the Muir Woods trail, I would take that loop.

Frankly, the Muir Woods are beautifully divine. After about half the loop, I saw the "Trail Construction Ahead" sign and decided to turn it back around and make it an out and back. No problem, especially since "you can only go into the woods halfway, then you're coming out," anyway. All was good until I began the descent on the Coastal Trail.

First of all, parts were steep. Worse, however, was that mountain bikers had ridden on the trail after a thunderstorm and had created a BIG rut in the middle of the trail in many spots. These were a nightmare for an old guy with a vulnerable knee. Came close to falling several times as I dodged the ruts at a speed that bordered on out of control. Happily, I made it to the end.

I flew home that night (knee very stiff), ran a lame 5 miles the next morning (knee was very sore), and then took the next 10 days off as even walking was a challenge. The knee was swollen, very sore, and my nice little run had ended. As I expected, it made my sad, disappointed, and extremely cranky.

Today, is Tuesday. Sunday I mostly walked 4 miles. Yesterday, it was 4 miles of 50/50. Today, i ran (jogged) 95+% of a 5 miler. It seems to be coming back. That would be nice.

Unfortunately, this yo-yo knee thing doesn't really fix the problem and the problem is I have a pretty damaged knee. 

So, for now, I take the Scarlet O'Hara approach: "I'll worry about that tomorrow."

Run on.

It's Coming Along Nicely

Today I was asked this rare question, "How's your running coming?"

I call this a rare question because, for the most part, when you're as slow as I am no one cares about your running. It's boring. AND I have to confess that up until a few weeks ago, I didn't actually care about my running. I did it. I rarely missed a day. But it was without inspiration, without motivation.

What changed?

In all honesty, I don't know. I'm sure there is a multitude of factors including weight-loss, overall better health, clearing my mind to allow real, live me to come through, new shoes, a cool shirt..... who knows. And really, I don't care. I'm riding this baby for as long as I can.

It's been close to six months, like all of this year, that I have been highly motivated to get a more serious attitude about my running. Serious, mind you, does not mean fast. Serious means motivated, serious means committed. In his book, Marty Liquori's Guide For the Elite Runner, Marty wrote, "A commitment to serious Training (I substitute running) means that no matter what else you are in this world - doctor, lawyer, Indian Chief - first of all you are a runner." Marty, I'm in.

When something has been a HUGE part of your (my) identity for close to 58 years, it's very difficult to feel like you (I) should when that thing you do isn't being prioritized. I've been lost for a while now, and to be honest, maybe ten years. Sad, but probably true.

I'm thinking this time back will stick, even though it's really tough to know the future. I'm thinking that this, at 72 years old, might be the last shot to make this a "serious" thing.

Keep in mind, when I say serious, I am referring to the commitment. I have no aspirations of being even remotely semi fast (even for my age). That whole thing of measuring me by how I stack up against someone else left AGES ago. And I'm so blessed that it did. I'm my judge, I'm my jury, I'm my standard. Just the way it should have always been. WAY too many things in life are ruined when keeping up with the Jones' or when the standard is someone else.

Maybe, just maybe, my running has reentered the zen stage (not like Kipchoge Zen). It was there for a long time and then departed that fateful day many moons ago when my knee buckled and running was never the same.

So, my knee is healed? Hardly.

About two weeks ago, there was a shift on the pain scale. Normally the consistent spot on that ten scale was 6-7, sometimes a little lower or higher. Now, it's mostly a 3-4 with the occasional 2. I can take that. And some days, like today, I sat in the 2-3 range until around 4 1/2 miles and then we shot up to 8-9. I backed off, adjusted my foot strike, said some nice words to anyone in the vicinity, and brought it back to 3.

There is so much more to write about this, so much more to say about looking in the mirror and accepting and LIKING the person looking back. All that, for another time.

So, "How's my running coming?"

It's coming along nicely. Thanks for asking. By the way, the funky shirt in the picture was a Christmas gift that I could not even put on on Christmas Eve.

Run on.

The Catch Up Blog

When real live people say, "oh, you have a running blog? Doesn't look like you post much." It must be time to post.

At the close of 2023, I wrote this:  "I want to simply feel better: less vulnerable, less fragile. Someday this running thing will end, but not in 2024, and not voluntarily." Luckily, 2024 has gotten gradually, very gradually, better. The weight loss thing is going fairly well (17 pounds so far - still 30+ to go). I'm hoping to have that weight thing accomplished by end of September. We'll see. In my case, lighter is better.

The running part of it has improved as well. I am currently at 690 miles for the year, and probably, unless something drastically changes, will see me around 1700 for the year. Running, of course, can often be somewhat controlled by the condition of my knee. 

January, February, and early March were fairly good from a mileage perspective averaging around 35 miles a week. Late March into April was extremely lame as injury, busy-ness, and apathy hit for three weeks. Logged only 13 miles in those. As I write this, my career total is creeping upward, currently at 122,868. While 123,000 is in the near future, the next landmark is 124, 274.2 ORRRRRR 200,000 kilometers.

Here's what I've noticed: it hurts less and feels considerably more stable. At the same time, it requires constant attention to avoid sprains, twists, pops, buckles, and anything else unsavory. My focus is to get out of slog mode. The slog mode is where it feels more like I am shuffling along as opposed to propelling myself forward. Actually, the intentional forward movement doesn't feel any worse, I've just spent so long slogging around that is more of a mental shift, a discipline thing, than a physical thing. Hopefully the more I work at it, the more natural it will become.

Still working on incorporating the strength and core stuff as well as dusting the cobwebs off my bike. This is the best time of the year to become habitual on those extra goodies as I am in the slow time for work and traveling.

Have set some goals. The first one was the 8 mile trail race at the Greenland Open Space. Unfortunately I missed that one BUT went there Monday and got in the 8 myself. As for the other goals, we'll lay them on the back burner for now.

All in all, life is good (as the t-shirt says). Run on.