Apparently, I Forgot to Stop

 

           Me, running at 100 (according to malcolm)

That's the only thing that makes sense. I must have started this running journey at 24 months old. I mean, I just looked and my Garmin says I'm 62.

Nonetheless, today August 12, 1966, I started a running journey that seems to go on and on and on. 

60 years, 127,107 miles. That's roughly 204,559 in kilometers. Let's put that in some sort of perspective, that's more than 5 times around the world. That's 53% of the way to the moon (which by the way, 53% kills you - or turns you into a satellite). 

I suppose this is where I’m supposed to reflect on 60 years of running.

The races. The people. The places. The victories, the disappointments, the injuries, the comebacks. The miles in heat, snow, rain, darkness, and probably a few conditions in which no reasonably intelligent person would have gone outside.

But I’ve written about most of that before.

Been there. Done that. Literally. And maybe that’s the point.

Running has been part of my life for so long that I don’t really think of it as something I’ve done. It’s just something I do.

• I ran when I was 15.
• I ran when I was 35.
• I ran when I was 50.
• I ran this morning.

Different speeds. Different distances. Different body parts complaining. 

Same runner.

When I was in college and just after, I occasionally ran with a guy named Frank McBride. Frank was 44 years old, and we thought he was ANCIENT.

Seriously. 44. How was this man even alive let alone still running?

The annoying part was that ancient bastard, Frank, could still run a sub-five-minute mile.

That’s Frank in the white top and red shorts. I’m next to him, on his right.

I am now A LOT older than Frank was then. Hmmmm.

As Forrest Gump would say, "That's all I'm going to say about that....."

People occasionally ask me why I still run.

After 60 years, I think they’re asking the wrong question.

Why would I stop?

Run on.

By the way, that top picture....... I don't think I have that much hair now, forget when I'm 100.

AND, want the longer report about my running life, it came at the 100,000 mile mark.

https://runspittle.blogspot.com/2012/10/the-100000-mile-report.html 

127,000

Today's run:  brings the journey to 127,000 miles (actually, now 127,003) all in a mere 21, 894 days.

HEY, NBC, USATF!!!! The Half Year Rant!

As the title suggests, it's been over six months since I last posted in this beautiful space. One might think that means I have been absent from the world of running..... oh contraire. (now, a fascinating, or not, side note: I actually spelled "oh contraire" the first attempt). 

SO, the report.

Two days ago, I hit the 1000 mile mark for the year. I've always stated that for me the marker of a serious running year was 2000 miles. Well, it's entirely possible that I could hit that magical, "serious" mark yet again. I must, however, confess that my running in 2026 is nothing close to serious.

Most of my running is done at the same paces, at the same locations, and in the same clothes (Not really, but close). It's very leisurely and meant to be one of the things that connects me to my youth at the ripe old age of 74.

The knee, you ask? Well nothing much has changed there. I have good days and bad days. If a good day ranks 7-10 on the ten scale, then most sit around 4 or 5. Some days I think surgery would make a difference, dome days I think it would be a waste of time during the recovery phase (because I couldn't run). 

Most days I'm trying out useless braces and straps from Instagram hucksters who swear they'll cure anything. It's amazing the detailed productions put out there to steal my precious $29.95 to cure my ailing knee, but hey, capitalism, right?

My motivation is high, for both myself and the sport in general. I can sit for hours soaking up the live stream of the Western States 100 or any obscure UTMB trail race.

AND BY THE WAY.... Hey NBC, guys with drones and video backpacks can track races in the middle of the mountains in Europe for crying out loud. Why can't you show anything but the front of the pack in a marathon? Why can't you have cameras on the top Americans (yeah, that's plural). And why, OMG, WHY do you think I give a rats ass about the weatherman trying to break 4 hours. I'm not sure why no major network in this country has ever figured out how to televise a running event, but I have this idea: STOP trying to cater to the audience that doesn't exist. STOP trying to bring new people to the sport, they will arrive when they arrive. START producing shows that appeal to runners, throwers, jumpers and the like. THAT will make the difference. THAT might make your telecasts bearable.

AND while we're at it, Hey USATF, you say you're here to promote the sport, but getting access to any of your events is a nightmare AND then I have to figure out how to pay for it. PAY FOR IT? Why, on God's green earth should I have to pay to watch the USA 6k road championships? You should be BEGGING me to watch it. Oh wait, I forgot, the priority is that the rich must stay rich off the backs of fans and participants. And I thought we got past that after Ollan Cassell. Whatever.

Extra notes. 

1) I have fallen completely in love with the Adidas Adizero EVO SL shoes. FABulous cushion, a great fits, and just a great show. And while I'm at it, Adidas clothes are the best. Oh and while I'm thinking about it, the Purechill slides are my go-to everyday, every moment footwear.

2) On August 12, I will have my 60th runnerversary. Wow, Long time.

3) and finally, in 29 miles, we will hit 127,000.

Sweet.

Have a great day on the road, on the track, on the trail..... wherever.

Run on.

Another One Bites the Dust

I remember my first day of cross country practice AGES ago, Coach Pingel said, "always log your miles." So, of course, I did. I have ever since. Today, I put away the 2025 log. 2018 miles logged for the year. That ranks 33rd of the 61 loggable (?) years. 

As has been mentioned mucho times in this blog, I have always considered 2000 miles to be the mark of a serious running year. This year might be the end of that. Not necessarily the end of 2000 mile years, but surely the end of that as a measuring stick.

SO.... that puts us at 125,961 for my career, that's 202,714 kilometers for my kilo peeps.

Frankly, I do not see another major milestone in the near future. 150,000 miles? Maybe if I keep running till I'm like 85-90 (unlikely, but you never know). I did have a dream once that I was 87 years old and crossed the finish line of the New York City marathon, keeled over after a heart attack. As they were putting me on a stretcher, my sons were yelling, "Put the medal around his neck, put the medal around his neck" Good call fellas.

The 2025 race report is simple: zero. 

So another one bites the dust. Next year? Don't know, but barring the unforeseen, I'll go for a run tomorrow to kick off the New Year.

Happy New Year. Run on.

Kipling Knew.....

In "IF", Kipling wrote,"If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, And treat those two imposters just the same."

That's it. Right there. He was right. When Disaster strikes, we need to chill.... not take it so seriously or so personally. When Triumph hits, we need to do the same. It's the steady, even keel that counts. We're never as awesome as we're hyped up to be, and never as terrible as we sometimes think (or are told).

And so it is with MY life.

I ran over 2000 miles this year. That, according to me, is the measure of serious running. So, is that a Triumph? I'm unsure because there was nothing serious or triumphant about my running in 2025.

In my professional life, I had 57 invoiceable gigs. That's my worst year in the last five. Does that make it a Disaster? I had connected better and had more fun this year than I can remember.

What does this mean?

It means that Kipling was right. If we understand both Triumph and Disaster as "imposters" we'll be okay. It's never as good or bad as we think.

Runners know this instinctively. We don't run, necessarily, for the medal, we run because we're runners.

This year reminded me of that the same is true professionally.

I don't teach because the calendar is full,

I teach because it's who I am.

Triumph and Disaster are just mile markers.

The real work is staying on your feet - and moving forward.

Run on.

The End of Seriousness

Not much left in 2025. In fact, as of this writing 24 days. If I play my cards right, I will slightly, ever so slightly, pass 2000 miles for the year. In fact, at a very reasonable 5 miles a day, the total will be 2002. 

I suppose I could be greedy and up it to 6 miles a day so that I could do that "Run The Year You're In" thing. The whole run the year you're in thing is kind of a stupid goal because,  let's see, I get older every year, but I'm supposed to run further every year. Nah, not interested.

For years now, I have maintained that my running was measured to be serious or not by the 2000 mile mark. In the 59 years I have engaged in this running thing, I have surpassed the magic number 30 times. This, barring the unforeseen, will obviously be the 31st.

And maybe the last.

You see, what I've discovered in 2025 is that I AM not longer serious. Not complaining, whining, feeling like a victim, just acknowledging that while I still enjoy the run, there is nothing motivating me to do it in any particular way, for any particular distance. I'd like to think that this means I am passed it all and have moved on to a more zen-like state. Actually I'm tired.

And tired is okay.

Run on.

You Can't Be on a Roll With a Square Wheel

Taking some time off. Rough runs in Idaho. Irresponsible eating (meaning almost none)  and a complete lack of water. Result: Severe dehydration (or as the EMT called it - Severe Stupidity) followed by urinary tract infection. 

Enough said.

When You're on a Roll.....

 

Weird guy in Greenland

Keep rolling, right?

Just wrapped up a 52 mile week with an excellent trail run yesterday down in the Greenland Open Space. It was originally supposed to be an 8 miler, but with a wrong turn and a detour plus a bit of an add-on, it became 11. It went really well while I was in-run, but sure sucked last night and today. Sore. But sore means...... what? Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger, I suppose.

I guess I can't complain. Since the week of June 8, every one has been 40 miles minimum, with the exception of two where I backed off and used them as recovery weeks. My knee, while far from perfect, is for the most part, pain free. Yeah, I get little jolts every now and then, and tightness and stability can be challenging, but gone are the day of pops and buckles. If you're unsure about a pop OR a buckle, go here: https://runspittle.blogspot.com/2020/09/pops-and-buckles-what-happens-to-my-knee.html.

At this point 70-80% of all running is on trail/dirt. It's obviously much softer, but mostly everywhere that has trail/dirt as a surface is nicer, prettier, and less stressful that the concrete. The best "local" spots for these ventures is the singletrack from Tagawa down to Cottonwood and all of the side trips, the East West Trail either side of I-25, Hidden Mesa, and one of my favorites Bayou Gulch. 

Bayou Gulch is a nice constantly rolling trail South of Parker. It's pretty much up to you how far
you go as there are trail offshoots and loops all over the place. Last Saturday, it was good for 10 miles, which was nothing compared to the young woman who was logging multiple versions of the big loop (3+ miles). I'm guessing she was in the 13-16 range.

Tubbs Hill

Also made up for a terrible run on Tubbs Hill in Coeur d'Alene with a great one a few weeks ago. I love approaching the Hill with some miles along the Spokane River to make sure everything is working. Then it up we go. Most of Tubbs Hill (which is a 2+ mile loop) is surrounded by Lake Coeur d'Alene. Most of it is fairly easy trail, but there are some pockets of moderately technical rock/root stuff to make it interesting. For more interest, at any given time it's going either up or down. One of my favorite spots.

As far as the "racing" scene goes, I have the Boulderthon (either the 5 or 10K) at the end of September and the Mt Tam Trail Race in early November. Might be a Turkey Trot in there somewhere and who knows, maybe a Jingle run.

SOOOO, that's my story. Just rolling along.

Run on.

Another Year Bites the Dust

My Birthday? NO. It’s my 59th runnerversary.

I began this fabulous journey as a runner back on this day in 1966. Also on that day, the Beatles kicked off their last US tour AND….. the Pirates beat the Reds 14-11. 115 years earlier Singer patented the sewing machine. Seems like my launching this love of running was considerably more important than any of these events.

Interestingly, the last 3-4 months have been pretty good. Outside of a major fall and some occasional flareups, I'm in a decent space: slow and happy.

Since my 58th, I’ve covered 2104 miles. Here’s to another year down. Next comes 60!

Not much else to say this morning, gotta go run. 

If you'd like more, try https://runspittle.blogspot.com/2015/08/49-years-running-its-who-i-am.html

OR: https://runspittle.blogspot.com/2011/08/happy-anniversary-to-me-45-years-of.html

All Is Well....... Really.....

Four days ago they held the Mont Blanc 23k race without me. How dare they!!!! Well, I fixed them, I watched the livestream of the Western States 100 instead.

In the meantime, my body is serving me well, my wife and dog are still loving and loyal, and my garden is growing like crazy. I suppose I can't complain. So where do I start (reviewing, not complaining)?

I've been stringing together weeks of mileage in the low 40's. This week I hope to jump to around 47-48 and next week reset the bar to upper 40's / lower 50's. For the sheer joy of it, I've sprinkled in a dash of road cycling, 3 days a week, 14-20 miles per session.

On June 30, I ran 6 miles in my neighborhood marking the end of the half year. I have often said, in this blog offering, I really have only two rules in my running: 1) if it isn't at least 3 miles, it isn't a run, and 2) 2000 miles in a year is the measurement gauging whether I've had a serious year. After logging 2508 in 2021, that year was followed by 1730, 1613, 1657. Unsatisfactory. Well after that halfway run, I was at 1036 for the year and on pace for 2000. AND, of equal note, currently sitting at 124,895 career miles, closing in on 125,000. Nice.

All in all, my knee had a pretty good month. The problem? Working in the yard. Up, down, squat, sit, OH MAN it sucks. There must be a way to robot this stuff (especially the weeding). If we can vacuum with the irobot, where is the iweeder? Maybe that's my next invention. Next..... hahahahaha, what was my first invention?

Racing? I have no real racing goals for the summer (and by racing I mean participating in an event where other people are racing). I wouldn't mind returning to the Boulderthon in the fall (it was fun), maybe a couple of trail runs in the hills, and maybe the Mt Tam Trail run in NORCAL in November. We'll see. And maybe, just maybe, a sprint triathlon in Coeur d'Alene in August (will have to go for a swim at some point, I suppose). Jury still out on that one.

So, there it is. It's summer and no matter where you might be, it's a great time to be out and about. So, have fun and be safe.

Run on.

Well, That Wasn't Good Part 2. AKA Mont Blanc Episode NO

No bloody picture to view, no bruises across my chest, nothing physical left over from the fall of April 2025. The after effects, however, remain. 

Tomorrow marks seven weeks since I fell on a trail in Oceanside, CA. As mentioned, physically I'm fine. My running volume has dropped considerably, my enthusiasm even more, and I'm not sure why. Except that I do know why: I'm scared and feeling very vulnerable.

As much as I would like to say that the falling trail was rocky, craggy, rooty, and highly technical, it was none of those. I just hit an uneven spot and my old age/too fat lack of response and/or lack of flexibility couldn't keep me up. I tried, couldn't get the job done. THAT was checkbox number one.

Less that a week later I was in Coeur d'Alene, one of my favorite places to be, and to run. On my arrival, I stayed safe and ran the Spokane River trail: asphalt, well maintained. On day 2, I took the River trail into town and up onto Tubbs Hill, a 2 1/2 mile trail loop around the Hill. Five minutes in, I turned back. Chickened out. THAT was checkbox number two.

The final box was checked this past weekend near Westcliffe. The plan was to head up the road from the cabin in which we were staying and head to Rainbow Something trail, expecting it would be beautiful. The hill from the cabin up the road was moderately short, but fairly steep. Less than an 1/8th of a mile up, I turned around. THAT was checkbox number three.

Monday, after returning home, Vulnerable, chicken me, officially withdrew from the Mont Blanc 23k. Too much. Maybe there'll be another time.

Run on.