Recently in roadrunner Category

The hills are so green. They are a sight I could admire for hours, maybe even for days. I often wish they would stay green throughout the year. I imagine it won't be long before they are brown once more.

Okay, I just spent half of my train ride (a.k.a. writing time) staring at the hills, when what I meant to do was recount some of the highlights of this three-day weekend.

This weekend, I

> finished The Historian. Because of this lengthy book, I fell off of my book-a-week pace, but it was worth it. The story involved many train rides across Europe and visits to old monasteries and libraries. It was an enjoyable piece of historical fiction that blended the Dracula of history (Vlad Tepes III or Vlad the Impaler) with the Dracula of myth (Stoker's vampire). I am a sucker for books with maps, so I was hooked once I spied the map of Cold War Europe on the inside cover.

> beheld, but did not hold a twenty-six-hour-old baby. As babies go, she is tiny and extremely cute. Of course, now that she's four times as old as when I first saw her, I wonder how much she's grown. While she appeared alert and observant in between her naps, I doubt she remembers who I am. Such is my life.

> watched the pilot of MacGyver on DVD. When it premiered on television, back in 1985, I thought it was one of the coolest shows on the air. Twenty-one years later, it seems a little more corny than cool, but I got a good laugh from watching it. If one were to watch it with a critical eye, one could point out many flaws, but that would ruin the fun of the show.

Random bit of trivia: The baby and MacGyver were both born on March 23rd.

Another random bit of trivia: Her parents did not name her Angus. How corny cool would that have been if they had?

> ran three miles. This is only significant because I have been extremely bad about running. It had been quite a while since I last run three miles and my legs are feeling it today. All it means is that I need to do it more often and regain some of that lost endurance.

Over the last few days, I've spent a good deal time, including the time I would normally spend writing here, taking a look deep down inside, questioning myself and making resolutions. Sometimes, the most important resolutions aren't the ones you make with each new year. They are the ones that cover things you should have always done and should always strive to do. They aren't the resolutions you advertise, but the ones you keep and keep in mind.

Since Saturday, I've been building the first of two brick walls in the backyard. Of course, it hasn't been a solitary undertaking. I've received a ton of help, especially with loading, unloading and placing the roughly one-hundred keystone bricks that make up the retaining wall near the fence line. I figure I'll need just as many to complete the flower bed once I dig the trench. The bricks are tan, weigh about twenty-five pounds each and look similar to these garden wall units. When completed, it should be just the right height for sitting. I need to remember to take some photos while everything is still underway and once it's all finished.

On Sunday, we ran the Wildflower 5K Fun Run. The race benefits the American Association of University Women's scholarship fund. The course is nearly a complete loop that begins in the local high school's parking lot, passes a number of farms, a medical center, a new housing development, more farms and finishes by the high school's soccer and baseball fields. The terrain was completely flat, which made it ideal for folks who desired a leisurely morning jog. I chugged along at a comfortable 9:12 per mile pace.

In 2003, I ran twelve races, which now seems like an excessive number. Last year, thanks to an ankle injury, I only participated in three runs. Sunday's race felt good and boosted my motivation to stick with the outdoor runs and indoor workouts. If possible, I hope to participate in five or six races this season. Most of them will likely be 5Ks, but I'd also like to do a 10K or two.

Last year, rain fell on the Run to the Far Side. This year was sunny and chilly. As I stood at the start line (or as close as I could to the line with a thousand other runners in front me), I had two options:

1. stand there and freeze, or
2. run five kilometers and warm up.

Since it made little sense to pay twenty some odd dollars to stand around and shiver, I ran. This year's loop started and finished at the site where they are rebuilding the California Academy of Sciences. The Academy celebrated its 150th anniversary last year and the new facility will open in 2008.

My goal for the race wasn't to run a personal best. I simply wanted to enjoy the City, the day and the costumes inspired by Gary Larson's comic strip. That's the wonderful thing about races. Your goal can be as stressful as wanting to finish first or as relaxing as wanting to cross the finish line with your running partner. I completed Sunday's run in a time of 29:10.

After the race, we had brunch at Cafe de Pera, saw the Christmas tree in Union Square and visited a couple of the stores around the square before leaving San Francisco.

On Sunday, I returned to Crissy Field to run the 14th Annual Komen San Francisco Race for the Cure. Although the course was the same as last year, the whole area felt different. Last year, the morning was cool and sunny and there was a view of the Golden Gate Bridge. This year, it was cold and so thick with fog that a newcomer would never know a bridge existed. It took most of the morning for the sun to burn through and reveal the tower tops of the bridge.

Quilted Northern Ultra, a bath tissue company, was one of this year's major sponsors. "Bath tissue" is a euphemism for "toilet paper". At the race, they had people dressed up as the Quilters roaming the crowd and had deluxe portable restrooms set up for race participants to use. I didn't bother to try the spruced up facilities, but now I regret not being curious enough to see what was so deluxe about them.

Pink was the color of the day. It wasn't unusual to see people sporting pink pajamas, scarves, ribbons or wigs. Survivors wore special pink t-shirts and visors. Participants were invited to pin pink cards to their clothing, with the name of their loved one affected by breast cancer, to help celebrate or remember them.

At one end of the venue, large tribute quilts were on display. Each quilt had perhaps sixteen panels; each made by different families in memory of the ones they had lost. Their love and sadness, sewn into the quilted fabric, served to remind us why we were running.

I ran the five-kilometer course in a time of 25:38, a minute slower than what I ran last year, but a minute faster than my last 5K. The next race I plan to attend is two months away. My goal is to run a personal best and yesterday's event gives me hope that I can achieve it. My legs felt good throughout the race and they aren't sore today. That's always a good sign.

My legs are sore from running over the weekend. I usually walk funny, but today, I'm walking funnier than usual. The wincing and sporadic yelps work nicely with my slow, ginger footsteps. Sitting doesn't help the situation, but stretching in my cubicle does. I'll take strange looks from coworkers over increasingly stiff muscles any day.

Yesterday, for the second year in a row, I ran the 5K event of the Chronicle Marathon. It was my first race of 2004 and the first one in eight months. For those keeping track at home, my last race was Run to the Far Side. Based on a doctor's recommendation, I had been giving my foot a rest from running... for the most part. Every now and then, I would sneak in a couple of miles on the treadmill or track. It's hard to sit still or take a break from an activity you love.

Of course, running "every now and then" doesn't improve one's time, which is my excuse for logging a dismal 26:31, a minute longer than last year. If I look at the time with a clear head and healthy attitude, it's decent, but from a personal perspective, it sucks. I've been faster in the past and will be faster again. I have to take this dissatisfaction and transform it into sustained motivation. Fifty-five days remain until the next race. Achy legs mean I haven't been running enough. It's time to rest less, run more and run faster.

He took my foot in his hands, pressed it with both thumbs and said, "If I press here, does it hurt?" I shook my head and noticed he was still looking at my foot. "No," I said quickly.

"How about here?"
"No."
"Here?"
"No."
"If I press all the way up this vein?"
"No... no... no."

This went on until podiatrist thumbprints covered my entire foot. With every push and poke, I felt increasingly bad for not experiencing any piercing pain. It was as if I was letting him down. Taking my heel in one hand and my toes in the other, he said, "I'm going to move your foot in ways that may be uncomfortable or you're not used to, okay?" I wasn't really in a position to disagree with a rhetorical question.

"Okay, here we go. Tell me if you feel any sharp pain." He swiveled my foot from side to side. I felt nothing out of the ordinary. Pivot. Lift. Turn. Twist. Lower. Bend. Still nothing. Extreme worry and doubt set in. What was going on? Had I only imagined the soreness and tingling in my foot all of these weeks? Was it stress-related? Psychosomatic?

The doctor paused for a moment and then gently put my foot down. He instructed me to take off my other boot and sock, go out to the corridor and walk up and down the cold tile hallway. With somebody intently watching me, walking became ten times more difficult. I must have exhibited the grace of Frankenstein's monster.

We reentered the exam room and as I sat down, he took one more look at the x-rays. "Based on what I've seen and the words you've used, I would say gobble gobble..." He talked in medicalspeak as he listed his determinations from the examination. Since he hadn't detected any loss of movement, strength or feeling in my foot, he concluded that it was a case of inflammation.

"I can prescribe you an anti-inflammatory other than Motrin or give you a cortisone injection. Both will lessen the annoyance factor. Despite the medication, your foot will heal on its own, but it'll be a slow process, taking anywhere between three to six months to fully heal."

The doctor recommended not running for another month or two. I had already taken a month off in the hopes of seeing some improvement. Completing a marathon will have to wait. I've known for a few weeks now and have been down about it, but I tell myself that it's only a postponement.

I left the hospital relieved. The situation wasn't as bad as I feared. It's temporary and fixable and that eases my mind. The podiatrist also said that I could still hike, which is good news. It means my weekend plans are intact.

Every week, I receive an electronic newsletter from Runner's World. The latest edition had this advice:

"Pick one race you've never run before and make it your goal to do it. Preferably pick an event that's exotic and requires travel. Make that the focus of your running."

Somebody recently suggested registering for the Suzuki Rock 'n' Roll Marathon held this June in San Diego. I haven't been down there in ages and a visit would be fun. Forty bands will perform along the twenty-six-mile course and Chris Isaak will headline the post-race concert.

While the music and location sounded great, the distance scared me, so I quickly dismissed the idea. I've never done a marathon. Completing one has been a long-term goal of mine, but "long-term" has usually been a euphemism for "far-fetched and totally insane". I've always feared such an endeavor would require more discipline, commitment and strength than I possess.

That was a few days ago and I've been thinking things over. My self-confidence, which makes rare guest appearances, won't let the matter rest. It believes I can be ready for the race if I focus and faithfully follow a training schedule and regimen.

Perhaps I should also consider two other facts. First, I'm not getting any younger. In the future, more than a lingering cough may ail me. Second, my time is my own for now, free of major obligations, available to use as I choose. Who knows how long that will last?

I have until the end of January to decide and register. After that, the fee increases by fifteen dollars. Before I make a final decision, I need to be sure I know what is involved. I can't allow my doubts to dictate my choice, either by surrendering to them or by recklessly rebelling against them.

My legs had been growing jealous of all the exercise my fingers had been getting in November. To make up for the perceived inequity, I promised to take them running. So on Sunday, I ran in the Run to the Far Side, an annual event hosted by and benefiting the California Academy of Sciences.

The five-kilometer loop started in Golden Gate Park, exited on Oak Street, made a left at Broderick and returned to the park on Fell Street. The most evil courses begin with a gradual downhill, lulling everyone into a false sense of quickness, only to get ugly and uphill on the way back.

The rain behaved (or was apathetic) during the run, providing only a misting effect. But its patience soon ran out and it began to fall in earnest as I stood in line for a free cup of coffee. When informed they were temporarily out, I settled for a tiny cup of peppermint hot chocolate.

That was when I met up with a couple of cool people. I blindly trusted and went along with them when they said there was a Starbucks at the other end of a somewhat secluded path. We made it to the one on Irving Street. Hot venti mochas taste much better on a rainy day.

We then took a literal walk around the block and ended up at Howard's Cafe for breakfast. I simply got soaked on the journey back to the car. Thank goodness for the warm, dry clothes waiting in the backseat.

I liked the way Sunday morning turned out. Good run, good food and good company. I was happy and so were my legs.

On Sunday, I woke up early for the annual Komen San Francisco Race for the Cure. This year, it was held at Crissy Field in the Presidio. The purpose of the event was to raise money for breast cancer research, dedicate the day to those suffering from the disease and celebrate those who have survived it.

The morning was cool and sunny. The Golden Gate Bridge was entirely visible and so were the boats sailing in the bay. The 5K loop began on Mason Street, circled the field in a counter-clockwise fashion up to Fort Point before returning. The fastest runner finished in 15:12, while I moseyed in with a 24:21.

I met up with a couple of folks after the run. We grabbed our free breakfast and filled our bags with all types of goodies. I now have enough PowerBars to last me the entire week. We hung out there for a little while and enjoyed the bay, the breeze, the people and the running high. It felt good.

Yesterday, I ran the Gift Of Life 5K in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park. The race was a loop that began and ended at the Conservatory of Flowers. Along the way it circled Stow Lake, passing by Huntington Falls and the Chinese Pavilion.

I ran the relatively flat course in 24:44, which is a personal best, but much slower than other runners in my age bracket. For the first few races, being in the middle of the pack didn't bother me, but my competitive spirit is starting to kick in and wants to win, at least once.

On a different note, I'm so taken with the park and the amount of activity that courses through it. The number of joggers, rollerbladers, cyclists and tourists is amazing. Where I usually run, solitude is easily achievable. While I enjoy it most of the time, there are days when it would be nice to be surrounded by other active people. It's yet another reason why I would love to live in the City.

Instead of running in Santa Cruz, as I had hoped, I spent Sunday morning in San Francisco. I ran the 5K event offered through the San Francisco Chronicle Marathon. The course was a terrific loop along the Embarcadero, between the Ferry Building and Pac Bell Park.

With the water on one side and some beautiful architecture on the other, I was easily distracted from my usual race day jitters. When the stadium came into sight, it was a moment of elation. It felt like game day, especially when a scalper, watching from the median island, asked me, "Hey! How many tickets do you want to buy?"

Half way through the race, a group of us had to unexpectedly stop for the snail-slow Muni Metro. By the time it passed, there was a nice pack of disgruntled runners at King and 3rd. I eventually crossed the finish line with a solid time of 25:12. It was the best I've physically felt during and after a race.

Later, I rewarded myself with a venti mocha malt frappuccino (but only after drinking plenty of water). I left the city on a high and couldn't help but be happy the rest of the day.

We'll be playing and having fun
And it makes me feel so fine
I can't control my brain

A lengthy entry about a typical run, one Monday night...

I stepped out into the night air. It was around 8:30, with only a little daylight left. I walked out to Main Street and took two steps east, away from town and towards the highway. I jumped a couple of times to loosen my muscles and pump up my motivation. Then, I just ran.

Steadily, I went straight over the overpass and all the way to stoplight. I made a left at the light and ran down a two-lane road, which had no streetlights or sidewalks, but was lined with fields on either side. The path was darkening quickly. Every now and then, a passing vehicle would light the way.

I was supposed to get up early on July 4th to run in Morgan Hill's Freedom 5K. I wasn't feeling all that well, but I convinced myself I could do it. That delusional thinking worked until the last quarter mile, when reality caused a nasty cramp. Thinking about the delicious post-race pancake breakfast (with coffee and bagels) was the only thing that kept me going. I finished with a mediocre time of 26:40.

After breakfast, I stopped home for a quick shower and change before returning to see the parade. Monterey Highway, which runs through the center of town, was closed for the lengthy procession of vintage cars, school buses, fire trucks, tow trucks, horses, marching bagpipe groups, high school bands and farm equipment.

The traffic after the parade was horrendous. Little roads were never intended for so many SUVs. I managed to get out of town and make it up to my parents' place for a tasty chicken barbecue and weekend stay.

We watched San Jose's fireworks display on television, but it wasn't nearly as impressive as the ones in New York and Washington DC. We also watched the neighborhood display as parents let their kids set off various explosive devices in the park across the street. Only the continuous barking of freaked out dogs was louder than the explosions.

I arrived at the Fremont train station at 5:30 on a cold Sunday morning, anticipating a large crowd that never materialized. The train came on time and was soon heading to the Embarcadero station in San Francisco. In Hayward, two people dressed as hamburger and fries boarded.

As I emerged from the underground station on Market Street, the sight of towering skyscrapers reminded me why I love San Francisco. Then while I ate a bagel for "breakfast", an odd woman approached me and said, "I hope you are well-hydrated. Six ounces every twenty minutes. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. Heel toe, heel toe. Good luck." I thanked her and she simply walked over and sat on a bench in Justin Herman Plaza.

At the corner of Spear and Howard, where a large crowd was already gathering, tortillas and beach balls flew through the air. I spotted a guy dressed as pizza conversing with the hamburger and fries. The lady next to me suddenly gasped, tugged at her friend's sleeve and pointed at an old man wearing a bright yellow cap and nothing else. Behind me, I glimpsed the perfect party float. It was a six by ten foot hut with beer on tap, music and around a dozen guys in Hawaiian shirts and hula skirts.

Saturday morning was spent at UC Santa Cruz. I was there for Slug Run IV, "a run with a view". I'm sure this is true when there's no fog. It's a beautiful campus full of rolling hills that gradually drop down to the Monterey Bay.

I never faced a more challenging course. Only training on flat streets and trails left me unprepared for all of the very unflat hills. The aptly named "roller coaster" section, between miles two and three, was the most difficult segment. It was a series of long uphill runs followed by short downhills, one after the other.

The race made me realize how much I still have to learn. Strategies and techniques are important to remain patient and maintain stamina. For example, to overcome the steep hills, I tried to break them down into mentally manageable sections, forgetting the finish line and only focusing on five or six footfalls at a time. I wasn't always successful.

I finished the 5K with a respectable time of 27:24. There's so much room for improvement. Later, while enjoying some post-race snacks and refreshments, the sun finally decided to break through, burn away the fog and reveal the glistening bay.

And just in case you were curious, #33 in the photo isn't me (though it does bear a striking resemblance). It's UCSC's official mascot, the banana slug.

I registered for a couple of runs coming up in May and July. I thought that it would be amusing to state my goals now. In a month or two, I'll be able to see if my expectations were reasonable or completely bogus.

The first run I registered for was the Bay To Breakers in San Francisco on May 18th. It's a 7.5 mile run/walk that begins by the Embarcadero and finishes way over in Golden Gate Park. It benefits, most notably, the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society and UCSF's Cancer Center.

This year's goal is to finish under one hour and fifteen minutes. To accomplish that requires a ten minute mile pace. I know for a fact that I can't run the whole thing continuously, but I can hopefully chain together a steady combination of walking and running to achieve the average.

The other run I signed up for was the Wharf to Wharf, happening on July 27th. It takes place in Santa Cruz, California, one of my favorite towns. It's a six-mile run that begins at the Santa Cruz Wharf, by the Beach Boardwalk, and finishes up at the Capitola Wharf. The proceeds benefit local school track and field programs.

My goal for the run is pretty lax. I'll be happy with anything less than an hour. If I remain focused (and disciplined), it isn't unrealistic to steadily increase my endurance over the next twelve weeks to run that distance.

7:00 AM
I'm up early, way too early for a Sunday morning. I'm running in the Mercury News Run/Walk along with 8,000 other people. It's a fundraising event to benefit local schools.

8:00 AM
The morning sky is so clear and it is in the mid-60s. A beautiful day for running. I register and make my way to the starting line for the 5K run that will start soon. My goal is to complete it under thirty minutes.

9:00 AM
It begins. The first mile is the most frustrating. I find myself trying to break free from the herd of walkers and get ahead of the pack. To make up for the lost time, I run faster than my typical pace.

Mile 2.5
I'm beginning to regret the decision to make up time. My legs are fighting me and I alternate between walking and running.

Mile 2.75
As I come up the other side of an underpass, I'm greeted with the sounds of a school band seated along a stretch of sidewalk. Half expecting to hear the theme from Rocky as I come over the rise, I must be dehydrated.

Mile 3
I'm feeling disappointed and very slow. I suddenly I see the finish line banner off in the distance. My legs somehow find the strength to continue running and complete the race.

9:30 AM
I walk back to Discovery Meadow with a sense of relief. There are a number of booths providing runners with bottled water, juice, apples, bananas, breads, biscotti and even coffee. After drinking three bottles of water to rehydrate, I enjoy my first cup of delicious coffee.

4:00 PM
I'm online to check my official time. I find my name and instantly shut my eyes. If I don't look, maybe the number will shrink. I open my left eye slowly and read the time... 27:34! That's an 8:52 minute mile.

I was happily surprised. I now have a faster time to shoot for in the next race. For the record, the fastest runner completed the course in 15:52.