This is the AGE!

"You've reached the age in which you don't back down from a challenge. This is the age of knowing how to make things happen. So why would you let something like...This is the age of taking action." Ah man, I love Viagra commercials! Seriously, a cowboy gets his truck stuck in the mud and spinning his tires, he pulls out the horses, and gets the job done. Yeah, nothing suggestive about pulling out the horses! As an aging runner, I can't help but feel like that cowboy stuck in the mud. Every time I go to a race, especially local ones, and I watch from behind some guy 20 years younger than me win at a time much slower than I used to run at his age, I feel stuck in mud. What happened to me? Why can't I rise to the challenge? I should have whipped that young whipper-snapper's tail and let my horses run wild on him. Instead they are trapped in the trailer. Unfortunately, there is no little blue pill that can solve this problem. Besides, I really don't want a run to last more than 4 hours. So how do I rise and not back down from the challenge of slowing down?

As I begin my quest of a sub 36:00 10,000 meter on the track this summer, the first step is simply being realistic about my limitations. One thing that I have learned over the past couple of years is that my body just cannot handle the volume of miles I used to be able to run. The days of hitting 90-100 miles per week are gone. They were fun while they lasted, but, this old body just can't handle that much of a beating. Rest days are no longer just an easy 7-10 miles. A rest day means that I do not lace up and head out the door. And, some days, without warning, like yesterday when my right knee ballooned up and ached all day, parts of my body will revolt and hurt for no apparent reason. Then 24 hours later, like today, everything is fine. But as the commercial states, this is the age of knowing how to make things happen.

Fortunately, at least I hope, with age has come wisdom and knowledge about the sport. My training has become more about quality over quantity, even though I still run between 65-70 miles per week, the focus is on the quality of those miles. Am I practicing good form? Am I stretching and doing drills? Am I working on my core? Are my work-outs geared towards steady improvement based on effort and duration? These questions guide my steps as I carefully plot out my races to help me reach my goal. Performance-wise, I can no longer race every weekend. Family, career, and other responsibilities come before racing, and besides, again, the old body just can't race at a high level as often as it used to. Quality over quantity. I know I only have so many good races in the tank, so I carefully pick high quality events in which I know I have better odds of performing well.

And of course, one must have understanding partners of your plight. One of the things that really helps me cope with this dilemma knowing that I am not alone. Playing with friends your own age with the same, yet varying degrees of symptoms, helps ease the pain and helps us rise to the challenge and take action. Running, like sex, is best done with partners. Even though we can go at it alone, to have others to joke around with, talk about life, and just share in the experience makes it that much more satisfying. Here is the one area that is so much better than when I was younger, the conversations and sharing of the experience is much deeper and richer than before. So maybe the challenge is not how do I keep from slowing down, but how do I keep the passion alive for my first true love? I think the answer is simply sharing it with others. I have been blessed with a great group of running buddies throughout my 30 plus years of putting one Nike in front of the other and it is without a doubt, the number one factor in helping me rise to the challenges I set for myself as an athlete and that is much better than having to take a little blue pill!

So, it is that time once again, to lace up, head out the door, and put some miles in for the day. As always, stay healthy, keep running, and let your horses out of the trailer!

Quest 2013

Most of 2012 I spent learning how to be a runner again after my heart attack. With all the physical and emotional ups and downs, adjusting to meds, paranoia of whether or not I was going to drop dead on a training run, having to carry a phone like a JOGGER, I was just happy with the fact that I was out in the great wide open putting one foot in front of the other and really did not have any grand goals for the year. But...now that is over. It is 2013 and I am starting on my first quest of the year; a sub 36 10,000 meters on the track. Most of my running buddies started their training for the Boston Marathon today. Over the course of the next four months they have carefully laid out a plan in which they hope will carry them to a successful Boston Marathon experience. There are fartleks, track work outs, and long runs inked on paper to guide their steps. They will carefully plot out each build up race and mark milestones along their journey. Each morning run will bring them one step closer to achieving their goal. Myself on the other hand, really do not have any plans on running a marathon again until I am 50. Instead, I want to focus my energy on becoming the best masters track runner that I can be. After stepping onto the track at Hayward Field this past June and running those four beautiful, symmetrical ovals, I have been aching with a desire to return to my first true love...the track. Some may ask, why not just run some road 10ks? Simply put, it is not the same. The track is brutal. There is no hiding in the mid pack, there is no guess work if the course was short or long, it is raw, pure, and simple racing. The track requires of you to show up having done your homework and ready to be tested. There is a reason why many runners are intimidated by the track, she is completely honest with you and you cannot give her excuses, she does not lie to you. If I run 36:01 and miss the All American standard for my age group, then I missed the time and cannot cry that the course was a few seconds off. I like that in a woman, brutal honesty. (Ummm, just don't tell my wife!) So here we go 2013, today is the first day of my quest to once again be an All American athlete. Even though I am much older, hopefully a little wiser than when I first accomplished this goal my senior year in college, with a well planned training schedule, the help of my running buddies, the Visalia Runners, and a little luck, come June 19 in San Diego, I will circle the Mesa College track 25 times in under 36:00 and once again earn the title of All American. Starting today, my focus for the next six weeks is simply building up my mileage. My goal over this period is build up to 70 miles per week. No hard track sessions. No killer fartleks. No brutal 2 hour runs. Just easy miles with a couple of tempo runs and a 12 mile long run. Let the quest begin! Time to lace up the Nikes, head out the door and begin the first week of phase one of my training, a six week base mileage build up. As always, stay healthy, keep running and set yourself some running goals for 2013.

What a Year: Drum roll please...

I have been blessed and honored to have ran countless miles with so many extraordinary people over the past 31, soon to be 32 years, since taking up this sport. I have meet almost everyone that I admire and look up to as running heroes. I have ran with Olympians, World Team members, record holders, fast, slow, mid-pack, young, old and graying runners from across the United States. Each new run typically brings another day that I get to share the journey with someone else you loves to lace up their Nikes and see how fast and far they can make those little rubber soles fly. However, there is one group of guys who stand out above all others, my Sonoma State University Teammates, or as we are known at the Valley Ford Relays, The Last of the Cossacks. It is rather surreal that it was over 24 years ago that I met those guys in the picture for the first time. We, even our coach, Danny Aldridge, or Aldge as we like to call him, were young, scrawny, dreamy eyed boys looking to cover ground like hungry wolves stalking prey. Before us lay only the possibility of greatness and nothing else mattered. We were out to conquer the world, or at least Annadel State Park! To misquote Dickens, "it was the best of times and it was the best of times!" Every run, work-out, and race was an adventure, mainly due to these four guys. Back in February when we got together to run the Valley Ford Relays in God's Country, Sonoma County, it was amazing how even with all the gray hair, loss of hair, and six pack abs rounded into soft rounds of love, we could pick up where we had last left off and keep each other in stitches the whole night through. Beer, pizza, coffee, pancakes, cheap burritos, more beer, oh yeah, and plenty of running with these guys was just what the doctor ordered and it reminded me just how lucky and blessed I am to still be here above dirt. Running can be a demanding sport on those of us who dream of running fast, even in our advancing years, but when you get to share in the struggle with these guys, it makes it all worthwhile. I could go on and on, but without a doubt, the best running moment of 2012 was my weekend with The Last of the Cossacks tearing up a long run in Annadel State Park and then claiming the Master's victory at the Valley Ford Relays. Yup, I can't wait until the weekend of February 18, 2013 when we saddle up again and let the Cossacks run wild. As always, stay healthy, keep running, and Aldge, I still have your gloves! I wear them almost every morning, so you are not getting them back...sorry.

What a Year! Part Two

As I continue to count down my five favorite running memories of 2012, I first want to thank all of my friends and family who read this rant of a runner and I appreciate your kind words you have shared with me over the past couple of years. Running is such a core part of my personality and life and like all good things that God gives you, you just want to share it with others. So without further adieu, on to number three and two. Number 3: Alberto! Eugene is always an awesome experience every time I travel north to the land of Bowerman, Pre, and Nike. Growing up in the 80's one of my running heroes was and is, Alberto Salazar. The man ran with guts, grit and fire. I have never witnessed a runner so lost in the pursuit of victory that all pain, discomfort, and obstacles just melt away under each stride. His famous duel in the sun with Dick Beardsley, the epic battle with Henry Rono in the rain, and his unexpected victory at Comrades are the stuff of legends. The man, simply put, is a running god. But, in order to understand the significance of memory number 3, we must first travel back in time to June 1990. My coach, Danny Aldridge, was a former teammate of Alberto's on the famed Nike Athletics West track club and had managed to not only get himself in the prestigious Prefontaine Classic Track Meet, but also a young, blue-eyed, red-headed gangly kid, falling in love with the sport. Me. To make a long story short, it was a 10,000 meter track race set up for Alberto to make another comeback attempt, I got dead last, lapped twice, all the while enjoying every step of the way as the crowd clapped and cheered, the rain fell softly and crossing the line with a 2 second pr. However, one does not meet their hero everyday, so after the race, I walked up to Alberto and asked for his autograph in my meet program. Here is where it gets cool; Alberto looks up at me and asks, "Why do you want my autograph? You were in the race too!" Holy crap! Alberto just validated me as a runner. I was never the same runner from that moment on. Fast forward to June 2012. I am out running on Pre's trail at the Olympic Trials with my assistant coach Lino, when I notice a figure striding along towards us. With his familiar pigeon toed, slightly hunched over form, Alberto ran by. Thumping Lino in the chest, exclaiming, "Do you know who that was?!" I took two or three more strides, stopped, thought for a moment, turned in my tracks and chased down Alberto. Upon catching him and assuring him I was not some deranged character let loose from the nuthouse, I told him about our encounter in 1990 and then I did what I have been wanting to do for the last 22 years, I got to thank my hero for his kind words. We chatted for a few minutes, shook hands, and as we continued on with our runs, he left me with this, "You never know what affect your kind words to a stranger might have on them." Alberto, your kind words did more than just inspire me to work hard to become the best runner I could be when I was young, but you continue to inspire me, to be the best runner, coach, and person that I can be as the slowing process kicks in the old legs. Thank You Alberto! Number 2: Hayward Magic. I have had the privilege of racing several times on the most magical track in America, Hayward Field. There is something mystical and inspirational about stepping on the track in Eugene. It is as if the ghosts of all the distance legends of the past rise from their sleepy graves and stride along beside you. You are surrounded by history, the creaking of the East Grandstand, the fans who understand the nuances of sport, and a sense that anything is possible. That is why when I read about an all comers track meet during the break in action at the Olympic Trials, I knew I had to bring my racing gear. Since my heart attack, I have been focusing on a new set of personal records that I call post heart attack pr's, aka phaprs! Since I have ran a pr every time I have raced at Hayward Field, including my 2 second pr in the race with Alberto and a 5000 meter NCAA DII qualifier in 1992, I knew that it would not be a successful trip if I did not get a pr in my race. It has been several years, nearly 20, since I had last raced a mile and now seemed like the best time to race one, especially since I was guaranteed a phapr. But, there is magic in the air in Eugene and my feet came alive as I stepped out onto that track, transporting back in time, well, at least in my mind, and the balding, greying, slowing old man was replaced by a bright eyed, jubilant kid striding up and down the backstretch getting ready to take on the world. The brilliant flashes of bright colored spikes, racing flats and singlets zipped by on each stride out. My heart thumped with excitement, butterflies danced in the pit of my gut, and a fire was rising from deep within...I didn't just want a phapr, I wanted a master's pr! Of course I did not want to put a damper on anyone's Olympic Trials experience by having to administer CPR to me from pushing too hard by disobeying my Cardiologist, so I carefully plotted my lap splits and when the gun went off, I went to work. For four illustrious laps, I circled Hayward Field, calmly hitting my planned splits. Meticulously I sliced through the dying stragglers before me and with one last solid push, I managed to run negative splits resulting in a seven-second masters pr in the mile! The magic of Hayward Field hung heavy around me as I melted from the past into the present and realized what I have known since the first time I stepped on a track my freshman year in high school; man, I love this sport! Until the revealing of my favorite running memory of 2012, stay healthy and keep running...oh, if you get a chance to meet and talk to your running hero, make sure to tell them thank you for their inspiration!

What a Year!

Ok, so 2012 is just about to wrap up and be another entry in the old running log, but...As I look back over this past year, it was truly an amazing year in my running life. Ever since my heart attack in November of 2011, I have been trying to rebound and rebuild my running life, however, I was completely caught off guard by the rebirth that occurred during the process of recovering from this life altering experience. I have been blessed with so many friends and memories that make each step of the journey worthwhile and I wouldn't want to be any other kind of athlete than an aging, long-striding runner. So as we close out another trip around the sun here is a look back at my Top 5 experiences in the running life of 2012. Number 5: The Tule Fog Run 5K. When I was lying in the hospital bed during my extended vacation from life, I made myself a promise that I was not going to let a heart attack rob me of what I enjoy most in life, including my beautifully warped obsession of putting one foot in front of the other as fast as I can. One of the first questions I asked my cardiologist was, would I be able to run again? Of course I got the usual, "Well, each person recovers different from the other and you need to just listen to your body and be smart." At which my body was screaming, my demons need to get out and run wild doc! So, I took his advice, took it easy, ran slow, strapped on a heart rate monitor, took my meds, and started putting one foot in front of the other for a few miles each day starting on Christmas morning. However, I needed a starting point. A point of reference that said, from this day forward I am a new runner! So I registered for a local 5K a few weeks later in mid-January, toed the line, stayed in the mid-pack, ran the slowest, yet at the same time, most satisfactory 5K of my life. And, to show that God has a great sense of humor, I won my age division! I never thought in my wildest running dreams that I would be so ecstatic over a 22:30 PW (personal worst), but ecstatic I was and overjoyed with the sheer joy of just being out with "my kind of people" on a cold, wet, winter's day. There was only one direction left for me to go...up! Number 4: My Bux Peeps! One of the things I have discovered since turning 40 a few years back is that I need to play with kids my own age. Most of my running injuries over the past five years have come from when I was out running with my high school athletes that I coach. Kids these days just will not slow down for their elders and when the ugly head of pride rises to the challenge...another six weeks of ice, tylenol, and chocolate. Not only did I sign up for the Tule Fog Run when I got out of the hospital, I also immediately joined our local running club, The Visalia Runners. Of course it was an easy sell, they have a group that meets in the morning at the various Starbucks and after all, there is no better recovery drink than a Grande Dark Roast with Room! Turns out, this was the best decision I have made in years. Even though I have to rise at the ungodly hour of 3:30am a couple of times per week in order to make it to the 4:30 start time, it is well worth plucking the extra large chunks from my eyes way before the break of dawn in order to log a few miles, sip some steamy brew, and share a few laughs. Running is both solitary and communal. There are days when I need to just be with myself out on the trails, roads or canals, but most days the task of covering 8 to 12 miles can be a daunting endeavor that makes me want to run to the sheets and cuddle up with my wife. It is so much easier to slide out from under the covers, slip on the tights, grab the gloves, lace up, kiss my wife and head out the door knowing that my new colorful cast of friends await. There is something to be said about the shared experience of lunacy! Here we are, all grown, professional people, up before the rooster, running amuck on the streets of Visalia, scantily clad in a colorful array of bright colored shoes, shorts, and tights, cackling and laughing the whole way, all the while, the rest of our sleepy community slumbers as we glide down the streets at breakneck speeds. Then we ascend upon the other early risers drinking copious amounts of rich dark heaven, as if we really need a stimulant to get us going, swapping glorious tales. Ahhhh man, it is so much fun! So to all my Bux Peeps, which are way too many to name, but you know who you are, a huge heartfelt thank you for making this one of the best years in all of my thirty-one years of the running life. Until tomorrow when I will share moments 3 and 2, stay healthy and keep running!