Young Guns

What a great weekend of racing. The Penn and Drake Relays, Payton Jordan Invite, a local Half Marathon and our city championships track meet between our three local high schools. It is so much fun to watch the young guns out there giving every ounce of energy, sweating, and pushing themselves to the extremes of their physical potential. Scores of personal records set the tone for the day. One former athlete after over a year of struggling with a severe leg injury bounced back to his old self winning both of his races and setting a pr in the mile. A current athlete that I coach set a school record with his pr in the mile and then came back to win the 800 with a big kick over the last 100. Nothing like a super tight finish to get a coach to have a stroke on the infield. And yet another ran pr's in both the mile and 800! Best of all, an athlete that I have had the privilege of coaching for the past couple of years capped off his senior year with a huge pr in the two mile. As much as I love to compete, coaching and watching this young men fall in love with the sport and strive for excellence is what makes this such a wonderful sport to participate in.

So to all the Mission Oak, Tulare Union and Tulare Western distance runners, well done. Well done my young friends. May you find as many years of joy in running as I have and from all of us that have gone before you, we are very proud of you! Long may you run and swift be your strides.

Inspiration

I got a great message from my former high school teammate Shannon a few days ago about how I inspired her to sign up and run in this year's World Masters Championships. I have to say, it was one of the coolest things that has happened since I started writing this blog and have ventured into the world of masters running. The funny thing is, the very people who have mentioned my running as being inspirational are the ones who are inspiring me each and every day I am out there cruising along putting one foot in front of the other. And I cannot think of anyone more inspirational than my former, soon to be teammate again, Shannon.

In high school, we were both the two best cross country and distance runners on our team. We both went on to be NCAA Division II All American distance runners in track, we both had set backs in college but bounced back with a vengeance, and we both are now teachers. And, we still love that same crazy sport we took up so many years ago. But, best of all, when you run with Shannon it is sure to be a great time of good stories and laughs. The girl knows how to have a good time while pounding the miles.

I think what makes Shannon so inspirational, is that she never focuses on what she has done, but what you are doing. Running, as communal of sport that it is, is also a very selfish sport, and most runners tend to only talk about themselves. Shannon, even way, way, way back in high school was always talking to you about what you were going to do and offering up kind words of encouragement. In fact, I really do wish I had a dollar for every time I have heard her say, "You can do it!" Even while warming up on the grass inside the track, if you were racing, she was cheering you on while doing her strides or stretching.

So Shannon, I just want to say thank you for your kind words and to let you know, in the 30 years that I have been a runner, you are the most inspirational runner I have ever met and I am proud and honored to have been your team mate. You are one of the kindest, warm-hearted individuals that I know. Thank you for the years of encouragement, cheers and laughter. Your husband and kids are very blessed to have you and so are all of us who make up your running family. I look forward to cheering you on as we take on the world in July!

As always, stay healthy, and keep running. Oh yeah, don't forget to thank those truly inspirational people in your life!

Silver Lining

Okays so I am out of commission for the next two weeks to let this blasted heel bone bruise heal up. No running, just a ton of ice, ibuprofen, and stretching. Core work, weights and the bike will be my friend. I'm not a big fan of cross training, so I will consider it a necessary evil to toe the line in July. So be it. It is what happens when old gray stallion thinks he is still a young bronking buck.

The silver lining in all of this is today my Team USA singlet and shorts arrived! I may not be that fast anymore, but I will at least look the part. I have to say, I was pretty jazzed to rip into the ups package to try on those navy blue shorts and top. I even slipped on my racing flats as I stared in the mirror. Yeah, I know, vanity is never pretty on an old washed up runner! But hey, you know you would too. So off to ice my heel and dream of two weeks from now when I will lace up again and join you out for a run.

As always, stay healthy, and keep running!

Wounded

Today, instead of lacing up to head out the door, I just finished typing up sub plans so that I can see my podiatrist in a couple of hours. With the World Masters Championships firmly inked on my calendar and my entry paid in full, this is one bucket list item I don't want to miss out on this summer. But I have come up lame in my right foot. So rather than take my chances on my own diagnosis and treatment, I am heading straight to see ol sawbones.

I had an awesome week of training last week. Many miles trodden on soft earthen trails and my feet and legs were in heaven. In fact, Saturday's run felt so good, that I stopped by my old high school track at the end of my run for some drills on the grass. Then disaster struck.

With the warmth of the sun on my back, the soft bed of green grass underfoot, I decided to take off my shoes and do my drills barefoot. With all the hoobabaloo about barefoot and minimalist running these days, I thought a few light drills would be good for the little piggies. My feet ooozed down between the lush green earth carpet as the warm, wet sod blanketed my toes. I felt like a four year old escaping his mommy and bath-time running naked around the yard. However, I forgot I was not a four year old, but a forty-four year old kid who has to wear protective orthotics now in order to keep his crusty white boney toes in-line.

As I finished the drills, laced up and headed for home, I noticed that my right foot felt a little tight. Then later that night, my right heel felt as if someone was taking an ice-pick trying to carve a stinking Swan out it. Ouch! Damn! Plantar Fasciitis! So now it is off to see the podiatrist. At least he knows that I am a runner and that I don't care if I ever walk normal again, I only want to be able to run and right now, I can't. This sucks!

So out the door I go to see the doc and I hope I will see you out on the road, track and trails very soon. Stay healthy and run some miles for your wounded fallen brother.

Still Burning

Man, I have forgotten how the competitive fires can come roaring up, especially when they have laid dormant for so many years. As I was reading through the list of competitors for the upcoming World Masters Champs, I began to recognize names and the desire to run faster and faster and faster kept surging through my being. It was electrifying to say the least. And a little frightening. It has been a long time since I have wanted to run in a race and beat certain people. Welcome back old friend. It has been too long. It has been too, too long indeed.

I have a lengthy 12-13 weeks of training ahead of me and several more pounds to shed, plus two creaky legs that need to stay well oiled and taken care of. The goal is to line up for that first race in good health, as well as the best possible shape I can be in. But, in all honesty, I want to run faster than certain people. I know it sounds petty and childish, but this is racing. This is competition. I like all those guys and will enjoy a few laughs and some cold dark brews afterwards when we are done duking it out on the track. And, I know that they want to beat me too. This is where the fun begins. I want to beat them, they want to beat me and we want to beat anyone that is not wearing the good ol' USA across their chest. We will push our 40 something year old bodies like we are young college bucks, throwing caution to the wind and feel the thrill of being an athlete. The thrill of being a runner. The ecstasy that comes from knowing that for 12 1/2 laps you gave everything you had and left your blood, sweat and tears on that rubber surface with no regrets. Man, I can hardly wait. The fire is still burning!

So out the door I go. Each lap, telephone pole, marker along the path, will represent someone I want to beat. Each day will bring a fresh new vision of passing someone on the homestretch, the white haze that comes over you as you reach deep down in your gut for the final 100 meter kick, reaching for the finish to look over your shoulder to see that you we able to hold off your worthy adversary. Damn, this feels good. This is why I love being a runner. The primal urge to survive. To kill or be killed. The fire still raging inside.

As always, stay healthy, keep running, and I will be dreaming of passing you on the homestretch and then drinking a few cold brews with you as we celebrate another great race!

Spring Has Sprung

Ahhh, the sun is shining, the birdies are chirping, flowers blooming and my stinking nose is running like a leaky faucet in the middle of the night. Ugggh. I love the sun induced sweat that drenches my t-shirt as I gallop along the canals but my poor eyes and nose are having a hard time adjusting to all the pollen in the air. Every other stride I am blowing snot rockets or just simply wiping and flinging clear liquid trying not to hit any innocent bystanders as I scuttle by. Fortunately, my allergy season tends to be a short 2-3 weeks of misery and I am good until harvest season in the fall, when the whole dang process starts anew.

The only thing worst is when I get a sneezing fit in the middle of a run! Holy, stinking cow! Nothing like feeling your insides rip apart and to make a mass exodus through your nostrils. To make matters worse, it always hits mid stride while I am air borne, jerking my body wildly, and I'm praying I don't piss my shorts in the midst of the convulsion. Thankfully, with the warm weather, I sweat like a pig, not that I have witnessed a live swine defy nature and actually sweat, but I am drenched from head to toe, therefore camouflaging any other bodily fluids that have escaped any other body crevices. Oh, the humility of it all.

Yes, spring has sprung and for the next few weeks my body will soak up the sun while my running gear soaks up the body fluids, as well as the terrain I will traverse. It won't be pretty, but it must be done, for such is the life of the allergy suffering runner. So as I reach for the kleenex and lace up the Nike's to head out the door, remember, stay healthy, keep running, and if you see me running towards you, you might want to stay out of rocket range!

Coffee, Doughnuts and Long Runs

I'm up before the rooster to get ready for a long run this morning. Now I know for those hard core marathon and ultra marathon types, my little 12 miles does not constitute as a long run in your books, but for a track guy like myself, anything over 10 miles is an odyssey. According to my students, anything over 400 meters is a cross continental trek! So I guess it just depends on perspective. But one thing is for certain, whether it is 10, 12, 15 or 20, anything over an hour, the old body reacts differently than it does to a quick 6 or 7 mile run. For me that means my digestive tract kicks into hyper-overdrive and wants to purge itself of any unused animal carcass left floating around in the intestines. If I was going to run in some secluded area with plenty of bush to duck into, no problem, but this morning's run will be mostly in town and people tend to frown upon public dumping of toxic waste materials, so it is imperative that I dispose properly of any discarded rectal refuse before hand. Plus, I would like to finish the run with both socks.

Hence, the coffee. What a wonderful miracle drug those Turkish goat herders discovered all those centuries ago. Not only does it perk you up and give you that burst of energy to kick start the day, it has this incredible liquid drano affect on my internal piping that allows everything to flow smoothly, allowing me to step confidently out into the world with a light bounce in my stride as I greet the sunrise! In other words, thank goodness I don't have to worry about squeezing while looking for a discreet place to drop a load. Ahhh, the joys of being a runner.

Some mornings though, the French Roast needs a little helping hand. As a carnivore, yes I am a proud consumer of animal flesh, especially when grilled over an open flame, I need a little extra, extra boost to get the system firing on all eight, so I have to make a little jaunt down the block to the local Donut Factory. Nothing like a little fried flour, eggs and yeast to grease the pipes and sugar to flick the switch to the afterburners. Thus, this morning's blog, with Spring Break in full force, the BBQ has been roaring and well, lets just say, I have probably consumed at least three small pets and a water buffalo worth of red meat and I need to clear the system before the morning task of hitting the pavement. So I am off to make my 75 cent pharmaceutical purchase at the Donut Factory in order to make amy sacrificial offering to the porcelain god and then lace up and head out the door. Hopefully, both socks will remain intact.

As always, stay healthy, keep running, and if I see you out on the road this morning, it will be with a light bounce thinking of the post run doughnut and coffee that will be just for the plain old fun of consuming something delicious.

Dream Deferred

Like many of us, when I was a kid I dreamed of wearing the good ol' USA across my chest in the Olympics or World Championships. I still vividly recall the first time I even saw a race on television when I was nine watching the Montreal Summer Games as Frank Shorter duke it out in the rain with Waldemar Cierpinski of the now defunct East Germany. Mesmerized by what I thought was one of the most amazing things ever, grown men, running around in shorts in the rain, sharing water bottles, yet, wanting to beat the other one to the finish over a 26 mile course. Two years later in 1978 I watched Boston Billy Rodgers win his second Boston Marathon edging Jeff Wells in an epic battle and then the great Duel in the Sun of 1982 as Alberto Salazar and Dick Beardsley pushed each other to their personal limits. More recently, the clash of the running gods Haile Gebrselassie and Paul Tergat in an amazing finish in the Sydney Games 10,000 or Fermin Cacho kicking his way to a Gold Medal in front of an ecstatic home crowd in the '92 Barcelona Games. These are the moments in athletic history that are forever frozen in my gray matter, inspiring me even to this day when I wake up, lace up, and dream as I head out the door. My dream, to wear my country's singlet and race with what the world has to throw out me from all continents.

I have been blessed and fortunate to have earned two Division II All American awards, compete on some really great teams, meet all my running heros and have raced all over our great country allowing me to have experiences that most people only dream of having. But, I never got the opportunity to wear a red, white or blue singlet with the greatest country on the planet pasted across the chest, USA. There is no regrets, because simply put, I was not fast enough to wear that singlet. But now, now I have a chance to finally wear that singlet.

In the middle of July I will represent our country in the World Masters Athletic Championships in Sacramento, running both the 5,000 and 10,000 meters on the track. At 44 I will finally pull on that blue singlet with those 3 letters, U S A, lace up my racing flats and with pride, run against some of the finest over 40 year old athletes in the world. I know it is kind of corny, but I am really excited about this. I have spent most of this past year chiseling my body back into somewhat of the shape of a runner. Once again, I have begun to have dreams of running in peanut butter and not being able to dig down and find that closing gear in the final stretch of a race. I get excited about how a work out is going to send me to the toilet for an hour or more. I am a runner again. Slower, gray around the temples and less hair on top, but that same guy who dreamed big in his younger days has found himself jumping with joy at the challenge that lies ahead. A dream deferred, but a dream that is going to come to pass.

So as I prepare for the World Masters Championships I want to thank all of my former teammates, coaches, running friends and family for being the inspiration that gets these old legs out the door. As always, stay healthy, keep running and don't give up on those big dreams!

For Love of the Run

Today I had one of the best runs I have had in the last three weeks. It was not very fast. I did not run a new route or run in a new location. The weather was not great, it was cold, windy and wet. Nothing spectacular happened. It was a plain old ordinary one hour run. Plain and simple. However, it was me, a great training partner and a whole hour of bliss. No worries. No stress. No coaching issues to deal with. No pressure to perform at work. Just simply putting one foot in front of the other, simply for the love of the run.

I'm not a huge Kevin Costner fan, but you have to admit, the dude makes decent baseball movies; Bull Durham, Field of Dreams, and For Love of the Game. In all three movies, the main characters burned with a passion for the game of baseball. I was in a For Love of the Game mood today as I was out wistfully scampering along the canals of my hometown reminiscing of how far I have come over the past thirty years in this wonderful sport. Even though my best times are two decades in my trail of dust, I believe the best is still yet to come. After all these years, just like Costner's character Billy Chapel flashes through his career in his final big league game, I too watched my time as an athlete play out before me. The big headed red afro wearing fifteen year old winning his first mile race as a freshman to a senior in college closing out a roller coaster collegiate career with an All American certificate to pursuing fast times and bigger dreams that came crashing down around me. But, all in all, I have to say, I have been blessed and I am proud to call myself a runner.

Its a simple sport. Maybe that is what makes it such an incredible experience to be a runner. It doesn't require any real special skill, just a love to be out in the morning or evening breeze, to laugh with friends, to share a cold dark beer or hot steamy cup of java, to push others to new heights in performance, and to feel the great satisfaction of knowing you gave 110%, yet wondering, could I have given it just a little bit more? Mainly, it is about the love of the run.

Stay healthy, keep running, and keep your love of the run strong.