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!

Colorful Characters

One of the things I love most about being a runner is my "colorful" friends! Each week I meet with several great individuals who make the running life that much more, shall I say colorful. Each person has their own unique personality, story, and reason for why they have joined the running life family. From my shaggy haired freshman runner Will who took up the sport to get in shape for soccer to Dan, a special Ed teacher who served in Vietnam when he was not too much older than Will. For many years I preferred the solitary nature of the sport, often logging thousands of miles with just the company of my own thoughts and whatever song nature decided to provide that day. Even though I still love an occasional solitary romp in the early morning, I really look forward to the camaraderie of running with a group. As interesting as I find myself to be, I have to admit, other people are much more entertaining and make the miles fly by. From small talk to jokes to political discourse, running with my running buddies is what gets me out of the bed at 4:00am in order to get in a workout before sun up. By nature, I am an afternoon runner and enjoy the sun baking my shoulders while barking orders to my athletes, but as I have aged, I need to play with kids my own age. Unfortunately, most adults don't get off work at 3:00pm and the duties of adulthood do require the majority to attend to other "adult" responsibilities outside of the work hours. Hence, in order for us to still run around scantily clothed and enjoy the silliness of high spirited hi jinx, we must rise while the rest of the adult world sleeps and slip on our youthful spirits and run wild. It is during these early morning romps that the inhibitions of adulthood are thrown to the wind the colorful personalities break free and the fun begins. As I have spent the last couple of days shackled by my adult responsibilities, I look forward to my run tomorrow morning when I will cut loose with my colorful friends and will run wild in the streets before my work colleagues awake, drink their coffee and wonder why I saunter in with a whistle, smile, and a twinkle in my eye. As always, stay healthy and keep running.

Group Pursuit

It has been a long time coming for American distance running fans and we finally got what we have been hoping for, a medal at 10,000 meters at the Olympics. Galen Rupp delivered a well executed race plan and along with his training partner and Gold medalist, Mo Farah, showed the world what can happen when two or more guys train day in and day out together with a single purpose can do. And, not to mention that their other training partner, Dathan Ritzenheim, finished a respectable 13th only 15 seconds behind them. Who needs that Kenya dry-fit shirt I was bummed out about not getting before they sold out. I'm sporting my USA! It was quite a race. Although my new training partners and I will not be taking any trips to Rio in four years to try our hand at bringing home some serious bling, we do challenge each other to new heights and personal goals every week. When I started back running after my heart attack, I was afraid to run by myself. When the doc says to carry a phone and uses the term "drop dead" you tend to hang on his every word as if spoken from God himself. I hate carrying a phone when I run, but dropping dead did not sound like it would help my 5k time. But I didn't like the thought of just me and my phone at 5:00am on the deserted streets of my little hometown, so I joined the local running club, The Visalia Runners! Now, I have never been a big club runner. I tend to keep a small circle of friends and even smaller circle of people I like to run and race with. It is not that I am anti-social, it is just the opposite. I love being around other runners, but when something is very personal to you, such as your running goals, you tend to want to be around like-minded individuals who are going to support you in your pursuit. My pursuit is not to finish, my pursuit is to be as fast as I can be. My pursuit is to run faster than you. Likewise, I know my inner-circle of running friends want to run faster than me. We are okay with that. It is the nature of a racer. You need me to run fast and I need you to run fast. It is just how it works. Which is why I enjoy my new club. My new training partners challenge me each time I run with them. Maybe not always to run fast, but to run smart. We work together to make each other better by sharing our racing experiences, what we have read, who we have talked to, and our own take on the sport. There is a mutual respect for each other's running gifts and experiences. Somehow rising before the rooster, lacing up and hammering out an 8 mile fartlek before the sun peaks over the mountains just makes sense with these guys and gals. A saturday without a long run of 12 miles, coffee and a refill before starting the weekend chores just throws everything out of sync. What is Friday without the casual banter of the wily veterans sharing tales of miles gone bye? Laughs, good stories, and fast times, along with coffee, make this one fun group of runners to hang around. Each brings their own pursuit of excellence and that is what really makes this club special. Excellence is defined not by the clock, but by what drives you to rise out of bed, lace up, and put one Nike in front of the other. For some, it is running their first marathon. For others, it is qualifying for Boston. And for some, like me, it is about clicking off a few seconds from your last race. But, we are all pursuing excellence. So to my new training partners, especially Mike, Yvonne, Maria, Albert and Michelle, thanks for keeping me company and helping me in my quest of fast times! You have all made me a better runner and I hope I have returned the favor. And who knows, maybe we will have our own Mo/Galen moment someday... As always, stay healthy, keep running and get out there and find a great group of runners to share the pursuit with!

Last of the Cossacks!

This year so far has been one of the best running years I have had in a long, long time and definitely the best since becoming a masters runner. The funny thing is that it comes on the heels of having a heart attack and making some major life changes in the wake of that event. It truly goes to show what doesn't kill you really does make you stronger. Now I am not a politically correct person. I personally feel the whole political correctness approach to life is a crock of... Seriously, my students and athletes know that I care for them because I genuinely care, not because I took some stupid 3 Steps to Caring Communication Seminar. I am sensitive to others because I was taught right from wrong by my parents, teachers, and coaches who didn't give a rip about my self esteem or feelings but rather or not I was a good person who made good choices. They didn't care if I was offended. If a made a poor choice, it wasn't because I was misunderstood, it was rather I misunderstood and paid the consequences for my decision. So what does my rant against political correctness have to do with running? Glad you asked. The highlight of the year so far was my second race of the year back in February when I traveled up to Santa Rosa, Ca to run in a little race called the Valley Ford Relays. It is important to note that the Valley Ford Relays is a Sonoma County running classic. Teams of four run a back and forth relay in a little town, Valley Ford, for the glory of bragging rights. Pure and simple, race hard, enjoy a beer afterwards, and swap tall tales. It really doesn't get any better. No awards. No medals. No self esteem building finisher medal. No fancy high tech microfiber participant shirt. It is not an overpriced politically correct fundraiser for some obscure cause. Just runners racing hard, laughing hard, and enjoying the beautiful spring morning in one of the most picturesque places in California. For this year's event, I could think of no better way to celebrate not only my birthday, but my second chance at life than running with my college teammates Phil, Stu, and our coach, Aldge. I have to give credit where credit is due, it was Stu who came up with our team name Last of the Cossacks. When we ran at Sonoma State back in the 80's and 90's our school mascot was the Cossacks. What a great mascot! Everywhere we ran we were always asked, "What is a cossack?" We loved it. "A cossack is a Russian horseman who was known for his ferocious military skills, which included burning villages, pillaging, and leaving a wake of destruction. Kind of like what we are going to do to you today when we race!" But times being what they are, a few years ago our school mascot was changed to the Seawolves. Now, being an English teacher, I appreciate the Jack London reference, but come on! Really! Is that an intimidating mascot? Not when it is compared to a Cossack! Cossacks evoke fear. Seawolves evoke...what is a seawolf? It is not as fun to explain. Curse you political correctness. Racing is not a politically correct endeavor. It is a raw, animalistic instinct that requires you to be ruthless. The objective is to finish first. If you don't finish first, your objective is to finish as high up the ladder as possible. No question, second is better than third. Seventh is better than tenth. Outkicking someone is more fun than being outkicked. And here is the beautiful part...no one takes it personally! When you race, everyone understands the rules and the agenda. I am not going to let you beat me because your feelings might get hurt. I don't care if it crushes your self-esteem. Get over yourself and get out there and train. If you beat me, good for you! You earned it. Now, lets share a beer together. When we race, we are warriors and warriors do not live by a code of political correctness. Warriors live by a code of honor that values effort, personal integrity, and a resolve to see things through to the finish. There is a mutual respect that is earned through effort. It is real. Our Last of the Cossacks team finished 1st in the over 40 category and either 4th or 5th overall that February Saturday morning. We were far removed from our prime racing times, but we raced hard. We were Cossacks. When we toe the line again next February, we will once again remind Sonoma County that SSU is the home of the Cossacks, not the Seawolves, throw political correctness to the wind, and leave a wake of destruction on the race course! We are the Last of the Cossacks!

Athlete's Heart

I was given the best compliment yesterday that my cardiologist could ever give me when we were discussing my recovery and course of action for the next couple of months when he mentioned that I have an athlete's heart. Although he was referring to my cardiovascular system, it is so much more than my heart, arteries, veins and lungs working in unison to provide my muscles oxygen rich life giving blood, it is the very core and essence of who I am as a person, an athlete. My whole life has been about the body in motion. From little league first baseman to riding the bench as a varsity basketball player to an All American collegiate runner to a graying master who still loves to lace up feather-weight neon shoes, I have always been an athlete. There is something about being in motion out on a trail, the early morning road, or circling a mando surface that brings an electrifying satisfaction to my being. No doubt about it, I love to run... But my athlete's heart is not that fist sized lump of muscle in the center of my chest. My athlete's heart is my passion for what I do. The excitement I feel when I lace up my neon green Nikes as I step on Hayward Field to run a mile, that is my athlete's heart. The pride I feel when my daughter, without any prodding, wakes up, laces up, and heads out the door because she wants to hit her required time to make the traveling squad for her college cross country team, that is my athlete's heart. Waking up at 3:30am to get to a work-out early to warm up a little extra with my Visalia Runners teammates on a Thursday morning, just so I can drink a little extra coffee and enjoy great conversation, that is my athlete's heart. Jumping up and down and giving high fives to my high school athletes for hitting a new personal record on a course or event, that is my athlete's heart. Giving an "atta girl" when my high school classmate Kelly buys her first pair of running shoes and discovers the joy of being an athlete, that is my athlete's heart. An athlete's heart is that part of you that digs deep and hangs on when every muscle fiber screams to give in and quit. An athlete's heart is that part of you that drives you to victory and refocuses you when you lose. An athlete's heart is that part that pumps with excitement and joy when you run a personal record and breaks when you fail. An athlete's heart is that part of you that defies logic and reason and brings you ecstasy when you splash through mud puddles at 5:00am on a Saturday morning rather than sleeping in. An athlete's heart is that part of you at 45 that would rather be old and slow than not moving at all...because to not run at all is to die. So thanks Doc for understanding who I am as a person, an athlete and thanks for knowing that I don't want to survive, I want to live...I want to be a runner. As always, stay healthy, keep running and live out your passion from the heart.

Blessed

It has been eight months since my heart attack and seven months since I had my two stents implanted in two arteries. Even though I passed my yearly physical with flying colors, had two follow up stress tests that have gone well, there are days that I feel depressed, lonely, and filled with unsettling questions. Am I going to see all three of my children graduate high school, college, or walk my two daughters down the aisle, and grow old with my wife? On a daily basis, what is that twinge in my left arm? Why am I more tired today than yesterday? Is today the day I fall down in a heap and will exist in this life no more? These questions hang heavy on my mind... Fortunately, I have my daily run. Each day I run I am reminded of who I am and what I was created to be, a man in motion. When I run I am free to question God and not be disturbed to hear his gentle quiet voice calm my anxiety. When I run I feel the pleasure of the simple joy of my body moving with all systems of my cardio-vascular network flowing with life. When I run my mind is free to focus on all the beautiful blessings that I have been given in my life through my wife, children, family and friends. When I run I celebrate the life I am living in the moment of the present as the past and future are non-entities since it is only the now that matters when one is in motion. Depression, anxiety and worries melt in the sweat that drips from my body and I am reminded that the best thing in life is simply giving the best that you have for that day. When I run, I am blessed. I don't really know what the future holds for me. My last stress test showed no decrease in blood flow, but a mild weakness. What this means, I don't know and will not have a clue until I meet with my cardiologist next week, but I do know this...when I lace up to go run I will be free to be who I am. My heart will pump harder and faster. My head will clear. I will hear God's voice. I will focus on what is good in my life. And when I finish my run I will be filled with a feeling that all is going to be ok in life because I have lived a blessed running life. As always, stay healthy, keep running, and I hope you have a blessed day too!

Second Wind

On Monday morning, November 7 at approximately 9:00 am I received the news that has since changed the course of how I will live the rest of my days on earth, I was having a heart attack. With a deep family history, on both sides, of coronary artery disease I knew the day would come, I just did not expect it to arrive at the age of 44. Fortunately, I am well aware of my family history and having spent the last 30 years in this wonderful, crazy life known as being a runner, I got to the emergency room quickly and my heart suffered no damage. As scary as the situation was, I still swelled up with pride as the various nurses and technicians asked, "Are you a runner?" I love it, even facing an uncertain future, possibly death, I smiled as others recognized my body and spirit has been chiseled from thousands upon thousands of miles out on the roads, trails and track.

On December 2 I had two stents placed in my two 80% blocked coronary arteries and have begun the long process of becoming a runner again. On Christmas morning I gave myself the best gift I could receive and jogged 2 miles. It was the sweetest two mile jog I have ever ran. As the crisp December morning filled my lungs, my legs ached from too much time laying around watching the boob tube and my mind raced, acutely aware of every beat of my heart wondering if this is too soon to try and run? As I circled the track, my anxiety melted away as that old familiar sense of pleasure of being in motion engulfed my body and I let my mind drift off into the past, remembering all of you have made this such an incredible journey so far and I simply ran.

There is an old term in distance running called second wind. This term is used to describe that feeling that a runner gets after suffering through a tough run where they feel that they can no longer keep going and are about to throw in the towel and all of a sudden catch a burst of energy and their strength is renewed. Personally, I always thought this was a bunch of hogwash. A properly trained runner knows he is going to hit some rough patches in training or a race and that you just have to suck it up and keep going. Sometimes you are going to get through it and feel fine and other times, well, you are just going to feel like crap, that's running and racing. The question is, how are you going to handle it? Are you going to suck it up? There is no second wind, just mental toughness and the willingness to keep running.

My heart attack is just a rough patch that I am facing, so the question is, am I going to throw in the towel and step off the track or suck it up? Well, I have thrown in the towel before and there is no feeling worse than stepping off the track and watching the other runners keep going by...so I only see one option, suck it up. I'm a runner. This means that I have to do things that sometimes are not very fun or that I don't want to, but in order for me to improve as an athlete, are vital to my success. For me, running is not enough to maintain a healthy heart. I have to give up some of my favorite foods: bacon, butter, ice cream, large greasy burgers and gallons of coffee at a time. Not only do I have to restrict my diet, but I also have to take a plethora of medications that are going to affect my ability to run fast. I now have to run with a heart rate monitor to gauge my level of exertion and carry a cell phone. This of course is God's sense of humor at work, since I used to make fun of people running with all their gadgets and now I have no choice but to run with them. But, I am going to suck it up and run. In a few minutes I am going to lace up my new Brooks running shoes, strap on my heart rate monitor, slip on my nifty little cell phone arm band, take a long deep breath of January fog laced air, smile, a deep satisfying smile, thank God that I am still here and get to do what few people get to do, enjoy that one passion that I have pursued for the past 30 years...I am going to run!

As always, stay healthy, keep running and most of all, enjoy each and every step of today's run.

The Day After...

Growing up in the 80's our U.S. History teacher made us watch this horrible film about Nuclear War called the Day After. Freaking gave me nightmares for months. Seriously, who wanted to be left in a world of Nuclear Winter, people with hideous sores from radiation, with all of us just waiting for Mad Maxx to show up! Man, there were so many post-apocalyptic movies that we were all sure Gorbachev was going to drop the big one any moment. But now that I am older, I no longer squeamish from having nightmares of body parts falling off due to radiation poison, but the day after still lingers.

Now the day after refers to that dreaded day after I have done something I was not quite ready to do, like run a fartlek with crazy, hormonal teenage boys who have to run around in the shower just to get wet. Man, the old fat man was keeping up just fine during the work-out, but holy stinking cow! I must have awakened at least half dozen time last night with my calves, feet and for crying out loud, my toes! My toes were cramping up! How in the world does one get a cramp in the big toe? Then when I got out of bed I practically needed a walker to get to the bathroom. This is not good.

All day I hobbled around with a sore groin. Men should not strain their groin. It takes the swagger out of your step. Even when I tried to pull it off as doing my best John Wayne imitation, I looked more like a whooped dog with his tail tucked so far up, he stumbles just to stay upright. At least my voice didn't go up three octaves or else I would have had a lot of explaining to do. But thank goodness the afternoon came and I was able to gingerly stretch out the old white limbs and loosen up with a few miles. So here is hoping the day after, will be a better day than today. Frankly, I think I would have preferred the post-apocalyptic sores and mutants.

As always, stay healthy, keep running...but run with people your own age!

Day 1 of 146

Tonight's blog is going to be short and sweet, but today was officially day 1 of my training of 146 more days to follow until the Napa Marathon on March 4, 2012. Yup, the old boy is going to do it! It is time to saddle up, lace up and put in some serious mileage to conquer the rolling hills of Calistoga and Napa to qualify for the Boston Marathon in 2013.

Today's work-out was a basic fartlek I like to call the Big Mac. Although, I tweaked it a little by taking off some of the secret sauce, pickle and onions, and ran three minutes hard at 90% with a two minutes rest, then three times one minute with a one minute rest, another three minutes hard, two minute rest, another three times a minute, with, that's right, you guessed it, one minute rest followed with a final three minutes hard. With warm up and cool down it came to seven miles. A good solid effort with my high school boys team. Tomorrow will hopefully be a set of double fives and then an easy seven on Wednesday.

Well the old bones are tired and five o'clock comes pretty darn early, so it is off to dream of fast times. As always, stay healthy and keep running.

Here I Go Again!

No, I am not conjuring up my best David Coverdale, although, if my wife did want to do a sexy little dance on the hood of our car I could go with that! But Whitesnake aside, it is hard to believe that the last time I posted was back in May. It has been a wild roller-coaster of a ride over the past few months. A strained neck, a huge skin cancer removed from my forehead, new orthotics to deal with my nagging plantar fasciitis, and a very slow, slow, slow 5k in which I finally wore the ol' red, white and blue in a last place finish at the World Masters Championships. But the good news, I'm healthy again and running.

Which leads to why I am blogging again, it is time to start getting after some of those running bucket list goals I set last year. Even though it was ugly, I still crossed one off this past summer with wearing that uber cool Nike USA uni going round and round with twenty-something other guys from all over the world on a hot July night at Sacramento City College. With that one scratched off the list, the next item will be getting a Boston Marathon qualifying time. Which means, I am now training to run the Napa Marathon in March. So stay tuned for I am about to venture back into that blister on the big toe, chub rub, and nipple chaffing world of marathon running...why? Because, as sick as it sounds, this is fun!
(To Be Continued...)

Nachos, Cheers and Lucky Beer

So today at work I heard someone say something about Lucky beer and I nearly laughed out loud! Man, now that took me back twenty something years to the long nights my first college roommate and teammate Phil spent eating nachos, watching Cheers and enjoying a few cheap Lucky beers when we more than likely should have been studying or at least getting some sleep before the next day's work-out. I love talking about the glory days of my little DII cross country and track program at SSU and how well we done, but truth be told, there was a period of time when I first got there, well, lets just say, running was not priority number one.

This not to say we didn't want to improve and run fast, it was just that we wanted to have a little more fun than should be legal. What a cast of characters we were. My college teammates were this rag-tag group of college running rejects and misfits, but we had a passion for life and made the most out of every minute that we could. Hell, even our coach was a character who was always fast with a joke or prank. No wonder I miss those days. I think I laughed more in that first year than I have in the last twenty. From hog-tying a freshmen teammate to hitchhiking in Ashland, Oregon to calling up Pat Porter after one too many to wish him good luck to eating $2 burritos to dashing out of bushes with no socks to being lost on a 20 mile run in Tahoe to jelly donuts after a Sunday long run, those are the memories that flood my mind each every time I lace up and crank out a few miles.

So as I sit here and go back in time, here's to you, all my SSU teammates and thank God we have moved beyond Lucky beer! Although, I think I will heat up some nachos in the microwave and tune into Cheers on the cable and laugh a little.

Back to Square One

Well, it's back to square one. That seems to be the story of my post 40 adventures in running, however, it is Sunday, it is sunny, and I get to run. Slow and easy and feeling like a newbie. But hey, the foot is a little tender, but other than that, it felt good. I am definitely finding that the older I get, the more and more I appreciate those days that I get to feel the sun on my back and the coolness of a sweat soaked t-shirt clinging to my torso. Even a little chub rub is not that bad at this point.

So since I am coming off of a plantar fasciitis injury, I thought today I would share a link to arguably the best over 40 distance runner in America, Pete Magill's article in Running Times on stretching and injury prevention exercises that all of us should be implementing in our daily training. Enjoy the reading and as always, stay healthy and keep running. Running Times Magazine: Magill on Masters: Mastering Common Injuries
runningtimes.com

Still Love It

Tomorrow is going to be an exciting day; I get to run again! Two weeks turned into three and a bad bone bruise morphed to plantar fasciitis and all my plans to work on core and cross train went flying out the window. Bottom line, I hate the bike. There is just some places a man should not have calluses! (Sorry to all my friends who ride, it just is not my thing.) So that means tonight will be a restless night. To make matters worse, I even bought a new pair of Nike Lunar trainers to celebrate and I can't wait to try those bad boys out on the trail.

Now comes the hard part. The next two weeks I need to reel myself in and limit my running to just a few miles each day. With the Masters World Masters just eight weeks away, as much as I wanted to go into the meet in the best shape of my post 40 self, it just is not going to happen. Six weeks is just to short of a time to round into great shape. However, it is plenty of time to drop a few pounds, put in some really great runs, a few track work-outs and get excited to venture onto the track for the first time since 1993.

Last weekend I watched "The Rookie" with my kids and when the part in the movie when Jimmy Morris' wife asked him if he still loved playing baseball, I literally teared up. My oldest daughter looking at me like I was from some distant planet, blurts out, "are you crying?!" Allergies. Bottom line, I still love this crazy sport. It doesn't matter if I finish dead last and get lapped multiple times, I am going to still love every minute of sweating out lap, after glorious lap in the mid-July Sacramento night heat. I may not get to play baseball, but I do get to run. So tomorrow morning when I wake up and step out the back door, I am going to smile, thank God, and know, once again, I get to do what I love to do. I may have been knocked down with this injury, but not out.

So it is off to get some rest and dream of pulling on that blue USA singlet, lacing up those Nike racing flats and being grateful that after 30 years of running, I still get to be that same 14 year old kid for a few minutes who dreamed big and ran for the pure fun of it. As always, stay healthy and keep running.

Cortisone

Well, I went to the podiatrist today for my follow up visit from two weeks ago and he was a little concerned that I was still feeling pain, even though I have not ran a step since I saw him. "Sounds like we should take an X-ray!" So, down the hall I went to do a little foot modeling. Lo and behold, my little right foot put on a show. Not one, not two, but three little jagged bone spurs now make my heel bone sparkle and a hot inflamed plantar fascia stole the show. At least there was no little cracks in the heel bone.

Of course the first question out of my mouth was, "How soon can I run?" In which the doc responded with, "Do you want the needle?" No hesitation.

Now, I have had several cortisone shots before and I am well acquainted with that hot, burning liquid oozing into your every fiber of enlarged nerve endings, but today was one new adventure I was not prepared for! As the nurse unsheathed the blade of flaming juice to penetrate my flesh and bone, I gasped at how long the instrument of torture was. Then when the doc prodded my unsuspecting muscular structure, I could have swore I was going to both crap and piss blazing fluids. Holy sweet mother of all that is good, that stinking hurts! My nostrils flared. My sphincter tightened. My tongue swelled. Sweat formed on my brow as my life flashed before me. Grunting and moaning, hoping nothing came out as a wildebeest in heat, I clenched the armrests of the medical chair, hanging on to a thread of pride in order to not cry. With every plunge of the needle, I prayed that I would not need any toilet paper as I writhed in place. Nothing like a grownn man straining to keep his entrails and their contents in their proper place. Finally, after what seemed an infinite course in the demonstration of ancient torture techniques, the slithering metal snake slipped from my heel and I could once more breath.

So here is hoping that by the end of the week I will be able to run a few miles each day for a week or two and be back to full training soon. So, I raise up a toast to you old magical friend to athletes, cortisone, and here is hoping that your potion of healing will do its trick. This old man is itching to get back out there on the trails, canals and soft surfaces.

As always, stay healthy, keep running, and here is hoping that you will never have to experience the cortisone blues.

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!