Larry's Running Blog

Mixed Up

2010-06-06T21:46:00.001-07:00

This afternoon I'm watching "Marmaduke" Maylee and Mandy. I cherish the chance to go to the theater with Maylee, who loves the whole movie and popcorn experience, but this is a typical kid movie. It has two dog fart jokes and acting that would shame most community theater companies. Being a little disinterested, I hit the indiglo button on my watch to check the time. The watch doesn't work, however, as it's clogged with mud from this morning's Muddy Buddy race in San Jose.

I picked up my teammate Melissa Bloom and her partner Marc Ellyn at 4:30 AM this morning. Melissa is a triathlete whom I befriended at the gym while recuperating from my running injuries on a stationary bike last year. She's the perfect teammate--in great shape, competitive and meticulous.

We are told to arrive very early at the race. We did as instructed, unlike the other competitors. After a long ride up a curvy road we enter the park, where we are told to drive into a cow pasture. There are no cows, but we have a sizable drive to the far corner of the bumpy field. I'm glad my Honda CRV has a little bit of clearance. This is the most off-roading I've done in this car since we bought it nine years ago.

Melissa and I sign some waivers, get our bibs, and decorate our bike to distinguish it from the hundreds that will share the course. She takes the bike to the start of the race to set the gears for the initial big climb. While there Marc Ellyn and I meet Ralph Gowan, whom I knew would be competing with Dave Luczynski from the Forward Motion race team. Melissa joins us after calibrating the bike. We're primed for a high performance race, but Ralph deflates my tires by saying the race is not competitive. I look around and see people in costumes while Melissa and I look like we're doing the Tour de France. I want to win, but I don't want this to be a joke.

At the start the announcer asks how many participants have done this before, and hardly any hands go up. This seems to be a one-time dalliance. The race is about 6.5 miles long, broken into five sections. Each participant runs and bikes, switching each leg. I'm the better runner, so I'll run the first, third and fifth leg, and Melissa is the stronger rider, so she'll ride when I run and then run the second and fourth legs.

Melissa goes to the very front with the rest of the bikers, while I stand behind with the runners. Not far from me is a woman wearing a lime green net outfit over black workout clothes. Ms. Lime Green Net looks ready to party. The bikes take off and a bit later the runners follow. Soon the runners start overtaking the riders. I'm in second place among the runners, and the bikes are having a tough time with the steep climb on the trail. A lot of riders are on foot, slowed down as they push their bikes up the hill. We pass Melissa, who's made a lot of progress, but I feel bad that she's walking. This isn't the kind of race she was expecting. Eventually the course levels off and the riders catch up with us. Melissa blows by me and I look forward to getting on the bike.

At each transition point we have to overcome an obstacle. The first one is a climbing wall about eight feet high. This is something that Maylee polishes off at the playground, so I have no problem with it and climb down the other side on a cargo net. Now it's time for me to ride. Melissa has left the bike on the left side of a mass of bikes. I guess you could call it a critical mass. Ralph advised us to determine where to leave the bike before the race to avoid losing time at the exchanges. I'm able to pick out the bike easily and I'm on my way.

Fear quickly overwhelms my excitement. Melissa is the primary rider, so the bike that we share is set for her proportions. We are exactly the same height, but she has longer legs so the seat is higher than I would prefer. We can't reset the seat every exchange, so when I ride I can barely reach the pedals. This isn't going to be easy and I wish I had my feet on something solid, like a pedal or the ground. The trail is bumpy and I have to avoid running over runners on the right while avoiding riders passing me on the left. I pass Melissa, who's now running, and I get to the second exchange area, a balance beam.

After about two and a half miles of running and biking, my legs are unprepared for the delicate movement on a balance beam. I fall off twice as I begin. On the third attempt I go extra slow. Reaching the halfway point, I turn sideways and slide my feet toward the end. I make slow progress, but get near the end and leap off.

I have another problem at this exchange. The race staff tells everyone to put their bikes on the left at this station, which conflicts with our planned bike drop position of always going to the right. I lean the bike against a sign so that it's the only upright bike, hoping that Melissa can find it. Back on the run, I continue to navigate past runners to my right while looking behind me to avoid getting run over by a cyclist. Melissa passes me and yells, "Keep the bike on the right!" Apparently she had a difficult time finding the bike.

The next obstacle is a climb up a cargo net followed by a trip down an inflatable slide. Just as I get off the slide Melissa shows up with the bike, so we have a seamless exchange. Approaching the last obstacle I gain on Ms. Lime Green Net. We crawl under a cargo net, which I discover I'm really good at. If someone ever invents a sport that emphasizes slithering through low spaces, I'd dominate it. Coming out of the net obstacle, I run past Ms. Lime Green Net, who tells me to go for it.

It's hot and I'm looking forward to finishing the race. I expect Melissa to pass me on the bike, but she never appears. I arrive at the last obstacle, the eponymous mud pit. Teams must go through together, so I find Marc Ellyn who's videotaping the event. Marc Ellyn asks me where Melissa is, but all I can say is that I'm surprised she didn't pass me on the last leg. A few minutes pass, and then Melissa shows up, drops off the bike and we go head first on hands and knees into the mud. It's a new experience. The mud feels pretty good but there are pebbles that scrape my knees. The pit has three deep sections that ensure that your entire body will get caked. After three drenchings we emerge brown.

Next stop are the showers, which are really a tangle of hoses. I take off my shoes, which are of no further use, and get a coupon for Columbia gear for donating them. Ralph Gowan yells to me from the road. He and Dave finished five minutes ahead of us, so he's already clean. He's wearing a towel around his waist. A shower cap and long scrub brush would complete the look. Melissa and I get as clean as we can without soap and with our clothes. We spray each other's backs and run the water down our own shorts.

After drying off and changing we head back to the race in search of the results. I ask Melissa if she was okay in the last leg, and she says she lost time looking for the bike. Our time of 50:42 is about eight minutes better than last year's winner in our age group, coed teams combined 96 years and older. Unfortunately, another team finishes two minutes ahead of us.

The event is extremely well organized, but the awards ceremony lasts longer than the race. The winning men are announced first, and the awards go five deep in seven age categories. Each age group gets on the podium for a group shot. The routine--name the team, wait for the team to show up, call the people in the Red Hook beer tent if the team doesn't show up, and take a group photo--repeats 20 times, that's five teams of two people for a total of 200 names--before our age group has its turn. By then pretty much everyone has left.

Melissa and I don't care who's there, we just want our medals. The winners, Kym Sterner and Jack Hollerman, are representing the downtown Oakland YMCA. They're really nice. Kym is Ms. Lime Green Net and Jack gives me a high five. Melissa and I are happy with our result, but we think we could take Ms. Lime Green Net and Jack in a competition that doesn't involve finding a bike lying on the ground. After all, they may be from the YMCA, but we're from the Harbor Bay Club.
Even though it takes longer than I'd like, this is a fun event. I can definitely see myself doing it again. Ralph is right. It's different, but it was challenging. And maybe next time we'll find our bike faster.

Outclassed

2010-06-03T21:31:00.000-07:00

I run the Marin Memorial Day 10K for no other reason than it is an opportunity to run fast. There's no chance for a medal and the course is not scenic. But the flat course attracts dozens of runners from Northern California capable of national-class performances. The race is the so-called 10K championships for the Pacific Association of the US Track and Field Association. My goals are pretty modest: finish in the top 100 and break 37 minutes.

My goal time is ambitious. I've only run 36 and change once before, but I've had some encouraging results at the Across the Bay 12K, Oakland Running Festival Half Marathon, and the Tilden Tough Ten. The first and third races were my second best times on those courses, and the half marathon time was my best since 2008. Last year I ran Marin in 37:17, so I think my goal is attainable.

Debra Cramer drives Suzette Smith and me to the race. They are making their debuts for the Lake Merritt Joggers and Striders (LMJS) race team. LMJS entered a women's team at the Zippy 5K in April, and now is conducting weekly track workouts. LMJS was a race team waiting to be born from among its club membership.

As we go to the registration tables we find what seems to be a multiplying flock of LMJS racers. All women, it seems like everywhere I look someone is wearing red with a duck logo in front. I'm stunned. West Valley can't put together one master's team in four years, and within two months of registration, LMJS has enough for three squads in one race.

I do a quick warmup with Suzette, which causes her to miss the LMJS group photo, and then find a spot amid the herd. As the race starts I dart among dozens of runners, mostly passing them. My first mile is on pace for a 37 minute finish, but I've got to keep running under 6 minute miles.

The weather isn't cooperating, and the second mile is a little slower. There's little cloud cover and the air is warm. I key on Lisbet Sunshine, who's always recognizable from the cheers from the spectators. I pass her on the third mile but can't shake her. My pace slows the rest of the way and I know I'll not break 37 minutes. Lisbet catches me in the sixth mile and finishes in 37:51, first in her division (F45-50). Just ahead of her is Peter Hsia (M49) whom I finished ahead of at the Tilden Tough Ten. My time of 37:55 places me 14th in my age group and initially 97th overall. I'm happy with the placement and figure the heat cost me some time, around 30 seconds according to a blogger for the San Francisco Examiner. But when I get home the official results place me 115, so 18 runners inexplicably passed me after the race.

Another runner I try to pace with is Maggie Visser, whom I finished ahead of in this race last year by a few seconds. Maggie had a great year in 2009, and I only beat her because she had just returned from South Africa. This year she didn't contend with jet lag and finished second in her age group (F40-44) in 37:11.

I'm outclassed here. I didn't manage to meet any of my goals, but the race is not a total loss. I congratulate Lisbet after the race. She's exhausted, but manages to respond. I also reintroduce myself to Maggie, who's more relaxed, having finished ahead of us and being in better shape. Later Peter Hsia introduces himself to me, so I am lucky to have met my three main competitors.

The race shirt is great. It's a technical shirt, light blue with an egret on the front and yellow Adidas stripes on the shoulders, giving it a retro look. This is a big improvement from last year's giveaway, a towel with a design that wasn't waterproof.

I meet up with Suzette and Debra, who joined Karen Andrews in placing fourth in their age group for the LMJS team. These are the three women who will run with me at the Tahoe Relay in two weeks.

Debra multitasks today. In addition to driving and running, she baked a batch of the homemade muffins she brought to the Across the Bay 12K in April. She knows how to make friends.

Expect the Unexpected

2010-05-16T21:52:00.001-07:00

I've run the Tilden Tough Ten seven times, more than any other race. My best and worst races ever were here in 2007 and 2000 respectively. I thought I knew what to expect at TTT, but today the unusual exceeded the norm.

Do You Know the Way to Tilden Park?: Debra Cramer is driving her son Hank and me to the race. I've been to Tilden dozens of times for races, workouts, or to take in the fun amenities and spectacular views with my family. Debra passes the exit I always take, and proceeds past Oakland into the Caldecott Tunnel to Orinda. When I ask her about the missed exit, Debra says this is the way to Tilden Park. Sure enough, the directions from Lake Merritt Joggers and Striders (LMJS) instruct us to go through the tunnel. We enter the park from the other side and get to the staging area on our right. We even get a space in the parking lot, a rare find.
Fog City: I bathed myself in sunblock, anticipating a lot of ultraviolet exposure, especially in the second half of the race. The overcast weather and moist air kept many of us in our warmups and me huddled against Debra's Honda CRV before the race. Too bad the wind rendered the air block of the car useless. It was cold as well, all typical of past years. This year the sun never broke through. Besides dressing for hot weather, I think I was the only person wearing sunglasses.
Surprising Effort: I hadn't raced since the Go! St. Louis half marathon in mid-April, so I didn't expect to run too well. I reached the halfway point in 32 minutes, among the leaders. The hill in the sixth mile is a challenge to climb, and I told myself to wait until I passed by my friends coming the opposite way before walking. I saw Debra, John Pettinichio, Jenny Wong, Kenny Bright, Karen Andrews, Jack Zakarian, Ernie Isaacs, and someone who looked like Ernie Isaacs. After walking up the top of the hill I had enough energy to run fast down the other side.
Nature Calls: Debra lost three minutes in the hillside to pull relieve herself, and still managed to finish third in her age group (F50-59). She was about 90 seconds behind the top runner.
Getting Chicked: The only woman who finished ahead of me was the other Caitlin Smith (F29), one of the best female trail runners in the country. I call her the other Caitlin Smith because Suzette's daughter Caitlin is about the same age and also runs. The other Caitlin chased me down in the ninth mile and finished 25 seconds ahead of me. She said some nice things to me as we went through the finishing chute, and then left the race before picking up her award. For those unfamiliar with running lingo, getting chicked is when a woman passes a man in a race. I have no problem finishing behind a strong runner.
What Time Is It?: I finished in 66:10, my second-best next to 2007's 64:30, a time I have memorized. I'm eighth overall and first in my age group (M40-49). When the awards are distributed I do not receive one, which leads me to ask the winner of my age group his time, which is much slower than mine. I informed Len Goldman, who announced that the results were not accurate, and any awards would be mailed. I gave my name to a guy holding a laptop. When he typed it he said, "You won your age group, and you're going to kill me when I tell you what I did." He never told me what he did, thus saving his life. Glitches like this are unheard of for LMJS, which rounds out my litany of strange happenings.

Fat-Bottomed Girls

2010-04-11T10:54:00.001-07:00

An intimidating woman in a uniform gazes at me and dozens of other runners as we wander through City Hall before the Go! St. Louis marathon and half marathon. We are all looking for bathrooms after dropping off our gear at the sweats check in the central rotunda. I'm sure she'll kick us out of the building for being in a restricted area, just as I'm about to enter the men's room. Instead she tells us that there is another less crowded restroom down the hall.

I feel like John McEnroe in the National Car Rental ads. "I can use any restroom I want!? YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS!" Yes, I can use the restrooms. Indoor plumbing for a race with 13,000 runners. Clean bathrooms in multiple locations. This is pre-race Shangri-La, typical of the friendliness and outstanding organization that keep me flying back to St. Louis for this race.

Outside it's warming up but still comfortably cool. My sister-in-law Kathy Doan can't believe that there is no wait for the porta potties, nor for the sweat check. We have ample time to look for my brother Andy, who has already lined up, but we can't find him in his pace section. Kathy, my mother and I exchange fist bumps, and I head to the front.

This is my third straight year running the half marathon, and Andy's first attempt at running more than 10 miles. Kathy is a 50-stater, and this will mark the 11th state in which she has run a marathon. Next month she'll run the Fargo marathon in North Dakota.

I am barely visible in this photo on the front page of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Fourth from the right is a guy in a white singlet with a wavy line. Almost directly behind him to the left is a blond woman whose face is one-quarter obscured by his head. I am behind her, slightly to the right. One of the lenses of my sunglasses peeks out from her head.

This year's race gives me a little more trouble than last year, even though the weather is far better than in 2009. St. Louis weather is hit or miss in April. Two years ago it was clear and cool, and last year we ran through a rain storm.

This course features more hills than the Oakland half from two weeks ago. I tried to acclimate myself by running hill repeats on Thursday, and going on a comfortable four-miler in my mother's neighborhood yesterday. Mom's home lies on land that was owned by Ulysses S. Grant after the Civil War. The large estate of our 18th president is a landscape of rolling hills. I'm not sure how such terrain supported a farm for so long, although the 30 slaves of the owner before Grant, "Colonel" Frederick Dent, who was Grant's father-in-law, kept the estate profitable. Grant was a staunch abolitionist from Ohio, a free state. Grant's in-laws from slave holding Missouri had a different opinion. Grant's victory in the Civil War won the argument. Touche.

My objective in running around Mom's neighborhood was to practice shifting from one elevation to another, which I hoped would help me today. Around the third mile I question the effectiveness of the training. I get a side stitch here, about six miles earlier than normal. I don't know if it is an abundance of hills, or a lack of training or hydration that is causing my discomfort.

A mile later I catch up with Megan Earney (F30), a former women's marathon winner here. I only know her name because the race has provided ex-champions with bibs on the back that give the runner's name and previous victory. She tells me "Nice job," as I pass her, and I reply, "You too, Megan." She is the only runner I will speak to during the race, and will finish sixth among women.

The side stitch fades and we cross back into downtown. The course has changed from previous years, going north of Market Street before heading east on Olive. In the past we ran east and west on Market. The change is an improvement because now we run right past St. Louis University, my parents' alma mater. A few days ago Mom gave me a tour of the campus. The alternative route is better than two trips on Market Street, and SLU students are an enthusiastic crowd. A lot of students call my name on my bib, and I give as many as possible a thumbs-up.

Side stitches return and by mile 12 I have them on both sides. The symmetric pain forces me to slow down, which is too bad since I don't feel that tired. The resulting time of 1:22:30 is 54 seconds slower than last year's slog through the rain. I place 4th in my age group (M45-49) out of 227 and 35th overall. This is a good result considering that the field is 10,700, up from 8,500 in 2009.

I decide to try a massage even though my experience in Oakland was both pleasant and painful. A woman named Christina (I guess all massage therapists introduce themselves) provides excellent therapy that would keep my legs nice and relaxed for the rest of the day.

I bounce around the grounds and find Mom at our predetermined spot. Retrieving my camera at City Hall, I head out to the sidelines near the finish. Andy is hoping to run the half in 2:10. The clock runs beyond that time and I get a photo of him about 15 minutes later a quarter mile from the end. At the finish Andy says that he struggled after mile 10, which is understandable since he's never gone beyond that distance. He's determined to train more in preparation for next year's race. I'm proud of Andy. He will never run fast, but he is exercising regularly in pre-dawn boot camps and can run a mile in seven minutes. For a guy his size, that's very impressive.

The post-race festivities provide a fitting end to a great morning. St. Louis being a brewery town, beer is distributed with little waiting despite hordes around the stand. Even though the beer is Michelob Ultra, I enjoy myself while listening to the band Vote for Pedro. It's like listening to KSHE 95 half a life ago. Their set includes, "Say It Isn't So," by the Outfield, "I Want You to Want Me," the iconic "Don't Stop Believin'," and the ironic "Fat-Bottomed Girls." This being a road race, there aren't any of them here.
Kathy has a longer day than either of us, finishing her marathon in about five hours. She gets a bigger medal and deserves it. Thanks mainly to her effort, she, Andy and I set a record for the longest distance run by the Witte family on a single day, 52.4 miles.

Heart of Oakland

2010-03-28T20:54:00.001-07:00

I am in in agony, lying face down on a massage table following the Oakland Running Festival half marathon. My masseuse April had everything under control until she bent my legs at the knee after loosening my hamstrings. When she did this, my right calf calcified into a fist of pain. April has done what the course could not: put me in a state of complete submission.

This is a much different condition that I was in a few minutes earlier.

Here's Larry Witte from Alameda. He's 45! Believe me, running keeps you young," said the public address announcer as I crossed the finish line. It was a strong race for me. I finished 13th overall in 1:22:08, my best time in 11 months and my highest age-graded performance since the Long Beach half marathon in October 2008.

The result was not expected since I had a digestive illness early in the week that limited my eating and caused me to drop four pounds in three days. The ailment prevented me from following up the previous Sunday's run at the Emerald 12K Across the Bay until Wednesday, and then rain on Thursday eliminated a training session. I ran less than 25 miles the week leading into today's run.

The course was flat and fast, which worked in my favor. It was also one of the most anticipated races I've ever run. Oakland hadn't hosted a major race in more than two decades. As one who returned to running in Oakland after a 16-year layoff, I wanted to run a race in the East Bay's biggest city. Oakland has a mix of natural beauty and urban grittiness, along with great weather and challenging hills. It's a great place to run, but the running community has always had to travel to Pleasanton, Danville, San Ramon, and other cities including Alameda for races in the East Bay.

The absence of races probably let the San Francisco Chronicle to devote significant coverage to the marathon, even more than it gives to its city's own marathon. Nice features before the race included a mention of Len Goldman, president of the Lake Merritt Joggers and Striders (LMJS).

Back in the massage tent April gets assistance on my calf, which has tightened into a ball the hardness of an orange. After several minutes of therapy, my leg loosens up and I relax my death grip on the cushioned table. I've been lying down there way more than my allotted nine minutes. Having recovered, I proceed to the post-race activities.

To my surprise, Debra Cramer (F52), my carpooling companion for the second race in a row, calls my name as she approaches me. I thought I'd be waiting for her, but Debra ran a very strong 1:40:26, another PR. Debra is the only friend in my age range who is getting faster, and she's knocking off significant time over the months. It's quite amazing. Debra has been running for many years, but only now is she reaching her potential. She's getting close to a score of 80% on the age-graded scale, which is a national-class standard. No one knows how fast Debra can run, and it's fun to watch her progress.

Results haven't been posted and Debra and I decide to use our drink tickets and get a beer.

The race itself was fast, but lacking in scenery. The half marathon course missed the recognizable parts of Oakland. We ran past the Fruitvale neighborhood, but not on its main drag, International Boulevard. The course went no further east than uptown, so we didn't hit Piedmont Avenue. We avoided the heart of Chinatown and ran several blocks away from Jack London Square. The course avoided the busy parts of town to limit disruption of commerce and recreation. The result was a race that did not showcase much of Oakland's charm and provided a visitor with little opportunity to appreciate its unique characteristics.

Nevertheless, there were highlights. An arch with flames broke up the monotony at mile six. This work was a creation of the Crucible, a collaborative community arts and industrial center that features heat-related art like glass making and metalworking. Even though the arch was on fire, it was the coolest mile marker I'd ever seen.

There was no question which singlet I would wear. It was my new LMJS jersey, which has the club's logo on the front and back. The double exposure may be a mistake. It makes me look like a running sandwich board.

The race ended with a loop around Lake Merritt and a final leg back to downtown. Lake Merritt is my Yankee Stadium, Augusta, Wimbledon and Hayward Field. This is where I soaked up the natural setting a brief stretch from the cottage Mandy and I rented in the late 1990s. Lake Merritt inspired me to run many afternoons before I began to race. Here I ram a few LMJS 10Ks and 15Ks, and four Couples Relays. But this is the first time running around the lake in a big race. Anticipating the lap around the lake, I almost lose control of my emotions. This is a big deal for me, but I take couple of deeper breaths--if that is possible on the tenth mile of a half marathon--and return to the present.
There were a few more spectators around the lake than at other sections of the race, many cheering for me based on my LMJS top. I needed every bit of encouragement. At mile 11 I saw Tony Fong (M50), who rant the marathon in a blistering three hours on a hilly course. I could never have run that fast. Tony is definitely in good enough shape for out Tahoe Relay team, and a few days after the race he says he'll run the relay with us in June.

Debra and I continue to wait for our results, passing more time than we spent running the race. We are enjoying the beer and the sun, but the beer is Miller Genuine Draft and we want to return to our real lives. A 20-foot sign spelling RESULTS in vertical letters overshadows a four-sided display that is completely blank at 12:30 p.m., three and a half hours after the race started. This is inexcusable. The race is chip-timed, and generating results requires nothing more than pushing a button on a computer to print the outcome. Apparently no one can do this.

With the information booth being no help at all, Debra and I leave, not knowing whether we won an age-group award. We're a little frustrated and a little miffed that we waited two hours after the race and don't know how we fared.

After getting home, I find out from the race web site that Debra and I both won our age groups, Debra by more than a minute and me by more than three. We're satisfied with the results. Even better, the next day the San Francisco Chronicle published the above photo of Debra and several runners at the start. Debra's famous! Seems like the paper has an eye for talent.

Does This Hill Make Me Look Fat?

2010-03-21T16:16:00.000-07:00

"What's in the cooler?"

"Heart and lungs."

The above exchange between a friend of ours and Mandy is taking place at East Ocean Seafood restaurant in Alameda, where we are meeting this Sunday morning for dim sum. Debra Cramer dropped me off at the restaurant after we raced the Emerald Across the Bay 12K in San Francisco.

The cooler contains bagels and cream cheese for after the race, but Debra made some gourmet muffins with chocolate chips and coconut before we left from her home at 6 AM. The bagels never saw daylight.

I wouldn't mind if the cooler did have replacement parts for my cardiovascular system. It was a difficult but rewarding race. An elite 800-meter runner described the sensation after a race as having every cell in your body on fire. I don't feel that bad, but I am exhausted.

Conditions for the race were perfect. There was no wind, no sun, and no rain—just a soft blanket of cloudy sky. Last year we endured a deluge that dampened my spirits and drained my energy. Today those of us who ran last year were a lot more eager to run from Marin County to San Francisco.

The race features a sharp climb from sea level to the Golden Gate Bridge. Last year the hill turned my legs into jelly. I mentioned this to Suzette Smith in an email a few days before the race. She replied that hills are your friend. I would agree that hills are excellent to train on, but not to race on when you only run in pancake-flat Alameda. I used to love hills when I ran on them in Oakland, but now I consider them a weakness.

I got another email from Tony Fong, urging all West Valley Track Club (WVTC) masters runners to show up at the race. We haven't fielded a masters team since I joined the club in 2007. If we can't get five guys to race at one of the most popular PAUSATF races of the year, it will probably never happen.

I assured Tony that I would run even though I hadn't run on a hill since June of last year, but I could probably run a 6:30 per mile pace. Tony said we'll have 10 masters runners, enough for two teams.

I then asked if he would be able to run on our Tahoe Relay team. He responded that he would join us in June if he could run a 10K in a six-minute per mile pace by the end of April. That's very ambitious and well beyond the ability that we need. I called Tony. He said he was fat.

The potential loss of one of my Tahoe runners made today's race a recruiting trip. I got Karen Andrews to join our team at the Couples Relay, but this morning I didn't see anyone that would fit our lineup. I even saw a lot of WVTC runners, but they all appeared to be under 40 years old.

After warming up, Debra and I squished in amongst several hundred runners. The course features a right turn and steep descent. Running fast on a winding road in a close pack makes for perfect conditions for a pileup, but the stampede of runners managed to navigate the start without an accident. I was dreading the hill, but the climb up it wasn't nearly as bad as I remembered it. I kept waiting for pain to set in, but as we hit the bridge, my legs felt fresh. In 12 minutes I had run two miles.

While crossing the bridge Carlos Castelo (M40) of WVTC, pictured above, passed me. Once past the bridge we hit Crissy Field and the Marina. About five miles into the race Jeff Teeters (M50) said hi as he caught up with me along my left side.

"Heyyyyy Jeff, how's it going?" I asked. Jeff said something inaudible. Trying to think of something positive to say I said, "Just a few more miles, and there's no wind." I was glad Jeff wasn't in the mood for talking, because I sure couldn't keep up a conversation. Jeff has a chicken wing style of running, so I faded to the right to avoid his elbows. I have never finished ahead of Jeff in a race, and today would be no different. After running together for a quarter mile or so Jeff continued past me.

A few more people passed me on the trail to Fort Mason. Among them was Peter Hsia (M49), who hadn't finished ahead of me in a race since 2005. But Peter is having a renaissance. In late 2009 he posted a great time in the Run Wild for a Child 10K, placing in his age group in a very competitive field. I also heard a number of people cheering for Lisbet Sunshine (F46), a popular Impala whose name describes her personality. I managed to hold her off as we climbed and descended the last hill.

As I turned to the right a woman in the crowd yelled, "Go, Larry!" I had no idea who it was, but I would find out the following Sunday that it was Carol Turner, who was skipping the race while recovering from a detached retina. I finished in 46:19, 24 seconds behind Jeff, four seconds behind Peter, and five seconds ahead of Lisbet. I was 12th in my age group and 112th overall.

My pace was much better than I hoped for, 6:13 per mile. The performance was unexpected and my best since the Long Beach Half Marathon in 2008. I beat my predicted time by more than two minutes. It was my second-fastest time on that course in five races.

At the finish I met Chris Knorzer (M41), a West Valley runner on the right who paced all masters runners with a time of 40:22, a 5:25 pace. I was the oldest and slowest of the 14 West Valley runners. That didn't bother me given how I exceeded my expectations. On the other hand, I am disappointed that West Valley only had three masters runners. Chris, Carlos and I would have placed well as a team if we had two more runners. My time was good enough to contribute to the third-place masters team, but West Valley wasn't able to get a quorum. The long non-streak continues into its fourth year.

Super Sub

2010-02-28T19:00:00.001-08:00

A few weeks ago Jane Watson informed me that a hamstring injury would keep her from running the Couples Relay with me. Too bad, I was looking forward to running with her in this rare relay opportunity. Then again maybe I should have expected it. This race is unpredictable, but fun.

In 2006 Diane Dove was injured (we won the race).
In 2007 Diane had the flu (we came in third).
In 2008 I had the flu and had to cancel on Suzette Smith. It also rained like crazy.
Last year Jane was injured, but we place second in our age group in a downpour.

Besides Jane's injury, early in the week I was limited to bed after catching some 24-hour bug. Upon learning of Jane's condition, I called my friend Holly Starr. Holly said she'd run with me, after all she ran six miles recently. Holly is very fit and a good athlete, so I'm happy to be able to run with her.

Holly calls my name as I finish changing our registration at the race. During a warmup run we discuss family and the winter Olympics. Holly can figure skate, and I watched the women's long program on the DVR last night, so we have a good conversation.

Weather is way better than the previous two years, dry with plenty of sun. The women run first, and Holly gets a good position in front. While waiting with the guys I catch up with Jeff Teeters, who's teaming up with Maria Chapon of the Tahoe Redondo team from the Tahoe Relay. I had asked Jeff if he'd be on our East Bay Flyers team, but he says he won't be available.

About 23 minutes after the start Holly tags me in 49th place. She ran a solid time, and I set on gaining on a lot of teams in front of us. As I begin someone yells, "Nice pace, 203!" Thanks to Brian Collett for the photo of me. He skipped the race, but did an excellent job as photog. My lap around Lake Merritt is like a handicapped race. I'm well back of the lead, but there are a ton of slower teams ahead. I pass 23 teams and we finish in 42:03. My split is about 18:30, which is about as fast as I've run this course. Even though it's flat, I get slowed by the numerous turns, narrow sidewalks, and countless pedestrians. I'm really pleased with our performance. A record 174 teams finished the race, and the days when Diane and I could win the whole thing with a time of 38 minutes are long gone. Holly and I managed to finish third in our age group (100-119 combined age), and our time would have won the age group last year. The competition keeps getting tougher, and Jeff and Maria snag first place in our category, the prize for which is a gift certificate to a restaurant or running store. Officially Holly and I are fourth in the age category, but one team ahead of us is two men. It's a coed race, so I don't count them. After the race I lend Mike Rossi the ice pack keeping the cream cheese in my cooler fresh for his leg. I also purchase a Lake Merritt Joggers and Striders singlet, men's small in red, after seeking one of that color for a few years. Finally, I chat up Karen Andrews to see if she can run on our Tahoe Relay team. She says she'll get back to me. It's been a productive morning.

Hit and Run

2010-02-07T21:53:00.001-08:00

The Davis Stampede half marathon may be my favorite of the Superbowl Sunday races. It’s winnable, the long drive to Davis is less of a hassle than parking at Ocean Beach in San Francisco, and Davis is a wonderful college town. Last night Mandy, Maylee and I stayed overnight in Sacramento, about 30 miles to the east. We had a great Thai dinner with Suzette Smith and her son Michael, daughter-in-law Alicia, granddaughter Izzy, daughter Caitlin, and son Tim. Suzette and Tim are the only Smiths from last night who don’t live in the Sacramento area, so she considers it a second home.

This morning Suzette, Caitlin and I drove to Davis from Sacramento together, and will meet our families at the finish line.

We pull into downtown and find parking about four blocks away from the start. We have plenty of time to get our numbers and race shirts, and stow our belongings back in the car. Mandy will later find a parking spot right at the starting line. This is so much better than the Kaiser San Francisco Half Marathon in San Francisco, where once I was blocked in a parking spot for more than an hour after the race and another time sprinted to the starting line due to finding a spot minutes before the race.

My goal is to run a 1:24 half marathon, the slowest I’ve run since coming back from plantar fasciitis in my left foot two years ago. It is a flat course with a lot of turns and dips through bicycle and pedestrian tunnels under roads. The minor ups and downs are not imposing, but they do slow the runners.

I finish in 1:23:51, second in my age group (M45-49) and 21st overall. This was my slowest time since recovering from an injury in 2008, but any significant training adjustment wouldn’t have made any difference. The first place finisher in my age group ran two minutes faster than my PR and the person who finished after me was three minutes behind.

Suzette has an eventful race, with a time of 1:46:20, third in her age group (F50-54). The excitement occurred at the end where the street has posts to keep out motorized vehicles, as Davis is a bicycle friendly town. As Suzette navigates between two of the posts, a guy runs into her as he tries to pass her.

Some guys have a problem with women beating them, and others just want to finish ahead of every possible person. This isn’t the Olympics. This is like flying Southwest. There is no first class. Finishing 186th is no different than 191st.

As it happens, Alicia Smith is on the scene with her camera and catches the hit-and-run culprit. It’s Omir Torres, who’s 22 years younger than Suzette. We’ve got his license plate number: his bib is 3291.

Mandy, Maylee and I head back to the hotel after the race. We drive to Old Sacramento, which is right out of a Hollywood western. I’ve never been here, and it’s really neat. The streets are preserved in their 18th century motif, even if every store sells candy, ice cream or t-shirts.

We have lunch and visit the California State Railroad Museum. What a wonderful place. The Louvre of railroad museums: the trains are beautifully restored and displayed. Our original plan was to visit the museum on Saturday, but fortunately we went today. Yesterday was free admission and the museum had a record attendance of 15,000. Waits were long for all the train exhibits and the museum’s ventilation system couldn’t handle the vapor from all the people.

Today everyone is watching the Super Bowl, and we have the place to ourselves. Here’s Maylee next to a monster freight train. The wheel is bigger than her.

10 on the 10th in 2010

2010-01-10T20:35:00.000-08:00

"A lot of these runners look fast."

I don't know if Suzette Smith or Debra Cramer said this, but both of my traveling companions are psyching themselves out before the California 10 in French Camp, Ca. I try to reassure them that they'll do fine while we stay warm inside the San Joaquin County Hospital, the site of the race. The California 10 used to be the first race in the Pacific Association (PAUSATF) season, with a very competitive field. In 2006 it lost its relationship with the PAUSATF and now draws a smaller and slower field. I expect the three of us to win medals today.

The three of us made the trip through the fog because there's not many other races in January, and 10 miles is a good training distance. Debra's running the Boston Marathon in April, and I haven't raced anything longer than 5K since July. I have a half marathon coming up in a few weeks, and would like to run something between three and thirteen miles.

The temperature is in the low 40s and the air is moist with fog. We're glad to start and get warm. The course is on rural two-lane roads. The limited vehicle access in the area requires the roads to stay open, so we have to stay on the shoulder as much as possible. I see an Impala ahead of me, but can't catch her. It's Liz Gottlieb, the same woman who finished ahead of me at the Run Wild for a Child 5K in November.

I make the turn at the midway point of the out-and-back course in about 31 minutes. Within a mile I get a big cheer from Suzette and Debra who are running a relaxed pace amid a pack of runners. From time to time I get cramps in my hamstrings, which I think is caused by not racing much over the last six months. I push hard and finish in 1:03:10, which translates to a 1:24 half marathon. I haven't run that slow since 2005, but it is a PR for me for 10 miles. This is the first flat 10-mile race I've ever run. I finish 13th overall and second out of 11 in my age group (M45-49).

The real excitement is with the women. As Debra describes it, "All I can say is that I have some sick satisfaction beating those younger than me. Suzette and I smoked a group from a Sacramento running club, plus a 27-year old from Berkeley. While they were panting behind us, we were chatting away."

Suzette says that if you run in a group with Debra you will learn everyone's life story. Debra and Suzette finished first and second respectively in their age group (F50-54), nine minutes ahead of the competition.

After the race we relaxed and talked mostly about running in the cafeteria where we were offered soup. I had a bowl of minestrone, but it was a little too tasty after squeezing my digestive system with my respiratory system for an hour, and downing a Cliff Bar and Luna Moons from friend Jane Watson. We preferred the bagels and cream cheese that I brought because the race started relatively late.

The morning was a comfortable start to the running year, sort of like waking up in a warm bed after a good sleep. The logistics were excellent, with plenty of indoor access for restrooms and a place to hang out, and the soup was a nice touch. At $25 the race costs about as much as a small 5K, and is one of the best bargains I've found if you don't mind making the drive.

I'm very encouraged by my performance and look forward to the next race on Super Bowl Sunday, the Davis Stampede Half Marathon.

Best and Worst of 2009

2009-12-31T08:06:00.001-08:00

This was a non-Olympic year, but there were still a lot of highlights in 2009 as well as some low points. For me the year contained more ups and downs than any other. I got off to a great start before injuries slowed me in July. I had to miss the half marathon of the San Francisco marathon and all of my favorite races in the fall. Maybe my new stretching and strengthening routine will keep me healthier in 2010, although I think injuries will remain a threat. Best wishes, and a healthy 2010 to all.

Best Race: I had hoped to one day be on a team for the Tahoe Relay, and this year a group of friends made it possible. By far this was my favorite race I’ve ever run. Besides the pleasure of competing, I had a great time assembling a team, setting a lineup, preparing logistics before and during the race, and planning activities. Somehow everyone I wanted to run was able to make it, and we won our division in the sixth fastest time in our age group since 2000. I estimated that we could finish the 72-mile course in 9:20. This looked ambitious by past results, but we beat that mark by three minutes. We had four women and three men, took the lead in the third of seven legs, and never let up. It was a first-class weekend, with great accommodations in a cabin large enough for six team members and their entourages. Because I only had to run one-sixth of the race, I was able to experience the race as a spectator as well and enjoy the interaction with familiar faces on other teams. I can’t wait for next year.
Best Pre-Race Meal: Part of the Tahoe experience was terrific food. Mandy made a great entrée for a large group, pasta with pesto and potatoes. It’s as carbo-loaded as it sounds. Boil one box of penne pasta, steam a bunch of asparagus and cut into bite-sized pieces, then boil and cube three Yukon Gold potatoes after peeling them. Combine the cooked ingredients, add pesto (store bought or homemade), and top with fresh basil. Eat and run at least 10 miles fast the next day.

Best Athletic Performance, Five and Under Division: She earned her white and yellow belts in kung fu, can swim at least 25 meters unassisted, and can skate around an Olympic sized ice rink on her own. Maylee also became adept at the monkey bars after years of Daddy holding her feet. Daddy would like her to join the swim team, but it’s a big commitment and Maylee is probably correct in resisting. Next up: learning to ride a bike.

Best Athletic Performance, Open Division: For the second consecutive year, Usain Bolt broke the world records in the 100 meters and 200 meters, chopping 0.11 seconds off each mark that he set in the Beijing Olympics in 2008. These margins of improvement are the largest since the age of digital timing. The previous record in the 200 meters stood for 12 years. Bolt’s performance at the Berlin world championships in 2009 was so overwhelming that Tyson Gay ran the fastest time ever by an American in the 100 meters and still finished 0.13 seconds, or more than four feet, behind Bolt in a sport where photo finishes are common. Bolt’s iconic lightning pose during competitions will remain prevalent as he is just beginning to dominate his sport. He no longer surprises, although he continues to amaze. Bolt’s 200 record eclipsed that of Michael Johnson, who holds the record for the 400 meters set in 1999. I think Bolt could be the world champion at that distance, but he has indicated that he wants to branch out into the long jump.

Worst Runner: On July 2, I opened my Runner’s World to see Sara Palin profiled. Within a few days she resigned as governor of the second-least populated state in the country. Like everything with Palin, the story had legs, pun intended. Newsweek ran a photo of her from the Runner’s World photo shoot on its cover for its article, ‘What Do You Do with a Problem Like Sarah?’Palin complained that the photo was sexist, about a year after she complained that another Newsweek cover photo of a closeup of her face was unflattering. She was offended as a woman. I was offended as a runner. Runners don’t quit.

Lucky 13 and Nifty 50: Despite my limited activity in the fall, I managed to win 13 medals, eclipsing my previous best of nine, which brought my total since 2004 to 50.Running 5Ks later in the year helped since I didn’t have to train too much for them and was still able to place. I would take health over medals, but I’m thankful for the good luck. Some of my main competitors didn’t appear at a few races, and I managed to take a medal at the Tilden Tough 10 even though I posted my slowest time since 2004.

Best Excuse to Cross-Dress: I received a women’s jacket for completing the California Dreamin’ half/marathon combination this February. Anyone who runs either the half or full marathons at Surf City (Huntington Beach) in February, San Francisco in July and Long Beach in October over two years receives a nice jacket and large medal. The men’s small jacket was too large, so I took the smallest women’s. Other than the zipper being on the opposite side, it’s indistinguishable from a men’s jacket, and it’s the best free clothing item I’ve received in running.

Best Medal: If they ever change the design of the medal, I’ll try to get the California Dreamin’ one again. It’s a trek to go to southern California twice, but we have relatives that we enjoy visiting in the area, and the two races are scenic and well-managed.

Best Running Coverage: St. Louis is not a big running town, but the two races I ran there received extensive media coverage. The St. Louis Post Dispatch gives impressive features on returning champions and race previews of the Go! St. Louis running weekend, does a full writeup on the marathon and half marathon, and then the top five in each age group in both races are listed in the sports page on Monday, along with several stories. Compare this to San Francisco’s coverage of Bay to Breakers, which is a much more prominent race, with several professional runners. The San Francisco Chronicle didn’t even mention the winners of the race, either in print or on its web site, which had a collection of photos of the costumed runners. Amazing that I had to check the race web site to find out what happened, no different than a local 5K.

Worst Magazine Covers: Sex sells, but Runner’s World needs to sprinkle some diversity on its covers. The normal cover for the monthly magazine shows a young woman from southern California running in a jog bra. On occasion the cover will feature a young man from southern California without a shirt, and maybe every other year a running star like Ryan Hall. Runners in general are a pretty decent looking group, so Runner's World should be able to find unlimited subjects of different ages, in all parts of the country, running in a variety of weather conditions, wearing any type of running apparel.

Best Celebrities: I had a brief encounter with Ceci St. Geme, but Jane Watson had her photo taken with Kara Gaucher at the Nike Women’s Marathon. Kids might idolize Peyton Manning or Derrick Jeter, but they will never play catch with either of them, and they will never be on the same field competing with them. That’s not true in running, where everyone lines up with the elites at marathons, and the stars are very accessible. As Jane says of Kara, she’s as nice as she it fast. I saw a video of an interview with the Asics women’s team that won the Bay to Breakers centipede championship as it regularly does. While Heather Gibson and her teammates were answering questions, Deena Kastor jumped into the picture and said she wanted to be part of the next centipede team. The women loved it, and the idea is almost plausible. Kastor genuinely admired the Asics amateurs, and who wouldn’t want an Olympic medalist and the current US marathon champion on their team?

Worst Weather: The normal perfect Bay Area weather deserted me on several races, as I slogged through four downpours and one brief heat wave. Prior to this year I dealt with rain once in five years. The weather didn’t affect my outcomes in terms of placement, but the heat slowed me considerably.

Injury of the Year: Eli Manning’s got it, so does Kobe Bryant and Albert Pujols. I thought I got rid of it in 2008, but plantar fasciitis helped keep me on the sidelines for most of the latter part of 2009. Six years of running and the advance of middle age have made this a persistent pain in the foot. I’m not cured, but only rarely do I feel any discomfort. It seems that certain injuries become fashionable. Remember pulled hamstrings from the 1970s and the high-ankle sprain from a few years ago? Now plantar fasciitis is 'in' injury. This one is persistent, as I write this with a stinger in my heel.

Best Non-Running Workout: When I was injured swimming didn’t do it for me, nor did the stair master elliptical machine, or spinning class. I’m not good enough at swimming to exhaust myself, the stair master and elliptical are too easy, and I don’t know how hard to push myself in spinning. For me the stationary bike is the best substitute for running. Forty minutes at the maximum setting on a hill course challenges my legs and gives a pretty good cardio workout.

Best Use of TARP Funds: I felt obligated to run this race because I was my office’s team captain, but I was still battling recurring pain in my right leg and foot when I ran the JP MorganChase Corporate Challenge in September. I hadn’t run fast for two months, and was pleased to discover that my leg didn’t snap off at the knee when I managed to complete the 3.5 mile course in a 6:15 pace. This race made me realize that I still could compete without seriously injuring myself. I knew that I had to get healthier, but I wasn’t ready to quit. I managed to race three more 5Ks, which was a limited schedule, but very gratifying. Sure, JP MorganChase didn’t use its TARP infusion to stage the race, but the TARP funds kept JP in business so that they could host it.

Best New Running Locale: Unfortunately I injured myself on a glorious 12-mile run on this wonder in mid-July. The Chicago Waterfront boasts a network of paths that pass the museums, aquarium, Soldier’s Field, yacht clubs, and parks. I was most impressed by the packs of runners. Some were sponsored by running stores, and others were independent running clubs. Running in groups of 20 or 30, their enthusiasm helped dull my pain and lifted my spirit on that day. I eagerly await my next visit to Chicago and opportunity to run without injuring myself.

Perfect Carma

2009-11-29T05:40:00.001-08:00

"Your backpack's got naked people on it!"

Someone from my party at the Run Wild for a Child race has called me out for something that I realized this morning. The backpack that I received for running the 2008 Napa Marathon has a bottle of wine with a coed couple streaking on the label. The backpack was the right size for today's race, and it elicits a string of comments about stripping, going green by going nude, and Bay to Breakers.

We stay fully clothed, but reluctantly peel off our long outerwear in the brisk morning air. The weather is beautiful but enjoyed better with more layers. With 25 miles to be run between the five of us, shoulders, arms and legs are exposed twenty minutes before race time.

Suzette Smith (at left) drove the group of us, which includes her son Tim, Jane Watson (second from right), Debra Cramer (on the right) and myself. We carpooled in Suzette's Prius, which must give our fivesome one of the smallest carbon footprints at the race. Thanks to Suzette I was able to enjoy what I consider one of the most spectacular entrances to any city, the westbound Bay Bridge emerging from the Treasure Island Tunnel. I've made this commute daily for 10 years. I tried to include a clip of it here, but the video file was too large.

The girls run the 10K and the guys the 5K. This is a tough field, and I finished fifth last year when I was in better shape. I would have placed in last year's 5K, and given that I haven't run anything longer in four months, I decide not to torture myself. Tim has run once in the previous three weeks, so he's not going to exert himself either.

I start fast and pass two Impalas whom I planned to pace against. As with most 5Ks there's not much to talk about. Fatigue hits about halfway through the race and one of the Impalas, Liz Gottlieb (F334), passes me and wins the women's race in 18:05. I finish in 18:30, 17 seconds slower than at the Primo's 5K in October, but good enough for third in my age group. I never seem to run well in Golden Gate Park, which is a shame since it's such a great setting.

The course may be a bit more difficult here, and last year's 10K was only six seconds better when adjusting for the distance. My knee and foot held up better than in any race since the Run to the Lake in July, and I ran the first mile only five seconds slower than normal. My main problem is that I am a bit out of shape, and can't sustain a max effort over much more than a mile.

My brother Martin greets me at the finish line. His wife Kathy is running the 5K as well. The last time I saw Kathy was at the St. Michael's Day Dash in St. Louis on September 27. This time Kathy has different attire, as she's dressed as a Lego block for the costume contest.

The women in our group clean up in the 1oK. Jane (F45) takes third in her age group in 43:56, Suzette (F54) is second in 46:21 and Debra (F52) is right behind Suzette in third. The medal winners all had pretty similar performances when adjusting for age and gender. Suzette's run ranked 76% (of the world record) in the age-grade scale, and the other three of us were within 3% percent of her. We're pictured below with our medals. Tim, the glue that holds us together, is right in the middle.

My medal was the 13th of the year, a new high. It was also the 50th since I resumed running in 2004. The big winner was Kathy. She won two nights at a swanky hotel for finishing fourth, first among individual competitors, in the costume contest.

Great weather, friends and family, great place for a race, and tons of fun. Perfect carma.

Learning to Run

2009-11-28T05:57:00.000-08:00

Physical therapy, that was the answer. Rest, orthotics, swimming, stationary cycling, wearing a sock that pulled my toes toward my ankle while I slept, acupuncture and consultation with an orthopedic specialist didn't work. Physical therapy has been very effective. The other methods have their strenths, and I would suggest that anyone with an injury pursue any of these methods to see what's effective. Cycling and to a lesser extent swimming helped maintain a floor of running fitness. Acupuncture brought the most immediate relief, but didn't sustain. My podiatrist and orthopedic specialist recommended physical therapy, so their suggestion proved correct.

My first visit was not unlike those with other medical professionals. I described my symptoms, which the practitioner found puzzling, and then I was given a hypothesis. In my case my physical therapist Imee said the muscles in my legs were too tight and she observed that when I walked my foot didn't rest on my heel as much as with most people. She suggested that I focus on landing on my heel, advice that I have not followed, at least consciously. I figure I know how to walk.

A lot of research indicates that stretching brings no health or performance benefits, although there is not a consensus on the topic. I followed the practice of avoiding stretching for more than five years, and felt that soreness and tightness in my legs indicated that I was working hard and getting fit. Assuming that tight muscles equaled strong muscles, I only stretched after really lng runs when I made time for it, or before some races.

Other than changing my walking gait, I strictly follow everything Imie says. I'm a very good patient, and motivated to get better. She prescribed some stretching exercises at first and said that I should not expect to run for five weeks. My second visit she massaged the back of my right knee. She was looking for the source of my pain, and she found more pain than I could by myself. This ordeal feels like nails in the soft tissue below the knee. The shoots of pain caused me to break out in sweat, a response that she still triggers whenever she tells me to lie on my stomach.

On my second visit Imee prescribed strength training, including leg lifts and clamshells, both while lying on my side, and leg presses and hamstring curls at the gym. My third visit was an epiphany. Imee observed me running on a treadmill. It was my first run in several weeks, and I really enjoyed it. More importantly, I ran two miles with no pain. Imee discovered that I was not following through on my right leg. I was speeding through the right side, almost like running on a crutch. She also noted that I seemed stiff as opposed to fluid, and that my back kick was abbreviated on both legs.

The session went so well that she said I could run five miles at a time. She said I should focus on her observations. Even better she said that I could skip my next semiweekly sessions with her. That week I ran three five-mile sessions 100% pain free. The next week was three six milers.

I reported back to Imee at my next visit. It was amazing to not expect pain while running. I do have some residual sensations of injury in the knee, so I know I have to ease back into my routine. Imee said my plan to increase mileage about three miles a week seems reasonable, but to back off if it hurts. She gave me another break from visits, and I'll see her the week after next. That will give me a respite from breaking into a cold sweat.

I have to give credit to my colleague Anne Selting for suggesting Physiotherapy Associates, where I get my treatment. They are very close to the office, which eliminates the biggest obstacle to my frequent visits for therapy.

Family Ties

2009-09-27T08:39:00.000-07:00

Encouraged by my decent showing at the corporate challenge on September 16, I decided to run a 5K while visiting my family in St. Louis. It’s the St. Michael’s Day Dash, a race to honor the patron saint of firefighters and police officers. I had no idea that St. Michael held this position, but I suppose that St. Louis looks for the Catholic connection whenever possible. My siblings and I all attended Catholic grade school and high school, and my sister Diane met her husband at a Catholic university. Not until I moved from St. Louis did I realize that most cities don’t have a lot of Catholic schools, and the schools they have are small and relatively insignificant in athletics.

The race’s connection to public safety means that it features an array fire and police icons like fire trucks and a bagpipe ensemble that leads us to the starting line. Maylee would have loved it, but she and Mandy are back in California.

I haven’t run since the 3.5 mile corporate challenge 11 days earlier. Yesterday I ran around the block to test my knee, which responded favorably. I’m not in great shape, but I think I can run under 20 minutes, which would be two minutes slower than the last 5K I ran on July 4. I want to finish in 19:21, which will require the 6:15 pace that I ran the shorter corporate challenge. This course is hilly and has eight turns, whole the corporate challenge is flat with long straightaways.

The start of the race is marked by a race volunteer who had to avoid us like a dodgeball target when he forgot to get out of the starting lane, and then a car that crossed the course 20 feet from the start, missing the lead runners by about five feet. Once we navigate these two hazards, we’re on our way.

I’m somewhere in the top 10 as the race begins, feeling pretty good. About a mile and a half in, a runner catches up to me and I instinctively slow down, so subtly that it’s almost imperceptible.
“Stay with me,” he says. His name is Don Kueneke (M53) of Kirkwood, Mo.

I barely pick up my pace and run alongside. “Nice job,” he says.

It occurs to me that in this relatively small field I have the luck of running not only with a pacer, but also a very supportive one, if only I can keep up with him. I ask him his goal time. He says 18:40, to which I respond that’s probably going to be too fast for me. He replies anything under 19 minutes would be good, and I indicate that we’re on pace for that time. I consider telling him that I’m injured and not in the best of shape, that my PR is under 18 but that was on a flat course, and if my lungs don’t give out my foot might wither, but I’d rather run than talk, and he surely feels the same. I spare him my drama and figure he and I will find out the level of my fitness in about 10 minutes.

We hit the second mile in 12 minutes, comfortably within reach of a 19 minute finish. The third mile has a series of hills, and I take the lead for most of it. I’m going full speed and he’s cruising, so he passes me before the last turn. I finish in 19:10, eighth overall. I would have placed in the top three in any age group other than my own (M40-49) in which I finish fourth. Fortunately for me, the race gives masters awards to the guys in my age group who were ahead of me, and because the race doesn’t allow double-dipping it declares me as the winner of my group. The generous $20 gift certificate covers my registration fee.

The men’s winner is Seth Kelly, who works at the running store that I will visit later today to redeem my gift certificate. The women’s winner is not a woman at all, but a 13-year-old girl named Sophia Racette, who I thought was no older than eight years old. She’s about four and a half feet tall. Looking like a mini Kara Gaucher, she sported professional running attire that included form-fitting shorts and singlet, aerodynamic sunglasses and arm warmers, and had her hair in a ponytail. She reminds me of kids who wear full football pads in Pop Warner leagues or for Halloween, as if she was wearing a costume or the clothes are for grownups. Her time of 20:13 proved her ability matches her clothes, and undoubtedly she’ll make some high school and perhaps college coach thrilled to have her on the team. I later learned she’s posted one of the top 20 times for 3000 meters among girls nationwide in her age group.

After the race I meet up with my brother Andy and sister in law Kathy. They finished in 27:07 and 28:28, helping us set a record for the most Wittes in a race. I meet with other runners as well, including Don Kueneke and James Marino (M30), who raved about the San Francisco Marathon that I missed a few months ago when my foot screamed in pain. So many friendly people. I’m having a great time.

I love St. Louis races. In the three that I’ve run, I’ve won prizes and money, and tonight I made the evening news. Channel 5 did a story on the race, and featured my finishing kick as its running clip. Above is a still shot from the newscast. I even met Fredbird, the mascot of the St. Louis Cardinals, who had clinched a playoff spot the night before.

That’s a lot of activity for a small and short race. My hope is to run three times a week for 20 miles. If everything goes well, I’ll run the 5K at the Primo’s race in two weeks.

Which Doctor

2009-09-26T09:54:00.000-07:00

Acupuncture doesn’t sound like a bad idea. More than two months since my breakdown in Chicago, I’m still looking for answers to my injuries. My regimen has shifted to no-impact non-competitive training, but I’ve noticed no improvement in my feet or knee. Actually the problems seem to be increasing. The plantar fasciitis that exploded in my right foot has crept into my left foot. When I ran the Corporate Challenge last week I nearly dropped out of the race after the first third of a mile after the start, but then my right knee and then left hamstring improved during the run.

Last year’s miracle cure of orthotics didn’t work. My feet still hurt and I’m probably putting more stress on the knee as I favor the feet, whichever one is hurting.

The symptoms are weird and the diagnosis is unclear. I saw Dr. Gordon Lundy, orthopedic specialist, on Wednesday, who had no explanation for my injuries. He stretched my legs and knees and said of my knee that “It’s a rock’. There is no obvious damage or weakness in the joint. He prescribed six weeks of physical therapy, describing my condition as a strained hamstring and tendinitis. If my condition doesn’t improve then we’ll do an MRI.

I'm not one to go beyond the traditional medical establishment, but the lack of progress has me searching input from non-western medical sources. Among the suggestions I’ve received:

Kat, the spinning instructor at the gym and triathlete, and Hillary, a very fit gym member, swear by their acupuncturist. I plan to make an appointment.
Suzette says that when her and Tony’s high school athletes get inexplicable maladies, ice sometimes does the trick. I purchased an ice wrap that I’ll try to use while visiting my family in St. Louis this weekend.

So what does a hobbled runner do? I think there are tips for coping. First, be patient. I have paid attention to the pain. I had hoped to run the Banana Chase 5K two weeks ago, and then the Primo’s half marathon next month. I missed the Banana Chase and will skip Primo’s. I felt obligated to run the corporate challenge, and I’m glad I did since I managed to complete it in a respectable time with no lingering effects. I’ve registered for a 5K in my brother’s town of Kirkwood tomorrow. Basically I’m limited to three-mile races. Even though I can’t train hard and can run only minimal distances, my training regimen has kept my cardio vascular system strong. I never thought I would be running so little so suddenly, but there’s no use forcing it when the outcome will disappoint.

Second, be happy for what you have. I belong to a great gym close to the house. The gym has all types of cardio equipment, weights and resistance equipment, a pool, a variety of classes, and very nice people who have been encouraging me. I’ve experimented and found that swimming is great but doesn’t stress my cardio vascular system as much as I would like. Spinning is surprisingly easy. I probably need a tougher instructor than Kat, or maybe I need to figure out what resistance I can tolerate. Stairmasters are too easy, and Nordic track is even easier. I put all the machines on their highest level and get bored. The only workout that comes close to my typical run is the stationary bike. I choose a preset routine, Kilimanjaro or Cascades, put it on the highest setting of 25, watch CNN, or ESPN and pedal for 40 minutes. If the corporate challenge is any indication, the cycling maintains a high level of fitness without any impact.

Third, don’t have any expectations. I thought I’d be training hard in September, but now I have no timetable. I hope I can run in the spring, I’d like to do the Tahoe Relay again, and I’d like to run some distance at the Oakland Running Festival in March and return to St. Louis for the Go! St. Louis half marathon. All this is up in the air. These are all worthy goals, but maybe it won’t happen.

Fourth, stay involved. This one I have to work on, but there are a lot of opportunities to help and stay active in running without racing. Maylee’s getting close to the age that she could volunteer at a race with me, and I should do it regardless. Plus, it’s also a way to stay in touch with running friends and their success.

Fifth, diversify. If the running doesn’t return soon, I may have to branch out into other activities. Swimming doesn’t come as naturally as running, but I do have convenient access to a pool. I have no bike, so cycling would be more difficult, but I think I would be pretty good in that sport based on what I’ve done the last two months on the stationary bike. Maybe a bike is in the future.

Sixth, stay interested. I read Runner’s World a few days after it comes in the mail and I do my best to follow track and field. We watched the world championships last month and I recorded the last track meet of the international season. It’s exciting to see Bernard Lagat, Shannon Rowbury, Nick Simmons and others running in big meets.

*************************************************

Maylee's famous: My sister-in-law Kathy Doan gave me a copy of the Pamakids newsletter that was distributed at the RRCA (Road Runners Club of America) conference in San Francisco in March. Lake Merrit Joggers and Striders (LMJS) was one of the co-sponsoring organizations, descriptions of which were included in the publication. Among the photos from the club is one of Maylee at the starting line of an LMJS kids race, looking up at the kids a head taller than her.

Happy Birthday Mom: Today my mom turns 70. My uncle Jay and aunt Lynn are having a party for her tonight. All of my siblings except Valerie and I are in town for the party. Valerie comes to St. Louis in a few weeks. Mom looks great and is in good health. We're very lucky. thanks Mom, for everything you gave us and continue to shower on us and our children.

Good Company

2009-09-16T16:16:00.000-07:00

This year five members of our office represented Standard & Poor’s at the JPMorgan Chase Corporate Challenge. With three men and two women we had the right mix for one coed team, two males and two females, with one extra runner. Weather was ideal and the stunning scenery made one forget about the pain, or maybe a little of it.

Eighty percent of our team is shown above. It's me, Anne Selting, Jessica Schultz and Chris Morgan. The team results for the 3.5 mile race:

Larry Witte: 21:49 (99th among men)*
Chris Morgan: 29:10*
Paul Dyson: 29:49
Anne Selting: 31:46*
Jessica Schultz: 38:12*

*Times includes in team scoring.

The combined coed time of 2:00:57 was eight minutes faster than our coed team from 2008. For comparison, our male team from last year was about 20 minutes faster. As a team we finished 54th among coeds, exactly in the middle of the 107-team field in that division.

After the race we held the second annual S&P JPMCCC Awards Ceremony at Amici’s. Awards went to:

Chris Morgan: Rookie of the Year for having the fastest time among first-year runners.
Paul Dyson: Johnny Kelley Award. (Also ‘AAA’ winner, see below.) Paul has the longest streak for running this race among those in our office. Johnny Kelley ran the Boston Marathon a record 61 times, winning it twice, finishing second seven times, and placing in the top 10 18 times. The marathon was a smaller affair in Kelley’s heyday (there were no Kenyans, Ethiopians, or professionals), but his time of 2:30 in 1945 translates to a pace of 5:45 per mile. He was named Runner of the Century by Runner’s World magazine. Kelley passed away at 97 in 2004.
Anne Selting: Most Electrifying Runner. Anne was our first corporate runner ever and she’s a utilities analyst.
Jessica Schultz: Oldest Shoes. At least three years old. I'm very proud of Jessica. This was her first race ever. She did well and without her we wouldn't have fielded a team.

Above is our whole team at Amici's. Paul, on the right, joins me, Chris, Jessica and Anne. The day after the race the panel of judges (me) noticed the oversight of not naming the ‘AAA’ Award winner for predicting the closest actual time. Paul won, coming within four seconds of his predicted time. Anne was a very close second, 14 seconds from her predicted time.

Time Off

2009-07-25T17:34:00.000-07:00

Earlier this month I felt soreness in my right knee. The ache came and went, and traveled around the front of my knee to the back of my leg right above the knee. Last week I thought I would stretch the tightness out of my right leg, and when I did I felt a tingle through my calf and heel to my toes.

Something was wrong, but I figured I could run for the rest of the month until tomorrow's half marathon at the San Francisco Marathon. A week ago today I ran 12 miles along the Chicago waterfront. What a great place to run. Unfortunately, the pain that unusually subsides in my knee after a mile or so didn't go away until five miles. Then my right foot hurt. Later that day I found it painful to walk. I was pretty sure I'd miss the half marathon.

I haven't run since. My podiatrist has a cheery prognosis: take a week off and get new orthotics. I'll do him three weeks better and take all of August off, trying to stay in shape by swimming. I also plan to get fitted for shoes, just to see if I should move on from my Adidas Boston Classics that have worked so well for four years.

They Must Be Angels

2009-07-12T12:12:00.001-07:00

Today's Run to the Lake shares the same date on the calendar with Maylee's fifth birthday party. The party is six hours later, but there is a cake to pick up, food to pack up, a 5-year-old girl to dress up, and a party space at Children's Fairyland to fix up. After some lobblying with Mandy, I am able to run the race, and I have a great day thanks to intervening angels.

Age is creeping up on me, as my time was more than half a minute slower than two years ago. On the other hand, today's result gave me 10 medals for 2009, the most in any year. I still have the half marathon at the San Francisco Marathon at the end of the month and then the fall racing season after the August/September hiatus. Seven medals came from races that I usually place in, but then I got lucky at Tilden, returned to the Martinez Brickyard faster than I was four years ago, and captained a team that captured the mixed masters crown at the Lake Tahoe Relay.

Mandy: First angel is Mandy, who made it possible. She said I could run the race if I rush home and skip the awards ceremony. I ran six seconds slower than last year, finishing first among master's runners and seventh overall in a time of 39:04. This kept my streak of six races and six medals since 2004 alive. At some point the inevitable conflicts between this race and Maylee's birthday will keep me from running, but not in 2009.

Steven Chavez: I finally figured how to finish ahead of Steven Chavez. In his early 50s, Steven runs faster than nearly everyone, and always finishes well ahead of me. As I passed the fourth mile, Steve was dressed in full warmups holding a trash can. "Why aren't you running?", I asked. "I'm volunteering," he replied. I gave him a thumbs up and kept running. By the fourth mile he's usually out of my sight. Maybe I could beat him if he carried the trash can to the finish line.
John Notch: Running the fifth mile, I came upon a man with a full beard and head of white hair. Tall, athletic, and looking like Zeus, it was the legendary John Notch. He carried a crossing guard stop sign, running from one intersection to another to direct traffic. I had a chance meeting with John at a dinner party several years ago. He said he was one of the original members of the Lake Merritt Joggers and Striders. The reality is that he founded the club, and recorded several amazing feats, like finishing second in the 72 mile run around Lake Tahoe, a single person event that isn't even held anymore. I said hi as I pass him, and he cheered, "Hey Buddy, looking good!"
Tim Smith: I had to get home so I missed the medal distribution. Tim agreed to stay with his mom Suzette and pick up the award for me. That was a very nice gesture. Thank you, Tim.
Josh McDonald: A young man approached me and asked how I did. He won the race, and it's pretty unusual for strangers who finish several minutes apart to discuss a race. I told him I was a few seconds slower than last year, but felt good about the run. I then asked him when was his next race, and he responded he would either run the steeplechase at the Junior Olympics or attend Ryan Hall's running camp at Big Bear. Thinking that I may be in the presence of a prodigy, I asked Josh if I heard of him. He said maybe, that he finished first and second in consecutive years in the North Coast Section high school track. Impressed, I asked if he was going to run in college. He said he was going to run for Liberty University, and wanted to run for a Christian school. He's a senior at Redwood Christian High. He has wings, he's fast, and is a person who takes his faith seriously. Josh must be an angel.

Social Call

2009-07-05T15:12:00.001-07:00

The July Fourth Mayor's RACE in Alameda retained its small size and large crowds to see the parade immediately after. It was a chance to see friends: runners and spectators alike. Suzette Smith (2nd F41+), Jane Watson (3rd W41+), Guillermo Cazares (2nd M41+), Tony Fong (3rd M41+) and Neal Rodrigues (3rd M19-40) placed well as expected.

My race was faster than last year by two seconds. I finished 10th overall and first among men 41+ in a time of 17:52. After the race Tony joked about fighting over the first place medal. Turns out my medal was for third place. When I realized this, I asked Tony if he struck a deal with the race organizers. He looked at his medal and laughed, not knowing he had the first place medal. We switched. Better luck next time, Tony.

Up, Up and Away

2009-06-13T22:41:00.001-07:00

My mom, Jane Watson and I are driving to our designated spot, the start of leg 3 that Jane will run, about 17 miles from the start of the 72-mile Lake Tahoe Relay. We listen to the news about the results of the Iranian election on the radio. A few minutes go by as we pass the shops, small businesses, casinos and hotels of South Lake Tahoe.

We continue to drive in search of any sign of the race. At 8:22 AM we get a call from Suzette, who's finished her leg. Later the first runners appear. We've caught the slower runners, and the sight is inspiring. Everyone is pushing themselves to a common destination, like a flock of migratory birds.

The runners become more concentrated and we look for Tony Fong. Leg 2 starts at 6,200 feet altitude, with a finishing climb up to 7,000 feet over the last three and a half miles. As we approach the tunnel on the runners' path we see Tony moving pretty well. I was supposed to run this leg, but Tony wanted to run early in the race, and I had assigned the hardest legs, 2, 4 and 6, to the men. Tony's running the first of them, and I'm glad it's him instead of me.

We pull into the large parking area at the leg 3 handoff and see Suzette. Her time was excellent, 1:17:36, a minute and 24 seconds faster than I scheduled. We're second among mixed masters, 4:14 behind Tahoe Redondo. Suzette reports that her leg wasn't too hard and that she would have run faster if she were more familiar with the course.

Tony, pictured with Suzette above, arrives in 1:04:47, putting us just 23 seconds behind what I planned. He and Suzette put us in great position, and confirm the accuracy of the times I had predicted. At this pace we will record a very fast total time. Tony passed 13 runners, placing us 30th overall. I check the results and see that no other team with a number in the 90s, the coed masters teams, has reached the third starting point. We are first in our division, 2:54 ahead of Tahoe Redondo. The photo below shows Suzette, me and Jane awaiting Jane's start of her leg.

Clinging to the Lead

My mother and I drive a few miles into leg 3, pull off at a scenic overlook and wait for Jane. While there we see Len Goldman, president of the Lake Merritt Joggers and Striders, who gave me many valuable tips regarding the race. Len, pictured below, has run this thing about 14 times. LMJS's men's 60s team has won its age division 11 years in a row. The LMJS women's 50s team and the LMJS men's 60s and 70s team have the course record for their divisions. The club's history with the race goes back more than 30 years, and Jack Zakarian has run it more than anyone on LMJS, nearly every year. Jane approaches afterwards and waves me off for water. She looks strong and relaxed, and is carrying her own water. She tells us to meet her at the end.

I get to the fourth handoff and check the clipboard. No mixed masters team has arrived. Mom and I see Jane run toward me...and then past me when she doesn't realize that her leg ends with a sharp left turn. I yell at her a couple of times, and Jane retraces her steps, finishing in 1:21:18, a mere 18 seconds longer than I predicted. Jane passed five more teams, putting us in 25th place overall, and gaining two more minutes on Tahoe Redondo.

For the second time this year Jane taps me in a relay, and it's my turn to run. Leg 4 is the longest in the race at 12.4 miles. It's not the most difficult, but Len Goldman advised me to put our fastest runner here. With Tony switching with me, we've got Len's alignment. I'm matched with fellow blogger Sarah Lavender Smith of Tahoe Redondo. Sarah's a very good runner who's won Lake Chabot and specializes in trail races and ultras.

I've run at altitude but never raced anywhere higher than St. Louis. Len advised me that the altitude at Lake Tahoe adds 30 seconds per mile. I run the first mile in 6:40 just about the right adjustment from my half marathon pace. The weather is pleasantly cooler than normal, so I don't take any water with me. This is a mistake as the dry and thin air sucks the moisture out of me. Two miles into my leg Jane gives me water. I gulp as much as I can, very appreciative of my teammate's support.

At three miles I approach the only hilly part of my leg. It's a two mile climb with a decline of the same distance. A road sign says that Kings Beach is in four miles, which is where the hill portion ends. As the ascent begins I gain on a runner and eventually pass her. The hill is only 200 feet, but feels much higher with the altitude. I'm looking forward to the end of my leg, but I'm less than halfway done.

As the fatigue grows I consider walking some of the uphill segments, as I did in recent races at Tilden and Lake Chabot. No one is around me, and nobody will know that I've taken a break. But the thought of my teammates and the efforts they are giving keeps me running. Fortunately, whenever my legs tell me so stop I reach the crest of a hill and cruise downhill.

By the time I approach Kings Beach I've run from Nevada into California and have passed another two runners. Running by a cafe, I see Len, who yells, "We're having breakfast!" At first this statement makes no sense to me. I've been up since around 6 AM, have seen Suzette and Tony finish their runs, spent an hour in the car with Jane, and am now halfway through my leg. It feels more like mid-afternoon. Then I realize that it isn't even noon.

My mother enjoys my races, and I'm surprised to discover that this one is probably the best for her to attend. I had expected the opposite since the 120 teams are scattered around the lake, spreading out as the day progresses. Instead, spectators driving the course get to glimpse the runners at several points. In addition, the spectators can even participate as relief volunteers since teams provide their own water. Mom did just that, as Jane captured in this great photo.

Jane and Mom give me water three times, which is more than I'll take in any race other than a marathon or a really hot race. I had been concerned with the forecasts throughout the week of rain during the race. Today's somewhat overcast conditions were better than if we had full sun. As I near the end of my leg I see the flags for the handoff to Diane Dove. Tagging Diane is the best feeling I can remember in a long time. I double over and gasp for air. I am completely gassed, but exhilarated, exhausted and relieved.

I had scheduled the handoff for 12:06 PM. My watch says 12:07 PM. We are running a schedule as tight at German trains. My time of 1:23:52, a pace of 6:48, puts us 14 minutes ahead of Tahoe Redondo, but Cool Cats of Los Gatos, who are now the closest competitors in our division, are just four minutes behind. Tony predicted that I would gain 10 minutes on our division, which didn't happen. Sarah Lavender Smith lost 90 seconds in the bathroom, so my nine-minute advantage over her was only about seven and a half, and Cool Cats ran a few seconds faster than me.

Diane is perhaps our most gifted runner. She races infrequently and never does speed work, but almost always finds herself with an age-group award. Recently she was the women's winner at a turkey trot, and she's in her mid-50s. More relevant to me, she was my teammate at the 2006 Couples Relay that we won. A junior college all-America as a swimmer, she qualified for nationals in track after transferring to San Francisco State. While this is not recent history, I know that having her on the team is a big advantage. Diane runs the longest leg we've assigned to a woman, and does well, finishing in 1:22:18. She outruns everyone in our division except Cool Cats, who ran three minutes faster. I suspect Cool Cats ran a male on this leg, and after more than 50 miles of racing our lead is just 1:01.

We Came, We Saw, We Had a Blast

Could John hold our lead? Mom, Jane and I checked in with John ahead of his run. John was ready to go, and we told him to take it easy because of the altitude. His leg is the toughest, with a 500-foot climb over the last two miles. John comes through brilliantly, finishing in 1:27:07, the fastest time in our division. John opens an eight-minute lead over Cool Cats and expands the advantage over on Tahoe Redondo to nearly 17 minutes. He hands over a big lead to Holly for the final leg.

We drive back to the cabin to get cleaned up before heading back to see how Holly finishes. The clouds that have hovered for the day start to produce rain. I'm feeling bad for Holly as the rain intensifies. I hope she'll be okay. When we get back to the cabin Jane and I devour the chips and cheese dip that John's wife Cathy brought the night before.

Fully refreshed I return to the finish line around 4 PM. John and others in our party are waiting, reporting that Holly's running well. Off in the distance we see a small figure dressed in white. Diane is running alongside, pacing Holly through the last quarter mile. She finishes in 1:26:40, more than six minutes faster than planned. She holds on to our lead, which is nine minutes faster than Tahoe Redondo, our closest competitors.

Our total time of 9:17:38 is the sixth-fastest mixed masters performance out of 52 recorded teams since 2000. Everyone ran well enough that even if one person had a bad day we still could have won. John said the women saved us, but he's only 4/7 correct. Suzette and Holly ran faster than I predicted, but everyone else improved or held our overall position as we increased our lead over similar teams. The photo below shows Suzette, Diane, me, Jane and Holly with our awards. We weren't able to get the team together after the race, so Tony and John didn't make the photo.

As much as we enjoyed winning, the team had a great time. The common bond that the team had before the relay was that they were friends of mine, but now everyone has made friends with each other. The race was exciting, and the weekend was just as enjoyable. Suzette has run more races than she an remember, going back to the 1980s. She says this was her favorite race. I agree. Doing something I love with great people.

Thanks to Mandy and and everyone who came to Tahoe this weekend. Runners need support and flexibility in their schedules to train and compete. Our support teams gave up a weekend to watch and encourage us, and help with meal preparation and household duties. Just as the seven runners, the people who joined us bonded and established new friendships. This was the best race ever.

Initiation Rites

2009-06-12T18:21:00.001-07:00

On the eve of the Lake Tahoe Relay the East Bay Flyers gathered for a celebration of running and bonding. My sister Valerie opened the festivities with two readings of inspiration.

I always loved running... it was something you could do by yourself, and under your own power. You could go in any direction, fast or slow as you wanted, fighting the wind if you felt like it, seeking out new sights just on the strength of your feet and the courage of your lungs. -- Jesse Owens

There are as many reasons for running as there are days in the year, years in my life. But mostly I run because I am an animal and a child, an artist and a saint. So, too, are you. Find your own play, your own self-renewing compulsion, and you will become the person you are meant to be. -- George Sheehan

Following a brief interlude, the Great Wittoni entered the great room of the cabin in South Lake Tahoe. Bearing a great physical resemblance to me, the Great Wittoni explained that pressing a Cliff Bar to his temple would give him visions of wisdom.

He began his presentation with his eyes closed. "This person has the best body in the Bay Area running circuit," said Wittoni. "I would know this because I have hugged this person more than anyone else at races. This person is strong and solid. This person is like a rock. It is John "Rock" Pettinichio.”

John approached the Great Wittoni to receive his inscribed medal. Next, Wittoni bestowed a medal to Holly "Super" Starr, imparting to those gathered that she was also lucky and shooting.

Following those words of wisdom a great wind rushed through the room, knocking the Great Wittoni off balance. "I feel an irresistible force," said Wittoni. "A strong wind, so hard to fight. It's Hurricane Jane Watson!"

Next Wittoni honored Diane "Wings" Dove for her great last name and speed. Tony "Ambassador" Fong was named for his many roles promoting running.

Finally, the Great Wittoni said, "I have saved the best for last. I am watching this person run with thousands of runners. She's running the Boston Marathon...and she's on Heartbreak Hill. In front of her is Bill Rogers, four time Boston Marathon winner. Then she gains on him...and then she passes him. She's passing Bill Rogers on Heartbreak Hill! This medal is for Suzette Smith: "Heartbreaker".

The Great Wittoni announced he was appearing at the Reno Holiday Inn all next week, and then departed. Inspired and bedazzled, the East Bay Flyers retired to bed and rested for the next day's long competition.

Superfriends

2009-06-07T14:07:00.002-07:00

The evening of the Lake Chabot Trail Challenge half marathon I meet with my team that will run the Lake Tahoe Relay next Saturday, June 13. I am so excited to run with this group, running friends old and new. The relay is 72 miles around Lake Tahoe, with each person running about 10 miles. The event takes all day, and even competitive teams will finish in more than nine hours.

Witte's 7

I floated the idea of forming a team last year to John Pettinichio, but didn't get a strong reaction. This year I mentioned it to Jane Watson around the time of the Couples Relay in February. A few days later I ran into Suzette Smith on the running path in Alameda, who said she was interested. I put a feeler out on Facebook for fast masters runners and soon was in contact with Holly Starr. So far, so good with three women. Then I did a little investigation and tracked down Diane Dove on her lunch break at work. I felt a little like Danny Ocean, George Clooney's character who recruits a team of ex-cons to rob three casinos in "Ocean's 11." Diane said she was in.

I then sent John an email. "John, I have four women, I need some guys!" John said he'd run. Needing just one more runner, I hoped to get Tony Fong, envisioning him as our cleanup hitter. After a few emails, phone calls, and requests to Suzette to elicit a response from Tony, he finally sent me an email, "Count me in."

I sent a message to the group: "We have a team!"

I was delighted and surprised how easy it was to assemble the team: all strong runners and among my favorite people on the running circuit. This is my list of the top six people that I hoped would join the team, and they all accepted. There are no weak links.

Diane Dove: 2005 Boston Marathon in 3:28, co-winner 2006 Lake Merritt Couples Relay
Tony Fong: 2007 Chicago Marathon in 2:44, cross country and track coach at St. Joseph's High School in Alameda
John Pettinichio: 2006-2008 East Bay Triple Crown Joe King (50+) Winner
Suzette Smith: 2008 and 2009 Boston Marathon qualifier and girls cross country and track coach at St. Joseph's High School
Holly Starr: 2006, 2008 East Bay Triple Crown Ruth Anderson (50+) Winner
Jane Watson: 2008 and 2009 Boston Marathon qualifier, and my teammate on the 2009 Lake Merritt Couples Relay
Larry Witte: other half of Couples Relays with Diane and Jane, big fan of Suzette and Holly, West Valley teammate of Tony, and comrade in legs with John

Scouting Report

I came up with the name East Bay Flyers (four from Alameda, one each from Berkeley, Walnut Creek and Hayward), and entered the team with high hopes. If the women could average nine-minute miles and the men could run seven-minute miles, we would finish in about 9 hours and 48 minutes, very competitive in our division, Mixed Masters. I did more analysis because I wanted runners to arrive at their starting points some time close to when they would take over from the previous runner. This seemed to be the preferable alternative to driving around the lake for nine hours with six of your less aromatic friends.

Based on what I knew of everyone's ability, and adjusting for terrain I came up with a finishing time of 9:20, which would be the sixth-fastest in our division since 2000. I reviewed my estimates a few times and couldn't convince myself to be any more conservative. Our team had more women than men, and our average age was nearly 50, but while most Mixed Masters teams were more male and perhaps younger, I didn't think we were disadvantaged. We had a strong team and I felt there was already cushion in my estimate.

The 2009 race has more coed masters teams than every year since 2000, except 2002. There will be plenty of competition. Here is my take with team numbers before each name:

90. Tahoe Redondo: A team of four men and three women who competed in the last six races in the open coed division. They look to be in pretty good shape and have finished under 10 hours each time, although they are getting slower with a 9:52 in 2008. They may be our stiffest competition.
91. Homewood Homie's: New team with goofy name. Not a concern.
92. Slammin'Slugs: Finished in 12:04 last year.
93. East Bay Flyers: Yey!
94. Sundance til Sundown: Finished in 12:20 in 2007.
95. Cool Cats of Los Gatos: New team with a smaller talent base than the East Bay.
96. Graying & Sagging, But Never Lagging: New team. I'm not sure to give greater weight to Graying and Sagging or Never Lagging. They could be bad or good.
97. Team Tipps: Family team that finished in 10:58 last year.

My prediction: we'll finish first or second.

Persuasion by Pam

2009-06-07T14:07:00.001-07:00

"Hey, you made it! I'm so proud of you!" Pam Ben Rached then gives me a high-five and a hug as she greets me.

"This race I can handle," I reply. "I'm skipping Woodminster."

My first and only prior interaction with Pam was three weeks ago. Very funny packed with energy, Pam and her husband Mourad own a fitness studio in Castro Valley, Body by Pam. A personal trainer in the Denise Austin mold, Pam doesn't have any reservations about giving praise and opinions. Pam introduces me to her daughter Jasmine and Mourad, and we have a brief and animated discussion about my participation at Woodminster race, the third leg of the East Bay Triple Crown.

Pam wants me to run Woodminster, but it's the site of my worst race since 2004. The course's steep and long hills and single-track downhills caused me to finish 38th overall, 16th in my age group. I never run trails, and I think it's pointless to lose at Woodminster when I can win on the flat course in Pleasanton on the same day.

Pam's not convinced. Why do something you're comfortable with when you could challenge yourself, do something different and improve your fitness? She's got a point, but part of my motivation for being in shape is to win something. It's my reward for running four mile intervals on a treadmill at 5:30 AM. If I don't win a $2 medal I'll sleep later, run less, and then lose interest in the sport.

Right before the race I tell John Pettinichio that we have to stick together today, since we've finished one second apart the past two years. John tells me to run ahead. He's going to take it easy since he's running the Lake Tahoe relay with me the following week.

Weather is perfect. There's no sun, which is important as we climb the fire trails above the lake. The race is uneventful. I reach the Lone Oak trail with a lot of caution. With no real strategy I decide to run until I feel strained, which causes me to walk at least part of every uphill for the next two miles, or what I judge to be that distance. The Castro Valley Track Club organized the race and didn't place mile markers on the course. This is pretty frustrating for those running a half marathon.

I reach the dam toward the end of the race, where I suffered severe side stitches last year. (See "Buddy System", June 2008.) This year I feel very comfortable and finish in 1:37:37. This is only 44 seconds slower than last year, and I ran an easy race. I finished 14th overall and first in my age group (M40-44).

The women's winner was Nancy Morales (F44), now running with the Impalas. I remember Nancy when she won the women's US Half Marathon-San Francisco in 2004. I saw her at another race and tracked her performances on the internet until she disappeared from of the scene. Nancy dropped out of the sport after a very disappointing finish at the 2006 Napa Valley Marathon, but she's making a strong comeback. It's nice to see her happy and running so well.

When my name is announced for my award, Pam says in a voice about three octaves below normal, "WOOD-MIN-STER".

I can't let it go, so I ask her to flex her arm. I squeeze her bicep and say, "I can't compete with that."

"What do you mean?", she says. "You run with your legs, not your arms.

"True," I say, "but you need a strong upper body to balance on trails."

"Come on," she says. "Look at you."

Having no response, I laugh and say goodbye to Pam and her family. Maybe I'll see them at the Run to the Lake in Castro Valley.

John also won his age group (M50-54), 1:19 behind me. He has a four-minute lead in the East Bay Triple Crown Seniors division, named after Alameda's Joe King, meaning that he'll run Chabot, Lake Tahoe and Woodminster on consecutive weekends.

Under Pressure

2009-05-25T16:23:00.001-07:00

Today's Marin Memorial Day 10K is another Pacific Association race. As such, I have pretty modest goals. This is a lightning-fast course with runners to match, so I'd like to finish in the top 100 and run under 37:30. My greatest hope is that my club, West Valley Track Club, will field a master's team. I've never run as part of a team even though I've been a member of West Valley since 2006. We never have five runners 40 years of age or older, so my times don't get counted as part of a team score.

A few weeks ago Todd Rose indicated that we would have enough for a master's team. I called Tony Fong (M49) last week, who said he was running as well.

Excited about the team element of today's race, I should be calm and relaxed. I know I won't place in my age group, and the flat course should help my time. As I park my car, however, I feel nervous and intimidated. Everyone seems to wear team colors of some type, either race clothes or warmups, and everyone is so fit. Runners are warming up and taking sports drinks. This shouldn't be a surprise. This is a very competitive race, but I shouldn't let that affect my mind set.

I leave my car and find Tony. He's with Aaron Pierson (M46) from our team. Tony says we'll have six or seven master's runners, including Aaron. I make my way to the registration, noting that today's conditions are perfect: temperature in the mid-50s, no sun or wind, with a monotone cloud cover ensuring cool temperatures throughout the race.

As the race starts I settle down. A huge crowd in front of me fools me into believing that I'm running slow, but my first mile split is 5:40, which is normal. Around the fourth mile Maggie Visser (F40) passes me, cheered on by many of her Impala supporters. She widens the gap, and I figure she'll finish well ahead of me as she did at the Devil Mountain 10K (see "When It Rains, It Pours") three weeks ago.

Eventually I establish equilibrium with her and then start gaining. During the sixth mile I am just a few feet behind. As the end nears some Impalas yell to Maggie, "Track 100 meters ahead!", referring to the track that ends the race. I pass her, looking for the finish. Unfortunately, the track is much further than the distance given by the Impalas, and I've gone in to my kick way too early. I manage to keep my pace and even accelerate a little at the end, finishing in 37:17 (officially 37:22) with Maggie one second behind, as shown in the photo on the right.

It amazes me how close Maggie and I have been over the last three years. Here is a list of races that we have run simultaneously since August 2007:

Alameda Run for the Parks 10K, August 2007: Me (36:34), Maggie (36:40)
Across the Bay 12K, March 2009: Me (46:36), Maggie (46:39)
Devil Mountain 10K, May 2009: Maggie (36:40), Me (37:42)
Marin Memorial Day 10K, May 2009: Me (37:22), Maggie (37:23)

I don't have much history to refer to, as I didn't run track in school where I could have routinely matched up with another runner. I am closing in on 80 races, though, and there's no one whose performances resemble mine more than Maggie's.

Maggie is a much superior runner to me. Her performance places her second among women 40-44, while mine ranks 11th for men of the same age category. Maggie wins $55 and her performance is age-graded at 84%, which ranks as a national-class runner. My age-graded performance is 78%, which ranks as a regional-class runner. Eighty-eight runners finished under 37 minutes.

I'm happy with my race. I finished with my third-best 10K and fastest since 2007. I placed just outside of the top 100 at 101. My satisfaction is lessened by the fact that West Valley did not field a masters team. My time was third-best among masters West Valley, but we only had four runners. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. Even with my sporadic attendance at Pacific Association races, I'm one of the stalwarts of the team in my age group.

Later I find that my time was ninth-best among West Valley runners and as a result I'm part of our "B" team. West Valley's second team finished eighth among 12 teams. At least I'm on a team, even though it isn't the one I was expecting to join.

Can't Beat the Heat

2009-05-17T17:05:00.001-07:00

"Maybe we should take up golf," I joke to John Pettinichio.

John is keeping me company while I am getting treated for heat exhaustion after the Tilden Tough Ten. Maybe this year's race should be called the Tilden Torch Ten. We're sitting in the shade, staying as cool as possible after climbing Tilden's hills for 70-plus minutes on this 90-ish degree morning.

I must have looked pretty bad when I finished. Lake Merritt Joggers and Striders (LMJS) president Len Goldman immediately had two volunteers escort me to the chair where I now sit. A woman named Candice applied a bag of ice on my shoulders, gave me a couple of bottles of water and told me that I had stopped sweating.

It was a tough race, the hottest since my first at this event in 2000. I have salt patches on my shorts and skin where my perspiration has dried. Since this event runs simultaneously with the more famous Bay to Breakers in San Francisco, news media were full of warnings about taking precautions against the heat. Experts said to hydrate on Saturday and Sunday, but I don't think the nine glasses of water I drank yesterday or the two this morning did much besides make me pee a lot.

I didn't feel the symptoms of heat exhaustion like light-headedness and disorientation. I deliberately took water at every stop, which I rarely do in a race shorter than a marathon. Halfway through the race I think I saw 32 minutes on my watch, which seems fast, but my memory may not be clear. My final time was 71:13, so I ran the second half in 39 minutes.

Heat like this can be dangerous. Around mile eight I came upon one of the lead runners lying on the side of the road. He was much younger than I, somewhere in his 20s. I asked if he needed help, but another runner monitoring him told me that someone else had sent word for assistance.

My time was more than four minutes slower than last year, a common story for many of us. Here are the gaps in times in 2009 compared to 2008 for some notable runners:

Roy Rivers (M52): 4:13 slower in 2009
Jeff Teeters (M49): 3:47 slower
Me (M44): 4:21 slower
Jenny Wong (F33): 4:34 slower
John Pettinichio (M53): 4:34 slower

The sentiment after the race is less euphoric and more grateful that we are able to withstand these conditions, and also a bit of a reminder that we aren't professional athletes--in many cases we aren't very young either--and sometimes we have to take it easy.

As I recuperate a full contingent of public safety vehicles pulls into the parking lot. Fire vehicles and a police car provide assistance and escorts. Someone tells me a helicopter airlifted someone. I completely missed that. Maybe I'm not so lucid.

My fortunes begin to change. A volunteer hands me three raffle prizes. This is quite a bonanza since I'd never won a raffle prize in the six previous times running this race. I have prizes numbers 22, 28 an 29, and I'm trying to figure out how I won three prizes. My bib number is 298, so maybe they mixed up the digits and gave me all the combinations. I tell Karen Andrews about this, and she checks into it. My hunch is correct. Karen returns with one of the three prizes, which includes a $20 gift certificate.

One person with a better thermostat is Ivan Medina (M22), who wins the race with the first sub-60 time since 2005, 59:29. Ivan has been training around the hills surrounding Lake Chabot, where the Lake Chabot Trail Challenge will take place in three weeks. He'll be the favorite there.

Jenny Wong wins the women's race, which she has dominated more than anyone over the last 10 years. Jenny has run the race eight times this decade, finishing first or second four times each. As refreshed as she looks in this photo, even she says her legs hurt days after the race.

I never left the shade so I didn't get a chance to see the results. I find out that even though my time was my slowest since 2004 I placed third in my age group (M40-49), 13th overall. I'm fortunate because I would have placed fourth in the M50-59 caegory. This is only the second time I've won a medal out of seven races. It has been a good season so far, as I've won six medals in seven races and it isn't even summer.

I have a week to recover before the Marin Memorial Day 10K. It's a flat course and the weather should be much cooler, but I think I'll have to take a few days off and run easy.

When It Rains, It Pours

2009-05-03T11:46:00.000-07:00

"Danville, CA: 8 AM. Chance of precipitation: 15%."

I sit in my car at 7:45 AM, sheltered from the steady rain just before the Devil Mountain 10K in Danville. The above prediction from Weather.com from 6 AM didn't hold true, making this the fourth rainy race out of six this year. Prior to this year I had run 72 races since 2004, only one with significant rainfall.

Most sane people are in bed, and maybe the happier people are in church this Sunday morning, but hundreds of runners will subject themselves to a good soaking while wearing as little clothing as possible and running three to six miles.

The race is a copy of last year, with the exception of the weather, which at least kept the idiot pacer from last year (see "Guy on a Bike," May 2008) off the course. I finish in 37:40, two seconds slower than in 2008. This time I am first in my age group and ninth overall. Two women finish ahead of me in excellent performances, especially Maggie Visser (F40) of the Impalas, who won the women's race in a masterful 36:40. Usually Maggie trails me by a few seconds, includinga three-second deficit at the Emerald Across the Bay 12K in early March. In fact she thanked me for pacing her at the 2007 Alameda Run for the Parks, which I ran in a PR of 36:34. Today she ran faster than I have ever seen her, and I couldn't keep up.

I was fortunate to have a lot of good encounters at the race:

Len Goldman: The president of the Lake Merritt Joggers and Striders (LMJS) informed me at the start of the race that I just barely made it into the Tilden Tough 10 in two weeks. This is a relief as Len's blast email earlier in the week said that the race was sold out, and my check hadn't cleared. I'm as giddy as a high school senior finding a fat envelope from a college in the mail.

Karen Andrews: The coordinator of the LMJS team for the San Francisco Marathon, Karen introduced herself after recognizing me from my blog. I complimented Karen on her organization and enthusiasm in last year's race. I'd love to run it again, but my vacation plans may conflict this summer.

John Pettinichio: As promised, John delivered my brick from the Brickyard 8 Mile race a few weeks earlier. I expected him to leave it in his truck and have me retrieve it, but John carried it around the finish area in a gift bag. John could probably throw the brick about 50 yards, so I wasn't worried about him, but it was more effort than I expected.

Brian Collett: Brian finished third overall and in his age group (M18-24) in the 5K in 17:11. He's running and racing all the time, and doing very well. Brian said his job kept him from getting any sleep Saturday night, but he was still getting an adrenaline kick to keep him awake and warm while we spoke. Then he had to get to a warm place as the rush wore off.

Carol Turner and Chris Sullivan: Carol took first in her age group (F60-64) and Chris volunteered at the t-shirt booth. Chris ran a very fast 3:24:24 at the Boston Marathon in mid-April. He reports that Kelly Tarkowski (see "Buddy System" June 2008) was somewhat of a celebrity. She ran the 2008 Boston Marathon and Adidas used her photo in large posters to promote the 2009 race. Adidas compensated Kelly with a variety of running gear, including short butt-hugging shorts. We all want to see her wear them, but she assures us we never will.

Kelly Clarkson: I didn't meet her at the race, but on my way back home I found her new song "I Do Not Hook Up" on the radio. Her music is a vacuum of meaning and subtext. Green Day she isn't. "Blah, blah, something something, I do not hook up." But as I listen to her, I realize I like it.

Jeb Bush, Mitt Romney and Eric Cantor: I'm so pleased to know the GOP had a meeting and all 70 members of the party were able to fit in a pizza parlor in Virginia. The parking lot had several cars with Obama bumper stickers. Maybe next year the survivors can meet for coffee at the Palin house.

A Good Traveling Story

2009-04-20T06:20:00.000-07:00

"The world is now a poorer place. Vic Witte has left us--the people who loved him--bereft."

These are the first words from a letter that a friend of my father's wrote, and that I am to read today at my father's funeral mass. My dad died in his home in St. Louis on April 15. I planned to visit him and my mom and run the half marathon at the Go! St. Louis Marathon on April 19. My father's death changed the purpose of my trip and led me to question whether I should run. The race started at 7 AM, which meant that I'd be done with the race by 8:30 AM and back at the hotel by 10 AM. I needed to be at the funeral home by 2 PM and had no other duties before then, so I had no practical reason not to run. Having received no objections from anyone, I decided to go forward with the original intent of my trip to St. Louis.

I arrived at the race in downtown before 6 AM. The weather was rainy and I didn't have anything water repellent to wear, so I remained in the car to stay dry and rehearse reading the letter from Ted Chaskelson. I tried to disassociate myself from the meaning and emotions of the words and focus on the black print on white paper. I got through it a few times, carefully noting any unusual sentence structure. I also wanted to add a story about one of our family vacations. The story should be funny without embarrassing anyone, but I couldn't think of anything. After failing to come up with anything appropriate, I noticed that the race started in 30 minutes, so I made my way to the starting line.

The rain fell steadily and I dreaded running in the rain again. Five races this year, three of them in the rain, and this was the longest of the wet ones. As I reached the starting line, the world's best race announcer says, "Okay everybody, let's get ready for the Goooooooooooooooooooo! St Louis Marathon!"

The enthusiasm in his voice lifted a bit, and I told myself to ignore the sadness and the rain. The course headed first toward the Gateway Arch, which was shrouded in low clouds this morning. As I faced the Arch and listened to the music over the public address system, I remembered the Elton John concert I saw in 100-degree heat on July 5, 1982. I was one of 400,000 seeking a dry spot on the lawn around the Arch. Recent rains had turned the field into quagmire of ankle deep mud, and organizers selected subsequent July 4th headline acts that were less popular in order to preserve the Arch grounds.

Elton began the show 27 years ago with his stirring anthem "Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding." The song remains one of my favorite Elton John hits. Even though the lyrics have nothing to do with a funeral, there is one line that goes, "Love lies bleeding in my hands!" The song is intended to be Elton's version of what he would like to hear at a funeral. It is fast, bold and triumphant.

As I listened to the hard keyboard notes that blend with and give way to the soaring guitar riffs in the instrumental section of the song, I couldn't contain my emotions. I shielded my eyes with my right hands and began to cry.

Then the PA played Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive." During the words "Did you think I'd lay down and die?" I fought harder to keep my composure. Before any race the combination of a heavy dose of caffeine, sugar and anticipation usually amplify my emotions. I try to downplay the excitement, but now I was hoping to cope with the thoughts of my father who had left this life. I was on the verge of breaking down when I bent over at the waist and tried to block the sense of loss. I tried to shrink from the crowd so that no one would pay attention to me. A few seconds later I was able to pull myself together. I was sad, but I would make it through this race.

I shed my long sleeved shirt as the race began and within a few minutes I was drenched. I broke out with the lead runners and would see the thousands behind me at numerous points along the course, which goes out and back at several junctures. Among the beautiful things about running are its portability (I can do it anywhere.), its minimal environmental impact (No one needs to build a stadium or golf course.), and its community. Today I felt the strength of that community as runners behind me cheered me and others near the lead as we retraced our steps. I didn't reciprocate as I was preserving as much strength as I could, but I did appreciate their support.

About nine and a half miles through the race I passed a runner who grunted as he exhaled on every stride with his right foot. He was a popular local runner and spectators cheered him by name. He was working harder than me, but I couldn't shake him. I heard his breathing for the rest of the race. I finished in 1:21:36, 19th overall out of about 8,500 runners, six seconds ahead of my trailing companion.

I changed clothes in my car and went back to post-race festivities to see whether I had won anything. This is a big race, but it doesn't draw a lot of strong runners, so my chances of winning are pretty good. I made my way to the awards tent with a mylar blanket pulled tightly over my head to shield me from the rain. Results hadn't been posted, so I left the muddy grass and stood nearby on a sidewalk within sight of the tent.

A few minutes later a woman smiled after speaking to the volunteers at the tent, so I figured she received some pleasant news. I returned to the tent and saw that I placed second among masters runners, winning a great plaque and $250. I showed the volunteers my bib number and they gave me my prizes. This is a very well run event, and race director Nancy Lieberman and her crew are second to none. I vigorously shook one person's hand and thanked the everyone for working all those hours in the rain.

Results posted the next day showed that I won my age group (M40-44) of about 400 runners. The heavy breather I passed in mile nine was Bobby Williams, a 56-year-old freak of nature. I cannot imagine running a half marathon at that speed at that age. My six-second margin over him was worth $125.

*************************************************

Today I opened the funeral service with the letter from Ted Chaskelson that continues from the line that begins this post:

"Vic nourished us all, with his many gifts. His sparkling intelligence; his marvelous wit and sense of humor; his vast, enormous knowledge of music, history and literature. But most of all his gift for friendship. I have had the wonderful good fortune of knowing Vic since 1966--when I first met him in St. Louis--and of having him remain my friend all these years. Although I later moved to the Baltimore area, my wife Joan and I never lost touch with him and Toni; we corresponded regularly, and met often. Vic's friendship always meant not only delightful company, but something more. Connecting with Vic meant connecting with a spiritual gift. Vic had something very deep, and very good, inside him. And those who knew him were the beneficiaries of that goodness--that spirit--which we have now lost. He called me one of his Jewish brothers. So I now say: May the Lord bless you and keep you; May the Lord lift up His countenance upon you, and be gracious to you; May the lord turn his countenance unto you, and grant you peace."

I had recollected a good traveling story for the service, but reading the letter caused too many emotions to overwhelm me. I thought of saying the story, took a deep breath, paused, and left the podium. I couldn't do it.

After the burial we made our way to a reception. My dad had been long retired from the National Labor Relations Board, but his former coworkers insisted on putting on the reception within moments of hearing of his passing. The food and space were wonderful, and my uncle Jay and aunt Lynn suggested that I make a toast to the people who had taken on all the time and expense of hosting this great event. I would have another chance to tell my story.

When the time came I thanked everyone for coming and the hosts for their efforts. Then I began to speak:

"As you all know, my parents took us on some great vacations." I contorted my face and looked down at the floor to avoid crying. My voice trembled. "We drove everywhere, from Colorado to Quebec City." Maylee took my hand and smiled. I paused and continued, angry at myself for starting something I was pretty sure I could not finish. Suddenly the words came easily.

"You all know that my dad was a stickler for seat belts. Before automatic seat belts, air bags and child seats, Dad insisted that everyone wear a seat belt. Even in the back seat. He was way ahead of his time in terms of car safety. But there were no rules for the back of the station wagon, so on our long trips we'd always pile in the back and bounce around. As the family got bigger Dad had to come up with some innovative luggage carrying techniques. One trip he tied a big suitcase to the roof rack with a rope. The first day we had gone out a pretty long distance when we heard a few bumps from the roof and soon saw the luggage dangling outside the rear window. We kids in back were a little frightened with the suitcase clinging to the back windshield. We pulled over and had to stuff the suitcase in the car with the rest of us. On later trips Dad would rent a compartment designed to hold things on the roof. To my dad, a great lover of travel and whiskey sours."

We hoisted our whiskey sours and drank them to my dad's honor.

Those few minutes were more difficult than any race I've ever done. It was hard, but I made it.

New Legs

2009-04-05T19:22:00.000-07:00

The Martinez Brickyard 8-miler is a hilly race that I ran once four years ago. I had avoided running it since because it's 35 miles away, on the edge of what I considered a reasonable distance to travel, and because my age group is very competitive. In 2005 I finished seventh overall, but fifth in my age group (M40-49). I had beaten all the 30-year-old men, but my age kept me from competing against them. This year I think I have a better chance, especially since 51-year-old runner extraordinaire Kevin Searls has graduated from my age class. Kevin owns this race as well as a few track records from his college, but he doesn't race frequently so I rarely encounter him.

At the race I reconnect with John Pettinichio (M52) and Holly Starr (F54), who will be part of my team for the Tahoe Relay in June. John and Holly are going to be great in Tahoe, and I look forward to spending the weekend with them and the rest of the team.

Back to Martinez, the race began in a municipal park and then plunged into a screaming downhill before hitting back with several steadily climbing hills. I managed to break out with the lead pack at the start, avoiding collisions or tripping while running downhill. Once the race reached the trail it wound along a hillside with beautiful views of the Carquinez Straight off to the right. The weather was absolutely perfect, a nice change from my first three races this year.

I was running with a handful of high school runners, and two adult men including Kevin Searls. The hills were challenging, but I didn't feel overwhelmed. The climb up to the Golden Gate Bridge in the Across the Bay 12K a few weeks earl er motivated me to try something different to strengthen my legs, which were exhausted for the rest of that race and days after. The next day I tried to do a wall sit, where I assumed a sitting position with my back pressed against the wall without using a chair. That day I could hold the position for about a minute, half my usual time. I decided to do a two-minute session every day for three weeks, and it seems to have paid off.

At no time did I feel like my legs couldn't take the hills, or that I would develop side splits. My pace held up pretty well. Not everyone felt the same. While returning I saw a young woman lying on the road. She seemed calm and had assistance, so I continued past her. A few minutes later a fire truck approached me and passed me on the way to provide medical support. I learned that the runner was all right and that the fire truck rescue was a frequent event at this race.

I finish my run and feel pretty good about my chances of winning. The awards for this race are unique. Winners receive a brick with a small engraved plate. I'm hoping to get a brick, although I have no place to put any of the smaller medals I have, so this one will present another storage issue. Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Wall" and "Brick House" by the Commodores.

Results are a long time in coming. This is the first year that the Alhambra High School track team is organizing the race, taking it from the Diablo Road Runners who found it to be too much of a burden. I have strong appreciation for the Alhambra team's efforts in saving this race, but I also have a few quibbles with the race results and confusing turnarounds for the four-mile and eight-mile races. I lost 10 seconds looking back to see if anyone was following me after passing a randomly placed pylon almost four miles from the start. After waiting around for what seems to be an hour, Holly offers to get my brick if I'm fortunate enough to get one and give it to me later. I take advantage of her very nice offer, also saying that I could do the same for her. She's less optimistic than I am about winning something, but she insists that even if she doesn't get a brick, she has a shorter drive home than I do so I should be the one that leaves.

I check the results that day and see that I finished up in a time of 50:50, 6:21 per mile, seventh overall but first in my age group. Holly also finished first in her age group (W50-59), but John placed fourth, victimized by Kevin Searls and an aging pack of fast runners. Searls finished fourth overall in a time of 49:24.

Chasing Ceci

2009-03-15T21:37:00.000-07:00

This morning the internet says San Francisco will be dry and in the low 50s. I prepare myself for perfect conditions and put on my shorts and singlet with a jacket. As I drive over the Bay Bridge, a steady mist coats the windshield. After parking, I wait in line for the buses going over the Golden Gate Bridge in a slight drizzle. As you can see from the photo at left, the computer was wrong. The day is gloomy, quite imperfect for racing today's Emerald Nuts 12K Across the Bay.

I get off the bus after we cross the bridge. The weather is damp and so is everyone's mood. Every other time I've done this race the atmosphere has been full of energy. Today everyone wants to get the race over with.

The ground is too wet to stretch, so I warm up by running down the hill at the start and then back up. Race time in five minutes. We're packed together pretty tight, and then the race director tells us all to scoot back three feet. Now we're really jammed. Rain falls harder, drenching us and the course. About a minute before the race is supposed to start a muffled horn blows and we're racing.

The conditions are the worst I've run in since the Napa Valley Marathon in 2006. Wide puddles are on the course, and with about 900 runners speeding downhill they're too dangerous to dodge. In less than a minute everyone is soaked from the shoes up and head down.

The course flattens near the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge, and then winds up a long steep hill. I do this hill once or twice a year, but I am not prepared this time. I'm using every fiber of muscle in my legs, doing very well in keeping my position among the others, but it seems like the hill won't end. I've never struggled up it like this.

When we hit the bridge I feel like the race is over. I left a lot on the hill and have more than six miles to run. Waves of runners pass me, including several women. Twelve women will finish ahead of me. One of them and I will run most of the course separated by no more than a few seconds.

When I read the results that night I discovered she was Ceci St. Geme, pictured above and below in drier weather. I hardly expected this because Ceci is from Newport Beach in Southern California, and she's significantly faster than me, at least in the 5K. Ceci is an A-list personality in the California running circuit. She's an incredible runner, national high school champion in the early 1980s and NCAA champion in the 5,000 meters at Stanford. She's maintained her fitness at age 45 as the mother of six! She is also one of the most photogenic runners, and has appeared on the cover of Runners World six times.

Along the course race volunteers are encouraging her by name. I have no idea who I'm running with. She has the number 5, which indicates some sort of elite status, perhaps getting a free entry. This is a tough 7.5 miles, but at least the rain has let up. The photo to the left shows Ceci with me in the background. I'm staying behind Ceci as I don't want to get into a duel and push myself. I can't wait for this race to end.

We run along Marina heading toward Fort Mason. This is a steep but short hill approaching the finish line. Ceci is slowing down, and I follow her pace. She's laboring more than I am. At the top of the hill a promotional arch for the sponsor, Emerald Nuts, spans the path. Maybe I could pass her, but she's been pacing me for a long distance and it doesn't seem fair. Plus, had I passed her she may have outkicked me and I would have felt silly.

Ceci asks, "Is this the end?" I don't respond, but I figure she'll see for herself in a few seconds that the finish line is further away. As we reach the crest on the right Ceci glances back at me and says something I can't understand. I respond, "You're doing great!" Imagine that. I'm encouraging Ceci St. Geme.

She speeds down the hill and toward the finish line. I'm so happy this is done. Ceci wins her age group (W45-49) in 46:34 and I finish eighth in mine (M40-44) two seconds behind her. We finish 112th and 113th.

"Nice job," I tell her in the finish chute. She turns and says, "That was about a 6:15 pace, right?" Fit, fast and fast-thinking. She had the pace down to the second. "That last mile was hard," she says. To which I reply, "So was the first."

A funny incident took place before the race. Todd Rose, one of West Valley's fastest runners, spotted me and said he forgot his singlet. I offered mine, knowing that I wouldn't score for the team. He declined and couldn't fit into my size anyway, but he found a runner from Aggie RC who offered Todd a jersey from their team. Todd turned the singlet inside out to hide the Aggies logo and the Aggies runner told Todd not to sweat too much in the shirt and that the jersey would make him run faster. Here's Todd wearing the blue jersey. He finished an impressive 24th overall in 40:03, first in his age group (M35-39).

The Show

2009-03-14T16:22:00.000-07:00

I usually run races where I have a chance to win a medal, but the Emerald Nuts Across the Bay 12K is an exception. I have no shot at placing in this event, but I enjoy the race because it goes over the Golden Gate Bridge.

This very popular race is part of the Pacific Association of US Track and Field (PA/USTAF) circuit, and thus has a very fast field. The Pacific Association is the big leagues of local running. Former collegiate runners of all ages looking to satisfy their competitive urges, semi-professional runners, Olympic trials qualifiers and the odd Olympian compete. I can place in the top three in my age group in most races, but that may never happen in a PA race. I'm just hoping to place in the top ten in my group.

I haven't run a PA event since 2007, which was my fastest year. I run for the West Valley Track Club, which is one of the better teams in the Pacific Association, but hasn't fielded a masters (40+) team at an event for the three years that I've been a member. As a result, my performances are too slow to score in the open division, and my respectable masters times don't count for a team.

Even though I get no material benefit from PA races, they always provide enough competition to push me. There's usually a pack of six men and women about as fast as me, so there's no lull in the action, and I remain focused the entire way.

When I ran this race as a novice, I didn't notice all the runners wearing the same color singlets with their team affiliations. That is, I didn't notice any of them at first.

I was going through my prerace stretching routine before the race, sitting in an open space along the road. In the middle of my limbering up, a group of women surrounded me, all wearing tops with the word Impala. They weren't drawn to me, rather they were completely disregarding me. I was doing some hurldlers stretches and butterflys, and the women went on with their conversations and walked around me as if I were an ant or leaf.

I finished 351st that day, and found out the the Impalas are an elite women's team. Seventeen Impalas, probably including the entire group that nearly trudged on me before the race, finished ahead of me in 2004.

I've run this race twice since then, finishing 74th in my best year, 2007.

Blonde Ambition

2009-02-22T21:35:00.001-08:00

"We're on for tomorrow - right? I need to get there early to warm up a bit. I'm having a little issue (interior lower calf that is irritated). I am going to try to find a way to tape it. Do you know anything about these things? Don't worry - I'll be good to go - I'm a trooper.”

That email was from Jane Watson, my partner for the Couples Relay, a 10K split into two 5K legs run by coed teams. I’m looking forward to this race a little more than others, and Jane seems pretty excited too. It may be that we haven’t run together and barely know each other, or maybe it’s just that this is a rare opportunity to run a relay. I will find out that Jane is just as competitive as I am, and I think the normal psychological lift of running gets a boost when two or more people are working together toward a common goal.

I call Jane about her injury and to make race plans. Jane’s says she’ll wear a waterproof jacket made for running. I don’t even own such a garment. I’m a wimp when it comes to weather. If it’s not dry outside I run in the gym. The forecast calls for rain, which leads me to think of all the wardrobe and motivational possibilities for the race. Do I bundle up, wear training shoes and take it easy, or should I risk ruining my race shoes in the rain and go with normal race attire? Should I push myself, or accept that I’ll probably run slowly in the bad weather and just cruise around the course?

Saturday’s dry weather turns to a steady rain Sunday morning. I decide to go with the race shoes, but I’m still undecided about what to wear. I’ve got a pair of shorts under my tights, and I can choose between a singlet and short-sleeved shirt. I meet Jane and her boyfriend Paul outside the boat house at Lake Merritt. Jane says her leg is fine and she’ll be fine for the race. I tell her not to worry if she needs to hold back, but she’s pretty sure she’ll be able to go all out.

After the women start I go to my car to get ready. Some runners are wearing minimal clothing. I usually need to see just one person in shorts and a sleeveless top to ignore any chill, so when I notice some runners dressed that way I go with the shorts and singlet. The ground is too wet for stretching, so I do a quick warmup, trying to run straight through the puddles instead of adjusting my steps to avoid them. I’m not too successful. I have an instinctive reaction to try to keep my feet dry. I can’t ignore the puddles and my feet seem to have a force field that repels them from the water. Other than that, the running is comfortable. I actually find the rain pleasant, or at least different.

Paul agrees to hold my t-shirt until I’m done. Now there’s nothing to do but wait. Jane says she’ll do her leg in about 20 minutes. A few minutes ahead of her some high school girls reach the touch-off point. I then notice Steven Chavez (M50) from San Ramon getting ready for his wife to arrive at the exchange point, telling his kids to stay with Mommy when he’s running. Steven is a phenomenal runner, and unless I have a lead of a minute or two I know he and his wife will finish ahead of us.

Carrie Chavez finishes her leg and touches Steve. He’s off. Not long after Jane slaps my hand. I quickly acknowledge her effort.

“Good job!”
“You can do it, Larry!”

I take off and suddenly remember I hadn’t set my watch to track my time. Too much time sitting around, or too many distractions, I don’t know why I forgot to change it. Now I’m shuffling as fast as I can while pushing buttons on my watch. In five years of racing I have never done this, but I manage to get the watch on the stopwatch setting about 10 or 20 seconds into the race.

Jane finished in the low teens among the women, so I’ve got a few people ahead of me. I quickly pass two, and before we hit the next mile I pass another. It’s kind of fun, catching others from behind. I run the first mile in about 5:35, which is pretty good given the weather. Lake Merritt is a flat course, but contains a number of turns. The sidewalk that we run on is modestly wide, but the lake is a favorite place for pedestrians of all speeds, and numerous streetlights and trash cans narrow the sidewalk in many places. These obstacles force me to step onto the street and jump back onto the sidewalk fairly often.

About two miles in I pass Ralph Gowen and then approaching the third mile I pass a high school runner. The last phase of the course goes over a hill, which causes my heart to feel like it’s lodged in my throat. I pass the finish as the clock reads 40:14 for Jane and me.

I feel rejuvenated after the run, nothing like the post-marathon fatigue and pain I had a few weeks earlier. Several minutes later Jane, Paul and I stroll over to the awards announcements. I won this race in 2006 with Diane Dove as my partner. The next year Diane and I finished first in our age group and third overall. We didn’t receive anything for our results, and I’m not expecting anything this time.

To my surprise and delight the Lake Merritt Joggers and Striders are giving gift certificates to each age group winner! First place in our age group (combined ages 60-99) is a gift certificate to a restaurant I’ve wanted to visit, Flora. Jane and I place second, about a minute and a half behind Carrie and Steve Chavez, and 11th overall. I’m very happy with the result, but Jane is not so satisfied.

“I could run faster,” she says.

I assure Jane that we couldn’t have beaten the Chavezes, but she’s not convinced. She has a year to work at it. It’s an ambitious goal, but if she wants to try to win next year, I’d be glad to be her teammate.

Third Time Around

2009-02-02T19:47:00.000-08:00

The morning is foggier than I expected. When I last ran this marathon two years ago the weather was sunny and beach music provided its up-tempo and relaxing melodies, the perfect combination for running. Today all I see is gray with oil derricks on the east side of the Pacific Coast Highway on my right.

I run the first mile in 6:10, a little faster than my desired 6:30 pace. The course is better than before. In 2007 we hit the only hills about two-thirds through the race. We also merged with the half-marathoners about halfway through the course. This kept me from getting any water since the slower runners clogged the water stations. This year the hills are before 10 miles and we run on opposite sides of the road from the half-marathoners.

Past the hills I'm running ahead of a 6:30 pace. The field is about 1,900 runners, about twice as large as in 2007. I'm running alone, which doesn't help me maintain a pace. Through 13 miles I'm still ahead of schedule, which surprises me in one sense. When I train I can barely hold my target pace for a few miles, but when I race its effortless, at least for a while.

One element that is not going well is my race fueling. I've taken a couple of the Cliff Shot Blocks and am feeling a bit nauseous. I keep making excuses to not eat any more. "Just one more mile." "After the next water stop." "When I get out of this pack of runners," which is ridiculous since there's no one around me.

The 16th mile takes us north on the beach. We pass RVs and surfers, but I have to focus because we're hitting a slight headwind. At this point my running mechanics are faltering and the added resistance is making each step more difficult. I keep pushing, knowing that the wind will be at my back in a few miles, but I don't see the lead runners so the turnaround must be a long way ahead.

When I reach the end and turn around, I welcome the assistance of the wind, but every part of my body below the waist hurts. It's now 20 miles and I'm still on a 6:30 pace. My feet hurt, so I try to soften my steps. But I can't do it because that would require absorbing more of the impact with my thighs, which are tight and sore. I can't take lighter steps, landing more on my forefoot, because my ankles hurt.

I'm running out of gas, so I take whatever electrolyte drink they're giving along the course. Fortunately my stomach doesn't react poorly to the solution. I'm just not strong enough to keep up the pace. I slow considerably, even with the tailwind. Every change in elevation, no matter how small, is painful. The last stage of the race returns us from the beach to the Pacific Coast Highway. I can't wait for the race to end. Two guys pass me down the homestretch. My last sprint to the finish line gets me to the end in 2:53:34. My pace over the last 6.2 miles was 7:30, a full minute slower than over the first 20.

I finish 13th out of 1,977, fourth in my age group (M40-44). It's the third time in a row that I've run a marathon in 2:53. This seems to be one distance that I'm destined to not improve upon.

The race features a unique surboard finishers medal. On top of that I received a large medal and nice jacket for finishing the third leg of the California Deraming Race series. Of the three races Long Beach International was my favorite, not taking expenses into consideration. Northern California runners would do best to wake up for the 5:30 AM start for San Francisco and avoid the travel costs for the SoCal races. Between the two Southern California races, the weather is better in Long Beach, but the competition is more difficult.

San Francisco is on my calendar for 2009, and if I ever run Long Beach again, I'll try to do Surf City for the California Dreaming gifts.

If I make any adjustment it will be to run my annual marathon later in the year. Training in the dark is too bleak, and I'd enjoy the speedwork more if I'm running races instead of huffing around Alameda on my own.

PR in '09?

2009-01-31T08:56:00.001-08:00

Tomorrow is Super Bowl Sunday and my annual marathon. I race every Super Bowl Sunday to remind me to stay active on this holiday of inactivity. Winter marathons keep me motivated to train in the dark and damp months. I force myself to run most mornings wearing a headlamp and gloves. This year's race is the Surf City Marathon in Huntington Beach. Formerly known as the Pacific Shoreline Marathon a couple of years ago, the marathon's host city has branded itself Surf City, much to the displeasure of Santa Cruz, which has its own surfing heritage. To prove a point, Huntington Beach labels every possible activity Surf City something.

I'm cautiously optimistic about this race, because I emerged relatively healthy from the training. I hope to break 2:50, which would be a PR by three minutes. I use a 12-week program from Runner's World, maxxing out at 55 miles in any week. I averaged about 46 miles a week, and missed only a couple of days because of illness. Last year I reached a maximum of 60 miles a week, and stretched the program out over 14 weeks. I also missed two weeks of training with the flu and averaged two miles less per week than this year.

I was pleasantly surprised how well I performed the race pace workouts that began in early January. The pace was 6:30 per mile, and I was able to do a 4 x 2.5 mile, and 3 x 3 mile. Later I was unable to complete a 2 x 4 mile and a 2 x 3 mile. I rebounded last Saturday with a strong eight mile run at marathon pace, and felt really good about the race tomorrow.

I'll enter the race with two unknowns, which is never a good thing for a marathon. After considering several options, I decided to wear a new pair of my Boston Classic training shoes instead of buying race shoes. I figured that buying shoes for a distance that I only run once a year wasn't worth it, and I didn't feel comfortable wearing my usual race shoes for 26.2 miles. I reduced the weight a bit by cutting the instep portion from the sock liner and using only the forefoot cushion. This leaves me with my orthotics to support the rear of the foot. The other experiment is going with Cliff Shot Blocks, which I haven't used in about year for race fuel. My favorite snacks are Luna Moons because they give me the smallest aftertaste of any race nutritional supplement. Unfortunately the Alameda Bicycle shop where I buy them was out of stock early in the week and I couldn't get back before we left town.

Race prep is generally very good. We're staying at the super nice and expensive Hyatt Regency Resort and Spa, which is just across the street from the race. Maylee went to the expo with me and then played in the beach for a while. The hotel upgraded us to the Governor's Suite, which is so big that we invite Mandy's cousin Yvonne and her family over for dinner. They brought a variety of entrees from the Cheesecake Factory and some cheesecake. Maylee had fun playing with Yvonne and Richard's children, especially Miranda. After the Perez family left, Maylee lost herself in bubbles in the whirlpool bath.

Everyone is fed, clean and relaxed, and we're off to bed.

Personal Bests

2008-12-20T15:01:00.000-08:00

2008 was a very good year even though it was the first year that I failed to improve my running. The only legitimate PRs I hit were in two half marathons. Otherwise, I fell back, sometimes significantly and even feared I'd have to quit due to injury. But I was very fortunate, and the good experiences far outnumbered the bad ones. The following are my fondest memories of 2008:

1. I can run!: In the fall of 2007 through the early spring of 2008 I dealt with nagging plantar fasciitis. I don't know Latin, but the plain English description is heel pain that can include a swollen arch. At the Napa Valley Marathon I experienced both with my arch flattening from the ballooning tissue. The last six four miles I gimped home, wondering the extent of any permanent damage I caused. Two days after the marathon my podiatrist, Donald Hegref of San Francisco fitted me for orthotics. He said they would cure my pain. On my return to pick up the orthotics I brought my running shoes to test the orthotics. I was afraid he would frown on my lightweight footwear, but instead he examined a shoe and said, "Cool". His diagnosis was perfect, and If I had gone to him in the fall I could have avoided all the pain.

2. Lake Merritt Joggers and Striders: This all-volunteer group holds monthly runs of 5K, 10K and 15K, and three special races each year. They also manage to record every time and maintain an 0n-line database that goes back 11 years. They also hold a kids race 11 times a year, and to my delight entitle members to a 10% discount at Transports. My participation is limited to races, but for those with more time, LMJS hosts quarterly potlucks with excellent speakers, training runs, and fields several teams for events throughout the year.

3. Harbor Bay Club: I switched gyms in late 2007 for the nearby Harbor Bay Club. I still do the same routines as at the old gym, but Mandy takes yoga classes and Maylee swims like a sea otter. The gym features five treadmills with personal cable TV monitors, permitting me to watch what is usually the only television I can in the morning. The people are friendly and supportive and I get excellent advice from my personal trainer. The morning crowd is a lot of people in my demographic or older, doing a variety of workouts. It's very motivating to me to work out regularly knowing that I'm in good company.

4. Transports Running: Ritchie Boulet is a former all-America runner who in his 30s remains one of the best runners in the Bay Area. He also is the owner of Transports. When I was looking for a replacement for my race shoes, he spent more time than a realtor showing me prospective houses. He went through the trouble of seeking out-of-production models from my favorite brand and calling me with ideas. When I went back to see his suggestions, I noticed that for about 15 minutes he helped a casual runner find a comfortable running shoe. Ritchie ran the mile in four minutes! It was like Babe Ruth giving tips to the St. Catherine's CYO baseball team. Ritchie is married to Magdalena Levy-Boulet, the 2008 Olympic marathon runner, who shares Ritchie's running talent and incredible niceness.

5. Go! St. Louis half marathon: A great big race. Eight-thousand half-marathoners, 2,000 marathoners, and more than 100 four-person marathon teams composed in excess of 10,000 people running around St. Louis. But it felt like 300. Parking is a breeze. There were no lines at the porta-potties. Perhaps most amazing, runners actually lined up according to their pace! Imagine that, a mass of runners that understand that there's no need to crowd the starting line in a chip-timed race. The prizes go five deep in each five-year age group, and are the size of salad plates. If this weren't enough, they also hold a 5K, a kids race and a seniors race the previous day. All the activity was great for Maylee, my mom and me, and definitely worth the trip to visit my parents in St. Louis. Organizer Nancy Lieberman does an amazing job. I only saw her get flustered at the kids race when she admonished parents, including me, to give the kids enough space to run. This one is on my annual calendar.

6. Davis Stampede half marathon: A great little race. This race conflicts with the San Francisco Half Marathon, which I had run twice before. I decided to avoid the parking, city streets and crowds in San Francisco and drive 60 miles east to Davis. My hunch that the travel time was about the same was correct, and parking was easy to find. The post-race party is one of the few that offers food to non-runners, and the items go beyond energy bars and typical packaged foods. Even better, the festivities include a kids jumpy thing. I'll try to do this one in 2010 since I'm running a marathon that day in the coming season.

7. Big River Running: On New Year's Eve 2007 Brigette Schutzman, a cross country and track runner at St. Louis University, was injured in a car accident that left her in a coma for six weeks. Big River helped organize a meet of mile races for different competitive groups, followed by a pasta dinner. The event raised $8,000. I encountered Big River when I visited St. Louis for the Go! half marathon, and was a few fast runners wearing the store's singlets. I went to both locations, finding the first pairs of shorts that I liked in several years. One of the stores has the sentimental location in a house near where my mother and father grew up. Big River is one of the top 50 stores in the country and would be ranked higher here if I lived in St. Louis. Check out their web site. http://www.bigriverrunning.com/. The variety of activities includes speed sessions, running camps, and races.

8. Technical race shirts: The Napa Valley Marathon, Go! St. Louis half marathon, Tilden Tough Ten, San Francisco Marathon, Long Beach half marathon, Primo's Run For Education and the US Half Marathon-San Francisco all provided technical shirts at no additional cost. This seems to be a growing trend and one that I hope sticks as the shirts wear better and will be part of my wardrobe for years to come, much to Mandy's chagrin.

Wishful Thinking

2008-12-15T07:04:00.000-08:00

"And here comes Larry Witt (sic) of Alameda!", said Dave Rhody. "I think he's our second masters finisher."

I wish Dave was right, but I was pretty certain that at least three runners ahead of me appeared to be older than 40. It turns out that there were several, including two in their 50s. It was a fairly stacked and well-attended race, and I finished fifth out of 89 in my age group (M40-49), 19th out of 538 overall. A special benefit to me was that my mother, Toni Witte, was in town for Thanksgiving and attended the race. That's her on the left, next to my sister-in-law Kathy Doan who ran the 5K, my brother Martin, and me.

Thus ended my race season of 2008. I had a great year even though I fell short of all my goals. I hoped to win 10 medals, but won nine. If I had run one of three or four races that I avoided because I thought my chances of placing were slim, I would have had 10. Of course, there was also the disaster in Livermore. I also failed to meet my goals of 17:30 in the 5K, 36:00 in the 10K, 1:20 in the half marathon and 2:50 in the marathon.

The above times may always be out of reach, but I am very fortunate. I feared I had seriously injured myself at the Napa Valley Marathon in March, running on a left foot inflamed with plantar fasciitis. But since my podiatrist fitted me for orthotics, my feet haven't been a problem. I was able to run consistently, and my mom got to see me race twice. Maylee ran several kids races and enjoyed riding in the jogging stroller, and joining me for sprints and jumping exercises.

My wife Mandy deserves a lot of credit for being patient and supportive when my runs shift more of the family duties to her in the morning. It takes a village to raise a child, and it takes a lot of people to enable a grown man to act like one.

Now I'm in my winter marathon training phase, which involves a lot of long, dark and cold runs. It's hard to get motivated, but I'm halfway through the program in preparation for the Surf City Marathon on Super Bowl Sunday.

4 X 13.1

2008-10-20T17:24:00.001-07:00

The race season is ending and I'm trying to cram in as many as I can after not running a competitive race since early August. October is a great month for races, and the ones I hope to run are all half marathons on consecutive weeks. In running all these races I plan to put in about 30 miles during the week with no speed sessions, then take Saturday off and race on Sunday. I'm curious to see how the reduced mileage and speedwork will mix with the increased long distance racing. How well will my 44-year-old body withstand four straight race weekends?

The first race is the half marathon of the Long Beach International City Marathon, one that I've wanted to do for a couple of years. The last race is the US Half Marathon-San Francisco, which I've run three times. In between is a favorite, the Primo's Half Marathon in Danville-San Ramon, and the Livermore Grape Stomp.

Long Beach: Oct. 12. This was the most beautiful road half marathon I've ever run. The course goes over the waterfront in downtown Long Beach and through the beaches to the south. Other than some early sections around highway access roads and a part over a bridge connecting the port of Long Beach, the route was very appealing. Weather was perfect despite heavy Santa Ana winds the previous day that disappeared on race morning. The course is generally flat with the exception of the bridge. I pushed myself and met my goal of 1:21, running 1:20:45, a 6:10 pace after running the first mile in 5:35. This was my second PR in the half marathon in 2008, partly due to the Brooks T-5 Racer shoes that I bought at Transports in Oakland. I was concerned that the shoes wouldn't give me enough support over 13 miles, but my feet and legs felt fine throughout the race. The only disappointment was finishing fourth in my age group out of 261, just out of the medals.

Long Beach is also the second stop in the California Racing Series. The San Francisco Marathon and its affiliated half marathon that I ran in August is one of the other races, the other being the Surf City Marathon and half in February. I hope to run Surf City and get the medal and jacket for running all three. After the marathon, we spent two days at Disneyland.

Primo's Run for Education: Oct. 19. A cold morning greeted us at a very well run local race. Last year I received three technical shirts from this event. The freebies weren't as plentiful this year, maybe because of the poor economy.

Not long after the start, a woman sped past me listening to an iPod. I chased her and five men, but after three miles they were out of sight. I ran by myself for the remaining 10 miles, a very well-marked course. Not until the 11th mile did I see anyone else, a woman approaching a turn around after I had passed it.

My time was 1:20:53, seventh overall and second in my age group. I checked the results and found that the woman wearing the iPod was Magdalena Levy-Boulet, who represented the United States in the marathon in the Beijing Olympics. I sought her out and found her with her 3-year-old son near the medal stand. She's an incredibly nice person, like her husbank Richie Boulet, who is another outstanding runner and the owner of Transports running stores. I introduced myself to her and asked about her injury, a knee that she banged on a bus handrail in China, which forced her to drop out of the Olympic marathon after three miles. When I told her that I bought my shoes at Transports, she clapped and cheered. She listened politely as I described how she passed me early in the race and I couldn't keep up with her, but I later realized that nothing I said was relevant since I was running at full speed, and she was getting in a comfortable workout.

Magdalena, or Magda is on the right after finishing second in the US Olympic trials. On the right is Blake Russel, who finished third, and Deena Kastor, who was first.

The Primo's race was a tune up for Magda for the New York City Marathon on Nov. 2. She finished 11th overall in New York.

Livermore Grape Stomp: Oct. 26. The third leg of my half marathon trek was the Livermore Grape Stomp. I ran this race in 2005 and wasn’t impressed in the award, which was a ribbon that I quickly bent and threw away. This year’s race fit in my schedule and was intended to give me a good training run before the US Half Marathon the following Sunday. I arrived 45 minutes early to a long line for the pre-registered runners. Those who registered on the day of the race received their bibs and chips instantly while the rest of us waited single file for several minutes. This is an absurdity that some races permit, much like a restaurant immediately seating walk-ins while making those with reservations wait.

A race organizer told me that the race would start 10 minutes late due to the late arrivals. I told her that the long line at the registration table was caused by the inability to process those who preregistered. Then she told me that the race would start at the opposite end of the field from the registration tables. I joined a few hundred runners, none of whom knew the exact starting point, which organizers failed to mark. A few minutes later the woman in charge told us that the race started at the other end of the field where we were originally.

Having returned to the end of the field that I just left, I met up with Brian Collett, who was running the 10K. Brian’s a little faster than me, so I hoped to keep him in sight for a few minutes. As the race began, I chased Brian for the first mile with no one near us. I had the notion that I could win the race. Knowing that some runners might have gotten caught behind slower people at the start, I didn’t get too excited. I figured that If I was in front for two miles I’d have a good chance of winning.

Someone passed me at about a mile and a half, but he split off at the 10K turn, so I maintained my lead. I was running about a 6:05 pace through four miles and opening a lead. I figured I had the race won, with about a quarter mile lead and no one around me. The lack of people turned out to be a problem. I didn’t see any volunteers after the 10K split, and the course was extremely poorly marked with chalkboard chalk arrows on the ground the only guide. After passing the fifth mile I lost the trail. Lost in a subdivision in Livermore, I asked someone walking his dog for directions. He pointed me down the street, but still no arrows.

The race was a complete disappointment. Instead of winning the race, I was now concerned about getting home fast enough to catch a flight in the afternoon. I had no money or cell phone, and there were no pay phones. I found some arrows and followed them past some vinyards, still not certain where I was going.

I continued, still not seeing anyone until I ran for about an hour. There I followed a runner for some race, either the 5K or 10K, and reached the finish, but I think I went through it backwards. My time of 1:10 and change was achieved by skipping untold miles.

I informed the race director of my trouble. Other runners had complaints, and after the director took care of them, she told me that someone had stolen all the signs that marked the course and threw the barricades at Shadow Cliff Park into the lake. It’s a shame, but I said they could have had someone on a bike guiding the lead runner. To her credit she refunded my entrance fee plus a few dollars.

US Half marathon: Nov. 2. “Where do I go?” I yelled as loud as I could after running something like 10 miles, facing backwards, my hands in the air.

Is it really that difficult to properly mark a course? New rule: If race organizers can’t afford the signs, orange cones and volunteers to guide runners through a course, maybe they shouldn’t hold the race. I didn’t see a mile marker after the third mile, and didn’t check my watch for the last 10 miles. Why bother? I had no idea how far I had run.

At the turn around after the Golden Gate Bridge the path loops on a dirt path under the bridge. I spoke to a runner after the race who said that he and several others overshot the turn because the orange cones were stacked and lying flat on the ground.

I’ve run this race four times, and I know the route on the Marin side of the Golden Gate Bridge. I get lost after returning to San Francisco and descending to the shoreline. The course goes left toward the bridge before reversing back towards Fisherman’s Wharf. The confusion is that the half marathon merges with a 10K held at the same time. I passed the first turn and feared I was making the same mistake I did last year when I and a few others ran aimlessly toward Fort Point at the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge. That’s when I turned around and voiced my frustration.

Benjamin Cronin (M30-39) was the only half-marathoner around me, about five seconds back. He was confused like me, and we ran to Fort Point complaining about the course, before he passed me at the turn. I chased him for the rest of the race and finished ninth overall and second in my age group with a time of 1:24.

After the race Ben wondered if we had run more than 13.1 miles. I think we ran the correct distance, but I’m convinced that twice before I did not. In 2006 I completed the race in 1:22, which seems extremely fast, meaning that the course or my route was not a complete half marathon. Last year I ran a 1:25, which I felt was too slow, probably because I ran too far.

At the end of the four half marathons I had two medals and one PR, and one incomplete. I would give myself an ‘A’, a better grade than race organizers. Long Beach gets an ‘A’ and Primo’s a strong ‘B+’. The Grape Stomp served a race before its time and receives an ‘F’ while the US Half did not impress as much as in previous years and gets a ‘C’.

My legs held up well over the four weeks, and my training was very manageable. I ran about 20 miles during the week with no speed work. The races gave me enough running at maximum effort to keep up my speed. If I hadn’t gotten sick in the last week I probably would have run the US Half faster, but I’m happy with the result.

I usually end my season with the US Half, but I’ve won nine medals this year and my goal is 10. The next opportunity is the Academy of Sciences Run Wild 10K in three weeks.

Corporate Challenge

2008-09-20T17:33:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday September 17 seven colleagues from work and I were among the 5,693 participants and 259 companies completing in the JP Morgan Chase Corporate Challenge. This year my company, Standard & Poor's, had enough people to form two teams, one male and one coed. Last year Matt Reining, Paul Dyson and I were our only representatives. This year we had as many as 12 individuals who considered running, and with that level of interest the event became more than a few people running and going home. Our office purchased shirts for everyone, and we had an awards ceremony.

The photo above shows most of our team. First Row: Shannon Groff, me, Le Quach. Second Row: Rob Williams, Matt Reining, Paul Dyson, Gabe Petek. Not Pictured: Ian Carroll.

Race night featured near-perfect weather. It was a bit cool, sunny, with a slight wind. The site of the race is Crissy Field, which is just east of the Golden Gate Bridge. After checking in our gear and taking a team photo, we prepared for the start. I ran the first mile in 5:15, aided by a slight tail wind. My big concern was the middle of the race, which faces the wind blowing east through the Golden Gate. Last year I felt like I was towing a trailer, but this year the breeze was slight and I didn't slow as much. I finished the 3.5 miles in 20:42, 12 seconds faster than last year.

Following the race we held an S&P awards ceremony at Amici's East Coast Pizza. All participants received medals in various categories.

Male Team: total time 1:40:15

Ian Carroll: 26:29

Paul Dyson: 27:08

Rob Williams: 25:56

Larry Witte: 20:42

Coed Team: total time 2:08:57

Shannon Groff: 34:54

Gabe Petek: 28:55

Le Quach: 37:32

Matt Reining: 27:36

Awards:

Ian Carroll: Most Improved Player, based on his participation this year after having to miss last year's race due to a conflict.

Paul Dyson: Mr. Consistency, since he placed well in many categories but didn't surpass everyone in any particular one.

Shannon Groff: Katherine Switzer Award, since Shannon was the first woman to sign up and she along with Le were the first women in our office history to participate in the race. Katherine Switzer was the first woman to run the Boston Marathon.

Gabe Petek: Manager of the Year, since six of his direct reports ran the race.

Le Quach: Smallest Foot

Matt Reining: AAA Award, since he was the best predictor of his finishing time.

Rob Williams: Biggest Foot

Our turnout was terrific and enthusiasm was high after the race. Everyone wants to participate next year, and perhaps we'll get a few more to enjoy the event.

Olympian Thoughts

2008-09-01T20:31:00.000-07:00

The Summer Olympics were a big event in our house for many reasons. When I was young the Olympics were a big deal. Now with the proliferation of all-sports networks and constant American team sports on television, it's nearly impossible to escape baseball, football, basketball, NASCAR, and Tiger Woods, as if no other sports are worthy of attention. Years ago I could watch ABC's Wide World of Sports, with a lot of sports that you can only see in the Olympics. Now ABC shows basketball during basketball season, and women's basketball in the summer.

The Olympics show non-Americans playing sports, and sports that American networks don't follow. With NBC's heavy coverage and our DVR, we were able to catch a lot of sports that we wouldn't otherwise see. Mandy and I kept telling Maylee that the games were played in China, her home country. This usually kept Maylee's atention as long as we could talk about China, but that would end whenever the action on the TV became too compelling, or we ran out of things to say about China.

We enjoyed the coverage, and thank goodness for the DVR. We were able to record everything and fast-forward through the boring parts. My interest is mostly on the track events, particularly distance running, so I'm sure what I skipped is not the same as the general public. Mandy had a lot of favorite moments, including the razor-close Michael Phelps wins in the 4 X 100 meter freestyle relay and the 100 meter butterfly, and Henry Cejudo's gold medal in wrestling. Maylee enjoyed the gymnastics and diving, asking me, "Daddy, when can I do that?"

Amazing and unwatchable: The biggest disparity in the games wasn't the medals won by the US and Togo, but the quality in the opening and closing ceremonies. Mandy and I were completely riveted by the opening ceremonies, with each segment a masterpiece of coreography and spectacle, highlighting an element of Chinese culture. What made the performances so remarkable was that the delecate and well-timed maneuvers were performed by hundreds at a time. My favorite was the undulating boxes. How could the performers know exactly when to raise and lower themselves to make intricate forms? Amazing. I also likes the tai-chi performers. The precision of their movement and positioning made an artistic exercize form enchanting. I agree with Bob Costas. If there's a trophy for the best opening ceremony, give it to China and retire it.

In contrast the closing ceremonies were the only ones in Olympic history that I can remember being unable to watch. In the ten minutes that we had it on, a London double decker bus drove around the stadium, revealing Jimmy Page playing "Whole Lotta Love", looking like an old hippie, bored out of his mind. I love Led Zeppelin, but I have to question the choice in the song. Why not "It's Been a Long Time"? At least then we wouldn't have to wonder if the singer would go through the orgasmic Robert Plant moans. Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, David Beckham popped out of the bus. Isn't Beckham playing in the MLS? Doesn't he have a game? Did he tell his team, "Hey mates. Sorry about the bloody season we're having and the immense amount of money I'm being paid to end my career while my wife shops. I've got to go to China to kick a football into the crowd. See ya. Good luck staying out of last place." If Beckham is the best athlete the Brits can offer to promote their Olympics--even though he's not one of the top soccer players in England anymore--couldn't the organizers have him do something cool? Remember how in the Athens Olympics an archer shot a flaming arrow into the cauldron to light the torch? Why not have Beckham bend a kerosene-laced ball throuth the Olympic torch into a goal full of fireworks?

Sand in my eyes: I'm sorry, but I couldn't watch beach volleyball. Serve...bump, set, spike. It must be gthe most repetitive sport in the world. Tennis has variety in its rallies, golf is played on different courses, and even real volleyball has a lot more action. I know NBC played countless hours of the competition because the players wear bikinis, but that can only keep my interest for two and a half minutes. Why couldn't NBC show a few points, cut to something else, and come back half an hour later?

Marathon-itis: I was shocked to see the San Francisco Chronicle villify NBC for showing the entire women's and men's marathon, which the paper felt were painfully boring. I recognized a number of the women's competitors, and watched the entire race with close attention. I overheard a non-running female smoker say that she enjoyed watching the women's marathon, and a friend of mine said the same about the men's race. Is it really too much to for the sportwriters at the Chronicle to watch a race that goes less than two and a half hours every four years? They've endured counless hours of pointless Bay Area sports during that time. The women's winner, Constantina Tomescu Dita of Romania, has a history of gambling. She took a big lead halfway through the race and held on, in contrast to other cases where she tanked. It wasn't a riveting race, but one with enough uncertainty to make it worth watching. Back to beach volleyball!

Lighten Up: Jacques Rogge, president of the IOC, said of Usain Bolt's antics that "He has some maturing to do." This was in the midst of Bolt's half-week of the greatest sprinting in history. Bolt broke the world record in the 100 meters without even trying, broke the 200 meter world record a few days later and then was on the Jamaican 4x100 meter relay world record team. Amidst that string of performances, Bolt had the liberty to ham it up, pose, flex, dance and enjoy himself. Setting three track and field sprinting records in a week is unprecedented, so let the guy jump to the heavens. He probably could do it. When Brandy Chastian scored the winning goal on a penalty kick in the Women's World Cup, she ripped off her jersey to show off her sports bra. That moment remains the defining image of women's soccer. She did it after kicking a ball in a goal, something that I could do one out of three times. No way could any of us dream of the week Bolt had.

Hit the Road, Jack: American pole vaulter Jenn Stuczynski did everything possible in winning the silver medal. While the all-time best in the sport, Yelena Isinbayeva of Russia won the event with two jumps, then let the other competitors try to beat her mark while she laid under a blanket on the field. Once everyone else failed, she took three shots at the world record, breaking it on her final attempt. Post-competition interviews revealed that Isinbayeva's biggest fear was winning the gold medal without breaking the world record. Clearly outclassed, Stuczynski should be proud and praised for her second-place finish. Instead, her coach gave condescending praise for taking the silver. She walked away from him. Jenn, keep walking.

Golden Touch: The United States topped all countries with 110 medals, but China ran away with the gold medal crown 51-36 over the US thanks to dominating the diving (7G out of 8 events, 1S, 3B) and gymnastics (9G, 1S, 4B)competitions. The Chinese also won both gold medals in trampoline. The genius of it is that the Chinese have figured out that all three sports are the same. The country moves athletes from its gymnastics program into diving and trampoline. The main difference in each sport is where the athletes land after flipping. China would have won all eight gold medals in diving if its last diver hadn't missed his last dive. China is to diving what Idaho is to potatoes, Milan is to fashion and Japan is to automobiles. We probably won't hear much about the Chinese superstars in diving in 2012. They'll all be replaced with a new crop.

Missed Up: Unlike the Chinese consistency in gymnatics and diving, the US track team had its share of disappointment. Lolo Jones hit the ninth hurdle in the women's 100 meter hurdles to go from first to fourth in about one second, 1,500 meter and 5,000 meter world champion Bernard Lagat failed to medal, no US women medaled in the 100 meters, Sanya Richards faded to third in the women's 400 meters after leading into the homestretch, and with one exception the US distance runners performed to their middle-of-the-road standards despite some reasonable expectations for medals. There were some great moments, especially the US sweep in the men's 400 meters; the US sweep in the men's and women's 4 X 400 meter relays; Shalane Flanagan's bronze in the women's 10,000 meters, which caused Mandy and I to fight back tears; and Stephanie Brown Trafton's gold in the women's discus. The US won 23 track and field medals, than any other country, but the uplifting moments were rare.

When Ducks Fly

2008-08-03T20:16:00.000-07:00

"If you go to any marathon with a companion half, you probably feel sheepish admitting that you're running only 13.1 miles."

I have to disagree with my new Runner's World, which I'm reading at 4 AM on the morning of the San Francisco Marathon. I feel no guilt running the half marathon, which starts along with the marathon at the crazy time of 5:30 AM. My body has one marathon in it per year, and since I ran mine in March, I'm done until 2009. Besides, as my friend Diane Dove once told me before we ran a 5K, sometimes it's harder to run 3 miles fast than 20 miles slow.

The benefit of the East Coast start time for a West Coast race is that parking is a cinch. I get the perfect spot at Steuart and Mission, one block from the start and 40 feet from where the shuttle bus will drop me off after the race. Even with that great luck, I can't avoid the long waits at the porta pottys. The lines are moving extremely slow 25 minutes before the race, and the crowd is stretched across the southbound side of Embarcadero Avenue, making a U-turn across the street to the pottys. As the lines gets longer, the group at the back is now as close to the pottys as those in front. About 10 minutes before the race the people at the end of the line perform a nifty maneuver and simply turn around, becoming the first in line.

Such is the excitement of road racing. A few years ago I waited for the facilities at the San Francisco Half Marathon, which was overwhelmed with anxious runners. Minutes before the race 99% of us had no chance of using the restrooms, so hundreds of men and women headed for the woods to take care of business.

This year's Davis Stampede half marathon, 10K and 5K had a problem when race routes nearly caused a mass collision. The 5K started five minutes before the other races, but organizers had to change the route because of a lack of permits. The porta pottys were lined up in their usual spot along a street, with the 10K and half marathon runners stretched completely across the road. However, the new 5K route passed directly through the porta potty lines. Those of us in line looked to our right and saw hundreds of 5K runners ready to charge into us. Once the organizers realized a real stampede would take place, they halted the 5K start until we bunched on the sidewalks. We got a little closer to each other than we had planned, but no one was stampeded.

Two minutes before this race, I exit the bathroom and hurry to the start. I'm in the first wave of runners, toward the back of the pack. No time to stretch or warm up. The race begins and we run on the Embarcadero in the moonlight. As I pass runners I hear "Hey, Larry, how's it going?" It's Kenny Bright (see Buddy System, June 2008). We tell each other that we're both running the half marathon. I continue on and won't see Kenny the rest of the day, but he will play an important role at the end of this story.

The lighting on the Embarcadero is quite good, and I don't have any problem negotiating the terrain. It's flat and well-paved. The only problem I have with visibility is at Forst Mason. With few lights on the path, it's pretty dark. At least the path is uphill, so we're running pretty slow and in no danger of falling.

I'm wearing my blue Lake Merritt Joggers and Striders (LMJS) singlet, which features three ducks on the front. As part of a team of about 32 LMJS members, I'm looking for anyone else in similar clothing, but I can't find anyone. I don't understand how the team scoring is done, but it takes the top three finishers in all the races (marathon, first and second half marathons, and 5K) from each team and compiles a score. There are about 19,000 people running the numerous events, it's dark, and I'm focused on the race, so it's not surprising that I don't see any other LMJS runners.

The race continues toward the Golden Gate bridge. I feel a headwind as we head west along Crissy Field. This is a positive development, because the wind often blows north, making the southbound run over the bridge difficult. Daylight has arrived, and we hit the bridge.

The view from the bridge is not so spectacular. The day is overcast and visibility is poor. In addition the race goes along the roadbed of the bridge to accomodate the thousands of runners, which causes the early start to minimize traffic disruptions. Most races over the Golden Gate use the pedestrian walkways on the side. The side paths have several advantages. For one thing, you have an unobstructed view, assuming there's anything to see. The pedestrian paths also provide clear separation from vehicle traffic, making the run more relaxing.

As I get near the north end of the bridge the wind picks up from the left. It blows my bib so forcefully that I'm afraid my number will get torn off my singlet. I make the turnaround on the Marin side of the bridge and see a time clock the size of a shoebox that shows a time of around 49 minutes. I still don't have any accurate estimate of how far I've run so the clock may as well have read Xr:3!. The mile markers aren't the best, and I've probably noticed fewer than half of them.

I wanted to run a 6:11 pace to finish at 1:21, but I think I'm slower than that. I'm wearing my Adidas Rotterdams since I couldn't find a replacement for my usual race shoes. The Rotterdams were great in the Run to the Lake 10K three weeks earlier, but I seem to be tiring in the middle of this race. At this point I have a number of thoughts in my head. I've given up hope of finishing under my goal time, and I'm not pushing myself, but I'm content in running a decent pace over a hilly course that I don't know very well. Maybe I don't need to give an all-out effort to place for a medal, and I'm not sure I want to.

Coming back over the bridge I see Suzette Smith (see States of Mind, July 2008) going the opposite direction. We say hi to each other as we pass. We were hoping to carpool together, but had to go separately when her party got too big.

Not long after crossing the bridge we reach the 11th mile. I soon find out that the next mile features a steep decline, 11% for the first half and 4% for the second half. I run as fast as possible, letting my shoes absorb the biggest shocks I can deliver. This is the fastest 11th mile I have ever run, perhaps less than six minutes.

As we approach a hill a runner ahead of me seems disoriented. He asks the race volunteers a question and they point and say "After the hill to the right". I keep gaining on him, and see his name in small letters near his collar in back, Gill Lotem (M45). For the next two miles we'll be trading positions, with me gaining on the downhills and he passing me on the uphills. As we approach Golden Gate Park he asks me about which turns to take. The course is well-marked with volunteers and police providing directions. I tell him I don't know. He asks again, and I hold my hands up and say with some bewilderment, "Just run."

As we run through San Francisco I notice the streets are desolate and quiet. It's not the most scenic race in a lot of ways. The darkness and overcast sky turn everything gray. Of course there are no spectators on the street because they're all asleep. Gill overtakes me as we climb a hill in Golden Gate Park. I turn behind me and see that no one is gaining, so I sprint as much as I feel like and finish in 1:24:53. The time is 6:55 AM.

The post race is subdued as well. The first half marathon ends at the midpoint of the marathon, so our finish has all the essentials, but on a smaller scale. A lot of people are wrapping themselves in mylar sheets, which I ignore, changing into a t-shirt and workout pants. I take out my camera, but there's really nothing worth photographing. I enjoyed the run, and will do it again, but from a visual standpoint, it pales to the runs on the East Bay.

I am amazed that with nearly 7,000 runners in this race, I don't see anyone I recognize. As I walk toward the shuttle buses Tim Smith (see States of Mind, July 2008) yells my name. I talk to him, and soon his mother Suzette joins us. She ran the marathon last year, but we both agree that the half marathon was far enough. We chat for a while, and then I have to get home.

*************************************************

That afternoon I check the results on-line and see that I finished third among males 40-44, just behind Gill Lotem, who ran the exact same time. He took second place because he passed the finish line before me, but he finished ahead of me because he had a better position at the start. If I had just run one second faster! Actually, I'm quite happy with my finish. They had an award ceremony at 10 AM that I couldn't attend, but the web site says my award will be mailed to me in two or three months.

Getting back to my finish, I wonder if I had lighter shoes than my Rotterdams, or if I had pushed myself a little harder, maybe I would have taken second. I'm amusing myself with these thoughts.

I notice that there are team results as well. I check the coed results, and LMJS took second place to a much younger group of Stanford triathletes. I was the top finisher for us and our number two runner was none other than Kenny Bright, whom I briefly saw at the beginning of the race. Kenny's contribution, along with that of Lance Fong, helped us finish ahead of a much younger group of Cal triathletes. The three top finishers for LMJS had a combined age of 140, compared to 85 for Stanford and 80 for Cal.

Other outstanding results for LMJS runners include Suzanne Franco and Barbara McQuinn, who finished second and third in their respective age groups.

I've avoided this race because of the early start, but waking up at 3 AM isn't that big of an incovenience, at least not compared to traveling and staying overnight somewhere else. I look forward to doing this one again.

If the Shoe Fits

2008-07-13T21:15:00.001-07:00

The Eden Medical Center Run to the Lake is the first race in which I won a medal in the Bay Area. Seventeen years earlier I had begun to place in my age group and was training for a 34 minute 10K. My big race was in Rhode Island, and I ran a fast first mile before succumbing to a severe side stitch and not finishing the race. Soon after I moved to San Antonio, met my wife, and over the years moved to Boston and then to the Bay Area. I ran casually during that time but didn't return to competitive running until my terrible finish at the 2000 Tilden Tough Ten (see Above the Clouds, May 2008) and later in the summer of 2003.

I resumed consistent running the following January and entered races to motivate me. My times were respectable and showed steady improvement. Finally I placed second in the M35-39 age group at the Run to the Lake, a fortunate finish since my 42:40 wouldn't have placed me in the M40-45 age group. I was so encouraged that I entered the San Francisco Marathon three weeks later and barely qualified for the Boston Marathon.

The Run to the Lake has many of the characteristics of a big race even though it's mostly local. The medals are the best I've seen for a smaller race, with different designs that match the t-shirts every year. RhodyCo manages the race, so it's well organized with mile markers and water stations. The event also features a large post-race expo that rivals those of larger events.

Today's weather is unusually cool, and I decide not to wear sunglasses for the first time at this race. My bigger decision is which shoes to wear. I feel that my racing shoes have lost their bounce, and had hoped to replace them. I bought the Adistar Competition last year, but since have learned that manufacturer, Adidas, no longer makes them. I'll have to go to Transports for a fitting.

I haven't had a chance to visit the store, so I'm considering wearing a pair of Adidas Rotterdam shoes, which are two ounces heavier than my usual race shoes. I wore the Rotterdams for the Napa Valley Marathon in March and haven't worn them since.

I've worn Adidas almost exclusively over the last four years. The only exception is a pair of Solomon trail shoes that I received for running the Pacific Shoreline Marathon--a great and discontinued premium for all finishers--that I wear for the Lack Chabot Trail Challenge half marathon. I tried a couple of other brands, but quickly developed blisters and scrapes. After wearing out a pair of Adidas, I went to a running store for a fitting. I tried several pairs and found that the Adidas Boston Classic was the best training shoe for me. Like Coke Classic, Adidas has decided to keep making the Boston Classic without changing them. This is good for me because I go through eight pairs a year. Last year I bought racing shoes for the first time, and after trying a few brands at Transports, purchased the Adistar.

After arriving at the race, I test the Rotterdams by running a couple of miles. They seem fine, but the left shoe is tight. I take the sole insert from my lightweight racing shoes and substitute it for the Rotterdam's and voila, it feels great.

The race begins with a steady climb up Lake Chabot Road. I look around me and only see Mark Ramirez (M52) near my age group. Mark finished ahead of me at the Devil Mountain 10K (see Guy on a Bike, May 2008), but he's running behind me. When we reach Lake Chabot the 5K runners continue straight ahead while those of us running the 10K make a right turn. After the turn I notice that everyone over 30 has gone straight ahead, so it's just me and a few high school runners.

The course gets more interesting. We run by the marina where it's flat near the shore. Then we take the paved path that ends the Lake Chabot Trail Challenge half marathon in the opposite direction. The path has rolling hills, and then we climb a gravel path in a gut-busting surge away from the lake to the road high above. A right turn takes us to the turnaround.

I'm chasing Derrick Thomas, a 17-year-old from San Leandro. Toward the fifth mile we're running down Lake Chabot Road, one of my favorite stretches in road racing. This is the reward for pushing on the first half of the race and the hills around the lake. On our right the 5K walkers encourage us. A small girl is zigzagging through the orange cones separating the 5K and 10K races. I barely avoid colliding with her, and her mother shouts at her to stay to the right.

I pass Derrick and hold the lead for a few seconds, but then he responds and reclaims the lead. He finishes seven seconds ahead of my time of 38:56. I run 21 seconds slower than last year, but still win my age group (M40-44) and finish seventh overall. The oldest runner who finishes ahead of me is 23, my buddy Brian Collete.

My bounty for winning includes two identical first-place medals, one for my age group and one for being the first masters (40 and over) runner. I also receive a box of 15 Powerbar Nut Naturals.

The shoe experiment went well, but I'm curious how well the shoes will work if I use them at the San Francisco Marathon half marathon in a few weeks.

States of Mind

2008-07-04T19:50:00.000-07:00

“Daddy, why does your shirt have a ‘V’ and a ‘W’?"

My daughter Maylee has transposed the WV on my singlet that represents my competitive running team, the West Valley Track Club.

“What’s West Valley?”, asks Maylee.

“It’s kind of a state of mind.”

West Valley, or WVTC, is the oldest running club in the Bay Area. In its early days the club organized the first Pacific Association runnning events, welcomed into its ranks Alvaro Mejia from Columbia, who partly credits his win in the 1971 Boston Marathon to his training with WVTC, and started a newsletter, which became the Pacific Association bi-monthly magazine.

West Valley is somewhere in the South Bay region of the Bay Area, although the club has its largest number of runners from San Francisco, where the team trains every week. I have hardly heard of the region West Valley, so I can't describe it. I'm sure it exists, I just don't know where.I arrive at the Mayor's Fourth of July RACE around 9 AM for the late 9:45 AM start. This is a small race in Alameda, but one of the few that has a significant stadium presence. The 5K precedes the parade, so there's a nice crowd lining the street. The photo at right shows Barbara Korp and her daughter Amy, along with my daughter Maylee and her friend Sophia, Barbara's older daughter. They're watching the parade, but they arrived too late to see the race.

The RACE always gives me a chance to connect with Alameda runners that I see on the paths and strets of the city. I’m expecially excited about the chance to meet Joe King, world record holder in the mile for males 80 years or older, 7:13. He’s competed locally and internationally for nearly 70 years. Joe has a column in one of the Alameda newspapers, and I’ve read it for eight years. His columns cover a variety of topics, but I always look forward to his running columns. It’s like free coaching. Joe is an inspiration, running all his life, and having the East Bay Triple Crown trophy for men 50 and over named after him. I’ve read about Joe, seen the trophy with his name, and logged thousands of miles in Alameda, but I’ve never met him.

The photo to the left is courtesy of Ed Jay, is for use only by this web site, and may not be reproduced in any form.

I approach a man who appears to be in his 60s, resembling the photo of Joe that appears in his column. I introduce myself, and Joe tells me he owes $2,000 to a woman with my last name from the USO who taught him how to dance during World War II. He says he’s been a popular dance partner ever since, and he owes is all to Diane Witte, which happens to be my sister’s name. My sister was born in 1967.

He tells me his mile record is vulnerable because it’s slower than the world indoor record. Joe’s accomplishments include a few world records and probably numerous medals in international competition.

I tell him that I’ve read his column for years and started running four years ago.

“Four years ago? You look like a runner. How fast are you trying to run today?”

“18 minutes.”

“How old are you?”

I’m 43, and he says, “Just a kid!”

Joe tells me that he used to run for West Valley, and takes off to warm up. What a great moment for me. I had a chance earlier to catch up with some friends. The photo on the right shows Tony Fong, Neil Rodrigues and me. Neil was the Alameda high school co-athlete of the year in 2006 and now runs for St. Louis University, the alma mater of my parents and most of my aunts and uncles. Go Billikens!

Tony is the track and cross country coach at St. Joseph's High School in Alemeda, a former Cal runner, and the person who recruited me to run for West Valley. He's a great ambassador for the sport, and can always predict my finishing time within a minute and compute the accompanying pace in his head. He even remembers my times from old races, even though I'm not one of his runners.

Next to me is Suzette Smith, whom I'd run into around Alameda for years, although I never spoke to her until the Mayor's RACE two years ago. I see Suzette running on Bay Farm Island quite frequently, and also on the main island as I commute to work. Suzette places in a lot of races and qualified for the 2008 Boston Marathon. She also helps Tony coach at St. Joseph's, where her son Tim runs. Suzette and I were scheduled to run the Lake Merrit Joggers and Striders Couples Relay this year before I caught a cold. I was very disappointed, but she ran the race with her son and they both had a good time.

I change my preparation routine for this race. I decide not to eat an energy bar and drink iced tea, and instead focus on doing a real warm up. I run slowliy for 15 minutes and then do a 30-second stride (wind sprint), rest and then do a 45-second stride. I ask Niel what time he's aiming for. Last year he was nice enough to pace me, helping me hit a PR of 17:45 as seen on the right. He says he hasn't done a lot of speed work recently, so he doesn't know how fast he'll run.

The photo above is courtesy of Ed Jay, is for use only by this web site and may not be reproduced in any form.

The race is too short and has too few runners for any drama. At the start a pack of high school runners sprints in front of me, but I overtake most of them in the first mile. I pick off a few more as the race continues and no one passes me. Neil is nowhere in sight. The weather is overcast, keeping me comfortable as I cruise to a finish of 17:54, first in my age group and eighth overall. I catch up with Neil as I get a cup of water. Neil gives me the "number 1" sign, winning the race in a time of 16:26.

The photo below is courtesy of Ed Jay, is for use only by this website and may not be reproduced in any form.

As we wait for the results to be announced and medals to be distributed, I see Suzette (3rd F41+) talking to Jane Watson (2nd F41+), pictured at right. I've never met Jane and she compliments me on my singlet, saying that her father is from West Virginia. Suzette and I laugh and I tell Jane that the WV is for West Valley.

"What's that?", asks Jane.

"I don't know. It's not a place like Chicago. It's kind of a state of mind."

A few minutes later someone else approaches the three of us and asks if I'm from West Virginia.

We all laugh and Suzette jokes, "We have to tell Tony about this."

I pick up my medal, which indicates that I won the male 41 and over category. This is the only race where 40-year-olds don't catch a break and compete with older runners. The age groups are 18 and under, 19-40 and over 40. It irked me so much a few years ago that I drove to San Ramon to run in a Fourth of July race with more reasonable age groups. I didn't have any hope of competing with college runners when I was 40. I'll keep running this race until I become too old to compete with the younger 40ish runners, like Guillermo Cazares (2nd M41+), pictured to the right of Tim Smith.

Older runners share my complaint. A world-class 80-year-old like Joe King has no chance of running faster than me. The race needs more age groups, and more runners to fill them. The best way would be to post the race on the main web sites, like http://www.runningintheusa.com/. This is a simple web site that has all the major races and results. The only way I know about the Mayor's RACE is from the flyer they send to runners of past races. If organizers want to get more runners they need to seek people outside of Alameda.

This is the first in a nice progression of races. Next week is a 10K followed by a half marathon three weeks later.

Buddy System

2008-06-08T16:41:00.000-07:00

"Are you ready for this monster?"

John Pettinechio's question hits me like a bucket of ice water in the face. Thirty minutes before the Lake Chabot Trail Challenge Half Marathon on June 1, John is not exagerating, but the shock lingers. "Do I really want to do this?," I ask myself. I'm not a trail runner. I have tried to register for Dipsea, but I've never won the lottery to enter, and the thought of running Double Dipsea or Dipsea Quad is so foreign I might as well swim the English Channel. You won't see me on at Badwater or Western States 100. Running long and relatively fast on the most accomodating courses is hard enough for me, and the running best suited to my training in Alameda. I am in the red top and black shorts on the left side of the group in the photo above. The tall guy I'm talking to is Alex Coate.

Lake Chabot is the hardest race I will run this year. Runner's World has listed it as one of its five races of the month at least twice in the last five years. I've run it every year since 2004, and along with the Tilden Tough Ten, I consider it one of my two can't miss races. Unlike Tilden, Chabot is almost all trails. Like Tilden, Lake Chabot is one of the East Bay Regional Parks, and another amazing place in the middle of the Bay Area. Great for hiking, fishing, boating, and picnicking, Lake Chabot Regional Park encompasses a huge amount of land beyond the lake and countless trails for wandering and getting lost in one's thoughts and surroundings. The first year I ran the race, I tried to prepare for it by following the course directions posted on the Golden Bay Runners web site. I did my longest trail run ever that day, getting lost and stumbling upon a Boy Scout Troop, retracing my steps a few times, draining my water bottle and luckily finding a kind woman on a horse who gave me some water and pointed me in the right direction.

My PR on this course is 1:34:56 in 2007, and I'm hoping to come within two mintues of that today. The race hits the hard section in the fourth mile, when it reaches the Loan Oak Trail. It's the only trail I can name on the course. One mile with a 600 foot incline, an 11% incline. I see a few runners ahead of me slowing down. That probably means they don't know what to expect. I pass them up and see Ralph Gowen on the top of a hill. "This is the top, Larry," he jokes. "It's just a bump," I reply. A runner next to me looks at me like I'm kidding, but I'm not.

I felt I had to focus on hill training after Tilden. I did four hill workouts in the prior two weeks: one run toward some mountains when I was on a business trip in Tucson; pushing Maylee in the jogging stroller on the eight paved miles of Tilden; and two "Challenging Hill Workouts", a treadmill routine on the Runner's World website. I keep running for what seems like forever, but my pace is barely faster than a walk. I decide to walk, then run, alternating as long as I don't lose any ground to anyone in front.

From behind I hear John. "Good strategy, Larry. You're saving yourself for later." It's not so much strategy as my lack of strength. John remains behind me and the thought enters my head. Should I aim to stay with John the rest of the race, or should I run on my own? Last year I chased John for 10 miles on the trail before passing him on the paved section and finishing one second ahead of him. Now we're going the same speed, with me running a few feet in front.

We work pretty well together. As the race progresses, we're ahead of last year's pace, which was a breakthrough performance for us. John is much more relaxed than I am, saying hello to hikers and cyclers on the path. I pass Robert Silva (M37) somewhere around 10 miles, and feel pretty good. A few hills and turns later, and I descend to the dam that forms the lake. It’s all paved until the finish, and I should be able to pick up some time from this point. Just as I try to run faster, one of my chronic problems on this course returns—side stitches. A combination of the heavy exertion and the steep downhill stretches that jostle my abdomen have always given me side stitches in this race. This time it’s worse than I can ever recall. Both sides hurt, and my whole gut is in pain. I slow down along the dam, and upon reaching the other side I slow down further as the course elevates.

When I hear John approach I say, “Go ahead, side stitches.” But John won’t leave me behind. “Come on, Larry, you got it.” I wave with my left arm for him to pass, but he won’t go. I know he won’t leave me behind, so I push myself. The next three miles I am the beneficiary of the buddy system. We pass mile 11. John claps his hands twice, “Just two more miles.” I can barely respond with more than a monosyllabic phrase. John keeps encouraging me as we pass the 5K turnoff. “Almost there.” I believe him, forgetting the wide turn to the right away from the lake. I groan inside as we take the turn that goes slightly uphill.

Then we hit another flat space and I can see the marina in the distance. The race finishes just past the marina. We have one more climb. “Last hill, Larry,” says John. We go up the hill and run side by side. As we pass the 13 mile mark, someone shouts, “We’ve got a race!” Actually, it’s an anti-race. Neither of us wants to go in front of the other. We speed up as we approach the end, and my breathing becomes labored, so I slow down. “Keep going, Larry. Don’t let anyone pass you.” I look behind us and see that someone passing us won't be a problem. The finish line is just in front and I am adamant that John finish ahead of me. I slow down, but John realizes what I’m doing and insists that I go first. I tell him to finish ahead of me, but he won’t, so I complete the race in 1:36:45, one second ahead of John for the second year in a row.

In 2007 we hugged at the end because we were so excited with our times. This year we hug again out of exhaustion. John thinks that without the side stitches we would have matched our times from last year. He may be right. The previous two weeks I experimented with my training, not doing any pushups or abdominal exercises because I was concerned about bulking up too much. I won’t try that again. The weakness in my abdomen may have made me more susceptible to side stitches. I finish third in my age group, 13th overall.

Post race I see John administering first aid to Kelly Tarkowski (F40), whose right knee is bleeding. A few minutes later I check in on her and see that both knees are pretty badly scraped. Then she shows me her two elbows and both hands, all of which are the result of a perfect six-point landing she executed on a downhill section of mile 10. In one of the great stories of the race, she managed to recover and place third in her age group. Here's Kelly, Chris Sullivan (M51), Deanna Stemm (3rd F45-49), John (1st M50-54) and Kenny Bright (M48). A lot of medals from that group.

One of my favorite scenes in the running is the award ceremony for this race. Usually awards are given in a parking lot while music is playing. Lake Chabot is much more serene. Everyone rests on a hillside, enjoying the sun and surroundings. Music would be a distraction.

I get my award when my name is called. The presenter says the nicest thing I’ve ever been told while picking up an award. “We’re honored you’re here,” They’re not paying me an appearance fee, but I guess they remember me from past years. The awards and shirts always feature wildlife at the lake. The previous four years the animal has been a bird of some sort. This year it’s a tortoise. I love the irony.

Above the Clouds

2008-05-18T15:14:00.001-07:00

Today I make my annual pilgrimage to the Tilden Tough Ten. When the starting siren goes at 8 AM in the hills of Tilden Park, high above the urban core of the Bay Area, 65,000 people will simultaneously begin a cross-city journey in San Francisco’s Bay to Breakers. For many, an avid runner like me should run Bay to Breakers every year, but I’ve never done it. I’ve run Tilden more times than any other race. It was the scene of my worst race ever, and one of my best. I have too many memories and too many friends to miss this race. It is both serene and grueling, at least for me. I look forward to it every year, and I’ll run it as long as I feel fit.

The morning temperature is in the high 40s in Alameda as I drive to the race, a most comforting development as a record-setting heat wave brought 95 degree temperatures to San Francisco on Thursday. Tilden is difficult enough in good conditions, and I don’t welcome any additional complications. The fog hides the Berkeley hills in the distance. As I close to within a mile of the hills, I can’t see anything above 100 feet. I’m hoping this means cool conditions, maybe even mist. When my car climbs the hills toward Tilden, sunlight breaks through and the temperature rises to 56. Continuing along, I see why it's warmer. A blanket of fog has split the hills like icing in a layer cake, and Tilden is the top layer. What a glorious scene, although I’d prefer clouds and cooler temperatures. Tilden remains one of my favorite places, and I am grateful and amazed that this beautiful, remote and serene place is so close to where I live.

With U2’s Achtung Baby in the CD player, I continue until reaching the race site. Len Goldman, president of the Lake Merritt Joggers and Striders (LMJS) and runner extraordinaire, greets me and tells me that this year’s race is a near sell out. The race only has capacity for 300, but it’s usually a strong field. LMJS puts on a great race, and the club is the only one that I know that keeps a searchable database on every race result by every runner since 1997. Want to know how fast Magda Lewy, the second-fastest woman on the 2008 US Olympic marathon team, ran the Tilden Tough Ten in her only appearance? Check out the website: http://www.lmjs.gwebservice.com/ .

LMJS organizes three special races each year and two or three more casual runs each month except February. That’s 30 races a year, with more than a thousand results. If you look up Larry or Lawrence Witte, you will find my following results for the Tilden Tough Ten:

2000: 94:37, 95th overall, 24th in age group
2004: 76:08, 70th overall, 21st in age group
2005: 68:39, 27th overall, 9th in age group
2006: 67:42, 15th overall, 5th in age group
2007: 64:30, 3rd overall, 2nd in age group

In 2000 I had restarted a running hobby and discovered this race in the Berkeley hills. That year the Tilden Tough Ten became my first Bay Area race, and almost my last. My training was not technical, but I was running frequently and in the hills near our apartment south of Oakland’s Rockridge area. I had biked the Tilden route, so it was familiar. Two elements caused me great difficulty. The Friday before the race temperatures soared, and my run after work that day was exhausting. It remained hot over the weekend. At the race I ran the first half in 35 minutes, but discovered that the hilly paved part of Tilden is just an appetizer for the trail portion, which I had never run. This was the second surprise. Sweating heavily and drinking two cups of water at the turnaround, I asked a volunteer if the return was as difficult as the first half. She must have thought I was delirious. The second half retraces the first half, so each half is pretty much the same. As the sun baked the ground and the air around me, I slowed to a walk, then a stagger, and then a stop. Everyone seemed to pass me as I completed the second half in 55 minutes, finishing the race in an hour and thirty minutes.

Disappointed and discouraged, I cut back my running and didn’t run in another race for three years. Then in 2004 I returned to Tilden and finished in under 80 minutes. Elated, I continued running and haven’t stopped.

Tilden is the first jewel in the East Bay Trail Challenge Triple Crown. I’ve done well here and at the Lake Chabot Half Marathon Challenge two weeks later, but not so well at the Woodminster Run on Father’s Day. The photo at right shows me, Gareth Fong, who organizes the Woodminster race, and Len Goldman. John Pettinichio (M52) won the seniors Triple Crown in 2006, as did my friend Holly Starr (F53), below left, who won it in her first year of competition, 2005. I first met Holly at the Martinez Brickyard run in 2005. It was her first race, and when she told me her time in the 4-mile (30:10), I knew she won her division. She went on to handily win the Ruth Anderson Cup (50+ age group) in the triple crown in her first year of competition. Jeff Teeters (M48) is a regular high finisher as well, winning the open triple crown in 2006.

As we line up Jeff, pictured at right, mentions that this year’s field is fast. I have regressed with injuries and limited racing action, so my aim is to finish in 66 minutes. My strategy remains the same as last year, when I noticed that Jeff always finished ahead of me even though I started faster. I decided to stick behind Jeff for the first three miles and then try to keep him within sight.

The race starts and I’m among the first 10 runners for a significant stretch. The first mile passes in 5:50, a good pace since the race begins in a downhill. The second mile is uphill and I manage to keep my place behind Jeff, but it’s a chore. I’m breathing heavily with 80% of the race to go. As we continue, Jeff and the other lead runners pull away. Last year I finished third overall, but not in 2008. At the third mile Rebecca Yau (F21), below right, a newcomer on the Bay Area running scene, glides by me. At one point we come upon some cows, which scatter as we run by. About three and a half miles into the race I see the steep climb to the left. The photo shows the incline behind the electrical tower. The return on this section will be very refreshing, but that won’t be for another two miles.

“The first four miles of hills weaken you for the next two miles”: ancient proverb etched in a clay pot found on Tilden.

The fifth mile of Tilden is an undulating trail, rutted by cow hooves. This is the portion of the trail that surprised me in 2000 and usually determines the winner. After climbing up the first hill, I remember why this part is so difficult. The hills are hard to climb and treacherous to descend. I have to brake going down, giving me no advantage on the downhill. I manage to stay upright, but the terrain is difficult for someone who trains exclusively on the paved paths of Alameda and treadmills.

As I reach the turnaround, I see Alex Coate (M47), pictured at left, about 20 yards behind me. Alex is stronger and passes me on the first hill back. Since Alex and Jeff are in my age group I know my chances of placing in the top three (M40-49) are remote. There seem to be several masters runners ahead of me. I can see a long string of runners trailing me going to the halfway point. I mostly keep my eyes on the road, but I do say something encouraging to Holly, who’s looking pretty good. I manage to reach the top of the last hill without slowing to a walk, which is more than I did last year. Still I’m running a noticeably slower pace than in 2007. I take the downhill at mile six easy, too tired to accelerate and make up lost time. A runner making his way up the hill says I’m 12th overall. I’m amazed that he has the mental dexterity to count runners while negotiating the course.

Meanwhile, all I can determine is that Jeff is nowhere in sight, Rebecca is off in the distance, and I can’t see Alex. The weather is warm. Perfect for a picnic, going for a walk, playing outside or just relaxing. Perfect for anything except running at full speed for three more miles of hills. My finishing place is irrelevant, but I am still hoping to break 70 minutes. This would be 5:30 slower than 2007, but at least I’d get a sub-70 minute shirt. The Tilden Tough Ten features a great marketing scheme. Anyone who finishes under 60, 70 or 80 minutes gets a race shirt indicating that achievement. Rarely does anyone get a sub-60 shirt.

Two more runners pass me. I check my watch and see that I should finish in under 78 minutes: good enough. I see the parking lot by the starting line, about a mile and a half away. Nearing the end I misjudge the finish and sprint early. I know the end is near, so I try to maintain my speed. Soon I approach the finish line and complete the run in 66:52, seventh in my age group. I feel really good about it. I’m just 52 seconds slower than my goal, and I posted my second-best time on the course. Given the trouble I had with the hills and my relative lack of fitness to last year, I’m satisfied with the run.

My concern is the Chabot Trail Challenge in two weeks, which features more and steeper trails over its 13.1 mile course. I need to do some hill work to minimize the pain of that run.

I finished 13th overall. Jeff was third in an excellent time of 63:04, his best performance since 2005. Cliff Lenz (M43) was the top finisher in 60:04, just missing a sub-60 shirt. Second went to Phil Rivers (M53) in 62:39, an amazing performance that is age-graded to 81% on a very tough course. Pictured next to Cliff at the right is Jenny Wong (F33), a perennial high finisher at all the triple crown races and winner of the women’s open crown several times. Jenny finished third this year among women, her 7th straight top three finish at Tilden. She and Cliff run for New Balance Excelsior, and her dog Bender is currently unaffiliated. John finished second among males 50-59 and Holly finished third among females in the same age group.

The post-race spread is excellent. LMJS has mini Lara bars, my favorite. There’s also a masseuse, bagels and beverages. To top it off the shirts are made of a technical material that looks sharp and should keep its color. The weather was pleasant, although a little hot. The scenery was great, even featuring a deer before the race. Even though I didn’t do as well as last year, I think this year’s Tilden Top Ten was the best ever.

*************************************************

All action photos provided courtesy of Lake Merritt Joggers and Striders.

Guy on a Bike

2008-05-04T11:15:00.000-07:00

"Stand behind the white line, this is a certified course!" Dave Rhody said through the bullhorn. Dave gave us all a laugh, as if someone's toe on the line would make a difference. Dave is the owner of RhodyCo., a race management company. RhodyCo runs six races in the Bay Area, including some big events such as the Across the Bay 12K and the San Francisco Half Marathon. He does a great job, and I wish he'd do more events. His races always have markers at every mile, start on time, and distribute medals efficiently.

The weather was cool and we were all ready to get started. I didn't do any warmup other than jog from my car to the starting line. I spoke to a couple of friends before the race. First was Guillermo Cazares, who's about my age and lives in Alameda. Guillermo's restaurant, El Caballo, is a shrine to running. Medals and plaques are lined below the ceiling around the entire restaurant. I was always impressed by Guillermo's accomplishments, but never met him at the restaurant. Last summer we met, and I've since seen him at numerous races and running around Alameda.

My other friend was John Pettinichio (M52), whom I've known longer than anyone in the Bay Area running scene. I first noticed him in 2004 at the Eden Medical Center Run to the Lake. It was the first time I won a medal, and John placed as well, as he usually does. I was struck by his conditioning. The guy is really solid. The next year I started finishing near him, then ahead of him, and then I became even faster. What impresses me about John is that while we're fairly close in terms of fitness, he's nine years older than me. This day John would run the 5K, finishing tenth overall and first in his age group, and then do the 10K as a cooldown. I hope that when I'm in my early 50s I can still run somewhere as well as John.

The race exhausted me, but the end result was positive. I needed a 5:58 pace to break 37 minutes. I felt pretty good running the first mile in 6:02, since I tend to start too fast. But I finished mile 2 in 12:30. By the third mile I was running a 38:30 pace. I was slowing down. The first half of the course is slightly uphill with one pass over a highway. Since the course follows a highway, there's a lot of open space with no protection from the wind. As my projected time kept increasing, the course's incline and the wind seemed more daunting. In front of me were Mike Maguire (M45, pictured at right) and Emily Bates (F31). They had a pretty good duel and didn't separate for the rest of the race. I figured I had no chance to catch them.

We made the left turn over the highway overpass and then went left along the Iron Horse Trail back to downtown Danville. The second half of the course goes downhill and with the wind. With the wind at my back and the race going on a slight downhill, I regained some speed and my confidence. About four miles into the race Mark Ramirez (M52) caught up to me. Mark ran a heck of a race, but a race volunteer riding a bike wearing a yellow jacket was pacing him and bugging me. "Go Mark," "You got him, Mark." "Stay relaxed, Mark." To make matters worse, Mark and I were gaining on Mike Maguire and Emily Bates. The four of us were crowded on a narrow path, with the guy on the bike keeping pace. "I'll get out of the way," he said. The only problem was that there was no where to go, leaving four runners exerting themselves while trying to avoid each other and a guy taking a liesurely ride on a bike. After waiting for him to get out of the way, I had to move ahead of Mike and Emily, along with Mark.

Mark passed me and maintained a lead. With less than a quarter of a mile to go I sped in front of Mark, causing the guy on the bike to say, "He's making a move, Mark. Sprint!" Mark responded and I couldn't match him. He finished in 37:33, and I was next at 37:38.

I was pretty happy. The race results were surprisingly slow to come out, easily the longest wait for a RhodyCo race. There was some glitch with the age breakout or something that caused us to wait 30 minutes or so after the race. Ultimately, everything turned out well for me. I placed 12th overall but first in my age group, M40-44. Had I been in the M45-49 group I would have finished fourth, which is where Mike finished. It was a fast master's field, with five of the 11 who placed ahead of me being older than 44.

While waiting, I had a chance to chat with Jeff Gehringer (M23) and Brian Collett (M23) both from Pleasanton. Jeff, on the left in the adjacent photo, placed fourth overall and first in his age group, and Brian, next to Jeff at right, finished ninth overall and second in the same age group. I first noticed Jeff at the Davis Stampede Half Marathon in February. John introduced me to Brian at the same race. Jeff ran for Cal State Hayward, and still trains with the team. Brian has been an active runner for a few years and is closing in on his 50th medal.

Before leaving I was able to visit with Ralph Gowen (M47), who ran the 5K. Ralph runs for the Forward Motion Racing Club, has qualified for the Boston Marathon and was photographed in Runner's World in a recap of the Bay to Breakers. Ralph is one of my biggest fans, or at least someone who cheers me on. Every few races he'll yell something like, "It's all downhill, Larry, just stretch it out!" He even popped up at the Napa Valley Marathon in March.

My next race is in two weeks, the Tilden Tough Ten. This race has a lot of significance to me.

Day before a race

2008-05-03T16:59:00.000-07:00

It's the day before a 10K, the Devil's Mountain Run in Danville, CA. It's a fairly flat course where I set a PR two years ago, twice improved on since then (36:34 is my current PR). I'm hoping to break 37 minutes as I've been recovering from plantar fasciitis and had to take three weeks off following a marathon in early March. Since then I ran a half marathon three minutes slower than my PR, and then resumed normal training, which has gone well. I feel very good and pretty fit. If this race were in the midst of a few others I'd be more optimistic, but having missed three races this year because of illness or injury and having done one race in February, March and April, I don't have my normal confidence in terms of predicting my finish.

Being the day before a race, I'm cutting back all exercise. No running, pushups or swimming. This afternoon I took my daughter Maylee to the pool, and just carried her around in the water while she swam. Now that you know one person in the household, the other person is my wife Mandy. You'll get to know more about Mandy and Maylee later.