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.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
Wishful Thinking
"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.
Monday, October 20, 2008
4 X 13.1
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.
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.
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.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Corporate Challenge
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.
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.
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
Coed Team: total time 2:08:57
Awards:
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.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Olympian Thoughts
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.
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.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
When Ducks Fly
"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 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.Sunday, July 13, 2008
If the Shoe Fits
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.
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.
Friday, July 4, 2008
States of Mind
“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 col
umn 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!”
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 col
umn 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.
I pick up my medal, which indicates that I won the male 41 and over category. This is the only race where 4
0-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.
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.
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 4
0-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.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Buddy System
"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.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Above the Clouds
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 o
verall, 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 scatt
er 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.
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All action photos provided courtesy of Lake Merritt Joggers and Striders.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Guy on a Bike
"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 a
t 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 projec
ted 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 leavi
ng 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.
ng 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.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Day before a race
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.
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.
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