Mixed Up

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Outclassed

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Expect the Unexpected

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

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

Fat-Bottomed Girls

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heart of Oakland

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Does This Hill Make Me Look Fat?

"What's in the cooler?"

"Heart and lungs."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Super Sub

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hit and Run

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

10 on the 10th in 2010

"A lot of these runners look fast."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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