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.

Best and Worst of 2009

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perfect Carma

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Learning to Run

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Family Ties

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which Doctor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good Company

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

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

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

*Times includes in team scoring.

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

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

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

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