T Minus Four Days to Carlsbad

Time has seemed to move so quickly since the new year began. Work is once again eating up my life. And my apathy about running continues. Yes, I still run. But not as much as I should, even in this taper period.

And with not much enthusiasm.

After work yesterday, I ran 12.4 miles. I just couldn't bring myself to do my last long run over the weekend (though I convinced Jeanne to run). There were so many other things to do! Like watching this (spooky). And picnicking in the park. So much easier on your cardio system than pounding out the miles.

But I did run that 12.4 miler at an average 8:43/mile pace. I guestimate that most of my run was around 9:10/mile, but I logged several miles faster than usual.

Ouch: Oh, and my right foot hurts. I twisted it a little over a week ago, during my second-to-last long run before Carlsbad. 15.5 miles. In fact, I twisted it several times, but I kept running (well, limping for a bit). "Shake it off," I told myself. And I did. Until I twisted it again.

It hurt quite badly the next day. Now the pain - a bit more than a twinge, but not bad enough to need wrapping - comes and goes.

Tapeworm: And ... I am eating everything in sight. My appetite knows no bounds. Pasta. Rice. Cookies. Strawberry ice cream. Chicken tacos. Hmm .. getting hungry again ....

piping up (briefly)

You've heard nothing but crickets here for the past week because I just started a new job. And by the time I get home, I'm too tired to even read other people's blogs, much less post on my own.

But here I am. At least for the next few minutes.

The Sunday before last I ran 13.1 miles, the first 10.5 with a new running group. Except only three of the fast guys showed up. They said they would take it slowly, then we ran the first two miles in 16 minutes. Hmmm. The first mile was downhill, then the next SIX were uphill. Like way, way uphill on a two-lane winding road with no shoulder. Aaargh. We got little to no downhill in the remaining miles, unfortunately. The route just evened out. Sigh.

Yesterday I ran 15.6 miles by myself. And it felt ... well, if not easy ... very, very doable. Averaged about 9:40/mile, a nice, relaxed pace for me. I ran loops around the Rose Bowl, which is exactly 3.1 miles around. The route is a long and gradual uphill on the left side, flattens out at the top, then a gradual decline on the right side, before once again flattening out.

Felt good at the end. Peppy, even. Like I could've run another 3.1 mile loop, and danced a jig at the end.

More later. Peace out.

15 Miles ... Check!

Whew. At the crack of noon today (OK, 12:45 pm), I finally set off for my long run. The first 10 miles went swimmingly, although a lot of cars and trucks tended to slow down and watch me run.

Which was annoying. E. says I should carry a sign that says, "What are YOU looking at?" or "Take a photo ... it lasts longer."

But I digress. I ran south from Tahoe City, up and down the rolling trails. The lake was a gorgeous, cerulean blue. The late October sun was high in the sky. The air was a crisp 58 degrees.

Overall, I felt great. At the 10-mile mark, I stopped by my house to down a triberry Gu and some vitamin water. Then I set off for the last six miles.

And it was the last six that killed me. That last 1/3-mile long steep hill didn't help. My hamstrings cried "Uncle" at Mile 12. The soles of my feet felt as if I'd been running on sharp rocks. And, boy, did my butt hurt soldiering up all the small hills.

At Mile 15, I must admit, I walked twice for a minute. Since my Garmin GPS was next to worthless - there is so much tree cover here that the satellites can't find my little, wristbound contraption - I wasn't sure exactly what my pace was, though it felt around 9:15/mile.

I tried to gmap my route to get my exact mileage. But again, too much tree cover. I ran 2 hours and 20 minutes. Probably between 15-16 miles. Let's say 15.5.

I was supposed to do 16. But I was lucky to do what I did.

Tomorrow, I'm going to treat myself to a massage. I can barely bend over, my hammies hurt so much.

Procrastination Central

So I missed my long run this past Sunday because we were driving to Tahoe. And I missed it yesterday because we were too busy shopping for stuff to decorate our house and because we had to drop off a rental SUV in Reno.

And now it's 10 AM on a beautiful Tuesday morning ... and I'm putting off my long run. Sixteen miles in high altitude. Brisk 45-50 degree weather.

I feel like a fat lazy wimp.

But I'd so much rather go to the farmer's market (lots o' pumpkins now) and get groceries for tonight's dinner. Or take our dog to the lake so he can go swimming. Or just going for a walk and take in the autumn colors at a more leisurely pace.

But the Carlsbad Marathon awaits. OK, it's 3 months away. But still.

California Fires: The fires in Los Angeles, San Diego, and San Bernardino counties have devastates and displaced hundreds of families. The Santa Ana winds, which are partly to blame, were incredibly fierce this year. We almost got blown off the freeway on Saturday night, the same night the fires started.

As the holidays approach, please think of donating to charities that will help these families.

It's Official

I've signed up for the Carlsbad Marathon. I popped my check in the mail yesterday.

And not a moment too soon. I've gotten lazy over the past week. I only ran once (!!), logging about 8 miles. Yes, I had sore feet, and I was still unpacking. But, come on.

So last night, I ran close to 13 miles in about 2 hours. I ran loops through the posh neighborhoods of San Marino, through Caltech, battled traffic here and there as the sun set, and returned home when it was too dark to see.

This morning, 12 hours after logging my long run, I did a recovery jog/run of about 3 miles, waving at all the gardeners pruning the bushes and mowing the massive lawns of my neighbors. My legs felt like lead. And boy, are they sore. A good feeling, though.

You know you're a runner when you feel a sense of accomplishment because your legs feel like two wet noodles ...

Searching for pace group ...

Hello from Tahoe. We're up here for the week, buying some furnishings for our house, planting trees, and finding folks to help take care of our cottage while we're down in Los Angeles. We're getting nervous about all the $$ we're spending ...

I only have a few minutes, so here's a quick running update.

Long run: I ran 12 miles with a local running club in LA last Saturday. At 7 AM, on a beautiful, cool sunny morning, about a dozen of us started from the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, then ran south, along the Arroyo Seco, through South Pasadena, San Marino, and back again. Most of the course was flat, except for a long, steep hill in the middle.

Unfortunately, I was the fastest runner in the group, which is training for the Long Beach Half-Marathon next month. I stuck with the group for the first mile (a rather painful 10:49). But my legs were itching to run, so I went ahead and ran alone for the remaining 11 miles. My pace ranged from 8:35/mile to 9:30/mile.

There were several water stops, and I stopped at a couple and chatted with a few runners, who were friendly. There was one woman, however, who seemed to think it was a race, and stopped only two seconds at each water stop to gulp down some agua and hit the road. I caught up with her after each stop.

Red-faced and breathing hard, she said hello in response to my greetings, but she didn't seem to want to run with me.

Well, okay. So I ran ahead.

At Mile 10, I caught up to the some of the 10-mile group runners, and I jogged for about a half-mile (10:52/mile pace) with one of them, then ran ahead again.

One of my fastest miles was Mile 12, about 8:40/mile. Overall pace, including the slow first mile and half-mile at the end, was 9:15/mile. So I guess I haven't lost all of my conditioning from moving to CA.

I hung out afterwards with a few other runners, eating a bagel smeared with strawberry cream cheese, and watching the others stream in. The red-faced woman jogged slowly over and started stretching off the side.

"Good run!" I said to her.

She looked at me, then said flatly, "You're a fast runner."

Then she turned away.

Tahoe runs: I ran both Monday and yesterday here in the high altitude. Each run kicked my butt. The first run was only about 5 miles, but my lungs strained for oxygen in the thin air. At twilight yesterday, I ran six miles. My lungs felt a little better, but the hilly terrain taxed my legs.

So perhaps I'm not as fit as I should be ....

Running Uphill at Tahoe

Hello from Lake Tahoe! We've been here since Thursday, and we head back to the Bay area this afternoon. As always, we've had a great time - lots of running, swimming in the lake, and hiking.

Thin air: Here I am last Saturday at High Camp at the Squaw Valley Ski Resort. It sure was windy. E. and I (and our Lab-mix, Nelson), drove 20 minutes from the lake's west shore to see the 27th annual Squaw Valley Mountain Run.

This race is tough - it's 3.6 miles of misery, starting at 6,200 ft. in elevation and ending at 8,200 ft. It's a good thing I ran 8 miles the previous day (wheezing at high altitude) and had a 16-miler scheduled the next day. Otherwise, I'd be sorely tempted to run the race.

Taking the tram: The second photo is of the start of the race. You can see the racers, all 517 of them, snaking up the first incline. E., Nelson (Squaw Valley is dog-friendly) and I took the easy way up - a tram that rises to High Camp, where the race ends.

From the tram, you can squint and see the runners wend their way up the mountain. (Look to the left in the third photo.) They looked like ants.

All the way up: The fourth photo is of the 3rd-place finisher (I think) coming in, at 3043. The overall winner crossed the finishing line in 29:33. The first woman finished at 35:37.

The pain of going uphill: One runner, who came in the top 20, ran so hard up the mountain that he fell to his knees, gasping, and crawled across the finish line. Then he couldn't get up, and two women had to haul him to his feet and drag him to the water table. He was fine after ingesting water, sports drinks, and a bagel. I did not see any medics there (!!)

Eagle Lake hike: Here's a photo of my sister-in-law, En. She hiked up into Desolation Wilderness with us to Eagle Lake, our favorite short (but steep) hike . I took our Tahoe relay race team up here the day before the race back in June. Everyone loved it except for one.

Long run: Yesterday, I ran about 16 miles. But I had to break it up into two runs, because we had to clean up and leave our cottage by mid-morning, and head to En.'s house (where we stayed last night). I know, not ideal, but better than skipping it.

So at 7:15 am, I headed out in shorts and a t-shirt in the cool, sunny, 55-degree weather and ran 8.6 miles in 1:24. The route was fairly hilly in some places, and the high altitude kept my pace at a conservative 9:45/mile. Then, at 6 pm, I ran another 7+ miles with E. and Nelson. Both were beat by the end of the run. I felt like I could go another mile, but thought it would be nice if we all stayed together.

Stay tuned: I may have some good news to share with you in a couple of days. Right now, we're still weighing it up. Oh ... and in other news, we're heading to Vegas (for a conference) on Tuesday!

Where's my breakfast?!

I've got a tapeworm to feed! Kidding. I think.

Here I am, several hours after my long run yesterday, impatiently waiting for a hungry-man serving of chicken enchiladas, guacamole, rice and pico de gallo at our neighborhood Tex-Mex place.

I actually got up in time to meet up for my Sunday long run with the others in my training program. It was freakishly early - just before 7 AM. Thankfully, the weather was nice, downright balmy for Washington, D.C. Low 70's. Low humidity.

We ran on the dirt C&O Canal Towpath. Our mileage varied depending on the races we were training for, from 8-10 miles on the low end to 16-18 miles on the high end. I ran 15 miles, the first 4 at 9:36/mile pace. Then my running partner, L., and I gradually sped up.

Whew!: Miles 7-13.5 were at a sub 9:00/mile pace - probably 8:40 to 8:45/mile. I was just trying to keep up with L. In the last mile-and-a-half, I was starting to flag . The weather had also heated up to a sweltering 80 degrees. So I slowed down to 9:30/mile or so.

But overall, I felt really good - especially since I had been down with a bad head cold and sinus congestion the previous three days.

After finishing, I stretched, talked to a few other runners, and drank some Vitamin Water. Finally, after 20 minutes, I saw rude dude from the track (see two posts below) stagger in. He looked a bit the worse for wear. Haggard. Out of breath.

Then he started whining to our coach. What a tool. I know it's unseemly, but pardon me while I gloat just for a minute ...