Victory Over Violence 5K: 'Patience, hell . . .'

During my first job out of college, one of my (many) bosses had a cartoon in his planner, that featured two vultures sitting on a tree limb. One looks to the other and said, 'Patience, hell. Let's go kill something.'

Last post, I mentioned something about becoming a walker, and I may have said something earlier about my company being a sponsor of the Women's Shelter Victory Over Violence 5K and that I thought I should participate.

Last week, during one of my walks, a runner zipped past me. I didn't feel compelled to chase the runner down, but I did decide that I would run in the VOV 5K and not walk. I haven't run in months, but . . . well, patience, hell . . .

I ran-walked my way to a 32:55 finish (no chips, my watch), which is just eight seconds slower than last year's time of 32:47, when I trained for about a couple of months. In 2005, I ran the 5K in 34:20, but I don't remember how much I trained. I just remember being hot and fat.

So, patience aside, I took off in a confident lope (after taking two minutes to walk up to the starting line) and zipped around lines of chatting walkers. I completed my first mile in 9:45, and I started one-minute walks around 12-14 minutes.

The question arises: how can you run the first mile in slightly less than 10 minutes, then slow to a run-walk and still finish at about a 10 1/2 minute pace? About 1/4 mile before the finish, the VOV course, which winds through Fort Worth's Trinity Park, takes a sharp right toward the finish line.

At the turn, I jokingly asked a college student who was directing runners if I was in the lead, and he just looked confused (hope he's not a pre-med student). I always accelerate when I see the finish line, and when I did, I heard corresponding footsteps to my right. I pick up my pace, and he picks up his pace.

I glance to the side and see that it's a teenage boy, and testosterone-induced second-wind kicks in. He and I are racing to the finish line, and I'm thinking that I can beat him with a strong finish.

Then the question that crosses every middle-aged man's mind during strenuous activity came up: Are you nuts!? At 52, it's difficult to tell whether you're pushing your body to its limits . . . or you're getting ready to have a heart attack.

He eased by me about 20 yards from the finish line, and I thought I could push a little harder to catch and pass him. Then I questioned my sanity and let him go.

I'm hoping he was tired and had to go take a nap, but I probably should've thanked him for pushing me to a strong finish and a time, with no recent training, close to last year's.

I'll return to walking (I've really enjoyed it), but I'm sure there'll be some evenings when a runner will pass me, and I'll look up the sidewalk and mutter, 'Patience, hell. Let's go kill something.'

Change of Pace

I'm thinking about becoming a walker. If you've read any of my previous posts, you can probably tell how hard it is for to stick to a running program. We have a really nice neighborhood for walking (a lot of trails and parks), so I can pick up for a 30-45 minute walk and carry on without looking like I've been for a swim (and smelling like I've been hiding in a gym locker). Plus, with the cost of gasoline, it'll be nice to wrap up my walk at the neighborhood grocery, or the Y, or the donut shop.

The Women's Center Victory Over Violence 5-K is in a couple of weeks, and I think I can run a 5-K without having to dial 9-1-1. I'm registered (our company is a sponsor), so I'll be there.

Post-Flu Trudging; Inspiration

I've run four times during the past week and feel pretty good . . . now. Last Monday was the first run since the flu (I had a cough that hung around for another week or so), and I felt like I was rumbling/trudging/weaving/gasping my way through the waddle. Now, I'm back to where I left off pre-flu, at two minutes walking and eight minutes running, maybe not quite as fast.

I may not be a good runner, but I look kind of like a runner, at least a big runner . . . long and sort of lean with a pretty fluid motion on the treadmill. Last night, I was running next to a lady who was just beginning an exercise program; and if I guessed, I'd say she was about 5'4" and around 250 pounds.

I was pretty impressed when she cranked up her treadmill to run for a short while, then slowed back to walk, then cranked it back up again, then returned to walking. I don't think that was her plan; I just think she felt like running.

Inspiration sometimes comes in odd forms, and I am truly inspired by women like her. I see them a lot at the Y, and I have to ask myself, somebody who looks like a runner, although a big runner: How do these ladies, who are at a stage where they have minimal physical strengths and abilities, keep pushing themselves; while I whine and quit when a little sweat builds up or I get bored on the treadmill?

Guilt is a powerful motivator.

Best of luck, lady-I-ran-next-to.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

While my wife and I are watching the Super Bowl, my younger daughter is looking at the newspaper and sees something about Cowtown. She asks if I'm running in Cowtown, and I tell her that the flu has really gotten in the way of my training. She looks at the Cowtown date in the newspaper and then at me, and says, 'You have 20 days.' Hmmmm?

What's a Runner to Do?

I've missed a couple of weeks of running now. Last week, I was feeling way to heavy, mostly as a result of a overeating and a busy schedule with not enough time to work out. This week, I have the flu and, in the words best said with a thick Texas accent, I'm feeling puny.

The Cowtown 5K is February 23, and I'd better get back to pounding the pavement . . . or treadmill.

Unless, of course, I can think of another excuse to convince myself not to run . . . my wife is right. I am SO easy.

The Joy of the Treadmill

I have found a reason to love the treadmill . . .

Yesterday, I was trudging along at my 10-minute pace on a treadmill adjacent to a rabbit cruising at his 'relaxed' 7-minute pace. But the absolute best part -- I never lost a single step on him.

I've told one of the owners of our firm, a marathoner, that I'm running in the Cowtown 5K next month. Guess I better, huh?

My Top 10 Running Songs

Some cyber-magic toy tied to my blog tells me what key words visitors used to arrive here (no worry; that's about all it tells me), and one of the most popular is the phrase 'best running songs.' I've noticed in other blogs that everybody has their favorite running songs, so here, in no particular order, is my Top 10 (and, like me, they are so '70s):

- Johnny B. Goode -- Chuck Berry
- After Midnight -- Eric Clapton
- Everybody's Everything -- Santana
- Foot-Stompin' Music - Grand Funk Railroad
- Born to Be Wild -- Steppenwolf
- Sweet Hitchhiker -- Creedence Clearwater Revival
- Radar Love -- Golden Earring
- Rock and Roll -- Led Zeppelin
- Born to Run -- Bruce Springsteen
- Gonna Fly Now (theme from Rocky) -- Bill Conti (we all gotta dance at the top of those steps)

The all have a strong beat that DRIVEs me. Honorable mention includes:

- Run Through the Jungle -- Creedence Clearwater Revival
- Theme from Shaft -- Isaac Hayes (I wish this was the theme music that played whenever I walked into a room)
- Crazy on You -- Heart
- Another One Bites the Dust -- Queen
- Call Me the Breeze -- Lynyrd Skynyrd
- Looking for a Hero -- Bonnie Tyler
- Saturday's All Right for Fighting -- Elton John
- Hot Rod Lincoln -- Commander Cody and the Lost Planet Airmen
- Beer Drinkers and Hell Raisers -- ZZ Top
- Smoke on the Water -- Deep Purple
- I'm a Man -- Chicago*
- Money for Nothing -- Dire Straits*

* these two start off slow, and I have a tendency to slow down with them

Can't say I didn't warn you. It's elevator music at 'the home.'

A Beautiful Day for a Run!

We're enjoying spring-like weather here in Fort Worth, and today was absolutely beautiful. I even left work early to be able to run outside before it got dark. I've only been running on the treadmill, so this was a real treat; but there were some things I forgot:

- Spring-like weather means wind, lots of it

- Outdoors means hills; my calves may need more work than the treadmill offers

- Outdoors and spring-like weather also means bugs; I think I swallowed one

I felt great when I was done. This was one of those runs that makes you a believer in the magic of endorphins. I was goofily dancing in the kitchen while fixing dinner; my wife and younger daughter just gawked and shook their heads.

I'm really excited about the Cowtown 5K. I think it's time for a PR (which, in my case, won't be tough to set, but that's okay; it'll be a PR).

Cowtown 2008

Okay. All right, already. The Fort Worth Star-Telegram is now running a series of articles on how easy it is to spend the next eight weeks preparing for the Cowtown Marathon's 5K. Looks like I'm stuck. Run is February 23.

Time for a Change

About 26 minutes into a 30-minute run last night on the dreadmill (aptly named by my triathlete friend Clay), my iPod pulls up Pat Green and Cory Morrow singing Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way? It had been a pretty good run: I was walking two minutes and running for eight and had been adjusting my pace from 10-8:30 minute miles, which ranges from my normal pace to significantly faster than my flabby, old legs carry me. I was pretty pooped and planned to slow the pace back to 10-10:14.

Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way? begins with a hard, almost-angry guitar strumming, and the first verse ends with:

We've been the same way for years
We need to change

Interesting thought for someone who regularly asks if this is going to get any easier or wonders why he never gets any faster.

Thanks, Pat and Cory (and Hank and Waylon). For the last four minutes of my run, I pushed the pace to 8:30 and down to about 7:45. For those rabbits among you, that's cruising for me. I feel good!

Monday Morning Hangover

What's the yield for a recipe of pecan sandies? How many servings? How about those peanut butter things dipped in chocolate?

My wife and daughter LOVE to prepare desserts for the holiday. I'm not a big fan of the peanut butter things, but being a good dad/husband, I'll eat them. BUT I LOVE pecan sandies. Whatever the yield is, take away the three that I shared with my daughter and the two for my wife, and that's what I ate during the last couple of days.

I AM NOT excited about tomorrow morning's run.

Best of Best of Running Songs

Every runner has his/her favorite running songs, and most of us old guys include the Boss' Born to Run near the top of our lists.

But the very best of the best of running songs has to be about three minutes into Born to Run. The music's hit a crescendo, there a brief pause, then Bruce counts -- shift into overdrive -- 1 . . 2 . . 3 . . 4, there's a drum roll (pick up the pace again), then, almost like a shove in your back, The Big Man, Clarence Clemons, brings everyone (better pick up your pace again) in with his sax:

The highway's jammed with broken heroes (but not me)
on a last chance power drive
Everybody's out on the run tonight
but there's no place left to hide (no place to hide because I'm in the lead)

Whoo! I had a good run tonight. Can you tell?

Ain't Nothing But a Hound Dog

(sorry Elvis)

Normally I run on the YMCA's treadmill at night; so, with the indoor lights behind me and the darkness outside, I see my own reflection in the window ahead of me. Today I ran mid-afternoon and watch the world pass by, just like my dog would do.

I felt like my dog, just hanging out on a Sunday afternoon watching the traffic go by. I found myself looking left and following a car until it passed out of my site on the right. I watched cars pull fill up with gas and wait and wait and wait until traffic passed to get back on the main road. And I watched the Wal-Mart parking lot and those drivers who will wait five minutes to get a parking spot instead of walking an additional 30 seconds from a spot farther from the store. All in all, it was a pretty exciting run (?). At least I didn't let the dog thing get carried away and chase any cars.

I'm making progress on getting back into running shape, although I'm a little frustrated that I'm not greyhound graceful yet (I think I'll be in the hound-dog stage for awhile). I'm up to the 3 minutes walking / 7 minutes running for 30 minutes, and probably will bump that up to 2 minutes / 8 minutes by the end of the week.

If I ran outside, I'd probably be running the entire 30 minutes, but I hate running on treadmills, so the beginner's walking/running split is perfect for breaking up the run-killing treadmill monotony.

A SIDE NOTE: In the past year, I've really improved my weightlifting, especially my benchpress. I'm up to about three sets of 12 repetitions with 225 pounds, so my chest is significantly bigger. So . . . where do I buy a manly bra? I'm not accustomed to running and having to counterbalance bouncing boobs!

Junior High Running Advice

One of the best bits of running advice I ever received was on my one (yes, one) day of football tryouts in 8th grade. I eavesdropped on two coaches as they watched a classmate, Harris White, run 50-yard sprints. Harris was a black kid whose running style was very relaxed, most noticeably, his palms open instead of fists clenched.

The whole concept of more relaxed running, beginning with 'non-contributing' body parts like hands, shoulders, jaw, has hung with me through 30+ years of on-again-off-again running. Of course, my running style has been so relaxed that my incredibly slow pace is compared to the soap, Days of Our Lives . . . like sands through the hourglass.

But it has been interesting as I take one more shot at running, this time beginning on the treadmill (I HATE COLD . . . or HOT . . . even COOL and WARM), because I can see myself in the reflection of the window at the Y. I'm able monitor my hands, almost flapping them to keep from making fists, and my shoulders, working hard to push them down off my ears. Unfortunately, if I don't pay enough attention to my feet, I tend to list to one side and fall off the treadmill.

If I ever see Harris again, I would like to thank him for a running style that makes me at least feel like I'm running fast.

I'm not sure if Harris played football in high school. He was really fast, and I'm pretty sure he ran track. Thomas Jefferson's football teams (in Port Arthur, before I offend anyone) were REALLY bad in the early to mid-70s, so I kind of doubt if his speed had been tapped.

A slightly different perspective on Junior High Running Advice at: http://georgesfrontporch.blogspot.com/2007/12/junior-high-running-advice-ii.html

And your momma, too!

Originally published December 4, 2007

If that treadmill had a butt, I would've kicked it! Yessssssss . . . good run.

Like a ton of bricks

Originally published December 1, 2007

What happened!? Felt so good after my last run . . . headed to the treadmill at the Y this afternoon and hit the wall after about three steps (at least it took me about 17 miles in the Austin Motorola Marathon). Not sure if the ton bricks refers to the wall that fell on me or the post-Thanksgiving mass I'm trucking around.

Just like the Kenyans

First published November 29, 2007

Tonight's run was AWESOME (okay, tonight's walk for two minutes, run for four was pretty good). A couple of years ago, I read in Runners World about the Kenyans' running style. What I remember most (okay, only) is that they hold their arms a little higher, which increases their forward lean and improves their speed.

I've been working on the treadmill at the Y, trying to get back into running, and I'm working on holding my arms higher. I've always run with my arms hung low and relaxed, so this is a little different (and tough to remember to do . . . especially at my age). When I do hold my arms higher, I can feel my pace smooth out (I'd tell that I'm running faster, too, except that I've been on a treadmill), but I haven't been able to sync my arms and legs.

HOWEVER, there have been some moments of BRILLANCE, when my arms are held high and they're right in sync with my legs and my lungs, and there's my fiercest competitor just ahead and my wife and kids are cheering, my friends have the beer cooled to 29 degrees and the finish line is just ahead (and Nike's looking for a new endorsement) and . . . well, you know the rest of the story.

I've just moved up to the 2/4 repetitions, but feel pretty good.

Looking forward to picking up the pace in the next week.So, bring on the cheetahs and zebras!

Starting Over (again)

Originally published November 9, 2007

"Starting all over again is gonna be tough' . . . who sang that way back in the day (what a time to refer to as 'the day' . . . ugh!)?

Ran last night on the treadmill at the Y . . . 30 minutes, 3 walking, 3 running. Felt REALLY good, but sure was sore this morning (what happened?). Seem to be over the groin/ab injury, but I probably shouldn't push it.

Keep telling my wife -- the non-runner -- that I want to start running again . . . she asks 'why?' Any good answers?

But I'm sick and have a temperature

Originally published June 6, 2007

Back in the days of three TV channels (four if you could get PBS), 'I'm sick and have a temperature' was the tag line delivered by a semi-faking kid for a sure-fire remedy commercial. That's probably what my excuses for not running for the last few weeks sound like. Actually, I think I pulled a muscle in my lower abdomen after my 5K, and it really seems to become aggravated when I run. I have been using the elliptical trainer at the Y, but it's not quite the same (not nearly the sweat and staggering and general overall misery). I'm hoping that I'll be back to full speed (me and speed used in the same sentence -- ha!) in about a month. Can't do any ab work, and I feel kind of like Santa Claus.

And, then there's the friend, another dad, who's devastated because his son has chosen to run cross country and track instead of playing baseball. I don't think that the boy's coming out of the closet; I just think he's chosen to run. Is run-o-phobe an appropriate diagnosis for the dad?

When does this get easier?

Originally published May 10, 2007

When does this get easier? I asked that same question after my last run, too. Today's run was hot and humid and hot. It rained late this afternoon, so I ran past a lot of flowing water and through a lot of water covering sidewalks.

We've had a lot of rain the last few weeks (months?), and I can tell I've worked for an engineering firm too long. As I splash along my run after the rain, I ponder how long the storm water system will take to drain the area and if my route falls is affected by the Probable Maximum Flood . . . pretty sad, huh?

Near the end of my run, I passed a group of kids who were playing in and around the water flowing in the gutter. One girl, who obviously is the big sister to an 8-year-old boy, shouts that he's going to be in trouble when he gets home (he was floating his leather baseball glove in the gutter). I heard light footsteps behind me, then the boy zips by me. I thought he was running home until I hear his sister shout for him to 'quit showing off.' When he was about 15-20 yards ahead of me, I realized that we were racing (!), so I sprinted after him.

I discovered long ago that in order to beat a child in a foot race, you simply have to 1) race farther than the length of a soccer field, or 2) race beyond what is likely the boundary where his parents allow him to play.

I was about to pass him and turn the corner past what I perceived as his neighborhood boundary; instead I declared him the winner as he passed a driveway right before I caught him. I thought this might help him prove to his bossy big sister that he wasn't just showing off.
And maybe I am ready for those fartleks I've been thinking about.

For what it's worth, I think this will get easier if I stretch more between runs. My legs, especially my calves, are really tight; and I think it's making my running more difficult than it needs to be.