Run DMZ

I took everyone’s advice [thank you!] and reminded myself this morning’s El Cajon 20k was just a training run, nothing more. That helped calm me while the perfect conditions and bucolic course took care of the rest. The race director called this year’s considerably smaller crowd (86 finishers) an “intimate group,” and I was thrilled that it included Denise, who trained with me during my marathon days. She had a baby five months ago and, like me, is on the comeback trail. She also picked this one to prepare for the La Jolla Half Marathon in three weeks. The predicted heat never hit. The weather at the start was in the high 40s (perfecto!), with warming sun rays chased by a breeze. Denise and I agreed to average 10-minute miles and put her Garmin in charge of pacing us. First mile was well under that, so we slowed until we hit the first huge hill just before the 5k mark. Then we slowed even more :-). This is where packs split up since some people charge upward and others move more conser...

Back in the mid ‘90s, a group of us newspaper staffers formed a corporate running team known as The Deadliners. So good were we that we once placed second in the competitive Bay Days 10k in Hampton, Va. -- and no one knew till the results came out in the next day’s paper. Then, because of our suspicious nature, we exchanged conspiracy theories, not congratulations. Was the sports desk playing a sick joke? Did someone sleep with the race director? The team lineup changed as runners moved on to bigger papers or were called in to cover a murder. But one guy, Randy from tech support, could always be counted on. His standard response when asked his predicted time: “I’m just here to keep fill out the team. You all feel free to finish ahead of me.” And so he did, constantly coming in last among other Deadliners. Once -- I think it was the heavily attended Harborfest 10k in downtown Norfolk -- Randy and a local television anchorwoman were being tailed by the straggler van and a fire truck with...

This weekend I will go through the crumbling boxes and dusty containers in my garage to locate the paperback journal that holds all my treasured words from high school. This poem got special treatment, as I recall, with my friend Susan typing it for me because she was the only one with access to the school’s prized electric typewriters. Man, do I suddenly feel ancient. I remember what the poem was about and how it was written (the two things that led to those awful accusations), but the last thing I need is to misquote myself. In the meantime, I wanted to thank everyone for their earlier suggestions on my post-run after chills. Last night after track, I took a long hot shower right away and it helped a lot. I slept like a baby...up every two hours. Actually, I slept poorly mostly because of a very heavy workload weighing on me -- not because I was chilled to the bone all night. I am still going to look more deeply into the rhabdomyolysis and thyroid conditions “Gonzo” and Irene menti...

Our local newspaper this winter ran a series of letters from successful women to their former selves to help show how they turned their lives around. During yesterday’s long run, I thought up my own letter to me at age 16. Once home, I quickly jotted down my thoughts and now I encourage everyone to do the same. Share your letter if you want or just hold on to it for safekeeping. You might, like me, be pleasantly surprised what you discover about yourself. Dear Anne, Your friend Janet is about to tell you there’s a job opening at her restaurant. Your parents aren’t keen on you working, but your soul is sagging under an increasingly heavy burden at home. School is no refuge, I know. You’ve been falsely accused of plagiarizing a poem and teachers are making an example out of you. Your peers rejected your application for the school newspaper. There’s even talk you’ll be kicked out of the national honor society, whose membership is hard to come by on this campus. Here’s what you’re gonna ...

The details came in driplets, but eventually regular readers of Juls' Keeping Pace blog realized her husband was dying, unexpectedly and quite quickly. Instead of clamming up, she kept the posts coming and we all got a glimpse of what it's like to face one of our worst fears. For the last two weeks, our track coach has reminded us to let the people fundamental to our lives know how much they mean to us. Last week it was our mother. He told us to call her when we got home and let her know how much she's appreciated. Now, such an out-of-the-blue call on a weeknight in my family usually is code for "I'm in deep trouble," so I let the opportunity pass for fear of setting off a panic attack. Then this past Tuesday, after returning from a funeral, Coach Paul reminded us how fleeting life can be and how important it is to seize opportunities while our loved ones still walk among us. Thanks for being so brave and so open, Juls. Our hearts go out to you and your family...

There's a new documentary in the making about everyday athletes . The kind who read and contribute to this blog, for instance. Here's a link to the trailer for Athlete . (After being unable to post the video itself on this site. Sorry.) It's well worth the 2-plus minutes out of your day.