Dog Ownership Quiz

You find one of your two dogs lapping at a pile of yellow stomach fluids and partially digested dog food. What do you do?

a. Shoo the dog away, clean up the mess, and offer some replacement food
b. Shoo the dog away, clean up the mess, and make sure the water bowl is full
c. Pretend you don’t notice and let the dog get on with cleaning up the mess, nature’s way

If you answered “c”, I’ll be joining you later in the non-smoking section of hell.

Portland Fit Kickoff

I got to the area around 8:10 or so, parked in one of the big lots they were using, and milled around for a while. The “sign-in” for preregistered people consisted of them crossing your name off a list and handing you a “goodie bag”. Mostly pamphlets, a few coupons, and one sports drink powder. But, one of the coupons is for a free Jamba Juice, which will make someone I know very excited.  Interestingly, they didn’t give out any tag or other indicator that you had paid up — really, anybody could have wandered in and participated for free. (Yes, I have a dishonest mind.)

Then there was a little speechifying — mainly from the founder of USA Fit. I’ve heard he gives the same speech every year. Well, it’s a good one; I guess he doesn’t need to change it. Then we hit the roads, most of us being timed to figure out our color group.

I did the “three mile” course in 27:44, which put me in the 9 to 10 minute per mile yellow group, as expected. Although… the Forerunner says we actually ran 3.14 miles, which makes my 27:44 an 8:50 pace. I demand a recount! No, no, I don’t. If you end up becoming faster or slower, they do let you change color groups just for the asking, anyway. The emphasis is very, very much not on speed with Portland Fit. I tried to run sort of fast but easily, and still finished this “5K” a minute faster than I did the Shamrock run earlier this month. That course had hills, and this one didn’t, but still, it’s encouraging to see the improvement.

Then I came home and crawled back into bed.

Portland Fit starts tomorrow

This is my second consecutive rest day, and everything feels pretty good: the ankle feels fine and the right pinkie toenail, while darkened, isn’t hurting. I’ve definitely gotten a new cold though. I’ve been coughing for, what, a month now? But it’s a mild cold and I’ve rested a lot yesterday and today, so it isn’t dampening my enthusiasm for starting Portland Fit tomorrow. This isn’t a few people getting together for a run — they expect something like a thousand to fifteen hundred people showing up tomorrow! (Like lemmings running into the sea, you’re thinking…) They were going to be doing it somewhere on the SW waterfront, but they couldn’t organize the parking, so they are back to the location they’ve used for the last few years, in the industrial district out past the Pearl.

Knocking on wood — not 100% reliable

Recall I lightly twisted my ankle in the middle of yesterday’s run. (‘Twas my right ankle.) After about 30 seconds, it felt fine, so I finished my run. About six hours after that, it started hurting a little. Still a little tender this morning, as well. I wrapped it with an Ace bandage to stabilize it, and I was already planning on two consecutive rest days to make sure I was in good shape for Saturday’s first Portland Fit meeting, so I’m not too worried… but still.

Five Mile Run

I wanted something between taking it easy and challenging myself today, so I decided to do a flat five mile run at 10 minutes/mile. (The Garmin Forerunner is great for this sort of thing — set it to “autolap” at 1 mile and have it show you your “current lap pace”, which tells you how many minutes your current mile will take at your average speed during it so far.) I did an out-and-back along the Springwater-on-the-Willamette path, starting near the Sellwood Bridge. Four of the five miles were a little under 10 minutes, as planned; the third mile was a bit over, because I went “offroad” as it were, onto a little muddy track winding through the woods closer to the river, which involved jumping over a lot of logs and, at one point, lightly twisting my ankle. (No lasting effects, knock on wood). I feel like I might be plateauing… this five-miler didn’t seem much easier than previous runs at similar pace and distance. I might be overtraining a little and generally drained, though.

Things to eat and drink

A few days ago I mentioned I liked raw broccoli. I thought I might be the only one. Not So, I’m in good company! (Be sure to watch at least until the first of the two “feet” things.)

Yesterday I tried out Java Mama coffee, in south Beaverton at Scholls Ferry and Nimbus. It’s a little strip-mall storefront but still manages to be a little hip, if not cozy, inside. Everybody in there seemed to know each other, which is a good thing. They roast their own beans in the store constantly, which is a very good thing: their coffee was excellent. Free WiFi access too. Everybody working there was scruffy- or strange-looking (do I need to see a waxed handlebar mustache?) , which is a bad thing.

30,000 mile checkup

(Just kidding; it’s more like 100.)

Even after my nap yesterday, I still went to sleep early (around nine) and slept in (to 8:30). I’m not really surprised — that was a lot of running in the last couple days. Aside from sleepiness, how’s my body holding up?

• Feet: Good. I’ve been duct-taping the balls of my feet just in case, since that’s where I’ve had blister problems before. My right pinkie nail might be a little ingrown or something.
• Knees: Great. No issues.
• Shins: Good. Just a tiny bit of shin pain during the run.
• Calves: Sore, sore, sore. At least this morning I can get up and down the stairs without looking like a cripple. It’s just regular old muscle pain, though.
• Rest of body: Hips, Abs, and Back all feel normal. I’ve got some soreness in my right arm, almost certainly from carrying the water bottle yesterday.

Trail Running

You might have wondered, if I’m a “wanna-be trail runner,” why haven’t I been, oh I dunno, running on trails? My Leif Erikson Drive 10 miler is as close as I’ve come since I started this blog. And that’s not really a trail.

So, why? Because a lot of the uphills on the trails I love are too steep to allow me to run right now. I don’t have it in me yet to jog up a major hill and keep going after. But I’m getting closer. I decided to try a long slow run on some of my favorite urban trails today (click for larger map):

I started at the bottom there, heading toward the west. That’s the southern endpoint of the Marquam Trail, where it hits Terwilliger. It was mostly runnable for me as it wound behind OHSU. Once it turned to the west and started the climb to Council Crest, I was walking a lot of it. Shortly before the summit, the Marquam Trail starts heading downhill again, angling toward Highway 26 and the zoo. Before that, you have to cross the “Council Crest Gap”, jogging on roads for a quarter mile or so. It plunges back into the forest — and turns very, very muddy — on the far side of Patton Road, a little way down the road kitty-corner from the gas station. At least there’s a few signs to guide this portion; they aren’t clear enough though. When you get to the 26 crossing, you’re on your own. If there was any signage, I missed it. It’s obvious enough that you’re supposed to go along the shoulder of the onramp then take the sidewalk over the bridge, but if you hadn’t studied up before, I don’t know how you’d find the trail continuing behind the Children’s Museum and Forestry Center, starting a little way to the west of the intersection at the north end of the bridge. I’d never been on this portion of the trail before; it turns out it’s steeply uphill. More walking. It winds around behind the Vietnam Veteran’s memorial and — hey presto! — you’ve reached the end of the Marquam Trail, when it intersects the Wildwood.

I decided to keep going. To my right I knew it was just a few hundred yards to the start of the Wildwood; to my left, thirty miles or so to the end. I wasn’t quite signing up for the full thirty. Instead, I ran along the Wildwood, winding though the Hoyt Arboretum, until I reached the trail splitting off and heading downhill to the Rose Gardens area. I refilled my water bottle from a water fountain there, and kept muddling downhill as best I could — it’s been years since I’ve tried to navigate the confusing roads and trails leading down from Washington Park to downtown. Eventually I made it down, and ran on streets down to Sixth. Making a long story short, I took Sixth to Terwilliger and jogged up Terwilliger back to my start point.

Total distance: 12.25 miles. (!) At least I took it slow: a 13:12 average pace. I took a bath when I got home and found I could barely hold my head up. After I got out, I crawled into bed and slept for three hours or so. But it was a good tired.

Race Report: Bridge to Bridge 10K

It was a drizzly and fairly cold morning. Until a few minutes before the race started, when it became a pouring-down rainy and fairly cold morning. A few minutes after that, though, the rain stopped, and during the actual run there was almost none. In fact the sun made an unexpected appearance shortly after I crossed the Steel Bridge. I was wearing some new shorts, a t-shirt, and my vest. I had some other clothing along that got stowed at the clothes check. I found the MiPL folks this time around and we stood around discussing the weather. Then the race started, and we all ran or walked 6.2 miles. Then we had a beer and some bad pizza. Oh, what, you want more details?

My official chip time (they had printouts ready very shortly after I finished) was 57:33, so I averaged a 9:16 mile pace over the 6.21 miles. My goal was to come in under an hour, so I’m happy. According to my Forerunner, my mile splits were 9:36, 9:12, 10:32, 9:15, 9:04, and 8:39. The first split is a little long — this being my first shoe-chip-timed race, I was a little unclear on what the mats were going to look like, and I started the clock before I got to the real start.

The first mile was, of course, very crowded. It was made even worse when we were jammed into one narrow lane over the Steel Bridge. I tried to take it easy and not wear out my fresh legs. Mile two was only notable because the sun came out and the people running the 5K split off to go over the Broadway Bridge (I think). The third mile was mostly uphill, as we climbed up to the very-elevated Fremont Bridge. I didn’t feel great through here. I walked a short bit when I decided I was running a steep part at near a walking pace anyway. The one water station was at the sharp turnaround to get on the ramp to the bridge; it looked like they were having a lot of trouble getting enough cups full. After wrestling with the little paper cups in the Shamrock Run, I decided to carry a water bottle this time. I had mixed Gu2O powder in there, to try it out, and it was pretty good — though getting it to dissolve in water took a long time.

The bridge itself was a letdown, I’m sad to say. First of all, we were running on the lower deck! Somehow that almost feels like false advertising. If I hear I’m running over the Fremont, I expect to be running over it — on top? Not in a tunnel with views to the side. Secondly, they only had one lane of 405 closed off. Don’t get me wrong — between the shoulder and the one lane, there was more than enough room for everybody, but the tunnel-like atmosphere wasn’t improved by having cars and trucks whiz by at 60 mph.

Coming down the bridge slope I picked up a lot of time (I love running downhill) but I was in uncharted territory — I’d never run fairly hard for more than 5K at a time before. The bridge ended at around mile four. My lungs felt ok, even if I am (still!) coughing up phlegm now and again. My calves felt tired. Sort of achy, sort of tight. Other than that, I was fine, as long as I didn’t think too much about anything. Running through the Pearl District (hey, look, there’s the bar where the mingler was!) I started counting strides, to focus on a faster turnover and on not getting distracted.

For the last mile, I tried to pick it up. I don’t know myself well enough to know how hard and how soon I can push it without collapsing. I felt like I was working hard, but in retrospect, I’d have to say I worked harder at the finish of the Shamrock. I had a lot in my tank for the final 50 yards and ended up dodging and weaving through quite a few people as I crossed the line. Using up a little more of that energy throughout the final mile probably would have been better.

My legs seem in good shape now; no knee or shin pain, and really not much muscle soreness either.

Rest Day Babblings

So I’m taking a rest day today, wedged between yesterday’s easy-but-difficult run and tomorrow’s 10K race. I’ve kept busy up until this point in the day, but now I feel a little lost regarding what to do with myself. Between working weekends, running, and going out for this or that, I haven’t had much time lately where I’m not either exhausted or doing something. Also, face it: I’m addicted to running and feel funny not doing it on a day where I could.

I started off this morning by dropping some paint off at a Metro free household hazardous waste disposal event. It was at the Oregon Episcopal School. Hey, I knew where that was because I’ve run past there! Running has so many unexpected benefits. Not only is my geographical knowledge increasing by leaps and bounds, but it also makes me do laundry more often.

After giving the nice people my old paint, I went over to the NE Foot Traffic store to do the early pickup of the bib number, timing chip (my first timing chip!), and t-shirt for tomorrow’s race. It was out on Fremont street, around 40th. I don’t think I’ve ever been out that way before. I don’t think I even knew there was a Fremont street before; in fact I’d wondered about what the deal was with the Fremont Bridge. One street over from Fremont is Klickitat Street, familiar to all Beverly Cleary fans.

The commercial district on Fremont between 33rd and 50th is known as Beaumont Village. I had brought a book with me and wanted to sit and read and get some coffee somewhere. Beaumont Village offered a lot of choices for that. Between 40th and 50th I think I saw three (presumably) independent coffee houses, a Starbuck’s (as I walked by I was saddened to see that it was busy), a tea place that also served coffee, drinks, and food, a gelato / coffee place and several more food-oriented cafes. OK, why don’t I live out there, again? The Fremont Coffee House had a sign outside proclaiming not just its independence but its fierce independence, and a peek inside revealed a cozy-looking, put-together, well-lit place done in dark tones. Honestly, I’m more likely to judge a coffee house in Portland on their atmosphere and service than on the quality of the coffee. The barista here was very friendly and very helpful, and even brought drinks out to people instead of making them queue up at the counter. (OK: she was pretty too.) I sat at a table at first, but soon a cozy stuffed chair right by the front window opened up, and I switched to that. It was a perfect chair for reading, sipping, and watching people walk by outside. I spent a happy hour and a half there, going through a soy-milk latte (I ordered a large at first and she showed me the tureen, er, wildly large cup it came in, so I went down to the very large medium), a tea, and a delicious oatmeal raisin scone. I thought the coffee was a little over-roasted, but as I said, I don’t much care. There was live music, too, which was a mixed blessing… her voice and stylistic choices were, hm, “interesting”.

After a while I headed downtown to participate in a MiPL event — a “keep Portland weird” pillowfight. Everyone involved had a hidden pillow that they were to reveal and start flailing away with when the main organizer blew a whistle. It lasted about three minutes. Kind of fun, but, well, a little lame. I think it needed a bigger crowd… there were maybe 20 or 30 people. Get 400 people out there and it would be amazing.

Hard Easy Run

Ouch. I guess yesterday’s fast 5K did a number on my legs. (I’m thinking the number was either 22 or “Norwegian Wood”.) I planned on doing an easy run tonight and then resting tomorrow, before Sunday morning’s 10K Bridge-to-Bridge. I thought I’d do one of those slow five milers. Well, I did the slow part all right, but my legs weren’t cooperating with the five mile idea. It seemed like it would be a dumb time to really push the pain, so I shortened the loop and ended up with 3.77 miles. Slow pace: 11:28 average. It was a hilly route:

The pain was mostly in my shins or calves, and a little hard to localize. A little bit of that sharp shin-splint feeling was mixed in there, but there was a muscular component too. I iced them after the run and they feel pretty good now. A rest day sounds pretty good right now though.

No more teacher’s dirty looks

Last night I attended my second MiPL “mingler” — that is, an event where everybody who cares to shows up at a bar somewhere near downtown and drinks and talks. This month it was in the Pearl district, so at least I didn’t have to cross the river. What with the stress at work, I was in something of a drinking mood, but the bar we were at didn’t make it easy. First I ordered a screwdriver. It came in a little plastic Dixie cup. And still cost $5. OK, forget the well drinks then. Next up: white wine. Aaaarg! Same Dixie cup. Down to $4.00 though. Hmm. Finally I fell back on good old beer, which, lo and behold, came in a normal adult-sized cup and cost $3.00. One friend of mine there was quite alarmed that I was drinking whiskey, wine, and beer all in the same night. Somehow, somehow, I survived it. I talked to a number of interesting people — MiPL draws an amazing cross-section of people, from what I’ve seen — and had a good time. I had to stay pretty late, for me, to sober up for driving home, so it was midnight by the time I got to sleep.

Today we’re shipping the product at work. That means a lot of sitting around and praying nothing else goes wrong, basically. But we’re home free now — knock on wood. We had a Chinese food lunch and a celebratory trip to the gelato place in Bridgeport Plaza, so it must actually be happening. My vacation request for next week is all approved. Now all we have to do is wait for the magic news that the gold masters are burned, and we are out of here. If it were sunny out, it would feel like the last day of school.

Foods the new me loves

This here is going to be one of those posts where some guy who is all into nutrition and health at the moment tries to convince you (and himself?) that there are some wonderful and delicious and amazing healthy foods out there. Other people who are obsessed about nutrition and health at the moment might read it. The rest of you have already stopped reading. Go look at puppies or something.

Kashi GOLEAN Crunch! Cereal

Yep, let’s start with the commercial plug. A bunch of whole grains, 9g of soy protein per serving, and it’s completely delicious. No, really. I swear. In a regular supermarket, it’s usually nosebleed expensive. The great news? Trader Joe’s sells it for cheap. I’ve only had the regular flavor, not the Honey Almond Flax stuff.

Edamame

Buy these in the freezer section, still in the (fuzzy) pod. The pre-shelled ones I’ve tried have been a little off tasting. Edamame are fresh soybeans of a sweet variety. They are a very ordinary bar snack in Japan. Drop ‘em in boiling water for a few minutes, drain, sprinkle some salt on the shells (on the same theory as salted peanuts: you’ll transfer some salt to the beans inside as you open them), open up the shells (just like opening a pea pod) and enjoy. They are fresh and sweet, and as a bonus, high in protein.

Pre-cut, pre-washed broccoli florets

OK, this one isn’t a slam-dunk like the others. I understand if you hate broccoli. You’re in good company, I guess. (Well, he’s better than his son.) I don’t mind broccoli, and I actually like it better raw than cooked, so these make really good, convenient snacks for me. In addition to all the other green-leafy-vegetable benefits, they are high in vitamin C and calcium.

Chicken of the Sea Smoked Pacific Salmon pouches

Yeah, another product plug. These are a little pricey, but cheap in comparison to the Seabear products. It’s a shelf-stable pouch containing one perfect little serving size of (very) lightly smoked salmon. I haven’t done a direct taste-test of Chicken of the Sea vs. Seabear, but I know I’m happy with either. You could dress this stuff up to your heart’s content, but for me, just one of these on a piece of toast or two is a great light meal.

5K Benchmark

I decided to run a 5K at “race pace” today during lunch. Unofficial new PRs for 1 mile (7:59) and 5K (26:17).

Apizza Scholls

Apizza Scholls is way out on Hawthorn and 47th. The MiPL group was meeting there at 6:30; I left my house at five to six and barely made it in time. Another successful parallel parking adventure.

So: Apizza Scholls. This used to be located in the rural farm community of Scholls, Oregon, maybe five miles outside greater Portland’s urban growth boundary. Back then it was called the Scholls Public House. It first came to my attention in an Oregonian article, talking about how this place out in the country was somehow garnering national attention for its pizza. A few months later, I drove out there and looked for it. I couldn’t find it. Turned out they had been run out of town — the sleepy village couldn’t support the crowds it was drawing and the parking spaces those crowds needed.

They moved out to their current location and renamed the place to the now-cryptic Apizza Scholls. When you enter the place, prepare to be underwhelmed by the atmosphere: you could throw together a restaurant like this in your basement. From the cheesy fake-wood-laminate tabletops to the undecorated walls, it underwhelms. Worse yet was the little echo-chamber of a nook in the back with the big square table where our big party was seated.

We ordered a few pizzas Margherita and one sausage. They came. They looked all right. I took a slice of the sausage one. I put it in my mouth and chewed. (Now, the next few sentences are going to sound like an exaggeration. They are not.) My eyes unfocused. The noises of the room faded to background. I couldn’t focus on conversations around me. My circle of awareness shrunk smaller and smaller until all I was absorbing was the taste, smell, and texture of this pizza. It was the best I have ever eaten. The flavor profile of the sauce, cheese, and crust hit all the notes of the pizzas I love from Brooklyn. But it was better than those, with a crunchier, toastier crust and a perfectly complementing smokiness. The Margherita (that’s cheese, sauce and basil only) was even better. Most pizza Margheritas I’ve tasted are a little, well, plain. No real flavor but “pizza” flavor, you know? But this one exploded with rich complexity, somehow. I think I had four slices. My little diet, thrown to the wind in the face of this perfection. Asked to compare this to Ken’s Artisan Pizza, I declared that on a scale of one to ten, Ken’s was a ten and Scholls’ was a fourteen. (I should note that the two others who had eaten at both places preferred Ken’s by a little. I think it’s a matter of coming from a Brooklyn pizza background or not. I also had a cold when I ate at Kens, and in fairness, maybe that hurt.)

Apizza Scholls has a few beers on tap, a healthy selection of bottled beers, wines, and soda, and as a topper, they also make a fine canolli. They are relatively inexpensive (a pie that feeds three to four is about $20). Do yourself a favor and eat there. Often.

Slow Runs

I took running clothes, shoes, and a towel to work today to fit in a workout at lunch, since I’m busy tonight with another MiPL gourmet snooty delicious pizza-eating event. I would have liked to have run it as a trial run for Sunday’s Bridge-to-Bridge 10K, but my #&*@! lungs still haven’t cleared up, if you can believe it, and I thought I’d better take it easy instead. I decided to try out the “Quick Training” feature of the Garmin Forerunner. It was pretty easy to enter in that I wanted to run five miles at 11:30 minutes a mile. Since I had the “virtual training partner” turned on, this gave me a whole new screen, where the top had this lame graphic of two runners (totally useless, as far as I could tell) and the bottom told you the distance you were ahead or behind your virtual partner (the useful part). You could still use the up/down buttons to get to the regular data screens. Anyway, I had no problem at all beating that pokey 11:30 guy… what a turtle! Actually, I found it a little hard at times to run that slow. I am really picking up speed — I remember when I started a few months ago, my “working hard” pace was around 13 minutes a mile.

I chose to do this as a slow run because my lungs are congested. But all training programs now seem to include at least some slow runs. Running with a low heart rate, under your anaerobic threshold, is supposed to do something good. I wish authorities would agree on what that good is though. I believe I’ve seen all the following claims at one time or another. One, all, or none might be true, for all I can tell.

1. Slow runs develop your cardiovascular system better than hard runs
2. Slow runs develop your cardiovascular system the same amount or less than hard runs, but have a lower risk of injury
3. Slow runs develop your cardiovascular system the same amount or less than hard runs per mile, but you can do more miles
4. Slow runs increase your anaerobic threshold (this might be the same as #1?)
5. Slow runs burn more fat (per mile? per hour? relatively?) than hard runs, which burn more glycogen

Well? Which of these are true? Let me know.

Fanatic

After I wrote yesterday’s post, I did go grocery shopping — good — and then I got sucked back into work to fix a bug and let us get another build in before today. I go to sleep at 10. It was 10 when I got to work. You do the math.

Today I walked four miles during lunch, and planned not to run tonight. I find it hard to stick to that plan. I’d probably be running right now, if absolutely all my running clothes weren’t in the laundry. It would be best if I rested. But I don’t wanna! M. says I’ve become fanatical. I suppose he’s right.

For dinner tonight, I had the first meat-based (buffalo, specifically) hamburger I’ve eaten since December. With sauteed mushrooms and jalepenos, and alfalfa sprouts. On the side? Raw broccoli. The poor burger frowned on the plate, distressed to have wandered into such an unpleasant granola neighborhood. Still, it was good.

Running in the Rain — what’s the difference?

So yesterday, I was right: I didn’t get out and buy groceries, or do any of the other chores I should have. In fact I fell asleep around five or six, woke briefly at eight, and was back to sleep for good by ten. Sad, no? Yes.

That means I really, really need to go grocery shopping tonight. And it’s eight pm already, so I’ll make this quick.

After work I went over to the Portland Running Company and browsed their apparel selection. I was looking for shorts, but it didn’t seem urgent, since it was cold and raining this evening. Instead, I picked up a water-resistant Asics vest. I’ve been looking for a vest for inclement weather for a while: a full raincoat is way too much, when I’m running. I forgot to bring water, so I  also bought a bottle of Powerade. Okay. Enough product placement. (If only I got paid…)

PRC Beaverton is right on the Fanno Creek trail, so I did my run from there. Did I mention it was rainy? Very rainy? I did five miles, splits of 9:40, 9:45, 9:58, 10:04, and 11:12. I was trying to throw in some interval running, “sprinting” the last 2/10 or so of each mile, and running slow to start the next. It was work. I feel a lot better now though.

I don’t like doing most things in the rain, but I don’t much mind running in it. I was giving my friend M. a hard time about this — he’s the one I have the $50 competition with for a 5K in September. He mentioned that if it was rainy and nasty, he wasn’t going to run it. I didn’t understand. What’s the difference? Running might be fun, sort of, but it sure isn’t comfortable. So the rain doesn’t make it uncomfortable: it’s already there. And if you actually get cold when you’re running in the rain, well, you’re just not running hard enough. Then again, the Zoloft has my internal thermostat running 10% hot or so, so his mileage may, and probably does, vary.

I’m Beat!

I had a bug I really needed to get fixed today, so I went into work after this morning’s ten-miler. It was all I could do not to fall asleep. Running with a low-level code is tough on the system. After hours of struggle (including some really stupid self-imposed errors) I finally put the bug to rest. Ideally, I’d shop for groceries, do some cleaning, or groom at least one of the dogs tonight. I’m not sure any of that’s going to happen… ZZZZzzzzz

Long run

I wanted to run 10 miles and I decided to do an out-and-back up Leif Erikson Drive. This is a dirt-and-gravel road that hugs Forest Park’s northeast slopes and is open only to pedestrians and bicyclists. You access it from the end of NW Thurman Street, which turns into a half-mile-long parking lot on weekends. I got there before 8:00am, so it wasn’t too bad yet. Leif Erikson, at least for the first five miles in, is gently yet relentlessly uphill. Then, when you turn around, you find that it also, somehow, seems to be mostly uphill on the way back.

I wore my Camelbak and took along a Clif Bar and a Clif Shot. I had the shot at the five mile mark — ick — and the Bar after the run. At one point around mile seven, I had a sharp little pain in my left calf, but it went away quickly. My legs felt heavy and my lungs were still a little congested. I ran slowly — 12 minutes miles up the hill and 10-11 minutes back down. My calves are feeling it. But I made it (total time 1:50 for the 10 miles), I never stopped running at all, and I set a new personal longest run.

Bridge to Bridge

I registered for next Sundays’ Bridge to Bridge 10K, billed as the only running event in town to go over the Fremont Bridge. (There’s also a bicycling event that does it, I think.) Yay! Running on a freeway: another lifetime dream to be realized.

Rest day meanderings

After my seven-miler yesterday and my six the day before, neither done entirely at an easy pace, I could feel my body asking for some recovery time: my calves were muscle-sore and I was tired all over. So, it’s a Saturday, the weather is nice, but I’m taking a rest day. In fact, I’ve come into work. So far, I haven’t actually done any work, but I’m at work — that counts, right? Before work I got a haircut. Supercuts. Yeah. I hate getting haircuts. Although it’s not so bad now that I no longer find it to be torture to talk to people. Apparently I’ve been parting my hair on the wrong side. My whole life, I’ve been fighting my cowlick. I think it’s true. I was grateful for her telling me and peeved that nobody else ever had.

I love the exploratory aspect of running. Check out this post by local trainer and runner Coach Joe.  That really is a great part of the experience, getting down on street level and really finding out about a neighborhood. Finding out where the shortcuts are that cars can’t go. Finding out where you can run for long uninterrupted stretches. Finding out where the other runners are. Google Maps needs a view that only shows pedestrian and bike paths. Cars dominate our landscape and it is depressing.

I’m wearing my green Shamrock Run shirt today, Saint Patrick’s Day, so nobody can pinch me. Rats. Maybe I could use a good pinching.

Schweddy Balls

(You know, Schweddy Balls?)

It was sunny and remarkably warm in Portland today. Time to run in shorts. I wanted to go over to the Portland Running Company in Beaverton, get some new shorts, and run the Fanno Creek trail from there, but I5 north was shut down completely at 217 on my commute home, so I was running late and running out of daylight. I decided I would go to run with the shorts I had, not the shorts I wanted. (Apologies to Rumsfeld.) I have two likely pairs, both actually swim trunks: one oversized polyester number, and one snugger-fitting cotton job. I’d run in the polyester one a few days earlier, and didn’t enjoy how they flopped around, especially if I had anything at all in the pockets. So, ugh, cotton it was.

They weren’t uncomfortable. They had great pockets. (I carried only my driver’s license, a credit card, and my car keys.) They didn’t get soaked with sweat. But, three miles into my run, I looked down and saw that… certain… parts of my anatomy were indeed sweating and that sweat was soaked through and making a very visible wet spot: yes, not to mince words, my sweaty balls made it look like I didn’t have full bladder control. The shame.

As long as I’m talking anatomy, let me note that tonight I pinpointed my NCT. It’s seven miles. NCT, of course, is the Nipple Chafing Threshold. At least in my New Balance running shirt, it’s at the seven mile mark that I start to notice the first signs of chafing.

So, my run: I started at the Garden Home Rec Center, ran around the Portland Country Club, including an off-road, off-trail section through the Oregon Episcopal School wetlands, then did another out and back to bring the total mileage to 7.18. I started off easy (under 80% max heart rate) for the first four miles – 9:56, 11:26, 11:22, 12:19. Interesting how much faster the first mile was — and it had the lowest heart rate of the four. I ramped it up a little bit for mile five — 10:59 — then decided I would go all out and see what I could do in mile six. It came in at 8:03, my fastest ever mile by one second (and the previous 8:04 was mile two of a 5K, with a steep downhill). Happy and panting from that effort, I did an easy-by-comparison 10:54 mile seven.

I’m always a little nervous running in uncharted territory — coming to a dead-end is a psychological blow for me — so my crossing of the Episcopal School wetlands was a pretty interesting adventure.

How great is running with a GPS? I love my Garmin Forerunner 305 (plug plug plug). Its main value is the heart rate monitoring and the distance calculations, true. But never underestimate the sheer pleasure of looking at the maps. Click on the image there. You can actually see the track go right over one of the logs I had to run across! (I guess the GPS had a little more inaccuracy or sample error for the second set of logs.) I successfully navigated the wetlands, log crossings and all, and emerged victorious into the Montclair Elementary parking lot.

Surely my blog will have a major influence on your television watching habits

I’m in the middle of watching the first episode of Andy Barker, P.I. Please watch it too, to make sure they make plenty more episodes of this work of purest genius. Thank you in advance.

Yellow Man Group

I was puzzling all day about where I wanted to run, then I got a call from my stepson and it turned out I needed to meet him briefly at his downtown apartment. So it made sense to run there. I wanted a flat course today, so I thought I would make a couple loops around the waterfront. Upsides: a lot of runners, all off-street, enjoyable scenery. Downsides: a lot of runners, cement paths, not asphalt (they say cement’s much worse on the legs), and a lot of road noise from I5 on the east side.

I got downtown at six and decided I would be a big boy and figure out how the hell to use the automated kiosks that replaced parking meters downtown. The first kiosk I used didn’t seem to work. I think. I fiddled with it like an idiot for long enough, anyway. I had better luck at the one around the corner. Even figuring out how they wanted you to affix the tag spit out by the machine to the window was a puzzler. I got there eventually. I guess the upside is that it takes credit cards.

Oh, what? You were more interested in my run than in hearing about my parking? You are selfish. Parking is a major preoccupation of mine and you should bask in every word.

OK: the run. No heart monitoring. I wanted to do at least five miles. I did six. (Hard to see in the GPS trail above, but I did two laps around.) I wanted to beat a 10:00 pace. My splits were 9:28, 9:20, 9:37, 9:19, 9:34, and 10:03, the last with a good bit of uphill as I headed back to the car. I wanted to enjoy myself. I did. As I mentioned before, Portland Fit decides which color group you’re in based on your pace for a three-mile run during their first meeting, March 31. Looks like I’m a lock for yellow. Look at me, I’m a fast slow runner!

Cocktail week continues

Monday night I had Margaritas with dinner. (One regular, one blackberry. Yeah. Frou-frou, I know it. And they were blended, worse yet. But the blackberry one was actually pretty good. It spread down our long table like a virus: I saw somebody’s oddly-colored Margarita to my left and asked what it was; after mine came, a buzz of excitement about it kicked off to my right.) Tuesday night it was a Bloody Mary while playing dominos. (“Do you want it spicy?” “No, I just order Bloody Marys because I’m an idiot, thanks!”) Wednesday night, it was a Dirty Martini at the Outback steakhouse. I don’t think I’d ever go to Outback if I were paying — too mediocre for the price — but it’s fun when somebody else picks up the tab. Even if that somebody else orders a filet mignon, well done. I’m pretty sure that’s a crime against humanity. I also had a Guinness at the wine bar on the Tualatin Commons, Parallel 45. So that’s five drinks in three nights. Overdoing it a little, I guess. Just going out three nights in a row is some sort of new record for me. I’m building up a lot of guilt that I’m not spending enough time with my dogs. Poor little guys.

It’s a beautiful day, it’s staying light later, and I have no plans for tonight, so I’m going to do my running this evening. I haven’t decided where yet. I think I’ll drive somewhere instead of just doing it from my house. Maybe Terwilliger, maybe Fanno Creek.

My first run in the pitch dark

So things are still busy at work, and I’m supposed to go out to dinner tonight after. I didn’t get any exercise at all yesterday, either: after work I went to a MiPL thing to learn to play the Texas domino game “42″. Oh, and to have a Bloody Mary. Mmmmm the cocktail that’s also a meal :-)

Anyway, as I was saying… I was a slacker yesterday and didn’t see where I was going to squeeze in a run today, so I woke up a half hour earlier than usual and did a morning run around my usual hilly home loop. I had breakfast first, to give myself a chance to rehydrate a bit. When I got out there, though, it was still pitch dark. Thank you, Daylight Savings Time. I had a little glowing LED strip to hopefully make myself visible, and a flashlight if I needed it.

Since I’m still a bit congested, I took it easy. I didn’t turn on the heart rate zone alarm, but every time I glanced at my heart rate it was in the high 70 or low 80 percentage-of-max range. I ran 2.8 miles in 34 minutes, or 12:08 miles. I wish I had more time. I can’t wait for the weekend. I really, really can’t wait until we get the release out the door at work, and I take some time off.

Sneaking in a run

We’re trying to ship the latest version of the software at work, and we also have all the sales people in town for the quarterly ops review, so it’s a busy time. The company dinner last night took up most of a Mexican restaurant: 40 people. It’s kind of alarming to see the division grown so big. Before the dinner, I drove home to let the dogs outside, and decided to work in a quick run too. I ran 3.5 miles in 34:32, with the first three miles 9:18, 9:17, and 9:32. I was running comfortably, not killing myself. The last half mile was dramatically slower thanks to a monstrous quarter-mile hill. I ended up walking the last part of it.

Surprise, my legs are still good

Surprisingly enough after this weekend — snowshoeing while sick, then running hard in my first 5K, for those of you who haven’t been keeping up — I have no shin splints, knee pain, or even sore muscles. Feeling great. Two months ago I couldn’t run a mile, unless it was all downhill. The progress makes me happy. I’m also down about five pounds since then, and just three pounds short of my goal weight of 155.

This cold is definitely tailing off. I still have a stuffed nose on and off (or, in my charming vernacular, “the ol’ snot-locker is full”)  but I’m feeling a lot more alert. The sore throat is gone, and though I’ve been coughing up a little phlegm here and there, it’s a relief that it never seriously got into my lungs.

Race Report: Shamrock Run 5K

So as I said in my last post, I went to sleep ludicrously early (5:30 or 6:30 pm, depending if you factor in the daylight savings time switch that night) and slept well through the night. When my alarm went off at 5:15, I could have still used a little more sleep (yes, yes, 10 3/4 hours wasn’t quite enough for me — hey, I’m sick!) but I got up and showered and ate breakfast. I’ve seen people talking about not eating much the morning of a race. They seem to be worried about nausea, or cramps, or something. Until I hit that problem, I’m going to keep on eating, thanks.

I put on my running pants and my light short-sleeved Coolmax shirt, threw on a raincoat, strapped on the Garmin, dithered over whether to use the heart rate strap, finally decided yes, threw my backpack of extra clothes in the car and walked down my driveway to see if the paper was there yet. It wasn’t, but I was shocked how warm it felt for 6:20 in the morning. I wondered, seriously, if I were feverish.

Apparently not. Portland is supposed to be getting a “Pineapple Express” this weekend: rain and warm air pushing up from the tropics. Early this morning, the rain wasn’t here yet, but the warm air sure was. After I got downtown and collected my bib number and tee shirt, I left all the extra clothes I had brought in my car and hung out comfortably before the start in the short sleeves. The announcers called it the warmest, driest, and darkest Shamrock Run in recent memory.

I never did figure out which clump of people might have been the MiPL group, and I wasn’t feeling super-social: too excited about running, maybe. I was feeling thirsty and in need of some caffeine, though. I found an espresso truck parked in the tent area. I got a 16 oz mocha. The woman in line in front of me saw I had a bib number on and said “you’re running? And you’re not afraid of drinking that now?” (She was there to cheer her husband on.) “Uh, sure, I guess,” I said. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“You’re running the 5K? Sure, you can finish quickly, then throw up.”

The way I see it, if I ever work my way up to ultramarathons, I’m going to have to learn to eat and run. No use letting my body off the hook for these short runs, then. Besides, it really hit the spot right then!

A little later, I found the water table and had a cup of water too. I had drank quite a bit of water at home as well, but I still didn’t feel sloshy, or even need to pee. Seemed like a good sign that the water was being taken up well. Or something.

I wrenched my eyes away from all the sweet running babes milling around and went over to the starting area with about 10 minutes left until the 7:45 start. I headed toward the back of the pack that had already gathered, which put me somewhere in the middle by the time the gun went off. The metaphorical gun. Really, they just said “three, two, one, go!” or something. At which point, naturally, we still had to stand there as the front of the crowd moved out. Then slowly walk. At one point here I broke into a little mincing jog, but it wasn’t long-lasting. Even after getting past the tape and starting my watch, it was pretty slow going.

Turning up Davis, then cutting back to Burnside, I was swept up in the novelty of running in such a sea of people. And I was happy to see that plenty of other people were running a similar pace. (Sure, this included small children. So?) I concentrated on my breathing and hardly noticed the uphill up Burnside to Ninth. After an annoying series of turns (most of which I took the outside on, adding about .08 of a mile to my total distance in the end) the heart of the race started: the trudge up Broadway.

I had checked the course profile, and I knew this was going to be the hard part. North to south, Broadway gains a good bit of elevation. My plan was to take it easy, then charge the downhill after. Though I might get a better time if I threw in a few walk breaks, I didn’t want to — I’d rather get the endurance training in. Mile 2, up the hill, seemed to take forever. I was far from the only one huffing and puffing though. Finally we reached Harrison and turned left — and sharply downhill.

I was winded, but excited to be passing people left and right as I flew down the hill like only a maniacal wanna-be trail runner with delusions of having an indestructible knee can. Somewhere in here was an unexpected water table, and I grabbed a cup and had a few sips on the run. More trouble than it was worth, not spilling. I splashed the rest on my face, just because it seemed like it would be fun, and ran on. I was past the garbage pails already and didn’t want to be a litterbug. I crumpled up the cup and stuck it in my pants pocket. Such environmental sensitivity!

I ran the mile that included this downhill in 8:04, a nice negative split and certainly my fastest mile ever. Once we hit Naito and turned left toward the finish line, things got a little mentally tougher. It was mostly a mild downhill or flat, with a few gently uphills, but having the finish line in sight yet still far away made it hard for me to keep running in a controlled fashion. The atmosphere around me had really changed too: nobody was chatting or laughing anymore; there was more loud huffing and puffing than smiles. I tried to convince myself that I still had to run several more miles to keep myself on a sustainable pace. I guess it worked a little. But I was tired, and little parts of my brain were asking “can we stop and walk? Huh? Please?”

I sprinted as best I could through the finish area and crossed the tape in 28:45. My official time will be considerably longer, I guess, since they didn’t have chip timing and will have to go by gun-to-tape. My goal was to finish under 30:00, though, so I’m very happy. And, no, I didn’t throw up, or have any nausea. I can eat and run, damn it! I had a little stomach stitch during the uphill, but it went away. I collected my free after-race beer and — get this — clam chowder, hung around just a few minutes more, and came back home.

Update:

Official time:  29:42 (Yes! Still sub-30!)
447 th out of 1228 men
56th out of 173 men aged 35-39

You know, I just started running. I’m pretty damned proud of that result.

Snowshoe Saturday

I’d committed to snowshoeing on Saturday with the usual snowshoe gang, if it wasn’t raining Saturday morning. I was secretly hoping it would rain: still sick, I was worried if I would be able to keep up. And then the Shamrock Run was the next morning. But Saturday morning dawned, warm, cloudy, and rainless. I blew my nose furiously and trudged over to John’s.

It was worth it.

Worth it just for the photo there. That’s June Lake, a 2.5 mile hike in and up from the Marble Mountain Snow Park. Amazingly, it’s also where we were trying to go! Yes, after three trips, we managed to make one without getting lost! Huzzah!

It was beautiful up there, and I felt pretty good during the five mile hike. The snow was in much, much better condition for shoeing this time than last week. But I could tell I was plowing through my energy reserves. I got back to my house around four. I did some calculating.

• I was exhausted and sleepy
• I wanted to be downtown for the Shamrock Run before 7am the next morning
• The clock was “springing forward” that night. Depending on how you looked at it, that meant I actually wanted to be downtown before 6:00, or that it was already 5pm, not 4:00.
• I thought I could sleep for 12 hours, no problem

So, yes, I had dinner and went to sleep at 5:30 / 6:30. I didn’t have any trouble falling asleep and slept right through until the morning, except for the usual trips downstairs to let the dogs out.

Butte to Butte

W00t! Mom scored me a free entry into Eugene’s Butte to Butte! Now why is it that saving the $17 entry fee on a race I probably wasn’t going to do before seems so exciting somehow? Maybe it’s the thrill of planning the first race I’ll have to travel a little for. Maybe I’m just crazy. It’s the morning of July 4th, a 10K with a fairly brutal uphill start. I’m sure I’ll be in good shape for that by then.

Lunchtime walk and unplanned jog

I’m still under the weather, curse it, but I did get out for a walk at lunch. Well, it was supposed to be a walk. But when I got to the part through the park on the little forested singletrack trail by the river, it was just so soft and nice a surface that I had to jog it — to have not would have been a wasted pleasure. I probably ran about a mile and walked another 2.4. I stopped at Taco Del Mar on the way back and got their Friday Fish Taco special — a good deal, two big fish tacos and a drink for $3.99. Yes, I know I’m only fooling myself if I think a fish taco is healthy. Let alone two. Oh well.

I feel a good bit better after my walk-slash-jog than I had before it. I think a little activity reminds the cold that I have better things to be doing and it is time it moseyed along.

Tycho Brahe died that way, you know

No, not the Tycho from Penny Arcade. The older Tycho Brahe. The one they once thought died from holding in his pee too long. Gather round and hear my dramatic tale:

I was coming home tonight from a MiPL dinner at Ken’s Artisan Pizza. (On the off chance anyone there is reading this, Hi! Please give me lots of humiliation about this embarrassing story the next time we meet!) I had to pee a little leaving the restaurant. But nothing serious. Not nearly badly enough to conquer my usual hesitancy toward unfamiliar restrooms.

Mere minutes after getting in my car, the urge intensified. By the time I was on the Burnside bridge, it was pretty serious. As I swung around onto Front Street to head for I5 south, I started to consider my options:

1. Hold out no matter what. See Tycho Brahe again.
2. Park downtown and find someplace to pee. Uh-huh. Good luck. The official sign of downtown Portland is “Absolutely No Public Restrooms.” Besides, who knows how long finding parking might take?
3. Pee my pants. You know, if I wasn’t afraid of staining the car seats (or imparting a smell), this was a very tempting option.
4. Hope I had a bottle lying within reach. I didn’t.
5. Turn off I5 at Terwilliger and defile a tree in George Himes park.

Really, I thought I could make it home. I always have before. Mind over matter — just don’t think about it. Or embrace the pain. OK, that didn’t work. With a mile to go for the Terwilliger exit, I made my decision and got over to the right lane. That exit puts you on Barbur northbound, with a signal to turn left onto Terwilliger. Red. I strongly reconsidered option three. I whimpered. I squirmed. Green! Go! Houses, houses, houses… park! There’s the park! Now where can I park?! Aiii, no pull-outs in this section! Should I just park in the bike lane? A side road! Turn! Park! Big tree. Go, go, unzip dammit! Ahhhhh. Glancing to my left, I wasn’t exactly out of view of houses over there. Huddle closer to the tree. Lean against the tree. Here’s a map to the tree. I love you, tree. OK, I’ve been peeing a while now. I guess I should cut the pee short and finish up at home.

That’s it, that’s my tale of woe. And I wasn’t even drunk. My kidneys hurt for a few moments there too — a feeling I really don’t want to have. I know what hurting kidneys feel like already, thanks.

Oh, how was Ken’s Artisan Pizza? It was very, very good. All about the crust and sauce, as all great pizza is. And the heat of the oven. I had a Pizza Margarita with arugula, and also tried slices of lamb sausage and prosciutto.  All great. Good luck getting a table!  (I am sure Ken is thrilled to have this review in here after the story of my bladder.)

I am so very, very sorry I taunted you, Mr. Cold. I apologize unreservedly.

Probably I shouldn’t have run yesterday. The cold just got worse during the day, with a runny nose and drowsiness joining the tickly throat. I left work a few hours early to just go home and rest. Bleagh. I feel maybe a little better this morning, but I’m not sure.

Another morning run

The cold still lingers; last night I went to sleep at 8:30 or so, I was so tired. But I was resolved to run in the morning if the cold still has mostly above the neck. I read that somewhere, that if the illness is above the neck, as opposed to in the lungs, exercise is okay. Well, maybe it’s a little in the lungs. Not much. Running should scare it into submission. The cold will be afraid to hang out in those active lungs and will try to hide in my appendix or something. Hmm. This has all become rather stream-of-consciousness. Maybe I’m delerious :-P

Anyway, I got up and had a glass of water and a few pieces of Trader Joe’s chocolate-covered mission figs and hit the road. No heart monitoring. The hilly home course. The warm-up mile, mostly uphill, was 12:20, the middle mile, flatter with more downhill, 9:48, and the last 3/4 mile was on a 10:00 pace. I really feel like I’m on the bubble as far as which pace group I’ll qualify for when Portland Fit starts. You can see here that the red group (“we’re slow and we’re proud” is their motto, I’ve read) is 10+ minutes/mile and the yellow group (um, “we’re not the red group,” I’m guessing?) is 9-10 minutes. I’ve no illusion about getting sustainably under 9 minutes in three weeks, but it seems like I should be reliably under 10 on a flat, if I don’t hurt myself again. Then I start worrying that to try would be artificially pushing myself and I’d be better off as a red.

Rest-day stroll

It’s a recovery day for me, so I walked three miles during lunch. (Or does that make it a “light workout” day? Whatever.) I was surprised and disappointed to develop — or maybe re-inflame? — blisters on the balls of my feet during the walk; three miles is a stroll in the park. I think maybe my shoes were a little loose. Either that or I’m ready to start with the duct tape business. Don’t get me wrong. I’ll take blisters over shin splints any time. And I’m glad to be getting more practiced at recognizing the feelings associated with early blister formation: first it feels hot, then it feels like there’s a little rock in there.

I still have my sore throat; maybe a little worse even. I guess the virii didn’t take kindly to yesterday’s taunts.

This is the strangest cold, or whatever it is

My throat’s been a little scratchy and I’ve been coughing up a little phlegm in the morning for at least three days now. That’s it. No other symptoms. It’s getting neither better nor worse. It’s a little strange. One almost wants to tell the virii in there to sh** or get off the can, you know?

Oh, I just remembered something — with my little incursion north of Denny Road today, I’ve now been on every existing segment of the Fanno Creek trail.  They are supposed to be connecting that little part with the section that starts at the Garden Home Rec center soon; supposedly construction has begun. I think they also want to get the 214 crossing off of the Denny overpass and along the rails and under the highway by the creek somehow, but that seems sketchier. Then there’s a big gap north of downtown Tigard, including an annoying crossing of 99. I’m not holding my breath on that one. I’m more optimistic that they’ll continue the trail south from Hall (this is the second, southern intersection the creek makes with Hall, this one near the Tigard library) and connect it up all the way to Cook Park or the Durham City Park. With the new footbridge over the Tualatin River that opened last month, that would connect up the trail all the way to the Tualatin Commons area. If you look at the maps of the Fanno Creek trail, you’ll see a dotted line that indicates a planned future route continuing east from the Garden Home Rec Center all the way to the Willamette, but it turns out that this section is mostly planned to be one of those oxymoronic (and possibly plain old moronic) “urban trails”: just designated routes on sidewalks and bike lanes. Boo, hiss. A real off-road path connecting up to the Willamette and Terwilliger Road trails would be terrific, but I guess it’s not to be. (Of course, in SW Portland, even decent sidewalks aren’t a given, so I guess the idea is better than nothing.)

On a completely unrelated topic, uh, when did Alton Brown grow a beard? That is just so wrong. (Yeah, so I’m watching the Food Network. Wanna make something of it?)

Black viscous sludge in my mouth

I forgot to mention that I tried a Clif Shot energy gel during this morning’s run, the double-shot espresso flavor. Just to experiment with these things. I was expecting something more like Jello, not a thick, viscous, sludge of questionable flavor. It was disgusting. I’m not sure yet if it was addictive-disgusting (like Red Bull, say) or just plain disgusting. I will note that I did squeeze the package to make sure I got every last drop, and licked my fingers. But that might have just been to get the sticky black goo off of them.

I walked the dogs just now: 2.3 miles. They enjoyed it. It’s a beautiful day out there.

Long, ahem, Run

I wanted to run six miles this morning, keeping the heart under 80% max. It felt so great, and so easy, that I ran more than eight, and still kind of wanted to keep going. But, thinking of my knee, I stopped. The knee still feels great, now. I ran on the main segment of the Fanno Creek trail. At one point on the return trip, I actually made a wrong turn and found myself lost. “I don’t remember seeing any tennis courts before… I know I’ve never seen that school!” I was kind of amazed, I didn’t think it was possible. I ran onward and found myself on Greenway Blvd, which I knew intersected Hall near the trail; I wanted to get to that intersection. But I felt all turned around and wasn’t sure which way Hall was. And I have too much Y chromosome floating around in my cells to stop and ask someone “which way to Hall?” Maybe, just maybe, I thought, I can use this funny GPS thing I have strapped to my wrist to figure it out? It doesn’t have any mapping capability, but it will show you a track of your route. I did that and figured out that I needed to turn right. It worked!

Eight point one seven miles is by far the longest I’ve run without stopping. (My old record was around four.) I use the word “running” in a loose sense here — even “jogging” might be generous. Like I said, I was keeping my heart rate down in the fitness zone. The good thing about that is that you feel like you could run forever. And after five miles or so, the high still kicks in and you feel great. The bad news is that you’re running 13-minute miles, or worse. You’d be getting passed by race-walkers, if there were any race-walkers. It takes you a long time to catch and pass senior citizens out for a stroll. Women run by you with a vaguely concerned look, like maybe you suffered some sort of debilitating coronary event a few hundred meters back that’s slowing you down now.

Mile splits: 12:18, 13:28, 13:50, 13:50, 13:14, 13:28, 13:13, 12:30. Total run time: 1:46:49. Weather: cool and mostly sunny. Surface: asphalt, with significant puddles. Shoes: soaked.