I’m on a 1:05-long run when I hear the baby bird’s distress call. (First a bit about 1:05. Be patient, I’ll get to the wee bird.)
I’m in the Boston Marathon 2012. I received an email confirmation on Sept. 15th. A runner’s (in my case, since 1976) lifelong dream. And I’m determined not to do what I did last year: overtrain and injure myself. This time I’m not going to go into body-punishing training until 105 days before the race.
That means I’ve got about 105 days that, every other day, I’ll be doing my 1:05 tone-up run. In order to be strong, have a good physical base from which to ramp up in those final, critical 105 days before the marathon on Monday, April 16.
Running for Your Life: Elevators, Bathrooms, Fountains
A, A young man I know confined to a wheelchair who doesn’t miss a beat in his courageous life, knows how to get to every elevator in the Manhattan section of the New York Subway system.
M will chart every urban journey across Manhattan and a big chunk of Brooklyn keeping in mind the location of every public bathroom.
I won’t begin a long run without having a mental picture of where I will find public drinking fountains, and how much I will need to drink from them, as I go on my way.
Author Paul Theroux once said urban neighborhoods are like a small section of a jungle that natives know and exploit to their needs and fashion. Beyond that section they are uneasy, out of place. Because that land is another group’s territory.
M will chart every urban journey across Manhattan and a big chunk of Brooklyn keeping in mind the location of every public bathroom.
I won’t begin a long run without having a mental picture of where I will find public drinking fountains, and how much I will need to drink from them, as I go on my way.
Author Paul Theroux once said urban neighborhoods are like a small section of a jungle that natives know and exploit to their needs and fashion. Beyond that section they are uneasy, out of place. Because that land is another group’s territory.
Running for Your Life: When the Impossible Becomes Possible
On 9/11/11, a Sunday, M and I, en route to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, are stopped by a German-speaking couple who ask for the closest subway. Eastern Parkway, we tell them, straight ahead. We are going in that direction, too, but somewhat slower, in deep conversation. They thank us and hurry along the sidewalk.
September 11 is always a bit hard for me, but this one, ten years after, despite the onslaught of media remembrances, has snuck up on me. The garden is our preferred public sanctuary, where we like to walk and talk about our feelings, and on 9/11/11, with no sign to indicate why, it is open free for non-members. One of the first groups we see in the garden are the Germans who stop and give us a wide smile. Hmm, it looks like they are going to spending time in the garden instead of the subway. We see them a couple of times later, each time exchanging smiles, until it is time for me to go to work where I edit stories, manage graphics and write headlines for a living.
September 11 is always a bit hard for me, but this one, ten years after, despite the onslaught of media remembrances, has snuck up on me. The garden is our preferred public sanctuary, where we like to walk and talk about our feelings, and on 9/11/11, with no sign to indicate why, it is open free for non-members. One of the first groups we see in the garden are the Germans who stop and give us a wide smile. Hmm, it looks like they are going to spending time in the garden instead of the subway. We see them a couple of times later, each time exchanging smiles, until it is time for me to go to work where I edit stories, manage graphics and write headlines for a living.
Running for Your Life: Thinking Marathon and, Yes, 9-11
One week from Boston registration. Through the summer more than intact. Since this time last year, my longest training run: one hour, thirty minutes. And today (Wed., Sept. 7) I neared that, 1:25, and plenty of gas left in the tank. Months since I’ve felt even a twinge in the torn upper right hamstring, my dreaded forefoot pain has flared up only once this summer, and I’ve done nothing to medicate it, just stayed true to a regimen, using weight machines at the gym, focusing on calves, hamstrings, butt and hip muscles, a lateral/shoulder workout, elliptical, nightly pushups (one set, sixty per), the latter of which helps in balance of thrust. Feel that my strides are softer, so that aches and pains after a run are minimal. I must and will get in the habit of stretching after long runs, which really help to relieve muscle strain and ward off injury.
Running for Your Life: Back to the Fire
Love the run (Sept. 2) to the phallic spear, west Fire Island, a herd of deer graze on the lawn oval, from my starting place from Dunewood, probably three miles, am thinking that I can run much farther, amazed at the lack of Irene damage, some salt water, diseased-looking trees, toppled over, some dead, undergrowth, except it seems for a tiny oasis, mosquitoes at night but not now in the breeze, nip in the air, which also helps.
Elsewhere, the breeding grounds for the Minnesota state bird expand under near-compromised homes on stilts. Remember nowhere can a basement flood here. The depth of the land itself no great shakes, literally a spit of sand in the ocean, laugh riot of a reality TV show, Survivor: Fire Island. Look for it.
Elsewhere, the breeding grounds for the Minnesota state bird expand under near-compromised homes on stilts. Remember nowhere can a basement flood here. The depth of the land itself no great shakes, literally a spit of sand in the ocean, laugh riot of a reality TV show, Survivor: Fire Island. Look for it.
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