Every week, the Saturday morning marathon training group seems to add and subtract new folks. Today, with great weather, I'm placed with the 10 milers; ok make that 8. Coach seems to map out the routes with markers that become some sort of 'negotiations'. Regardless, today's route puts me back on the bigger loop I began with, a lovely circle north, then over to the beach and down a long stretch by the ocean. My 'pack' is a group of comfortable 9 min. milers, and a girl who, much younger than me, claims to be a 12 min. miler. Yea, right. USED to be. She's more compact than I am, and I watch her stride for hints as to how she manages those efficient fast steps. She's full of helpful advise: lean slightly, kick the heels up, don't let your hands cross. They're doing the Galloway run, walk breaks, and despite my early grasp on them, they begin to be perpetually ahead. I am pacing myself to run as full out as I can and not crash and burn. This is an 8 miler after all! And no breaks at the park, etc., just Coach's Accelerade at mile 4.
It's the turn-around point, the group is passing me back up the sidewalk. A gusty shower breaks out thats right in my face. I see Tracey up ahead, set myself against the wind and start back. Making the turn on to Sunrise, past Hugh Birch park, I head over the intracoastal when the sun must have broken through the clouds over the ocean behind me, and above a HUGE rainbow breaks out from one end of the sky to the other, capping the perfect disk of a pearly moon. Wow.....I have to remind myself to watch my feet on the tricky walk, up and over. I yell out to every other runner I see "Look up!" The last rainbow I saw was when Michael and Yu were leaving the apartment here and out the back, over the parking lot a rainbow had broken out after another fast cloudburst. This rainbow trail has connected me from then to now. I followed the road back to the store where all the spent and happy runners were stretching, logging miles, comparing notes. I was happy to log mine. Met another Broward County employee runner, and laughed about bueraucracy and red tape. Changed out and took a last breath of the very good, moist air that took me all the way from one end of that rainbow to the other.
Signs of success seem to be telling me that something I am doing is coming around right after all. The week's demands at work, which were daunting, confounding and disheartening, came with unexpected support and opportunities to shine. The universe is cooking up plans to lengthen the distance in my expectations for happiness. As I run this road towards my future, it appears surprising and magical things are there to provide signposts, confirmation, motivation. It's ok now, settle in to your stride. If the ride is right, the elements that come to make up the journey will converge to give you a true story, a wonderful story of courage, light and love.
It's all there waiting for us, right around the next bend in the road.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Coach
The tropical depression that brought buckets of rain to the Gulf threw a few tails of storms in its wake in our direction; last night wild lightening storms glittered the sky. I canvased the news to try to decipher if marathon training would take place, even emailed coach Robert about weather. His response? ....we train in the rain...if its lightening, duck! etc. LOL. When I finally hit the bed I figure, see what's happening at 5AM. ...... Skies were clear. I throw on my gear, pack and leave. At the store, my 2 prior running buddies are missing, and in their place is Laura, short, compact, looking kind of fast, all business. Coach asks me, what are you doing? I say, I don't know, I had a hard week. Put in 34 miles, last run felt sluggish, and didn't run yesterday. He says, do 7, go with her- and points to Laura. Ipod wires at the ready, she seems good natured, and definitely ready to roll. As we cut out the door she says, don't worry I'm a 9 minute miler. I laugh; I say I'm just along for the ride, knowing this is faster than me.
The pitch black pre-dawn is heavy with moisture from the night's storms. Another group of runners, 4 milers, are already out ahead. Sure enough, Laura sets out- bam- a beautiful efficient gait that's eating up the sidewalk. For the ride towards the beach I just try to keep her in sight. We pass the group. At the beach we turn south and other groups of runners, bikers, are scattered like troops setting out to distant lands....Laura is by now too far to see. I'm churning down the big sidewalk of A1A, terrified of tripping, unable to see my feet. They seem to land with a plop-plop sound that seems hesitant and awkward. I am not feeling it. I figure we are in to our second to third mile or so heading for Las Olas, and I watch the bigger groups across the road skimming the beach; they look young, confident. I start to hear the talk in my head; what am I doing out here? I get so cocky, think I'm so great, then I make it out here with all these "real" runners and stumble along. I notice this self-talk. I know Laura is long gone. There's a drunk guy in my way, weaving and stumbling. I feel a little scared. I feel alone. I remember I'm supposed to turn right at Las Olas....and when I do, there's coach! "alright then, there you are, keep going straight on you'll see the bridge..." in his british accent. OK! Then I'm immediately lost again, winding through what is probably straight on but feels like I have temporarily fallen into a whirlpool of side streets. But there it is, the bridge over, and off I go! As I round the top I take a minute to look out at the boats in their slips, the few subtle colors of pinks, corals just coming off the sky, reflected in the water, the fairy tale houses that lean over each other on the banks......ah...coming down, I'm wondering ok, how far until I turn? Each right hand turn is a spit by the water. Just as I wonder where in the world I go, I see the lanky figure in his Team Ft. Lauderdale shirt, with his old master's gait, eating up the sidewalk, coming towards me. There you go! and he gives me my next set of points, as he leads me in to the water station at mile 4. Whew!!
From there its more directions while he heads up the road. I stop a good little while and soak up the Accelerade. I'm bushed, its damp, and now just coming light. I look up the road and see lush quiet neighborhood; my kind of running road! So feeling refreshed, I head up.
The silence of residential neighborhoods in early morning is glorious. In this one, the perfect Florida formula of old houses with big, lush landscape inspires me....I hug the water as the street rounds east and catches Victoria Park and north again, past other smaller greenways....amazing what I find in the runs.... sounds of birds, the plop-plop of my shoes....and There he is! Coach has come back down the road and is running me to mile 5. For a short stretch I leave the sidewalk (god i hate sidewalks.......!!) and follow him by the side of the road, watch his gait....it seems he hardly moves and yet I know he's probably going at a snails pace for him....while I try to just keep behind him, in sight. Ok, he chirps, there you are, that's 5, now its down there, up there, over there, and you'll be at the store.....
Coach doesn't strike me as too interested in small talk, as I take his cue, and he loads himself in the van for his next stop. Another lovely stretch, I see mosaic work on walls, the wonderful mix of art nouveau and artsy fartsy that Ft. Lauderdale does so well, with just a seasoning of decline....the sun has come up, the neighborhood is fully revealed as I come up to Sunrise and the shops, early morning traffic. It seems fast, and it felt dreamlike. He wasn't at the store yet when I finished, and the sense of his impression like a figment, my own urban running legend, was strong.
Running is SO mental. The inner resolve is best illustrated by what I know must be for him each week's preparation to keep track of the scraggly bunch of runners we seem to be. The paperwork, the hydration stops, the maps, the mile markers pain-stakingly painted on streets, the very careful keeping tabs....
I am so used to being alone....When my only job is to show up and run, it feels wierd to have someone paying attention. I see this theme play out in my life in many ways. I must live for myself, while realizing others might have a stake in my life as well. Only I can get mself through the course, but there are others ready to lend me directions, offer me encouragement, take care of my needs.
This might be the whole point of 'joining'....to allow myself to 'belong'. I, who never felt much attraction towards belonging in a concrete sense seem to be pulled in like a magnet to circumstances that take fortitude and trust on my part. That's ok, that's good. Those are 2 good and valuable things I have that I can stand to strengthen. A lot. For God knows it's all just getting started...!!
The pitch black pre-dawn is heavy with moisture from the night's storms. Another group of runners, 4 milers, are already out ahead. Sure enough, Laura sets out- bam- a beautiful efficient gait that's eating up the sidewalk. For the ride towards the beach I just try to keep her in sight. We pass the group. At the beach we turn south and other groups of runners, bikers, are scattered like troops setting out to distant lands....Laura is by now too far to see. I'm churning down the big sidewalk of A1A, terrified of tripping, unable to see my feet. They seem to land with a plop-plop sound that seems hesitant and awkward. I am not feeling it. I figure we are in to our second to third mile or so heading for Las Olas, and I watch the bigger groups across the road skimming the beach; they look young, confident. I start to hear the talk in my head; what am I doing out here? I get so cocky, think I'm so great, then I make it out here with all these "real" runners and stumble along. I notice this self-talk. I know Laura is long gone. There's a drunk guy in my way, weaving and stumbling. I feel a little scared. I feel alone. I remember I'm supposed to turn right at Las Olas....and when I do, there's coach! "alright then, there you are, keep going straight on you'll see the bridge..." in his british accent. OK! Then I'm immediately lost again, winding through what is probably straight on but feels like I have temporarily fallen into a whirlpool of side streets. But there it is, the bridge over, and off I go! As I round the top I take a minute to look out at the boats in their slips, the few subtle colors of pinks, corals just coming off the sky, reflected in the water, the fairy tale houses that lean over each other on the banks......ah...coming down, I'm wondering ok, how far until I turn? Each right hand turn is a spit by the water. Just as I wonder where in the world I go, I see the lanky figure in his Team Ft. Lauderdale shirt, with his old master's gait, eating up the sidewalk, coming towards me. There you go! and he gives me my next set of points, as he leads me in to the water station at mile 4. Whew!!
From there its more directions while he heads up the road. I stop a good little while and soak up the Accelerade. I'm bushed, its damp, and now just coming light. I look up the road and see lush quiet neighborhood; my kind of running road! So feeling refreshed, I head up.
The silence of residential neighborhoods in early morning is glorious. In this one, the perfect Florida formula of old houses with big, lush landscape inspires me....I hug the water as the street rounds east and catches Victoria Park and north again, past other smaller greenways....amazing what I find in the runs.... sounds of birds, the plop-plop of my shoes....and There he is! Coach has come back down the road and is running me to mile 5. For a short stretch I leave the sidewalk (god i hate sidewalks.......!!) and follow him by the side of the road, watch his gait....it seems he hardly moves and yet I know he's probably going at a snails pace for him....while I try to just keep behind him, in sight. Ok, he chirps, there you are, that's 5, now its down there, up there, over there, and you'll be at the store.....
Coach doesn't strike me as too interested in small talk, as I take his cue, and he loads himself in the van for his next stop. Another lovely stretch, I see mosaic work on walls, the wonderful mix of art nouveau and artsy fartsy that Ft. Lauderdale does so well, with just a seasoning of decline....the sun has come up, the neighborhood is fully revealed as I come up to Sunrise and the shops, early morning traffic. It seems fast, and it felt dreamlike. He wasn't at the store yet when I finished, and the sense of his impression like a figment, my own urban running legend, was strong.
Running is SO mental. The inner resolve is best illustrated by what I know must be for him each week's preparation to keep track of the scraggly bunch of runners we seem to be. The paperwork, the hydration stops, the maps, the mile markers pain-stakingly painted on streets, the very careful keeping tabs....
I am so used to being alone....When my only job is to show up and run, it feels wierd to have someone paying attention. I see this theme play out in my life in many ways. I must live for myself, while realizing others might have a stake in my life as well. Only I can get mself through the course, but there are others ready to lend me directions, offer me encouragement, take care of my needs.
This might be the whole point of 'joining'....to allow myself to 'belong'. I, who never felt much attraction towards belonging in a concrete sense seem to be pulled in like a magnet to circumstances that take fortitude and trust on my part. That's ok, that's good. Those are 2 good and valuable things I have that I can stand to strengthen. A lot. For God knows it's all just getting started...!!
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Even small changes can be Big
For the first time in a very long time, I slide out the front door to find a slight chill in the air! Wow....what a feeling of relief, as I hit the overpass and take the streets in long, easy strides, for once not fighting the oppressive heat and humidity that always feels like a wet blanket pressing down on me. I resist the temptation to wear extra clothes, knowing, before too long, it will be just as hot within the hour. So today, it was smooth, dream-like, a wandering down roads until I realized I had come to my water stop at the park, with only a mile or so to go.
Even small changes can be big. And I know there are big changes in the wind. It's just hard to say how they are shaping themselves up. Suddenly it feels like everything has hit a high gear; with the turn of the seasonal wheel, a new push has come into play, as the world determines itself in its order of priorities, from one quarter or another.
I have been surprisingly consumed by goals; work goals, running goals....and the strange personal pressures of social connections which strive to take me out of my dreamy inward journeys.
Is it time to surface? With every long run, and every descent into darkness and solitude, light eventually breaks, if I can wait long enough and suffer the lonely road. Even I, it seems, can be called upon to come back from far places.
Even small changes can be big. And I know there are big changes in the wind. It's just hard to say how they are shaping themselves up. Suddenly it feels like everything has hit a high gear; with the turn of the seasonal wheel, a new push has come into play, as the world determines itself in its order of priorities, from one quarter or another.
I have been surprisingly consumed by goals; work goals, running goals....and the strange personal pressures of social connections which strive to take me out of my dreamy inward journeys.
Is it time to surface? With every long run, and every descent into darkness and solitude, light eventually breaks, if I can wait long enough and suffer the lonely road. Even I, it seems, can be called upon to come back from far places.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Commitment to goals
Okay, now its official; I've joined the Ft Lauderdale Road Runner's marathon training group. When that alarm went off at 5AM, I had to remind myself that any amount of anxiety, of meeting new people, confronting a new situation, and running out with a group of strangers was worth the benefits of training- consistency, improvement, and yes, eventually getting me to that start line in Miami.
I pull up to an empty parking lot in the dark of pre-dawn, and watch the first cars drive in. I finally get the nerve to move out and introduce myself to a few folks until I find out the coach, Coach Robert, is inside the store, prepping his paperwork. It's short intros and a surprised, impressed response when I report my 40 mpw. Apparently, I'm ahead of the game, and he quickly assigns me a rough general plan as well as the day's mileage "how's 6-7 sound? go with them", pointing to a couple of women who look like running vets. A quick look at maps, water stops, and its out the door and off we go.
I am not a good runner in the dark, and sidewalks are my nemesis. I decide to "follow the leader", Nancy, who appears to run with little effort in short efficient strides. We turn off Sunrise, past George English park up Bayview, a road I'd never seen, until we hit Oakland and turn to the beach. I feel surprisingly good- my 7 miles the night before gave me a kind of preparation- and it was coolish- with the light just hitting the water as we rounded the turn south at the ocean. Coach Robert pops up unexpectedly on Bayview and again on S. Ocean (miles 2 and 4?) at our water stops...a few words of encouragement, 'how's it going girls etc.'. I feel fine, I feel part of my little pack. We've been joined, by now, by Esther, who is elite, who runs on her toes, who is out ahead with Nancy, while Jane and I hold our pace. The stretch down to Sunrise is fluid and light- I try to put it up a gear, just ahead of Jane. I fly down the bike lane, until we turn on to Sunrise. Up and over the water, until Federal, and home to the store.
Just shy of 7 miles. Everyone comes in at their own pace. Accelerade is mixed at the ready. The store is open for our use, and on the sidewalk, towels are thrown down for stretching. I receive my official t-shirt and singlet. I change clothes. I record my mileage for Coach. I'm done for the day.
Sunday, I did a 9.5 miler from North park beach, up to Dania Bch Blvd, looping over to 14th Ave all the way into Hollywood, to the Blvd, over back to the beach and up. Felt amazingly strong despite running in the middle of the day in the heat. (Started at 11:30AM) The middle section through Hollywood was picturesque, along the water, picking up with roads as I went, until I caught Hollywood Blvd. If I started it from my house, it would be more of a 12-15 miler, so a better long run. I have to remember that in about a month I have a 30k to contend with.
Commitment to goals means now that every Saturday morning the alarm will go off at 5AM, and I will roll out of bed and into running clothes to join up with the Ft. Lauderdale group. It means slowly working my way through the weeks between now and that 30k, through November and Key Biscayne, and into December when Coach Robert decides to work me hard. It means the anticipation of tapering into those last weeks of January. The marathon tip I received this weekend? visualize the goal, and see it happen; the mind will then 'accept' the reality- the body will follow.
I, who have accomplished many goals in life that were seemingly out of reach, am reaching for this one now. My natural persistence should pay off if I allow myself the satisfaction of meeting the short term goals of participation in the process, as week by week I chart the miles, the conditioning, the accomplishments. It's not just physical, its so mental. It's getting past miles 2-3, until it all becomes loose and easy and it feels like anything is possible. Where the feet are able to go, the mind can transcend, is free like birds on the water, in pre-dawn light, skimming the surface of dreams.
I pull up to an empty parking lot in the dark of pre-dawn, and watch the first cars drive in. I finally get the nerve to move out and introduce myself to a few folks until I find out the coach, Coach Robert, is inside the store, prepping his paperwork. It's short intros and a surprised, impressed response when I report my 40 mpw. Apparently, I'm ahead of the game, and he quickly assigns me a rough general plan as well as the day's mileage "how's 6-7 sound? go with them", pointing to a couple of women who look like running vets. A quick look at maps, water stops, and its out the door and off we go.
I am not a good runner in the dark, and sidewalks are my nemesis. I decide to "follow the leader", Nancy, who appears to run with little effort in short efficient strides. We turn off Sunrise, past George English park up Bayview, a road I'd never seen, until we hit Oakland and turn to the beach. I feel surprisingly good- my 7 miles the night before gave me a kind of preparation- and it was coolish- with the light just hitting the water as we rounded the turn south at the ocean. Coach Robert pops up unexpectedly on Bayview and again on S. Ocean (miles 2 and 4?) at our water stops...a few words of encouragement, 'how's it going girls etc.'. I feel fine, I feel part of my little pack. We've been joined, by now, by Esther, who is elite, who runs on her toes, who is out ahead with Nancy, while Jane and I hold our pace. The stretch down to Sunrise is fluid and light- I try to put it up a gear, just ahead of Jane. I fly down the bike lane, until we turn on to Sunrise. Up and over the water, until Federal, and home to the store.
Just shy of 7 miles. Everyone comes in at their own pace. Accelerade is mixed at the ready. The store is open for our use, and on the sidewalk, towels are thrown down for stretching. I receive my official t-shirt and singlet. I change clothes. I record my mileage for Coach. I'm done for the day.
Sunday, I did a 9.5 miler from North park beach, up to Dania Bch Blvd, looping over to 14th Ave all the way into Hollywood, to the Blvd, over back to the beach and up. Felt amazingly strong despite running in the middle of the day in the heat. (Started at 11:30AM) The middle section through Hollywood was picturesque, along the water, picking up with roads as I went, until I caught Hollywood Blvd. If I started it from my house, it would be more of a 12-15 miler, so a better long run. I have to remember that in about a month I have a 30k to contend with.
Commitment to goals means now that every Saturday morning the alarm will go off at 5AM, and I will roll out of bed and into running clothes to join up with the Ft. Lauderdale group. It means slowly working my way through the weeks between now and that 30k, through November and Key Biscayne, and into December when Coach Robert decides to work me hard. It means the anticipation of tapering into those last weeks of January. The marathon tip I received this weekend? visualize the goal, and see it happen; the mind will then 'accept' the reality- the body will follow.
I, who have accomplished many goals in life that were seemingly out of reach, am reaching for this one now. My natural persistence should pay off if I allow myself the satisfaction of meeting the short term goals of participation in the process, as week by week I chart the miles, the conditioning, the accomplishments. It's not just physical, its so mental. It's getting past miles 2-3, until it all becomes loose and easy and it feels like anything is possible. Where the feet are able to go, the mind can transcend, is free like birds on the water, in pre-dawn light, skimming the surface of dreams.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Monday, September 10, 2007
longer and longer
Now that I'm topping 40 miles a week (last week I made 45!), I am increasing the length of the long runs. A few weeks ago, I managed 16 miles from the bottom of Bill Baggs State Park at Key Biscayne, to the top of Rickenbacker, and back. Wow. That is a story in itself. An amazing odessey. This past Saturday was 14, from the house straight west through the local 'hood, past 441, all the way to University- and back. Cutting through the Seminoles along a lovely stretch with trees- and shade. It feels like my endurance keeps improving, although I'm doing these long runs in the middle of heat, so its hard to tell. I signed up for the Deerfield Beach practice race in October, 30k, which should give me the last good sense of what real distance will feel like under race conditions. If I survive, then I promise myself to register for Miami.
The heaviness and intensity of emotional pressure seems to be lifting, with the shift in temps....or is it just me?? When I go out at 7AM, there's actually a hint, a presence of coolness in the air...the sun just kissing the horizon line, as the traffic follows me up and over the short bridge and on to my 8 miles. I don't know how it will happen, those 26+, I still can't get my mind around it. But the 8, 10 and longer are coming just a little easier. And the longer I go, the more I seem to want to stay out, just testing the limits now, testing my own strength of mind. It's all a mind game now. How much can I endure? I have taken in so much of the challenge in life. This is just one more.
The heaviness and intensity of emotional pressure seems to be lifting, with the shift in temps....or is it just me?? When I go out at 7AM, there's actually a hint, a presence of coolness in the air...the sun just kissing the horizon line, as the traffic follows me up and over the short bridge and on to my 8 miles. I don't know how it will happen, those 26+, I still can't get my mind around it. But the 8, 10 and longer are coming just a little easier. And the longer I go, the more I seem to want to stay out, just testing the limits now, testing my own strength of mind. It's all a mind game now. How much can I endure? I have taken in so much of the challenge in life. This is just one more.
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