A1A Half marathon, part 1

Before the pictures arrive, I need to start with this:
2:23:26.

My old coach Robert ran an hour faster than me, and he is 66. Don, the owner of our local running store placed 9th in the entire field. Had I not stopped after the turn around to pee, I might have beaten my time from last year. As it was, though, I ran a nice, consistent race and I am not beat up this week. I feel strong. I feel good. I feel GREAT.

I need to thank my 'team' for their loyal help. Between them, they got me prepared that weekend, through nervous family crises, pre-race jitters and logistical confusion. They got me to the line, saw me off and into the finish. They ate pancakes with me, and celebrated the down time later, at the beach and over Chinese food. They hugged and loved me, and for the first time, I ran a race and had all the lovely support I always wanted. I felt validated for something extraordinary. And I got to share it with about 3000 people.

When the pix are posted, I will come back with part 2 and a more comprehensive story of the race. Until then, my first run comes up tomorrow, when I take myself out for a test, to see what I've got. To see what running, without pressure will feel like, under the wide open sky.

Last Park Drills

The temps were chillier than I expected, with a stiff wind, but the sun was out, as I headed for TY Park and a last training session including a few loops around the perimeter and taking the hills in the middle with a few sprint drills at the end for good measure. I am not feeling all that great. Work has been crazy stressful thus far this week, and my sleep is rough. My worries extend in many directions, and I'm feeling the pressure of everything coalescing including the race itself.

I had my moment, however, cruising down the middle of the park, away from the other runners, bikers, mommies and strollers, trying to remember what it feels like to enjoy the rhythm and ride of a good run, and fantasizing about life after this week is over and I can have regular runs of any length and time. Life comes in rhythms, we ramp up and down according to our responsibilities and intended projects. For the more internally motivated it's a pressure to create. For those who wait on the pressures of outside forces it feels like problems mounting on our heads. I have always answered to internal forces, but these days I have more than enough to do from outside sources. Balance, staying on my feet, endurance, patience, rhythm all play their part in keeping my forward motion. Not getting caught up in the minutiae of any one run. Not allowing my attitude to become hooked on one outcome, one point of view, one emotion. Runs have parts, and those parts can be broken down or built up like art, to create ongoing tapestries. The trick is to stay light, be light while you travel the distance between start to finish, and remember, even at the end, it goes on.

Soon!

Last year's A1A start.

Saturday's run at Hugh Birch was GREAT, then we drove the route and scoped out parking, fixing everything in my head for race day. Lots of drills, little farleks, and pacing...midday heat increased the intensity, but it was good. I can see where a few aches are complaining, by my right shin and right hip. I will massage and ice this week.

This morning, I did a loop over the overpass, looping west on Park Rd to Anderson for water, back on Thomas. The first half, into a headwind, was a pain, literally, fighting fatigue, feeling too full from the emotional eating at the family gathering, and the wind in my face. But on the way back, I found my rhythm. All those drills have done me some good. The Glycerin 6's were plush on my feet, and for a blessed stretch I felt nothing but rhythm and motion. I could imagine, even if fantasy, running that long A1A stretch and enjoying it. I could pretend I was coming into the line. For about 30 minutes I felt like the runner I want to be. And I remember, that this is why I run. To be free.

It's heartbreaking to watch a 91 yo man tell my 88 yo father he needs to get his act together, take care of himself, move around some. The 91 yo swims daily, drives, look great. My dad has given up any semblance of trying. He let his darker nature take over and erode his capacity to cope. I hope I never stop. It may be optimistic to say, but I don't see why I can't drop dead in my tracks, as Michael has speculated. If I can move I can feel the energy in my own body, and that tells me I am connected. I would hate to have to give that up for anything. And on Sunday I'll get to put myself to the test once again.

Valentine' Day '09

The chart of 14th February reveals an incredible concentration of cosmic influences blending with the energies of Aquarius in the twelfth house.

"Expansive Jupiter and energetic Mars are aligned with the higher purpose of the North Node.

The presence of Chiron the wounded healer offers us the opportunity to heal the schisms that have separated us for so long. Neptune empasizes collective humanitarian movements and the co-creation of social justice, and the presence of the radiant Sun enlightens the entire alignment.

Mercury also in the twelfth house but just beyond the cusp in Capricorn, allies with transformational Pluto to communicate and anchor the Shift throughout our global structures and institutions.

The Moon in Libra in the seventh house emphasizes harmonious real-ationships.

Venus in Aries in the first house energizes and empowers dynamic co-creativity.

And whilst Saturn, the great task master in opposition to Uranus, the unexpected awakener, is suggesting an ongoing confrontation as the dregs of the unsustainable old paradigm reluctantly give way to the untested hope of the new, their placements in Virgo and Pisces brings practical altruism and visionary inspiration to the transition."


Today is the last long run before the race. I'll take a 'road trip' to check out the parking and route on A1A and do 3 laps at Hugh Birch Park, where we will interrupt the straight up and back for a round at about mile 6. Today I'll enjoy the beauty and soak up the sun. Next week I'll be running my heart out, trying to keep up with the crowds! Hard to believe it's so soon. But I have a light spirit today, and love is on my side.

Windy Run at the Park; Hills and Drills

According to the weather reports the entire east section of the country is having high winds; deadly tornadoes in Oklahoma- at the park, the wind was strong, but luckily not cold. Wind means resistance training, so that's a good thing, in the 2nd week out from the race. Feeling sluggish, digestion off. Some trepidation about family business and just plain tired of the worry sometimes. My focus on the race is morphing into low expectations, but I must be careful; I need them high enough to sustain motivation. If they sink too low I won't want to be there at all.

Some people have natural resilience. Others, like me, seem like tuning forks, picking up the vibes all around and fighting their influence. I pray consistently for strength, and training is just another means of enveloping myself in at least the perception of strength- even if it ends up being another form of my own wishful thinking.

But you never know. I get out there and I get it done. I haven't wavered yet. The obstacles may become more formidable, but the resources are still there. Somehow, the Powers that Be are encouraging us to stay the course. As much as it feels tempting to quit, we know it's the easy way out. So we gather our comrades together and we pick our mark on the route- there, and there, and to there. Each benchmark bringing us closer to the line.

Soon enough, I'll have my own personal experience of going on way past my belief that I can do it. And it will be AMAZING.

The medicine woman in the pix is south american, I believe. She reminds me of Mello Rye, our teacher, and the power of the lineage behind me. I must remember; I, too am part of the line of teachers, and we set the example. We bring our hearts into the fight, and we shoulder on.

2 Weeks 2 Go

View of A1A start line, last time....

Did my 10 miler loop yesterday, 2 hours with 3 stops, and straight into headwinds all the way in to the beach. Pacing with the bike has been very helpful, as a tool for pacing, practicing some speed, getting a sense of just how fast (or slow) I really am. And I am slow, no doubt about it. Even on Surf Rd, as we came into the last stretch before North Beach Park, I was getting passed by everyone, including an older geezer guy with a steady, relaxed gait that looked slow and blew right past me. I try not to be discouraged, even as I wonder why speed is elusive for me. What I hoped for and what I feel is stronger. And all I need to make it through 13+ miles intact is strength; my endurance seems pretty good. Now, if I can work on my digestion, which has gotten all messed up.

There was joking and laughter at my folks this last visit, and a feeling of lightness overall, despite all the new challenges, recriminations, resentments etc. Oh well....I try to remember everyone needs someone to get mad at sometimes, and when I become the target, I can try not to take it too personally. I've been mad too, but then, quickly turn anger into a means of finding some other angle on the situation. The creative muses have been busy with me, maybe that's the solution. In the middle of everything else, I'm having some great good ideas....if I can just figure out how to pull them off.

A trapeze artist interviewed on This American Life, who walked between the Twin Towers, complained that he had to take time away from his projects to eat and sleep. I laughed, thinking, this is the way all true creative thinkers are. I must be on the lazy side; or maybe I just compromise with myself. Inspiration is never far away. Putting it all into action takes discipline. The race will remind me that it takes work, persistence and commitment to a goal. The other side of art.

Going for Refuge

I listened to a podcast about buddhism this morning, a talk by a guy from the British Isles (Irish? Scots?) practicing for over 30 years about various aspects....I drifted in and out...his accent was so soothing I found myself having trouble focusing on his concepts...or I would riff off an idea in my head and realize I had wandered off into my own experience of something before returning to the talk....All this time I'm running up and down the hills at the park, in very chilly 50's temps. But the sun was strong, the air clear and I felt- if not fluid, then certainly very glad to be alive...

I love buddhism. It appeals to the mystic in me who craves my own experience of the process of life as the spiritual path. Everything the speaker touched on has therapeutic roots, and I had the sudden realization that buddha was in some ways the first true psychoanalyst, the first person who committed himself to find an answer to suffering..."think of him as the first chic who broke out of his shell and now helps others to break out of theirs..." - This after my client described a magazine photo she keeps of a chic being held in a man's hand to remind her of the fragile, new state of her healing and the compassion she needs to care for herself.

I certainly find myself striving to approach everything with greater patience and compassion. Even running, which had the obsessive tendency to push me into high stress with high miles has become a less cumbersome practice. After all the New Age circles I have traveled, it seems to boil down to the few things I do that steady my boat in the storms. Running, which gave me confidence and power within myself, was my key. Running, which said I could move like anyone else, as fast or slow as necessary, brought me back to basics. I cared for myself because I cared for the goal. Now the goals are still there, but not as important. What I cherish now is the process.

Going for refuge, according to the speaker, is when you make the push for change. When you know you are ready to open your mind to something bigger. Being ready is my middle name. I am on my way, always.