Just one of those days.

Well. That could have gone better.

I had high hopes of a good run at the Oakland Half Marathon. My training has been going well; a few mid-teen runs and a couple of hill runs had me feeling I could easily enjoy the day and not exert myself too much. I was looking forward to seeing old friends, chatting a little, running 13.1 miles and going home to get through my weekend stuff. It didn't quite work out that way.

Saturday I went to the "expo" and picked up my race packet. It went smoothly and easily, first getting my card, then my number with the timing tag, then my tech shirt. The expo was a disappointment because there was no there there (sorry Oakland, couldn't resist). There were mostly local purveyors of services, a couple of other marathon booths, a Gu tasting booth (although they weren't selling it), a Clif booth (they weren't selling either), and race merchandise which I didn't even look at. My "goody bag" contained a bunch of literature and fliers, a teeny bottle of EVOO, a sample sized bag of Gu Chomps, a wrist sweat band from an insurance company and that was it. Not so goody after all.

I carpooled Sunday morning with Ellen, a great chance to catch up with my original running partner. She's substantially faster than I am now (... everyone is substantially faster than I am now) but we had the ride to chat about everything. We decided to park at City Center since it would only be $5 and that way we wouldn't (1) lose the car and (2) have to walk too far. We got there way early and were able to sit in the warm car for a while before heading out.

The morning was cool, sunny and a bit breezy. I wore shorts for the first time this year (with 100 SPF sunscreen on my legs, paranoid much?), a long sleeved top and throwaway gloves. Because it was supposed to be partially overcast turning to total overcast, I was wearing black. Not my smartest idea, but it turned out to not be a huge factor.

I met up with a few people I knew and then went to stand in the front of the back of the crowd; I wanted to be in front of the walkers but behind everyone else. It was pretty good placement although many walkers seeded themselves way up front since I continued to pass them for the first couple of miles. Finally the anthem was sung, a few words from the mayor (which we couldn't really hear), then the horn and we were off! "Off" being relative, of course. It took a few minutes to cross the start line and start running.

I felt really good that first mile, holding myself back so that I wouldn't be pulled along with the crowd's enthusiasm. My plan was to go 9:1 the entire race, plus walk through water stops. That worked for all of one whole mile. A short way into mile 2 my legs felt heavy and my lungs started heaving. I was dizzy and my stomach was queasy. I seriously considered just turning around and going back to the start but figured it would work itself out in the next couple of miles as I warmed up. It didn't.

The race was very well run, the waterstops were frequent enough and well stocked and staffed. The street closures were handled professionally by the Oakland PD and the majority of Oakland's residents were happy to see the race and runners (except for the honkers in their cars trying to get somewhere important). The route was varied and interesting and I saw a few areas of Oakland I'd never been through. I tried, really tried, to to get into the spirit of things and my body didn't want to cooperate.

I knew by mile 2 that I wouldn't be sticking to my plan but I really thought things would improve. I reviewed the route in my head and tried to figure out how far I'd have to go to walk back to the finish, compared with how far I'd have to go to stay on the course. It always worked out shorter, or even, to continue the race.

I tried gels, I tried drinking water and electrolyte fluid, I tried running and walking and shuffling. If I ran either my lungs couldn't get enough air or my legs felt like cement posts. If I continued running I got dizzy and nauseous. While walking I just felt dizzy. My muscles and joints ached and I felt like I had the flu. I was alternately hot and chilled. I tried to see the beauty of the sunny day, tried to enjoy the fact that I was out there. I kept telling myself that any day I could run, no matter how poorly, was a good day.

At about mile 10 I saw one of my old TnT buddies, now a coach. I was telling him that I was having one of those days that every runner has, but that you hope comes on a day you haven't paid to run. My timing was just off and I told him I hoped that it meant my crappy run for this training series was over. He walked with me for a couple of minutes and we talked about our upcoming plans and races, then I ran on.

I was pretty sure if I continued my shuffling I could finish before 3 hours and that became my last goal. As I came around Lake Merritt I shuffled to the next light post, walked to that car, ran to the parking meter, shuffled to the corner. Repeat as necessary. It became apparent that I would not, in fact, break 3 but I wanted to finish strongly. Then coming down the last hill (and one of the only hills on the route) I saw my coach and stopped to hug and talk. I stopped for several minutes and didn't care about time any longer, it was more important to talk with him. Finally he sent me on my way. At that point I was shivering from the cold since we were talking in the shade.

There were lots of people cheering in the runners and I managed to run, slowly, the last couple of tenths. I crossed the finish line, grabbed a medal and a heat sheet, and trudged along. I got a bottle of water and a quarter of a bagel and made myself eat and drink, trying to stop the shakes and ease my stomach. It didn't work too well. I saw a friend and chatted for a few minutes, glad to be standing still, then went to find Ellen who was meeting me over by the beer tent.

I found her and figured that beer wasn't going to make me feel any worse so we stood in the long line. I got a few ounces and we continued to walk around. The beer tasted good but I only had a very little since I didn't want to get sick on the way home.

I went home, showered and collapsed on the sofa. I felt as if I had just run a particularly hard full marathon. All of my muscles, all of my joints, all of my internal organs hurt. I guess it was from pushing myself while I didn't feel well. I didn't want to eat but I forced myself to have a few slices of turkey for the protein and to drink water to rehydrate. I napped on and off for a couple of hours but mostly just lay there reviewing my race.

Today I'm sore from the top of my head to my toes. That poor performance took a lot out of me, but I'm not going to let it get me down. I've had those good training runs recently and I think the bad run was the aberration, not the good runs. I'm looking forward to my longer runs, looking forward to getting back out there.

Any day you can get out and run, or any day you can get out and walk, is a good day. It might not feel that way at the time, but I'm lucky I get the chance.

Have a nice trip; see you in the fall

I had very high hopes for our last long training run before Chicago Marathon. Although our 18 miler was hard because of adverse weather conditions, our 20 miler went great despite the lightning and thunder and rain. Our short 11 miler last week went well. Everything looked promising for our 22 miler on Saturday. My prep went well and I was excited to get to the run.

It started out well. I met Anita and Bree at the Alameda Ferry Terminal parking lot at just after 6:00 am. It would have been just before 6:00 am had I known that Highway 238 was going to be closed. It didn't delay me too much and we got on the road by 6:10. It was dark and since my headlamp had fallen apart the night before I carried a disposable flashlight.

The plan was to run the long way around to the bridge, across then out to Crown Beach, then back to the parking lot the short way for 12-ish total miles. We'd refuel and do one more out-and-back to the beach for the last 10 miles. Done that way we couldn't take shortcuts. There are enough water fountains and bathrooms along the way that even on a hot day we'd be able to hydrate. The weather forecast was back and forth all week; first they said hot, then not, then hot again. Maybe windy but that was expected. Overcast/not overcast. We weren't worried, we'd trained with all of that.

The first part of the run to the bridge went very well. It slowly got lighter out, and warmer. We got to see the beautiful sunrise, made even prettier by the smoggy skies. I felt good until about mile 7 when I started tiring. I ignored it, knowing we had a long way yet to go. My legs were heavy and flat and my breathing started to get sloppy; I didn't know which was causing the other problem. I didn't want to change our 4:1 run:walk until at least after 13 miles so I pushed on, whining just a bit.

We crossed the big bridge and started running across that little wooden bridge that goes under the road. We normally walk that but for some reason didn't. About halfway across I caught my toe on an uneven board and tripped. I tried to catch myself but couldn't. I went down, hard, catching most of my weight on my hands and knees. Ow. I was a bit stunned and instead of popping back up like I normally do (and doesn't it suck that there's a "normally" for my falling) I just stayed there.

Like the wonderful concerned friends they are, Bree and Anita asked if I was ok, if they could help me up, told me to take my time, etc. Like a total cranky bitch I told them to go away. Leave me alone. Go on. I might have yelled a little. They walked off and I peeled myself off the bridge. I knew that I was scraped and bruised and dirty and sore but I didn't want to look. I was wobbly and jittery and very stiff and sore but after I hobbled off the bridge I decided to suck it up and keep running. I told them to go ahead of me, insisted on it, and followed behind them. There were a few tears of pain and self-pity, but I kept running.

Adrenaline kept me going for a short time. I loosened up, started running a bit better. But within that same damn mile I tripped again! I caught my toe on the uneven pavement and literally went flying. I kept my feet moving, tightened my core and somehow managed to remain upright and in motion. After that I just stopped. Stopped dead and told them I was finished. I was done, I quit, no more, the end. I send them off ahead of me and forlornly (and slowly) walked on. A few more tears and a major pity party with myself being the only invited guest. There were close to 2 miles left until I got to my car.

Sure enough I got tired of walking after a while. Cautiously I started a slow jog, intermingled with regular walk breaks. I stayed behind Bree and Anita, not wanting any company. I got back to the parking lot fully intending to quit. I went into the bathroom and washed some of the blood off my knee and some of the dirt off my hands and went to my car.

At that point we had done about 13 miles. I really didn't want to leave it that way but I had very little energy or patience left. Bree suggested doing outs and backs to the bridge a couple of times and again, I didn't want to go and didn't want to socialize any longer. I crabbily told them to set out and I'd follow as much as I could.

Do you have any idea how boring it is to run while not being able to look up from your feet? I was convinced that if I didn't stare at the ground that I'd trip again. I was probably correct in that assumption but I didn't test it. We made it back to the bridges and walked across that time. We refilled our bottles on the far side and turned around to return. We walked the bridge that time too.

I varied but mostly stayed behind them. I went in front when our shadows turned because I couldn't see the ground as well with them in front. We went slower and slower and walked more and more and once again returned to the our cars.

We decided to do one more short out and back to get a couple additional miles. This time there was no pretense of running, we were hardly walking. Strolling, more like. Still, it was hard. My little wounds stung with the breeze, I had blood oozing down my leg, I was bruised and still not breathing well. It was fully sunny, a light breeze and getting warmer by the minute. It was upper 70s by that time.

Finally back to the cars with a total of 19.2 miles. Not too bad for crashing at 10.5 and quitting before 11. All that time on our feet had taken its toll.I was not a happy camper and would have been uncomfortable even if I hadn't taken a tumble. Thank you to both Bree and Anita for putting up with my whining, my falling, my crankiness, my crabbiness, my anger and my self-pity. You guys are great!

Obligatory notice of beauty: it was a clear day, beautiful views of San Francisco, the Bay Bridge, Oakland, the Bay, the Estuary. Beautiful. The birds were out in full force, pelicans fanning their wings in the sun, little whatdoyoucallits splashing around. It's a lovely place to run and we are incredibly fortunate to have places like that so close.

When I got home I decided I'd better take an ice bath. Although I used to take them regularly after long runs, I stopped doing it for some reason (probably because they're damned uncomfortable). But I had too many swollen spots to ice individually so I decided to plop into freezing water. I had ground-in dirt on one knee and palm, dirt all over my arms and legs, swollen knees and palms and a pull in my lower back from catching myself that last time. I'm sure the 20 minutes in the icy water was good for me but I didn't enjoy one minute of it.

A day later and the damage isn't too bad. I don't feel at all like I went 19 miles. My feet don't hurt (and they can hurt after just a few miles). None of the usual aches and pains from a longer run. Both of my palms are bruised (and I must have caught myself on the edge of one of the boards because I have a distinct line). My left knee is bruised and swollen but internally feels ok. My right knee is a mess. It's scratched, scraped, bruised, oozing and bloody. But again that's all on the outside and structurally it's fine. The only non-surface part that really hurts, strangely enough, is my shoulder. I apparently strained a muscle when I fell and caught myself.

The marathon is in 2 weeks. I intend to be fully healed by then. I also intend to stay upright for the entire 26.2 miles. What are the odds?

Places to go, things to do

My plate was full this weekend. So full that I managed to accomplish only a teensy portion of the things that needed to be done. There was so much I wanted to do that I felt like I was spinning in circles standing still. Whatever that means.

I left work early on Friday to have some scheduled maintenance performed on my car. It was the only chance I'd get for about the next 1000 miles and I was overdue. The best part was that I got to sit in their waiting room with my headphones on, music playing, while I knit for over an hour. I miss knitting and at this rate I'll never finish the 3 4 several WIPs. For some reason, probably because it was over 100 degrees out, they didn't wash my car (one of the nice things that Saturn has always done). Or maybe it was because Saturn is bankrupt and the car industry is in the toilet and the dealership couldn't afford their water bill. Whatever the reason, I drove out of there disgruntled and with a filthy car.

Saturday was scheduled for a 18 mile run and although it was going to be hot as blazes we went ahead and did it. We started our run at 6:00 am, just as the sun was rising, and it was already about 70 degrees. No wind, not even a little breeze. I saw on the weather channel that the wind was calm at calm miles per hour in the direction of calm. I don't like wind in my face so I had high hopes.

Until I started running. There are days when my legs feel flat, like I'm dragging cement posts along instead of flesh, bone and muscle. Sometimes that's only until I warm up and after a couple of miles I feel better. Not this time. The entire distance was hard and the heat didn't help.

We were running on the Alameda Creek Trail in Fremont and headed first toward the Bay. Mostly we stuck with the plan of a 4:1 run:walk and we ran about 7 miles round-trip. I say "about" since, in the dark, I hit the wrong button on Mr. Garmin and it didn't start until I noticed about a mile later. Whoops. We switched out our bottles and headed in the other direction. Since there are a couple of fountains we figured we could refill along the way and back.

It got hotter and hotter and we got slower and slower. We kept to the 4:1-ish plan until we reached the end at 5 miles, but both the run and the walk were slower. We refilled, soaked our hats in cool water and headed back the other direction. It got hotter and we got even slower and walked more.

The 4:1 became 3:2 became 2:3. The sun was blazing, there was still no breeze and it was getting hotter. We amused ourselves by looking at the huge fish in the creek, by wishing we could stick our feet in the water like the egrets were doing, by watching other hot runners and walkers and cyclists. We detoured across the creek to refill our bottles at Isherwood and from there ended up walking. We had a good pace going, mostly because of forward motion, but it was still walking.

I was hot, tired and dizzy but there was no choice except to continue forward. We made it back to the parking lot with our mileage a little short and Anita made me continue on for the last quarter mile so we'd have the full 18. Ow. Dehydrated, overheated, exhausted. But 18 miles! No matter how we got there, it was still 18 miles, slow as molasses but still fast enough to make the time cutoff at Chicago.

I zoomed home, showered and managed to lie down for about a half hour before having to leave for a party. Each year my boss has a pool party for all the employees and this year we were happy for the pool. I would have been even happier if I had bothered to look for my swimsuit before I left. As it was, I sat on the edge of the pool and soaked my legs in cool water.

Several hours later I headed over to my mom's house to check her mail, cool it down for a while, then finally left for home. As I walked to my front door I noticed that the pipe that has my hose spigot and shutoff valve was dripping. Crap. It was dripping enough that I knew I'd have to do something.

After a mostly sleepless night (what else is new) I started cleaning my house, setting up the exercise room as a guest room, paying bills, backing up my computer and oh yeah, called a plumber. I was told he'd be there between 1 and 2, and he called at about 12:45 and said he'd be there just about 2pm. I did a little bit of everything around home, finishing nothing, and waited.

Plumberman showed up about 2:15. He was a chatty fellow and he slowly inspected the 4 dripping problems I have (the new leak was just the camel's straw). He very carefully and clearly explained what should be done and why, explained lesser alternatives, talked a LOT and after more than 2 hours gave me an eye popping estimate. Yep, didn't get anything done, just got an estimate. Ouch. I'm not pleased to pay that much (and it's going to involve getting a new toilet) (no, the leak in my garden didn't cause that) but I've put this off for so long I'll have to just suck it up. I'll have to make an appointment for the work to be done this week, but meanwhile the dripping will continue.

After he left I ran my errands and when I got home I realized I hadn't done the laundry, hadn't finished cleaning the house, hadn't visited my mom and hadn't finished setting up the guest room. I also hadn't eaten anything and I was tired, hungry and getting very cranky. So I ate a salad and decided nothing else was going to get done this weekend.

Tomorrow's another day.

Training continues

On Saturday we ran 18 miles on the Alameda Creek Trail. Bree, Anita and I showed up to run at 6:30 am, hoping to beat the heat. We did that, but we couldn't beat the smoke from the fires blazing in the Bay Area. We were surrounded by fires to the south and fires to the east. My hopes that running near the bay would let us experience clearer air weren't realized.

The weather would have been perfect for running if not for the smoke. Even bright and early we could see the heavy haze. The sunrise was eerie red/orange and obscured. Anyway, we started slow, continued slower, and ended up walking almost the entire last mile. By then we were not only tired, we were all having breathing problems (especially me). But we got the miles in, had some great conversations and enjoyed being able to get out there and spend more than 4 hours on our feet. We are indeed fortunate to be able to do that.

Today was the annual Oakland A's Stitch 'n' Pitch game. Our large crowd from past years dwindled down to ... me. Luckily my bro and his family decided to take a break too and they joined me. It was "Turn Back the Clock Day" with a whole 80 year nostalgia theme (including the uniforms) and they gave away pretty cool jerseys. The SnP premium was a strange little drawstring backpack shaped like a shirt, with the A's logo and the SnP logo. We weren't going to stay for the entire game since we had other things that had to get done.

I'm a very unlucky sports fan. I won't watch my favorite teams on television since they always, always lose when I do. When I show up in person my average is still pretty low, although I've seen one or two winning games. So when it began to look like the A's were falling apart, we left. I was quite gratified to see they ended up winning, all because we left.

The latest mom news is that on Friday she was discharged from the hospital and taken to what might be, may be, could be her final home. It's an assisted living facility near Lake Merritt in Oakland which specializes in dementia residents. It's also one of only two such facilities in the area with a vacancy, that we thought would accept my mom. It would be much worse if it doesn't work out. It's been very hard for me to accept that she isn't going home, that she'll spend the rest of her life in a dingy little room that won't fit any of her treasures that she's spent her life collecting. I cry every time I think of it. In fact, I'm crying now. I can't believe it's come to this.

More of the same again

Somehow last week slipped away without my noticing it. Another week of not enough exercise, not enough sleep and mom still in the hospital. My Saturday planned run of 17-18 miles became a slow run:walk of 11 miles. Since that was 7 miles longer than I wanted, I was satisfied. It doesn't hurt the training schedule because I've built so many long runs into it that it doesn't matter if we backtrack one week.

The best part of the week was Sunday. I couldn't sleep Saturday night so I got up and did my paperwork, bills and filing until about 3 am. I went to bed for about 4 hours and got up and cleaned house. I haven't done any housework since the whole mom-in-the-hospital thing started over a month ago so it's wonderful having a clean, relatively dust-free environment for living. I cleaned, did laundry, ran errands and felt like I had accomplished more than I have in ages.

My mom isn't progressing at all. While she has some times when she isn't aggressive or violent she hasn't had any times where she's living in the present and knows what is going on. She's confused, paranoid and angry. She finally managed to lose one of her very expensive hearing aids, so I removed the other one since she can't remember to use them correctly anyway. Along with her mind she's lost lots of weight (which would thrill her if she realized it), muscle and balance. The doctor keeps trying different meds but my mom doesn't always agree to take them since she thinks she's being poisoned. She calls me and with slurred words talks nonsense about things that happened 30 years ago. It's heartbreaking. I can't see an end to this or any happy solution.

I didn't inhale ...

... when I was outside today since the air was so polluted. It's another Spare the Air Day in the Bay Area; unlike yesterday when the air was merely "Unhealthy for Sensitive Groups," today the air in the inland East Bay is plain old "Unhealthy." Yesterday I should have limited my outdoor exertions, today I should avoid them completely. Okey dokey, I'll stay inside with my air conditioning on. Come to think of it though, doesn't my excessive use of energy for said air conditioner contribute to the unhealthy air?

Despite the inability to breathe deeply I ran 13 miles yesterday. Fine, I "ran" 13 miles yesterday. Anita and I started our run on the Lafayette-Moraga Trail at 7:00 am hoping to beat the worst of the heat. We were only partially successful; by the time we finished it was only 80 degrees instead of the 100+ that came later. The early part of the run went pretty decently except for the stretch where I aspirated an insect. It was pretty gross, trying to cough up some gnat out of my lungs.

We had a surprise visitor during the run. As I was standing on the side of the trail trying to hack up the bug, Mary Ann caught up to us. We hadn't know she was coming so we didn't wait for her at the start. Since she didn't want to run more than 8 miles we only had a short time with her before she headed back, but it's good to run with her again.

At about 6 miles out we ran past the back of my nephew's school. I was pointing it out to Anita and didn't notice the very large lump on the pavement right in front of me. My toes jammed into it, I think I went just a little airborne, my face came within about a foot of the ground and somehow miraculously I caught my balance and kept running. But I had such a huge rush of adrenaline that I felt high. Within a very short time that surge was gone and I was left with trembling legs and little energy. But at least I wasn't wiping blood off my chin!

The return run wasn't nearly as pleasant as the outbound leg. I was feeling the effects of the air, the heat, the distance and my little trip. We did more walking than I would have liked but I continued to try to push it as fast as I could. We finished hot and tired and dehydrated but feeling quite pleased with ourselves for getting it done. I guess 13 miles is still 13 miles, no matter how ugly!