“Don’t Fight It” by Kenny Loggins and Steve Perry was pushing me through my run this morning. My mind wandered to a 1982 Saturday morning about 10am when the Warehouse music store across from the University of Nevada Las Vegas opened. Payday was the day before and I was at the store when it opened to buy Loggins’ “High Adventure”. I unwrapped the cassette and listened to “Don’t Fight it” in my 1965 Mustang as I drove home.
As I ran a little bit further this morning, I though about how buying music has changed.
The first CD I ever bought was the Grateful Dead’s “In The Dark”. I purchased that CD as well as a CD version of “Simon and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits” from Lovell’s Record Store in Whittier, California in the summer of 1987. I had to take “In the Dark” to a friend’s house to listen as I didn’t yet have a CD player.
I remember a CD I purchased from Lovells in 1997, a month after my mother died. They say you can get any music you want at Lovells and within two days they found a particular CD of old Irish music that I had grown up listening to when it was just an LP.
In 1990, I purchased Paul Simon’s, “Rhythm of the Saints” at a Music Plus store about 2 miles from the home of the woman that is now my wife. We listened to the drums on that CD consistently all summer long. More often that not, if we take a long road trip, that CD still comes with us. The music has been part of our lives, but the actual CD has too.
When I was working on my MBA in 2006, there was a class discussion one day on whether or not there would be media even available for sale in 10 years. I am torn, I like to convenience of being able to download songs and sometimes albums; however there are some albums for which I just want the media.
Once the question of download or media is resolved for a particular CD (can you really call a CD a CD if it’s a download?) and the answer is buy the media, the question then turns to whether or not to purchase it on-line or in a store.
I still like buying CDs in the store. I like walking into a store and figuring out where that target is amongst all the other media. Then there’s that micro-second of joy that comes from finding THE CD. Then there’s the line up, the purchase transaction, the unwrap and the first playing. And there’s that joy for the rest of the month that comes from having that new CD in the car when I get in. Basically, what I am saying is that the experience that I had in 1982 is still a rush in 2012.
I don’t think there are ever any great memories associated with getting music in the mail. Guessing there weren’t memorable downloads either.
What do you think? Download or media? Buy on-line or in a store? Any great memories associated with downloading music?
As I look at my twitter stream today I have tweeps running races all over the world. Good luck to those running today in Long Beach, Portland, Atlanta, London, Chicago, Minneapolis, Maryland, and I am sure many other places as well.
For me, a big piece of running is my music, and I wanted to share it with you. It’s a long list, mostly because I’m a very slow runner of long distances.
I always start my races at the beginning of the playlist. Occasionally, when I want to change it up, I will start a weekly long run somewhere in the middle of the list. Songs are always played sequentially (none of that random stuff). Some of the songs are linked to their Youtube video in case you aren’t familiar with them.
Man Smart, Woman Smarter (Live) – The Grateful Dead
Toxic – Britney Spears
Long Way Down – Goo Goo Dolls
I Don’t Care Anymore – Phil Collins
Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again – The Grateful Dead
The Seeker – The Who
Rooftops – Lost Prophets
Iko Iko – The Grateful Dead
Summer Wind – Lyle Lovett
Carryout – Justin Timbaland
Dance with Me – Justin Timberlake
Eyes of the World – Grateful Dead
Not Fade Away – Grateful Dead
Throwing Stones – Grateful Dead
The last three songs on the playlist from the Dead take a combined 40 minutes to play. If I get this far on the list I have been running for five+ hours and frankly I don’t want to hear anything else.
Summer of 1991 was a memorable for a great many reasons reasons.
That year that Queen released the song “These are the Days of Our Lives”. I remember exactly which street I was driving on, what radio station I was listening to and all the circumstances around that weekend. It was a special song at a transitional time in my life. I carry that song and the feelings associated with that first musical experience to this day.
Another thing that I carry from that summer is a line from a Robert Subby book that I was reading about 5am one Saturday morning. The line went,
“If you are what you do, then you don’t, then you aren’t.”
I highlighted the words in blue and I had to reread them several times before I really got it.
Subby was speaking to our tendency to define ourselves in terms of one thing. For me, I was about my job. For others it was about being someone’s parent or someone’s significant other. For some it’s about defining themselves as that thing they want to be.
Those definitions are ephemeral. I can lose my job, my child can move away, my significant other can die… then what am I? Who am I when that which I use to define myself ceases?
So 20+ years later I find myself ( in alphabetical order) as an asthmatic, a bad-joke maker, a blogger, a brother, a Business Development guy, a California resident, Catholic, a chemist, a Chopin listener, a cousin, a fan of old country music, a deadhead, a diet coke drinker, a dog lover, an early riser, an English major, father, a guitar player, half Colombian, half-Irish a half-marathoner, a hockey fan, an eater of frozen chocolate cake, a husband, an INFP, a kale eater, a 30 year wearer of K-Swiss tennis shoes, a lacrosse junkie, a motorcycle rider, an MBA, New Yorker, a peludo, a pelado, a photograph taker, a poor proof-reader, a purple wearer, a recovering from Las Vegan, a rock climber, a runner, a son, a tennis player, a traveler, a twenty-four year employee, an uncle, a Whittier College Poet, Dr. Who and Yankees fan, and probably a few other things that I will remember once I push PUBLISH. None of these things define me, but in aggregate, perhaps you start to get a sense.
I feel the need to put some kind of picture of myself in this blog. Some type of self-image which represents all these pieces. These pieces have accumulated over 47 years. They could be considered fragments, broken pieces that fit together with some gaps. Alternatively they could be a set of appreciations developed over the first half of my life. Instead of a picture of myself, I will leave you with a video of Freddie Mercury.
I always knew that Freddy Mercury was a bit off-center, but I never really bothered to learn about him. I didn’t know he was gay nor did I care. I know he made some great music during the time we shared on this planet. He left me with songs that are strongly associated with more than a few times and places. He was a part of my life. He is gone but not forgotten.
So, how do you define yourself? Is it in terms of one thing or many? Is it in terms of things you do, you have or you want to be?
Should I be thinking more about retirement? Should I just keep doing what I’m doing? How the hell am I going to pay for The Child to go to college? I won’t bring up what the market did to educational savings plan? These questions are just too big.
REWRITE
It’s been 12 days since the marathon. Now What?
Do I sign up for another marathon? Do I stick with 13.1 mile races? I would like to get back to trail running. Perhaps it’s time to get back into cycling? That small bit of free-climbing I did at Yosemite felt amazing. Perhaps it’s time to break out the gear and go back to the rock-gym?
I haven’t run since the marathon. I had intended to take the first week off and recover. I felt fine about 5 days after the race and decided to play a few sets of tennis. As I started to hit, I was introduced to some very deep, very unhappy bone-hugging leg muscles. They were pissed! So I took another week off running.
The first 7 days back at work have been amazingly productive. Hell week at work has passed and now as the wake settles, there is smooth sailing until January. At home, I was much less productive. I haven’t done much and that’s a beautiful thing. The biggest to-do on my list is to dig up and replace an old sprinkler head – Mañana (doesn’t mean tomorrow, more like someday).
The highlight of my home-time was when I deleted all those old burdensome draft-mode blog posts and decimated my Facebook friends list. I started 3 different blog posts and hated and trashed them all too.
I have committed to leave my laptop at work during the entire month of August. When work can’t be brought home, life becomes simple. I think they call that relaxation. As a person who is frequently referred to as “high energy”, not much to do can quickly turn into stir-crazy.
Limbo. I’m feeling it. I have the Disneyland Half-Marathon in a few weeks and I am looking forward to that. I just haven’t started “training” for that race yet. It will be OK. It will be fun. Running should be fun. Besides, life’s too fricking short to race hard through Disneyland.
So August at home has been filled with a lot of reading, recovery, Yankees games and music. The start of August marks the passing of the Yankees’ Thurman Munson as well as the birth and passing of Jerry Garcia.
Jerry Garcia
Jerry and the Dead are always with me in one form or another, especially when I run. There was at least an hour of Dead tunes during my marathon. It was a special feeling to have them singing in my ears as I ran through Haight Ashbury. I count my blessings that I am able to get out and run whenever I hear Jerry sing “Oh well a touch of gray, kinda suits you anyway”. It reminds me that life is short and that every day is a gift, kind of like those specially painted grey hairs.
Before the start of the marathon, I had about 5 different unusual events quickly sort themselves out. Some of them could have been problematic. The least of those worries that beautiful morning was that the first song in my running music somehow wasn’t on my mp3player. I am not going to bore you with the details/drama/panic, but let’s just say that for the first-time ever I started a race not to Thrillseeker by Puretone, but with my “waiting for the start of the race” song, “Sitting Here in Limbo, by Jerry Garcia and David Grisman”. I was probably the only runner singing his way through that first joyous mile.
I thought I would include a video of this song. Take a moment, will ya? Turn it up and feel the mandolin play. It will be good for your soul.
Did you listen?
So in a few verses, here’s where I’m at:
Sitting here in limbo Waiting for the dice to roll Sitting here in limbo Got some time to search my soul
Well, they’re Putting up resistance But I know that my faith Will lead me on
I don’t know where life will lead me But I know where I’ve been I can’t say what life will show me But I know what I’ve seen
Tried my hand At love and friendship But all that is passed and gone This little boy is moving on
Sitting here in limbo Waiting for the tide to flow
Sitting here in limbo Knowing that I have to go
Well they’re putting up resistance
But I know, my faith will lead me on.
So as the sun sets on day 17,189 of my time on this planet (I had Excel do the math), I find myself sitting here in Limbo in my backyard. There’s a great breeze here in limbo. I’ve got things to do, but like always, I will get to them; Mañana. I think tomorrow will bring a 35+ mile bike ride. Or it might not.
Big things, little things, it will all be alright. Just as spinning tops aren’t made for stopping, I am down to my very core, “Bound to Cover Just a Little More Ground”.
NOT FLAT! There is 1,738ft of climb and 1,738 ft. of decent.
Organization
Top Notch!
Terrain
Mostly Street. Five miles of bridge, and a small section on the sidewalk
Water Stations
More than enough. A number were stocked with a plentiful supply of GU.
Highlights
Many including running along the Embarcadero, the Golden Gate Bridge, Haight Ashbury, Golden Gate Park, the running by AT&T Park.
Other Events
Munchkin run, a 5K and 2 half marathons
Good for Beginners?
Maybe not.
INTRODUCTION: I have found myself too comfortable with the half-marathon distance. I was inspired by tweeps, friends and family to try and “Cover Just a Little More Ground“. Last year I had wanted to run one of the two half marathons associated with the San Francisco marathon, but work travel interfered. This year the work calendar was more friendly to the event so I decided that this venue of San Francisco in July would be the perfect place to step up to the marathon distance.
THE COURSE:
The race starts at the Embarcadero just North of the Bay Bridge then continues down Fisherman’s Warf, through the Presidio, out and back across the Golden Gate Bridge and then into Golden Gate Park. From there, the race goes into historic Haight Ashbury. The last six miles of the course move through residential and commercial areas that bring the runners out to AT&T park. After that, one mile later is the finish line.
The course. Each number represents a 4.5 increment.
The race also offers two half marathons, one that starts at the beginning of the marathon and one that starts at mile 13. Given the choice, I would have run the more scenic first half of the race. The second half through Golden Gate Park was beautiful but not as special as the first half.
There was also a lot of running through industrial and residential areas in the second half of the marathon. Those miles weren’t remarkable, but that’s not unusual when running through a big city. At mile 25, I would have loved the opportunity to run the outfield of AT&T park much like the Disneyland half marathon offers the opportunity to run through the outfield of Angel’s Stadium. As it was game day for the Giants, that was an unlikely tour.
THE WEATHER: The weather is always a variable in San Francisco, but this particular day the temperatures ranged from the mid to upper 50s in the morning to a high of 75. I had running gloves and jacket available at the start line, but I checked them about 15 minutes before my start time.
ELEVATION PROFILE: I went out for dinner with family the night before the race and as we were walking back to the car up a very steep hill, The Child turns to me and said, “Daddy, you know what would really suck? Having to run up these hills.“
The full marathon elevation profile is presented in the image below. Although the difference between the max and minimum elevation was about 400 feet by my GPS, the sum of all the elevation gains across the 20 or so hills was about 1,738 feet. The hills appear formidable and they are not as bad as they seem. The hills shouldn’t stop anyone capable of running the distance. Remember that the course is a loop, so for every climb there is a descent.
In retrospect, there are only three remarkable hills at miles 5, 10 and 14. The first two of them are steep but not long. The one significance hill starts in Golden Gate Park at Mile 14 and ends at mile 17. That one is a grind, but is by far not the worst that San Francisco could offer.
Elevation Profile
RACE ORGANIZATION: These people know how to pull off a race. From registration to post race follow-up, they have all the bases well covered. There were plenty of water stations all well-stocked and staffed. There were also an ample supply of Gu in all flavors well into the race.
The race was very environmentally friendly. That was not an accident, it was deliberate, thoughtful and appreciated. With that acknowledgement, my only suggestion for this race is that since GU was in plentiful supply at the water stations, there should have been more emphasis on directing the runners to put the GU wrappers directly into trash cans rather than just dropping them for someone else to hopefully pickup. This could have been a great opportunity for the race organizers or the GU sponsor, to make special containers reminding the runners that wrappers are not biodegradable and need to be properly disposed of.
A good spot for a GU-specific Trash Can
I am not sure how the organizing committee managed to set up the traffic control logistics between miles 20 and 24, but it was amazing. Other runners tried to figure out why we all of a sudden had to change the route, I just did what I was told by the course marshals and it all turned out just fine.
MY EXPERIENCE:
I ran this, my first full marathon just 10 days after my 47th birthday. Did I do it in Berlin, where the roads are flat? Nope! I ran it in San Fran-fricking-frisco! They cant’ take that away from me.
I don’t mean to imply that this race was in any way easy, but much like life, it is easier if you are running towards something.
Mile 19 – You tell me, how was my experience?
I wanted to run through Fisherman’s Warf. I was giddy the first time the fog-engulfed Golden Gate Bridge came into view. I only had to run 5 miles to get to this first bite of candy. By the time the bridge experience was over, I was at mile 10. It was fun and the fun made the run easy. Kind of like the whole spoon full of sugar thing.
From there it was only 9 more miles to Haight Ashbury. I’m a guy who listens to the Grateful Dead every week and I got to run to and through the famous Haight singing Scarlet Begonia’s with Bob Weir playing on my MP3. Word’s can’t do the feeling justice.
Yes, did a lot of singing during this race. I do that. Did I mention that I tie-dyed my shirt? You probably guessed that. It was originally a white Nike cotton shirt. It reminded me why I normally run in synthetic (owies).
From the Haight it was just six more miles to get to my second favorite baseball stadium in the world, AT&T park. If you don’t know by now, I have certain idiosyncracies when I travel. When in San Francisco, if I have an extra hour before a flight I will go to AT&T Park and walk that exact route around the stadium that I ran for this race. It’s one of my favorite places on the planet and I got run to it.
Was I lucky or blessed to be able to run route that brought me so much joy? I was certainly blessed to be able to complete the distance. I was surprised by the number of people I saw having difficulty near the end. I was tired, but by the grace of God, I wasn’t cramping, limping or in pain. Maybe that had something to do with the bottle of Poweraid and the snacks that my ladies gave me mile 12? I don’t know, but wasn’t that just another type of blessing?
Pretty much everything I wrote about in December materialized and was as wonderful as I expected. If you are interested, the link below will show a few more of my pictures from the run.
MY RESULTS
My two half marathons thus far in 2012 were completed in 2:24 and 2:30. With the added fatigue and the hills I was worried that I might not finish in the six-hour time limit. I figured I could reasonably reach the 9 and 18 miles marks at two and four hours respectively. With the fatigue factor and the 3 mile hill, I suspected there was a 20% chance I might not make the 6 hours time limit.
My official finish time posted as 5 hours, 32 min and 17 seconds. I was very pleased. Heck, if I didn’t take so many pictures I might have finished a good 10 minutes earlier, but what fun would that have been.
In looking back, I had written goals about the interim times as well as the placement, but not the actual finish time. I was hoping for less than 6 hours, but I never wrote that one down. I did write down these goals:
Written Goals
Actual Result
Complete Mile 9 in under 2 hours
1:48 (by GPS)
Complete the first half in 3 hours
2:42 (official time)
Complete Mile 18 in under 4 hours
3:45 (by GPS)
Complete the race faster than at least 3% of the finishers
5610 out of 6440 finishers (87%).
All in all, I have nothing to complain about and everything to be grateful for. My gratitude extends to all those who supported me before, after and during the race. I am also very grateful to the organizers and the volunteers.
If everything has worked out, at the time of this post, be running across the Golden Gate Bridge somewhere between mile 5 and 9 of the San Francisco Marathon.
I am 47-year old asthmatic am undertaking my first full marathon. I think I am ready both physically and mentally for this race. Let’s be clear though, this isn’t going to be glamorous, pretty or anything other than 12-13 minute-miles of slow paced going.
The slogan for this race is “Worth The Hurt”, how’s that for great marketing. I expect that with the killer hills, the race will take me more than six hours. This could be problematic as the race has a six-hour cut off. That should be the worst of my problems.
To keep this in perspective. If I make my run around this city in under six hours, then wonderful. I get to see all the things I have been hoping to see for 8 month. Even if I don’t finish, I will be sore for a few days and then I will heal up. I am 47 years old and I am in the best physical condition of my life. Others aren’t so lucky.
I have a friend from college whose son has Cystic Fibrosis. At 12 years old he is 5’1, he weighs only 69 pounds. His doctors say his lungs are the worst they have ever seen. So when I hear “Worth the Hurt”, I have to turn those words on their side and give thanks to God for the ability to come the start line and try this endeavor. I am going to do my best to keep in my thoughts as I hit the hard parts of this race.
I might normally ask you to keep me in your prayers today (actually, I am too proud to do that), but instead, may I ask you to instead say a prayer for Benji and the other children of the world who suffer from CF and other conditions that are not of their making.
A quick note of thanks to all those who have been so positive and supportive in my journey to this bridge. To my wife and The Child who have put up with my training, thank you. See you at mile 13. To those other friends who have given me advice and encouragement, thank you as well.
OK, I have to run, but I wanted to share an old song that I heard last week in church, this time, with a new ear. Hoping that it speaks to you as it did to me.
WE WILL RISE AGAIN by David Haas
Like a Shepherd, I will feed you I will gather you with care I will lead you and hold you close to my heart
We will run and not grow weary for our God will be our strength and we will fly like an eagle we will rise again
I am strength to the weary to the weak I am new life Though the young may grow weary I will be their hope
Lift up your eyes and see who made the stars I lead you and I know you I am your God
Fear Not! I am with you I am your God I will strengthen you and help you uphold you with my hand
Fall of 1987, I was a first semester grad student at Boston University. I was studying Bioorganic chemistry and doing my best as part of my graduate work to synthesize a t-butyl-tin-hydride, a substance cannot be be formed in the presence of oxygen. I spent several months trying to synthesize this material under nitrogen with very zero success and great frustration. The synthesis required more patience than I was blessed with at the time. The cleanup of the glassware also required more patience than I had and as a result, the was more than once instance where the person opening the glass dryer was blasted with the smell of tin (trust me, bad smell). There was pretty much no excuse for that, other than me just not being thorough enough at cleaning up.
Somewhat unfocused and without t-Butyl Tin Hydride
Other than the lack of money ($836/month after taxes) I had enjoyed the grad student experience. I enjoyed being TA for the four sections of Chemistry for freshman engineers. I enjoyed the learning, but the lab life was not for me.
During the week, when the lab was busy, we used to have on a radio station in the lab played a number of songs from 60s. California Dreaming was heavy in the rotation. I had heard that song many times growing up and during my four years at a small liberal arts college in Whittier, California. I heard that song with a very different ear living in Boston. It always sang out to me when it was on the radio.
One Saturday in the lab I put in a then relatively new Grateful Dead tape made during a concert in Red Rock in Colorado. During the song Playing in the Band, I heard Bobby Weir sing the words I had heard so many time before, “I can tell your future, just look what’s in your hands“. In my hands at that exact moment was a round-bottom flask of NOT t-butyl-tin-hydride. Something clicked and I decided to go back to California at the end of the semester.
One of the first things I did after that decision was to write away for mail order tickets to see The Dead in Oakland for the New Year’s show 1988. After finals were graded and scores turned in, I made the drive across the country from Boston to LA via the Southern route, passing through New York, Philly, Washington D.C., Tennessee, the Texas Pan Handle, and New Mexico. I stopped in Las Vegas to say hello to my mom and then I was off to Oakland.
Within four months, I found a job at a company I have been with for going on 25 years. I don’t regret moving to Boston or the time that spent there trying to find myself. Truth is, part of me was happy there, but a big part of me wasn’t. I am glad that I at least tried grad school life. I ultimately went on to get my MBA much later in life and I am happy with that decision.
There aren’t many huge decisions in life. If and where one goes to college, who one chooses to marry and where in the world to live are pretty much the big ones.
So, what were the moments in your life when it clicked, and you knew you had to make a change?
I woke up in the guest room this morning as I often do the morning after a long hard run. I change rooms during the night in consideration of my spouse, usually because I am sore, restless or because my metabolism burns me up. I woke up dehydrated this morning, a side effect of my 20 mile run yesterday.
A better way to describe yesterdays run would be to say that I had a 7 mile run after my “13 miles run with hills”. I wasn’t planning on that long of a workout, but I was at the top of a hill at the end of mile 13 and it was going to be at least another 3 miles to get home. It is so much easier to decide to run 20 miles when there are 13 in the rear-view mirror and a manditory 3 miles to go. I have my first full marathon in San Francisco at the end of July (in case you hadn’t heard) and I have been fretting about getting at least one more 20 in before the race.
This run was also a test of my new music for that Marathon. I added some songs from The Mamas and the Papas, Janice Joplin, and the Grateful Dead to enrich Mile 19 of the Marathon which runs through Haight Ashbury. Dylan, Hendrix and Richie Havens were also added to that mix for good measure. All this 60′s music and lots of time got me thinking. I realized it’s been 15 years since I read Kerouac’s “On the Road”. I remember the Atlanta book store where I bought my first copy and how I devoured it on the flight home that day. I became a father 3 months earlier and I was struck by this tale of youth and youthful exploration. That’s the job of youth, to explore.
As I finished the last mile of my run, the Who’s “The Seeker” started playing. This song is now at the back-end of my run music and rarely heard. I laughed to myself as I heard the lyrics
I asked Bobby Dylan I asked the Beetles
I asked Timothy Leary
but he couldn’t help me either
They call me the Seeker.
I’ve been searching low and high.
I won’t get to get what I’m after, ’til the day I die.
Dr. Tim had been in among my run-thoughts prior to this song mentioning his name. I still have his obituary cut carefully from the pages of the New York Times in June of 1996.
I had the good fortune of seeing Dr. Tim speak twice during the early 80′s. I remember him describing of the term he coined, “Thunks”, or cancer-causing thoughts. These are accepted practices in our society that one steps back and examines them critically, really don’t make sense. A trivial example might be the fact that flight attendants always demonstrate how you how to fasten a seatbelt, yet they usually start the demonstration after you’ve pulled away from the gate; AND YOU CAN’T PULL AWAY FROM THE GATE UNTIL EVERYONE’S SEATBELT IS CHECKED BY THE FLIGHT ATTENDANT!
From The New Yorker
Dr. Tim cited the Vatican’s call against the use of condoms in Africa where AIDS and overpopulation were crippling social issues. OK, his example was much more relevant than mine.
My takeaway from those Dr. Tim talks was that if we are not careful, we can become hopelessly ensnared in the paradigms that work, society and our parents have gifted us. Fish don’t see that water they live in, but they certainly recognize when it’s missing. So too, are we surrounded by thoughts and ideas that we accept without question; however, as that criminal Socrates said, ”The unexamined life is not worth living”.
Not everything we have learned is wrong, but everything should be considered and validated so we know what is true for us. The gifts from previous generations must be taken out examined every once in a while to ensure that they haven’t spoiled. That’s the other job of youth, to critically examine that which they have been handed-down and to decide what goes into their hope chest and what goes on to the bonfire of change.
If you have gotten this far in the post, I thank you for indulging this old deadhead. Peace.
I considered having my first marathon be the 2012 LA Marathon, even though I wasn’t enthralled with the venue. Once it was realized that my daughter had a cheer event that day, LA was out. I had wanted to run one of the two half-marathons in San Francisco in 2011, but work travel interfered. In 2012 all the stars seem aligned so I registered for 26.2 miles of fun through the streets of San Francisco.
The wonderful thing about the San Francisco Marathon is that they let the really slow people like me sleep an hour longer than the really fast people get to. For added decadence, our hotel is right by the starting line. By the time I call for the elevator, those really fast people will be half way done but still in the dark. I get to see everything in the daylight!
Once I meander past the stating line, I am looking forward to running by the Embarcadero and Fisherman’s Warf. The first big thrill will be when the Golden Gate bridge comes into view. I look forward to the 1.7 miles out and then the run back. I’ve heard it said that the bridge is up-hill both ways. I can tell you right now that regardless of how difficult those 5+ kill-ya-meters are, I am going to cherish the memories that develop.
View from below the Golden Gate Bridge. Doesn’t look difficult from this side.
I am rhapsodizing on mile 19 that travels through Haight Ashbury. I have requested that my name be presented on my race bib as “Dead Head”. I have the visual of myself in this part of the race feeling strong yet walking through the Haight to soak in the history and the feel the energy. The music of the Grateful Dead is always well represented during any of my runs, and during this particular stretch of land,I will have to add some Janice and Starship into the mix.
The next major landmark for me will around mile 25 as I approach AT&T Park. This is my favorite venue for baseball outside Yankee Stadium. If I have an extra two hours to spend in San Francisco you can usually find me there. To me, the area around the stadium is peaceful. The stadium is just beautuful and inviting when approached from the south. I look forward to seeing that first glimpse of the stadium, approaching it and then waving good-bye to it as I move towards the last mile of the race.
So with 7.5 months to go, I guess it’s time to stop writing and go find some hills to run up. Did I mention the hills? San Francisco has some. The great thing is that the course is in a loop, so every up-hill has a corresponding down hill and anyone can run down-hill, right?
An incredible view of AT&T Park and my two special loves
I love a good challenge. Especially when it comes to writing. So when I heard that Sarah Rosemary at Sunny Side Up and DailyAngst were hosting Reverb11, a series of prompts on 2011, I of course, realized that there was no way I had enough time to participate. That being said, here I go:
Prompt for December 1: Humble beginnings: where did 2011 begin for you? Describe where you were – be it physically, emotionally, or otherwise.
Click here to enter your link and become a part of our Reverb11 Journey…
“All the years combine. They melt into a dream a broken angel sings on a guitar” ~ Stella Blue by The Grateful Dead
January? That was a lifetime ago. This reflection required a little clarification from Daddy’s little helper, also known as my Day-Timer.
According to the Daily Mile, in 2010, I ran for a grand total of 55 miles. In January 2011, I logged 58 miles. Looking back, I realize that the commitment to run a half marathon in June motivated me to consistently run between 10 to 12 miles each week during the 5 weeks of January. Now that I have signed up for my first full marathon, I am hitting record mileage again, this time with more hills.
January also included a visit to the town where I grew up, Las Vegas. That city and I are effectively divorced; I only go there for the sake of The Child. A National cheer event in town during January marked the end of dear daughter’s 5 years in Pop Warner Cheer.
Day-Timer suggests we left for Vegas about 6am. We drove straight to the McDonald at Barstow Station. As I saw that old place, I realized that during the previous 35 years, I have been in that parking lot with most of the important people in my life. I’ve been there with both parents, my step-father, 3 of my great Aunts, my wife and daughter, girlfriends, friends and dear friends from high school and college. I recall stopping there on a bus when my high school Varsity Quiz team traveled to California as well as with the Sunrise Hospital Junior Volunteers. Several times, I was even in my beloved 1965 Ford Mustang.
When I took the picture below, I tagged it with nearly a dozen friends from Face Book that I had been there with. I thought it wonderful that Facebook has loosely kept me in touch with these people and prevented them from becoming ghosts. Ghosts are people and places that I still carry with me. Specifically they are those certain gray memory, ones that I know are real, but they could just have easily been a dream.
Reflection of Barstow Station
Most of my good memories in Las Vegas have been dynamited. At 16, I used to work at the tennis shop at the Sands hotel; blown up. My 16th birthday was at the Dunes; blown up. Buffet dinners with my mom at the Landmark, breakfast at the Thunderbird, step-father working at the Stardust … all imploded with nothing remaining but ghosts. Vegas hosts most of my ghosts, that’s why we got divorced.
The day of cheer competition was clearly laid out in my Day-Timer. The Child’s team competed at 11:22 and 2:25. Sunrise at 6:43am marked the time to start my 10 mile run. I started down Tropicana and made a left at the Strip. I waved at the space where the Dunes hotel used to be. The words “Look What They Done to My Song, Ma” came to my head. I sang the words out loud, because I could.
Back in 1974 early one morning, my mother and I walked down the Las Vegas strip. We started up by the Aladdin and worked our way back down towards downtown. I retraced many of those steps that morning. I proceeded past hotels that aren’t there anymore and the memories flooded over me. When I reached the Sahara, I made a right turn. My journey back to my hotel would take me down down streets with much less famous names like Joe W. Brown Drive, Swenson, and Koval Lane. It would also take me back to Thanksgivings and summers from the 70′s and 80′s. I remember vividly changing my mom’s flat tire one of those street one day and having the car fall off the jack. She yelled at me that I had broken the axle. I didn’t.
During my run I was most looking forward to seeing an old 7-11 I used to stop at. I had this amazing memory of being there one summer and relating to the song “Old Hippie” by the Bellamy Brothers. I have that song on my running music today. As I came to where the 7-11 used to be, I was disappointed to see it was gone. I stopped in the same spot and enjoyed the old Hippie song with that 30 year old ghost.
The rest of the run back to the hotel was filled with long-forgotten memories. When I finally hit Tropicana, I made my right turn and ran back to the Strip. I walked the last mile back to the hotel in order cool down. I was going to be doing a lot of sitting the rest of the day and night.
During my walk, I thought of the people who worked in the restaurants and hotels in Vegas, much like I had done as a teen and as my mother and step-father did. Gratitude for all I have and am filled me up along with a good full Irish breakfast. It felt decadent to start the day with two black and tans, but you know what I say, “what happens in Vegas, may not have a remedy”.
The Child and her National Championship Cheer Squad
I left Vegas for good at age 19. My daughter is now 14. We’ve had very different expeiences of the town. She’s gone horseback riding, been indoor skydiving, up to Mt.Charleston and won a national cheer championship there. I’ve realized that we can’t control what our children remember about their childhood, but we certainly can put them in an environments and in situations that are more likely to create good memories.
