Running inside the Coliseum

Did you know that once a week, anyone can run laps inside the Coliseum? That’s the massive circular-bowl stadium in LA with an oval Olympic-standard track around its playing field. The home field for the USC football team, it housed the 1932 and 1984 Olympics. The Brooklyn Dodgers played there when they moved out west. It hosted Super Bowls I and VII. It is a National Historic Landmark.

Every Tuesday morning they open it to runners. I have spent the last couple of days posting about "fixing" my Profile for the new year, but I haven’t told you where I have been. This morning I was running laps in the Coliseum at an RBF reunion set up by Bex, who now lives in LA. Also there were David, Rich and Jeanne. It was an unbelievable feeling to be inside the huge historic structure, standing on the broad composition orange-brown track with the bright white lines separating the eight lanes. I looked up and all I saw was the majestic sweep of stands rearing back all around me, except for one open end of the stadium where there were columns inside an arch housing two larger-than-life-size statues of semi-clad perfect Olympian athletes, a male and a female.

I was running fast laps with David. Rich, because he has a marathon next week, was taking it easy. Jeanne was running with Bex, but they appeared to be doing more talking than running. They used to work together and I guess they were catching up. Besides, Bex has a marathon in two weeks. David and I seemed to have some sort of competitive thing going, and we were passing the other RBFers practically every lap. David is doing a marathon in a few weeks, and he seems to be in tip-top form. He was almost impossible to keep ahead of.

It was warm and light at 7 am. This was a special workout and I was so appreciative of Bex for arranging this, and glad that the other RBFers could respond to the special invitation also. Despite the early hour, the stadium was alive. Several runners were circling the track. Other athletes were pounding up and down the stairs in the stands.

Because our laps seemed to be a little slow despite our hard running, David and I decided that the venerable old Coliseum track was a quarter mile in length, like all American tracks used to be, not the slightly shorter 400M, which is the length on almost all tracks today. We had done several repeats and were lining up to start another one. Bex and Jeanne were coming around the last curve towards us. I didn’t know where Rich was, I think he might have been sitting over by our bags, quaffing water. At that moment the alarm went off and I woke up. I have to tell you, I just hate it when that happens.

Two Days Off

It's baaack. Due to the pain returning in my injured foot after I did an intermediate run, a track workout and a recovery run (running home from the track) in one day, I took the next two days, Thursday and Friday, off. But on Saturday I had to lead the intermediate group in the TMG program I direct because both intermediate coaches were away. That band of runners was scheduled to do 9 miles.

Because of my sore foot, I was tempted to wave the group on down the trail and wait for them to come back in an hour and a half. I'm glad I didn't because the route I chose for them to run was on the Custis Trail, a hilly and not particularly well-marked trail. It's within a few miles of my house so I have run it dozens of times but most of the eleven athletes in my group didn't know the trail. The three runners in the lead managed to go to the turnaround point and return without incident (thus earning them an A+ in sign reading) but I took the rest of the group on a wrong turn and we got into city streets and went a mile before I sheepishly admitted we were lost.

Lost? Not me. Not lost really, because I knew exactly where we were by then since I live around there, but we were no longer anywhere near the trail. Like a guy finally having to ask for directions, I collected the eight runners following me, 'fessed up and had them backtrack to the trail. We got our nine miles done by turning around early to compensate for the distance we ran while lost.

That's what makes running exciting, seeing new places as you run along trying to figure out where the hell you are. I joked with my group that our adventure demonstrated why runners should always carry a fare card, so they can jump aboard a Metro to get back when they're miles off course.

I wore an ace bandage on my injured foot and it felt okay. After the workout, I went with Not Born To Run to wish Bex goodbye. (Left. The group Jeanne runs with at the TMG actually stretches before their runs. Jeanne is the flexible one in the visor.)

You're leaving? Bex was leaving town that very day for good. We went to lunch with her and E after they finished packing their car like a suitcase with the rest of their possessions left over after the movers left. It was packed, too. To squeeze that last box of Kleenex into the car, Bex had to pull the tissues out and throw the box away.

Jeanne was kind enough to treat us all to lunch as a goodbye to Bex after years of working with her and a thanks to me for hauling E's loveseat over to her house when Bex gave it away. Thanks Jeanne!

At the restaurant Jeanne and I and Bex were talking about marathons and times and saying off the top of our heads how you needed a 9:09 pace to break four hours, how a 3:50 was about an 8:48, and how you needed to run at about an 8:33 pace if you're going for a 3:45. It all was very stimulating for the three of us. (Right. Bex at rest during her seventh leg at Lake Tahoe.)

What are you talking about? I looked at E, the non-runner in the group. He's a terrific tennis player instead. He was politely smiling and looking like he was listening. I asked him what he was really doing while we were talking thus. He said, "Balancing my checkbook in my head."

I persisted, "What do you hear when we talk running like this?"

"I imagine it's like what our dog Nelson hears when humans talk," he explained. "It goes like this. Blah blah blah blah Nelson blah blah blah bad dog blah blah blah blah blah come blah blah blah no blah blah...."

E is a riot.

After lunch Bex and E left for the great state of Californi-yay. Permanently. Sigh.

You did what? A called from the new town she just moved to and said she had just completed her first 20-miler as she gets ready for Chicago. I was instantly insanely jealous. All I had done so far to get ready for Chicago was an ugly sixteen. (Left. A during her moving sale on Capitol Hill. She's the one on the stairs.)

But the very next morning, Sunday, I had my own 20-miler scheduled.

The 2007 DC Cherry Blossom 10-Mile Race, an early report

35th Credit Union Cherry Blossom 10-Mile Race.

Here in DC, the Cherry Blossoms are already at a delicate beauty. And today we had our internationally renowned Cherry Blossom 10-Mile Race. It was exciting to see!

The last time I looked, the results still weren't in. But I do know that Teyba Erkesso of Ethiopia posted a world record today. (Dropping the chase group at MP 3.) I was on the Memorial Bridge at MP 3 and I saw her go by. She was by herself and the rest of the elite women pursuing her were already 30 yards back. Over the bridge in Virginia, they ran around a traffic circle and came back to the District via the same bridge. This time time the small pack pursuing her was 50 yards back. You go, girl! And she did, into the record books.

I was there to watch my NYCM running buddy, A., run the race. She had a hard fall and winter, recovering from a stress fracture in her foot. It was her first race since her layoff and she was placed in a seeded corral because she's pretty fast. She went by me on the bridge at a little over 22 minutes and I shouted out in encouragement, Go, A., you're doing 7:10s! Her look was withering. Try 7:40s, she shot back. Never lie to a woman.

Think racing isn't exciting? I next set up at MP nine and a quarter. Well before fifty minutes, four elite men came flying by, bunched together in a loose ball. Who would break out and win? Would the people three minutes down the road be treated to a finish worthy of the 2005 NYCM? I still don't know and I can't wait to find out.

(Above: The elite men charging homeward a little after the ninth mile. They are overtaking an elite woman who started ten minutes before them. One of these four would win in under fifty minutes. Which one?)

A. came by and finished at around 1:15:40 or so, a great time in her recovery from injury. When she passed me less than a mile out, I chased her for a moment on the sidewalk alongside the road and shouted at her to go! Beat those men around her! Good move (another withering look). Thus alerted, the men sped up. Think racing isn't exciting to watch? She ran a great race. (A. and Jake training in DC during the cold snowy winter for the 2007 Cherry Blossom Run. Jake pulled out at the last minute. The weather conditions during the race were ideal.)

By the time A. came by, my friend Jeanne had long since come and gone. I'm sure her finishing time was fantastic too, especially since she is coming back also, from recent surgery. I can't wait to get her official time.
(Not Born to Run pursuing the leader in the 2007 Cherry Blossom 10-Mile Race just before she got serious and threw off her warm-up clothes. Go to her blog to view her finishing push.)

Starting Over Again

You gotta read Not Born To Run's latest post, although you won't find it on her blog. It's called Starting Over, that's what it's about, and you'll find it here. She's a brilliant writer so she describes it much better than I can. But here's what I think about starting over in running as synonymous with life.

Jeanne speaks words of wisdom. I wish her a rapid return to running.

When I started running seven years ago, I was brought to a screeching halt twice by, of all things, tendonitis in a single toe. The layoffs were a year apart. The only remedy each time was six weeks rest. Nothing else helped. (Thank you Dr. Lee.)

I chafed at the inactivity. Since I didn't practice yoga at the time, I did nothing. But when the six weeks was up, I had a hard time getting back to running.

I dreaded going out to start a run. I had gotten away from carving time for a run out of my busy day. I'd lost all my prior fitness. I had to go through that unpleasant feeling of oxygen-deprivation during my first few runs back. I didn't like it anymore. I had to start over.

But you know what those enticements to lethargy were? Excuses. A lack of will and a diminution of self-esteem. I felt like giving up because it was too hard. So what if I returned to being overweight and just sinking down on the couch, shut up in my house alone, to watch TV. Hey, it's March Madness time. A game is on somewhere.

But I got through my doubts and lassitude. I found discipline and exerted patience. I didn't ruin running for myself by being stupid about starting over. I refrained from running impulsively or compulsively at the beginning and re-injuring myself.

I ran once in week seven. I ran twice in week eight. I ran three times in my third week back. By the end of the month I was back to running regularly five times a week and feeling good about myself. I honored my body with a little fitness.

I did this twice, coming back from a forced lay-off. But I only had to come back from a little pain in a solitary toe. Jeanne has to come back from surgery. I know Jeanne and she'll be back better than ever.