Promoting running

It's been a rough three year stretch for me in terms of my health and especially my fitness.  I retired in early 2016, some (myself included) would say forcibly due to ageism, which is management discrimination, conscious and deliberate or not, against older workers by denigrating, downplaying and flat-out unfairly and unjustifiably marking down their evaluations mostly by a click of much younger persons, fresh managers who are looking out for their own power and also for management and not for their charges.  But I proved my case for the scourge of ageism a year and a half later when I settled my administrative case against my former agency in an o rder which: (i) gave me the proper last evaluation (for 2015) of Outstanding in place of the previously-given Satisfactory; (ii) paid me $5.000; (iii) issued a lifetime achievement award to me (mere window dressing); and most importantly to me (iv) required all managers involved in my bogus last evaluation to undergo training specifically in age discrimination.  Day 1 nominee John in front of Fleet Feet in the District.

I had double hernia surgery in late 2016 just when I was in the fittest condition of my life, running five times a week 3-6 rapid miles each outing and doing upper body conditioning.  I came back quickly enough from the surgery but I soon developed an achilles strain which prevented me from running for eight months and then a year ago, just when I had started running again, I suffered the occurrence of a detached retina prompting four eye surgeries over the course of a year during which I did not run so as to not suffer any mishaps (for half a year my eye was filled with silicon and I literally felt like it was a foreign object in my eye socket, and that if I tripped or stumbled and fell, it might burst open).  Day 2 nominee Sasha about to lead out the Monday Night FootMall Run.

May 1st I started running again but my return has been very slow indeed.  I am in my late 60s now with many aches and pains (and a recently diagnosed arthritic hip) but I have scrupulously run 3 times a week since then, albeit slowly with low mileage totals.  Last month I did a 5K race in about 31:32 but it left me enervated for a week.  Day 3 nominee Greg getting photobombed.

Plus I run alone now.  Nope, no running buddies anymore, that's just the new normal now that I'm retired and old, so I lack motivation to extend or push runs many days.  But I love to get out there and get my second wind after a mile or so and just run down road after road.  My eye troubles did affect my vision and I have to concentrate on broken roadways and I can't see to run at night so that's a limiting factor.  Day 4 nominee Rhea helping me start my return to running last spring in Oxford, England.

A few days ago a friend of mine from my running heyday last decade challenged me on Facebook to nominate 10 people in 10 days to post a picture associated somehow with running with no explanation of it and to ask them to nominate their own 10 persons in 10 days to promote running and develop the sport.  I gladly accepted the challenge and in this post are (or soon will be) my ten nominees, plus the photos, and why I chose them.  Day 5 nominee Leah on a Holiday Lights Christmas Run in the District.

The challenge goes like this:
I was nominated by Lesley Green
Day 1 of the 10 Day Runner's Challenge:
Every day I select a day from a life of running that has had an impact on me or has been a memorable moment and post it without a single explanation. Then nominate someone to take the challenge. Be active, be positive, be passionate.... Grow the sport.
Today's nomination is: John.  Day 6 nominee Karston, not pictured, but hopefully inspired by a picture of Meb Keflezighi out promoting the sport of running in the District around the time he was the first American to win the Boston Marathon in a quarter-century.

The first photo, above, goes with my nomination of John, a former coach of mine when I was the training director for the DCRRC and later president.  He gave me immeasurable support when I sat on the board of DCRRC with a bunch of unruly young upstart pissants on the board who thought I was a hidebound old-timer because I used a film camera instead of a digital one and actively disrupted every meeting I conducted.  But when they disrespected my friend John to his face at a meeting and almost provoked a fistfight by their puerile disruptive behavior (I'm talking about you Brian, Kenny, Mike and Scott), I left the club.  John was also my running buddy here in the District for years till he got married and moved to Arizona with his new bride.  He's to my left in the picture, in front of Fleet Feet in Adams Morgan, the premiere running store in the District, where day 2's nominee, Sasha, conducted a Sunday Training program to go along with the Saturday Training program I conducted out of Gotta Run in Arlington.  She's in the front row, all in green.  She's also in the second photo, at the meeting point across the street from the Watergate for the Monday Night FootMall run (with beer and tacos at a local pub afterwards), a program she created as a training coach I brought into the club.  To the left in the picture is her future husband Jay, who was (I could tell) actively courting her at the time.  Jay's on the right in the orange shirt in the Fleet Feet picture.  Fun times when running is allowed to be fun.  Day 7 nominee Edward, past president not the DCRRC meeting with U.S. Senator Mark Warner during his term as president.

The Day 3 nominee is Greg, the running rock star at my former agency.  He could throw down a sub-three hour marathon or a 16-minute 3-miler and he anchored the win my agency had in the Capital Challenge 3-Mile Team Race a few years back in the Executive Division.  That division is a tough one because it is filled with service teams, Army, Navy, Coast Guard, and slews of those young men are always the front runners at that meet.  I used to lead out the noontime runners at my agency and assemble the ACLI team but Greg took over those functions when I left.  He is a friend, an occasional running buddy (he's normally too fast for me) and a former colleague who puts many scammers in the docket as a government lawyer.  In the third picture he is to the left, looking bemused as a clueless tourist goes wandering across the front of the noontime runners' group portrait at the MLK statue, unconsciously photobombing it.  You can have funny moments when you allow running to be fun.  Day 4 featured Rhea, a fellow trainee in a dcrrc 10-miler training program, later a coach of mine and a running buddy before she moved back to her California roots with her husband Eric.  Day 5 featured Leah, a friend and former colleague, my last running buddy, and someone who provided wise counsel to me during the difficult days I had as president of the dcrrc dealing with the young turks on the board of directors.  Leah is also in the day 3 photo in a pink jacket.  Day 8 nominee Susan, center, past president of dcrrc, responsible for implementing many of the training programs at the club, thereby making it relevant to much of the DC running public, with Kristin, standing, club volunteer extraordinaire who suggested, developed and first ran many of the training programs the club currently sponsors.

Day 6 featured Karsten, a dedicated volunteer and avid runner at the dcrrc, a frequent poster on FB and someone who I think promotes the sport of running well without seeming to actively try to do so.  Day 7 featured Ed, the president of the dcrrc before I was, its track coach and a prominent figure in the club.  Day 8 honored Susan, longtime president of the DC Road Runners Club, who was instrumental in bringing many of the current programs to the club.  Day 9 featured my fried and former colleague Markus who is an avid barefoot runner.  Before he went into private practice, he used to run with me so regularly on the three days a week I took whoever was interested in wellness at my agency out for a 3-5 mile noontime (another person I sponsored took interested colleagues out for a 2-3 mile walk at noon weekly) that people in my division laughingly called such runs "the Peter & Markus show."  He was a little faster than me.  I ran several races with him and I was usually within striking distance of overtaking him and working hard to do so midway through many races but I never once caught him as he always had a better finishing kick than me.  It was frustrating but good for me, it made me better.  Day 9 nominee, Markus, on the right, participated in several Christmas Tree Runs I led along the Mall.

Running was my ticket to fitness and better health when I arrived in my late 40s at the millennium overweight and sedentary to a fault.  I have been at it ever since, happily so, since then with two major lay-offs due to injuries.  I recognize that running is not for everyone but it has kept me healthy, happy and relatively sane, especially during my emotionally and financially ruinous, scurrilous four-year divorce which cost me my children extra-judicially due to the Western scourge of PAS (Parental Alienation Syndrome).  I have honored and promoted the sport of running over the years by participating fully in it, which includes doing it 3-5 times a week, running races each week for a decade until I reached my sixties when I slowed down, encouraging and selflessly assisting others to participate in it by running the wellness program for awhile at my former agency (when it had a commission chair who believed in the health benefits provided to employees by active exercise), being the training director then the president in 2009 at the DMV running club I formerly belonged to, and running with friends and acquaintances as a form of regular exercise and social interaction, even though I sometimes received scorn from others as engaging in "chaperoned running" or that I was wasting my time on a difficult hobby, especially given the vicissitudes of the weather in swampy DC, or taking too much time away from petty work tasks (I was known to often work late into the evenings or on weekends).  I well remember long runs through interesting places (DC is full of them) with cherished running buddies such as Rhea, David, Ashley, Markus, Leah, Eric, Katie, Greg, Robin, John, Sasha and so many others, and enjoying different places such as Portland, Denver, Columbus, St. Paul, Santa Fe, Lake Tahoe, Los Angeles, Oxford, Boulder and a dozen other places through long runs.  Accidents occasionally happen (I have tripped and fallen heavily onto cement surfaces a half-dozen times that I remember and been nudged by cars more than once by drivers who are turning right from a stop sign or red light without looking right first or last for pedestrians but I have also once or twice been able to report strange people or occurrences to police or assist a person in acute distress.  I love running and suggest its regular employment for your betterment to you, dear reader, if it is suitable for you.  My final choice for a person who has had an impact on me through friendship and running and engaged in a memorable moment of mine (she found me wandering listlessly in the broiling heat at MP 24 of the infamous 2006 waterless Chicago Marathon--later dubbed the 26.2 Chicago Fun Run, and shepherded me to the finish line in about 4:35 just before the authorities closed the race midstream and blocked all runners from going any further on the course), who personified the active, positive, passionate nature of and helped grow the sport, is Ashley.  Day 10 nominee is Ashley, on the right.  Also in the picture are previous nominees Greg (second from left) and Markus (next to Ashley).

Final Dental Visit, Part Ten.

On my long run back to my house from my dentist's office in Reston, I fell in the last couple of miles with a person I hadn't seen in several years, whom I had known from my days when I associated with the DCRRC.  I was president in 2009 and she was on the board later, after I left the club over disagreement with the direction the club was headed in under an upstart group of puissant twenty-somethings who constantly disrupted my meetings and surreptitiously usurped my intended programs, out of personal malice towards me fostered by my being twice their age I think.

It was a pleasure to catch up with Stephanie as we loped along eastwards on the W&OD Trail towards Falls Church.  She too left the club, after some inane remarks found their way into a Washington Post article about running in the District two years ago by the then-president (the ringleader of the afore-mentionted band of pissants) speaking on behalf of the club and dripping contempt towards "recreational" runners (as opposed to "competitive" runners like himself). 

Stephanie is a personal trainer now, working for herself and raising a family, and she was finishing up a 14-miler as she gets ready to run the Richmond Marathon this fall.  When I first saw her, she was on the bridge, tongue planted in cheek, filming a weather and traffic report on the approaching hurricane (which hit the Carolinas instead of us) and its impact on traffic on the beltway below (none).

The miles fell away easily now as both of our paces picked up a little in conjunction with keeping up with each other and chatting easily.  I decided to turn my 10-miler into a 12-miler to travel further down the trail with her into Arlington so I could pick up my car, which I had parked close to the East Falls Church Metro station when I took the silver line to my dentist's office that morning.

A Leopard's Spots

In 2009 I was elected president of the DC Road Runners Club, a post for which, coming into it as club director of training, I had a lot of ideas that I hoped to implement so the club could become more inclusive of and welcoming to ordinary runners.  I immediately ran into  buzz-saw of opposition from a group of 20-somethings on the board led by Brian Danza, who hated my style (from the training side of the club, not the Alpha side) and my age and within a year I resigned when one board meeting nearly ended in a fracas between me and him and three of his cronies.

I have always regretted that, not the near-fistfight in the restaurant (they totally dissed my friend John Braden at the meeting who was there as my guest) but the whole sorry mess of trying to run underwater all those months.  I learned that you need your people on a board, it's not enough just to do good work and think that people will adhere to long-standing custom and common civility.

I moved on from the club and I rarely speak with anyone from it.  Brian subsequently became president and then recently, after some particularly outrageous remarks dissing ordinary runners that made it into the Washington Post, someone else was elected president (selected would be a better word), from the training side.  : )  Over the weekend, out of the clear blue sky, I received this email from Brian in my personal account:


Hey Peter, long time no see/talk, 

I think I spotted you on the C&O canal today, well actually you were on Cap Crescent, and I was on the C&O. 

I was so concentrated on making it to the bathroom at Fletchers that I didn't notice you until you were directly beside me. 

How's your running been? Still have nagging injuries? You look like you are in the best shape since I've known you. 

B.

Here's what I sent in reply a couple of days later:

Good to hear from you Brian,

No that wasn't me on the C&O, this weekend I was on the W&OD. It must have been my doppelgänger.  

Take care,

Peter

People don't change but I suppose they can mature.

Out with the old, in with the new

As a former president of the DCRRC (2009), I want to congratulate my friend Lauren Bullis (pictured below completing a relay race in 2009) upon his election as president of the DC Road Runners Club.   Lauren replaces the divisive and controversial outgoing president who had this to say in a Washington Post article last year about the vast majority of runners in DC:

Brian Danza, president of D.C. Road Runners, divides runners into two groups: the competitive subset, who run for time, and the participatory or recreational group, or “people who do it to check a box.” Speaking on behalf of his running club, he said, “we firmly promote the sport of running in a competitive manner.”

Running a marathon just for the sake of completing one, said Danza, isn’t worth the effort. Danza cites “the advent of social media and bragging” as fueling marathons’ increased popularity. “The way to one-up each other — ‘I’m thinner than you, I’m better than you in various ways, I also checked this box’ — has really perpetuated the growth of the sport.”

Lauren has an attitude about runners, inclusion and participation that is diametrically opposed to that expressed on behalf of the club by Mr. Danza.  I am delighted with the new, promising direction taken by my former running club.

"Isn't worth the effort."

As a former president of D C Road Runners Club, I will speak to the hurtful and arrogant comments made by the club's current president in a Washington Post article published Friday, which article extolled runners in DC. Current DCRRC president Brian Danza explained that his club "firmly promote[s] the sport of running in a competitive manner."  

The article cited Mr. Danza as saying, "Running a marathon just for the sake of completing one isn't worth the effort."  Recreational runners, such as presumably the vast majority of participants in today's People's Marathon, "do it to check a box," according to Mr. Danza.

The club under the care of the president one before me and then myself believed in inclusion and participation, not elitism and disdain for the common runner.  We provided training programs for persons wishing to engage in or initiate a more fit lifestyle, for people who aspired to run a 5K or a 10K or a marathon, and actively encouraged achieving such a lofty goal.  

The club president mid-last decade and myself did not denigrate the efforts expended by such ordinary athletes for the uncommon accomplishment of running a marathon, even in perhaps 4 or 5 hours or more, rather, we tried to encourage and facilitate such activities by creating and running training programs tailored to certain races such as the Capital Hill Classic 10K, the ATM, and the National Marathon and HM.  (Recognition goes to Kristin Blanchet for being the genesis of such programs becoming a regular part of the club.)  

I consider it asinine that "competitive" runners such as Mr. Danza might say "recreational" runners are merely wasting their time by their participation.  (Mr. Danza related to the reporter that anything less than "competitive" running is merely "the way to one-up each other-I'm thinner than you, I'm better than you, I checked this box.")

I hail all those runners who did their best this morning at the MCM, all 30,000 athletes, and whatever time they achieved, I urge them all to exult in having accomplished a hard feat that 99% of all people have never performed.   I salute them all for undertaking the task and sticking with it and finishing it, competitive and recreational runners alike!

Film

I have been using throwaway cameras for my snapshots for years now.  They are little boxy things with film inside.

I'm quite shameless in asking passerbys to snap a picture of me in front of a marvel, usually during a running outing but often while on vacation too (see my recent posts).  I always say, as the person starts out by holding the camera away from himself or herself as though the cardboard box would magically sprout a window display,  "You're too young to know how this artifact works but... ."

At which point they focus on a point in their recent or dim past and say, "Oh, I know how these work."  And they look through the viewfinder and snap the picture.

Only once I had a person that truly didn't have a clue.  She kept trying to take the picture backwards, with the lens pressed up against her face as she squinted through the viewpoint the wrong way.

And once a little boy,once his father had obligingly snapped my photo at Camden Yards, snatched the camera away and tried to "see" the image on the back of the disposable camera.  He went into a snit when I wouldn't "show" him the picture by bringing it up on the cardboard backside.

And two weeks later, I get to relive the moment when I get the developed pictures back from the photo lab.  Often, I have no idea what the picture shows, or where it was shot from or why.

LOL.  Lately it's been an instigator of comments that border on the incredible as in, Where do you go to develop this thing?

A few years back, when I was president of the local DC running club, my picture taking with a film camera truly was a object of hatred by the club's twenty-something IT department members, because it showed how backwards and stupid I was.  Those three young turks, all board members, coupled with a sad sack VP they co-opted through temporary friendship, forced me to resign by disrupting all of my board meetings with their disrespectful and confrontational antics.

The chief instigator of the coup is now the president, although the club at least waited until he turned thirty before voting him the post (the winning slates are pre-selected by a committee).  As president I had tried to look into irregularities in the way he was handling the club's money flow (he controlled the PayPal account), but I had no support for such a potentially explosive inquiry on the existing board.

A concern I had with going digital is that whenever I carry a camera on a run, I'd rather carry a $7 piece of equipment instead of a $200 one.  Plus, whenever I would line up a running shot and click the shutter, it would take the picture about half a second later, not instantly as with film (I actually had a digital camera but disliked it).

Anyway, yesterday I went out and dropped $200 on a Pentax WG-10 Adventure Proof dust-proof, water-proof, shockproof digital camera with anti-movement software, 5X optical zoom and 14 Megapixels.  The purchase price included a photo card and a thumb-drive thingy which allows me to move the snapshot from the card to my Mac.

I spent an hour last night formatting my photo (storage?) card and setting the location and the time on the thing.  It's the same size as my dumb phone although its 2 or 3 times thicker and heavier.

  

This morning I ran 5 miles on the Mall with a running buddy and she showed me how to actually snap pictures with it and delete the undesirable images.  She also welcomed me to...well, not to the future but rather to catching up with the present.

A 5K Race

I ran my first race yesterday since Thanksgiving, the W&OD Trail 5K which passes by my back door twice.  Ten minutes before the start time I headed out on foot to pick up my bib and line up for the start. 

On hand as the honorary Race Marshal was a D-Day veteran, an Army Ranger who scaled the Pointe du Hoc heights at Omaha Beach on that fateful day.  When I thanked him for his service in making a better world for us all he said modestly, "I was just a teenager then."  Let's see, what movie should we go see tonight boys, or maybe we'll just take out some German cannon instead on a towering prominence defended by enfilading machine gun fire.

This is the third year in a row I've run this race, cutting down my time each year.  Two years ago it was my return to racing after a year and a half layoff due to injury and I struggled to run the 5K in under thirty minutes in 29:12.  Last year was a slog too as I wilted in the last mile and finished in 27:54. 

I got the thirty-minute bugaboo off my back last July 4th when I ran an afternoon 5K race in the RFK parking lots in 107 degree heat in 32 minutes and change, with several walk breaks.  It was a free race but I finally crashed through thee thirty-minute barrier the wrong way on that brutal day and I was able to stop worrying about being over thirty minutes in a 5K race.  Such are the little milestones we pass in life as the years advance.

Yesterday I went out steadily and felt good the entire race.  I only looked at my watch once, when the finish line hove into view far down the trail and I wondered if I could break 27 minutes as my watch said 26:00.  But the finish was too far off for that so I relaxed until the last 200 yards when I kicked it up a little so I wouldn't get passed  by an incoming runner.  After the midway point in the race nobody passd me and I picked off about a dozen runners ahead of me.

My time was 27:23 (8:48), half a minute faster than a year ago.  I was second in my age group, but then again I beat nobody in my age group either.  The only other male in my age group was my friend Bob Platt, also a past president of the DC Road Runners Club, who beat me by almost two minutes.  Afterwards we chatted about old times, two past DCRRC presidents re-living old glories as we crash into our sixties.  I used to be able to break 22 minutes in a 5K, and also to regularly beat Bob, but we were practically teenagers then, so to speak.

We also chatted about our misgivings concerning the recent conduct of the current club president.  This guy headed the club's IT department when I was president and he led a clique of young board members who obstructed me and were unbelievably insolent to me personally at board meetings but more importantly, he controlled the club's PayPal account and he and his cronies actively withheld crucial information from me about club matters.  I asked two vice presidents to look into these irregularities but when they declined to get involved, I resigned rather than ignore my fiduciary duty to the club.

After a few minutes of basking in the pleasant after-glow of a race well run and the camaraderie of seeing old friends again, I jogged to my house.  Six short minutes later I was home again.  It was a great weekend of running.

Coaching Anyone?

I used to run training programs for my old running club centered in the District until some incredibly offensive behavior by a clique of boorish and puerile  20-something  board members towards me and my programs caused me to leave that club behind for good.  Last year I helped the program director of the MCC, an Arlington club, coach its Walk-To-Run (WTR) training program. 

That was a little tame for me, run/walking four 15-minute miles every Saturday but I actually believe helping other people get off the couch and get moving to any degree out there is a way of giving back.  Those Alpha jerks in my former running club (one of them is now its president) used to sneer that taking groups out and actually running with them was "chaperoned running" but screw them.  As we used to refer to certain types when I was in the State Patrol, they're Adam Henrys.

On Saturday morning I dropped in on the MCC director's current WTR program and took his star pupil, who wanted to push herself, out for four miles on the Mount Vernon Trail at a 2/3 "modality" (walk two minutes, run three minutes) while the director went with the rest of the group at a 4/1 modality.  It took us 62 minutes to go the four miles and twice we had to cut back a little from our three-minute run intervals but it was a fun outing, it was good to be out there moving early on a Saturday morning. 

The program director spoke with me beforehand about being the pace-group leader of the MCC's 10K Program, a true running group, which is firing up in May, and I said I'd consider it.  I'm back! 

I hadn't done those rollers in over a year

I ran with John and H today on the hilly Custis Trail.  We were slated for five miles but an injury brought us up short at 4.2 miles.

It was my best run in a while.  There are two ferocious hills on the trail and I steamed up them like old times while John and H doggedly hung onto me.  I hadn't been on those high rollers since late 2011.

I also ran by many acquaintances I knew from my former running club, of which I used to be president and now no longer have anything to do with, Kevin, Mary Anne, Sasha, Roger and the current president, who as usual pretended he didn't see me.  This last mention is a classic case of See ya Wouldn't want to be ya (when someone finally figures out what he's been up to).

A beautiful day in the greater DC area.  I hope North Korea doesn't rain on our parade anytime soon by obliterating these wonderful trails with its threatened nuclear strike on DC.

Third time's the charm.

‎In November 2009, Brian Danza, the current president of my former running club, the DCRRC, totally disrespected a guest I had brought to a board meeting when I was president, even as Brian along with his posse of three other club IT guys, fellow twenty-somethings (one actually was barely thirty, a rogue club VP and liar who was their personal lapdog) typically and totally disrupted (nay, trashed) my board meeting.  It got so ugly that night that Brian felt compelled to call my friend (but not me) the next day to apologize.

I left the club shortly thereafter over Brian's actions, which included shutting me out of certain parts of the club's website and, in his ad hominen attacks upon me (I think it was a generational thing, or perhaps he's unbalanced, but it was certainly all-consuming on his part), unilaterally editing my president's column to the club.  The personal affronts aside, I could not enlist any board support in undertaking a review of Brian's control over and use of the club's accounts (I had heard stories of allegedly questionable conduct on his part), and since I could not therefore ensure fulfillment of my fiduciary duty as president to the club, I resigned.

Since then, Brian has run right past me and my friend, a running buddy of mine, twice on the trails, passing by within a yard of us each time and pretending not to see us, even when my friend called out a greeting to him.  I have been critical of Brian for his behavior.

Yesterday Brian ran by us again, overtaking us this time in contrast to running past us from the opposite direction, and this time he stopped briefly to say pointedly hello before going on.  My friend said later that Brian acknowledging us finally was to his credit, and that me shaking Brian's hand when he offered it was the right thing for me to do.

I'm Falling

I told the Program Director of the Walk-To-Run Cycle 2 program I'm coaching for that I was going to change my status to "drop-in" coach, showing up as often as needed like last week when the director was busy and I took the trainees out.  Excuse me, the trainee out.  We went four miles on the Mount Vernon Trail past Washington National Airport at a ratio of one minute of running and four minutes of walking.

That was fine but I want to build my base up a little faster than that.  So this morning I ran with my running buddy John, who I ran with all last fall when I built my base up to 9 miles and shed 30 pounds doing so.  (Ten of those pounds have come back in my present slothiness.)

He's about my speed and a little older than me so I can run with him without embarrassing myself.  For an old timer he's fit, but he hasn't been running for awhile, so we started out at three to four miles.  It was good to lope along with him and catch up, even though first I was breathing heavily, then he was.

The omnipresence of Harleys in DC on Memorial Day weekend was evident as dozens, no, hundreds of Rolling Thunder bikes rolled noisily past us constantly for the entire 35 minutes we were out there.  A big congregation of 1200 cc riders stopped to allow us to run across a crosswalk and cheered us on with shouts of encouragement.  They were pleased to see two guys in their sixties out running and we were pleased to see dozens of guys in their sixties and seventies out on their bikes, and we were especially grateful that none of them tipped over on their heavy hogs as they waited for us to pass.

On the backside of the Lincoln Memorial I ran down the steps to the River Road and back up--twice.  John joined me for the secopnd descent and ascent.

It was a beautiful day for the first of our escalating series of Saturday morning runs but some funny stuff happened.  A pretty girl ran by us and we lamented to her that she was faster and fitter than us and she threw over her shoulder as she ran away, "You're older is why." 

We encountered congestion on the Mount Vernon Trail with a bicycle coming up on several runners approaching us the other way and I took to the grass off the footpath to avoid the bicycle but the rider took to the grass too instead of slowing down and kept pointing toward me as I went wider and wider.  He just about ran me down head on.

A heavily accented black runner stopped us and asked which way to the "D.C. Monument."  "The Washington Monument?" I asked.  He nodded so I directed him past the Iwo Jima Statue towards Memorial Bridge and said, "You can't miss it."  He thanked us and took off at rocket speed, albeit running easily.  We theorized he was an elite African runner here sightseeing.  Next he was probably going to run up to Philadelphia to see the Liberty Bell.

I took a full-blown header onto the concrete sidewalk, my first fall running in several years.  Talking with John, somehow I missed a half-inch rise between two cement panels in the sidewalk and struck it head on with my toe and went sprawling.  John said I did a graceful swan dive onto the sidewalk, and I merely skinned my left knee and bruised my palms.

We partook coffee at Starbucks after our three and a half mile run in just under 35 minutes, where we saw some of my acquaintances from my former running club run by on their SLR.  None of them stopped to chat with me, the former president of the club.  I resigned a couple of years ago after being subjected to unbelievable effrontery from the head of the club's IT department and his gang of twenty-something running geeks, boorish jackals all.  That guy is the current president, having barely attained thirty.

It felt great!  Next week we're going to push it out a mile further, running down the most venerated grass strip of all, the National Mall.

The Encounter, Part 3

Running with John last weekend in Rosslyn, I saw the bright future of my old running club. I was president of the club in 2009 before I was forced out in a coup engineered by the head of the IT department along with his hi-tek posse (all grossly disruptive grotesquely disrespectful 20-something board members) in collusion with a diminutive rogue VP.

Last month I saw the past of the club when I ran into the person who succeeded me, lets-call-her-Carol, and had a nice chat with her. The club was in terrific shape when I left and also when Carol ended her term, but I was sad to hear about club races which had recently been cancelled such as its former flagship 20-miler.

Also last month I saw the present when the current president, let's call him Bryan, ran right by me in Arlington. Although he saw me, he rigorously averted his eyes the entire 40 feet it took for him to run past me as I stood on the same sidewalk looking at him (maybe the guy is shy, or afraid). When I was president I had heard comments about his creepiness because allegedly he could track consumers' visits to the website and allegedly he would occasionally ask a female visitor if he could assist her in finding anything.

But Saturday the current Vice President for Training, my old post before I became president, ran by me and stopped to chat. This former coach who I elevated to the board gave me confidence via a warm and animated conversation that the club was undergoing a great revival in its training programs after an unfortunate period of stagnancy under the last training director (the lilliputian rogue former VP who was a total slackard in my opinion). This committed, compassionate and competent current VP represents the club's bright future, and I couldn't be more glad for it. (The club's bright future is on the right, wearing a shirt I designed for the 10-Miler program. Photo credit John.)

The Encounter, Part Two

I was at the post office on Friday when I saw a woman in line ahead of me looking at me. It was Carol, past president of the DC Road Runners Club, whom I hadn't seen since I stepped down as president two autumns ago and she assumed the presidency.

Part of my decision to resign as president back then had been made based upon the fact that she was a capable, grownup person who could take over the club and keep it prospering. A significant part of the board then was very young and in league with a reckless board member who had set out to destroy my presidency for his own advancement and who controlled the club's IT department, the club's Pay Pal account and much of the club's equipment such as its timing system.

This rebellious contingent actively disrupted the board meetings I conducted, changed and removed my president's posts from its traditional place on the club's website, engaged in suspicious transactions and undertook important club business without my knowledge or approval. One of this youthful band of plotters, a dishonest sycophant (he was a vice president so he gave this posse quite a bit of clout) even called me one night and unloaded a profanity-laced tirade upon me, drunkenly telling me that I had "stepped into it" by opposing their actions and assuring me, correctly it turned out, that I would be a one-term president. Shortly thereafter the posted club bylaws on the website changed without notice in a way that greatly weakened my position during this power struggle.

None of the rest of the board was interested in dealing with the ambitious Iago leading this usurping gang and the two adult vice presidents declined to support me when I requested their assistance in looking into and dealing with the activities of this independent brigade. Although it was a great disappointment to me personally, especially after all the tremendous things I had done for the club both as president and over the years as its training director, I shortly thereafter resigned rather than be powerless as president to control these miscreants. It was a volunteer gig, after all.

It is the ultimate irony that the henchman of these ferocious young turks is now club president and the little drunken liar in their pocket was cast aside and is no longer even a board member. All of this unpleasantness dropped away on Friday as I called out a greeting to Carol and she came over to speak with me. We had a delightful chat, catching up on each other and she filled me in on what's new with the club. President to president, you know?

I was gratified to hear that responsible, good people, persons I had largely cultivated on the training side of the club, had been put into important board positions such as treasurer and VP of training. Although I no longer belong to the club, I wish it well.

The Encounter, Part One

I was president of my local running club in 2009, being forced by circumstances to resign when my presidency was deliberately wrecked by a young contingent on the board (all 20-somethings except for one 30-something) that was made up of the IT department of the club plus a sad-sack lackey VP who was in their pocket. These young men, led by the head IT guy whom I'll call Bryan, loathed me personally and disrupted my administration of the club by doing things like unilaterally removing my president's post from its traditional spot on the club's website and conducting important club business without my knowledge or approval.

This posse of four miscreants took to actively disrupting the board meetings I conducted by sitting in a group and noisily acting like muttering, smirking school children in an out-of-control classroom. When they voted and seconded among themselves to "end" my last board meeting before business was concluded, personally affronting a friend of mine whom I was trying to present to the board as the next newsletter editor, the other board members fled the restaurant to escape the contentious scene and I found myself standing confronting Bryan, the henchman of this gang, while his three juvenile friends pressed in behind him in support. My friend interposed and led me away from this tense impasse before it degenerated into fisticuffs, and I tendered my resignation to the non-supportive board the next day and quit the club.

This was a great disappointment in my life because I had worked hard in a volunteer capacity for years to develop the club's training programs and I did some wonderful things in my six month tenure like overseeing its lucrative association with the country's premiere ten-mile race by becoming the race's official training partner. I wasn't able to properly develop my vision for the club of making it more inclusive of runners of all types by developing more programs and activities, but who ever said life was fair? The VP who took over the presidency, whom I'll call Carol, is a grownup and she stepped down this year whereupon Bryan, now barely thirty, fulfilled his consuming ambition by becoming president.

One Saturday morning last month I was standing on a sidewalk in downtown Arlington after a six mile run when the current president of my former club ran by. He was running alongside a woman as he approached and he caught my eye from thirty feet away. Bryan instantly looked away and, only having a woman for support this time around rather than three strapping young men (well, two strapping men, the rogue VP is a pathetic pint-sized little guy), he found something of absorbing interest to look at in the curb on the other side from me until he was past me even as I looked directly at him the entire time. One president passing right by another, you know?

I have heard that Bryan has said slanderous things about me since I stepped down, for instance to the management of the premiere running store in the area. That conversation with Bryan will have to wait for a time when he doesn't run away from me.

A lot to say

I sure had a lot to say about the third day of my recent Bucket Trip down the Dolores River in Utah, when our boat capsized in the rapids. A friend who reads my posts said, "You tend to go on and on."

What, half a dozen or so posts concerning a single minute on (in?) the river is going on too long? Well, maybe.

But since I returned, I have related the story of my minute underneath the overturned boat to a few select friends, and have had the good fortune of receiving in return two excellent commentaries about travails on the river. The first one is from J, a running buddy of mine.

J was tubing on the Snake River many years ago, and because he was much younger and less wise, he wasn't wearing a life jacket. He can't say for sure, but he might have had one or two.

The rushing river took him straight into a large rock, where the current swirled around and around in front of the standing impediment creating a fierce mini-maelstrom. Perhaps you have never truly been on (in?) a river; but I can say from close experience that the incredible power of the water is both unrelenting and unforgiving. It can kill you like that.

The whirling well of water drove J down and he could feel the inner tube he was gripping being torn from his hands. An inner tube has buoyancy and is likely to return to the surface at some point whereas a human body might stay submerged within the center of a deep, rotating pool of water for a long time.

J held on for dear life as he was swallowed up. A few seconds later the inner tube was ejected from the whirlpool and discharged downstream, with J still clinging to it.

To this day J credits his death grip on the inner tube's handles with saving his life. In a subsequent post I'll relate what I learned from a river guide friend of mine.

Incidentally, J was practically the only person who gave me unbridled support after I ascended to the presidency (short lived) of my former running club last year and vicious board infighting broke out. He watched my back when I stood up after my last board meeting and I was, um, closely confronted by four belligerent young alpha male board members who had been disruptive throughout the meeting.

The last year...

I recently had a birthday and observed another year of my life passing by. A decade ago I started running and dropped a lot of weight and changed my life. I stuck with it and thrived, becoming training director for my running club and then president. Great things seemed to be beckoning.

Six months ago I resigned as president after a short tenure due to an inability to get information on suspicious occurrences that centered around the club's IT department and after a series of shocking affronts directed at me personally by the arrogant young turks controlling that department (these alpha 20-somethings disliked me intensely) who were joined by a 30-something lapdog of a VP who was disgruntled with me. These boys were and are in a position of absolute power in the club and were up to no good, in my opinion. They were implacable and insurmountable. Hey, it was a volunteer position, for chrissakes. I am no longer a member of the club and although I wish it well, it needs good luck more than good wishes.

This unpleasantness coincided with an injury that has prevented me from running for the last half year. The weight I kept off for a decade has largely returned. With the aid of a soft "boot type" brace, I have attempted to get back into running, but I can barely run a mile anymore before I feel like I'm going to expire.

It hasn't been a good year, but running teaches you to deal with adversity. Reality is very precise.

Access Denied

I had a cathartic visit this weekend with an old running buddy of mine, Bex, who moved away to California a couple of years ago. I admire her and listen to her counsel closely. She advised me to move on. (Right: Bex at the Lake Tahoe Relay.)

So I am not going to post the long memo I sent last summer to the club's director of training outlining my vision for the club's training program, the one he ignored and actively subverted with the assistance of his buddies. I am not going to relate the details of the profane late-night phone call I received, or how the president's blog was removed from the front page of the club's website, or answer the charge that I engaged in "passive-aggressive attacks on other board members." (It was a novelty to have a man accuse me of being passive-aggressive.)

Contractual information was withheld from me, I couldn't get information about who suddenly published different bylaws on the club's website, and the club veeps I asked declined to assist me in getting the president's blog restored to its traditional spot. They also refused to investigate and report to me on whether there'd been co-mingling with a club account.

My presidential authority having thus been rendered nugatory, this month's board meeting became a debacle when I had four club members openly dissing me practically to the point of a melee. I took full responsibility for the breakdown of the meeting because I was the president. I resigned.

I'll reaffirm a truism--bullies are cowards.

Everyone there made their choices that day. I'm moving on.

We cannot walk alone.

I haven't been running much the last six months, ever since I assumed the presidency of my running club, even before I got injured at Army. (I haven't run since.) Too busy.

However, being a site director for my club's Ten-Miler Program, I did run about ten miles each Saturday with my trainees, and then about ten more the next day in support of the Sunday site director. That was like my guilty pleasure.

But as president, in addition to the public stuff I detailed in the last post that were accomplished on my watch in the last six months, along with writing the club newsletter every eight weeks, there were the hidden every-day occurrences I administered to like attending innumerable meetings with finance committees, race directors, advisory boards, etc., communicating with countless persons in endless phone calls and emails, maintaining club property such as undertaking several trips in the club van to get it fixed after a RD damaged it in an accident, driving around the beltway in my pickup to pick up 15 boxes of racing t-shirts and deliver them early the next morning, going to a race packet pickup site to restore order when no one showed up for over an hour except for five dozen increasingly angry runners, participating in the ATM Expo to answer questions about pacing, safeguarding the runners' bags in the club tent at the MCM finish line during those lonely hours when the club runners were out on the course...well, you get the idea.

And then there was one last meeting earlier today to hand over the reins of power for the last six months of my reign (I just made a series of jokes, BTW) to the club VP of Ops so she could be the adult in the sandbox for the rest of the way.

The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said it best when he said, "We cannot walk alone." He concluded that iconic speech by reciting, "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

That's pretty much how I feel about it.

It was a heck of a ride

Here is the body of work I was responsible for in the six months since I became my running club's president. The club has over a thousand members and over $100K in assets. There were some further things I accomplished, such as negotiating a potential $4.5 K contract to provide training over the winter for up to three hundred registrants for a local national marathon. This agreement replaced the old understanding which paid nothing beyond brand name exposure. But...well...that's for another post.

In the actual club posting this was taken from, real names were used but the following has been slightly edited, mostly for privacy.

Spring 2009: 10K Training Program.

Ten program participants ran in the Capitol Hill Classic 10K target race, with four runners finishing in under an hour and one athlete taking second in her age group and another athlete taking third in her age group. Thanks to the Program Director [Peter] and all the volunteer coaches.

Summer 2009: Ten Mile Training Program which on my watch became the exclusive training partner for the Army Ten-Miler Race. 173 trainees registered, which potentially collected over $12K in revenues for the club, representing a six-fold increase over the program's revenues a year ago. Some Program highlights:

We provided 16 weeks of training at three different sites over two weekend days. Included for participants were three Happy Hours, one picnic, a pre-race dinner, six seminars and a weekly informative email. The Program Director had a speaking role at the ATM Expo, and there was a club Table for our racers at the race finish line.

The race administrators were so impressed with the professional job we provided that it indicated it wants the club back. In a mass emailing, under the heading "[Club Name]/ATM 10 Mile Training," the Army Ten-Miler Race reported that for "the first time ever the ATM used pace groups provided by [Club Name] and they were a success." Thanks have to go to the Program Marketer, the three Site Directors [including Peter], and all the volunteer coaches.

Summer 2009: Marathon Training Program:

About 100 trainees registered for 5 months of training. In addition to coaching, the MTP provided three seminars, social events, and a tent at the MCM Finish Line. Thanks to the Program Directors and all the volunteer coaches.

Fall 2009: Army Ten Miler Race Pace Program.

The Pace Program Director and several other club members [including Peter] led pace groups in the race, and all six led their groups to the finish line within thirty seconds of their goal times.

August 11, 2009 Bart Yasso event.

The club co-hosted, along with Saucony, a Fun Run on the Mall with noted runner Bart Yasso. At the subsequent social gathering in Georgetown, Saucony provided gait analysis while Yasso gave out free autographed copies of his autobiography. The Membership Coordinator set this up.

Other notable club events:

There were four club social gatherings, including a dinner at Generous George’s in Alexandria, two Happy Hours at Gordon Biersch in the District and a Happy Hour at Sette Bello in Arlington. Thanks to two club members for setting these up.

There was an attempt to partner with Channel 9 (WUSA) and Pacers on a charity-event 5K race in Silver Spring last month, which was cancelled in the last week by Channel 9. However, in addition to negotiating complete financial that the television station would cover all the losses, if any, the club got television exposure out of the non-event when a club member was interviewed by the local news during prime time. In addition, the club forged important new relationships with powerful local concerns. Thanks to the VP of Operations [and next club president] for doing so much work in setting up this race.

The club welcomed a new SLR Director, Membership Coordinator, and Volunteer Coordinator.

Awards were presented to the Snowball Series and Bunion Derby winners. These runners mostly ran in the normal complement of club races put on by our hard-working Race Directors and club volunteers. Notable was the complete face lift given to the Larry Noel 12K (formerly 15K) by its RD, and the 25th running of the National Capital 20-Miler and 5-Miler races under the direction of three longtime club members.

The club purchased an AED Defibrillator unit to be on hand for potential emergencies at track workouts and club races. The club provided six volunteer coaches with the opportunity to receive RRCA Coaching Certification training this fall, and negotiated that payment for all such training (including CPR/1st Aid) be paid for by the local national marathon.

Peter

The Club Picnic and Cross Country Race

Earlier this month my club held its annual picnic and three-mile cross country race on the beautiful campus of the Landon Preparatory School in Bethesda, MD. We interface with a Landon math teacher and track coach at the school to set this idyllic afternoon up. The day before, he and the Race Director laid out a 3-mile course across the school grounds and marked it with spray paint on the grass and dirt. This was a good thing because the course twisted through a confusing maze of pine tree stands, across lawns and over athletic fields.

It was a hot afternoon, perfect for a picnic although maybe not perfect for a fast 3-mile run. This race was interesting to me because three former presidents of the club were running in it. A little executive competition as it were, a race within a race.

We lined up and were off. At one moment early in the race, after the runners had separated just a little bit, the four presidents were running in a line, one behind the other. Ed, the president I succeeded, was in front, followed by Bob, the only former president older than me, Susan, the executive who Ed took over for and who was elected into the club hall of fame this year, and myself. Ed and Susan are faster than me, and Bob occasionally beats me. The competitive fire was lit.

Ed soon pulled away, put distance on the little group and we never saw him again. I ran along behind Susan, who recently had twins, biding my time. I really was after Bob, whom I should beat although it's always close.

In an open field I moved up on Susan and ran past her. She fell in behind me. This wasn't necessarily good because it's hard to keep track of runners who are behind you. As we entered a long row of pine trees on the perimeter of the school property I darted by Bob on a little downhill part. Now they were both behind me, so unless I was strong and steadily pulled away, they would stalk me and perhaps strike at the end with a strong finish.

Down service roads we ran, up and down a steep slope behind school service buildings, and by some classrooms. On little out and backs I could see them both behind me, with Susan now ahead of Bob. Finally the last mile was rolling by. I dislike this cross country race because of the giant protruding roots of the trees we ran by. With one wrong step a season of running can be lost. It's tiring to so continuously and carefully watch your footfalls.

I was trying to catch the runner ahead of me but he was too far ahead. However, my effort helped ensure that no one came sprinting by me at the finish, like Susan or Bob. I finished in 25.55 (8:37), 29/58, although the course was closer to 5K than 3 miles. Susan finished in back of me by less than half a minute, with Bob directly behind her. Ed had finished 3 minutes earlier.

Ed and Susan won AG awards, and the RD actually won his own race. This impressed me because I had no idea he was so fast. I could imagine the incredible pressure he must have felt all year as his own race approached and he contemplated trying to win it. Club politics are such that I heard some people sniff that he shouldn't have run in the race he directed, that he should have been standing by for any exigency.

I don't know about that, what do you think? In four months on the job as club president, I have learned that countless judgmental and contemptuous attitudes swirl and flow beneath the outer surface of running clubs. Me, I go along to get along, but perhaps I'm not ambitious enough or enough of a "silent slayer." Maybe that's because I'm not fast enough to ever have contemplated actually winning something when I run.

The picnic of charcoal cooked burgers, veggie burgers, franks, beans and corn on the cob was delicious. Thanks, Landon School, we'll see you next year!