MIchael: The Dream Mile

A curtain of fog
Drapes the coast in a blindfold
Of  misty wishes.

Wednesday, May 23, 2018

An old high school buddy that I use to run track with, and knows I’m going to be racing in one of my old high school events - the mile, sent me the list of our top 10 world age group mile times for last year. It’s both kind of sad and interesting to look at though exactly how sad and interesting I won’t know; even after racing in my mile event in two weeks.

Why?

Because the times he sent me were all run on a track and I’m going to be running on a straight road all down hill. The sad part will be if I can’t even come close to these other old geezers times with a down hill shove.

And even if I do that’ll also be kind of sad, as their times on the track of between 5:05 - 5:20 are pretty pedestrian even for high school sophomores.
And I’m not talking about high school sophomores now. I have no idea what kids are running a mile in these days. I’m talking about when I went to school. It took me probably 2/3 of the track season before I broke 5 minutes. My high school best was 4:42. And I’ve never been timed on a track since, and of the few road miles I’ve done in the last 10 years, I’ve never broken the 5 minute barrier.

Age has crept up on me and no matter how many compliments people give me about not looking my age, the numbers don’t lie. In fact in a couple of weeks they’re going to slap me with the hard truth that I’ll never run under a 5 minute mile ever again.

Michael: Some Things New

 Monday, May 21, 2018

Whenever I race I like to try a few new things. Unfortunately, one of the products I really like and would like to continue using has a big downside.

The two new products I used were Run Gum and Topical Edge. And though I can’t give any objective data to support my belief that they helped me perform better, I do feel they helped and will continue to at least use Topical Edge for the foreseeable future.

Run Gum, a chewing gum with a significant caffeine kick to it, which I really enjoyed using in the latter stages of a 20 mile race may be dropped from my race stash in the future. Though it’s not because I don’t think it’s effective or I don’t enjoy using it. It’s that after throwing a few pieces into the woods I decided to Google what happens to gum when you put it out into the world. And the answer is it stays there forever. So as I use up my remaining packets, I no longer will clutter the woods with it but will wrap it up and dispose of it the trash.

Once their gone I’ll probably switch back to carrying a few caffeine saturated gu’s, or maybe load up a flask with caffeine saturated gu or a concoction of my own making, which would be even a bit more environmentally friendly.

But at least I don’t have the ethical qualms when it comes to Topical Edge; a sodium bicarbonate warm up lotion. I’ve always thought that just going through the motions of applying a race specific warm up gel helped even if it’s effects were mainly psychological. And given the price, it’s going to remain a race day only application.  

Michael: Vanity

Sage’s aroma
Sporadically on the trail
Delights the senses.

Wednesday, May 16, 2018

There are three criteria I use to judge how enjoyable an experience a race was:

1. Does anybody recognize me at the race?
2. How many women beat me?
3. Did anyone older than me beat me?

By these measures my first two races as a 60 year old went reasonably well.

In the Phantom 20 miler a guy I was catching up to kept looking back at me in that peculiar way that had me thinking I should know him. When I caught up to him, he asked me if I was Michael. He mentioned that we had met four years ago at the Verdugo Mountain 10k; a race in which he cleaned my clock. That’s a long memory and if it was tossed at me as a way to psyche me out it had mixed results. Shortly after our brief discussion I fell. But after the 10 mile mark he faded badly. We did have a nice discussion after the race and if we cross paths again, it’ll be nice for us old dudes to at least give some recognition to each other.

Nobody recognized me at the Verdugo 10k the next day.

At the Phantom race no woman beat me. At Verdugo, two women beat me.
In both races no one older than me beat me.

I don’t have a matrix or point value for these questions, or even know there evolution or when the three became ensconced in my methodology when analyzing results. But for whatever goofy reasons, they’re now a part of my racing experience.

MIchael: Doubling Up

Yellow striped black snake
As harmless as a spider
And just as scary.

Tuesday, May 15, 2018

At the beginning of this month I turned 60 and I’m excited about that. For at least the next two years my intention is to race like crazy. This year running whatever races I like, but leaning more toward the under 25k events. Next year I’ll hopefully build off whatever speed I can muster and use the form gains to stretch it out a bit and work up to 100k races.

To start I ran two races back to back on Saturday and Sunday; May 5th and 6th. I ran the Phantom 20 miler on Saturday and the Verdugo Mountain 10k on Sunday. Something old and something new. This is only the second year of the Phantom race and my first year doing it, while I’ve run the Verdugo several times, the last time being 4 years ago. It’s been at least that long since I’ve attempted to do multiple races on the same weekend, but what the hell? Why not see how the 60 year old psyche and body can handle it?

And on reflection, I’d say pretty damned good. I came in 5th in the 20 miler finishing in 3:06 on a very hot day, and though a bit fatigued on Sunday, I managed my pacing well enough to finish 29th out of 800 and first in my age group on the challenging Verdugo course.

To quickly bring myself back down to earth and knock whatever chip or growth is deforming my shoulder, I’ve signed up for the State Street Mile on June 3rd in Santa Barbara. That gives me less than a month to try and build up some speed and at this stage of the game, I just don’t see that happening that quickly. I’d be shocked if I placed, but I’m going to give it the old, and I mean really old, college try.

Michael: The 5 Star Homeless Life

Coyotes howl
As the ambulance sirens
Pass by the park.

Monday, May 14, 2018

For the record, I’m not homeless though I am in a quasi-vagrant state.  I’m splitting my time between living in my wife’s friend’s garden utility shed, the old bedrooms of my nephews, and a night or two in an Airstream at work.

This situation arises from the convergence of the two major dilemmas of life in Southern California; drive time and housing costs. My wife and dog are not working. They’re housed at my sister’s in San Clemente for a reasonable $750. But I work in Malibu and Westlake Village. That’s why I’m renting the shed near Hollywood. The Airstream is a kindness from my employer when I’ve been assigned a short turn around from a late afternoon shift followed by an early morning shift the next day.

Yet none of this bouncing around amuses me as much as my one day shift at a 5 star hotel where I’ve discovered, if I were homeless, I believe I could live quite comfortably for quite some time.

Here are the caveats:

1. The hotel must be large enough to house many diverse programs and personnel.

2. You must be willing to dress in a simple uniform; for example, matching t-shirt and shorts.

If you can meet these criteria simply google or inquire what the hours of the ongoing program of your choosing is at the hotel you‘ve decided upon. Hang around enough to figure out a few key employee entries. Ask simple questions. And enjoy.

With these basics down I’ve eaten at the hotel cafeteria, worked out in the gym, and showered at the very nice spa of the hotel. No one has questioned me at all. I simply stated that I’m new to the program and was wondering where the cafeteria/gym/showers were? And now that I know where these basics are, I just walk with confidence wherever I need to go. Would I ever have the guts to do this if I were truly homeless? I doubt it, but someone out there ought to give it a go. And if you do, please give me the thumbs up when we pass in those dreary employee only tunnels.

Michael: Job Insecurity

A light rain in May

Gray and dismal to our weak

And fragile spirits.

Wednesday, May 2, 2018

After a hectic two weeks of filling in shifts for vacationing staff, I began to feel confident that I was both appreciated and needed. I was hoping the two weeks had served as a proving ground for a promotion to a full time position. You would think that at just days away from being 60 I would know better.

Now that the two vacationing staff members have returned, not only have my hours been cut, I’ve been asked to begin training at another site.

This has left me feeling a similar depression to my early years of teaching when I requested to remain in first grade. I thought I had finally learned the ropes of that grade level and had developed a good camaraderie with my grade team. We were all wrong about that as our principal, who at that time had the authority to move us to where she saw fit; saw fit to move 4 out of 6 of us out of our first grade level positions.

In between the arc of these position transfers, I’ve experienced enough displacement, both involuntary and voluntary, to where I should have realized long ago that no one is irreplaceable. Yet I’m still pouting over it and sadly concerned about what it means for my long term prospects with my present employer.

Michael: The Pro Asked for My Autograph

 Saturday, April 28, 2018

A field of flowers
graces the late spring season
with blooms of color.

Baseball and I have slowly parted ways over the years to the point where if Joe Mauer has retired from the Twins, I wouldn’t be able to name a single current professional player. 

This parting of the ways wasn’t dramatic or triggered by any sudden change in the game or myself. It’s been more like my transition from a love of milk chocolate as a kid to a strong preference for dark chocolate as an adult - just one of those things that I’m sure I could rationalize if need be, but that wouldn’t truly serve as a explanation. 

And it’s definitely not like boxing; where I almost feel ashamed of ever being such a fan. In fact I enjoy my reminiscences with old friends (and my mom - the biggest influence in my life when it comes to my sports education). I even enjoy going to a game if invited although I no longer have any rooted interest in the outcome. 

That’s why this week was such a big treat for me. We had a guest who was a highly regarded former professional player. He was a player after my prime interest in the sport, but familiar enough to where I had a fuzzy idea he was a name I should know if I had remained highly interested in the sport. So I checked in with an old friend who confirmed that I was in the presence of a pretty darned good former player. 

And this guy was a great guy. And in a twist that would’ve had me peeing my pants with joy when I was a kid, he asked to have his picture taken with me and gave me a sizeable tip when he checked out. It was a thrill. Maybe not in the same league as my lost Twins cap with Harmon Killebrew’s and Tony Oliva’s autographs, but I won’t forget this gentleman’s kindness and humble demeanor in an era where too much attention is given to so many people in so many industries who’s only claim to fame is their ability to draw attention to themselves.