Friday, June 29, 2007

The Dreaded Track

I am not sure why I do it, but I have forced myself, on occassion, to run to the track and do a little bit of so-called interval training. Yesterday happened to be one of those days. I usually plan these workouts early in the week so that I will have at least partly fresh legs. So this week I decided I would try the intervals again on Thursday after work. So the funny thing is all day yesterday I dreaded going to the track. I don't think it is just the pain of running hard that scares the wits out of me. It is that damn watch. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know that as I age I am losing speed and the track is where it will become glaringly obvious. An additional second on each lap portends the inevitable decline. Sometimes I think, I'd rather not know that I am becoming slower. It is not that I was fast in the first place, but at least for me, losing something I once had is so terribly bittersweet.

Anyway, I couldn't quite come up with a good enough excuse to miss the workout yesterday. So I jogged over to the track and decided to stick to the planned minimum workout 3 x 1600 meters with 3 minutes rest in between. I know this workout is not really the correct one for my training goals, but it has become the standby, at least until I feel like I am in shape.

The first 1600 was terrible. With each lap I was slowing down and by the end I came in at 6:04, feeling like I was totally spent. I know that just a couple weeks ago I did the same workout and was able to do all my intervals under 6:01 with the first one being at 6:01. Why is it that the first one is always the hardest and the slowest? I reminded myself that usually this is the case, the second is usually a little smoother and easier. So the second went by at 5:58 and that was with the headphones on. Then I did the third in 5:56 knowing full well that I would not do a fourth. On occassion I have done 4 and am certain that I need to be doing 5, but the mind was not ready to push that hard.

I ran home feeling like I had accomplished something but a little worried that two weeks ago I finished with a 5:51. There go those seconds. Oh well, I am betting a few seconds aren't going to make much difference in my next 50 mile race!

Friday, June 15, 2007

"No Respect. I don't get no respect!"

Usually I don't like to speak using double negatives. Note that the title, taken from Rodney Dangerfield, does not make any sense unless he is trying to say he actually gets respect! But in this case it is truly appropriate for my story.

So yesterday I was biking home from work like usual, riding the same route I ride on average 3 or 4 times a week, when a car pulls up in the right turn lane on my right side, at a stoplight. After a few seconds I realize that the older woman in the car is trying to get my attention. She rolled down her window, then gave a thumbs up and stated matter-of-factly 'I really admire what you do.' I was blown away and a little confused at first, I guess because I didn't realize what she meant by what I do (I do alot of things). I have to assume that she meant she admired my bike commuting. I gave a thumbs up back and took off as the light turned green. As I rode away my irrepressible ego started inflating to ginormous dimensions which definately helped me get up the next 1/2 mile long hill! Then nearing the top of the long steady grind, I was just biking along in my little bike lane when I noticed a piece of garbage wing by right in front of me. It was no coincidence that I was riding by three teenagers with asses hanging out of their pants and hair covering their ears when the flying projectile just missed me and my bike. In this case I instinctively knew that one of those little $*!ts had purposefully tried to hit me with a plastic piece of garbage. In fact, as I passed them at about 15 mph I recognized a little smirk starting to grow on one of their faces. Without even a second thought or a look back I dropped my right arm and gave them an upside down one-fingered salute. By now my ego had deflated but I rode home confident that I had had the last word, so to speak, and happy that I hadn't been hit by the missile.

I find the most interesting aspect of this story to be the fact that I was absolutely confused and didn't know what to say when I got some respect. But when I was disrespected I didn't even have to think in order to respond, in kind. Maybe I have been riding on the roads too much, or living in the city for too long!!

Monday, June 11, 2007

Turn Me Over - I'm Overdone

Today I woke up feeling every single day of my 34 years and then some. It is unusual for me to still feel tired when I wake up, even if I get up really early. So I'm starting to think I may have done a little too much running last weekend! But it was well worth it because I had fun!!

I started out by running about 16 or 17 miles on the roads, circling Mercer Island on Saturday morning. Then I quickly downed some food and went on a short 5 mile hike with a Mountaineers group. On Sunday I met some Seattle Running Club folks at Tiger Mtn and ran one Fat Ass loop. When we were done with that I re-loaded my water bottle and went out for some more by myself. I think I ended up with somewhere over 29 trail miles on Sunday.

I admit, I was not so sure that heading back up into the hills after the first loop was such a great idea. But then I saw a bear as I ran up the gravel road. This was the first bear I have ever seen on Tiger Mtn. and it made my day. I kinda felt sorry for the bear though because he/she was just trying to cross the gravel access road. The problem was that the regular weekend hordes of Tiger Mtn. hikers (and me, of course) were tramping up the road due to the current parking lot construction. The bear saw me and the large groups right behind me and headed back into the bushes, never making it across the road. Now Yogi was stuck between the busy I-90 freeway and the busy hiking road. I wonder how he/she came from the direction of the freeway in the first place. Maybe there is a wildlife underpass?

I'm sure the bear found a way to get where he/she wanted to go eventually, but it got me wondering . . . why do so many people go to the High Point exit for Tiger Mtn. every weekend? And why do they all just tramp up and down the most uninspiring and boring trail on the entire mountain (the trail to W. Tiger 3) when there is so much more beauty and nature in this 13,000 acre park? I know that part of the answer is that the High Point exit is the most convenient and easy access to the mountain and that W. Tiger 3 promises a peak experience and decent uphill training. It just seems so unfortunate that virtually all park visitors are so concentrated due in large part to the configuration of the trails and trailheads. What would happen if there were trailhead access points (with parking) in other places like downtown Issaquah, Issaquah-Hobart Rd, and further east on I-90? I know that there already are a couple of other access points but the parking sucks at these places and there are no facilities.

I don't have any real answers to the crowded conditions . . . but it might help if the following occurred:

1. People started hiking/running further into the park and gave up on going straight up W. Tiger 3. Go for an adventure! It looks like they are currently re-grading W. Tiger 3 into a highway. Sounds like it will soon be even less appealing than it is now!

2. People drove a little further to USFS trailheads. It wouldn't hurt if the USFS gave up on the mismanaged and unconstitional fee program so people can afford to take a walk in THEIR national forests.