Anti-Media Rant #1

Alan Abrahamson is a T&F blogger for NBC Sports, and he recently penned a diatribe entitled: Track and Field, going nowhere fast in the United States...

  

It's hard for me to take any professional critic seriously when all they do is comment on the alleged shortcomings of others while not pitching in to help the cause themselves. It's oh so easy to say what's wrong without being responsible for actually fixing the problem.

Much of Abramson's agita seems like it's concentrated on his belief that Eugene/Nike/USATF don't do enough to cater to the media!!! He says that we need more cameras on the infield to see the athletes up close. I don't know; I saw cameras literally 2 feet from the pole vaulters at the Pre, right in their faces. Hard to concentrate on clearing the bar when the cameraman won't give you any space.

Abramson also mentioned that he couldn't get a newspaper job in Eugene or Oregon when he left college. Is his entire premise based on sour grapes?

Now he wants a reality show based on sprinters all trying to make the team while living under the same roof? No, no, no. Part of the reason our country has lost stature is that we've become 'way too much sizzle and not enough steak.' I don't want the Kardashians on my track!!!

Then he says we should capture athletes talking smack to each other like in basketball and football. Two reason why I disagree completely:

 #1 see previous paragraph, that's just more of the dumbing down of America.

#2 Shawn Crawford already tried it and got blasted. In the Athens 100m semis, he and Justin Gatlin were side by side and blowing away the field by 60 meters. Shawn turns to Justin and starts talking smack in the middle of the race. Ok, fine. No put downs, no belittling of opponents, just two friends celebrating their success. I loved it. But who didn't love it? The NBC announcer on the telecast who said it was a classless act. That's the same NBC that employs Alan Abrahamson, the writer of the article.

Abrahamson complains about parking in Eugene. Dude, it's a college town. Park at the football stadium and take the (free) shuttle like the rest of the fans. Or bring a bike like I do, and ride to the track from South Eugene High. And is it really that big a deal to bring your own ethernet cable?

No, it's not the Super Bowl in Dallas, where the media complains about the weather because they can't play as much golf as they want. The New York/LA media didn't send anyone to the Pre? Darn. They're too busy watching the NFL and NBA self-immolate; billionaires and millionaires fighting about a couple percentage points. Good riddance.

Yes, USATF has its issues like any large organization. They looked outside the sport when they hired  Doug Logan. So how does USATF deserve derision for lacking 'out of the box thinking?' To have an outsider say that USATF is cursed with myopia and won't try anything new makes no sense.

Track/Eugene/Nike has always been about the athlete, not the media. According to Kenny Moore, Bowerman was on the infield during the '72 Trials when he heard the TV producer over a walkie-talkie telling the cameraman to get on the track and take shots of each 200 m runner so the network could run a commercial. Bowerman stood on the camera cord so the guy couldn't move, and ordered the race to start on schedule.

When we're comparing track to other major sports, consider this: USATF and Major League Baseball were invited to appear before Congress to discuss doping policies. Craig Masback, USATF CEO, arrived with a binder 4" thick, complete with testing protocols, verification requirements, adherence policies, etc...

The baseball lawyer had a 2 page memo.

So, which sport cares more about the sport itself, and which sport cares only about its image? If major league baseball and football had track's drug testing requirements, there would be no major league baseball and football.

And let's talk 'All Star' teams. Baseball, football pick their all-stars via popularity contest. It's not uncommon for players on the disabled list to get selected! USATF picks its Olympic and World Championship teams in a very democratic and straightforward manner: show up and place 1,2, or 3. No ifs, ands, or buts. It's put up or shut up, and 'reputation' or 'experience' don't count. It's who gets to the finish line first. Very clear criteria.

Now that I've got my blood pressure up....

How do I get myself into these things?

Encountered a software problem while signing up for a local race; couldn't get it to work, so I called the race organizer. She figured out the problem, got me in, and then dropped off last year's race visor for my trouble. Cool.

Then she asks if I knew anyone who would want to pace an upcoming race? Basically, run 11 minute miles for a half marathon.

Sure, I'll do it.

BTW, she says, it's a women-only race.

Not a problem. 6 guys and 700 women, that's my kind of odds.

BTW, she says, we want you to dress up. As in sparkly skirts.

Pause.

What the heck.

It looks a lot warmer out there than it really was.

And a Los Angeles woman in my running group took one look and proclaimed me "Laker Girl." I suppose I've been called worse.

Rolling down the highway...

Kinda broke a promise to a buddy today.

Not really, but....

CDH mentioned that he's primed and ready to break spouse BDH's marathon PR of 3:11 and change. Since she ran it over 5 yrs ago and they're both quickly approaching the ripe young age of 33, time is short. He ran a 1:24 half marathon on little training last June; with a concentrated effort, he could probably bust a sub-3.

Sorry, BDH. If he stays healthy, I think he's got you.

Anyhow, C is also a solid cyclist, having dragged my sorry tail up Mt Bachelor many a time,  not to mention Mt. Washington Drive. Short, steep, and a bastard. The hill, not him.

Since we finally got a nice warm day on Friday, I took my rebuilt road bike out for the first time. Up until now, it's been getting a workout on the rollers in the garage. Friday it was about 15 miles around the Butte, including a personal best up Mt Washington. My first time out this year and I'm setting records!

I'll say it again; Nordic skiing is the best cross training. Ever.

C had some knee problems that now seem to be resolved, so I asked if he's ready to bike again. "Sure am," says he. I mention that our triathlon club is putting together a 50-80 mile ride from Wickiup Reservoir up toward Mt. Bachelor. "Slow down," he tells me. "Let's do our 1 hr rides for awhile." Sheepishly I agreed.

Until yesterday, with my volunteer slot at the Pole Pedal Paddle, watching all these people busting butt in the rain. The race didn't fit into my schedule this year, but it got me thinking.

Later that day, I check the weather. What was supposed to be a rainy Sunday was now partly sunny. And I was trying to decide if I should drop six hundred on a lightly used triathlon bike.

Softride Power Wing



Funky looking, all right. The upper beam floats in space, giving a nice measure of shock absorption. Good news for those of us who are missing a couple of lumbar disks. The guy selling it owns Pisano's, a local pizza place. Awesome food, great guy. I make some small adjustments to see if it'll fit ok. He says it's really fast.

Ed let me take the bike on an extended test ride; with a bad back, I need to know if I can handle hours in the aero position. So off I go to the reservoir, with Michelle, Nan, Shellie, Kevin, and Riley, all charter members of the local triathlon club. Pretty soon, we're truckin' up the Cascade Lakes Highway, miles from anywhere. And no cars in sight, just us 6 crazy cyclists.



Just gorgeous out there, isn't it?

Lots of snowpack roadside at higher elevations, too. Michelle is training for her first Half Ironman, Shellie has done a bunch of long races and is monster strong, and Riley, Nan, and Kevin just flew down the road and were out of sight fast.

Incidentally, trying to eat energy gels while riding is a losing proposition. Sticky goo all over the place. Pretty soon, I looked like my daughter sampling the cake on her first birthday.

One big sticky mess...

Soon I hear an ominous rattle, rattle, clunk. Remember when I said I made some tweaks to the bike? Seems I didn't quite tighten everything down.

I couldn't make this up if I tried. The seatclamp was a little loose, and the seat was tilted down in the front. When I leaned forward in the aero position, the net result is a backward push from  my forearms, which means a backward force against the seat. And the whole thing just slid off in mid-flight.

I can exaggerate a lot of things, but not this. Fortunately, I brought every wrench in my arsenal. Problem resolved in minutes.

Then I remember that Ed had told me that the bike is fast.

How fast?

I answered my own question today; it's stoopid fast. We're talkin' filthy.

Ed put a ridiculous 64-tooth platter-sized chainring on the bike; just insane. Most bikes have a 53 or so. 64 teeth need a lot of torque to spin; the gears help you go fast, of course, and the bike frame itself has the aerodynamic footprint of an F-14. Very slippery, and less effort needed, so it's awfully fun on the flats and downhills. Ed has hit 57 mph on this sucker.

Did I mention we were riding toward Mt. Bachelor?

Going up was ok, long and gradual. Coming back was pure nuts. Heart rate about 10 beats per minute lower than on the same course last year, and much higher speed. 56 miles total; sorry, CDH, couldn't help myself. And my grand total for the year is 71, with those two rides in three days.

I already knew the motor was better than in 2010, and now the equipment is, too.

Game, set, match; I'm buying the bike. Thanks, Ed.

Now I'm really looking forward to racing season.

2011 Eugene Half Marathon

Third time's a charm?

Or three strikes, you're out?

I love this race, now three yeas in a row. Eugene is such a great place to run, superb organization, great logistics, insanely motivated volunteers. And a (mostly) flat course.

Got a late start this year; my daughter had a concert on Saturday afternoon and did her dance recital debut to "The Bear Necessities." Not exactly Swan Lake, but you gotta start somewhere.

So I didn't leave home until after 5pm, and the pre-race packet pickup (t-shirt, number, other swag) ended at 6pm. I'm fast, but I'm not doing 130 miles in 45 minutes without Mr. Boeing. But this time, we could pay a couple of bucks and pick up the swag at 0515 Sunday morning before the race. Deal.

None of this would have worked without the generosity of fellow track umpire Dr. Nate, who graciously allowed me to camp at his house. Nice to have a place 10 blocks from Hayward Field. Much appreciated, Nate. I arrive at 8pm, stretch a bit, then crash.

Then wake at 0100. Ugh. 2 hrs later, I finally fall asleep again, just in time to hit REM status prior to my planned 0400 wakeup. Wasn't nerves, upset stomach, or anything. Just couldn't convince the bod to slow down. At least I brought the French press and espresso blend.

Factoid: it's not the night before that's important. It's the night before the night before. Anyone can gut out a race (or a workday) on a lousy night's sleep.

Pre-race was chilly, maybe 40 degrees and perfectly clear. It'll warm up soon enough.

Plan of the Day: start ssssslllllloooooowwww for 5 miles, then do a brisk 8 mile tempo run. I have no more than 30 miles in my legs this year, a ridiculously low amount going into a half marathon. And only 7 of those miles were in one shot, hence my caution. Way too early in the year to destroy myself, and as much as I love Eugene, I'm not willing to risk injury so soon.

Basically, I'm writing off this race and hoping just to get a good workout. In the week or so prior, my knee had been making very slight noises. Nothing huge, didn't hurt, more a signal than anything else. But I told myself that I can drop out without repercussion at any time, and the course goes close to Nate's house: I'll walk in if need be.

First 5 miles, really casual. Not breathing hard at all. Top of the hill at the turnaround, time to start working. Pace comes down, heart rate comes up. Get comfortable. Make the turn at South Eugene High and see the 19th Street Hill. Don't maintain pace and blow up; instead, slow down and maintain effort. That advice was courtesy of Max King, world champion trail runner and near-Olympic steeplechaser.

Max knows what he's talking about: it works. Coming down the hill, I pick up the pace while recovering. Past Hayward, 4 miles to go. Now it's going to get tough.

Spectator to foreign-born goalie: "Were you in pain?"
French goalie: "No, it hurt like hell."
(from the movie "Slapshot")

It hurt just enough to make it interesting, and about an inch short of making me wish I liked checkers or crossword puzzles. Use the arms, keep the hands loose, drive. Into the last mile, it's almost done. Now the track is in view, so it's time to pull back for a few hundred yards and let the nitwit collect his wits.

Then it's onto the track and time for the explosion, like last year. Hayward Field demands nothing less than a smoking finish. I don't know what it is about that track, but it makes me go.

Remember I said this was a training run? Sure was. Except it was also 4 minutes faster than I've ever run the distance before.

Things I did right:

1. Started slow
2. Recategorized the race from a 'must-have' to a 'nice to have' and gave myself permission to bail out if needed.
3. Absolutely nailed my splits once I picked it up; except for the hill, those last 8 miles were within 10 seconds of each other
4. Post-race: went to the medical tent and iced my knee just in case
5. Got a massage next day
6. Traded winter running for Nordic skiing and built big cardio while adding zero orthopedic damage
7. Blew off the pre-race festivities in order to catch Zoe's dance moves.

Things I did wrong:

1. Thought I grabbed my Body Glide (anti-chafe gel) and instead applied liquid Right Guard to my inner thighs. Didn't chafe, and my legs didn't stink, either.
2. Nothing else comes to mind

That was one good weekend.

Official Officiating

Track Season is here (finally).

The tough part is that it means many trips o'er the mountain to reach Hayward Field at the University of Oregon in Eugene. I told my wife that when we hit the numbers, I'll be renting a house there every year from April through July. This house will be within walking distance to the track. Until then, it's a full tank of gas and long podcasts on the car stereo.

The great part about track season is that my fellow officials and I get an unobstructed view of the events. Plus, we get to act important. And for free!


Yes, my eyes are open



Don and Betty, world class umpires

Always in a good mood (as long as it's not raining...)

Highlights so far:

Yesterday at the Oregon Relays (all levels of competition), a high school boy in the 1500m ran his last lap in 56 seconds while breaking 4 minutes. Huge wheels on that kid.

Boise-based Eagle High School had a good team in the competition. A coach and runners from that team were standing right behind me with two of their boys struggling in a distance race. I told them it's because they weren't getting enough love from the crowd. So the contingent roared on the last lap, and both kids kicked it home. It works!

Then the Eagle boys' team flew to a convincing victory in the 4x400 relay. Nice way to finish the meet.

During the high school girls 400m race, I had to disqualify a heat winner. She was parked on top of the inside lane line for at least 6 steps. High schoolers are DQ'd after the third step on the line. Sorry, kiddo, but rules are rules.

Big, big kudos to the catering company that provides meals for hungry officials. Incredible cheeseburgers! Last time, they even had sauteed mushrooms. A full belly makes for a happy official.

On the homestretch during a break in the competition, I had a nice conversation with a 20-something spectator (if you're not a track nut, you might not follow this):

Him: "Which university is OTC?"

Me: "It's Oklahoma Theological College."

He nodded wisely, but still looked a bit confused.

Me: "You haven't been in Eugene for very long, have you?"

A shake of his head.

Me again: "Ever heard of Athletics West? OTC is the modern day version."

Him: "Huh?"

Me: "Never mind."

Sigh.

For the unfamiliar, OTC is the Oregon Track Club, where some of the country's best runners train after college. OTC is like mom and apple pie out here.

One of my new habits is to run a few warm-up laps on the track before each meet starts. For me, this is kind of like paying homage to the running gods. Two weeks ago, I was trotting along when I noticed some tall guy doing same. Turns out it was 2008 Olympian Andrew Wheating. I crank it up a notch; pretty soon, he's off the back and nowhere to be seen.

Disclaimer: I was approaching cardiac arrest, while he showed zero signs of exertion. And he probably left the track out of sheer boredom. Doesn't matter: I'll take it.

On Saturday, I set off to to run about 2 miles with some sprints. After a couple of laps, some official at the finish line yells at me: "No warming up here. You need to use the practice track!"

Come on, man. I'm in the outside lane, the one that gets no traffic. And it's an hour before the meet starts. Grumbling, I end my run and walk back. Suddenly, I realize what just happened.

With my Nike garb, I looked like a real runner. And my form has always been fairly economical, so I sort-of look like I belong out there. And I was going slow and easy, like I was preparing to do battle.

Then it dawned on me...

This guy thought I was a collegiate or pro athlete. 

Never stopped smiling, as I will be doing this Tuesday on my 46th birthday.  

2011 Goals (revised)

No, I'm not cheating by changing a few things.

This isn't like filling out your NCAA basketball bracket halfway thru the tournament.

I'm actually ratcheting my expectations upward.

I had originally listed a 4 hr marathon among my goals for the year. Last year's party was not exactly what I had in mind, even though it was my first one, and at age 45.

In looking at the calendar, my target race for the year is the Lake Stevens Half Ironman in mid-August. Two weeks later, it's the Hood to Coast Relay. If last year's tri is any indication, I'll be toast for at least a month. That would give me a couple of weeks max to properly train for the Portland Marathon, or maybe 6 weeks before the Seattle Marathon. Given the better condition I'm already in, I'd no doubt improve over last year, but I don't want to go 26.2 without a solid training season behind me.

So I got to thinking...

Runner's World recently had an article about a guy who followed the Hanson Brothers' training plan to great results (that's the running Hansons, not these guys).

Paraphrasing the RW article, their plan is all about adding strength by what they call 'cumulative fatigue.' The interesting part is that their longest prescribed run is 16 miles, not the 20 miler that most coaches recommend. The Hanson theory is that the proper cumulative work basically pre-loads your legs into thinking that the 16 mile run is even farther. So you're not training for the first 16 miles;  you're training for the last 16. And you don't have the extra pounding of a 20 miler.

Ok, guys, I'm in.

New goal; forgo the fall marathon. Recover in September, spend October thru December building mileage, then do the Hanson plan in preparation for the 29 April 2012 (estimated) Eugene Marathon.

And (gulp) qualify for Boston.

Oh, s*&#%, I said it.

What the hell. Aim high. I'll need a 3:25, pace of 7:51 per mile. That will be an hour faster than last time; my legs hurt just writing this.

Tomorrow, I've got a 10k race that will tell me where I am.

Onward.

Oh, the things people do on vacation (lit fog???)...

Received a great email from an aunt; you know, the one who is younger than me! Casey married my wife's uncle and is an awesome lady. We had a blast at a cousin's wedding recepton awhile back, when Casey dared me to run the several hundred steps from the Seattle waterfront to Pike Place Market. Fun to do at 0600 in February while trying to dispose of a wedding reception hangover.

That run was surreal. Foggy, cool, misty. I'm running near the ferry docks when I hear a rumble-like growl coming out of the mist and getting louder. Alligator? Got a bit tense before I realized it was a man sleeping on a park bench and snoring loudly.

Casey mentioned a vacation they took to Maui. After reading my account, she shared hers. Narrative follows:

Hana: Crazy drive. Cool that you came back the other side. You know Doug, he had that rental contract memorized and no chances were to be taken. So we came back the way we went in. We actually swam in those 7 pools, which I later found out had pig waste runoff from the fields above the waterfalls. Uh, not so nice. I prefer not to think too much about it. I console myself with the fact that I'm still alive 20 years later and hopefully nothing really got stuck in me. Gag.

Haleakala (the 10,000 foot volcano/tourist trap): You are a nut!!!! I enjoy being able to say we're related, though, when I talk about your exercise regimes. :-) I am willing to live vicariously through your lunacy. Ok, so picture this: Maxx (oldest son) broke his leg just before the trip, so among many plans for that trip, our plan for all 4 of us to go to Haleakala was over. It was just me and Sam (youngest) that morning, Doug had no interest really in doing it a 2nd time (we did it on our honeymoon, the whole ride the bikes down the hill thing).

Sam and I arrived at the tour company, and realized we had forgotten our warm clothing! It was all safe and sound, folded up back at the condo, and the company we were riding up with didn't have anything warm.  So Sam and I went up in just regular shirts. Then, it was completely 100% overcast. So we waited for FOREVER, in the MOST BORING PLACE, to see LIT FOG. (those were Sam's words.) I kept telling him it would get better, but it really didn't.

Next came the bike ride down. Because of course Doug and I had such a great time 20 years ago, we wanted to share that with the kids. It's a few hours leisurely bike ride down, a breakfast stop at a little restaurant on the way, and then lunch in ... Paia? (That fish house on the corner of that main street was delicious! We ate there with the boys another day.) We got on the bikes, mine wasn't too comfortable, but Sam was already pedaling ahead and I couldn't get his attention. The company planned a pit stop ahead for everyone to double check their bikes and get a group photo so I figured I'd work it out there. Ummm, that was pretty much the last time I saw Sam until we got to the bottom.

I am not kidding~ Every turn I expected to see him splayed over the guard rails, but he was never in sight. Not once. Luckily he is my son, and we BOTH took the SAME wrong turn. Just as I was about to turn around after realizing I'd gone the wrong way (talk about silently freaking out! lol), I heard, "Mom!" Oh my god, I was never more glad to see someone - not only because I was so glad he was safe, but because I had no idea where in the hell we were! I was still riding that awkward bike, it was so painful and wobbly. I laugh a little hysterically still every time I think about it.) Thankfully someone in a van stopped and gave us a ride. (It was no time to care about killers and kidnappers, these were desperate hours man, 8 a.m., in Maui, on a bike, the stuff nightmares are made of!)

I think it was a guy who used to work at the bike shop, and I think he said something about knowing when he saw people on bikes on that road that they'd gotten lost. He drove us back to the road we needed and dropped us off to finish the route. I was wishing he'd just take us all the way. After all that, we STILL were the first back, back in Paia at EIGHT THIRTY AM, and I swear I had never been so scared and exhausted (and just a tad irritated ;-)) in all my life. Nothing was open yet to eat, so we just drove back to the condo (an hour drive or so I think). God, what a trip. I think they called us Mashers, people who ride straight down without stopping. No pictures, no time together looking at the view, no chit-chat, nothing. Sheer terror. In hindsight, I am so thankful Maxx couldn't go. I think it would have been way worse. Sam thought the ride totally made up for the sunrise! Of course he did.

Me again: Don't you feel bad for the schmucks who go on vacation and absolutely nothing goes wrong? How boring is that? Incidentally, all names have been unchanged in order to indict the guilty. And I put this posting into the "Stoopidity" category merely to reflect the stoopid things that happen.