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.

How not to ride a bike...

Last weekend was windy, blustery, nasty. In other words, a great day for a bike ride.

Had a nagging wobble somewhere in the drive train, so I dropped both wheels at the local shop for a true job. As in 'truing,' which is biker talk for adjusting tension on the spokes to make the wheel a circle again. The spokes attach the hub to the rim; if you don't have an equal pull on the spokes all the way around, your wheel is more like a square.

I drove back home, then got into my running gear for a trot to the local park and a group workout. On the way there, the blood sugar began to plummet, so I stopped at the bike shop for refueling. No cash, but a credit card on hand, so I paid for the repair work and bought some gels and stuff. Then I kept running to the park, figuring I'd retrieve the bike on the way home.

Arrive at the park. Hmmmmm....no group run. Of course, now it's raining. Canex the run (cancel) and get back to the bike shop.

And now the rain has turned to snow. Sideways snow. Meanwhile, the gel hasn't kicked in, and it's uphill to get home. But I'll take the shortcut through the woods.

Except the dirt trails are kinda muddy, and really soft, and some serious uphills. All of which means I dumped the bike in the slop. Being a committed rider, I have pedals with clips, and I can't get my foot out fast enough.

The dreaded slow-motion descent sideways into mud. Nice.

Next morning, time to resume my gym workouts with a 0545 spinning class. Of course, I have to leave the car at home and ride the bike to the gym.

Now I have a long and gradual downhill. With no cars on the road, I'm flying along.

Did I mention the rain had frozen on the roads overnight?

Black Ice added to high speed added to a traffic circle added to a loss of memory about where my brakes are equals lil' Nicky splattered across the road.

In this battle with asphalt, I lost...

Some nice road rash on left elbow and hip and ankle. I limp to the sidewalk and assess the rest of the equipment. My expensive lighting system doesn't work any more. Turns out the plugs yanked out of the battery pack. No harm, no foul.

So I take my spinning class looking like Rocky Balboa in Round 14. Blood dripping through my sock and all.

Two wipe-outs in two days. It doesn't get much better.

A little side trip Part III

I got in a few workouts in Maui, too...

Lots of beach runs in North Kihei. Our place was across the street from the sand, about 40 yards.

Aside from the aborted Haleakala Volcano Sunrise Run, I had a blast. Incidentally, I found out before the trip that there was a race up the volcano, 38 miles, so I was hoping to be a last-minute substitute on a relay team. Then I was told, 'no, it's not a relay, it's a solo run, and it's entirely self-supported.'

As in, no one handing out water or food or anything. And 38 miles from sea level to the 10,000 foot summit.

Maybe next time.

But I did get some nice pix on the drive down.

Taken from 9,500 feet; that's Kihei and the Pacific Ocean in the distance

One of the more memorable beach runs was a series of sprints followed by a plunge into the waves. Unfortunately, I forgot that it's better to dive under the water than try and stand your ground. Once I scraped myself off the bottom, it felt like I had been punched in the pancreas.

Also took a spin class at a local gym (training for an August Half Ironman). The instructor was a short, squat, native-looking woman with a very thick accent. I had a hard time understanding her over the pounding music. But I did learn the nastiest word in the English Language:

"Le-vel."

As in, 'crank up the resistance a level.' Or two or three. She'd yell "Level" whenever she wanted us to work harder, which was often. Physics dictates that what goes up must come down, but I swear this instructor didn't follow Newton's Laws. It was all up.

I hate her.

And left my favorite running hat at the gym, a stupid little $10 Nike cap that I've had for years. Salt-encrusted, sweat stained, and I was crushed to lose it. Put me into a deep depression for a couple of hours. Then I ran back to the gym at 0600 the next morning and they still had it. :)

As for pleasant island sounds; do you remember a M*A*S*H episode where BJ mentioned a book called "The Rooster Crowed at Midnight?" Kihei is a fairly residential area, and lots of people have roosters to wake them. Except these suckers can't tell time.

Or maybe they can. I heard them every hour it was dark. So much for sunrise.

Almost forgot: there's a new superhero in town. It's a bird...

It's a plane...

It's Lobster Man with the Cycling Tan!!!

Nick's crispy thigh

Only it wasn't from cycling. You can clearly see the Maginot Line at quad midpoint: everything north is courtesy of Big Beach in Maui, everything south (or above?) is Central Oregon.

Four days later, I'm starting to molt.

It's all good.



A little side trip Part I
A little side trip Part II

A little side trip Part II...

We hit a bunch of beaches so Zoe could swim in warm water and maybe do some snorkeling. All that quickly took a back seat to her new pastime.

Question: What do you call one scoop of dry sand followed by two scoops of wet sand?
See below for The Obvious Answer:

Zoe's idea of a Pedicure for Daddy

I received at least one on every beach.

Went to Lahaina for the Banyan Tree, or the Old Abandoned Tree as our 8-year-old called it. I had to correct her and say that it was actually named after Paul Banyan. This thing seems to be growing in about 4 dimensions, and is literally as big as a city block.

Lunch at Mama's Fish House; didn't have the heart to tell Zoe that her college fund was raided to pay for this ridiculously exquisite (and insanely expensive) meal. She helped our cause by ordering the grilled cheese sandwich for a mere $19.

Hiramasa, Salmon, Ahi

Until now, I didn't know that a $14 cup of coffee existed. But a restaurant featuring autographed photos of the Doobie Brothers and Aerosmith can't be all bad.

Met some wonderful folks in the house next door; Greg, Serena, Grace, and Miller were visiting from Tampa. Since Grace and Zoe were the same age, they had a great time together.

As our parting event, we all attended a superb luau on the beach.

But somehow I don't think all our servers were native Hawaiians. Some looked more like New Yorkers.

"You wanna Mai Tai? Fuggehdaboudit."

Time to start saving for the next trip.

A Little Side Trip Part I
A Little Side Trip Part III

A little side trip...

I had forgotten how windy it is here. Final approach felt like a ping pong ball in one of those lottery machines.

Or as Zoe said on final approach, we're 'riding a giant bunny rabbit.' 

Been 20 years since I set foot on Hawaiian soil, and I've never been to Maui until now. The weather is perfect, low 80s  and maybe 60% humidity. Makes me realize how dry it is back home in Oregon.

Kristen had gotten some great advice; if you want to do the drive to Hana, do it early in your trip. The time zone change makes it much easier to wake up sooner when your body hasn't adjusted yet. So off we go.

The trip out is 50 miles or so from Kihei, and the road isn't exactly straight. Something like 600 turns, tons of bridges that can handle only one car at a time, and lots of scenery. If you decide to go, get past the airport by 8:30.  Or else you'll be stuck in a 2,000 car procession with no way to get past.

Hana isn't exactly Los Angeles from a commercialization standpoint. But it's awfully pretty...

 We made a quick stop for a papaya smoothie, then kept going. The Seven Pools are definitely worth seeing.

Ultimate goal for me was finding Charles Lindbergh's grave. He built a house in Kipahulu to get away from the glare of publicity and died there in 1974. Kipahulu is a thousand miles off the beaten path. You don't just drop in.

Amazing thing about his flight to Paris was that he was awake for about 30 hours BEFORE he took off. Then another 33 hours enroute, nearly falling asleep several times, but without the comfort of an in-flight movie.

Later on, the house where his son was kidnapped in Hopewell NJ was about 3 miles from the house I first lived in.

Right now, a gecko is toying with my water bottle. But I digress...

The road coming back from Hana along the southern coast is an interesting one. Didn't know that the rental car agreement forbides passage due to the pavement conditions (and occasional lack of pavement). If you take it slow, like 10mph in spots, it isn't bad. Just long. And desolate in a lunar landscape sort of way.

Next day was the big test: see the sunrise at the 10,000 foot Haleakala summit after running the last 5 miles uphill. Lots of hairpin turns; a native told me that the climb is the steepest prolonged drive anywhere in the world. Maybe so. After waking at 0245, I drove for 80 minutes uphill, parked at the 8,000 foot level and prepared to run; all decked out in foul weather gear, gloves, hat. It's 37 degrees, raining sideways, and the wind is howling at probably 50 mph.

And it's dark. Really dark.

Time for a risk assessment:
1) It's nasty cold and wet and windy. No big deal, I'm prepared for that
2) It's dark, but I have reflective clothing.
3) It's at high altitude. Challenging but not a deterrent
4) Steep drop-offs on the downhill side of the road.  Forgot my parachute.

5) I didn't have any coffee this morning. And now it's 0430 AM. Hmmmm....

Any 3 or 4 of these issues and I'm off to enjoy/endure the run. Throw in #5 and it's a game changer. If something happens up here, my margin of error is paper-thin. So I recalibrated my goal and drove to the summit; now I just want to get down in one piece after sunrise.

Even colder up top. Some idiot is up there in shorts! (note: it wasn't me).

Exceptional sunrise. Do it on a cloudy day: the light gets dispersed in amazing ways. Then the sun just appears.Very cool.

Just don't do the bike tour down the mountain. That's nuts.

A Little Side Trip Part II
A Little Side Trip Part III