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A Love Letter To Running
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Category Archives: Fitness and Triathlon
Enough Money To Pay Twice—Revisiting the Private School Myth
I bought a new bike. This will cause some, like DanDantheRetiredTranspoMan, to go apoplectic. Let me beat him to the punch.
“Another bike?! What was wrong with the one you just bought?! How many do you need? You’re a sad(sick) guy.”
If someone buys a new bike every 20 years, then yes, it may seem like I just bought Blanca. In actuality it was January 2020, so this is season four with her. I confess, that is a short upgrade cycle especially since nothing is wrong with Blanca. She’s still exceptional. The purchase is really some cycling friends’ fault for getting me thinking about a slightly lighter version of her. The whole idea is getting into a better rhythm on long climbs. What’s more important in life than that?
And as to number of bikes, I will be selling Blanca, keeping the quiver to a grand total of two or a fraction of the number most cycling enthusiasts have in their garages.*
You may be thinking maybe I should just train harder, lift more weights, cut back on the Costco Tuxedo cake, but all that requires more discipline and work than wiring Eric in Portland some scratch.
I met Eric at Starbucks in Woodland, WA. Recently, when he got his dream job at Specialized, as the head of their design team, he immediately put in an order for one of their nicest/lightest bikes. Shortly afterwards, he got whacked, which meant he could no longer afford the nice, light bike still in the box. Then he had to find a needle in a haystack. More specifically, someone 6’2″ with some spare change. I turned out to be his needle.
Eric revealed that a part of the problem of being laid off is they have their children in private schools. “How old are they?” I asked. “12 and 15.” When you send your kids to private schools, you’re paying twice—property taxes which fund the neighborhood schools you drive past, and of course, the private school’s tuition. That requires something Eric’s family is currently lacking, a lot of disposable income.
I thought about sending him this post,”The Private School Myth“, from way back in the day, but obviously I don’t know him well enough.
Because I didn’t need to purchase his bike, he may have taken a loss on it even factoring in his work discount. If somehow he finds that post, accepts my premise, and decides with his wife to send his kids to public schools, they’d be on their way to bouncing back. Here’s hoping.
*I really do need a hardtail mountain bike.
Sifan Hassan Is Fine The Way She Is
If you’re ever in a race with Hassan, you better damn well drop her before the final 400 meters. Or you’re toast.
120 mile training weeks in the lead up during Ramadan, meaning no water or food during daylight, is inconceivable.
Her first marathon after dominating on the track. Afterwards, she was asked if she’s the best ever. She said, “No.” The followup, “What do you need to do to be considered the greatest of all time?” Hassan paused, and said, “I don’t need to be the greatest ever, I’m fine the way I am.”
Fireworks on the men’s side too. Kipchoge has a peer. Kelvin Kiptum ran the second half in 59:45 to finish in 2:01:35, 16 seconds off Kipchoge’s world record.
I Run With My Knucklehead Friends
On Saturdays.
This Friday morning, ever-so polite Siri saved all of their text messages until the end of the podcast I was listening to on my solo jaunt. The group text topic was initiated by one knucklehead’s public service announcement about our preferred running shoes being half off at REI. Somehow, very funny accusations of snow-flakery followed.
Brooks Ghost if you were wondering, regularly $140, for a limited time $70 for florescent yellow in certain sizes.
Let’s do the math. Running shoes typically last 500 miles. We run 10 most Saturdays at a cost of $2.80 based on the $140 shoes and $1.40 based on the florescent yellows. For a difference of, drumroll please, $1.40 per Saturday run.
That highlights one of the coolest things about running, its groovy minimalism. Especially compared to cycling. You could buy about 100 pairs of full-priced Brooks Ghost for a carbon race bike with the correct wheels.
I’d have to create a second blog to fully detail all the ways in which my running friends are knuckleheads, but upper-middle class professionals arguing over $1.40 gives you a little flavor flav of their knuckleness.
Of course, in true knucklehead fashion, they’d probably point out that a year from now, since one can earn 5% on cash now, the savings would be $73.50.
What’s The Point of Working Out?
Asks Xochitl Gonzalez. Her answer is excellent.
“Exercise can be an act not of vanity, but of psychological self-care. Many wars are being waged against women—against our bodies, our rights, our sizes, our images of ourselves, and who is and isn’t allowed to claim this identity. For a long time, I felt that by rejecting movement, I was rejecting an idealized and impossible body image, that I was learning “self-acceptance.” But really I was just sabotaging my own mental health.”
As she highlights, those “wars” sometimes apply to men too.
Peak Public Sector—The SLO Swim Center
I’m going to assume a few things. First, you’re unfamiliar with the San Luis Obispo Swim Center. Second, the next time you’re passing through the Central California coast, you’re gonna want to get your swim on at the Center.
I can’t quite explain how infatuated I am with the Center, an outdoor Olympic sized pool that has three generous lap swimming shifts a day, year round. Owned by the city, it single handedly proves the public sector works. Built in 1979, it’s “Exhibit A” of substance over style. The “locker room” doesn’t have lockers, people just leave their post swim accessories—shampoo, soap, shaving cream—splayed on wood benches and on their towels near the showers. It’s the epitome of rustic minimalism. And it works beautifully at keeping all the classist dilettantes away.
Thursday pre-dawn, the Center’s Sinsheimer pool was set up long course meters. I split my lane with another dude. Air temp in the mid-30s, I couldn’t see from one end to the other because of the steam rising from surface. Just like the old days when the mighty Cypress High Centurions water polo team practiced before first period. Saturday noon, I had one of the twenty 25-yard lanes spread across the beautiful behemoth to myself.
The only negative, besides the Pacific Northwest winter weather, was the cashier who charged me the senior rate, $3.75, without any questions. Dammit, I wanted to pay the $4.25.
After Saturday’s swim, I chatted up an eight-year old swimming stud* and then read the Center’s rules and policies while waiting for the GalPal. Allow me to highlight the most important rules and policies to help you avoid an embarrassing infraction.
Proceeding from “fairly easy” to “impossibly hard”.
1st. And I quote, “Guests currently suffering from active diarrhea or who have had diarrhea within the previous 14 days shall not be allowed to enter the pool water.”
2nd. Horseplay, sitting on shoulders, or throwing of guests is not allowed.
3rd. Animals are not allowed to enter the water at any time.
4th. Excessive displays of public affection are not allowed.
The Good Wife struggles mightily with the last. To reduce the odds of an infraction, I purposely pick a lane a safe distance away.
You are welcome.I hope you enjoy your swim(s) half as much I enjoy mine. Long live the Center.
*My new eight-year old friend swims, plays soccer, and baseball. “Yeah, I always make the All-Star team,” he said matter-of-factly, “but I don’t get to play because I have to visit my family in Greece.” “Always?!” What, has he been named to eight All-Star teams in a row?! I spared him a “family privilege” talk.
Hold The Protein Bar
I don’t appreciate this New York Times takedown of protein bars.
The lowlights:
“Manufacturers of these products would have you believe that they can improve your health and your workout. The website for Clif Bar shows people hurling kettlebells or racing through the rain; Gatorade describes its protein bar as ‘scientifically designed for athletes.’ Others seem to brand themselves under the squishy umbrella of wellness. Their marketing features photos and videos of serene women writing in journals, with tips for preventing burnout on the side.
Despite the advertising, though, nutrition experts say that protein bars aren’t all that healthy.
‘You can put ‘keto’ or ‘protein’ on a candy bar and sell it, and people don’t even question it,’ said Janet Chrzan, an adjunct assistant professor of nutritional anthropology at the University of Pennsylvania.”
Can we trust Chrzan, when she’s missing a vowel or two? Prob not, but she’s not the only one with bad news:
“But many protein bars are also full of sugar. A chocolate chip Clif Bar, for example, contains 16 grams of added sugars, more than what’s in a serving of Thin Mints. A Gatorade protein bar in the flavor chocolate chip contains 28 grams of added sugars, twice the amount in a Dunkin’ Donuts chocolate frosted doughnut with sprinkles.
‘By and large, they’re highly processed, high in sugar and salt — kind of a ‘Frankenfood,’’ Dr. Cutting-Jones said. Dr. Rimm agreed: ‘Many protein bars are really just ‘candy bars with a lot more protein,’ he said.”
Has Cutting-Jones ever seen Thin Mints or a frosted doughnut with sprinkles in the back pocket of a cycling jersey after even a few minutes in the saddle.
Sigh. The one thing nutritionists seemingly agree upon is that we should avoid eating any foods that require removing a wrapper. Guess I’ll wait for some team of scientists to figure out how to grow Snickers in the wild.
Postscript: Is it donut or doughnut?
Best Runs of the Year
The New York Times has a great collection of anecdotes from all types of runners on their best runs of 2022. Here’s one:
‘I’m Very Slow. But I Get it Done.’
I’m 63 years old and took up running during the pandemic. I’m very slow. But I get it done: 3.5 miles, three times a week. I was running on the East River Esplanade and enjoying the first crisp day of autumn when I ran by a young man sitting on a bench strumming his guitar. This was probably the third time I’d run past when I heard “Fitness! Hey, FITNESS!” I looked over and he gave me a thumbs-up and shouted, “Looking good!” Women of a certain age tend to disappear, never to be seen. So, being recognized for trying to better myself felt magical.
— H.K. Watts, 63, New York
Molly Seidel—A Case Study For Our Times
Things aren’t always as they appear. Or maybe that saying needs updating. . . things rarely are as they appear.
Case in point, Molly Seidel, Olympic medalist, who is especially ebullient in public.
From Runner’s World, “Molly Seidel Want You to Know That She Still Struggles.”
Another reason to error on the side of kindness.
Come On Reggie!
Man a live, the humble blog goes way back. I searched the archives for “Reggie Miller” to see if I ever shared my Reggie Miller story, and sure enough I did in a 2009 “Friday Fitness Update”. Here it is again.
In my fifth year at UCLA, while working on my MA, I got a job tutoring athletes. After my first session, bossman asked if Reggie Miller showed. I said no so he told me to call him up in the dorms and ask him where he was. “Reggie, this is Ron. . .” “Oh man,” he interrupted, “I thought you were a woman!” I told him there wasn’t much I could do about that and he never showed. Not sure if he passed Western Civ, but he’s done okay for himself.
Fast forward to Reggie’s post NBA life. Miller works as an NBA commentator for TNT and college basketball analyst for CBS Sports. More interestingly, he’s become a serious cyclist, he has an affinity for mountain bikes in particular. Recently, he competed in a 100 mile gravel race in Colorado.
I read a Wall Street Journal article about his turn to cycling and it referenced his Strava account, a personal fitness app that my friends and I use to keep tabs on one another’s athletic doings (and Dan, Dan, The Transpo Man’s lawn mowings). After reading the WSJ article, I put in a “follow” request on Reg’s Strava page and as you can see below, he has yet to accept.
Come on Reg, accept the request! Class of 84′ and 85′ and your former assigned tutor. You ghosted me then, don’t ghost me now.
Once this post goes viral, he’ll have no option but to accept. I will be sure to let you know as soon as Reg and I are Strava friends.
Pressing Pause 