After ten year’s of relative sloth, I reentered the world of (somewhat) competitive running. I was the 37th fastest over 40 year-old in a local 10k. Despite the fact that I ran more than 10 minutes slower than my best 10k, I was thrilled. I can still run 90 seconds faster than my first 10k race, back when I was in the 7th grade. Oh, how I can revel in the smallest of victories more as I age!
When the new year started I had high hopes of running much faster. After all, there were still nearly three months to make up for 10 years of less activity than is required to call oneself a runner. My plan was to run twice a week in January, three times a week in February, and every other day starting March first. January went as planned. February started out better than expected but it was a dark and stormy night when I went off course, so to speak. Determined not to let a little 33 degrees fahrenheit and freezing rain on a dark night keep me from a run, I ventured out to pound the pavement. Usually, I am very against pounding the pavement because it makes my body ache. My regular course had been loops around the outside of the local sports fields. Many people would find it boring but I love doing the same loop over and over. I find some joy in knowing a course in great detail. It frees me up to refine other elements of my running: form, breathing, mental focus, smiling for photographers, etc..
With the rain falling hard the sports fields were a muddy soup so I ran loops on the paved road that encircles the fields. I was feeling fast and spry so when on one of my final loops I felt a little ache and tightness in my leg from the cold and damp and pace but I didn’t pay it much attention. My right calf was a little sore the next day but nothing to raise any red flags, just a yellow one. The next day I headed out to run and should have quit five minutes in but I didn’t and ended up limping home. That lead to two weeks of no running followed by a slow build up back to actual training. Day one I ran 2 minutes, day three 5 minutes and built slowly over 10 days until I was up to 30 minutes. March was a loss as far as training went. I don’t know what happened but when I looked at my running log I had only run twice in March!
Thus came the race. Turns out that it was a dark and stormy morning and I wondered if that was a bad omen. I decided not to worry about it and just enjoy my race. I was prepared to accept a fate of 50 minutes without complaint. Things went much better. I jogged the first 5k, afraid to re-injure my calf. Over race’s final 5k I gradually picked up the pace until I felt my my old runner self the last mile or so. No significant problems to report until the last 50 meters of the race. The final 400 meters was one a soupy wet dirt field (just like the one I avoided that dark and stormy night). I made a mental not to not push too hard on the unstable ground. Sometime during the next 45 seconds I forgot that I had made that mental note. When I geared up for the final stretch, I could see two other 40+ year old runners dueling up a head of me. Some competitive fire sparked to life when I saw them giving their all and I kicked it into my highest gear and gave chase. I was closing in on them fast when three very strange sensations rumbled from deep inside my right calf. It was pain but it wasn’t unbearable. It was like something just let go. The odd and problematic thing was that I couldn’t get my right calf muscles to work any more. That sent my brain reeling for a solution as to how I was going to remain upright. Fortunately, my brain took care of that and there was no foreigner face planting in the mud for the crowd to remember and tell their friends. Gingerly, I jogged into the finish. I felt pretty satisfied. When I looked at my watch and saw that I had run 43:13 the pain went away. The pain is back now but I can engage my lower leg muscles again so there seems to be no permanent damage. I am being careful, though. In fact, my leg is wrapped tight in an ACE bandage as I write this just to make sure that I don’t make things worse if I jump up too fast celebrating the completion of an especially great sentence.
Be well!
-The Green Tea Dreamer
green tea dreamer project 
….it’s the guy behind you that makes the photograph…
There is no question that he laid it all on the line more than I did. In my experience, it is important to show your suffering in Japanese athletics. He was the clear winner on that front. To the contrary, I come from the mindset that you don’t want the competition to know how bad you are hurting. The first year that I was on my town’s running team in Japan (a decade ago) my coach was always on my case about loafing in races. I assure you that I was not loafing. I just preferred not to show my agony to the competition. After that first year my Japanese improved enough to kind of explain my philosophy. By the time I left he had embraced the concept and was encouraging his other athletes to not outwardly show their pain and unnecessarily inspire the competition.
Not a bad performance at all. I especially enjoyed the getting inside the head of the runner-the insecurities, the zen let’s do what I can do and not worry about the rest, and the occasional flashes of that old competitive Kurt. An enjoyable read. How’s running and life been lately, is spring weather there yet?
Next up, at the end of the month, is a 100 meter leg of the relay at the town Sport’s Day. We over the age of 40 get the short leg with the most potential for injury. I think that’s on purpose…people love so see the agony of defeat and, in a pinch, will settle for the anticipation of disaster. The weather is as good as it is going to get here. Meaning that it is perfect! Mostly sunny, not hot, and not humid yet. I’m enjoying it every chance I get. Spring has definitely come and those in the know say the rainy season is on the way…but it’s not here yet.