exercise

A few weeks ago I wrote about how annoying it is to get an “affirmation cookie” instead of one with an actual fortune. Well at lunch today one of my co-workers got what we thought was a horribly rude fortune cookie. Instead of the usual mindless drivel, instead of even a useless affirmation, the “directive” cookie he received at California Wok read, “Work on improving your exercise routine.” Ouch.

On Sunday I ran the XXIII^rd Los Angeles Marathon. My goal was to beat my time from last year, when I ran it in about four hours and forty-five minutes. Unfortunately I was felled by a wicked flu bug about two weeks ago which knocked me on my ass for a while. I didn’t start training until the end of January and taking a forced ten-day break right before the race didn’t help. I managed to murderize the 26.2 miles in 5:40, about an hour worse than last year (but about ten minutes better than two years ago). I swore that this would be my last one, but I can’t live with that time, so it looks like I’ll be back for 2009 …

When I ran the LA Marathon last year my goal was to finish in five hours. I had trained for about two months and gotten down to a slender 186 lbs, the least I’ve weighed since my last year of college. Because of a disastrous combination of being mentally unprepared for the event and wearing year-old sneakers, at some point around mile 22 my left knee made a sickening pop. By mile 24 my right knee had joined its brother and I was in excruciating pain. I (literally) limped across the finish line and recorded a disheartening time of 5:46.

This year I decided to run about two weeks ago. I trained my out-of-shape, 200 lb, 33-yr old body for ten days. I figured that I had little chance of doing anything great, but I just wanted to (a) finish the race and (b) beat last year’s time. It was grueling and painful, I got a huge blister on the instep of my left foot, and I thought more than once that I was going to face-plant into the asphalt. But I was much better prepared mentally this time. The miles blazed below me and when I crossed the finish line I was struck dumb by the time: 4 hours, 56 minutes.

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There is a point on San Vicente while running West when one rounds a corner and is confronted with — shockingly — what appears to be the entire Pacific Ocean. It is an awe-inspiring sight, even at night. It is at this point, during what is more or less a fifteen mile run, that I usually realize I’ve forgotten to do something to protect my nipples. Aside from the Marathon, this route is the longest I’ve ever run. On little three- and six-mile runs I don’t need to do anything about my chest. On a fifteen mile run, though, thousands of thumping strides will cause a man’s t-shirt to chafe and rub against his nipples until they bleed. The adrenaline and runner’s high will prevent you from realizing how much damage you’ve done to your vestigial mammary glands until you finally arrive home and toss your sweat-drenched clothes into a heap in the bathroom floor. The blisters on your feet, the near-unbearable soreness of your legs and lower back and even arms, the inevitable lingering desire for water … none of these things the next day can compare to the burning pain of having basically rubbed off your nipples. File under: Ouch.

I really like my gym, LA Fitness. It’s inexpensive, it has lots of great amenities, and there are enough of them scattered around Los Angeles that I never have to travel very far to find one. I have a laundry list of complaints about the place, of course: one of the ergs is almost always broken, the hinges on the doors of the lockers are constantly malfunctioning, the sauna seems to be out of order every few days, stuff like that. But in general I like the place.

One of the things that keeps me motivated while I’m there is the music. It’s some sort of cable system, like “LA Fitness Radio”. There weren’t any commercials until a few months ago, and even now it’s just a short promo for the gym about once an hour. (This makes little sense to me. I’m already a member! Why are you trying to convince me of how great the place is?) They play seriously great music. The last time I was there I heard “Panama” by Van Halen, for example. Sure, they play a ton of Top 40 bubble-gum garbage, but it’s nothing obnoxiously bad. And they somehow manage to squeeze lots and lots of deep cuts into the mix.

A few days ago I heard “Get Off This” by Cracker. The album Kerosene Hat had one hit — “Low” — and, as far as I know, I am the only person on Earth that actually bought the CD. It’s one of my all-time favorites. (The entire CD is great, by the way. If you don’t have it, go buy it.) Hearing a track like that while lifting weights was quite a surprise and, like I said, one of the reasons I dig LA Fitness.

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For at least a year or two I’ve been waiting for someone to build a web service I could use to map running routes. This morning I drove to my buddy’s house at 6 and we went on a long run around Beverly Hills. With less than three weeks until the LA Marathon, it’s time to get serious about hitting the pavement. It took us about an hour and ten minutes, but — once again — I had no reliable way to determine the distance other than driving the route and watching my odometer. This is simply not practical in Los Angeles; at 7:30 in the morning there is so much traffic it would have taken me another hour of driving to do that. When I got to the office I figured I’d try searching for a Google Maps mashup. With the Nike iPod for runners and all the other cool mashups I’ve seen for everything else lately, I figured there must be one for running by now.

And there are two! At USATF (USA Track & Field) some brilliant souls have built a perfect route-mapping tool. We ran 6.72 mi (10.81km) this morning. How awesome! And now I can map the other five or six routes we take all the time to see how far I’ve really been going. Awesome. (There’s also one by Nike, but it’s not as cool.)

Somewhere between Mile 22 and Mile 23 my body decided that it had had quite enough of my shenanigans. I truly do not know where I found the mental effort it took to convince my knees that they were not in excruciating pain. But I did. After a three-minute tug-of-war with my muscles won — incrediby — by my mind, I was able to resume my by-then plodding pace and finish in a very acceptable 5:46:07.

From the news desk: Jogging May Make You Smarter

I finally joined a gym. I had to do it, you see. I’ve withered away to a mere 165 lbs in the last year. The gym is small, but it has everything I need and is never crowded. It feels great to be lifting weights again.

After my workout this morning I sat for a while and read the latest issue of National Geographic. There was a terrific article on the Evolution of Whales. Sadly the entire story is not on line; you’ll have to subscribe if you want to read the whole thing. But the excerpt at the site has an extraordinary close-up photo of a whale’s eye that I just had to link. Check it out!

Last night I went on what I think is my longest run ever. Nine miles. <Reverend Jim from Taxi> That’s a lotta runnin’. </Reverend Jim from Taxi> It felt good. Yes, my legs are a bit rubbery now. But also, yes, I managed to sweat out (hopefully) whatever lingering impurities were in my system from the Pearl Jam weekend. After 90-some-odd minutes of running in the ruthless Florida humidity, I chugged an entire gallon of water and took a very long, very hot shower. I should be tired as hell, but I’m not. My body is certainly angry at me for not being asleep, but my brain is wide awake and screaming. Funny thing, this brain o’ mine. It gets into these long and convoluted arguments with the rest of my body - heart, lungs, muscles, liver, facial hair - and you would think that it would win. It does, after all, have the benefit of being sentient. But for some reason or another, some reason that it just doesn’t understand, it never wins. At least it keeps arguing. Fightin’ the good fight and all that. Poor guy.

I went on a delightful run tonight. It was crushingly hot and humid, but felt totally awesome. The last mile or so was deadly and my stomach was cramping, though. When I got home and my brain resumed processing, I realized that on Monday the only thing I ate was half an order of horrendous McDonald’s french fries with Jorge; and today all I had had was water. Gah! Why don’t you people remind me to eat! Food! I love food, I swear. Eating is one of my favorite things to do! I just keep forgetting lately. Hmm. Yeah, I know: I have some issues. I’m working on it.

I ran. More later. Gonna go shower.

The previous blog was really last night’s blog. I know it says it’s tonight’s blog, but it lies! Tonight’s blog should be about how I found this cool place blogger, and how they let you do remote blog editing. Since you probably wouldn’t care, though, I’m not going to write a blog about that. Instead I’ll just let you know that Sylvia and I ran 4.6 miles when I got home from work. That and we had salmon and angel hair pasta with brocolli - mmm mmm good.