Friday's workout included 2 X 50 reps of knee thrusts with each leg, foot attached to cable weight. Quite fun actually, and I could well imagine how this exercise would strengthen legs for cycling, or kicking a football. Between sets we did a lot of high intensity exercises that involved jumping and high knee lifts; it amazes me that I can do either.
The day's plan called for 5 short sprints with jogging recovery intervals. I did 6. I am also amazed that I can still run fast (fast being relative). I did some abs and then decided to do one last sprint for the road. Turned out to be one too many; I felt something pop in the right groin region. Nothing serious, probably a mild strain, but still scary.
Friday evening Tauni and I went to Rob Reiner's new movie, "Flipped," which had me on the brink of tears throughout as it told the story of a teenage romance, alternating between his and her points of view. The period setting was late 50s and early 60s, exactly the time when I was the age of the characters in the film. The film eventually became the story of two families, and in particular showed how in that pre-feminist age the decisions of husbands channeled the lives of wives and children. It captured well the pain I remember well of my first feeble attempts at romance, and especially the difficulty of learning to honestly communicate feelings. It is a fine film, one that both Tauni and I have already recommended to several friends.
Before the film Dan called and asked if I would be interested in watching Wasatch 100 runners come through one of the aid stations. Turned out he had plans to hang out at the Bigwater station in Mill Creek Canyon until he could find a runner to pace to Brighton. I agreed.
He and I both drove to Brighton, where he dropped off his car. We arrived at Brighton around 11PM, where already a few runners were coming through. We made our way to the Brighton store, which was the check in point and aid station for runners. Dan's movements were quick, smooth, electric. He told me he felt like a kid on Christmas morning, so excited was he.
Just inside the Brighton store entrance was a table manned by two burly, bearded guys who apparently had the task of checking in runners and keeping everyone else out. They let Dan pass because he announced he was a pacer; they barred me from entering until I asked whether I would have to pee in the parking lot. This seemed to concern them enough that they let me use the men's room. The scene behind the two guards resembled the bar scene in Star Wars, the runners having hushed voices, angular bodies and expressionless faces, adorned only with gear and clothes essential to surviving cold nighttime temperatures and extreme physical exertion.
I gave Dan a ride from Brighton to Bigwater. As we passed the trail from Bareass Pass and drove through the upper part of the canyon my mind filled with memories of pacing my former law partner Bob "Mad Dog" Henderson nearly 20 years ago. Bob loved the race and probably finished it 15 times or more. At age 64 he was training for this year's event when he became ill with the degenerative brain disease that took his life just a few weeks ago. The year I paced Bob he trained and then ran with a friend the entire race. It was far from his fastest time, but he showed me something of friendship in guiding his friend through the ordeal. Bob's early demise reminds me both to be grateful for every day, and to rage against physical and mental decline. I am determined to continue to strive and to improve.
As we approached Bigwater we saw the headlamps of a number of runners, who at this point were all walking. I noted one with short, quick steps, using long ski poles. Most appeared to be accompanied by pacers, but several were not. The temperature at Bigwater was 34 degrees. I was surprised to see my breath. The volunteers were dressed as though for winter in Alaska -- heavy down parkas, stocking caps, gloves and beards. Dan was dressed in shorts and leggings, but only a t-shirt and light jacket. I happened to bring two light fleece pullovers, which Dan added as additional layers.
Not long after our arrival the ski-poler checked in, and Dan offered to pace him. He gratefully accepted, after warning Dan that he probably would not say more than two words between Bigwater and Brighton. Dan accepted his condition, offering to talk if helpful but remain silent if not. I don't know how that turned out yet. I departed at about 1230am after extracting Dan's promise to call me as soon as he reached Brighton. Dan called around 6am Saturday morning, advising that he arrived safely and that he would tell me stories later.
I finally went to bed around 230am, got up around 715am and headed to the gym for my Saturday morning workout. I saw several of my group members doing sprints and the like. I was still so sore from Friday I decided to do a low impact combo of stationary bike and elliptical.
I met Parky and Neil Dimick around noon at Valley View. We decided to walk and play 9 holes. The day could not have been more perfect, maybe 75 or 80 degrees, no wind, and a cloudless sky. I hit the ball well all day, and shot 45, one of the best rounds of my life. If I had made a couple puts I would have matched my best score ever. No doubt part of the reason I shot so well is that I am stronger than ever, so fatigue never become a factor and my swing was more consistent than usual. Parky told me I owe it to myself to get serious about the game and play more often. It has been years since I played Valley View; it is a wonderful public course with beautiful views and an interesting mountain goat layout.
I had so much fun playing today that I believe Parky just might be right. As he often is. Surprisingly.
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