The Beginning

In August, two weeks before he was to start the 8th grade of Junior High, they put him in a cage. It was made of chromed steel, hard plastic and stiff cow hide. The hard plastic shell fit around his hips like a vise, made tight by Velcro straps. Long steel strips went from the plastic base up his chest and back, meeting in a mesh of steel under his chin which was supported by a padded leather chin rest.
While he was wearing his cage, he was unable to lift his arms above his chest. Each time he tried, his shoulders and upper arms would bang into the steel bars. He could not turn his head and if he wanted to look at something or someone that wasn’t directly in front of him, had to move his entire body to the left or right. The doctor told him that he had to wear the cage at all times, except in the shower for the first six months. Getting a full night’s sleep was impossible, and the only sleep he did get was when he was flat on his back. Any other position caused the metal bars to dig into his body.
He learned to eat by bringing the fork, spoon or cup high to his mouth and trying to lean forward. Even then, he would spill something almost every time. The food or liquid dribbling down the front of his shirt and on the chin guard which he had to clean after every meal. For two weeks, his only physical activity was the occasional walk. There was no more baseball, biking, running, hiking and nothing that would use up the endless supply of nervous energy flowing through his veins. The cage removed his legs.
Finally, the day he had been dreading for weeks came, the first day of school. Down the street he walked. At first, unnoticed. Then gradually, he saw out of the corner of his eye, other kids in his school pointing at him. He walked straight to the classroom without stopping by his locker or talking to anybody.
In the classroom, the teacher barely acknowledged him as she went through her lesson plan. Sitting down was awkward and very painful. First he had to fall into his seat. Then, the straps and steel bars dug into his hips and lower back. When the teacher called out his name, several of the students laughed out loud and he heard a whispered “tin man” behind him.
For the next six months, every day was a repeat of the first. Like and endless looping nightmare, never changing, never ending. He lost every friend he thought he had. Prevented from taking gym class, he spent that hour in the library.
The one day that was different was when on the way home from school, a bully pushed him down to the ground from behind. He pancaked on the ground, skinning his hands, knees and nose. He surprised the bully by slowly getting up and punching him in the nose. The bully punched him in the chest, hitting one of the metal bars. That was the end of the fight, except for the usual by the bully and his friends that “I’m going to get you later.” Nothing ever came of it, but, he would sometimes wish for more confrontations, at least someone would be talking to him.
Unannounced, his mother took him back to the doctor where he was prodded and asked where his back hurt and to do some stretching exercises. At the end of the exam the doctor turned to his Mother and said “he can take the brace off for one hour a day, starting tomorrow.” His Mother and the doctor spent another 10 minutes talking, but he didn’t hear a word.
That Friday night, he was unable to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time and for once, it wasn’t because of the brace. He couldn’t decide when or how he would use his one hour of freedom. He knew that during the week, he would use it for gym class. Finally, the sun came up. His father made his decision for him about his morning. “You need to mow the lawn, wash out the garage and wash the car before you do anything.”
By the time he finished his chores, it was past 2. He went inside his room and took off the cage. Feeling the loss of the 10 pounds of chrome and leather, he felt light and fast and clean. He put on his sneakers and went out. “Where are you going” his Mother asked. “Out” he said. “When are you coming back?” “In an hour” he responded as he closed the door.
The air felt damp and heavy. The fog was rolling over the hills from Pacifica. He knew there was the sun behind the clouds and the fog. He could feel the warmth, even if he couldn’t see it. He started walking down the street. Faster and faster, until he was running with hard, painful breaths. His body wanted to stop, to make the pain in his legs and chest go away, but, he ignored that. Running to the top of a hill, he paused to look around, back towards the airport and his neighborhood. Then he turned around and ran back home.
Sunday, after he got back from Mass, he ran again. He wanted to go to the library. To get some books on famous runners, but, he would have to wait. In those days, there was no internet, no Amazon, no Barnes & Noble. Nothing to quench the thirst of instant gratification. He had to wait and for him, waiting was a slow death.
Monday came and in his hands were his gym sweats. New, too big because they hadn’t been washed yet. He went to gym class with a smile on his face. After changing, he handed his cage to the Coach in his glassed in office. The cage wouldn’t fit in a regular locker. The Coach looked at the cage and then at him. He said nothing.
In class, he played basketball on an outdoor asphalt court. He didn’t shoot one basket, but was content to run as fast as he could up and down the court. Once, he stole the ball from one of the better players, passed it to another for an easy layup. The player turned and yelled, “good pass.” He smiled and said nothing. It was the first friendly words he had heard from somebody his own age in months. When he retrieved the cage, the Coach asked, “you have to wear this every day?” “Yes, I can only take it off for one hour a day.” The Coach nodded and said nothing.
The rest of winter passed in this way. He was still alone, but he was left alone. Still the freak, the robot, the tin man that wasn’t spoken to, but, now was harassed either. In mid February, he saw a notice posted on the locker room wall. “Tryouts for track, February 21.” He ran as much as he could in gym and on the weekend before the try out.
It was so cold the day of the tryout that he could see his breath every time he exhaled. Huge clouds of steam seemed to float over the grassy and muddy field. The Track Coach was a tall, thin man with glasses, wearing leather shoes with three stripes on the sides. He’d never seen shoes like that close up, only in books or in the old track and field magazines he read in the library. He only had his sneakers.
The Coach pointed to several boys before getting to him and then said, “you boys will be running two laps. Let’s see how you do.” He lined up on a painted chalk line in the grass with the rest of the boys. The Coach yelled “go!” and pushed the button on his stop watch. He felt dizzy as he sprinted around the turn with the other boys, out of breath after only 20 or 30 yards, but he hung on. It hurt, but he kept going.
One by one, one of the boys would slow and he would pass on the left. Still, there were two boys in front of him when they passed the Coach for the second lap. The Coach yelled out their split times as they passed, his face red and excited. On the back stretch, he sprinted and it hurt so bad, he had block spots in his eyes. Each breath burned his throat and chest. Still, he made himself keep going. Flying around the last turn, he finished 10 yards in front of the other runners.
Bent over, holding his knees as he tried to get some air in his lungs and not throw up, he
heard the Coach say “track isn’t like baseball or football, the clock doesn’t care what kind of
shoes you wear, if you are popular or if you wear a back brace. It only matters how fast you run.
Son, you are some fast runner. You will be running the 880 and maybe the mile. Get yourself
some spikes and we’ll see you tomorrow. Oh, and call me Bob, never call me Coach.”
The way home that day, was the easiest he had made since he had been sentenced to the
cage. He was about halfway home when he heard, “hey wait up!” It was a short guy with dark
hair he had seen at the tryouts and around the school named Mike. “So, what event are you
running? I’m doing the quarter mile.”

Lucky Man

For some people, "Lucky Man" is the name of a song by either (depending on your age or musical interests) Emerson Lake and Palmer or The Verve. I like both songs. I was listening to The Verve's song and got to thinking about whether I am a 'Lucky Man." Considering that my children are healthy, intelligent and focused on living a life worth living, I am a lucky man. That my wife is a kind person and a wonderful caretaker of us all, again, I am a lucky man. I have a good job, am reasonably healthy and have had some success in running and other things. Yes, I am a lucky man.

But what about other people who aren't so lucky? I got to thinking about this during my Mother's recent fight with cancer. Writing and calling the Lance Armstrong Foundation did wonders for my confidence in helping my Mother. So, I'm doing what I can, financially and spreading the word for those people who aren't so lucky. let's not depend on the government or on other people to do something. Lets.....................................................Livestrong

Stress Relief

When people talk or write about the benefits of running, almost all of it has to do with the physical benefits. Lowering the heart rate and blood pressure, cholesterol, losing weight etc. I think the biggest benefit is it offers an escape from everyday pressures and worries. Whether its the scenery, the pace or that side stitch that won't go away, it is easy to forget about everyday stresses and focus on the run. Anyone who has done any kind of running will recall a time where a solution to a problem arrived during the run without any prompting or thinking. It was just there.

Considering the average pair of running shoes is 80 bucks and the average cost of therapy is 75 to 100 bucks, lawyers especially divorce lawyers go for 250-350 an hour, running offers a pretty cheap solution to problems and escape from stress. Just looking at a new pair of running shoes brings fantasies of fast effortless runs. Probably won't come true, but then PF Flyers didn't make me jump higher or run faster either. Still, the dream is still alive and the chance to escape to the outdoors should always be taken.

I have regretted not going for a run, but I have never regretted going for a run, even if it was in the snow or rain or in the boiling sun. So, take a mental health break and go for a run!

Run to the Golden Gate

Out and back run, total distance 12 miles. Total distance from here to the office, about a zillion miles. Love to do this run to get away from it all.

Yours truly at the halfway point of the run doing my Captain Jack pose. This is the Fort Point area of the bridge, almost right underneath it. Since its my favorite photo, I wanted to start with this one. Behind me is a popular break for surfing depending on the tides and how close to the rocks the surfers are willing to get. Just too beautiful for words, so I'll stop.

This is Pier 39, the first notable sight along the Embarcadero. For me the highlight is always hearing the singers who sing along with taped songs and sucker tourists out of their money. Oh and the guys that paint themselves silver or gold are amusing too. Watch out for the sea lions they bite!

This part of the Embarcadero follows the trolley line that runs

along the water. On this section, you can buy your tee shirts, have

a hamburger at In & Out or wings at Hooters or for even more fun

get your purse or wallet stolen. Be careful of smiling faces!

This is the dirt trail that runs along the shore

in the area called Crissy Field. The Presidio

now known more for the home of the Sports

Basement is on the left. Normally, the path is

filled with women pushing strollers or walking

their dogs or sometimes doing both. More obstacle

course than path, its still very pretty and easy

on the joints.

Still, I think it is one of the most beautiful parts of San Francisco and everyone coming to this

area, owes themselves the favor of walking here, taking some photos and breathing the

fresh air.

My run to Pier 80

The photo above is a pier that juts out into the bay from where the Embarcadero meets Mission Street. Its a favorite place for people to take a break from work or for young couples to be together and enjoy the view. I finish my runs here and am often asked to take the photos of the smiling couples, which I always do.

Here I am at the back side of the ballpark by McCovey Cove

posing in my New Balance 1063's. Okay, advertising pitch over, I'll just comment that in the summer, I like to time my

runs so I pass by this point in the middle of a day game so

I can hear the crowds.

This photo is the view going from the Y down the Embarcadero towards the Bay Bridge. Usually, there are tons of people, strollers and of course, since this is San Francisco, the bums who like to lounge on the grass you see on the right side of the photo.

Updates and tips on choosing your race distance

This season, I have cut back on my road racing to focus on trail races. So far, I have had two first places and one second place in the 30K distance. I did finish a 50K, but was 8th out of 8 men in my age group. An accomplishment, but i discovered that this distance is not for me. More on this later.

My next race is the Boston Marathon on April 20, 2009. This is my first time running the oldest
road race in the USA and you could say it's been on my "bucket list" for a long time. My only goal is to run faster than my time in the Eugene Maraton, 3:25. Other than that, I am going back to see one of my daughters who lives in New York.

As I mentioned above, I discovered that I am more competitive in the shorter distances-half marathons and 30Ks (18 miles) than I am at the Marathon and ultra marathons. I am basing this opinion on running all of these races at or near the limits of my potential and comparing my finishes. The best finish in a marathon for my age group has been 14th, while I've won at the shorter distances. Granted, the fields at trail races are smaller, but I enjoy them more because the atmosphere is more relaxed and the entry fees are cheaper. I also recover faster from trail races than in the road races which is important because I like to get back to serious training as soon as possible after a race.

Tips for choosing your distance

1) Try them all, from 5ks to marathon provided you have have the experience.
2) Treat a new distance as "training" and see how you feel during and after the race.
3) Gauge how hard your effort is versus your results. Does a short intense 5K feel much better
than the longer slower paced events? Or vice versa?
4) Do you prefer destination races? New York, Boston, London, Italy? Then, the marathon or half marathons are what you should be training for because these races only offer those distances.
5) What do your friends like to run?
6) Do you like to do charity runs?
7) Do you even have the time or interest in training for a marathon? If not, then training for a 5K or 10K is much easier and less time consuming.

Good luck! Please give me whatever feedback you have, I'm always interested in learning from you!

Running as a couple

Most runners have a significant other. Some of these people are also runners and some aren't. Until recently, my significant other otherwise known as my "beloved" was not a runner. So I have put in a lot thought about how runners can avoid some relationship pitfalls. First, I will offer some suggestions when you have a relationship with a non-runner.



Let's get something straight, the non-runner does not fully understand your obsession with running. The never ending buying of shoes and other clothes, the races, the need for a long run on the weekend, why you can run for a few hours and have a big smile on your face. Or, how you can run for 3 hours but not have enough energy to clean the garage.It's a mystery to them. But, he or she can be accepting of your obsession if you remember one very important thing. Do not let your running be a bigger priority than they are. If you want to have a good relationship, you're going to have to come up with some creative ideas of getting in your workouts and giving quality and quantitative time to your significant other. Here are some tips:

1) Run while at work, give up the lunch hour.

2) Get up early, much earlier if necessary.

3) When she is doing something on her own, go for a run.

4) Always keep a pair of running shoes at work and in your car. Be like a boy scout aka Be Prepared!

5) If she/he asks you to run an errand, take "run" literally and run to the store and back.

6) Remember that 2-3 runs of a few miles each still equal 6-10 miles of running a day.

Okay, I won't bore you with more suggestions, I'm sure you get the picture. Now on to relationships where both people are runners.



If you are the more experienced runner, promise yourself one thing. Do not become THE EXPERT and coach all of the fun out of the new runner. It's supposed to be fun, remember? If your SO asks you questions about training or shoes and you know what you are talking about or you write to me first, then offer a suggestion. Keep it a suggestion, and not an order. Be patient. What feels like a nice easy 9 mile jog is a lung burning torture fest to the new runner. If you run with them, think of it as a recovery run.

My SO recently gave me a near heart attack when she said she wanted to do a couples 5K relay around Lake Merritt in Oakland California. I said sure and signed us up. She continued to run and walk on the treadmill. Being a coach, I did sneak a peak at her form, saw it was pretty good and kept my mouth shut. When she told me she had done 2 miles or 40 minutes on the treadmill of running and walking, I praised her. Otherwise, I kept my mouth shut. She didn't ask me about the race other than how it would work. In this case, the women would run a 5K followed by the men. The weather report said it would be raining and I said to her that if she didn't want to run, then that was fine. Remember, this is supposed to be fun and not boot camp. It was pouring rain the morning of the race, but she said she wanted to try. Before the beginning of the race, she asked me about how fast she should run. I suggested that she start slow and then if she felt good, to try to speed up and not to worry about the other runners. So, she lined up and off they went. Some 30 minutes later, she come jogging in with a smile and I take off. After the race, I said over and over how proud of her I was. Remember that. You should be proud too. Running a race for the first time is an accomplishment. We all know the feeling during a race where the body wants to slow down or quit and your mind forces you to go on. New racers learning this and overcoming their doubts and fears should be praised, especially if they are your SO!! So let's review:
1) Don't be a know it all and suck all the fun out of running.
2) Share information when asked, make suggestions, but don't be offended if the suggestions aren't taken
3) Reward them for meeting goals, the first mile, the first 5K, the first race.
4) If you are a marathoner and your SO wants to run a 5K, do it. Be your SO's pacer during the race.
5) Use running as a vacation. Suggest a race at a vacation spot. Some people run in the Vegas marathon just to get married. In this race, you can stop in the middle of the marathon, take your vows and finish the race!

She told me that she wants to run another 5k, only we have to go together. Big smile on face, "great!" And I meant it too!