My Perfect Storm Of Poor Planning (Or Hubris)
Four miles on four hours of sleep is not an ideal training scenario.
These days find me in the center of a perfect storm of poor planning (or hubris).
I'm in putting the finishing touches on my forthcoming CD, "The Invention of Everything Else," due June 18th on Des Moines' own Authentic Records. I'm still tracking vocals and mixing before shipping off to Nadas' bassist (and Sonic Factory Studios engineer, Jon Locker) for mixing. Then comes mastering, replication, and marketing -- to say nothing of putting together release parties and ...
Top Five Boneheaded Sports-Related Injuries
I've made two fairly boneheaded training mistakes in the last two weeks.
Two weeks ago, I decided it would be fun to jog up then sprint down a mountain above Los Angeles just two hours before boarding the red eye to New York, and two days before the Brooklyn Half Marathon.
And yesterday, I set out for a quick five-miler having not eaten dinner or breakfast, with no money in my pocket, then got carried away and stretched the run to eleven miles.
The ramifications for both were minor. Two weeks ago, I limped around with sore quads ...
Superman In Reverse
That was some serious Clark Kent shit.
I left the Santa Monica office at 5:43, pointed my Nissan towards Temescal Gateway Park (as I've done so many times before), and reasoned with myself the entire way there.
"If I get there by 6:30," I thought, "I can run 'til 7:00. That'll leave me an hour to fill the tank, get to LAX, and drop off the car. It'll be 8:15 by the time I hit security. I'll have a cold beer in my hand by 8:30, with plenty of time to chill before boarding."
It's 8:53, and I'm three paragraphs in.
But that's not ...
The Future Is Ours
I ran for an hour and twenty-four minutes this morning listening to the same two songs over and over and over.
Taken together, REM's "Living Well Is The Best Revenge" and "Man Sized Wreath" clock in at 5:44. Which means that in my ten and a half mile run south along the Hudson, east across Canal, then north along the East River, I listened to these two songs 14.65 times.
It wasn't intentional; my iPod hadn't synched my entire playlist (comprised of some twenty songs from the band's entire catalogue). I didn't discover said malfunction, ...
Run To You
At its best, running is free and unfettered. It doesn't take much: a good jog on the beach really only calls for a pair of shorts. Often, though -- especially these 27° February mornings -- gearing up to run feels like suiting up for battle.
Here's a breakdown of my armour, from head to toe:
Turtle Fur Fleece Beanie, Black: The head loses a lot of heat. Especially my head. Even so, this doesn't stay on long, even on days like today. I like fleece, though; yunno: wicking and all.
Ray Ban RB4075 Sunglasses, Tortoise Frame, ...
Born To Run
I'm often asked why I run the New York City Marathon. Here's my top ten.
10 - It's There. Or, more succinctly, it's right here! The Marathon route comes within four blocks of Abbi and my apartment. In fact, yesterday, as we barrelled towards Columbus Circle, I said to Abbi (in an attempt to galvanize her resolve), "Look, there's our grocery store." I don't think it helped. But seeing the Empire State coming down Fifth, Cat Hill in Central Park, or The Plaza, is energizing. It's my back yard. I don't think I could stand to sit it ...
I’ll Be Right Beside You Dear
It's remarkable how out of shape one can feel just three days before a marathon.
This was my statement to Abbigail as we began running this morning.
My knees were sore (especially the one wrecked from last year's freak slide accident). My hips were sore. I felt stiff and tired.
Now, we planned the wedding and everything else around the New York City Marathon (my eighth, Abbi's third). In fact, in an effort to coordinate our honeymoon with our taper (traditionally, the three weeks prior to any marathon involve far fewer miles than ...
2:43:27
There's a smile on my face in almost every photo of me competing in Sunday's New York City Triathlon. Which is kind of miraculous, as the race was neither painless, nor easy.
In the moments just after my finish, there beneath a canopy of leaves just above Central Park's Sheep's Meadow, I said to Chris, "Man, imagine what we could do if we trained!"
Years ago, the founder of the uber-grass roots Stone Harbor Triathlon casually and innocently characterized me as "a weekend warrior." He meant no harm, but the phrase kinda' hurt. Upon ...
When The Aging Magician Should Begin To Believe
I woke up suddenly this morning, anxious with a thousand thoughts for the day ahead.
Illness, injury, and weather have kept me off my feet in the last thre months since the New York City Marathon. Something about this morning, though, said, "Now is the time." So I got out of bed, and went for a run.
A light dusting of coarse snow blanketed everyting outside. The sun had not yet risen. The sky was smudged gray and brown. Everything was in monochrome: bare branches, bleached concrete, pedestrians.
The cobblestone sidewalk along
...
Same As It Ever Was (Water Flowing Underground)
Every once and a while, I look around and think (a la David Byrne in "Once In A Lifetime"), "How did I get here?"
Last night's unusual location was Sirius Satellite Radio's Studio 12, thirty-six floors above Rockefeller Center. The studio was thoroughly modern, dimly lit, and wrapped in glass. I was wearing headphones, seated behind a thousand dollar Neumann microphone, as guest of (get this) Martha Stewart Living Career Coach, Maggie Mistal.
'Huh?' you ask.
Last year, freelance writer Eileen Gunn called. Eileen's a friend of my ...
