July 21 - 25

Frustratingly, my leg seems to be fine as long as I'm not serious about training. I ran 30 minutes on Tuesday and 70 on Wednesday and Thursday, but this aggravated the pain in my right hamstring. Right now, I'm thinking I should lay off the running, and just focus on keeping myself fit and healthy while I settle into a new place and job. But I'm also disappointed about my inability to do anything serious.

Monday, July 20, 2009 (70 minutes)

I felt pretty good today. I ran from about 8:30 - 9:40 PM, so it was getting dark, and there was no one around on the field. My hamstring didn't bother me at all, even though the last 10 minutes were around 6:00 pace, and my legs felt strong underneath me.

I like the grass fields here - softer and more consistent than at Caltech. They're all the way across campus, and campus is much larger than at Caltech, but still it's pretty convenient.

July 16 - 19

Thursday 16th: 70 minutes
Friday 17th: 70 minutes
Saturday 18th: 50 minutes
Sunday 19th: off

There's not a lot to say about this running - I just do some laps on one of the fields, never getting below 6:30 pace or so. My hamstring seems to be okay, but not really improving.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009 (30 minutes)

I played a solid 90 minutes of frisbee today, which was fun and a nice way to be social with the kids, but not very bright in terms of the hamstring thing. I kept the run short as some sort of stupid compensation. Instead I should just play board games during the day.

Tuesday, July 16, 2009 (70 minutes)

A nice run at night on the rugby field.

Wow, I just described something as "nice". I doubt I can get more generic than that if I try. But at the moment there's nothing much interesting about the runs, since serious training isn't really possible until my hamstring improves.

Monday, July 13, 2009 (70 minutes)

The mild strain in my hamstring still hasn't evaporated completely. Every time I get down under 5:45 or 6:00 pace I start to feel pain there at the top and back of my right leg, where it connects to my butt.

I've been dealing with it by pretty much not dealing with it - running three or four times a week for an hour, and nothing much else. But I ran with JR the other day, whose injury problems are at least an order of magnitude more persistent than mine. He's up to running 16 minutes a day, from a beginning of two. That's alongside his PT and core programs.

Seeing that JR is still set on running competitively, despite not racing on the track in years, gave me a jolt of motivation. So I'm resuming my core training and running as much as I can without aggravating my leg. Let's see how it goes.

Biking Pasadena - San Diego

"What the fuck? It's light outside." That was my first thought on Wednesday morning. Inauspicious, maybe, but it's certainly better than "where am I? And what is this vomit doing here?

After doing a couple two-hour rides with Ian as preparation (both of which, though pedestrian by a bicyclist's standards, took a serious toll on my lower back), I rode 100 miles from Pasadena to Gustavo's place in Oceanside on Wednesday.

I thought there was a nice sort of symbolism to riding out of town on my own power. In my two extra years at Tech I lived on my own (sometimes), financially supported myself, and in general began operating independently. But despite this seeming increased control over my life, I had a persistent perception of being pulled along in directions I never really wanted to go. On a plane or a train, or even driving a car, I continue to feel directed by the technology, which is bigger and more willful than I am. But the bicycle is intimate. In my imagination before the trip,riding my bike off into the sunrise became a metaphor for the proper role of the individual in society. I'm obviously dependent, in that the machine I operate, the gear I carry, the food I eat, and the infrastructure I use are all gifts of the great mass of people around me, but nonetheless I am personally and directly involved in the direction I am moving to the fullest possible extent. It is not the fastest or the easiest mode of transportation, but that's okay. Taking a trip by bicycle isn't just about getting where you want to be, since that is absurd when compared with how much easier other options are. Instead, the bicyclist, whether it is his original goal or not, is forced to view the trip as itself a worthwhile endeavor. This might be because it is enjoyable, or because it feeds back on the traveler, changing him as well as transporting him, or for some other reason. But whatever the reason to take a trip by bike, the fact that such a trip is selected demands that a reason exists.

I was planning on leaving at 5 AM so I could get to Gustavo's in the early afternoon. Instead, I managed to set my alarm for 4:45 PM, and woke up late at 6:20. The first stretches of the trip through Pasadena were easy, though, so I wasn't worried about getting a late start. Following Katherine's directions, I wound my way over to the River Trail, and made excellent progress through the early morning.

The GPS I carried was a mixed blessing. It made navigation much easier, saving me time and frustration that would have been spent on getting lost. But it also told me just how far (or how not-far) I had gone. At 9 AM it told me I'd gone only 25 miles in two and a half hours - a disheartening statistic. It might have been wrong, of course. Or I might have wasted more time than I thought pursuing a wrong turn once or twice. But because I could quantitatively compare my progress to my expectation, and because that progress didn't stack up, I felt daunted by the prospect of the remaining 75 miles when I got back on the bike after a ten-minute pee-and-stretch break. My back was already a bit sore, and now it looked like I'd be out all day, and maybe not even make it into Oceanside before Gustavo had to leave for the night shift at 5 PM.

Poor progress early on didn't alter the fact that the river trail was easy, quick riding, or that when I got to the PCH the wind was mostly to my back. Over the rest of the day, I repeatedly made better progress than I expected. And magically, my mood improved. It amused me how fickle my own emotions are, and how context-dependent. If I could just head into everything with the expectation it would suck, I'd probably be in constant bliss due to an unending stream of pleasant surprises. (I think this is why, when a blogger links me to a YouTube video of their favorite musical performance along with a glowing review, I never quite "get it". But when I stumble around aimlessly, it's once-in-a-while captivating. Alternatively, this is why a beautiful woman you see on the subway can leave a stronger impression than any number of models in the Victoria's Secret Fashion show.)

By the time I reached San Clemente, I was feeling so confident I didn't even consider taking the metrolink the rest of the way in. The last 40 miles were tougher riding - mild but consistent undulating hills - but I felt engaged, purposeful. My back was sore, but it was more a situation I was managing than a nuisance I was trying to deal with.

Only the last few miles through Oceanside really got to me. It was trying to navigate my way to Gustavo's place, climbing steep hills, and getting progressively more tired after not eating enough (I had food with me, but I just didn't eat enough of it). The six miles inside Oceanside itself seemed absolutely interminable, but at last Gustavo was there shaking my hand, and mercifully, talking about the food he had ready.

I came in just about 3 in the afternoon, making for an 8.5 hour, 100 mile ride. Though exhausting, it was also invigorating just to know "I can do this if I want." It does, however, also send the message, "I can do this if I want, and I can get away without training beforehand," which is not the best thing to tell myself. But I think I was sufficiently humbled by the difficulty of the last hour that it'll be a while before I leap into something so rashly again.

Goose and I got to see just a little of each other, since he had to leave for work a couple hours later, but just the respite of a comfortable place to stay was huge relief.

The next morning I finished the 35 miles or so to the hotel where I met up with my parents. This was a much tougher ride, since I gained and lost the same hundred feet of elevation many times leading up to and going through La Jolla. But I was an old pro now, at least in my mind. I also didn't mind at all when people blew past me, since I got an early start, and there was no rush.

Providian Relay 2009 with the JUICE

Rain can make me miserable. Not for a training run, but for a race, I'm already feeling a little anxious and on-edge. Then when I go all day never getting totally dry or warm I seize the opportunity to grumble about something. That's how I know that Providian was a great time - it was raining and muddy the whole way, and I barely even noticed.

Ogliore recruited me for The Juice: Terror in Meatspace at the Providian Relay.

I was worried because of the mild strain/aching in my hamstring, but it held up well and the relay was great fun. We each ran three legs, totaling 200 miles between the twelve of us. My actual running felt choppy and labored all the time, and the 6-7 mile stretches felt long, but I held up okay.

I only knew about half the team beforehand, but I got to meet all the runners as we went along. A few things that I think made the day work well were:

• The men on our team were reasonably close in ability, and so were the women. There was no worrying about if "that one guy" was going to totally bomb. On the other hand, the legs were all very different and there was no trying to one-up each other. The result was we had a mentality of a single unit.


• We started in the back and continually caught teams (I passed maybe 10 runners on my middle leg, which was typical for the team. I think Jesse and Katherine both passed in the 15-20 range during a leg.) That kept us feeling like were were on a sort of a mission. It was different than running an race from scratch and trying to hold someone off or catch them up. We weren't focusing on any single competitor. The nature of the competitors (a different group of teams every leg) meant we couldn't focus on them. We were basically forced to focus on our own running.


• Ryan's eclectic mix tape.


• The relay was pretty well-organized. I only had one moment of confusion about the course (at the intersection of Henry Road and Henry Lane), and nobody on the team got lost. The bathrooms were decent by my standards, the course was generally challenging, interesting, and scenic.


• The atmosphere was friendly. The vans stopped by the side of the road always cheered, and everyone was full of smiles at the exchanges.


• The JUICE is a very cool crew.


• Running is fun.

Friday, May 1, 2009 (30 am)

Jogged a little in the morning, just waiting for Providian.

Thursday, April 30, 2009 (30am, 30pm)

I took off Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday because my upper hamstring was sore. I guess I strained it mildly, but last night I also discovered a large bruise on that leg. It's on the inside of my thigh, so it's relatively hidden from view, and I hadn't noticed it before. I'm not sure when it appeared, and I'm at a loss to think of a traumatic incident in the recent past that could have caused it. It's about 10cm from the general location of the pain I'm feeling, so while I don't have any particular reason to believe they're connected, it is possible.

Both runs felt fine. I'm feeling the soreness in this muscle mostly when I sit still for an hour, then get up, or occasionally when I take a long stride or do something else that might stress my hamstring a little bit.

I hope that I'll be fine through the relay this weekend. I'm almost certain I'll make it through the first leg with no problems, but I don't know whether running 6:00 pace will aggravate the problem. That's what makes life worth living though - the mystery of the great unknown!