MONDAY, DECEMBER 19, 2016

Yesterday I ran a nice contemplative solo warm-up mile, then some fartlek laps around and across the track and on the hillside outside of the track, and then another enjoyable ending mile or so with a fellow runner/triathlete.

This run, about 5K in length, was entirely unplanned. The only plan was to support the new runners and returning runners involved in the running club's 5K training group that met at the track. The group of maybe 20 runners loosened up and then ran and walked laps - 3 minutes run /1 minute walk. After that the group did a series of stretches.

HEAVEN IN DECEMBER

My contribution upon my arrival at the end of my warm-up run, when the group was assembling, was to suggest that all of us were over dressed, with the temperature an unseasonable 55 degrees later in December. I shed my vest and tights to run in just a shirt and shorts. Heaven! (Had I still been in Chicago, my run would have been in snowy subzero conditions - or more likely on the dizzying 11.5-laps-to-the-mile indoor track.) I was introduced as the club's track coach and had an opportunity to pitch involvement in our track workouts that will resume in March.

During the group run/walk laps, I targeted some people whom I had not yet met for conversation, running/walking a little with each person, then cutting across the track to connect with another person. I get inspired by these conversations with aspirational new and returning runners. For them, running is a shiny new object; for me, the joy is helping them learn to run and about running and, most important, to see that running can be fun.

TOO SERIOUS?

One of my new Annapolis running friends, herself a relatively new runner, has accused me of being "too serious" about my running. She has observed me doing intervals and tempo segments during group runs, paying attention to mile splits, being sure I get in my long run miles and being psyched about good race results. The people we run with are mostly like her - running for fun, fitness and companionship. I am the odd duck in this bunch because of my competitive focus.

Yet in recent weeks, during my usual end-of-year off-season (when I am not pursuing a training schedule aimed at my next big race), she has observed and commented favorably on another side of my running as I ran several "unplanned," even last-minute, races. I had a blast during the informal Thanksgiving fun run. With one day's notice I paced the 2:15 finish group in the Annapolis Running Festival half marathon with friend Henry, cracking jokes all the way. And at the last minute I went into the club's 15k race with my stated attitude being "I have no goal for this race."

AWAKENING

With my "no goal" attitude, I started the 15k race slowly, but then, still with no plan in mind, decided to put the hammer down on the first big hill, flying by Henry who like me had said he had no goal for the race except to finish and get his "ironman" award for running all the races in the club series. I maintained the greater effort and sped (for me!) along the hilly trail through the woods, paying little attention to my mile splits. After a few miles, Henry passed me, with a "I thought you weren't going to race this!" exclamation as he went by. I said the hill woke me up and told him to go for it. Over the course of the rest of the race I kept pushing, but watched Henry, 20 plus years my junior, get farther and farther ahead of me, finally disappearing from sight in the final miles. Never having seen Henry run this fast, I realized I had awakened a sleeping beast of a runner!

In the last few miles I knew that even with no plan I was running a good race, and started looking at my watch. My splits showed me slowing: Had I really meant to race the 15K, I would not have dogged the first mile and then blasted the hills so hard early on. I would have saved a little more energy for the final miles. But I hung on and finished 7th of 26 in the 60-69 age group. At 68 I was at the wrong end of the age group to get a medal: Had medals been awarded for the more usual five-year 65-69 age group, I would have been first among 14 runners in the older age group.

THE FLOW OF FAST

Call me "competitive" and I fully agree. A large part of the allure of running and triathlon for me is seeing what I can do and enjoying the "flow" of running and biking and swimming fast. I like a little competition, as Henry offered.

But to call me "serious" about running (or triathlon)? That sounds too much like how one approaches a job. Running and triathlon are not my job (except when I am paid to coach athletes - and that's about their running, swimming and biking, not mine.) Running and triathlon for me are, as I tell those whom I coach and help, fun. With a bow to my running friend, I am happy to call my running, swimming and biking "serious fun!"