Well, the year 2022 has not gotten off to a great start. This morning on Facebook, I read the following post from Cyndi Boliver Texeira:
“Very sad news….
My mom, Pat Boliver, passed away on Sunday night. It was very sudden and my family is very heartbroken. We are coping the best that we can, and are all taking care of each other. She will be missed immensely. We have rough days, months, and years ahead of us. Much love to you all for allowing her to share her loving, giving nature with you. She was an amazing Mom, Grandma and Great Grandma. Love you forever, Mom. 😪😔♥️”
In many ways, Pat Boliver was the Betty White to Team to End AIDS in Los Angeles, California. Along with her husband Ray and her children and grandchildren, she remained a huge supporter of us marathon runners from one season to the next. During our runs which took us through Burbank and Glendale, she made sure we had all the nutrition we needed to get through the last few miles, some of which included hills. This included water, Gatorade, banana bread, gummy worms, salt packets, pretzels, potato chips, candy corn, Chex Mix and the occasional tablets of Tums. Seriously, Tums are a great defense cramps, something I absolutely hate getting during a run.
But the best treat she always had in store for us runners were the peanut butter and pickle covered Ritz crackers. If this concoction sounds rather gross to you, this is because you have never tried it. I could never get enough of these yummy delights as the peanut butter gave me the protein I needed, and the saltiness of the pickles help to absorb much of the water and other liquids I kept drinking. Maybe others around the world came up with this recipe, but I doubt there were ever as delectable as Pat’s.
When it comes to the many human beings I have come into contact on this crazy planet we call Earth, the best ones have a tremendous humanity which keeps their spirits high even as life throws an endless number of daggers in their general direction. Pat always struck me as one of those individuals as she always had a big smile on her face no matter what time of day it was. This is especially worth noting as she and Ray suffered a tragedy I would not wish on any parent; they outlived one of their children. Their son, Scott Boliver, was my marathon coach for a time and fought a brave battle against cancer. While he did succeed in “slaying the dragon,” which he described his cancer fight as, his body still gave out and he left us far too soon. Still, Pat and Ray held their heads high even as they mourned the passing of their son, and the smiles never faded from their faces. This was especially the case with Pat as she continued to help us runners out in every which way she could. No one knew better than her how powerful Scott’s spirit was and still is to this day, and she did her best to keep her son’s mission in life strong in our hearts.
Here are some of the things my fellow T2EA runners have said to Cyndi about Pat:
“I am so sorry! Your parents are just the best people and got me through some brutal training runs. I will never forget their selfless acts of kindness.”
“Such a wonderful person.”
”She was an amazing woman!!! So caring, nurturing and selfless. Thank you for sharing her with all of us for so many years.”
“Although it was only a few times that I had interactions with her, I knew that she was a very sweet and kind lady with an amazing personality.”
“Your mom was such an amazing woman. I was just thinking about her the other day and reminiscing about her amazing spirit and the beauty of your entire ‘ohana.”
“Your mom was so sweet and I loved seeing her on my runs with APLA. So many fond memories of her kindness. One that sticks out for me is when she and your dad came back around in their truck to check on me during a particularly long and challenging run where I wasn’t doing so well. They made sure I finished safely.”
“She was one of the most beautiful people I know.”
“I was just telling my husband how her banana bread saved my life on marathon day. I would not have made it without your family.”
“Your mom was a shining example of goodness and love.”
“Your parents made my marathon training such a great experience. Your mom was the best.”
Like I said, Pat was our Betty White. She lived a great life and kept her head held high no matter what. While heaven may now have another angel in its midst, it still would have been nice to have her around a lot longer.
Bruno Orlandi and Nihey Takizawa of Kassel Labs have done it again. After finding much success with their Star Wars Intro Creator, they have now done the same with the opening titles of the incredibly popular Netflix series “Stranger Things” which debuted its third season this summer. These titles were created by Imaginary Forces and scored by Michael Stein and Kyle Dixon of the electronic band Survive, and they have since become some of the most memorable titles of any television show released in the past decade. With the intro creator, you can take these titles and make them your own, and you can download the video you create for your own use.
Please keep in mind, downloading an intro creator from Kassel Labs will take time, a lot of time. Since their “Star Wars” intro creator debuted, many people have flocked to their site to make their own, and the waiting time threatens to be infinite. However, you can make a donation of $7 dollars to Kassel Labs which will allow you to move to the front of the line. I did this when I created my own “Strangers Things” intro, but it took five months for me to get my download. Just saying.
I ended up creating a thank you video for those who donated to The Pablove Foundation on my behalf. It is a non-profit organization which is dedicated to finding a cure for pediatric cancer, and I ran the 2019 Los Angeles Marathon in support of it. I put this video together just before the marathon commenced this past March, but it is only now that I have gotten a download of my work. Still, I really want to give thanks to those who still took the time to give even if it is coming a little late.
So, it has been a few weeks since I last wrote about my training for the 2019 Los Angeles Marathon. The last time I did, it was in regards to my 20-mile run which had me suffering an emotional breakdown. In addition, my knees have been hurting more than ever before. I am not in excruciating pain mind you, it’s just that after running the LA Marathon eight years in a row, my body is really feeling the mileage.
After giving much thought to it, I have decided to run the half marathon on March 24, 2019 instead of the full. After suffering several setbacks, it seemed like the smart thing to do. Still, I feel a bit depressed about making this change as it marks the first time in years I will not be running the full LA Marathon. As a result, my enthusiasm for this yearly event, the kind which brings Los Angeles together in a beautiful way, has been dimmed significantly.
But maybe the diming of my enthusiasm is the result of realizing where I am in life. In short, I’m not a young guy anymore. As much as I try to convince myself I am still demographically desirable, I have to face some inescapable facts: I am not as fast as I used to be, my body is failing me more than I care to admit, I am trailing behind everyone to where I cannot catch up with even their vapor trails, and those pounds I aim to shed off my body refuse to be shed. As much as I refuse to act my age (and who does anyway?), my body is changing, or devolving to put it midly.
I remember watching “City Slickers” on the silver screen back in 1991, and this piece of dialogue from Billy Crystal has always stayed with me:
“Have you ever had that feeling that this is the best I’m ever gonna do, this is the best I’m ever gonna feel… and it ain’t that great?”
I was still a teenager when “City Slickers” was released, and I kept thinking to myself, thank god I won’t have to worry about that for a long time. Well, a couple of decades have passed by, and there are things I need to accept as reality: lines are slowly showing up on my face, I’m getting hair where there shouldn’t be hair, and my knees are started to feel like they will collapse without much notice. I was told when I turned 18 how it was all downhill from there, but now I feel like I am going downhill faster than before, and the brakes to slow me down are a lot wobblier than they should be.
For the record, I am still keeping up with marathon training and have been attending each Saturday run the Pablove runners are expected to be at. It has been the rainiest and coldest winter Southern California in years, but neither rain nor the treacherous road that is Forest Lawn Drive can keep us from getting ready for the big day. We even broke our routine up one week and trained at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, and running a couple of loops outside of it was refreshing.
The major upside of the last few runs was, for once, I got to run with others instead of just by myself. It’s nice to have the company as it sure helps motivate me in a way I cannot do on my own. I particularly want to thank Esther and Glendale, both whom are also running the half-marathon, for allowing me to keep up with them. And yes, it allowed me and Glendale to have a discussion about “I Spit on Your Grave” and its upcoming sequel, “I Spit on Your Grave: Déjà Vu.” The two of us are tickled to death over a direct sequel being made to this controversial cult classic all these years later, especially when you consider just how awful the first film was. Esther hasn’t seen or even heard of it, and she should consider herself lucky.
Running with these two reminded me of what kept bringing me back to LA Marathon training for several years now: the people. It’s fun running with people and talking about what the past week was like. Usually I end up running by myself to where my motivation to run more than walk is not as strong as it should be. It’s like I am Charlie Brown and lost in my own thoughts to where I inadvertently trick myself into believing I am going to win the decathlon, and we all remember how “You’re the Greatest, Charlie Brown” ended.
And again, there’s the issue with my knees. How much cartilage do they have left to work with? They ache more than usual, and I am not sure what to do about that. I keep thinking they will buckle on me when I least expect it, and I am trying to remain conscious of my running form from start to finish. George Harrison once sang about his guitar gently weeping, but my knees are not exactly weeping gently.
Also, I have been getting fatigued a lot. I spend a lot of mornings sleeping in even when I know I need to work. Maybe I was a bear in a previous life. A least they have an excuse to sleep for a long time; they hibernate. It makes me long for all the testosterone which starting leaving my body at 40. Testosterone, testosterone, my kingdom for some testosterone! Maybe I should get a bottle of Nugenix and see if it makes a difference. Frank Thomas did say “she’ll like the difference too,” so shouldn’t that be considered a solid endorsement?
Despite the setbacks, I still soldier on. Why? Well, these Saturday morning runs help give me a schedule which self-employment does not always invite (but probably should). It’s a great way for me to keep in shape even as the boundless energy I once had as a youth continues to disappear. And yes, I am doing this for a noble non-profit, The Pablove Foundation, which continues its fight against the insidious disease called pediatric cancer. No one should ever die young. No one.
We need to put more of a face on this disease. The Pablove Foundation has certainly done this, but we as runners don’t always know who we are doing this for on a personal level. Well, at least I don’t. It would serve as a strong reminder of the importance of what we do.
I hope my former marathon coach, JC Fernandez, doesn’t mind, but I wanted to share something he sent me recently:
“I neglected another important thing that I hope you have already taken to heart: YOU ARE A HERO. It can be difficult to consider when you’re focused solely on surviving the next mile of a course, but you have inspired people. People saw you run and thought, ‘Maybe I can do that.’ Furthermore, the people you’ve supported all these years are not grateful to you because of your pace. I’ve said often enough through the years that what we do is not abstract. And somewhere there is a person who at the very least struggles a bit less because of you but at the most remains alive because of you. Do not ever forget that, even if you decide to hang your cape up forever.”
JC certainly has a great point, and he and I learned from the best: Scott Boliver.
FUNDRAISING UPDATE: To date, I have raised $1,062 for The Pablove Foundation. I want to thank all of you who have supported me so far on this voyage to another LA Marathon. My fundraising goal is still $1,500, and there is still plenty of time to make a donation.
So, the last few weeks of Los Angeles Marathon training have proven to be frustrating for me. During our 18-mile run, I lost my cell phone which I mistakenly believed was safe and secure in my arm band, and I was forced to retrace my steps to where I had to abandon the run to find it. Thankfully, the police found my phone and took it to their station in Downtown Los Angeles where I recovered it. As for our 8-mile recovery run which took place the following week, those of us who bothered to show up (three or four people aside from the coaches) decided to cancel it as the rain and cold wind proved to be an unwelcome combination. Those of us who ran, or rather swam, the 2011 LA Marathon can attest to how rain and wind serves to make running a miserable experience as hypothermia becomes more of a problem than heat stroke.
The weather proved to be just as unforgiving this past weekend as rain blanketed much of Los Angeles on the morning of our longest run yet, 20 miles. As much as we would have liked to postpone it due to bad weather, we all knew we had to grin and bear it and go with the US Postal Service motto of how “neither rain nor snow” could keep us from doing our duty.
When my alarm went off at 4:30 a.m., it sounded so peaceful outside my window as I dragged myself out of bed and got my running gear on. But as I began applying anti-chafe cream over my body, I started to hear what sounded like water going through a pipe in my building which I assumed was the result of someone taking a shower next door. But no, the rain was coming down again, and it was coming down hard. I sighed as I put on an extra layer of clothing to combat the cold weather I knew I would be dealing with, and I showed no hesitation in putting on a poncho as well. Lord knows I was going to need it.
Once again, I was the first person to show up at the Pablove meeting site in Griffith Park, but I stayed in my car as the rain was still pouring down hard. The coaches and other runners showed up soon after, but even they were not in a hurry to exit their vehicles. Once Coach Joaquin got out of his, the rest of us followed suit, but I brought my umbrella with me to keep from getting doused before I started pounding the pavement. One of the runners asked if I was planning on taking my umbrella with me on this run, and I replied no. Granted, I think he meant what he said as a joke.
Just as we were about to start, I went back to my car and put my umbrella away. Once I did so, I noticed all the other Pablove runners had taken off without me. I was hoping they would wait, but considering we were starting this run an hour early due to its double-digit length, time was not about to wait for any Pablove runner. As I got underway, another runner arrived at Griffith Park a bit late and ran alongside me. However, it didn’t take long for him to leave me in the dust to where I started singing Eric Carmen’s “All by Myself” to myself.
Our route took us to the treacherous street known as Forest Lawn Drive which has a number of blind spots where cars race by at 45 miles an hour, and it also goes right by a cemetery which always feels like a bad omen. While we always run against traffic, it was decided we should run with it as the other side of the street was flooded to where we would be doused by cars looking to splash unsuspecting pedestrians even as they ran the risk of hydroplaning.
But the beauty of it all was that, as we made our way to Forest Lawn Drive, the rain suddenly stopped. Not only that, the sun began to break through the clouds. I would like to think the weather gods saw us running, recognized me and said, “Hey, you ran the 2011 LA Marathon. Okay, I’ll go easy on you. This weather must bring back bad memories.” As much as we need the rain in California, it was nice to have a break.
Once I made it to Barham Boulevard, I ran up a hill which, like any other, wiped me out very quickly to where my walk breaks lasted longer than they should have. From there, I made a left on Lake Hollywood and ran up to the reservoir, a place I have not run through or around before during marathon training. I was excited at the opportunity to run an unfamiliar place. My enthusiasm, however, was tempered a bit by a sign at the fence in front of me.
The “Keep Me Wild” sign piqued my interest, especially with the mountain lion pictured on it. I know I am not as fast as I used to be, so the chances of escaping an animal who sees me as little more than lunch are not very good to say the least. I kept thinking of the scene from “The Edge,” a terrific character drama starring Anthony Hopkins and Alec Baldwin, in which a character talks about how to avoid being attacked by a bear: put your hands up in the air, look it right in the eye and back away slowly. Of course, it was a bear he was talking about. I’m not sure the same applies to a mountain lion.
I decided to run at a pace of 3:1 as my plan was to finish this run without feeling completely fatigued. Aside from the coaches, there weren’t many familiar faces to pass by on this route. I thought about bringing one of my iPods with me so I could listen to music, but since this day started off with a lot of rain, I figured it was best to leave it behind.
Upon arriving back at Griffith Park, I ran into Coach Kerry who informed me I was running at a pace slower than 15 minutes a mile to where everyone else was now two miles ahead of me. As a result, he advised me to turn around as soon as I reached the other runners or at least when I passed the LA Zoo. I wanted to complete all 20 miles, but Coach Kerry said he didn’t have the resources to ensure my safety at this point, so I obliged him and promised to turn around sooner rather than later.
It was at this point my mood descended to a place of utter frustration. This was also complicated by me dwelling on traumatic events from the past which were suddenly reawakened in my conscious mind. I’m not going into the exact details, but they were driving me insane even as I went about the days acting like nothing was wrong. Furthermore, my knees were hurting more than usual. Granted, I should have expected many parts of my body to get sore on a long run like this, but it worsened my already pathetic mood. Once I passed the LA Zoo, I just gave up and started dragging myself back to the starting spot.
I couldn’t even get myself to run anymore as I wondered if I was really taking marathon training seriously anymore. Just because I am a veteran, does this mean I can wing it as if my body will always remember what is involved in this endurance event? How could I have fallen so far behind everyone else? This is not supposed to be a lonely time for me, is it? Soon after, I found myself crying. I was miserable and felt like I was letting everyone down.
Eventually, Coach Joaquin caught up to me, and as much as I tried to put on a happy face, I just couldn’t do it. I broke down in tears in front of him, and he encouraged me to let it all out. He also told me to “be a man,” but he didn’t mean that in the way most men do. It wasn’t about putting on a strong face and not crying. It was about acknowledging how I felt to where I could deal with my depressed feelings. Clearly I was having a bad day, let alone a bad week, and pretending like nothing was wrong would have been harmful more than anything else. Joaquin told me tomorrow was another day which I come into with a better mood, and that things will be better before I knew it.
Still, as I stood by my lonesome at Griffith Park, I couldn’t hide my sadness as it felt like my body was failing me in a way which was irreversible. Coach Kerry also took notice of my mood and reminded me of all the hard work I have done over these past nine years, and he even said he just started running again for the first time in two years and ended up injuring himself in the process. Also, he said I could always do the half-marathon instead of the full LA Marathon this March as he has yet to register everyone and encouraged me to take the day to think about it. He reminded me of how people have good and bad marathon seasons, and that there was no shame if I decided to do the half instead. I could still run on marathon day.
While I rewarded myself with Sausage McMuffin with Egg meal at my local McDonald’s, my mood had only brightened so much as I still felt kind of separate from the rest of the Pablove runners. It even made me wonder if all the marathons I had done previously meant much in the eyes of my fellow teammates and coaches. I know it helps to be humble, but I want my accomplishments to have more meaning than they already do.
Coach Kerry told me to take a day and think about if I wanted to run the half marathon instead of the full LA Marathon this March. As I tried to have a debate with myself on this, I realized I had already made up my mind. I got in touch with Kerry and told him I will be running the half marathon instead since I was falling behind constantly, and also because me knees were feeling the strain more than ever before (I spent most of Saturday with ice packs on them).
So, this will be the first time in years I won’t be running the full Los Angeles Marathon. While this feels a bit frustrating and disappointing, it is all for the best. I will still be there on March 24th pounding the pavement, and I will still be raising money for The Pablove Foundation as their fight against pediatric cancer rages on. To date, I have raised $652 dollars towards my fundraising goal of $1,500. Please only donate what you can.
And yes, there is no shame in a man crying. Trust me, I have been proving this to be the case for decades.
After a week where rainstorms pounded Los Angeles to where new potholes formed next to the ones which still need to be filled, the sun finally came out again to our collective delight. Yes, sunny weather is the usual norm in Southern California, but we have not seen the sun for the last few days, and a few days here can feel like a whole month. What a pleasure it was to play “Here Comes the Sun” by The Beatles when it thankfully broke through the clouds after a long hiatus.
Following last week’s 16-mile run, the Pablove group was set to do a recovery run of eight miles. I kept myself from doing any maintenance runs during the week as my right foot was still hurting a bit, and after finding myself limping into a nearby McDonald’s for that favorite breakfast of mine, I put ice on it at any given opportunity. Instead of running, I did a couple of rounds of boxing on Wii Sports. Laugh all you want, but I always get one hell of a cardio workout from it.
I arrived at Griffith Park ten minutes before 7:00 a.m., and I would like to add how I was the first Pablove runner to show up there. And yes, I was also the last Pablove runner to finish their run, something which I have no doubt comes as no surprise.
This eight-mile run took us outside of Griffith Park and into Burbank where we ran up and down the familiar streets which surround the local parks and Disney Studios. For once, I found myself really keeping up with my fellow runners to where I was convinced I would be finishing alongside them for a change. Woo-hoo! Well, that’s what I thought anyway.
For most of this training season, I have not bothered running at any specific pace. Everyone else seems determined to run for several minutes straight and walk for what I am guessing is thirty seconds. As a result, I felt obligated to keep up with them as best as I could. But as the run went on, the runners ahead of me became less and less visible, and I was once again all by myself. Glendale (the man, not the city), was behind me, but I believe he is doing the half-marathon this year as he typically cuts his runs short.
My right foot no longer hurts I am happy to report. As much as I would have liked to have done my maintenance runs, it was in my best interest to stay off my feet throughout the week. It was also in my best interest to be conscious of how I was standing throughout the day. This nasty habit of standing on the side of my right foot did me no favors, and this is a habit which needs to die hard.
When I reached the turn around point, Coach Joaquin told me to run the next block or two at 80%, and then to walk the block after that. With us getting closer and closer to the day of the LA Marathon, we needed to step up our game. It was nice to know I could still run very fast even after pounding the pavement or asphalt for four miles.
Still, I found myself taking more walk breaks than I thought I would. I got off to a really good start on this run, and I found myself getting a bit winded a mile five. It was worth walking to enjoy the beautiful and sunny morning as, again, we have seen one like this in the last few days. Eventually, I had to remind myself of how the finish line wasn’t as close as I thought it was.
When I crossed the finish line a number of minutes later, I was pleased to see some of my fellow runners such as Jasmine waiting for me. The coaches were also pleased to see me and applauded as I wrapped up my eight miles, and not just because it meant they could finally get in their cars and drive home.
I felt like I really earned the Sausage McMuffin with Egg meal I got at McDonald’s afterwards. On any other day, I would have gone to the nearest Denny’s to indulge in the forbidden meal which is the Moons Over My Hammy sandwich, but I didn’t feel like going to an establishment where I had to wait an extended period of time to eat.
Next week we run 18 miles, and I will be ready for it. Those maintenance runs will be taken care of, and cardio exercises will be made a priority. We’re moving on up to the west side, and it is not meant to be an easy conquest.
It was raining surprisingly hard in Los Angeles the night before our latest Pablove run. Getting a decent night’s sleep was rather difficult as the rain was LOUD and quickly brought back memories of when I ran the 2011 LA Marathon. That was the first full marathon I ever ran, and those who survived it will always refer to it always as “the monsoon marathon.” The joke was we didn’t run it, we swam it as the rain poured down on us with no sympathy whatsoever, and a harsh wind blew at us from the side which made things even worse. Instead of heat stroke, we had to worry about hypothermia.
These memories rushed through my head as I got ready to drive out to Griffith Park in Burbank. We were going to run 16 miles, so the effort to keep dry was of the upmost necessity. Granted, we need whatever rainstorms we can get in California, and this is regardless of whether or not we are dealing with a drought. Sometimes I look at those heavy clouds in the sky to where I want to yell at them, “Hey, pretend this is Seattle!”
For the record, I arrived at Griffith Park 20 minutes before the clock struck 7:00 am, and Coach Joaquin said I could go ahead if I wanted to. Instead, I wanted to wait up for my fellow runners so I could start with them. Things however were complicated by my sudden need to go to the bathroom. That Promax chocolate chip cookie dough energy bar went right through me, and I didn’t want to start running while carrying an extra load if you know what I mean. I drove to the nearest portable toilet which was several yards away to, you know, drop the kids in the pool. When I returned, more of my fellow Pablove runners had shown up and were ready to go.
I did have my red poncho on, but there was big rip in it in the chest area, and I was concerned it would not keep me dry as a result. Fortunately, Coach Joaquin had brought several supplies including some emergency ponchos. As I took off my red poncho to put on a new one, my fellow Pablove runner Jasmine said, “Don’t take that off! It’s freezing!” It may not be negative 40 degrees in Burbank, but yeah, it was especially frigid this Saturday morning. But by the time I put the poncho on, and finding the right opening for the head was a little challenging, my fellow Pablove runners had already taken off. I was bummed I didn’t get to start with them as it meant I would be running all by myself once again.
Now this 16-mile run was originally supposed to take us outside of Griffith Park and onto the streets of Burbank, and this included Forest Lawn Drive which is always one of the most dangerous streets to run on. The fact it goes by a cemetery makes it all the more dangerous, let alone ominous. But with the streets being especially wet, Coach Joaquin changed the route to something he described as being far more “boring.” Fearing we would get splashed by oncoming cars which would revel in driving through water puddles against their better judgment, he kept our route inside the confines of Griffith Park. The upside? No hills.
Going into this run, I did have a pain of sorts in my right foot. For some bizarre reason, I fell into the unneeded habit of walking on the side of my foot to where I struggled in my maintenance runs during the week. I wasn’t in agony or anything, but I was feeling hobbled by this inescapable irritation I felt as I ran in my neighborhood while listening to the latest episode of “The Ralph Report.”
As I ran through Griffith Park and avoided the wet leaves on the ground which are ever so easy to slip on, the irritation in my right foot was there in a way I could not consciously ignore. I began to wonder if I should cut this run short as the risk of injuring myself was higher than usual. At the same time, this is the longest run we have gone on to date, and I am not a fan of cutting any run short, and that’s even if doing so is for my own benefit.
While running, I came across the much younger runners of the group Students Run LA. Seeing their thin and healthy bodies proved to be a cruel reminder of how my body is nowhere as svelte as it used to be. I just hate, once we get past the age of (expletive deleted) years old, that our metabolism is not at all what it used to be. The world can be far too cruel to us as we get older.
Coach Lourdes was also on hand at the turn around to give us treats like oranges, bananas and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Any and all treats she had on hand were a welcome delight as I consumed them and headed on back in the direction I came.
Because of the sudden change in our route, we were made to run the same way twice. But when I went around again, the irritation in my right foot became especially irritating, and I began to wonder if I should call it a day. This led to me getting stuck in my own head as I debated whether or not to continue. A part of me felt it necessary to soldier on as the LA Marathon will be here before we know it. But the other part was intent on convincing me it was best to call it a day before things got worse. This debate raged in my head as I ran by lonesome across the soaked streets of Griffith Park, and there was no one nearby to help me decide.
In the end, I decided to turn around and head back to the starting line. As much as I would have loved to run all 16 miles, it made more sense to cut this run short as my right foot was giving me more grief than my knees do on a regular occasion. All the same, I was still kicking myself for not running all 16 miles. I cannot help but feel like I am failing myself and the Pablove team by not running the distance we all were expected to traverse. I guess I just love beating the shit out of myself for no good reason.
I explained to Coach Joaquin why I ended my run sooner than expected, and he was very understanding. When all is said and done, I did run 11 miles which is especially impressive considering my situation, and I got to finish alongside many of my fellow Pablove runners in a way I wouldn’t have otherwise.
In retrospect, it’s a good thing I stopped when I did as the rain began pouring down again with a vengeance even before I started driving back to my apartment. Imagine if I was still pounding the pavement when this happened; that new poncho I wore would have come in very handy!
I didn’t even bother using an umbrella as I walked into a nearby McDonald’s restaurant to purchase two Sausage McMuffin with Egg Sandwiches (one was not going to be enough) as I was too lazy and exhausted to worry about getting pneumonia.
The rest of my day was spent resting and putting ice on my right foot in an effort to ease the pain or irritation or whatever you want to call it. We have a recovery run next week of eight miles, and I hope and pray I will be in one piece when it comes. I have trained for this same marathon for several years now, and I fear my body may be taking more of a beating than usual.
The wretched year that was 2018 has now vanished into the annals of history, and 2019 is here with the promise of hope and better things. This is a wave I am eager to ride for as long as humanly possible. It also brought the Pablove runners back to Griffith Park in Burbank for our first run of the new year. We were all out of town for the holidays, and now we are back to burn off all those calories we willingly put on. I could say I was forced to do so, but this would be a flagrant lie.
The first run of the year also serves as a memorial to one of the greatest marathon coaches you could ever hope to have, Scott Boliver. Scott coached us during our Team to End AIDS (T2EA) days while he fought a brave battle against cancer, and he called this battle “slay the dragon.” For the record, he did beat cancer to a bloody pulp, but his body still gave out and we lost him six years ago. I was devastated to learn of his loss as was everybody else, and it felt so unfair. Heaven may be lacking in angels, but it can’t be lacking that many.
This memorial run always brings out past runners who may not be training this season, but they are still infinitely eager to pay their respects to Scott. Among them was JC Fernandez, another marathon coach from my T2EA days who proved to me he still reads my articles on The Ultimate Rabbit when he told me, “Hey, you’re here on time!” Yes, I arrived at Griffith Park 15 minutes before 7:00 a.m. in the past instead of showing up after announcements by Coach Joaquin have been made or when all the runners have taken off before my, I’m assuming, eager arrival.
Also showing up for this important occasion were Stephen, Virginia, Cristie and Jody, and it is always nice to see friends from the past. Another person I was thrilled to see arrive was Gene who has the kind of infinite enthusiasm we all want to bottle up for a profit. I also would like to add he arrived in a Tesla. This is the kind of car powered by electricity, but knowing Gene, he could power it up with his infinite enthusiasm. Heck, he could power it for years!
But the most important guests in attendance were Scott’s parents and his wife Dolly. We went over to the tree planted in Scott’s honor where Dolly thanked us for showing up, and she did say this while bursting into tears to where Scott’s parents lent their support to her as she fought her way through sadness to talk to us. Those who knew Scott loved and found him to be one of the most inspirational human beings who ever walked the face of the earth, and the fact he was taken from us at far too young an age still feels deeply unfair.
Speaking of the tree, it has grown so much since the last training season. It doesn’t need much to keep it standing straight anymore. Just look at it.
As a result of the memorial, our run started a half hour late, and no one could blame me for that (LOL). This was a six-mile run for both the half and full marathoners, and it took us outside of Griffith Park and onto the asphalt streets and sidewalks in Burbank. For the most part it was a flat run, but then there was Fairview Avenue, the most deceptive of all hills.
Here’s the thing about Fairview Avenue; from a distance it does not look like a hill as the street appears quite level. But once you run up it, your legs quickly realize you are going uphill and get really mad as a result. My legs were telling me, “You lied! This is a hill! You insane bastard!” As for my knees, they gave up arguing with me a long time ago.
Once I managed to haul my ass up to the top, and it always takes much longer than it ever should, I caught up with Coach Joaquin who was all smiles, and he pointed out where the turn around point was which only a few yards away. Joaquin then assured me it was all downhill from there, and that phrase always sounds so sweet.
As usual, I was the last one to cross the finish line. But for the record, I did three maintenance runs this past week instead of the two we are asked to do, and this was while I was on vacation in the Bay Area. Even before I made it back to Los Angeles, I was working hard to burn off all those calories from the delicious food I feasted on. My dad loves to cook!
Next week will has us Pablove runners running 16 miles. Now we are getting serious! If I don’t get any form of exercise from now until next Saturday, I am a full-blown masochist.
FUNDRAISING UPDATE: As you all know, I am running this particular Los Angeles Marathon in support of The Pablove Foundation, a non-profit determined to find a cure for pediatric cancer. To date, I have raised $531 towards my fundraising goal of $1,500. It’s a new year, so don’t hesitate to make a tax-deductible donation before the end of it. Click here to find out how you can donate.
This week, I remembered exactly where I parked my car and arrived at Griffith Park in Burbank 15 minutes before the clock hit 7 a.m. Coaches Kerry and Joaquin were there waiting patiently for the Pablove runners in temperatures which were frigid even by Los Angeles standards (yes, we do get cold temperatures from time to time in Southern California). Coach Kerry brought along his dog and had him (or her, I don’t remember) firmly on a leash as this pup was ready to chase after any bicyclists or squirrels in its radar range. Once the first set of bicyclists went by, the dog was ready to hit warp speed, and I think his barks translated into, “Hey, I want to run with you! Yes! Yes! I want to run! Wait up!”
Once Coach Kerry got his dog under control, he suddenly said, “Maybe we should call this run ‘King of the Hill.’” Little did I know what I meant. We have run up and down hills before, and I have come to welcome them as they are part of the LA Marathon. But this week had us going up a hill like none other before it, and it was definitely not the one Kate Bush sang about back in the 1980’s.
This run would be our first double-digit run of the training season as we were running 10 miles, and the coaches had us going up the hill first on the backside of Griffith Park. Good, I thought, we will get the hard stuff out of the way first. Of course, this particular hill always wipes me out long before I reach the top. Even if I wanted to be like Sylvester Stallone in “Rocky IV” when he reached the top of that mountain and yell out “DRAGO!!!” for all to hear, I never have the energy or enthusiasm to do so.
But here’s where the run took a sharp turn both literally and figuratively speaking. Instead of going down the backside of Griffith Park, we took a right onto a paved road which was shut off to cars but not to runners or bicyclists. The only thing is, this road kept going up instead of down. And once I thought I went as far upward as I possibly could, I found I hadn’t. And then later on, I found this out again, and again, and again. As determined as I was to finish these 10 miles, I realized it would probably be longer than the running time of Lars Von Trier’s latest cinematic opus, “The House That Jack Built.”
Look, I am fine with running up hills, but none of those hills we Pablove runners have ascended previously compared to this one. As my walk breaks increased over my running, I wondered if two maintenance runs during the week was even close to being enough to prepare for this or any other marathon. Just imagine if I had hills like this to run up during my cross-country days in high school. Oak Hill Park has nothing on what Griffith Park has to offer!
Nevertheless, I persisted like all those female politicians running for office during the past midterm elections (many of whom won mind you) and did my best. I tried to keep up with everyone else, but as usual I fell behind the rest of humanity and was more than confident nobody would be waiting for me by the time I got back. On the plus side, there was a nice breeze in the air and, even as the sun rose high into the sky, it was neither too hot nor too cold. On the downside, there were no bathrooms or portable toilets nearby, and at one point I had to drop the kids off in the bushes. That’s probably more information than you need, but I don’t want to leave anything out here.
Coach Joaquin was on hand throughout to make certain we were all doing as well as could be expected. Of course, before we started this run, he did tell us all that if we became sick or died on this run, it was not his fault.
Upon approaching Coach Joaquin at one point, I saw a sign which, from a distance, appeared to say “HELL SPOT.” This sign seemed more than appropriate as this was road which people will have better luck hiking up than running up. But once I got closer, I realized it actually said “HELI SPOT.” I don’t know, maybe I’m becoming dyslexic.
One thing this particular course did have going for it was the view it gave us of Burbank and Glendale. Looking at Burbank from a higher elevation, I was reminded of how it is a much bigger city than I ever bother to realize. It’s not at all dwarfed by the IKEA store which, by itself, probably has its own zip code, and the buildings, homes and apartments stretch out for what seem like miles.
I also thought I could see Pasadena from where we were, but Coach Joaquin informed me were looking at Glendale and that Pasadena was further off into the distance. I knew that. Anyway, at least I could tell it wasn’t Russia.
After making a sharp left turn at one point, I assumed we would not be running uphill anymore, but I was incorrect. Still, Coach Joaquin assured me what goes up must come down. You know, like the Trump Administration.
I did catch up with my fellow Pablove runners who encouraged me to keep on going as they made their way back. One of them told me, “I’d tell you the turnaround is right around the corner, but…” Believe me, I appreciated the honesty.
The turnaround point was at this enormous puddle of water which was truly impossible to miss. Looking at it reminded me of a scene from “Stand by Me” in which the four boys come to what looks like a shallow pond they think they can walk across with no problem. River Pheonix even checks to see how deep it is with a stick. Once he convinces everyone it is safe to cross, they walk straight ahead and realize just how deep the water really is. But that’s not all, remember? LEECHES!!!
It was a huge relief to finally reach the turnaround and head back, but there were still some hills to shuffle up and down, and I spent what felt like an obscene amount of time desperately trying to catch my breath. Once I got back to the main road, I knew it was all downhill from there, and in a good way. It’s nice to see “downhill from here” has a couple different meanings and is more than just something adults tell kids when they turn 18.
The coaches were still around when I returned, and this of course meant they could finally pack their things up and go home. I told Coach Joaquin how the maintenance runs I was doing didn’t seem to be enough, and he encouraged me to get in 30 minutes of exercise each day whether it be running or something else. He also made me see that I did good today and pointed out I did complete all 10 miles. I came, I ran and I finished, and this is something I should be proud of. So what if I came in last? I went through all 10 miles with a sheer determination to make it across the finish line.
Coach Joaquin assured me next week’s course will be completely flat and be only six miles. Still, I need to kick up the workouts during the week. I am now past the point of no return.
The end of the year is rapidly approaching, and I encourage you to make one of your last tax-deductible donations to The Pablove Foundation which is dedicated to finding a cure for pediatric cancer. It’s an amazing organization I encourage you all to support, and I still have a way to go with my fundraising. Click here to learn more.
Believe me when I say I was more than ready to take on this latest Pablove run for the 2019 Los Angeles Marathon. I got up especially early, got all my running gear together, and I walked straight to my car which I was convinced was waiting for me on 6th Street. I didn’t drive anywhere the day before, so I had it locked in my mind that my Volkswagen Passat was exactly where I left it.
I am cursed with street parking since the building I live at was built back in the 1920’s, long before anyone thought of the usefulness of parking garages. My car was several blocks away, and as I made my way up towards Fairfax Avenue, I started to wonder if I had passed it. I should have gotten to it already, right? Granted, there have been times in the past when I have forgotten where I parked, but this usually was after a night of heavy drinking. During the marathon training season, my intake of alcohol is restricted to a great extent.
And then I remembered, I actually parked on 3rd Street right near the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf store where I have purchased many Ice-Blended drinks which are mandatory for me during the summertime (the Cookies & Cream drink is my favorite). So yeah, now I had to haul my ass from 6th Street to 3rd Street, and I knew I was going to arrive at Griffith Park late. But on the upside, I did get a hell of a good warm up walk as a result.
By the time I reached Griffith Park, the runners had already taken off, and I could see Coach Kerry driving away. Thankfully, Coach Joaquin did provide us with the route of our nine-mile run via Google Map Pedometer. Once I convinced myself that I could read the map and was confident of the direction I would be heading in, I ran my ass off. I did have my interval timer watch on, but I decided not to run at any specific pace. Since I started late, I didn’t want to fall behind by too much.
For the first time this training season, we had a run which took us outside Griffith Park and into the streets of Burbank and Glendale. I have run these streets before, but thanks to a new sign which was put up just recently, I came to realize Glendale wasn’t as far away as I thought it was. It makes me wonder, where’s the line which divides Burbank and Glendale? Right now, it’s a bit of a blur.
I did catch up with Coach Joaquin who was happy to see me. I told him why I arrived late, and he got a big laugh out of it. It’s always nice to know you are not the only one who forgets where you parked your car. If there ever is an opportunity to remake “Dude, Where’s My Car,” I truly believe I can write the best screenplay for it.
When I caught up with Coach Kerry, however, he was a bit peeved at me for arriving late to this run. I did apologize and explain to him how I forgot where I parked my car, but he was miffed at how I missed out on the announcements he gave the Pablove runners. I hope he can forgive me as it was never my intention to arrive late, but I am not entirely certain such forgiveness will come easily. As I defended myself to him, my fellow 2018 LA Marathon runner Jasmine appeared, and Coach Kerry told me to run back to Griffith Park with her. For once, I was going to arrive back there where people were still hanging out. I tell ya, Hall & Oates’ “Wait for Me” really did the trick!
One thing I really need to remember on these runs is to stay hydrated more regularly. I kept acting as if I didn’t need water or Pedialyte, or that only a few sips of each were needed. It is in my best interest to increase my intake of liquids throughout even if those endorphins are making me feel wonderfully euphoric. There’s nothing wrong about being confident in your abilities, but feeling overconfident could send me back to urgent care before I know it.
It was nice to be running alongside my fellow Pablove runners, but at one point it felt like they just disappeared. Did they suddenly hit warp speed as we passed by that park? Did they take a bathroom break? Well, the latter proved to be the case I eventually saw them in my wake, and I slowed down long enough for them to catch up with me. Of course, this ended up putting me in the position of falling behind everyone again, and as usual I was the last Pablove runner to finish.
After arriving at the finish line, Coach Joaquin had us do some exercises which included lifting our knees really high and running backwards among others. I felt a little silly doing them, but this meant I was doing them right.
So, my run did get cut short, but I still ran a good long distance. As much as I wanted to indulge in another Sausage McMuffin with Egg meal at McDonald’s, I instead drove home and landed in bed for a couple of hours. Being over 40 really makes me miss the joys of testosterone. I hate that it is much harder to stay in shape as you get older. Still, I have given myself a good reason to stay in shape by running this marathon for the ninth year in a row, so I just need to remain focused from now all the way to March 2019. Here’s hoping I burn off much more flab in the process.
Once again, I implore and humbly beg you to consider making a tax-deductible donation to The Pablove Foundation which I am running this LA Marathon in support of. Their efforts in finding a cure for pediatric cancer are far too important to ignore, and this particular disease doesn’t get nearly as much funding as you may think.
I made it back to Los Angeles the day before, but I still had to make some money as bills will never pay themselves like they should, so I didn’t get as much sleep as I should have for this Saturday’s run. Nevertheless, I managed to wake up before 6 a.m. before the alarm on my cellphone went off. However, I did get a bit distracted by the late Jonathan Demme’s “Married to the Mob” which was playing on television, and it remains one of my favorite movies of his. Michelle Pfeiffer was sheer perfection, Dean Stockwell played one of the few likable mob bosses in cinematic history, and Mercedes Ruehl stole every scene she was in.
Anyway, I arrived at Griffith Park in Burbank just as my fellow Pablove runners were beginning their warm-up exercises. These exercises seem simple in design, but they usually serve as a reminder of how my core muscles need to be strengthened more than I bother to realize. It’s all about the cores people, trust me.
This run had us full marathoners going 8 miles, and it took us up and down the backside of Griffith Park. This of course meant we had to run up that never ending hill which never ceases to punish those who ascend it. It doesn’t matter how good of a runner you are. Going up the backside always sucks the wind out of you. We were encouraged to shuffle up it, but even shuffling had me winded to where my walk breaks lasted longer than my time running.
When I came up to the one-mile sign, I wanted to curse it. This sign never comes soon enough on a run, and when I finally reach it, it looks like it is there just to laugh and sneer at me. There are runs where I feel like I have just completed 3 miles, and the one-mile sign shows up as if to say, “psych!” Damn you, one-mile sign! DAMN YOU!!!
But then, upon closer observation, I realized the sign didn’t have the number one on it, but instead an up arrow. The arrow served as a reminder of the direction we needed to run in, as if it were not already obvious. Naturally, I felt like a schmuck for not noticing this at first glance. We all make mistakes and we are never perfect, and it could have been worse; I could have gone in the wrong direction. All the same, DAMN YOU ONE-MILE SIGN!!!
After finally reaching the top, I kept my speed in check as I descended down the other side. For a moment, I wondered if I was running in the wrong direction as Griffith Park became a little too silent for my taste. The drums of Robin Russell really would have been welcome at this point, but I guess he had a gig elsewhere.
Thankfully, Coach Lourdes was there to assure me I was going the right way. And yes, I did pass my fellow runners as they made their way back to where we started. As I made my way back, Lourdes became a bit concerned as I was coughing quite a bit. She asked if I was sick, and I replied I was not but that my allergies were having their way with me to where I wonder why I keep forgetting to invest in the Kleenex company. Maybe the air was dry or dusty. Lord knows the air quality in Los Angeles is never great, and those devastating wildfires have certainly made it even worse.
I have been thinking a lot about getting one of those Navage nose irrigation devices as I feel it will flush out all of my allergies to where my trash cans won’t be filled to the brim with used facial tissues. The only problem is the device costs $90 dollars, and this is a tiny bit more than I want to spend. Any suggestions? Would this be worth increasing my credit card debt for?
I made it back to where we started in one piece, and I was thrilled to see some of my fellow runners were still hanging around when I arrived. Typically, they are pretty quick to get in their cars and speed off, but I guess including the Hall & Oates song “Wait for Me” in one of my previous articles was enough to guilt trip a few Pablove runners into seeing me cross the finish line.
Regardless of my occasional cough, I came out of this run feeling good to where I felt the need to reward myself with a Sausage McMuffin with Egg sandwich at McDonald’s. As much as I should be avoiding fast food restaurants at my age, the breakfast meals at McDonald’s remain infinitely delicious after all these years. Even my dad loves their breakfast sandwiches, and he hates McDonald’s.
To be honest, this training season for the LA Marathon is going better than I expected. Hopefully I am not getting overconfident here, but I came into this season thinking I was not entirely ready to start training. I was hoping to start training more extensively before the Pablove runners met up for their first run, but balancing out running with making a living is always challenging as the latter wins out more often than not. But this time I want to burn the fat off my belly more than ever before. Here’s hoping I will once again look as svelte as I did back in high school. Anything is possible. Anything.
Once again, I implore you to make a tax-deductible donation to The Pablove Foundation which I am running this LA Marathon in support of. They are dedicated to finding a cure for pediatric cancer, and while millions of dollars are spent by our government each year on cancer research, only a tiny portion of it goes towards pediatric cancer research. This disease will not cure itself, so please lend a helping hand.