Date
|
Place
of exercise
|
Duration
(minutes)
|
123
steps (s)
|
Start
time
|
4
June
|
Orlyonok-Орлёнок
|
40
|
29.34
|
07:31
|
A wondrous thing
occurred recently. Elena, a teacher from Anapa in Russia, came to teach the
lower levels of our English classes. This, in itself, isn’t anything to write
about, but the day before yesterday, I noticed that she was wearing a shirt
that proclaimed that she had run 44 km.
This is two km longer than a
marathon. I asked her about it, and she
indeed had run this distance. The race was five years ago, but she is still a
runner. I suggested that we run together and she agreed! Very seldom have a found
someone to run with, and this may be one of those times.
We decided that we
could run together this morning. I woke at 7:00 to hear a lot of thunder. Like
any semi-intelligent person, I thought that it might rain soon. I wasn’t
worried because I am not in the mode that has me overly worried about getting
my runs in. I wouldn’t have been upset if we didn’t run.
This attitude is in
marked contrast to the customary situation. I usually act like an eager puppy
dog, jumping at the chance to do something with someone. Thus, I would
typically be knocking on Elena’s door at 7:28 asking if she was ready. The
usual way things would turn out would have me waking her up and her coming to
the door, asking weakly for my forgiveness, and saying that she will run tomorrow. I would be disappointed and go running by
myself. I would have a good time, I would feel the rush of endorphins, and
continue with my day; I’d be feeling good that I got something done while most
other people were sleeping. Usually, I wouldn’t say anything about it because
if I did, I would be playing the role of the big dork. Again.
Today, however,
this scenario did not play out as in the past. I say at my desk typing some
lesson plans and at 7:28, Elena knocked on MY door rather than the other way
around. By this time, it was raining quite strongly, the thunder and lightning
were still crashing, and the water was flowing down the streets. As I opened the door, I said, “It’s raining.”
“I’m running,” was
her answer.
“I’m going with
you,” was my immediate reply.
I’m not sure if I
have ever stepped right out into such strong rain. I have run through rain
before, but light rain. This rain was a real downpour. After 2 minutes, my
shirt, shorts and shoes were thoroughly drenched, and I could barely see
through my glasses. We ran our intended route, though we didn’t see much. A
couple times, groups of kids were on our path with their umbrellas; near the
beginning, a man was running up the steps as we were going down.
As we neared our
hotel-like quarters, I sped up for the last bit, and charged up the steps. All
the groups must climb these steps 6 or more times per day. That alone might give some sedentary
teenagers a work out.
Date
|
Place
of exercise
|
Duration
(minutes)
|
123
steps
(s)
|
Start
time
|
5
June
|
Orlyonok-Орлёнок
|
44
|
32.25
|
07:31
|
Elena and I ran
today and are planning to run again tomorrow. I have been feeling fabulous. I
was even wondering today if I would be able to run a marathon right now. Legs are fine, feet are fine,
ankles are fine. I have a fabulous constitution. One reason that the run up the
steps was a bit slower may be because I was carrying a bag of Elena’s books.
Rain again today.
The rain today was lighter, though, so we didn’t get as wet as yesterday, and
this afternoon, I found a sunny place where I could dry my shoes, too. Thus,
tomorrow, I will be able to run in nearly perfect footwear.
We received our
official badges yesterday so Elena was able to run outside the gate of Orlyonok
and get some teaching materials from her car. The badge has our picture that
tells everyone that we are truly have the right to be in the camp. As I was
waiting for her, I ran two times through are area that gave me more distance
than the run before.
Date
|
Place
of exercise
|
Duration
(minutes)
|
123 steps(s)
|
400
meters(s)
|
Start
time
|
6
June
|
Orlyonok-Орлёнок
|
43
|
27.37
|
1:16.03
|
07:32
|
A real
accomplishment today. Elena and I ran to the gate area as usual, but today was
a wondrous day—no rain, blue sky, birds filling the sky with song.
In addition to the
wonderful atmosphere, I sampled a modern track on the area of the camp. It was
a truly modern track with an asphalt-like surface and with numbers and lines
painted to indicate where runners should begin for each leg of the various events—400
meter run, 4x100, 4x200, etc. I was feeling fabulous, so I told Elena I was
going to run one lap around the track—a quarter mile, 400 meters. This is the
distance I ran four years ago in Emmetsburg, on their beautiful track. My goal
at the time was 75 seconds, 1 minute and 15 seconds, 1:15. I ended my time in Emmetsburg not coming any
closer than 3 seconds from my goal.
Today, on my first
try, I made it only one second and 3 one-hundredths of second slower than 75
seconds. It makes me think that track is somehow a bit shorter than the
Emmetsburg track. Another idea may be that this track is truly modern, while
the E-burg track might be simply old tires: I heard a TED talk the other day
that the runners of today may not actually be running faster than runners of
years ago, but the surfaces they are running on, and the equipment may be
better.
Whatever the case,
I am super satisfied and quite thrilled to be running again at full speed with
no pain. It’s been nearly a year since I could say that.
Date
|
Place
of exercise
|
Duration
(minutes)
|
123 steps(s)
|
400
meters(s)
|
Start
time
|
7
June
|
Orlyonok-Орлёнок
|
43
|
28.21
|
07:16
|
Our first swim
today. The water was wonderful! I keep telling everyone that we need to go to
the sea. I mean WE as in all the kids. Elena said that when we get back to
camp, we should not tell the kids that we went swimming.
“Why ever not?” I
said.
“Because it is too
cold, and they can’t. They would probably complain.”
“Who said it’s too
cold?”
“I don’t know. The
camp director probably,” she said.
“Well I’m going to
tell them that I went swimming and that it was beautiful. If they complain to
the correct person, maybe they will be able to change the rules.”
I was told that the water needs to be 25
degrees (Celsius, 77 F). I also heard that the water was only 18º (64ºF). I
reasoned that we need to change the parameters because even though the water is
beautiful, it’s not going to get 7º warmer in 2 weeks.
I reasoned that we
needed to talk to Camp Orlyonok’s administrator. But this Camp administrator,
that’s Camp with a big C, is some mythical creature who we don’t see.
I talked to our
camp (I-Camp) admin person. She said, “The decision was not made by me. It is
the camp doctor. Children cannot go into water that is this cold.” To emphasize
the fact that the issue was closed, she added, “This type of discussion (I
believe she may have been referring to other times when I have tried to
illuminate things that seem illogical to me) is pointless,” and she switched
the subject. That was 1:00.
At 3:30, someone
knocked on my door with a message. The English lessons would not transpire at
4:00, as scheduled, but 4:30 or even 5:00 since the kids were going to the
beach.
Who said no one
listens to the person who tries to be logical?
Date
|
Place
of exercise
|
Duration
(minutes)
|
123 steps(s)
|
400
meters(s)
|
Start
time
|
8
June
|
Orlyonok-Орлёнок
|
63
|
28.40
|
1:16.82
|
07:16
|
I began the run
feeling less than enthusiastic. I said right out to Lena that for some reason,
I was in a bit of a sour mood. I plugged along though.
Date
|
Place
of exercise
|
Duration
(minutes)
|
123 steps(s)
|
400
meters(s)
|
Start
time
|
9
June
|
Orlyonok-Орлёнок
|
49
|
27.93
|
1:15.09
|
07:19
|
Oh, the bittersweet
agony of near success. Earlier this week I had run the quarter mile* in almost 75 seconds, 76.03 and 76.83, two
times this week. Therefore, I thought it shouldn’t be too difficult for me to
run just a bit faster and achieve my long-standing goal from four years ago.
This morning, approaching the starting point of my all-out sprint, I was fully
prepared, thinking about running on my toes and picking up my knees.
I achieved my best time to date in the
quarter-mile sprint. A cause for joy on some level. The problem is that I did
not make my supreme goal of 75 seconds. I achieved 75.09 seconds. If another
runner running beside me achieved 75 seconds, I would have lost to that person
by 1.5 feet, 18 inches, barely the width of your shoulders. If I would have run
.0012% faster, I would have made it.
My lungs were
starved of oxygen, my legs ached, and even my neck was sore. How could my neck
be sore, you ask? Three years ago in Moscow, a friend filmed my sprint. The
camera clearly shows me straining, my teeth visible, the tendons bulging out
from the jaw to the top of my shoulders. I’m sure I was doing something similar
today.
Immediately upon
finishing, I stepped away from the inside lane to lane number 2, then to lane
number 3. I knew that I would be walking slowly, so I didn’t want to get in
anyone’s way. I didn’t want to force anyone to detour around me. During my run,
I had had to run around someone running slowly in the inside lane. I had had to
do it on the turn also. To quote Bill Cosby, in order to pass someone on the
turn, “not only do you have to run twice as far, but you have to run twice as
fast.” This could easily have been the difference between 75 seconds and 75.09
seconds.
I began at the cusp
of one of a turns so that I would be able to finish with a long straight away.
As I neared the finish, my legs felt full of the heaviest concrete. It was as
if I was trying to step over a mound of quick sand 4 feet tall with every stride.
At other venues where I had been trying to break records, when I finished I was
awash in similar feelings of ineptitude, but I still managed to achieve good
results. Whether that was because I had already run quickly and I just needed
to hang on, I’m not sure.
Now, I am faced
with the thought that all of my runs in the future will be compared to this
all-out effort, and I will feel similar pain. Do I look like a plodding old
man? Do I look like a svelte athlete? Elena says that I look like a real American.
I’m not sure what that means, or how she thinks she knows what American runners
look like; I am the only full-blooded American on campus. There is one other
teacher who is half Colombian. I will ask Lena to film my effort and I will be
able to see if I am a hulking turtle.
*I say this distance is “the quarter mile” because this is the
distance that took the place of the quarter mile when the athletes in the US
became a small bit more sensible as they converted all their distances to the
supremely logical metric distances that are used throughout the rest of the
world. People in the US still often call this distance the “quarter.”
If the track in Emmetsburg is a quarter mile track, which seems very unlikely since the high schools have not used that antiquated system for years, I would have been running 402.3 meters instead of 400 meters. The oldest Emmetsburg high school track record I found was from 2008, and even at that time, the records are listed in meters.
Date
|
Place
of exercise
|
Duration
(minutes)
|
123 steps(s)
|
400
meters(s)
|
Start
time
|
11*
June
|
Orlyonok-Орлёнок
|
52
|
27.41
|
1:17.13
|
07:16
|
First my fingers
were tingling—not a terribly unpleasant feeling, but unusual. Then, the inside
of my elbows began to ache, followed by aching in my neck. All of this
accompanied by acute inability to breath, gasping for oxygen with great gulps
of air that perpetually left me unsatisfied in my effort to reach equilibrium.
This great strain began after the conclusion of the sprint.
I tried to give
myself a gentle push toward my goal of 75 seconds today by preceding my
head-long dash with half a lap of walking. A failure. My time was more than two
seconds on the wrong side of 1¼ minutes. As I ran around the third turn, I
started to feel weak, like my muscles did not have the required energy to
function. I remembered at that moment that I awoke with great pangs of hunger.
I hate to seem like someone in search of excuses, but last night, I didn’t have
enough time at the dinner table because my team was on the first bus going to
the evening event.
After breakfast, on
the walk back to our lodgings, I found myself at the bottom of the 123 steps,
alongside Valya, the 20-something male counselor. On a whim, I challenged him
to a race to the top. I added quickly, “I’m an old man,” so he wouldn’t be
afraid to race. If he was at all worried, it was displaced folly. He totally
kicked my ass like I was pulling a wagon load of sand up the stairs.
It was shocking. I
was confronted with my total lack of quickness. When I run up the steps by
myself, I think I am moving at a rapid clip. Three seconds into this race,
however, Valya was already 4 or 5 steps ahead of me. When I run, I take two
steps at a time. Every now and then, he jumped up three steps. In itself, of course, three steps is no big deal, but
trying to imagine myself taking three steps was something like jumping from the
ground to the top of the gold medal stand.
During the race, I
was like a little kid trying to wear his father’s shoes. At one point, I
stumbled as I didn’t hit the step cleanly. Valya stopped, turned around and
said, “Be careful.” As we reached the top, with two steps to go, he reached
back and gave me his hand in a gesture designed to make the defeat somewhat
less humiliating. What a nice guy!
He soothed my
injured pride as he said, “Most men of your age would not be able to do this.”
Again...What a nice guy!
*I took a day off yesterday because I have blisters on both feet.
I used yesterday to rest, plan future lessons, and give my feet a break.
Date
|
Place
of exercise
|
Duration
(minutes)
|
123 steps(s)
|
400
meters(s)
|
Start
time
|
12
June
|
Orlyonok-Орлёнок
|
65
|
27.87
|
1:16.49
|
07:19
|
Possibly a new
pain, possibly it was simply unrecognized earlier, but my hamstrings were sore
after the fingers were tingling and at nearly the same time as the inside of
the elbows. My neck presented no pain today—possibly because I did not strain
sufficiently. I forgot to start my stop
watch today, probably because before the start, I had to do small bit of
negotiation with a team of kids who were training,
Luckily, this
morning, Elena was filming me with my iPhone, so I have the time.
Date
|
Place
of exercise
|
Duration
(minutes)
|
123 steps(s)
|
400
meters quarter mile(s)
|
Start
time
|
13
June
|
Orlyonok-Орлёнок
|
55
|
29.19
|
1:16.22
|
07:20
|
I tried to new
method of running the 400 meters today. Rather than run at the limit of my
exertion from the very beginning, I decided I would try to pace myself. I had
been under the impression that the quarter mile was a short distance, and that
I should be able to give an all-out effort during the entire sprint. No. On
June 11 in particular, I was barely able to remain standing while making the
final steps after running at full-speed all the way around the track.
Today, I began at
partial speed. I won’t say that I ran slowly (at least not for me), but I was
not giving it everything I had. As I came around the last turn, leading into a
long straight stretch, I tried to exert myself. As one can see from the graphic
above, I finished in almost 1.25 seconds slower than my goal of 75 seconds.
The logical person
would think that running a second faster when running 75 seconds would be a
simple question of giving a little more effort.
That logical person must not have tried running such as I am now. I, too,
think that adding a bit of effort should be simple. I can remember some 25
years ago when my cousin Susie was running with me. She knew that I was
considering running a marathon. At the end of my run with her, she screamed,
“Come on, James! Finish strong!” or something similar. I think that is what I
need—some kind of encouragement that will push me over the edge. It is an
observed fact that people run quicker when they are running against another
person. I’m sure I am no different. Roger Banister, the first man to run the
mile in under 4 minutes, used several different pace runners so he would be
sure to be remain at top speed. He didn’t want to lag and take himself out of
striking distance from the 4-minute mark.
My sprint up the
123 steps was so slow because I had to dodge a bunch of kids coming down the steps. Many of them greeted me; while not ignoring
them totally, I said no more than one word.
Date
|
Place
of exercise
|
Duration
(minutes)
|
123 steps(s)
|
400
meters quarter mile(s)
|
Start
time
|
14
June
|
Orlyonok-Орлёнок
|
61
|
27.93
|
1:15.13
|
07:19
|
Ugh! .13 seconds.
As I crossed the halfway mark, I glanced at my watch to see that I was at 38
seconds—on pace for 1:16. I reasoned that was exactly where I needed to be. I
didn’t slow down at this point; I maintained my pace, and soon expended greater
effort.
The infinitesimally
tiny amount of extra effort that should make my goal a reality is difficult to
imagine. The thing is that I have already given what seems to me to be the
utmost effort. Just yesterday, I wrote here that I needed to have some competition,
a running partner. Lo and behold, a camper asked to run with us. Before we ran,
I asked her not to run too far ahead of me. I said that she should run just a
bit ahead so I wouldn’t lose heart.
My desire to stay
with her gave me some motivation for a short distance; she fell back after the
first turn. On the next turn, I needed to move out a bit to pass a different
young girl. This small effort may have been the .13 seconds that I needed.
Now I know that an
all-out effort from the very beginning will not serve me well; by the time I
finish, I am absolutely exhausted and barely able to remain erect. Today, I ran
quite leisurely at the start of the sprint, running with great effort at the
end. My results were very nearly sufficient.
Date
|
Place
of exercise
|
Duration
(minutes)
|
123 steps(s)
|
400
meters quarter mile(s)
|
Start
time
|
15
June
|
Orlyonok-Орлёнок
|
55
|
26.07
|
1:15.57
|
07:19
|
Ridiculous. How can someone come within two
seconds of the goal seven times in nine days, but NOT cross the barrier? What
excuses can I find today? It began raining at the start of my run. There were
several people on the track. I didn’t think about picking up my knees, and I
thought about running on my toes only at the beginning. As I finished, I was
running directly into a strong wind. All are valid excuses that could have made
the difference between 1:15.57 and 1:15.00.
The thing is that
none of these excuses are as strong as the mind. My psychological outlook may
be the difference between 1:15 and 1:16. The raindrops falling on my head may
have influenced my speed negatively, not only with the bits of water on my
body, or miniscule bits of slippage between my shoes and the track, but also
because my mind is telling me that it is more difficult, or uncomfortable to
run in the rain.
Unless I misread my
watch, as I passed the half-way point, I was at 36 seconds—on pace for 1:12
rather than 1:15. I did not let down at that point, but sped up. I tried to
push it at the end, and I finished with quite a lot of energy.
Running up the
steps, I broke the 27-second barrier, and nearly the 26-second barrier.
Date
|
Place
of exercise
|
Duration
(minutes)
|
123 steps(s)
|
400
meters quarter mile(s)
|
Start
time
|
16
June
|
Orlyonok-Орлёнок
|
52
|
30.57
|
1:15.70
|
07:19
|
Someone said that the definition of insanity
is doing the same thing and getting the same result over and over, all the time
expecting to get a different result (or something like that…maybe it was
Einstein).
AGAIN, less than a
second too slow. I got up today feeling quite hungry. I had eaten all fruit I
bought last week, so I had nothing to quiet my stomach—and to give me a bit of
energy. I was feeling good, though, and decided to run to the front gate, and
across the road to the fruit shop. I ate one pear during the walk to the track
and I was all set.
At the half-way
point, I looked down to see 36 seconds. For some reason, I put on a burst of
speed. I could actually have slowed down. By the time I finished, my body was
feeling unstable and I even felt like I was going to fall. My steps were
unsteady. Why couldn’t I have simply put
a final push at the end? I consciously considered running a hair faster…I
thought about imagining a person beside me.
This is all a
mental game now. I must admit that it’s interesting to play such games with
myself.
Date
|
Place
of exercise
|
Duration
(minutes)
|
123 steps(s)
|
400
meters(s)
|
Start
time
|
17
June
|
Orlyonok-Орлёнок
|
2
|
1:13.19
|
18:35
|
I did it. I smashed
my record by nearly 2 seconds. You might think that’s nothing big, but the
other teachers around my table in the cafeteria all know it’s monumental.
I have a video of
this, too. On one level, one could say that my penchant for making video is
like the onlooker who can’t keep himself from staring at the train wreck. In
truth, my form doesn’t actually look terrible:
my strides are long, I’m thrusting my arms out far is either direction,
my head is up; a true professional running coach could probably find several
imperfections in my style, but me—I’m happy.
The happiness is
called into question a bit when one considers the other runner, Valya. Rather
than running at the upper limit of his ability, like I was, he looks as though
he is walking from his bedroom to the bathroom in the middle of the night in
his bare feet with his eyes closed. I’m wearing running gear, shorts, t-shirt,
tennis shoes—he’s wearing blue jeans, a polo shirt, and white sneakers that are
two sizes too big, with no socks. This lack of proper equipment, however, does
not mean that his ability to run quicker than me is at all damaged. I asked him
before we ran not to get too far ahead—I didn’t want to lose heart. He
constantly had to keep looking back so he would not trample on my spirit. He
played his role perfectly.
Valya is he male
camp counselor for our “team” of 27 teenagers. I am the designated English
speaker attached to the group. The kids can be heard in the video screaming
encouragement—to Valya. Several of them may have had the impression that Valya
and I were racing. The truth is that I should have paid him to be my pace
animal. I used him like the dog track uses a plastic rabbit. As I wrote here a
couple days ago, I figured that what I needed was some competition to inspire
me to get that extra second. He and I discussed that he was the perfect person
to provide this competition—we just needed to find a time in our schedules to
suit.
Today didn’t begin
like a day when one would expect to shatter a personal record. The first
activity for me was a load of laundry at 6:15 a.m. Then we took a page out of
the army handbook—hurry up and wait. We felt the pressure to get ready so we
did our best to get up at 6:30, as our group leader, Valya, had stipulated. Like
a true aristocrat, he didn’t stumble into the room until 7:45. Then breakfast,
and a 6-hour hike into the hills. The hike was not strenuous, but it was surely
hot and sweaty. We returned to the camp about an hour before the camp
session-ending gala in the Palace of Culture and Sport (DKS), enough time for
me to have a swim in the Black Sea.
After seeing kids
and counselors perform spectacularly, I introduced Valya to the idea of acting
as my pace rabbit before walking back for supper. I needed to take advantage of
the fact that while our lodge is a 25-minute walk from the track, it is in the
shadow of the DKS. What’s more, now that the kids were with us, I imagined an
adoring crowd cheering me on to victory and a new, sub-75 second record. In
reality, the adoring crowd was cheering for my opponent, the rabbit, but the
record was realized and the four-year old goal was achieved.
When I finished, I
felt a new tingling in my ears, strangely. But the other soreness, in my
elbows, in my hamstrings, in my neck, and even in my fingertips, did not
appear. The mind has nearly unlimited power to make the body forget all
troubles. During the 25-minute walk back to supper, we fell in with several
other Orlyonok sub-camps. My spirit was famously buoyed to the point where my
usual conversations of…
“Where you from?”
“The United
States.”
“Oh, ho!”
…were many.
I wasn’t so
presumptuous to think that they would be interested in my new record. But
Dasha, from our team, played the role of the dutiful ‘good listener’ as I
regaled her with every aspect of the event.
No comments:
Post a Comment