On Sunday, December 4th, I ran the Cal Internation Marathon, making it my 3rd time for the race itself and my 16th overall. I wish I could say that it was my sweet 16th, but that would have meant running a sub 3:11 or at the very least getting a P.R. But I won't go down that path. My time was a few minutes faster than the one I posted in New York (3:35 vs 3:38), so I feel that I am moving in the right direction.
Enough about time though, let me talk about the race itself. We (my running buddy Chris and I) awoke bright and early, ("bright and early" seemingly always linked to races) gathered our running stuff and jumped on the shuttle which we could practically see from our motel room window. I had slept pretty well that night, feeling fresh enough to try another marathon. The air was you-can-see-your-breath cold and I was thankful that I decided to use the sweats bag for once, which allowed me to bring some additional layers to the start.
The bus was filled with bundled up runners, some looking blankly ahead while others were chatting away. I sat next to someone who fell into the former category, while the two women behind us fell into the latter. I overheard them talking about the pace they were going to run and even talked about future races. "After all of this training, it would be a shame not to use it." one of them said. Good point.
We rolled into the starting area in Folsom, where it was still dark outside. One of the coordinators had entered the bus and told us that we were welcome to stay on to keep warm, which is not quite what I wanted to hear. Still I ventured outside of the bus, not wanting to just sit and stiffen up, though I could argue that the cold can have a similar effect on leg muscles.
A large group of runners had found a temporary home inside a nearby gas station where they could both stay warm and stand and stretch before the race. We followed suit. Before entering the gas station we witnessed a runner tripping on a concrete divider that stood a little higher than a curb and was about as wide as one. He went down like a ton of bricks and was down for several seconds. He wasn't responding to questions of "Are you ok?", but finally did get up with some friends overlooking him. He was holding his shoulder and grimacing in pain. What a way to begin a race.
As we lined up at the start I moved my way towards the pace groups, seeing the "3:10" sign first, one which I would have loved to have hung with, but knew my legs would have something to say about that. I ended up looking back and forth between the "3:20" and "3:30" signs, wishing "3:25" were there to split the difference. For once before a race I decided to use logic. I had crashed badly in New York trying to run a 3:20 pace. Adding the Quad Dipsea race the week before, I was foolish if I thought that I could run that pace. I had to settle for 3:30, which would end up being a challenge for me to stick with anyway.
At about a minute after 7 AM, we were off. Several "pings" were sounding as runner's chips crossed the red mats which captured their true start times. My right achilles tendon feeling tight was the first that that I noticed as I transferred into "marathon mode" a time when you just need to zone out and start piling on the miles. Perhaps the tightness was a lingering effect of the Quad Dipsea, which I had run the weekend before. It would eventually go away, but still caused some concern.
It's a treat to run at sunrise, when the air is frosty and your body is starting to generate some heat from your pumping legs and palpatating heart. I always love the start of a race, when the adrenaline is still thick and body still fresh. You can feel the energy of the stampeding herd which is probably enjoying those same feelings.
After trailing a bouncing 3:30 sign for a few miles, I got a little ambitious and decided to run 10-15 seconds ahead of it, to see how that felt. The mile markers came by me at times of 7:50ish, which was about what I wanted to hit. The course was flanked by the fading fall colors as we passed through folsom and fair oaks. Having run this course twice at racing speed, I decided to look around a bit and enjoy what I was running through. It wasn't as if I was on a stroll through the park, I was still pushing as best as my legs would take on a marathon, but the pace didn't feel so break neck.
As I twisted through town on Fair Oaks avenue, I noticed the little town dentist off to the right of the course. There was a time that I was dating a fellow runner that lived just down the road from that dentistry and even worked there when she wasn't taking the prereq's for dental school. Two years ago she had met me just outside of her apartment and paced me for a mile as I was trying to take a crack at Boston. My ego swelled when she said that she could no longer keep up with me after a mile's worth of running. I felt like superman and it kept me going.
I returned to the present, marching forward through miles 11 and 12, trying to find a port-a-potty to stop at. Surprisingly, every one I passed was occupied until I hit mile 12 and was able to stop for a break after I saw a guy leap out of one. When I re-entered the race, the 3:30 group was a few seconds ahead of me and I decided to hang out with them for a while as we passed the half way point at around 1:44:50.
I thought I could feed off of the energy of the group, somehow using their motivation to fuel my own. It seemed that there was a lot of spirit among them as they chatted with the lead pacer as he trotted on with the sign. I found after about a mile or two that I preferred my own space though and dropped off a few seconds behind, still keeping the pace sign in view.
My my mind was wondering all over the place, which is typically a sign of a tough day. I feel that my best races are ones I do with a focused mind, thinking of mile splits and eating and a sense of how I'm feeling. Everything else is zoned out. For the Cal International there were points in the race where I almost forgot that I was racing, then I'd come back to earth and realize that I had a bunch of miles to run. Doh!
As I ran into the 20's, my focus returned while my legs tired and slowed down. My mantra for many of the remaining miles was "Break 9, Break 9", which meant trying to get under 9 minute miles in my splits. In New York, miles 24 and 25 had me coming in at 10 minute miles, which feels like a snail's pace when I'm fresh, but grueling when my body has been trashed. My goal before entering this marathon was to not end that way, to be able to keep some decent pace at the end. I was able to do that for the most part, hitting 8:40's on miles 22 and 23, then 8:50's on miles 24 and 25. Then I finished very strong.
As I rounded the final turn on mile 26, which I had done in a little under 8, which I was happy with, this older dude clipped me on my right elbow, cutting in front of me from behind. For a few seconds I was really irritated, but then got my revenge by turning on the jets. I was planning on coming in nice and easy, but this guy lit a fire under me and I can't describe how satisfying it felt to blow by him. It was almost as if I was taking all of the little annoyances I felt during the race out on that final stretch. I was almost tempted to turn around and yell out, "Ha!!!" But now in my 30's, I'm a little more mature than that. :-)
After getting my medal draped around my neck, which always feels like I'm being decorated after coming back from some war, and the chip on my shoe clipped off, I took a b-line to the food, then to the sweat bags to pick up my stuff. All I could think about was a hot shower back at the hotel. Unfortuantely, after I grabbed my stuff, I started moving in the wrong direction, noticing the letters on the street signs were going up when I needed down. Thank goodness I noticed right away.
After getting my bearings, I decided to cut through Capital park, a grassy stretch of memorials, gardens and benches, (which I was tempted to sit down on, but knew I'd have a hell of a time getting back up). What caught my eye was a pretty rose garden. In front of each rose bush was a posting of a poem by an elementary school student, describing their thoughts on the subject of "peace". I don't remember what they said, but I was impressed with what these youngsters had written. I think one said, "If everyone loved other countries as much as their own, the world would be at peace" As I walked through, I wondered what Bush would think if he read these (that is if he can actually read). Would he be touched at all by what these kids had said? Is he affected at all by our country's opposition of the war? I just wonder what goes on in his head at night. What about Schwarznagger? Has he had a chance to read these poems? If not, what a shame.
I found some peace walking through this garden. It was a nice way to detach from the marathon and wind down especially since there was hardly anybody walking around there. I like to break away from the crowd and detox.
Walking back to my hotel, passing several people along the way that seemed to have no association with the marathon, I felt as if I was coming back from a halloween party and still had my costume on, all decked out in running gear, a silver cape and a medal. I felt like some super hero who had crash-landed and was headed back to the bat cave in broad daylight.
I hit the shower hard in my hotel room, standing there for several minutes, hoping that Chris would not return soon and find himself waiting there for my deliberate self. As I stepped out of the bathroom, I noticed the room was still empty, waiting for his return. I was hoping he was not lying down in some first aid tent receiving an IV or something along those lines.
I stepped out of the room and leaned out onto the railing that overlooked the street and there he was, moving slowly, but moving back towards the hotel. When he saw me and drew nearer, he flashed two hands at me, showing all 10 fingers. 3:10!!! He had met his goal of hitting that Boston-qualifying time. What a thrill. Mission accomplished.
On the way home we spotted a sign for an IHOP, which seems like an almost perfect post-marathon place. Pancakes were going to hit the spot, big time. We whipped through our meals faster than he was running that day. Chris's plates looked as though they had been run through the dish washer practically without a spot of food on them.
And that was my Cal International Marathon 2005. It was not exactly the speed that I would normally hope for, but I'm moving in the right direction.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Quad Dipsea - 2005
On Saturday I ran my 3rd Quad Dipsea, a race which begins at Old Mill Park in Mill Valley and is run on the Dipsea trail, home of the Dipsea race, which is supposedly the nation's second oldest foot race (I've never heard what the oldest is). The Quad Dipsea isn't nearly as old, but is now in its 23rd year and still going very strong with roughly 250 runners this year. Quad Dipsea is short for Quadruple Dispsea, which gets its name from the fact that the race has you crossing the 7.1 mile Dipsea trail four times. The trail ends at Stinson Beach where they have you turn around and go back to where you came from, twice.
So that's a short history of the race, but this blog is mainly about my history with the race. Yes indeed, this blog is meant to be all about me and my adventures. :-) My day started with a 5 AM wake up, which ended up being closer to 5:20 AM with a couple of presses on the snooze button. I hit the shower, grabbed my gear and headed north on 280. By far the best part of the ride was driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, which never seems to get old to me, but this time seemed uniquely spectactular as I took in a view made more clear by a rain the night before. The skyline had been turned black by a sleeping city and rose up against a faint pink light acting as a messenger of the sunrise. I've seen the city from the same vantage point, lit up by city lights during the night and illuminated by sunlight during the day, but I had never seen it as it was as I made my way to the race. It was a such a treat.
I pulled out the directions to the start after I crossed the bridge and continued on 101. I took the E. Blithedale exit and drove to Throckmartin Ave, which cuts through the down town of Mill Valley. I always make a mental note to return to this down town some day, since I'm never in condition to explore it after the race (One of these days, I will). I arrived at Old Mill Park finding open parking spots that had to be less than 100 feet from the start. This was definitely a first for me as I usually find myself scrambling for a spot. It only took around 10 minutes more to see all of the surround parking spots filled on both sides of the street. I had arrived at nearly exactly the right time.
I walked to the registration table and checked in with my number of "234" (pretty cool number), punching my ticket to run. I then headed to men's room, where there was a nice long line waiting for the lone stall. This contrasted the ladie's rest room, which had no line, which is probably a first in the history of human kind.
As the crowd started to gather at the beggining point of the race, I noticed some familar faces in the crowd in the form of Rob Byrne, Helmut Roesner and Myles Welze. I would see Kitty Moore later on in the race, crossing paths with her on my first trip back. I greeted a few of those folks with handshakes and good mornings and not too soon after, a funny siren-sounding noise went off that supposedly served as the starting gun.
The start of the race was slow, as usual, with hundereds of people making their way up hundereds of steps. On the way up, this dude in his late 50's was cheering us on from his house, which was just to the left of the stairs. He had long hair and was playing air guitar and singing along to "Gimme 3 Steps" by Lynyrd Skynyrd, which was blasting from his home. Perfect song selection. Going back to the pace, I couldn't really complain because I knew what layed ahead of me. 'Tis better to save the energy for later. At the same time, it's still hard for me to figure out when to run and when to walk during the start of this race. There is just so much uphill until you cross the road and hit the trail. I did end up running some of the road before then, just to see if my legs still worked. They did.
After about an hour of some ups and downs, of which there are plenty of on the course, I arrived at cardiac point, which is at about the 4.4 mile mark and a nice milestone to reach no matter what direction you're coming from because of the climbing it takes to get there and the generous downhill you have waiting for you after crossing it. It has an aid station where I tend to graze a little bit. This year, to my delight, they had water melon, which I think is a perfect ultra food, especially after you've been eating GU and downing GU2O. It's nice to bite into something that has a more subtle taste and is much more refreshing. Though it's not quite in season, the melon worked wonders for me. I took a piece each time I passed an aid station.
After refueling and refreshing I took the plunge down the remaining 2.7 miles to Stinson Beach, which does understate things a bit. There is a fair amount of climbing that needs to be done after you lose a chunk of elevation, but it's not as bad as what it takes to get to Cardiac point. Coming into Stinson Beach, I saw Rob and Myles coming back and cheered them on as they passed by. I came into the turn around at around 1:28:30, which was a tad slower than I had expected, given that I felt as if I had pushed myself pretty hard. Nonetheless, I hung out at the aid station for a brief moment and started on Dipsea leg 2. I think this may be the toughest leg to do, psychologically, because you know you have to come back to the Stinson Beach turn around after a lot of running and climbing.
The sky was clear and sunny, but not too warm given the coolness of the air and a slight breeze. The views of the ocean and San Francisco were wonderful, still reaping the benefits of the cleansing rain. Despite how competitive you might feel on these races, I feel its best to slow down at some points and just enjoy where you are. Here I am running along the Dipsea trail with a light wind in my face and sun spreading out all around me, bringing to light the beauty of the natural and human-made marvels of the area. I took a few deep breaths as I ran along the single-track trail, trying to somehow consume everything around me thinking that it could give me more life.
I finished leg number two in around 1:29, giving me a first half pace of 2:57 and change. I remember the first time I had done the Quad Dipsea back in 2001, I had a first half time of 2:50 and ended up finishing at 6:19. As I came into the turn around, I wondered if had learned something about running this race, enough where I could possibly get under the 6 hour mark. Time and more running would tell.
As I embarked on the second half of the course, my goal was to hit Cardiac Point at about an hour, just as I had done on leg number one. After some hard running and hard climbing, I accomplished that, hitting the one hour mark right on the head.
One thing I'm forgetting about as I'm writing this, is the interesting race that was going on by the front runners. The one nice thing about running a race where you're doing multiple outs and backs is you get to track who's ahead. This race had 4 top dogs. The first guy I came across was this bearded gentleman who I was surprised to see walking up the stairs on the way back on leg number 2. Following in hot pursuit was this guy wearing a red and white singlet with "Denmark" printed on it. He was moving very quickly up the stairs, probably at a level 12 on the stair master (not that I use stair master enough to know the levels, but you get the idea). As I passed them I wondered what strategy would win out, the power walk or the stair master. Time and more running would tell. Following them not too far behind was a Japanese kid whom I had seen at the Skyline Open Space Preserve and is the only person to break 4 hours in a PCTR 50K. He also came close to 4 hours at Marin Headlands and finished top 10 in the SF Marathon, so definitely one of the elite runners in the area and someone I've been keeping an eye out for. Rounding out the foursome was a taller, grey-haired guy who seemed to be the most focused of the four. I found that the bearded runner and the Japanese runner were pretty friendly, returning acknowledgement and even encouragement to me as I gave some to them. The Danish runner would look at me, but not respond. This last guy didn't know I was there. We all have different styles.
I came into the final turn around at around 1:28:30 again, which I was pretty happy with. To this point I had run a very robust race and had shown no signs of slowing down. I was happy to see people who were in front me crossing at closer and closer points to the turn arounds and I was stretching the gap between myself and those who were chasing me. That's another nice thing about a race with multiple outs and backs. You do get to see your competition a little more up close, which can be a nice motivational tool.
I set out on my final leg, which is a comforting feeling knowing that you're not going to see these parts of the course again. I needed roughly a 1:33 final lap and wanted to take a stab at it. I tried to push myself on a little more hill running because I knew my walking pace was declining significantly. I found myself saying "C'mon, just run to that next ribbon" to get the motivation to keep my legs churning. There were quite a few runners that I was able to pass and that gave me extra spark to move on. What was fascinating to me though, was seeing the runners that were still left on the trail completing their third leg. There were quite a few that I was sure would not make it back before 5 PM, which would leave them in darkness. Either they were going to cut off the run short or they were crazy enough to give it a try. I suppose the one benefit they would have is they would be able to take in the sunset and the skyline being lit up at nightfall. Still, I don't think I'd want to navigate the trail without some day light.
I hit Cardiac a point a little later than I wanted too (running time of 5:13), still feeling like I had a chance, but my legs were definitely gaining weight, or least that's how it felt. I rumbled down the hill, trying to stretch my legs as much as possible. One mistake I had made earlier was patting myself on the back for not falling during the first 24 miles of the race -- I talked about this with Rob at the end of the race, who concurred that its a big mistake to pat yourself on the back because you'll pay for it later. I laughed when he told me that his biggest fear was losing his teeth and that he had a plan to put them in his water bottle if he ever ran into that situation -- Anyway, I payed dearly, tripping up down a steep descent and barrel rolling into a lovely thorn or thistle patch, whatever those nasty things were. I scrambled to get back up and collect my water bottle which had gotten away from me. I continued to run down the hill, trying to be as careful as possible while I picked thistles out my hands, arms and even my back.
Despite the tumble, I was able recover pretty well and move at a decent pace to the parking lot that marked the beginning of the final climb of the race. My calf muscles popped out on me, cramping as I tried to muscle my way up the first hill from the parking lot. I was in what I call "Frankenstein mode" as I tried to walk with very little knee bend to keep my calves out of the equation. It actually works pretty well.
Each stair seemed to get harder and harder to ascend as my legs lost power and my lower back and hips started to complain. Damned body. What kept me motivated, along with just wanting to be done, was being able to pass a couple of runners on the way up. One of them was stretching against a tree and I noticed his calf muscle was bulging out. "Cramp" he said, as I asked him if he was ok. God do I know what he was feeling.
Before hitting the street crossing at the top, there was a little bit of trail running left to do with some gentle down hill. I took that opportunity to take a second spill when my right foot caught on a rock and I went flying. I let out a groan so loud that it seemed to be coming from somewhere else as I hit the ground with my shoulder and rolled onto my back. I grabbed onto some branches as my legs spun and dangled out above a deep drop to the right of the elevated trail. I chuckle at this now because my only thoughts at the time were of getting up and running when I could have been in some dire straits.
After I collected myself and moved onward, I noticed that a stone, about half the size of dime, had wedged itself into the palm of my hand. I plucked it out immediately and tossed some water on the cut, which continued to bleed for a while. It was by no means a big cut, but the problem was dealing with the fact that I can tend to get a little queasy at the sight of blood, especially my own. It doesn't happen very often, but once in a while an incident like this will creep into my psyche and causes some problems. Normally it's just a matter of lying down and getting the blood back to my head, but I didn't want to take that option. I was facing a serious problem as I approached my final descent down 200+ steps that I overlooked with wobbly legs and a dizzy head. I spent the rest of the race balancing caution with speed, favoring the former. I rose my left hand, the one with the cut, above my head in an attempt to stop the bleeding. It must have looked a little ridiculous, like someone trying get called upon in a class, but it worked.
As my foot dropped down the last step and I ran towards the narrow bridge preceding the finish line, I heard some racing footsteps behind me. "Fuck you", I muttered to myself. Excuse my diction and attitude, but no way was I going to get passed in the last 50 feet after taking a beating over the course of 28.4 miles with nearly 9300 feet of elevation gain. So I turned on the jets and guess what, they were working just fine. "Oooh, these guys are hard core" I heard someone say as I blew past the finish line. I didn't even turn around to see who this guy or gal chasing me was, but I didn't care at that point. I was done.
My time was roughly 6:02:30. My three goals for the race were to finish, P.R. and break 6. I knew I could do the first 2 without much problem having done my previous best time during a day filled with rain, high winds and hail to go along with slippery trails. The third was a stretch goal and I was pretty happy to come close. My 4th and final leg was done in roughly 1:35 and change, which is not a huge drop off in speed. I don't think I would have run the race any differently than I did because I ran it about as evenly I as I could have.
Oh yeah, the front runners...I'm not exactly writing this entry in chronological order, but here's what happened...On my second crossing of these guys, the bearded runner had been passed by Danish one, who had built a pretty comfortable lead. The focused runnner had passed the Japanese kid and was holding the third position. Both still looked pretty good. On my third and final crossing, the bearded runner had taken the lead again and still looked pretty fresh, but the focused runner was hot on his heels, now in second place and probably about 2 minutes behind with a few miles left to go. The Danish runner had fallen off significantly and looked pretty tired. The Japanese runner had fallen off even more so and I belive was not 4th anymore, but perhaps 5th or 6th. At this point I do not know how this race ended, so I'll need to wait for the results, as will you. :-) If it helps, I believe the focused runner's name was Roy Rivers because I heard some runners behind me yelling "Go Roy! He's only 2 minutes ahead of you.". I looked up some past results and found this name among the top Quad Dipsea finishers in the last 3-4 years. I guess we'll wait until results come out with bated breath. Supposedly the top runner finished at a time 4:14, which is about the norm for the top dog in the Quad Dipsea when the field doesn't contain the incompareable Karl Anderson, the only one I've known to break 4 hours.
And that was the 2005 Quad Dipsea, my 3rd one now complete...I heard a few people being signaled out as finishing their 10th as they came across the line. Some day, I would like to get there. I mean, I've done 3...what's 10? :-)
UPDATE - Roy Rivers ended up taking the final lead, finishing in 4:14 and change.
So that's a short history of the race, but this blog is mainly about my history with the race. Yes indeed, this blog is meant to be all about me and my adventures. :-) My day started with a 5 AM wake up, which ended up being closer to 5:20 AM with a couple of presses on the snooze button. I hit the shower, grabbed my gear and headed north on 280. By far the best part of the ride was driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, which never seems to get old to me, but this time seemed uniquely spectactular as I took in a view made more clear by a rain the night before. The skyline had been turned black by a sleeping city and rose up against a faint pink light acting as a messenger of the sunrise. I've seen the city from the same vantage point, lit up by city lights during the night and illuminated by sunlight during the day, but I had never seen it as it was as I made my way to the race. It was a such a treat.
I pulled out the directions to the start after I crossed the bridge and continued on 101. I took the E. Blithedale exit and drove to Throckmartin Ave, which cuts through the down town of Mill Valley. I always make a mental note to return to this down town some day, since I'm never in condition to explore it after the race (One of these days, I will). I arrived at Old Mill Park finding open parking spots that had to be less than 100 feet from the start. This was definitely a first for me as I usually find myself scrambling for a spot. It only took around 10 minutes more to see all of the surround parking spots filled on both sides of the street. I had arrived at nearly exactly the right time.
I walked to the registration table and checked in with my number of "234" (pretty cool number), punching my ticket to run. I then headed to men's room, where there was a nice long line waiting for the lone stall. This contrasted the ladie's rest room, which had no line, which is probably a first in the history of human kind.
As the crowd started to gather at the beggining point of the race, I noticed some familar faces in the crowd in the form of Rob Byrne, Helmut Roesner and Myles Welze. I would see Kitty Moore later on in the race, crossing paths with her on my first trip back. I greeted a few of those folks with handshakes and good mornings and not too soon after, a funny siren-sounding noise went off that supposedly served as the starting gun.
The start of the race was slow, as usual, with hundereds of people making their way up hundereds of steps. On the way up, this dude in his late 50's was cheering us on from his house, which was just to the left of the stairs. He had long hair and was playing air guitar and singing along to "Gimme 3 Steps" by Lynyrd Skynyrd, which was blasting from his home. Perfect song selection. Going back to the pace, I couldn't really complain because I knew what layed ahead of me. 'Tis better to save the energy for later. At the same time, it's still hard for me to figure out when to run and when to walk during the start of this race. There is just so much uphill until you cross the road and hit the trail. I did end up running some of the road before then, just to see if my legs still worked. They did.
After about an hour of some ups and downs, of which there are plenty of on the course, I arrived at cardiac point, which is at about the 4.4 mile mark and a nice milestone to reach no matter what direction you're coming from because of the climbing it takes to get there and the generous downhill you have waiting for you after crossing it. It has an aid station where I tend to graze a little bit. This year, to my delight, they had water melon, which I think is a perfect ultra food, especially after you've been eating GU and downing GU2O. It's nice to bite into something that has a more subtle taste and is much more refreshing. Though it's not quite in season, the melon worked wonders for me. I took a piece each time I passed an aid station.
After refueling and refreshing I took the plunge down the remaining 2.7 miles to Stinson Beach, which does understate things a bit. There is a fair amount of climbing that needs to be done after you lose a chunk of elevation, but it's not as bad as what it takes to get to Cardiac point. Coming into Stinson Beach, I saw Rob and Myles coming back and cheered them on as they passed by. I came into the turn around at around 1:28:30, which was a tad slower than I had expected, given that I felt as if I had pushed myself pretty hard. Nonetheless, I hung out at the aid station for a brief moment and started on Dipsea leg 2. I think this may be the toughest leg to do, psychologically, because you know you have to come back to the Stinson Beach turn around after a lot of running and climbing.
The sky was clear and sunny, but not too warm given the coolness of the air and a slight breeze. The views of the ocean and San Francisco were wonderful, still reaping the benefits of the cleansing rain. Despite how competitive you might feel on these races, I feel its best to slow down at some points and just enjoy where you are. Here I am running along the Dipsea trail with a light wind in my face and sun spreading out all around me, bringing to light the beauty of the natural and human-made marvels of the area. I took a few deep breaths as I ran along the single-track trail, trying to somehow consume everything around me thinking that it could give me more life.
I finished leg number two in around 1:29, giving me a first half pace of 2:57 and change. I remember the first time I had done the Quad Dipsea back in 2001, I had a first half time of 2:50 and ended up finishing at 6:19. As I came into the turn around, I wondered if had learned something about running this race, enough where I could possibly get under the 6 hour mark. Time and more running would tell.
As I embarked on the second half of the course, my goal was to hit Cardiac Point at about an hour, just as I had done on leg number one. After some hard running and hard climbing, I accomplished that, hitting the one hour mark right on the head.
One thing I'm forgetting about as I'm writing this, is the interesting race that was going on by the front runners. The one nice thing about running a race where you're doing multiple outs and backs is you get to track who's ahead. This race had 4 top dogs. The first guy I came across was this bearded gentleman who I was surprised to see walking up the stairs on the way back on leg number 2. Following in hot pursuit was this guy wearing a red and white singlet with "Denmark" printed on it. He was moving very quickly up the stairs, probably at a level 12 on the stair master (not that I use stair master enough to know the levels, but you get the idea). As I passed them I wondered what strategy would win out, the power walk or the stair master. Time and more running would tell. Following them not too far behind was a Japanese kid whom I had seen at the Skyline Open Space Preserve and is the only person to break 4 hours in a PCTR 50K. He also came close to 4 hours at Marin Headlands and finished top 10 in the SF Marathon, so definitely one of the elite runners in the area and someone I've been keeping an eye out for. Rounding out the foursome was a taller, grey-haired guy who seemed to be the most focused of the four. I found that the bearded runner and the Japanese runner were pretty friendly, returning acknowledgement and even encouragement to me as I gave some to them. The Danish runner would look at me, but not respond. This last guy didn't know I was there. We all have different styles.
I came into the final turn around at around 1:28:30 again, which I was pretty happy with. To this point I had run a very robust race and had shown no signs of slowing down. I was happy to see people who were in front me crossing at closer and closer points to the turn arounds and I was stretching the gap between myself and those who were chasing me. That's another nice thing about a race with multiple outs and backs. You do get to see your competition a little more up close, which can be a nice motivational tool.
I set out on my final leg, which is a comforting feeling knowing that you're not going to see these parts of the course again. I needed roughly a 1:33 final lap and wanted to take a stab at it. I tried to push myself on a little more hill running because I knew my walking pace was declining significantly. I found myself saying "C'mon, just run to that next ribbon" to get the motivation to keep my legs churning. There were quite a few runners that I was able to pass and that gave me extra spark to move on. What was fascinating to me though, was seeing the runners that were still left on the trail completing their third leg. There were quite a few that I was sure would not make it back before 5 PM, which would leave them in darkness. Either they were going to cut off the run short or they were crazy enough to give it a try. I suppose the one benefit they would have is they would be able to take in the sunset and the skyline being lit up at nightfall. Still, I don't think I'd want to navigate the trail without some day light.
I hit Cardiac a point a little later than I wanted too (running time of 5:13), still feeling like I had a chance, but my legs were definitely gaining weight, or least that's how it felt. I rumbled down the hill, trying to stretch my legs as much as possible. One mistake I had made earlier was patting myself on the back for not falling during the first 24 miles of the race -- I talked about this with Rob at the end of the race, who concurred that its a big mistake to pat yourself on the back because you'll pay for it later. I laughed when he told me that his biggest fear was losing his teeth and that he had a plan to put them in his water bottle if he ever ran into that situation -- Anyway, I payed dearly, tripping up down a steep descent and barrel rolling into a lovely thorn or thistle patch, whatever those nasty things were. I scrambled to get back up and collect my water bottle which had gotten away from me. I continued to run down the hill, trying to be as careful as possible while I picked thistles out my hands, arms and even my back.
Despite the tumble, I was able recover pretty well and move at a decent pace to the parking lot that marked the beginning of the final climb of the race. My calf muscles popped out on me, cramping as I tried to muscle my way up the first hill from the parking lot. I was in what I call "Frankenstein mode" as I tried to walk with very little knee bend to keep my calves out of the equation. It actually works pretty well.
Each stair seemed to get harder and harder to ascend as my legs lost power and my lower back and hips started to complain. Damned body. What kept me motivated, along with just wanting to be done, was being able to pass a couple of runners on the way up. One of them was stretching against a tree and I noticed his calf muscle was bulging out. "Cramp" he said, as I asked him if he was ok. God do I know what he was feeling.
Before hitting the street crossing at the top, there was a little bit of trail running left to do with some gentle down hill. I took that opportunity to take a second spill when my right foot caught on a rock and I went flying. I let out a groan so loud that it seemed to be coming from somewhere else as I hit the ground with my shoulder and rolled onto my back. I grabbed onto some branches as my legs spun and dangled out above a deep drop to the right of the elevated trail. I chuckle at this now because my only thoughts at the time were of getting up and running when I could have been in some dire straits.
After I collected myself and moved onward, I noticed that a stone, about half the size of dime, had wedged itself into the palm of my hand. I plucked it out immediately and tossed some water on the cut, which continued to bleed for a while. It was by no means a big cut, but the problem was dealing with the fact that I can tend to get a little queasy at the sight of blood, especially my own. It doesn't happen very often, but once in a while an incident like this will creep into my psyche and causes some problems. Normally it's just a matter of lying down and getting the blood back to my head, but I didn't want to take that option. I was facing a serious problem as I approached my final descent down 200+ steps that I overlooked with wobbly legs and a dizzy head. I spent the rest of the race balancing caution with speed, favoring the former. I rose my left hand, the one with the cut, above my head in an attempt to stop the bleeding. It must have looked a little ridiculous, like someone trying get called upon in a class, but it worked.
As my foot dropped down the last step and I ran towards the narrow bridge preceding the finish line, I heard some racing footsteps behind me. "Fuck you", I muttered to myself. Excuse my diction and attitude, but no way was I going to get passed in the last 50 feet after taking a beating over the course of 28.4 miles with nearly 9300 feet of elevation gain. So I turned on the jets and guess what, they were working just fine. "Oooh, these guys are hard core" I heard someone say as I blew past the finish line. I didn't even turn around to see who this guy or gal chasing me was, but I didn't care at that point. I was done.
My time was roughly 6:02:30. My three goals for the race were to finish, P.R. and break 6. I knew I could do the first 2 without much problem having done my previous best time during a day filled with rain, high winds and hail to go along with slippery trails. The third was a stretch goal and I was pretty happy to come close. My 4th and final leg was done in roughly 1:35 and change, which is not a huge drop off in speed. I don't think I would have run the race any differently than I did because I ran it about as evenly I as I could have.
Oh yeah, the front runners...I'm not exactly writing this entry in chronological order, but here's what happened...On my second crossing of these guys, the bearded runner had been passed by Danish one, who had built a pretty comfortable lead. The focused runnner had passed the Japanese kid and was holding the third position. Both still looked pretty good. On my third and final crossing, the bearded runner had taken the lead again and still looked pretty fresh, but the focused runner was hot on his heels, now in second place and probably about 2 minutes behind with a few miles left to go. The Danish runner had fallen off significantly and looked pretty tired. The Japanese runner had fallen off even more so and I belive was not 4th anymore, but perhaps 5th or 6th. At this point I do not know how this race ended, so I'll need to wait for the results, as will you. :-) If it helps, I believe the focused runner's name was Roy Rivers because I heard some runners behind me yelling "Go Roy! He's only 2 minutes ahead of you.". I looked up some past results and found this name among the top Quad Dipsea finishers in the last 3-4 years. I guess we'll wait until results come out with bated breath. Supposedly the top runner finished at a time 4:14, which is about the norm for the top dog in the Quad Dipsea when the field doesn't contain the incompareable Karl Anderson, the only one I've known to break 4 hours.
And that was the 2005 Quad Dipsea, my 3rd one now complete...I heard a few people being signaled out as finishing their 10th as they came across the line. Some day, I would like to get there. I mean, I've done 3...what's 10? :-)
UPDATE - Roy Rivers ended up taking the final lead, finishing in 4:14 and change.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Madison Trip
I didn't want to stop Blogging, so I'll continue with a delayed post on my trip to Madison.
As usual, it was awesome to return home and spend some time in my college town, which contains so many happy memories, ones which I continue to build. It started with a stop in my home town of West Bend after a flight to Milwaukee, coming in at around 1 AM and crashing in the bed housed by the room that my sister used to sleep in. A room which still has some glow in the dark stickers on the ceiling of stars and a moon, something which seems to give me a little bit of comfort before I drift off to sleep.
I rose in the morning around 8:30 AM, half suprising my mother who expected me to be sleeping in a little later after such a late night. I was excited to get going though with my short vacation. My brother, mother and I took a little ride to Sandy's cafe in Barton, WI a little smidge of a town on the outskirts of bustling West Bend. It's a place my great, great granparents actually used to live, way back in the day. My great grandfather was a shoe maker there, is what my mom as told me. By synchronicity, she found her way back to the neighboring town, all the way from Mankato, Minnesota, a seven hour drive away. I guess we some times tend to go back to our roots.
We walked into the Sandy's greeted by a friendly smile by the lone waitress there. We sat ourselves down at a middle table. What I noticed about the locals right away is that a few of them were smoking, which is not seen in California. What a wonderful law that I'm hoping makes its way to all necks of the woods. Who wants to taste smoke with their meal? Anyway, my eyes found themselve on the chalkboard behind the counter, which displayed the daily specials, one of which was eggs benedict, perhaps my my all-time favorite breafast. I had to go for it and so did my brother. We ordered the specials with large chocolate milks, Mike going for the home fries and I went for the hashbrowns. My mom went for scrambled eggs with some home fries and a coffee. When we had consumed all of this, the damage turned out to be a paltry $17.57. Gotta love midwest living.
After running some errands my mom and I packed our stuff and headed to Madison, which meant heading west on hwy 33 and then south on 151. As we were driving there, I decided I'd like to head to my favorite shoe store, which is west of the Mad town in a town called Black Earth. It's a very scenic drive as you get off the hwy and head to Black Earth, a drive in a rural area of steep hillsides, not commonly found in Wisconsin. If we continued west past the shoe store, we would run into Spring Green, a beatiful part of the state and former home of Frank Lloyd Wright, a place where he started an architect school called Taliesin. Spring Green also has a nice outdoor theater where I had gone to a couple plays in high school, King Lear and Enemy of the People, both starring a man by the name of Randall Duk Kim, an actor who eventually has found himself in a few movies, the most famous being "The Matrix" where he played the role of "The Key Maker" in the second film. What's strangely coincidental of my encountering of this of actor during my highschool years is that he had attended high school in Hawaii with a very good friend of mine's mother. Supposedly it was a very small high school and she remembers him tugging on her hair as boys have been known to do.
Well, I need to end here actually because its late and I need to go to bed. I'll continue on the riveting details of my Madison trip next time, which I hope is tomorrow...
As usual, it was awesome to return home and spend some time in my college town, which contains so many happy memories, ones which I continue to build. It started with a stop in my home town of West Bend after a flight to Milwaukee, coming in at around 1 AM and crashing in the bed housed by the room that my sister used to sleep in. A room which still has some glow in the dark stickers on the ceiling of stars and a moon, something which seems to give me a little bit of comfort before I drift off to sleep.
I rose in the morning around 8:30 AM, half suprising my mother who expected me to be sleeping in a little later after such a late night. I was excited to get going though with my short vacation. My brother, mother and I took a little ride to Sandy's cafe in Barton, WI a little smidge of a town on the outskirts of bustling West Bend. It's a place my great, great granparents actually used to live, way back in the day. My great grandfather was a shoe maker there, is what my mom as told me. By synchronicity, she found her way back to the neighboring town, all the way from Mankato, Minnesota, a seven hour drive away. I guess we some times tend to go back to our roots.
We walked into the Sandy's greeted by a friendly smile by the lone waitress there. We sat ourselves down at a middle table. What I noticed about the locals right away is that a few of them were smoking, which is not seen in California. What a wonderful law that I'm hoping makes its way to all necks of the woods. Who wants to taste smoke with their meal? Anyway, my eyes found themselve on the chalkboard behind the counter, which displayed the daily specials, one of which was eggs benedict, perhaps my my all-time favorite breafast. I had to go for it and so did my brother. We ordered the specials with large chocolate milks, Mike going for the home fries and I went for the hashbrowns. My mom went for scrambled eggs with some home fries and a coffee. When we had consumed all of this, the damage turned out to be a paltry $17.57. Gotta love midwest living.
After running some errands my mom and I packed our stuff and headed to Madison, which meant heading west on hwy 33 and then south on 151. As we were driving there, I decided I'd like to head to my favorite shoe store, which is west of the Mad town in a town called Black Earth. It's a very scenic drive as you get off the hwy and head to Black Earth, a drive in a rural area of steep hillsides, not commonly found in Wisconsin. If we continued west past the shoe store, we would run into Spring Green, a beatiful part of the state and former home of Frank Lloyd Wright, a place where he started an architect school called Taliesin. Spring Green also has a nice outdoor theater where I had gone to a couple plays in high school, King Lear and Enemy of the People, both starring a man by the name of Randall Duk Kim, an actor who eventually has found himself in a few movies, the most famous being "The Matrix" where he played the role of "The Key Maker" in the second film. What's strangely coincidental of my encountering of this of actor during my highschool years is that he had attended high school in Hawaii with a very good friend of mine's mother. Supposedly it was a very small high school and she remembers him tugging on her hair as boys have been known to do.
Well, I need to end here actually because its late and I need to go to bed. I'll continue on the riveting details of my Madison trip next time, which I hope is tomorrow...
Sunday, November 06, 2005
11/6 marathon man
Foothill Scrambler: Today we talk to Mark after he's run his 15th marathon, this time doing New York City. Take us through your day, Mark.
Mark: The day started with a 4:30 AM wake up call, which I probably didn't need because it seemed like I barely slept a wink. Though I did feel very well rested. After getting up, I showered, put on the running gear, grabbed some food and other essentials and started working my way down to the NY public library, where the shuttles to Staten Island would be waiting. I ended up getting there by 5:30ish and was at Staten Island a little after 6. Again I was taken aback by the friendliness and enthusiasm of all of the marathon volunteers. They were excited to see the runners and one of them yelled out "There's no place like home, there's no place like home" to me in reference to my running shoes.
FS: I take it they're a nice ruby red.
M: Probably not ruby red, but definitely bright red. Quite a coincidence too, having just seen Wicked, which brings up those same ruby red shoes.
FS: So you're at your Staten Island and about ready to race.
M: Yes, but one of the early challenges was waiting for the race, which didn't start until 10:10.
FS: You were waiting for 4 hours?
M: Yeah. Pure torture...I ended up finding a curb, laying some plastic bags down on the wet grass and tried to take a nap. Maybe "Pure torture" overstates a bit, the time went faster than I thought it would and it didn't seem to long before they were lining us up in the shoot. Someone that I couldn't see sang the national anthem, mayor bloomberg said a few words and off went the gun or some explosion of some sort.
FS: Were people moving pretty well at the start?
M: Painfully slow actually, but I had read and heard several warnings about that happening. My first mile was about 10 minutes, which was halfway across the Verazzano bridge a beautiful crossing. There several boats in the bay firing water out of their hoses, some of the streams were colored. It was a pretty sight. Coming down the second half of the bridge, it started to open up a bit and I was able to run a sub 7. Towards the end of mile 3, it started to bottle neck again, though I was able to keep a decent pace at that time. What was kind of interesting about the race is that hey had 3 different shoots and it seemed that one of the shoots was running a slightly different course up until mile 8 or so, when we intersected. We were actually running side by side before that with their mile markers coming about a 200 yards past the ones I was running by.
FS: Did the course cover all 5 burroughs?
M: Yes, we crossed over into Brooklyn, then up into Queens, took the Queensboro bridge over to Manhatten, which was a delight because you come into the city seeing 100,000 spectactors and they're all going crazy. What was really awesome about this marathon, along with the support, was the different nationalities represented. There were lots of people from Italy, Mexico, England and there were people in the crowd shouting out "Italia" and "Me-jico". The biggest representation though was the orange of Holland. The crowd all brought whistles and I saw a sea of orange and different points in the race. It was a amazing. Rounding out the course, we crossed one bridge into the Bronx and another back into Manhatten. I can't think of the names.
FS: Did the crowd help you?
M: Yeah, definitely and it was probably is what saved me.
FS: You struggled.
M: Yes I did. 3:38 and change, which is my third slowest time. I'd like to say that I was doing the course for fun, but I crashed, big time.
FS: What happened?
M: The short answer is that I'm probably a little out of shape and probably carrying 10-15 more pounds of weight than I'm used to. I'm not surpised by the result.
FS: Disappointed?
M: Yes and no. I hate seeing my times regress like that. I don't think anyone would. I do have this dream of Boston and that seems to be becoming more and more of a dream than reality. But I have to give myself some credit for gutting it out. There was a time when I thought my chances of breaking 3:40 were gone and I thought, "This will be my second worst time ever, my first being my first marathon". That's the power of positive thinking (ha ha). I actually walked for a few minutes during a couple of my last 6 miles, which were brutal. The the crowd inspired me to push on and I was able to salvage the race a bit.
FS: Did there come a point where you felt like you were going to crash completely?
M: Yeah, it did cross my mind. I see running a marthon similar to being shot out of a cannon.
FS: That's a interesting analogy.
M: Not that I know what that feels like, but a marathon starts with being launched out onto the course and the intitial feeling is one of exhileration. Your adrenaline is high. You're fresh. It feels great. But then there comes a time when you feel exposed. You're out there, your momentum is fading and it hits you that you're going to have to land at some point. A lot of the time, you can see where you're going to land and your body is in position to do so. Today I hit mile 20 and felt like I was all tangled up in the air and couldn't see where I was a going. I saw several people along the way that looked a lot more fit than I am and they had crashed completely. I saw one guy about my age lying in the middle of the road with police and paramedics around him and something like an oxygen tank, or whatever that was, hooked up to him. I sit here wondering how close I was to being that guy because I was competely wasted by that point. I wish I could have seen how I was a running because my stride was gone and I was in "shuffle" mode.
FS: It's sounding like you didn't have a fun day.
M: No, that's not true. I did. The course was beautiful, the spectators were awesome and I just gutted it out the best I could. Another thing that really kept me going was seeing this team called "Achilles". It was this pairing of a runner with someone that had a severe disability. I saw blind people being led and others with a leg missing. These people were the true heroes of the marathon. None of them had less than a smile on their faces and I know that it was quite a challenge for a lot them to get through the course. They were running on pure pride. I couldn't let my heavy legs take me down if they were going to eke it out like that.
FS: Would you run this marathon again?
M: Yes, but I think I need company next time. I've loved my stay here in New York and have enjoyed the time alone, but it would be a lot more fun to share the city with people I know.
FS: Any post race activities?
M: Yes, I took a walk down to Times Square to get my legs moving a bit, then took the subway to Little Italy where I had dinner at a place called "The Peasant", which isn't as cheap as it sounds. They have Tuscan specialities and I wanted some sort of a treat.
FS: How was it?
M: Very good. I had some risotto along with a couple glasses of wine and suddenly I was full, which was a shame because they had this pear torte with hazlenut gelato, which would have been heavenly. I liked the atmosphere there and in Little Italy/Noho in general. It's nice to get away from the tourist scene at Time Square and get more of a local feel. There were lots of younger folks around and sime nice little shops, bars and restaurants. Very charming area.
FS: Would you live in New York?
M: Good question. I think I would for a small stretch. Given that I could have some sort of a social network, which isn't always that easy to build, at least for me, I could probably stay there for a couple of years. I'd probably end up missing the California outdoors after a while, but I do like the charm of New York and it seems like outside of Times Square/Broadway there are some areas worth exploring. I think the next time I'm here I'd like to branch out a bit.
FS: Sounds like the trip was successful.
M: Yes it was. I covered a lot of ground in the half week I was here, seeing a couple shows, going to a couple big art museums, exploring central park, running a marathon and getting to Little Italy. Not bad. I'm fortunate to be able to make a trip like this and enjoy a lot of what this city has to offer.
FS: Indeed.
M: And thus ends my tour of the big apple. Thanks to those who have read my ramblings. Cheers.
Mark: The day started with a 4:30 AM wake up call, which I probably didn't need because it seemed like I barely slept a wink. Though I did feel very well rested. After getting up, I showered, put on the running gear, grabbed some food and other essentials and started working my way down to the NY public library, where the shuttles to Staten Island would be waiting. I ended up getting there by 5:30ish and was at Staten Island a little after 6. Again I was taken aback by the friendliness and enthusiasm of all of the marathon volunteers. They were excited to see the runners and one of them yelled out "There's no place like home, there's no place like home" to me in reference to my running shoes.
FS: I take it they're a nice ruby red.
M: Probably not ruby red, but definitely bright red. Quite a coincidence too, having just seen Wicked, which brings up those same ruby red shoes.
FS: So you're at your Staten Island and about ready to race.
M: Yes, but one of the early challenges was waiting for the race, which didn't start until 10:10.
FS: You were waiting for 4 hours?
M: Yeah. Pure torture...I ended up finding a curb, laying some plastic bags down on the wet grass and tried to take a nap. Maybe "Pure torture" overstates a bit, the time went faster than I thought it would and it didn't seem to long before they were lining us up in the shoot. Someone that I couldn't see sang the national anthem, mayor bloomberg said a few words and off went the gun or some explosion of some sort.
FS: Were people moving pretty well at the start?
M: Painfully slow actually, but I had read and heard several warnings about that happening. My first mile was about 10 minutes, which was halfway across the Verazzano bridge a beautiful crossing. There several boats in the bay firing water out of their hoses, some of the streams were colored. It was a pretty sight. Coming down the second half of the bridge, it started to open up a bit and I was able to run a sub 7. Towards the end of mile 3, it started to bottle neck again, though I was able to keep a decent pace at that time. What was kind of interesting about the race is that hey had 3 different shoots and it seemed that one of the shoots was running a slightly different course up until mile 8 or so, when we intersected. We were actually running side by side before that with their mile markers coming about a 200 yards past the ones I was running by.
FS: Did the course cover all 5 burroughs?
M: Yes, we crossed over into Brooklyn, then up into Queens, took the Queensboro bridge over to Manhatten, which was a delight because you come into the city seeing 100,000 spectactors and they're all going crazy. What was really awesome about this marathon, along with the support, was the different nationalities represented. There were lots of people from Italy, Mexico, England and there were people in the crowd shouting out "Italia" and "Me-jico". The biggest representation though was the orange of Holland. The crowd all brought whistles and I saw a sea of orange and different points in the race. It was a amazing. Rounding out the course, we crossed one bridge into the Bronx and another back into Manhatten. I can't think of the names.
FS: Did the crowd help you?
M: Yeah, definitely and it was probably is what saved me.
FS: You struggled.
M: Yes I did. 3:38 and change, which is my third slowest time. I'd like to say that I was doing the course for fun, but I crashed, big time.
FS: What happened?
M: The short answer is that I'm probably a little out of shape and probably carrying 10-15 more pounds of weight than I'm used to. I'm not surpised by the result.
FS: Disappointed?
M: Yes and no. I hate seeing my times regress like that. I don't think anyone would. I do have this dream of Boston and that seems to be becoming more and more of a dream than reality. But I have to give myself some credit for gutting it out. There was a time when I thought my chances of breaking 3:40 were gone and I thought, "This will be my second worst time ever, my first being my first marathon". That's the power of positive thinking (ha ha). I actually walked for a few minutes during a couple of my last 6 miles, which were brutal. The the crowd inspired me to push on and I was able to salvage the race a bit.
FS: Did there come a point where you felt like you were going to crash completely?
M: Yeah, it did cross my mind. I see running a marthon similar to being shot out of a cannon.
FS: That's a interesting analogy.
M: Not that I know what that feels like, but a marathon starts with being launched out onto the course and the intitial feeling is one of exhileration. Your adrenaline is high. You're fresh. It feels great. But then there comes a time when you feel exposed. You're out there, your momentum is fading and it hits you that you're going to have to land at some point. A lot of the time, you can see where you're going to land and your body is in position to do so. Today I hit mile 20 and felt like I was all tangled up in the air and couldn't see where I was a going. I saw several people along the way that looked a lot more fit than I am and they had crashed completely. I saw one guy about my age lying in the middle of the road with police and paramedics around him and something like an oxygen tank, or whatever that was, hooked up to him. I sit here wondering how close I was to being that guy because I was competely wasted by that point. I wish I could have seen how I was a running because my stride was gone and I was in "shuffle" mode.
FS: It's sounding like you didn't have a fun day.
M: No, that's not true. I did. The course was beautiful, the spectators were awesome and I just gutted it out the best I could. Another thing that really kept me going was seeing this team called "Achilles". It was this pairing of a runner with someone that had a severe disability. I saw blind people being led and others with a leg missing. These people were the true heroes of the marathon. None of them had less than a smile on their faces and I know that it was quite a challenge for a lot them to get through the course. They were running on pure pride. I couldn't let my heavy legs take me down if they were going to eke it out like that.
FS: Would you run this marathon again?
M: Yes, but I think I need company next time. I've loved my stay here in New York and have enjoyed the time alone, but it would be a lot more fun to share the city with people I know.
FS: Any post race activities?
M: Yes, I took a walk down to Times Square to get my legs moving a bit, then took the subway to Little Italy where I had dinner at a place called "The Peasant", which isn't as cheap as it sounds. They have Tuscan specialities and I wanted some sort of a treat.
FS: How was it?
M: Very good. I had some risotto along with a couple glasses of wine and suddenly I was full, which was a shame because they had this pear torte with hazlenut gelato, which would have been heavenly. I liked the atmosphere there and in Little Italy/Noho in general. It's nice to get away from the tourist scene at Time Square and get more of a local feel. There were lots of younger folks around and sime nice little shops, bars and restaurants. Very charming area.
FS: Would you live in New York?
M: Good question. I think I would for a small stretch. Given that I could have some sort of a social network, which isn't always that easy to build, at least for me, I could probably stay there for a couple of years. I'd probably end up missing the California outdoors after a while, but I do like the charm of New York and it seems like outside of Times Square/Broadway there are some areas worth exploring. I think the next time I'm here I'd like to branch out a bit.
FS: Sounds like the trip was successful.
M: Yes it was. I covered a lot of ground in the half week I was here, seeing a couple shows, going to a couple big art museums, exploring central park, running a marathon and getting to Little Italy. Not bad. I'm fortunate to be able to make a trip like this and enjoy a lot of what this city has to offer.
FS: Indeed.
M: And thus ends my tour of the big apple. Thanks to those who have read my ramblings. Cheers.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
11/5 - Day before the big day
Since I'm sitting here the night before the marathon and would like to hit the sack as soon as possible, I'll make this post relatively quick and without the interview format I had been using.
Today was a relatively slow day, as it should be, leading up to a marathon. I did a lot more walking than I probably should have, but we'll see how that plays tomorrow. I started the day with a walk to Barney Green's on Amsterdam Ave in the upper west side of Manhatten. I was looking for a good breakfast spot and this place was recommended by a NY website. Remember how I said that I've been noticing a lot of diversity while in New York? Well, that changes quite a bit when you go to the upper west side of Manhatten. That area seemed very white to me. But anyway, the breakfast spot was this little hole in the wall that seemed to be filled with locals, which is exactly the kind of place I want. I have to admit though that the menu was a bit intimidating to me, not in price, but in some unusual items like a "Toungue Omlette" and handfull of meals with chopped liver being one of the items. I saw a fair amount of pickled foods as well. Yes indeed, I was a kosher diner and my appetite wasn't exactly inspired by what they had to offer. Still, I rallied and came up with an order of a pastrami and swiss omlette, which wasn't all that bad, though I really liked the toasted bagel with cream cheese that came with it. Those New Yorkers really know how to bagel. I was impressed with the service at the place, when I asked, "Do you have orange juice", the guy said, "Just for you we do. " Very friendly place and I'm glad that I made the visit.
I walked back to my hotel, coming through Central Park, which reminds me of the way my morning really started. Bright and early for me, at 8 AM, I heard some noises outside of window and looked out onto the street. There was a race going on. No, it wasn't the marathon (ha ha). I think they had some sort of 5K or 10K going on that brought in more participants to the marathon weekend. I saw people running with flags from their home countries, I saw Brazil, France, Italy to name a few. It was a nice sight and I was able to see a lot more people as I made my way to breakfast.
So after I rested in the hotel, I made my way to the Gershwin Theater on W 51st street, the current home of Wicked, the other musical I had purchased a ticket for. It's a nice little theater, I think even a little better in terms of seating than the Shubert. I was smack dab in the middle of the theater, a very nice seat to be in, though I was regretting during the first act to some extent. Towards the end of the first act, my knees started to ache. It seems that theaters of this type are not really designed so that you stretch your legs a bit, they're designed for maximum capacity, and I was payin' for it. What's weird is that I started to sweat a little bit, which I wonder if that may have been a little bit of claustraphobia, which I don't think I've experienced, but I guess I did feel a bit trapped and uncomfortable. But enough of that, I should focus on the show. The first act itself was decent, though I'd say that the second act much, much better and it would have been a shame had I decided to skip out on it, which I was actually contemplating doing, given the way I felt in the first act. But some stretching helped a lot and again I was able to tough through it. Imagine, having to "tough through" a musical (ha ha). Wicked is a show that's playing in several cities and is essential a prequel and a variation on the Wizard of Oz story. I thought it was pretty creative and a fun story to follow. I had a hard time hearing some of the musicals when they had multiple people singing. I'm not sure what my problem was, but I had to strain at times to figure out what they were singing. The solos were much clearer.
After the show, I raced back to the hotel to watch my Badgers get sacked by Penn St. I then went for a walk to get some breakfast food for tomorrow and now I'm ready to turn in. My shuttle leaves at around 6 AM tomorrow, so I had best get to bed early. I'm having trouble believing that I'll be doing another 26.2 miles, but am looking forward to the run., which I'm hoping to write positively on tomorrow...til then
Today was a relatively slow day, as it should be, leading up to a marathon. I did a lot more walking than I probably should have, but we'll see how that plays tomorrow. I started the day with a walk to Barney Green's on Amsterdam Ave in the upper west side of Manhatten. I was looking for a good breakfast spot and this place was recommended by a NY website. Remember how I said that I've been noticing a lot of diversity while in New York? Well, that changes quite a bit when you go to the upper west side of Manhatten. That area seemed very white to me. But anyway, the breakfast spot was this little hole in the wall that seemed to be filled with locals, which is exactly the kind of place I want. I have to admit though that the menu was a bit intimidating to me, not in price, but in some unusual items like a "Toungue Omlette" and handfull of meals with chopped liver being one of the items. I saw a fair amount of pickled foods as well. Yes indeed, I was a kosher diner and my appetite wasn't exactly inspired by what they had to offer. Still, I rallied and came up with an order of a pastrami and swiss omlette, which wasn't all that bad, though I really liked the toasted bagel with cream cheese that came with it. Those New Yorkers really know how to bagel. I was impressed with the service at the place, when I asked, "Do you have orange juice", the guy said, "Just for you we do. " Very friendly place and I'm glad that I made the visit.
I walked back to my hotel, coming through Central Park, which reminds me of the way my morning really started. Bright and early for me, at 8 AM, I heard some noises outside of window and looked out onto the street. There was a race going on. No, it wasn't the marathon (ha ha). I think they had some sort of 5K or 10K going on that brought in more participants to the marathon weekend. I saw people running with flags from their home countries, I saw Brazil, France, Italy to name a few. It was a nice sight and I was able to see a lot more people as I made my way to breakfast.
So after I rested in the hotel, I made my way to the Gershwin Theater on W 51st street, the current home of Wicked, the other musical I had purchased a ticket for. It's a nice little theater, I think even a little better in terms of seating than the Shubert. I was smack dab in the middle of the theater, a very nice seat to be in, though I was regretting during the first act to some extent. Towards the end of the first act, my knees started to ache. It seems that theaters of this type are not really designed so that you stretch your legs a bit, they're designed for maximum capacity, and I was payin' for it. What's weird is that I started to sweat a little bit, which I wonder if that may have been a little bit of claustraphobia, which I don't think I've experienced, but I guess I did feel a bit trapped and uncomfortable. But enough of that, I should focus on the show. The first act itself was decent, though I'd say that the second act much, much better and it would have been a shame had I decided to skip out on it, which I was actually contemplating doing, given the way I felt in the first act. But some stretching helped a lot and again I was able to tough through it. Imagine, having to "tough through" a musical (ha ha). Wicked is a show that's playing in several cities and is essential a prequel and a variation on the Wizard of Oz story. I thought it was pretty creative and a fun story to follow. I had a hard time hearing some of the musicals when they had multiple people singing. I'm not sure what my problem was, but I had to strain at times to figure out what they were singing. The solos were much clearer.
After the show, I raced back to the hotel to watch my Badgers get sacked by Penn St. I then went for a walk to get some breakfast food for tomorrow and now I'm ready to turn in. My shuttle leaves at around 6 AM tomorrow, so I had best get to bed early. I'm having trouble believing that I'll be doing another 26.2 miles, but am looking forward to the run., which I'm hoping to write positively on tomorrow...til then
Friday, November 04, 2005
11/4, NY trip continues
Let's try the self interview technique again...
Foothill Scrambler: Welcome back to an interview on the continued adventures of Mark in New York. How are you doing today sir?
Mark: Wiped out, which I think is good thing. It means that I covered quite a bit of territory.
FS: Let's start from the beginning. What did you do after you got up today?
M: First of all, I can't believe how slowly I'm acclamating to the Eastern Time Zone at 10:00 AM, I was still completely exhausted and barely was able to get out of bed under my own power.
FS: That doesn't bode well for Sunday.
M: No, not at all, at least at this rate. I need to get to bed earlier so I can have chance of getting up on time. So you asked me what I did after finally awakening. I felt like I needed to break a good sweat and what better place to do that than Central Park. I put on the running gear and started heading north through the heart of the park, which also happened to be part of the marathon course. I saw mile markers for 24 and 25 and when I was walking back I even saw the finish area. I usually don't like to see the finish area. For some reason it just seems like bad like, kind of like seeing the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding.
FS: That's an interesting analogy. Has it bitten you in the past.
M: No, but there's something that bothers me about seeing the finish before I've gone and done the race. Anywho, so I ran about 3-4 miles northward through the park, running with my camera so that I could snap some shots on the way back. I saw a fair amount of runners actually, some seeming to be doing during their lunch time and others probably tourists like me. It was great see. After I built up a bit of a sweat, I pulled the plug and started walking back.
FS: How has the weather been?
M: Beautiful. I couldn't ask for better weather out here. Yesterday it was in the low 60's the whole day and today I think it even hit around 70. It's been sunny and warm and just wonderful, especially going through the park.
FS: Are the fall colors still around?
M: Yes! One thing I remember from my trip to NY last year was that Central Park was still blooming with lots of color even in the middle of November. It seems like it takes the park a little longer to move from fall to winter with respect to the foliage. I took a ton of pictures.
FS: Where were the nicest spots to be?
M: I really loved this area called "The Reservoir". I have no idea if it has another name, but that's what it says on my map and that's what it says on the park map. It's this nice round body of water that is about as wide as the park itself and has a nice dirt path all the way around it. It also has trees lined all the way around its circumference and with the colors still being around its like having a yellow, orange and red wreath draped around it. Gorgeous.
FS: Anything else stick out about the park?
M: Yeah, I think what I enjoyed even more was this area called the "The Lawn" - I know they use very dinstinct names - that was just south of this pretty little pond called turtle pond and just to the south of that is this Belvedere Castle.
FS: A castle in Central Park?
M: Yeah, a little one. Very cool. You can climb up this inner spiral stone stair case to the top and get this gorgeous view of the pond the lawn, where people are all out taking in the day. I saw a lot of mothers with strollers, lots of couples and lots of families out there. It made me forget that I was in the middle of a city.
FS: How does Central Park compare with Golden Gate Park.
M: Wow, that's a good question. I'd first say that it's very comparable. With the little ponds and lakes that this park has along with all of the beautiful athletic fields, along with an ice skating ring, I'd have to give the nod to Central Park. Part of it may have to do with the fact that it's fall here, which makes the park so much more spectactular I'm sure. Maybe if I went back to Golden Gate park my vote would sway, but man, this park is awesome.
FS: After you left this Oz-like place, what was next on the agenda?
M: After leaving the park, I finally convinced myself to go to the NY Marathon Expo, something I had been putting off.
FS: To pick up your bib and chip?
M: You got it. And to pick up some GU, body glide, all that good stuff. I was almost run over by a car on the way there.
FS: No kidding?
M: I'm noticing that NY drivers don't really respect pedestrians one bit. I think Californians are spoiled by the fact that that cars generally stop at cross walks. In Wisconsin, this isn't a law, so I'm fairly used to being on my guard before crossing, but New York takes it up a notch. I had the "walk" sign when crossing over to Jaccobs Convention Center and it wasn't like it turned to a blinking "Don't Walk" I had it the whole way, but this van decides to take a left turn right in front me and my elbow actully bumped into it. And the funny thing was, is that the guy was pissed at me. I mean, fuck you! I had the right of way all the way asshole.
FS: Geez.
M: But all of that hostility went away as I walked through the admission area of the expo. This guy took my ID and said, "Mountain View, huh? I know that place. Is this your first marathon?"..."No, I've done a few"..."Awesome...well, we have some nice California-like weather for you, so you should do fine" I got the same kind of treatment from the person that gave me my bib and chip and goodie bag. Very friendly.
FS: So it was good expo?
M: Probably the best I've ever been too. One noticeable thing is that carpet they used was softer than anything I've walked on in a long time, very easy on the feet. I guess it behooves them to keep people around, buying some additional gear, but I really appreciated that walking surface. It's not something you really consider. I also noticed a booth that was advertising the marathon for Prague. Wow, what a beautiful looking city. It reminded me of Dresden, Germany, which is supposed to be a "sister city". I've heard a lot of good things about Prague, but seeing a nice arial shot with people running the course, I'd have to say I've filed that marathon away into my list future races.
FS: What came next?
M: Next I was on the way to MOMA for its free Friday night entry.
FS: Did you grab anything good to eat before going there?
M: Yes, actually one thing I forgot to mention was that I took a walk through Hell's Kitchen on the way to the expo. To be honest, and this is a bit embarrassing, but I don't know why it's called that. I've just heard about it and saw it on my map. I did notice that there were many restaurants, including many "to go" type of venues all along 9th avenue as I was heading to pick up my bib, which was at 11th Ave and 38 St. On the way, this burger joint caught my eye, a place called "Island Burgers and Shakes" . I noticed it was Zagat approved, for what that's worth, but also had a picture of a cute local anchor woman, who signed and said something like "Thanks for the best beef in town". Good enough for this burger eater.
FS: Did it work out?
M: Yeah, definitely. Tasted very home made, not having this perfect circle, disk type of shape, just a good chunk of meet with some nice swiss on top. It really hit the spot.
FS: Back to MOMA, what was that experience like?
M: For starters, I needed to weave my way through this enormous line, which my friend Chris said I would find. But what he also said was true, in that the line moved really fast and I was in like flynn in no time in no time. What I noticed as I went through the line, passing many people weaving their way by, was that I hardly heard any english being spoken. I heard lots of French, German, Spanish, Russian and who knows what else. It reminded me of being in some of the more popular tourist spots in San Francisco, only I think more amplified. Just such a huge international scene.
FS: Not suprising. Go on.
M: Sure. like the Metropolitan, MOMA is huge. They have 6 floors of exhibits and two cafes and believe it or not, in the 4 hours that I had to work with, I covered every floor. Maybe I wasn't in every room, but I did a pretty comprehensive job on every floor, except maybe 4, which I skipped to get to the special exhibits at the top after floor 3 and worked my way back down.
FS: What did you like?
M: One of the special exhibits contained some works by Elizabeth Murray, whom I've never heard of before, but was very impressed. It's very hard to characterize her work, as is true with most modern artists I think. Actually I have know idea what I'm talking about, but that sounded good (ha ha). Apparently she was inspired by people like Picasso and Matisse having somewhat of a "cubist" theme apparently. She seemed to be focusing on everyday objects and took them to abstract levels, which also appears to be a goal for most artists that do "modern art". I took a few pictures of her work, which is something I've never done before in an art museum, but I saw others doing it and security wasn't bothered, so I said, what the hell, let's take some shots.
FS: What else caught your eye?
M: There was a big exhibit by Odilan Redon, another artist I had never heard of, but seems to be quite famous in the classic sense. He had this set of paintings that fell under a genre called "noir". These were mainly black and white and focused on mysticism, christianity in parts, monster, ghosts, etc. He seemed very appropriate for a Halloween exhibit. He also had a fair amount of pastel paintings as well, with some brighter subjects, but still some of the same themes. Apparently he moved from black and white to color later in his career, which reminded me of Van Gogh. It was said that he had really mastered the black and white to the point that he could really do no more.
FS: So you liked his stuff?
M: Yes I did. You know it's funny though, I kinda whipped through a lot of his paintings until I started reading what was written about him. I think I really need the background before I can start to truy appreciate the works of an artist. I can't simply look at a painting and make a fair judgement, which may sound a little strange, but I feel like I need a little more input before I decide how I feel about a painting. Maybe it shouldn't be that way, but that's just the way it is.
FS: What else did you discover in your four hours there?
M: Picasso. They had a terrific exhibit of his work. In particular, they had this huge painting called the "Three Musicians" which featured himself, dressed as a harlequin, flanked by two of his friends and a dog. Very abstract, maybe cubist in genre. I don't know. But I really liked it, to the point that I'd like to find that print online, which is something I don't generally do. He had himself playing a guitar and his friend was playing wind instrument of some sort, like a clarinet and they had this sheet music all broken up and off to the right. It just looked very cool. I notice Picasso uses musical instruments, especially guitars, in a lot of his paintings. I like that.
FS: Any other surprises?
M: I noticed a sculpture that looked very similar to one in the San Francisco MOMA and sure enough, it was called the "blonde negress, 2" done by this artist named Brancusi. I remember that name of the sculpture in the SF site and it's always been appealing. It looks a lot like an owl , which I don't think was the intent, but who cares. That's what I see. Owls are one my favorite animals and this sculpture kind of reminds me of the mechanical owl found in the Clash of the Titans, only this sculpture is much more elegant. Another thing that suprised me at the museum is that they have "Starry Night" by Van Gogh, which I was able to snap a picture of. I didn't know that they had it.
FS: Again, you look like you're about to nod off to sleep...probably best to get some rest and do this another time.
M: Agreed.
FS: Good night all.
Foothill Scrambler: Welcome back to an interview on the continued adventures of Mark in New York. How are you doing today sir?
Mark: Wiped out, which I think is good thing. It means that I covered quite a bit of territory.
FS: Let's start from the beginning. What did you do after you got up today?
M: First of all, I can't believe how slowly I'm acclamating to the Eastern Time Zone at 10:00 AM, I was still completely exhausted and barely was able to get out of bed under my own power.
FS: That doesn't bode well for Sunday.
M: No, not at all, at least at this rate. I need to get to bed earlier so I can have chance of getting up on time. So you asked me what I did after finally awakening. I felt like I needed to break a good sweat and what better place to do that than Central Park. I put on the running gear and started heading north through the heart of the park, which also happened to be part of the marathon course. I saw mile markers for 24 and 25 and when I was walking back I even saw the finish area. I usually don't like to see the finish area. For some reason it just seems like bad like, kind of like seeing the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding.
FS: That's an interesting analogy. Has it bitten you in the past.
M: No, but there's something that bothers me about seeing the finish before I've gone and done the race. Anywho, so I ran about 3-4 miles northward through the park, running with my camera so that I could snap some shots on the way back. I saw a fair amount of runners actually, some seeming to be doing during their lunch time and others probably tourists like me. It was great see. After I built up a bit of a sweat, I pulled the plug and started walking back.
FS: How has the weather been?
M: Beautiful. I couldn't ask for better weather out here. Yesterday it was in the low 60's the whole day and today I think it even hit around 70. It's been sunny and warm and just wonderful, especially going through the park.
FS: Are the fall colors still around?
M: Yes! One thing I remember from my trip to NY last year was that Central Park was still blooming with lots of color even in the middle of November. It seems like it takes the park a little longer to move from fall to winter with respect to the foliage. I took a ton of pictures.
FS: Where were the nicest spots to be?
M: I really loved this area called "The Reservoir". I have no idea if it has another name, but that's what it says on my map and that's what it says on the park map. It's this nice round body of water that is about as wide as the park itself and has a nice dirt path all the way around it. It also has trees lined all the way around its circumference and with the colors still being around its like having a yellow, orange and red wreath draped around it. Gorgeous.
FS: Anything else stick out about the park?
M: Yeah, I think what I enjoyed even more was this area called the "The Lawn" - I know they use very dinstinct names - that was just south of this pretty little pond called turtle pond and just to the south of that is this Belvedere Castle.
FS: A castle in Central Park?
M: Yeah, a little one. Very cool. You can climb up this inner spiral stone stair case to the top and get this gorgeous view of the pond the lawn, where people are all out taking in the day. I saw a lot of mothers with strollers, lots of couples and lots of families out there. It made me forget that I was in the middle of a city.
FS: How does Central Park compare with Golden Gate Park.
M: Wow, that's a good question. I'd first say that it's very comparable. With the little ponds and lakes that this park has along with all of the beautiful athletic fields, along with an ice skating ring, I'd have to give the nod to Central Park. Part of it may have to do with the fact that it's fall here, which makes the park so much more spectactular I'm sure. Maybe if I went back to Golden Gate park my vote would sway, but man, this park is awesome.
FS: After you left this Oz-like place, what was next on the agenda?
M: After leaving the park, I finally convinced myself to go to the NY Marathon Expo, something I had been putting off.
FS: To pick up your bib and chip?
M: You got it. And to pick up some GU, body glide, all that good stuff. I was almost run over by a car on the way there.
FS: No kidding?
M: I'm noticing that NY drivers don't really respect pedestrians one bit. I think Californians are spoiled by the fact that that cars generally stop at cross walks. In Wisconsin, this isn't a law, so I'm fairly used to being on my guard before crossing, but New York takes it up a notch. I had the "walk" sign when crossing over to Jaccobs Convention Center and it wasn't like it turned to a blinking "Don't Walk" I had it the whole way, but this van decides to take a left turn right in front me and my elbow actully bumped into it. And the funny thing was, is that the guy was pissed at me. I mean, fuck you! I had the right of way all the way asshole.
FS: Geez.
M: But all of that hostility went away as I walked through the admission area of the expo. This guy took my ID and said, "Mountain View, huh? I know that place. Is this your first marathon?"..."No, I've done a few"..."Awesome...well, we have some nice California-like weather for you, so you should do fine" I got the same kind of treatment from the person that gave me my bib and chip and goodie bag. Very friendly.
FS: So it was good expo?
M: Probably the best I've ever been too. One noticeable thing is that carpet they used was softer than anything I've walked on in a long time, very easy on the feet. I guess it behooves them to keep people around, buying some additional gear, but I really appreciated that walking surface. It's not something you really consider. I also noticed a booth that was advertising the marathon for Prague. Wow, what a beautiful looking city. It reminded me of Dresden, Germany, which is supposed to be a "sister city". I've heard a lot of good things about Prague, but seeing a nice arial shot with people running the course, I'd have to say I've filed that marathon away into my list future races.
FS: What came next?
M: Next I was on the way to MOMA for its free Friday night entry.
FS: Did you grab anything good to eat before going there?
M: Yes, actually one thing I forgot to mention was that I took a walk through Hell's Kitchen on the way to the expo. To be honest, and this is a bit embarrassing, but I don't know why it's called that. I've just heard about it and saw it on my map. I did notice that there were many restaurants, including many "to go" type of venues all along 9th avenue as I was heading to pick up my bib, which was at 11th Ave and 38 St. On the way, this burger joint caught my eye, a place called "Island Burgers and Shakes" . I noticed it was Zagat approved, for what that's worth, but also had a picture of a cute local anchor woman, who signed and said something like "Thanks for the best beef in town". Good enough for this burger eater.
FS: Did it work out?
M: Yeah, definitely. Tasted very home made, not having this perfect circle, disk type of shape, just a good chunk of meet with some nice swiss on top. It really hit the spot.
FS: Back to MOMA, what was that experience like?
M: For starters, I needed to weave my way through this enormous line, which my friend Chris said I would find. But what he also said was true, in that the line moved really fast and I was in like flynn in no time in no time. What I noticed as I went through the line, passing many people weaving their way by, was that I hardly heard any english being spoken. I heard lots of French, German, Spanish, Russian and who knows what else. It reminded me of being in some of the more popular tourist spots in San Francisco, only I think more amplified. Just such a huge international scene.
FS: Not suprising. Go on.
M: Sure. like the Metropolitan, MOMA is huge. They have 6 floors of exhibits and two cafes and believe it or not, in the 4 hours that I had to work with, I covered every floor. Maybe I wasn't in every room, but I did a pretty comprehensive job on every floor, except maybe 4, which I skipped to get to the special exhibits at the top after floor 3 and worked my way back down.
FS: What did you like?
M: One of the special exhibits contained some works by Elizabeth Murray, whom I've never heard of before, but was very impressed. It's very hard to characterize her work, as is true with most modern artists I think. Actually I have know idea what I'm talking about, but that sounded good (ha ha). Apparently she was inspired by people like Picasso and Matisse having somewhat of a "cubist" theme apparently. She seemed to be focusing on everyday objects and took them to abstract levels, which also appears to be a goal for most artists that do "modern art". I took a few pictures of her work, which is something I've never done before in an art museum, but I saw others doing it and security wasn't bothered, so I said, what the hell, let's take some shots.
FS: What else caught your eye?
M: There was a big exhibit by Odilan Redon, another artist I had never heard of, but seems to be quite famous in the classic sense. He had this set of paintings that fell under a genre called "noir". These were mainly black and white and focused on mysticism, christianity in parts, monster, ghosts, etc. He seemed very appropriate for a Halloween exhibit. He also had a fair amount of pastel paintings as well, with some brighter subjects, but still some of the same themes. Apparently he moved from black and white to color later in his career, which reminded me of Van Gogh. It was said that he had really mastered the black and white to the point that he could really do no more.
FS: So you liked his stuff?
M: Yes I did. You know it's funny though, I kinda whipped through a lot of his paintings until I started reading what was written about him. I think I really need the background before I can start to truy appreciate the works of an artist. I can't simply look at a painting and make a fair judgement, which may sound a little strange, but I feel like I need a little more input before I decide how I feel about a painting. Maybe it shouldn't be that way, but that's just the way it is.
FS: What else did you discover in your four hours there?
M: Picasso. They had a terrific exhibit of his work. In particular, they had this huge painting called the "Three Musicians" which featured himself, dressed as a harlequin, flanked by two of his friends and a dog. Very abstract, maybe cubist in genre. I don't know. But I really liked it, to the point that I'd like to find that print online, which is something I don't generally do. He had himself playing a guitar and his friend was playing wind instrument of some sort, like a clarinet and they had this sheet music all broken up and off to the right. It just looked very cool. I notice Picasso uses musical instruments, especially guitars, in a lot of his paintings. I like that.
FS: Any other surprises?
M: I noticed a sculpture that looked very similar to one in the San Francisco MOMA and sure enough, it was called the "blonde negress, 2" done by this artist named Brancusi. I remember that name of the sculpture in the SF site and it's always been appealing. It looks a lot like an owl , which I don't think was the intent, but who cares. That's what I see. Owls are one my favorite animals and this sculpture kind of reminds me of the mechanical owl found in the Clash of the Titans, only this sculpture is much more elegant. Another thing that suprised me at the museum is that they have "Starry Night" by Van Gogh, which I was able to snap a picture of. I didn't know that they had it.
FS: Again, you look like you're about to nod off to sleep...probably best to get some rest and do this another time.
M: Agreed.
FS: Good night all.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Rest of 11/3
As I read through my first BLOG on the trip to NY, I find that it's pretty damn boring. I guess I just kinda whipped it up without editting content, which may explain for some of it. Rather than ramble on about the rest of my night, I'd like to experiment with a new format: a self interview. Bear with me.
Foothill Scrambler: So Mark, last time you had left a BLOG entry you were on your way to spamalot, leaving your readers hanging.
Mark: Yes, sorry about that. Time seemed to get away from me and suddenly I needed to high tail it to the Shubert Theater.
FS: You had mentioned that you were going to say something about the Metropolitan Art Mueseum. What prompted you to go there?
M: Good question. My original goal on this trip was to be able to hit the MOMA and the Guggenheim museum, but as I was working my way through Central Park ending up on a stretch called "Museum Way", I came across this other museum that I hadn't really thought of. My initial reaction to it was that I could add it to my list and possibly hit it on one of the mornings, but as I walked passed it, I noticed an ad it had put out for "Van Gogh: The Drawings". It slowed me in my tracks a bit and as I walked further I saw another big ad for it and decided that I had to see it.
FS: Are you a fan of Van Gogh?
M: I'm not sure what you characterize as being a fan of an artist. I do like a lot of his works. I enjoy the intensity that his paintings seem to posess. I typically don't like to go to museums just for the sake of going to museums. I felt that this was something that had caught my eye and interest and I didn't want to regret not checking it out. Good job to this museum for pulling this sucker in.
FS: Sucker? Did it end up being a waste of time?
M: Not at all. I'm just being funny. I really enjoyed the exhibit, seeing works that he had done prior to his more well known pieces. He was trying to get black and drawings down well before he moved to color. I learned quite a few things about him that I didn't know.
FS: Such as?
M: He had a brother named Theo who was a art dealer whom he exchanged many letters with as he was studying and working in France. They even had a few of these letters on display. He talked a bit about the difficulty of bringing colorless drawings to life. He was very interested in vitalizing the common people that he had captured on canvas and wished to bring that same life to the landscapes the he had painted. He felt that all life is intertwined and should be represented that way.
FS: What else did you learn?
M: A couple things come to mind. They showed several iterations of some of his sketches and paintings, some starting out as being very rough and he recognized that, saying so in his letters. You could see the process that he had go through, something you don't generally associate with great artists. I think we have this notion, or at least I do, that artists just suddenly produce this amazing art, just by making a few broad strokes onto their canvas. Obviously Van Gogh was a genius, but he struggled. He taught himself how to paint and went through plenty of growing pains. The other thing that comes to mind is that on one of the museum write ups it was stated that he died of a "self inflicted gunshot wound". It was funny to me how that was written. Like, isn't that suicide? Regardless, I knew that he had spent the end of his life in asylum and had lopped a good chunk of his ear off, but I didn't realize that he had caused his own demise.
FS: Did you try any of the other exhibits?
M: Yes I did. One thing I should say is that this museum is enormous to the point that you can get lost in it. It took me a while to find the exit and that was after people started heading for it at the close. They seem to have a little (or actually a lot) of everything. One minute I felt like I was back in an Italian museum, looking at renaissance art, which does seem to get a little boring after a while to me. How many times can I look at the virgin Mary, Jesus and John the Bapist?
FS: Probably gets a little old, huh.
M: yeah...but next the next minute I'm looking at South American gold crafts from pre-Columbian times. I mainly gravitated to the stuff I knew though. They have a nice Picasso collection that I spent a fair amount of time in. They also have this great exhibit on Santiago Calatrava, known primarily for his architecture, but they had a lot of cool sculptures from him. I know squat about archicture and sculpting. The only way I know his name is that he designed the Milwaukee Art Meseum( http://www.mam.org/thebuilding/index.htm) and it turns out he designed a lot of the sports facilities used in Athens for the olympic games. He has a very exciting style to take in. I was proud of myself...As I was walking out I noticed a sculpture that looked very much like the Burghers of Calais, which is what Stanford has a sculpture garden of. Sure enough, it was it, recast.
FS: Well done Sherlock. So you're looking kinda sleepy my friend. Is it bed time?
M: Yes, but I can probably talk a bit about spamalot before I sign off.
FS: Exellent. Do tell.
M: I very much enjoyed the show, in the Shubert Theater, an old-time theater just off Broadway on 44th Street. If you enjoy Monty Python's Search for the Holy Grail, you'll enjoy this. They have many of the schticks from the movie, which are fun to relive, and this show also has a nice contemporary feel to it as well some self awarness that makes it fun. David Hyde Pearce and Tim Curry lead a very good cast, including a main actress Sara Ramirez, who I believe has won a Tony. She was terrific (great voice and very funny) and pretty easy on the eyes as well.
FS: So you would recommend this show?
M: Definitely, though I think you need to be a fan of this type of humor. There was a guy sitting next to me that didn't laugh one ounce during the whole show. Some people just don't really get british humor. If it's not your cup of tea, you may be better off finding another show.
Before I head off to bed, I should mention that I made a late night visit to serendipity 3, a dessert place that my girl friend had told me about and warned that I shouldn't go there without her. Naturually I paid a visit and have no regrets. They have this "frozen hot chocolate" that they're known for, so I went for one (peanut butter frozen hot chocolate, actually) and it's very tasty. Just imagine kind of a chocolate smoothie type of thing with whipped cream, cocoa sprinkles and peanut butter mixed in. mmmmmmmmmmmm...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
FS: Well, I think this interview is over. Thank you all for reading.
Foothill Scrambler: So Mark, last time you had left a BLOG entry you were on your way to spamalot, leaving your readers hanging.
Mark: Yes, sorry about that. Time seemed to get away from me and suddenly I needed to high tail it to the Shubert Theater.
FS: You had mentioned that you were going to say something about the Metropolitan Art Mueseum. What prompted you to go there?
M: Good question. My original goal on this trip was to be able to hit the MOMA and the Guggenheim museum, but as I was working my way through Central Park ending up on a stretch called "Museum Way", I came across this other museum that I hadn't really thought of. My initial reaction to it was that I could add it to my list and possibly hit it on one of the mornings, but as I walked passed it, I noticed an ad it had put out for "Van Gogh: The Drawings". It slowed me in my tracks a bit and as I walked further I saw another big ad for it and decided that I had to see it.
FS: Are you a fan of Van Gogh?
M: I'm not sure what you characterize as being a fan of an artist. I do like a lot of his works. I enjoy the intensity that his paintings seem to posess. I typically don't like to go to museums just for the sake of going to museums. I felt that this was something that had caught my eye and interest and I didn't want to regret not checking it out. Good job to this museum for pulling this sucker in.
FS: Sucker? Did it end up being a waste of time?
M: Not at all. I'm just being funny. I really enjoyed the exhibit, seeing works that he had done prior to his more well known pieces. He was trying to get black and drawings down well before he moved to color. I learned quite a few things about him that I didn't know.
FS: Such as?
M: He had a brother named Theo who was a art dealer whom he exchanged many letters with as he was studying and working in France. They even had a few of these letters on display. He talked a bit about the difficulty of bringing colorless drawings to life. He was very interested in vitalizing the common people that he had captured on canvas and wished to bring that same life to the landscapes the he had painted. He felt that all life is intertwined and should be represented that way.
FS: What else did you learn?
M: A couple things come to mind. They showed several iterations of some of his sketches and paintings, some starting out as being very rough and he recognized that, saying so in his letters. You could see the process that he had go through, something you don't generally associate with great artists. I think we have this notion, or at least I do, that artists just suddenly produce this amazing art, just by making a few broad strokes onto their canvas. Obviously Van Gogh was a genius, but he struggled. He taught himself how to paint and went through plenty of growing pains. The other thing that comes to mind is that on one of the museum write ups it was stated that he died of a "self inflicted gunshot wound". It was funny to me how that was written. Like, isn't that suicide? Regardless, I knew that he had spent the end of his life in asylum and had lopped a good chunk of his ear off, but I didn't realize that he had caused his own demise.
FS: Did you try any of the other exhibits?
M: Yes I did. One thing I should say is that this museum is enormous to the point that you can get lost in it. It took me a while to find the exit and that was after people started heading for it at the close. They seem to have a little (or actually a lot) of everything. One minute I felt like I was back in an Italian museum, looking at renaissance art, which does seem to get a little boring after a while to me. How many times can I look at the virgin Mary, Jesus and John the Bapist?
FS: Probably gets a little old, huh.
M: yeah...but next the next minute I'm looking at South American gold crafts from pre-Columbian times. I mainly gravitated to the stuff I knew though. They have a nice Picasso collection that I spent a fair amount of time in. They also have this great exhibit on Santiago Calatrava, known primarily for his architecture, but they had a lot of cool sculptures from him. I know squat about archicture and sculpting. The only way I know his name is that he designed the Milwaukee Art Meseum( http://www.mam.org/thebuilding/index.htm) and it turns out he designed a lot of the sports facilities used in Athens for the olympic games. He has a very exciting style to take in. I was proud of myself...As I was walking out I noticed a sculpture that looked very much like the Burghers of Calais, which is what Stanford has a sculpture garden of. Sure enough, it was it, recast.
FS: Well done Sherlock. So you're looking kinda sleepy my friend. Is it bed time?
M: Yes, but I can probably talk a bit about spamalot before I sign off.
FS: Exellent. Do tell.
M: I very much enjoyed the show, in the Shubert Theater, an old-time theater just off Broadway on 44th Street. If you enjoy Monty Python's Search for the Holy Grail, you'll enjoy this. They have many of the schticks from the movie, which are fun to relive, and this show also has a nice contemporary feel to it as well some self awarness that makes it fun. David Hyde Pearce and Tim Curry lead a very good cast, including a main actress Sara Ramirez, who I believe has won a Tony. She was terrific (great voice and very funny) and pretty easy on the eyes as well.
FS: So you would recommend this show?
M: Definitely, though I think you need to be a fan of this type of humor. There was a guy sitting next to me that didn't laugh one ounce during the whole show. Some people just don't really get british humor. If it's not your cup of tea, you may be better off finding another show.
Before I head off to bed, I should mention that I made a late night visit to serendipity 3, a dessert place that my girl friend had told me about and warned that I shouldn't go there without her. Naturually I paid a visit and have no regrets. They have this "frozen hot chocolate" that they're known for, so I went for one (peanut butter frozen hot chocolate, actually) and it's very tasty. Just imagine kind of a chocolate smoothie type of thing with whipped cream, cocoa sprinkles and peanut butter mixed in. mmmmmmmmmmmm...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
FS: Well, I think this interview is over. Thank you all for reading.
New York day 1 and a half
I took my trip from SFO to JFK on Wednesday and it was completely uneventful, which is the way I like plane travel, or any travel for that matter. We made it to JFK in a shocking 4 hours and 45 minutes, which I didn't think was possible, but the pilot mentioned that we had a nice tail wind at our back and maybe that's the usual result of something like that. The things that I noticed right away as I walked from the deplaning ramp to the baggage claim was more diversity in the people than I'm used to, which feels funny for me to say, feeling like the Bay Area has a fairly diverse set of folks. But I guess coming from white bread Wisconsin, there are definitely different levels of diversity. The two groups which seemed more represented were those of Jewish descent, which wasn't too surprising, but still somewhat eyeopening to see folks dressed competely in black with the black top hat (not sure that should be called) and long beards, and those of African American descent. For whatever reason, you just don't see many black people in the Bay Area. In fact, I feel that see more black people when go back to Wisconsin of all places. Anyway, enough talk on that...just one thing that I noticed right away as I was acclamating myself to being in NY.
The in-flight movie was The Italian Job, a movie that I've heard good things about from several acquaintences and friends, but I've never had a chance to see. So there was my chance. I'd say that it was good movie to watch on a flight. I'd call it a poor man's version of Ocean's 11, kind of a "heist" type of movie with a variety of characters and a sense of humor. I say "poor man's" because it doesn't quite have the star-studded cast of Ocean's (Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Don Cheadle, Andy Garcia, Matt Damon, Julia Roberts), but a pretty good B+ cast (Edward Norton, Charlize Theron, Mark Wahlberg) and it showed. The characters aren't quite as appealing and I think expected a little more from Norton whom I've enjoyed in previous films (Fight Club, Rounders, 25th hour). But it was still an enteraining film, with some nice chase scenes through Venice (on boats) and in L.A. (I think) with mini coopers ( did they get the idea from the Bourne Idenity?) and pretty funny interactions between the characters. I give the movie 2.5 stars, probably perfect for a in-flight movie.
So I checked into my hotel near the airport and tried to go to sleep to get used to the time difference, but it didn't quite work, falling asleep close to 2 AM. I'm hoping I can beat it a little tonight. I took a cab ride that that took a little over an hour into Manhatten from this Indian guy that I could barely understand, but understood that he had a lot of family, including in his son, living in the east bay (small world).
He dropped me off at my hotel near Central Park and I proceeded to deposit my stuff and proceed directly to a Italian deli-looking place that I had spied as we got closer to my hotel. Iammo Bello is its name and looked exactly like a place I'd like to eat, kind of a little cafeteria, hole-in-the-wall type of place with plenty of pasta dishes, salads, pizza and a lot of local-looking folks coming in to pick up some lunch. So I picked up some mosticelli, a little ham and cheese sandwich, and worked my way towards Central Park to find a nice bench to sit on and enjoy some eats.
And that's where I'll end this BLOG, for now, because in 1 hour I need to be the Shubert theater, watching Spamalot...later I'll talk about my visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art...as well as spamalot
The in-flight movie was The Italian Job, a movie that I've heard good things about from several acquaintences and friends, but I've never had a chance to see. So there was my chance. I'd say that it was good movie to watch on a flight. I'd call it a poor man's version of Ocean's 11, kind of a "heist" type of movie with a variety of characters and a sense of humor. I say "poor man's" because it doesn't quite have the star-studded cast of Ocean's (Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Don Cheadle, Andy Garcia, Matt Damon, Julia Roberts), but a pretty good B+ cast (Edward Norton, Charlize Theron, Mark Wahlberg) and it showed. The characters aren't quite as appealing and I think expected a little more from Norton whom I've enjoyed in previous films (Fight Club, Rounders, 25th hour). But it was still an enteraining film, with some nice chase scenes through Venice (on boats) and in L.A. (I think) with mini coopers ( did they get the idea from the Bourne Idenity?) and pretty funny interactions between the characters. I give the movie 2.5 stars, probably perfect for a in-flight movie.
So I checked into my hotel near the airport and tried to go to sleep to get used to the time difference, but it didn't quite work, falling asleep close to 2 AM. I'm hoping I can beat it a little tonight. I took a cab ride that that took a little over an hour into Manhatten from this Indian guy that I could barely understand, but understood that he had a lot of family, including in his son, living in the east bay (small world).
He dropped me off at my hotel near Central Park and I proceeded to deposit my stuff and proceed directly to a Italian deli-looking place that I had spied as we got closer to my hotel. Iammo Bello is its name and looked exactly like a place I'd like to eat, kind of a little cafeteria, hole-in-the-wall type of place with plenty of pasta dishes, salads, pizza and a lot of local-looking folks coming in to pick up some lunch. So I picked up some mosticelli, a little ham and cheese sandwich, and worked my way towards Central Park to find a nice bench to sit on and enjoy some eats.
And that's where I'll end this BLOG, for now, because in 1 hour I need to be the Shubert theater, watching Spamalot...later I'll talk about my visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art...as well as spamalot
Monday, July 18, 2005
Test run
This is a test of my new blog. In fact, I have never blogged before until just this moment. Let's see how this thing works.
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