Sharpening Rain

© Ugur Akinci

There is nothing that sharpens the mind like a deadline.

And there is nothing that sharpens the leg muscles like lightning and rain.

Today, after returning home from work, I put on my jogging shoes and got out under heavy gray skies. I knew rain might be coming but I thought I could complete my 5K without getting caught. A runner gotta be an optimist, especially if he is over 50 :-)

Then about 2K into my run -- it started. Not a sky-cracking thunderstorm but a drizzle. Started light. Blessed rain on an August evening. It was about 90F out there. So the first drops were like a prayer accepted.

The fragrance of hot-wet earth blended with crushed mowed grass. I inhaled the olfactory cocktail with gratitude.

But then it started to pick up the tempo. Soon it was a rascal of a little downpour and I didn't want to get my new New Balances soggy. So I picked up the pace from a lazy 14"-mile jogging gait to perhaps a 9"-mile attack. To me, that's FAST.

With every step, watched the rain drops paint the hot pavement in thousands of gray brush strokes.

When I finally made it to my front door, chest heaving like bellows and leg tendons on fire, it was coming down like a curtain.

Then, as suddenly it started, it stopped, and left me standing at my front door like someone at the receiving end of a practical joke.

Another day. Another (perhaps) 3K. This time, wet. No problem. Tomorrow, if I'm lucky enough, I can perhaps do it all over again.

Saluting Protocol

© Ugur Akinci

Have you noticed that there is definitely a saluting protocol between runners who meet each other on the road?

A salutation from one jogger to another can mean so many different things ...

Here are a few of them:

(1) "Hey, good job! I admire that you're on the road just like me!  We're brothers -- or sisters -- in spirit! Have a good one!"

(2) "You're okay, buster... Not too great, don't get puffed up, but for your age and condition, you're not too bad either. At least you're trying (fatso!). You have a heart."

(3) "OMG -- isn't this TERRIBLE?! You're hurting too, right? Don't you think we should just turn around and go HOME, and turn on the TV and watch a good football game?! I mean, what-is-this that we got ourselves into?!"

(4) "You suck man, you definitely SUCK and I don't know how else to say it. I'm embarrassed to share the same city block with you!"

(5) "Wink wink! Flirt flirt!  Chirp chirp!  What a gorgeous day!  You're beautiful. I am beautiful. The world is beautiful! Hooray!!!!"

The one I love the best is the first one delivered with  the thumb and forefinger of the right hand extended like letter-L -- the visual equivalent of "you've got it!"

There are other shades and nuances of salutations but I think these are the major ones that I get on a regular basis. This is the MAIN CATALOG of runners' salutations for me. Do you get others? Feel free to share.

My Left Toe and I

© Ugur Akinci

My left toe was hurting slightly. Probably a tissue strain. A light sprain. It's not enough to keep me away from running but still... I knew I'm not 100%.

So the negotiation and the inner dialog began.

ME: Will you leave me stranded?
LEFT TOE: Depends. You can see I'm not 100%.
ME: I know but I trust you. I trust my body.
LT: Thanks. But remember what Reagan has said: trust but verify.
ME: Seriously, how about a 5K? It's only 95F out there! (Wink)
LT: Suit yourself but take it easy.
ME: I will since you're the only left toe I've got.
LT: Go slow and I'll keep up with you. Haven't I supported you in the past? How many years it's been? 50? 60?
ME: You know my age. OK, I take it easy anyways. I'm running for pure enjoyment, you know that.
LT: I know. I sometimes wish you also had these trophies and medals with red ribbons hanging on the wall but it doesn't matter. I know you run because you truly love to run.

CUT TO: Later on the road. 1 mile into a 3.2 mile run.

ME: Hey, thanks for hanging in there...
LT: What do you think so far? I don't hurt that bad, right?
ME: Bearable. I think warming up helps and as you can see I'm trying to distributed the load more towards my heel.
LT: I'm cool. C'mon, I can take it. You can lean more on me.
ME: Yeah but I don't wanna pay for that by taking a month off of running. I'll take it easy, as I promised earlier.
LT: Appreciate that. On days like this I'm not sure if I were created for running or not.
ME: Just help me another couple of miles and we're done.
LT: Do I have another choice?

CUT TO: After 3.2 miles...

ME: Hey, we did it!
LT: Of course. You were like, what? 15 minutes a mile? If you walked you'd have been faster.
ME: I told you, I'm not after a "record" or anything. I'm after the PRESENT, THIS TIME that I spend with you, on the road, enjoying this solitude, one man running in 95F weather with not a single sane person or creature in sight.
LT: Next time get your iPod with you.
ME: And what should I listen to?
LT: Why? "Lean on Me," of course...

Running with Reverence and Gratitude

(Click on the image to see the animation)

© Ugur Akinci

Yesterday evening was burning hot. The mercury hovered around 95F. Back from work, I really felt compelled to strap on my new pair of New Balances (a beaut!) and hit the pavement, with my son by my side.

My son is a great runner; has run a semi-marathon. But what's more important -- he enjoys running just like I do. The sheer infantile direct pleasure of running... We both share that.

But after a mile he said "dad, do you mind...?" And I knew what he meant.

He is a much faster runner than I am. So I knew that him jogging along next to me was a courtesy gesture more than anything else.

Despite the weather I knew he was itching to gun ahead and do a nice fast stretch. So I said "of course" and he was gone in a flash like a gazelle.

And there I was, comfortably alone again in my slow wonderful pace.

Since the weather felt like someone left the door of the Blast Furnace in the Sky open, I settled down to a 14-min a mile shuffle.  At this age I know when to take it easy and not to force the issue.

About an hour later I was back at home, thoroughly drenched in sweat. Panting like a work horse. As I was unlacing my shoes, unmistakable feelings washed over me like a prayer...

REVERENCE and GRATITUDE...

I felt grateful that I could still run. Nothing to be taken for granted for sure.

And I felt this reverence for the unity of the weather, the elements and the temperature, my place in it, the whole wonder of perspiration, oxygen, the feeling of MELTING into the heat like a slice of cheese, disappearing altogether, yet also moving along and making my peace with it.

Surviving with a smile...

A complex feeling, really... hard to explain. But again, as I've felt so many times in the past, I felt like, after all is said and done, that's where I belonged -- the streets, the up and down hills, under the open sky, my endless forgiving sky, the parks, the pathways, in my shoes and shorts, bellowing in and out and still surprised that these old legs could take me so far.

Reverence for being alive. Reverence for the far-greater-than-me presence of nature. She's my Great Mama.

Gratitude for the chance to run one more time during this short stop-over on planet earth... for just being plain lucky.

Amen.

Amazing Letters...

© Ugur Akinci

Since I started this blog I also started to get one or two amazing letters a week, letters that I never expected given the humble dimensions of this tiny blog. But it means there really are people out there who are trying to go back to something that used to make them feel FREE back in their youths... or people who feel that there is a WAY OUT of their present physical-psychological predicament and running is just one of those things in the solution mix...

There is one particular reader who have shared with me recently how she used to run good enough in her youth to win medals but could not share it with her parents who were "absent"... So she threw all her medals away, imagine...

I wonder how many other readers do share such a similar background. But I'll tell you this: I'm a guy whose parents divorced when I was a little boy and the repercussions of that life-altering event still continue for me at this ripe age of 60. And probably my running has something to do with that event as well although I never thought about the connection until I received this lovely letter from my reader. I asked her permission to share it in full with you all and if she says yes you're in for a treat because it's such an honest, warm, and inspiring letter...

THE LATEST... I was in Baltimore for the B'More Marathon. No, I did not run but my son did a half-marathon (13 miles) and I was there to give him logistic support. He ran under 2 hours which is great I think given the fact that he never ran the distance before. I also took a bunch of photos that I'll share with you all in the days ahead. Sorry for my tardiness in that respect.

Wish you all a great happy day!  May your days run free like a gazelle and may you always have the wind on your back!

Running as an Olfactory Feast - a Random Catalog

© 2010 Ugur Akinci

Running is an intense olfactory experience.

Here is a random catalog of the odors and fragrances that I enjoy (mostly) on a typical 5K run around my neighborhood:

• Fresh-cut grass
• Laundry detergent (sometimes mixed up with steam vapor)
• Carpentry 
• Still-warm and ticking car engines
• Onions and assorted kitchen odors
• Meat grilled on barbecue
• Charcoal
• Fresh paint
• Cat piss
• Perfume of a woman who just entered a house
• Sweat
• Rubber
• Softened asphalt
• Pine resin
• Rose bush

LOG: 3.2 Miles (Bug symphony)

Ran my usual 3.2 miles (5K) over my measured route after work.

Days are getting shorter already I can tell. When I slipped on my New Balances and hit the pavement the sun was down. A quiet evening. A little girl playing her guitar on the stairs leading to her house. A woman saying hi with a truly angelic expression on her face, like she'd also like to run but for some reason she can't and she is blessing me for my effort. A vicarious celebration of life. It's like I represent all those who'd like to run but can't. A strange thought and I don't even know if it's true or not... The things that a brain thinks when its blood supply is doubled :-)

Squeal of happy children at play echoing from the street beyond. May they always be healthy, at play, and screaming with joy. Temperature in the low 70s. Perfect for a run. What a lovely evening. Street lamps come on live.

Three different layers of "cricket" sounds I hear.

One layer is constant, like a drone, a hum, an unending din coming from inside a sea shell.

That is punctuated by short bursts of much-higher pitched staccato arias, rapid riffs, as it were. More actually like the sound a razor blade makes when pulled across a corrugated metal roof. Sharp and nasty.

The third layer is something in between. A little longer but less pronounced than the "razor blade."

I don't even know the names of these bugs. I just become aware of them when I'm out there running and when I'm waking up to all these wonderful variety of sounds and smells out there.

"Becoming aware" is one of the joys of running, for sure.

Running as Therapy

© 2010 Ugur Akinci

There was something unusual about James. He was a well-read elderly gentleman of highest integrity. A U.S. government retiree. A friendly man who never went over the top; who never became too-friendly. Always kind but reserved. He had this tremendous amount of discipline over himself, over the way he spoke or reacted...

In short time I took a shine to James. He was someone I loved talking to. A world-traveled man who knew a lot about a lot of topics. A pleasure to listen to and share the same dining table with.

Then I learned James was running marathons; in his seventies (no wonder he looked that fit)! That he actually ran a DOZEN of them in past. My fascination with James only got deeper.

Since we've established a good level of rapport, one day he blurted out the reason why he started to run marathons many years ago: he lost his young son to a tragic accident many years ago. The pain and shock of that loss was so unbearable James didn't know what to do with himself. Running was the only thing he could do that did not feel as painful. Pretty soon he was running longer distances, more frequently, until he graduated up to full marathons, and he never stopped since.

I've also witnessed the therapeutic power of running many times in my life. When you run, endorphins get released in your body, which are (bluntly put) "pleasure hormones." You'll definitely feel better after a typical daily run, better both physically and psychologically. It's the best therapy I know to beat the blues.

Over 50 and running? Pay attention to these...

SLEEP. Get your sleep. If you run with sleep deprivation you're gonna hurt your joint, ligaments. Running while craving for sleep is like burning a candle from both ends. Don't do it.

PACE. Just because that 18 year old can pass you by like a bullet, you do not need to feel bad about yourself and try to catch up. You're only going to hurt yourself. It's a miracle already that you're on the road. Look around you -- how many other post-50 runners you see around? Be grateful and slow down to your comfort zone.

FOOD. Eat natural. Eat fresh and clean. But get your protein. I'm a meat eater. Eating meat has spiritual drawbacks but definite physical advantages. Especially red meat has the highest concentration of amino acids that your body will crave for when you start running on a regular basis.

Don't neglect carbs either since they are your energy source.

Dieting is not for runners. Eat sensibly. And then get out and burn it all and have a ball :-)

DRUGS and HARD LIQUOR. A beer with lunch or a glass of wine with dinner is perfectly okay. But anything more than that is out. Keep your body clean and you'll enjoy your running a lot more.

SMOKING. But of course... it's deadly. No runner should use the damn thing.

Running Inspiration

Who wouldn't want to run like this if you could only fly like this? :-)  Go baby go!


Wikipedia Photo Credit: Jeanette Kwakye during World Indoor Championships 2008 in Valencia

Running Inspiration

Public domain photo courtesy of Wikipedia: Jogging on Waikiki Beach.jpeg
Members of the Air Force Academy football team jog on Waikiki Beach before their game with the team from the University of Hawaii.

LOG: 3.5 Miles Walk + Run

Walked and ran about 3.5 miles on a day as gorgeous as any in heaven...

Beautiful orange sunshine that's not hot... baby blue skies without a single cloud... people raking leaves and collecting them in front of their driveways... a day of peace and goodness.

Running as a Philosophical Quest

© 2010 Ugur Akinci

On the one hand I don't want to make a big deal out of it.

But on the other hand, I can't help thinking: isn't running a very philosophical act given the fact that the word "philosophy" translates from Greek as "love of knowledge"?

When I run I'm curious whether I'll "survive" the run (as I'm determined to do) rather than die of a heart attack (as -- god bless her -- my mom is afraid I'll end up doing one of these days). It's a tiny little experiment in life and death, really, only it of course never feels that dramatic.

Every exhalation is a bet that it'll be followed by inhalation. David Hume has thought us not to bet too hard on whether the sun will rise from the East, even though we are (almost) 100% certain that it will do so. But there's no way to actually prove it by sheer induction.

Same with running. I'm (almost) 100% certain of many things when I'm chugging up and down the hills of my neighborhood. Almost certain. But always never quite.

I'm curious to find out whether the assumed limitations of my age, weight, height, bone structure, muscle category, thought patterns, gender, eating habits, social class, etc. are real or largely a figment of my imagination. Every time I run I'm betting against sociology, psychology, biology, and god knows how many other -logies.

So in that sense running is my personal path, one of my paths, of discovery to find out more about all the things that are packaged as me. In that sense, this is a quest for knowledge.

As in similar quests, I have to learn to pace myself, literally. I have to control my ambition to run one 7-minute-mile after another (as if I could do it!) and yield to the more sobering reality that, if I'm lucky and careful, I can perhaps run 12-minute-miles into my seventies. The chronometer and the sharp pain in my lungs and hamstrings are my best teachers.

And what about becoming aware of all the sounds, textures, aromas and fragrances (from fresh paint to backyard barbecues) that I never knew existed at that particular spot, at that particular uphill ramp, around the corner of that house?

When I drive in my car, I'm aware of NONE of that data. All I'm aware of in my car are my thoughts, the newscast on NPR, and the whir of the AC. When I'm driving down the highway at 65 mph I'm not really in touch with the world in a primordial or existential sense.

And then I strap on my New Balances and hit the pavement and the world, in a Niagara of sensations, starts to flood in. And something within me welcomes that gift almost as "love". It's a feeling close to going back home again, going back home to my and everybody else's childhood I suppose...

"Love of knowledge" had never been this real, this immediate, this inspiring . And I don't think it's a coincidence that the word "inspire" itself comes from Latin "to breathe." (And credit for that goes to my son who's getting ready to run a half-marathon in October. Young man, run smooth, run light, and know thyself.)

Running Inspiration

 (Did you know that the verb INSPIRE comes from the Latin root INSPIRARE -- "to breathe"?!)

 

Jogging with dog at Carcavelos Beach
Wikipedia Photo Credit

Neglected for so long...

I realize I've neglected this blog for so long.

I decided to update its design and start re-posting after I received today a very nice letter from D. who says she was partly inspired to start walking at age 47 by an article I wrote (I think she is referring to the story of how I was ashamed into running many years ago by a 84 year old guy -- you get that when you subscribe to my free Running Ezine).

I was 49 years old when I started running... I remember how disgusted I was staring at my drooping belly in the mirror. I decided I had to do something about it.

Well, I'm 60, still have a small belly, and I'm still running.

Yesterday evening I put in 4K after work, after a whole summer of not running.

Felt very good again...

the sounds of the crickets, the coolness of Fall in the air...

my neighbors getting ready for supper...

charcoal and barbecue smell from a distance...

That sense of trusting my body, knowing that, yes, I won't be flying exactly but I'll be making one hill after another, my lungs knees and elbows pumping in unison, with tolerance and patience.

It's a good thing to be out there jogging/running. It's good to be grateful and alive.

LOG: 3.2 Miles

Ran 3.2 miles around noon to melt away the Thansgiving dinner.

It started out chilly and cold. Ended warm, with rays of sunshine piercing through the clouds.

Everything changes and one becomes so aware of these changes while running. It's an open classroom under the skies, this love of running.

Winds change... lights change... clouds, time, the fragrance in the air... the houses I pass by... they all change.

So much teaching, for free. So many simple things to learn, over and over again...

Pain is bad and alarming when running. If you are in pain, you should never run. But STRESS is normal. We are stressing our lungs, muscles, mind, and spirit. That's how the mind becomes SHARP. The stress of running gathers every drop of concentration and resource we have, to put us over that invisible barrier of self-imposed limits. I remember how surprised I was the day I ran my first 10K. I just couldn't believe it! When it accomplishes such seemingly-impossible tasks the mind gains in CONFIDENCE. It becomes SURE and fond of itself. It starts to meditate on the SUBTLE SECRETS of existence without any effort... like the IMPERMANENCE of things. Change.

I run. Therefore I change. Yes I do. Like the spirit gliding silently over the surface of the infinite water.

Ahh, My Shoes...

Shoes are so important to running. If you've got the wrong shoes you'll just end up hurting yourself. The correct and comfortable shoes are worth every single penny you spend for them.

Here are my current shoes, NEW BALANCE 737 (sounds like an airplane model, doesn't it?):

 I know that there are many other excellent running brads out there including NIKE, ASICS, ADIDAS, and others. But I feel most comfortable with NEW BALANCE and never waver from it. I haven't tried NEWTON shoes and I hear they are pretty good too.

Here are my two previous sets, also NEW BALANCE, that I now use only for yard work or running to the supermarket to buy something:

NB 645:

NB 718:

You're supposed to wear a running shoe for 500 miles. Given the fact that I average 12 miles a week, it means I need to buy a new pair every year -- which I do.

This calculating-the-miles business is so funny because I sometimes end up reminding myself that I ran "from here to New York City" or some other city of my fancy.

Have you read that immortal John Cheever story, "The Swimmer", the story of a guy who one day decides to go back from Manhattan to his Long Island home by just swimming his way from one swimming pool to another? I sometimes also fantasize that I'm running my way around the world at 3 or 4 or 6 miles at a time...

Meb Keflezighi finished the New York City Marathon in 2:9:15

(Excerpts from a WSJ article)

When Meb Keflezighi finished the New York City Marathon in two hours, nine minutes and 15 seconds the morning after Halloween, he became the first American to win the race in 27 years. But some spectators apparently missed the three red letters on his chest as he burst through the tape. Keflezighi is only "technically American," argued CNBC sports writer Darren Rovell. He's "like a ringer who you hire to work a couple hours at your office so that you can win the executive softball league."

Though Mr. Rovell has since backtracked, nobody recalls similar comments about Alberto Salazar, the Cuban-born American who won in 1982. And if Meb's name was Joe Smith and he was born in England rather than Eritrea, few would have questioned his national identity.

When I meet Meb the morning after his appearance on the David Letterman show—almost as great as winning the race, he quips—he is unbothered by the debate raging on the Web about his American-ness. "What's the list of things you need to be an American?" he asks rhetorically. "You live here, you pay taxes, you live by the American way. I've been here for 22 years. I'm as American as you can get."

As for wearing the USA tank top: "What a beautiful day to wear it on. In New York, to win my first marathon in that jersey—it just gave me great pride."

...

"Born in 1975, Mebrahtom (his full name means "let there be light") grew up in an Eritrean village with no electricity and no running water. Besides poverty, Meb's parents, Russom and Awetash, feared for their family's safety because of Russom's involvement with the Eritrean Liberation Movement and because of the ongoing war with Ethiopia. Meb's father decided to flee. "He walked all the way"—60 miles—to Sudan, Meb says. Russom eventually made his way to Milan, Italy, where he worked to raise the money to bring his family out of East Africa.

On Oct. 21, 1987, a date that rolls off Meb's tongue, the family immigrated to San Diego as refugees with the help of the Red Cross and the sponsorship of Meb's half-sister, Ruth. "Dad used to wake up at 4 a.m. so we could learn English," Meb says. "He worked as a taxi driver and worked in restaurants to be able to feed the family.""

Running, Religion, & Altered State of Consciousness

Rostock Marathon.JPG
Rostock Marathon (Photo Courtesy of Wikipedia)

© Ugur Akinci

Long distance running commonly creates a suspension of knee-jerk judgments and creates a sense euphoria that is sometimes also referred to as an “altered state of consciousness.” As an amateur runner who averages only about 10 to 12 miles a week, I still concur with that statement.

Actually there are quite a few religious orders which use long-distance ultra-marathon running (anything over 26 miles) as a tool to transcend the body consciousness, to eliminate the mental limitations and biases, and to open up the mind to a new “floating” awareness which looks at the world from a brand new objective point of view. There are actually reports of out-of-body experiences among some ultra-runners as well.

The Shri Chinmoy Order headquartered in New York City, for example, is well known for the fantastic running feats it encourages its members to tackle in order to transcend the mind’s concepts about “physical reality” and the “body’s limitations.”

The Shri Chinmoy Marathon Team regularly organizes and participates in 50K and 100K races.

The “Running Monks” present another amazing fusion of running ands religious discipline.

In order to gain access to higher levels of consciousness through running, a certain Buddhist sect in Japan allegedly run (are you ready for this?) 100 marathons on 100 consecutive days!

Waking up at 1:30 a.m. in the morning, the monks pray and meditate for an hour. Then they hit the road and run 26 miles. After the marathon they are back to their normal daily chores nd prayers, and then to bed early in the evening.

The next day they do it all over again, for 100 days straight.

The monk who fails in the task, is asked to “end his life with the belt of his robe,” according to the Shri Chinmoy web site.

I’m all for pushing my body a little in order to reach a somewhat more elevated state of consciousness, humility and kindness.

But I don’t think I’ll ever reach a stage where I’d be going for the belt of my robe just because I can’t run 100 marathons in a row. I hope not anyways.

LOG: 3.2 Miles

This morning I woke up and had this conversation with the weather:

ME - You're cloudy, chilly, and downright nasty.
Weather - I know. And I'm in the low-40s too. Stay in bed. Don't move! Curl up and fade away.
ME - I don't think so.
Weather - What you mean?
ME - Your tricks won't work on me, buster!
Weather - Uh-oh! Here he goes again!

15 minutes later I was out in my running shoes, banging the pavement. 40 minutes later I was back home, ready for that warm cup of tea and toasted bread with jelly.

The world is fine again.