Mind, Motion & Matter

Running, Essentially . . .

Category Archives: Masters Running


by Leave a comment

Ed Whitlock’s Advice: “Run as much as you can!”

Recently, I was reminded of the virtues of simplicity while weight training at the local gym.  A group of women and one man were involved in what appeared to be resistance training on a small 15- laps-to-the-mile track that circles the weight training area.  Some were hunched forward pushing 25 pound circular barbell weights, made slide-able  by a towel underneath in an inverted “V” posture that seemed to lend itself to back strain.  Another participant was pulling a couple of these same weights  with a makeshift rope and belt combination attached to her waist.  My impression was that this complicated endeavor had something to do with improving leg strength.

Toddler running

My three year old niece in the 20 meter dash for toddlers

While trying to figure out what they might be trying to accomplish, Ed Whitlock’s deceptively simple words popped into my head. “Run as much as you can!” is was what he told me when I asked him for advice. And then another thought, variety for its own sake, is the mother of ridiculous inventions.  One place where odd physical challenges are at home is the community picnic, summer camp or team building activities.  During this busy summer we’ve had our share of those, along with the hilarity and laughter while taking part.

At the Toronto Japanese Community Picnic, despite my protests, I found myself in a three-legged race with a brother whose strategy was to go out hard and if we get in a groove well great and if not . . .  Well, you get violently pulled to the ground by your out-of-synch bound legs, experience near concussion and scrape your face as I did and still come up laughing.  Of course this was recorded by numerous family members on video, footage I’ve yet to see.

Japanese getta race

A traditional competitve event at the picnic

My husband and I were the winners of the egg-on-your face award during the egg toss competition.  Couples toss an egg back and forth, at increasing distance until disqualified by a broken egg or a grassy landing.  My husband got egged by the splatter from the couple next to him and I got splattered by his inaccurate toss, causing great laughter. I have fond memories of summer picnics and park track and field days as they were the scene of my earliest running victories.  My memory is that my skinny  self never went down to defeat in the short dashes we took part in as kids.

My husband and I were at a camp in the Muskokas this weekend and took part in various team challenges which included a relay race where you had to spin around five times at the turnaround point, causing utter disorientation on the homestretch, a tug-of-war and wild multi-age soccer and volleyball games.  My two camp mornings started with a multi-age run, as all were invited to join me on my laps of the dirt track surrounding the playing field.  I ran 5 miles the first morning and 6 miles the next morning with companions dropping in and out.  The first part of my run involved going round to each cabin and bunkhouse to do wake-up calls at 7:15 a.m.  Never did my morning run feel quite so useful.

Tug-o-War

Our team wins the tug-o-war

The other team

But going back to Ed’s advice, he’s telling us to RUN not cross-train or push weights around on a track but run.  His regime of 2-3 hours a day of running gives testimony to the amazing capacity of the aerobic system to improve à la Arthur Lydiard.  If injuries limit how much you can run, that is the time to look for strength and flexibility training to increase your capacity to run.  In addition, “as much as YOU can” points to the wisdom of Matt Fitzgerald, author of Mind, Body, Running who advises that to improve as a runner the role of all the other stuff should be to strengthen your vulnerable spots, those the keep you from running “as much as you can”.

Apart from taking up an inordinate amount of space on a track meant for running or walking, the complicated weight pulling and pushing activity seems wildly off the mark in anyone’s total fitness package.  Grandmaster Ed’s advice points us all in the direction of better running but also vitality and quality of life. Advice well demonstrated by the natural instincts of toddlers as they enjoy their first years on their feet.


by 5 Comments

Running in the Seventies – Some Differences

Writing about my husband’s past running accomplishments in my last blog reminded me of some of the changes that have occurred over those years.

Looking smug at the start of Ottawa Marathon,1982

  1. Conventional advice for winter running was to wear woolen socks to keep hands warm. Who knew that you might dedicate a pair of regular mitts or gloves to exercise, let alone spend money to buy special ones to run in.
  2. Runners used string to measure routes on paper maps.  The really high-tech folk, of whom I knew only two, bought special map measuring wheels.  My upgrade was to use candle wicking which had wire inside and improved accuracy while measuring around a bend.
  3. Not all results were made public for the Boston Marathon.  Not only were the qualifying times more difficult (sub- 3hours for open men) but you only got your name in the official program if you were 3:15 or faster, whether male or female.
  4. There was no such thing as a personal music device.  I owned the first Sony Walkman, introduced in 1981.  The prototype was a behemoth and to run with it involved a complicated system of belts and strapping which felt like being wrapped in a very wide tensor bandage.
  5. There was no affordable stopwatch available until 1974 when Casio produced the first, priced at $150.  A bargain compared to the $2100 Pulsar by Hamilton a few years earlier.
  6. Instead of chip-timing, the popsicle-stick-timing system was commonly used and believe it or not, fairly effective.
  7. There was no Olympic marathon for women. The first Olympic marathon for women took place in 1984, three years after I had run my first marathon at age 26.  Joan Benoit stepped into the record books with her historic victory.

To hear Joan Benoit read the poem below CLICK HERE

Wanting to be able to
by: Piet Hein

“Impossibilities” are good
not to attach that label to;
since, correctly understood,
if we wanted to, we would
be able to.

26 miles later, Olivia Newton-John Wannabe feels the pain


by 1 Comment

If My Husband had a Tattoo

It might read “I ran a 2:36 marathon”.  I find his time impressive considering that while in his first year of university the three sports he chose for his mandatory physical education credit were fencing, bowling and swimming.  His discovery of long-distance running shortly after, was his first real foray into jockdom, if you can call it that.

Pat Deutscher, Patrick Deutscher

Finish Line Proof, Vancouver Marathon 1982

He ran his first marathon, the Ottawa marathon in 1977 in a time of 3:13.  His second was the Toronto marathon later that year where he qualified for Boston with a sub-three-hour effort, easily going under the qualifying mark of 3 hours.  At Boston on a very rainy day he ran 2:47 another P.B. despite making a pit stop in a restaurant where he ended up using the women’s washroom.  Porta potties were not as plentiful back in the day. His fourth consecutive P.B. was posted at a small marathon in England called the Milton Keynes marathon.  After that he took quite a few runs at going under 2:40 and then finally ran a 2:36 at Detroit his all-time P.B.

Pat Deutscher, Patrick Deutscher

Racing indoors at Hart House, U of T in the early eighties

Injuries, including knee problems, and fatherhood intervened and since then he has only run one marathon.  That was the Columbus marathon in 2000 to celebrate his 50th birthday in what for him was a hugely disappointing time of 3:14:03. I ran that same marathon and finished in 3:15:22.  It is a part of family lore that had the race been 800 meters longer, I would have passed him.  He was in fact, fitter than I was but went out too fast with a 1:30 half-marathon split and a very painful and plodding 1:44 second half. Had he paced himself more wisely, I think he would have gone under 3:10.

So that was yesteryear.  Yesterday my husband ran around Queen’s Park circle, a popular downtown running loop in Toronto and spotted a crew from the local news station.  He made a detour, worried that his knee doctor might spot him on TV, blatantly disobeying his orders to avoid any vigourous activity.  A blog or two ago, I inadvertently offended my husband by referring to the current state of his running as meager.  When he mentioned this to his boss, a long-time and often-injured runner himself, his boss laughed in commiseration. Well, at least my unintended insult had the positive effect of a lightening the workday with a laugh.

Yukon river run

Running together since 1985 (Yukon river run, June 2011)

As for lightening up, that is our current mantra as we are hoping and praying that physics will be on our side and a weight loss of 7-10 pounds might be all that is needed to  put his knee on the right track.

Incidentally, the 5 X 7 proof above was mailed to every finisher by Marathon Fotos, rubber-stamped lightly with the words, “PROOF ONLY Property of Marathon Fotos”.  Things change.


by 1 Comment

NYC Marathon, No Longer an Abstraction

When I registered for the NYC marathon, I was not entirely committed.  I was able to get automatic entry based on my time from the California International Marathon (CIM) run last December and entered in advance of firm commitment as major marathons have been filling up in record time the past year.

California International Marathon

Running guaranteed entry time for NYC at the CIM

If you do not have a qualifying time you are entered in a lottery however all potential entrants must pay $10 to acquire a NY marathon runner ID and once entry is confirmed your credit card is charged for the entry fee.  I seem to recall a few years back having paid about $100 to enter so when my credit card bill arrived with a $273 price tag plus $10 charge, I was surprised.  Up to then I had viewed my entry as something of an expensive reservation. Thus it is that I am now commit to serious marathon training.

Sunday is the day when I tally up my miles for the week and this week the total stands at 45 miles.   I consider this my rock bottom minimum mileage at any given time but I have recently fallen off that wagon.  In spite of heat and humidity for my 14 miler yesterday, I was able to complete the distance fairly comfortably, aided by the pace-moderating factor of a companion who is on the comeback trail from a calf injury. I ran about 150 miles in June and my target for July will be to get over 200 miles, including increased quality and a long run of at least 17 miles. I’m also going to get back to regular weight training to start on Tuesday.

Sunday afternoon was spent at the Art Gallery of Ontario enjoying a bit of New York that has recently arrived in Toronto, Abstract Expressionism New York, Masterpieces from the Museum of Modern Art.  This is the first time that a show of these modern masters has left New York.  As an art student in the 70’s I and my artistic peers were naturally enthralled by this group which included; Jackson Pollock, Barnet Newman, Wilhelm De Kooning and many others.

"Edge of Town" by Philip Guston

The work that I found most interesting was Philip Guston’s, Edge of Town from 1969 which expressed his frustration with the lack of explicit social commentary in art during a time of great upheaval with civil rights at the forefront.  The work above with its cartoon like depiction of the Ku Klux Klan is an indicative work, informing the article Philip Guston: abstract expressionism’s provocative pioneer and ultimate critic, a biography from Museum Today.

The November marathon trip to NYC will be a short one as it will be a busy period at work. With careful planning, I hope I can fit in a visit to  an art gallery or two. With eighteen weeks to marathon day the countdown begins NOW!


by Leave a comment

Happy in Haines

Future site of cubic cabin

The weather in Haines, back in early June was superb and we were told, unusually summery.  First order of the day was a run, and a destination run at that.  I’m not the only one in my family to fall in love with Haines as my Whitehorse brother, an architect, recently bought a property in Haines.  Thus  sight number one, was his lot.

Final leg up the hill, breakfast just around the corner

His lot is on the edge of this town, in the uppermost reaches so it was quite a climb to get there and a bit too steep on the downhill to really enjoy an easy stride. But, man oh man, what a view!   Then, down to the water and a run over to the Mountain Cafe, THE place for coffee in Haines. This combo healthy food store and cafe sits at the conjunction of the major roads into the town. Having verified the location of where we would breakfast, I was eager to get on with the eating and shortened my run a bit.

I do cut myself a bit of slack while on vacation particularly since my husband has had to cut back his running as my primary goal is to spend time with HIM.  I’ve also cut back on travel shopping as well, for the very same reason.

Mountain Cafe, Breakfast Burritos

The Mountain Cafe met expectations with very good breakfast burritos and local hustle and bustle.  Then we walked to Fort Seward, so named for William H. Seward who negotiated the purchase of Alaska from the Russians.  The fort was decommissioned in 1947 and is now privately owned.  The original buildings now a combination of private residences, B&B’s, eateries galleries and studios.

Carrying on the Tinglit cultural traditions

Tinglit artist's supply room

Notable was the Alaskan Indian Arts centre with a gallery and studio  where we were able to informally tour the studio where totem poles are made.  To order a totem pole CLICK HERE  It was hard not to compare the quality and pricing of the work found here to the offerings of the ultra-commercialized Juneau.  Any cruise ship passenger happening upon this place would feel that they had connected to the “real” Alaska.

In the afternoon we went on a three-hour guided hike.  This was quite expensive but hikers are cautioned to travel in groups to minimize the risk of a bear attack.  I’ve heard various numbers cited for safety from parties of three to ten.  With eight in our group, including two guides, one armed with bear spray in a holster I felt safe.  Being of small stature, I’ve often thought it would be useful to have a very tall, hiking hat in the shape of some sort of menacing creature.

One of our guides, Lindy was a musician and naturalist.  She and her husband lived for years in a Yurt,  the portable, wood-framed and felt-covered dwelling of nomadic Mongolians.  Funnily enough her band played in Ottawa last year, for the Canada Day celebrations.  Lindy was able to tell when a bear had scratched its back on a tree, or whether a moose had gone by, by virtue of a few hairs left on bark or a bush.  Thankfully, she was also able to tell us that the very loud and scary sound we heard was not a mountain lion or a bear but the sound of humpbacks in the water nearby.

If it had been the two of us, in fear (or at least my fear) we could have set personal best times running back to the trail head.  Thanks to our guides we now cherish the memory of those otherworldly, sonorous and eerily musical sounds.  Sadly, we were not able to see the humpbacks through the thick forest cover but we came upon another group who were starry-eyed having seen the humpbacks play in a cove further on.  Excitedly we trekked on, hoping the whales would linger so we could enjoy the same.

Humpback whales hang out here

The word pristine was invented to describe places such as the destination cove and all those beautiful, mostly unnamed places in the north.  Wow!  The humpbacks were gone however and that was a bit disappointing.   Somewhere along the trail the topic of beer came up and this thread was eagerly pursued by our other guide.  He promised to take us to the Haines Brewing Company located in the state fairground, formerly the set of the movie White Fang.  Happily, time allowed and sampled some Spruce Tip Ale while I enjoyed a freshly brewed and delicious root beer.

Happiness is a bottle of spruce tip beer

From there we returned to the Fireweed Restaurant for dinner where we were greeted like regulars.  I wondered if this was because our two night in a row appearance set us apart from the majority of middle-aged folk who travel Alaska via cruise ship.  One of the couples on our hike were from California and they were amazed to discover that it was possible to travel down the Lynn Canal by state ferry.

The next day was our travel day to Whitehorse.  Sure wish we had more time on our hands but I know we will be back.

Haines, good for the soul


by Leave a comment

Run, Jump, Eat Cake & Other Adventures

I managed to get in 40 miles for the week ending Sunday, June 12th, although on Monday I was pretty dead legged after a successful 13+ miler on Saturday.  I had to abandon my husband on his five-miler, as my legs just didn’t have any juice. Later in the day, I was invited to take part in more vigourous activity at a birthday party for a three year old niece.  As I wandered into the backyard of my sister’s home, I was invited by my brother-in-law to join in on the fun in the bounce tent as I was under the maximum weight allowed.

I couldn’t resist the challenge as a former lover of trampolining.  Although, my very worst sports injury took place on a trampoline at age 13, a severely sprained ankle that to this day, remains my Achilles heel.

So in I went, through an opening designed to fit your average eight year old to bounce the night away.

Awkward entry

Getting the hang of it

Look at meeeeee . . . .

Ungainly exit

I was concerned that I would set back my training a few days with this unplanned for training session but I didn’t notice ill effects on my five miler this morning.  Phew!

As for the bunny cake, however cute and delicious, it was not the best start to my week of cutting back on refined sugar.  So, so hard to resist a birthday cake.

Hop, Eat, Jump

The bicycle story started the day before we left for our vacation.  On leaving work, I could not find the key to my bike lock and had to leave my bike parked on Dundas Street. I worried and wondered how much of my bike would be left when I returned.  On my first day back to work, I could hardly stand to look at the spot where my bike was parked thinking I might see a bike frame, with no wheels, fenders and seat.  But hallelujah . . . there it was neatly placed on a the lawn of the home in front of which it had been parked.  That morning, the section of sidewalk where my bike was parked was being worked on by road crews and THEY HAD REMOVED THE POLE FROM THE SIDEWALK, thus liberating my bike.  WooHoo!  I walked over, claimed my bike and carried it to work.  The guardian angel of bikes must have been watching out for mine.

Close to home, I arranged to have my lock removed by Cam at My Little Bike Shop on College street.  Cam also has the best prices on Kryptonite locks. Good price but still not cheap at $80, making the bill for the lost key $110 with the $30 for lock removal.

Cam at work with an angle grinder. Watch out for sparks!

Liberation!

Cam doesn’t do tune-ups but spruces up old or vintage bikes.  This led to a discussion of my old Bianchi road bike bought in 1985.  He decided to make a house call to check it out and followed me home as I led the way on my newly liberated bike.  He paid me $50 for my cobweb covered vintage wheels.  He also asked that I mention to my friends that he is in the market for old bikes.  That took the bite out of my $110 misadventure. Bianchi it turns out is the oldest bike manufacturer in the world.  He asked me to let my friends know he is looking to buy bikes.

So now, it is Saturday, five days after I began this post and having now completed another Saturday run, 14 miles today, finally feel I can spare the time to finish the post. Although, I’m at a loss to connect the dots, if there were any.  All I can say is THE END and I hope to have a smaller gap between this post and my next post. I think I set a personal record for post-less days.


by 3 Comments

Where a Peony Was – Return to City Life

The peony down the street

While away, the thing I missed most was our garden.  The peony buds were coming along nicely and I hoped not to miss any of their divine showiness. One peony bud in particular was on my mind.  Nearly three years ago, I was sitting in a favourite spot in Mt. Pleasant cemetery close to the double bed of commemorative peonies that supposedly have one of every type of peony grown in Canada.  The gardener was pruning the post-bloom garden and we struck up a conversation.  He then gave me 14-15 peony roots and told me to plant them.

I rushed back to work and put them in water and a few days later planted all fourteen in my garden.  Nothing green poked through the earth that year.  But the following spring, leaves showed up on three cuttings.  Last year, a bit more foliage grew on two of them and this year many more leaves grew on a single stem.  The only survivor.  To my amazement a bud started to form and I was certain that it would blossom.  My curiousity about what type of peony would emerge was blooming,  and then we left town.

Many mornings in spring and summer I begin my day by checking out our front and back garden with coffee in hand.  My first morning back, I did this and was shocked to discover the mystery peony bud was gone.  I can only guess that it had blossomed and someone stole it as there was a definite jagged, ripped look to the top of the main stem.  Sad to say flowers from our garden are often picked but never did I feel so sad as this time.  Could the thief ever have any idea of how long I had been waiting to see this particular flower. What a sad comment on life in the city coinciding with my return to Toronto.

I console myself by saying that the loss of the flower will create a stronger plant for next year, with more flowers because of the energy saved by this years flowerlessness. Sniff . . .

Above is a photo of a peony on our block that made my heart melt with its beauty.  This photo is my current BlackBerry screensaver.

As for the return to running, I had a better-than-expected outing.  My goal was to run for two hours and I was expecting it to be a bit of a slog as I have gone under my forty-mile-week minimum goal several times in the last six weeks.  The cooler temperature, overcast sky and slightly slower pace to accommodate an injured run mate’s injury made for a very comfortable 13+ mile run with energy to spare.

Men planking at St. Clair & Avenue Road

As we waited at Avenue Road and St. Clair for J, R decided to plank.  Later on at a water fountain stop, R & J decided to plank.  I limited myself to assessing the planking form of my running mates as I find planks difficult and did not want to run with sore abdominals.  I recently learned that planking has branched out into plankstering in unusual places.  Apparently a plankster died while planking on a moving car.  My husband’s intention was not to plankster when he did his on a ferry in Alaska.

Man planking in his boots on Alaskan ferry

A plank a day keeps a backache away. It is a very effective abdominal exercise. Gotta get back to it!  Reverting to the topic of peonies, while my all-male running mates enjoy gardening (we toured each others gardens last year) they tell me that real men don’t like peonies. Hmm . . .


by Leave a comment

Pitching Portland

Japanese garden, Washington park

Until recently, I had a vague notion that I might like to visit Eugene, Oregon one day being a famous runner’s city but Portland was just a name.  I asked my brother who lives in the Yukon whether he thought we would enjoy visiting Anchorage, Alaska and I received a flurry of emails detailing the wonders of Portland.  We spoke on the phone and he assured me that I would love it and if I didn’t love it, he would give me my money back.

Early morning hang-out, THE NINES lobby

And that is how we ended up sipping coffee in the lobby of the ultra-hip THE NINES hotel.  My brother sent me a Hotwire alert that was offering rooms at THE NINES for nearly half price.  The same price as what we will pay for a very modest rooms in Juneau and Haines in Alaska and where the internet will probably not be free.  So we arrived mid-afternoon on Thursday and fly to Juneau, late Sunday afternoon through Seattle, touching down in Juneau around the time the sun will set.

In pitching Portland to me, Jack described the city as being very Lynn-esque.  Hmm, my husband and I have been mulling this one over, and he says, “Well, not my Lynn particularly.”  The key elements, I think are a bike, runner friendly place with great coffee and bookstores, extensive public transit and casual outdoorsy feel.  But, the birthplace of grunge and a skateboarders haven, not really.  I’m definitely into low-risk sports and if pressed, would have to name jazz as my favourite music.  On the other hand I was a huge fan of Patti Smith when in art school and her bio was the top seller at Powell Books, which is a far better showing than on the NYT best seller list.

So, so good . . . going back for more.

Highlights so far have been; Powell Books, which far outstrips the Strand in New York City, the Japanese gardens in Washington Park, the amazing light rail transit, Stumptown coffee at the ACE Hotel and the best cheese blintzes ever at Kenny and Zuke’s deli just a door away from the ACE Hotel.

A time to blog and a time to RUN!

So much to do, and so much to report but I have a run to get in so gotta go . . . adios!


by Leave a comment

Postcard from Portland

Wish you were here and hope the young men minding the homestead have good weather for barbequing.  Hoping the rain here will let up a bit to allow a dry run tomorrow.  It was raining when we left Toronto, pouring at our stopover in Calgary and then when we arrived in Portland, letting up about an hour ago.

Was up at 4:15 a.m. Toronto time.  Thank goodness that we are in the hometown of Stumptown Coffee . . . ole!

Staying awake in Portland


by Leave a comment

What’s up with Lynn?

Forget-me-nots & anemones

Forget-me-nots & anemones

While on the way out the door for my run, my husband told me he had checked my blog three times yesterday.  “What’s up with Lynn?”  he asked, in reference to the absence of new posts.  I found this funny and flattering, in that being a think-out-loud kind of person he definitely knows what is on my mind.  But, the written word does offer another perspective  and as we continue our journey of couplehood we’ve  discovered that writing is a preferred communication medium for my husband.

We are part of a unique sharing group.  It is a couples/marriage sharing group and it has a distinct format.  One couple does a presentation on whatever relationship topic they they like and then they pose a question related to that topic.   The couples disperse to separate rooms or areas and then each person writes a letter to their spouse for 10 minutes.   Then spouses read each others letter twice and then discuss the letters, starting with the letter which contains the strongest emotions.  The discussion is 10 minutes long.

Each letter has to begin with telling your spouse what their most endearing quality was for the day, week, month and so on.  There are also guidelines as to how to express your feelings, as just that, rather than as blame.

Then everyone regroups and we “share” our thoughts and if desired, the contents of our letter.  It is a totally enriching experience to learn from each other and to spend time this way with couples who are highly motivated to “dwell deep”.  The ranges of ages for the nine couples in our group is mid-thirties to early-seventies.

Plant from neighbour

Transplanted from the abundance of a neighbour's garden

To partially answer the question of what’s up, I ran about 14 miles on this absolutely gorgeous day but is was a struggle.  I’ve never felt quite so dead legged as I did today, parting company with my friends to walk and run the final four miles home.  About 400 meters from home I realized why the fatigue.  Blame it on the garden.  Thursday was a GARDEN-RUN-GARDEN duathlon and I am feeling the after-effects now.  The garden is also the reason why I am getting so irregular with the blog.  Although, our gardens, front and back are very modest in size.  A number of our neighbours have incredible gardens they have been tending for decades which overflow with plant material, from which I have inherited a few specimens.

Better go plant those dahlia bulbs . . . ciao!

These dahlias may grow as big as a saucer, I'm told.