Running, Then and Now

First, for those that don't know me, I am approaching the age of dirt. I like that, when other choices are considered. I do have a few more senior friends than me (they know who they are). The most senior is 92. As far as I know he is still a walker.

In 1969, I accepted the best deal that I ever got from the federal government and wound up in the Neurosurgery Department of a naval hospital in Boston, MA. I lived in Peabody, MA (pronounced "PEA body" instead of the famous Memphis hotel, "The pea BODY"). We lived in an apartment complex know as Northshore Gardens. Now, the Gaaaaardens, as a Bostonese would say, was nice enough. Nice paved streets and hills were at the front door.

For some reason (I told you I was old), I put on a pair of basketball shoes and started to run these hills. The only time you saw any shoe remotely like a running shoe was at a track meet. There were a lot of military guys staying in shape out there in the dark every morning. I did not see them a lot, since it was dark. I could hear them breathing, so I knew they were there. I didn't realize it then, but those basketball shoes were a good training aid. Kind of like running with lead shoes. Anyway, this little bit of early morning running did not get me hooked.

When military time was over, I moved all to Alabama to get started with the serious business of making a living. Our first house was close (not too close) to a high school with a quarter mile track. One early morning, I put on the big shoes and started doing track mileage. In summer, there were probably 6-10 guys that would show up during an hour. In winter, you just heard a lot of feet hitting the track and heavy breathing. One occasion really sent me in a new direction. There was an ad in a magazine for a running shoe. They were from France and not cheap. I ordered a pair, put them on, and felt like I was floating when I went for a run. They were way too narrow, and the worst shoes that I ever wore after the basketball footwear. Still, they were the lightest shoes that I had ever had.

Not long after that, I was in Memphis for a day or two and came upon a running shoe store of all things. After trying out a few, I bought a pair. Probably Nikes, but who knows now? I took them home and was partially hooked. Why partially? Because a few weeks later, a friend told me that he found street running much less boring that that on a track. HE WAS RIGHT!! From then on, the only time that I ran on a track was to do interval training. About this time we moved about a block away from the track. I started running in the street, and that was that. I had a regular 7 mile out and back course that was along a nice road to and from an industrial park. It was a good mix of ups and downs. On an early morning, I might see a dozen cars.

So, began my serious life as an amateur runner. I soon acquired a painter's cap, a singlet, and some running shorts. My pride (I think they are still in a box somewhere) was a set of "New Zealand Splits". These were next to nothing in weight and were shorts cut up to the waist band. I had no other equipment. Shoes, sox, shorts, singlet, and cap. I later got a cheappo watch for timing. I do not recall when I first ran in a 10 K race. By this time, the running craze had begun. It was probably a friend who told me about races. I should say definitely, that I was never a competitive racer. I began as a LSD runner (Long slow distance) and stayed with that. I remember a friend telling me that on race day, I would run my best time. This was due to the added adrenalin from the excitement of the event. I thought that he was full of it. I knew my times. He was right. I bested my times always on race day. Not a lot, but it got so that if I had not been a little faster, I would have been very disappointed. I found that the "runner's high" was a real thing. It started at about 4 miles at first, but as my distances increased, it took longer to appear.

One physiological fact for me became quickly evident and guided my run routes always. About 4 miles into any run, I began to get a "colon call". Later with marathons, I always had an enema before race day. I probably did this before 10 Ks too (told you I was old). On my daily runs, I was fortunate to be in a lot of undeveloped property areas with lots of trees. A baggie with some toilet paper in it stuffed in a sock worked fine. It was usually dark anyway.

There was a fledgling group of runners in the area, so I went and met with them on occasion. One night a man came over from an adjacent city as a guest runner. This guy was "Mr. Runner" in Alabama then. We started with a 10 K, and then we talked with each other. I found out that in December of each year, there was a marathon in Huntsville, AL. In those days, there were probably 20 or less marathons in the whole country. Two were in Alabama. Huntsville was the best in many ways. It had more recognition and was relatively flat. I started to train for this in March of 1979 (I think). Training advice for marathons abounds today, but in 1979, there was little to none. The only thing besides increasing milage was to add some intervals once a week. Probably, these were of psychological benefit only. December arrived, and I thought I would give it a try. With an empty colon, I drove over to Huntsville, lined up, and got underway on a very nice and cool day.

Today, a marathon is a lot different. Some have activities that last several days before the run. There are all sorts of shorter runs, exhibits, carbo meals, etc. At my first marathon, I could have gone the evening before for a spaghetti supper, and that was it. I passed on the supper because if carbo loading helps anyone at all, it must be the really fast runners. I was not then, and never was, in that group. In Huntsville, after you finished, you got a hot dog and an orange. Of course, I was excited. I had been over a lot of the course already, and I knew that unless I fell, I would finish. At the end of the day, I could say that I was a marathoner. The race was run. At about 20 miles, I met the "wall". The "wall" is a point where your body has used up all the usual muscle energy sources and shifts over to protein as a source. This is not fun at all. I owe a lot of my will power at that point to a rather large Huntsville policeman standing in the road. He was saying over and over, "You are looking great, and it is only a 10 K to go". At that stage, a 10 K seems like a walk in the park. With a further and slower struggle, I made it to the end. I had reached my goal of under 4 hours, had my hot dog (tasted really fine too), and drove back home to soak in a hot tub. Climbing stairs was a challenge for a few days. Going by the book, I skipped a day, and two days later, I ran my regular 7 miles. For a time or two, 7 miles seemed really short.

I continued to run my 35 miles a week and ran in some 10 K races to keep up. Two more Huntsville marathons were in my future. The second one was in the rain, and the only time that I ever got hungry while running any distance. This occurred when I passed a fast food joint. The third and last marathon, I did with a friend who was a first timer. We had made an error in out training, in that we ran a 20 mile course only two weeks before the race. This was not enough time to recover. I ran a few minutes (12 as I recall) over my 4 hours, and I got bored. After that, I stuck with 10 Ks only.

The old knees began to give out, so I retired from running. Three days running and three days crawling around was not worth it.

These days, I am surrounded by runners. Three generations of them and a spouse still pound the pavement in all sorts of races. Equipment abounds. All sorts on improved shoes, orthotics, timing devices, monitors, etc. are a big business. There are even watches with GPS systems built in, so you can find your way home if you are lost. These days, I go as the unofficial photographer, medical support person, general jacket holder, and flunky. If I could run now, I think I would still go with some decent shoes, a singlet, a cap, and my good old New Zealand splits!