Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon

I never knew it was so much fun to run a marathon . . . (Actually, I do. I ran the San Francisco Marathon in 1979. I think it was fun. I don’t remember!) My daughter Sara (“Hare”) and her running buddy Patty (“Turtle”) ran the San Diego’s Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon yesterday and had a fabulous time pounding the pavement. Sara confesses “I don’t think I would have finished without Patty encouraging me,” but you’d never know either one needed a push. I hung out at the finish line so I could see them cross. It’s a feel-good experience watching the runners near the end. Some are in pain, some are exuberant, some are barely lifting that one foot. Couples, friends, and family members hold hands for the last 20 yards. A few sprint, just to show they can.
The Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon provides live race-day results. I could track Sara’s progress in the morning (10K, half-marathon, and 21-mile splits are reported on the website). I timed my arrival at the finish, navigating traffic, parking issues, and crowds entering the San Diego Marine Corp Training Depot (MCRD) as we all patiently waited in line for individual searches and screening similar to airport security checks.


Congratulations to Sara and Patty (and Taryn and Mary and David and John and . . . ) and all the other finishers who completed the 10th annual Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon.

Stones Strewn About

Stones strewn about
All over the beach
Scattered in piles,
Stretching for miles
Such clatter and roar
as the waves wash them o’er
And yet, I press on
One foot
in front of the other
One shoe
just clearing the hazard
Whilst the other shoe sinks
in the sand


Ah, such effort and care must I take
To make sure I don’t twist my ankle
Or break my toe
On this stone or that
Or the millions or so that lie up ahead
Happily, those behind can do me no harm—
Unless I turn 'round
And run back among
Those stones strewn about
All over the beach

A New Moon, An Old Tune—Making Tracks with Jack

Aaah, the cosmic alignment of moon, tides, weather, and day of the week has brought me a Saturday afternoon low tide, new moon (meaning low, low tides), and a mild Santana condition (meaning sparkling sun, low humidity, and summer-like temperatures). The confluence of these conditions means I cannot resist a run on “my” beach. Although the weather says summer, I know that it’s really fall because the life guard tower, present all summer long, is now gone. And, I can easily park near the beach even though it’s Saturday afternoon. The warm weather has brought out more than the normal beach lovers, but nowhere near the numbers that summer Saturdays produce. The wide beach means more sand for all of us: frisbee players, sunbathers, walkers, and runners.

I’ve started taking my Nano along and today it’s In Between Dreams (Jack Johnson). Jack’s good to run to. His percussion is prominent but not overpowering. It gives you your own metronome and lets you ease into your pace with the rhythm feeding your head. Plus, Jack’s music is just damn happy. Even when he’s singing about death (If I Could) “They say that new life makes losing life easier to understand” and being burned out (Breakdown) “I hope this old train breaks down then I could take a walk around,” his guitar and his voice are hopeful and up.

Hey, how do you spot the tourists on the beach? (This is a summer question, no doubt, but it feels like summer today.) My favorite summertime beach game is “Watch the Clueless Beach Loungers Get Inundated by the Incoming Tide.” I know this sounds rather elitist, but hey, it’s not elitist, it’s just local knowledge taking advantage of, well, non-local knowledge. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched groups laying on their towels or sitting in their beach chairs totally unaware that, yes, Martha, the waves do seem to becoming closer as time goes by. Oh, but the sand here is dry, and, well, it was dry when we got here, and wha? Martha! My towel! It’s wet! Did you see that wave? It came up to my towel? Quick, Johnny, grab the towel and the camera and the food and the chair, let’s move everything back one whole foot!

Oh, I am bad, so bad. Happy Trails to You.
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