Levi and Animal Signs

Levi Leipheimer’s King Ridge GranFondo

Both Craig and Karyn from Team Lucca, participated this past Saturday in this years annual Santa Rosa cycling event hosted by last years Astana, this years, Team Radio Shack Team member, Amgen Tour winner and pro cyclist, plus Northern California native and all in all really great guy, Levi Leipheimer. I called Craig early Saturday evening to see how it all went. He was like a kid in a candy store telling me all about how he got to ride the majority of the ride with about twenty other guys right next to Levi. Crazy amazing Karyn, is just an exceptional athlete, and not only rode that 100 miles on Saturday but then ran as a pace setter for the Cowtown marathon on Sunday.

Thank you Craig and Kayrn. It was and is an honor to have both of you, excellent cyclists representing our team.

Animal Signs

My dad was an Irishman in love with Native American culture. When we would go on summer family road trips as kids dad would often bring along his drum. He would sit cross legged in the middle of the lawn at the motel beating and chanting while the six of us did the eagle dance, the rain dance, the hoop dance, the dance to call the buffalo.

Sometimes other kids from other families would join us.

Sometimes people took pictures like we were a traveling band of entertainers.

Sometimes people would look around for a cup to throw money into.

The fact that dad was an Apache or Cherokee or Ogalala Sioux at heart and also a veterinarian, gave him the notion that he uniquely understood the souls of all animals.

Dad use to talk to use about the importance of reading animal signs.
Laughingly I thought, today was a day I wished I would have listened.

On my bike commute to work, the skittish squirrels should have been the first sign.

It was squirrels gone wild all over the trail. First I notice five of these little guys altogether (unusual) running down an embankment like their tails are on fire. All five almost simultaneously dove across the trail right in front of my bike. Over the next three miles, squirrels are everywhere. All somewhat spastic including one fat little guy who I think, buddy you’ve lived a good life so far, lets not end it this way, as his tail barely flicks off my front wheel.

I am slightly more attuned to every deviation of my surroundings now on the trail as a result of a man being attacked a couple weeks ago. So when I ride over a long green twine that looks as if it is made out of young branches stripped from a tree, my mind automatically thinks - bike trap. Contemplating this, I about jump off the seat when a whole flock of birds flies squawking out of a tree as if there very existence has been suddenly interrupted.

Around the next corner I see for the first time a live skunk. Sorry, but I have seen plenty dead ones. Still thinking of the twine, was it a booby trap, an animal trap, just a long very skinny fallen young branch, or my hyper imagination, I consider calling my police officer friend as soon as I get to work.

I then ride past something I never like to see, and that always causes a shot of fear and adrenaline, what looks to be a drug deal going down under the bridge.

I get to the only major stop sign on that part of the trail and see a police car approaching. I stop. He slows down and hollers at me, “Mame! Have you seen a man all dressed in tan?”. I begin to answer, “I saw two….”, and before I can even say the word “things” he yells, “Not now mame! have you seen that man?” I say “No” and he jumps out lowers the bar to access the trail in his car and takes off in pursuit. I jump back on my bike and ride even faster all the way to work.

I did speak with David Valdez, my police officer friend who stops by Lucca on a regular basis to check in on us and also called SABA, Sacramento Area Bicycle Advocates, to talk about safety on the trail.

I love riding to work. To be honest I do it not as a noble endeavor in pursuit of a green lifestyle or even as a means of burning calories and increasing the health of my heart and lungs. Though I am grateful for these additional benefits. The real reason I ride, is because I cherish so much, the tranquility of that time. The trail is a sanctuary for me from the onslaught of endless activity that takes place in two thankfully still fairly busy restaurants.

I am seriously contemplating solutions to my own safety out there.
I cannot fathom the idea of not riding.

But for now I will ride a safer route and in thinking of my father, will pray to the spirit of all living things to look out for me and in honor of my Catholic Grandmothers, say the little catholic diddy, three times in row that I was taught as a child to say to the saint who oversees safe travel “Saint Christopher, pray for us, Saint Christopher pray for us, Saint Christopher, pray for us.”

Running in Rome, Dick Beardsley, Kaitlin's Cowtown Half Marathon

It was the opportunity of a lifetime to celebrate my 50th birthday with my husband in Capri and Rome, Italy, this past week.

My friend Rick Kushman suggested that if I wanted to get some running in, we stay the last two days in Rome at a hotel, where he and Deborah had recently stayed, situated right next to the 2000 year old Aurelian Wall and the incredibly beautiful Villa Borghese Park.

Early Monday morning Ron grabbed his book and I grabbed my running shoes. While he sat on a bench to read I took off running. After five days of airplane, train, boat and suicidal taxi travel, a lot of walking, a lot of hiking, it was sheer happiness to feel my lungs expand as I ran along, taking in air like the espresso fueled Ferrari I imagined myself to be. Truth is much more like a broken down old Fiat, but yes, I have always had a vividly skewed imagination

As a runner I have been lucky enough to have many “carve this on your heart” moments running in places like the lovely, pristine, bucolic, pastoral side roads of Ron’s birth place in Ireland, the bustling, exquisite, golden streets of Paris and the spiritual, sacred, tranquil rocks of Moab - all of these places teaming with ancient pathways and ancient stories. And now Rome and this park with it’s statues of gods and goddess, warriors and kings, dragons and lions and fountains at every turn. Who could ask for more?

We arrived home very early Thursday morning.
Long before we left I presented Dusty, my friend at Fleet Feet Sports with the idea of doing a runner’ symposium with a panel of Sacramento’s top running people discussing pertinent running topics. He thought it was a good idea and the symposium expanded to include Dick Beardsley, the famous national champion runner who tells the wonderful, sometimes hysterical, other times tearful story of his life as a runner and the infamous Boston Marathon “Duel of the Sun” with Alberto Salazar.

This symposium took place the same day I returned from Italy with myself in a semi catatonic, very tired, very happy and still passionate about running state, responsible for moderating the discussion and the evening event.

Many thanks to our brilliantly spoken panelists, especially my friend Rick Kushman who figuratively, held my hand through the whole event, helped me prepare for it and is, and always will be, one of my running inspirations.
Rick gave wonderful advice on balancing your life so as to always enjoy running. My friend Deborah Meltvedt was wonderful discussing the value of using your mind as a runner and the joy of running with friends. Chad Worthen talked about speed, how hard you have to work to get fast, being realistic about speed work, and what makes him so darn fast. Pat Sweeney kept us all laughing describing the commitment he and his family have made to his training as a tri-athlete and hysterically and adequately described the “death march” of the marathon segment of an Iron man event.
Pat left the next day for the Iron Man championship race in Kona, which he will participate in this upcoming weekend. We all are rooting big time for Sacramento’s own Pat Sweeney.

We also heard great advice from the always insightful, top guy with the Sacramento running scene, and one of my favorite guys in Sacramento, Rich Hanna, who gave great tips on racing.

All in all it was a really great night.

We then moved on to the real star of the weekend the Cowtown Marathon, Half Marathon, 5K. Many people talk about running a marathon or half marathon. Many people think they would like to do one. Few people actually see it through.

I had 12 runners participate with Team Lucca. Yet for me it was all about one person. She started running less than a year ago and diligently got up early many mornings, with either our running group, sometimes just me and often by herself to train for this event.

Many races in the past my focus ultimately strays to one person, someone who I know has been working especially hard to become faster, someone running for the first time, someone recently disappointed or disillusioned about their running ability.

This race was no different. This race in my mind was all about Kaitlin Coghlan.
Kaitlin is my kind of runner. She has the grit and tenacity to stay with the game plan, the passion to make running part of the pattern of her days, the energy of a 6 year old at our 5:30 am Wednesday mornings tempo runs with coach Emily, the honesty to figure out how to live her life and still maintain a commitment to running.

I had to laugh the night she left me a text message saying she was going to go out and would be drinking, maybe a lot, so wouldn’t be there for that Saturday am run but would find a way to make it happen at some other point in her week.

I stood there glued to the finish last Sunday, waiting to see that long brown pony tail, that black baseball cap, that Team Lucca jersey, that smile that says; I have just conquered the world.

As a runner, I relish that blazing moment of pride. The look that crosses a runners face mere yards from the finish line. The sudden recognition of what has been achieved. The knowledge that – yes, yes, yes, I knew the pain, I did the distance, I gave the time.

I did this!

Kaitlin’s finish and that beautiful smile literally brought tears to my eyes.

I know how much it means. I know of the nerve racking night before when sleep is fit full and laden with anxiety. I know the pain of those last miles. I know the hours afterward and the introspection of the soul that comes with accomplishing a huge goal.

You did it Kaitlin and in amazing time. Now remember – it’s back out there very soon again on Wednesdays mornings, as our whole life is the journey and truly after fifty years I know this - “the journey is the reward”