cracking (the) walnut

los angeles is a destination city. it's not really a destination for me, but a destination city none-the-less. people stream into the los angeles area, an area that apparently has no beginning or end, like how baby piglets suckle: in a smashing rush of violent panic that sends the runts (out of towners) looking with urgency for an opening- which in most cases leads to the carpool lane. luckily i was travelling in my favorite road trip vehicle: the minivan. the minivan (calm down ladies...) is quite an engineering miracle. i ride high above the road with a good sound system obliterating my eardrums and have the handling of a porsche (really, ask a porsche owner). also included in the features of the mv is its ability to be smashed without the driver feeling a thing- at least that is the accusations of the rental agency. but despite the awesome eyecatching glimmer of the ride and its invitation to keep on truckin', i wasn't down for a vacation. i was there to climb to the apex of mt. sac.

mt sac (mt. san antonio college) is a track meet about 45 years old that i have attended every year save one, i think, since my days at university. this simple algebra finds x=8 years. i've seen everything at mt sac, from great track races to female boxing matches- all accompanied by a sizzling sunburn from my pavement pounding long run after each year's race. the only thing i haven't seen at mt. sac is a pr next to my name after my event.

the 5k, my punishment of choice this weekend (all races at mt. sac are punishing in some respects) was slated to host a meager 71 athletes in the field. 71 ATHLETES!!! i did not even know companies made hip numbers for anything over 25. note: companies don't make numbers over 20, athletes must put numbers together to form that giant numeral attached to a racer's shorts- it might as well be a cape as far as i'm concerned. 71 as drastically absurd as it sounds made the starting 51 seem rather bland. until the race began:

as soon as the gun cracked, i (and my low number 12) thrust my right elbow as hard as possible into the pack attempting to crash down on the rail. every idiot college kid wants to run on the rail right from the gun and since runners are numerically lined up from the rail, i had a lot of shoving to get done. my elbow (acting alone, i swear) cleared just enough space for me to get out before the second alley of runners tumbled into lanes 1 through 3 by 200m. i reached 200m in 29 seconds, roughly as fast as the milers later in the weekend, but in a comfortable mid 30 pack.

i spent most of the race on the outside in lane 2 running 65 second effort in order to not get boxed in against the race. 65, although fast, translated into 67-68 times for each 400m. 4:33 first mile, 9:07 at 2 miles, then i tried to hold my head together. the last mile has always been tough, and i've usually caved but found the slower early pace had actually been a blessing. my 4:38 last mile and quick 31 second last 200m (in lane 2.5) allowed my to compete. i wish i had run harder the last mile, but there was so much chaos i was lucky to stay on my feet. i finished in 14:16, a seasonal best. and was actually fairly pleased with the effort. racing is much more enjoyable when i do not slaughter myself before the 3rd mile.

following the race, a handful of us celebrated the end of the weekend's big work. each of us devoured a medium pizza apiece (after the Endurox R4, of course) and rambled on about ridiculous nonsense like oprah's marketed sex appeal and why turtles are good mascots for beer. then, around 2am we called it a night.

in my years at mt sac, i have dreaded the long run the day after the race much more than anything the evening race could throw at me. i've run roughly 115 miles in and around walnut california and am welcoming the absence of another 15-17 mile firebath in the future. but the future is just that...future.

after getting kicked off a perfectly good shaded trail by a grouchy set of wrinkles in a pickup truck, i coaxed the fellas to a secure group of exposed trails high above the east side of the town of diamond bar. and after a 7 minute loop around the brand new community center it was established the trailheads were now handicap parking stalls. 2 of the 5 adventurers called it a day and sulked back to the van, disgusted with the feeble long run attempt and annoyed that they didn't actually DO a long run. nobody wants to do a long run when they get home from a plane ride, i assure you. because i was stuck driving the minivan back, i had to do my long run and probably guilted, somehow, the remaining 2 guys to tag along. it was hot and unpleasant, but at least it was done. weekend work was complete.

racing early in the weekend really gives me a lot to think about alone in a hotel room. perhaps the most striking thought is how i was alone in the hotel room. usually a roommate keeps me company and i'll find the glow of free hbo enough to pass the time, but neither was the case in walnut. i am beginning to feel more and more removed from the rest of the team, partly because of lifestyle (i don't live in a trackhouse anymore) and partly because of age. in my desperate attempt to run fast and have fun, i've lost touch with how that happens: track must be your life. funny thing is track IS my life right now- i've quit my job, live alone, and am trying to leave the country (for the best reason: lauren). it sounds pathetic now rather than the celebration of life that track and running can provide. rather than letting running be the only thing left in life that seems interesting, i should actively choose running to be my focus. overall, that revelation is more valuable than any pr mt sac can provide. so do i want this?