Category: running

Posted in running, seasons

It has to be summer

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Herbert Goetsch on Unsplash
Daily writing prompt
What is your favorite season of year? Why?
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When I used to run a lot, it felt so good to simply pull on shorts, socks, and shoes and hit the road on a summer day. Within half a mile, I had my rhythm, a little sweat covered my body, and my muscles felt nice and loose.

In the summer, you don’t have to worry about hats, gloves, or layers of clothing. The days are long, so it’s light out for an early morning run. I can feel the slightest breeze on all my exposed skin. I chuckle as random passersby comment, “It’s too hot to run!”

I really like summer. I like the heat and the humidity. Even though I use lots of sunblock now, I love to feel the sun’s heat on my skin. I love the feeling of sweat cooling my body. I appreciate the longer hours of daylight, love the early sunrise, and look forward to a late sunset.

Summer meant no school. Although, I kind of enjoyed school. Summer meant baseball, and a job at a major league stadium. Summer meant cutting the lawn weekly, a pleasant chore for me. Summer meant tomatoes and sweet corn from south Jersey, the Mr. Softie ice cream truck, Monday night 5K races at Lake Takanassee (NJ), my July birthday, and Vacation Bible School.

Now, summer means hurricane season in Florida. Summer means sporadic, hard-to-predict thundershowers. Summer is the season between the spring and fall gardening seasons in Florida. Summer means “I hope you had your AC serviced recently.” Summer means wear a hat, bring sunblock, and rent a cabin in North Carolina for a few weeks,

Summer is my favorite season of the year. Just about everyone else I know thinks I’m a little unbalanced to think so. You may be right. I might be crazy.

Posted in dogs, running, walking

Don’t worry about me. Just go.

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Alex Radelich on Unsplash

She stopped right in the middle of the road.

I shouted, “What are you doing?” I actually shouted that to the Great Dane who was, for once, obediently sitting next to me. We were just waiting for the traffic to pass so we could cross the street and continue our walk.

But this lady decided to stop. Right in the middle of the road. Right in the middle of a busy street.

Okay, let me explain. I’m a city boy. I grew up in suburban Philadelphia. You don’t walk out in front of traffic. Not if you don’t want to die. But here in Florida, people do it all the time. I know, pedestrians have the right of way. But that’s assuming pedestrians have looked both ways to see if any cars are coming.

The rules are different in Florida. I blame Walmart. In front of their store, cars have to stop for people walking through the striped areas of the parking lot. I watch many walk out without a glance for oncoming cars. I’m not so brave. I wait. I let them go. I don’t trust them. (I don’t trust anyone.) I’m not going to walk in front of any car, assuming it will stop for me.

So we are out for our morning walk. The Great Dane and I have crossed to the middle island of the four lane parkway that runs north and south through our city. She is doing well today. She sits next to me as we wait for the traffic to pass. I am ready to say, “Heel,” as the last car in a pack goes by. But the car slows and comes to a stop. Really? Just like that, when other cars are zipping by?

I’m not falling for that. We’re staying put. I simply look away, as if I don’t notice them at all. I’ll wait. I’ve got all day. Finally, they drive off, and we can cross the road.

I’ve had this problem running, too. I am pacing myself, waiting for a car to pass, and they slow down or stop. They think they are doing me a favor. I chuckle, and run around behind them. Just drive your car. Don’t worry about me. Just go.

I’ve run and biked enough miles that I know how to avoid people who aren’t paying attention, couldn’t care less, and probably shouldn’;t be driving anyway. You live longer when you’ve got some situational awareness and don’t trust anyone.

Posted in running

Victory! 5K run with the granddaughters

Posted on by William Douthwaite

An ocean of people stretched out for a hundred yards in front of us and even further behind us. In just a few minutes we would hear the starting gun for the Synovus 5K for charity run. My wife and I were walking/running this shorter race with three of our granddaughters, while their parents ran the longer Gate River Run 15K in Jacksonville, Florida. I pushed a stroller with the oldest of the girls (age 5), while my wife had a double stroller containing the younger sisters (ages 3 and almost 1). The downtown street was thick with 1,600 runners, so it took us over a minute to move through the starting gate. Even before we did, my granddaughter was urging me, “We’re going to have to go faster, Grandpa!”

We were able to walk at a brisk pace for the first mile or so. We passed one runner dressed up like a giant chicken, another couple dressed as Mario and Luigi, and a few firefighters in full gear. Before long, the participants were spaced out enough that we could run for hundred yard stretches, weaving in and out of walkers and slower runners.

Not too far into the first mile, at 9:00 am, we counted the nine bells of an old church carillon. At the halfway point, we drifted over to the right to grab a cup at the water station. I took a sip of the lukewarm liquid and handed the cup to my granddaughter. I asked, “How’s the water?”

“It’s delicious!”

Once we got to the two mile mark, my granddaughter saw some police car lights keeping traffic at bay and wondered out loud, “Is that the finish line?”

I explained, “No, we can’t see it yet. I’ll let you know when we’re we getting close.” We had that same conversation three times in the next half-mile.

For most of the race, my wife was a few yards ahead of us. This was a concern. “Grandpa, we need to go faster. LeeLee (her name for my wife) is going to smoke us!”

Finally, as we turned onto a slight downhill stretch, I could see the finish line ahead of us. I said, “There it is!” I ran the last quarter mile into the fairgrounds, and said, “Put your hands up in the air!” She did and proclaimed our victory (over LeeLee) as we crossed the finish line with a time of 43:11. My wife with her two riders finished just behind us. We didn’t get smoked after all.

I’ve run lots of 5Ks, along with an assortment of 10Ks, five mile runs, and a few marathons. But I’ve never finished a road race pushing a stroller.

Posted in Life, running

Going out for a Thanksgiving run

Posted on by William Douthwaite

My wife, younger daughter and I decided to run a 5k race this morning. It’s the first race I’ve run in I know don’t how long. I looked through some old journals, but haven’t been able to pinpoint the last time I ran a road race.

I signed us all up online last week and paid our entry fee. While five-mile races cost an average of $5 in the 1980s, I had to cough up $35 each for this race. Of course, you get a t-shirt (this year’s was bright orange!), a medal, electronic timing, and some of the proceeds supported a local food bank, so I guess that’s not so bad.

The fairly mild fall Florida weather suddenly turned cooler last night, and I woke to a fifty degree morning. Now I have to decide what to wear. It’ll be cool while waiting for the start, but I’ll generate plenty of heat once the race starts. Shorts for sure. My rule of thumb was always a t-shirt down to fifty, and a long sleeve t-shirt if it was colder than that. I never wear anything on my legs unless the temps dip below freezing. It’s been a while since I ran, so I opted for a long sleeve t-shirt with a light short t sleeve on top. Once we got going, a t-shirt would have been enough, but this worked.

We arrived about twenty five minutes before the start time. Many runners were already there. And they were dressed in everything imaginable. The male high school cross country runners were in shorts with no shirt. The season had just ended and they were in top shape. Quite a few runners and walkers were in tights, shirts, coats, vests, hats, and gloves. I saw lots of turkey hats. One woman had her head poked through a large cardboard thanksgiving dinner table, set with plates, silverware and fake food. I saw a few runners wearing tutus, too.

When we noticed the crowd drifting towards the starting line, we followed. Suddenly, a siren sounded and we were on our way. Everyone had to funnel through a ten-foot wide inflatable starting gate, so we didn’t really begin running for about ninety seconds.

We settled into a comfortable thirteen-minute-per-mile pace as the sun appeared above the tree line. It turned out to be a nice day for a run. The course took us through live oak canopied streets, sidewalks, and trails along the intracoastal waterway and then back towards the starting area. Cups of water were available at the halfway point. I always take advantage of the water, even though it was only a three mile run. The course was well marked, and lots of sheriffs deputies were out to control traffic and keep an eye on the runners.

We only took a couple of short walking breaks. We passed many walkers who had started toward the front of the pack. We were passed by many serious runners who had gotten stuck in the crowd behind us. It always takes about a mile for the crowd to thin out and you find yourself among those running your pace.

Without any split designations, I could only guess how far we had run. Suddenly (at least for me), we rounded a corner and there was the finish line. We all finished together in the vicinity of forty minutes. Race results were online by the time we got home, letting us know we had all finished in the top half of all who came out today. The overall winner was a young man who finished in just under fifteen minutes. I believe he was one of the local high school cross country runners. The last person crossed the finish line just under the one hour mark.

This was my wife’s first official race. My daughter had run a few before. And I ran a lot of road races in my twenties. When you run with a crowd, you often do better than you would alone. Once you’ve finished, you start thinking about your next one, training more, and running faster next time. And of course, no matter how hard or easy the race was, it gives you an excuse to eat whatever you want for Thanksgiving!