Fitness Files: You don’t have to finish, just start

Recently my editor emailed me a reader’s comment regarding my column:

“I’m trying to be respectful here,” the writer said, “but please write about something we can use. Your running articles are a waste of time. I had to laugh when you said, ‘Running is not my main interest.’”

I took his respectful submission seriously and wrote articles on stroke recovery, balance, therapeutic interaction with animals, and the rejuvenating function of studying the arts.

Today I’m back to running. Stick with me, sir. See if there’s something you can use.

Sunday, March 20, 5 a.m. “Swiss early” for a 7:40 race around Fashion Island.

Evie picked me up. It was a reunion. Cristina, her daughter-in-law, who’d run the Carlsbad Marathon with us, was in town from Oregon to deliver a talk on “Women in Science.” We were back together to run Newport-Mesa Schools Foundation’s Spirit Run.

The Carlsbad Marathon took me an hour longer than former marathons, so I understood that my speedy finishes were a thing of the past. I was unhappy about slowing but also accepting. Strangely, slowing has made me value running more.

Experiencing loss, I appreciate what remains, continuing my weekly workout schedule. Running cures insomnia, aids digestion, contributes to youthful energy and optimism.

Racing is optional. I would not have signed up for the Spirit Run without Evie’s prodding, but with news of Cristina’s advent, I was glad I did. An animal biologist and back-country ranger who recently became a licensed emergency medical technician, or EMT, Cristina can share Sierra adventures, teach about owls and save our lives.

We arrived at the Spirit Run in the dark, too early to pick up our numbers for the 10K — 6.2-mile — run, so we sat in Evie’s warm car, talking

What’s your goal pace?” Cristina asked me. “Ten-minute-miles?”

“Well, I’ve been working out at 12-minute miles,” I told her.

“Then it’s 11-minute miles,” the practical Cristina figured.

I nodded.

Race started at 7:40 under overcast sky, temperature around 58 degrees, hint of moisture in the air — perfect race weather. Feeling peppy, I took off. Forgetting to start my pace watch, I switched it on about a half-mile into the race, expecting to come up with a 10- or 11-minute reading. It did.

Then I remembered my new strategy — speed up for a half block to a stop sign or tree. Turning up the pace takes me to another gear, extending past the short goal ahead. New time on watch, 9 minutes and 40 seconds! The miles flew by, each time my watch signaling a 9 1/2-minute mile.

Comfortable, not working hard, I circled Fashion Island twice, happily surprised by my speed. I did not feel winded or fatigued, although my pace was minutes faster than usual.

Runners talk about “race day magic,” where unexpected power brings speed. I did not have it for Carlsbad. I did Sunday.

With the finish in sight, Cristina and Evie, who’d crossed the line five minutes ahead, ran on either side of me, shouting, “You’re flying, just like the old days!” Indeed, I had excess energy to sprint in, finishing 6.2 miles fresh and rested.

I wish I could retain that speed, but today on the El Morro hike, I lagged behind. Evie called back, “Hey, you have no excuses. We know what you can do.”

Trying harder than I did yesterday, I struggled to climb El Morro’s Poles trail, tying to keep pace with those quick-legged-hikers. Couldn’t.

In any case Sunday, bubbling over with post-race endorphins, Evie, Cristina and I walked to the “results tent” to check our times. Evie’s read first place, 54:29, with a pace of 8 minutes, 46 seconds. Cristina, who tosses off 30-mile races in her hometown of Ashland, Ore., got eighth but only because she slowed to pace Evie.

“I could have placed too,” she said, looking at her age group.

My time was 59:09, pace of 9 minutes, 32 seconds per mile. First place in my age group.

So what message can nonrunning readers take from this road race around the perimeter of a shopping mall? My typical days fall into a repeated pattern. Race days interrupt the routine with the excitement of the start, test of limits and sisterhood or brotherhood of working hard with friends.

There lies the message. Do something out of your comfort zone, anything that puts reasonable demands upon you. It’s a thrill. The brain thrives on novelty.

Newport Beach resident CARRIE LUGER SLAYBACK, since turning 70, has run the Los Angeles Marathon and the Carlsbad Marathon.