I’ve been impressively sick. Well, that’s not true. My sickness wasn’t especially severe, but my response to it was. I was so brave.

I get sick about once a year, as does Ian, and we respond in equal and opposite extremes. Ian first denies his sickness and goes about his day with typical vigor. Sooner or later he succumbs, wordlessly dragging a pillow, a blanket, a mug of tea and a carton of juice up to our back room. I do not see him until he emerges, fully recovered and beating his chest, booming to the kitchen that he never gets sick.

Just about then I’ll catch whatever he (most definitely has not) had and, within moments, succumb like a wet baby bird. I don’t have the strength to lift my head or open my eyes. If I fell out of my house, I would not stand a chance in the wild. I insist that Ian rub my back and coo to me while I whimper unintelligibly and whip my nose on my sleeve and get mad it him for not knowing how to coo.

I wish I could share some get-well-soon tips, but I’m clearly not the one to ask.

What I can do is use this opportunity to show a little appreciation for my incredible body. (Stop laughing. You know what I mean.) Its ability to mend itself – to transform itself – is remarkable. On Wednesday I listened to movies all day because it was too hard to lift my eyelids. 24 hours later I was walking around the house like a champ, the next day I went upstairs, and the day after that I ran for half an hour. That first run was a little but sad, but the next day I ran a less-sad hour and if I continue this trajectory I’ll set a world record by friday.

Stay tuned for that.

-Julia

We haven’t written in 6 months.  We owe you an explanation.

Nothing terrible happened, just the same old story: Ian got injured and I ran slow.

It’s hard to write about yourself when you feel like a joke.

I really wish we would have kept on writing.  That’s why we started the blog, to share the whole messy ugly wonderful story, because that’s what makes it a story.  Nobody’s all ups, and wouldn’t that be irritating if they were.  We know that you don’t expect us to be positive every day.

I should have written about sitting on the infield with my spikes in my hard, sweaty and tired and confused.  “Am I kidding myself?  Am I persevering or am I just delusional?”

Ian should have written about a great workout, a welling excitement, “maybe I’m back, maybe it’s going to happen this time…” followed by a week on the couch hobbling back and forth to the bathroom.

——–

I don’t know how to make this transition in a concise and readable way, so I’ll do it gracelessly:

Everything sucked, and then it didn’t. Running is going really well now.  After track I went straight back to training, put in a lot of volume, ran a few road races and raced well. Ian took some time off, got healthy and then started back running on fresh, strong legs.  We’ll tell you a little more about all that in the next few days.

Pre-season training with the OTC is just getting started and I feel like a kid.  I’m excited to go to practice every morning, I have to resist the urge to wave at every passing runner (even when I’m in the car), and my adrenaline spikes at the words “running” and “track,” (even when they don’t pertain to the sport).

——–

Sooo…What do you say we try this again?

My poor, abused computer may or may not be giving off a death rattle. We’ll be back in business just as soon as possible!

Last night I ran my first 5k in 3 years.  The weather was perfect, the crowd was small but enthusiastic and no one there knew who the heck I was.  My plan was simple: go straight to the front and run as hard as I could.  I was alone 3 steps in and spent my last 9 laps chasing down lapped runners, every one of whom I could have kissed for the target they provided.  Though I faltered a bit in the middle, and I wish I would have pressed the last 600 more, and my brain was way too chatty, I got what I wanted out of it.  16:04 isn’t going to set the world on fire but it’s a step in the right direction.  I’m happy.

-Julia

Yesterday I jogged to the track with my spikes in hand. I did my typical day-before-a-race session: 20 minute warmup, 10 minutes of dynamic flexibility exercises and 10 minutes of drills. I changed into my spikes and shed my top layer, making a nest of discarded gear around me. I loosened up with a few easy strides, 6 in all, untimed and unmeasured getting faster as I went. I felt loose and light and bouncy. A good sign for the day before.

The only other person on the track for that half hour was an old man in a yellow cardigan walking the wrong direction in lane 1. He smiled at me every lap.

“Hey, Missy! You look like a runner,” he said.

“Yessir, on my good days I do.”

“You know, when I was your age I used to run like that, but you wouldn’t think it seeing me now. heh heh heh.”

“Oh, I’m sure y-…”

“I was the fastest in the school, Eugene High, South Eugene now, just right here.”

“Really, I…”

“The fastest in the school, but a’course, we didn’t have these tracks like you kids do.”

“Well, I know Eugene has….”

“Yeah, ran with Steve Prefontaine, you know that name?” I guess this guy was about 85, making him 25 years older than pre.

“Ohh, reall-…”

“yep, Pre, they called him. I called him Steve. He’d say, ‘Dick, come out for a run’. Heh heh heh.”

I’ll just cut Dick off here, though you should know that this is not where our conversation (can I call it that?) ended.

This old man is the best illustration I can come up with for why I’m excited to go run a race against myself with nobody watching. At first I was disappointed to have missed the high-calibre meets at Stanford and Mt. Sac and here at Hayward field. Now, I’m grateful to be allowed the baby steps.

I love the competition and the crowds and the pressure and the thrill of the race, but this will be my first 5k since 2008. In a few weeks I’ll face the pressure of my last shot at a qualifying time for nationals. A few weeks after that, in the National Championships, I’ll take to the track in front of the famed crowds of Hayward field and against no shortage of competition. I can’t wait.

But tonight at 9:00 PST at the Willamette University Track, I’m just going around in circles as fast as I can.

-Julia

PS But, that doesn’t mean I’m not nervous.

PPS We got a little off track with the post-a-day plan, but we’re not abandoning it.  You’ll here from me tomorrow, possibly in the wee hours from an adrenaline-flooded brain.

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If you are a running fan, and I can’t help but assume you are, you will eventually come to Track Town, USA. Maybe for the Olympic Trials. Maybe an NCAA championship. Maybe to run on Pre’s trail, lay a race number on his rock and take a lap at Hayward Field. No matter the reason you’ll likely have some free time between races or photo-ops and you’ll almost definitely plan on eating. I can help.

To get the most out of Eugene, you must understand this: It is 1 part Hippy Town, 1 part College Town, 1 part Track Town and 1 part I-been-hur-fer-seben-gen’rations-so-git-offa-mah-lawn Town. Each of the four components think the town belongs to them, and can’t stand the invasion of the other three. It’s an odd mix but, hey, it’s an odd town. I think you’re gonna like it here.

Explore the map above using the zoom buttons in the upper left hand corner.
Click on any of the icons or trails to explore our favorite places to eat, trails to run and things to do in Eugene.

Or, view Track Town icons in list form.

Here’s more info on the places to run in Eugene, along with a more detailed and inclusive map of the interconnected trails throughout the city.

Addendum: This city has as active a community as a city ever had, and is always putting on some sort of fest/event/show/block party. Check out Eugene Weekly to see what’s going on when you’re here.

Also, let me know how you like this format. I thought that seeing restaurants’ and runs’ proximity to the track might be helpful. But, you tell me!

-Julia

I’d like to know what the woman who teaches my yoga class thinks of me. I’m usually the tightest person in class by about a factor of two. When everyone else needs to use a block to support a pose I need three. Just sitting cross-legged on the floor is a struggle for me. But when most of the class is straining to hold a plank position, I can breath slow and easy.

I’ve thought about starting yoga for years, but the timing never seemed quite right. Then, early this spring when my calf was at its worst, I got an email from Groupon, offering half off a set of classes at Eugene Yoga. So I bought it. And, since I had money invested, I actually followed through and went to all the classes.

I’m now about two months in to regular yoga practice, which to me means one or two classes a week and a couple sessions on my own. I follow along with sessions from Yoga Today or YogaDowload.com. Although even some of the most basic poses are still hard for me I think I’m getting a lot out of this.

The goal isn’t to become flexible like a gymnast; the goal is just to gain a little more strength and range of motion in areas where I’m weak and tight. Like most runners, I have tight hips, hamstrings, calves, back, and shoulders. I know some tightness is good (for example, we’d all be much worse runners without the elastic power we get from the tension our Achilles Tendon holds) but I don’t think being so tight that I can’t sit comfortably on the floor is a good thing.

It’s easy to neglect things like flexibility when running is going well, but I can say without hesitation that from now on yoga will be a part of my training.

-Ian

PS In the above and below pictures Chap demonstrates downward dog, obviously, and follows it up with a pep talk.  Typical backyard yoga with Ian.

You learn more from a bad race than you do from good race. But, hey, what if I don’t want to learn anything else? What if I’d rather be fast and stupid?

Coming back sucks. I do not want to learn these lessons all over again. I have done that. I spent ten years making all the mistakes, learning from them, and getting to know every moment of my races.

Leading into Friday’s race, knowing that I’d be a rusty after 3 years without a track race, I visualized past races and reminded myself of all those things that I’m supposed to know:

I know that the 1st lap will be over before I have time to think about it and all I should do is get everyone out of my way. I know that the 2nd lap will feel wildly out of control and I will think that I should definitely slow down. I know that at that point I am wrong and that I should ignore myself. I know that my race starts with 800 to go when the middle distance runners start getting tired and falling back to me. I know to push the 3rd lap like it’s my last. I know that half-hearted moves do not work. I know that my kick is not like a 1500m runner’s kick, and that I should start it with 500m to go, and then again with 200. I know that there is always another gear.

But you, or at least I, don’t listen to my brain when it’s out of oxygen. There’s a difference between knowing something and absorbing it to the point of instinct. Like tying my shoes, the knowledge is more in my body than it is in my head. Or, it was.

It still is, I know it is. But, on Friday, hadn’t found it yet. I raced like a 14-year-old in gym class.

I’ve got 7 weeks to remember all this stuff, 4 more races to remind me and 7 days ’til my next shot.

-Julia

And, boy, did this turn out to be a race.  We didn’t get the start lists until this morning, and I was a little surprised to see Erin Donohue (2008 Olympian in the 1500) and Brie Felnagle (NCAA Champion in the 1500) at the top of the page!

I’ll be hoping that the pack follows Erin and Brie out fast, leaving me running as fast as I can in last place until halfway, when I can start picking people off.  I’m not so much worried about time as I am being competitive and aggressive all the way through.  But, anything until 4:20 would be just fine

The Oregon Twilight meet will be live at GoDucks.com beginning at 5:30, and it’ll be a good night of races all the way through.  I’ll run at 7:45 results will be here.

-Julia

For the first time since 2008 I am about to begin a track season. This is the plan:

Race #1 - Friday, May 6th @ 7:45 - 1500m at the Oregon Twilight - a chance to wake up these sleep-walking gams. (that’s tomorrow!)

Race #2 - Saturday, May 14th @ 9:05 - 5k at the West Coast Invitational - a first jab at the standard, hopefully with some competition.

Race #3 - aand….something else in here maybe? A time trial? A race? Do you want to race?

Race #4 - Saturday, June 11th @ 7:50 - 5k at the Portland Track Classic - Last race before…

Race #5 - Friday, June 24th @7:20 - 5k at US Nationals

I can’t write any more or I won’t be able to go to sleep.

-Julia