Summary: 10K, 46:59, 7:34 pace per mile (7:27 by my Garmin), 3AG, 23rd overall

This poor guy says everything to me about this race in 2012. The crust of snow on one side of his head, snow sometimes driving into our faces as we run along.

But the event itself was a lot of fun and very well organized.

I originally signed up because my coach wanted me to run some shorter races to assess my fitness level and how much work we need to do on reaching my goals. She suggested this race. I had never heard of it, but my friend Ron Sklar had run it before, and said it had been featured in Runner’s World.

Course: Very flat and very straight country roads. The race is outside of Turner, Oregon, which is a little country town southwest of Salem. Flat open fields on both sides of the course with almost no wind breaks or obstacles. Different race distances (2 mile, 10K, Half marathon) are just different turnaround points on the course, which were very well marked. Because of the way the course and start times are set up, a 10K runner could end up seeing everyone participating in the race at some point (except for early Half Marathon starters).

Organization: The start and finish is just outside the gym of Cascade Junior High School, so runners can stay warm and dry before and after the race. Hot showers after the race! That’s a very nice feature. Chip timing with the runner’s number on the chip. Terrific organization in the awards ceremony – they started on time, and moved very efficiently through the winners.

Food: Hot chicken noodle soup, artisan breads from Great Harvest Bread Company, cookies, coffee and water. Yum! I admit, I helped myself to two bowls of soup because it was very warming and nourishing post race.

Bling: The 10K and Half Marathon finishers had a decent medal, age groups were every 5 years and top three finishers in each AG had an additional medal. For top finishers in each age group over 50, there was a $100 certificate from Gallagher Sports in Salem. Long sleeve technical shirts for everyone with the Willamette Valley Road Runner  logo. There were lucky draw door prizes, and I took home a free car wash – plus hot wax!

This year’s run: Yeah, it’s January in the Willamette Valley of Oregon, so generally the weather is in the 30s or 40s with rain and wind possible. This year, we had our first snowfall of the year the day before, with no accumulation on the highways. But when the 10K started, there was steady snow falling with a driving wind. The effect of this was to have all sides of your body crusted with snow at some point. This was not a big problem except for heading straight into the snow.

At this point, runners without glasses would get blinded by globs of snow. If you run with your mouth open, you could meet some of your hydration needs.

I did a two mile warm-up run before the race, starting with aerobic running and adding in 30 second strides, so my heart rate was already close to aerobic at the start. My mile splits clearly show that I started out a little too fast (7:08, 7:15) because the next four miles were quite a bit slower (7:39, 7:39, 7:34, 7:38). The last third of a mile was at 6:57, so I was clearly trying to haul buns at the end.

I did come in 3rd in my age group, so I got some hardware. The winner of my age group averaged under 7:00 minutes per mile, so I was blown out by him. The maddening thing was that the guy who won second in my age group finished only 9 seconds ahead of me! It wouldn’t have been much different, the ribbon on my AG medal would have been red rather than white, but it’s still incredible how close I came to the next place up.

I was fortunate though that a couple of the fast guys in my age group who I recognize didn’t run. That probably helped me the most.

Some perspective: This is just a point along the journey of training. To meet my training goals, I need to run a marathon (26.2 miles) at this same pace of 7:30. So I have a lot of work to do!

This race is terrific and I highly recommend it.

"I like to think about the life of wine. How it’s a living thing. I like to think about what was going on the year the grapes were growing; how the sun was shining; if it rained. I like to think about all the people who tended and picked the grapes. And if it’s an old wine, how many of them must be dead by now. I like how wine continues to evolve, like if I opened a bottle of wine today it would taste different than if I’d opened it on any other day, because a bottle of wine is actually alive. And it’s constantly evolving and gaining complexity. That is, until it peaks, like your ’61. And then it begins its steady, inevitable decline." – Maya, "Sideways", 2004

I have heard that more than 90% of wine is consumed within 48 hours of purchase. That sounds about right to me.

For the other roughly 10%, why resist temptation and keep your wine longer? There are a couple of reasons:

• Good wines are not consistent from one year to the next. I did this little experiment one time with a group: I poured a glass from a 2007 Belle Pente Pinot Noir and set it next to a 2008. Same exact vineyard and grape type, just one year separated them. The visual difference was stunning – the 2007s are might lighter in color compared with the super dense 2008s, which was a very special year in the Willamette Valley of Oregon. So if you find a year or a vineyard that you really like, buy up as much as you can afford so you will have it on hand. Some time later, you likely won’t be able to find it.
• As the character Maya from Sideways says, wines change in character over time. Many nice French and American wines do not actually taste very good when they are young. They taste "closed", which means they can taste acidic and not very interesting. After a few years of resting, they become much more drinkable.
• Even a good tasting young wine will taste better if you let it settle for a couple of days to a week.
• Not every wine should be saved a long time to be appreciated. In fact, most white and rose wines should be consumed within a year of purchase, with the possible exception of Chardonnay or white Burgundy. But still it’s nice to have a few around that you like.
• Everyone goes through times which are lean financially, when you need to cut back on expenses – I know I have. In those times, it’s nice to know that you can still enjoy something that you have saved from better times.

Most of us don’t need a lot of help keeping track of the wines we have saved. We don’t have hundreds or thousands of bottles in a massive show-off cellar. Maybe we just have a "small gathering in a cabinet," as with Miles in Sideways.

But if you are like me, you find yourself wandering the aisles of your supermarket’s wine section, and you see what looks like an amazing deal on a wine you think you might want to buy. Is it really the one I enjoyed? Can I afford to add this to my little collection?

A lot of old winos use the paper log method or put something into a spreadsheet on their computer or they just don’t bother.

Last summer I switched to CellarTracker, which is a free service on the web, and I have strongly recommended it to my friends. Besides tracking your own wine, it’s a social networking thing, so it leverages the universe of 180,000 users and nearly 20 million bottles of wine being tracked, as .

The things I love about it:

• Entering new wines is much faster than the spreadsheet method – if you type in part of the name, the system uses its huge and growing database to guess which wine you are talking about. Normally lots of information is already populated, making data input quick.
• When it displays the contents of your cellar, the alphabetic sort is "smart" about wine names. This means that "Domain Serene" is sorted with the S’s, but "Domaine Drouhin" is sorted with the D’s. Cute!
• There are some terrific apps for your personal device which accesses the same data. The Android and iPhone app I use is called "cor.kz" which gives a nice phone-friendly access to the device. On the iPad, the regular web interface is fine, or I also like "CellarVU" which is a lot of fun.
• Wines are shown with suggested drinking windows. This means you can get immediate advice on whether you should drink that bottle of Cabernet now or leave it in the box for a few more years. (In general, I think the concept of predicting drinking windows is suspect at best, but it’s kind of fun anyway).
• Tasting notes and ratings from members of the community on your wine. Also of mixed value since everyone’s palate is different, but still it’s fun.
• Keeping track of bottles consumed. Many times I am interested not only what I have now, but what I used to have.

Although it is free, there are some other cool features which become available if you pay them some money. (There are suggested donations based on the size of the cellar being tracked).

• Wine Value – I don’t have good records for how much I paid for most of my wine. No matter – CellarTracker will attempt to set a value based on its vast database of information other members have entered.  This isn’t perfect, because I have wines which date back to the 70s and 80s and there are no recorded values for these. But it’s kind of fun to have them tell me how much it thinks my wine is worth.
• Ratings from third-party services – I’m not a huge fan here, but there are some additional ratings available

There are other features which I don’t use much, like all kinds of reporting features. I can strongly endorse and recommend CellarTracker for any size collection of wine.

My new running coach has me signed up for a couple of races, a 10K this coming Sunday and a 5K in February.

Shorter races in a training program are great for a couple of reasons:

• They get you in the mode of racing. When you race, your mind is much more focused on pushing yourself, far more than any regular run.
• It’s a good way to evaluate your current fitness level at this stage of the training.
• As a bonus, I find that I’m much more likely to actually win an age group award, since these shorter races are much smaller than the half marathons or marathons I run.

The picture I grabbed above (with apologies) is actually about cross-country racing that my local newspaper, the Oregonian, used in a post about a cross-country race.  I thought it expresses the flip-side of shorter races:

• As with any winter running, these races can be mucky, chilly, windy, messy or all of the above. The weather can definitely be a factor in your final time, as well as the course.
• As my friend Marc Frommer comments, you really do need to run all-out on these races. There is no concept of getting into a comfortable jog or a slightly uncomfortable push. You are in pain and probably cursing yourself for such foolishness.
• The 5K is actually not too bad, since you’re over with it before you know it. Unless you hurt yourself, of course.

What does this say about someone who would want to sign up for an event like this? Even if you are not heavily into training, racing is a great way to get some challenge in your running. There is nothing like the excitement of a race to get your blood pumping and get fired up.

As such, I can’t say I’m looking forward to these, but they are now on my race calendar:

January 15, 2012

• 13th Annual Cascade Half Marathon, 10k, and 2-miler (Turner) (I’m running the 10K)

When: Early start for the half at 8a, 10k and 2-miler at 8:30a, regular start for the half at 9a

Where: Cascade Jr. High School (10226 SE Marion Rd., Turner OR, 97392)

Register: Online HERE; Download an entry form to mail in HERE; or register in person at Gallagher Fitness Resources at 135 Commercial St NE in downtown Salem.  The event is limited to the first 1000 entries.

February 12, 2012

• 8th Annual Valentine Fanconi Anemia Run/Walk 5K, 8K, 12K (Portland) (I’m running the 5K)

Where: Downtown Portland under the Morrison Bridge.

Register: Online HERE.

My Dad died over the holidays, on December 29, 2011. We had his memorial service the following Tuesday, on January 3.  My two sisters and I all spoke for a few minutes at the service. Here is what I read.

 

 

People say I look like Dad – same receding hairline, same wide hips. But there are a few deeper things within me which I find reflects who John Morrow Stewart was.

One is, we built things together: we built a Pinewood Derby car together when I was in 6^th grade that won first place. We built stereo speakers together and the stereo receiver, a Heathkit. And now, I manage engineers for a living, people who build things.

He traveled the world over: many times even with us his kids, which must have been painful some of the time. From Edmonton, Canada to Iguacu Falls, Brazil, I traveled with him and sat through countless slide shows of his travels. And now, I have been to 25 countries and been to China alone 32 times.

He worked hard: He valued putting his whole being into work, not retiring until he was in his 80s. He was frugal with a dollar, and we did not live extravagant lives. But he played hard too and put his whole being into his passions as well, like orchids and photography (more endless slide shows). He challenged me to be great, and in the end he affirmed me, as recently as two days before his stroke, saying, “You turned out well.” And now I too work hard and play hard, challenge others and try to affirm others.

He took care of himself: He did calisthenics every morning for as long as I can remember, he took the stairs to his third floor office at the Medical School and chided me when I got winded climbing those flights. He would tell me if I had put on some weight. He ate right but he ate well. And he lived to a good old age, full of years. And now, I try to take care of myself as well.

There are the little things a father teaches a son. How to tie a tie. Clip your fingernails after a shower, the nails are softer then. Never split infinitives.

But deep within him was his spiritual nature. One of my earliest memories of sitting in church was during a prayer I would have my eyes open, as small boys will do, and I remember looking at Dad and watching him pray, seeing him with his eyes closed. He taught me to honor God and to believe. We were not without some disagreements on details. But Dad was connected with the divine and powerful. He forms part of my image of my heavenly Father, and this influence for me will probably last the longest.

I will miss you, Dad because you are a part of me.

On the day after Christmas this year, we were watching a movie, something we enjoy doing together as a family. The latest Mission Impossible movie, with my brother-in-law, and our phones were silenced. When the lights came up, we listened to our voice mail and got the bad news – Dad had suffered a stroke and was in the hospital.

When someone died in ancient times, the highest complement you could be paid (for example in the Bible) was "he died at a good old age, an old man and full of years." That’s a good description of my Dad. At 87 years old, he had survived our mother, he had made countless contributions to human knowledge, had worked until he was 83 years old doing something he loved, and had his whole family with him.

His stroke affected him profoundly, for example he could not swallow and was sleeping almost all of the time. His status was complicated by an existing Parkinsons-like neurological condition which had eroded his quality of life severely. He was increasingly unhappy at his dwindling capability. The neurologist told us he was not going to recover, even to the degraded point he was at before the stroke.

Dad was always very clear to us about his desire not to be kept alive through feeding tubes or extraordinary means. He was completely clear about that point, and I felt like we had to respect his values and his wishes. So the three children together with Dad’s wife, our stepmother, made the choice to move him into care at Porter Hospice in Denver. He would be moved from active care to comfort care to ease his transition. I have high complements for the staff at Swedish Medical Center and Porter Hospice, who were very compassionate and professional, not pushing anything on us, and at Porter creating a very comforting and comfortable environment for Dad and for our family.

This morning I took a run around my sister’s neighborhood outside Denver. I thought how much my running helps me understand dying a little better. I’m not acclimated to Colorado’s high altitude. So I am gasping and struggling for breath, my legs feel fatigued and I am slipping on patches of ice remaining on sidewalks.

I thought about Dad lying in bed in hospice, breathing rapidly as pneumonia gradually made it harder to take in air. How the very act of trying to move would be so fatiguing trying to work through disobeying nerves.

Once you stop running, you can usually catch your breath. You can rest your muscles and recover from fatigue. But Dad couldn’t rest from his journey until the end. Hospice staff is well trained so that there is no perception of suffering at the end. It is quite peaceful from the patient’s perspective. I think that there may be more suffering for the family as they sit and wait for an undetermined time for the end.

Running has helped me to feel in a very tiny way some of what Dad might feel, and also to know that what seems painful now will end. In any training run or race, there is an end, a finish line. Pain must sometimes be endured for a time, even as patience wears thin. There is a time for all things, as it says, even a time to die. "He has made everything beautiful in its time."

Dad passed away this morning, crossing the finish line, accepting his medal and resting.

Films these days usually start with a little animated moment identifying the production company. The first time you realize that The Artist is a completely different kind of movie is that these little vanity logos are played without any sound. Someone in our audience said, "They’re really serious about this being a silent movie!"

But soon enough the orchestra chimes in and the credits roll. But Artist never lets you get away from it’s innovation, or the rather scary relevance of its story.

• The story takes place in the late 1920s and early 30s in the transition to talking movies. But it looks and sounds like a silent movie you might see in the days before talking pictures. Not only is the image black and white, but it is a low-contrast and soft-focus look common to movies of that era.
• But before you can relax and think that this will be a complete rip-off of the era of silent pictures, a character flips her middle finger at a show-off actor, demonstrating her displeasure at being upstaged. Who says clear communication needs the spoken word?
• Like Singing in the Rain, Artist is about that major technological and cultural transition from silent movies to talkies, and a particular silent screen actor caught up in the transition.
• I found myself thinking about many workers today who have been caught in the gears of economic and social change and their inability to transition to new kinds of work. This is a story for all of us, but particularly as we have met with our own Great Recession in one way or another.
• Watch carefully throughout for some knowing winks at the audience – some really "meta" moments, like when the movie star hero is really depressed and walks in front of a movie theater called the "Lonely Star."

The Artist has some serious Oscar buzz. It is a good story but also quite innovative. Wonder what it says about this year’s most innovative movie is also the most retro.

Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol is probably the best one of the series, and a terrific action movie.

• Tom Cruise (the person) is adored or reviled in the public’s mind because of his personal antics, but in MI-4 he again throws himself into his role with gusto. Whether it is climbing on the outside of the world’s tallest building or sprinting after the bad guys, Cruise is an athletic and intense action hero who looks like he is working his tail off.
• Fans of the original television series from the 1960s and 70s get a couple of nice payoffs, like the opening titles appearing with a burning fuse over a montage of scenes from the movie.  In other parts of the movie, gizmos from the original TV show (like a temporary screen thrown up in a corridor to fool a guard) get a 2011 update, with a few comic twists thrown in.
• There are a few cameos of characters from earlier Mission Impossible movie installments, which have been coming out since 1996, but have no fear that you won’t appreciate MI-4 if you have not seen 1 through 3.
• The original TV show usually involved insanely complex plots which go off like clockwork. The movie realizations are usually about what goes wrong with the best laid plans. Post-modern mythic deconstruction prefers to show the vulnerability and weakness of our heroes rather than their perfect planning and execution.
• Also in the theme of mythic deconstruction, there are terrorists here, and the story visits the Middle East, but the terrorists are not Arab or Indian.
• This is not to say that the story is free of all mythic stereotypes, like the hard-bitten Russian police agent.
• The IMAX presentation was quite immersive in its visuals and sound. In one memorable example, a vehicle leaps over our hero’s head and crashes someplace behind the audience, and the surround system picks it up quite realistically. I’m sure the movie would be great in a conventional theater, but see it in IMAX if you can.
• Laura joked while the end credits were rolling, "I’m not sure there was enough action in that movie." Yeah, there was an insane amount of action, and it was incredibly pulse-pounding and frenetic.

Go see it. Highly recommended.

Can you see beyond the label? Can I?

Some people flaunt their personal label, be it a political party or whatever. It becomes a part of our identity. To what extent does it reflect the truth of our interior being, or do we change to resemble our label?

I am not an expert on labeling or marketing, but I know what I like (as the old saying goes). In a bottle of wine, the juice is only part of the experience. What does the bottle’s label say about its contents, those who harvested the grapes or made the wine?

Sometimes wine labels are designed to catch the eye of the harried shopper, looking for a quick bottle for tonight’s supper. The result of this is often, to my sense, a total disaster.

The Bad

I don’t know what the guys at Carlton Cellars were thinking about with their labeling. Each of their terrific wines has a different photo of an Oregon Coast location. Because each is different, there is no unified look to help you identify their wines. Even worse, the photos are really ugly. This label would make me embarrassed to select this wine for my friends.

Another winery with the "no two labels alike" problem is Twelve Wines. These labels are at least an improvement over Carlton Cellars – at least they are not ugly. And they have chosen photos which are not just pretty pictures but which are meaningful to the name "Twelve". Pretty fun, but still not very effective in communicating anything about the wine or the place the grapes were grown.

The Good

Brian at Belle Pente has a consistent label design for his wines, which includes a representation of his hillside vineyard property. Here I get more of a sense of the place where the wine comes from and what might make it special, even if the color palate seems a little bit over the top. Now if only Brian would make his web site a bit more polished…

WillKenzie and some of the other good labels in the region is consistent and understated, while showing some creativity. The label is two pieces of paper, and the rough slanted line reflects the hills that grow the grapes. I would say if someone wants to attract attention but not be repulsively ugly, you should keep things consistent, understated and try to deliver a message consistent with what you put into the bottle.

The Best

But I think the best labels are simple, plain white with lettering on the front.

Of course, it really helps that Shea has the most famous vineyard in the valley. Their grapes go into some of the finest single-vineyard pinots from other wineries and is highly prized. Their own wine label is in my opinion the best in the region. It is simple, elegant, shows you the key information. This may just be hooch cooked up by guys in overalls in the Oregon countryside, but their label says the contents are classic and timeless.

Isn’t it funny how things change? I remember when I was a little kid, if I used the word "guts," as in "She has a lot of guts," I would be told not to curse.

Well, "guts" is a definite cuss word for me right now.

I basically fired my running coach in August, because changes in his life situation made him much less accessible. So after talking to friends for months and evaluating the options, I decided on my new running coach. She is a champion marathon runner herself and has a great reputation as a responsive and accessible coach.

My goal with the new coach is to improve on my PR of 3:29 for the marathon, set two years ago in December, 2009. I hate to state my goal so publically, but it’s to finish a marathon in under 3:20. This will require a ton of work. A ton of work! It was hard to achieve the sub-3:30 time, and as time marches on, age causes the amount of work to increase that much more to meet higher goals. Just to stay even takes a ton of work, much less improve.

This week is the first one with the new coach, and I decided to restart my daily series of core exercises and stretches.

Yeah, those guts are complaining a little bit now. Good. A strong core is essential for a runner to have an erect posture while running, and a strong core will enable me to keep a good posture even after three hours of running. And an erect posture is important for efficient air flow into and out of the lungs and efficient locomotion.

All good, and it all starts on the carpet, with planks, hip extensions, ball crunches. Oy.

I don’t know why I never thought of this before.

I work at a nice office building in a suburb which is about 17 or 18 miles west of downtown Portland, Oregon. My favorite running locations are in downtown and usually if I am meeting someone for a run it will be downtown.

For a long time, I was doing all of my track work on Tuesday evenings on a track in downtown.

The problem is: how do I change from my normal work clothes to running clothes? The track downtown has some cruddy bathrooms, and I have done my changes there before. Not a great option. But I don’t really want to do the complete change in the bathroom at work.

Finally – I have a solution. I bring in my running shorts to work with me, and swap between my underwear to running shorts in the bathroom before I jet out the door.

With the more modest part of the operation done, I can easily change in the car after I have parked it downtown without resorting to a bathroom.

It works perfectly. Note that I try to avoid changing while I am driving – I have done this once or twice when I was running late, and that’s a big mistake.