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Motley marathoners at Balboa Park
Huffing and puffing
You begin to count the beads of sweat dripping down the neck of the guy in front of you.
Eileen Waters is plump and friendly and holds the AAU world’s record for the women's fifty-mile run. Her triumph occurred in Santa Monica in 1974 when she rounded the track for the 200th and final time in 6:55:28.8. The first twenty-five miles Eileen maintained a slow pace with short, low, energy-sparing strides. Gradually, the jogging motion became an integral part of her body rhythm and sticking one foot out in front of the other seemed more natural than standing still. She eased into a faster speed, which, plus rock music from a transistor radio, carried her to the end of the race.
Six years ago Eileen had never done any exercise of the “huff and puff’ variety. At that time, motivated by a desire to lose weight, she joined Donna Gookin’s newly-formed running class. The class, which is sponsored by the city’s recreation department, and Donna, who is a champion marathon runner, still meet late afternoons in Balboa Park.
Donna is a trim, compact woman, who is only chronologically approaching middle age. She appears to be one of those former high school cheerleaders who fortunately matured. Three times a week she directs a well-rounded program for a motley group of joggers of varying ability and experience. There’s an elderly man training for his first marathon, a middle-aged man taking some learning steps, a seven-year-old girl who just completed a marathon in less than four hours, and a young mother determined to recapture the stamina of her teen-age years. On the fringe is Nadia Garcia, a nineteen-year-old record holder of many and sundry races. Light and tense as a gazelle, she hovers on the edges, eager to extend into motion at any moment.
Each class begins with an elaborate warm-up period of stretching, prancing, pulling, twisting, and jumping to get the juices flowing and the muscles limber in preparation for the evening’s run. The air no longer feels cold and sweats are discarded. Mondays, it’s a long, relaxed jog around the park within the lighted areas. Wednesdays, the schedule calls for wind sprints and hill runs. Fridays, it’s the timed three-mile run, which determines a person’s level within the class. Workouts for the rest of the week are assigned according to five time divisions, which reflect speed and endurance. Some of the more competitive men lose sleep over this Friday trial. They line up at the start with nostrils positively flaring and expressions set. With a leap at the beginning, it’s six-minute miles all the way. The majority, however, are content to either compete against themselves or to just amble along. Many racers, panting up the final hill, fighting nausea, ask rhetorically week after week why they subject themselves to this agony.
The answer is that running is addictive, no matter what the initial motivation for buying that first pair of three-striped, composition-sole tennis shoes. People begin jogging for various reasons: to lose weight, firm flab, improve health, or feel younger. Eventually, however, you become dependent on a daily workout for a sense of physical and mental well-being. Similar to other addictions, you continually crave increased dosages — in this case of speed and distance. As Eileen explains: “Running becomes a part of you; you feel your whole body moving and this movement feels good. You get in touch with your feelings, emotions and body and really find yourself."
Theories about every aspect of running are rampant diet, training, shoes, etc. — and each has its avid proponents. Some advocate shorter, swifter workouts: for instance, two miles a day jit near top speed. But Eileen and others prefer long, slow, gentle jogs and believe that you can improve both speed and stamina by putting in a lot of miles every day. Ultimately, running is an individual endeavor. Each person must determine for him or herself what method of training is most effective. This means listening to your body and experimenting with diet and exercise.
San Diego has a considerable number of top-notch marathoners, who are all gearing up for the Mission Bay Marathon set for January 10. (A marathon is a twenty-six mile 385 yard race, which commemorates the feat of the Greek, who, in 490 B.C. ran this distance from Marathon to Athens, carrying the news of a Greek victory over the Persians.) Competitors have three objectives in the following order: 1) to finish, 2) to finish in under four hours, and 3) to be a winner.
In the months preceding a marathon, entrants begin packing in more than fifty-five miles per week. Many begin following a special regimen designed to provide extra energy during the marathon. One week before the event believers in this regimen go on a long run in order to deplete the system of glycogen and for the next three days consume only protein. The subsequent three days, they go on long, leisurely jogs that don’t strain the muscles and load up on carbohydrates. The theory is that this diet will cause the body to convert carbohydrates into energy more efficiently. In the past Eileen has tried this diet but this year intends to continue with her usual eating and exercise patterns. In general, she stays away from processed and refined foods and eats whole grains and fresh vegetables. She also takes a vitamin supplement to help replace those used up by exertion and perspiration.
The Marathon Clinic is San Diego’s answer to the loneliness of the long distance runner. Patterned after a similar program in Hawaii and founded by Dr. Kostrubala, it provides an opportunity for people to develop their distance-running skills against one of the most beautiful settings in the world. Scores of people, including entire families, forgo their Sunday sleep-in to gather by the shores of Mission Bay at 8:00 A.M. for jogs along the water side. It’s chilly at that hour and the early morning fog transforms the air and water into grey and mysterious substances. A few hardy fishermen sit hunched motionless over long poles.
After the warm-up, participants take off their wrappings and divide injto groups. Each group goes a different distance: twenty miles, eight, or three for beginners. Routes generally trace the perimeters of the bay: speeds vary from six to ten miles per hour. Choice of a particular distance depends on endurance, energy, ambition, and what you ate the evening before. Including stops for gookinaide secreted in containers in bushes along the way. a leisurely twenty-mile jaunt takes about four hours. (Gookinaide is a special drink invented by local marathoner. Bill Gookin, and especially formulated for strenuous activities. It contains glucose, potassium, electrolytes, and additional ingredients to replace those burned up by exercise.)
The best strategy to follow during the clinic is to latch on to a person or persons who jog at a similar level. Then, in order to get your mind off of what your fegs are doing, you pass the time by gossiping, telling jokes, or swapping running tips. This tactic will be effective for at least half the distance. After that it’s easier to shut up and concentrate on the work at hand — keeping that metronome going. You begin to count the beads of sweat dripping down the neck of the guy in front of you. at the same time wondering why you torture yourself this way and promising to take a peek at that bestseller: “Thirty Minutes a Week to Keep Fit” or some such title. The last mile is the most torturous and consequently the most rewarding. Sir Hillary couldn’t be more proud upon scaling Everest than the runner who accomplishes more than he or she's previously done.
It’s all over for another week. You bend over to prevent upchucking (although anybody’d be foolish to eat before running) and then make for the cache of gookinaide stashed in the trunk of the car.
Here's something you might be interested in.
Motley marathoners at Balboa Park
Huffing and puffing
Motley marathoners at Balboa Park
Huffing and puffing
You begin to count the beads of sweat dripping down the neck of the guy in front of you.
Eileen Waters is plump and friendly and holds the AAU world’s record for the women's fifty-mile run. Her triumph occurred in Santa Monica in 1974 when she rounded the track for the 200th and final time in 6:55:28.8. The first twenty-five miles Eileen maintained a slow pace with short, low, energy-sparing strides. Gradually, the jogging motion became an integral part of her body rhythm and sticking one foot out in front of the other seemed more natural than standing still. She eased into a faster speed, which, plus rock music from a transistor radio, carried her to the end of the race.
Six years ago Eileen had never done any exercise of the “huff and puff’ variety. At that time, motivated by a desire to lose weight, she joined Donna Gookin’s newly-formed running class. The class, which is sponsored by the city’s recreation department, and Donna, who is a champion marathon runner, still meet late afternoons in Balboa Park.
Donna is a trim, compact woman, who is only chronologically approaching middle age. She appears to be one of those former high school cheerleaders who fortunately matured. Three times a week she directs a well-rounded program for a motley group of joggers of varying ability and experience. There’s an elderly man training for his first marathon, a middle-aged man taking some learning steps, a seven-year-old girl who just completed a marathon in less than four hours, and a young mother determined to recapture the stamina of her teen-age years. On the fringe is Nadia Garcia, a nineteen-year-old record holder of many and sundry races. Light and tense as a gazelle, she hovers on the edges, eager to extend into motion at any moment.
Each class begins with an elaborate warm-up period of stretching, prancing, pulling, twisting, and jumping to get the juices flowing and the muscles limber in preparation for the evening’s run. The air no longer feels cold and sweats are discarded. Mondays, it’s a long, relaxed jog around the park within the lighted areas. Wednesdays, the schedule calls for wind sprints and hill runs. Fridays, it’s the timed three-mile run, which determines a person’s level within the class. Workouts for the rest of the week are assigned according to five time divisions, which reflect speed and endurance. Some of the more competitive men lose sleep over this Friday trial. They line up at the start with nostrils positively flaring and expressions set. With a leap at the beginning, it’s six-minute miles all the way. The majority, however, are content to either compete against themselves or to just amble along. Many racers, panting up the final hill, fighting nausea, ask rhetorically week after week why they subject themselves to this agony.
The answer is that running is addictive, no matter what the initial motivation for buying that first pair of three-striped, composition-sole tennis shoes. People begin jogging for various reasons: to lose weight, firm flab, improve health, or feel younger. Eventually, however, you become dependent on a daily workout for a sense of physical and mental well-being. Similar to other addictions, you continually crave increased dosages — in this case of speed and distance. As Eileen explains: “Running becomes a part of you; you feel your whole body moving and this movement feels good. You get in touch with your feelings, emotions and body and really find yourself."
Theories about every aspect of running are rampant diet, training, shoes, etc. — and each has its avid proponents. Some advocate shorter, swifter workouts: for instance, two miles a day jit near top speed. But Eileen and others prefer long, slow, gentle jogs and believe that you can improve both speed and stamina by putting in a lot of miles every day. Ultimately, running is an individual endeavor. Each person must determine for him or herself what method of training is most effective. This means listening to your body and experimenting with diet and exercise.
San Diego has a considerable number of top-notch marathoners, who are all gearing up for the Mission Bay Marathon set for January 10. (A marathon is a twenty-six mile 385 yard race, which commemorates the feat of the Greek, who, in 490 B.C. ran this distance from Marathon to Athens, carrying the news of a Greek victory over the Persians.) Competitors have three objectives in the following order: 1) to finish, 2) to finish in under four hours, and 3) to be a winner.
In the months preceding a marathon, entrants begin packing in more than fifty-five miles per week. Many begin following a special regimen designed to provide extra energy during the marathon. One week before the event believers in this regimen go on a long run in order to deplete the system of glycogen and for the next three days consume only protein. The subsequent three days, they go on long, leisurely jogs that don’t strain the muscles and load up on carbohydrates. The theory is that this diet will cause the body to convert carbohydrates into energy more efficiently. In the past Eileen has tried this diet but this year intends to continue with her usual eating and exercise patterns. In general, she stays away from processed and refined foods and eats whole grains and fresh vegetables. She also takes a vitamin supplement to help replace those used up by exertion and perspiration.
The Marathon Clinic is San Diego’s answer to the loneliness of the long distance runner. Patterned after a similar program in Hawaii and founded by Dr. Kostrubala, it provides an opportunity for people to develop their distance-running skills against one of the most beautiful settings in the world. Scores of people, including entire families, forgo their Sunday sleep-in to gather by the shores of Mission Bay at 8:00 A.M. for jogs along the water side. It’s chilly at that hour and the early morning fog transforms the air and water into grey and mysterious substances. A few hardy fishermen sit hunched motionless over long poles.
After the warm-up, participants take off their wrappings and divide injto groups. Each group goes a different distance: twenty miles, eight, or three for beginners. Routes generally trace the perimeters of the bay: speeds vary from six to ten miles per hour. Choice of a particular distance depends on endurance, energy, ambition, and what you ate the evening before. Including stops for gookinaide secreted in containers in bushes along the way. a leisurely twenty-mile jaunt takes about four hours. (Gookinaide is a special drink invented by local marathoner. Bill Gookin, and especially formulated for strenuous activities. It contains glucose, potassium, electrolytes, and additional ingredients to replace those burned up by exercise.)
The best strategy to follow during the clinic is to latch on to a person or persons who jog at a similar level. Then, in order to get your mind off of what your fegs are doing, you pass the time by gossiping, telling jokes, or swapping running tips. This tactic will be effective for at least half the distance. After that it’s easier to shut up and concentrate on the work at hand — keeping that metronome going. You begin to count the beads of sweat dripping down the neck of the guy in front of you. at the same time wondering why you torture yourself this way and promising to take a peek at that bestseller: “Thirty Minutes a Week to Keep Fit” or some such title. The last mile is the most torturous and consequently the most rewarding. Sir Hillary couldn’t be more proud upon scaling Everest than the runner who accomplishes more than he or she's previously done.
It’s all over for another week. You bend over to prevent upchucking (although anybody’d be foolish to eat before running) and then make for the cache of gookinaide stashed in the trunk of the car.
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