running (42)

Shoulders and Knees, Oh Please

It’s been almost 4 months since my shoulder surgery, and a few days ago, I realized the tendon was finally reconnected to the bone and strengthening. Yahoo! Yesterday I was talking to Elmer Collett, former 49er guard and neighbor, about how when you’ve got an injury, it seems like it’ll never heal and then, one day, voila! You’re on the plus side of the situation. He knew exactly what I meant.

I had a bit of a setback, let it rest, then started doing rehab exercises, and in the last few days have started using my Vasa Trainer, a pulley type device for swimmers and surfers, which approximates paddling, and it felt OK. I’m gonna be able to surf again, not just sit on the beach or cliff and wistfully watch the action.

It was a dramatic change, in both function and mood.

The recoverability of the human body is awesome. Dr. Henry Bieler, in his great book “Food Is Your Best Medicine,” has a chapter titled “The Magnificent Human Body.” And so it is.

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Running, Music, Driving Along the Dark Coast

My friend Roger and I went on a 1-1/2 hour run—well, swift walk—in Frank’s Valley last night. Bitterly cold on the coast, but as we got deeper into the valley, and got circulation going, it got warmer. We’re about the same age, both recovering from shoulder surgery, and both San Francisco natives, so we have a lot to talk about. Last night we reminisced about the theaters on Market Street in the ’40s. The Fox (a movie palace), the Orpheum, the Warfield, the Golden Gate, the United Artists, the Esquire, and in an alley behind the Esquire, the Tivoli. Then on to the neighborhood theaters, like the Empire, The Parkside, the El Rey…

  This is a photo shot with my iPhone on the way home, driving along the coast, the red lights being an approaching car. I discovered that if I touched my brakes, I saw the road reflectors light up red in my rear view mirror. So I’d touch the brake pedal every once in a while, see the string of red lights in the mirror, then focus back on the road in front. It was like a light show, with this music on Sirius Radio: Meet Me in the Morning by Bob Dylan, Rambling Man by Waylon, then Bring Back Joe by Scotty McCreery. Fahhr out!

Great pleasures can be so simple.

Now listening to Frampton Comes Alive, a great live recording made in San Francisco (at Winterland, 1975) in front of 7000 fans, when the musicians forgot they were being recorded. Frampton said they were all amazed when they heard the recording afterwards.

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Emergency Shelters

Relevant to my post in getting lost on a stormy night:

Sent: Fri 23/11/12

Subject: Fwd: to Lloyd (emergency shelters)

Hi Lloyd,
I love your blog and read all your posts!!

Here is a good article about emergency shelters.
Read at the bottom about using an orange or blue plastic bag.
You might want to carry one on your waist when on your adventures.

Jerry Young

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Lost in the Eye of a Storm Last Night

I like running in the rain. Not at first, but after I get going and warm up, it’s exhilarating. Plus the smell of the air and the negative ions.

   So I set out last night around 6PM, heading south along the coastal cliffs from Muir Beach. I had on my one layer of Maxit tights and a rain parka tied around my waist. The storm was just starting.

    By the time I got up to my lookout spot (a point of land projecting out into the ocean that feels very much like the bow of a ship), the wind in front of the storm was blowing at maybe 30-40 mph, and I put on the parka and faced into it, taking in the wind energy and the sweet smell of fresh storm air, leaning into the storm and it holding me up. The lights of San Francisco across the water.

   As I headed up on a fire road inland, the rain started. It got foggy and pretty soon it was like being in a tunnel, darkness all around and a six-foot circle of misty light in front of me. These small owls (actually, I’ve been told they’re not owls, but related to whippoorwills) fluttered up from the sides of the road as I ascended; I think they wait for mice to cross the road.

   It was getting darker and rainier. I got to the top and started back down. I could hardly see. I was sending good thoughts to my Black Diamond headlamp, because I hadn’t brought any backup light, and if I lost my light in this gloom, I’d be out there all night.

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Running in A Cocoon of Fog

Last night I went for a run along the coast. It was misty in the lowlands, but as I got up to maybe 500 ft. elevation, there was a thick fog. Pretty soon I could only see 10′ in front of me on the fire trail road. There was a chorus of fog horns, all different notes. It was like moving through the clouds, like a fuzzy-edged cocoon of light from my headlamp. An hour later, back down to sea level and the pub, a pint of Anchor Steam porter, warmth and good fellowship on a misty night.

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Run/Swim/Fluttering Hawk/Dead Deer

Last night drove my truck up in the hills, went for a run. On the way, a red shouldered hawk was fluttering in the wind, wings outspread, just floating and scanning. It was foggy, bit of a breeze, I went swimming in a pond. No one for miles. On the way back there was a very large and very dead buck, with three turkey buzzards feasting, in a field. I ran in my Sanuk sandals, a very good option for barefoot runners. You can feel the ground with your toes. On the way home on the radio, Jon Cleary was doing Everything I do Gonh Be Funky.

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