How many times have you heard this one: “Running is so boring. I don't know how you keep running and aren't bored to death by it.” Let me just throw this out there: I never get bored with running. My guess is you don't either. So maybe I am preaching to the choir, but it's always seemed such a paradox that the people who criticize running as boring, never run.
It's official: The new smoking are the twin evils of soda and...sitting. Both are serious health hazards. Drinking soda has been demonized in the past few years as leading to obesity, diabetes and all sorts of other diseases. I don't drink soda, but like everybody who has a desk job, I sure sit around a lot which can lead to the same crap.It's official: The new smoking are the twin evils of soda and...sitting. Both are serious health hazards. Drinking soda has been demonized in the past few years as leading to obesity, diabetes and all sorts of other diseases. I don't drink soda, but like everybody who has a desk job, I sure sit around a lot which can lead to the same crap.
Since I began running back and forth to elementary school when nobody else did, I've always felt a little different. That feeling continued throughout high school when instead of sneaking cigarettes, I was out running and getting mocked for doing so. Even in college when everybody was drinking themselves under the table, I ran. And—of course--continue to do so.
How many times have you heard this one? Typically, it’s from some non-runner who offers this well-intentioned piece of advice: “If you keep up with all that running, it’s going to ruin your knees.” If I had a breakfast taco for every single time I’ve heard that, I could compete with Taco Deli.
There are times when I feel like my little corner of the running world is neatly divided into two distinct camps: Those who run with music and those who never do. Let me state right off that I love music (rock, country, bluegrass-roots) and listen to it all day while working. (Thank you Pandora and Spotify.) Just not when I run.
A couple of Saturdays ago, a bunch of us were sweating our way through yet another long run and, as marathoners do, the general topic of the morning was which marathons we were doing in the fall and winter and why we were running them. The reasons why who was running which were the usual: Course, logistics, race goodies, tradition, cost, proximity and 100 other rationalizations for choosing a particular marathon. As we cruised along, one of the newbies asked innocently enough: “Which marathon is the easiest?”
Far be it from me to interject politics into this, but the remaining statues of the four Confederates on the South Mall of UT don't belong there. Statues are symbols and all these statues do is symbolize our racist past which is offensive to so many Texans.
After years of study, it's my educated belief that runners are just about the most generous, selfless subspecies out there. We are known for our positive spirit and almost all of us do what we can to help our fellow runners and try to encourage newbies to join our ranks. That's just who we are.
On Sunday, Jeff Galloway—the Johnny Appleseed of marathoning—will celebrate his 70th birthday by running the Missoula Marathon. This will mark Jeff's 200th marathon, which is certainly remarkable in itself, but what's truly noteworthy about him is how he's planted the seeds for many thousands of runners all over the world who have gone on to finish marathon.
Ever wonder whether running can have important consequences as we age? Yeah, I don't wonder about it either. As an older runner, I know it helps to delay the aging process and preserves my mind and body better than just about anything else I can do.
One question every runner invariably asks is the most simple one of all: Why do I run? Especially as we look down the barrel of another long, hot, humid summer, the question of why exactly we do this day after day, month after month, year after year is certain to at least cross every runner’s mind at some point (often in the middle of a long run).
I'm one of those crazy guys who just loves to race. Always have. Although my favorite distance has changed over the years, the one I love the most these days is the half-marathon. I’m certainly not alone in my affinity for the half as it is still the fastest growing road race distance. Last year, 2,046,600 of us finished a half marathon. That's almost double what it was four years. There are many great things about the half, but one of the coolest is it happens to be the only road race distance completely dominated by women. More than 60 percent of all half-marathon finishers are women.
What’s the most important race in Austin? Is it the Austin Marathon? 3M? Cap 10? Or maybe it’s the Run for the Water 10-Miler? Just one man’s opinion, but the most important annual race in Austin is the Moonlight Margarita Run 5-K which just so happens to be tonight.
In 1987, on the final night of the World Champs of Track & Field in Rome, my boss at Runner's World, George Hirsch, hosted a celebratory dinner at this cool ristorante, right on the Tigris River. At that dinner was Frank Shorter, the '72 Olympic marathon gold medalist, a close friend of Hirsch's, who - I believe - was in town doing commentary for NBC. I don't remember the exact context of the discussion, but I do recall clear as a bell that Shorter told me and everyone there who cared to listen that every athlete in Rome was on some type of performance-enhancement drug or another.
Watching and reading about the natural disasters around the world that befall us, the tendency is to become numb to all of them. Except when the disaster hits so close to home. Other than getting drenched a few times and dodging a funnel cloud on Saturday, the Memorial Day deluge (and its aftermath) had few consequences for me. But for our dear friends and neighbors just to the south, the tragedy was very real and apparent.