DC Spinster

DC has wonderful running venues that often present wonderful sights.

There are open vistas, water, monuments and great cloud cover sometimes.

It's a runner-friendly place, where the cars mostly look out for you and some of the bicyclists actually call out when they're passing you.

The weather hardly ever prevents you from running, although this past winter was a challenge.

The weather has been atrociously cold and I hadn't run in a week and a half.  I woke up yesterday and it was mid-40s, the first time above freezing in a week.

But no one at work had brought their running clothes.  (How hard is it to keep leggings, worn shoes, a top, a wind jax, cotton gloves, a skull cap and a towel in a file cabinet?)  So for the first time in a long time I ran alone at noon.

I resisted all the reasons why I shouldn't run and should just go to lunch instead and headed out towards the Capitol.  The next bad weather was closing in fast, with the wind picking up and the temperature dropping eight degrees in the time I was out so I was glad I was out taking advantage of my best opportunity to run in two weeks.  By midmorning today it's supposed to be the coldest it's been here in 20 years.

I went up the hill and around the backside of the Capitol, down the new path to the visitor's center, up the stairs to the plaza behind it, back down the stairs and up the pathway to the street again, down Capital Hill, through the pocket park to the Mall, around the carousel, over Labor Hill, up Capitol Hill again and back to my workplace by Union Station, four miles, two pounds lost during the run and 48 dropped in three years.  Now it's time to hunker down again until the weekend when conditions might be more accommodating to running again.

I went on a very slow 5-mile  "furlough run" yesterday on the Mall to see all the things that are closed. Nobody bothers you as you run on the pathways, although signs do announce the area is closed and direct you to not enter. 

There are barriers in front of Lincoln so you can't go inside that, the same with Korea, and Washington is closed anyway due to the 2011 earthquake. Nobody prevents you from filing by Vietnam or seeing its statue, or entering WW2 by its side entryway. 

None of the Museums are open, of course, and the Carousel is silent but I think it would be closed for the season anyway.  The water fountains that aren't broken still work.   My favorite pocket park is passable and apparently still maintained.  
(Running through the Pocket Park last spring with friends from work.)

After drinking my morning coffee and a full bottle of water I felt the urge so I entered the Capitol's Visitor Center (the Main Hall is closed), saying I was going to the House Gallery, and used its restroom. In answer to my expressed hope that two Capitol Police officers I passed were getting paid one said, "No sir" and her companion added, "We will though, eventually." (I translated this to, "We're working for free for now going on half a month.")

In the Capitol, I got on an elevator with two young women who pushed the button and we started ascending.  I said, "We found something in Washington that works!" which they thought was so funny that they said they were going to tweet it. 

A section of Capital Hill was closed as they fixed the raising street barrier which got destroyed in last week's tragic car chase.  I told the standing-by Capitol Policeman that I thought the force did a great job in that incident from what I have seen in various accounts (and from what I know and feel as being a former police officer) and he seemed to appreciate that, or at least he acknowledged my statement.

Everyone was unfailingly polite and the tourists I talked with were cheerful enough, and I also ran into some running friends of mine from my old running club who I hadn't seen in a long time (one looked at me wonderingly when I hailed her until I called out my name at which point she said, "Peter!  The beard, I didn't recognize you.") .  That would be my furlough beard, starting to come in thickly now in the 13th day of being out of work with no paycheck coming in to enable me to pay my bills.

It was a lazy, stop-filled fun run and I didn't even notice that it was lightly raining much of the time.  There are worse places to be than dysfunctional Washington D.C.

After seeing the minor league baseball game in Charleston on the first day of my summer vacation in August, I went over to the State Capitol to wander around some before I retired to a motel for the night in preparation for rafting the next two days in the New River National Gorge.  The capital grounds had lots of memorial statues which I always enjoy, in addition to having the Governor's Mansion right next door overlooking the river which flows by just across the local highway.

(West Virginia pays homage to the working men and women who made the state great.)

A long time ago I was a Colorado State Trooper assigned to the Governor's Executive Security Detail in Denver for a couple of years, stationed at the Governor's Mansion there, which was about five blocks from the State Capitol which we also patrolled.  One of my most notable moments on that detail was when then-Vice President George H. W. Bush (Bush the First, father to the Decider) came to speak at the Capitol and he went right by me on his way to the assembly chamber.

(West Virginia honoring the modern American soldier.)

(Abe overlooking the river as seen from the Capitol steps.)


(The instrument of the country's salvation: A Union soldier.)


(A harbinger of greatness to come: A Revolutionary War volunteer.)

I started my driving vacation (in August) by taking the scenic route to the West Virginia capital through the Shenandoah Valley and then through hilly terrain in the Mountain State.  The final stretch to Charleston is along a river so it is naturally beautiful.

I was going to attend a minor league game in Charleston but I got a late start and despaired of making the game in time.  However when I got within 15 miles of the state capital I found the game on a local radio channel and it was in the fifth inning.  I hoped there were plenty of hits and pitching changes as I drove closer.

I drove by the Capitol eventually and took the next exit for the ballpark.  With about half a mile to go to the stadium, according to my GPS device, I parked for free and walked the rest of the way.



As I walked up to the park, I saw that all the ticket booths were closed.  A cop and a stadium attendant were lounging by the wide-open gate and I walked in, for free, while they gave me nary a glance.  (I would have gladly purchased a ticket if I had been able to.)



It was the seventh inning but that still gave me ample time to roam around the stadium of the West Virginia Power, a class A minor league team.  The vantage points were interesting, you could see the gold-domed State Capitol from the third base side seats and up the nearby steep hillside, above the noisy traffic going by on the Interstate halfway up, was a cleared patch of hilltop with a cemetery up there with several large monuments.



I had a hot dog and a beer, and the home team won in the bottom of the ninth when the opposing shortstop fielded an ordinary grounder near the second base bag with the bases loaded and two outs and as he went to toss the ball to the second baseman for an easy force-out to end the inning of the tie game, he just dropped the ball.  He stood there thunderstruck as the winning run scored.



The losing visitors trudged off the field glumly while the home teamers all gladhanded and high-rived.  Apparently it was the fourth straight loss for the visitors because a stadium attendant got atop the visiting team dugout with a broom and slowly swept off the dirt up there (a sweep, get it?).



Minor league baseball, it's fabulous.  The stadiums are so homey and hospitable too, with some hokum mixed in.  In this stadium they had the visitor's bullpen lined up on folding chairs set out in the blazing summer sun in the dirt along the stadium wall down the third base line while the home bullpen was in a shaded spacious area under the stands on the first base side.

A Memorial Day twenty-minute 3K race time while in recovery mode after surgery is fine, but I want to get back to running! I laid off any further running til the following Monday when I ran 2 1/2 miles around the Capitol at noon with a co-worker L, at a sedentary 12-minute pace. Still in recovery mode, you know?

Tuesday we went 3 miles around Capitol Hill at a 10-minute pace with a brief pause to listen to comments Senator Barbara Boxer made to a professional nursing association assembled in a nearby park, about keeping the government's hands off our Medicare as we know it (think Paul Ryan's impoverishing Vouchercare). Only in DC can a casual noontime jog be so elucidating.

Oppressive heat enveloped DC on Wednesday when 99 degree heat settled in accompanied by humidity. I just had to run in such a challenging environment so at noon I ran 2 1/2 miles around the Capitol at a 9-minute pace before I left work early to keep a 2-week post-op appointment with the operating surgeon. That run felt great!

The doc examined the incision on my stomach, said it was healing nicely and gave me the okay to start running again in another week. I celebrated my imminent return to running by running 5K in 102 degree heat with L the next day and 3.2 miles in 99 degree humidity at lunchtime today. I gotta be honest though, I had to walk in the last mile each day because, apparently, I'm not enough used to such brutal running conditions yet. But I hope I'll get there real soon.

National Marathon Review. The first half was nice and smooth...
It’s been three days since I ran the National Marathon. My quads are still on fire, and the toenail on the long toe of my right foot is sore and slowly going from mottled purple to black. Motorists are still outraged over Saturday’s road closures.

My splits.
MP Split Time Notes
1. 8:06 (8:06) Goal–eight minute miles
2. 7:45 (15:51) Downhill
3. 7:57 (23:49) Steady
4. 9:00 (32:49) Missed the marker
5. 7:22 (40:11) Short mile
6. 9:01 (49:12) Missed the marker
7. 7:22 (56:35) Short mile
8. 8:14 (1:04:50) Steady
9. 8:33 (1:13:23) Uphill
10. 8:04 (1:21:28) Competition
11. 8:38 (1:30:06) Bucolic running
12. 8:28 (1:38:30) Bucolic running
13. 8:40 (1:47:10) Very Scenic-The new ballpark
14. 8:35 (1:55:46)
15. 8:42 (2:04:28)
16. 8:51 (2:13:20)
17. 8:53 (2:22:14)
18. 9:49 (2:32:03)
19. 9:31 (2:41:35)
20. 11:04 (2:52:39)
21. 12:12 (3:04:51) Missed the marker.
22. 7:15 (3:12:07) Short mile.
23. 8:46 (3:20:54)
24. 9:15 (3:30:09)
25. 9:15 (3:39:25)
26. 9:12 (3:48:37)
.21. 1:59 (9:04 pace for this bit. 1:36 would require a 7:19 pace.)
3:50:36

The night before. While watching some NCAA tournament basketball I laid out my gear for the marathon. In my waist pouch I put my cell, a throwaway camera, some commemorative quarters and two twenties, my work ID (in case I wanted to use the bathroom when we ran by my building at MP 3), a metro fare card (you never know), two Advils and three GUs (non-caffeine flavor). Because I was worried the pouch was becoming too heavy (it starts bouncing as you run), I didn’t put in my little tube of vaseline. Shortly after midnight I set the alarm for 5 am for the 7 am race start and fell asleep.

An early morning run. I arose by 5:10 am, taped on my nip-guards and dressed in black compression shorts, long baggy shorts with zipper pockets, Asic shoes, socks and a dark blue short sleeve technical shirt. Then I ran around my block in the dark to loosen up. It was warm enough, 46 degrees and getting warmer, but threatening to rain.

Breakfast in the car. I threw my breakfast and my gear bag into the car at 5:55 and drove off. I ate some cantaloupe, two cups of diced fruit in heavy syrup and a banana enroute to RFK, arriving in parking lot 7 by 6:30 am. It had rained during the entire drive.

At RFK. By 6:55 I was on the starting line near the front, wearing a throwaway sweatshirt for warmth. The rain had stopped for good. A friend who was running the half, M, saw me and came over. M. is cool and did a handstand at the Army Ten Miler's finish line after completing it last year. Given the severity of the ATM security regulations (I'll never sign up for that race again), it's a wonder she wasn't thrown into a cell at Guantanamo for violating one of their rules. When the gun went off I tossed my sweatshirt aside and we went out together. (M. training for the National Half on Constitution Avenue by the Mall during the long cold winter.)

The Race. The National course lay entirely within DC this year, unlike last year's course which branched out into Prince Georges County in Maryland. My goals for the race were threefold: break 3:45 (8:35), break 3:50 (8:46) , or break my PR of 3:52:34 (8:52), set in November at New York City.

Miles 1-13.
MP 1–8:06. The time included the seventeen seconds it took us to cross the start line. We ran down darkened East Capitol Street getting our pace established. I told M. I was going to do eight-minute miles as long as I could as I tried for my goal of a time of 3:45 (8:35). M. wanted to break 1:50 (8:24) so she said she’d hang with me as long as she could. She got ahead of me early and I started to feel like I would have to let her go, but then we got settled down into easy running and our ragged breathing normalized.

MP 2–7:45 (15:51). We encountered the first of several inspiring sights, the Capitol Dome straight ahead of us lit up in the dim early morning light. We veered left to Independence Avenue and started down Capitol Hill. I looked for my NYCM running buddy who said she was going to come out to cheer us on, but she got delayed in traffic and I never saw her.

MP 3–7:57 (23:49). We ran past the Capitol to Constitution Avenue and then passed by my work building. M. dropped back a little and soon I was running alone. (M. posted an excellent time of 1:51 for her first Half-Marathon.)

MP 4–9:00 (32:49). Running alongside the Mall, we passed the Washington Monument on our left, another inspiring sight, and the White House on our right. (Two of the historic sites we ran by, the Washington Monument and the Capitol.) We turned for a short distance up Virginia Avenue. I missed mile marker 4 somehow, so I just punched my Timex at 9:00 to keep the number of splits correct. This was flat running in the heart of our nation’s capital, supported by a few spectators clapping in the early morning.

MP 5–7:22 (40:11). This was a "short" mile because I missed the last mile marker. I was running a little over eights here, which is about where I wanted to be. We backtracked on Constitution alongside the Mall and I noticed the large marker signaling MP 16 behind me as I ran by. It was a sentinel telling us that we would be back running this stretch later. I had run this part of the course as a training run half a dozen times recently, getting ready for this race.

MP 6–9:01 (49:12). Three quarters of a mile after we ran by the Washington Monument a second time, we turned off Constitution and went across the Mall southbound on 7th Street towards the DC waterfront. There were a couple of dips and doodles in the road as we ran by L'Enfant Plaza, the first intimation of some hills to come. I missed the mile marker again so I pushed the button on my watch at 9 minutes.

MP 7–7:22 (56:35). Another "short" mile. My friend Bob ran by sans shirt and with a heart monitor strapped around his chest, chasing after his BQ. He had gotten caught up in the back of the pack at the start but he went on to achieve a PR. I waved hello as he departed with a quick glance backwards to see who was calling out to him. We hit the waterfront and turned up M Street. I knew from training runs that the first hill awaited us down M Street.

MP 8–8:14 (1:04:50). We were cruisin’ down M Street. There was lots of new construction down there. It was turning out to be a good day for running, overcast, warm but not hot, slightly humid but not muggy. My glasses had steamed up so I had zipped them away in my trench pocket. That's why I missed some mileposts. The water stops were ample and I was eschewing gatorade so far and grabbing water on the run. However, I was steadily slipping off my desired eight minute pace.

MP 9–8:33 (1:13:23). We ran up the hill on M Street, the equivalent of Capitol Hill which we had run down at MP 2, and then zig-zagged up a couple of side streets until we hit Pennsylvania Avenue. We turned right, away from the Capitol.

MP 10–8:04 (1:21:28). (Running eastbound over the Sousa Bridge and looking southbound down the Anacostia at the bridges we would shortly run under.) We ran down Pennsylvania Avenue and across the John Philip Sousa Bridge over the Anacostia River into SE. I was running near an acquaintance of mine whom I always try to beat. We never speak. He was doing the half. Across the bridge the halfers would split off and turn left (north) to go up Minnesota Avenue towards their finish at RFK, whereas the marathoners would turn right. I pushed a little harder and reached the juncture ahead of him. (My half marathon time would beat his.) Two years ago, before I ramped up my training, I would have killed for a 1:21:28 ten-miler. Now I noted how I was already 88 seconds off an eight-minute pace (1:20:00). Still, I "only" had 16.2 miles to go.

MP 11–8:38 (1:30:06). We were running down a waterfront parkway by the Anacostia which was totally deserted. My friend J. passed me. He is one of those runners who makes beaucoup noise as he runs, one of the grunters and sighers. I can always hear him coming up behind me from a long ways off. We called out greetings. I was running alongside a runner who was busy telling me how he was back from injuries and this marathon would be a test of his fitness. He would either DNF or have a great finishing time, he explained. Then he noted a porta-potty alongside the road and said it was the first one he’d seen for quite awhile. I told him I had seen plenty recently. He asked me where so I pointed them out to him. That tree, that tree and that tree over there, I said. He laughed at my witticism and thus reminded, I ran over and stopped momentarily behind a tree for my only pit stop of the race. Aside from runners, a couple of cops and some course marshals, not a soul was in that pretty riverside park in SE as we ran through it.

MP 12–8:23 (1:38:30). This was further pleasant running along the water on flatlands. I am doing a three-mile race in May along this roadway and I reflected upon strategies for that race as I ran.

MP 13–8:40 (1:47:10). We ran back over the Anacostia on the Frederick Douglass Bridge. Somehow we gained the bridge’s height on a curving access road without seeming to go up too much of a hill. My perceptions would alter dramatically very soon. I kept passing a walker who would thereupon run some more and pass me again. This was maddening, especially since I had to listen the whole time to the patter of another runner who had attached himself to her and was busy trying to pick her up. Approaching the District again on the bridge, I was treated to the majestic sight of the structure of the Nationals' new $611 million baseball stadium arising from the fog along the river. I had never been across this bridge before and I hadn't seen the new stadium construction yet. The steel skeleton was fully up and some bleachers had been already added. I saw the stadium was oriented away from the water and towards the Capitol. It was too misty too see the Capitol from where I was but I hoped there would be a nice view of it from the stadium when the ballpark was done in time for the 2008 season. Studying the new park as I traversed the bridge was preferable to looking down at my feet. The bridge had several long steel grate sections that, at speed, gave a clear view of the river several dozen feet below and seeing the dancing water underneath, sunlight glistening off the eddies and swirls, induced a strong sense of vertigo in me. Once off the bridge, I noted that the halfway mark was coming up. I quickened my pace because I wanted to see if I could run my half faster than the finish time of my friends who were doing the Half. We ran up South Capitol Street and came back to M Street where we turned left. We had just closed a five mile loop over the river and back.

MP 13.1–1:48 (8:15 first half race pace). I ruefully reflected that during my marathon relay race with Bex two weeks earlier, I had hit the Half mark four minutes earlier at 1:44, a significantly faster time. Of course, then I only had a mile and a half remaining. Here I had another 13.1 miles to go, which would take me two hours and two minutes to run for a 9:19 second half race pace. Leaving the race was Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde was about to enter.

Coming up.
Next: From the Halfway Mark to Milepost 20. The Hills Were Waiting...