Gafoo's Blog

This is part 2 of this post. Once again, this is a very long post but I think it’s a fairly good read. It chronicles the experience of running the longest of my training runs thus far. According to the book I use to train this is the longest run I will have to do before the LA Marathon, though I believe I will do longer as my goal is not only to finish but to finish in under 4 hours. Anyway, thanks for reading…

Left foot inhale, right foot striking the ground harder, left foot exhale, right foot striking the ground harder. Dropping my fists and shaking them at my sides, rolling my shoulders. I won’t lie and say that this is easy or that I am not tired. As I run away from the Sepulveda station and past the 405 where the bike path separates from the Orange line, I can feel fatigue starting to rear its ugly head. The energy gained from the Gatorade break I took has officially worn off and I am running on determination. My pace stays roughly the same but I am definitely putting in more effort. I try to remember the late nights spent on the treadmill. I actually miss it at this point. It is a guaranteed pace. I am either running my 7.5mph or I am not. Out here I am at the mercy of the terrain. I can still see the Orange line busway and I’m appreciative of the separated pathway – here there are trees covering the path. I am finally getting relief from the sun.
I notice the amount of sweat dripping from my head and arms as I approach the Woodley station. I wipe the sweat from my forehead and I can feel salt. I need to take another Gatorade break soon. There is an abundance of bikers around and a few runners. The bikers are riding together in groups of 2 or 3 and sometimes whole families all riding together however, the runners are always solitary. Everyone of them wearing light clothing, caps or visors, and headphones. As I pass them I give them a friendly head nod and receive one as well. Running is, for us on the path today, a solitary sport: It’s us against the pavement, against our minds, fighting our mental fatigue as much as our physical fatigue.
I am now approaching the Balboa station. It is here that the pathway temporarily disappears as the Orange line busway cuts through the Sepulveda basin. I cross the street and continue on Victory blvd. This is better for me at this point since I’ve haven’t seen a 7-11 for a while and I am bound to run into one on this busy thoroughfare. I really need a drink.
I am luckily able to stay relatively cool since I am running on the south side of Victory blvd. All the taller buildings, houses, and trees are shading my way. At the end of every block are endless miles of tract housing. For the first time in a while I long for a strip mall. I search desperately for a liquor store of any type so that I can buy a Gatorade or even just a simple bottle of water. It seems with every breath my thirst grows larger.
Passing White Oak blvd was the height of it…left foot inhale, right foot pounding, left foot exhale, right foot pounding, shaking out my arms and hands every few seconds, rolling my shoulders, almost exclusively looking down a the pavement in front of me. My calves are burning and for the first time on my training runs I am aware of my feet. They are heavy feeling and I notice that my toes are pointing down with every stride. My ankles feel like rusty hinges. My side is hurting and I am breathing deeper but I continue my breathing rhythm…left foot inhale, right foot pounding the pavement, left foot exhale, right foot pounding the pavement. Even though I am expending so much energy I don’t feel like I am getting anywhere. My pace feels as slow as a fast walk.
Finally in my salt and sweat soaked view of the horizon I spot my oasis: 7-11. I just have to cross the bridge over the LA River and it’s on the other side of Reseda Park. Actually just seeing the sign at the park gives me a tremendous energy boost: this is my longest run ever. I have never imagined in my life I would be able to run all the way to Reseda. Yet in the back of my mind I know that I still have 4 more miles to run. It seems like such a small number but after the grueling 14 miles proceeding, it is anything but small.