Saturday's recovery run launches at PSOAS Massage/Bodywork at 333 3rd Street between Folsom/Harrison.
If you need to use the restroom, change, and/or store some personal items, head up to PSOAS in Suite 205.
Here's a link to the course map-
Saturday's Recovery Run Course Map.
Here is a brief description of the course:
We
will cross Folsom from 3rd Street onto the sidewalk and take a right.
We will run along Folsom all the way to the Embarcadero. We will cross
the street and take a left onto the Embarcadero.
Run along the Embarcadero past the Ferry Building. Look for the street sign for ‘GREEN’. This is a hair over 1.5 miles. Beginner runners turn around here and head back for 3 miles!
Continue running along the Embarcadero. Look for the Hillstone Restaurant on the LEFT side of the Embarcadero at Embarcadero/Bay. This is 2 miles. Intermediate runners turn around here and head back for 4 miles!
Continue running along the Embarcadero
until it turns into ‘Jefferson’. Run along Jefferson to the intersection
of Jefferson/Powell. Look for the CVS drugstore on the left. This is 2.5 miles. Advanced runners turn around here and head back for 5 miles!
Run through Fisherman’s Wharf right to the edge
of Aquatic Park. Once you reach the cul-de-sac at the edge of
Fisherman’s Wharf/Aquatic Park, you’ve logged 3 miles. Race level runners turn around and head back to PSOAS for 6 MILES!
Thursday, March 24, 2016
Thursday, March 17, 2016
Saturday Long Run (6-9 miles)-03/19/16
We'll get things rolling with an easy 1/4 mile warmup run to Julius Kahn Park.
We'll segue into some range of motion drills and then continue with our run towards the Marina/Embarcadero
Here's a link to the course map....
Saturday ARM Long Run Course Map
Here's a description of said course...
-Descend from Julius Kahn Park to MacArthur Ave.
-Turn RIGHT on MacArthur Ave and follow to Presidio Ave.
-Veer RIGHT on Presidio Ave towards Lincoln Ave.
-Turn LEFT on Lincoln. Run briefly along Lincoln and then turn RIGHT on Girard.
-Follow Girard to the Marina. Girard turns into Marina Boulevard.
-Continue running on Marina Blvd. Once you reach the Marina Green Monkey Bars, you will have logged 2 miles.
-Continue on Marina past Safeway and crest Ft. Mason Hill. Descend Fort Mason Hill and run through Aquatic Park.
-Run until the sidewalk terminates in a cul-de-sac/roundabout. This is 3 miles. Beginners will turn around here and head back to Julius Kahn for 6 MILES!
-Everyone else will continue running into Fisherman's Wharf.
-At the intersection of Jefferson/Powell (this is a stoplight controlled intersection..look for the CVS Pharmacy on the RIGHT), you will have logged 3.5 miles. Intermediate runners turn around here and head back to Julius Kahn for 7 MILES!
-Advanced/Race level runners will continue running on the Embarcadero towards the Ferry Building.
-At the intersection of Embarcadero/Bay (Hillstone Restaurant is on the RIGHT), you will have logged 4 MILES. Advanced runners will turn around here and head back to Julius Kahn for 8 MILES!
-Race level runners will continue running to the intersection of Embarcadero/Green. This is 4.5 MILES. Turn around and head back to Julius Kahn for 9 MILES!
Monday, March 14, 2016
Race Discounts for Team Gilead!
Check out the discounts below....
-The Jig & Jog 5K on Sun, 3/20 (Use the 'MMRUN' code for $5 off)
-The Presidio 10 on Sun, 4/17 (Use the 'FORSMAN10' code for 10% off)
-The Sasquatch Scramble 5K/10K/Half on Sun, 4/17 (Use the 'RUNCLUB' code for 20% off)
-The Marin County Half Marathon on Sun, 4/24 (Use the 'RUN' code for $5 off)
-The Jig & Jog 5K on Sun, 3/20 (Use the 'MMRUN' code for $5 off)
-The Presidio 10 on Sun, 4/17 (Use the 'FORSMAN10' code for 10% off)
-The Sasquatch Scramble 5K/10K/Half on Sun, 4/17 (Use the 'RUNCLUB' code for 20% off)
-The Marin County Half Marathon on Sun, 4/24 (Use the 'RUN' code for $5 off)
Tuesday, March 08, 2016
Ten Miles.
I learned that becoming a runner involves losing a bit of your sanity. It
involves subjecting your body to things that leave others stunned and slack jawed.
This was the response I encountered most frequently in the days leading up to
conquering my first ten miler.
My friends balked. My
parents were stunned. Was I ready for this?
I had no way of knowing. The idea of running ten miles was like climbing Mount Everest. Few tried it.
What happened to those who ran ten miles? Were they left shattered and destroyed? Did they transcend their physical limits and become a superhero?
All these questions rattled around noisily in my head. Over the cacophony of these questions, another faint voice could be heard. This faint voice provided answers.
You can do this. You are a runner. You are a contender, not a pretender.
I barely heard this voice it was so faint. The deafening questions barely allowed this voice to be heard. But, every once in awhile I would catch a word or two.
The day of reckoning was a few days away. It loomed on the horizon ominously. The date was circled on my training diary with the number '10' jotted on it.
I became a bit obsessed with the number. There was something about the number 10. I remembered what a big deal it was to turn ten. High school reunions always seemed to happen every ten years.
Ten years is commonly known as a decade. Ten yards is what you have to cover to get a first down. Ten miles is what you have to cover to become a real runner.
In search of inspiration, I picked up my first issue of Runner's World. Amidst the countless articles about nutrition, hydration, and shoes was something else. There were stories of runners who ran ten miles.
There were stories about runners who ran more than double this distance. They were called marathoners. They ran 26.2 miles.
Not only did they run 26.2 miles. They ran 26.2 miles really, REALLY fast. I couldn't even manage a single mile at the pace they were running for nearly THIRTY miles.
Ten miles was a mere warmup jog for these otherworldly creatures. These gazelles thought nothing of ten miles. The same ten miles that had me quaking in my boots was nothing for these people.
I inhaled the rest of the issue awestruck by the incredible feats these marathoners were performing. How did they get there? How does one possible get into the kind of shape to attempt something like this?
I wondered if these athletes had been as daunted by their first ten miler as I was. I imagined their talent was so transcendent that their very first run was ten miles. They simply emerged from the womb born to run.
I wasn't born to run. At least, I didn't think I was. Running had been an alternative, a second choice, a last resort. I chose it in lieu of doing nothing.
Independent of the articles about the elite marathoners, there were a smattering of articles about runners who were far more pedestrian. They didn't run ridiculously fast times. They didn't win races.
But, they ran far. Some of them ran ten miles. Some ran marathons. Few of them seemed like serious athletes.
I finished the issue and while I didn't have any easy answers for conquering ten miles, I knew that it had been done. Many had done it before. Some had done much more than ten miles.
There were runners out there both elite and far from elite who had done exactly what I was endeavoring to do and more. I didn't know exactly how they had done it, but they had gotten it done. A modicum of confidence crept in.
Our last practice prior to our ten miler arrived. It was a casual, light, easy day. We jogged a few slow miles, did some stretching, and went through a few drills.
During this practice, a man stood underneath a tree nearby watching us. Someone mentioned it was Tom Dowling. He was an Olympic development coach and our coach’s husband.
He watched us intently and periodically took a few notes. I wondered why someone who worked with world-class runners was spending his time watching some high school runners. He studied us as we went through our entire routine.
We wrapped things up and began to leave. Before I made my way to the parking lot, I heard someone call my name. It was Tom.
He jogged up to me and introduced himself shaking my hand. He told me who he was. Then he said something I would never forget.
'I think you will be a great marathoner some day.'
I was dumbfounded. I hadn't even run ten miles let alone a marathon. I couldn't fathom covering 26.2 miles, let alone being great at it.
What did he see? Did he have me confused with someone else? Was he simply delusional?
Maybe he had completely succumbed to the insanity that one had to embrace to become a runner. This made sense. If you run long enough and far enough, you simply lose your mind completely.
A pregnant pause ensued as I stared at Tom contemplating all of this. I didn't know what to say. I couldn't believe what he said. So I said the only thing I could think of to say.
'Thanks.'
I shook his hand and walked away. Did he really think I could be one of these athletes I had read about in Runner's World? Could I become this kind of runner?
My encounter with Tom kept me awake that night. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. I wasn't sure I even wanted to be a runner.
But, the idea of being one of the fastest runners on the planet intrigued. It did more than intrigue. It seduced. It beckoned.
I had no way of knowing. The idea of running ten miles was like climbing Mount Everest. Few tried it.
What happened to those who ran ten miles? Were they left shattered and destroyed? Did they transcend their physical limits and become a superhero?
All these questions rattled around noisily in my head. Over the cacophony of these questions, another faint voice could be heard. This faint voice provided answers.
You can do this. You are a runner. You are a contender, not a pretender.
I barely heard this voice it was so faint. The deafening questions barely allowed this voice to be heard. But, every once in awhile I would catch a word or two.
The day of reckoning was a few days away. It loomed on the horizon ominously. The date was circled on my training diary with the number '10' jotted on it.
I became a bit obsessed with the number. There was something about the number 10. I remembered what a big deal it was to turn ten. High school reunions always seemed to happen every ten years.
Ten years is commonly known as a decade. Ten yards is what you have to cover to get a first down. Ten miles is what you have to cover to become a real runner.
In search of inspiration, I picked up my first issue of Runner's World. Amidst the countless articles about nutrition, hydration, and shoes was something else. There were stories of runners who ran ten miles.
There were stories about runners who ran more than double this distance. They were called marathoners. They ran 26.2 miles.
Not only did they run 26.2 miles. They ran 26.2 miles really, REALLY fast. I couldn't even manage a single mile at the pace they were running for nearly THIRTY miles.
Ten miles was a mere warmup jog for these otherworldly creatures. These gazelles thought nothing of ten miles. The same ten miles that had me quaking in my boots was nothing for these people.
I inhaled the rest of the issue awestruck by the incredible feats these marathoners were performing. How did they get there? How does one possible get into the kind of shape to attempt something like this?
I wondered if these athletes had been as daunted by their first ten miler as I was. I imagined their talent was so transcendent that their very first run was ten miles. They simply emerged from the womb born to run.
I wasn't born to run. At least, I didn't think I was. Running had been an alternative, a second choice, a last resort. I chose it in lieu of doing nothing.
Independent of the articles about the elite marathoners, there were a smattering of articles about runners who were far more pedestrian. They didn't run ridiculously fast times. They didn't win races.
But, they ran far. Some of them ran ten miles. Some ran marathons. Few of them seemed like serious athletes.
I finished the issue and while I didn't have any easy answers for conquering ten miles, I knew that it had been done. Many had done it before. Some had done much more than ten miles.
There were runners out there both elite and far from elite who had done exactly what I was endeavoring to do and more. I didn't know exactly how they had done it, but they had gotten it done. A modicum of confidence crept in.
Our last practice prior to our ten miler arrived. It was a casual, light, easy day. We jogged a few slow miles, did some stretching, and went through a few drills.
During this practice, a man stood underneath a tree nearby watching us. Someone mentioned it was Tom Dowling. He was an Olympic development coach and our coach’s husband.
He watched us intently and periodically took a few notes. I wondered why someone who worked with world-class runners was spending his time watching some high school runners. He studied us as we went through our entire routine.
We wrapped things up and began to leave. Before I made my way to the parking lot, I heard someone call my name. It was Tom.
He jogged up to me and introduced himself shaking my hand. He told me who he was. Then he said something I would never forget.
'I think you will be a great marathoner some day.'
I was dumbfounded. I hadn't even run ten miles let alone a marathon. I couldn't fathom covering 26.2 miles, let alone being great at it.
What did he see? Did he have me confused with someone else? Was he simply delusional?
Maybe he had completely succumbed to the insanity that one had to embrace to become a runner. This made sense. If you run long enough and far enough, you simply lose your mind completely.
A pregnant pause ensued as I stared at Tom contemplating all of this. I didn't know what to say. I couldn't believe what he said. So I said the only thing I could think of to say.
'Thanks.'
I shook his hand and walked away. Did he really think I could be one of these athletes I had read about in Runner's World? Could I become this kind of runner?
My encounter with Tom kept me awake that night. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. I wasn't sure I even wanted to be a runner.
But, the idea of being one of the fastest runners on the planet intrigued. It did more than intrigue. It seduced. It beckoned.
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