Category Archives: Running On Emotion

Think about this stuff on your next run

Cold Weather Running: Learn to love WINTER with THE CINQUINO PROGRESSION

Four completely unrelated friends of mine told me they took up running for the first time, or for the first time in a long time this year. With the prospects of no gyms, no vacations, no offices, and no haircuts, running was what the pandemic offered: grow out our Steve Prefontaine and Flo Jo hairdos and find that road to nowhere.

As a certified Road Runners Club of America running coach (certifiable know-it-all), I felt compelled to pepper these unsuspecting friends with tips— even before they asked.

I was out for a walk with one of them recently and she asked me what to do now— specifically how to dress as the weather turns chilly here in the Northeast. She had no idea the pandora’s box of advice she had just opened. This time, since it was solicited, I was free to inundate her with my full and complete, never before published theory. After about 30 minutes, she jokingly asked for a chart to remember it all.

My friends, there are no jokes when it comes to dressing for the cold. So here, revealed for the first time anywhere in writing, is the definitive guide to dressing for (and learning to love) the fall and winter weather, aka The Cinquino Progression.

Origins of The Cinquino Progression

I am a lifelong runner who came of age in the lake effect snows of Lake Erie and near the winds and waves of Lake Ontario— and have spent every winter of my life in cold weather. As such, I have developed and refined this strategic sequence of increasingly warmer clothing adjustments meticulously, incorporating new fabrics and discoveries over the years.

Running Boom Trivia Question: What was the first great invention of the modern era of cool weather clothing, as recognized by inclusion in the original 1970s version of the Cinquino Progression?

If you are thinking “hat” you are not exactly wrong, but you are also not correct. People knew to put on a hat long before Frank Shorter won the 1972 Olympic Marathon.

Hint: This first true cold weather running innovation was invented for athletics by the Nelson Knitting Company of Rockford, Illinois in 1967, when it was used exclusively for another purpose.

Answer: Tube socks. Specifically, tube socks worn to keep the wind off your arms and your hands warm (but not too warm). Readily available and easily removed as you warmed up, tube socks on the arms were the Eureka moment of this runner’s cold weather life. I can only thank God that I survived their use, since they were made of 100% cotton. More on that later.

Pay Off #1: Run Longer, More Comfortably

Left to Right: You BEFORE the Cinquino Progression, You AFTER the Cinquino Progression

The goal of The Cinquino Progression is to keep you comfortable and keep you running right up until the bitter end known as The 3-Layer Maximum. (This is the cold weather threshold when you stay inside and watch Margaux Hemingway’s Personal Best again.)

The guiding principle of the Cinquino Progression is to prepare the runner way for winter by being be a little cold in the fall. The idea is that, by easing into the cool weather with minutely gradated additions to your winter clothing, your body will acclimate to the cooler temps and give you some natural tolerance and comfort when it becomes even colder. This is apparently the way chickens are cared for also— I’ve heard that if you give them too much warmth in their coop as the winter comes on, they are vulnerable to freezing if something happens to the heat supply during a cold snap. But when you let them acclimate, they can survive that same weather without difficulty. So think of The Cinquino Progression as the way you, too, can grow feathers to inoculate you against the colder temps that are on the way.

This orderly progression can also deliver a very specific payoff— your best run of the year. More on that later, too.

Let us start with the inviolable rule that could save your life.


Yes, for a moment forget about Covid-19, heart disease, smoking, medical errors, rabid dogs, lawn darts, a thousand cuts. America’s greatest killer may be cotton. I don’t need facts to back up this claim, because I choose to believe that it is true. Follow along. Cotton holds moisture, moisture traps cold, cold traps you. Then you die, frozen and alone like a Jack London Marathon. Stick with wicking fabrics in every season, but especially in the winter.

The other safety rule is less controversial: you may find yourself running in dawn or twilight hours as the days shorten, so wear a reflective strip or vest, headlamp, or strobe. Be seen, be safe. (ie. Cars kill, too.)

There is no specific timeline for applying The Cinquino Progression. Your personal cold tolerance will dictate what is the acceptable chill at each stage, as the days shrink toward winter.

The critical thing is that you go through each phase in sequence as temps drop. Of course, if winter hits all at once and the temps drop 30 degrees in one day, you may need to skip a stage or two for that day. But treat that like an emergency. When more moderate temps return, go back and pick up the progression where you left off. Same thing if the weather turns unseasonably warm, peel back as many stages as possible before resuming.

The rule of thumb at every stage is the same: you should be a little cold when you start out. Kind of like arriving at a nude beach for the first time: if you feel comfortable right away, you have overdressed.

One last edict about the weather at this time of year: there is nothing you can do with freezing rain. I cannot help you. No one can help you. Just don’t. Put on hot water for tea and dig out that pair of shorts with the drawstring that got stuck inside over the summer. That will be more fun than running in freezing rain. For extra fun, do a google translate of curse words in exotic languages to use while you stick yourself with the safety pin during extraction. Start with Alajaina!

With these ground rules understood and sworn to upon your Farmer’s Almanac, we can proceed.

When there is only set of footprints in the snow, it either means you are being carried toward your best run of the year by the Cinquino Progression, or it’s below 10 degrees and I stayed inside that day.

The Cinquino Progression:
10 Stages To Comfort in the Cold

Start with a base of shorts and a short-sleeved technical t-shirt, then add clothing as you progress through each numbered stage. This clothing stepladder is cumulative unless noted.

Stage 1: The Second T-Shirt The first adjustment to make is to add a second technical t-shirt. This keeps your torso from the damp winds of fall yet allows your arms to start their adaptation to the cold.

Stage 2: Gloves Fingers always get cold earlier in the fall than I expect. A pair of light, wicking gloves will make for much more pleasant runs in the fall on cooler days and throughout winter. Polyester, acrylic, and polypropylene won’t kill you.

Stage 3: Knit hat This not only gives you warmth but it’s the single best way to adjust your heat during a run. Put it on when you get started, take it off as you warm up, then put it back on again as you slow down at the end of your run. Make sure it’s not too heavy. Don’t use wool. Just a nice polyester or acrylic blend that isn’t holding onto moisture as you go. (Some do, and I can’t really explain why— so you may need to experiment with a few). For full effect, choose a Minnesota Vikings hat, then throw it off like Mary Tyler Moore when you are done.

Stage 4: Long-sleeved shirt as primary shirt Now that your arms have acclimated to the cold, we can ensconce them in some warmth. Switch to long sleeves in place of your short-sleeved base layer (rather than layering it quite yet).

Stage 5: Vest Nothing in my cold weather running life has vexed me more than the use of the vest. It’s incredibly versatile (perhaps second only to the knit hat.) I’ve answered koans more easily than questions related to proper use of the vest. (eg. “What is the color of wind? Answer: Tube socks!) I’ve come down to this. The vest basically serves the same role as the long-sleeved shirt. It’s paradoxical, I know, since by definition it has no arms. I have learned to live with that inconsistency. So that means you can add it here, or skip it and move right onto the next stage. Or substitute one for the other in any of this, up until the jacket comes into play. Don’t ever wear a vest with a jacket, no matter how good it looks on Chris Hemsworth. You are not Chris Hemsworth. It’s too much wind resistance and not enough warmth and wicking. My ideal vest is light, wind breaker type material that is bright colored with reflective strips for visibility. And a little big. That way, you can wear it here, primarily for its warming qualities, or over other layers as safety precaution in the twilight hours.

Stage 6: Long-sleeved shirt as second shirt Now you are back to layering. You can either ditch the vest, or ditch the t-shirt and use the vest on top of the long-sleeved shirt. Feel free to curse at that troublesome vest. Belegug siah!!

Stage 7: Tights or (non-lethal, see COTTON KILLS above) sweatpants One caveat. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve started to feel the cold in my knees more and more after I run. Summer, they don’t bother me. But as the weather turns, they can. I think it’s probably both the legs being less warm and ground being harder as the temps come down. What’s more, the reality that you may need to now run more often on cement sidewalks (rather than softer asphalt in the roads) if you are out in the dark after work puts you on the hardest possible surface. So if that’s an experience you notice, move the tights up on the progression to wherever you start to feel sore knees after a run in the cold.

Stage 8 Light jacket as second shirt (t-shirt or long-sleeved shirt as primary). Getting serious now. This is mostly about keeping the increasingly cold winds and moist air off of you. Warning: The worst decision of the winter is to overdress under this jacket— wicking won’t happen very easily when you have on a wind layer, so you are prone to catching a chill as you go. Stick with one layer underneath whenever you can. A full front zipper on the jacket is ideal, so you can lower it and ventilate as you warm up.

Stage 9 Mittens Gloves are fine on most cold days— but they are not as warm as mittens. I thought the gloves with the mitten covers would be a great idea, but have been disappointed. Once your fingers are cold in the gloves, adding the mitten cover doesn’t do kecy (that’s Czech). When it’s coold, only mittens will do.

Stage 10: The 3-Layer Maximum And when it’s coooooold, you go to 3 layers— one t-shirt, one long-sleeve shirt, and the light jacket with hat, mittens, tights. There is no fourth layer. EVER. If it’s too cold for three layers (and it can be), then go watch Elf. Notice that Buddy is happy in just tights, a jacket and hat. However, you are not an elf— and I know, (spoiler alert) neither is he, but don’t be a klár rass— today is not a running day.

Temperatures, Your Chart, and Real Feel

While there is no set timeline of how long to dress according to the different stages, you may be able to use temperature as a general guide.

Start with the temperature where you put on the second T-shirt. That first inkling that ok, fall is arriving. You probably have already noticed that is happening now on some days. For me, personally, it’s around 55 degrees Fahrenheit.

Now, jump to the end of the Cinquino Progression at Stage 10, The 3-Layer Maximum. This is where you draw the line. Where if it’s below that, you stay in. I’d encourage you to not fix this arbitrarily right now. But maybe just come up with a number that sounds reasonable, then pay attention this winter and see if you can push that a little— or if you are uncomfortable and need to dial it back. With me, being a winter wonder boy, it’s around 10 degrees. So in my case, I plan to pass through the entire Cinquino Progression in 45 degrees, or 4 – 5 degrees per stage.

Now use the Cinquino Progression chart to connect these two points by gradually filling in temperatures, until you have kind of a rule of thumb about what to wear in a specific temperature. PLEASE NOTE: That kind of enormously oversimplified chart (of what to wear for any specific temperature) should ONLY be consulted after you’ve made it through a large chunk of the progression, and the temperature changes abruptly. Then, it can help you get a quick answer on what you might want to wear that specific day. Specific results will vary.
So be judicious with the chart. The whole idea here is to move through each and every stage of the progression. That’s why it works.

Final note on temperature. I’ve come around on the use of Real Feel as a more accurate measure than temperature, after I examined Accu Weather’s patent filing, which you can find here. ( Spoiler alert #2: sunshine matters.

There’s no place like snow. There’s no place like snow. There’s no place like snow.

Payoff #2: The Best Run of the Year

By now, you realize, the winter is not something I want to escape from, it’s what I want to be in the middle of. I’m not a big skier or ice fisher. My favorite way to be one with the season is to run through it. To fly the coop. Strut my tail feather.

This yellow brick road of progression leads us to running’s Oz: the annual run that revives me, well, like the snow in The Wizard of Oz poppy field. (Maybe not the best simile since the reason our heroes were so doped up was because heroin comes from poppies and the filmmakers actually used industrial grade asbestos to make it snow. Sometimes, a know-it-all knows too much.)

Smack and mesothelioma aside, that day of the first snow is the best of the best. When I’ve properly worked my way through The Cinquino Progression, on this day, I can often ditch a few layers and be out in the snow and really be present with it. I am not hidden away, addled under too many layers. I am not trying to push the cold away to pretend it’s not there. Most years, I can do this run back at stage 4, without tights or maybe with tights but just a t-shirt or two. Or yes, a vest.

When you immerse yourself in that magic moment, when the first fluffy (real) snow is falling, and the winter is no longer coming, but actually upon us, like a gentle knock on the door, you arrive as a true winter runner. That is the day that the cold weather kid in me lives for— the silence, the calm, the old friend of a thousand winters come again to welcome me into its home. There’s no place like home.

Mulligan Moment of 2016 – Running Edition

As loyal readers of Taking Mulligans know, the disappointing circumstances of my final high school track meet started a thread of endeavors that led me to, more than 30 years later, write an upcoming book and two major features stories for Runners’ World (The Mulligan Mile, Cross Country Romance).   I can only imagine where Justin DeLuzio’s final college cross country race will propel him.  Other than a cornfield.

In November, he was about a mile into running that race for Gwyneed Mercy University, when a deer blindsided him and knocked him airborne– and into the viral running clip of the year.   Click below for ESPN’s coverage of it.


CLICK HERE for Viral Running Clip of the Year

Getting knocked down may win you viral clip of the year. But it’s what’s not on this clip that won him our Mulligan Moment of the Year– getting back up to finish the last 4 miles of the race.   And what’s more, it’s a few thoughts he shared in this interview with NPR that resonated most with Taking Mulligans.  Listen and you’ll hear some good advice for going forward into 2017.  Surprisingly, he’s not the one in the interview that encourages us to get back up when we get knocked down.  His advice?  No resentment.  Be grateful.  Be aware.

And for that, Justin DeLuzio, an actuarial science student from Limerick, PA, wins Running’s Mulligan Moment of the Year.

photo from PennLive.comjustin-deluzio-4683b2d412c5a580_png__png_image__620-x-466_pixels_

CLICK HERE for Talking With Justin  to hear and read an interview with Justin.





Submit Your Nomination for Mulligan Moments of 2016

Within the next few weeks, Taking Mulligans will be accepting nominations for  Mulligan Moments of the Year.  When you make a nomination, you become eligible for one of the grand prizes of priceless value:  a lousy poem from me written personally for you.

Running’s Mulligan Moments of the Year recognize the achievements (large and small), observations (grand and flippant) and contributions (tangible and ephemeral) of runners, (famous, infamous, and unknown), that demonstrated the resolve, awareness, good intention and blind luck that occurs when you run like there’s no tomorrow and live like there’s no yesterday.

In short, someone who took a second chance and made it count.  Let us know if you have someone in mind.

Maybe you know a runner who’s overcome some serious obstacle in her life this.   Let us know.  It could be someone who barely runs. Or someone who is obsessed with running.

Who helped you appreciate the power of running this year?


Maybe you were inspired by an athlete who achieved a goal, rose to a challenge, put distractions aside or simply showed up and did his job when called upon.  Let us know. Maybe it was an Olympian, a weekend runner, or someone on your kid’s cross country team.

What stood out as a moment of redemption?

Maybe you saw a movie, a race, a show, an election, where someone ran with dignity, grace and the power that comes from putting the past aside and making the best of situation, or making life better or simply more vivid.  Let us know.

McFARLAND, USA..Ph: Film Frame..?Disney 2015
What movie, song, show, lousy poem, or other creative piece made you stop and pay attention to what’s good about life?

Just let us know a little bit about who you are nominating and why– via a direct message, email, tweet, retweet, blog comment, FB comment or Instagram post.  Skywriting and tracings in the sand will be considered for featuring, but not eligible for prizes.


Who deserves our attention?

I’ll be posting some of my own ideas and would love to hear some of yours.  All featured entries will be awarded with a personal epic poem dedicated to you, badly written by yours truly, based on your Twitter, Facebook or Instagram feed.   Deadline for entries is December 19, unless you are a member of the electoral college.  Then, by all means, take another day.

I’m hiding in plain sight on:



Facebook Group




Turkey Trots v. Marathons: The David and Goliath of Running

“David’s victory over Goliath, in the Biblical account, is held to be an anomaly. It was not. Davids win all the time,” according to Malcolm Gladwell in a gobsmacking brilliant New Yorker piece and his New York Times best-seller David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits and the Art of Battling Giants.  Gladwell (my fellow Fifth Avenue miler and from this picture, apparently my new best friend) goes on to explain the secret to David’s success, the secret that is employed by a remarkable range of combatants in his work, a from a middle school girls basketball team to Lawrence of Arabia.  It’s playing by your rules, not the rules of Goliath.

A couple weekends ago, I was at the Goliath of running:  The New York City Marathon. It’s a massive, sprawling love fest of pageantry and logistics on a scale that is almost inconceivable: about 50,000 runners set out across the Verrazano Bridge to take part in a sport that is essentially something you learn by the time you are two years old: running and not falling down.

And in exchange for all the spectacle of running with 49,999 of your closest friends, you receive a credit card bill like the ones being sent to Kerry Close of Money magazine. She added up up how much it cost her to run NYC this year: $1,057.50– and that’s with only $10 in transportation costs and no hotel costs, since she lives right in the metro NY area. Imagine if you had to add a flight and a couple nights of hotel and cab rides to that total.

Silly Paddington. You don’t need to run New York to participate in running’s biggest weekend.


Which brings us to realization that even that Goliath marathon, broadcast on national television and covered by every major sports network reaching billions of people across the world, can’t beat David.  And David is a turkey.

For the single biggest running day of the year isn’t the New York Marathon, or Chicago or Boston.  It’s not the Peachtree.  All those races have the expos, the promotion, the goodie bags, the headlines and the elite runners.  But the biggest event of all is the humble Turkey Trot that is  probably taking place in your zip code next weekend.  That turkey trot is bigger because it plays by its own rules– local, dedicated and much simpler than a big city marathon.  Run and don’t fall down.  And yes, if you have to wear a pilgrim’s hat, by all means be Miles Standish proud, congratulate me.

Thanksgiving weekend is now the single largest racing weekend of the calendar year.  RunningUSA reports that 901,753 of you finished a Thanksgiving race last year.   (Can the Million Mashed Potato March be far off?).   Simple, close to home, boiled down to the essence of why many of us run: to enjoy our bodies, the fresh air and the company of others.   And perhaps to work up an appetite– or burn off a little of that appetite’s side effects. lists 1,459 Thanksgiving-themed races this month.  Find one near you by clicking here.

Runner’s World highlights some of the better known ones here, including the nation’s longest consecutively run Thanksgiving race in Buffalo, NY,  started in 1896.  That will be held not far from where I’m guessing that alumni and friends of my beloved Notre Dame High School of Batavia, NY will gather for their completely informal, off the beaten path tailgate and turkey trot on Thanksgiving morning this year (see photo below), as always.

Wherever two or more are gathered, there is reason to run. Feel free to photoshop out the Santa hats and insert turkey headdress. This was from last year’s Jingle Bell Jog.

Of course, the popularity of the turkey trot has not escaped race organizers, and now there are as many as 13 races that have more than 7,000 finishers, according to RunningUSA.  But no worries, even if a Goliath or two emerges from this field, David will always win.

So get out there and run.

Your felt roasted turkey hat is your smooth stone, and your running shoes are your slingshot.  Gobble one up.


Neighborhood Watch

I wasn’t able to run in this year’s Runner’s World Half & Festival.  But since I can see the race from my front door in Historic Bethlehem, PA, I had almost as much fun taking in the scene.   As you can see from my photos, it’s a fun and fabulous race filled with just the right amount of crazies.   Hope to be running in it with you next year!  For more race photos, go to the official RW Half website.

Clear skies, early autumn colors and Bethlehem’s Finest.


The trampoline peanut gallery.

Don’t tread on me.


There is the church, there is the steeple. Look at the course and see all the people.


Why do pacers smile so much? I’d be worried sick.

Everyone’s Budd.











The Liberty band gives a boost to the Sub 30 Club, a merry band of runners.

My phone died 3 minutes after taking this one. No joke.

No. Just. No.

Alert the authorities.

Sunday morning.

A Running Wish From Alaska

Run is a word that runners take for granted. It’s ours. We own it. We remind everyone around us incessantly with our mileage counts, tights and bulky watches that we are the chosen ones, the runners.

On my first trip to Alaska, I found that we are not alone.  Other things run.   My plane ran late, and I was feeling a little run down, and my daughter’s nose was running, but my toilet did not.  What’s more, even though it does happen to me more than I would care to admit, and is a bit of an occupational hazard for a writer like me, who should really know better, considering how many courses I’ve taken and how many of them I’ve put together over the many years that I have pursued this avocation of mine, which perhaps you share too, it was not my sentences, other than this one, that were running on.  (And yes, among writers, that’s a running joke.)

We could see the salmon running through Ketchican, AK from the bridge outside our room.

I was in Ketchican, Alaska, and the most popular runners in this town are not people like us.  They are the salmon.

Ketchican is self-proclaimed Salmon Capital of the World.  And when we visited in mid-July, they were just starting to head back upstream to the place where they were born.  Not just to visit for a spaghetti dinner, like I do when I go home to visit my hometown.  They were going to drop off some eggs. And die. Or, if they have flair for the dramatic, be eaten by bears or by the waves of bald eagles we saw there day after day.   So when I took my scenic run around town and along the salmon creek that yes, runs, in the middle of town, with the hope that this runner would escape that kind of ironic ending to this trip.

So could the bald eagles.

So here’s my running wish for you from Alaska: next time you head out for a run , may you run like the salmon, but eat like the eagle.



The End of the Beginning

Here are some lasting images and observations from Days 3 and 4 of the first big-time track meet I’ve ever attended, the U.S. Olympic Trials in Eugene, OR last weekend.

Practically every event had me on the brink of choking up with emotion, seeing the athletes put so much at stake for one singular chance to compete in Rio.  A handful did, and a boatload did not.  Curiously, I found myself emotionally going back and forth between the dids and the didnots.   For me, that impulse is one I can’t always plan. Who I actually find myself rooting for tells me something that is indiscernible with logic. Only in the moment on the brink do I realize whose story is tugging at me.   That happens in life too– I often use that “heart tug” to show me the way through a decision that is not revealing itself to me through analysis.

I hope you find yourself rooting for someone in Rio, when these athletes begin to represent the United States on the track.




Ashton Eaton finishes the 1500m to win the decathlon.

And when the World’s Greatest Athlete invites you to a pool party, you go. His fellow decathletes have their own Rocky/Apollo Creed moment in the steeplechase pit.

Allyson Felix settles in for the start of the 400m. My heart is probably beating faster than hers at this point.

Felix won the event with world’s best time this year. Look for her on a podium in Rio.

This is how my stomach felt to be so close to my track crush.

I did not make the team.


On Independence Day morning, I drove out to Florence, OR to see the sand dunes. What struck me even more was the surreal shelters built from driftwood. Just goes to show what beautiful and useful pieces can be built from what others’ discard.

Allyson Felix be warned. Emma Coburn may be my new track crush after her dominating win the 3,000m steeplechase.

In the most talked about race on the first weekend, Alysia Montano leads on the first lap of the 800m, with a flower in her hair.

But Montano finishes alone and despondent. She tumbled just before the final turn and poof!, just like that, her Olympic dream ends.

Montano’s daughter Linnea consoles her mom after the race. Montano famously competed in the US Championships two years ago while 34 weeks pregnant with Linnea.

In my favorite photo of the weekend, Akron’s Clayton Murphy blows by Boris Berian to win the 800m. Both go to Rio.

Murphy, Berian and Charles Jock. Your 800m US Olympic team.

My brush with greatness. I got to meet Dave Wottle, who was one of the first distance runners I ever idolized when he won the 1972 Olympic 800m race with his mammoth kick. He is still the last US man to win the race. This time, I wore the hat.

So long, Historic one. Thanks for bringing together so many staggeringly prepared athletes (and track nerds) in one place. Who knew?

Trials, Tribulations and Track and Field

Here are some images that caught my eye on July 2, 2016 in Eugene, Oregon during the United States Olympic Trials, the second day of the meet to choose America’s representatives in Rio.


I was not allowed entry.



The main event on Day Two was the women’s 10k. Molly Huddle took the lead on the first lap and never looked back. Three things I like about her: 1. She’s a fellow New York state product, hailing from Elmira, which I routinely pass through on my way to visit my own hometown of LeRoy, NY. 2) She was born the year I graduated from college in nearby Syracuse. 3) Her name is Molly Huddle, which sounds more like an American Girl doll than America’s most dominant middle distance runner.


My main interest in the race was to root for Laura Thweatt, a Colorado runner I had met at the past two USATF Cross Country Club Championships, where she won the race in my current hometown, Bethlehem, PA in 2014. See my article in Runners World about this race, “Cross Country Romance”. You can see Laura challenging for her place on the US Olympic Team with this move to the front of the pack, on Huddle’s shoulder.


Laura was the top American female in the NYC Marathon last year and was looking to make her first Olympic Team.


Unfortunately for her, she couldn’t maintain that position and drifted back into the field. I was proud to be there to see her compete so strongly though– and hope to see her again this year as she continues her excellence in cross country racing. Note to Sebastian Coe: Let’s hurry up and get cross country as an Olympic event in the 2022 Winter Games!


Oregon is home to many big names in running, including this one.


When My Baby Smiles At Me, I Go To Eugene

As exotic as Peter Allen’s lyrical invitation may be, I am not going to Rio. Day-Jena-Arrow.  As close as I’m getting is Eugene, Oregon, home of the U.S. Olympic Trials for Track and Field. I was in TrackTown for last weekend’s events and wanted to share a few images that caught my eye.

Even though I’ve been following track and field intently since the 1972 Olympics,  this was my the first major track meet I’d ever attended. In fact, it’s actually the only one I’d ever seen in full other than my own high school meets more than 35 years ago.

From seeing many of the heroes of my day paraded out to wave to the crowd and bestow medals upon this year’s team, to the (literally) ups and downs of competitive racing, to the sheer magnificence of the athletes performing with so much at stake, it was a weekend to remember.

Here’s some of what I remember from Day One.

I believe this vague sign was from a local sandal company. Not sure it will ever catch on. What do they even mean by “It”?


Best breakfast of the past 25 years (since leftover Mexican on Half Moon Bay beach). Some kind of Koreanesque hot bowl at Tasty and Alder in Portland.


IMG_2440 Historic Hayward Field is the Fenway Park of American Track. I’d have said Wrigley, but the hometown heroes at the University of Oregon actually win here.


My own hometown hero, Joe Kovacs of Bethlehem Catholic High School, gathers himself before the throw that would put him on the U.S. Olympic Shot Put team.


The 800m was Berry Berry good for Boris Berian.


The top performer of the weekend was no doubt, Allyson Felix. Here’s that moment before she takes the blocks for the first heat of the Trials in the 400m. As beautiful as she looks on television, seeing her run in person was a revelation. She runs like a spider, long swift strides that make the track disappear behind her.


Galen Rupp picks up the flag given to the top 3 finishers of every final, symbolizing their place on the Olympic Team. He already had secured a berth on the marathon team, and his dominant run in the 10,000m left no doubt. He’s the man. And he’s greedy in the best way.


Spelling Fun with Raritan Valley Road Runners

On a day where snow is going to prevent many of us from running, I am left to think back about some of the most memorable runs of 2015.

And while here’s no place I love running more than in New York’s Central Park, I think my favorite NYC run this year was when I was on my way to the park but never got there.

You see, as I headed out of my midtown hotel on a Sunday am in December, I ran smack into something that immediately diverted me from my route to the park.

I mean how could I look away once I saw this?

Processed with MOLDIV

I don’t get a ton of giddy, happy smiles and leaping tutus in midtown Manhattan, even during the Christmas season.   But there they were, a frolicking pack of jolly runners having way too much fun to ignore.

I instantly recognized that my new destination was the journey with these folks

“How far are you guys going?,” I asked one of the women who had the biggest smile of the crowd.  “Oh I don’t know,” she said. “We are doing the letters run.”

I had no idea what a letters run was, but she was cute. And cute is cute and fun is fun, so I asked if I could join in and she enthusiastically welcomed me to the club. I thought maybe they were with the post office

As we went on, it seemed less like a delivery route and like the kind of run I often do in my own town. We ran through the streets seemingly at random.  We’d go a block, turn, go another block turn, stop, start.

Not exactly a rigorous training run, but more like the kind of playful romp I advocate as the best remedy to bring fun and spontaneity to an otherwise monotonous running routine.

Not only did we keep stopping for group photos…


….. but I was quickly volunteered to be the club photographer.



As it turns out this  run was not random at all.  In fact, it was an annual ritual of one of New Jersey’s more active running clubs, the Raritan Valley Road Runners.

Our path wasn’t just following the whims of the pack leader, it was a very precise attempt to spell out the initials of the club, RVRR, on the GPS watches of the group.



When a run is more play than work, it is, by definition, a good run.  No matter how you spell it, this was a good run.

And I have the smiles to prove it– and Raritan Valley Road Runners to thank for it!