I don’t love swimming, biking, push-ups, weightlifting, discus throwing, tossing the caber or Johnny on the Pony.

Running seven days a week is really, really bad for my legs, so my off-days are off-days. I don’t run and I don’t (grimace) cross-train.

That is, until an injury forced me to find some way to maintain a semblance of aerobic fitness while recuperating. Standing in the gym with dozens of machines from which to choose, my lone criterion was to find the one that most closely approximated running but didn’t involve slamming my feet onto a hard surface thousands of times.

So I mounted an elliptical trainer. Designed to mimic cross-country skiing, in practice it is sort of halfway between a treadmill and a stationary bike. I had never used one before, but I figured if Otis the cat could figure it out in three minutes, so could I.

Ellipticals are increasingly popular, with everyone from marathoners to Darth Vader using them. It is especially good to know that if terrorists attack your local fitness center, our Marines are trained to fight without dismounting the elliptical machine.

My first outing was for 15 minutes at Level 1, and I was racing away without a care in the world, my hands locked around the heart-rate handles. Then I finished, and for the next five days could not walk down stairs, step off curbs or stand on my toes. I had completely destroyed my calves.

It turns out my posture was bad, and failing to use the arm handles made the problem worse. When I returned to the gym, I stood up straight, started slower, and used the handles. I’m getting a reasonably good cardio workout, but I hadn’t anticipated the extra benefit of the arm work. The workout was easier because pulling on the handles takes some strain off your legs and, strangely enough, you get into the habit of using your arms more efficiently when you get back to running.

Arm drills for running aren’t exactly a new technique, but you may find a little elliptical work preferable to bouncing off your butt at the track.

I’ve got a long way to go before I’m a cross-training convert, but at least my non-running days are a little more productive than they used to be.

Join the Carnival of Running at RunningIsFunny.com. Select one (1) post per week from your blog and e-mail the permalink to carnival@runningisfunny.com. Links to the best and funniest are posted for all to enjoy each week.

But can they dance?

Judge for yourself in this video of Bolt and Powell having a dance-off at a party sponsored by Puma after the Olympics.

There is a hi-res version on the Puma web site titled Chasing Bolt.

I’m guessing this is another area where U.S. track and field falls short.

Thousands have enjoyed the video on YouTube, but there are two people who didn’t like it at all: Powell’s parents, who are both church pastors.

“It makes me sad because I have a congregation that I have to preach to, and I don’t enjoy seeing him out there like that,” said Powell’s mom. “God gave him those feet to bring joy to the world, but not in that form of dancing.”

Join the Carnival of Running at RunningIsFunny.com. Select one (1) post per week from your blog and e-mail the permalink to carnival@runningisfunny.com. Links to the best and funniest are posted for all to enjoy each week.

I was perfectly willing to fill it with my normal rantings, but I wondered if there was a Carnival of Running to help me direct readers to other useful material.

For those of you unfamiliar with the term, a blog carnival is, according to Wikipedia, “a type of blog event. It is similar to a magazine, in that it is dedicated to a particular topic, and is published on a regular schedule, often weekly or monthly. Each edition of a blog carnival is in the form of a blog article that contains permalinks to other blog articles on the particular topic.”

This is a long way of saying it is a weekly round-up of blog posts on a single subject. BlogCarnival.com lists more than 5,300 carnivals on topics ranging from homeschooling to investing to my personal favorite, the Carnival of Brevity.

I was surprised to discover that there hadn’t been a Carnival of Running for a long time. The last one appeared in March 2008 on See Kevin Run.

I decided to pick up the ball, using submissions from readers and choosing others from the ultimate resource – our very own Running Blog Family.

The first edition of the Carnival of Running went up Wednesday, and I hope you’ll check it out and consider submitting a blog post of your own for edition #2. I’m especially looking for stories that are amusing and entertaining.

All you have to do is e-mail the permalink to carnival@runningisfunny.com. If I get it by Tuesday morning, chances are good it will show up in Wednesday’s issue. If it’s late, I’ll consider holding it over until the following week.

So, if you’re interested in running as it relates to gorilla suits, bee stings and goose droppings, the Carnival of Running is your kind of read.

I was pretty bummed about it, especially because my wife and I planned a week’s vacation around the Maui Half Marathon. OK, so we were still going to enjoy the sun, sand and surf, but there was a bit of a letdown.

I brought my running gear with me in the hope I could get a couple of miles in, but the race was definitely out—until Wednesday night. For some insane reason, I decided I desperately wanted my finisher’s t-shirt and medal. My leg was coming around, and the only thing holding me back was that I was woefully unprepared to go 13.1 miles.

I laid my plan before the lovely Mrs. A. and, God bless her, she didn’t go through the obvious list of reasons why it was a really bad idea. Instead, she encouraged me to go ahead, as long as I was careful.

Don’t try this at home, but here is my five-week half-marathon training program:

Week 1: Run one day for 7 miles
Week 2: Run three days, 2, 3 and 4 miles, for a total of 9 miles
Week 3: Run one day for 4 miles
Week 4: Run one day for 2 miles
Week 5: Run 4 miles on Thursday and 4 miles on Friday, run half-marathon on Sunday

The race began promptly at 5:30 a.m., to avoid the worst of the tropical heat, but it was still in the mid-70s at the start. I began at the absolute back of the pack, to avoid any temptation to go out too fast. And for the first time in a long time, I ran a race completely anxiety-free. It’s actually liberating to know you’re going to run a lousy time. I waved to the crowd and the volunteers. I admired the gorgeous scenery. I joked with other runners.

It was great.

Considering my lack of training, I figured I would be fortunate to run to the halfway mark, and I would walk/jog the way back. But I reached the turnaround point in good spirits and with no discomfort, so I kept going.

The heat was beginning to take its toll, however. I ran to mile 10 in 1:40, walked for a mile while slathering myself with ice-cold sponges, and resumed a slow trot.

The last two miles were eye-opening for me, since most runners around me were really struggling, including the guy just in front of me who spewed a geyser of Gatorade. I, on the other hand, was having a blast. I “sprinted” the last half-mile and finished in 2:17:35 – my worst half-marathon by 13 seconds.

It occurred to me at the finish that the appeal of distance running is doing something you can’t even picture yourself doing. And while I know I’m capable of much better, I was just as happy with that 2:17 as I would have been with a 1:39.

Don’t wait for an injury to try a race for fun. You can hammer a fast pace the other 364 days.

Hey everyone! I’m reviving the Carnival of Running at RunningIsFunny.com. Select one (1) post per week from your blog and e-mail the permalink to carnival@runningisfunny.com. Links to the best and funniest will be posted for all to enjoy each week. Act now! The first carnival launches next week!

Normally I would consider a run through a graveyard in July’s sweltering heat an ill omen. But the temperature cooperated and there was plenty of shade. The only downside was, well, not wanting to stand around on the grass, if you know what I mean.

It got me to thinking about other road races and the efforts to make the courses interesting. For the most part, this involves incorporating local tourist attractions. Here in Sacramento, we have a half-marathon that crosses the Tower Bridge and finishes inside Raley Field, the minor league baseball stadium, with the finish broadcast on the Jumbotron. Our marathon finishes in front of the State Capitol.

In nearby San Francisco, the marathon includes a loop across the Golden Gate Bridge, but only three lanes of traffic are closed, so I’m sure it gets a bit crowded.

The New York City Marathon takes you through all five boroughs, but the half-marathon (held last weekend) seems to feature more sights—a complete loop of Central Park, then down Seventh Avenue to Times Square, then over to the West Side Highway all the way down to Battery Park, with a view of the Statue of Liberty.

The Walt Disney World Marathon takes you through all five theme parks, but there are very long stretches between parks devoid of scenery and human beings.

The Derby Festival Marathon in Kentucky takes you once around the infield at Churchill Downs, but the 500 Festival Mini-Marathon in Indianapolis tops that with a full 2.5 mile circuit of the track at the Motor Speedway.

Of course, international races also highlight their host city’s attractions. The finish at the Berlin Marathon takes you through the Brandenburg Gate, while the London Marathon ends in front of Buckingham Palace.

Of course, sometimes the race itself creates the landmarks. If the Boston Marathon didn’t exist, who would notice Heartbreak Hill? And wouldn’t this just be another sign?

If my calculations are correct, Tyson Gay achieves a speed of 23 mph for his 100 meter sprints. You couldn’t get a bicycle up to that speed from a standing start.

So I decided to learn about the Olympians at the other end of the spectrum—those who failed to measure up. In short, I wanted to know about the worst Olympic performances in history.

Since television began covering the Olympics, we have seen a bevy of lachrymose profiles of athletes who overcame various impediments to reach the Games. Like monetary inflation, the more stories that appeared, the less value each had. But the sagas of the worst Olympians have it all: humor, pathos, and yes, inspiration.

I’m indebted to this site for listing all the worst performances in Olympic history (a 2.4 meter pole vault? What was he using, a toothpick?). A little digging turned up these fascinating tales of the “worst” Olympic marathoners:

Abdul Baser Wasiqi achieved notoriety for posting the worst marathon time in Olympic history. He completed the race in 4:24 in 1996. Crews who were preparing the stadium for closing ceremonies had to remove the tarpaulin from the track so Wasiqi could finish.

Wasiqi had injured his hamstring prior to the race, but as Afghanistan’s only Olympic participant, he was determined to finish.

John Stephen Akhwari of Tanzania limped into the stadium in Mexico City in 1968 an hour after the winner. A cramp about halfway through the marathon caused him to fall, gashing his leg and injuring his knee. With a makeshift bandage, he completed the rest of the race. When asked by a commentator why he hadn’t dropped out, he famously said, “My country did not send me 5,000 miles to start the race; it sent me 5,000 miles to finish the race.”

Luvsanlkhundeg Otgonbayar of Mongolia was the slowest woman marathoner in Olympic history, finishing in 3:48 in Athens in 2004. But she was cheerful when it was all over. “Even if I finished last, it was all right, because I still finished and many people, even famous people, didn’t do that.”

Finally, we have Pyambuu Tuul of Mongolia, who finished last in the 1992 Barcelona marathon with a time of 4 hours flat. But Tuul had already gained an amazing victory. A cornea transplant had restored his sight in 1991 after 13 years of blindness.

If the tales of sports also-rans interest you, I recommend a visit to Runner-Up, a website that compiles them, and has the excellent tagline “Where Seconds Count.”

Knowing that you totally smoked Al Gore is inspirational for some, but isn’t it even more inspirational to know that you have accomplished something that very famous people have not?

I think so. So here is a list of celebrities who have never covered the 26.2. I’ll even use Mark’s categories:

Actor Non-Marathoners

Brad Pitt: He played Achilles in Troy, but he’s underqualified to play Pheidippides.

Daniel Craig: Excellent free running sequence as 007 in Casino Royale, but can he go the distance?

Jessica Alba: Swimming may be her best sport.
Halle Berry: Ditto.

Dustin Hoffman: Ran regularly while filming Marathon Man but couldn’t run 26.2 without Nazi dentists chasing him.

TV Personality Non-Marathoners

Kiefer Sutherland: Can only run with arms extended and a pistol in his hands, but is unmatched when it comes to Christmas tree wrestling.

CSI cast: Considering the running form displayed in this episode of CSI, I wouldn’t expect too many marathoners to come out of this group.

Athlete Non-Marathoners

Tiger Woods: Remind him of this next time you play 18 holes together.

Tyson Gay: The fastest man in America ran a wind-aided 9.68 in the 100 meters last month. If he could hold that pace for 26.2 miles, he would finish his first marathon in 1:08:04.

Musician Non-Marathoners

Keith Richards: Looks the way I feel at the end of a marathon.

Politician Non-Marathoners

Barack Obama: Kenyan genes and a thin build, but he’s running for something else.

Model Non-Marathoners

Kate Moss: GU has too many calories.

“The World Anti-Doping Agency is currently studying Viagra’s effects in athletes, but hasn’t yet banned it. Experts are divided over whether it actually offers athletes an edge.”

As a public service, CompleteRunning.com provides this series of advertising slogans to help Pfizer market Viagra to athletes:

* Viagra – Because it’s a game of inches.

* Viagra – Great for racing and tapering.

* Viagra – When the competition is stiff, so are you.

* Viagra – Make your long runs longer.

* Viagra – Runner’s high.

* Viagra – The women in your life will run faster, too.

* Viagra – Now when you hit the wall, you’ll knock it down.

* Viagra – Because you can’t teach size.

* Viagra – Play hardball.

* Viagra – Now your only worry will be motion control.

* Viagra – When you need to take it to the next level.

* Viagra – You can’t stop him. You can only hope to contain him.

* Viagra before the race. BodyGlide after.

* Viagra – Not for use during relays.

Of course, you are reading this on July 4th, the traditional Independence Day, but I went for my run on July 2nd, which, as everyone ought to know, is the real Independence Day.

I’m not much for scenery while running. My gaze usually centers on the ground about 15 feet in front of me, but it’s always great to discover a new place while running. This is a step-down week for me, so I didn’t have to worry about creating a long, complicated route.

I headed out from my hotel at 6:30 am, before the heat and humidity took over, and slowly warmed up down 14th Street, past the Department of Commerce. Traffic is thick in DC, so you’ll spend a lot of time waiting at traffic lights.

Before long I reached the National Mall, which is the kind of mall you hang out in. Come to think of it, that’s not much different from the other kind of mall. It’s pretty good for running, too, and even the Wikipedia page has the distances for you.

I turned east to see the sun over the Capitol. The path is pea gravel, and wide enough to accommodate many more runners than I encountered at this early hour. There are some undulations, so you need to avoid too much sightseeing or you’ll end up with a scraped knee.

Turning around at the front of the Capitol, you head for the Washington Monument, and a couple of miles later, you’re at the Lincoln Memorial. That’s a lot to see in a mere three-mile run.

It was so pleasant I wanted to keep going, but my schedule wouldn’t permit. Let’s see if I can top the feeling by going for a little run through Boston on Patriots’ Day.