MARATHON COUNTDOWN : As Sunday’s Race in L.A. Nears, Actor Jack Scalia Eats, Sleeps and Thinks Running in Preparation

Jack Scalia has been nervous this week about running in Sunday’s City of Los Angeles Marathon.

And although the tall, dark-haired actor has trained as hard as he could for the race, he thinks he will be too excited to sleep tonight on the eve of the event.

Scalia, who portrays Nicholas Pearce on “Dallas,” says the excitement of competing in a 26.2-mile marathon starts long before thousands of runners gather at the starting line.

“You get apprehensive anticipating how it’s going to go,” he said this week. “You’re wondering, ‘What am I going to be thinking at certain times on the course? Am I going to stay strong at all times? Have I been running the right amount of miles? Have I been taking in the right amount of nutrition?’ ”

The excitement builds until the night before the race, when he is usually too keyed up to sleep. Scalia says he knows one thing: If he doesn’t get his rest two and three nights before a marathon, he’s in for a long day of running.

Conditioning Regimen

“The second and third nights before a race are the important sleep nights,” he said. “I usually try to get eight to 12 hours. The night before, my adrenaline starts pumping so I usually don’t sleep that well.”

To make sure that he would do as well as possible in the marathon, Scalia, 37, conditioned his cardiovascular system for a month and ran six days a week, averaging 30 to 45 miles each week, for most of two months. He wanted to run more, but strained ligaments in his knee prevented him.

But that’s not all Scalia is doing to help meet his goal of shaving 15 minutes off his time of 3:31:01 in last year’s City of Los Angeles race. He plans to eat a large pasta dinner, loaded with carbohydrates, tonight.

And a few weeks ago he drove the Marathon course, which he had not traveled in its entirety since his run a year ago.

“It’s always good to see something again,” he said, “to reevaluate the running and training I do . . . and to decide where I might do something differently.”

Scalia drove the course in his large maroon van, which is a testament on wheels to his devotion to running.

Behind the driver’s seat, the rear compartment is empty except for built-in dressers, which hold running shorts and shirts so Scalia can dress to run anywhere he goes. The rug on the floor steadies a jug of water so Scalia can keep drinking to remain hydrated. He also brings along a basketball so he can practice jump shots wherever he wishes.

During this drive, however, Scalia’s mind was completely on the marathon. As he drove the race route through downtown Los Angeles, Little Tokyo, Echo Park, Hollywood, Hancock Park and South Central Los Angeles, he said each area posed different problems for runners.

Leaving the starting point near the Coliseum and turning north onto Figueroa Street, Scalia called the long, flat straightaway into downtown a dandy way to start a race.

He said the easy getaway provided the marathoners with a chance to stretch their legs and get them loose. The runners would feel so good, he warned, that many would unwisely start to run at full speed even though 25 miles of running remained.

In the downtown area and headed east for Little Tokyo, Scalia pointed out other potential dilemmas: injury-threatening situations on the street surfaces. In those parts of town, he said, potholes could cause twisted ankles, and steel plates covering construction ditches could get wet and cause runners to slip and tear muscles.

During the first few miles when the field is still together, the contestants should also be wary of bunching up, he said.

“You have people who might be trying to cut inside of you. . . . You don’t want to start banging elbows. . . . There’s a possibility that there might be a jam-up and I trip over them.”

When the runners leave Little Tokyo and the field begins to spread out, Scalia said, they see new sights and faces rapidly as they pass Olvera Street and Chinatown.

“You’re aware of what’s happening because the faces change,” he said. “There’s a whole different atmosphere. I’ve eaten down in these areas many times.

“I’m running past a restaurant where I eat. . . . When I think ‘Here I am running by this restaurant that I normally drive to,’ I chuckle to myself and say . . . ‘I’m in a race right now in Chinatown. I normally drive to this place. Why am I in this race? Why am I doing this?’ ”

But that thought vanishes as the runners emerge from Chinatown and head northwest on Sunset Boulevard to challenge 3 miles of rolling hills, the longest climb of the race. As Scalia said: “A hill will wake you up real quick.”

Unlike most runners, Scalia likes these uphill battles. He runs frequently in the hills near his Sherman Oaks home, so he practically salivates at the sight of an incline in a race.

Can Push on Hills

“Some people get on flats and they can excel,” he said. “I’m OK on flats but I (prefer) running hills. It’s a whole different mentality. I can push harder on it. I like to push myself. I pride myself on training on hills and mountains.”

If he’s in top form on a hill, Scalia said, he can pass runners and build his confidence.

“You can break a lot of people on hills,” he said. “It can be very disheartening when you have somebody on a hill just pass you when you’re working hard. . . . More importantly, (passing someone) can build you psychologically.”

His strategy when he reaches a hill, such as the ones on Sunset, he said, is to quicken his pace when he gets to within 100 yards of each incline and to run hard to the crest, passing competitors along the way. As he reaches the summit and descends, he relaxes and enjoys running downhill.

‘Establish Your Tempo’

Near the end of the downhill about a third of the way through the race, as Sunset meets Hollywood Boulevard, Scalia said, “the legs have loosened up and the excitement of the start of the race has worn off. Hopefully, by that time you’ll establish what you feel will be your tempo.”

As the miles begin to accumulate on marathon day, and as he reaches the half-way point and turns south into Orange Drive, and then east on Sunset Boulevard, Scalia said he begins to use the cheers of the crowd as a motivator.

“It’s great,” he said. “They’ll pick out your number or the color of your shorts.”

He also relies on the camaraderie with other runners to help him along.

“Last year I was running with these guys who were dressed up like bumblebees,” he said. “There are other (costumes). . . . The race is fun even though it’s hard work. . . . But they’re not so comical when they pass you.”

Sometimes Body Falters

Yet at some points in a 26.2 mile run, encouragement cannot maintain the runner and the body falters. At those moments water may be helpful, and Scalia will take one of the sloshing cups handed out by volunteers at every mile mark along the way.

Sometimes he splashes water over his hair or his face to cool off, and that can cause problems.

Last year, he said, “all that water I was picking up and splashing on myself went down into my shoes and they got soggy.” Wet shoes and socks can cause burning, callouses or blisters.

If the water keeps him cool and if he is still feeling well, Scalia said, by the time he has navigated to Vine Street and has reached Vine’s continuation into Rossmore Avenue, he will be enjoying the sight of the large Hancock Park homes and the shade from the tall trees along the curbs.

Wilshire Boulevard--and Pain

After another eastward turn, the pleasure of Rossmore will give way to the pain of Wilshire Boulevard, if last year’s experience is any indication.

As he neared the 18-mile mark on Wilshire Boulevard a year ago, Scalia felt the effects of a lack of training for the race. He had prepared for only 4 1/2 weeks and had run 18 miles only once. He began to cramp and at the 22-mile mark he hit the wall, the place where the competitive runner feels he cannot continue.

“My legs turned to rock,” he said. “There was nothing left physically. It seemed like the air was all out of me.

“The relaxed cadence that I had, the easiness that was in the body, even at mile 17 or 18 . . . was leaving,” he said. “The body functions were starting to get a little bit out of hand.

Finally Overheated

“The mind was floating a little bit more. I couldn’t concentrate. I had to keep focusing on my feet. I was just sort of running, running, running. You’ve got to find a way to get through it.”

Near the 25-mile mark he walked over to railroad tracks along Exposition Boulevard and vomited. “It was my heater, like in a car, just overheated,” he said.

Getting sick helped him, however, because he recovered and ran the last mile quickly. As he turned into Menlo Avenue near the finish, the sight of the Coliseum was a welcome one.

Running 26.2 miles may not be everybody’s idea of fun, but Scalia said he enjoyed it. The 1986 Marathon was his first, but this year Scalia wants to enter not only the City of Los Angeles race but the prestigious Boston and New York marathons.

A Longtime Athlete

Such an ambitious schedule would be in keeping with his athletic background. In addition to marathons, the 6-foot-1, 170-pound former minor league baseball pitcher has competed in 30 triathlons, which require a 1.2-mile swim, a 6.2-mile run and a 25-mile bicycle ride. He plans to continue to enter those competitions as well.

Scalia says that being a member of a large ensemble company for “Dallas” doesn’t require him to work every day, so he has time to train for these events. In addition, the competition satisfies an important inner need.

“This is an opportunity for me to excel within myself,” he said. “. . . As an actor, idle time gives me a lot of frenetic energy, and I’m finding real joy in running. Whenever I’ve done something, I’ve tried to do it all at once. I’m an obsessive person, and I’ve had to tone that down.”

The L.A. Marathon begins Sunday at 9 a.m. at the Coliseum.