Running & Then Some....
It Can Only Get Better
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….Cause it can’t get much worse…after a dismal finish in yesterday’s Joe Kleinerman 10k in Central Park, I spent much of the afternoon watching football and drinking Budweiser and Rolling Rock….I didn’t earn anything better than cheap American suds, no “Brooklyn Brown Ale or Lager”…I mean I wasn’t expecting any miracles, but to be a minute and 8 seconds slower than last year is a bitter ill to or a lousy American beer to swallow.
This “getting back” is gonna’ be harder than I thought. I’m sure its gonna’ build character as it is challenging to deal with disappointing races. I remember telling other runners who were struggling a bit this past year that “the work has been put in” and to “just allow it to develop.” It’s so much easier to help others than yourself. But I have no choice at this point.
Aside from November’s illness that cut into my training, I’ve had 2 years of solid training that allowed me to have a great past year and a half. The thing is, when you are running well, you don’t want it to end…when you begin to struggle a bit, you don’t ever see it coming back again…it’s as if the past 18 months of good races never happened. All I can think about is the current struggle, the aches and pains, and fearing the next race will be a repeat of the last race.
So yesterday’s 10k…which is 6.2 miles for those who were curious, was anything but celebratory…although most of my teammates ran really well, which is encouraging… However, from the initial warm-up, I knew it was gonna’ be a challenging morning. I wasn’t able to turn my legs over (strides) during the warm-up. Was it the cold weather…not sure, but I noticed my calves were not responding during this warm-up. They felt as if they had raced the day before…oh well…”suck it up,” there’s a race in 10 minutes.
Within the first mile which I felt was conservative at 6 minute pace, I knew the next 5.2 would be brutal as I was running all out…I didn’t have another gear…and although the next 5 miles were difficult, it was more about the aches in my calves. The thought of dropping out was there as I knew I wasn’t going to contribute to the team. But I haven’t dropped out from a race since I attempted to triple at a track meet in 1979. I vowed never to drop out again…because if you do it once, you will continue to do it as soon as the race becomes too difficult, whether it is physical pain or you are not happy with your placement. I’m not saying to run on a stress fracture, but I would rather finish on a stress fracture, then to drop-out…just the way I am (die trying).
I have to believe this will pass. I remember struggling with my first couple of races after last years marathon, and 2009 became a solid year for racing. So I didn’t finish where I finished last year, nor was my time even close to where it was last year, but I have to believe the aches and pains will pass and I will be able to run the way I want/should.
…And the same goes for anyone else struggling. This is a sport with huge peaks and valleys. If you ran great at every race, you would probably be Kenyan or Ethiopian…and I don’t wanna’ hear that’s an unfair statement…I’m not in a good mood, so to pick a fight with me over my belief that Kenyans are better than most runners would not be a good decision on your part. So after the valley, one can only anticipate a nice build-up to a peak and it’s that ride that we want and wait for…it’s a great feeling, better than “The Cyclone.” Until then it’s just a matter of waiting on line until it’s your turn for the ride.
Thanks to Lara and Robin for yelling yesterday…
Surprisingly Fast
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This was a week of trying to figure out how to get to Boston, other than driving or taking the train. I was trying to figure out how to recover, get motivated again, and begin a 4+ month chunk of my life dedicated to training for what may be my last marathon. I know…”never say never.” But as of right now, I need a break from all the miles. I want to get back to running fast again.
A quick explanation…there is a difference between running a fast marathon and “running fast again.” Marathon training actually makes you slower. You train yourself to run a certain pace that will allow you to finish 26.2 miles. That pace may be 6 minutes a mile for some and 10 minutes a mile for others. When you train for a 5k, that 6 minute pace will have to be 5 minutes a mile for the 5k and you naturally train yourself to run faster to compete at a 5k level. Last night I realized I missed that faster pace.
I grew up as a miler and eventually did 5k’s to help my mile races (on the track). I always said when I can’t run fast anymore, I would run marathons…sort of by default. Other than a forced attempt when I was 31…more about that at a later date, I waited until I wasn’t maintaing a 4:30+ mile and my body needed a change. So perhaps I need that change again…wow, the parallels between running and relationships pretty much guarantees I’ll be in relationship counseling for the rest of my life!
Anyway, last night was the start of a new training session at Urban. It meant an all out 1200m time trial to see where we all stood. In other words, the time trial gives information to the coaches so that they can base our workout pace throughout this next 2+ month session. I had no idea where I was in terms of my speed as most athletes don’t know. That’s why this workout or test is so important. The toughest part is running it at night (dark) and having to really watch the road…the last thing you wanna’ do is stumble or fall…you can’t recover from a stumble at 1200m.
So off we went last night. We had a good crew. Simon, Gerson, Steve, and I took it out. I felt that familiar “burn” in the back of my throat and the refrigerator on my back towards the end. When you race a mile or less, you can feel good and within 10 seconds, you can go into oxygen debt. You can’t get enough oxygen in you and you are literally gasping for a breath. It’s different than marathon. With the marathon, you are never out of breath…you just run out of fuel and that causes your legs to feel like rubber or completely lock up. I hope that kinda’ explains the difference between the two races….Anyway, I finished in 3:42, which equates to a 4:56 mile, assuming I could maintain that pace fro another 400m. Even if I lost a few seconds, it’s safe to say I am close to a 5 minute mile. Does that satisfy me? No way! But it felt so good to run that fast…it got me thinking that if I started training for my specialty (mile), the thought of running back in the 4:40 range seemed intriguing to me at the very least.
For now, I will take one event at a time. This Boston Marathon thing is something I am committed to and it’s time to get down to the business of training. As of now, I am not giving up drinking and certainly not Pop Tarts. I have not missed a Pop Tart session since the day after NYC. That is pure discipline and dedication. Talk about the perfect breakfast food…there is no effort involved…just open the package and it’s “Instant Utopia” which the faux frosting and yummy imitation fruit filling…it’s almost as good as……..and you don’t have to talk and cuddle afterwards. 
See you this Sunday at the 10k in “The Park….”
(Just Like) Starting Over
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Okay, so I’m borrowing a song title from John Lennon. But it’s all I’ve been thinking about lately. After a big race…whether it’s a half marathon, a marathon or a mile on the track, you have to eventually start over. Of course the marathon physically beats you up more than other races, but mentally, after a key race, you have to start over.
Essentially, that’s where I’m at these days…my body is pretty beat up and mentally, I’m drained. I am on the mend with the whole pneumonia thing. It kicked my *ss more than I thought it should/could. I just completed my 6th day in a row (running) and maxed out at 6 miles. This past week has been up and down, with one day being a solid 5 miles and the next would be a “hacking” 4 miler. I guess it’s all part of the recovery process…I say “I guess” because I’ve never had this before, so it is basically a “day-by-day” experience.
It can be frustrating, as I am constantly thinking that 3+ weeks ago I was cruising through 20 miles on the way to 26.2 and now I can’t even think about 10 miles. Ya’ see, after last year’s marathon, I was already back at 50 miles a week and feeling really good about it….and so it goes…”what a difference a year makes.”
So now it has to all about patience…my friend Eric (the pilot) keeps reminding me that we are 21 weeks (?) away from Boston and yet I have to be patient and take it day by day. That is soooo not me. I’m Larry “F’n” Glazer and if I want to run 12 miles tomorrow, I should be able to. But right now…healing up is the first priority…otherwise Boston may never see the light of day. Honestly, I am not even into doing it. I really wanna’ run it to be with my friends and teammates (who qualified) that I ran with when I was doing the whole Intercollegiate thing. It will be nearly 30 years since we first toed the line together and here we are all qualified for Boston. So that is my motivation right now…to get back into shape in order to be a part of something as special as this….
Now, I have to clear my lungs and heal a chronic achilles tendon that is taking upwards of 3 miles before it eases (numbs) up. My concern is how I will be able to put the mileage needed onto the achilles when it just refuses to cooperate. I was recently chatting with my buddy Charles (Ironman) and we both notice how aches and pains take longer to heal these days and the chronic ones…well, they never seem to subside. I’ve had this achilles deal for a decade…going back to when I used to train with Gerry during our lunch hour (2 hours) in CT. Talk about a great gig…we would run the beaches at Westport, CT…it was a great time and a fun gig. Oh, and as I babble here…Charles’s wife Julie has also qualified for Boston, so that’s another buddy from college who will be in Boston.
The more I write, it does seem like a “once in lifetime” event. All these friends (from WI, IA, KY, Sag Harbour) together for…no wait…why do we have to run a marathon to get together. I’d much rather go to a resort and drink “day-glow colored frozen concoctions” than run a marathon. Maybe in a few weeks, I’ll start to feel better about this whole thing, but until then, I’m just going to take it “one day at a time” and prepare myself for “starting over.”
See you on the roads….hopefully
Hangin’ In Here…
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Remember how I’ve said in the past that I totally dig FB ’cause I get to see all the “dip-shites” and anti-semites (that were cruel to me) that are soooo out of shape that I actually smile in the morning. Plus, I don’t have to send money anymore to those “Tammy Faye Ministries” praying for painful injuries to them….it’s been a win-win situation for me! Thank you FB. But since that 26.2 race, my own health was “sucking wind” literally…and an old friend Jamie mentioned “did you go to the doc yet?”
I had it all planned…wait a day…say yes…but I knew she would know I didn’t go…don’t ask me how…she would know. She’s married and she know’s how guys don’t go to doctors and certainly don’t use road maps (in front of women). With the Garmin’s, now it seems safe for guys to let down their guard and take directions…GUYS…IT’S STILL A MAP!! I am sure a women is sitting at the head of Garmin smiling…..they have outwitted us again!!
So, yesterday I was staying home and coughing like a 2 pack a day kinda guy. It’s the kind of cough that I wanted to hang a cigarette off the side and play the part….oh yeah, my side-kick Samara was home as she was under the weather as well. It was gonna be good, The Sponge Bob Movie for the 10th time, bonding with my daughter. When we’re together, we can talk about anything and I encourage her to ask away until we get to the development of “boobs” and why boys don’t “get them” or something along that line and then I realize time is short and these are moments that are to be cherished indeed. BTW, my answer of “they would never go to school or to work” fortunately falls on deaf ears.
But by 8am, work was calling, frantic as the DataBase Server was down. That’s great…I told them I could not come in 101+ fever. They were fine with me coming in. The DB was more important (apparently) than the health of the other employees or patients. DID YOU THINK I FORGOT ABOUT JAMIE? Ya’ see my doctor is a block away from work…ahhhh, make appointment and see my UK speaking doctor.
It wasn’t until I was at work and trying to move around that I realized how exhausted I was. Of course I jump started the DB Server. To bore you, it’s an older FileMaker 6 Server. Anyway, Samara made some new friends and then we were off to the doctor. When I’m in the waiting room, I feel like I’m waiting for The Late Show Curtain to open. The anticipation….and there…in his Welsh glory is my doctor….and he has grown the same beard as me…clearly to impress me…
I tell him I’m not sure if I have the Flu…RED FLAG, SIRENS, FLASHING LIGHTS…he immediately brings me to another room and we both have to wear masks…Samara is over playing with the scale (no mask), so to me it’s all BS. He checks my breathing and then tells me he wants to swab my my nostrils. ”Daddy, maybe he’ll pick a winner.” Lesson: Be careful what you teach your kids. …well, he should of said, he wanted to swab the back of my eyeballs as that is what it felt like. It wasn’t painful, but I could tell, I was not going to be moving from that position…he had full control of me with just a swab. So, after he was done, he gave me my sample and wrote some scripts…told me to head to NYU hospital to drop off my “snot” (not his words) and to get a chest x-ray as he thought I might have pneumonia.
Yeah right…I know the routine…more money wasted…. Samara was a champ and was excited to go to the x-ray facility at NYU. It was like a field trip for her, as that was how I tried to present it…I would have been bored, but she loved it and saw the X-Rays come up on the computer as they were being taken. We then dropped off my “nose goblins” and then I explained to Samara that 6 years ago was the happiest day of my life. ”Why daddy?” Because, you were born here 
It was one of those special moments that I will always remember where I was when I told her…priceless…
As of today, I do have pneumonia, according to the “Tom Jones” of doctors. Still waiting on the Flu (nasal) results. Go figure…I workout, take good care of myself, only recently went back to Pop Tarts and I have pneumonia?? Ummm, I can think of a whole bunch that should have it….who knows, maybe all the anti-bacterial stuff didn’t work…well, clearly it didn’t…just gotta ride this out and look forward to getting back to running…
See you in the doctors office….thanks again Jamie….
Under The Weather
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My Lungs
I’m just gonna check in real quick here to let you know I intend to write again. I’ve been really sick the last several days with a fever peaking out at nearly 102 yesterday. I’ve been coughing up stuff like I was “back on the bong.” …and that’s something I will never understand about pot. It makes you cough so intensely, and yet the user will always say “good sh*t.” I would think if it was smooth and didn’t make you cough, then it would be “good sh*t??” In other words, when coke is good, it doesn’t hurt your nose and cause it to bleed. …and I’ve always had trouble with anyone telling me something was good with the word “sh*t” immediately following it. But I digress…
So, at some point I will address my feelings about Boston. Right now, my heart is not in it. I am not sure how intensely I will train for it. I spoke with a young, up-and-coming teammate, Kevin and he mentioned something that’s been on my mind for some time and that is the half marathon. It’s all about recovering and the half allows you to do that.
I also believe NYC lowered my immune system, which made me susceptible to getting sick. I just don’t like feeling like this. Remember, I was washing my hands and using that hand sanitizer stuff at every moment and yet I am more sick today than I can remember….absolutely frustrating.
Anyway, I’ve gotta hit the showers….yesterday was a perfect example of how a fever effects you. I was in there for over a half hour. I was daydreaming….I was thinking how annoyed I was that work actually called me on Friday and had me get up from a sound sleep to help them with a support issue…I stepped out of the shower and realized, I had not shampooed, lathered….nothing….I just stood there for the 30+ minutes…I had to go back in. It was being “back on the bong.”…stoned.
Tags: NYC Marathon
Dealing With PMS
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I’m not sure if you can relate…but there is a reason you have not heard from me in a week. I did force myself not to run for 8 days…today in fact was the first day back running. Five miles was enjoyable, but it was more tiring than I expected. However, I am just happy to be out again. The reason is this is about Post Marathon Stress…honestly it’s a nice way of packaging what many experience and I certainly do and refer to as Post Marathon Depression.
Now please understand, I am not going to go postal like some idiot in Texas because he had a bad day. I just get real quiet and folks don’t hear from me for a while. No white powder and reservations at the Betty Ford clinic…that is reserved for when I win the lottery!! But, my problems are my problem. I am open and honest about them and are willing to discuss them, especially if it can help out another individual or prevent them from having to crawl into my foxhole, but I know only I can work through my problems, including not running as well as I wanted to, and then having to deal with the post depression.
Although alcohol has not tasted very good at all (except for whiskey), Wednesday I managed to hammer 12-14 drinks into me including some high end Irish whiskey and Scotch. To me, it was indicative of how I was feeling….although I didn’t really want to drink, I knew I wanted to escape the feeling I was feeling…and that was the feeling of coming up short. I worry that I will be like this with Samara if she sticks with gymnastics or any other sport…NOOoooo, I’m not gonna toss 14 drinks down her throat, but I worry about turning into Andre Agassi’s father. What I don’t get is I am tough on myself and yet I want my father to appreciate what I’ve accomplished…there are very few sub 3 hour marathoners that have also run sub 4:30 for the mile and yet that ain’t good enough for me….all I can think about is 3:02 from last Sunday.
Last week I felt like (there’s that like word again) I could understand a new mom being depressed after giving birth. This is not on the same level, but you have to understand that 5 months are put into getting ready for this event. You want it to be perfect….and whether it is or not, it is over after a 3 hour labor and what is left? …just a commemorative medal and countless replays over and over in your head. Even after last year’s successful race, I felt “blue” although I wasn’t sure because I had much turmoil surrounding me heading into the race. I still don’t know how I was able to run so well last year. But this year, my head was clearer, thus I was/am much more aware of the down feeling.
One of the toughest nights was Saturday night. True, I went to dinner with my parents, and that is challenging beyond the average standards. But two young ladies I’ve trained and train with threw what seems like their annual post marathon gala. I mean, they really know how to put on a party, organize, etc. Rina and Lindsay really put on a great event and just like last year, I could not figure out how to get into the moment. I could’ve received Best Male Supporting Actress. I think I even faked an orgasm, and no one knew. It’s part of “never let them see you sweat,” or maybe it’s all part of the healing process. I didn’t even get drunk…I usually save that to do by myself. I wouldn’t want anyone to see me all messed up…crazy as it sounds…cause the whole PMS thing seems messed up…
So, I don’t know what else to say…nothing really to say….except I hope some can understand what this is and perhaps if I “snubbed” some at the party on Saturday, you certainly now know why.
My friend Eric…the corporate pilot from Sag Harbor and roommate of mine from college…btw, he flies the owner of an NFL team…how lucky am I that it ain’t the Eagles or the Cowboys?!?! Anyway, he and a few others from college qualified for the Boston Marathon….he’s been a solid shoulder and an absolute pain in the nads by asking me every few days if I “signed up?” Well, last night I signed up. Now, I am just waiting for the formalities of The Boston Athletic Association to accept me into this “so called” prestigious event…..I mean it’s in Boston, how prestigious can it be??
So this is it…I am done with being down…I am lacing up and hitting the roads. I don’t have any goals yet, except to feel better and to be better….although a 2:55 might put a smile on my face
See you in the bars and on the roads….
Thanks Eric, Laura, Lara, Samara, Rina, Lindsay, Gerson, Mikey and everyone else…..
Tags: NYC Marathon
The Agony of The Feet
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My Friend For 16
Not sure where to start with this. This is the marathon recap. Do I start with the end and work my way back or do I just go in chronological order? Well, you know as well as I know I do this totally “on the fly (girl)” so whatever happens…happens. Plus I have a big bottle of Sam Adams “Octoberfest,” so it’s just a matter of time before I am naked (Nooooooooo) and writing. I mean who came up with this idea of a 22 oz. beer? As if 12 oz wasn’t good enough to get you buzzed, here’s an extra 10 oz to get you hammered.
So much happened over the last day or so. First off, Adam came in and stayed overnight just like last year, which was exactly the way I needed it. Remember I had a great race (2:58) and now I was gonna’ try and knock off 8 minutes from that time. Adam brought over his wheat pasta. I literally start to crap like a thoroughbred when I look at wheat pasta. Now all I had to do was run like a thoroughbred. Sounds simple enough. We had a nice meal…oh yeah, I pretended like I knew what I was doing with the top part of the stove….ya’ know the part that has the burners on it…is that still the stove?? I don’t know…I was clanging the pot against the stove “thing” to make it seem as though I was a cook. I’m sure Adam saw right through my inability in the kitchen. He’s great in that he is polite and goes right along with allowing me to think I am a cook. Thanks Adam….
We went through our uniform set-ups, shoes, etc. Gerson reminded us to bring toss away running shoes and to change into our racing shoes at the starting line as the grass where we would be warming up would be wet. To change into our racing shoes early would leave us with wet shoes for the start of the race. With everything situated, we decided to go to sleep early as with the clocks being turned back, we might be able to get 7 hours of sleep, which is unheard of on marathon eve.
So off we went…I even woke up in the night to pee as that is a good sign…I knew I was hydrated…all systems go! A few more hours and “Last Man Standing” by Bon Jovi woke me up from my IPhone. A quick shower to wake up and for breakfast it was oatmeal and frozen French Toast. Yep, I can even cook international cuisine as French Toast is different than the American Toast. I tossed those frozen concoctions into the toaster and 2 minutes later, I was carbo-loading and drowning in syrup.
Fast forward…Adam and I hit the 6:30 Staten Island Ferry and arrived at Fort Wadsworth at 7:30 after a nauseating bus ride from the Ferry Terminal to the Marathon Site. Everything feels right. Adam and I are sweating profusely from the bus ride, but we are taking in all the sights. We take in the amounts of security, the amounts of international folks….oh let’s get into that. Adam has to use the big boys room so we stop at a porta potty as we are walking to our areas. HELLOOOOOO International folks…..the lock on the porta potty is for YOU TO LOCK IT!!!!!! Adam had a not so nice greeting as he opened what he thought was an empty porta potty. I suggested he see an ophthalmologist as I think he may have damaged his retinas. So, do you think the guy would have locked the potty??? No, he still didn’t lock it. He finished, then came out. I was ready to take down his bib number to have him disqualified for lack of common sense. I can’t have that type running with me. Adam walked with me to the local elite area and….wished each other well…and parted ways.
Here I was…the place I earned…the place I worked so hard to get to….the place that came with free Power Bars….the place with the preferred start….and I could care less….there is front of me was my own porta-potty. I was ready to cry from the emotion. I had made it! I had a place to sit! Rather than go into the details, let’s just leave it as I “evacuated the troops,” “dropped a deuce,” “cut some cable like a Con Ed worker,” I mean….you can’t get to mile 14 and have this kind of thing knocking at the back door….makes sense?? We’re all on the same page??
Moving right along….I felt the need to lead my posse…wow look at me all street-like with my lingo. I’m like that talentless guy that rips off rifs from every successful artist and packages it as his own…what’s his name?? Oh yeah, I’m Puff Daddy…no wait, I’m Puffy….hang on, I think I’m P.Diddy….what’s that I’m Sean Combs??…Ok, I’ll go with that…what…that’s not right either…today he or rather I am Sean Puffy Combs?? Or Sean Jean…listen up…whatever he is…he is the musical equivalent of The Pet Rock!!!! If you own his stuff, don’t blame me…you bought into the sham!
So my posse is Mikey, Emily and Gerson. You guys know, I’ve created a bond with these guys/gal that is like an older brother/teammate. First off I have two of the coolest younger brothers that keep me young, fast and hungry to be fast….and I have the nicest sister I never had and she keeps me hungry to be fast as well…so off we went to our preferred start and our corral. I noticed immediately that there were folks that were not “local elite” in front of us in the coral.
Listen, I am not an elitest, although I prefer the Gulfstream over the LearJet, but that’s as far as I go when it comes to that kind of stuff. However these guys earned a spot in front and I was gonna get them to the front. I knew I was gonna pee, so I said I was heading up to get us a spot, pee, strip down. I leaned a new term…”pop-a-squat.” Who says you are too old. It’s when a female has to go #1. Thanks sis.
I could not believe how many non-local-elite were crowding the starting line trying to get a better start. Okay the F-bomb was being used more than I can remember as I was yelling at these internationals “you have not earned this spot…get the F outta here.” I never said I was gonna be a diplomat. Finally the person controlling the starting line came over to check out the commotion. I told him “they didn’t earn the spot, we did….add in a few F’s.” Fortunately Gerson pointed out our number and we were escorted into the front row. ”I meant what he said,” was all I could muster. I was ready to rock or at the very least toss a few 100 international runners off of the Verreazano Bridge.
Blah blah blah…speeches….Mayor Bloomberg…thank you Mike….Mary Witlessberg….same speech as last year Mary….this race is $180.00…I think you can do better than to recycle an old speech…and yes, I am willing to give next years speech. It’s about teaching foreigners to lock porta potty doors and to stay in the correct coral!!!!
BOOOOOOM….that’s my attempt at a cannon sound….and away we go. Gerson and Emily are going together…Mikey and I are together. My concern is containing my young buck. He has more energy than TT Boy in his early days….I mean this guy is a dynamo. He runs 10 meters in front of me no matter what. Add a leash and it looks as though he is walking me….Mikey is concerned we are slow on mile one which is uphill on the bridge. I promise him we will be on time. With precision, I nail it….same thing with the fast downhill mile 2. We are ahead, but not too bad.
I look over at Gerson at Emily….I am already proud! It’s hard to explain what I am feeling. I’ve never felt this before. It’s always been about me as I usually race solo. I told Gerson months ago, if all you (all 3) beat me, it would be the happiest day for me…assuming I ran a decent day and so did they. To see them in full stride, flowing down the Verrazano Bridge was a sight to see….trust me…it was as sweet as watching the elite Kenyans.
We cruised through Brooklyn…up Fourth Avenue. I know you want to hear more about me…so presumptuous….at the 5k mark (20 and change), I developed a “stitch.” I tried to take water at the 2+ mile mark, which was not planned. I mentioned I have a drinking problem…half of it wound up on my gloves, leaving me cold. Some made it into my mouth, along with gulps of air….SUX!!! Who cares, I can gut this type of stuff out. Mikey was chatty and I explained I could not talk because of it…I wanted him to know that I was not annoyed at him…I just could not talk…I had to “clear” this cramp.
Okay, for me…here is one of my favorite moments…I saw a sign for Adam at Atlantic Avenue and I knew it was for my buddy Adam….there was Carly, his mom and his dad….remember his dad is my idol…the one that made my childhood so happy with his music. I was able to touch one or two of them (don’t know who) and was happy that Adam would be seeing that soon. This is mile 8.
As we headed to mile 10, I felt a burning sensation….hey…not gonorrhea…but what I knew was themstart of a blister. Rather than get negative, I welcomed it and made it my friend as I knew I would have him for 16 miles. I knew I had to adjust my stride….by the way, these are things many folks don’t realize…just when all is right….you have to deal with adversity. I am blister prone as a forefoot runner, but the adjustment felt fine. However I noticed I dropped back a few meters off of Mikey. This was a concern. I had been tucking in on Mikey and he was happy to do it….I could not ask more of a partner…except…perhaps he be a female, but that’s entirely another story….anyway by mile 11, I saw I was not going to stay with him with this new foot-strike.
I kinda’ knew 2:50 was probably not gonna’ happen as everything had to be perfect, but I was okay with dropping off a couple of minutes. Keith Pepper came in out of the crowd. If he were Lee Harvey Oswald, I was a dead man as he on me so fast…hey where is my protection?!?!?!? Oh yeah, this is only local elite not elite. I actually dropped the side “stitch” while running with Keith…oh yeah…remember Keith is the guy from the “Pep Shop Boys” and “Salt and Pepper.” Ladies…trust me on this…he is ripped, fast and single. Keith led me to my coach Todd, who had my fluids bottle….22 oz of steroids, amphetamines, ….just seeing is you were paying attention….strictly Gatorade Endurance. I felt great, other than my new blister friend.
My next fluid stop would be mile 18….all that was left was to focus, run, deal with the 59th bridge and make my way up 1st Avenue. I downed all 22 oz that Todd gave me and I was up and over the 59th St. Bridge. I was concerned with my pace as I felt it should have been faster….no time to stress as I felt good.
First Avenue is loud. I wear my cap low like Andy Petite and try to drown out the crowd the same way Andy does. I think it is something that has always made me tough as a runner. I can either use the crowd to my benefit or if I want to shut them off I can do that as well. Yesterday, I used them and heard more people that I ever thought. I was really touched by the amount of people that called out my name. Some I saw and I usually bring my hand to my lips to signal to them….others I could not look at and just heard them. My friend John came in from NJ and still amazed me that he is willing to do this….I can’t get anyone from my family to do this, and yet he does it without me asking…he is a special guy. I saw Lara and it was great. as well as Samara!!
Unfortunately folks, you can turn off the program at this point as this is where the shite hits the fan. At mile 18 was where I was supposed to get my final liquids/fuel and I did not see them nor did they see me. This is where you run the risk of the “wall.”
Honestly, I recall thinking to my imaginary blister friend….”what do we do now?” ”You decide” ”No You!” Again, for the layman, in the marathon you start to get giddy, almost delirious, you don’t think clearly and time is not accurate. What feels like 30 seconds may only be 5 seconds. So I’m freaking out and trying to decide whether to stop at water tables to hydrate, knowing that will surely slow me up or to try and hang on for a personal best as 2:54 is out of the window. But I may be able to still get under 2:58. I have not had a drink since mile 12….I rationalize….I went from July without alcohol, surely I can do this without water….the mind does crazy things in the marathon…
Folks, ohhh, let me say it was great seeing Rina, Nadine and others at the First Avenue Bridge. The reason I say others is because I was in deep shite and I could not take in who was there….I was really scared at this point as I was heading into the Bronx…Okay, maybe I was scared because it was the South Bronx, but it’s more because I was confused with my dilemma.
So, I decided after I passed Alex in the Bronx to continue without liquids and to try to finish without slowing up for the tables. Maybe I could hang on for the last 5 miles and still PR?? I still had 5th Avenue to climb and I felt my energy meter draining like a glitch in a video game.
Sure enough 5th Avenue came and as hard as I tried with 3 miles to go, I could not lift. I was dropping to 8 minute pace. It hurt emotionally, but there wasn’t a thing I could do. The damage was done. The brightest moment came when Emily passed by me with 2+ miles to go. She looked great. So strong…how I wanted to join her as I knew she was going under 3 hours. But this was not going to happen. I needed to be concerned at his point with my muscles cramping up as dehydration was setting in. As I headed into Central Park, Gerson came by and this is another of those highlights. Gerson had an opportunity to go under 3 hours and he was determined to jump start my engines. Three Red Bulls and my favorite Filipino could not have jump started me at this point. I literally had to order him to move on down Cat Hill without me. I knew I was going to finish, but my 2:50 was gone, my PR was gone, my sub 3 hour was gone….this was about not giving in. My teammates were already giving me a smile….and it was up Central Park West, back into Central Park for the final 400+ meters to Tavern….and there was Gerson waiting for me with a hearty handshake and a hug. He even took the time to hydrate me as I was not ready for prime time.
He had PR’d….so did Emily and Mikey ran the 2:50 (PR) we set out to do….I was sooooo disappointed in my choices, decisions, lack of back-up plan for hydration and yet I had these 3 that I trained with all nail it! I could not be more proud of them.
What’s next?? Perhaps Boston in April….for now….
….See you in the bars!
Let It Rock
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I’m about to write a blog and the I.T. question for me today was “do you think there are aliens?” First off, when Larry is working on his blog, he does not like to be interrupted…I mean I’m working here! It’s not like I was napping. Yes, I will be doing that after the blog, but for now, I am technically working! Oh, my answer…you ask?? Of course there are aliens…we are clearly a science project for some high school/college alien on another planet. The project went bad and this is what happened. Let’s assume he/she/it did not receive a passing grade.
The title of the blog….yes another Bon Jovi song. No, I’m not in love with him…ok, maybe a little…a little more…more…right about there. I just spoke with my buddy Joe from high school yesterday. There wasn’t a mailbox in Central Jersey that was safe when we were together. I mean I was smaller than you in high school, but my car was bigger…get it?
Anyway, Joe was best friends with Jon growing up. Every time I was out with Jon, we spoke about Joe with Jon asking for Joe to contact him. Sooooo, I am hoping Joe contacts him this time and they reunite. Nick, make sure dad calls him!
Okay, 2 days left and I can say Coach Todd has done everything correct to prepare me. I could not ask for anything more. Well, I could, but that would probably involve a late night club, lots of leather, rubber, but this blog would have to be re-titled: “Let It Flog” or something along those lines.
Anyway Coach Todd had me taper and as nervous as I was 2 weeks ago about not feeling ready…well, I am still feeling nervous, but I am know I am ready. The nerves are normal. I remember skydiving and the jump-master said if you weren’t nervous, then there was something wrong with you. I think you can apply the same theory to the marathon. If you are not the least bit worried, then you must be planning on taking the subway in Long Island City.
So I went to the Expo with Adam and C. We were there for hours going to so many booths and melting credit cards on commemorative items. I picked up a shirt for Samara which she proudly wore to school today. I wanted to shed a tear, but like I said, I haven’t been able to cry since the last NYC Marathon. I was really proud to see her proud. Oh yeah, I picked up another Phiten titanium bracelet. The sales person thought I was a spokesperson as I had more product on than Joba Chamberlain. I promised Adam if he purchased a necklace, he would “fly.” I don’t even get paid for this!
Cara was working the Sugoi booth and this was an important stop. Yes, Adam needed arm warmers, but for me, Cara has this gentle way of calming you. She was vital to me breaking three hours last year when everything was crumbling. So just stopping by to say hi and to have her chat for a few moments was pretty key in my mental preparation.
All that’s left is to lay out all my shite…drinks, food, Gu (no jokes please), uniform. I will pin on the number and put the chip or thingie on my Nike Lunar racing flat. Of course I will try on the full uniform and get pumped up. I need to make sure everything feels right.
Tonight will be the last key night of sleep. Saturday night is pointless as waking up at 4am (the latest) on Sunday means minimal sleep. Thus, it is even more important to get sleep tonight. It’s now or never. Saturday, which is Halloween will be tough as I will want to accompany Samara to an annual party, but I don’t want to be standing for too long, so I may have to miss out this year. 
…And that’s it. Everything is in. The only thing to do is put out. Wow, I sound like a 17 year old on like date #2 with “what’s her name?” But it’s really that simple. Get out there on Sunday and run….run hard, but run.
See you Sunday!!!
Two more things “Keep the Faith” and “Let it Rock.”
Tags: NYC Marathon
Living On The “Knife Edge”
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The title says it all. It is what Coach Todd used to describe what the entire race will be for me. Oh before I get into the explanation of what Todd meant, it triggered “Knife Edge” by The Alarm.” to play. It’s like I have this Ipod in my head. I’ve had it since I was like 3 years old, playing Beatles songs and “Yummy Yummy,” “1-2-3-Green Light,” etc. while I rode my “trikey,” so technically I invented the Ipod. Anyway, the Alarm were always considered a poor mans U2 or a U2 “knock-off.”….t’aint-so…yes, they warmed up U2 on the War tour, but they’ve always been their own band…Soooooo, with “Knife Edge” looping on my mental Ipod……
…….The race is basically gonna be about a balancing act for hopefully less than 3 hours….there isn’t any room for a single error. I can’t miss taking liquids if it is hot. I can’t be too slow at the half marathon mark. I can’t be too fast at the half marathon mark. I can’t pull over for a bathroom stop. Some have asked what happens if I have to much Gatorade in me and have to use the bathroom? Well, let’s be open and honest…I knew last year I was going to try it in full stride. Yes, I pull my shorts slightly down or to the side (no pictures please) and slow down just a bit…but other than that, I figured out I lost 10 seconds instead of probably at least a minute from stopping. I got the idea from all the women who stop on the 59th St Bridge and pull to the side to “Just Do It.” As I said last writing, women are smarter. However, that doesn’t mean I can’t take their idea and perfect it. Just because they have to stop, does not mean I have to….and there you have it. No, I am not teaching a class in it yet, but I guarantee I could. If only I could get hand sanitizer handed to me at mile 16!
The pace is basically 6:29 per mile…not a big deal for 18 miles….”been there, done it (cliche’ BS),” but in the 18 mile race, I made several errors (you may recall) with my pace, but I was able to hang on. Sunday, I will not have that option. If I make that same error at mile 1 again and it is game over….except I have 25.2 miles to try and hang on, knowing it is gonna’ hit me…like it or not.
I do have some good news…my training partner Mikey, Mike, Michael, half of the “M&M duo” made it into the “local elite!” We are both shooting for the same time, give or take, so we will be able to run together. I had been mentally preparing to run solo, which is the way I run most races, but if we can both get to mile 20 together, it could make for a great day for both of us. I am not teaching him how to “go” when we are on the 59th St. Bridge.
Thursday, my buddy Adam is coming in and we’re heading over to the expo together. He is staying over the night before the race, just like last year and hitting the ferry over to Staten Island. We went to the expo when it opened last year as well. Okay, so maybe we are a little superstitious.
I will try figure out my splits and post them here and on FB in case anyone wants to “see me, cheer me, whack me, etc.” as it will have the time day I will pass that particular mile marker. In the meantime, keep thinking positive, keep eating, let the taper build and begin to make NYC your city!
Okay that last part about “begin to make NYC your city” was almost as bad as a lame Delta commercial from the 70’s. This event makes you all weird….next thing you know, I’ll be offering to work extra hours or something insane like that!
See you on Sunday!
Tags: Ipod, NYC Marathon
Keep The Faith
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Keep The Faith
So…like that’s been my mantra throughout this training period. I use “Keep The Faith” often and JBJ music a lot as Jon is just a regular guy who has taken what he does to the top. But deep down, he is just a guy from Sayreville, NJ. Sure, people love to get down on him…I guess it’s his fault for being good looking and having a knack for writing and playing hit songs. Certainly being marketed during the “hair band era” helped skyrocket him, but he will always receive backlash for it….definitely not his fault. I remember riding home every week with the president of a large record label and he said it best. There are very few songwriters that have the same ability as a Lennon/McCartney or a Leiber/Stoller….Bon Jovi/Sambora are as close as you can get in the modern rock era.
Okay, so there is your music lesson for the day. If you ever see this written in a book, it better be in mine as I am not giving anyone who reads this any permission to use this personal story for their own financial gain. Many of my “schmooozic” business stories are personal and if I can find the right partners to put it to paper, ohhhhh, the stories we could tell.
So, in my training saga, we last left off with me feeling tired. You start to lose faith with less than two weeks to go. The one thing I’ve had throughout this journey is faith and trust in coach Todd and the other coaches at UA. It’s easy to question yourself and your own body, but it’s so important to Keep The Faith in your coach and the personal program he has created for you. This is what has sustained me through the rough times during the training, especially the last 2 weeks.
Tuesday night was a planned 5×1200 meter workout with a 1 minute rest between each interval. The interval was at “cruise” pace. That equates to 80% effort and should feel comfortable. The challenge is the minimal rest. During the marathon, you are not running at 100% effort. It is the lack of rest, or the attempt to sustain the effort for such a length of time that makes it so difficult.
I was still not feeling well heading into the workout. A part of me was hoping for Coach Todd to tell me to stay home. I even wrote him telling him I felt like “poo.” Yep, it all goes back to sex and bodily functions… But Todd knows me as an athlete and had me out there. It was the right decision based on knowing me and my ability, both mentally and physically.
I was smart and knew to run with Emily. She has a great sense of pace and the most important thing is I recognize she never makes a critical mistake in a workout by going out too fast and perhaps throwing off the rest of the workout. I’m a guy (some might debate that) and guys will always mess up a workout…it’s in their nature. We will always be cavemen trying to outdo ourselves or out duel someone else. I don’t see that with Emily and with a higher percentage of female athletes….so, yes, in this instance, women are smarter…hmmm…or is Larry just saying that to sound like a nice guy so that women will think he’s “cool, hip, down, phat, as well as other pointless words??? I don’t know…and why am I answering my own questions??
So I totally hung with Emily and she basically led me through a perfect workout, that we nailed. I was pleased to feel good afterwards and even the next morning I had a good recovery run. Since then, I have had a good bounce to my stride and and my breathing has been better. Could this taper thing be working? I’m starting to feel as though it is. I feel stronger physically and mentally.
I’m trying not to get too excited as we are still a week+ away from race-day, but I am much more optimistic than I was 2 weeks ago, one week ago, and even 4 days ago. It’s about running smart, believing in yourself, listening to what some really nice friends on FB have to say in support, trusting your coach 100% and to always “Keep The Faith.”
Tags: NYC Marathon
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