tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19497773899837640622024-03-12T22:04:26.334-04:00I eat miles for breakfastrunjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.comBlogger77125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-59152605749391914912015-06-16T23:33:00.000-04:002015-06-17T14:59:10.788-04:00Comrades: Race Day<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The Comrades Marathon. Yes, <i>marathon</i>. Many of the marathoners I know would be annoyed by a race being called a marathon when it wasn't actually 26.21875 miles in length. This would be especially true for races that were shorter than this official and implicit length. Here in South Africa, they toss the label around, applying it to all sorts of distances. <a href="http://www.legendsmarathon.co.za/" target="_blank">Legends Marathon</a> is 42ish miles long while <a href="http://www.twooceansmarathon.org.za/" target="_blank">Two Oceans Marathon</a> is about 35 miles. <a href="http://big-five-marathon.com/" target="_blank">Big Five Marathon</a> happens to be 26.2 miles, which they call a <i>classic distance </i>event. But on this day, I was running the 54.5 mile Comrades Marathon.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0YGxF0Wan1R78994ihSqbwd5GD-GwYvFo8YmQT3NgolsRkQ8HFrbey8eXohUL9U2KsQv_bvBhwK2Swtxylw28UG66EMEknsrSgCvvY7HjdrqSLy5-gP9N76YHCMvz_aa-ZVwrC9Jtr_-m/s1600/11030721_10152570314266685_4723264859372672424_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0YGxF0Wan1R78994ihSqbwd5GD-GwYvFo8YmQT3NgolsRkQ8HFrbey8eXohUL9U2KsQv_bvBhwK2Swtxylw28UG66EMEknsrSgCvvY7HjdrqSLy5-gP9N76YHCMvz_aa-ZVwrC9Jtr_-m/s640/11030721_10152570314266685_4723264859372672424_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px; line-height: 17.9200000762939px;">Elevation profile, named hills, and landmarks</span></td></tr>
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I woke at 3:30am to start my usual
race morning ritual of breakfast, hydration top-off, and multi-pooping. By 4:20am I was ready for the 15 minute walk to the start. I exchanged a quick “goodbye, good
luck, hope to see you later” with Amanda. With a hired driver, she was going to attempt to second me (cheer and support me) on the course. Not knowing the area, her day was going to be more complicated than mine. As I exited the hotel, I watch as a small
Japanese contingent, dressed in fun costumes, posed for a photo in the parking
lot. <o:p></o:p>Runners were already trickling toward the start. The race would start at 5:30am.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJCu7VVmpE_0iDGmaXo6SfiVchDlGEmdA7ZIAqMyn_G-wejVL6aD2QuHatkZNtixTRhK7CP4Myto36E1qmJ73WRvBLVfWMc_OlPmCsE1zhFtm9ZLaVQEa1xWjitYOkEXDpkm6zzljSr9v-/s1600/comrades+start.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJCu7VVmpE_0iDGmaXo6SfiVchDlGEmdA7ZIAqMyn_G-wejVL6aD2QuHatkZNtixTRhK7CP4Myto36E1qmJ73WRvBLVfWMc_OlPmCsE1zhFtm9ZLaVQEa1xWjitYOkEXDpkm6zzljSr9v-/s640/comrades+start.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of https://twitter.com/ILuvDBN</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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23,000 runners were named on the official start list.
About 20,000 of them got out of bed and lined up at the start. As
far as events of this size go, this one was pretty darn relaxed. The corral cut off
time was 30 minutes prior to start. There were no bottlenecks and there was no shoving. The only issue
I saw was a low number of portapotties. I lined up and peed once, but then
immediately got in my corral rather than lining up to go again.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Many runners were sitting, patiently waiting for the race
to start. Others, like me, navigated
their way towards the front. I wanted to cross the start as soon as possible.
Official times of this race would be gun times, not net times like I’m used to. I was told I would clear the start for sure in under 10 minutes and wanted to squeeze all the minutes out that I could. I found a spot I was happy with and took in the sights. Thousands of smiling
runners filled the street, donning their colors- their running club singlets. I
read them to myself, happy that with a week in South Africa, I could recognize
some of the locales.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Someone called out to me. “Joel. Joel!” I turned to see
who it was. “Where is Brooklyn?” It was a tall Afrikaner from J’berg. He had
completed Comrades 17 times. I could tell all this from his accent, his colors,
and his bib. He knew my name from my bib and that it was my first run. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“New York!” I answered back and he nodded in approval.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Ah good! Welcome!” Around me runners smiled. <o:p></o:p></div>
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One dude gave me a fist bump/thumb snap. “This is how we
do it in South Africa!” His accent was of one of the nine official native
languages (plus English and Afrikaans makes eleven total) in the country. The announcer asked us to greet the person to our left. I
met a guy from Nelspruit, who was running his third. Then the official start
ceremony began. I can’t remember the exact order of things, but Chariots of
Fire was played along with the National Anthem, and Shosholoza.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Shosholoza is what stands out in my mind the most. The US
Commrades ambassador gave us a heads up that this would be played and everyone
would sing it. He was nice enough to share the lyrics, in Zulu, via the
newsletter ahead of time so that we could learn it (or attempt to learn it, as
I did). I later learned that is basically a pep rally motivational type song.
The kids at the Ethembeni School performed it for us on the course tour the day prior. As I tried to
sing along, I thought of them. It is their version that would ring in my head
for the whole race and the rest of my stay in SA.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Then the rooster crowed and the cannon fired and we were
off! It took only about a minute for me to clear the start line and immediately
the cheering began. I set an easy 9:30 pace, but not two miles in, I had to
pee. It seemed everyone did. Along with dozens of others, I pulled over as we climbed onto the
highway heading out of Durban and just as I was about to go, I heard, “Not
here! Not here! This is my home!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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A saw a man lying on cardboard, no doubt woken by this
stampede of peeing runners. My heart sank. I quickly took a few paces away from
his home, the concrete median of this particular on ramp, to relieve myself
clear of his spot. But I could hear him trying to fend off everyone else who didn’t
see him in the darkness. It was only 5:41 and the sun wouldn’t rise until 6:30
or so. His companion laughed as he carried on, “Not here! This is my home!” I
carried on, too, running away from that reality and into the hills.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOMLW-CTkZ8WsmxdCYwOeg_ptDjlEuzciTBIetDllT2nLBIie0ma4M6PU77778Vxbdwgghcsss3-pjKagrJlq29sEPNEgkPeMGQXzy21ahUO4Gce-_d0pBrR1BPsNuEL1IVVtBJfAhmtpj/s1600/comrades+start+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOMLW-CTkZ8WsmxdCYwOeg_ptDjlEuzciTBIetDllT2nLBIie0ma4M6PU77778Vxbdwgghcsss3-pjKagrJlq29sEPNEgkPeMGQXzy21ahUO4Gce-_d0pBrR1BPsNuEL1IVVtBJfAhmtpj/s640/comrades+start+1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first kilometer of Comrades. It would remain dark for another hour.</td></tr>
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Not before long, the climbs began and I had to decide what
my “easy” heart rate range would be. Just as quickly it was already past 160
bpm. During my long runs, I’ve been trying to keep my heart rate between 120
and 150. For a marathon, I let it rise to 170 for the first 18ish miles, then
just let it go. I wasn’t sure what to do here in this 54.5 mile up-mountain run.
Perhaps I would have preferred to stick to the 150 cap, maybe even a 160 cap,
but I allowed myself a 165 cap on the condition that it would only hit this on
hills and if I was riding 165 bpm for too long, I would walk. This seemed
reasonable to me.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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As the sun began to rise, the cheer crowds began to grow.
Many were out in support of their clubs and there were tons of running clubs.
Some that I remember are the Old Boys, A.C. Orlando, Westville, Cool Runnings, Born 2 Run A.C., Harmony Striders, and Impala Marathon Club. The club names were fun to read and probably fun to call out. The crowds were pretty amazing and vocal, reading off and cheering clubs and runners as they passed. I received tons of cheers for “Joel”, a whole
bunch of “Go Brooklyn!”, some “Brooklyn?” and even some “Go South Central!”.
Many recognized what Brooklyn was and cheered with, “America!” and “Well done,
Yank!”<o:p></o:p><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuOaWOqx0Z4CmZoex-B0rr8ceXZSTplWpOzaYINDM3ccWFwMaGCvvzpFNIMBGSYb6kzL2xqTiCHp1PN9SmGQysyKKpk_ohgOFUVoMsrnZilKyunbYZqIVMh965xgikCoGtzWybaE8-96cD/s1600/IMG_4364.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuOaWOqx0Z4CmZoex-B0rr8ceXZSTplWpOzaYINDM3ccWFwMaGCvvzpFNIMBGSYb6kzL2xqTiCHp1PN9SmGQysyKKpk_ohgOFUVoMsrnZilKyunbYZqIVMh965xgikCoGtzWybaE8-96cD/s640/IMG_4364.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some local club singlets</td></tr>
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I also got a lot of, “China! China!”, “Ching Chong!”, “Konichiwa!”
and other racist kung-fu-like cat calls. It was interesting to observe that
only the rural Black Africans did this. Perhaps I was a novelty to them; they probably only
knew the rural village they live in or what they see on TV. Or maybe I'm just trying make excuses for these few racist dicks. At one point I was tempted to stop running and school the
latest offender, but I didn’t. It’s not always as simple as that, I understand... and these
cases would surely take more than the couple seconds I was willing to
sacrifice. So I continued on running.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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The day was heating up, but all was going according to
plan. I was drinking and filling my water bottle regularly, though it took a
couple tries for me to get down a process. The water (and Energade) was given
out in plastic satchels rather than paper cups. Also, there didn’t always seem
to be a method to the madness of these aid stations. In fact, I couldn’t find
the fuel I was looking for. I wanted gels. I tried potatoes, but just didn’t
seem interested in them. The fuel bars were the same, which I ate first. I was
going through my Gus quickly and needed to find something to make up the 1,000
or so calories I didn’t have on me. I turned to bananas, potatoes (even if I
didn’t want them), and Energade.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I had been squirting water on myself all morning,
following the lead of the locals. Drink some, then squirt on head, back of
neck, then quads and calves. I added shoulders, front of neck, and wrists for
good measure. The temperature on the course peaked at 87 F according to my watch. We were doing this to cool off as efficiently as possible. My
body wouldn’t have to process the water I drank to create sweat- I was doing
this for it and doing it very regularly, all day. This didn’t please my
nipples, which started to tingle in the not-so-fun way. My sides and stomach
also started chafing. But thanks to volunteers with jars of Vaseline, it wasn’t
as bad as it could have been. I was able to lather up periodically as I ran.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh09m0PyQ-jK3K5C9zctb7zVcTXBf1efE93Cb-pRcfNpCTKUuh5Wr9E_0EX2t86KzKr_YU7-nOpx8QtCNd4ckDwGc5eDv6HPeY5e6FxlZx8zT1qCiq196ePCZgEDznstouvy0VDcyQha7kh/s1600/water+myself.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh09m0PyQ-jK3K5C9zctb7zVcTXBf1efE93Cb-pRcfNpCTKUuh5Wr9E_0EX2t86KzKr_YU7-nOpx8QtCNd4ckDwGc5eDv6HPeY5e6FxlZx8zT1qCiq196ePCZgEDznstouvy0VDcyQha7kh/s640/water+myself.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cool off ritual</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I passed Andrew’s Seat and saluted him with a tip of my
cap, running towards Drummond, the halfway point and where I would get my first
chance to see Amanda, if the logistics of her seconding (what South Africans
call supporting on course) worked out. And there she was, jumping and waiving
right before entering the center of town.
I stopped for a hug and kiss, happy to see she was able to make it. Anyone
we asked for advice told us seconding on this course was near impossible to do
and advised us not to try. We hired a car and driver for the day to take her
around and drag my lifeless body back to Durban at the end of the race. It
wasn’t cheap and there was no guarantee it would work. But that day, I saw
Amanda six(!) times and it was so worth it.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6IodjNOc1ArM46L8QkAVMUhQH0Qjh_3WGJuTq4mpbGnmXhYo9uOH11iicOn6HMSR4co0zZR9Vb_Yyvn3SafhY8mGqcZOuJJ4TsZoPi_3vjBWfEINOBE3uEpF0f3q9s8Hfms3Olxt5AWX9/s1600/IMG_4399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6IodjNOc1ArM46L8QkAVMUhQH0Qjh_3WGJuTq4mpbGnmXhYo9uOH11iicOn6HMSR4co0zZR9Vb_Yyvn3SafhY8mGqcZOuJJ4TsZoPi_3vjBWfEINOBE3uEpF0f3q9s8Hfms3Olxt5AWX9/s640/IMG_4399.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy to see Amanda. Shorts already crusted with salt from sweat.</td></tr>
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Halfway done. Just a marathon and a little bit to go. I
laughed at that thought. My legs were already achy by mile 18 or so. I wasn’t
sure if that was ok or not, but I was hoping they would feel fresh up until at
least 30 miles in. Oh well. The sub 9:00 bus (pace group) passed me about a
marathon in. I was hoping to keep them in my sights, but there pace was too much
and they seemed to be walking on a different schedule than me. Still, I wasn’t
giving up on my time goal.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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I couldn’t rely on my Garmin pacing exactly because it
was clocking just a bit off and this was going to be close. So I started
counting down from 42K (a marathon) and tried to do math in my head. At this
point, I think I needed to maintain around a 9:40 pace.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.ethembenischool.co.za/" target="_blank">The Ethembeni School</a> came up around this point and many
of the kids were out cheering. I veered over and collected as many high-fives
as I could. In fact, I had been doing that all morning and would be doing more
of the same all afternoon. I didn’t just PR in high fives that day, I destroyed
my previous tally which was probably about 30, done in the Boilermaker 15k in
2013. So many kids were out on the course, hand held out, and I was happy to
make that connection. I must have gotten hundreds. It was awesome.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHj1J9gDvw9tVQrEon6iZQeEP4-QvgiCf-xIFMnPdNLmIZMbSu5D4pbbigtCO9g57UX_EiyIukyiryFtzTUpzkGaIhXIaiNsBm3SbzKKNJznePtqUWeJMsBTxWbXxUBjcASuX_k4E_CU7Z/s1600/IMG_3597.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHj1J9gDvw9tVQrEon6iZQeEP4-QvgiCf-xIFMnPdNLmIZMbSu5D4pbbigtCO9g57UX_EiyIukyiryFtzTUpzkGaIhXIaiNsBm3SbzKKNJznePtqUWeJMsBTxWbXxUBjcASuX_k4E_CU7Z/s640/IMG_3597.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amanda with China, our driver, guide, photographer, and cheering companion. We were lucky to find him!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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At some point, my heart rate stopped climbing into the
160s. I was fatigued. So I stopped using my heart rate as a guide and started
using my legs, picking a pace that still felt practical and sustainable. Also
somewhere in this middle third of the race there were some actual flat
stretches where I could sustain a pace of around 8:20. This was good because
there were still some 12:00+ uphill miles in my future.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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The volunteers were amazing. Not just those organized by
Comrades, but the spectators as well. I grabbed my first potatoes from a local
church, some bananas, and saw so many people offering little packets of table
salt to runners hoping to fend off muscle cramps. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
So many runners succumbed to cramping and so many
volunteers were spraying down runner’s legs with anti-cramping stuff. I’ve
never seen anything like it in any other race. I must have seen hundreds of
runners getting treated along the course. As I passed the Comrades provided physio
services on the course, I had to look away. Dozens of runners in pain were being worked on. I was afraid even thinking about
cramps would allow them to manifest in my muscles.<o:p></o:p></div>
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With about 30K left, I ran out of salt tabs- all 27 of them. Wow. I had
been drinking a lot and frequently, chasing each bottle with three tabs. I was
amazed at how much I underestimated my hydration needs for the day. I still had
about three hours of running to do and it was hot. I started drinking the
Energade as my primary hydration only taking occasional sips of water, but
still squirting it all over me to cool down. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLbCenMtt3KEF0dX3MtrbYy_MeCTr0a3ybRB3wZKRU0Am6Kxe6XGPjXSi1lzY5agwRYXPXwb98C6F1HQA-ogPq4j-iI7HlFqBhc-Jk5wB7MbdxmzhH0rsQSn6onOrr5SLSk-iD21u8kiD/s1600/IMG_4422-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLbCenMtt3KEF0dX3MtrbYy_MeCTr0a3ybRB3wZKRU0Am6Kxe6XGPjXSi1lzY5agwRYXPXwb98C6F1HQA-ogPq4j-iI7HlFqBhc-Jk5wB7MbdxmzhH0rsQSn6onOrr5SLSk-iD21u8kiD/s640/IMG_4422-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As the road sign says, 21 KM (half marathon) to Pietermaritzburg</td></tr>
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At about the same point, I started noticing pain in my IT
band. The roads were often cambered and this was starting to have an effect.
With 21K (half marathon) left, the pain was substantial, and I needed 9:30
miles to go sub 9 hours. I developed a new mantra, “There is no pain... only Zuul” ...I was <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lg7MAacSPNM" target="_blank">Zuul</a>.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
With less than 15k and still needing 9:30s, I saw Amanda
on the course once again. I was pushing through the pain, reaching for that sub
nine finish, racking up some 8:20 downhill miles knowing that more hills were
in my path. Amanda ran with me for a bit, encouraging me. My legs were fried.
Could I hold on? Yeah, maybe... man it hurts, but just maybe I can... Then suddenly a realization hit me: I had to poop. Soon.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjViQuwNd2lDrkCcn-qe8IQ9h_RzjsU98rsiiT4z0ntsrxOLzzOxNWjm_1DEbJfG6EMoOfDvAor9eKactwHuny9mRgpt-3iDa-MiIhT5_JHPZO4RzWix_jV2Ue2k2vhqxA9RK0G8lXNw3iW/s1600/IMG_4442.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjViQuwNd2lDrkCcn-qe8IQ9h_RzjsU98rsiiT4z0ntsrxOLzzOxNWjm_1DEbJfG6EMoOfDvAor9eKactwHuny9mRgpt-3iDa-MiIhT5_JHPZO4RzWix_jV2Ue2k2vhqxA9RK0G8lXNw3iW/s640/IMG_4442.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Amanda accompanying me a bit, I was cruising.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
If I stopped to poop, that sub nine was surely going to
be out of reach. Could I hold it? Could I hold the line (my pace) and hold my
bowels? I decided no. At the base of Polly Shortts, the last named hill, I
stopped and waited in line for about five minutes for a portapotty to do my business. When I
emerged, my legs were done. I couldn’t get them going again. With 10K left, I
walk up that damn hill.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Walking was painful; running was more painful. I crested
the top of the hill, running, hoping my legs would warm up. I coasted downhill
as runners began passing me, doing about an 11:30 mile while running. My legs were toast. I carried on for maybe a kilometer, then walked for a bit. I
kept this up over the last stretch, not wanting to succumb to taking it easy and prolonging the finish,
but struggling to push through the pain of running.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
All throughout, other runners and the crowd supporters
continued to encourage everyone. I got a lot of “congrats!” and “almost there!”
cheers. Even though I was still miles away, the “almost there!” cheers felt
right. One person offered, “Brooklyn?! You’ve come too far not to finish now!
Well done!” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
With three kilometers left I spotted a runner stagger to a wall to brace himself with while he dropped his shorts and squatted. I looked away knowing what was coming, hearing an explosive poop happen. <i>That could have been me</i>, I thought, as I hobbled on by. If I were at all second guessing my stop at the portapotty, that gentleman and his movement cured me of that. I made the right call.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I ran the last kilometer or so, holding on long enough
for the excitement of the finish to take over. Amanda again was there to cheer
and snap one last pic. I waived as I
turned the corner and rounded into the final stretch. Finish line in sight, I
felt an overwhelming rush of emotion and held back tears. Just paces away, I
walked over the line, arms stretched out, with a big smile on my face.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUz5kfGS6oXxodZ2k-sqUOcuYQj0cGtliB-aXc8yw-aNIrWVEuvUilC3PdFFBt9hxSjdO42bSv5ZRQhw5X33O0yZQ8au9pJUGAZqE2IqfgQ0WvxfFKI3iNgNtCROi3A6UDsK_cS3ckd5nN/s1600/IMG_4475-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUz5kfGS6oXxodZ2k-sqUOcuYQj0cGtliB-aXc8yw-aNIrWVEuvUilC3PdFFBt9hxSjdO42bSv5ZRQhw5X33O0yZQ8au9pJUGAZqE2IqfgQ0WvxfFKI3iNgNtCROi3A6UDsK_cS3ckd5nN/s640/IMG_4475-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The last stretch to the finish.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b>Reflection: </b><br />
With better pacing I could have done it in under 9:00.
Also better nutrition, but not for lack of calories. Though my energy was good for the entire race and then
some (it was my legs that were fried), taking in so much of that Energade
doomed my bowels. I'm not sure how much of it I drank, but if I were to guess, I'd say at least 10 satchels. If I had carried more salt with me, I wouldn't have felt compelled to drink so many.<br />
<br />
I thought my plan was conservative, but not too conservative.
And it turns out it was too aggressive in the start. I think if I walked more
of the early hills, slowed up a bit, I would have had the juice to hold the
line. If you're curious, here's the <a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/795359564" target="_blank">Garmin data</a> (fyi, I forgot to turn the watch off after).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBN_sfpp4-0ourm-0J-FwoGLlXhmKt1Au8b-JnCvtEgH1dYA7b0LBRnwfuGox6drlqRK0wLJY82QPQ8w51ApnQM2B6_gIVhetDpuH3PhpYTzp2q-_23K-wrQX8DqqAfI3r0mtsEVPpe7HE/s1600/Comrades+splits.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBN_sfpp4-0ourm-0J-FwoGLlXhmKt1Au8b-JnCvtEgH1dYA7b0LBRnwfuGox6drlqRK0wLJY82QPQ8w51ApnQM2B6_gIVhetDpuH3PhpYTzp2q-_23K-wrQX8DqqAfI3r0mtsEVPpe7HE/s1600/Comrades+splits.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pooping happened with about 10k left</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It was my first ever event like this, and honestly, I’m not sure
anything really compares to it. It felt very inclusive- an event not just for die hard runners even though you'd think only die hards would take up this distance. The cut off time was extended an hour so the race could be more inclusive. The qualifying time of a 5 hour marathon is there simply to be sure you can finish the event by the 12 hour limit. Of the 20,000 that lined up, only 13,000 finished.<br />
<br />
The morning after, I listened to many runners tell their tale of where the sweeper bus picked them up. Still, they wore their Comrades race shirt proudly. One woman chatted us up at breakfast- over the years she had completed seven, though she started nine. I had originally put my medal on that morning, but soon took it off. It felt boastful. Too many had fallen short.<br />
<br />
In Comrades, it is an honor to be able to complete the race, but anyone who is brave enough to line up at the start, regardless of how the day goes, is considered a winner. This is a sentiment that isn't often emphasized in the races I've done. Maybe it's a cultural thing- South African vs American or ultra distance vs classic distance- or maybe it's a uniquely Comrades thing. Whatever it was, I liked it.<br />
<br />
Comrades was overall one of the best experiences of my
life and I hope to be back. Perhaps in 2016 for a down year and back-to-back medal... and another shot at Bill Rowen.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQT_OVtidIRl5zWY5LXjGeETa4cbvymaIyWKQF3GdAbltJJv2FHIa-UK_efXiR6pAwzwoIXYp4pz2GtPpDQ3dU9_oFrNdfYDk3oL_qZie8yHxQKnHEj1RoB5IKULHS8nCSPd2SUPyfmD-/s1600/IMG_3591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQT_OVtidIRl5zWY5LXjGeETa4cbvymaIyWKQF3GdAbltJJv2FHIa-UK_efXiR6pAwzwoIXYp4pz2GtPpDQ3dU9_oFrNdfYDk3oL_qZie8yHxQKnHEj1RoB5IKULHS8nCSPd2SUPyfmD-/s640/IMG_3591.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Done!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-29574046296328154632015-06-11T21:41:00.000-04:002015-06-17T15:40:44.038-04:00Comrades- Recon<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
We arrived in Durban on Friday, dropped our bags at the hotel, and headed to the expo. There were lots of questions still unanswered. Can I wear my TNT hat? How is Amanda going to follow me on the course? Where is the start exactly? But probably the most crucial was: How do I run this race?</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Specifically, I was asking,</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><b>1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal;"> </span></b><!--[endif]--><b>How should I pace myself?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><b>2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal;"> </span></b><!--[endif]--><b>Should I expect to walk some?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><b>3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal;"> </span></b><!--[endif]--><b>Other than hills, should I plan walk
breaks?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><b>4.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal;"> </span></b><!--[endif]--><b>How many calories do I need?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><b>5.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal;"> </span></b><!--[endif]--><b>What fuel is available on the course?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Yup. Though I had started processing these questions weeks earlier, I was still without satisfactory answers and a race plan I believed in.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_eJRBsXF4rBw_wfdNEwVZMIBPsPI2EILiDy7L9KzoKpbqnva3A-rKyVVyNJnZSaREo628lSJvWfaneKxK-QMx5HatxtRHrz_Z8PeDgQ03fL0le0lK5rKObD9saMV3RYSAquli29OGV4d4/s1600/IMG_3517.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_eJRBsXF4rBw_wfdNEwVZMIBPsPI2EILiDy7L9KzoKpbqnva3A-rKyVVyNJnZSaREo628lSJvWfaneKxK-QMx5HatxtRHrz_Z8PeDgQ03fL0le0lK5rKObD9saMV3RYSAquli29OGV4d4/s640/IMG_3517.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shot of the Comrades Expo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Most of the pacing information I could find was about
trail ultramarathons. The general answer would be to start off slow and then
slow down. This wasn’t sufficient for me, especially with a time goal.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I picked TNT Coach Mike’s brain about this topic. All his
50-miler experience is in the trails and on those, you walk the hills that make
you walk. The inclines are usually much more dramatic than road races, so this
made sense.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Chatting with Coach Matt of Brooklyn Distance Running who
has a couple 50+ milers under his belt, I told him that my 50K plus runs went well.
He assured me I’d be fine, “If you've done 32.5 you're gonna be golden for the race. The mental part is more than the physical” We didn’t
discuss pacing and walking though. His experience is mostly trail and I just
didn’t ask.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I searched the posted articles and podcasts from Coach
Perry, the official Comrades Coach, but didn’t find much about the actual race.
Finally, on the Friday before the race, I had a bit of an answer. I picked up Runner’s
World South Africa’s latest issue which had an article with Coach Perry giving
8.7 tips for running comrades. Tip number 7: Walk Early and Often gave me some guidance. </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Unless you're tageting a sub-7, you should be walking a minimum of one minute for every five to 10 kilometers.</i></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Kinda vague, with a
huge range, but it did answer <b>question 2:
resolved.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
On Saturday, Amanda and I took a route
tour that followed the race course almost exactly. Almost immediately the bus
started climbing the 2,500ish feet of elevation to Pietermaritzburg. The course
is known for having the “big five” hills. This is a hunting reference,
classifying the five deadliest animals to kill. Safari enthusiasts still use
the term, but rather than shooting these beautiful creatures with a gun, they
shoot them with a camera. Personally, I think the big five is over-emphasized
and it seems people make safari outings just a game of ticking sightings off a
list. It takes away from a deeper experience one can have out in the bush. There
are so many other animals and elements of nature to experience out there- so
much more than just five. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Am I digressing? Not really, because just as there are so
many more animals worth mentioning than five on a sarfari, there are a ton more
hills on this course than the five named ones. In fact, Amanda and I discussed
it and decided that there is exactly one metric shit-ton on hills on the
Comrades course. The course literally runs through an area called The Valley of a Thousand Hills. There should be no problem aligning a walk break with climbing
one of them. <b>Question 3: resolved.</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbQSBQjQdLIrWk2mB5h1cxquSoIO8fOzTu1J-evhrCThphaAWpOXX63I_HW35qbf5CbKhaBsvxsEyLvfR3vVbA29SouEKxbst8jBNfc8-lcFnkiUbpYpZSHOAhS096Faikg-68991Gk17a/s1600/IMG_4325.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbQSBQjQdLIrWk2mB5h1cxquSoIO8fOzTu1J-evhrCThphaAWpOXX63I_HW35qbf5CbKhaBsvxsEyLvfR3vVbA29SouEKxbst8jBNfc8-lcFnkiUbpYpZSHOAhS096Faikg-68991Gk17a/s640/IMG_4325.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the thousand hills behind us.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Hills aren’t the only thing we saw on this bus ride. Our
first stop took us to the Comrades Wall of Fame, where for 200 Rand ($20) a
Comrades finisher can purchase a brick and their bib number and be commemorated
there at the half way point for life. The more interesting aspect of this stop
was the Legend of Arthur Newton. Winner of the five of the first seven Comrades and avid
ultrarunner, you could say he is a founding father. There is an indentation on
the rock face along this part of the course, which can be taken as a seat, specifically,
Arthur's Seat. Locals say his spirit still runs the hills in the area.
Runners tip their cap to him as they run these roads and during
Comrades, participants pick a flower along the course and drop it in his seat.
Do so, and Arthur will bless the second half of your race.<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbogfqnBRrqBlOe24_S3SZZtpu_nHMQIP1hbzj_hbuMMWtWQmxxMotwV5hyQ08fjrMYaCqL2mrau5K9diU4RiIOXBeIPm-72KMHiV-YQOIrnbphubVvp6polnE9_jwlHCZsTUXmrVkwk6F/s1600/IMG_4314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbogfqnBRrqBlOe24_S3SZZtpu_nHMQIP1hbzj_hbuMMWtWQmxxMotwV5hyQ08fjrMYaCqL2mrau5K9diU4RiIOXBeIPm-72KMHiV-YQOIrnbphubVvp6polnE9_jwlHCZsTUXmrVkwk6F/s640/IMG_4314.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wall of Fame</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvR5-kC4cbcFy6S9kcP8HWz7xXswfU2pzWe8Zc7W5Tpcqdd3KJEF7WUD2LTy7GgR4jy59sYNoyruB3G0dV8PuvkTjrUflT8UiikOFv2105K6ZufRe62PsVqlf1nNP1MJfVve-kr85dtnTb/s1600/IMG_4312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="508" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvR5-kC4cbcFy6S9kcP8HWz7xXswfU2pzWe8Zc7W5Tpcqdd3KJEF7WUD2LTy7GgR4jy59sYNoyruB3G0dV8PuvkTjrUflT8UiikOFv2105K6ZufRe62PsVqlf1nNP1MJfVve-kr85dtnTb/s640/IMG_4312.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arthur's Chair</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Our second stop took us to an emotional visit to the <a href="http://www.ethembenischool.co.za/" target="_blank">Ethembeni School</a>. <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">This visit made a huge impact. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Meaning "place of hope" in Zulu, our tour guides describe this school as serving the disabled. Though we
did see plenty of children with ailments, we also saw what appeared to be lots
of healthy children as well. Amanda and I questioned this a bit. With a bit of
internet searching, I found this </span><a href="http://gowellmovie.com/site/school/" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;" target="_blank">site</a><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> which gave some answers.</span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Unfortunately, in South Africa some still find anathema or shame in a disabled or albino child. Some of the Ethembeni’s students were abandoned at the hospital at birth and later placed in the care of Ethembeni. Others were found hidden in back rooms of their houses and left virtually unattended. Most were brought to the school by loving parents or caretakers incapable of providing the proper support for their children.</i></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Some years
back, a Texas couple asked to stop and donate clothes to the school during the
course tour and the bus obliged. The students broke out in song in thanks for
the donations. A hat was passed around and an additional 200 Rand was raised on
the spot. It has thus become a tradition and the school has been unofficially
adopted by the international runners doing Comrades. Running clubs all over the
world do fundraisers for the children and bring the proceeds and even more
clothes to them every year. This year
international runners raised over 350,000 Rand ($35,000).</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfw5eDmEnF5ySB1pAoFBa9xEjA0-hE0cn0yAggIJsB9dSleHc4yRQMuugyJ1nymeP3ATnjpMXf5yRA0QjGg02UcyJuyzccuUBbCRenJm_zgugJH_72QbtiA-ZgKkYMQLFMU2ie9Zb9-K0F/s1600/IMG_4341.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfw5eDmEnF5ySB1pAoFBa9xEjA0-hE0cn0yAggIJsB9dSleHc4yRQMuugyJ1nymeP3ATnjpMXf5yRA0QjGg02UcyJuyzccuUBbCRenJm_zgugJH_72QbtiA-ZgKkYMQLFMU2ie9Zb9-K0F/s640/IMG_4341.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Impressive mix of traditional and modern dance. And we were told two of these kids are blind.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB3DXc3_K1OCMKVnxBh8X_dawdPTotbvdCmhQY6WPQ5hI4nL5CFbK6RKkJI2GxJXR_3vOIUjSw33MDtmOwKSWhX9r53tzAQFg-lRcLiRcHAuFIPnHdYM6QeNNSFH7OOQ52PbEsjiwhTHHT/s1600/IMG_4347.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB3DXc3_K1OCMKVnxBh8X_dawdPTotbvdCmhQY6WPQ5hI4nL5CFbK6RKkJI2GxJXR_3vOIUjSw33MDtmOwKSWhX9r53tzAQFg-lRcLiRcHAuFIPnHdYM6QeNNSFH7OOQ52PbEsjiwhTHHT/s640/IMG_4347.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome USA. Thank you, Ethembeni School.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/STISOwi0-0o/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/STISOwi0-0o?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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Somewhere along the ride I asked the tour guides, who have
done about 30 runnings combined between the two of them, what the earliest table was that had fuel, not
just water or Energade (basically Gatorade with a bit of carbonation). They
looked at me puzzled. You’d think this type of thing would be outlined by
Comrades on its webpage or in this event guide of theirs, but I couldn’t find an answer. Salted potatoes would be offered on the course and that was thankfully
clearly outlined in the guide, but I was interested in more. I had to figure
out how much I would carry and how much I would rely on the tables.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Everyone I talked to and everything I read on the
internet assured me that there was plenty of fuel offered at the tables- gels,
cookies, fruit, potatoes, coke, and more. But no one could give me specifics. I posted a question to Coach Perry hoping he
would cover the topic, but didn’t get a response. So I relied on what I knew
from Ironman. For me, that’s 250ish calories per hour- 2,250 total if I pulled
off a nine hour finish. To accompany this, I extrapolated the amount of water
and electrolytes I thought I’d need for 9 hours. For sure I’d be carrying my
trusty hand held bottle and since I took in about 3.5 bottles of water for a
3:30 marathon, 9 bottles of water and 27 salt tabs (3 per bottle) seemed right.
<b>Question 4: resolved.</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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Though I packed enough fuel to cover that and then some, I
had no intention of carrying that much on me (23 Gus?) so I had to budget what I
would bring. I have a great pair of race ready shorts that I’ve used for
marathons since 2009. Later that night I loaded the pockets full of what I
thought would be reasonable, put the shorts on, and ran in place to test their
bounce. I did this a few times, shifting the fuel to different pockets, adding
some, and leaving others out. In the end, I settled on 2 Gu Roctane in my water
bottle pocket, 6 more in my shorts pockets, and two 160 calorie fuel bars-
about half the calories I’d need. I gave
Amanda all the rest of my fuel, just in case I did get to see her on the course
and was desperate for it. But the plan was to get the rest of my calories from
the tables. <b>Question 5: resolved.</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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Still on the route tour, we made a stop at the Comrades
House in Pietermaritzburg, a small museum dedicated to the history of the race.
Winners of the race each year were listed on a wall-sized plaque, for male and
female categories each. News clippings and old photographs were displayed along
the walls. A really cool model of the course took up half a room. The race was
created by <a href="http://www.comrades.com/home-about/history-of-comrades" target="_blank">Vic Clapham</a> to honor the lives lost and those who fought in World War I. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS21L_UvG09VPlIAprhqxbQD7TjMiCnpLeGsbRPyQi8ZUlKMM-Y0LSWbvdsnWYEpzR1ngtFNqQO3C9YfQoI3-A4_qYHCy5xPXi1bvWiU0-vO6qZIhOt5h8CiZf_3Z75QWekyeQspzmHL8K/s1600/IMG_1318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS21L_UvG09VPlIAprhqxbQD7TjMiCnpLeGsbRPyQi8ZUlKMM-Y0LSWbvdsnWYEpzR1ngtFNqQO3C9YfQoI3-A4_qYHCy5xPXi1bvWiU0-vO6qZIhOt5h8CiZf_3Z75QWekyeQspzmHL8K/s640/IMG_1318.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Model of the course.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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We had a
particular aspect of history in mind, though, and I didn’t see it mentioned
anywhere. Participants could only be white males. When did everyone else get to
join in?</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Amanda found a short blurb in the Comrades race magazine
stating that blacks and women were allowed to run unofficially until finally in 1975, the 50th running of the footrace, when all people, regardless of race, gender, or age, were allowed to officially run. The article implied that the organizers were embarrassed they couldn't integrate sooner. But on a Post-Comrades Monday morning run in Durban, Amanda
met a Comrades finisher doing his “recovery” run who claimed the reason blacks
were allowed to run is because the organizers wanted a South African to win
again. Being 55 years old, he was around during Apartheid, during the Comrades
segregation, during the revolution, and now during these years of freedom. “I
would have been arrested for this”, he said, referring to running with Amanda
during the Apartheid era. </div>
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The reality may have been a mix of these two perspectives. The Comrades website actually has some great info on its history, including the <a href="http://www.comrades.com/1970" target="_blank">integration</a>. It is interesting to note that during this period in the mid 70s, as apartheid laws grew harsher and the fight for freedom intensified, Comrades was able to integrate and be more inclusive without violence. Historically, it seems Comrades was a place to demonstrate political concerns. Though perhaps no longer. From the <a href="http://www.comrades.com/international/international-race-information/2-race-info/314-general-rules-info" target="_blank">general rules section</a>: <i>"Under no circumstances may a runner display a political slogan. (IAAF Rule 2(a))."</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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Our last stop on the tour took us to the finish, but I
wasn’t much interested in seeing it- superstition, perhaps. It was a point to
point race and I had not gotten there yet, I thought to myself. I felt uneasy
and avoided viewing the finish line, hanging back with Amanda while the group
went forward.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I napped on the hour drive back to Durban. It was
valuable sleep, though I still had question number one to resolve. Or did I?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Coach Perry published pacing splits to guide runners
going for specific times, including a sub nine hour for the Bill Rowen medal.
Again, this was helpful, but it was pacing specifically for an 8:59:59 time. Also
the splits were quite large, up to 15k long, and given the course terrain, I didn’t
feel I could really apply it. Even mile splits were not possible and without
experience on this course, I needed a mini pace plan to execute this pace plan.
So I basically ignored it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In the end, I did what had been on my mind since starting
this training. I did what I knew and relied on my run/walk and pacing
experience, research, and observation for the marathon distance and
extrapolated. What has been successful for me is monitoring my effort level and
pacing my heart rate. I would stay in an EZ range for as long as my endurance
allowed. Any time that upper range was threatened, I would walk to bring my
effort/heart rate down. And somewhere in the later part of the race, I’d just
hang on. I’d hold the line, as my mantra states. <b>Question 1: resolved</b>.</div>
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Now all I had to do is go run this thing.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCSu-Az0hBNRStmfmyJcr0kifhZ908CsRo51ZgzmD5UBEp-3Ncctuap_oj6fe96W85Py7jO_AzPoTrDwfoba-i9mqIXB64U_favXYMisISleO0-AZd3UMzlbhIImkYsT-vHVn0C3lpjZXi/s1600/IMG_3529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCSu-Az0hBNRStmfmyJcr0kifhZ908CsRo51ZgzmD5UBEp-3Ncctuap_oj6fe96W85Py7jO_AzPoTrDwfoba-i9mqIXB64U_favXYMisISleO0-AZd3UMzlbhIImkYsT-vHVn0C3lpjZXi/s640/IMG_3529.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Runners added their fitness tips to this giant wall at the expo.</td></tr>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-88230260891907890232015-05-30T11:21:00.003-04:002015-05-30T12:29:03.766-04:00Comrades - Ultra Fun RunsAmanda and I did a course bus tour today, learned about the history of Comrades, saw all the hills firsthand (it's basically all hills), had an emotional visit children of the <a href="http://www.ethembenischool.co.za/" target="_blank">Ethembeni School</a>, and picked up some last minute advice. This is truly like nothing else I've done before. Trying to wrap my head around it will be a game day, step by step effort. It's hard for me to size up a course of this magnitude, both its distance and elevation gain.<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia73sSiMXk3IY-75ckx5H-x_Z_K3nvYfB8BfQ8mVmP_5MGJdlnjDmIaZq8jnuajkc_uVhoUESvGpDCmJCmVJk9EmjAgbP5-rHEPilcjm-S16pwfUUYynp6Y0qIvaSJuwLr-0QTgV3Gom99/s1600/IMG_1316.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia73sSiMXk3IY-75ckx5H-x_Z_K3nvYfB8BfQ8mVmP_5MGJdlnjDmIaZq8jnuajkc_uVhoUESvGpDCmJCmVJk9EmjAgbP5-rHEPilcjm-S16pwfUUYynp6Y0qIvaSJuwLr-0QTgV3Gom99/s640/IMG_1316.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Ethembeni School Children are about to perform.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When do I know that it's ok to go? I mean, at what point do I feel confident enough to lay it all out? For a marathon, that's usually mile 22ish for me. But I don't think the math works in a way that can extrapolate this point to Comrades. It would imply maybe 9 miles left, or 15k. That nicely fits the highest elevation point on the course, but still leaves three nasty hills until the end. In fact, even the last bit is an incline. I mean, go big or go home, right?<br>
<br>
So tonight I'll think a bit about this and other things. Tomorrow I'll figure it all out. Do I have a race plan? Yeah, I kinda do now, but it really didn't come together until today, talking to veterans, reading the latest South African edition of Runner's World, and seeing all the hills. I'm feeling pretty good and before I start kicking tomorrow, I'd like to reflect on the runs that got me here, working around holidays, travel, and battling through that long cold winter.<br>
<br>
<b>Putnam Road & GTS Brooklyn</b><br>
It was my first Long Slow Hill run and the first of my back to back longs. I decided to climb up Putnam Road, a very steep incline, rather than doing my usual Mariaville Road route. Definitely zapped my legs and the next day's 3 hour run with TNT was hard. This was a Friday night/Saturday morning combo. 1,200 feet elevation gain on first day, five hours total for the two days.<br>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwVljVxsi8QylnWApcKexVq_He9nsU2WAxu2RdjQbdgeVAksPZaMKLW1R0nHdqmGGXh2dMd5R91BEt-QBWtXZhWtJ4i9knhYdCT6CXLK8DE_mKkeFPGGH7hOLLry-4B8U2qSrGG0q_gBz/s1600/Putnam.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwVljVxsi8QylnWApcKexVq_He9nsU2WAxu2RdjQbdgeVAksPZaMKLW1R0nHdqmGGXh2dMd5R91BEt-QBWtXZhWtJ4i9knhYdCT6CXLK8DE_mKkeFPGGH7hOLLry-4B8U2qSrGG0q_gBz/s640/Putnam.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Putnam Road passed Rynex Corners and back</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br>
<b>Daniel Webster & Williamsburg Bridge Repeats</b><br>You've seen the bridge chart. The first half of this back to back was a wicked early traditional Daniel Webster run with friends. Rather than take the subway up to Central Park, I ran there. 1,800 feet of elevation gain on the second day, 5 1/2 hours total for the two days.<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Qf48giVFYcDZBdp1wywEkZ3ITi-ZBafjR7rlHWAqvCf3UieuG-bm4tVZ_PUhFuph1uoV_XJr7FW5mRxfqISNN0dksLd1s-U1zrkUApvnZ3GvPXTR3UHgMucEAaQ5AUppe_CZ6gE6qZgU/s1600/11047921_10205242922126817_2157109318828155721_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Qf48giVFYcDZBdp1wywEkZ3ITi-ZBafjR7rlHWAqvCf3UieuG-bm4tVZ_PUhFuph1uoV_XJr7FW5mRxfqISNN0dksLd1s-U1zrkUApvnZ3GvPXTR3UHgMucEAaQ5AUppe_CZ6gE6qZgU/s640/11047921_10205242922126817_2157109318828155721_n.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daniel Webster buddies. An unscheduled poop break made me too late for the photo.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br>
<b>Virginia Beach Half & Full</b><br>
I ran to the night before pasta dinner, mapping out 13.1 miles. Then we all got up for the event itself, 26.2 more miles for me, my first ever marathon distance training run. Started bonking around mile 18 and realized it, thankfully, so I started eating more calories. I tried to keep it EZ pace, but with just a couple miles left, I just wanted to be done and sped up. I'll need to learn patience.<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8S6wgoJcbsA_Q1WO3dYbfnIR4WjBNendhiVaF-KV1LToi-h0cTPOgdt0qyOSXpgAgtI5H9H7_5hLxB8hqec03XF7wj-baWkp0U2G22V-OivAIWpyyQlEVu5MCAMbicxanzChALwl17XY/s1600/11081175_10205314502156273_7022324647460045643_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8S6wgoJcbsA_Q1WO3dYbfnIR4WjBNendhiVaF-KV1LToi-h0cTPOgdt0qyOSXpgAgtI5H9H7_5hLxB8hqec03XF7wj-baWkp0U2G22V-OivAIWpyyQlEVu5MCAMbicxanzChALwl17XY/s640/11081175_10205314502156273_7022324647460045643_n.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Though I ran at an EZ training pace, PRs were had! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br>
<b>Tenerife Climbs</b><br>
Just back from a calf strain, and hills all around me on my work trip to the Canary Islands (I know, hard life), I did a series of short steep climbs. Photos will come (didn't bring them to South Africa with me). Three runs in four days, 16.5 miles, 2,500 feet of elevation gain.<br>
<br>
<b>Lake Minnewaska & JFK 5K Plus</b><br>
Went up to Coach Michael's place in New Paltz with the team and had an awesomely beautiful and hilly run, logging 26.2 on the trails and taking in the views. The next day I joined Amanda for the JFK 5K (where she took third place female) and added miles/time where I could- in the fenced off waiting area, going in a bunch of circles. I'm pretty proud of this one. 2,350 feet of elevation gain on first day, tons of circles on the second. Over six hours of running total. (more photos to come)<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnWTW7pPvq9n7TwaQCccDyDz38hVzknv41uee7GDw575Imgm0DUMBU8WHRKAEUq0k27Ny6AMfvjZV4XVjYt9t-5WBwpLCzSjnojY79edSNHGJR5RxSTZFvrILiZyyGDLzrSLUKBiH8UzMb/s1600/11008592_945143018851956_3914543219181998698_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnWTW7pPvq9n7TwaQCccDyDz38hVzknv41uee7GDw575Imgm0DUMBU8WHRKAEUq0k27Ny6AMfvjZV4XVjYt9t-5WBwpLCzSjnojY79edSNHGJR5RxSTZFvrILiZyyGDLzrSLUKBiH8UzMb/s640/11008592_945143018851956_3914543219181998698_n.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Third place female and her entourage.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz66rPBBF6JnUAXH99k36AxBCehD2yz4L_NQBIo4m0BT6dVmKWbkxSCBgcA9zTbxYJYQhudJmS2t56uFCHBMilnoPPA84tIUfjzniEFfpdirrMSIjJbnBLSPIZ7jOK1cPgG0xUMLJBZZXb/s1600/jfk.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz66rPBBF6JnUAXH99k36AxBCehD2yz4L_NQBIo4m0BT6dVmKWbkxSCBgcA9zTbxYJYQhudJmS2t56uFCHBMilnoPPA84tIUfjzniEFfpdirrMSIjJbnBLSPIZ7jOK1cPgG0xUMLJBZZXb/s640/jfk.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5K on the run way, the remaining 10.5 miles in these loops.</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>Windy Friday & Ultra GTS Saturday</b><br>
I must have been a sight that night, dressed in not enough clothes, freezing, and cursing at the wind. I mean literally saying, "fuck you wind!" every time a big gust blew dirt in my face and threatened to freeze my fingers off. Winter was still clinging on during this late April run. The next morning I got up wicked early, knocked off 12 miles before GTS, then 12 more with GTS, and finished up my first ultra run. It was five hours and 32.4 miles long. Together for the two days I logged 7 hours and 46.5 miles.<br>
<br>
<b>Bear Mountain Weekend</b><br>
It was the Bear Mountain Team's weekend to shine and shine they did. I went up both days to see them start and finish. And while they were out tackling the very tough trails, I took to the road, doing Bear Mountain Observatory repeats both days. 6,200 feet of elevation gain, 7 hours of running for two days. Definitely was a confidence booster. (more pics to come)<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcwWaXF372DB1XTcIw4pOTv2etbillNLRGCOxxFzmFLWrEoswBKKy85EbIl-UZXmhzjZBIXfRXJjWJpyMlBQaRhLt63TqMGjg8Vo0IfAR-riuaJcKVC5_CnEAeV58g3J11EV57h4Op3ZEs/s1600/11194840_10153052181294681_118125827_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcwWaXF372DB1XTcIw4pOTv2etbillNLRGCOxxFzmFLWrEoswBKKy85EbIl-UZXmhzjZBIXfRXJjWJpyMlBQaRhLt63TqMGjg8Vo0IfAR-riuaJcKVC5_CnEAeV58g3J11EV57h4Op3ZEs/s640/11194840_10153052181294681_118125827_o.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three trail 50Kers and one road 50Ker.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEittwAKxnGpCRkS7Pdh8E7FU8zDPnx8LqMKf4pdzEXEhLbW-vCyqkx9qPGFF1hj_hLVJ-zEOPyB1kTzQ-ef_0qa7svURrutKy26inTV44nkrkkm-9nJcQNLDy36WYZTiG0X-yxVjhyphenhyphenBEjWY/s1600/bear.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEittwAKxnGpCRkS7Pdh8E7FU8zDPnx8LqMKf4pdzEXEhLbW-vCyqkx9qPGFF1hj_hLVJ-zEOPyB1kTzQ-ef_0qa7svURrutKy26inTV44nkrkkm-9nJcQNLDy36WYZTiG0X-yxVjhyphenhyphenBEjWY/s640/bear.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was my out-and-back repeat route both Saturday and Sunday.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br>
<b>Brooklyn Half Coaching</b><br>
I logged about 16 miles while supporting the team during the Brooklyn Half. It was an awesome morning.<br>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiboWm-cArW5WFV3dSAdfUR9aSqS1Uk4-s4_l6zpatC6dkXfqDSbXBaWe9HI76EEe4zkvWjWZCNBm8w8nQszfycJt0jCV5XpiPIWA590wsvAxZaYzQk91kneimbaOkRB_ILwcqbT9IGY23m/s1600/11054480_886889214682604_7312726917731895774_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiboWm-cArW5WFV3dSAdfUR9aSqS1Uk4-s4_l6zpatC6dkXfqDSbXBaWe9HI76EEe4zkvWjWZCNBm8w8nQszfycJt0jCV5XpiPIWA590wsvAxZaYzQk91kneimbaOkRB_ILwcqbT9IGY23m/s640/11054480_886889214682604_7312726917731895774_n.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The awesome TNT Summer Season Brooklyn Half Marathon team</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br>
<b>Thames River Run</b><br>
Why didn't I take a picture? Regardless, running with James and Amanda along the Thames in London- what would be my last real run before Comrades- was awesome. What a great way to wrap up training and a fantastic way to start this vacation.<br>
<br>
So tomorrow is Comrades. My bib is 26523. Apparently you can track me on the <a href="http://www.comrades.com/">Comrades.com</a> site. Also, you can track me if you download the UltimateLive App on your mobile device and enter in my info. And if I can figure it out, my Facebook wall will post updates.<br>
<br>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh13YhzhJZitbZqdJmYhE81S-caKFT74D0Mep4OA8_ChWz0Ikmu5NcDL6-FokqOnrKTrE59PJ3Faqbyr0Zjq9urwMjB5ua3NqQy_FVeDJK3KYUcyEAvg3y0u1Wyr39tHjgPrI-oNwX-fJz/s1600/IMG_1323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh13YhzhJZitbZqdJmYhE81S-caKFT74D0Mep4OA8_ChWz0Ikmu5NcDL6-FokqOnrKTrE59PJ3Faqbyr0Zjq9urwMjB5ua3NqQy_FVeDJK3KYUcyEAvg3y0u1Wyr39tHjgPrI-oNwX-fJz/s400/IMG_1323.JPG" width="300"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pietermaritzburg here I come!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br>runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-76373291287275069702015-05-29T16:32:00.000-04:002015-05-29T16:32:13.090-04:00Comrades - Healthy Calves<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Yesterday was our last day of safari in Kruger. My focus now turns to Comrades. We arrived in Durban today, bib picked up, expo done, and I'm healthy. I feel fortunate about that.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKRmndbyGjUvoSVuozVPo8Gz0pl1w_JYQLIkZEha5oWhv3BTy7PBil_tWEIN0wfAELd-sEVYC7vBEkqS2GlSf9ybBTrr-fCUVq9fxBBmTkhLqrgApBymbikIznfSI2Kf_DTMO4FS9Mf8dw/s1600/IMG_1290.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKRmndbyGjUvoSVuozVPo8Gz0pl1w_JYQLIkZEha5oWhv3BTy7PBil_tWEIN0wfAELd-sEVYC7vBEkqS2GlSf9ybBTrr-fCUVq9fxBBmTkhLqrgApBymbikIznfSI2Kf_DTMO4FS9Mf8dw/s640/IMG_1290.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Momma is trying to keep her calf (baby) healthy and so am I</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Calf strains. I have a history. The first memorable one
occurred a couple weeks before the <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2010/11/41st-running.html" target="_blank">2010 NYC Marathon</a>. That case of posterior tendonitis
hung around for months. While switching to a <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/search/label/%28Mid%29Sole%20Searching" target="_blank">midfoot strike</a>, by calves felt constantly
tight. Later, it was calf strains that sidelined me periodically from training,
forcing me to skip events. More recently, my calf would get a fairly sudden,
seemingly unprompted tweak during an EZ run shortly after I’ve raced some
endurance event. Probably running too soon, I figured. I made it practice to
try to stay diligent about mitigating these strains. They were usually minor
and at least it was isolated. No more IT band or knee issues since changing my
stride and posture.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
But why did this latest strain happen? I was 6 miles into
an EZ 10 mile run on a mild for winter evening. I was diligent about building a
base unrushed and already I had a couple weeks of back-to-back long runs in the
bank- all successful. My mileage wasn’t crazy high yet, and it actually would
get to be at any point in the season. And the last week was basically a cutback
week, since I caught a cold and took it easy. So what the hell is up?
Frustration mounted as I stopped on Flatbush Ave to stretch a bit, tested it,
and called it. I hopped on the Q train, cursing under my breath. This was my third strain in the same number of months- first left calf, then right, then left
again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
It wasn’t the mileage volume. Could it be the workout
choices? I hadn’t been doing speed work consistently, focusing on endurance
instead, which consisted of back-to-backs and long slow distance (LSD), which I’m
very familiar with, and long slow hills (LSH), which was fairly new to me.
Could it be these LSH workouts?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I had only done two LSH workouts in the season at this
point. Finding a hilly course- really hilly- in New York City is a challenge. I
did the first one upstate while visiting my parents. I chose my usual Mariaville Road route and
added in Putnam Road, which was a fairly steep climb. It was real work, for
sure. The second brought me to the Williamsburg bridge where I did repeats.
Once over the Manhattan bridge on my way, 5 repeats out and back of the
Williamsburg Bridge, and one more over the Manhattan Bridge on the way home. What a workout. 22.5 miles, 3.5 hours of
glorious climbing and descending.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZp-6sGb_t1DOexE1IYtTj0D0z_Q5J4pOdx7XnwamCYVt6VaHaR-rt84Vqg0YEneTR5i69AgItSEq5wAk1OgC9TSAcCHOr2LU0jtdXlW6Ln2vVeFhBy_BQ9UQahOWbNe3ibfhJw8wMolXS/s1600/IMG_1312.PNG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZp-6sGb_t1DOexE1IYtTj0D0z_Q5J4pOdx7XnwamCYVt6VaHaR-rt84Vqg0YEneTR5i69AgItSEq5wAk1OgC9TSAcCHOr2LU0jtdXlW6Ln2vVeFhBy_BQ9UQahOWbNe3ibfhJw8wMolXS/s400/IMG_1312.PNG.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strava screenshot of the Williamsburg Bridge repeats</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
But both these runs occurred weeks ago. Perhaps the
accumulation of them and other workouts still led to the latest calf strain,
but I didn’t like it. I need these workouts and I did them right. I managed my
weeks right, I felt. I needed to find a better solution. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Coach Michael and I were coaching Team in Training
marathon summer season together- he in Manhattan and I in Brooklyn. About a
month earlier in an exchange of emails, Conlon referred me to a book, <a href="http://www.readytorunbook.com/" target="_blank">Ready toRun ,by Kelly Starrett</a>. I picked it up and read through it. I thought it was a good book,
full of helpful exercises. I agreed with the author's philosophies and have mined running knowledge from many of the same sources. I immediately put some of his teachings into practice.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Kelly stressed mob (mobility) exercises, something that I
do with my runners as well. He stresses proper hydration and warm up and cool
downs, things I teach as well… but again, was I practicing what I preached?
Probably not as well as I could have been. I decidedly upped my mobility game, spending
an hour rolling and stretching 3 to 4 times a day. I started wearing calf
compression sleeves while I slept and at work to aid in recovery, and I paid
much more attention to my hydration. By the time of this calf strain, I had
been doing these things for only three weeks or so. Maybe it was still early
for the benefits to pay out and keep me injury free. Or maybe there was still more to explore.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I looked at one more thing- my running shoes. I like to
think that I am fit and nimble enough to run in any shoe. I’ve spent years
getting myself to this point.But I wasn’t doing any crazy experiments and as I’ve
mentioned, my mileage wasn’t crazy. I had been wearing the Sketcher GoRuns for
over a year now, logging 1,500 miles in them. And though I just started wearing
the GoRun4s rather than the GoRun3s, they were so similar, I couldn’t believe they’d
cause such issues. But maybe…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I am part of Sketchers test wearer program and send them
periodic logs and comments on their shoes. When I first put the GoRun4s on, I
noted the wider toebox and nicer upper, which were benefits. The shoe also felt
more sure-footed, but not bulkier, which was nice. And also this: </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“feels like the shoe is flatter than the 3s”</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Turns out it was. In the GoRun3s, the drop if 4mm if you
remove the insole. In the GoRun4s, I read that the drop was 4mm and assume it
was such without insoles, so I removed them. I think I was wrong. So for the
past 3 months, I had been running on basically zero drop shoes. Could 4mm make
such a difference? Yeah, maybe. With all these other things I considered- my
mobility limits and different workouts, maybe 4mm contributed to the issue. Swallowing
my pride, I bought a new pair of GoRun4s a half size larger and kept the
insoles in.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Other than one hiccup, I’ve stayed strain-free since. I
can’t say what exactly solved the issue. Perhaps it was a combination of all the
above. But as long as this trend continues, I’m ok with not knowing for sure. I've been able to log some pretty fun miles the last couple months, highlights of which I will share tomorrow!<o:p></o:p></div>
runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-60649366911950030412015-05-28T17:03:00.000-04:002015-05-28T17:03:01.945-04:00Comrades - Long Run to Freedom<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Inspired by Nelson Mandela and his autobiography "Long Walk to Freedom", and limited by the desire not
to get eaten, I did a thirty minute running in place workout while on Safari.
Mandela did this to stay fit in his cell during his time in prison. I did it
because anything that runs out here in the African bush instinctively is food to
the predators. With just one more shake out run on the schedule, to be run in
Durban, sans predators, all the speed workouts have been done and all the base-building
miles have been logged. In February, 16 weeks to Comrades, I had already fallen
behind…<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zNrByT4EbQT5su8R8lMNcLKzm6a53XGvW8W_CJ9v8fNPyhiHXA3KqG6Yp2u9QQS25JTpuntoXge0c6xJyyzoyuKW_njnqYTCqRl-IXahfA6TjQv6q91mWBQPgWCxM1WPsf0KvZPQZBEv/s1600/IMG_1248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="376" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zNrByT4EbQT5su8R8lMNcLKzm6a53XGvW8W_CJ9v8fNPyhiHXA3KqG6Yp2u9QQS25JTpuntoXge0c6xJyyzoyuKW_njnqYTCqRl-IXahfA6TjQv6q91mWBQPgWCxM1WPsf0KvZPQZBEv/s640/IMG_1248.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This beauty spotted yesterday is predator to no one (except douchebag poachers)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
A calf strain after a hill workout in last week of January
set me back. It seemed a spontaneous injury, occurring during a easy pace mile
right after finishing up all the hard stuff. Of course, it happened on the far
side of the park and of course I didn’t bring my metro card. So I walked home,
which probably made it worse. I monitored it each day, tested it a week later,
but it took about two weeks to be back to normal. I substituted strength work
in and used my now free time to look at my schedule in more detail, or should I
say, my lack of schedule.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The <a href="http://www.runnersworld.com/ultramarathons/the-ultimate-ultramarathon-training-plan" target="_blank">Runner’s World plan</a> says I should be running 18 mile
long runs by February 8<sup>th</sup>. That was just a week away and even if
healthy, this would be a big jump in mileage. By my estimates, I wouldn’t be
doing 18 mile runs until late February, and that’s if the calf injury didn’t
set me back to much. So once again I turned to my trusty friend Google. Perhaps
a new search would turn up a new result. It did.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I found an updated <a href="http://www.comrades.com/bill-rowan-2015" target="_blank">Comrades-specific training calendar</a>
for January to race day. It was created by Coach Lindsey Perry, the official
Comrades Coach. It seems I misunderstood the training offered during my last
search when I turned up the July to December bit. The January to May portion wasn’t
published yet, but also, there were multiple versions of the training calendar
based on your medal target. Ah yes- Bill Rowen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
To obtain the Bill Rowen medal, I’d need to finish in less
than nine hours. This training calendar had speed workouts, which I wasn’t
surprised about. But what did surprise me is how light the mileage/time was on
the weekend workouts. It was much lighter than the RW plan, by a lot. Though the longest single run was about the same (5 hours/50k), RW's plan called for 4-hour and 5-hour runs back-to-back while Coach Perry's plan called for 2-hour and 3.75-hour runs. Huh ok,
so who is right? Enter Coach Mike. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
We had been coaching runners for the Bear Mountain
Endurance Challenge for a couple months now. Mike came up with the idea of creating a unique training season focusing on this tough event. I assisted in Brooklyn while he led in Manhattan. Though I do
have trail running experience, I have no ultra marathon experience. One evening
after work, I bought him a beer and picked his brain. We went over the two
plans and their differences. We talked about my strengths and weaknesses. And
he shared his experience with me. But all his ultras have been on the trail. Comrades
is a road running event, so very different. Mike believes in volume and suggested that if my body could handle it, I
should go for the volume-heavy plan. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
And that is what is at the core of any
nicely tailored training plan. This one key concept- do what your body can
handle, recover from, and be ready for the next workout. I preach this to all
my runners and I build their training calendars with the same philosophy. Why
was I straying for from this concept for my own event?</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Quite frankly, the distance intimidated me. How do I work
up to and prepare for that kind of mileage? And why do these two plans so widely
differ? My brain was going in circles. Ok, let’s review what all plans,
including Mike’s advice, have in common.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->It’s all about endurance development<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Max long run of 5 hours/50K is sufficient<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Back to back long endurance building workouts
are key<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Speed work is not crucial, but is nice if my
body can handle it<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
And now add in the concepts I know to be true.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Only do as much as you can and still recover
from for the next workout<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Strength work makes a difference<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
From this, I created a hybrid Frankenstein-like training
plan that included serious speed work and weekend mileage that split the
difference between the two extreme plans. I incorporated a new workout type,
Long Slow Hills (LSH), as suggested by the Coach Perry plan. I cut out heavy
weight leg strength days. And I would
reevaluate at the end of each week whether I felt the mileage should increase
or decrease. Finally, I had a plan.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-_K3E3YQajIsAl6kZCaobkfTDgTyAE3Xcgczau9l_DJwntwHkGjRHjOB-ac8c4UK0-0ZnU8Z67g6sp-fZoemQcNINoWxim6Nglje6U-vEgNFBOycTTi0vPMBzDgv-DSbKGCkDzx66caRN/s1600/11038645_10205205663075364_156776803755422792_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-_K3E3YQajIsAl6kZCaobkfTDgTyAE3Xcgczau9l_DJwntwHkGjRHjOB-ac8c4UK0-0ZnU8Z67g6sp-fZoemQcNINoWxim6Nglje6U-vEgNFBOycTTi0vPMBzDgv-DSbKGCkDzx66caRN/s640/11038645_10205205663075364_156776803755422792_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First long run included a couple hours with summer season & Bear Mountain teams, then an extra hour solo.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I hit my first 18 mile run on March 7<sup>th</sup>, a
full month later than scheduled. That
weekend was also my first long back to back, totaling 32.4 miles in two days. The
following weekend I did 3.5 hour and 2 hour runs totaling 35.8 miles. Following
that, I pulled off a 2 hour and 4 hour run weekend which included a 13.1 mile
EZ run and the VA Beach Marathon.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I did the marathon at an EZ pace rather than racing as I wanted
to, worried that I would not come anywhere close to my goal and would just blow
out my legs in an attempt, forcing a long recovery period and lost time. I was
happy with my decision and my training seemed to be on a good track.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ix7aoNEKcLmdXw4gq8B6CxyB_sS26ZABtFaryImMaILxZuMdbk6DTspJ5YOB_QbyFKQESKkAJZIfsSTS810Sj1R85-Sd76XumCKowWYGppLPEuKX24intHHINV28xuugN-8UahMpxU_R/s1600/11073393_10155419284925604_1457330064111620810_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ix7aoNEKcLmdXw4gq8B6CxyB_sS26ZABtFaryImMaILxZuMdbk6DTspJ5YOB_QbyFKQESKkAJZIfsSTS810Sj1R85-Sd76XumCKowWYGppLPEuKX24intHHINV28xuugN-8UahMpxU_R/s640/11073393_10155419284925604_1457330064111620810_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beers and Beaches at Virginia Beach</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
But then a few days later on an EZ run from midtown to
Ditmas Park, by calf tightened up into a knot… </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Again… ugh…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-41790124115017087282015-05-26T17:27:00.002-04:002015-05-28T17:03:43.659-04:00Comrades - Speeding and Seeding<div class="MsoNormal">
If you happen to be drinking coffee with me today and asked
what I am going to be doing this Sunday, it would take me a moment to pull myself
out of this world Amanda and I submerged ourselves in, full of zebras, giraffe,
elephants and lions to answer you that I would in fact be running 54.5 miles up
hill and hoping to do so in less than nine hours. Maybe you’d be impressed. But
I’d shake my head and tell you how you could do it, too… you just have to want
it and put in the work. Training. That’s what’s going to get me to the finish…
and the start…<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifbVCo7j-_172fWHdx5nx8-D_WKZG2WYiGbypI3KZSOnY1Bcu2zL_Y3KkM0aLSlO-LVcHZp4bpXZ4QOk1Pc_mvvxhyphenhypheny0f7xTIf2d9DDN9NPgsZ54Tq73fo_6-_Rrzeg8TVike_XHyj3BsN/s1600/IMG_1176-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="460" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifbVCo7j-_172fWHdx5nx8-D_WKZG2WYiGbypI3KZSOnY1Bcu2zL_Y3KkM0aLSlO-LVcHZp4bpXZ4QOk1Pc_mvvxhyphenhypheny0f7xTIf2d9DDN9NPgsZ54Tq73fo_6-_Rrzeg8TVike_XHyj3BsN/s640/IMG_1176-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, we were really that close. It was awesome.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was wrapping my head around the possibility of Comrades
eight months deep into 2014, a pretty solid year. In fact, it was a year full of PRs.
It was the year that would finally rival 2010, when I trained with James and
was seriously aiming for a Boston qualifying time. Vienna Marathon worked out
well for me in April with a two minute PR. Brooklyn Half in May with a PR of
about the same time. It didn’t mean that I was finally matching my speed in
2010, but I was on my way. In July I knocked off the Lake Placid Ironman and my
sights were set on another substantial Marathon PR in the fall. Speed. I was
feeling a need for it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://streamafilm.nu/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/top-gun-gif-1844-17979-hd-wallpapers.jpg.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://streamafilm.nu/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/top-gun-gif-1844-17979-hd-wallpapers.jpg.gif" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since 2009 I’ve had my eye on a speed goal- run a sub three
hour marathon. Leaping toward that, I set a pace for 3:10 in the 2010 NYC
Marathon, which would have been a 39 minute improvement over 2009. My time goal
crumbled under muscle cramping issues starting at mile 16 and I finished (happily)
with a 3:29. I’ve since figured those cramp issues out, thankfully. But my
level of fitness and speed potential has yet to match that magical 2010
training year, partly because of injury and my desire to become a midfoot
strike runner, and partly because I get distracted by shiny things, namely
Ironman NY/NJ, Ironman Lake Placid, and now Comrades.<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZGTDX4PWkNI3fs7BFUDtl7rOgYtKT56XUpU6Pba0812InzhQ3wSifxqNLsA5gGNU_CTOqOQnIhReqWjwk01Mnau49Jly2Syp1L2E2XyNNU7NsKz0hezYVarTAFdwiOP_xHLyHbvbzhps0/s1600/62006_10150295997700393_739155392_15119483_3990960_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="475" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZGTDX4PWkNI3fs7BFUDtl7rOgYtKT56XUpU6Pba0812InzhQ3wSifxqNLsA5gGNU_CTOqOQnIhReqWjwk01Mnau49Jly2Syp1L2E2XyNNU7NsKz0hezYVarTAFdwiOP_xHLyHbvbzhps0/s640/62006_10150295997700393_739155392_15119483_3990960_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2010- the year of speed, PRs, and hotdogs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But wait, would Comrades get in the way? Could I squeeze in
two to three more marathons all while building a base for this 54 mile event? I
did what any sensible person would do and Googled “ultra marathon training program”
and found a<a href="http://www.runnersworld.com/ultramarathons/the-ultimate-ultramarathon-training-plan" target="_blank"> 2005 Runner’s World article</a> that told me I could do this with 16
weeks of training IF I already had a marathon-ready base (ie, I was already
doing 18ish mile long runs). Of course, this article also gave the advice of a)
Run something locally, and b) Do a flat race.
Hahahaha, oops. I couldn’t find much more on the topic, surprisingly,
but it was enough to give me confidence to sign up and put the Comrades-specific
training on the back burner. Because of this urgency I felt for velocity.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My training in the summer and fall was a bit rocky because
of my health. I attribute this to the travel I was doing for work and the
consequences of Ironman, at least for me- burnout. Though I wanted to race
Mohawk Hudson in October, I deferred and instead raced Brooklyn Marathon in
November. My training ramped up quickly because of the short amount of healthy
time I had and I ended up over-training.
Luckily, I recognized this, did a fairly
sharp taper of almost no activity, and PRed Brooklyn! It was my best race yet.
I felt amazing and the support I received from friends and teammates around
Prospect Park made it my favorite marathon so far. I could easily devote a
whole blog post to this and thanking the team- SCBkR and TNT- for their
support. Too many fun things.<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc61nO-Fca_NQIUL_GK9vCLND6ZDTuWVUkH9J9KQE9OXMx7RsM685QDuC9tLdxWf7eVDSUjIefK0wr6mESJvYryNn6m6Nr7WzqIn5Sxp3bODEXxZu-HcRwqUXnkTJBp7qiBD-ttjqox8eD/s1600/tumblr_nfcuujBBAr1r68plzo5_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc61nO-Fca_NQIUL_GK9vCLND6ZDTuWVUkH9J9KQE9OXMx7RsM685QDuC9tLdxWf7eVDSUjIefK0wr6mESJvYryNn6m6Nr7WzqIn5Sxp3bODEXxZu-HcRwqUXnkTJBp7qiBD-ttjqox8eD/s640/tumblr_nfcuujBBAr1r68plzo5_500.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">South Hill Cheer Squad</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Where was I? Oh yes, Comrades… It was now late November, I
had signed up for Comrades a few weeks earlier and was entering my qualifying
marathon time when I noticed this: “All runners will be seeded according to
their qualifying times.” I don’t know if this means waves or just corals, but
the faster qualifying time I get the farther toward the front I’d be. Ok, cool.
With a 3:24 time, I just missed Batch B, but my time was good enough for batch
C, third batch out of nine. Still good, and perhaps I can improve my time with
my spring marathon!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This also caught my eye: <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEganp_-3TNj0-IVh2I46Kzhb6YWweXZPj7DW0BuhAwdK6mSqZVbcQ1O4hwtXkQdL01bXpjQNUOka3MnUBdY7AqbIr8MvZpr2UwfQrM_6BAc6NUTnikHLiVI5CRkKZ7J2ci7LrCrCBtoQaoG/s1600/bill+rowen.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEganp_-3TNj0-IVh2I46Kzhb6YWweXZPj7DW0BuhAwdK6mSqZVbcQ1O4hwtXkQdL01bXpjQNUOka3MnUBdY7AqbIr8MvZpr2UwfQrM_6BAc6NUTnikHLiVI5CRkKZ7J2ci7LrCrCBtoQaoG/s640/bill+rowen.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ok so, what’s my goal then? With a cutoff time of 12 hours,
which is shorter than either of my Ironmans, I felt comfortable that I could
somehow get this done ok, but hadn’t really thought about what type of time I
would be aiming for, if any. Referring back to that Runner’s World plan, it
estimated I would finish a 50 miler in 2 x Marathon time + 2 hours. Basically 9
hours for me. Bill Rowan. Crap. I think I have a time goal now…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Can I trust this training calendar? It’s so vague, clearly
meant for a flat 50 miler, and I think a trail race as well. Turning back to my
trusty friend Google and searching “Comrades training plan” did turn up some interesting
things. I found specific schedules for the months of July to December. I wasn’t
sure what to make of it exactly, since Comrades was in May and the workouts
here were much easier than what I had planned. So I brushed it off. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I laid out my training and race calendar. Coordinating with
friends, I took aim at Virginia Beach Marathon in March at my next attempt at a
PR and getting into Batch B. Putting my faith in that Runner’s World calendar,
I marked February 9<sup>th</sup> as 16 weeks out from Comrades. It was five
weeks prior to VA Beach, but I’d figure that out later. It’s not something I’d
have to worry about immediately, and besides, I felt a longing quickness…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then came my calf issues… More to come!<o:p></o:p></div>
runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-2849441934606644092015-05-25T17:21:00.000-04:002015-05-28T17:04:08.223-04:00Comrades - Safari<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today I saw a baby hippo playfully practice being macho in front of a couple hundred thirsty cape buffalo. We sat on the opposite side of the watering hole, snapping photos, watching the sunset, taking the scene in. How did I get here and what does this have to do with eating miles for breakfast? Yeah, let me explain...</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxvxyQ3Ph33iqlCbxExzrWVj0glZcnUUvqA0A8Dh210shcPzrj2fNbEr4GBhgfRBbsW06r4wlaam5InhRN8lPoP-lvOmHEit6xXiMY6wkqmwIN4Oo5MafQSZ8kFynTu7rbAy51B8HI5LJN/s1600/11225382_10205782238449388_272180127888104069_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="449" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxvxyQ3Ph33iqlCbxExzrWVj0glZcnUUvqA0A8Dh210shcPzrj2fNbEr4GBhgfRBbsW06r4wlaam5InhRN8lPoP-lvOmHEit6xXiMY6wkqmwIN4Oo5MafQSZ8kFynTu7rbAy51B8HI5LJN/s640/11225382_10205782238449388_272180127888104069_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scene from today's safari drive</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Somewhere between completing my second Ironman in July in Lake Placid and deferring the Mohawk Hudson River Marathon in October, Amanda and I began brainstorming a vacation idea- her dream vacation- an African Safari. She had been saving her Delta miles for years and inspired by friends Katja and David, we started asking the hows and wheres and how much questions. South Africa was to be our destination, sometime between May and October (their fall/winter) for best animal viewing. That’s when the light bulb went off over my head.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Comrades.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Some years prior, Mark and I were talking those talks we do when we dream up what may be our next adventure. This is how the <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2010/08/country-justice.html" target="_blank">Northville-Placid Trail 5 day hike</a> came about. That was also how the first seed was planted in what would fruit into an <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2012/09/ironman-us-championship-000000.html" target="_blank">Ironman</a> for me. You could say the same thing of my first New York City Marathon. We had both read about this race, whether in a Runner’s World article or in Bart Yasso’s memoir, <a href="http://www.bartyasso.com/mylifeontherun" target="_blank">My Life on the Run</a>, and we were both intrigued. At this point we had done a couple marathons and projected that at some point in the semi-distant future- say when we are about 41 years old- we’d think about making this happen.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<a href="http://comrades.com/" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">Comrades</a><span style="font-family: inherit;">. They call it a marathon, but it is 54 to 56 miles long, depending on the year. They alternate direction each year and the course usually changes slightly as well. It is 54.5 miles this year, due to some construction in a town we are running through in the last 12 miles or so. And it’s also an “up year”, meaning it will begin at sea level in the city of Durban and climb to about 2,600 feet to the city of P</span>ietermaritzburg<span style="font-family: inherit;">, with a total elevation gain of about 7,000 feet. It’s the oldest ultra-marathon distance footrace in the world, and the largest. When I first learned about it, the field was about 16,000 runners deep. It is now 24,000.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2L3glq0YwCFXVw10Y8kepmDa8PJUUURwYvAoDkmGibOsb6cz1yiUNQFyeFJUQ7AD39d3bu2OdlxaF9qCpNz6lZjz_SOPdsGIZYCiP28is1UOiRHmxODEcjhcEbyG_73R1DiPsOQioC5GX/s1600/RW-Pace-Setters.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2L3glq0YwCFXVw10Y8kepmDa8PJUUURwYvAoDkmGibOsb6cz1yiUNQFyeFJUQ7AD39d3bu2OdlxaF9qCpNz6lZjz_SOPdsGIZYCiP28is1UOiRHmxODEcjhcEbyG_73R1DiPsOQioC5GX/s640/RW-Pace-Setters.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scene from Comrades</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So as we were planning for Safari, I started investigating if and how I could get into this race. I assumed it would be a lottery for entry or a time qualifier would be necessary. Maybe the time of year wouldn’t line up with our travel plans. And who knows how long I'd need for training. Would I even have time? I actively mitigated my hopes as I reviewed this list of considerations. </span><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">The race takes place on May 31st this year, in the fall. It is also just a week after Memorial Day, which is great for our vacation day planning. So time of year fit- check!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Registration was not lottery based; it was sign up first come-first serve and was opening in a month or so. So there was a chance. All I had to do was sign up online and pay. That was a surprise, but… check! </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">And the time qualifier… to get in, one needed to run a marathon in under 5 hours between August and early May. Huh. I had Mohawk Hudson planned and hoped to possibly do Brooklyn and something in the spring. And running one under 5 hours should not be an issue for me, so yeah… check!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Finding a training plan wasn't so simple, as I'll explain later, but I found <a href="https://www.google.co.za/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0CBwQFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.runnersworld.com%2Fultramarathons%2Fthe-ultimate-ultramarathon-training-plan&ei=nIhjVYelFuKa7gbFhIGQCw&usg=AFQjCNGkc7nNyPPdZzEwanhFbduUlSc5mg&sig2=1xTdjXfbkF3ZxSHJwUYISA&bvm=bv.93990622,d.ZGU" target="_blank">this Runner's World article</a> claiming that I could pull off a 50 miler in 16 weeks(!) if I had a ready-for-marathon base already built up. At this point, I had 6 months and felt comfortable I could get to that point within the suggested time. Huh, how about that? Check!</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This could really be real, for realz.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I called Mark up to share this news with him. Though our dreamed-up adventures haven’t always materialized, I wanted to lay this all out and see what the chances were that he’d join us. I mean, this is Mark, who is known for such things. He is the master of spontaneity and surprise trips, of flexibility and craziness. It was a good chat and I got his blessing to go ahead with planning a 2015 running, even if he couldn't make it, but he would see how the next few months goes. I was happy and hopeful that there was a chance he’d come, with family in tow, as well.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Amanda and I spent a couple months planning out the details of our safari trip and what other aspects of Southern Africa we wanted to include. Victoria Falls was left out; a night in Johannesburg was added in. We made Cape Town a must and broke our safari days into two 3 night stays at two different parks. Smack dab in the middle was a stay in Durban, with a day trip- on foot, for me- to P</span>ietermaritzburg<span style="font-family: inherit;">. By early November, we finalized our itinerary, put a down payment on the trip, and I registered for Comrades.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
But wait, how am I going to train for this, my first ultra marathon event, exactly? More to come...<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-62990070855875069732013-11-29T19:59:00.000-05:002013-11-29T19:59:55.441-05:00Summer 2013 Megafuntastical: The Red Hook Marathon<br />
<i>So I did a marathon over the summer. Of swimming. In Red Hook. For a t-shirt. Here is the third and final post in the series I like to call <b>Summer 2013 Megafuntastical</b>.</i><br />
<br />
-----------------------------<br />
<br />
New York City Aquatics has been operating their outdoor pool adult lap swim summer <a href="http://www.nycgovparks.org/registration/lapswim" target="_blank">program</a> for years now. This was the first year I took advantage of it. Carla started a Facebook group page and added a bunch of us SCBkRs. I imagined visiting the pool a few times to complement my running. But then we spotted this:<br />
<br />
<i>"Participants who swim 25 miles or more over the summer will receive a free t-shirt..."</i> <br />
<br />
Tempting, but I was focused on my running and training for my A race and did not see earning that prized t-shirt as a reasonable thing to do. And then <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2013/11/summer-2013-megafuntastical-seven-week.html" target="_blank">my calf happened</a>. So the quest for the Night Owl T-Shirt began.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ_IWCiWkWjCmoiPabbSp_7xmm4drttpnTcJFkNtUQD5WRPqaKEHzY5ZJDeGNiMtIzT7as-MwMcFWuVfb33Ix_rIb9Uq0m2lvilbiqA3osMF4qMzMbD0Z-Tj86uiyH7vkujWhWM4uBW2SO/s1600/l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ_IWCiWkWjCmoiPabbSp_7xmm4drttpnTcJFkNtUQD5WRPqaKEHzY5ZJDeGNiMtIzT7as-MwMcFWuVfb33Ix_rIb9Uq0m2lvilbiqA3osMF4qMzMbD0Z-Tj86uiyH7vkujWhWM4uBW2SO/s640/l.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Hook Recreation Center: My second home for the summer</td></tr>
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Endurance fitness translates. It was demonstrated while <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2013/10/summer-2013-megafuntastical-berkshires.html" target="_blank">cycling through the Berkshires</a> in June and swimming in the Red Hook Pool in July. All the running I do translates to other activities. My first dip in the pool went for 3/4 of a mile, the second for 1.2 miles, and the third for nearly 2 miles. I got into the habit of getting to Red Hook as soon as possible after work, trying to be at the door at 6:55pm as they let the evening lap swimmers, or Night Owls as they called us, into the building. Then I'd swim until the lifeguards blew the whistle. That generally equated to about 90 minutes of swimming. Some days I'd arrive late, but still for a solid swim. It was enough to feel like I wouldn't lose much while allowing my calf to heal.<br />
<br />
As the sessions accumulated, it occurred to me that the t-shirt may actually be in reach. I started getting tingles of motivation. Twenty-five cumulative miles over the summer could mathematically be achievable for me. But maybe not everyone saw it this way for themselves. Maybe not everyone was interested in devoting so much time in the water over the summer. I wished they were. I came up with the charts because I'm a data geek. I came up with the badges to get more of my friends in the pool.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXk2bGAWYRn8oD8QJUSmmaBm49I4_Py9ps-4l8S2lHeuDDeCeAe4w_2_Zl8I0KSejTu5DcJAd376vIba0ioIc7do0BOG6rCumyKxViRGNa6mM0u2G9ska8RnajjpPrmH1yczNyRSnhL5u/s1600/quarter+mile+Red+Hook+Track.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="524" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXk2bGAWYRn8oD8QJUSmmaBm49I4_Py9ps-4l8S2lHeuDDeCeAe4w_2_Zl8I0KSejTu5DcJAd376vIba0ioIc7do0BOG6rCumyKxViRGNa6mM0u2G9ska8RnajjpPrmH1yczNyRSnhL5u/s640/quarter+mile+Red+Hook+Track.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my favorite badges. I'll be back on that track in a couple weeks</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipWwdyqI_dW24A25k7tlG4M84DQmdGBKbfLR0tP8VrMy0S9ybGZJdSfTJLjcu8sylANlBmXbeZntZfdbbJPymTGPN9HQLh4AfA2F1mZoEUpkXhdNNIliXPoDf4wwYVzN-v-D7-72hPlYoZ/s1600/half+ironman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipWwdyqI_dW24A25k7tlG4M84DQmdGBKbfLR0tP8VrMy0S9ybGZJdSfTJLjcu8sylANlBmXbeZntZfdbbJPymTGPN9HQLh4AfA2F1mZoEUpkXhdNNIliXPoDf4wwYVzN-v-D7-72hPlYoZ/s640/half+ironman.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This badge was a big deal, a real confidence booster, I think. So many earned it and are on their way to an actual half Ironman!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_EQtCwyljyfWi0Xh-uZ1i7ug_x9lmeMsjkv22eHfxqFLVPtY_K-hsHlY9_fdcNqfR27Nxv7nGaTgms4tJPlvDBgPQ2L31ptGxkrif-Q_LW096Gq9MAwvShDstYji_paULzABMGbVd4JQ5/s1600/5+Corners.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_EQtCwyljyfWi0Xh-uZ1i7ug_x9lmeMsjkv22eHfxqFLVPtY_K-hsHlY9_fdcNqfR27Nxv7nGaTgms4tJPlvDBgPQ2L31ptGxkrif-Q_LW096Gq9MAwvShDstYji_paULzABMGbVd4JQ5/s640/5+Corners.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't knock it until you've tried it.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga8aljEMnSWFbxB9Uxie2AhTJW-TtaudNXi51vbFWG8TyIxhwmZJAQ3PFpsclp6bEkCT2uETXjCIAogBpnHxBuaB0CsvlFGlRrgN7Q87Re2SuqnvzeeA0ezpFF7RS_gk2SCNlLT47zXhQg/s1600/SEXC7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga8aljEMnSWFbxB9Uxie2AhTJW-TtaudNXi51vbFWG8TyIxhwmZJAQ3PFpsclp6bEkCT2uETXjCIAogBpnHxBuaB0CsvlFGlRrgN7Q87Re2SuqnvzeeA0ezpFF7RS_gk2SCNlLT47zXhQg/s640/SEXC7.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one was a hit and many swimmers earned it</td></tr>
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It's hilarious how much fun I had with this. It seems everyone did. More than thirty of us hit the pool and twenty six participated in the lap tracking and badge earning. Why are these badges so motivating? Why was the t-shirt such a prize? I have no idea. I suppose it's the same with finisher medals at the end of races or that pretty cool hoody for the Brooklyn Marathon. Some people save their race bibs, others get tattoos commemorating their achievements. But that's not to say events without awards aren't fun. One of my favorite thing is finding small, inexpensive, medal-less events to run. Perhaps that, in and of itself, is a badge of awesomeness, too, though...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97AEzFQ_6kRbH0-yk5z_476WudMK_jhrqbnD5M3S0umar9BGNyx7DrOt_2HaMSK2gfLBGG3Ao_I2bZzsLjfqlOrymGDASA3zVeWHvsDwZRgXAgQyZQxnEH1Dam4BIKXOhUKkHOPoLe7p7/s1600/Leader+Board.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="334" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97AEzFQ_6kRbH0-yk5z_476WudMK_jhrqbnD5M3S0umar9BGNyx7DrOt_2HaMSK2gfLBGG3Ao_I2bZzsLjfqlOrymGDASA3zVeWHvsDwZRgXAgQyZQxnEH1Dam4BIKXOhUKkHOPoLe7p7/s640/Leader+Board.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just a sample of the mileage we covered</td></tr>
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As we approached the last few weeks of the summer, the pool started closing at 8pm. Because of this, my planned 90 minute sessions would be limited to 60. And where I thought I'd have plenty of time to squeeze the 25 miles in, I now saw I'd be one or two days shy, leaving me a couple miles short of 25, but more to the point, it would be a couple miles shy of that t-shirt. I wasn't having any of that. Neither was Jon. We both cut out some plans, rearranged our schedules and ducked out of work "early" to get laps in. With the fear of weather causing an issue, I left an extra day at the end.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFXwvYsEAEIKAHF1Eac7pT5yMV6MtT4PJS-QCO5PF0Z49PLog-w5RyH5nqm1h7NzCRilxrFgncQDeVdEvZK1HWzXasKbYA_89kgeik-nXpSZ7ZkxunjXDtm8S67fn6ourBYGjRg8aXhyphenhyphenFy/s1600/Goku.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFXwvYsEAEIKAHF1Eac7pT5yMV6MtT4PJS-QCO5PF0Z49PLog-w5RyH5nqm1h7NzCRilxrFgncQDeVdEvZK1HWzXasKbYA_89kgeik-nXpSZ7ZkxunjXDtm8S67fn6ourBYGjRg8aXhyphenhyphenFy/s640/Goku.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one only applied to Jon and I. I have a feeling next year more of us will earn it.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ_DsQ8oIvndX8oxGWUQBmjtHXRnlG7SVB1bfW-tyHL5SudgzYzj6O4ke1-Yf-FSsWd8TN052J71UmG06Z5xpiCPGSkhTqxZjIYCYjlllR9wCH-lrVJUjjYx8rz-Xo-xJSSbKaL-N9f-nx/s1600/Last+Day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ_DsQ8oIvndX8oxGWUQBmjtHXRnlG7SVB1bfW-tyHL5SudgzYzj6O4ke1-Yf-FSsWd8TN052J71UmG06Z5xpiCPGSkhTqxZjIYCYjlllR9wCH-lrVJUjjYx8rz-Xo-xJSSbKaL-N9f-nx/s640/Last+Day.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sun sets on the season</td></tr>
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On that last Friday of the season, I surpassed 26.2 miles. Both Jon and I earned our t-shirts, but our quest did not end there. It seems there was a end of season swimming party, where t-shirts were handed out, that we were not invited to. We had the option of either going to the NYC Aquatic headquarters in Flushing Meadows, Queens, or calling them up and asking them to transport the shirt to the borough office of our choice. We chose the latter and Jon's shirt made it safely to Brooklyn. Mine did not.<br />
<br />
From a fitness perspective, swimming saved my summer. My calf, in all its painful glory, prevented any meaningful miles on foot. September came and my running returned with a sucessful Reach the Beach Relay. It was now October, a week before what would have been my Marathon, what was now my next half marathon, and time to finally wrap up the quest the only way that seemed fit. I ran 8.7 miles to Flushing Meadows and claimed my prize. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmiq04GfnGetvbPGduRIxaLbnBugy8uJqcw-IEbcCvZEnv8I5VA8S5HFSzK0ZDtfzmBO1Sbpy1IrTC1EBv9Bj1ZtfK6JdkMBAl0XlmhNtu83Mhxh4_2Uib04Opt1gxlGKBdS_S_J-Ur6WN/s1600/IMG_6864.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmiq04GfnGetvbPGduRIxaLbnBugy8uJqcw-IEbcCvZEnv8I5VA8S5HFSzK0ZDtfzmBO1Sbpy1IrTC1EBv9Bj1ZtfK6JdkMBAl0XlmhNtu83Mhxh4_2Uib04Opt1gxlGKBdS_S_J-Ur6WN/s640/IMG_6864.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quest complete. At least for 2013...</td></tr>
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--------------------------------------------------------- <br />
<br />
"It was a summer of extra-ordinary magnitude."<br />
<br />
This statement will forever identify one distinct and amazing summer for me- the summer of 1994- which had nothing to do with swimming or running or cycling, but rather Mountain Dew, Cooler Ranch Doritos, and blacksploitation movies. It was the summer the sky opened over Rotterdam, life long friendships were forged in the fires of funk and ridiculousness and the <a href="http://fishbucket.com/discosquad/" target="_blank">Squad</a> was formed.<br />
<br />
Perhaps it's too early to say, but I'm going to say it anyways. This summer and all its megafuntasticalness will stand the test of time.runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-27727605354756512462013-11-19T00:42:00.002-05:002013-11-19T12:31:32.824-05:00Summer 2013 Megafuntastical: Seven Week Furlough<br />
<i>Wait woah woah woah... It's November and I'm not yet done rapping about a summer full of miles.
Here is the second post in the series I like to call <b>Summer 2013 Megafuntastical</b>.</i><br />
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----------------------------- <br />
<i><br /></i>
On the last day of May, I ran my<a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2013/05/on-cusp-of-200.html" target="_blank"> 200th mile</a> of the month, reaching that soft goal and still feeling healthy. I eased back my mileage in June, going instead to the bicycle for workouts, <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2013/10/summer-2013-megafuntastical-berkshires.html" target="_blank">including my Acton to Rotterdam ride with Mark</a>, feeling good about where my fitness was and how healthy I felt. But by the end of June, my calf began aching, just a bit.<br />
<br />
My calves regularly give me issues, so I didn't think too much of it. A bit of rest, a lot of rolling and stretching, and I should be able to run through it. But weeks passed and it wasn't getting better. On July 3rd I ran a 5k race that I scheduled to be my first test of the season. I was to use this result to set my workout paces for the next few weeks. It was a sloppy, rainy evening in Prospect Park and I PRed by 3 seconds. But that calf, that bloody calf, wasn't feeling so hot.<br />
<br />
I stretched and rolled, but I did not rest, still convinced that it wasn't abnormal. After a marvelous run to Coney Island with SCBkR on the Fourth of July, I scaled back, not running for seven whole days, in hopes I would heal it time for the Boilermaker. It didn't.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKq4sPdxKp9bTYcGDIMplSVEUZ58nkTRRwNau0JfOkpgFiWo56zgaA1ynwpBK8EqqCtPfiybEcQm-734vk9vCKmOwfVdQo6y-g1UwnUwxigQCsjSDMq9QR_hONWrS3cVVA4zfiTKg_mKil/s1600/IMG_6455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKq4sPdxKp9bTYcGDIMplSVEUZ58nkTRRwNau0JfOkpgFiWo56zgaA1ynwpBK8EqqCtPfiybEcQm-734vk9vCKmOwfVdQo6y-g1UwnUwxigQCsjSDMq9QR_hONWrS3cVVA4zfiTKg_mKil/s640/IMG_6455.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mid ride fueling on our way back from Nyack</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIop240bHBmvs61KJ7ZaXNxmBBXtOC7DxKW4N_jus6AvGKpy4qMw56UWh3yb-7mf1nVD8i0qti5SFnr82WMHmyuC7cs6hWJZiQ70cJIdSIBqxIIGTN7FlNG7bCQOuHQeqDBmGiDVG0q7WV/s1600/1016560_10200892643212563_1744087111_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIop240bHBmvs61KJ7ZaXNxmBBXtOC7DxKW4N_jus6AvGKpy4qMw56UWh3yb-7mf1nVD8i0qti5SFnr82WMHmyuC7cs6hWJZiQ70cJIdSIBqxIIGTN7FlNG7bCQOuHQeqDBmGiDVG0q7WV/s640/1016560_10200892643212563_1744087111_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SCBkR gathers for a Fourth of July run</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjZPxnmp1A5CbCCQ5uvGIp6R32ujtiywLbYIfK8BOLpj7c9evrG3ps3-MiwfqoM44yB9-2VtuuJjpzjj3YR5-6f2DXu5jH62VzKhHeFpDc8mslPkNhNBBX1OT_eSWASM37Y9_5l1kCUvLC/s1600/IMG_6189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjZPxnmp1A5CbCCQ5uvGIp6R32ujtiywLbYIfK8BOLpj7c9evrG3ps3-MiwfqoM44yB9-2VtuuJjpzjj3YR5-6f2DXu5jH62VzKhHeFpDc8mslPkNhNBBX1OT_eSWASM37Y9_5l1kCUvLC/s640/IMG_6189.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SCBkR on the Coney Island boardwalk on the Fourth of July</td></tr>
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<br />
So comes the question, "Why do I train?"<br />
<br />
It's obvious that running the Boilermaker at this point will just make things worse. I need more than a scale back; I need to lay off running for a bit. If I skip the Boilermaker, I will already be 7 days into the healing. But if I run, well, I forfeit that week and will need to start all over again. It was time to measure priorities- my A event of the season/year or this super fun 15k that I want to run every year for the rest of my life. I chose the Boilermaker, and subsequently, to be sidelined for two weeks.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-iYcO468gWbWyuBFHWwAaTLG6094F7Q2h-33HdsZaUZSRsrKV1QWMRrDLH-YkezEssSBnNnD2up91dOvWUecSqQvh-wyufYPIsldQEYvZzWmMW9QZVxXViAANcq7PqKIttFummEWAIxrO/s1600/IMG_6344.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-iYcO468gWbWyuBFHWwAaTLG6094F7Q2h-33HdsZaUZSRsrKV1QWMRrDLH-YkezEssSBnNnD2up91dOvWUecSqQvh-wyufYPIsldQEYvZzWmMW9QZVxXViAANcq7PqKIttFummEWAIxrO/s640/IMG_6344.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SCBkR... Warriors... TNT... or TIT... we represent!</td></tr>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-nhKdn8cNgeoXGV8LxjhjMWLj5WS1Bef50vp7dykMYiPuNWXkdkYaGsdMC0cVMPciZ5VLuZcfIwxG7sYLXcdYg56M6TrdMIVF1KepFiMMIGnY0AsvMsqyJaVVV4N844nQGYt2-opyzW5t/s1600/IMG_6350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-nhKdn8cNgeoXGV8LxjhjMWLj5WS1Bef50vp7dykMYiPuNWXkdkYaGsdMC0cVMPciZ5VLuZcfIwxG7sYLXcdYg56M6TrdMIVF1KepFiMMIGnY0AsvMsqyJaVVV4N844nQGYt2-opyzW5t/s640/IMG_6350.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rendezvous with Ed, Kait and the Closes once again</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixodixg88A_QM9nqEAzx1gkfpUjjWt_N0mYdVa33dMCeQxeiODhoAWZIBC3cEgCO2t1TAcbGsaTzBZoCT5ZOaamj_SNxNvZlM6rLHUMWNjIj5BVdPbfLq9b5SdhUjOcqo_lrjZJ9Dpb9Jq/s1600/992911_10100974932359646_1184714489_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixodixg88A_QM9nqEAzx1gkfpUjjWt_N0mYdVa33dMCeQxeiODhoAWZIBC3cEgCO2t1TAcbGsaTzBZoCT5ZOaamj_SNxNvZlM6rLHUMWNjIj5BVdPbfLq9b5SdhUjOcqo_lrjZJ9Dpb9Jq/s640/992911_10100974932359646_1184714489_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pool Party hosted by Kristen's family (yes, my friends are hot).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbKBTQUuARSosLfX-_cOsEnsYzDn0SBUWw1oNSlgYHfmhpc85Lhu3ZOjItVjbhDmPml2jfiWNVphbHzfsAnl_RUH-o1tiY6g1c2xhmB5xfQjZF4zkRiGFf1Oupx1-CrClNzaOqAfedb2WM/s1600/IMG_6336.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbKBTQUuARSosLfX-_cOsEnsYzDn0SBUWw1oNSlgYHfmhpc85Lhu3ZOjItVjbhDmPml2jfiWNVphbHzfsAnl_RUH-o1tiY6g1c2xhmB5xfQjZF4zkRiGFf1Oupx1-CrClNzaOqAfedb2WM/s640/IMG_6336.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RonFire!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Ha ha... I wish it was only two weeks...<br />
<br />
Those fourteen days passed, and though I did test the calf on a couple very short runs, the real test came on a 10 mile jaunt with Amanda in Lake Placid. We were up in the Adirondacks camping and cheering on the Ironman event, volunteering, swimming and cycling, and having a blast. But that run did not go well. We took off from the village and out onto the course, watching the athletes cycle their 112 miles. The calf hurt pretty much from the start. I should have stopped. I was naively hopeful, which is ridiculous since I am no novice and this isn't the first time my calf has felt this way. At the end of the run, I "iced" my legs in Mirror Lake, drank beer, ate a burger, and enjoyed the rest of the day.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjot8EzhttSdpresttrtGRTyhbdkcZh0q7EmzFnZIBAjpCfmxFMxi-4QmxYT-N4iuIh4Zj60I2vaHBu9v2mF3fW2s6aJuGxnoUQHBJdH1kRFwHFTQKgJ8YKlL9DkwdD59K6Cplh6FCbjcBq/s1600/IMG_6434.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjot8EzhttSdpresttrtGRTyhbdkcZh0q7EmzFnZIBAjpCfmxFMxi-4QmxYT-N4iuIh4Zj60I2vaHBu9v2mF3fW2s6aJuGxnoUQHBJdH1kRFwHFTQKgJ8YKlL9DkwdD59K6Cplh6FCbjcBq/s640/IMG_6434.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biking the IM course with Jon</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxfhFT7t4DQC2RuBHw4yf2qMArK0PsL0MT4FaLCD_-KL4K9aP1p7Jiw2Dz-xRUV7hRO4rgRMZCBIuzw-SC0Iym1Cj43CALgUioGovM3PREisT__MoNDUqE_WMxb7f9ZaMy5kLk197eLtai/s1600/556664_10100997400263786_1890951078_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxfhFT7t4DQC2RuBHw4yf2qMArK0PsL0MT4FaLCD_-KL4K9aP1p7Jiw2Dz-xRUV7hRO4rgRMZCBIuzw-SC0Iym1Cj43CALgUioGovM3PREisT__MoNDUqE_WMxb7f9ZaMy5kLk197eLtai/s640/556664_10100997400263786_1890951078_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last shift of the race, fueling and hydrating the athletes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphenmD7aGMLEfCFlrWNL3QXiCcSTSsbmZBqEDrwGaGonHVlzS181hCXyetowmOiwo7zsq8-03n3JCYmS7z33ZbENxkMFftB0KvBI8yJ8OA7QXe8BsU7R5v0MljD1SbvCTGCAMbWH-dMKiiP/s1600/1091090_10201065117324308_1174381582_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphenmD7aGMLEfCFlrWNL3QXiCcSTSsbmZBqEDrwGaGonHVlzS181hCXyetowmOiwo7zsq8-03n3JCYmS7z33ZbENxkMFftB0KvBI8yJ8OA7QXe8BsU7R5v0MljD1SbvCTGCAMbWH-dMKiiP/s640/1091090_10201065117324308_1174381582_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cross Training: wading, floating, laughing and drinking</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Two days later, I tested it again with a quick 6.2 miles along the Mohawk River bike path with no better result. It honestly felt no better than it did over two weeks prior. It was disheartening. I let seven days pass before my next run of just 1.2 miles, which still felt bad. So I stayed off the road for seven more days. How many weeks is that? We were now in to August.<br />
<br />
Finally feeling good and still holding on to the hope that I could prepare myself into to run the Mohawk Hudson River Marathon in October, a started running again. But by the third day, the calf started aching again. By the end of the fourth day, I had to face the cold hard truth: I was back at square one again.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtJFNUXFZKlVP9JEhc31SJMKGfuKtmrHMPlDUrhqpR1kW4xH9UuF5Rbo5NuC1G6jEEut7nHOQLevUGiks6HXmMpPWJ-Xx3_21pL0SOpNlh9vAolAXz1cI4e5PzUTqP0wrCte8JAIzLxuiw/s1600/IMG_6490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtJFNUXFZKlVP9JEhc31SJMKGfuKtmrHMPlDUrhqpR1kW4xH9UuF5Rbo5NuC1G6jEEut7nHOQLevUGiks6HXmMpPWJ-Xx3_21pL0SOpNlh9vAolAXz1cI4e5PzUTqP0wrCte8JAIzLxuiw/s640/IMG_6490.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cross Training: Roofing</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO2JfsTfWVDJS5iokB-uUtkOHdyMojfljOqL1zc0bx-7FH1faPJhXusiKPTB28e8WF7dLWQ6P4rZaOTkx-9xdwigYRoSUX_GcRL0mn-URTCtmSuJSwF3PnXCFDZohELngAP7gjmAdvhoCL/s1600/1235251_10201249845702402_1820667595_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO2JfsTfWVDJS5iokB-uUtkOHdyMojfljOqL1zc0bx-7FH1faPJhXusiKPTB28e8WF7dLWQ6P4rZaOTkx-9xdwigYRoSUX_GcRL0mn-URTCtmSuJSwF3PnXCFDZohELngAP7gjmAdvhoCL/s640/1235251_10201249845702402_1820667595_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cross Training: Fist pumping</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6kIEQQn8EYntMaRU5-Bma7YAMUteDY3-QIoIiSYbRuTKrt0inrJSE7ogYTuelQTjNKbzXDQKS9NJtcQIDEOiG8vHQFfZyvY-Wwld_ox_mqq1t1HOeQhBVd7rpHmJABMB7K9jPX0tjU_dC/s1600/1236608_10101052865930146_1807314125_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6kIEQQn8EYntMaRU5-Bma7YAMUteDY3-QIoIiSYbRuTKrt0inrJSE7ogYTuelQTjNKbzXDQKS9NJtcQIDEOiG8vHQFfZyvY-Wwld_ox_mqq1t1HOeQhBVd7rpHmJABMB7K9jPX0tjU_dC/s640/1236608_10101052865930146_1807314125_n.jpg" width="393" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cross Training: Hula hooping</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
More than a month had passed since the Boilermaker and by this time I was questioning whether to drop to the half marathon or defer completely until next year. My focus turned from that event- my planned A event of 2013- to getting healthy in time to participate in my seventh Reach the Beach relay.<br />
<br />
I rested ten more days, then built back at a rate that seemed ridiculously slow. It was a conversation with Amanda that convinced me to try that. A healthy me would consider my normal 5.3 mile to-the-park-around-and-back route a short run. But I kept my distances around 2-3 miles. It worked. On September 8th, I formally switched to the Mohawk Hudson Half Marathon. And on the 12th, I headed to New Hampshire with the Warriors once more.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrGOgx3_kXfLPpB3wMEVMWOZhuQkwZazW9sA3o4YE5315ppInPmWwMBNDX_NjCRR_Vq-V6StNJ3UkIpbxOsKfci3KWMFGHAjZpuC-0qqvTlqzBPm2j58QJPI7Rv9B2uD13LgcC_CmoVneh/s1600/IMG_6596.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrGOgx3_kXfLPpB3wMEVMWOZhuQkwZazW9sA3o4YE5315ppInPmWwMBNDX_NjCRR_Vq-V6StNJ3UkIpbxOsKfci3KWMFGHAjZpuC-0qqvTlqzBPm2j58QJPI7Rv9B2uD13LgcC_CmoVneh/s640/IMG_6596.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cross Training: Jumpshots</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxoYs9iBJk-OaQJeA0Qa2ixsNwK4PUC4Rou3XXZcP07K6moEfITDpBx7WPhQi6xHoGjCpOXeBi3Qz9d-s5fAZcyfa7Njzf5fR1355bkyL3XE4qmw-8gnzVki8_fADQnUlnxMFGoQSS07Vb/s1600/IMG_6602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxoYs9iBJk-OaQJeA0Qa2ixsNwK4PUC4Rou3XXZcP07K6moEfITDpBx7WPhQi6xHoGjCpOXeBi3Qz9d-s5fAZcyfa7Njzf5fR1355bkyL3XE4qmw-8gnzVki8_fADQnUlnxMFGoQSS07Vb/s640/IMG_6602.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cross Training: Baby holding</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Had I gone to a doctor in any of this time? Physical therapy? No and
no. I visited <a href="http://lesliemassage.com/" target="_blank">Leslie</a> and am convinced her magic hands helped, but it
was clear massage alone wasn't going to do it. Still, I did not go to a doctor and the weeks rolled by. I know I send runners to doctors all the time. But I seldom go myself. I've just never gotten useful information from one regarding a running injury before. That's not to say you'll find the same result (and if I recommend that you visit a doctor, please believe that I think it's best for you).<br />
<br />
Here are my thoughts on doctor visits. For the type of pain I was feeling, I believe the only thing they could do is confirm how long I should not run for. If it was a strain or a sprain or even a stress fracture, they would have given me a time range, probably in weekly units, for how long it would bother me and how long I should not be running. They may be able to tell me the thing that hurts- the soleus or posterior tibial tendon or whatever, but not necessarily what caused it. A visit to the doctor would not speed up my recovery.<br />
<br />
Being smart and disciplined would speed up my recovery- and prevent injury. That's what I still need to work on. It amazes me that I'm still trap myself like this. So to be proactive, I will start taking more detailed logs of my runs, specifically noting if anything ached or felt off. And when I do declare an injury, I will log its recovery- another idea I credit to Amanda.<br />
<br />
I'm happy to say that my calf is now ok and I'm ramping up for another go at a marathon. I share my frustration with you through the words above, but hopefully you see what fun I had regardless, through the photos. And in my next blog entry, which I swear will come sooner rather than later, I will tell you how swimming saved me.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYdQOt5E3xyweSWa4owkqFthplFt8fzAGqYUUP8XTSiwVfpgf97z9AHwNFAmD9vN3FO-fBfCKDOA2sgwZV6_gClf7KLIV4UWQBzTfrGy0MRW4suOUiu648X4n1SigiR9pPxRfcaeXg4Ic7/s1600/last+night.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="409" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYdQOt5E3xyweSWa4owkqFthplFt8fzAGqYUUP8XTSiwVfpgf97z9AHwNFAmD9vN3FO-fBfCKDOA2sgwZV6_gClf7KLIV4UWQBzTfrGy0MRW4suOUiu648X4n1SigiR9pPxRfcaeXg4Ic7/s640/last+night.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cross Training: The Red Hook Pool</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-72494054408259421502013-10-14T16:05:00.001-04:002013-11-19T01:01:48.849-05:00Summer 2013 Megafuntastical: Berkshires Tres Veces<i>I've been absent from this blog because of a summer that has been just too much fun. Now well into autumn, it is time to catch up a bit. Here is the first post in the series I like to call <b>Summer 2013 Megafuntastical</b>.</i>
<br />
--------------------------------------------------------<br />
I love how the thread of life bunches up, sending me to
the Berkhsires tres veces in less than a month. It’s as though life writes its own
narrative, twisting and turning, falling and climbing, and I am but the transcriber.<br />
<br />
<b>Going Rogue</b><br />
<br />
Memorial Day Weekend came and after months of preparation, on the road, in the trails,
and on a few excel spreadsheets, the team headed for the hills of
Berkshires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thirty six of us (or so)
drove a few hours in the rain so that we could run in the rain, cheer in the
rain, stand in the rain, and play drinking games indoors.<br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The trail was muddy and wet. The hills were steep and forced lots of walking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I started toward the middle, which may have been a mistake. My intention was to race, but I was stuck behind a few folks as the course funneled onto a single file trail in the woods. Luckily the runners were courteous and let me pass where possible.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">The terrain was rough in some parts, the trail consisting of jagged rocks. And I saw people in nothing but Vibrams. I was pretty close to wearing my Merrell Trail Gloves and was thankful that I did not. I settled on the Merrell Mix Masters which served fairly well. I'm still not convinced about the upper, but the toe box and sole feel great. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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I came close to falling numerous times, almost tripping or rolling my ankle, but managed to stay on my feet. Some teammates weren't so fortunate, arriving bloodied at the finish line- but with smiles, too, which I loved seeing. Throughout my run, other than my own survival and fun time, I was thinking of the team which we trained for this day. We took them to some pretty challenging trails in preparation, and I think that may have scared a few of them. The thing they hadn't experienced was the rain. I hoped they weren't hating life up in the hills. More than that, I was wishing they were loving it. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC1s8Qbj7cPnAh6_Bcw79P9MlmVejqTU1qKVlUbz4PGwyy6VZ5foQpZ_wRIIh_E3YIY9Zpi31WLEfk_qny0hk9lSD8-cEsREc4cgek9HNGlGFVhIEQZAkYjZvQTTJ_qCI3weuhjWXFG4ES/s1600/978022_10100908393239576_650395091_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC1s8Qbj7cPnAh6_Bcw79P9MlmVejqTU1qKVlUbz4PGwyy6VZ5foQpZ_wRIIh_E3YIY9Zpi31WLEfk_qny0hk9lSD8-cEsREc4cgek9HNGlGFVhIEQZAkYjZvQTTJ_qCI3weuhjWXFG4ES/s640/978022_10100908393239576_650395091_o.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't run with a camera, but one can always count on <a href="http://www.rljart.com/blog/" target="_blank">Rachel</a> for pics.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Why do I love trail runs? They're honest and unforgiving. To survive, much more than a road race, a runner has to yield to the terrain, taking only what it will give. There is need to anticipate each step, to be present and mindful. In a way, a runner becomes one with the trail and in this way can really get to know his/herself.<br />
<br />
There's talk of us doing this again as the Rogue Alumni event for Summer 2014. That chatter has me a little bit excited. No lie.<br />
<br />
<b>The Union</b><br />
<br />
My Guatemalan family arrived while I was away for the team's rogue event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We spent the week in Brooklyn and I juggled work, running, and family as best I could. There simply weren't enough hours in the day. But on Friday, May 31st at approximately 10:41PM I crossed the 200 miles threshold for the month. A few
days later I was back in the Berkshires for my brother’s wedding.<br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I had been wanting to get back on the bike for
weeks. This was my first ride since
September. I left with a vague plan of tackling about 30 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>48 miles later, I had visited Vermont for ice cream and a cider donut, climbed a bunch of hills, and
made my ass really sore. I mean, really sore. It was great. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh6wAE_e2dLd_52NBBkTHehDn1suYtsy6KD7T8Ycpe0qpErEwbGyeuVmJdYQG__A2d-A6S7h6OSp_eU2Iye-58WYYj7eACv564xQBafvCCAdI-SYXXOxdeRNH00IbLmeZwucK04qRij4JW/s1600/IMG_5451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh6wAE_e2dLd_52NBBkTHehDn1suYtsy6KD7T8Ycpe0qpErEwbGyeuVmJdYQG__A2d-A6S7h6OSp_eU2Iye-58WYYj7eACv564xQBafvCCAdI-SYXXOxdeRNH00IbLmeZwucK04qRij4JW/s640/IMG_5451.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Berkshires: Great landscape for a ride. Great views.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_HwILPZGHQOLKwy6wZmuS8PBvn9AXDvD0rk6vKe-c-9OPe3vBePkInDCGnbVhuCs1OlTqGxdtvzIdRVI25Se5IhA1LQ9ilGS8hli7bXv6Gpm4USq7_GM22px6XT_1x1vRa48IK9gxXlRG/s1600/IMG_5453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_HwILPZGHQOLKwy6wZmuS8PBvn9AXDvD0rk6vKe-c-9OPe3vBePkInDCGnbVhuCs1OlTqGxdtvzIdRVI25Se5IhA1LQ9ilGS8hli7bXv6Gpm4USq7_GM22px6XT_1x1vRa48IK9gxXlRG/s640/IMG_5453.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entering Vermont. On the hunt for ice cream.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBrDQmHvMinBLmCnV7WpTtSgpFb9F9lk5BBnBc7e2G1z-B698WGG-MzZp-H6-RXw4V0VG_8uPEKL0_5m2fBi1BkucctFPxbA2fgxQzlP_xei-Boj77E6pByHjLxKPkExz40Q5k5Qn4fEcU/s1600/IMG_5460.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBrDQmHvMinBLmCnV7WpTtSgpFb9F9lk5BBnBc7e2G1z-B698WGG-MzZp-H6-RXw4V0VG_8uPEKL0_5m2fBi1BkucctFPxbA2fgxQzlP_xei-Boj77E6pByHjLxKPkExz40Q5k5Qn4fEcU/s640/IMG_5460.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Assuming "biker" also includes "cyclist". Because we badass.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
On Wednesday, I was looking to run about 10 miles. Not wanting to do an
out and back, I searched for a loop on the country roads available to me and found a 12 mile loop that included a somewhat aggressive elevation climb. I realized as I got ready to leave that I forgot my water bottle which is kind of a drag for a 12 mile run, but felt I would be just on the inside of my dehydration range and would be fine. But whoops, I<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> g</span>ot lost and did 15 miles. That run kinda sucked at the end.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrIUrIbQ_xirvIgbBMHIwV_81UnVy0BM_MfpLgZax_1VNuxmCyXf2C2NCx1TcPHDnuXM3_gPsqoGrUU9zhoJg4GYsmmmVRIZ7YX4pLBXm79YHqqnuyHk_0eb_lcEEOPF6b_ZyTdgN2WzGc/s1600/IMG_5497.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrIUrIbQ_xirvIgbBMHIwV_81UnVy0BM_MfpLgZax_1VNuxmCyXf2C2NCx1TcPHDnuXM3_gPsqoGrUU9zhoJg4GYsmmmVRIZ7YX4pLBXm79YHqqnuyHk_0eb_lcEEOPF6b_ZyTdgN2WzGc/s640/IMG_5497.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roads? Where we're going, we don't need roads...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">In the middle, though, it kinda ruled. I ended up hitting the trails for a second time in the Berkshires, parts of which reminded me of Scotland. And On the easier parts if this run, when I could think, I outlined the speech that I was going to give at my brother's wedding the next day. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6dYOhO5ICXrkV-Lr3qrr7ZU0ovVxklcJKCgdg3fqTjJcVeWlaqz7NQK_6G4nlFyM5X1U12SYD20c8w6BvaGn8oDL2h4DJsQigLlTkFqKCK5uFFvjkdBLkdNAG9nuhfG1xSzXPRutMvT3p/s1600/IMG_5499.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6dYOhO5ICXrkV-Lr3qrr7ZU0ovVxklcJKCgdg3fqTjJcVeWlaqz7NQK_6G4nlFyM5X1U12SYD20c8w6BvaGn8oDL2h4DJsQigLlTkFqKCK5uFFvjkdBLkdNAG9nuhfG1xSzXPRutMvT3p/s640/IMG_5499.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture doesn't do it justice. So green.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr7Wpg9Yyn-UEQUPUKy-ofUMNMY4Jcf_WbcfBGGyAU62H9d7Z-TZfHYR-Lq_cwh3h12Kxtm4-Y_vMScthVZ7es7OZWMIJO8hQa50WJHUVpTuANkgchFGvbaQKRo-qpHE73eOW_F9zlQEtn/s1600/IMG_5503.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr7Wpg9Yyn-UEQUPUKy-ofUMNMY4Jcf_WbcfBGGyAU62H9d7Z-TZfHYR-Lq_cwh3h12Kxtm4-Y_vMScthVZ7es7OZWMIJO8hQa50WJHUVpTuANkgchFGvbaQKRo-qpHE73eOW_F9zlQEtn/s640/IMG_5503.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the top.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Father’s Day Ride</b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Mark and I had been trying to make plans to train together all spring, but our fairly busy schedules never quite lined up. After he suggested a weekend of training near his home in eastern Massachusetts, for some reason I
suggested we ride from his house to Rotterdam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Well, I know why I did. I wanted to spend father's day with him *and* my dad and this seemed like to logical solution. As things played out, it became apparent that my dad wasn't going to be in Rotterdam. He was going to be in Brooklyn that day, ironically, in my apartment.</span><br />
<br />
We stuck with the plan, though, and surprised Mark's mom in Rotterdam on Saturday instead, and I got back to Brooklyn to visit with my dad on Sunday. Though it rained right up to the minute we started, the clouds broke and we saw nothing but sunshine from then on out.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWLNv2_YW3ZZQORKUHgMR5DkfmxpKPqyh8ensUqwEt2apodBK6_e56ONHPIS6qPo3-IbWy1nMxDQj9vI8rVIokzyyotTWYiPs7RV9teqcxoNTR4zMj1X2X504N3uDzaWl2wYv16NYI-5ov/s1600/IMG_5898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWLNv2_YW3ZZQORKUHgMR5DkfmxpKPqyh8ensUqwEt2apodBK6_e56ONHPIS6qPo3-IbWy1nMxDQj9vI8rVIokzyyotTWYiPs7RV9teqcxoNTR4zMj1X2X504N3uDzaWl2wYv16NYI-5ov/s640/IMG_5898.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Psyched to get started!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzl2FBy169TAJVJyoEdRSJdrFaCP9IuG5Kc7t5iV5HzczV7U1EelvXJdF-kZEDIyX5-O0bGvLmUZ_EJ1XuD_Y6G2eiFVlwwUEF4WHlLA9tIEHSrXCLHF1w3-3ctx3f_aSkjw7BCxMST8a7/s1600/IMG_5951.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzl2FBy169TAJVJyoEdRSJdrFaCP9IuG5Kc7t5iV5HzczV7U1EelvXJdF-kZEDIyX5-O0bGvLmUZ_EJ1XuD_Y6G2eiFVlwwUEF4WHlLA9tIEHSrXCLHF1w3-3ctx3f_aSkjw7BCxMST8a7/s640/IMG_5951.PNG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day One</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTn2xyu25mwKjSC0Z5kNx6SYn3hm7kGJqj8lVXvk4qaUmdPhBSg3Fg-QWENQWlQHxU0jVmPFekUyHSaDEDTtlmiIFTPn70af2Zr5AWtxV3XC8flreRada7sVM6Mlr39yRYu-HlQXS6n_MV/s1600/IMG_6008.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTn2xyu25mwKjSC0Z5kNx6SYn3hm7kGJqj8lVXvk4qaUmdPhBSg3Fg-QWENQWlQHxU0jVmPFekUyHSaDEDTtlmiIFTPn70af2Zr5AWtxV3XC8flreRada7sVM6Mlr39yRYu-HlQXS6n_MV/s640/IMG_6008.PNG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day Two</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6nri1hXQDBjCzeBIupsYCYudCUzjM_19GVN-pOVUhxLq_C4BWBTbdJBeFPAYbMhTIZKZ1FpEbL9jc5kmDx9BxLv_u47TBqDLIU1idQsOGZIAdnRujypooiS3g3QgoK-6Ij3X6Yruxdlmh/s1600/IMG_6011.PNG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6nri1hXQDBjCzeBIupsYCYudCUzjM_19GVN-pOVUhxLq_C4BWBTbdJBeFPAYbMhTIZKZ1FpEbL9jc5kmDx9BxLv_u47TBqDLIU1idQsOGZIAdnRujypooiS3g3QgoK-6Ij3X6Yruxdlmh/s640/IMG_6011.PNG.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ride Statistics</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><a href="https://plus.google.com/photos/112883216535207509832/albums/5890267265728237617?authkey=CIXynvuzsYiZKg" target="_blank">More Photos Here</a></b> </div>
<br />
The trip spanned 178 miles over two days with an overnight stay in Northampton. I made it a point to have us stop in Amherst for some Antonio's Pizza. The ride was quite manageable, even though I hadn't trained for this. I moved along at a fairly slow pace and Mark was patient with me. The hills were no joke, but it was a beautiful ride. This touring trip with the overnight stay was great fun. And it made me miss being on a bike.<br />
<br />
And seeds of doing another Ironman were planted... </div>
<br />
<br />runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-7242035074158437852013-05-23T17:40:00.000-04:002013-05-23T20:19:28.083-04:00On the Cusp of 200I've pushed my legs hard, pulling back when I thought I needed to. This month, I topped 50 miles in a week once and 40 miles twice. Feeling good about the base I've built, I started to wonder if May would be my highest mileage month ever. So I looked back.<br>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZw2uRr9TvkHhPatp2ijJEUgf2ZbW7DFDR2WoZnDUs_qq5RKbAFF-FKBqLBfD0U16QF5V-6bt1MG01N7s9ff8ZbYJMg0NhyzRaEKuSjSnd05L3EsqzFKPSwV1rNAbE8ifbqOAVjkaLVR0/s1600/File0024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZw2uRr9TvkHhPatp2ijJEUgf2ZbW7DFDR2WoZnDUs_qq5RKbAFF-FKBqLBfD0U16QF5V-6bt1MG01N7s9ff8ZbYJMg0NhyzRaEKuSjSnd05L3EsqzFKPSwV1rNAbE8ifbqOAVjkaLVR0/s400/File0024.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My father, grandmother, and me back in the 70s. It was also Christmastime.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br>
Sunday, while visiting my grandmother's grave, I naturally thought about her funeral about 6 years ago. Kim was with me- my significant other at the time and the wonderful individual who introduced me to running. I'd only been running for maybe 15 months. Back then, I didn't log mileage or geek out over shoes. But I'm certain my May total has surpassed anything I had done to that date.<br>
<br>
I hit the Minuteman Trailway later that afternoon and headed east. It brought back memories of runs of the past. I did my first ever 18 mile run on this trail, with Mark riding his bike along side me. That was 2006, and I was in town to visit my grandmother for her birthday- the last we would celebrate together- and I was 4 months into training for my first marathon and TNT event.<br>
<br>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhugQLdK1nYdGVGdn3GmHzMb5efYoOKDWkt4wCnM1b91WGgdSan-gAar80Csbl9de4vZpC50ldJmhqn81dqXmDPV2HNCYk73SFrLx7LLO8iROVQmPv_aIlxAXxrJsfqG5d_uISifpAE5zXz/s1600/CIMG0062-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhugQLdK1nYdGVGdn3GmHzMb5efYoOKDWkt4wCnM1b91WGgdSan-gAar80Csbl9de4vZpC50ldJmhqn81dqXmDPV2HNCYk73SFrLx7LLO8iROVQmPv_aIlxAXxrJsfqG5d_uISifpAE5zXz/s400/CIMG0062-001.JPG" width="400"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kim and me in Alaska, 2006. First marathon and first Team in Training event.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br>
When I reached the end of the Minuteman Trailway, I headed toward the Charles River. Apparently Memorial Drive along the river is closed off to car traffic on Sundays, leaving it open for pedestrians. This was part of the May 2009 Race to Remember Half Marathon that I ran with my Warrior-mates. It was my first half going solo, and while I did love running with Kim, it was quite meaningful to be able to find a new independent identity in my running. It was somewhat symbolic, perhaps, of my life at the time, transitioning to a new life and a new me. This was the year I returned to TNT as well.<br>
<br>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd8D9zFpBzsYwcRsf9x4PRG5lDbSKvrZPMCig6Bs0_my-yLL1785Ghk8m97fRTTYT5KrfBIXYLdP0pLUGj8-QWGnzBH_EFV1WMoaCFX5ttIAxKiNaDALNt9XCwJdnkwf8Q-EUI6UlvxGhd/s1600/IMG_5047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd8D9zFpBzsYwcRsf9x4PRG5lDbSKvrZPMCig6Bs0_my-yLL1785Ghk8m97fRTTYT5KrfBIXYLdP0pLUGj8-QWGnzBH_EFV1WMoaCFX5ttIAxKiNaDALNt9XCwJdnkwf8Q-EUI6UlvxGhd/s400/IMG_5047.JPG" width="400"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charles on the left, Memorial Drive on the right, goslings in the middle.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Before Sunday's the run, May's total sat in thirteenth place as far as mileage is concerned, right after August 2009, which my have been my only <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2009/08/midnight-runs.html" target="_blank">healthy running month of a frustrating fall season</a>, and right before March 2012, during my ramp up to Ironman fitness levels and just prior to a rather stressful April which included the end of my 13 month relationship with Emily and somehow injuring myself with <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2012/05/turf-toe.html" target="_blank">turf toe</a>. By the end of the 19 mile run through these Boston suburbs, May 2013 was seventh on the list, ahead of August 2011, the point at which my switch to <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2011/08/midsole-searching-part-ii.html" target="_blank">midsole search</a> was coming to fruition, and behind this past March.<br>
<br>
Wow. This past March ranks in the top 10. As does April. And here comes May.<br>
<br>
May is currently sitting in fourth place. The months ahead are all from the <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2010/09/40-50.html" target="_blank">glorious fall 2010 season of training</a>. That season has been in my mind, a target for me to reach- no - surpass. I've definitely approached things differently this time around, slowly building a hardy base. I'm still building that base and have only introduced pure speed and strength work into my routine a couple times so far. Still, I know I'm not yet as fast, but I can feel the progress. And after the Berkshire Trail 15k this weekend, hills, weights and speed, (oh my!) will become the focus. I expect my mileage to drop in June because of this (and the 180 mile bike ride Mark and I have planned), which is fine. High mileage has always just been a means to the end- that end being fast times.<br>
<br>
With nine days left, I am 56.4 miles shy of 200. Will I make it? My calendar says yes. But I will listen to my body and do the right thing. I will not over train just to hit this arbitrary number. runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-86564544469679906312013-05-08T11:05:00.000-04:002013-05-08T11:05:38.229-04:00I Don't Waffle. I Eat Them.My second test of the year came with a little bit of fanfare. Despite finishing 87 seconds slower than my 5k PR, I finished first in my age group and 8th overall out in <a href="http://www.countryrun.us/index.htm#" target="_blank">Clinton Township</a>. It helped that the faster runners ran the 15k instead. And it was a small field. Still, I'll take the little medal and the sub 7:00/mi pace and move on to the next.<br />
<br />
My pacing was pretty good on this somewhat hilly course, as it was during my latest half marathon and that's encouraging to me. I'm going to line up more 5k tests. Because of their shorter distance, I'm able to test myself more frequently and (hopefully) see progress sooner. Something around Father's Day would work out best, I think. And I can sign my parents up, too.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhciFQRPG4jNEAk3vn2bOD6vaEACRIXU4LjSDSOJAt8ev7ZUV93KGN5q05sp9wuxubWvgVRFknYyNQVIRcSZfWOlKR5tBVtLQ4E2cDvSTEwZsKR5sBWMq7OgQbQ0XnLOFY2o4geLY62IFK3/s1600/IMG_4722.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhciFQRPG4jNEAk3vn2bOD6vaEACRIXU4LjSDSOJAt8ev7ZUV93KGN5q05sp9wuxubWvgVRFknYyNQVIRcSZfWOlKR5tBVtLQ4E2cDvSTEwZsKR5sBWMq7OgQbQ0XnLOFY2o4geLY62IFK3/s400/IMG_4722.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">8th out of 186 ain't bad. But I want faster.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It's May already and I had imagined being faster than this by now. Building this base has been a slower process than I expected. Adding to the delay was a stubborn series of colds that just wouldn't let up around the end of March. That killed my training momentum. And I've had to avoid the gym and my love of free weights because of some issues with my back that <a href="http://lesliemassage.com/" target="_blank">Leslie</a> is working on. Can you believe it? Two visits and she didn't even touch my legs because if the mess that was my back. So my upper body and core are lacking in strength, too. <br />
<br />
But it would seem I'm back on track.<br />
<br />
I've gotten a lot of miles in on my <i>urban commute</i> workouts. They are exactly what they sound like and I normally do them at a pretty fast click. I like to think of them as fartleks or cruise intervals. Sometimes I have to slow down because of pedestrian traffic and sometimes I have to come to a complete stop because of car traffic. But when I can let loose and go, I do, like on the Manhattan Bridge on my way home or though Harlem on the way to Yankee Stadium for a game. Ranging 6 to 7 miles, they've been great to integrate even more into my workout routine.<br />
<br />
I've been seeing progress in my long runs, specifically my *bad* long runs. A bad long run I did last week where I felt sore and sluggish and where my bowels weren't cooperating translated to an 8:43 pace over 16 miles. A few weeks ago, that would have more likely been a 9:30+ pace. I'm sure my fitness plays a part, but specifically, I'm feeling more efficient with my form. I'm able to hold it longer and easier, staying relaxed throughout, sometimes even getting more relaxed as the run progresses. A good 16 miler translated to an 8:30 pace two weeks ago. Both these runs were done at effort level 2.5ish out of 5 on average. I will need a good long run at this effort level to equate to a 7:45ish (or less, hopefully) pace to get to a sub 3-hour marathon.<br />
<br />
On a 12 mile urban commute and 1/2 mile hill repeat combo day, I took note of the salt buildup on my face. It is getting warmer and my miles are getting longer. A <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2010/11/science-series-41-electrolytes-and-me.html" target="_blank">sweat test</a> will be in order some time in June. It will be good to get a measurement of that again before it gets the better of me.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwJbzB-CuRDZZ34cOCifkSRWEo5lkSOZ30m5NfuEkbzirTZVWMsy54ji5bq1M6-VQI5YrBvnUDnEG_GkAd-_wbku1EwvjD5ELWZGapuHM-VbStvwETBojrIGyQ-1P9GTDMPI2yHfowvk6n/s1600/IMG_4751.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwJbzB-CuRDZZ34cOCifkSRWEo5lkSOZ30m5NfuEkbzirTZVWMsy54ji5bq1M6-VQI5YrBvnUDnEG_GkAd-_wbku1EwvjD5ELWZGapuHM-VbStvwETBojrIGyQ-1P9GTDMPI2yHfowvk6n/s400/IMG_4751.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My face is as salty as my attitude.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Last week my mileage was 51.8, including a 7 day stretch that was 60+. I felt pretty beat up by Saturday, but that is to be expected. Monday I rested, sleeping 14 hours(!), recovering from that mileage as well as the excellent fun times that happened over the weekend, including the Run for Hope, which raised money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society via the <a href="http://rallyforlls.com/" target="_blank">RALLY</a> campaign, and cheering the New Jersey Half and Full Marathons. This week I have another 50+ miles planned and don't expect there to be any problems. Last night's urban commute was completed at a 7:29 per mile click including a sub 7:00 mile coming off the Bridge. Thursday, I'll be introducing 1/4 mile hill repeats into my workouts to make my lungs and heart bigger. I'm hoping the SCBkR tHrILLer group will be out to run with!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggfzczt083TSXJHoj2-qSpunE549rUg0_69YnkcEGSK8fcP5IotxrZW4SMIy3r9cbHMsAcjQCxZAJcBKxugKBT7iGspcmXuMmd85VoiUaNZqFLRxJMmYtp8Y94NUejRw6JGPqxoB57nh8B/s1600/428379_565686260130969_1380656866_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggfzczt083TSXJHoj2-qSpunE549rUg0_69YnkcEGSK8fcP5IotxrZW4SMIy3r9cbHMsAcjQCxZAJcBKxugKBT7iGspcmXuMmd85VoiUaNZqFLRxJMmYtp8Y94NUejRw6JGPqxoB57nh8B/s400/428379_565686260130969_1380656866_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TNT BK just before the Race for Hope 5k put on by <span class="userContent">the students of the NJHS at the Battery Park City School, which was only part of the day's training. These runners completed between 9 and 18 miles before noon.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
With miles up and french fry consumption down, I've been losing fat at a descent rate. Nothing extreme- it's probably one pound a week now, but I don't weigh myself so I don't really know. I just go by feel- how my jeans fit, but most importantly, <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2011/07/live-to-eat-or-eat-to-live.html" target="_blank">how I feel on a run</a>. I am pretty excited about being at a point that I'm happy enough with to eat fries again. I miss fries. Especially from Bear Burger and Dram Shop. And Daisy's disco fries. Yum. I think I'm close. I probably have another month before I start <strike>cheating</strike> giving myself a french fry allowance. Maybe sooner if I continue with these 50+ mile weeks in a healthy way!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2sUN0mRRclSMPBTz8uRDTw2Te2_MDhSjz0rAUp47WWc_oNvT5_coDjaFusTNWRtX30DAdDvS_oiS1dLQ9PDIaH9YNJQsPhS18FrT6QjTCgy4S2qwijFSEQ9a4-WS6Xp1FV_9dBCBTGyqu/s1600/310952_10101395940206525_944192999_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2sUN0mRRclSMPBTz8uRDTw2Te2_MDhSjz0rAUp47WWc_oNvT5_coDjaFusTNWRtX30DAdDvS_oiS1dLQ9PDIaH9YNJQsPhS18FrT6QjTCgy4S2qwijFSEQ9a4-WS6Xp1FV_9dBCBTGyqu/s400/310952_10101395940206525_944192999_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flea market find after a trail run in the Atlantic Highlands on the Appalachian Trail with the team. Now I'm gonna eat waffles for breakfast, too!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-28890539457735547372013-04-23T00:23:00.001-04:002013-04-23T11:03:27.045-04:00ProcessingA week has passed since the Boston Marathon and the bombings that took
place. As the residents of Watertown cheered for the
capture of the second suspect Friday night by the dedicated police and FBI, I had to turn away
and immerse myself in <a href="http://now.msn.com/big-cats-play-in-boxes-at-big-cat-rescue-sanctuary" target="_blank">big cats playing with boxes</a> to escape a bit. I'm relieved, but still, I remain troubled.<b><i> </i></b><br />
<br />
<i>Why does this happen?</i><br />
<br />
I
heard about the bombing almost immediately via Facebook, probably the
same way millions did. And via social media I started accounting for my
friends running and cheering in Boston. I sent out texts and made phone
calls. And I received them, too. I'm a runner- a marathoner- and I
could have been there. If it wasn't for a work trip, I may have gone to cheer. Or maybe if I met my time goals, I could have qualified for this race. My family and friends know this and they reached out to know that I was ok.<br />
<br />
I
felt attacked. That could have been me near the finish line, cheering
our teammates. Worse, it could have been my family. As runners, we all
shared this sentiment. Jeanette wrote so <a href="http://pages.teamintraining.org/nyc/immontre13/jhoswald" target="_blank">here</a>. Gina shared her thoughts <a href="http://nyginaschmeling.blogspot.com/2013/04/fear.html?spref=fb" target="_blank">here</a>. This <a href="http://jezebel.com/the-people-who-watch-marathons-473405924" target="_blank">Jezebel</a> article agrees and expresses how so wrong it is. <br />
<br />
But
this wasn't about attacking runners. This wasn't some scheme of
vengeance by a runner that couldn't BQ. I suppose it is all
speculation at this point, as it has been all week. I don't want to fall into the
trap that so many do. As soon as I heard about the explosion, I hoped it was simply an accident. When it was discovered to be at least two bombs, well... It was an attack our way of life- that's no speculation.<br />
<br />
I run because I can.<br />
<br />
My
Team in Training family regularly sites this mantra. Though usually
referring to our health, it is applicable here. I am fortunate to have
the time, the funds, the safety, and the freedom that allows me the pleasure of a run for fun. I appreciate this fact and am thankful for every stride. <br />
<br />
<i>What could possibly drive someone to terrorize? </i><br />
<br />
Saturday during our Red Hook Ramble, Debbie, a new runner, asked me what I thought about while I ran. <br />
<br />
"Life," I responded. "I try to solve the worlds problems and my problems."<br />
<br />
She thought I was kidding. But I wasn't.<br />
<br />
I
think about the background of the suspects and how they seemed like
normal Americans. They emigrated to this country to seek a better life.
So did my parents. What drove these men to do such a horrible thing? I
try to comprehend. I fear not doing so and over simplifying this would lead us to be vulnerable to another attack.<br />
<br />
I
worry about racial profiling and the Saudi student who was detained and
questioned, home searched and scrutinized because of the color of his
skin or his accent or his religion. I worry about what fear could drive a
good person to do. I'm thankful <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bXchBWwxI_k&feature=youtu.be" target="_blank">my president has similar concerns</a>. <br />
<br />
"Does it work?" Debbie asked.<br />
<br />
"No. It's pretty repetitive."<br />
<br />
I don't find many answers on a run.<br />
<br />
"But it's therapeutic." <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_UdwqkBmQWhScYQycEYAJ3OsFJIH5qQYsm60iDbF-EeX41rkniKKvhdLtO9YH18vGYKpXw4eUumcaVW340Jd7OpGaOzSsloCjElyL-XHgNTFZH3MFE501hIryemCqmQ0NBBSBgS-lqSsX/s1600/537859_10151607426623707_885855717_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_UdwqkBmQWhScYQycEYAJ3OsFJIH5qQYsm60iDbF-EeX41rkniKKvhdLtO9YH18vGYKpXw4eUumcaVW340Jd7OpGaOzSsloCjElyL-XHgNTFZH3MFE501hIryemCqmQ0NBBSBgS-lqSsX/s400/537859_10151607426623707_885855717_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brooklyn loves Boston</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi74GwcWsV-kbeEcwdddg6bh1moQwnupD_26xwbhGY9UQf7j36g2Sk3-wKDlF3uqtRtIMbeG9d1xXYPk0Fe9Qd3CMKiAO8YqoVXnY0nX0gkWjQTiNFYjeZB2CtRfSQBcCQob7t7xjvCLS0v/s1600/547292_10151611679748707_1674902290_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi74GwcWsV-kbeEcwdddg6bh1moQwnupD_26xwbhGY9UQf7j36g2Sk3-wKDlF3uqtRtIMbeG9d1xXYPk0Fe9Qd3CMKiAO8YqoVXnY0nX0gkWjQTiNFYjeZB2CtRfSQBcCQob7t7xjvCLS0v/s400/547292_10151611679748707_1674902290_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More BK to Boston love</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3bA8Vb1_rY-d-Uv7AEAB2la-izFJ9sQxQvRIyDa-Kneh7sLOmLwsIW2Iv-_qiNDC_aCIryEDoRXfyqv5jcGwMTOIoIdqioKlyPzdn5M-kWtpim-IONuQ0FTgLo-j4Rr9Zka27rFNNG5Nm/s1600/388048_560391473993781_1438461242_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3bA8Vb1_rY-d-Uv7AEAB2la-izFJ9sQxQvRIyDa-Kneh7sLOmLwsIW2Iv-_qiNDC_aCIryEDoRXfyqv5jcGwMTOIoIdqioKlyPzdn5M-kWtpim-IONuQ0FTgLo-j4Rr9Zka27rFNNG5Nm/s400/388048_560391473993781_1438461242_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The spirit of runners on full display</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-83272774155546796372013-03-27T21:10:00.001-04:002013-03-27T21:14:36.666-04:00Spring ExponentsSunday came sooner than I was expecting. The result was a 1:41:41(ish) half marathon time- better than I was expecting, though worse than I was hoping. I paced myself well and maybe held back more than I had to, but only slightly. I achieved negative splits, managing the head and tail winds well. Nothing ached and nothing was strained. The race itself was small- no medal and only gun time. Of 348 finishers, I placed 74th which puts me in the top 21%. The results are still far from where I want to be But all in all it was a good outing.<br />
<br />
I've barely gotten in any speed work. I did a few hill repeats with Laura a couple weeks ago and some fartleks during my urban commute workouts. I was tentative about pushing because my base wasn't feeling substantial enough. But I now have 4 straight weeks of 30+ miles each, including a half marathon race, done. I'm recovering nicely from the race and am hungry for speed.<br />
<br />
The Thursday Thriller workout has been a great midweek short recovery session. With my urban commute workout and coaching miles the night before, only about 12-13 hours separate these two workouts. The SCBkR crew has been a great motivator, from Laura's texts to Kris's puppy pics to Amanda's photo directing... and brunch! Yes- brunch on a Thursday. I have yet to make it, but it's definitely a priority.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg36PDWWmq3cnCVtIrJ3M0bqfQ6s3fF6kcIZU1X4sKIa7Ypu_6Ttnd-toQWv4-mEEq5UUBtSrEzyVtI-3HRjjiF9BB0WD9ziyfOEbNXRqn5jaunX58qO9l-N7lLVcAMG3NniUG0uNTORZxS/s1600/578362_10200310214652213_1859723834_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg36PDWWmq3cnCVtIrJ3M0bqfQ6s3fF6kcIZU1X4sKIa7Ypu_6Ttnd-toQWv4-mEEq5UUBtSrEzyVtI-3HRjjiF9BB0WD9ziyfOEbNXRqn5jaunX58qO9l-N7lLVcAMG3NniUG0uNTORZxS/s400/578362_10200310214652213_1859723834_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thursday Thriller crew.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I've taken down about 300 miles for the year and am on a 144 mile per month pace currently. I don't expect that to be my final average, but -just gonna geek out a bit here- if it were so over all 12 months, my year total would be <span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">12<sup>3</sup></span>. I know, I'm a dork.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Next stop- a 5k test in about a month. Time to reacquaint myself with North Hill! </div>
runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-51502996192327506782013-03-03T15:36:00.000-05:002013-03-03T15:36:15.569-05:00Year of the SnakeIt is the year of the snake and I've just been reminded how old I am. February has come and gone, as has Chinese New Year (ok, ok, *Lunar* New Year to be less chino-centric). Being that I was born in the year of the snake, this concludes my third calendar cycle of life. Yep, I'll be thirty six this year.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_iQPEoS8WdOGrWGqs11vFQvImG1ls4xcnj0YFswa3GWOr1NI3abDrVDGraw3j_6eSWpLYR4s6csXo_2Ct0JhWTQQTkpW6KmtAil0Ek7artPrPLpmqr_O7a6kJY400WggVhtM38xM4gFKj/s1600/IMG_4398.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_iQPEoS8WdOGrWGqs11vFQvImG1ls4xcnj0YFswa3GWOr1NI3abDrVDGraw3j_6eSWpLYR4s6csXo_2Ct0JhWTQQTkpW6KmtAil0Ek7artPrPLpmqr_O7a6kJY400WggVhtM38xM4gFKj/s400/IMG_4398.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dad made these amazinng dumplings. This pic has nothing to do with running. But I had to share.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I don't really worry about age (yet). But more than *western* new year, the coming of my fourth year of the snake has made me reflect. I don't do resolutions, but I do like goals and lists. Someone recently told me that I was a goal oriented person. I never thought of myself as such, but I think she's right. Maybe many of you can relate to this, but if I don't sign up for a race that kind of scares me, I don't stick to my training. I skip runs, don't bother with hills or speed, and eat a lot more french fries that the average human should.<br />
<br />
Other than having these goal events, you all help keep me accountable. And by *you*, I mean you my friends who read this little blog, who I hang out with regularly, and who I run with. You support me and hopefully you feel I support you. I can declare my intentions and goals to you and you help me stick to them. So thanks.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQBKD3nLysbVcYAU1Nb8PgG10HpSy8D6TzEt3j69s6gQfKMmnXFtw1cNlYqyvWAGPVXCEOac7iSnELMUWczGqhrBZTuKEdLuIsDDQebkK97Eu5qZbCjhKdW-vuslKkaPPcWUOE2hr24LEy/s1600/530942_540567565976172_384826468_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQBKD3nLysbVcYAU1Nb8PgG10HpSy8D6TzEt3j69s6gQfKMmnXFtw1cNlYqyvWAGPVXCEOac7iSnELMUWczGqhrBZTuKEdLuIsDDQebkK97Eu5qZbCjhKdW-vuslKkaPPcWUOE2hr24LEy/s400/530942_540567565976172_384826468_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of a handful of snow runs this season. I tire of my running tights. Let spring commence!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
If you've been reading along, you'll know the big goal for me this year (or longer if it takes) is to go sub three hours in a marathon. Complementing this, I have a goal to run 1,200 miles in the year (both lunar and western calendar). I am still a long ways away. Just this week was my first 30+ mile week (excluding race/coaching in Bermuda) since mid-July 2012. I was surprised when I looked this stat up, but it helps explain why it's been so damn hard to make the climb back up and develop the base I need to achieve this ambitious goal. <br />
<br />
To put things further in perspective, I only had 3 weeks of 30+ mileage since running the 2010 NYC Marathon. Only three. Including <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/search/label/Ironman" target="_blank">Ironman training</a>. Wow. But in the glorious season leading up to that race, between the end of May and end of October, I had 14 weeks of 30+ mileage, including a <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2010/09/40-50.html" target="_blank">few 40+ and a couple 50+ weeks</a>.<br />
<br />
This doesn't come easy to me. Speed. I say this to people and I don't know if I am believed. I have to work for it. My running log doesn't lie. When I compare myself to the 2010 version of Joel, I'm definitely slower. But I'm hoping that I'm also smarter and that me patiently building a healthy base will get me where I want to be. Time (and race times) will tell.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT3Em1nmufXVpcpa5ccz6F47Pw6ZZOAxAASwiYqdpELI7p3JgxUQEv88loUVK5pJVmVN7NTzdpve1vgfVhOvr8b0wjUUmXtWjVvEkxJgWPBLZagKzsoLC-CvNcxJp4eJ2qRwbo_uLm8O1E/s1600/IMG_4447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT3Em1nmufXVpcpa5ccz6F47Pw6ZZOAxAASwiYqdpELI7p3JgxUQEv88loUVK5pJVmVN7NTzdpve1vgfVhOvr8b0wjUUmXtWjVvEkxJgWPBLZagKzsoLC-CvNcxJp4eJ2qRwbo_uLm8O1E/s400/IMG_4447.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I took the team to the Palisades Park in NJ and made them scale these stairs. Twice.</td></tr>
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runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-44132017668581399942013-02-04T19:16:00.000-05:002013-02-05T13:16:02.677-05:00Bermuda BaselineThe Bermuda Mile took me 6:17? Really? Did I get lost in the
triangle somewhere? Slow. Granted, I wasn't pushing hard- I was
probably at 85% effort. And sure, I was sick... But still, that result
disappoints me. I was hoping to clear 6:00 with that effort level. I was well off pace.<br />
<br />
Though
my mile was slower than I wanted, this first race of the <a href="http://www.bermudaraceweekend.com/site/" target="_blank">Bermuda Triangle Challenge</a> was a fun event. I love the
distance and I loved that the team loved it, too. Hamilton shut down
their main street and came out to cheer. The band played and the kids
raced. It was a fun venue. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRVRAETWTEZep4JDefSjRSFZNdquPE0HGoAvOZTMtklnGyUZYyK5s81599F5Vs-HI2I9zYxRbVHkN7xeZWZPibRWFNGk-ZEST-hmhvx5p4rug4bU0e02zas-CW5KGCLa4QfQg6MxfjHZlG/s1600/150669_10100737564890956_1071260240_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRVRAETWTEZep4JDefSjRSFZNdquPE0HGoAvOZTMtklnGyUZYyK5s81599F5Vs-HI2I9zYxRbVHkN7xeZWZPibRWFNGk-ZEST-hmhvx5p4rug4bU0e02zas-CW5KGCLa4QfQg6MxfjHZlG/s400/150669_10100737564890956_1071260240_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Warriors take Bermuda.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSF9FKvUBH04nFCKOuPL_j-aczb4qqP85kbWF9Bj2bvPUJKs_nxjx18b2U4Fxt5eLjBiqboCfQYia5y-X1YtunQtH8xxbnP4UhU_sluAjLFjDFc5AAWra1VqLnMjlKceL4E9g7-QPRFi6E/s1600/184769_10151311730261716_373332094_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSF9FKvUBH04nFCKOuPL_j-aczb4qqP85kbWF9Bj2bvPUJKs_nxjx18b2U4Fxt5eLjBiqboCfQYia5y-X1YtunQtH8xxbnP4UhU_sluAjLFjDFc5AAWra1VqLnMjlKceL4E9g7-QPRFi6E/s400/184769_10151311730261716_373332094_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am fired up for the mile.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My 10k finish time was 49:50. I was aiming to get under 50 minutes
and run at 85-90%, which I accomplished- barely. It was a damn hilly
course and my under-conditioned legs felt it. But it was fun and quite beautiful. And I was still able to get back out and cheer for and support my team.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEing9FI7A3Rs0J28ol6axGIt56z1w3NF-TYZ3VzGixIfjs1BUp5E7ZF4dKaz3487hu_Xb0RhfgyOVGUYCYIVSBsZKEn8ouBstuFeH0A0KCCJbiUmsgqeTbAdqNzKX6GOUCdCHPT83Ex7rc_/s1600/530762_10100859188361544_1947020155_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEing9FI7A3Rs0J28ol6axGIt56z1w3NF-TYZ3VzGixIfjs1BUp5E7ZF4dKaz3487hu_Xb0RhfgyOVGUYCYIVSBsZKEn8ouBstuFeH0A0KCCJbiUmsgqeTbAdqNzKX6GOUCdCHPT83Ex7rc_/s400/530762_10100859188361544_1947020155_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Very enthusiastic high-five with Ava!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvc-Q7sFOKXI5k0a1I7bWwQLtQwtOywCnmwIABr7UTbYqC5Y8DCMKjD5crJuJnQRWp_Y6ZaY5OoP8zA6Qp_CNh1mkRmm_Y0ZATGYne79TdPiG2dTKtO7RgyNU_bZFr5Wf3F9bOoIw8an8f/s1600/32166_4609769157027_1750322907_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvc-Q7sFOKXI5k0a1I7bWwQLtQwtOywCnmwIABr7UTbYqC5Y8DCMKjD5crJuJnQRWp_Y6ZaY5OoP8zA6Qp_CNh1mkRmm_Y0ZATGYne79TdPiG2dTKtO7RgyNU_bZFr5Wf3F9bOoIw8an8f/s400/32166_4609769157027_1750322907_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BK TNT ready for the 10K.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLriRr63yMv8aygIHs-x9L-_EfXvyNyOOjutx99S9S498He0M-1gcLkskXKXEVFTedXhJG30IimN4-f8TrVbM5zpFtyrf0t8-rURh2rCPJotsBapRwreB4SqSrHYrWGtIQwngG_KDe3You/s1600/549802_10100738161550246_1131345895_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLriRr63yMv8aygIHs-x9L-_EfXvyNyOOjutx99S9S498He0M-1gcLkskXKXEVFTedXhJG30IimN4-f8TrVbM5zpFtyrf0t8-rURh2rCPJotsBapRwreB4SqSrHYrWGtIQwngG_KDe3You/s400/549802_10100738161550246_1131345895_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finished up the race and came back to cheer, of course!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
My original plan was to race all three events, but I wasn't very diligent on my training. I wanted to at least race the half marathon, but I
scrapped those plans Saturday night. I had
been fighting a cold all weekend and it was winning. Luckily,
Amanda found me on the course and we paced each other to a decent
finish. I clocked in at 1:56:34, again doing about 85-90%. If I had raced it, I would have targeted a 1:45:00 finish.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrthRlDdMmoRPj_UKByVurKKlNgJoObL4cGMtdrnd4DjBFvn5O6DN8bODdwHp_zWdbnK03V79c97sSIOx5bBNc7KXgmTZ0G5WTLJCd0eR3b3r5SXCtTvXuOdnTEQ_p7BCniEFDPz-Da_dU/s1600/793706_524626740911096_1857691273_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrthRlDdMmoRPj_UKByVurKKlNgJoObL4cGMtdrnd4DjBFvn5O6DN8bODdwHp_zWdbnK03V79c97sSIOx5bBNc7KXgmTZ0G5WTLJCd0eR3b3r5SXCtTvXuOdnTEQ_p7BCniEFDPz-Da_dU/s400/793706_524626740911096_1857691273_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amanda and I finish the half with smiles.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The weather on Sunday was wet. Very wet. Amanda and I finished, changed into our coach shirts, and headed back out. The only way to stay warm was to run. Our legs were pretty tired, but the team is a huge motivator. It took me too long to get my act together and I missed a few half finishers and didn't get to see some full marathoners finish their first loop.<br />
<br />
But as soon as we got back on the course, we saw TNTers coming. I was trying to make my way out further in the course, but it felt a bit like swimming against a current in a river- in more ways than one. I'd see a TNTer and run with them a bit. Then I'd let them do their thing and head out to find the next. The back and forth pattern didn't lend to be getting very far out. I only made it out to mile 23 or so. I was hoping to get closer to 20.<br />
<br />
And then there was the rain and the street-rivers it created. The water
was ankle deep in many places along the stretch I was running. I was
probably carrying an extra five pounds of water in my clothes, maybe
more. Teammates almost had to swim to the finish at that point. It
was challenging. And it was lonely out there. Everyone did finish
though, and our last runner came in at about 5:30 which was great. I
was proud.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6T8oD5csmsT4eZXYSGCM6Z3WEsxuVGzH3AgVBEdrHr-jFlK259vetV52bNnZZ2zkFqsF4fZOViuY7NpNC7UcwUDxNq0YEwn1hR9M5FUFflmf8wIXB-Vxvi8QdQ8zrFX6Vwo_aem6dGJs/s1600/376445_10102249431832393_1938359656_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6T8oD5csmsT4eZXYSGCM6Z3WEsxuVGzH3AgVBEdrHr-jFlK259vetV52bNnZZ2zkFqsF4fZOViuY7NpNC7UcwUDxNq0YEwn1hR9M5FUFflmf8wIXB-Vxvi8QdQ8zrFX6Vwo_aem6dGJs/s400/376445_10102249431832393_1938359656_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cold and wet and still out cheering for TNT and everyone else.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvOeU94G2A9QO4xd1rma-jP1_FqLTZleqZP2v8RZXFvliXtjqHVlS0pYXA0sRmO0QZumtN16OlT1zPh59Lwxm89_DecI9PoNQ-zvFemJxoZFH0qn3Dns11DAIMkEMoK40Hlgxm8h7GgXQ/s1600/774195_10151201355286851_2001444352_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvOeU94G2A9QO4xd1rma-jP1_FqLTZleqZP2v8RZXFvliXtjqHVlS0pYXA0sRmO0QZumtN16OlT1zPh59Lwxm89_DecI9PoNQ-zvFemJxoZFH0qn3Dns11DAIMkEMoK40Hlgxm8h7GgXQ/s400/774195_10151201355286851_2001444352_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously. Look at that rain and that energy (and that hat on Katie's head).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVlTAohAxuGiy2umlYow_UXefaljASg0dn_QHgujHf4ZRNG0ZKjKbJbpviLqt8jr12G7JTnQFcxCXJdAAQlVgs-8SuHGTmmUz6vQlm-1OuZispjHqiwtL-SF72U2DFoXiqXCpq7G7HsyHJ/s1600/IMG_4309.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVlTAohAxuGiy2umlYow_UXefaljASg0dn_QHgujHf4ZRNG0ZKjKbJbpviLqt8jr12G7JTnQFcxCXJdAAQlVgs-8SuHGTmmUz6vQlm-1OuZispjHqiwtL-SF72U2DFoXiqXCpq7G7HsyHJ/s400/IMG_4309.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Josh has an entourage as he approaches the finish.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After, I ate an overpriced not so good burger then headed to the hotel where I crashed hard. I developed a fever. My body fought so hard to stay healthy for these events and finally gave out. I was happy. I popped some drugs and napped. I went to bed early that night, chilled the next day, went back to 18 degree New York City for a couple days and was pretty sick for the week. When I got to Miami on Friday (I know- hard life) I was still sick, but on the mend. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKmb3A61fvnKTVtZsW6pQc_8vSwQBP1kSV2OanqGp2U8q8cw4imchO7zLEcqlVWK6O_rkj_ujT8YAIU3DiDd0MfQGAGWyqMFkS6F897KphxxQHc11ZWVMv8Tpjk0akApdE7sBRH8EJBoPt/s1600/IMG_4353.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKmb3A61fvnKTVtZsW6pQc_8vSwQBP1kSV2OanqGp2U8q8cw4imchO7zLEcqlVWK6O_rkj_ujT8YAIU3DiDd0MfQGAGWyqMFkS6F897KphxxQHc11ZWVMv8Tpjk0akApdE7sBRH8EJBoPt/s400/IMG_4353.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bienvenido a Miami! Race morning.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So
where do these Bermuda times put me? Way way off my PRs. I have a lot
of work to do and it starts now. I've signed up for the <a href="http://www.sc-halfmarathon.org/" target="_blank">Suffolk County Half Marathon</a>
in March. I plan to race the hell out of it and really test myself.
It's hard to say what I'll be able to do and with just 6 weeks of solid
training to between today and race day, I think getting a PR may be a
stretch. But let's see. Let's see how well training goes and how
disciplined I can be.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9vfOCgWUYqvI8Cuaztqg5vndzVJ0Fd4sVJuylBgQf1tJY-jalYC5gHsMAR0uNgvAcbT3UlTE0ZAImS885BFaCukT_7WjXtir1pRO-HLEfJVxWakMHJJIdrPYoux1Feii4Edy_EBoeMEXt/s1600/304970_802538779015_642753845_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9vfOCgWUYqvI8Cuaztqg5vndzVJ0Fd4sVJuylBgQf1tJY-jalYC5gHsMAR0uNgvAcbT3UlTE0ZAImS885BFaCukT_7WjXtir1pRO-HLEfJVxWakMHJJIdrPYoux1Feii4Edy_EBoeMEXt/s400/304970_802538779015_642753845_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bonus Bermuda Pic.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrkcQ6MIp6s1AUaddzAubBbTjdJMTzt2PDa1xlRpggCHAsV44bTueygXpq4XkbDCg6Fq1gccT0sk_7IYFzrmWEwF4ZKgbAUCB7vPkaGHhoS2y2ZqfO-KubdA4EfkGEy7yDcgk2sZ50BOTR/s1600/IMG_4349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrkcQ6MIp6s1AUaddzAubBbTjdJMTzt2PDa1xlRpggCHAsV44bTueygXpq4XkbDCg6Fq1gccT0sk_7IYFzrmWEwF4ZKgbAUCB7vPkaGHhoS2y2ZqfO-KubdA4EfkGEy7yDcgk2sZ50BOTR/s400/IMG_4349.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bonus Miami Pic.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-38968687748278633892012-12-23T15:28:00.000-05:002012-12-23T15:34:15.710-05:00It's About Time<i>What's on the calendar? What's in the pipeline? What's up next?</i> When asked of a runner by a runner, the subject is obvious: the next event. I ask this often of my running friends and I've been asked this quite a few times since finishing the Ironman. Where does one go from there? My answer had been the Prospect Park Turkey Trot. Now that's done, it's the Bermuda Triangle Challenge- a modest one mile race (Friday), 10k race (Saturday), and half marathon (Sunday) combo.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg39Tpe5KLLtivOiZumGWdiGElM_RW0vPqrx6C0u82aWlb6xtNsIVcbGd6wctm2wcnyuLds2Ck27XgKMdd8RfZFQ2JD8q3bpjmrhR4KthWCOoavJMtxOgcPPMBoG0lqZwULGkqGAyGTFpyq/s1600/IMG_3877.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg39Tpe5KLLtivOiZumGWdiGElM_RW0vPqrx6C0u82aWlb6xtNsIVcbGd6wctm2wcnyuLds2Ck27XgKMdd8RfZFQ2JD8q3bpjmrhR4KthWCOoavJMtxOgcPPMBoG0lqZwULGkqGAyGTFpyq/s400/IMG_3877.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Team trotted with me around Prospect Park.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I will be completing this with Team in Training as a fundraising participant and will be coaching the even as well. If you need a cause to donate to before the year is out, please consider dropping a few bucks <a href="http://pages.teamintraining.org/nyc/berhm10k13/coachjoel" target="_blank">here</a>. This will be a fun event and I'm looking forward to it. Is this the next big thing for me? Well, I guess not.<br />
<br />
To Boston Qualify was my goal back in 2010 when James and I were tearing up the roads of Brooklyn, Manhattan and London. He got his in Philly that November. I got <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2010/11/41st-running.html" target="_blank">10 miles worth of cramps in NYC</a> which led to my <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2010/11/science-series-41-electrolytes-and-me.html" target="_blank">electrolyte geek-out</a> and a <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/search?q=%28Mid%29Sole+Searching&max-results=20&by-date=true" target="_blank">search for my mid-sole</a>. Then in July 2011, I kind of got sidetracked when I signed up for what I thought would be my only chance to do an Ironman in my backyard (US Ironman Championship in NJ/NYC) <i>and</i> train with TNT. I feared this may be the only TNT IronTeam ever. As it turns out, IronTeam is back for 2013, but the <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2012/09/15/sports/organizers-say-ironman-wont-return-to-new-york-city-because-of-financial-and-logistical-issues.html?_r=0" target="_blank">NJ/NYC Ironman is not</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6qKme0P4lpl_KW8goOd2KczVxIr7W10mTppKri8LHar-1ssMBmVDypXTi17V1oEzIjr84t5LoU3-gE7ILCdsM2yLgv8yOJCihLExhcGPQhRDz_6KedoI9hoedAZL_oozBe1rnPnktDa7/s1600/72491_10150323333360393_280511_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6qKme0P4lpl_KW8goOd2KczVxIr7W10mTppKri8LHar-1ssMBmVDypXTi17V1oEzIjr84t5LoU3-gE7ILCdsM2yLgv8yOJCihLExhcGPQhRDz_6KedoI9hoedAZL_oozBe1rnPnktDa7/s400/72491_10150323333360393_280511_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A running rendezvous with James in London. Oct 2010</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Since that fateful fall season of 2010, Boston has lowered its qualifying time by 5 minutes, done away with the grace 59 second overage, and I turned 35, putting me in another age group. That all equates to almost no change for my qualification standards, but a big change in my attitude.<br />
<br />
Boston says I need 3:09:59, but for me, it's no longer about the BQ. I want a sub-three finish time. This is the next thing on my calendar even though it has no fixed date. I'll be chronicling my progress in the coming months. If all goes well, my PRs posted to the left will be updated regularly.<br />
<br />
Happy Holidays to you all and have a great new year.runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-37680313720830242382012-11-25T11:28:00.000-05:002012-11-25T12:06:28.965-05:00RTB 2012: Gangnam StyleWoah. It's been over two months since <a href="http://www.rtbrelay.com/" target="_blank">Reach the Beach</a>. Life has
kept me busy and away from this blog, but I still want to share a bit of
a recap. Take my hand as we jaunt down this 200 mile relay toward the
beach.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMi3WcYNcrozvBP81V8IrGkNRfsZmQslyhNQBeRW1RqrVRKke3cI9aQenmS9OepPI4YZgD-ay39XlE2OH43rsCyNUwP6BfuO1iOKtTcADpn4FbPKYV_7b6HDDbWbggOvqbadhJ3jcG-qgJ/s1600/301277_923424063695_1787409447_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMi3WcYNcrozvBP81V8IrGkNRfsZmQslyhNQBeRW1RqrVRKke3cI9aQenmS9OepPI4YZgD-ay39XlE2OH43rsCyNUwP6BfuO1iOKtTcADpn4FbPKYV_7b6HDDbWbggOvqbadhJ3jcG-qgJ/s400/301277_923424063695_1787409447_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The jump-shot. Thanks to Sarah Y, a Warriors tradition since 2011.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>Two Teams, Twenty-Three Runners</b><br />
The
word is out. The warriors are good. Real good. The best. And I know
enough excellent people now to form two teams. After a few weeks of
wrangling, 23 of us departed Brooklyn in four vans. Kevin and Mark
joined us from the left coast this year, and Kara again flew in from
Denver. Syed, Sarah, Dan, Daniel and I rounded out the returning
alumni. The rest of the team was made up of South Central Brooklyn
Runners. For the past couple years I've been dipping into my <a href="http://teamintraining.org/" target="_blank">TNT</a> team
to pull a couple runners. This year, my TNT friends made up the vast
majority. We were joined by Rachel, Travis, Larry, Amanda, Sarah,
Kristen, Brian, Carlota, Alexis, Kris, Chris, Laura, Farah, Caitlin and Suzy.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZUsBdgy3x6s9ogiU-bZEe9Jg0pG8ibUPNo2S802IW5qBb0dxNbsCjd1YUYvin_kkEVp2X7I3zvzNUjS5Xv8PWhUDzAkGpMzFrCKQhhBvyZuqxe7JzJ5s9eqqg_2JaLdWck5-5Yzv8CHW7/s1600/IMG_1991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZUsBdgy3x6s9ogiU-bZEe9Jg0pG8ibUPNo2S802IW5qBb0dxNbsCjd1YUYvin_kkEVp2X7I3zvzNUjS5Xv8PWhUDzAkGpMzFrCKQhhBvyZuqxe7JzJ5s9eqqg_2JaLdWck5-5Yzv8CHW7/s400/IMG_1991.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 2012 Warriors</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Gangnam Style </b><br />
I'm
not one for pop sensations not called The Beatles, but this guy <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9bZkp7q19f0" target="_blank">Psy and his Gangnam Style</a> were the perfect set up for our team and the weekend.
The dancing started days before we left and continued into the
departing vans. The first wave took off from Brooklyn around 10am and
the second wave departed at 7pm.<br />
<br />
We've had one van
depart later in the past because of work schedules. Along with the
usual, Suzy actually few back from England to make the event that
afternoon. And Carlota negotiated with her super rigid schedule to duck
out at 5pm and had to return to the office by noon on Sunday. Yup,
that meant a 6:30am return time. But it was well worth it. <br />
<br />
Facebook
was a flurry of activity. Rachel set up a Warriors 2012 group page and
shared our commuting exploits. This turned out to be a great way to
keep up with the antics in the other three vans including Larry's
singing, Caitlin's first McDonald's burger, and Kara and Farah hula hooping.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuwZlllkSFqXTTzobnuGIW4U6bUKxqVfq83QQXYzy3kKbtxIZQGZTmA0WmeXICvGffPgktG_5RyeSetaXNcwxtiGVW0WTaQmYjrOTPZ7YROhYglSbyusKANzcsqTl8ALkYh7bEeVMFrzjh/s1600/IMG_3869.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuwZlllkSFqXTTzobnuGIW4U6bUKxqVfq83QQXYzy3kKbtxIZQGZTmA0WmeXICvGffPgktG_5RyeSetaXNcwxtiGVW0WTaQmYjrOTPZ7YROhYglSbyusKANzcsqTl8ALkYh7bEeVMFrzjh/s400/IMG_3869.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Greetings from Brattleboro (series 1 of 2).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh74SAnU8A3-dv47S3tBCFF4fX0LlV6dJNUOcMcwFakgd4rp2iBsj_KNaR3kf9mOVKASaQ0WL20qZ-x6Cxq3bEAQfgUGCZm3D_b7qlF9O-uy-qoPVUXQgPqR9d1o67bdX3IdvjKTuIWo8nE/s1600/IMG_1346.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh74SAnU8A3-dv47S3tBCFF4fX0LlV6dJNUOcMcwFakgd4rp2iBsj_KNaR3kf9mOVKASaQ0WL20qZ-x6Cxq3bEAQfgUGCZm3D_b7qlF9O-uy-qoPVUXQgPqR9d1o67bdX3IdvjKTuIWo8nE/s400/IMG_1346.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Greetings from Brattleboro (series 2 of 2).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk4Zr90GarT0VZ4VNYxCb8F370efHBlo949A8Udcl6Xe7SCZVnZmS_40skTGOnEW7pMNkFnympnAiSzjv2bxrYFqgLWuNs4yDmRqQKvigDVKu8HNIyMcWUlB-dkz3meY4HBs7-j9p5FM0U/s1600/IMG_5664.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk4Zr90GarT0VZ4VNYxCb8F370efHBlo949A8Udcl6Xe7SCZVnZmS_40skTGOnEW7pMNkFnympnAiSzjv2bxrYFqgLWuNs4yDmRqQKvigDVKu8HNIyMcWUlB-dkz3meY4HBs7-j9p5FM0U/s400/IMG_5664.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ba da ba ba ba I'm lovin it!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjwBNz4_8_-jVozGGsUgi7eDiazsiwvrzpk9ZujpZ8ahgXjuowXCgeVyAsSXOVeAWHzEvqzTAfDZYeWbdzvGdHzMh5dy4JrdJIT_cZDD5gxV3wrBXacdy1rwGD6ZbkQl81Pch7rGF_cdF7/s1600/IMG_3653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjwBNz4_8_-jVozGGsUgi7eDiazsiwvrzpk9ZujpZ8ahgXjuowXCgeVyAsSXOVeAWHzEvqzTAfDZYeWbdzvGdHzMh5dy4JrdJIT_cZDD5gxV3wrBXacdy1rwGD6ZbkQl81Pch7rGF_cdF7/s400/IMG_3653.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cluckin' Crazy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>BMs vs Kills</b><br />
Our
running times, while solid, were average when compared to the other 450
or so teams. Our pooping prowess, on the other hand, was
extraordinary. Assuming all other teams counted their collective bowel
movements during the race, I'm sure our numbers would top theirs. As
Kristen expressed, She had a "PR in BMs!" I wonder if there are other
teams out there that count their poops. Come to think of it, I don't
think I've spotted any other vans with kill tallies either. Hmmm, maybe we just like to count.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/qtWOW83wM3I?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<b>Where is the Blinky! </b><br />
It
doesn't have to be as complicated as it turned out to be. But I forgot
to give the safety gear talk Friday morning which would have explained
the process on how we trade off the safety gear. Having two teams
sharing the gear made it worse. I had meant to separate it all out and
just totally forgot until dusk. In retrospect, I hope everyone involved
agree this wasn't a big deal. But at the time, everyone, including me,
was freaking out. On little sleep, under time pressure, and
expectations to perform, a small issue isn't so small. Cracks appeared.
And some tears. But no one had keys thrown at them and no doors were
slammed. Never did we turn on each other.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSJ8wJLRHidt3ohzMhr8HtevGnH3egh32zZ_mY05leSxMfCEyE3WFYWLt8KDCdUtP7wzjxDlaBcXhOooUNtlrdjNPMwD5DB6chemUSudeJ4iLUrhnMMfie8UsdaY8P1V9Ca1eQ8ZYi3QWx/s1600/IMG_3633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSJ8wJLRHidt3ohzMhr8HtevGnH3egh32zZ_mY05leSxMfCEyE3WFYWLt8KDCdUtP7wzjxDlaBcXhOooUNtlrdjNPMwD5DB6chemUSudeJ4iLUrhnMMfie8UsdaY8P1V9Ca1eQ8ZYi3QWx/s400/IMG_3633.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laura models the latest safety fashion.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Night Run</b><br />
Caitlin feared bears. Kristen couldn't see a
damn
thing. Amanda took a spill. Suzy was cursing my name, as was Rachel...
and probably a few others. Rookies fear this run. Some hate it
while they're doing it. But all eventually fall in love with it.
What's the allure of the night run at 3am? For me it's the same draw I
have to running in the rain or a snow storm. It's the new
experience. It's like a different type of tourism. I'm not
visiting a new place, but rather a new circumstance. Pair that with a
generous dose of runner's high and it's irresistible.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju_mqa8nzsyGOe3Q-ogSJ6_IZ_LNaU5SolvUxDYE6AQD7QFmIPVfAzr_WiKnxbAqpOvLljcs4FbeMjKtDarqE18ZMfTCAv5OW2pL1JFSQHmZ85Z_2zBIc9GfSWt7nFCHsYfMezuDvYdsdD/s1600/75642_706821831263_1120472719_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju_mqa8nzsyGOe3Q-ogSJ6_IZ_LNaU5SolvUxDYE6AQD7QFmIPVfAzr_WiKnxbAqpOvLljcs4FbeMjKtDarqE18ZMfTCAv5OW2pL1JFSQHmZ85Z_2zBIc9GfSWt7nFCHsYfMezuDvYdsdD/s400/75642_706821831263_1120472719_n.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready for the night run.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidl9xUixOGyPdvuuTdE1FcJBhy4rNLohBDJy3o4Kr_I86ID1YDpjFiztv2fT8PezseTkG5kYEQAQqaMSUCSpuoe2vZKVce9EqCvyn6b5OUpo4-5eNsncmvczuHlDeT_Hv8pJEEAHtztGw9/s1600/IMG_3975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidl9xUixOGyPdvuuTdE1FcJBhy4rNLohBDJy3o4Kr_I86ID1YDpjFiztv2fT8PezseTkG5kYEQAQqaMSUCSpuoe2vZKVce9EqCvyn6b5OUpo4-5eNsncmvczuHlDeT_Hv8pJEEAHtztGw9/s400/IMG_3975.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We bad.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_-mxvvfq5QEIV-GBnzhbw_Xcv-GaIz5cMSpCDOh3Jlouw3ogCXF0qIhDx9t2g-7v2pR4c8nwMMY891uMd6LBv8Jq_eszWxrK6KkjMXz1aTFtDp0Y5Lqia0dBBe2ESBHnAwm0-k_J01tA_/s1600/IMG_3979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_-mxvvfq5QEIV-GBnzhbw_Xcv-GaIz5cMSpCDOh3Jlouw3ogCXF0qIhDx9t2g-7v2pR4c8nwMMY891uMd6LBv8Jq_eszWxrK6KkjMXz1aTFtDp0Y5Lqia0dBBe2ESBHnAwm0-k_J01tA_/s400/IMG_3979.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jump-shot en la noche!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDf-3fz1fupSJaZHIwrsX1Kqjx8q2HnUzUBvRuaeWN789EGiYVjArLGuvw85cG7b3wT_bT_iGJ5KE6umMJeQrHgsF_fWw_geHV6cpMDwLO_Zg9caVPc2XuCBJQT4vdkH3tJh88ILDjVje/s1600/IMG_5758.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDf-3fz1fupSJaZHIwrsX1Kqjx8q2HnUzUBvRuaeWN789EGiYVjArLGuvw85cG7b3wT_bT_iGJ5KE6umMJeQrHgsF_fWw_geHV6cpMDwLO_Zg9caVPc2XuCBJQT4vdkH3tJh88ILDjVje/s400/IMG_5758.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dawn is coming.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b></b><br />
<b>Tear-away Pants meet Slo-mo Video</b><br />
It
doesn't get any better than this. A couple years ago Kevin and I joked
about how our next piece of warriors swag should be either tear away
pants or booty shorts. I knew it would be fun, but could not come close
to imagining the hilarity that ensued. And with the introduction of slow motion by the brilliant Amanda, well, I'm not going to bother
describing this in words. Just watch the video.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/clYsuWdqqMw?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
<b>Start Times and Finish Estimates </b><br />
I
did a bad job estimating our times this year. I was a bit rushed and
didn't fill out my own excel spreadsheet correctly. My estimates were
off. But you know what else? I realized this year that how we have
been registering our time estimates with RTB has given them the
perception that we are faster than we really are. I'm going to change
that for next year. We're missing out on some of the creative fun from
other teams. Generally, the slower teams are goofier. And though we've
got some speed, our goofiness trounces our fastness (see BMs vs Kills
above).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_YOewTGHkvt8fiQlS9XmYPwSHV0S5Rew-Isph6Wcu71r92qBWpbRO_UIV6N_1Q2_iZfKo3lBsN5nBCJP9w_AbokrpM3ge8VmAGZ2i0xDZh9TSNh4mxYjIhRMOvVpCPqF0YGdgIs0Ra-CQ/s1600/IMG_2341.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_YOewTGHkvt8fiQlS9XmYPwSHV0S5Rew-Isph6Wcu71r92qBWpbRO_UIV6N_1Q2_iZfKo3lBsN5nBCJP9w_AbokrpM3ge8VmAGZ2i0xDZh9TSNh4mxYjIhRMOvVpCPqF0YGdgIs0Ra-CQ/s400/IMG_2341.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the 80 or so teams that we tagged.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>I lost it</b><br />
I yelled at Syed.
I've apologized to him already, but I'm gonna do it here, too. Sorry, captain.
The man stepped up and took on the responsibility of being the captain
of the other team and van daddy. My frustration got the best of me.
Managing 23 personalities was overwhelming. I fell victim to the very thing I warned my teammates about. This event is naturally and inherently stressful. That stress and exhaustion can be a catalyst for amazing things and hilarity or bitter things and broken friendships.<br />
<br />
This year, I handed off a
lot of responsibility to Syed, Rachel, Travis and
Daniel. Alexis and Brian helped with van logistics, and Kevin again
helped book hotels. Without these people we would not have pulled this adventure off, not just for the logistical tasks they took ownership of, but for their positive attitudes, energy, team mentality, and friendship. Thank you all for your help.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4AzfuvAYC3iNKtOt809v5t0eUypdTJkQOjWZYZeYIlHcvRbKmsqK8phbSDkXO_OpS3ofBtaJf-yXmiY614qHO3Lr97_7ZdPkysebt9YU91nZCZccp6kRSIzYObxbuuCJYUD7a0-LGPHyO/s1600/IMG_4202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4AzfuvAYC3iNKtOt809v5t0eUypdTJkQOjWZYZeYIlHcvRbKmsqK8phbSDkXO_OpS3ofBtaJf-yXmiY614qHO3Lr97_7ZdPkysebt9YU91nZCZccp6kRSIzYObxbuuCJYUD7a0-LGPHyO/s400/IMG_4202.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Syed can dig it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Thank You Can I Have Another</b><br />
I will forever quote MK's description of the weekend, "Reach the Beach is better than Christmas morning." My Warriors feel this. They've fallen in love with this weekend like I have and I've fallen in love with all of them because of it. This Saturday, I'll
be registering The Warriors once again for 2013. It will be my
seventh time returning to NH. Yup, I'll have two teams, maybe three
even. Yup, I know it was hard to manage. And yup, I want it all again.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjECxhH6MMoXN-G7ZbOlesrxiVQdwV0zvWyw5CBKclZz6FhyphenhyphenJdaRpNMwiUMWmDZoPyQfj71Z0pw0JH51vs6E-F6VNPaZ2TQw7xj2Q1mDnkOD18ShEBaiztye2aJouZTmMDtPoBmuH49T1cr/s1600/388798_923423380065_1166801953_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjECxhH6MMoXN-G7ZbOlesrxiVQdwV0zvWyw5CBKclZz6FhyphenhyphenJdaRpNMwiUMWmDZoPyQfj71Z0pw0JH51vs6E-F6VNPaZ2TQw7xj2Q1mDnkOD18ShEBaiztye2aJouZTmMDtPoBmuH49T1cr/s400/388798_923423380065_1166801953_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smiles.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBxYuDAZpZmUFBXaN_Se_fuJRzlp8bHqEhyphenhypheneqqCpZfmAxa6m-TLZ5U_e26jRbehmFwtLhmDVj4yreXz2i333dmd9kM0eM4YtPA5WuN7f6Rwze772Pna164ZWr33Y2olnVqfgrovxRovaL/s1600/36301_923425066685_113193048_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBxYuDAZpZmUFBXaN_Se_fuJRzlp8bHqEhyphenhypheneqqCpZfmAxa6m-TLZ5U_e26jRbehmFwtLhmDVj4yreXz2i333dmd9kM0eM4YtPA5WuN7f6Rwze772Pna164ZWr33Y2olnVqfgrovxRovaL/s400/36301_923425066685_113193048_n.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Warrior Tattoos</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj68WCX4lE214QNfNXsSTlnLgvJdxaUIFjypGGhxJ0i1tZ4leYkUvoLpOVw2DKqAd2Y-5FuLIFrGl2JAoBXOG4mLLXvSiqvMm8unpHEp7bKjdNFqDYoA2z6G2QoodLs2aJa2J5Y7U2dzudj/s1600/417224_923424487845_728441862_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj68WCX4lE214QNfNXsSTlnLgvJdxaUIFjypGGhxJ0i1tZ4leYkUvoLpOVw2DKqAd2Y-5FuLIFrGl2JAoBXOG4mLLXvSiqvMm8unpHEp7bKjdNFqDYoA2z6G2QoodLs2aJa2J5Y7U2dzudj/s400/417224_923424487845_728441862_n.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leg one high fives.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidDPummxX9t218nFvLFLQyTteixko66AJGRcKMv0_VFYA2tVWckoyvx6fiUMTWBkUobDuc9PyQ8ohLwUyXfqBex-LRi_-1aTG1i6oUKHTKux7eW9tvknJKnO6AAZVrCnax6eoJn5MHIfsH/s1600/IMG_3972.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidDPummxX9t218nFvLFLQyTteixko66AJGRcKMv0_VFYA2tVWckoyvx6fiUMTWBkUobDuc9PyQ8ohLwUyXfqBex-LRi_-1aTG1i6oUKHTKux7eW9tvknJKnO6AAZVrCnax6eoJn5MHIfsH/s400/IMG_3972.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dan: Seek and Destroy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgG0KTBaa7ABFmXbJxrGGy0r824vwOijZvxGVwBehA-r2uBBeM86cVvsbK7SnI1FQMf8tu7hHRPKjlcyl4uJEbfE1rmd1y5iRSwpQEqeBK25O3C3qGhn1sQqwFCZ5wV6YW_H8gyIH3yiu1/s400/CIMG0074.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rachel and her favorite Picards</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTYHQvZdplcktUqlcCizOJ3kLXTSnat-ogh58Wesbv0B75iRWsnX43TQ23-HlF1O3W561vu_Hj3GeAxex796xQxGWhYRLRcx0SFvOP1eI8w1LQK7wq5grbqliy4N1PJ-KdAbu2efYhB1Ep/s1600/388817_601180507881_778362292_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTYHQvZdplcktUqlcCizOJ3kLXTSnat-ogh58Wesbv0B75iRWsnX43TQ23-HlF1O3W561vu_Hj3GeAxex796xQxGWhYRLRcx0SFvOP1eI8w1LQK7wq5grbqliy4N1PJ-KdAbu2efYhB1Ep/s400/388817_601180507881_778362292_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Warriors *W* was big this year.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQfIn5vNekSWNssgyuA8mYHtfTpCq3Bpvqh7xyMbhdF_7dH97LL2kweF3WN8BwbvsG5GY-G-dS-ePgEcsLrl6EeAzd4RyvBiitleBnNggwVBcttAKIR7bq9Rw9zac3Ra-50iHxJd9awpB/s1600/74810_462825737083689_1513738658_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQfIn5vNekSWNssgyuA8mYHtfTpCq3Bpvqh7xyMbhdF_7dH97LL2kweF3WN8BwbvsG5GY-G-dS-ePgEcsLrl6EeAzd4RyvBiitleBnNggwVBcttAKIR7bq9Rw9zac3Ra-50iHxJd9awpB/s400/74810_462825737083689_1513738658_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amanda's well deserved finisher's medal.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi__DJE28rMZEaTFVNKp5RzJFVlo9cZEp8RNIPJaAtSrVkwgIa6ctn1HfSh9642ywmYwEvBo5FWf97Or8en8jzFGcXwK2RIHYUCdDUA6cXJXXGuqlKgpZXKEQwtT_dgg4yxysy4Cqb6IwFs/s1600/CIMG0097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi__DJE28rMZEaTFVNKp5RzJFVlo9cZEp8RNIPJaAtSrVkwgIa6ctn1HfSh9642ywmYwEvBo5FWf97Or8en8jzFGcXwK2RIHYUCdDUA6cXJXXGuqlKgpZXKEQwtT_dgg4yxysy4Cqb6IwFs/s400/CIMG0097.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Warriors 2012 Edition</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-209199521245913732012-11-18T20:15:00.005-05:002012-11-19T01:44:59.445-05:00Run, InterruptedAs the week unfolded post Hurricane Sandy, the inner torment of my
friends and fellow runners grew. The storm damage was worse than we
feared. Many of us were lucky, eating Thai food in Park Slope, watching
dvds in the warmth of our not-flooded homes. Tuesday came around and
as I celebrated my 35th birthday out at a bar in the neighborhood, it
appeared the city took a wallop, but would bounce back in time for
Sunday's race. The mayor agreed. But he was wrong.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWrYjnyMf02P_sosEr-CLuqfpeZNbF3CXaHcxpgvHQSGTXPjfxM6t1xk2uINUnO6p3bfI0GffOc4HRzdS_0dztWkMFaERW5-7kUZffMEgTvQStW8dA-bQ7xwI7zEoHPKx2PvButw0-Edxu/s1600/175537_4401328985587_1370244646_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWrYjnyMf02P_sosEr-CLuqfpeZNbF3CXaHcxpgvHQSGTXPjfxM6t1xk2uINUnO6p3bfI0GffOc4HRzdS_0dztWkMFaERW5-7kUZffMEgTvQStW8dA-bQ7xwI7zEoHPKx2PvButw0-Edxu/s400/175537_4401328985587_1370244646_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Storm run at about noon on Monday, maybe 6 hours before the eye hit the coast </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Bloomberg
declared that he'd be happy if restoration of power and the MTA took
only a few days. In the same breath, he suggested the Marathon should
go on. By Wednesday, the true destruction of the storm was being
discovered and the casualty numbers increased. The inner debate amongst
my running friends had already begun. <i>Should I run on Sunday? Is it right?</i>
Many of my friends asked this question. I could feel the inner conflict
brewing in them. I jumped in the debate suggesting that the race would
benefit the city economically, which is no doubt true. And pushing
forward would help the healing process. But how about the resources
needed to hold the race? And was holding this celebration of human will
disrespectful to a city still reeling? That afternoon, the mayor
confirmed the race would go on. Some felt relief to finally have an
answer, but no relief came for that knot in the pit of their stomachs-
or to mine.<br />
<br />
I ran to work on Thursday morning to avoid
the troubles via MTA or car. I was confronted three times and told,
"They better not hold that marathon if I don't have any power yet."
Bloomberg, I'm sure, was hoping for this event to be unifying for the
city, but that was not what was developing. Already conflicted runners
were now becoming the target of the city's frustration. That inner
conflict became inner torment in many. I couldn't focus on my daily
job. I needed to get out and help this city get back to right. I
needed to do this immediately, and definitely before Sunday's race. I
couldn't imagine feeling this way come Marathon day- the day I describe
as a New York City holiday.<br />
<br />
I urged my marathon friends
to run on Sunday for the city and to avoid thinking that *not* running
the race would be helpful. Rather than be passive, be proactive- get
out there and help. Many of them had already done so days before. This
race was going to go on, so we had to make the best of it. Where do we
start? <br />
<br />
<b>This running blog is about to turn into a Sandy Relief blog...</b><br />
<br />
I
started Thursday night. Saira and I made an attempt to deliver a few
bags of canned goods freshly picked from our respective cabinets. We
first headed toward Red Hook, because it was the closest, and because I
knew of the location thanks to the help of my friends. Alison created a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/381505688594261/" target="_blank">Facebook group</a>
that would serve as a how-to guide in serving during the recovery. It
has proven to be an amazing resource. Unfortunately, by 9:30PM, it
seemed the Red Hook drop off spot was closed, so we made our way toward
St. Jacobi Church in Sunset park, where we discovered <a href="http://interoccupy.net/occupysandy/" target="_blank">Occupy Sandy</a>.<br />
<br />
The
site was bustling with activity, even at that hour. They were
receiving donations and sorting them appropriately. We were greeted
with a smile and when I asked about us coming back in the morning, they
were thrilled, even more so when I offered up my car with 3/4 of a tank
of gas. They could use us. I was happy. That knot started to loosen.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQTGYzM-3zoSkPPIgoqG6MhWDD7GRP1XvHQb37Ps20EdBUVScESeLr23ZqDqZ3sLT05XkAWBUZgqmgSMwu-ZNEWowDTyy07ra4a4xEW_U7VE4m-cJX0qOsTjYzsgnax-LdcLDL8ziuxhg/s1600/sandy-+jacobi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQTGYzM-3zoSkPPIgoqG6MhWDD7GRP1XvHQb37Ps20EdBUVScESeLr23ZqDqZ3sLT05XkAWBUZgqmgSMwu-ZNEWowDTyy07ra4a4xEW_U7VE4m-cJX0qOsTjYzsgnax-LdcLDL8ziuxhg/s400/sandy-+jacobi.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St. Jacobi Church- the Occupy Sandy hub in Sunset Park (taken by Jeremy Zilar)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Saira
and I arrived back at Jacobi Church after breakfast and were fast put
to work preparing food. They had a pick up scheduled in about an hour
and we, along with a couple dozen other volunteers, were preparing
sandwiches. More donations came in. Then more people. Lots more. Too
much, even. There weren't enough tasks. We found ourselves in
dish-washing duty for a couple hours, which I was happy about. It was
steady work. And really, that's all most Americans ask for, right?<br />
<br />
Lara,
my college girlfriend, was then suddenly next to me. It was great
running into her. I wasn't surprised. We've run into each other in
random places in the city. This one probably made more sense than any.
Her heart led here here. As did mine.<br />
<br />
After noon at some
point I was summoned by one of the coordinators and dispatched to the
Rockaways. My mission- to stuff my car with as many supplies and
volunteers as I could and get to the St. Francis School on 129th Street
and Rockaway Beach to lend a hand. So Saira and I, joined by Jennifer
from Connecticut (took a 4 day weekend to come volunteer in NYC), Andrey
(from Bensonhurst) and Jeremy (a NY Times staffer) piled into the car
stuffed with blankets and diapers and headed out. <br />
<br />
The
drive there was a tour of destruction. We hopped on the Belt Parkway
and after passing the Verrazano, we had an open view of destroyed
boardwalk, washed out asphalt and guardrails, and tons of deposited
sand, left by the surge. As we crossed the bridge into Rockaway, we
could see sand covering all the streets. It was eerily quiet. The
power was out. The roadway was collapsing in some spots. I turned the
pop music off. It didn't seem appropriate. We drove by washed
out possessions piled high in front of flooded out homes. And we passed mounds burned debris, piled in front of the ruins of burned out
homes. There was a lot of gasping in the car. Jeremy took these <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/silencematters/sets/72157631918228033/with/8150679757/" target="_blank">photos</a> while we were there.<br />
<br />
St.
Francis was swarmed with trucks and cars making drops. Dozens of people
were lending a hand- many of them locals. We were told to contact Dean
or Steve by our dispatcher at Jacobi. Dean suggested some things we
could help out with- sorting clothes, canvassing the area to let people
know the relief spot was there, carrying things, or even delivering MREs
(meals ready to eat) to anyone who seemed to need them.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCerUCjXZM-vIwtFNtUPkYyw_vyN-H0ApDPUIhhuuIzhJdJx85PbZcXaObKSAvlFdfjDvOs6F9TqarXdebOby8qZ0t5Ku7yDlk2yfWuGSunVA35XLcanO2CEo_dIThdA4uj4M-Kqw42sYj/s1600/sandy-+st+francis+w+dean.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCerUCjXZM-vIwtFNtUPkYyw_vyN-H0ApDPUIhhuuIzhJdJx85PbZcXaObKSAvlFdfjDvOs6F9TqarXdebOby8qZ0t5Ku7yDlk2yfWuGSunVA35XLcanO2CEo_dIThdA4uj4M-Kqw42sYj/s400/sandy-+st+francis+w+dean.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dean gives us direction at St. Francis School in the Rockaways (taken by Jeremy Zilar)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There
was definitely a demand for help at this joint and I was quickly roped
into a train of people unloading water and food from a huge truck. Soon
after, I found myself directing traffic between those donating and
picking up. I helped load an unload other vehicles. And at some point
that afternoon I met Yunice. She was another coordinator at the St.
Francis site. She was coordinating with FEMA and I found myself helping
her fill FEMAs little car full of supplies to take down to 92nd
street. We were told they were pretty desperate for supplies. I
offered to fill my car to bring more down and Yunice decided to come
scope that site out.<br />
<br />
On the way, Yunice pointed out her
parents' apartment building, one of the Dayton Towers. She described
what she saw during the storm and how she felt- cars being washed around by powerful waves and the fear of death. She had actually come
back to be with her parents rather than evacuate. She hadn't driven
around yet and was shocked to see the destruction of her childhood home. <br />
<br />
When
we arrived at 92nd Street, what we found was basically two young women
manning a table, trying to dole out goods to people as orderly and
fairly as possible. FEMA had a big truck that was used for charging
cell phones. I was a bit blown away by this. The FEMA guys really
didn't seem like they knew what they were doing. In fact, they seemed
happy to be helping and taking orders from the two young ladies manning
that table.<br />
<br />
Yunice and I quickly emptied the car and returned. I commented on how inept the FEMA guys seemed. She agreed. I asked her how she became involved in the relief effort.<br />
<br />
"I decided to come in and help sort clothes today."<br />
<br />
<i>What?</i> I didn't comment, but I assumed that she had been doing this for days and was probably recruited for her medical skills. Nope. Maybe for her leadership abilities? Nope. There was no recruitment. She'd been volunteering as long as I had.<br />
<br />
Later that afternoon I chatted with Dean a bit and asked how he found himself here.<br />
<br />
"I was walking by. I came to help my friend clean out his basement and decided to come in to see if they needed help. That was yesterday."<br />
<br />
I was simultaneously impressed by his and Yunice's initiative and saddened by how inept they made my government seem. The city wasn't coordinating this effort and neither was FEMA. This was quite literally a grassroots movement, manned by volunteers who simply care and with <i>Occupy Sandy</i> creating connections and developing a relief network.<br />
<br />
Perhaps the government was quick and effective in other areas affected by the storm, but I didn't witness that first hand. City employees- cops and even a bus load of corrections officers from Rikers Island were lending a hand. But it was Dean and Yunice who were coordinating them and helping to set up the 92nd street site with a supply infusion.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBCkpPxphZld3tg1cJaX1IKrEEX2tfBjMCBUoIp7Tr1golmDjGLQUI7J1nUQsUUNB9kIuZzQazl7V6jGCc-W30u9EbL34uCJA8cmqOCq5bCdjUSD1MVdU4JRDdtFzczdcaVHT7G7F081vg/s1600/sandy+st+francis+officers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBCkpPxphZld3tg1cJaX1IKrEEX2tfBjMCBUoIp7Tr1golmDjGLQUI7J1nUQsUUNB9kIuZzQazl7V6jGCc-W30u9EbL34uCJA8cmqOCq5bCdjUSD1MVdU4JRDdtFzczdcaVHT7G7F081vg/s400/sandy+st+francis+officers.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rikers officers lend a hand (taken by Jeremy Zilar)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It soon became dusk and we raced the sun to get everything into the school before darkness took over. Without power, this relief site was shutting down for until dawn. A bit after 6PM, I said my goodbyes to Yunice and Dean and thanked them for what they were doing. Our carpool gathered and we took off back to Brooklyn.<br />
<br />
As we crossed the bridge, mobile service returned and I received an influx of texts, including this one from Rachel: <i>The NYC Marathon has been cancelled!!!</i><br />
<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Ok, back to running...</b><br />
<br />
<br />
Most of my friends were relieved. All were disappointed. As a friend
who was supposed to run said, It's a lose/lose situation. I'd say the
biggest gripe runners have was the way it was handled. It would have
been better to just cancel right away. They (and I) spent the week
trying to rationalize why it was ok for them to run. We all wanted to
believe that running was somehow a good thing for the city at this time.
An economic boost? A rallying point? Something.<br />
<br />
But that
wasn't the reality. What the city needed most was a morale boost and
man power. NYRR, the organizers, have been on a trend to cater to
international runners more than local and it really showed this week. A
significant number of people scheduled to run the marathon were
directly impacted by this storm- home flooded, no power, family dead.
And nyrr's action and words basically implied, "oh well, not everyone
will show up." I can't say this is their true intent and I can't pretend to know what they were thinking (partly because they did a pretty bad job of communicating), but to me, NYRR and the mayor seemed way out of touch.<br />
<br />
I
spent Saturday coaching and preparing for Sunday's outing: Team in
Training was going to Staten Island. Scheduled to run the marathon starting in that borough, this selfless group that I have the fortune to be a part of rallied how they saw fit. 100 runners were bussed to Staten Island from Brooklyn that Sunday as planned. Rather than running shoes, the team donned work boots. We carried shovels and brought our good will to our neighbors in need.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfhmIJ502A4HwXjn9aNc1a5cZ0fP9Wa7E1wgQE3xMeLOVtVUufwBkV2Butr7ATEgaQYyERWdwyfEzZJzzxI5KqDYZbp4pAGHGprbVp2BhvvyXhiG0flJnWM_5dNWxVXj4E_eTf5uj41s6W/s1600/486390_3999692831789_245602096_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfhmIJ502A4HwXjn9aNc1a5cZ0fP9Wa7E1wgQE3xMeLOVtVUufwBkV2Butr7ATEgaQYyERWdwyfEzZJzzxI5KqDYZbp4pAGHGprbVp2BhvvyXhiG0flJnWM_5dNWxVXj4E_eTf5uj41s6W/s400/486390_3999692831789_245602096_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I sorted the hell out of those clothes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
On Marathon Sunday,
literally thousands of marathoners descended on the city and
volunteered. This was
probably the most precious resource that was not being counted. All
those bodies- like 40,000 or so- that would have been diverted to
support or run the race- not just cops or generators- but neighbors as
well as foreigners who sucked it up and stayed to give a hand. It was
just one day. But what a morale boost this was for those hit the
hardest. A woman in SI told me, "You are all angels from heaven! Now I
know we're going to make it through this." I corrected her:
"Actually, we're angels from Brooklyn."<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmNP6Yghn9AumdusxOPLgMavppS2tSR3_-nrWXKRf_5mx64XfxeYy3HzIjCcd99dMEVqs9BW50lSz_bw5I3b1PRk0x-H7CRNRBV7SSI3UPza7YowWAKQZqCUs23G80hsmw3mazyZOtfLxE/s1600/IMG_3823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmNP6Yghn9AumdusxOPLgMavppS2tSR3_-nrWXKRf_5mx64XfxeYy3HzIjCcd99dMEVqs9BW50lSz_bw5I3b1PRk0x-H7CRNRBV7SSI3UPza7YowWAKQZqCUs23G80hsmw3mazyZOtfLxE/s400/IMG_3823.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We are not *just* runners.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
For me, to have or not have the marathon was not about
disrespect. I never really bought into that. People can do whatever
they want. Thousands did a marathon in Central Park anyways. I don't
blame them- they trained a loooong time to get to that point. And I bet
a large number of them probably did that AND volunteered. But having
the marathon tore up most people I know inside- they felt so conflicted
wanting to both. The work that it takes
to prepare for a 26.2 mile run is not trivial. But cancelling,
though disappointing, made the choice easy and clear and nearly all
spent the day doing something for their city that was still in pain and
that they love. <br />
<br />
<b>Ok, that was only *kind of* about running...</b><br />
<br />
Today, yesterday, and last weekend brought some much needed closure to many runner's training season. Today I spent the day cheering on Amanda, who has been training for way longer than she should have been, and she housed the Brooklyn Marathon. She conquered all 2 little and 6 big loops of Prospect Park. Much of the rest of my NYC Marathon refugee friends had similar stories, running in Philly today, Richmond yesterday, Harrisburg, PA last weekend, and sheesh, even a couple doing a the Knickerbocker 60k in Central Park. Yup- no marathon? Screw that- let's do a 60k instead. <br />
<br />
And all throughout their extended taper, they volunteered their time and money toward supporting and rebuilding our city. Brooklyn TNTers teamed up with Two Boots to make meals and deliver supplies to the Rockaways last Sunday. Manhattan TNT headed to Staten Island to help out some more.<br />
<br />
I'm constantly inspired by these people.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiCXaVKvGLyv2jZviqkR-yKBKYlKek7aCIW4Le27RMTjrjnEYGNt6e2-d56qZXI5Ao74BN6uALrdM_WtxMcdwXwH-dQFmtOIpVKZ03nKpt7ArRG4or-pVrYOeO9lkkDDGRBS5-GtaH4Wn-/s1600/photo%25284%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiCXaVKvGLyv2jZviqkR-yKBKYlKek7aCIW4Le27RMTjrjnEYGNt6e2-d56qZXI5Ao74BN6uALrdM_WtxMcdwXwH-dQFmtOIpVKZ03nKpt7ArRG4or-pVrYOeO9lkkDDGRBS5-GtaH4Wn-/s400/photo%25284%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amanda's sub 4 hour marathon mission is a success!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-47636146355836902252012-09-02T00:24:00.001-04:002012-09-02T23:17:39.632-04:00Ironman US Campionship 8:04:46By the time I started running, the winner was less than a mile away from the finish. It was a long race and this is a long blog entry. Thanks for sticking with it.<br />
<br />
I dumped the warm water in my bottle and refilled it with ice water at the suggestion of a volunteer. I started out at an easy pace and immediately spotted Ed and Kait. Hamsi was also in the crowd and called out my name. Lots of familiar faces and voices were around and about. I was psyched. Psyched to be off the bike, psyched to be running, and psyched to see my friends and family. Dude, totally psyched.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ0uWH7AmWEcIqDh5mBPhwyNONcZRTxe_rG4ldFrSoXrgXZ3s3AFLVkUz95rmx0S-GCheCXo4n_R4RH5bbAMo5y_6t14CPYaRAtAm0ZUSLTLe6ZnxwrfKW5aAvoxDgOLU1TNb7ZX7hj1rZ/s1600/325059_10101374403266700_1367124339_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ0uWH7AmWEcIqDh5mBPhwyNONcZRTxe_rG4ldFrSoXrgXZ3s3AFLVkUz95rmx0S-GCheCXo4n_R4RH5bbAMo5y_6t14CPYaRAtAm0ZUSLTLe6ZnxwrfKW5aAvoxDgOLU1TNb7ZX7hj1rZ/s400/325059_10101374403266700_1367124339_o.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kait caught me leaving the transition area. Did I mention I was psyched?</td></tr></tbody></table>I turned my watch back on. I knew it wouldn't last the whole race, but I was most concerned with my heart rate on the hills. I was going to be excited and I needed to stay disciplined and conservative. My legs felt good, but that's always how it starts. Then the bomb drops and I'm cramping. Stay conservative. Just had to stay conservative.<br />
<br />
This course was tough- no lie. The first 14 miles consisted of two out-and-backs on in the Palisades Park. Most TNTers know how hilly these roads are. My Ironteam knew, too. We trained out here. That is one of the benefits of living in the host city (even though we were in NJ, technically) I stayed relaxed as I climbed out of Ross Dock for the last time and saw Coach Scott perched upon a rock. I gave him a thumbs up. He had a big smile on his face.<br />
<br />
Some people hate out and backs. It's true, I do enjoy destination runs and races, but out an backs allow me to see my teammates as we passed each other. And that was really great. I found myself wondering what lap they were on. But it really didn't matter. We exchanged high fives and encouragement. It was a reminder that we weren't doing this alone and that we were doing this for more than just ourselves. I saw other familiar faces out there. Ramon and Kara were out supporting their teammates and cheered me on. Peter was out on the course as well.<br />
<br />
Coach Scott had recommended that we walk through the aid stations, essentially doing a run/walk strategy. I seemed to have forgotten this for the first couple stations, but started to do it. The aid stations were a bit overwhelming. The volunteers were sooo enthusiastic. I volunteered for the Lake Placid Ironman in 2009 and remember being the same. There were so many options. Besides water and the Ironman Perform Gatorade-like drink, there was ice, Coke, a variety of Gu, pretzels, chicken broth, wet sponges, and more, I'm sure.<br />
<br />
I was pretty much only interested in water and Perform. The volunteers would yell out what they were offering. All I needed to do was take it or yell out what I wanted. In most cases, I'd say "Water!" and two volunteers would help pour water into my bottle.<br />
<br />
"Would you like some ice?"<br />
<br />
"Sure! Thanks!"<br />
<br />
I wasn't stopping at each aid station, because I had that trusty water bottle. <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2010/11/science-series-41-electrolytes-and-me.html" target="_blank">I learned the hard way</a> that I can't really survive racing a marathon cramp-free without it. <br />
<br />
I stopped to pee again at mile 7 and as I left the porta potty I heard Coach Scott yell out to me. "Joel! How many fingers?"<br />
<br />
"What?"<br />
<br />
This had something to do with his how are you feeling rating system. I eventually just yelled out that "I'm feeling awesome!" and continued on my way. I was feeling damn good. Except for one thing. <i>Do I need to poop?</i> I thought about that as I covered the next few miles. In that time, my watch died, I saw more teammates, completed the last turn around, and made up my mind. Yup, I had to poop.<br />
<br />
I was carrying a gps device that friends and family were tracking me with. When I was moving, apparently a little arrow icon would appear and move along the course. When I stopped, it became a dot. My brother later told me he watched as the arrow became a dot and stayed a dot for awhile. He wondered, <i>Is he ok?</i> Yup. You were just watching me poop.<br />
<br />
Climbing those hills was challenging and each hill felt harder, but I kept pushing. My legs ached. I was just tired, that's all. I could keep going. No need to slow down. I passed mile 14, which meant I was finally on my way out of the park. A lot of people were walking at this point. I was the only one running out of the park and up the hill toward the George Washington Bridge. <br />
<br />
To cross the bridge, I had to climb stairs- about 75 of them- then descend about 75 on the other side. I took it easy with the stairs, walking them, but I darted over the bridge. That felt liberating. It was a nice mile long flat stretch where I felt I could open things up a bit and test my legs. Yup, tired. Yup, still plenty in the tank.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgINjqM6acvOADKISJxExUsC5wFN8BTsj_l-SXRtwYgw0dltb49WRD02xvhLFfymzxE5oeJrKjIL8TpTsMo6aCv55LYKrj9xwcibDQv_NtXFgciNXMHPdmb11VK98BH8kYZn6lHhNhKMwzJ/s1600/2012-09-01_225932.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgINjqM6acvOADKISJxExUsC5wFN8BTsj_l-SXRtwYgw0dltb49WRD02xvhLFfymzxE5oeJrKjIL8TpTsMo6aCv55LYKrj9xwcibDQv_NtXFgciNXMHPdmb11VK98BH8kYZn6lHhNhKMwzJ/s400/2012-09-01_225932.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing the GW, squinting from the wind.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
On the other side, a nice size crowd was gathered to welcome the runners Daniel was among them. He called out to me and I waived back. It was a great welcome to New York City and it was a taste of what was to come. Yeah, Manhattan. The home stretch. <br />
<br />
As I passed the first aid station on this side of the bridge, a volunteer called out to me.<br />
<br />
"You're gonna catch a lot of people at that pace!"<br />
<br />
Did somebody day <i>kills</i>? My mouth started salivating. Other volunteers called out asking if I wanted water or ice or sponges. I didn't want anything, except kills. Instead of slowing at this aid station, I sped up and made my way through Washington Heights to the bike path.<br />
<br />
<br />
There was a lot of wind up in that first part of the bike path that I wasn't expecting. I was hoping for a nice smooth run to Riverside, but this wind was kind of beating me up. It swirled, pushing me back and side to side. I let myself slow a bit and looked around. Families were out having barbecues, playing music and spending a Saturday by the river. They seemed oblivious to the fact that an Ironman was passing through their picnic ground. At one point a group of kids were sitting right on the course playing a card game. I kind of loved this. It was so New York. On any given evening, there are thousands of things going on in the city.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, I realized I was cruising at a nice pace. The wind stopped, or perhaps became a tail wind. This run was feeling great. No cramping. Feeling strong. No bomb dropped. Retrospectively, I can say this stretch, if not the whole marathon, was a victory lap for me.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitR1xk41MPEf2I9VXs7dHOosHvEC9SKSRhQ-9e1K5KeSYdTPYo95hHjLfGfhBdEU-hx-yW_e1c-SlCI7Cl6xvBxyTIfBTeNPikcrxci-HdsICnKFSLu2iPXhIVtzZrHsp5zM1_3fWYF_aO/s1600/259621_10100565778487286_1492025058_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitR1xk41MPEf2I9VXs7dHOosHvEC9SKSRhQ-9e1K5KeSYdTPYo95hHjLfGfhBdEU-hx-yW_e1c-SlCI7Cl6xvBxyTIfBTeNPikcrxci-HdsICnKFSLu2iPXhIVtzZrHsp5zM1_3fWYF_aO/s400/259621_10100565778487286_1492025058_o.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another kill. I had net 603 of them during the marathon.</td></tr></tbody></table>Syed! Amanda! I was surprised by their familiar faces and stopped to give and get some hugs. Amanda told me how popular the "Go Complete Stranger" sign she made was. I told them I was feeling great. Yes, the celebration had begun. I was so happy to see them.<br />
<br />
I moved quickly toward Riverside Park, anticipating seeing more friends near the TNT aid station. I tried not to let it occupy my thoughts. I tried to stay in the moment. I have miles left. I have a few turns to go. Pass this walker. Don't knock anyone over at that aid station... Look out for the random cyclists...<br />
<br />
And then they were there.<br />
<br />
The roar of cheers was just amazing. The welcome was overwhelming. Louis was the first person I saw. Then everyone else. Michelle, Rachel, Travis, Brian, Sarah, Kristin, Casey... too many to name and to be honest, I was dazed by the group's presence and definitely didn't spot everyone. I stopped and gave and got lots of hugs. They were so excited for me and I was so excited to see them all. I felt awesome.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEprZVYsFAu_ZOw-Tj0PPmXMTgdxrf023s2BDkwWPIR70Jvq2tbBQ8st-o3A5dXq2V8GRJ2qoutcUmN7DSf2TFxF3hegcrNUYsm4wPZQ1_OOtQILg3OBciePREaxMWMnGkE19if5Jt1pWO/s1600/468571_10150958797391688_2138683381_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEprZVYsFAu_ZOw-Tj0PPmXMTgdxrf023s2BDkwWPIR70Jvq2tbBQ8st-o3A5dXq2V8GRJ2qoutcUmN7DSf2TFxF3hegcrNUYsm4wPZQ1_OOtQILg3OBciePREaxMWMnGkE19if5Jt1pWO/s400/468571_10150958797391688_2138683381_o.jpg" width="298" /></a></div><br />
<br />
This made the race- my friends and family and all the support and love they gave me. It was just amazing. I have thanked them. I've thanked you all. And I am doing so again here in this blog. You all need to understand how special this day was for me and it was so special because of you all. Accomplishing an Ironman is pretty cool. Having you all in my life is just balls-out amazing.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWBGAP6QyaQV1Qbs00RNi-u8oEQPMncee406Pikj9OlNVc9FtTjzt-aFhW18US8xJjZQ-rgi_Im5XcEl2a4K8Gg4u3_xzeoQzbhG-1eWb8pWx722Wrj1FpBDB0deUPDlSETRKKZTsEFPxf/s1600/552722_635434492162_303632858_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWBGAP6QyaQV1Qbs00RNi-u8oEQPMncee406Pikj9OlNVc9FtTjzt-aFhW18US8xJjZQ-rgi_Im5XcEl2a4K8Gg4u3_xzeoQzbhG-1eWb8pWx722Wrj1FpBDB0deUPDlSETRKKZTsEFPxf/s400/552722_635434492162_303632858_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brooklyn Love.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZT-d5T6JFaIJzXhv9IEt3igIoAbzmHqbYkXTWiE_twErJ5eBjtMiPojGlCEJVoTbkxKBGOboRZIIbDY_vcnsRSB3vxeefXsdwYHXVw5t7wznHNz682lP_6nGi4ufv3zBkC5X_QRQoVCGQ/s1600/430270_10100565347431126_1087325527_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZT-d5T6JFaIJzXhv9IEt3igIoAbzmHqbYkXTWiE_twErJ5eBjtMiPojGlCEJVoTbkxKBGOboRZIIbDY_vcnsRSB3vxeefXsdwYHXVw5t7wznHNz682lP_6nGi4ufv3zBkC5X_QRQoVCGQ/s400/430270_10100565347431126_1087325527_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkFmH5UaKUCQ4X31X_0f5wgBpUxjsYYvkhqvyojZpjHOckVZVJhmlPpyNnRZoYNni0hRolLO4NPH4AHAwQ1mjF83hjP3GvPm9mwBWyGaJsNe-aTehMpZ5BeeQtlCYfTs00agGRNn14TTZf/s1600/406240_10150958854266688_1206903815_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkFmH5UaKUCQ4X31X_0f5wgBpUxjsYYvkhqvyojZpjHOckVZVJhmlPpyNnRZoYNni0hRolLO4NPH4AHAwQ1mjF83hjP3GvPm9mwBWyGaJsNe-aTehMpZ5BeeQtlCYfTs00agGRNn14TTZf/s400/406240_10150958854266688_1206903815_n.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hugs.</td></tr></tbody></table> I turned the corner and was blown away by the TNT aid station. Jeanette handed me water and Perform. Maureen cheered me on. I got hugs from Jim and Amy. Some guy sponged my back, which I wasn't a fan of, but still appreciated his enthusiasm and support. (Sorry I freaked- I'm paranoid about chafing. Especially in my butt crack. I was fine.)<br />
<br />
I entered Riverside Park, in which the course snaked along for a couple miles. Cary and his crew were there, as were Sarah and Lawrence, Carla and Anjali, Angela, Lisa, Pam and Christie.... so many hugs and high fives were doled out and received and I'm sure I'm forgetting some. Still, I love you.<br />
<br />
I turned out of the park and got more TNT love on my way to the finish. More people were running at this point. They could taste the finish as could I. Soon I could hear Mike Reilly, the voice of Ironman, announce finishers. A couple of turns later I could see it.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjclXdVmdDU2aRjABziajDNyjTNgSxUpSOP35GOoWCNAdu7ppxINTNxxQhHukmNm-U_qe7CLB_L4cvYvKEUxK-8uYXTtFKNEliKs5DXS-zJn7Wo6gvekwxgQ31kRyAd1NMj2wOrW8GVifvL/s1600/532967_10151016040957304_53294101_n-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjclXdVmdDU2aRjABziajDNyjTNgSxUpSOP35GOoWCNAdu7ppxINTNxxQhHukmNm-U_qe7CLB_L4cvYvKEUxK-8uYXTtFKNEliKs5DXS-zJn7Wo6gvekwxgQ31kRyAd1NMj2wOrW8GVifvL/s400/532967_10151016040957304_53294101_n-001.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I spot Ed and Kait.</td></tr></tbody></table>I slowed, scanning the crowds, looking for my parents. There they were.<br />
<br />
I gave them more hugs, then went off to find Ed and Kait. Ah, there they were. More hugs.<br />
<br />
How one crosses the finishline is often a choriographed move. Many raise their hands in triumph. Some fist pump. I've seen one guy "airplane" to the end. I wasn't sure what I was going to do. And yes, I thought about it. Also to consider was the official declaration by Mike Reilly that were were Ironmen. I slowed even more, trying to create space between me and the runners before and after me. Man, they were going slow.<br />
<br />
Finally, I just walked through the finish line, big smile on my face. Yeah, I'm happy with that. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">Run > 4:20:36</div><br />
Finish > 12:25:22 <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgixscR7wKGGaUBRHncSRWsX7u2jtlsNnNvt5p84198Hu7Sb4JcWD9OaZhCqFCJgE6WkH3dE5PTCz9p65FeMA6itUSxB8RbcmXC9MyJE4QAAQEhkDTBQJif5qCfc-EuaUwkj78v5xxw3y2H/s1600/2012-09-01_224644.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgixscR7wKGGaUBRHncSRWsX7u2jtlsNnNvt5p84198Hu7Sb4JcWD9OaZhCqFCJgE6WkH3dE5PTCz9p65FeMA6itUSxB8RbcmXC9MyJE4QAAQEhkDTBQJif5qCfc-EuaUwkj78v5xxw3y2H/s400/2012-09-01_224644.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Done.</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3s1ES31PkTiaOIeZ3fH4HJdWcrb5l0ZS5gliqN0hMEGt-fnNBcvwcD5_jjFa-pgL8-OraI_3QnCi93JxZ1tDmGWkKFIDIa7NZM7hGKeQhbXcYPR56DQtg9LH1nRij5CJ6fLilqG9QMiNP/s1600/328348_10151077457231530_521568287_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3s1ES31PkTiaOIeZ3fH4HJdWcrb5l0ZS5gliqN0hMEGt-fnNBcvwcD5_jjFa-pgL8-OraI_3QnCi93JxZ1tDmGWkKFIDIa7NZM7hGKeQhbXcYPR56DQtg9LH1nRij5CJ6fLilqG9QMiNP/s400/328348_10151077457231530_521568287_o.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
<br />
runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-54955850150432534422012-09-02T00:22:00.000-04:002012-11-19T02:15:11.319-05:00Ironman US Championship 1:00:55<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The bike course started with a steady climb out of Ross Dock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I shifted to my lowest gear and took it easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a lot ofbike traffic, but it didn’t really matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most everyone was going easy at this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I saw them-<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>my beautiful friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnVOECSgbASgmHG9BYZYS9FpuDh7MVCxzu97Sbuv6wu7qyQOELoLmQvNMkKL9aD2-IetJbVwZmqgWEkSvxzdQpcJbXzvQOxr7H74cdp_QiUzkgIvW0hcZ1iYOna6Nb15MKHGtxnrOgNgLa/s1600/255355_635421707782_311680977_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnVOECSgbASgmHG9BYZYS9FpuDh7MVCxzu97Sbuv6wu7qyQOELoLmQvNMkKL9aD2-IetJbVwZmqgWEkSvxzdQpcJbXzvQOxr7H74cdp_QiUzkgIvW0hcZ1iYOna6Nb15MKHGtxnrOgNgLa/s400/255355_635421707782_311680977_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My friends rule.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8BHUpU8WW40JeIJ8V22ZXad_eOpG_T_Q4UJCZFcdys0eRz6LfCe9dmqHMXYZveJYlRJjyE_x24hOJgPZBX6D5XJKc9FiwcvHNmimjiib4fDxyPG9WPeCOc-pZfATySEo-HdBBu7TP9nPB/s1600/531053_10100565777060146_1469042816_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8BHUpU8WW40JeIJ8V22ZXad_eOpG_T_Q4UJCZFcdys0eRz6LfCe9dmqHMXYZveJYlRJjyE_x24hOJgPZBX6D5XJKc9FiwcvHNmimjiib4fDxyPG9WPeCOc-pZfATySEo-HdBBu7TP9nPB/s400/531053_10100565777060146_1469042816_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Syed, Amanda, Casey and Rachel all rule.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKsIxjzMpWrU3ygBvF-UA7l53hW_UYidjrewbR8fnE6mRPLe6ZBUWD1RXVXsJvKGrRuoedtSWx5g1WrWZGPcrZgXodPfOLqvy4GSBKSmNJdzFJ8q5Hk8Ffi2ouzT-wCsZPRP5h-mBPR0QU/s1600/621955_10100565777005256_530490070_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKsIxjzMpWrU3ygBvF-UA7l53hW_UYidjrewbR8fnE6mRPLe6ZBUWD1RXVXsJvKGrRuoedtSWx5g1WrWZGPcrZgXodPfOLqvy4GSBKSmNJdzFJ8q5Hk8Ffi2ouzT-wCsZPRP5h-mBPR0QU/s400/621955_10100565777005256_530490070_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most popular sign on the course.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Donned in TNT purple, Amanda, Rachel, Syed and Casey lined the bike course with signs, cow bells, and energy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was thrilled. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had huge smiles and were cheering for me,calling my name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made my way over to them and gave them all high-fives. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I rode off, I thought about how for them to be out here at 8:25am-ish, they had to wake up before 6am probably, skip their own GTS, drive over to NJ, just to be here and see me for that handful of seconds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get overwhelmed with love just think about that right now as I type.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The course leveled off enough as passed the GW bridge forme to up shift.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I grabbed a bottle ofwater from the first aid station- I probably didn’t have to, but wanted to beconservative.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shortly after, I hit ahuge bump on the road and the bottle went flying out of its cage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t need it.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I could feel myself wanting to push hard, but I didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I reminded myself that the first loop shouldfeel like a normal long Sunday ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ikept pace with a few teammates for a while, but as the field thinned, we spreadout. </div>
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</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFGaoIQID7Pe7sJ69NMT6M2n1i3b9BAv0zMxgfZZglIxkTmVvx1yc7GF2bVVm3dodnsGWXtguxoJ76GtEJwbwJJmZwLtX2003ZeYRANiGNMHUASOl36uI73GP-C7T2pvv9cysrBWBDpoSk/s1600/2012-08-21_203208.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFGaoIQID7Pe7sJ69NMT6M2n1i3b9BAv0zMxgfZZglIxkTmVvx1yc7GF2bVVm3dodnsGWXtguxoJ76GtEJwbwJJmZwLtX2003ZeYRANiGNMHUASOl36uI73GP-C7T2pvv9cysrBWBDpoSk/s400/2012-08-21_203208.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Staying relaxed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br />
My parents were starting their volunteer shift at mile 18at 11:30.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had already warned them thatthey would probably miss me on the first loop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I scanned that aid station just in case as I grabbed another water andIronman Perform drink.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nope, not thereyet.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
A bit further down the road the cyclists were slowingdown. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A woman was on the ground,volunteers around her diverting traffic. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She took a horrible spill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She lay motionless, face bloodied, waitingfor medical support.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
This road was pretty rough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were a few stretches of smooth asphalt,but the majority was concrete slabs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With each break between slaps, the bike bounced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Potholes where frequent and cyclists neededto be alert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some were freshly filled inby Ironman, others were simply marked with yellow spray paint. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lots of people popped tires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And there was at least this one really badcrash.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I reached the turnaround and everyone slowed down andfiled into a single line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“This is a verypolite turnaround,” I said out loud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thecyclists around me laughed in agreement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were all having a good day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The downed woman was still lying motionless on theground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Where the hell is theambulance?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fellow cyclists were indisbelief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“She’s been out there fornearly half an hour!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yeah, where thehell was the medical support?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
This sport is dangerous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We risk a lot to practice it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s the truth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not likesky diving or Nascar, but crashing on your bike when going anywhere between 15and 50 miles per hour is not fun, I imagine (I’ve been lucky enough not to havedone so yet).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Neither is drowning duringthe swim or straining your heart to the point of death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A man died in the Hudson during theswim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think it was after I gotout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have yet heard the cause ofdeath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Rather than read about the death, <a href="http://www.slowtwitch.com/Lifestyle/Carrying_The_Fallen_3018.html" target="_blank">check this article out</a>. </span>I never told my mom about thesethings, fearing that she’d freak out.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I made my way to the end of the first loop and stopped atthe special needs bag area, grabbed my bag, and used the porta potty for the first time. At this point I was well ahead of my planned calorie intake. I was aiming for 250 calories per hour, but was probably closer to 300. I reloaded my pockets with Gu and potatoes and was off. The turnaround wasn't far. I could hear the roar of the crowd before I could see them. That was cool. And they were plenty loud.</div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br />
I made the turn and a few moments later, my watch beeped at me. The battery was low. <i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>What the hell?</i><br />
<br />
It had only been slightly more than three hours. It usually lasts eight. This was frustrating. After thinking a bit, I stopped the watch and put it in power save mode. This way, I could tell the time and the battery would last all day. I needed 250+ calories per hour. This, above all, was the top priority.<br />
<br />
<br />
At some point leading up to the race, I made the decision to stop and hug them. There was no need to fly by. Especially when they drove 2+ hours and volunteered for 6 hours just to get a glimpse of their son riding a bicycle on the Palisades Parkway. So when I spotted them- my dad had just made a water bottle hand off with another cyclist and my mom was gathering empty bottles into a recycling bag- I stopped.<br />
<br />
"Hey, how's it going?" I said to them.<br />
<br />
"Hey!!" My mom was excited and gave me a hug immediately. My dad decided to squirt me with a water bottle. He thought it was funny. I was worried about chafing.<br />
<br />
We chatted a bit. I told them I loved them and thanked them for volunteering. My mom told me how strange some of the volunteers are. I agreed- they were probably triathletes hoping to sign up next year.<br />
<br />
I made a second bathroom stop, then continued toward the turn around. At this point, my ass was hurting. I expected as much. I was shifting more than earlier and standing regularly for some relief. Just after the turn around, I stopped to pee again.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhraUyUwKsHgtFFaF6RNmZcxl9qfkqh5CKi_Ca-MGDhDlTEboN-XV8tzkJ6LPIWRxv_OQKNnwxMtc6Z4lZ6yLqbYgcLkd8gJsN_0uqX0CEDNk2gEHodR69J9645NQQzvertHuqmmeKEx1kl/s1600/2012-08-21_203453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhraUyUwKsHgtFFaF6RNmZcxl9qfkqh5CKi_Ca-MGDhDlTEboN-XV8tzkJ6LPIWRxv_OQKNnwxMtc6Z4lZ6yLqbYgcLkd8gJsN_0uqX0CEDNk2gEHodR69J9645NQQzvertHuqmmeKEx1kl/s400/2012-08-21_203453.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Probably tired of being on the bike at this point.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Why do I keep bringing the pee stops up? Well, during a marathon, I don't stop. I knew I'd be stopping. I knew I would err on the side of too much hydration rather than dehydration for this event. And I would still stop one more time before getting off the bike course. I also knew there was no way that I was going to pee on the bike. Why? Ok, indulge me while I go off on this tangent...<br />
<br />
Back in June, I did a 90 mile ride along route 20 in the Catskills. It was wicked hot and I was drinking a lot. I had stopped to pee a couple times, but needed to go again. This was about mile 70. I've heard that hardcore cyclist just pee while riding. How? They just stand and pee. They don't whip it out first. They don't pull over. They just ride and pee. I had to try it, no?<br />
<br />
It was fairly horrible.<br />
<br />
How much detail do you want? I'll spare you most of it, except for this: I had a puddle of piss in my right shoe for the next 20 miles. Yeah. Awesome. Never again.<br />
<br />
Ok, back to the race report...<br />
<br />
Mileage signs were somewhat sporadic and I could no longer rely on my gps watch. But I was quite familiar with the highway because of driving it dozens of times. I just went by feel and counted down the exit signs. I was ready to be off the bike. I wasn't exhausted, just wanted off. So actually, I sped up a bit.<br />
<br />
I passed the special needs bag area which was empty and cleaned up. The turn around was no longer there and the crowd vacated. I exited the Parkway, knowing there were just a couple miles to the end of the course and took stock.<br />
<br />
I had most of a bottle of Perform left, one Gu, and a few potatoes. I was still ahead of my calories and my stomach felt fine. So I decided to take the Gu and finish the bottle of Perform before I reached transition. I popped in another potato while I was at it. I also took the watch off and put it on my wrist.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching transition.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I mainly coasted down hill, spotted my brother again, hopped off my bike at the dismount marker, walked it to a volunteer, and decided to get out of my cycle shoes immediately rather than clunk around in them. I grabbed my run gear bag and made my way to the steamy changing tent. I had a big smile on my face as I changed, I knew what I needed to do.<br />
<br />
I laced up my shoes as a volunteer helped stuff my cycle gear into the bag. I loaded my pockets with fuel and salt and stuffed my SCBkR hat back in the bag and tied the Warriors bandana on. I grabbed my water bottle and got out of there.<br />
<br />
<br />
Marathon time, baby. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Bike> 6:53:16</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Transition 2> 0:10:35<br />
<a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2012/09/ironman-us-campionship-80446.html">Start of Marathon 8:04:46 [next entry] </a></div>
runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-2596115691825466332012-09-02T00:21:00.001-04:002012-11-19T02:11:39.247-05:00Ironman US Championship 00:00:00There comes a time in every man's life when he must decide whether or not to jump into a river polluted with raw sewage. This was my time...<br />
<br />
<b>BOOM!</b><br />
<br />
7:00AM had arrived and the age groupers, as we are called, began trickling into the river, jumping from the barge. It was exciting and hilarious all at once. From my ferry, 4th in line and waiting patiently to dock, we watched as the athletes jumped in. Most did a simple jump, a few belly flopped to our amusement, and only a couple thought to cannonball.<br />
<br />
The swim portion of the Ironman was never in danger of being canceled, it seemed. The rationale was quite simply, the proportion of sewage that made it's way into the river those couple days- about 3.4 million gallons- wasn't that big a deal. It wasn't much more than is normally in there, I guess.<br />
<br />
As my ferry turned to dock with the barge, the toxic levels of the Hudson were the farthest things from my mind. I wanted in. My fellow athletes wanted in. We tried to be patient as we emptied onto the barge and pushed forward, but we were excited. Everyone was psyched. It was an amazing and electric atmosphere.<br />
<br />
I looked toward the course, the hundreds of swimmers already in the river, and up at the George Washington Bridge in the distance. "That is so bad ass!" I pointed and gave everyone around me my opinion of the view. I exchanged some high-5s with teammates as we crossed the timing mat, and seconds after, I was in the water (feet first, but I should have cannon-balled). So I began to swim.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We file onto the lower level of the barge.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The water was salty, as I had expected. The field was fairly spread out. Most kept close to the buoys, sighting off of them. I stayed away and sighted off the GW Bridge west tower. I knew where I was going. No need to cling to the buoys. That gave me an advantage, since it meant I could be off on my own, practically undisturbed, and I could be relaxed and just swim. That advantage may have been negated because I wasn't getting as strong a current pull as the others probably were. In fact, there were times where I felt it was actually driving me toward the shore. <br />
<br />
The kayak people- race officials, I guess- waived me more toward the buoys a couple times. Rather than argue, I veered toward them more. But I kept relatively straight, aiming for the GW Bridge tower closest to New Jersey. That's where the transition area was. That's where we're getting out of the water.<br />
<br />
The second half of the race seemed to go much faster, which makes sense since that's when the current was forecast to change. It suddenly got more crowded as all the swimmers veered toward me and the exit. It also got disgusting.<br />
<br />
The Hudson River has a layer of sludge at the bottom. You can't step onto it- it's not ground. Not dirt or rock. It's sludge. If you try to step and push off the "ground", your foot and leg will sink into it and get stuck. It's muck. It's disgusting. With thousands of swimmers thrashing about in shallow water, the water turned grayish-brown. Even though I could reach the bottom of the river with my elbows, I dare not stand up until I was on the ramp that led to land. Volunteers reached out and pulled us up.<br />
<br />
"That was pretty disgusting," I commented to one.<br />
<br />
"Dude, you were in the Hudson," was his reply.<br />
<br />
There were actually showers for us to run through to wash the shit off our faces, etc. But some guy stopped and stood under it for who knows how long. I didn't hang around. I went around and made my way to the strippers.<br />
<br />
No, not that kind of stripper. These were volunteers who helped get our wetsuits off. Rather than wrestling with it myself- it's the tightness that makes it difficult- I had two people peel it down, sit me on the ground, and rip it off my legs. Quick. I slung it over my arm, made my way through the field of blue bags grabbing mine before the volunteer could find it. I shuffled along toward the changing tent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ed spotted me and called out my name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was great to see him so early on <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsxRZK8lMda_tDySaFwer7_Yt1lzCs7mq4w7n6dabs23OA1lD2yeR38pA9ah9gQvTt9ACao-wq38vrd3TAs9F5-uUQuw-ugu_HP_lwDbKeaNco4O2eudpKg5nYD7n_OA4J8HbvqwfxECVC/s1600/467253_10151076239341530_711438428_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsxRZK8lMda_tDySaFwer7_Yt1lzCs7mq4w7n6dabs23OA1lD2yeR38pA9ah9gQvTt9ACao-wq38vrd3TAs9F5-uUQuw-ugu_HP_lwDbKeaNco4O2eudpKg5nYD7n_OA4J8HbvqwfxECVC/s400/467253_10151076239341530_711438428_o.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hi Ed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The changing tent was steamy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not in a good way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It smelled of sweaty dudes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A bunch of teammates were around- we must
have gotten out of the water at the same time- and we all got out of our river
clothes and into our cycle gear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Coach
Scott specifically suggested we change out of whatever we swam in because the
Hudson is disgusting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He feared the
smell may catch up to us after a few hours.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I wasn’t speedy about it, but I got my gear on and fuel
in my pockets, and was out ready for my bike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I grabbed it and walked it to the “mounting” line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked over my shoulder at the clock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It read 8:18AM or something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That meant I definitely was faster on my swim
than expected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On schedule.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Swim> 0:52:01</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Transition 1> 0:08:54<br />
<br />
<a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2012/09/ironman-us-championship-10055.html">Bike Start: 1:00:55 [next entry]</a></div>
runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-19121873175229494732012-08-20T03:31:00.000-04:002012-09-02T00:30:01.115-04:00Prelude to 140.6<i>Slow down. Grab the sports drink. Rack it. Grab the water, refill the Jetstream. Grab another bottle? Do I need a spare?</i><br />
<br />
It was 7 days before the big day. I was riding alone along 9W contemplating the balance between reducing weight on my bike and proper hydration. I had just met the team at Ross Dock for the last (and only second) time. Coach Scott lead the group in a visualization of the transition area and Q & A session. I felt prepared. The only question I had was, do I live off the course aid stations or carry everything with me? I took my time out there, visualizing the race. I didn't get back home to Brooklyn until 3p or so, skewing my plans to clean and unpack a bit. This was it. Race week. And I had two big priorities- get the race done and figure out what to do with my parents.<br />
<br />
Every day of the week leading up to the event had something Ironman related scheduled. It was a bit much. With the suggestion of Coach Scott that "swim practice was optional" if we had shit to take care of, I skipped it. And I skipped Tuesday's run practice, too (not that I've ever gone to a run GTS...). Instead I swam on my own and ran with the fall marathon team on. I spent that time sleeping and cleaning. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVS6FoPoinmLrWEiM6VL8FiKZVfQwoNQmFHeWdpzclbPdcpYVzDtlr3m0ZFlRgPbWzDPn3HJ-m1HcP7EeZGiD0an1thZksc1y4TEuh6wwX_IwzOR1LnBJxuy6Gb7DYRPAxGskjs6zQxo7u/s1600/IMG_3433.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVS6FoPoinmLrWEiM6VL8FiKZVfQwoNQmFHeWdpzclbPdcpYVzDtlr3m0ZFlRgPbWzDPn3HJ-m1HcP7EeZGiD0an1thZksc1y4TEuh6wwX_IwzOR1LnBJxuy6Gb7DYRPAxGskjs6zQxo7u/s400/IMG_3433.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
Wednesday was the first day of the expo and I was anxious to check in. I headed to Pier 92 around 3pm hoping to beat the rush. There was barely anyone there. The expo was relatively small, but impressively big for an even with less than 3,000 participants. I got in, signed a few death waivers, grabbed my chip, bib, and official Ironman backpack, bought a new Trigger Point roller, and took off back to the office to finish up a couple things before the Team in Training inspiration dinner. This was not one of the Ironman events I was about to skip. <br />
<br />
It was the usual program and it didn't disappoint. Our NYC teammate Mark gave the connection to the cause speech, telling us of his father who was diagnosed with myeloma midseason, reminding us why we were all there. The top fundraiser raised over $141,000. In total, 89 Ironman participants across the country raised about $950,000. I was amazed. I am hoping that since then, we've gone over a million.<br />
<br />
The athletes banquet and mandatory information meeting were scheduled for Thursday night. Though I had hoped to skip the evening events and instead go to Daniel's art reception with Casey, I decided that it would be best for me to go. It wasn't worth it. The entertainment bordered on lame, the food was horrible, and the info meeting had no new information. Waste of time. Matt Long's appearance and speech was the only highlight.<br />
<br />
But everything was overshadowed by what was really on everyone's mind: <a href="http://www.newsday.com/sports/sewage-flow-into-hudson-could-impact-ironman-1.3894628" target="_blank">The sewage dump in the Hudson</a>. As soon as I heard about it, I thought it was a joke. Then I thought of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqNigBNUWOs" target="_blank">this</a>. Then, after chuckling to myself, I thought, "Oh shit. They really could cancel the swim." I spent about seven minutes churning this about in my head and googling articles on the topic. Other participants had been posting on the Ironman US Championship Facebook page with similar questions. Some were seriously freaking out and pissed off. At the end of my seven minutes or so of borderline freaking out, I decided two things (lot's of things come in pairs in this post): 1) I can't control it so don't worry about it. Plan as if I am going to swim. 2) If I don't swim, I'm going to do another Ironman for sure. This one wouldn't count.<br />
<br />
Ironman would announce at 4:30 pm on Friday whether or not the swim was cancelled.<br />
<br />
<i>How did it become Thursday night already?</i> I thought about this as I packed up my gear late that night. It, along with my bike, needed to be checked in on Friday. I laid out my race gear/outfits, as is customary with my kind (SCBkR/TNT rules!), then tossed it into its appropriate bag. I topped up my tires with air for the last time. In the morning, Yvonne and I would make our way to the transition area. Despite skipping practice and hoping to take care of things early on in the week, I knew that once I awoke on Friday morning, the nex 24 hours were going to be insane. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGvDwhF2m2zkkZkTGo2AkatWmAg-81XphTNzSyi4VkM7FEmPRQOSucL7UIE5C4ynmXHjrroRTcmAk00dPEsmtZ6Y2dAWi0ZKGnwp9Sf9P0p08vhQkkPOFdYS2VVdWHjOIoYJJ94ShcAOGm/s1600/IMG_3438.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGvDwhF2m2zkkZkTGo2AkatWmAg-81XphTNzSyi4VkM7FEmPRQOSucL7UIE5C4ynmXHjrroRTcmAk00dPEsmtZ6Y2dAWi0ZKGnwp9Sf9P0p08vhQkkPOFdYS2VVdWHjOIoYJJ94ShcAOGm/s400/IMG_3438.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gear laid out.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gear bagged up.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Friday, 7:30AM<br />
I woke up and showered. I realized this was likely going to be my last shower as a non-Ironman. I loaded up the car, racked my bike, and made my way up to Atlantic Ave where Yvonne is waiting. She jumped in and we head into Manhattan.<br />
<br />
Friday, 9:00AM<br />
Greg Parker, famous for baking wonderful treats and being <a href="http://iamsogayblog.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">so gay</a>, is fundraising for the 7th or 8th time (I can't keep count) and plans on completing yet another season with TNT and crossing another finish line for the cause. I requested a couple banana breads for the weekend from him, and since he was leaving town at noon and I was going to be a bit busy on Saturday, I stopped by his office in Tribecca to pick up the goods. He wished me well, handed me a bag of loafs.<br />
<br />
Friday, 10:00AM<br />
Yvonne's boyfriend Hamsi rode her bike to the transition area earlier that day because he was volunteering that morning. So I dropped Yvonne as close as I could and then parked the car. I parked a couple miles away, but I had my bike to ride, and I actually got to the transition area before she did. Luckily, we beat the first ferry-load of athletes so there was no delay for us. We dropped our gear, scoped out the area, said a quick hello to Hamsi, and headed back toward the car. I suggested we take the shortest route to the car, which included a couple hundred steps. Yvonne agreed. So on the day before we were to cover 140.6 miles, we did a two mile hike.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk0DcXdb_3YZ1xXP4bdpdPq6fXS6TjnT8TIzrV7tWSFhcW-3jkLF9nvzJ3kJo1GebVWjtLKkowW20AK6458_BoyYh4m8lWtbbz5oqgOj7Ne25Q_sGzA5H9ROXlLg8bRpEkqwWbRPrLFQeq/s1600/IMG_3449-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk0DcXdb_3YZ1xXP4bdpdPq6fXS6TjnT8TIzrV7tWSFhcW-3jkLF9nvzJ3kJo1GebVWjtLKkowW20AK6458_BoyYh4m8lWtbbz5oqgOj7Ne25Q_sGzA5H9ROXlLg8bRpEkqwWbRPrLFQeq/s400/IMG_3449-001.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The figurative and literal calm before the storm.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgjbkn16BGIOOBXrUPoslsCF1DmZlEwDkqicke1S-vuuNp7RWB85xJtlzhHZj37KSljsLUMIl7RjKPujBJ_RQUyjHGlqzXMyPejHDAC1phcYJ4j7qxkKbv1TbqqsGrAmH3FSsSe_ARCY0/s1600/IMG_3442.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgjbkn16BGIOOBXrUPoslsCF1DmZlEwDkqicke1S-vuuNp7RWB85xJtlzhHZj37KSljsLUMIl7RjKPujBJ_RQUyjHGlqzXMyPejHDAC1phcYJ4j7qxkKbv1TbqqsGrAmH3FSsSe_ARCY0/s400/IMG_3442.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colline is racked. Here she waited in the rain until the next day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDcU1oUj6ffhUFMQ-XKkOuK-RzlVPb6QVF1ke8SCAC9-BxLPGSIAfywLG24Ij90CeCWeF-4whSdu5segDMvoQCb1jnJOFEyxgXCYWYoziToO0XFIcDS7RVKB1S7_LsbqPVyKedyBc8M6D_/s1600/IMG_3448-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDcU1oUj6ffhUFMQ-XKkOuK-RzlVPb6QVF1ke8SCAC9-BxLPGSIAfywLG24Ij90CeCWeF-4whSdu5segDMvoQCb1jnJOFEyxgXCYWYoziToO0XFIcDS7RVKB1S7_LsbqPVyKedyBc8M6D_/s400/IMG_3448-001.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We were early. This field would be covered in blue bags by the end of the day.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlYrrMi3CkKHqH8V_Yb92NYOfq07q8JAmqzjvnRfTANjk6qrnCcG7c9c-3ZdDCREeuhK-V4RnURskpIYAE-aJAVWPpMAcUTlCSnBBcb7PTjAVOBI50Y68jwPXZq8ZJeItR8ytUOSko7V5P/s1600/IMG_3446-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlYrrMi3CkKHqH8V_Yb92NYOfq07q8JAmqzjvnRfTANjk6qrnCcG7c9c-3ZdDCREeuhK-V4RnURskpIYAE-aJAVWPpMAcUTlCSnBBcb7PTjAVOBI50Y68jwPXZq8ZJeItR8ytUOSko7V5P/s400/IMG_3446-001.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Volunteer Hamsi and Athlete Yvonne</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4iYV5WfpTnyUrAqN8lBaiWtT8vc4XY3llwP4o-xH33KuHeCkUEF0DsFMT2uKpRL97w7NWqBhvr5LV6-WAd1p04EoLWurpzLcWc5Ejo7VQkieArqSyBMIaBIr2nGeo-Mra_1YCuhYRd-7D/s1600/IMG_3451-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4iYV5WfpTnyUrAqN8lBaiWtT8vc4XY3llwP4o-xH33KuHeCkUEF0DsFMT2uKpRL97w7NWqBhvr5LV6-WAd1p04EoLWurpzLcWc5Ejo7VQkieArqSyBMIaBIr2nGeo-Mra_1YCuhYRd-7D/s400/IMG_3451-001.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where do these stairs go? They go up.</td></tr>
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Friday, 12:00PM<br />
I dropped Yvonne off near the Columbus Circle subway stop because I wasn't going back to Brooklyn just yet. Wednesday night I received a text from my good friend Steve.<br />
<br />
"Oh hey we're in a cab heading to the hospital right now."<br />
<br />
He and his wife were expecting a baby boy right about the same time I was expecting to do an Ironman. Sam was early. I stopped by the hospital to pay my first visit to the boy. Good looking kid. It was cute to see his big brother of 2 years, Charlie, interact with him, bouncing between his toy trains and his baby brother. I also learned how to tell whether or not a diaper is a poopy and pee pee diaper or just a poopy diaper, but I'll save that description and those pics for when I start writing a poopy diaper blog. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZr4oKx8ok9YsG5fqr7qM1jHtZD9a24g_HrSWcAdTSI8WA2J8faegLC1zCozRlG8ujO4InZpDsUghIxTbXfqZ4LQ405U5emFQYJ0xXmGSsPNIT2r5aPz1QCMREXb_odTC-XML4XCV6NKYE/s1600/259525_10100672458749126_1044760441_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZr4oKx8ok9YsG5fqr7qM1jHtZD9a24g_HrSWcAdTSI8WA2J8faegLC1zCozRlG8ujO4InZpDsUghIxTbXfqZ4LQ405U5emFQYJ0xXmGSsPNIT2r5aPz1QCMREXb_odTC-XML4XCV6NKYE/s400/259525_10100672458749126_1044760441_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charlie now has both a toy train and a baby brother.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Friday, 2:00PM<br />
Back in October of 2011, I had met Jacques Steinberg on an plane on my way to coach the Nike Women's Marathon in San Francisco. Jacques noticed that I was reading Liz Robbins's book, "<a href="http://www.harpercollins.com/books/Race-Like-No-Other-Liz-Robbins/?isbn=9780061373145" target="_blank">A Race Like No Other</a>," and commented that his friend wrote the book. He snapped my photo with it, texted it to her, and told me he had written a book called, "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/You-Are-Ironman-Finishing-Triathlon/dp/0670023027" target="_blank">You Are an Ironman</a>," which I have now read and enjoyed. We chatted about training, shared anecdotes and exchanged information. Liz contacted me about meeting the fall season TNT NYC Marathon team, which went over awesomely. And I put Jacques in touch with the TNT office in hopes to do some joint ventures. He wrote this <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2012/06/24/nyregion/guy-adami-wall-street-warrior-takes-on-the-ironman-triathlon.html?pagewanted=all" target="_blank">NY Times article</a> published in June.<br />
<br />
Jacques was at the expo on Friday signing his book, so I thought I'd stop in and reintroduce myself and get an autograph. He remembered me. We chatted a bit about my training and his writing. He's a nice guy and I'm glad I had the chance to reconnect. The book is great and I could relate to a few of the people spotlighted in its pages. It was a great coincidence that I met Jacques on that plane, and I'm glad I did.<br />
<br />
Friday, 4:30PM<br />
I finally made it back to Brooklyn. There was still a lot to do. I went out grocery shopping for a going away party that was being held in my backyard on Sunday. <a href="http://asouthernchapter.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Casey decided she had to go to grad school in NC</a> and leave Brooklyn. It was a pot luck party and I had offered to bring the meat. I'm good at meat. I grabbed some hockey pucks (frozen burger patties), sausage, and chicken thighs. I figured I'd marinate the chicken in hoisin and chipotle sauce. It didn't take long and always comes out tasty.<br />
<br />
Friday, 6:00PM<br />
I have to eat. My plan was to be in bed by 8pm. I knew that wasn't really going to happen, but I had to eat. Casey and I met up for a meal. Well, we met up so she could watch me eat. She didn't eat at all. We went out for Thai carbo-loading and I ordered a couple appetizers and some noodles. Casey had a beer. We got to catch up and had some great one on one time, which I was hoping to get that week. It wasn't exactly a coincidence that Casey's last week was also Ironman week. She planned around my Ironman, choosing to leave after I had completed it so she could be here to support me. Great friend.<br />
<br />
Friday, 8:00PM<br />
We walked to Rachel's so I could grab an air mattress for my brother and his fiancee, Kait, to use that night. I had gotten a text from Ed a bit earlier saying he wouldn't be rolling in until probably 10pm. He was well aware that I wanted to get to bed by 8pm and apologized. But I didn't mind. There was no way I was going to be ready for bed by 8pm. Plus, Ed was saving my ass in so many ways that week.<br />
<br />
Ed and Kait signed up to volunteer at the transtion area Saturday morning. This ensured they would be able to see me exit the swim, get on the bike, get off the bike, and start to run. This also meant they could pick up my bike and gear for me and bring it back to Manhattan so I wouldn't have to after finishing the Ironman. And, they had to get on a 5am ferry, so they were going to get up with me at 2am and bring me to Pier 34. Great, huh? But that's not all. Ed found a way to take care of the parents. He found a volunteer spot at a bike aid station on the Palisades which was easier to get to from Schenectady than it was from Brooklyn. That meant my parents didn't have to come down on Friday and spend the night which was great. They are both night owls- the whole family is. And I was very concerned about getting to sleep and waking up at a reasonable hour with them in my apartment. Ed solved all these issues. Yes, he's a good man.<br />
<br />
Friday, 9:00PM<br />
I bagged up my fuel, prepared some Gatorade, and set aside all that I needed in the morning. I laid in bed, dozing in and out of sleep until Ed and Kait arrived.<br />
<br />
Friday, 10:00PM<br />
When they did, we were pretty quick about going to bed. We all had a very long day ahead of us.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWyKTuYHzJ5b-FYajpJXgX1oaj5zh4HTwzvCkEe1-jOF6txy0bkNFovJkKXW6kzjdSCPb6_syv9wfe6B0lKohq-3UUmZNU7lmECh56ueMpuzMz3SuKtYX73yB1xZQfZdVJh5iMto14q-Q-/s1600/IMG_3453-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWyKTuYHzJ5b-FYajpJXgX1oaj5zh4HTwzvCkEe1-jOF6txy0bkNFovJkKXW6kzjdSCPb6_syv9wfe6B0lKohq-3UUmZNU7lmECh56ueMpuzMz3SuKtYX73yB1xZQfZdVJh5iMto14q-Q-/s400/IMG_3453-001.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fuel.</td></tr>
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Race Day, 2:00AM<br />
I got a solid 3 hours of sleep, I think. Not bad. I began my race morning routine of drinking water, making egg, sausage and cheese sandwiches, and trying to poop. I accomplished two out of three tasks. We were out the door by 3am, through the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel, and up the Henry Hudson Parkway in less than 30 minutes. Ed dropped me off and went to find parking. He wished me luck and I thanked him again.<br />
<br />
Bus load after bus load of athletes pulled in to the pier. Most everyone looked very relaxed. I found a teammate and fellow marathon coach, Mike, and we waited patiently for the ferries to begin loading. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeiqf8NCoJsd-HqM0z42p3k0xeshfhiFFuVSRt9k7l7cPAXVl6EwvGkXF_0jDSkSR8BnM4NdxZum29uykvHwS1tms2Qz1hUBwz_qiV_tPn1Cf90u98RfB4fTyhNYDTvS2DCP0HVOKLV_k/s1600/290819_10151080949176530_197202572_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeiqf8NCoJsd-HqM0z42p3k0xeshfhiFFuVSRt9k7l7cPAXVl6EwvGkXF_0jDSkSR8BnM4NdxZum29uykvHwS1tms2Qz1hUBwz_qiV_tPn1Cf90u98RfB4fTyhNYDTvS2DCP0HVOKLV_k/s400/290819_10151080949176530_197202572_o.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's my "It's 3:30am, what the hell?" face.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP204tY2Vh6GrNgGs41FLc6tAV-aTIj9DA8knpP34MUIgdoNYT4gX1NEMKIgdxfd6YTSsd5GQVOASimDZTtIwbOV0oa8L771nIaOSN53L8n12zSjFfr3vq4RKDRL_5pN46faSGeC9nHdAl/s1600/IMG_3458-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP204tY2Vh6GrNgGs41FLc6tAV-aTIj9DA8knpP34MUIgdoNYT4gX1NEMKIgdxfd6YTSsd5GQVOASimDZTtIwbOV0oa8L771nIaOSN53L8n12zSjFfr3vq4RKDRL_5pN46faSGeC9nHdAl/s400/IMG_3458-001.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Athletes file onto the ferries.</td></tr>
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Race Day, 4:00AM<br />
The ferry ride to the transition area took about 40 minutes. I ate my huge breakfast sandwich and drank my water. We where probably the 6th or 7th ferry to arrive and the transition area was already bustling with activity as athletes made last minute preparations. I filled my jetstream bottle with water and put my fuel in the appropriate transition bags. I made a few visits to the porta-potties. Coach Scott spotted me and asked how I was doing. I was calm. Or maybe I was just really tired. No, I was calm. And confident. He agreed that I should be confident (as any good coach would right before an epic event was about to begin). I could see the excitement gleaming from his eyes. His work was done. Today, he'd just be a cheerleader.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJExGWoElqTnrVfnETenZh9QuJxnBXHxcXjNDu64CpORIcnXZCAcwjKE3gOcnO8wSN0OvS-d5WTfUfLTVtLqtCFbObmhiRpVRSBr4PHE6TK7vqxvpeWSByclURKd7KXG6jfANZrjR32991/s1600/IMG_3459-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJExGWoElqTnrVfnETenZh9QuJxnBXHxcXjNDu64CpORIcnXZCAcwjKE3gOcnO8wSN0OvS-d5WTfUfLTVtLqtCFbObmhiRpVRSBr4PHE6TK7vqxvpeWSByclURKd7KXG6jfANZrjR32991/s400/IMG_3459-001.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last photo.</td></tr>
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Race Day, 6:00AM <br />
The sun was up. The sky is overcast and everyone was wishing it to stay that way. I strip down to my speedo, check my last bag, and line up for the ferry, wetsuit over my shoulder, goggles wrapped around my wrist, and swim cap in hand.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4bMSazzMhYVXHHBwyQLiKmZWgk-zCn_ZmnUURStMpelVxsuxlFJFJsMcfOy3MzRH2fYA-6FRCvQKokxEvJROrM4CNxfEFqiKwpVbeHBYvYjaIXZNum8L89tUEbYSwUoCrmQBIOGwaBnvA/s1600/256300_10101374264704380_219726915_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4bMSazzMhYVXHHBwyQLiKmZWgk-zCn_ZmnUURStMpelVxsuxlFJFJsMcfOy3MzRH2fYA-6FRCvQKokxEvJROrM4CNxfEFqiKwpVbeHBYvYjaIXZNum8L89tUEbYSwUoCrmQBIOGwaBnvA/s400/256300_10101374264704380_219726915_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Transition area at dawn (taken by Kait).</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJKfYQp46mmuSXNucLsfOs9DlvozeR_d8tUBtqieR6yDxcHz5i9sRDaJFldmT5ViyVMhGYreJ2Euiz7xwCovzM5Mx9lPCudzV4gRbcTiyzH02FdrTAMg7aMJ4DNq3L-U0FiM8o-naL5VC0/s1600/621932_10101374264419950_1445858677_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJKfYQp46mmuSXNucLsfOs9DlvozeR_d8tUBtqieR6yDxcHz5i9sRDaJFldmT5ViyVMhGYreJ2Euiz7xwCovzM5Mx9lPCudzV4gRbcTiyzH02FdrTAMg7aMJ4DNq3L-U0FiM8o-naL5VC0/s400/621932_10101374264419950_1445858677_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Transition area at dawn (taken by Kait).</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl5ooJOPlAFyYcRMieOGpoDXLfrwvi1WhhKKA3toOSR7YsCxF-ax2K2e3OKnpwaVVQxu4X8AUitGSoKFWRSWYyfny7O4sGyY_5c3uIIwcoxdOgD4mjB5nZirMmvzoABTvWdBAeL6lTdwAa/s1600/20120811-LPR_01161.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl5ooJOPlAFyYcRMieOGpoDXLfrwvi1WhhKKA3toOSR7YsCxF-ax2K2e3OKnpwaVVQxu4X8AUitGSoKFWRSWYyfny7O4sGyY_5c3uIIwcoxdOgD4mjB5nZirMmvzoABTvWdBAeL6lTdwAa/s400/20120811-LPR_01161.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was on the ferry behind this one.</td></tr>
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<br />
Eight ferries in all load and leave the transition area. As we board, we were cheered on by the volunteers and the spectators that bought the $50 pass to be here. Each ferry got a cruise-like send off. One by one we left and I suddenly felt a jolt of excitement. I watched as the transition area became smaller and smaller as we moved north toward the start. The ferry moved slowly, probably so that it wouldn't disturb the swim course. I watched the buoys. A teammate pointed toward a boat basin on the shore.<br />
<br />
"That's the halfway point."<br />
<br />
We inched past it. I watched the water, trying to tell what the current was doing. It looked like it was flowing upstream at the moment. Because the Hudson is affected by the tides, this was what we were expecting. It should turn in our favor by 7:30 or so. The ferry continued to inch forward, deliberately slow. Maybe it was also trying to build tension and drama. Because it was.<br />
<br />
Then we were there.<br />
<br />
Race Start: 6:50AM<br />
The sight before me was amazing.<br />
<br />
There was a 90 foot barge with professional athletes waiting with anticipation aboard. Two large ferries, like the one I was on, loaded with athletes was docked onto the back of the barge. The athletes were filing out, but holding back behind the pros, waiting their turn. The backdrop was the beautiful tree filled and cliff ladened Palisades Park.<br />
<br />
Also on the barge was a clock, ticking upward toward 6:50AM. Then it was.<br />
<br />
<b>BOOM!</b><br />
<br />
The canon went off and the pro men dove into the water and powered forward. Everyone on my ferry- on all the ferries- erupted with cheers. Within seconds they were past the first marker. I turned to look at their target- the majestic George Washington Bridge, with the New York City Skyline behind it. It was an awe inspiring sight. The energy in the air was potent. I turned back and the pro women had taken their mark. The clocked moved steadily toward 6:55AM. Then...<br />
<br />
<b>BOOM!</b><br />
<br />
The pro women were in and swimming toward the GW. The ferries roared with more cheers. The barge filled quickly with age group athletes. One ferry emptied, moved from the barge, and another full ferry took its place. I watched with amazement at this dance. I watched the pros thrash through the water. I looked up once again at the GW. <br />
<br />
Bad. Ass.<br />
<br />
A helicopter was circling above, no doubt capturing the moment on film. I hoped they were. I have yet to find a picture that captures what I saw and experienced.<br />
<br />
Then it was our turn.<br />
<br />
<b>BOOM!</b><br />
<br />
[Part two will follow shortly. Thanks for letting me indulge by breaking this entry up into manageable chunks. To continue reading, <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2012/09/ironman-us-championship-000000.html">click here</a>.]<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkKmwCsEQgEePyQTPhB2vk5GVEvqVAVjhiEzrCfr8he7xc9zAwC-0HKz3iOZcdHakx_fbgMx-jGaKO03WuFzr3tSvG_5iVIX4kWIIKmkPelHCGt6ZNyKj6I_vRXSj-MDkL3aPdRt4wZp2G/s1600/-801a30535be79f7c.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkKmwCsEQgEePyQTPhB2vk5GVEvqVAVjhiEzrCfr8he7xc9zAwC-0HKz3iOZcdHakx_fbgMx-jGaKO03WuFzr3tSvG_5iVIX4kWIIKmkPelHCGt6ZNyKj6I_vRXSj-MDkL3aPdRt4wZp2G/s400/-801a30535be79f7c.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pros dive in at the start! (<span class="author_byline"><span class="author vcard"><a class="fn" href="http://photos.nj.com/star-ledger/2012/08/ironman_us_championship_14.html">Mike Roy/The Star-Ledger</a>)</span>
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<br />runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-46373899203725248542012-08-06T15:32:00.000-04:002012-08-06T22:11:30.058-04:00Key WorkoutsKey workouts are done and in less than 5 days I will be jumping into the Hudson River. They feel like the distant past. But these two weekends were hardcore in sweat, effort, and fun times and are worth mentioning.<br />
<br />
<b>Brick to Boilermaker</b> <br />
<br />
I had signed up for the Boilermaker on July 8th months ago. At the time, ducking out on a workout and altering my schedule to fit it in didn't seem so bad. I love this event and have done it the prior two years. I'm hoping to never have to end that streak, really. But then Coach Scott sent out a summary of our key workouts and on the same weekend as the Boilermaker was this:<br />
<br />
<b>Friday:</b> 2 mile swim <br />
<b>Saturday:</b> 70 mile ride/18-21 mile run BRICK (on Ironman course)<br />
<b>Sunday:</b> 50-60 mile ride<br />
<br />
Holy Shit. This would be are biggest brick of the training period and our best chance to mimic the course and race day. My heart sunk into my stomach. <i>How could I possibly skip this workout or even consider doing it elsewhere? I really shouldn't do the Boilermaker. I have to stay here and do this workout.</i> For me, this workout was imperative. Still, I wasn't about to give up on my Boilermaker dreams.<br />
<br />
So this is the plan that I hatched...<br />
<br />
<b>Friday:</b> 2 mile swim<br />
<b>Saturday:</b> 70 mile ride/18-21 mile run BRICK (on Ironman course), drive 5+ hours to Utica, NY arriving around midnight.<br />
<b>Sunday:</b> awake at 5am, race the Boilermaker 15k, drink beer, go to Kristen's parent's house and drink more beer, make s'mores.<br />
<b>Monday:</b> drive back to Brooklyn.<br />
<br />
Great idea right? Especially when you also factor in the aweful cold I had gotten from sharing a tent with Casey and the gang (not to be confused with K C and the Sunshine Band) the weekend before while camping. I had skipped all my workouts that week, including the 2 mile swim, hoping to recover, but by Friday night I still seriously doubted I'd be able to pull off any part of this weekend. Of course, I had to try. Even if I had to cut mileage short, I had to try.<br />
<br />
I dragged my ass out of bed Saturday morning and drove up to Ross Dock to meet the team. Throughout the workout I was a snotty mess, stopping often to blow my nose. I think I had more snot on my jersey than salt stains which was remarkable given that it was 95 degrees and horribly humid that day.<br />
<br />
But all in all, things went smoothly. My legs cramped up at around mile 16 of my run (a familiar thing to me, unfortunately), which had me worried. What was the cause? Conditioning or not enough salt? It was probably both. I ran through the cramps and housed that workout. I was pretty shocked at how well it went, given my condition and the weather that day. Coach Scott spent some time riding along side me hammering home the importance of nailing my nutrition plan down. That was great. That alone was worth waking up, and hauling my ass to New Jersey. As for the rest of the weekend, I'll let the photos do the story telling.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKdri9tIpMHJgrOw1KHyLL7lfIgmsI3LzDiEp_uHQh777lJwmrM_lwlJ79YX1pivBUTaVXpAj66UI37UUBgtKXBuKY4YBm8Td9zyMVdCuD6vC2L_l3Akh5q9KAcf_ZxwlcE3dumTzB38vA/s1600/339486_10151889424235184_1218223358_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKdri9tIpMHJgrOw1KHyLL7lfIgmsI3LzDiEp_uHQh777lJwmrM_lwlJ79YX1pivBUTaVXpAj66UI37UUBgtKXBuKY4YBm8Td9zyMVdCuD6vC2L_l3Akh5q9KAcf_ZxwlcE3dumTzB38vA/s400/339486_10151889424235184_1218223358_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SCBkR celebrating after completing the Boilermaker.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYDrjbLyBbMTJjYVySnTZbeHsDYHiiELT360N5sHWg98vWros82nZewjydGuq25DLlUh6YuyfWDJwYXFLsa4l5UdObt7uWyiehepj2oydUZP3hko9jgENgY6TLeKu0m_0bcWhhIg7c9XOp/s1600/552468_10101631092444598_872795205_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYDrjbLyBbMTJjYVySnTZbeHsDYHiiELT360N5sHWg98vWros82nZewjydGuq25DLlUh6YuyfWDJwYXFLsa4l5UdObt7uWyiehepj2oydUZP3hko9jgENgY6TLeKu0m_0bcWhhIg7c9XOp/s400/552468_10101631092444598_872795205_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Hollie and Ed.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK4ZvNak3HppnCQRk4kyQWOlNDHJu9XxgAzal540YG9gZbR03g3x_9n7TjYfj2WRavNrouWB2M-LhUOnWuq_VTBx7x6ifiw7wF0Tt8fMRPCjOM85IghRyKvL6WJsmTSA1J8HUA5WysOpAD/s1600/411890_10151889430210184_220132993_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK4ZvNak3HppnCQRk4kyQWOlNDHJu9XxgAzal540YG9gZbR03g3x_9n7TjYfj2WRavNrouWB2M-LhUOnWuq_VTBx7x6ifiw7wF0Tt8fMRPCjOM85IghRyKvL6WJsmTSA1J8HUA5WysOpAD/s400/411890_10151889430210184_220132993_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying a "ron" fire.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Mb3ZSCS-xhplQUIAkUR2t8kCia9rzgDuWhWFuuJ3BnsLjjluCd5QoifKHaxrPz3biZC33gbc6EPgUSGGHvQNVR5xy8ortNDboBjMZy894u4EhPcJ_h5aB4EudOcDC68j9Waw-ghuT4Ae/s1600/469581_10151889439050184_1292126328_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Mb3ZSCS-xhplQUIAkUR2t8kCia9rzgDuWhWFuuJ3BnsLjjluCd5QoifKHaxrPz3biZC33gbc6EPgUSGGHvQNVR5xy8ortNDboBjMZy894u4EhPcJ_h5aB4EudOcDC68j9Waw-ghuT4Ae/s400/469581_10151889439050184_1292126328_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lounging poolside at Kristen's parent's house.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf7l6eRF-iECLzf_l-CDjrWl9M-bUaBBhFYTgDUK1SQ1qjpQeTDI9wVq-N7cf7pYECnJUiNs6j9QU8jO9BytbAfqIRDk8Yk4m6dhVvqGFepml2xSdLyoHubhY5c52MwyvpsLTibaIduMkn/s1600/IMG_3578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf7l6eRF-iECLzf_l-CDjrWl9M-bUaBBhFYTgDUK1SQ1qjpQeTDI9wVq-N7cf7pYECnJUiNs6j9QU8jO9BytbAfqIRDk8Yk4m6dhVvqGFepml2xSdLyoHubhY5c52MwyvpsLTibaIduMkn/s400/IMG_3578.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monday morning breakfast.</td></tr>
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<br />
<b>Lake Placid Ironman</b><br />
<br />
<br />
Our last big workout weekend was a couple weeks ago and it coincided with the Lake Placid Ironman. At the coaches' suggestion, a bunch of us went up to Lake Placid to do our workout there and to view the event. And when I say big weekend, I mean just that...<br />
<br />
<b>Friday: </b>6+ hour drive to Lake Placid, arriving at midnight<br />
<b>Saturday:</b> awake at 5am, start workout with a 1.8 mile swim in Mirror Lake, complete 100 miles on the bike, and top it off with an hour run.<br />
<b>Sunday:</b> awake at 5 am, watch IMLP swim start, 20 mile run, nap, watch IMLP finish until midnight<br />
<b>Monday:</b> up at 7am (slept in), 1.2 mile swim in Mirror Lake, drive 6+ hours home.<br />
<br />
I spent most of Saturday with Yvonne and was glad to have the company. We are about the same pace on the bike, though she's a stronger hill climber, and I'm more daring on the descents. I had wanted to do the full 112 miles and skip the brick 1 hour run after. I've been confident about the running, but the nutrition on the bike is what has had me nervous. Can I really eat that many calories, drink that much water, and take in enough salt over the span of 8 hours? The coaches convinced me that 100 miles in Lake Placid would basically be the same as 112 miles in NJ, so I stuck with their recommended brick plan.I was happy with how my nutrition went. And the run was cake. I felt so good, I wanted to just do the 20 miles right then and there and take Sunday off.<br />
<br />
Sunday's run, started out rough. My legs were very sluggish and felt heavy. Again Yvonne and I started out together which was nice. After watching the swim start, we ran from town out on Route 73 and turned around after about 10 miles. On the way back, I took off, feeling much more loose. And when I arrived back in town, I happen to run by <a href="http://www.mattslongrun.com/" target="_blank">Matt Long</a>, who said to me, "How's your day going?" as I zipped by. I responded, "My day is going great, thanks." There wasn't enough time for me to also say, "Hey, you're Matt Long! Your story is quite inspirational to me. Also, I was volunteering at the last aid station the year you returned to Lake Placid after your accident in 2009."<br />
<br />
I finished off that run, grabbed a cheeseburger, hot dog, protein shake, and V8, then went back to the hostel we were staying at, showered and napped. We headed back to town in time to see Maureen, fellow TNTer and honored teammate, run into town (completing her first out and back). I was very happy to catch her and she looked great- strong and smart. I was encouraged.<br />
<br />
We hung out at the finish line for 4 hours, watching competitors come in. As the day got later, the athletes looked more beat up. An Ironman finish line is quite a dramatic thing, especially because of the cutoff time. I was glad to see fellow teammates Maureen and Dave Dorfman (another honored teammate) finish this epic event.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie28ycnWfmCkV-HO5XyTMMwI9IvcN0cO0FlIXjWvL2HDzx4Qns6j9Rp47qsPw0IkDjLY_QaZkyqGcCOQU0KNW4QKt_cGxyRIMF6QvDJCHJi_Vzq2GzR1ZK-Ta3ANl7iSM14Rntbew1AHTO/s1600/IMG_3593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie28ycnWfmCkV-HO5XyTMMwI9IvcN0cO0FlIXjWvL2HDzx4Qns6j9Rp47qsPw0IkDjLY_QaZkyqGcCOQU0KNW4QKt_cGxyRIMF6QvDJCHJi_Vzq2GzR1ZK-Ta3ANl7iSM14Rntbew1AHTO/s400/IMG_3593.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was home for the weekend.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwenmAvbmTH1iLgeBmMNoPaekkxLr577OB6LzEB4BBVJ5VnfrJDpbneKw2_osPtmAdnBuKsJz4Mggax_G9Tncdt8oDnQAaTcfQunfNjKHGWaaSe_WLmJBcUpmY43qGXRQUn32NXKgjFua/s1600/IMG_3599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwenmAvbmTH1iLgeBmMNoPaekkxLr577OB6LzEB4BBVJ5VnfrJDpbneKw2_osPtmAdnBuKsJz4Mggax_G9Tncdt8oDnQAaTcfQunfNjKHGWaaSe_WLmJBcUpmY43qGXRQUn32NXKgjFua/s400/IMG_3599.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yvonne and I during the ride.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAQPaOIBXik41mGePpvzr7XYlV__lYULsHDseLuh_RAO0aBJxJUWs_ERNS8J7HoSnVqcvqmD5tjr-WJKlygDyv3D095olvl5rnbb-bYd6TbHdwa9lWpiEphA4X9WGjf_Gd1X-SNcWr-mVq/s1600/IMG_3602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAQPaOIBXik41mGePpvzr7XYlV__lYULsHDseLuh_RAO0aBJxJUWs_ERNS8J7HoSnVqcvqmD5tjr-WJKlygDyv3D095olvl5rnbb-bYd6TbHdwa9lWpiEphA4X9WGjf_Gd1X-SNcWr-mVq/s400/IMG_3602.JPG" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fuel! Courtesy of Rachel.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlS1O6ziYXxxzwU-GW1JKrTJOCuTcYx3w410l0VbMjNUI99oNkLWLx1zd03Vs7v5KOEVphM7lhRLddjKX9Us7hZMGu_e6FRYDZzmNz7KmEdJuyd21EGjtxuC0GjUIXuKIYJ2j4hgf8y08H/s1600/IMG_3609.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlS1O6ziYXxxzwU-GW1JKrTJOCuTcYx3w410l0VbMjNUI99oNkLWLx1zd03Vs7v5KOEVphM7lhRLddjKX9Us7hZMGu_e6FRYDZzmNz7KmEdJuyd21EGjtxuC0GjUIXuKIYJ2j4hgf8y08H/s400/IMG_3609.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Swim start.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiul7itmZ8b6J5BR2TwcXvS8MwCJb7ZRDjYQlNcJBX5cED4eV20iFHEzf_ebm6Fv8YgjykdeD-khL8FBYG1CZwBzsGR3rFsMvo16dYaLaQqjW0rIOLAcYkGtMM8xTHuExv3TzctdM2LVg-1/s1600/IMG_3615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiul7itmZ8b6J5BR2TwcXvS8MwCJb7ZRDjYQlNcJBX5cED4eV20iFHEzf_ebm6Fv8YgjykdeD-khL8FBYG1CZwBzsGR3rFsMvo16dYaLaQqjW0rIOLAcYkGtMM8xTHuExv3TzctdM2LVg-1/s400/IMG_3615.JPG" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maureen looks great.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFm5R_njg471kW3Xv83MwyLJchd468FnXA_dtFIY-VQHEYFI2ZscrNZJBsP4ZnAhwdpeL0x67aTv8ehxXhZWyTj7B64qs1-mEu_-6GwE4jgE0uGYvh8HRV9JJXKH6CMGTUA012dyRXpU1-/s1600/IMAG1140.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFm5R_njg471kW3Xv83MwyLJchd468FnXA_dtFIY-VQHEYFI2ZscrNZJBsP4ZnAhwdpeL0x67aTv8ehxXhZWyTj7B64qs1-mEu_-6GwE4jgE0uGYvh8HRV9JJXKH6CMGTUA012dyRXpU1-/s400/IMAG1140.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monday morning swim with Yvonne and Hamsi.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhAVI_DB7wkMEDyF6bt-XjFJdG8Aht8wIBuEgFqtSrJiz3VIWhT-h_QvQmslauBVa9WLbuTUWUcNTOdQ9MsFgRK3S9mRiYs2xQglhVMs0__hizuY0SvRSpa9z5XCm317kIX7ybRIg8HsL/s1600/IMG_3621.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhAVI_DB7wkMEDyF6bt-XjFJdG8Aht8wIBuEgFqtSrJiz3VIWhT-h_QvQmslauBVa9WLbuTUWUcNTOdQ9MsFgRK3S9mRiYs2xQglhVMs0__hizuY0SvRSpa9z5XCm317kIX7ybRIg8HsL/s400/IMG_3621.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monday morning breakfast.</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
So now I'm well into my taper and I'm thinking about this thing all the time, visualizing the feel of the course, thinking about what mile two of the swim will feel like, walking myself through the transition areas, and pacing myself over the hills. I imagine feeling good at mile 20 of the run and also consider what I'd feel like if I start cramping early. I visualize eating four potatoes, one Gu, 14 ounces of Ironman drink, and two salt shots per hour on the bike. I picture the aid stations, taking a bottle of water and racking it, then taking a bottle of Ironman drink and racking it, then refilling my Jetstream bottle for easier hydration. I go over this over and over again as I ride the subway, lay in bed, or sit at the dinner table. It's meditative. I remind myself to be mindful and I know that I can deal with all that comes. I'm excited.runjoelrunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626337293390210852noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1949777389983764062.post-3865824080038319062012-07-13T14:07:00.000-04:002012-07-13T16:41:08.338-04:00CollineOur first ride together was in Prospect Park, tackling the North Hill about 11 times. It was in November, I believe. At that point I had my bike for over a year already, but hadn't yet taken her out for a spin. But just months earlier, I committed to this Ironman, and it was time to see what state of cycling fitness I would be starting my training from. We did about 33 miles that day and I was pooped by the end.<br />
<br />
My cousin Chrissy and her husband Chris own and operate a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/trekbicyclestoregreensboronc" target="_blank">TREK store in Greensboro, NC</a>. If you need a bike, service, advice, or whatever, give them a visit. They are awesome. My siblings and I made the trip to visit them during their grand opening weekend. Though overwhelmingly busy, Chris still made time for me. I didn't know what I was getting into, but Chris held my hand and walked me through the process from price point to fit (really- I got a 2 hour fitting session). My brother and I bought bikes that same night.<br />
<br />
Chris believed the Madone 4.5 was right for me. I know now that he was dead on.<br />
<br />
Just as when I run, I was able to see the world from a different perspective on the bike. Riding through Brooklyn and cutting across Manhattan to get to the bike path wasn't as scary as I had thought it would be. Riding from the GW north back into NY from NJ gave me a sense of accomplishment and planted the seed of wondering whether I would ride all the way to my parent's house, 180ish miles away, some day.<br />
<br />
The hills of the Adironacks as well as the Catskills didn't disappoint in their visual beauty or in the challenge they posed. I got some damn good, unexpected hill training on some weekends, that's for sure. There always seemed to be hills... <br />
<br />
This bike model, the Trek Madone, was<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jens4drpRHY" target="_blank"> named so by Lance Armstrong</a>,
after a challenging climb he would do to test himself in the Alps.
After my several rides over these past months, culminating with the <a href="http://ieatmilesforbreakfast.blogspot.com/2012/07/syracuse-703.html" target="_blank">Syracuse 70.3</a> event, it occurred to me that my bike should be named for the hills we tackled together.<br />
<br />
So I named her Colline- French for "hill". Here are a few pictures of our adventures together so far. Enjoy!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04I7tj8W15o8ZoLHxMs_mNcRteLhIyEwTtQny5cQPcHLBKazUaKS1P8ehH5iUBrLakAce5KFcm8HeYix6xo6QDw7xEJKzoaKuQooEoredwkSRvQIwGLRqOeKn858OfXFfxhEGwd42Mpwq/s1600/IMG_0936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04I7tj8W15o8ZoLHxMs_mNcRteLhIyEwTtQny5cQPcHLBKazUaKS1P8ehH5iUBrLakAce5KFcm8HeYix6xo6QDw7xEJKzoaKuQooEoredwkSRvQIwGLRqOeKn858OfXFfxhEGwd42Mpwq/s400/IMG_0936.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About to be fitted. March 2011.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBvFMosdyWBqnsCRakhFPKMCB-mQ0oS6Qnc8pmwKbQhWmteCPu72qcMu3cNDRmR6RzEOrA4c8D_p8G1z9xM-smZ0BFVD2ri9cMZ0iaVhSVAZZlFVUvd2gSLeTPMq0ztr92_dFIL_8pZEZ1/s1600/IMG_0933.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBvFMosdyWBqnsCRakhFPKMCB-mQ0oS6Qnc8pmwKbQhWmteCPu72qcMu3cNDRmR6RzEOrA4c8D_p8G1z9xM-smZ0BFVD2ri9cMZ0iaVhSVAZZlFVUvd2gSLeTPMq0ztr92_dFIL_8pZEZ1/s400/IMG_0933.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chris, attaching Colline to the mount, during my fitting session. March 2011.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4HU9a01rnNOYeEuppw6NHn-uI3rFa_kYBYyN0hHeIt5OenA-FD91NOL-Mo7P_fk-Aivj8ibM7JztX356iL51_ujgMajZdEHKNUGxwsfxwGDtrtNnB-AUqjNXJ1HAsGP_ZNECCQKfpDf5e/s1600/h-prospect+park+11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4HU9a01rnNOYeEuppw6NHn-uI3rFa_kYBYyN0hHeIt5OenA-FD91NOL-Mo7P_fk-Aivj8ibM7JztX356iL51_ujgMajZdEHKNUGxwsfxwGDtrtNnB-AUqjNXJ1HAsGP_ZNECCQKfpDf5e/s400/h-prospect+park+11.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eleven loops of Prospect Park- one of our first rides. November 2011</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhzq-JtviTXAxR0UswoPEOooa5uCUAJOpThKsa9YwZ8c5TIs71Y6TmZO_WML10IfuJ2e50QQ8lt1vH26c48gpSMpNY_Y_ZVEcKsL0sFT6HeSSF_QiDHRAbkr62lfQj4K4kk_WxemjDYVSI/s1600/IMG_2473.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhzq-JtviTXAxR0UswoPEOooa5uCUAJOpThKsa9YwZ8c5TIs71Y6TmZO_WML10IfuJ2e50QQ8lt1vH26c48gpSMpNY_Y_ZVEcKsL0sFT6HeSSF_QiDHRAbkr62lfQj4K4kk_WxemjDYVSI/s400/IMG_2473.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colline and the Kreitler rollers, which I've spent dozens of hours on (and sometimes falling off). Winter 2012.</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyzyz19tKLtHxe08ISW-8913lb88ZsO9x5wvOwJtis3qsDDP0TaE5qc70wbs1SuDW7967rCOJ3YLc7jAoVAqw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Rolling along for hours and hours... But it did wonders for my stability and form. Winter 2012.</span> </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMi2HVv5Y9GLKyxRFczjdHH0kX63nTMwwLD7YcZoe2fprFnrDdu15CK7xRe6_79ZxyAQ4435LGhWlAsLpOL7AGY8zE7l8Ob3hoGnd1ZyoOAZutPv0Hk9Cw3Nc3ytdENXosanmeBjuwMDD7/s1600/IMG_2825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMi2HVv5Y9GLKyxRFczjdHH0kX63nTMwwLD7YcZoe2fprFnrDdu15CK7xRe6_79ZxyAQ4435LGhWlAsLpOL7AGY8zE7l8Ob3hoGnd1ZyoOAZutPv0Hk9Cw3Nc3ytdENXosanmeBjuwMDD7/s400/IMG_2825.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking south from the George Washington Bridge at dusk on our first ride to NJ. Winter 2012</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQpqhqRbehrBDAw28z_OxOwyvOMepYNOMLsw0HfOEICqrlRfhcyttIy8Vwm-ferVD-GbpX2iXz4PXxyuS-TqXV3-MLL6945i82XXd0ZyFN2jkQP3dGh6TfF1AammTOCBclm_aAoDf1uRLj/s1600/IMG_3013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQpqhqRbehrBDAw28z_OxOwyvOMepYNOMLsw0HfOEICqrlRfhcyttIy8Vwm-ferVD-GbpX2iXz4PXxyuS-TqXV3-MLL6945i82XXd0ZyFN2jkQP3dGh6TfF1AammTOCBclm_aAoDf1uRLj/s400/IMG_3013.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing back into NY State on our first ride up 9W. Spring 2012.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSgJZryJh062SmCO2AngM7WvRn1YLhBcF2fl_hPh8WflLttXhQIGZ_JIVF-Z2cXuNVmAiT5LuELuKmpPKMoyzJWNQvAXLKCB8gmMkuRppbvt7YrNevOrETdTrG45wFaW7lZ9FGq7aNPjZJ/s1600/IMG_3014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSgJZryJh062SmCO2AngM7WvRn1YLhBcF2fl_hPh8WflLttXhQIGZ_JIVF-Z2cXuNVmAiT5LuELuKmpPKMoyzJWNQvAXLKCB8gmMkuRppbvt7YrNevOrETdTrG45wFaW7lZ9FGq7aNPjZJ/s400/IMG_3014.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's the Tappan Zee Bridge. We turned round just passed this and headed home to complete a 74 mile ride that day. Spring 2012.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU_cCkINsO1L6j0-ro2KTaA_EIJriFw2naX_K7dO_qaPwLjaFFR3AijfLi2hsWH1cXGbPshJab9qrHoa69_bhOJXaf6n1vBicWO2e8YX9xIzPLRGckm2R3mnXRQ49XN3FIWR9w28FXcCHG/s1600/h-Lake+Placid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU_cCkINsO1L6j0-ro2KTaA_EIJriFw2naX_K7dO_qaPwLjaFFR3AijfLi2hsWH1cXGbPshJab9qrHoa69_bhOJXaf6n1vBicWO2e8YX9xIzPLRGckm2R3mnXRQ49XN3FIWR9w28FXcCHG/s400/h-Lake+Placid.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of the Ironman Lake Placid course- serious Adironack climbs. June 2012.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTllBtiUXFJtKNUCc7FUgdy03wQjyjYbj-xDHeAzwxhL4uGBd1W7058grjMEv9-uuBFyRgXqAGxgstbxqrh8URCRqQblUZMpdSjBtp75jhiv5F8H8fw_4NSSikGU9iuHQFvq1SezOsdJL/s1600/IMG_3318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTllBtiUXFJtKNUCc7FUgdy03wQjyjYbj-xDHeAzwxhL4uGBd1W7058grjMEv9-uuBFyRgXqAGxgstbxqrh8URCRqQblUZMpdSjBtp75jhiv5F8H8fw_4NSSikGU9iuHQFvq1SezOsdJL/s400/IMG_3318.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the Lake Placid Ironman Course, Route 9N. June 2012.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijHRdE03dPskRptCH2_e0sbh-w86PTX6xLnnpxd3qj_ZtgWvV3z3psB3VL9gLJXcpwUmC66YcbQzugu9EVv-fj6D2kZrJKY4aieelcDCHkQm4nAFbAK6jEMXgxNh5PA1ODA3uipbwZA6xt/s1600/IMG_3317.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijHRdE03dPskRptCH2_e0sbh-w86PTX6xLnnpxd3qj_ZtgWvV3z3psB3VL9gLJXcpwUmC66YcbQzugu9EVv-fj6D2kZrJKY4aieelcDCHkQm4nAFbAK6jEMXgxNh5PA1ODA3uipbwZA6xt/s400/IMG_3317.JPG" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Took pic by mistake, but it's kind of cool. June 2012.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICoJ80KVT5_mCzQmmdfab1jk8G7WoWHvwY7ni8DTpHXaOHaS8sxraCaAzLC1LEJl7bdHqPBwMzknkduiEKq0m14VVaKGARWrHo5xR-JXf6_IWwA0ZHPZbHidb7_dqQC4IYNUdLeVsK3Oj/s1600/IMG_3322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICoJ80KVT5_mCzQmmdfab1jk8G7WoWHvwY7ni8DTpHXaOHaS8sxraCaAzLC1LEJl7bdHqPBwMzknkduiEKq0m14VVaKGARWrHo5xR-JXf6_IWwA0ZHPZbHidb7_dqQC4IYNUdLeVsK3Oj/s400/IMG_3322.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On Route 86, turned back toward Lake Placid. June 2012.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnHJLwu7O5RFvpV1LSY0pSeQHN4cI32f66oqgcxx7QvWyHOdR3uYNmFVoQ-rP65-Q-GB0lxFnIm0FNSMS8klH-3flfejPhLo9dKl9FsclyrBcrkCN-pUU9zbAxfCk7Or_63nHl23UbKC1/s1600/IMG_3328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnHJLwu7O5RFvpV1LSY0pSeQHN4cI32f66oqgcxx7QvWyHOdR3uYNmFVoQ-rP65-Q-GB0lxFnIm0FNSMS8klH-3flfejPhLo9dKl9FsclyrBcrkCN-pUU9zbAxfCk7Or_63nHl23UbKC1/s400/IMG_3328.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View on the return to Lake Placid, Route 86, on the Lake Placid Ironman course. June 2012.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie9pdLtxnK-nqqMXVx5f9CQVcJoWC0PUqrCwE_1OtJESHClOgSQoC_MHURD4KkiyKZE-jmPbiWaD8f-p5RUEOnoGMa1EG71a0PIo7LQZd1VFuzDC2oyr71ZTT7kXua1P7xPUjbVcOEQU67/s1600/h-Route+20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie9pdLtxnK-nqqMXVx5f9CQVcJoWC0PUqrCwE_1OtJESHClOgSQoC_MHURD4KkiyKZE-jmPbiWaD8f-p5RUEOnoGMa1EG71a0PIo7LQZd1VFuzDC2oyr71ZTT7kXua1P7xPUjbVcOEQU67/s400/h-Route+20.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I assumed we'd see some hills on Route 20, but boy was that an understatement. June 2012.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKP4UvDjRuJzyiqdiQm29Hs7Yki1OMoLC0yKn42rIxJAqcd0pQv7H_QKKskJkUhJleU0GcYvmMSaWVsARKe5icbBt1nMhOWraEDEOGwvwwGK283fWQ3mHFaG2DS6gjtGSK0LL3StR_wcj2/s1600/IMG_3414.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKP4UvDjRuJzyiqdiQm29Hs7Yki1OMoLC0yKn42rIxJAqcd0pQv7H_QKKskJkUhJleU0GcYvmMSaWVsARKe5icbBt1nMhOWraEDEOGwvwwGK283fWQ3mHFaG2DS6gjtGSK0LL3StR_wcj2/s400/IMG_3414.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rout 20 on my way toward Otsego from my parent's house. Yes, that's the road climbing into the sky ahead of me. June 2012.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeMqf81o8e5yUIYUqt2dR5JBVDufeMSfsCrnnpcYlGgL_iKrxbVC7Dac-Tc2uFOoaOtsXt1iz0F8IiQx8O1i49Pc_9PXjJ8SEQsNtcmz2LDp0j_0gDE6DcqudPpvwO9HpjIxvD5vBr233z/s1600/IMG_3417.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeMqf81o8e5yUIYUqt2dR5JBVDufeMSfsCrnnpcYlGgL_iKrxbVC7Dac-Tc2uFOoaOtsXt1iz0F8IiQx8O1i49Pc_9PXjJ8SEQsNtcmz2LDp0j_0gDE6DcqudPpvwO9HpjIxvD5vBr233z/s400/IMG_3417.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Farmland in the Catskills, off Route 20. June 2012.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5GF5EV_A215Y994xnrIFYNn8oPgRdXDnTNERz3ei2hyphenhyphenoDITL3fFhnnlQu82awGc61Xoz-0gEML8Ble00uy2N8L25X520KDDDNwmNX3zJ1kFGKbIeABqCTLy_GgiG8hvF5Y0Z3fNIRP_Xt/s1600/IMG_3421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5GF5EV_A215Y994xnrIFYNn8oPgRdXDnTNERz3ei2hyphenhyphenoDITL3fFhnnlQu82awGc61Xoz-0gEML8Ble00uy2N8L25X520KDDDNwmNX3zJ1kFGKbIeABqCTLy_GgiG8hvF5Y0Z3fNIRP_Xt/s400/IMG_3421.JPG" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stopping at Stewart's on Route 20 for some water, Gatorade, and salt. June 2012.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8OK6BnaWeckf3awef8kVT2QIdDfEHbAM-bmMsGObyNG_rTLW_p2Cy3bX3bFNhtUnLtXvL9LW9hGVmbVtS8Ebdnk9IGppZHc5eHwSMI51GAU4ex0Xvn6p5Mu-rPogGK-_VQvy8yYto65O3/s1600/2012-07-13_135701.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8OK6BnaWeckf3awef8kVT2QIdDfEHbAM-bmMsGObyNG_rTLW_p2Cy3bX3bFNhtUnLtXvL9LW9hGVmbVtS8Ebdnk9IGppZHc5eHwSMI51GAU4ex0Xvn6p5Mu-rPogGK-_VQvy8yYto65O3/s400/2012-07-13_135701.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Syracuse 70.3 bike course profile. June 24, 2012.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdhw2VYlr1FkFV3pObuy4YAIoFOtWrjylKYhyphenhyphenkIfJ8eIwEL2jB2lBDeO-w6r4n-7y5zkyHDZzk5zQNSfydzpseuKD3GkkksHls6G-ZkTCuqHjl7Kvb629kHkakW4HekmHVz-IZxzdw0pK/s1600/IMG_3470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdhw2VYlr1FkFV3pObuy4YAIoFOtWrjylKYhyphenhyphenkIfJ8eIwEL2jB2lBDeO-w6r4n-7y5zkyHDZzk5zQNSfydzpseuKD3GkkksHls6G-ZkTCuqHjl7Kvb629kHkakW4HekmHVz-IZxzdw0pK/s400/IMG_3470.JPG" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Racked at the transition area of the Syracuse 70.3. June 24, 2012.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHAqzWZLbYEH9OETLPmX_NW4D5dvjeYuKgTBsSZ4MQAkRaABrrltlW4gzRlgwxt9N3SjZxRVLVcU1LdAoYR-MVSLSEJnS9gTxMnHYtNYWHgDbwDYAJS0Gv3SGXQJr7E4SmE-O0ejKRqVro/s1600/2012-06-27_175710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHAqzWZLbYEH9OETLPmX_NW4D5dvjeYuKgTBsSZ4MQAkRaABrrltlW4gzRlgwxt9N3SjZxRVLVcU1LdAoYR-MVSLSEJnS9gTxMnHYtNYWHgDbwDYAJS0Gv3SGXQJr7E4SmE-O0ejKRqVro/s400/2012-06-27_175710.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the course during the Syrauce 70.3. June 24, 2012.</td></tr>
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