NYRR Club Championships: 5 summer miles.

No complaints today.  It’s a new thing for me.  But I had a good race yesterday, at the NYRR Club Championships.  Although I’ve never run this race before, I do have a bit of a history with it.

Three years ago, I had just started doing long runs with the Taconics.  I was running with Nancy B and she asked if I had ever run a race.  Being, I thought then, a non-competitive person, races seemed alien to me.  Wasn’t it great to just run?   Enjoy the day?  ”No, I haven’t, Nancy, have you?”

She answered without hesitation ”Racing is the point of running.  Why would you run if you don’t race?”

Wanting to find some common ground (I’ve found that arguments in long runs almost always increase the pace.  I was holding on for dear life at this point) I said “wow, I guess I should try it.  What’s a good race to start with?”

“well, I don’t think you could score for us, but see if you can sign up for the club championships next week,” she suggested.

About a month later, I ran my first 5k.  Two months later a 10k.  Three months later a half.  Sixteen months later a marathon.  Three years later, I finally ran the race she suggested.

The club championships are a part of the NYRR points system.  Which is a little confusing, but it’s a way for local teams to compete against each other throughout the season.  Each race that counts towards the points system gains each team points, and at the end of the year, the winning team gets a box of fifty dollar bills.  Er, I made that last part up.  It’s not clear to me what you actually get, but there’s a nice dinner.  Cocktails.  Maybe a free pair of shoes.  I made that part up too.

I’ve had a pretty good summer of running, and as I’m not targeting a race in the fall, I’ve tried to have a more relaxed.  The night before this race, I wasn’t stressed at all.  At first.  Then my lack of stress lead to stress about my lack of commitment to stress.  If I wasn’t stressed, how could I run well?  Stress.

Woke up the morning of the race, went outside and was thrilled to realize it was actually cool.  Like 68°.  It’s been a brutal summer in the New York area, so I was thrilled.  Drove down with my friend Ted.  I hope someday, after I run with the Taconics for 30 years or so, someone will let me drive.  But until then, I sit in the car and tell jokes.  A service that no one seems to have missed before my arrival.

We got to the park, picked up our numbers, and right away it was clear that this was going to be a small field.  You need to be a member of a running club and — I think — have run in a scored race in the last 12 months, so I imagine there were only 1000 runners or so.   Also, the men and women ran separately, with the men starting at 8am and the ladies at 9.

What this meant was that we could get moving faster sooner — no shuffling through people at the start, and that was great.  First mile was a 6:23 — I was shooting for a 6:35, so that was great.  I’ve found in the past that a good first mile is often a curse for me, I often lean back and relax a little if I’ve hit my first split, and I was loathe to do it again.  Send mile was a 6:23, third was another 6:23.

Then, I had the rarest feeling in a race:  optimism.  It’s possible I could pull this off, hit my target and have a good race.  I still had cat hill to do, but if I could put some speed in the bank, things would be great.  Mile 4 came in at 6:37, not bad with that freakin hill. I pulled it off!  Mile 5 6:16….  my watch gave it’s last report of the day with a 32:56 overall, which is a 6:27 pace.

I’ve got a horrible mind for numbers and I couldn’t remember what my goal time was — I knew, based on McMillian,  I was supposed to run 6:35 pace, but for some reason I thought that would mean a 30:05 overall.  When I knew I was having a good race I thought “man, you could pull this in under 30!” thinking that would only be six seconds faster than my goal.  When I saw 32:56, I was heartbroken as I thought I was way off.  Luckily, I had written down my goal time and the pace on a piece of paper (see, I really can’t remember anything).  I was thrilled when I pulled that paper out of my bag.  ”33:04″ it read.  Good news.  Good day.

Kind of a mixed couple of weeks.  It’s been hot as hot can be in the Greater New York area, and my running has suffered.

Last weekend, I ran in the Race for Central Park, a NYRR 4 miler.  It was hot — not as bad as some other races run this weekend, but the results page has it as 82°.  It was a pretty great course though, starting on the east side, doing the 102nd street traverse and back down the west side.  Certainly, for a Central Park race, it doesn’t get much better.  No Harlem Hill.  Cat hill out of the way early.

I was hoping to do just a little better than I did.  I would have been thrilled with a 26:00, wound up with a 26:32 for an average pace of 6:31.  Bad 3rd mile of 6:46 threw me off, due to hills.   Hills!  Can you imagine!  The nerve!

I’m now in Colorado Springs, and today a 10k which I’m fairly certain is called The Classic 10k.  I’m very much digging finding races while on the road for — it’s great to do something new.  That being said, not all running towns and not all races are equal — there are better running clubs, better running communities, and OF COURSE, there is no better place to live than Northern Westchester which allows one the opportunity to run with the Taconic Road Runners.

This race today seemed to be among the best of the best: very well organized, good day of race registration experience, and a community of friendly runners.  I ran a little with a guy to do a warmup and I told him I had heard it was a fast course.  ”Oh, yeah!  All down hill!”  Well, that was good news.  Not punishing downhill like Boston, but a nice like 200′ or so drop.

Alas, I’ve only been here about 36 hours, and I had some trouble getting as much oxygen as I think I needed.  There was a little uphill in the race, and during any anaerobic activity I felt like my pace wasn’t matching my effort.   I ran the 10k in 42:15, for a pace of 6:47.  Nothing to sneeze at, but I ran a 10k in Central Park in May in 42:08, which is a much harder course.  This was a downhill course with a nice wide open field, and I should have been able to kill it.  But I just couldn’t get enough air in my lungs.  Ug.

It was quite a dramatic race — I was alone for a little while, and took a quick wrong turn — luckily there were some people behind me who knew the course and yelled.

The end was WEIRD… there was a 1/4 mile to go marker (or 400m, can’t remember) and then a long straight away.  With cones at the end of it.  So I pushed hard — aiming for the cones.  Then I realized there was actually a sharp left to the finish, which came after another 40 feet or so.  It totally threw me, I hung the left and just couldn’t keep my pace into the turn.  This guy who I can only assume was right behind me (only because I don’t want to imagine he was FAR behind me) flew past me.  I never really recovered, and I finished neck and neck with a woman who I had passed a bit earlier.

I don’t want to complain — it’s not like my wrong turn or this thing at the end added 30 seconds to my time — it just kind of tempered my joy at such a fun race.  The end definitely gives an advantage to people who’ve run the race before, but that’s par for the course if I can mix a metaphor.

I’m here for another few days, and I look forward to some great recovery runs and maybe a tempo on Tuesday.  I am anxious to improve my speed overall, and taking advantage of this altitude and this great running community seems like too much of an opportunity to pass up.

Ah, July 4th.  The heat.  The kids off from school.  The strained air conditioners.  The sleeping cats.  The sweaty cheese.  The road races.

Ah, yes, the road races.  Today I ran the Putnam County Classic, my first time running this Taconic event.  It’s an eight mile course, and man are there some freakin’ hills there in the middle.  Many a runner warned me:  ”that race sucks!”  ”The weather is always horrible!” “Take your 10k time as a predictor.  More specifically, take your 10k time, and add 30 minutes.”  For such an encouraging community, runners can certainly put the fear into a somewhat novice enthusiast!

Total panic in the media as well.  Total heat wave.  Stay in if possible.  Don’t eat the sweaty cheese.

So I got up, walked to my car, and noticed that I was cold.  It was about 70° out.  Nice!  That’s not to say it wasn’t a rough day — I’m sure by the end of the race it was in the high 80°, but it wasn’t the doom and gloom I had expected.  I ran into my running buddies at the race, and we discussed pace.  6:45 seemed like a good target for everyone.  Except me.  I mean, I think 6:40 would be a great pace in a 10k for me.  On a flat course.  On a downhill course.  In 40° weather.  40° clear weather.

That being said, I lined up and started with my friend Alyssa.  She’s been having a great year, and I was thrilled to run with her.  So many of the Central Park races are so full of, well, strangers, that it’s hard to know the ability of those around.  By being with someone I knew, I was confident that I could base my effort on those around me. I held on to her, and it was a great.  Whatever mental load I was carrying due to fear of the course or the weather was lost in my frantic desire to not get left behind!

All in all, it was a good race.  It was freakin’ HOT.  One of the funniest running conversations I’ve ever heard was between my friend Steve and another runner.  There was a bank on the course with digital sign showing the temperature.  Steve was commenting on the heat to this slower finisher.

Steve:  ”Man, it was hot out there.  When I ran by the clock it said the temperature was 80°.  What did it say when you ran by?”

Other runner: “Damn, Steve, it wasn’t like I was that far behind you.  The sun wasn’t setting.  It said 80° for me as well.”

Awesome.

The middle miles were tough, but I did have something left for the end.  My splits were 6:46, 6:58, 6;45, 6:51, 7:07 (hills!), 7:11 (see also: hills), 6:58, 6:32 for an average pace of 6:55 and a time of 55:30.  Now that I know the course, I can hope to do better last year.  And tell people what a horrible race it is.  And then tell them I’m lying.

I’m in Orlando for a job, which is good — great to work down here, really good people.  I’ve been bummed that I’ve missed some races back home of late, and the Taconics hosted the North County News 5k yesterday.  It looked like it rocked.

I was surfing the interwebs the other day and realized there was a 5k being held down here by the Orlando Runners Club.  I’ve only ever run one other race while traveling, so I was excited that this was going to fit in with work.   A bit of research revealed this was a fast and flat course, so I was, er, excited.  Last year I ran a 19:57 in the St. A’s Run Against Hunger in Croton on Hudson, NY, and it changed the way I felt about running.  It make we feel like concentrating on speed was something to which I could become addicted.

Since Boston I’ve done three or four speed workouts so I was hoping for the best.  In order to PR in this race, I needed to run 6:24 minute miles.  I was alas a bit concerned about the weather.  It’s HOT this time of year in Orlando, and it was 75° at the start with about 85% humidity.  I did a ten minute warm up, and I can back sweaty as could be expected.  I lined up close to the front, and actually got captured by the team’s photographer.  I’m kind of sizing up the kid in front of me and evaluating the ethical implications of running over him should he have lined up too close to the front.  Needless to say, when the gun when off he was off like a bullet, and was way ahead of me!

It wasn’t to be a perfect day for me.  I started well with a 6:13 first mile, but the heat really got to me.  I was working hard and wanted it to be over.  Two 6:32 miles, and in at 20:06.  I feel like I can account for the sluggish middle and end by considering the heat.  Right?  Right?  OK, justification over.

I came in 9th overall, and didn’t see anyone ahead of me of a similar vintage, so I hung out for the awards.  I was thrilled to find I placed first in my age group!  It was my first medal!  So therefore I was freakin’ thrilled.  What an awesome day!

After the race, I ran three miles with two guys from the area — JP who came in second overall, and Estevan who placed first in his age as well.  It was great to talk to other runners who I hadn’t met before.  We all often run with the same folks,and it’s great ro realize that runners the world over can spend a few minutes bullshitting about, well, running.

Now we’re working early every day, so I’m going to have to run in the evening.  It’s freakin’ humid down here.  OK, I’ll stop complaining.

Ever since I started running, my kids always asked me after each race  if I won. “How was the race Daddy?  Did you win?”

“Well, Kids, … No,” I’d say.  ”Daddy isn’t fast enough.  I’m too old.  I came in 2,346th.  But it’s not about that,  kids.  It’s about getting out there and running.  And not crapping yourself.  OK ignore that part.  It’s about doing the best you can do after lining up with other runners.  Giving it your all.”

When I called them yesterday, I didn’t feel like it was the best time to explain about age divisions.   I mean, my battery was low, or there were sun spots, or they were going to a carnival or something, so I just wanted to explain to them what happened as quickly as possible, and later on I’d explain that overall I was ninth.

“How was the race Daddy?  Did you win?”

“Well, Kids…..”

My lack of blogging of late has been based on lethargy, apathy and recovery.    It’s a tough combination.  I took a full week off after Boston, and still haven’t done a long run.  I’m so in love with running right now that I’m terrified of getting injured.  That’s it right?  It’s not just that I’m lazy, right?  Nah, couldn’t be!

Saturday I ran the Healthy Kidney 10k which was a total blast.  Before the marathon I was so freakin’ stressed out, it was nice to be able to show up and run without being obsessed with every detail and expecting dire and inevitable failure at every turn.   I wanted to do well, but I didn’t feel as if my life depended on it.  That being said, I did have some traditional pre-race jitters, which I guess I use internally just to assure that I’m actually alive.

I drove down with Joe, Karen and Tony, fellow Taconics and great runners.  It’s a great way to get to a race, I have to say.  Runners are (almost) always happy to talk about running, and just being with people who are going to run the same race makes the race seem a little more approchable.  We left a little early, and got to the park in plenty of time.  I should say now what anyone who was at this race will remember:  it was a fantastic day for running.  Clear, a little sunny, maybe  a touch too warm, but just an outstanding day.

At the start, I lined up with Tony and met fellow Taconic and super blogger Caitlin Drap.  Since the race I’ve had a few minutes  to peruse her blog, which is fantastic.  Although she seems to be beating herself up after this last race, her positive attitude overall is contagious.  I guess blogging about running doesn’t have to be bitter and cynical.  I guess there’s a lesson to be learned here, but I doubt I’ll ever figure out what it is.  But stop reading this blog and read hers — it’s a great read and I really recommend it.

A pretty good start, but still I felt slow.  I would have love to run a 6:40 pace average, but my first couple of miles were slow, 6:52 then 6:44.  It was crowded, and I’m just not good at pushing through people.  I did feel strong and pushed it as best I could.  Overall I ran 42:08 for an average pace of 6:47.  I keep looking back a McMillian pace calculator I saved after running a sub 20 minute 5k last year.  That 5k was very flat.  And not very crowded.  But I still would love to hit the promised land of equivalent times, like a 41:27 in this case.  Ug.

But I’m still in a great mood.  I’m doing a project for ESPN here in the city and am staying in a hotel for a few days.  I did a 70 minute run without my GPS today, a nice mellow loop around the park.  Nice cool morning, plenty of good runners out there.  As I was running they were picking up the port-a-potties from Saturday’s race.  What a freakin’ gig that must be.  Then again, I’d expect NYRR to pay their bills, which has got to be good.

Spring is for runners.  And if this freakin’ euporhia keeps up I hope someone beats me with an old shoe.

Well, that could have gone a lot worse!

I had a good run yesterday at my first Boston. Although I’m surely glad it’s over, I’m just as sure that I want to do it again. Not soon. Later. Much later.

I very lucky to get out of Berlin on Thursday, and feel great empathy for everyone who got stuck in Europe or elsewhere due to the volcano. Who knew that volcanic activity could cause a problem for runners? It’s like something out of the Flintstones!

But the whole week I’ve been stressed about the Marathon. It is my third, and I realized that my fears can be summarized in three short statements: “I had a ok Marathon in New York. It was a fluke that I ran so well in Bay State. Now Boston will reveal me as a fraud.” Healthy positive thinking!!!! I think for sure that this had as much to do with the energy build up during a taper, combined with the jetlag, but I couldn’t shake it. I did take some encouragement on going back and reading my training journal and remembering some good runs in recent months.

There was a 10k in New York about two weeks ago that I could have ran, and now I really wish that I had; I think having a tune up race close to the big day would have been a profound help. It’s hard as things wind down to the day itself to remember why we run — that confident stride that creates speed felt like a part of the distance past rather than a tool in the toolbox ready to be used again.

My friend Sal drove me up — he’s a good friend and great to hang out with. We got rooms at the Framingham Marriott Residence Inn, which was just perfect. Plenty of runners, but none of the frenetic energy that seemed to dominate the area around the expo.

I bought a jacket at the expo, which struck me as very bad luck. I shoved it in my bag and didn’t even look at it after the race. I grow more insane by the day! Other than that, no major purchases which is great. Like the rest of the world, I’m not swimming in cash these days and it’s great to escape from the pre-race retail experience without saying “well, at least everything was on sale!”

The pre-race was great. I met up with Joe, Karen and Ted from the Taconics;Ted had brought a blanket so we could relax under the tent and pass a couple of hours before the race. Off to the starting corrales, which I have to say are much more mellow than New York. It’s a small village street, and everyone is very relaxed. Not relaxed. Resigned? OK, relaxed.

Off went the gun, a few minutes of shuffling and then we were off. The rolling downhills at the start were a little rough, and after a while I felt like while I was rolling I wasn’t as prepared for the downhill work as I would have liked to have been. I printed out a pace band to do a 3:20 — I got it from Nike and it was graded for the elevation change. But it was a challenge for me — I felt like the downhills were called out as too fast, so I took it easy. But then the uphills I was running way too slow to match what was on the band. After I while I stopped looking at the band, and tried to do 7:37 through the rest of the race. That would have been fine. Except for the hills of Newton.

I have a running friend name Jenn Latham. She doesn’t brag at all about her massive running accomplishments, but she’s done amazing things and I’d recommend a quick google. She gave me a great marathon strategy last year — let’s called it the 3 10s. I’ll summarize it like this: Run the first 10 miles as relaxed as you can. Run the second ten miles trying to hold onto what you accomplished in the first ten. Run the last 10k as freakin’ fast as you can. And then it’s over.

This is a great strategy and differs from a more traditional approach of thinking of the marathon as two half marathons. In this approach, you’d look at your time after 13.1 miles and try to match or better it for the 2nd half. The problem, I’d suggest, is that the first half isn’t anywhere near the halfway point of the mental or physical effort of the marathon; that comes closer to the 20 miler mark. The “wall”, if you will. By concentrating concentrating concentrating conserving energy for the last 10k, it’s hoped, you can really open it up and do well while others are maybe suffering.

The problem, as anyone who has run Boston would find painfully obvious is that the 20 miler is at the bottom of heart break hill. So you power up that hill, and try to open up, but then all the quad pain kicks in from the earlier downhills. And you’re rewarded with an excruciating downhill. Handy! I just didn’t have it in me to make up the time I had lost on the hills. I pushed hard, but it was torture.

I finished the Boston Marathon in 3:22:57, an average pace of 7:45.

I am thrilled and proud. Although I worked hard, it was the support of my friend and family that got me through it. That being said, I am blessed by being a part of a great running community. Everyone in the Taconic Road Runners has had an an influence on me, and any success I’ve had is due to their guidance.

Listen, I wold have loved to have run 2 minutes faster and qualified again. I can and will beat myself up a little bit about that. But I learned so much running this course that I can use when I run it again. But it’s a happy day for me, and I’ll find a way to shave (hopefully more than) a few minutes off next time.

I’m off to a meeting now, about to walk through the East Village — hopefully I will see some other poor bastard barely able to walk, maybe cursing with each step and groaning at the sight of even a slight curb. It won’t require even a smile to share what we’ve been through. I imagine everyone is thinking the same thing.

It’s over for now. But there’s always another one to come.