Running With The Devil

It is none too often that I can reasonably and factually say that I don’t have something to say, whether it’s inane, meaningless babble purged from the stagnant, dusty recesses of my brain or the lofty, intellectual, Sasquatchian lexicon laden musings of my absurdly nerdy synaptic bundles, but over the last eight weeks I’ve lost me words. I’ve been absolutely flummoxed, staring blankly at the glow of a few lines of text, edited, re-edited, re-written, struck through, and discarded, which gets to be quite taxing on a furry man’s mind. Just the same, I have come to an understanding and whilst the hour may be late for such an epiphany, the timing couldn’t be more perfect.

*Note: Each song coincides with the section below it*



Within a few strides of leaving work for this past Boston Marathon weekend, “Fear is your only God!” blasting in my ear balls, and I could feel all the cylinders fall into place one click at a time. I knew from the moment that I started scheduling this spring racing season last fall that it was going to be ambitious, but I didn’t fear it. I welcomed the challenge with a good plan and a fistful of bravado, but it is one thing to see it on the calendar and another to start living it. As time carried on and everything on that schedule became more real the nerves started to settle in and set-up a nice Hooverville in my stomach, keeping me in persistent knots. The first quarter of 2011 most closely resembled a Sasquatch plate spinner on the Ed Sullivan Show, in perpetual motion, the fur creating a sweet optical illusion of speed, hoping to just be quick enough to keep from breaking any of the plates. Much easier said than done and in the end one plate did fall, the question is which one?



In February, I journeyed far south to a vast foreign land called “Texas”, where I ran the Austin Marathon, which, and it pains me to say this, was a pretty sweet race. In addition to myself, there were a number of Team Sasquatch runners participating in both the half and full marathons and in retrospect this was a race fraught with demons. Each runner was locked up in foot-to-face combat battling the stigma of a bad race, the self-inflicted moniker of “slow”, pushing through an injury, getting their nutrition and its timing down, or finding their love for the sport again. I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced this, but it’s like running with a psychotically possessed version of Peter Pan’s shadow punching, kicking, clawing, and pulling at you, breaking your will, trying to force you to concede. They fought for every stride and every breath and when it was all said and done the day was ours and it was Mojito’clock! I couldn’t be prouder of the effort, tenacity, and mental toughness that was on display over the weekend and to make it even sweeter the majority of the Team members their had never met in person, but the camaraderie was such that you would think they trained with the Tuesday & Thursday Night Torture crew in New York. It was like hanging with the Goonies, just not sure who Sloth would’ve been … probably me though!



Fast forward four weeks and I leave the Right Coast for the self-proclaimed, yet deservedly maligned, “Best” Coast for the LA Marathon. It is while in the City of Angels that I come to realize that even the best-laid plans are not without their flaws. After a lovely and relaxing Friday and Saturday night with my brother and some friends it was time to toe the line once more, but due to a few crossed wires I ended up running the race on my own rather than pacing anyone. I thought to myself in the final moments before the race began, “ok, this will be a solid training run with Boston just up ahead.” Of course that is before all the choirs of Angels decided to cry, weep, piss, spit, raspberry, snot, puke, and crap all over us. Within a mile, not a few, a mile, the rain started coming down lightly and progressively got heavier. That was fine, I can deal with that, but the temperature of the rainwater and the lovely punishing wind gusts that careened through the city streets, like Mr. Freeze in a Maserati and humbled me.

By mile 18 my calf locked up, I was 17 lovely shades of blue and purple, run/walking, then just walking and shivering, and at mile 21 my shoulder angel and devil decided to make an appearance. “It’s only five more miles, you can totally do this, collect your medal, and take a nice eleven and a half hour shower with the water on scorching!” said the prideful devil turning my face and staring me down intently. “What are you going to gain from this run that will help you prep for Boston? A medal? A nice calf injury and hypothermia with a side of upper respiratory infection? What would you tell one of your runners?” queried the exasperated angel backhanding the side of my face. Feeling defeated, but knowing I was making the right decision I flicked the little devil into one of the massive freezing cold puddles and walked off the course. It was the first time I’ve ever DNF’d a race, even though the LA Marathon website has me finishing in 3:45 or something, and the almost shameful feeling that settled in was one that lingered like a storm cloud following Snoopy, zapping him as he tried to escape it.



The week after LA was all about getting that irksome, deafening, prideful little voice to, as my Pappy would say, “stifle thy self.” Tuesday was back to the routine with work, training, and refocusing on the prize, Boston. Each day whipped past and then I found myself sitting at my computer working on training plans on a decent Sunday afternoon passively looking for motivation to even leave my apartment, let alone go for a long, hilly and completely isolated 21-mile run. But, in a flash, there was a nudge and another and one more and as they flashed upon my twitter feed it was time to man up and get my ass in gear. I ate, hydrated, got all my gear together, and marshaled myself to a course that I tell anyone I train, “Do NOT do this alone.” I needed to do it. I needed a real test for my legs that was challenging and done at a pace indicative of my training and aspirations for Boston.

I crossed over the GW Bridge being blown to the side, as per usual, feeling that slight twinge in my calf and just kept going. Once over the bridge it was all about me and my head. I kept thinking to myself, “if your calf goes to hell and you have to walk back this is going to be one long, long day!” But after the first good climb I just focused on the run, enjoying the peace and serenity of the park, the absence of all distractions, and the simplicity of just me and the road. My favorite feature of this course, and why I love it so friggin’ much, is a one mile climb dead in the center of it that can be oh so humbling, but I pushed through it and, like the super running dork that I am, when I cleared the crest I clapped for the effort. Yah, I was a total tool that day, but on that particular day I had to give myself a little credit for sticking with it. I negative split the back half of the course passing the one other runner I saw on the course, but not before sharing my water bottle and endurolytes with him, apparently he was a little unprepared. Having slain the mighty Pallisades Park course I felt ready for the beast that is Boston.



Within the single beat of a hummingbird’s wings it’s time to taper and it just wouldn’t be a normal taper if something weird didn’t happen, right? Whether it’s the lovely aches and pains or those last few training runs that just feel like crap, something always seems to rise to the surface. Well, during the last month of my training I started hitting the pool regularly to give my legs a rest and just keep working my lungs. Two Fridays before the marathon I hit the pool and get 1,000 yards in quick before I erupt at the senior citizen save the manatee float parade that was bobbing its way along the “Fast/Medium” lane. I jump out, head down to the locker room to shower. Just as I get there I stop and take one good deep breath to settle the magma coursing through my veins and when I let that breath out I got into the worst back spasm I have ever experienced in my life, only on my lower left side. The spasm is so violent that I have to pseudo-dash for the bathroom so I can puke my guts out. Why? Who the hell knows, but it was ugly, the discomfort lingering for days, and whatever confidence I had cached was purged to the porcelain Gods that one fine day.



Needless to say I had a hard time shaking all of the detritus from my mind heading into Boston Marathon weekend and what’s worse is that I haven’t been even the slightest bit excited about the race. Yes, I am one of those people that tend not to get excited until the day of, but this was different. I have nerves!! I decided weeks ago to dedicate my race my race to Team Sasquatch member Maddy Hubbard’s 14-year-old son Stone who was recently diagnosed with Type-I Diabetes, something to which I am extremely proud of. The incredible generosity of the Twitterverse is something to marvel at. With the support of more than 50 contributors, my own personal time goals, so many others tracking my time, my back still bothering me, and my boss cranky about me missing work on Monday those aforementioned nerves started feeling like a swarming hoard of sadistic animatronic “It’s a Small World After All” characters holding a concert in my guts.

Before long I’ll be toeing the line and I will know how this story will end, but what I do know regardless is that I will keep fighting and endure.

Taperworm Infection (Restoidea)

We’ve heard of the great running myths and legends: the Runner’s High, the Second Wind, the Wall, but there is one such legend that is talked about more than all of those combined. A nefarious (thank you for bringing that word back into my vocabulary Chris Russell!), mythical creature that feeds on each and every runner at the end of their training season, laying dormant until all of the hard work is done and only their A-race is left to complete. I am of course speaking of that vile parasite, the Taperworm.

It is a truly strange, natural phenomenon runners endure in the last 2-3 weeks (depending on your plan) before their race, but the symptoms of the Taperworm infection are well documented and nearly impossible to avoid. The Taperworm not only affects you physically, but mentally as well, often times with both working in concert to create a diabolical situation that seems insurmountable. Fear not, my friends, there is a very basic treatment to help you survive this infection, which simply takes an open mind, a firm hand, and a little will power … ok, maybe not a firm hand, but you can overcome that pesky little worm whispering to you all the time!

The Taperworm Says:

‘Boom-baba-boom-baba-boom’: With respect to physical symptoms, one of the most difficult to deal with, especially for this Sasquatch, is what I like to call ‘The Olive Garden Syndrome.’ Ah, yes! A deliciously devious affliction where you are constantly carb craving and the thought of the ‘Never-Ending Pasta Bowl’ is tempting like sweet, sweet ambrosia, or at the very least a bowl full of Cadbury Mini-Eggs! Seriously, I am not a big guy, but when taper hits I have an appetite like ‘Lardass’ of Stand By Me fame. So what are you supposed to do food-wise when you go all Pringle-y, where you pop and can’t stop? Honestly, you don’t change much at all. During your training, hopefully, you have maintained a good, balanced, healthy diet rich in clean burning fuels, which should continue just as it has, but rather than going for that extra helping of everything you just have one good-sized plate. Maintain reasonable portion sizes and don’t get caught up in the carbo-loading excitement that you hear so much about and may even feel. But, if you are as spastic as I am, look into modified house wares that are sure to make you a hit at you’re your pre-marathon dinner party and make you the envy of all your friends.

‘No Fat Chicks’: Working hand-in-hand with the carb craving comes the irritation and lament of weight gain. Ladies, and gents (just to be fair), take a deep breath, put down your copy of whatever supermarket rag is currently boasting ‘How to Lose 10 lbs in 10-minutes, like whatever worthless celebrity’, because it is NOT for you. Let me be crystal clear about this, you WILL put on a little weight during your taper. OK, one more time for the cheap seats, this is a FACT, you will gain a little weight! During your taper you are going to want to hydrate properly - not so much that you are in the bathroom every 10-15 minutes - and in the process of doing so you will retain some water weight, but it is NOTHING to get bent out of shape about. It passes … yes, that was meant to be literal and a little gross.

‘This Can’t Be Happening’: There are a couple ‘Oh Sh*t!’ symptoms that manifest physically and eat you alive mentally during taper, which surely need to be addressed. First, lead legs. This particular gem is nothing new to ANY runner, but is one that always seems paradoxical during a taper. You’re just running along, your pace is a little slower, your miles a little shorter and your legs a little heavier?! What the hell?! I mean seriously, shouldn’t I feel stronger?! It is perfectly natural though. During taper your body does a little self-maintenance, some nice tissue repair, taking on more carbs and water than it had previously, and the result of which is your legs feeling a little heavier. Totally sucks, but it doesn’t linger. This situation is further complicated by the fact you may end up having all these little aches and pains, which can be attributed to your body healing itself. These pesky, taunting twinges may start out as nothing, but with aid of the Taperworm your head will blow the sucker out of proportion and turn it into career ending injury the likes of which would only be seen in Saw movies. So, in the words of Public Enemy, “Don’t believe the hype!”  RELAX, get out of your head, and remember everyone goes through it!

‘Bring It On’: As in all things there is a flipside to the aforementioned dumpy, lead legged, achy feeling, which is the, ‘I feel so good right now that I could dominate this race on one leg, hands tied behind my back, mouth sewn shut, eyes spooned out, streaking from the quad to the gymnasium!’ This is a tough one though, so do NOT fall victim to this feeling of pace and power during taper! You want to use this time to heal, fine tune and let your body rest up after months of heavy training so that when it comes time to toe the line you are fresh, fearless and focused. Stick to your plan. Keep the miles low, bring the pace down, work on your form, and just focus on the fact that you ready for this. I know, easier said than done, because that feeling the first day you go out and you do have that little extra spring in your step it’s like the first day you drove by yourself, you want to see what it feels like to break the speed limit! There is a time and a place for that, but it is not now.

‘When Is Enough Enough?’: The last and, perhaps, most difficult symptom to overcome is the paranoia. It is one of the cruel and destabilizing feelings that we have to learn to deal with, not only as runners, but also in our lives beyond the racecourse. That damned worm is in there all the while, making you all edgy as it whispers the questions to the back of your mind: Did I get in enough miles? Should I try and squeeze another longer run in? Did I do too many? Are my legs going to hold up? What if I don’t hit my goal time? What if the weather is terrible? What if I am late to the start? What if I forget my chip? What if I can’t find my shoes? What if I see a Sasquatch on the course? These are all perfectly valid questions, BUT they don’t matter at all at this point. There is nothing you can do in those last weeks that will make you any stronger or faster on race day that would really be noticeable, other than maybe being a little more fatigued. When you hear that little voice you have to tell it to piss off and just let it go. This is the moment when you need to be all sorts of Stuart Smalley. The best thing you can do for yourself is to maintain a positive frame of mind. Remind yourself of all the work that you have done to get to this point, trusting in that process. Remember your reason for going out and doing this, the cause that you’re supporting. Think about the people who have supported you through it all and friends that you have made along the way. But, most importantly, remember that this is YOUR race. There is no one else out there that is going to do it for you and it is YOUR moment to relish.

Here are a few other tips for surviving a Taperworm Infection:

• Spend more time with your family. You’ve inevitably lost countless hours due to training runs, this is the time to show them how much you appreciate their understanding and try and bring them into your excitement.
• Make your list and check it twice. Compile a checklist of everything you will need for your race (Before, During & After): food, clothing starting with the night before through the end of your race. Have a bag, box or area where you are keeping everything race day. Being confident in your preparedness takes some of the edge off.
• When you do run during taper, run with a partner or group. By having someone else alongside you to talk with it is much easier to distract yourself from it all even if you are talking about your race. It is relaxing to have someone to bounce things off of.
• Running a marathon is EASY, don't over complicate it, just ask Barney:

To The Pain

The fall marathon season is now closed, many a runner is nursing their aches, illness and fatigue and “now is the winter of our discontent.” The streets and trails are mottled with breathy hisses and moans of discomfort, but the subtext is wrought with hope and aspirations for the spring season. Sick? Perhaps. Psychotic? More than likely. Music to my ears? Most definitely. But what about those painful sounds that still linger in the arctic breezes that we are all blessed with these days. What about the pain and discomfort? When is it more than just an ache? What is the dividing line between soreness, pain and injury? When is it time to stop? This is THE most difficult question to ask a runner … well, that and why we do this in the first place, but that is beside the point … at what point do we need to just stop?

You may ask why this is such a difficult question to answer, and it is quite simply because there is no clearly defined answer. No set of rules or indicators that can give you a finite answer that either explains what is going on, how far we can push, how much we can take, at what point does this pain become something more than serious? These are all questions that the little voice whispering to us as we turn our feet over and we start to hyper focus on every twinge from toe to IT band. So what can we do? How do you know what to do when those whispers are no longer whispers anymore?



Rule #1: If your gait changes at any point STOP.

One of the great deceivers in the running World is the compensation injury. You trip or step on something that puts you out of alignment. It hurts, but not enough to make you stop, but your stride is a little off, not a lot, but still noticeable and you keep going. Next day you wake up, lace’m up and hit the road only to notice that you are really sore not where you had your little digger, but someplace completely different. That is the EVIL of the compensation injury. You alter yourself just enough to make it through your race or run and then are a mess the next day, because other body parts had to pick up the slack so you didn’t work that spot you originally hurt.

Is there a time and a place to fight through something like that? Sure, but you, as a runner, need to understand the consequences of pushing through it. I know that 90% of the people reading this would fight through something like the aforementioned incident for a Boston Qualifying time. Hell, I’ve even done it! But, when it was over I wasn’t even able to run Boston that year, because I couldn’t shake the compensation injury and had to defer. When you get to these moments, and you will, understand the cost and consequences before you take on that next mile.

Rule #2: Never, and I mean NEVER, mess with the major joints: knees and ankles.

At RAGNAR New York I stepped on a bad piece of pavement during my overnight 13-mile leg of the relay and rolled my ankle really badly. I fought off the roll with only a few miles to go and finished the leg, but that didn’t come without a price, as I was unable to complete the race like I wanted to. At RAGNAR New England I illustrated what my father would call “the flat learning curve,” as I once again rolled that same ankle and tried to fight through it only to have the pain trace up into my right knee and hamstring, which has, more or less, sidelined me up until the last month or so. During that time I have simply let it rest and recuperate while working on strengthening the problem areas. It sucks and I hate it, but I know that if I want to be back and running like I was at my peak I can’t mess with this plan at all. Not even for one run, because that is all it takes to regress back into that mess.

Rule #3: Know your limits.

This rule is a little hazier than the other two, but it is no less valuable. We all have limits and barriers that we can test and stretch and to see our true potential we need to know what they feel like. That is the beauty of lunges, squats, speed intervals, hills, mile repeats, gauntlet track workouts, and all of those other training runs that we have come to love and adore, like that Grandmother that smells like moth balls and kisses you leaving a nasty lipstick mark, but always gives the great Christmas and birthday presents … can’t help but love them! The process may suck but the prize at the end kicks serious butt.

Training exercises and runs, like the ones I described above, are notorious for aches, pains, fried lungs, vomiting, exhaustion, and grievous muscle fatigue, but this is NOT the same as the pains of Rule #1 & #2. These are growing pains, your body simply reminding you that you haven’t reached your full potential yet and that there is more work to be done. Do we see incidents of Rule #1 & #2 in training? Absolutely. Sh*t happens. If either of those situations were to arise during a training run, you bail right away. No training run is worth being sidelined for any stretch of time, and as my coach always told me, “missing one run isn’t going to make or break your training season.”

When it comes to a runner’s body, the corporeal is always playing second fiddle to the mind. As I’ve said before, and I am sure I will say it again, running is 70% in your head and 30% in your body. When you are out there you have to listen to your body, hear what it is telling you and know what it means. I haven’t been the best listener over the last 2 years and I have suffered for it, but no more. If you have questions reach out to the running community, ask me if you like (just leave a comment), but we are all here together and are all pulling for one another to succeed.

Why Oh Why Do We Do This?

It is the question to end ALL questions: Why? People look for answers in all facets of life, but none are looked at with more skepticism, disbelief and rolled-eye inquisitiveness than that of the endurance athlete. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers (and sisters – sorry William, the ladies rock!) are constantly asked why it is we do what we do and, to be completely honest, I typically hear two or three answers: 1) the bucket list approach; 2) the thrill of competition; 3) the Life cereal approach – I like it. I really like it! They are both valid answers, but there is always something more to it than that. Something else that drives us to take a pass at sleeping in on the weekends in favor of a long run and puts us to bed early on “date nights” to race the next day. This past year I had one runner in particular help bring this into focus for me, my reason for running, training and pushing myself every week.

I met Hannah some time ago through a mutual acquaintance with the understanding that she wanted to train for her first marathon and run it in under four hours, but needed some guidance along the way. Of course I said yes and immediately got started designing the framework for her plan. She had done a few halves, but had never gone any farther than 13 miles, so I knew that it would take some time to get things up to speed. Hannah took to the training amazingly well, even amidst a few minor injury setbacks, getting stronger all the time. Then about two-thirds of the way into everything a bomb dropped.

Hannah got a call from her family telling her that her father, a marathoner himself who was going to be running with her, was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gherig’s Disease) and was not only going to be incapable of running the race with her, but would in all likelihood not be going to Vermont at all. Now, most people rocked with news like that are rattled to their very core and Hannah was, but rather than having this news quell her spirit she took it and used it as motivation. Within the span of a few days she stayed on-track with our program, set-up fundraising for ALS research in her father’s name and had exhibited more heart, drive and determination to hit her mark for father than most of the elites do.

When the time came, Hannah hit her mark in Vermont and did so with a surprise visit from her father on the course, showing her how truly amazing the human spirit is. I remember getting the call from her and the pain, pride and utter happiness that was in her voice as she professed her success and how much it meant to her to have her father there for it.

Have I got ya thinkin’ yet?

When I thought back on those 18-weeks and that one perfect day on the course for Hannah it churned up a lot that I had not thought about in some time. Like Hannah and most everyone, I suppose, I do what I do for my parents. My father, the do-everything man, is one of the major reasons I got into coaching and much of what I have in terms of skill working with people is derived from him. A thunderclap of a rumbling voice, a kind, gentle hand, and one of the most insanely brilliant logical minds I have ever come across with a clean, simple love for the purity of sport. He has coached soccer for over 25 years, the majority of those years training teams that did not feature any of his own children, and has never asked for a dime in doing so. He loves the game, his teams and has only ever wanted to help each and every player become a better athlete and inspire them as individuals. As I write this, he is probably preparing food stores for his annual trip to Emmaus House with his players to make Thanksgiving dinner for those less fortunate, something that I have had the honor of being a part of over the years. He is a remarkable man that I strive to emulate each day of my life and can only hope to leave as profound a footprint as he has on the lives of so many of his athletes.


My mother is not an athlete, nor does she feign to be, although there are those of us who think she should go to the Olympics for power walking … the woman is like a serial killer in a horror movie, no matter how fast you go she always seems to catch you. Regardless of her lack of athleticism she is tougher than any endurance athlete you will ever encounter. She has stared down the demon that is breast cancer twice and has smote it both times. Soft spoken, sweet, and powerful in spirit and words, a talent that has inspired me, she has always shown me the way to live my life, embracing every breath with warm, loving arms and keeping your mind focused on what is good in this World and what you can do to help make it better one individual at a time. She is selfless, almost to a fault, and wholly and freely opens her heart to those in need and only ever asks for them to pay it forward and help someone else in their time of need. It is the rhythm of her heart that beats so powerfully within my own every time I lace them up.


Why do I run? I run for them. I run for my father who is the man who is everything I strive to be. I run to inspire my runners, leading by example, as he has done for me from day one. I run for my mother whose strength and enormous heart fuels these words and whose strength in spirit drives me everyday to be more than I am. I run for my brother and sister who think I am totally insane for running any more than five miles at a time and yet constantly remind me how amazing and important it is to have them as part of my support system. I run for my runners, because I know no other way than to lead by example and give them everything that I am everyday no matter what it is they need, whether it is running advice, saying the right words, or just the comfort of knowing that they are NEVER alone. Lastly, I run for you, who are kind enough to read this long post, and the hope that I have inspired you in some way with this to think about why you lace up your trainers each day and the footprint you leave behind.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone.

The 3 Ps of the Marathon Virgin

The Chicago Marathon has come and gone and the fall marathon season is in full swing. Every week more and more runners will lose their marathon virginity and much like that first time, they are nervous, edgy, excited, panicky, freaked and frustrated. With that in mind, everyone take a nice deep breath, hold it for a count of five … exhale … and RELAX!!!!! Remember, this is supposed to be FUN! I know, not quite the ‘F’ word most people associate with running a marathon, but, honestly, it really is Fun!

So, for all you newbies out there that are getting amp’d up for their big day, here are my three-Ps to a primo first 26.2!



Patience:
This applies to couple of areas. First, for the last 2-3 weeks you have been tapering, reducing your weekly mileage and gearing up for the big day, remember to be PATIENT during that time. Trust in your plan. Don’t get all jived because your runs are short, slow and simple. They are designed to be that way. The leading cause of injury and DNFs (Did Not Finish) in marathoners is overtraining. The reduced miles and slower paces are there to help your body recover and be fresh for race day so you can put forth your best effort possible. It also helps reduce the possibility of getting injured. If you are really having a hard time settling into it, reach out to someone who HAS done a marathon, – coach, friend, teammate, Tweep – and let them help you get grounded. It is better to be a little undertrained and fresh than to be overtrained and fatigued.

Secondly, when you do get to the starting line and you are in the swarm of your corral waiting to cross the starting line and hammer this thing out, be PATIENT out the gate. It is an amazing adrenaline rush in that moment when the gun goes off, you're ready to tear the course up and you end up going out a full two-minutes per mile faster to start out ... Oops! I know you have all heard of ‘the Wall’, right? Well, if you get caught up in the thrill of the chase at the start I can promise you that you will have some serious face time with him when you get to that region around 17-19 miles in. The introduction will be quick and then he’ll ask you if he can hang around for a while and I can assure you he will. First time out, hit the wall so hard I was practically in tears, it was unbelievable and yet completely avoidable. Here’s a tip to help those of you that are like me and love to blow the doors off early, stand in the very back of your corral. Let the swarm build in front of you all but ensuring for a slow handful of miles at the start and allowing you to ease into the race properly. It sucks and can be frustrating, but the benefits are felt later on as you realize you still have a lot in the tank and you have passed a quarter of a million people on the course!

Plan/Prepare:
Getting ready for the marathon is like getting ready for a family trip overseas, the more you plan and prepare everything the easier it is on you. For ridiculous travelers like myself, who are always early, have back-ups for everything and are just otherwise nervy and paranoid, a marathon checklist is the way to go! Presumably you’ve been rehearsing for race day morning with every long run that you have had, fine tuning your routine until it is on cruise control. The less you have to think about the better, ease the stress! Here is the breakdown I use for my checklist:

- Pre-Race Clothing (All depending on Temperature): Throw away clothes to wear in the corral, Blanket/Card board to sit on, etc.
- Nutrition & Hydration: Pre, During, and Post Race.
- Race Wear: singlet, shorts, socks, calf & arm sleeves, sunglasses, sunscreen, body glide, arm sleeves, etc. Prepare for all contingencies.
- Post Race clothing: Sweats! You will feel a little chilled at the end from dehydration and from sweating a lot, so be prepared and have a towel and loose fitting clothing to change into.

One other situation you need to prepare and plan for is your goal(s). This is more important psychologically speaking. The marathon is a real test of wills and if you have problems with the first ‘P’ you can have a really hard time hitting a time goal, especially if it is a lofty time goal. For your first time out, make things simple, have three goals in mind: Achievable, Within Reach, and a Lofty. My first marathon I did this and it served me well: Finish without walking, 3:30 or better, Boston Qualify. I ended up walking thanks to a moron that I ran behind, which caused my hamstring to knot, but I still finished in 3:26. Next time around it was: Finish Injury Free, Finish under 3:26, Boston Qualify. The second time I hit 3:07 and hit the lofty goal, learning from the mistakes I made the first time around.

Present:
This doesn’t mean go buy yourself a Garmin! I mean be present for the entire day! Live in the moment. Forget about everything else and savour every nuance of this amazing achievement. This is a feat that you have undertaken the likes of which a relative few can even fathom. 26.2 miles of running in one day!! You trained for this moment for months in whatever conditions Mother Nature felt like throwing at you, pushing your body to its limits with your lungs burning, sweat pouring, blisters swelling and you willingly did it day after day to get to this one moment. Keep all that you have toiled over in perspective as you soak it all in. The long runs. The shin splints. The countless disgusting gelatinous supplements. The friday nights given up for more sleep for long runs on saturday mornings! Coffee not first thing in the morning, but only AFTER you put your miles in. All of that to be revered by crowds of cheering people with music playing, your name screamed, doing what you even thought at one time was unthinkable … it is simply GLORIOUS!!!! It is your moment. One that you will relish and relive every time anyone asks about it. You become immortal!



Newbies, go forth and dominate! Live, breathe and amaze the World! Good Luck!!

A Few Other Tips for Race Day:

- Do NOT try anything new. Keep things the way you have trained. Little alterations can have a big effect in a long race like this.
- Have your name on the front of your shirt … the crowd calling your name will give you that added push when you need it!
- Dress as if 10-15 degrees warmer than it is. Once on the course for a while you will feel like you are on fire OR wear pieces you can peel off (arm sleeves, beanie, gloves, etc.).
- Don’t break rhythm. When you go to a water stop, don’t stop shuffling your feet in rhythm; keep them going because you use a lot of energy just getting them going again.

For more tips hit me up on twitter or leave a comment and I will be sure to address it.

The Last 10k & the Lil' Voice

Over the last couple of months training my gallant, gaggle of galloping gals I have been posed numerous queries about running and training, but none so tricky as this one to explain: How do you train the brain to own the last 10k of the marathon without ever having run that far or run that race distance before?

There are all sorts of answers to this question that I am sure you can find on every coaching website or training book, and to some extent they are all correct. But since this is my little plot of lovely on the interweb, I shall only speak for myself and what I have come to understand and believe.

From this coach’s perspective there are a few ways to train and prep your brain for that ominous final 10k without ever having run the full 26.2 miles before. Honestly, a lot of it seems like common sense, but it still seems to elude people. Anyway, the most effective way, and best answer I have to this question, is to do a shorter distance – say a 21 to 23-miler – and do a focused workout over that distance. This past weekend I took three of my current runners out for a nice 21-mile stroll over the George Washington Bridge and through Pallisades Park with a focus on hill work.



For one in particular, Jo (aka LIrunner9), I broke her run into three parts, which ultimately resulted in a hill focused progression run, which is how we are approaching her ‘A’ race. Her focus through the first half of her run was to temper her pace, taking it easy right up to the 9.5-mile marker, which is set off by a nice 1-mile continuous climb. Tasty!! From that long climb through the back half of the run, Jo did a hill digger – pushing every incline – for the rest of the distance and then a hard push over the last 2-miles to test her finishing kick. Seriously, this is one of my favorite runs I do and it always kicks my ass and I always go back for seconds!

Anyway, for the ‘why.’ We started out at little slower pace to get the legs loose and to get comfortable with some unknown terrain, since she had never been through this section of the Park before. Also, this was a GROUP run and I didn’t want to edit out the social aspect at all, because the running community is amazing and it is fantastic to know that everyone out there is really pulling for one another to succeed. Furthermore, for the NYC marathon, one of the great tools that can be used to achieve your goal is to fall into one of the many pace groups that will pepper the race route and use them to help motivate and keep your rhythm nice and steady, which can often times be hard to do when you go out solo and get swept up in the adrenaline surge of marathon day.

Getting back to the run, the big hill climb was the launching point for digger portion of this run for a few reasons: 1. It is unlike anything that Jo will encounter in her race in terms of length, pitch, and difficulty. 2. It was dead in the middle of a very hilly course, which is lighter on the way out than on the way back, so burning the legs heading into the turn around ensured that the back half would be more work than coming out. Taking into account that approach, you can much closer simulate the full marathon distance without actually having to run it. 3. By pushing the 1-mile climb and forcing the issue you prompt the most difficult aspect of this run and the last 10k of the marathon, the mental side. At this point that lil' voice starts with the questions in the runner’s head: How am I going to finish this? What the hell am I thinking doing this crap? Where the hell is the top of this thing?! How am I going to be able to stick to my plan after I crest this friggin’ hill?!

By making the back half of the run a digger, every hill, every minute incline tests the runner’s conditioning and resolve to fight through the pain, fatigue and self-defeating psychological torture. It is supremely important for the runner to KNOW that this moment is exactly what they have been training for and that there is no stopping them. This is where you tell yourself, “My mind doesn’t work for my body, my body works for my mind. Now move!!!” The mind is an amazing thing and if you can truly wrap it around that very simple idea, and I mean REALLY believe it, you will begin to see just how far and how much you can push your body.

The last two miles of this run is where you take the aforementioned mentality and really put it into action testing your conditioning as you kick to the finish. Those last miles are the culmination of everything that you have done, the hill repeats, the track work, speed drills, strength exercises, and especially your core work. I’ve had Jo, as well as all of my other runners, on a strictly regimented core routine that is done after every workout, to prepare them just for this moment. When you get to this point in this run or the marathon, your legs are tapped, or at least should start to really feel that way, and you start to depend more and more on your core to help pull your knees up and forward, keep your legs turning over, and driving yourself towards the tape. For Jo’s run, the last 2 miles were pretty flat and consistent and after all of those hills it was the first opportunity she had to really open her stride and legs back up and she really pushed through them.



So, what are the last 10k of the marathon like? It is pain. It is sweat. It is tears. You’ve hit the wall, busted through it and are looking for anything and everything within yourself and the crowds along the streets to help push you through to the finish line. It is the ultimate test of your mental toughness. The point where that lil' voice in your head that you have trusted to this point now begins to cast doubt over the tone of your mantras. You wince. You really start to question everything that you are doing in terms of your pace and planning. Your watch and the course clock hang heavy on you as you constantly check your time, doing the math as quickly as your strained brain can handle. And you know what, you WILL get through it.

Running that last 10k is as much about your training as it is about who you are as a person. When you hear that lil’ voice in your head telling you that there is nothing left, that this is too much, do you listen? Or, do you tell yourself the most basic mantra I know, which got me through my first marathon, “You’ve worked too hard for this. There is NO stopping until it is done!” I have the utmost respect for anyone, and I do mean anyone, that has the stones to go out and train and run a marathon, whether it’s a three-hour Boston qualifier or a six-hour run-walker. The mental and physical toughness that this event tests you with from the starting gun to the moment they place that metal around your neck is phenomenal!

So, to answer the question with a question: When you get to that last 10k and that lil’ voice starts to chime in, what will your response be?

When Triple-H Comes a Knockin'!!

After running Sunday’s NYC Half-Marathon in some pretty grueling hot conditions I thought that I should talk a little about training and racing in the triple-H (Hazy, Hot, Humid). You know what I am talking about, the type where you look out the window at 6 a.m. excited to throw down a nice long run – beautiful, sunny, slight breeze in the trees to keep you cool. Then you open your door and it’s like breaking the seal of the airlock in “Aliens,” steam shooting out, that nice muggy, wet slap in the face, and you feel your body wilt, like spinach in boiling water, saying to yourself in an instant, “This is really not going to be that fun.” So how do we combat the forces of nature when they decide to stack the deck against a good day?

Be smart. Hazy, hot and humid conditions are tough on the body. With the heat comes a rise in core temperature, which gets the sweat flowing early and often. It also diminishes the amount of fluid available to your exercising muscles. As a result, those muscles receive less oxygen and nutrients, your body can’t get rid of lactic acid readily and you start to slow down. Let me tell you, when you feel that hit you, you really need to take notice. Here are a few little things that we can do to keep our training going without getting hammered by Triple-H!


First thing to consider is your timing. Get your butt out of bed in the morning early enough that the sun hasn’t put the World on broil just yet. Or, you can be like me, since I hate the morning anyway, and run at dusk while the day is cooling off – for those in the burbs, just be sure to wear reflective clothing for any traffic or poorly lit areas.

Secondly, and this is sort of a no brainer: dress for success! You want to try and be as comfortable as possible. Light, loose fitting, breathable, moisture wicking, technical materials are the only way to go. This is particularly important when it comes to socks, because of your susceptibility to blistering. There is nothing worse than basting in your own fluids on the course, because you’re wearing something that was a little thick (ex. Regular cotton t-shirt or tank top) and super saturated with your sweat. So much fun to be able to ring out your clothes on the street and see how many fluid ounces you managed to excrete!

Another thing to consider in the clothing department, and this is a bit more touch and go due to the self-consciousness factor, but the less you can wear the better. Gentlemen, this is not just for the boys that weigh four pounds and need to show off their 6-pack abs, this applies to you as well. Ladies, this is lot touchier subject, but I wanted to raise it just the same. The simple fact is that the more you let your skin breathe during runs on hot days the better. Sunday I ran in a short-sleeved shirt, because I could not for the life of me find my racing singlet, and I felt like I was stuffed in a pressure cooker. As soon as I wised-up, stopped worrying about the visibility of my race number, and stripped the shirt I felt so much better and was regretting the fact that I didn’t do it sooner. Even just the little breeze you get from moving through air at your pace can cool you off just enough to make things a little more bearable.

Over the last couple of seasons there is one piece of equipment that I have come to see as REQUIRED and that is a good pair of sunglasses. Slaves to fashion, leave your D&Gs and Ray Bans at home! A good pair of lightweight running sunglasses can do wondrous things for you while out on the course. I have had horrible runs simply because the sun punished my poor baby blues giving me the nicest and longest lasting headaches you can imagine! Seriously, it’s no good. It seems like such a small petty thing, but not having to squint or fight off the glare and feel beat down by the sun in that way really does a lot for you physically and for your psyche as you pour on the miles. By the same token, visors and running hats are also great things to have!


This one is a big one to remember and there are a lot of us that struggle with it, but in the heat you have to be willing to SLOW DOWN. I know, the two words that none of us want to hear, but if you don’t do it yourself your body will do it for you and it won’t be nice about it at all! Take a walk/shade break just to let your body adjust a little bit.

Lastly, and this one goes without saying, hydrate the hell out of yourself inside and out! If weather.com, and I know you are all slaves to the weather widget, indicates that you will be doing a hellfire run the next day, prepare well the night before. Make note of your urine color, yes I am being that gross, and make sure that it is just faintly tinted yellow, so you know you are hydrated well. If it is clear you may be a little over hydrated and you could be pissing away nutrients that you need. During your run, make sure you take the time to have a few good solid sips of cold water, if that is even humanly possible in this type of weather, every mile or two. Cold water gives you that little psychological kick you want/need and it also passes through your stomach quickly. Also, douse your head whenever you take the time to have a drink, that way you try and keep that internal temperature down a little bit.

OK, enough of this public service announcement-esque blog post! Hope it helps a little bit. Run Smart & Be Safe!

Why do we fall?

There are so many amazing things to be excited about when it comes to running and we all love to hear about and make the sport so enriching: the beautiful scenery of trail running, getting that “runner’s high,” running a sub-whatever mile for the first time, the camaraderie of the running community, passing people during a race, hitting a PR, qualifying for Boston. But, what about those nasty, gritty, sweat drenched, lip biting, lung burning, gasping, lead-legged, self-doubt laden runs that we all dread? Why SHOULD we love those just as much? Quite simply, and I am now showing my extreme dorkiness, but it is still very true, “Why do we fall, sir? So that we might learn to pick ourselves up.” – Alfred (Michael Caine) “Batman Begins.”

I was reminded this weekend why horrible runs are so important. I was talking with a fellow runner about their week and they were almost sullen about the run they had had that day; it was long, hot, muggy, crampy, lead-legged and was so miserable that it nearly brought them to tears. That, my friends, is a tough day. As we talked about the rest of their week, they had had an amazing training week and all of their runs to this point had been without much adversity, that is until that day. It took a while to meander through all of the detritus, because emotions can be so tightly bound to our training, but the why became quite clear and it made me think. Why do we NEED these runs that make us want to quit the sport we love? Good question, right?! I know! And trust me I have answers!

As in all life experiences, these train wrecks are incredible teaching tools for us all. I don’t know how many times I’ve said it, but training is 70% mental and 30% physical. Utter dog crap runs like this one test your metal. They make you question everything you are doing. You hit a wall. It’s when you hit that wall that you have to be ready to peel yourself off and know that one run does not make or break your training. They also teach you how to fight. How to focus your mind on the task at hand and FORCE your body to respond. Make your body your mind’s bitch! Even if the run is absolutely horrific in your mind the moment you finish take comfort in the fact that you DID finish and fought through it. When you hit the wall during a marathon it all becomes about mind, will and your ability to focus yourself on positive thoughts and energies that will fuel you to the finish: “Oh my God my legs are tired and hurt like hell! BUT there is NO stopping. There is NO walking. I OWN this race and when I get through that finish line there is NO PAIN.”

Taking the mental aspect a step further, when you have a run like this it is the perfect time, once you get over the whole tragedy of it all, to do a serious self-assessment and analysis. Take a good hard, objective look at your run and your performance and figure out where things went awry. Start simple with the run itself, while it's fresh in your mind. Work your way from your body and the physical conditions to the execution of your plan for that particular run. Ask yourself some questions: What exactly was my issue? My legs? Lungs? Cramps? When did they start? Was it the heat? Was I sweating more than usual? Did I go out too fast? Did I have enough nutrition and water on the course? Is the timing of my nutrition off? Did I have enough this morning before I started?

As you pull those answers together start looking at your preparation that day and the night before, if it was a long run. Then look at it in the context of your week. Maybe you did two really hard, focused runs during the week that took more out of your legs than you anticipated and this run was a little too ambitious given the rest of the week? Finding the why is always an amalgamation of details. For example, hazy, hot & humid + dead legs + not hydrating properly + tough pace plan + long distance = WORST RUN OF MY LIFE! As is the case with most personal problems – and yes runners, when we have issues with runs they are always presented as personal problems – we can just be too close to things to see them clearly, so go ahead and bounce it off of someone, a coach, your running partner, even talking to your dog works, because when you start to hear what went on in your own words out loud it can quickly come into focus.

Craptastic training runs and races are an education! They teach us sooooo much about ourselves and what we are capable of. How tough we are mentally, how well we know our bodies, and how far and hard we can push both. Next time you have a run that makes you want to ask for a trial separation from your running shoes, which you really just want to push through a wood chipper, and just give up on the whole running thing remember a few things: 1) If it was easy EVERYONE would do it, but they don’t because they think it’s insane. 2) You are, in fact, insane. 3) One bad run does not make or break your training or racing season. 4) Take all that you can learn from such an experience and use it to make you a stronger and smarter athlete. 5) We are all out there with you, you are not alone and we’ve all been there and will be there again.

WTF is with this OTS nonsense!

It’s been a while since I have posted anything and perhaps that is indicative of one of the symptoms that I have been exhibiting over the few weeks. Now, there is some debate as to whether I have actually fallen victim to OTS, so I suppose I will leave it up to, my audience and peers, to be the final judge and jury regarding me having Overtraining Syndrome.

Over the last several weeks I have experienced diminished performance the likes of which I would not wish upon any runner. My legs have lacked pick-up and pace, I’ve been fatigued, my body unresponsive to any sort of finishing kick, what appeared to be diminished lung capacity, and, for those who know me this may be the worst indicator of them all, I have had nothing in the tank for crunching hills. It’s tragic really, I love hitting hills and pushing hard with a strong quick turnover and cadence, but not right now. Furthermore, I have NEVER just dropped out of a training run unless I was injured, but I almost, so very nearly, did that very thing recently and even toyed with the idea of throwing the towel in on Boston and running for a long while. Once those thoughts shot through my mind all I could think was, “YIKES!”

This is not a pity party, although it may seem like it a bit. This is more of an assessment of the situation and bringing to light the elements and symptoms of overtraining that I didn’t even know existed in a list format. This is an education at my own expense.

So what is overtraining syndrome? Paraphrasing here, it is when an athlete trains beyond the body’s ability to rest and recover. Ostensibly, it’s an imbalance in your training:resting ratio - you train so hard and so often that you don’t provide your body the time it needs to rest, recover and repair itself. The symptoms read like an athlete’s bad dream, but here is a list of them that seem to be agreed upon by a variety of sources:

• Sudden drop in performance
• Loss of motivation
• Persistent fatigue, even with rest
• Difficulty sleeping
• Irritability and an inability to concentrate
• Persistent mild leg soreness, fatigue and/or aches and pains
• Loss of enthusiasm for the sport and/or depression
• Decreased immunity
• A compulsive need to exercise (this one wasn’t across the board but fit)

I’m not a hypochondriac or anything, but when I started to research this possibility I was like a freshman in their first psychology class and thinking they are schizophrenic, all signs pointed towards a diagnosis I did not want to hear. So, I went outside my own head and sent my grocery list of symptoms to my coach and awaited a response. His answer was simple, to the point and in five words or less, “You are overtrained.” There I was, creeping closer and closer to Boston, the race I have been waiting for two years now, and I am now hearing that I am overtrained! My response: “NNNOoooooooo! That’s impossible!!” a la Luke Skywalker’s finding out Darth Vader is his father in ‘The Empire Strikes Back.’

After the initial shock, irritation, aggravation and outright rage dissipated it was then time to reassess the situation and see what I could do to salvage my ‘A’ race. First thing’s first, training was stepped down and more rest was added to the mix. In lieu of tempo runs I inserted swimming into the mix, which is something that I have not done in a lap format ever in my life. In fact, the only way I know how to swim at all really is from watching my Dad, beyond that I am just winging it.



The addition of the swimming has been welcomed and wonderful and I never thought that I would ever really like hitting the pool and doing laps, and yet, here I am doing it three days a week and thinking about adding a fourth. Swimming is amazing in how my running form and rhythm can be so easily translated and transferred into this other medium. When I run I am constantly taking into account the sound and count of my feet in conjunction with my breathing, which in the water translates into my hands entering the water with each stroke and my breathing. It’s amazing.

Now, with my weekly mileage reduced to just core workouts that I approach with purpose and focus, pushing myself and my body to recall why I am doing this and how it is going to feel when race day comes. Just a couple of these a week with a longer run at a reasonably comfortable pace should bring my mind and body back into alignment and I hope that this approach will illustrate what the pool work has meant to my cardio and lungs.

The time has come to test out the theoretical and see if I can bring myself back in reality and run a quality race that I can be happy with!

I Love LSD

Going into this weekend I had a very specific plan in mind, one that required strict adherence. The plan was simple: 25 miles from Friday through Sunday (5 easy miles Friday, push through a 5K race Saturday, 18 easy miles Sunday) . Not too difficult, right? Pretty straight forward. But, there is always that game of degrees that we runners like to play where we are constantly redefining and altering our own perception of "easy" or "light" or "comfortable." It is a glorious game with very few rules, but a lot of penalties that can be accrued during its practice. Personally, I am a vicious offender when playing this game, but I am recovering. What are the steps to recovery, you may ask? Well, there aren't steps per se, but I have found a great way to curb this behavior without causing any irreparable damage, which, in the end, helped me actually stick to my game plan.

Friday night, after another glorious work day I was looking forward to getting out and relieving myself of some unwanted stress, but because of my experience during speed work earlier in the week - uh, I had no speed and couldn't push myself at all - I knew that I really needed to tone down all of my recovery and maintenance runs and bring the speed way down. I have been a little gung ho about my training this Winter and it has taken its toll on my body and the time has come to be much more shrewd about my approach. So, how did I manage that for this particular run? 1) I kept reminding myself that I would be racing a 5K in approximately 15 hours and that any sort of pace tonight would adversely affect my performance. 2) I set my Polar watch, which I have the foot pod for, to beep at me whenever I went faster than an 8:20 pace - Ah, the beauty of technology! 3) Selected a nice slow jam to get stuck in my head and just let my feet synch with the beat - this is something that is not as easy to find and apply as you may think. That's quite a bit, huh? It really is, but for whatever my mind works in mysterious ways and this appeared to work.

Saturday morning was perhaps as frustrating a race as I have run over this past year. For this one I had to trek to Brooklyn, which wasn't too terrible on the train this particular morning as I was thoroughly entertained by my book, "Fool" by Christopher Moore, and was wearing enough layers that I wasn't instantly frost bitten by the arctic gusts of wind that seemed to follow me wherever I went.The exciting part of this race was that I was reunited with my running partner from last year, Speedy Elf, which was excellent, because I haven't run with him in a long, long time. Anyway, the two of us were shooting for a sub-6 pace, but were unsuccessful by a mere 5 seconds! Honestly though, it was a race I hope to erase from memory rather quickly. What I came to understand during this race was that ALL of my fast twitch muscles are on strike, or have committed suicide, and that my legs are now honed in on longer distance runs and my finishing kick is now about as impressive as an Ewok running the 100-year dash ... Pathetic, yes! Cute, fuzzy and amusing, Yes, but Pathethic! It was a completely humbling experience, one that knocked me down a few pegs and reminded me that I need to start to have shorter more specific workouts to aid in the development of that speed and to take it easy on maintenance, recovery and longer runs that don't have a race specific purpose.

So, in continuing with the nice ebb and flow of things we've reached Sunday, where I planned on doing 18-miles (from my UWS apartment on 107th, down the West Side Highway via Riverside Park, over the Brooklyn Bridge to Prospect Park and then two loops of the park). Now, for those unfamiliar with Race With Purpose from last Fall, this run is also known as the "No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn" run. What made this run in particular so effective was that I met up with two fellow RwPers along the way and they helped make this rather lengthy journey simply outstanding. When you run the majority of your training runs solo you forget how wonderful it is to run in a group and it has been one of the things that I have missed most this Winter, but when I do have the company it does make everything so much simpler and more enjoyable. I take my time, my pace is never an issue, I relax more, and when it comes time to turn on the jets I can and with greater confidence. All in all, the workout benefit is so much greater when with a group and I hope to either be racing or with a group for the rest of my long runs this season. Unfortunately, as fate would have it, I was unable to resist the temptation to go beyond my prescribed distance, only by 1.65 miles, thanks to another friend I bumped into in Prospect Park who convinced me to keep going, but I can't be too upset because I did prove to myself that I have the endurance for this while hitting a nice 6:40 pace for the last couple of miles. You can only imagine the big smile on my face after that!

What have we learned? I'm slow over short distances, so muggers and pick pockets should be fine. Recovery and maintenance runs NEED to be just that and the pace needs to take a back seat for nothing more than the health of your body. Lastly, LSD is best done in good company!

Are You Mental? (Part 2)

Last year, at about this time, I injured my left foot in the most bizarre way and was forced to hang up my shoes and defer out of the Boston Marathon. Then last week, I was jumping out of the shower after a decent training run, slipped and kicked the side of the tub. Within a half an hour after that most graceful of stumbles I felt the pain and discomfort that I felt a year ago – same spot, same persistent pain – and started to panic. At that point I wasn’t sure if it was just a stinger or if this was the exact injury that knocked me out of Boston last year. With a race to run on Sunday, a day or so later, I decided to ice and rest on Saturday and really just try and figure it out a bit.

Saturday afternoon and evening were unnerving, because whenever my foot wasn’t wrapped it was ungodly sore and made it really difficult to walk, let alone run. I became increasingly agitated, irritable and unpleasant as I was working myself up to a full-blown panic attack. Eventually I managed to mellow out enough to get some rest and still consider the 20k Boston Build-up in Southport, CT.

Race Day AM, I went through my usual routine, got on the train and wrapped my foot just like I usually do. Everything seemed to be pretty much in order and I started getting a little excited, because it was finally warm enough to wear shorts for a race. The course was challenging and fun and I really went out and tried to test myself, my foot and get a fair assessment of where the hell I was physically. As it turns out, I was doing pretty well. I finished in 1:22:42 (6:39 pace), which was good enough for 29th overall in the 170+ field.

After the race, I went home and finally took off the wrap and that is when I knew that I needed to take some time off to be safe. As soon as the wrap released and my foot was free from its bonds I was sore. I stretched, iced and rested for the remainder of the evening and while I was enjoying English Premier League Review Show that night I made the decision to keep the foot wrapped and shelf running for the majority of the week … something that is much easier said than done. For me, this was a “practice what you preach” moment, listening to my body and being patient with an injury that could potentially set me back quite a bit.

I really struggled reading the emails, tweets and messages from other runners and triathletes about their training, doing the things they love, and then not going out and joining in myself. Throughout the week I had to remind myself that I have a goal to achieve at the end of all of this and that going out before I have nipped this injury would jeopardize my ability to reach my goal. It was incredibly humbling, and at times more painful than the injury itself, to break from the tightly regimented routine that I had developed over the proceeding couple of months. In an effort to pacify my urges I started doing two-a-day core workouts so that, in my mind, I would still be building and working towards my goal even if I wasn’t running.

The days went by painfully slow, but then it was TGIF and it was time to lace’em up and get back out in the park and check on the status of my foot. As soon as the clock struck 6 p.m. I flew out of work and was jogging back to the park, all the while my mind hyper-focused on my left foot, honing in on any discomfort or pain with ridiculous sensitivity, but there was none. It felt just like I had before I had gone ahead and kicked the tub.

About half-way through the run I realized how good I felt, like I was gliding, strong and effortless, for about 5-miles. It was exactly what I needed and all the tension, irritability and unpleasantness that had festered throughout the week just sweated free from my body, it was perfect. I felt better than I have in a while, probably due to overtraining, but we live and learn.

I followed this run up with another on Sunday with Coach Adam, Javier, Javier's dog Simba and Bill Risch up in Rockefeller Park. It was a nice 14-miles or so and, as per usual, Adam threw a couple curves in there by having us do hill repeats at one point, then he decided we needed to do as many hills as we could find along the park’s trails. How sweet of him! It was a great trail run and I was incredibly relieved to complete it pain free!!



You may be asking why I have included this video clip of a not-so-pleasant injury to this entry and my reasoning is this: the Arsenal FC player featured, Eduardo da Silva, was told that he may never play the game again due to the severity of the injury and the amount of rehab that he would require. Well, this past Monday Eduardo returned to the pitch for the first time in nearly a year and not only scored, but inked the score sheet twice. He looked lively, comfortable and so unbelievably happy to be doing what he loved that I felt like I had to share. The amount of patience and mental toughness it must have taken to go through his recovery period and then to set foot on the field again, all the while worrying about getting hurt again, is remarkable.

Know When To Say When

Heading into my Boston training I have been tinkering and toying with my training strategy and in doing so have tested my legs quite a bit. The training plan I set out for myself has me doing between 40 and 50+ miles weekly, something that I have not consciously gone out and tried, but know that I am capable of doing. One thing I haven't been sure of is how my body would react to the high frequency and mileage this early in my training and how that might translate down the road, which brings me back to the question I started out with this season:

Is it better to do higher miles with greater consistency, or, do shorter, more intense and focus specific workouts during the week with high mileage weekends?

For the last month, I went with the former selection, gradually increasing my base mileage runs while maintaining my planned weekend long run schedule. I knew going into it that it would take a little bit for my body to adjust to the increase and get back into a consistent running rhythm, but it may have been a little too early for this.

Last fall, training with the Race With Purpose Fall Marathon group I was building back up from injury and was not doing a lot of heavy mileage, but felt great. My speed kept increasing every couple of weeks, my stamina was good and my body felt no adverse effects to anything that I was doing. Sounds pretty good, right? As the season closed, I was really feeling fatigued over the last 6 weeks and with the little rest I allowed myself preparing all of my runners for their particular race I really needed to take some time off.

With the Holidays came my hiatus from running, which left me bored a bit, but planning ahead for my push towards Boston. Developing this little testing plan I implemented the high-volume regiment that I mentioned earlier and took to it as best I could, but since the very start I have felt fatigued, stiff, sore and otherwise unhappy with it. At first I thought it was just the cold that was making this all so unbearable, but it wasn't. I fought and pushed my way through workouts that have kicked the crap out of me, giving everything I have to execute them to the letter and it took a toll.

Last week I started thinking about the work I did in the Fall and how light, strong, fast and fearless I felt and knew that this little experiment needed to be altered. So, as I hit Thursday night and I finished my 8-mile run with pick-ups I told myself, "That's it! Enough's enough! I'm racing Sunday and doing about 17 total miles, just core for the next two days while my legs recover enough to not want to smote me on Sunday - especially with my new competition with Mangorunner."

The two days off were the best thing I could have done for my body. It is the whole "practice what you preach" thing. All fall I told my teammates to listen to their bodies when it comes to their training and that the better they know their bodies and what they can take the better their training will be. For my part, I don't think I have really pushed my body that hard yet. I feel like there is a well of untapped potential that I have yet to reach, but I am starting to find my way to it.

Sunday was the NYRR Manhattan Half-Marathon and I showed up mentally prepared to rock it, but physically annoyed. As many runners can attest to, if you don't take care of your business in the morning it can make a training run or race an absolute HELL! Apparently my body wanted to remind me of that fun fact and decided that I should suffer through the entire 13.1-mile race around Central Park.

For the entire duration of the race I felt nauseous, the worst of it during miles 4 and 8. For that span I just kept talking to myself, saying, "You can stop at the next portos and just get it over with, but suffer to get back up to speed or you can stick it out, maybe puke while on the course, but fight your way through it." In the end, I just fought through it, knowing full well that if I did stop the cold would consume me and I would feel even worse trying to get my legs to turn over again.

It was a battle of epic proportions, but I feel that I won this one! I finished the race in 1:27:05 (6:38 pace) without any nutrition (knowing that I would puke it up) and only two sips of water on the course (1. because they were all ice cups, and 2. because I felt like I would puke it up). For the last mile of the race I had repeatedly caught up to this one guy and every time I did he would take off, not allowing anyone to pass him ... that is until the last half of a mile. Then I finally drew level with him and called out to him, "OK, now it's time to see your kick!" The two of us started to pour it on and we were level for about 400m (with a number of other runners taking up the finishing kick mantel at the same time), but over the last quarter I overtook him and smiled my way through the finish line.

After finishing I went back up the course to cheer on my teammates and run in a friend of mine who is coming back from injury and looking to dominate her Spring marathon.

Now it is time to put into affect the second portion of this training experiment and work with lower mileage, but with focused and specific high-intensity workouts three days a week and a steady increase in my weekend long run mileage. All of this will be done uttering the "listen to your body" mantra, which I think will bring about the exact results I am looking for.

"Success isn't how far you got, but the distance you traveled from where you started." ~ Prefontaine

The Return of the Fun Run

Coming to the close of last week I had altered my training schedule, scaling it back a little, so I could be prepared for the first throwdown between myself and Mangorunner. This was something that bothered me to some extent, because I hate to amend my training schedule to the shorter end of my mileage, but it made the most sense and my body was having a hard time adjusting to the higher mileage. Regardless of all my apprehensions, it never ended up being an issue, because Mother Nature ensured that neither one of us was going to be able to race ... they both were snow and iced out.

So, in the absence of my Boston Build-Up 15K race I decided to go up to Rockefeller Park to do a trail run with Coach Adam and fellow RwPer Farrah, who will also be running Boston in April. The snow was still falling in the morning, but it wasn't quite as biting cold as it had been the day before. It really was quite beautiful, aside from the disgusting black/grey/brown sludge created by all the cars on the streets. I met Farrah on the train heading up to Philipse Manor gearing up as we rumbled along, texting back and forth with Coach Adam so he knew where we were. As it turns out, once you head outside of the City and get into the burbs plowing must be a somewhat foreign concept, because he ended up being late, due to poor road conditions.

Farrah and I walked towards Rockefeller Park and Coach Adam picked us up on the side of the road looking like a couple of transient, hobo athletes; me in all black and brown and Farrah in an outfit of delightfully vibrant contrasting colors, like Helen Keller mix-n-matched it for her. When we got up to the high school parking lot we pulled up next to Jackie Vanover who humbled us all by coming out at all after doing the Walt Disney Goofy's Race & a Half Challenge the previous weekend. Coach Adam, in a wondrous attempt to trump that feat, stripped down to his running shorts ... in the snow ... and was like, "What? You're all going to wish you were dressed like me once we're out there." Below is an accurate representation of just how excited Coach Adam was:



Once he finished getting himself run-ready, we hit the trails, for what ended up being 12-miles, and it was amazing! After a brutal week where I had mentally been struggling with fatigue, the mercilessly cold temperatures, and the many miles in my training schedule this run was the perfect response. It was almost as if I had forgotten how much FUN it can be to go on a run with a group where you don't care what the pace is, you just go out and enjoy it. I found myself reveling in every moment that we had in the snow caked woods with drifts raining down on us blown free from the limbs high above. I was captivated by all that saw and felt on those trails and remembered why I love running and what an amazing and beautiful place the World is.



Just a little literary food for thought, R.W. Emerson once wrote, "Nothing divine dies. All good is eternally reproductive. The beauty of nature reforms itself in the mind, and not for barren contemplation, but for new creation."

Are You Mental? (part 1)

I am sure that I am not the only one that gets up in the morning over the Winter, opens the window for five seconds and instantly utters one simple, primally fueled phrase: f#ck it's cold! Accompanying that phrase is an autonomic response where your body shudders for a second and unconsciously returns to bed forcibly repeating through every nerve in your body that, "there is NO WAY in hell we are running in this sh&t!" That is the very moment when the mental side of Winter training begins and it is the most difficult one to overcome.

Last weekend I got to experience the full gamut of the mental onslaught that runners go through running in the frigid temperatures of the Northeast. While I was walking the dogs Saturday morning, before the sun had even crept over the horizon line, I just kept thinking, "ya know, a rest day would be a good idea right about now. So what if there isn't one scheduled for a couple of days. What could it hurt?" But, I knew that my biggest handicap thus far in my training has been consistency, thanks to illness, etc. so I really, really couldn't afford to take the day off.

Then I thought, "15-miles is really far and it gets dark early here, maybe I could do like eight and call it a day?" But, I had been silly and watched the news and knew that snow was coming and there was no way that I would be running that far in the Burbs with 8-10 inches of snow due to fall overnight and into the following morning.



With all the facts there and the day starting to get away from me, I set a timetable and wrapped my head around doing my 15-miler at 2:30 pm, which according to weather.com was going to be the warmest time of day, a balmy 23-degrees, but with the windchill more like 12-degrees. At 2 pm I geared up: tights, sleeveless, long sleeve Underarmour cold gear, hat, gloves, water bottle fuel belt and my marathon windbreaker. Once I suited up I stretched in the warmth of the house, took the dogs out one more time before I left and then stepped to the edge of the driveway to hammer it out.

Literally 400 meters down the street, the only thing I could think was, "I am an Idiot!" That first mile was absolute torture, not from a muscle standpoint, but just adjusting to the wind and the temperature of the air on my legs. Back and forth my mind flip flopped about whether I would be able to handle the full 15 or if I would cut it short. In the end, I kept my head, my body heated up and the run was really good.

The cold crisp air kept the roads clear and the scenery along the way was outstanding. At one point I passed a small pond where the local kids were skating with their parents and as I went by they said, "Look at that guy running, he's crazy. I bet he wishes he was skating instead?" Little did those kids know that I can't skate at all and am a complete embarrassment when on the ice. I probably would've have ended up crashing into the whole lot of them causing carnage and mass hysteria!

As I hit mile 11 or so, I all of a sudden had a nice second wind and busted out a 6:40 mile, which completely threw me for a loop. I looked at my watch and began talking to myself out loud, reminding myself that I wanted to be disciplined and not veer from the plan. I toned it down, got back into rhythm and kept it going.

All in all, it was an awesome long run that I would have been remiss if I had allowed my head to cave and keep me home. This is the kind of mental test that teaches you how to "hit the wall" and smash right through it! By forcing yourself to make the efforts that your mind tells you aren't such great ideas and persevering you can achieve something amazing. There is no greater feeling than to go out and complete one of these runs that people think you are nuts for doing and then talk to those same people afterwards and say, "I did my whole training run in some cold, raw conditions, what did you do today?"

I am sure that this is NOT the last time this Winter training season that I will be battling nature and my own head, so stay tuned as the battle for the supremacy of Speedy Sasquatch continues!