The week of March 15th, inspired by Terrence’s commitment to his training and his overall improved health and fitness, I signed up for my very first half marathon. Running the Brooklyn Half marathon would be special to me because when I started running it was a race I always thought I would like to try. Several years, and lots of hard-won experience later, I realized I was actually close to fit enough to finally attempt it!

Terrence and I put together a training log for me on google docs and I was off! At first the training was counterintuitive. I was running shorter distances than I was used to and at a slower pace. I tried to use this time to adjust to my new schedule, getting up to exercise 5 mornings out of the week, instead of just three. By the time my harder runs were figured into the schedule, I was so used to my routine days of running that I actually looked forward to them!

Training went very smoothly and I enjoyed it lots. I had some small stress injuries here and there, but nothing that didn’t work it’s way out in a day or two. My longest training run was on the week of May 3rd, when I ran 12.1 miles, exactly 1 mile short of what I would have to do for the half marathon. That day I was nervous for my run, but felt pretty good, I ran a cautious 9:03 pace and felt good afterwards. I also took my first “ice bath” that day! It was both torturous and amazing. Torturous for the obvious reasons, but amazing because it actually helped so much!

Fast forward to race week… Out of superstition I didn’t check what race day weather would be until Friday night, I was worried it might be rainy, but it was just right. A sunny day, but not too sunny. Warm, but not too warm… the perfect weather for my race. Terrence and I decided that 8:20 miles was going to be my goal race pace. Secretly I didn’t think I could shave that much time off of my 12 mile training run pace, I decided I would push myself as hard as I could, but I would be content with anything around 8:40.

I got up around 5 am on Saturday, just a little earlier than I would normally get up for a training day, and made Terrence and myself a light breakfast. After that I suited up in my favorite warm weather running gear pinned on my bib, put my d-tag on my shoe and we were off.

We jogged up to the park and there were so many people. I commented to Terrence how the races that he does have such a small field because they are so specialized. Here were 10,000 other people who were going to run my goal distance that same morning. Pretty amazing! I have to say I was just as proud for each and every other one of them for making it through their training like I had.

After some short speeches and the starting announcement we were going! The first half of the run was two loops around Prospect Park…. Oh, Prospect Park loop, how many times I have run around you. I know that part of the course like the back of my hand, since I do so much training there. This part of the course actually made the task of the race seem much less daunting to be running half of the race on such familiar territory.

Without too much pain, I manage the two loops with Terrence, conquering the long hill on the north side of the park, not once, but twice with relative ease.

This is where the real part of the race started for me – coming out onto Ocean Avenue and starting the last half towards Coney Island. Mentally this was a challenge because it was uncharted territory. It also was the part of the race where I would go beyond my base training levels and really start pushing myself. As we turned out of the park it hit me, a piercing pain in my inside right calf. I decided to tough it out… run through it and see what happened.

One of my favorite parts of the race came at this point, seeing all the people running down an on-ramp onto three blocked off lanes of a six lane high way was so surreal and awesome! We were a bunch of people using the road that is normally ignored and cursed by commuters for an enjoyable activity we’d been looking forward to for months. It really goes to show you how transformative perspective and mood can be.

Running on the highway was great because it gave us more room than we had in the park to spread out. It was bad because it was pretty flat and pretty straight… The lack of variance in the terrain actually made the miles seem longer. Though they were less punishing, there was less stimulation. No small hills and obstacles to overtake, meaning I was solely focused on the biggest obstacle, the finish line, the whole time.

Around mile 8 or 9 I finally told Terrence about my ankle bothering me… I was worried because I felt like he was pulling ahead to urge me on and I didn’t want to overdo it and worsen my predicament. I promised to tell him if it got much worse and we kept on going. It’s funny…almost immediately after I mentioned it to him it started to ease up. I think he was sending me some positive mental vibes to pull through and they were just the cure I needed!

At this point I was eating goo and was getting water at every other water stop. To help with my time, Terrence would run into the water stations and get the water for both of us! There were some people gathered on the side of the race route and I have to say their encouragement was definitely welcome. I know a lot of runners run with ipods and don’t even listen to the crowd these days, but I for one, loved the community spirit of the race, it was definitely motivating.

Around about now we were just coming off of Ocean Avenue and I knew the boardwalk would be in sight soon. Despite my gasping and panting, Terrence told me I was doing really good. Which definitely gave me a huge boost in morale. We were past mile 11 and now I was feeling like I would probably make it, again. Concentrating on sticking to my steady pace I started thinking about how my Mike and my Mom were just around the bend.

Boardwalk here we were! The last bit of the run on the boardwalk had to be less than half of a mile, I wanted to push it and run triumphantly, speedy over the finish line, but I knew I didn’t have that much go left, so steadily I worked my way same pace over the boards and through the crowd. There they were!!! Mom and Mike! I knew it was almost through and I was so proud I’d made it. I figured I had done bad time because of how beat I felt. Terrence and I hugged and grabbed some food… and I even took a trip to the port-a-potties without looking at my watch or trying to figure out what my pace was. Why look and be disappointed, better to just focus on the positive point that I made it through. Finally, upon re-joining up with Terrence, Mom and Mike. Terrence told me the pace that his watch recorded for us–8:07/mile–AWESOME. I am not ashamed to say I was so happy I cried.

I can’t honestly say I enjoyed every moment of my first longer-distance race. Some parts felt downright torturous. However, I can say: it motivated me, I definitely loved training, and the happiness I felt at having worked through an accomplishment, with Terrence there by my side was so moving it can’t be described in words. That said, I guess my next step is to decide what my new goal will be… another half marathon, with a better time? a full marathon? (Terrence is voting for the Philly marathon) As of now, I don’t know what I will set out to achieve next, but I do feel confident I’ll be able to make it to the end with such an awesome coach, supportive friends, and amazing cheering team!

Looking back at this past weekend, and the logistical hell that ensued early on, the race actually turned out to be the easiest part. (And I’d like to think that’s saying something when you talk about the infamous American Zofingen.) Kick and pedal like hell. Everyone and everything disappears when I’m in that special place, and there is never ever anywhere else I’d rather be. What an awesomely challenging race, with a culture and soul unparallel to anything I’ve experienced to date. Equal parts competition, participants, family, friends, and organization, made this a beautiful event.

Unfortunately, I can’t say the whole weekend was as nice as those 6 hours we got to spend at the race. Nope. Hardly. Saturday began for me, after researching all last week on the riding section and pinging my coach, with the decision to go use the road bike opposed to the new beauty. Painful decision, but I knew in my heart of hearts, a race is no place to test week old equipment. Luckily, this worked out well for me, as in my opinion, and as my legs proved, having a tri bike/aggressive aero position for this race was largely, if not fully negated, by the amount of climbing involved (I’ll get to that).

Therefore early Saturday, after setting off for a quick 30 minute prescribed flush of the legs in the park, I set to task to get the old S-Works ready for battle. She was in need of some love, and albeit I’ve been training on her solely to this day, she was getting a mysterious creak that first made itself heard in the hills of Connecticut. I’ve trained and raced on that bike for 5 years, maybe longer, but she’s still a beauty, in excellent mechanical shape. Sure, she’s pretty heavy by today’s standards, but with a geometry that is perfect for power, she’ll always be in the arsenal.

After wheeling her out onto the balcony, I stripped the drivetrain down. First place to look for creaks. Pulled off the cranks, bottom bracket petals, degreased, greased, reassembled and dialed-in the front and rear mech after a little cable stretch. That was a couple hour process, but she was good to go. Next in order was the wheels. Albeit, I wasn’t going to go aero, I was going to get every advantage I could. That meant lacing up the new HED 6/9. And after a quick switch of the Ksyrium SL’s/cassette, Little Red, was looking ready for the charge. Or so I thought…

After another hour or so to ready the gear bag, cleaning up the mug for the big race, we headed out for a walk around the town. We had some errands to run, and I needed a minute to decompress before we were to pick up the Zip Car at 4PM. Well, I think we got a total of 30 minutes of decompression before the call came. I didn’t recognize the number, so naturally, I let it go to voicemail. Then, came the voicemail. Hmmm? Intrigued I listened. Went something like this:

Hi Terrence, this is ———- from Zip Car. We do apologize but we have to cancel your scheduled Zip Car for this evening at 4PM until tomorrow at 3PM. We’re sorry for the inconvenience, and please call us at 1-866-4ZIPCAR if you have any questions.

Panic. Panic. Mind you this was at 3PM that I got this call. 3PM!! I couldn’t even really get that angry, I was too worried about finding a way to get up there. We were on our way home, and upon entering the apartment I immediately called, and explained the situation. How could you cancel now, this late, without helping or offering an alternative? Ridiculous! So I spend the next 35 minutes on the phone with customer service, as they tried desperately to find me another car for those hours. Forget it. NYC, an hour before I have to leave, on a nice weekend; every freaking car in the city was unavailable during those times. And this is NYC, there must be thousands of those damn things.

After 20 minutes, Michelle went to work desperately with the rental companies, but even that was sounding hopeless. Finally, Zip Car found me one. A truck, way up on 83rd street in Manhattan, available from 9PM Saturday to 1PM Sunday. I took it. I had to, what were my options?! Not go? No way!! Although I was thinking that perhaps all this was bad juju. Maybe this is a ominous sign? Reason eventually won out, as I had been obsessing about doing this race; no way was I going to skip. Eventually, after hanging up, I spent another hour looking for a car that was a better option, until the miracle happened. A Nissan Altima in Williamsburg, available from 7PM Saturday to 4PM Sunday. I immediately called to book the car, and cancel the other, and do so with a live person so to avoid any charges. Ha! She tried, until I finally lost my cool and took it out on her. Sorry customer service girl. In the end, no charge, and we were finally go for that evening, with a three hour delayed departure.

All this took hours. Suddenly it was 5PM, and we were both zapped from the adrenaline of seeing the race potentially slip away. Although we wouldn’t get the weekend we planned, at least we’d make the race. That being said, and knowing now I had a car reserved opposed to the SUV I had, I set to work disassembling my bike so that it would fit. I just wanted to lube the chain first, and for those of us that don’t know, that involved flipping the bike, grabbing the crank and hand-pedaling while dropping stuff on the chain. Follow that up with a quick click through of the gears to drop some on the rear cassette, and call it good. Except, you see, it was by no means….good. Remember when I said above ‘Or so I thought…’? Yeah, this is that.

What was going on? Suddenly the rear mech I dialed in earlier was not shifting the full 10 in the rear. And then I saw!! The old cassette’s stack height pulled from my Ksyrium did not match the cassette hub body, and thus was loose! I would’ve been totally hosed, and possibly not even been able to ride had I gone to the race like that. I immediately started looking for another spacer, and after grabbing one from another cassette, I got just the right amount to make a snug fit when I tightened down the lock ring. The wheels now fixed, pulled, bagged, and everything set by the door. Things finally seemed to be O.K., and I really can’t help but think now when reflecting, the car being canceled, was the best thing that could’ve happened…strange.

That ended up killing another frantic half hour. Food was the next order of business, and after a quick bite, we decided on a car to Williamsburg to get the Zip Car. Subways were not an option. Finally, as we slowly approached the garage, we were there. Hmm, not back yet, but that was O.K., we were a few minutes early, so we decide to take a walk around the block. That’s when the call came. I recognized the number this time.

Hello.

Hi, is this Terrence?

Yes it is.

This is ——- from Zip Car, we’re calling to let you know that the current driver with the Zip Car you have reserved is going to be late.

Do you know how late.

Oh, just 20-25 minutes.

Thank you.

And I hung up. I was defeated by this point. What could we do? So we sat on the curb, and waited impatiently, until finally it arrived. Stupid hipsters, no respect. Anyway, we were shortly on our way back to our place to pick up the gear. And shortly thereafter that, we were on our way to New Paltz. After a two hour uneventful drive, we arrived at the hotel, checked in, and both passed out. We made it.

The next morning began for us at 5:30 AM. We knew we had to pick up my bib number the next morning before the race, and wanted to leave some getting lost time. After the standard oatmeal, yogurt, etc, etc, breakfast, suiting up, lacing up, packing up, we were on our way to Mohonk Preserve. We arrived at approximately 7:30 or a little thereafter. Just in time to see the long course guys and gals head off. Coach Midge got the gear bookbag ready to go and with the bike put back together we set-off down the trail towards the direction the first wave just came from. There was no missing the transition area as we came around the corner. It was already stacked to the gills and buzzing. After checking in and getting my number, I wheeled Little Red down, racked her, set out my gear, and waited anxiously for the next hour in a beautiful, yet chilly 45 degrees.

About 30 minutes into our wait, the middle distance wave took off for their 5/30/5/30/5 bout with the hills of upstate New York. Once that happened, I knew it was 30 minutes until the short course wimps would be toeing the line. With one last final check of the transition area I was as ready as I was going to be. Around 8:20 the timing ankle bracelets handed out, and once that was strapped tight, it was time to toe the line. Once the last guy fell in, we were ready to, and after a short intro of the course, and the suffering we were in for, the moment I’d been obsessing about for a week came with all it’s fury. And, with that, we were charging ahead.

From the get-go, as it tends to be with short courses, it was pretty much all out. One of the guy’s I was sizing up, that looked dangerous, was immediately off the front. I was surprised at the pace, and kicked it up a notch to try to pass some of the mass before popping of the dirt fire road into some serious cross country grass action. I managed to get by a few, but in all honesty it didn’t really feel like much. Immediately the course and group took through some rolling green fields at a very aggressive clip. It wasn’t 2-3 minutes in before we were surprised with a bog/mud/marsh section that nearly sucked a foot of mine down. Directly after that, we entered the woods, and with a drainage ditch jump of a couple feet, the trail turned directly to technical, very steep (up), single track.

This is where it got interesting, and oh so difficult. It was pretty much the North Face Endurance Challenge all over again. I mean, this was some serious up, and it just kept going. The pace slowed a bit, but not much by any means as we drove up the first section. I felt pretty quickly winded, but totally under control. For the good part of the first couple miles it was pretty much up. The difference with this course though, and thankfully, is that outside of only one section that I can remember, the downs were not technical, and hence fast. I didn’t have to hold back like I did the week before, and was able to really charge through these sections. But just to give you a picture, there were downed trees, sections of successive planks laid down, roots, rocks, and a hell of a series of technical tight climbs. It was pretty intense, and pretty rad.

By the time we came through the first aid station, we had pretty much sectioned off into small groups of two or three. I could see two in front of me, not far, but knew catching them would burn too much, so I decided to pace from afar. That, and the guy behind me was doing a great job of pushing me, and by mile 3 or so, it was just he and I, and the two I could see ahead. That remained pretty much the same for the duration of the first 4 miles, and it wasn’t long before we could hear the cheers outside of the woods, and came barreling back down onto some grassy fields, for a approximately a couple tenths of a mile before the transition came into sight. I managed to put some space in between me and the guy behind me coming out of the woods. A little gap of 10-15 seconds that carried through into transition.

The two I saw in front of me were also in the process of transitioning when I came in, so I knew I’d have a chance to get them both on the bike leg. My transition was pretty smooth, and in under a minute I was off down the gravel road out of the preserve, and at the end a left onto the road that would start us on the first mile of the bike leg. The first mile, as it turns out, that was entirely up. The two in front of me on the trail, were now very close on the road. The first I came upon, I chatted with for a moment, who having done this 4 times before, informed me that this section wasn’t bad, i.e., this climb was ‘only a mile’. I motored by him pretty effortlessly, obviously not as strong on the bike, making my way towards trying to gobble up the second one. Unfortunately, I didn’t get her on the climb, and within a few moments of the apex, she was zipping away at a speed I didn’t have confidence to try to match. Definitely somewhere close to 50+, as I was in the 40’s. That and on this first bit of down, that same guy I passed, zipped around me as well in a full tucked position. That’s O.K. though, I’d get him on the next hill, and it wasn’t long before the road turned up again, and I did exactly that. This time though, he didn’t pass me again.

I remember now, that I turned around to get a gauge of what was behind, when I saw the guy that was pacing me in the woods. Good news though, is that was the last I saw of him for the day. After a quick right, and some down, we were into some serious climbing again, miles of it, and here is where I got a chance to gobble up a few more, including the gal from the run. This was a pretty serious climb, and I won’t soon forget the guy, whoever he was, diesel as hell, who motored by me at at least twice the speed in full aero position, going up!! That was the last I saw of him too, and I still have no idea who it was. That climb crested on some of the most beautiful scenery I’ve seen in New York to date. At the top, the trees cleared, and you could literally see out over the Catskills as far as the eye could see. I probably looked for a total of 5 seconds, but it really stuck in my mind. It was gorgeous.

That 5 second look, was quickly refocused the some serious declines, and tucking fully in, I managed to start to wheel in a few others. But for the remainder of the ride, I crept up a lone soul, and managed just to keep him about 50 feet out. I did wheel around him once, but he didn’t like that too much, and came back around shortly. I wasn’t too worried, was still feeling pretty strong, and didn’t want to blow anything I could use on the run. Together he and I pulled in another 1 or 2, but that was about it for the day.

And after coming around a bend on another long climb, I was utterly surprised we were back again with the preserve entrance in sight. The whole time on the bike leg, I was scared to look at the odometer, and focused just on the time I was out, knowing generally how long I expected it to take. What I didn’t expect, was to blow that away, and come in well ahead of what I had planned. That was just enough to put some charge in me, and just in time, as the gal I passed back at the start, had just now found my wheel again.

At the crest of the fire road, transition was in sight, and after a quick dismount I was running my bike to the rack. After another pretty smooth transition, I was off, and grabbing a water at the aid station was off running. My legs felt a little jelly at first, but within a matter of minutes I was feeling pretty good. Trouble is, that gal, came flying by me. I told her as she passed me yet again, that she’d probably ‘chicked me’ like 4 times today. After a laugh, she was gone, and there was nothing I could do to match it. Goodbye Mendy. Heading back down the grassy fields towards the woods, I came up on another guy. I started to recognize that the bib numbers were color coded for the different course lengths when I was on the bike leg. Passing many that had started the middle course 30 minutes earlier. Same deal here, and as I came up on him, he gave me a good boost:

You finishing up?

Yep, last lap.

Damn, you guys are fast. You’re lapping us.

That was pretty rad. And from here it was into the woods. This was pretty much a man against psyche run, as everyone I passed hear on out was from the middle course. I was running my own race now. What did surprise me though, was the guy that was off the front, far off the front, at the start of the race I was now passing in the woods. I knew immediately the guy had flatted. He looked pretty fatigued, I’m sure from trying to make up the time. Still incredibly impressive, to have flatted and still be where he was on the course. He and I yo-yoed a bit, until I finally pulled away. I kept a good clip these last few miles, passing quite a few which is always good for the morale. And with what seemed like a blink I was rolling into the finish to the cheering Michelle and race friends and family. Anyone who races know what this can do for you when you think you have nothing left; and it did. I kicked it up and flew across the line to the melodic ‘beep’. I was done. Couple guys, still hanging out at the finish gave me a pat, and a ‘good time’ confirmation. But I really wasn’t sure just how good it was.

It wasn’t long after that, the preliminary results were printed. To my absolute surprise, there my name was, exactly 6 spots down from the top. I was in shock. I had raced the best race of my life, at the most difficult race of my life. And as it would turn out that came with an age group first place. The first ever. I told Michelle that I thought I had gotten first in my age group, but fully wasn’t expecting anything, until I saw a table of ‘trophies’, with way more places than just overall. I’m so glad I asked at this point, because we were just about to leave after fueling for an hour. Turns out, there would be age group awards, and it also turns out, I was first.

What an awesome, emotional day. I won’t tell you about the 5 hours it took us to get home, but it was par for the course with the day we’d had just 24 hours prior. Let’s just leave it with this. I think this is all I want to remember…

Insane. Insanely freaking fun. I really can’t remember the last time I had so much fun at a race. I mean, all races are fun, but I was actually giggling at times throughout the race. It was perfection on many levels both personally and organizationally. Gallivanting through the trees, running up tight singletrack rock inclines, and running down rock quarries at crazy declines, full of endless lose baby-size head rocks, roots galore, switchbacks, hopping downed trees, streams, mud, blood, and to top it off 20+ mph winds at temps in the low 40’s. I really can’t even begin to explain how technical this course was, nor will you ever get the full picture without taking it for a stroll to see absolutely none of this is an exaggeration. Here are a few stats scraped from the race website/literature as well:

Runners can expect technical terrain and rocky footing that cuts to the chase, with some trails heading steeply uphill rather than zig-zagging at a gentler grade. Descents end in wooded hollows before the next rapid climb ending with a breathtaking view. Make no mistake: this will be a tough test of off-road endurance.

Elevation: 4/5 Stars
Technical Terrain: 5/5 Stars
Overall Difficulty: 5/5 Stars
Scenery: 5/5 Stars

Total Elevation Gain: 2324 feet
Total Elevation Change: 4684 feet

Or, for the visual:

Yes it was hard, but what a blast, and I really couldn’t of hoped for anything better for my first true trail race. I can tell you one thing though: I’ll be back for more. With a culture synonymous to the mountain bikers that started me down this crazy path some 15+ years ago, it was nostalgic and a wicked charge, wrapped together in a big ‘Welcome Home’. This year is pretty locked down in terms of goals, but there is no doubt I’ll be back for more trail racing and endurance runs.

The weekend started off just a little crappy, and our planned excursion to Bear Mountain for riding/running first thing Saturday morning was scrapped due to some pretty threatening thunderstorms and showers. So we ended up kicking around here, taking a chance to dial in the new steed, an eventually leaving for the wedding upstate around 11:30AM. Didn’t take long to get up there, and in yet another serendipitous surprise the race start was a mere half mile from where we were staying in Bear Mountain. Not only that, but I got a chance to pick the brain of the 50K 50+ winner as we were walking to our car to go scout the course. Not sooner did I say to Michelle that ‘This guy looks like a runner’, i.e., shoes, etc., did I start picking his brain about the course. To sum it up, as just about every single other source has said: ‘It’s f-ing hard.’

We managed to pack it in last night around 10:30PM, and with little delay I was sound asleep. Strangely I wasn’t really at all nervous. Maybe it was because I didn’t know what to expect. I slept pretty well, and before we knew it, Michelle and I were huddled at the start shaking uncontrollably from the blustery weather. I had my compression shorts on, but refused to take off my tights. Too damn cold. After a few short words from the MAN Dean Karnazes, we were off at 8:05AM.

I pretty much booked it as much as I could to get to the front, as we spun it down some pavement before heading up into the hills. We didn’t have long to sort things out before passing became difficult. The first few miles were definitely a little tricky, but I soon found a good pace, and started gobbling up those in front of me one-by-one until I found the small group that I would largely remain with for the rest of the race. What stinks is that before I encountered this group, I was far ahead of them. Turns out the guy and I that were rotating pace, took a wrong turn and headed a good 2 minutes out of the way. Trouble is, you’re so focused on footing that it’s sometimes damn near impossible to sight the flags in the trees. Anyway, he even apologized (back to that culture thing). I think I responded only with a happy giggle. I was having too much fun.

About that point heading back to the trail though, I easily lost 10 places right away, 5+ which I got back for good, and some for the second time. I wasn’t all that worried. I did want a good showing, but this by no means was an A race for me, or really even a B. It’s all part of the big picture for August. Before going in, I had one goal, well two maybe: Don’t break my ankle and have a blast. Done and done.

My fitness was great, and my result I’m more than pleased with. I ended up rolling my ankle a good amount of times. A have a history to doing such, and once I did it once, my confidence was gone. I even took a nasty digger, and tore open my palm. I know for a fact, as with mountain biking, you can be the fittest guy out there, but if you don’t have the technical skills, forget it. Think Lance, think Travis Brown. Well that was me, i.e., fitness-wise I was toe to toe with every one out there. I looked forward to the climbs because I would blow by people, and there wasn’t one I didn’t at least do a rhythmic slow jog up while others walked. But dang, forget about the down!! People would blow by me, with cat-like footing. I’ll get there. I’ve had a taste, and definitely will be back for more.

After crossing the line, getting cleaned up by the medic, switching some clothes, and cranking the heat, we were on our way. What an awesome day, and an awesome weekend. Looking forward to our day off tomorrow.

Officially, out of 483 that started the day, I pulled in 34th. 32/352 gender, and 13/80 age group place. 9:12 pace/2:00 hours on the day. 9:12 (eek)!! Whole different ballgame out there in the woods. But remember, I got lost, and in reality per the GPS I ran close to 13.5 miles, at a 8:55 pace. So it’s probably somewhere in the middle. Pretty stoked with that, as had I not gotten lost I’m pretty confident I would’ve scored a top 10 age group.

No, not hardly. That was the, not mine, winning time of the day. And if you know me enough to know that I’m just being snarky when I say that wasn’t my time, you’ll also most likely realize the true undercurrent of how impressed I am by that winning finish from Saturday’s race. Saturday very much put things into perspective for me, and the absolute power and speed of some these guys and gals have out there. Not to mention, a (re)newed appreciation even amongst my fellow corral members who spoke casually before the gun went off of sub 6 targets.

I suppose, last week’s 15K changed everything for me, where once a sub 7 seemed an impossibility, and the effort it took to accomplish such, compared to the winning time of the day like my time compared to those crossing the line with an approximate 8:20 pace. This is not ego, no, this is awe. For instance, if 8:20 is teetering on not even my long run pace border, but a recovery run pace, does that mean these guys crank out their easy runs at a leisurely 6:30? That’s amazing. I ask these questions somewhat rhetorically, as I very well knew this before, but perspective somehow always changes everything.

That being said, Saturday brought Michelle and I to Central Park for her first race of the season. (One which she did awesome with, with a personal best 8:11!) It was an amazingly beautiful day, with temps well into the 50’s and full sunshine by the time we were lining up. The turnout this week nearly quadrupled last Sunday’s race, topping out near 8,000 people, which also had something to do with the nice weather I would imagine. All and all the energy was definitely heightened and we were immediately charged as a result.

After a short pit stop at my office to drop our gear, we headed over to the park around 9:20, which left us with just enough time for a super easy 2 mile warm-up on the cushy bridal paths followed by some light stretching. All in all by the time we were called to corral, we were jazzed and ready to go. My corral, being the first, left Michelle and I parting around 10 minutes to the gun (which happened to be just enough time to find here way back to her start position!).

There was definitely a whole different breed of racers out Saturday as we herded in like cattle waiting for the start. Not just in shear volume, but intensity. Don’t get me wrong, in general the comradery amongst runners is great, but the scent of serious competition was in the air (I think blood was there too). I never imagined myself in with the likes of some of those around me, but as I’m quickly discovering as I did with bike racing, one of the quickest ways to get faster is to run (ride) with people who will undoubtedly smoke your ass. Yep, there were more than their share this time around knocking shoulders with me who could, and would, do just that.

The gun went off right on time, and after the usual awkward shuffling as we all started kicking it over, it was go time. Make no doubt about it, the shorter the races get, the faster the field tends to get. Saturday was no exception. I quickly found myself getting carried away with initial pacing around 5:45. I also knew that that kind of effort would blow me up at no more than 5K, so I dialed it down a notch. However one of the best parts of racing with people that will most certainly kick your ass, is that only they have the key to opening that little bit of reserve you can never quite tap into running solo. The trick is finding someone that will only slightly kick your ass, and then hang on, i.e., the golden carrot.

The race took us on a full reverse loop of the park. Central Park racing is still somewhat new to me, so I can’t say I know what to expect, but truthfully I almost prefer it in running races, especially short course. There isn’t much to go into detail from here on out, as after I found my pace, and those that I would stick with, all that remained was the execution through the remaining miles. I did however manage to take some notes along the way, mainly with hill strategy. That and some adequate suffering rounded out the day.

I finished sub 40, and although my Garmin had my unofficial time at 6:19, I ended up with a 6:23 official. I was initially a little disappointed to be honest, hoping for 6:20 or less, but I’ll take it. I have to remember, above all, to be thankful just to be able to be out there enjoying myself. After downing some Gatorade, I managed to stand by and pick Michelle out as she came into the finish. We followed it up with some light stretching, downed some carbs, and ended the morning with a 1-2 mile cool down as we wound our way back to my office.

An awesome day in so many ways: 39:42, 6:23 Pace, 74/685 AG, beautiful weather, and lil’ Midge.

Today, I laced up for my first real test of the season. My first battle of mind and body brought me to the start line of the NYRR Colon Cancer Challenge 15K this morning. I was not quite sure what to expect of myself outside of matching the lofty 6:50 pace which I registered with and so quickly had forgotten. However, how quickly it came back when I picked up my bib having to confirm said time Friday afternoon at 9 East 89th. To tell you the truth, even that pace was an educated guess, as it had been approximately a year since I had lined up for any mid-distance race, and never a 15K. Hell, even ‘educated guess’ would be a reach! Running is not even a focus of mine this season, and I shattered my nearest shorter comparison 8K time by 57 seconds. Quite simply, today was not only the confirmation I needed to assure myself I am on the right track, but also the supreme motivation to kick some serious ass this year. I’ve got the competitive fire, and am documenting it all here for the tough times that surely lie ahead.

The week started with a pretty big scare on my Wednesday long run. This week found me back in Reston, VA on business, which after a couple of months break was something I was actually pretty excited about. Depending on who reads this however, it was for either the wrong or right reasons. We’ll leave the debate from the words that follow, but in all seriousness it was good for both the professional and personal. I’ll stick to the personal here, and that meant a nice two and a half hour long run on Reston’s beautiful Washington & Old Dominion Trail; a converted and paved rail line of yesteryear, away from traffic, and largely people for that matter. Not bad to have that near by for business travel (as well as a nice community pool)!

Anyway, what all this meant was a nice change of pace. We arrived Tuesday night, and after a quick stop to the local running store for a headlamp which I’ve been meaning to get for nearly a year since I’ve been coming here (no traffic, no people, no lights means near perfect solitude), and some decent carbohydrates across the street courtesy of some vegetable fajitas, I was ready to sleep. That happened a little later than I would’ve liked, but I was on the road by 5AM. So what is this huge digression in the middle of a race report? Well, I hurt myself pretty badly; however it was a completely new spot. I didn’t think it was so bad while running, but that soon changed when I finished, and a tendon in the front of my lower leg (not a shin splint, I know those) was extremely sore, even to the touch.

RICE, and making some schedule changes, the pain completely vanished, today being case and point. I chalk it up to tightness, and/or tweaking something while lifting the day before. Very strange, and originally very worrisome. These things happen, cest la vie.

John gave me the go ahead this week to pass on the long rides usually scheduled for Saturday and Sunday, and focus only on the 15K. This is one of the places where a coach is extremely helpful: reading between the lines from various emails, and knowing I was in need of some motivation, shifted gears and (very) short term focus for me. All the workouts sans the rides took place per normal, however when I came into the weekend I took an easy 40 min run, with approximately a mile pace effort, then brought it home. Rested, ate smartly, and turned in early.

This morning I got going at 7AM, coffee, followed by standard bowl of oatmeal, raisens, walnuts, bananas, mixed with some honey and yogurt at 8AM. Michelle, I, and Melissa (down for the weekend for some wedding shopping) headed out the door at 9AM, arriving at Central Park by 10AM on an overcast day with race temperature of a chilly 41F. I had approximately 25 minutes to warm up once we found the start, then changed to my singlet with arm warmers, which I’m glad I did despite feeling cold, and headed to the corrals. My goal pace started to sink in when I realized my corral was the first. Surrounded by the fast guys and gals the adrenaline surged. I was ready to rock!

11:15AM, and we were off. I had planned to start around a 7 minute mile pace for the first 4 miles or until I found and settled in my rhythm. That soon changed. Simply, I was feeling killer, and I quickly found myself pacing a couple individuals in front of me at approximately 6:45 pace, before finding an individual that I ran shotgun to at 6:20-6:30. I was extremely pleased with my breathing and heart rate, which were both very comfortably under control, neither labored at all even into mile 4, which was my mental go ahead to let loose.

Now, unfortunately I’m not going to be able to break this down to the level of detail I see some of the race reports out there, as it was a mainly a ‘heads-down’ exercise. Largely after I found my rhythm I stopped looking at my Garmin so often, focused on breathing, and split times as I counted down the miles.

I am also no expert when it comes to Central Park geography, the Brooklynite I am, so I had little idea of the course when it was announced to be the 5 mile loop, followed by the 4 mile loop. There were a few steady risers, but I wouldn’t call them hills exactly, more like rollers. I’ve been in Central Park a number of time riding, and work only one block west, but running gives a whole new perspective of roads.

So as the miles ticked, so did my legs, and surprisingly well. I was far surpassing my projected split times, comfortably surging at many times throughout the race for various reasons. And that was the status quo up until I came upon a group of four some 50 feet ahead of me around mile 7. I tried a few times to bridge the gap, but was comfortable with my pace, and did not need to blow up. It was a little tough, as the majority of my race was pretty thin, and after I lost my original pace friend when he surged and I couldn’t match, I ran the majority of my miles solo, gobbling up the field, but never getting passed by this point.

I came into contact with the four ahead of me once on one of the last hills in mile 8, passing one of the women, who returned the favor down the other side, and promptly kicked it a little bit, returning to a gap to approximately 50 feet. Coming into the last mile, as that group held their lead, I managed to pass another coming into the last half mile. However, one of the great things about competitive comradery, is that a few moments later he came up on my left, and said simply ‘Come on.’ And with that, we finished that last couple tenths sub at sub 6 pace, crossed the line, patted each others backs, and went our ways.

1:02:02

Isn’t it amusing, that despite an amazing PR, we always think we could have done better, could have gone faster and harder. I’ll take it though, it’s just more motivation.

I finished 14/191 AG, 51/~1250 Gender, 54/2097 Overall, with a 6:39 pace.

And those two women ahead of me? I don’t feel so bad being humbled; they were number 2 and 3 of the day.