Return of Daddy Legs

Return of Daddy Legs

On my dresser sits the picture of runner 15227 nearing the finish line of the Seattle Rock-N-Roll Marathon. His eyes suspiciously cast aside as if he can’t see the photographer a few feet in front of him. Off the left shoulder of 15227 is runner 12127. In each runner's eyes is the glean of 26.2 miles . Yet, 12127 has his thumb cranked up, a small gesture acknowledging a huge accomplishment. 15227's experience of this same accomplishment is merely intellectual. For him, there is no elation, no cashing in on four months of sacrifice, discipline and hard work. There is only exhaustion.

This is what was going through my head when Lisa caught me staring at my Finishers Photo one day.

I thought my first marathon would be transformative, but afterward I felt the same, except tired and sore. So, maybe I just needed to wait. Something in me was bound to change. Some understanding would surely come, some pathway showing me the
direction toward patience and mindfulness. But the months passed with nary a lesson learned. Nothing! You don't want to help me Marathon? You don’t want to whisper the secrets of life in my ear? HUH!?! Well…BUGGER you Marathon!

Now, hold on. There was that moment when I ran past my family coming out of mile 25. Andrew was screaming, “You’re going to do it brother”. My girls were there with home made signs yelling out their love and support, and the high-fives of total strangers was pretty cool. And then there was the look on Lisa's face as she made her to me through the crowd. All the elation and pride I found absent in me, could be seen in her eyes. Clearer than any mirror, the best of myself could be seen in the smile she was giving me. She buried me in a hug, and as my head lay on her shoulder, all the emotion and purpose I was seeking tried to make its way up from my gut in what would have might've been a refreshing release of emotion, but I stopped it in my throat and squashed into an un-embarrassing lack of emotion. So I haven’t blogged since that day in Seattle, because, as Lisa would say, “I wasn’t being mindful”, and she would be right. 'Mindful' is the hip vernacular for 'being in the moment'. I was stuck somewhere between the training leading up to the race, and how I wanted to feel at the finish line. P

Over the months following the Seattle Marathon I kept asking myself why wasn’t it more fun? And I kept coming back to the same answer, because I was too serious. Which is odd since I’m not a very serious person. So to ready myself for my second and final race of the year I decided to take a decidedly different approach to training, a Laissez-faire sort of thing. To put this new training philosophy to the test I chose the Staten Island half-marathon. Mainly because it's numerical alliteration 10/10/10 was too irresistible. But also because I never believed that Staten Island really existed.

I started by not making a calendar with prescribed workouts. I would just increase my mileage from one week to the next, except for when I couldn’t. It was all very Forrest Gump. Actually just a touch Gump, as I did have a schedule. Mondays would be hill work. Most important would be track work on Wednesdays with the Hellgaters. If you have followed my blog, you know I have likened speed work to weekly root canals, and why would anybody want that. Fridays were for long runs, again, nothing prescribed here. Never more than three work outs a week. However, every work out was targeted to running faster over long miles. The short-term goal was to do 8-minute miles in an attempt to break 1:50. This would be 4 minutes faster than my Half Marathon PR of 1:54. Secretly however, I wanted to do a sub 1:45. So, how’d it go? Larry would say it went “Pretty, pretty, pretty good”.

The Pain Report: Seattle Rock-Roll Marathon

In an earlier post I tried to give an objective recounting of the Seattle Rock-N-Roll Marathon. Now its time for some straight up Daddy legs style blogging. Any pretty prose or words of inspiration found hereafter is purely coincidental.

This past January I sat in front my computer, cold rocks in my stomach, staring at the 'click to continue' button pulsing in Apple blue at the bottom of my screen.  Once I hit that button I would be committing myself, and my family, to the biggest physical endeavor of my life.  The seed of the idea took root during the Christmas Holiday in NoDak (North Dakota). I had been talking about maybe running a marathon for charity, but was afraid of picking up the balance of whatever I couldn't raise.  My brother-in-law Andrew was itching to race again and best his finishing time of 3:41 at Grandma's of the past summer.  Then Jen, my sister-in-law, and wife to the eldest Howe boys, Christopher, presented us with the fateful worm on the hook; the Seattle Marathon. The race was sometime in June, which meant fantastic running weather, and we could stay at her and Chris' house. The four of us would run, Jen, the elder Howe boys, Chris and Andrew, and myself.  My fave girls Lisa and Ella would be support crew. To complete the full Howe set, we all pitched in to fly out the youngest member, Anthony, as a graduation gift. Lisa would be with all her brothers, which is rare these days, and we would be rolling into race day with a crew, and thats the best way to roll. So, to rewind, me sitting in front of the computer.  $100 to punish myself.  Cold rocks in my stomach, huge sacrifice for me and my family. Ahh shit! Here we go. Click.  I was going to let 26.2 miles have its way with me.

Before I got deep into training for the Seattle Marathon the farthest I had run was 15 miles. This was the result of getting lost in Brooklyn and trying to find my way back to Astoria, Queens.  It wouldn't be the last time that getting lost somewhere in NYC lead to a long run, but those are stories already told. January and February were to be a base building period but the actual miles logged were inconsequential. So the base building started for reals at the end of February with the kick off of my official training season. I love that I had a training season. I played sports for a brief period a s a young kid but there wasn't a 'training season'. There was football, soccer, and baseball season, with time off in between.  In high school I played tennis for a single season. Again, there was no period of training.  After that one season of tennis in high school I decided to remove the sports from my calendar and focus on the 'off time' found in between.  This respite lasted for almost twenty years. So to make a short story just a little bit longer, I started my first ever Training Season on February 22nd, 2010.

Thanks Hal
For the mileage build up I used as a template one of Hal Higdon's novice marathon training plans. I inserted into this template various workouts I found in Runner's World, which I added in after a six week base building phase.  Look at me dropping the work out lingo. What, What?! My run days were set at four, with weekends off as these are my money making days at the Tea Salon.  Mondays would be the start of each week and the start of every microcycle. Yeah. I just used the term microcycle. My microcycles were always three weeks in duration. The Monday runs were set to always be the lowest mileage of any cycle. Tuesdays gradually increased in mileage, by up to 2X the Monday total late in training, and would always be my medium-long run. Wednesdays were typically one half of the Tuesday run and should have been devoted to speed work. I however, showed no such devotion to speed work and that is my biggest regret of my training. Thursdays were rest days. Fridays were for the long run.  The mileage for the long runs would go up for two Fridays consecutively, then scale back for the third Friday, allowing for rest before a nice jump in miles. It starts with six miles and ends with a 20 mile long run in week 15.  You can take a look at the actual plan as devised by Hal here, (http://www.halhigdon.com/marathon/Mar00novice.htm). This plan is free and even comes with workouts and recommendations for rest days and cross training.

Don't Hate the Orange Circle
As mentioned earlier the one big disappointment in my training was the lack of attention I gave to speed work. The Hellgaters meet at the Astoria Track every Wednesday night for Intervals, which I treated like root-canal surgery, constantly cancelling my appointments, paying the price on race day. I reached my goal of sub-four (sorta) but could have done better with some track work. My mantra going into the next training cycle will be 'Don't Hate the Orange Circle'.

Run Like HELLgate
My favorite runs consistently fell on the Tuesday Switch, and almost always when I combined the Hill workout of Monday nights with the medium-long run of Tuesday morning. The Hill workout consists of running a .33 mile loop sandwiched between the Hell Gate Bridge and the Astoria Pool. By the way, my running club, the Hellgaters took our name from this bridge. The name "Hell Gate" is a corruption of the Dutch phrase Hellegat, which could mean either "hell's gate" or "bright gate/passage", which was originally applied to the entirety of the East River. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hell_Gate) The .33 mile loop is ran 10x, which is about 3.4 miles. The up side of the loop reaches an 11% grade of elevation. It can be a tough workout. On the days I added this into my med-long runs I would do a two mile warm-up right into the Hill loop. After the tenth lap I would head north along Shore Boulevard toward the Con-Ed plant for a short cool down and then into the return leg home. It was during the return leg when I often found my legs to be lighter and quicker, accompanied by a since of floating over the ground. This was my Forrest Gump running from the bullies moment. I was fast, and it didn't feel like it was costing me anything. The few track workouts I've done have actually been at a faster pace, but each stride felt like a deposit of lactic acid. On these precious few runs I simply felt fast, and fast feels sexy.

Beer Goggles
My long runs went pretty well. No run left me so depleted I couldn't resume training after a few days rest. However, the lack of speed work shows up in my log here more than any other workout. I rarely recorded negative splits. I start every run slow, but only because my body demands I do so. Once it allows me to pick up the pace, I do. I would throw in fartleks (Mmm...fartleks) and tempo runs into workouts, but it was informal and lacked focus. Having specific workouts on the schedule helps me to get over mental road blocks.  I can come up with all kinds of reasons not to do a speed workout despite the fact that my best ever mile is 7:00 flat, on the track, doing speed work! I need to find the runner's version of beer goggles to make track work and tempo runs sexy. Mmm...Tempo, Nope! doesn't work. For a while Lisa and I convinced Ella that raisins were bits of chocolate. Perhaps I can find a similar trick for myself.

Snags
I hit only two snags during training. The first was some knee trouble that halted a workout about seven miles into a run. It hit early in the run but I kept going in hopes it was a kink that could be worked out. The kink didn't work itself, but was gone the next day never to show up again. The second snag stole a whole week of training. The first run lost was the long run of peak mileage week. A 20 miler flushed down the toilet, literally. I had caught some kind of bug which sapped my appetite, yet sent me running to the potty chair often. Each trip left me with chapped lips and noticeably dehydrated. At the start of my Taper week I got in one workout, some Hills with the Hellgaters. The workout went great, my legs felt great and I posted a pretty good time.  Afterward I ran into a friend I hadn't seen in a while. We had a nice conversation as we caught up and set up a date to get together for some drinks.  The run home...not so good. It ended with "Chapped Lips" again. This time sans potty chair. Yep! I took three days off and then jumped into the 20 miler that same week. The 20 was too crucial to my training to leave on paper. I felt I needed it both mentally and physically. Also, it had to be run with enough time to recuperate before the marathon.  So I did it. It went...OK. I plodded along at a 9:43 pace. Still I turned in a PR of 3:15 since I had never gone 20 miles before.

Taper Week
Not a fan of Taper week. It left me feeling rusty rather than rested. My first split for the marathon was 9:34. Thats the type of pace I put up after the winter break. After the base building phase I had never posted anything above 9 minutes until this first split of the marathon. OH BOY! Two days off had ruined me. Or, I was entering undiscovered country as the poet said. The start of the marathon was the end of four months anticipation, the nervousness of which slowed my  first mile. It was a feeling similar to what I experience just before going onstage. An hour or so before the lights go up, cold deep breathes stir the butterflies in my stomach into a broiling frenzy just under my skin. I don't think its noticeable from the outside. On the inside however,  I'm filled with no small amount of anxiety as I wonder if I'm about to suck, or be brilliant. Also, I get very gassy. I confided to Lisa a few days before the race that maybe it was a mistake to sign up for 26.2. We both knew Iwas going to run. But still. Was I going to suck? Or be brilliant?

Special Sauce
The day before the race brought a trip to the air port to pick up the final Howe boy, Anthony. We made stops on the way back to collect ingredients for my homemade spaghetti sauce. Which I will now share with you. The following batch served six adults, and two toddlers. One of which has a fantastically voracious appetite.

Daddy Legs Special Sauce
Ingredients  
10-12 on-the-vine tomatoes
1 Red pepper
1 Poblano pepper
1 pkg. sweet peppers
1 lg. yellow onion
as much garlic as you can handle.
Rosemary, Oregano, salt, pepper. to taste.
1 pkg. whole grain pasta.

(You can pick any veggies you want. I always use sweet peppers then add other veggies by season and color. the wackier the better. I didn't had hot peppers because of the race. Otherwise I always put in a Jalapeno)

Optional (but Highly recommended)
1/2 lb. ground pork
1/2 lb. ground lamb (or beef, turkey, whatever you like)
The meat can be combined with some spices and breadcrumbs and rolled into balls, or just browned and thrown into sauce. I actually prefer making a meat sauce, but meatballs make for a better presentation.

The Sauce
First preheat oven to 350 F, then wash an deseed veggies. Cut into small slices and place on a large baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil and any desired spices. I always go with salt, pepper, and rosemary. Bake for about an hour, I like the veggies to start blackening around the edges. Set aside to cool.

Prepare an ice bath and set aside. Bring a large pot of water to a boil and begin adding tomatoes. Leave for a minute or so, or until skin starts to break, then place in ice bath to cool. Once cooled you need to squeeze the juice and seeds from each tomato. Warning! This can be very messy. I like to squeeze the tomatoes over a strainer and bowl so I can keep the juice as a thinner. The pulp of the tomato should then be liquified in a blender, or food processor. Also liquify 3/4 of the roasted veggies.

In a large pot sauté garlic and onions in olive oil until translucent then add a stick of butter. For a little kick add some red pepper flakes to the sauté.  Once the the butter melts throw in the liquified tomatoes and veggies along with the whole veggies and let simmer for several hours. Throughout the simmer you can add in the tomato juice until the sauce reaches desired consistency. The sauce can simmer for two-four hours. It can be left in a crock pot for up to eight hours on Low. I've done this a few times and don't like it as well as when simmered on the stove. That's it. This is a labor intensive meal, but man is it good. If you try this with some variation I would love to hear about it. Its the type of recipe that could go a thousand different ways.

After the meal we all chillaxed and had a mini fashion show of what we would wear the next day. We were all basically waiting around for the appropriate time to go to be and NOT sleep. I'm a fitful sleeper anyway. On a good night I only get up three or four times to pee. So going five or six times wasn't so bad. All in all it wasn't a bad nights sleep, but I was glad when 4:30 AM finally got off its ass and arrived. Almost four months and eighty days of workouts were about to tested against a full marathon.




Next up: The Race.

Race Report: Seattle Rock-N-Roll Marathon and Half Marathon

So my first ever full marathon now lives in hind sight . On Saturday morning of June 26, I and three siblings-in-law took to the streets of Seattle to race in the Rock-N-Roll franchise race series. This franchise has recently been on a buying frenzy, including Seattle and the New Orleans Marathon. I don't know how I feel about local races being swallowed up by a nation wide racing conglomerate, but these guys sure know how to facilitate a good race. In addition to this being my first marathon it was my first big event race, with an Expo and everything. So I'll start with the Expo and then get into 'everything'.

The Expo

Held in the Quest Convention Center in downtown Seattle, it was large, fast and efficient.  Greeters were stationed at the door to direct racers toward registration and non-racers unto the Expo floor.  It took all of 30 seconds for me to get my registration packet. I went on the Thursday before the race so it may have been mayhem for those attending on Friday.  Based on my Thursday experience I have to give the registration a bug thumbs up.  Getting a big, double jointed, thumbs down is the event Tech tee and the schwag bag. The shirt is a horrible lime green and has no sense of style or class. The ugly green monster will be stored away until I collect enough shirts to have a quilt made. Going into the schwag area racers were teased by two smartly dressed mannequins wearing really nice Seattle marathon singlets. These were of course for sale on the Expo floor at full retail value. The schwag bags were little more than a bag full of advertisements. Again, this was my first Expo so I don't know if this is out of the norm or not. What was brilliant is that attached to the bib was a racer identification tag. Inside the schwag bag was a rip cord with which you could attach the racer ID to your bag. On race morning you could stuff whatever you wanted in the bag and hand it off to a UPS worker. The boys in brown then secured the bag with another rip cord so it could sit safe until retrieved at the finish line. This allowed racers to layer clothing for the brisk morning and layer up again after the run, which in Seattle was a must do. Big ups to the event crew and UPS for providing such a fantastic service. The Expo floor was what one would expect to find on any Expo floor, lots of stuff to buy and a few cool give-aways. I don't know what it is about free stuff but I become such a little junkie when its handed out. I collected about 15 packs of Zicam Allergy relief swabs and an equal number of Zicam Cold Sore relief swabs. I don't have allergies to anything other than a couple of antibiotics, nor does Ella. Lisa does have allergies but doesn't use meds to fight them as many are triggers for migraines, which my lovely love sometimes suffers from.  Still, I greedily took what was offered because it was FREE! So if you need some Zicam I'm your man. First one's free. As are all the rest should you want them. One thing that was nice but a little unsettling was the video tour of the Full and Half Marathon course. The vid was sped up and that’s what made it a bit unsettling. I watched the whole video and felt the twenty minute presentation was long. I would need to add another three and half hours. YIKES! All in all I really enjoyed the Expo. I loved being saturated in all things running. It’s wildly convenient when capitalism takes a shine to your own interests.

Everything Else

The course was tough. How’s that for short and sweet? There were several hills, especially on the full marathon course. Some were ascents up the onramps of highways, but most were a part of the natural landscape. Seattle is hilly, the hilliest city I’ve ever been in. In fact the road leading up to my brother-in-law’s house is literally like a roller-coaster drop…with a stop sign at the bottom. The porta-potties and water stations were spread out perfectly and the bands every mile were a nice touch. Medical aid was available at every hydration stand in addition to medics patrolling the course on bikes. You could get into trouble on any part of the course and have full medical attention within minutes, very impressive!

The course was made hard by the many hills, mostly found on the full marathon portion. This coupled well with fantastic Seattle weather. Cool breezes off the waterfront runs, of which there were several, and low temps, helped to whisk away sweat. If you’re an out-of-towner racing in Seattle, do your HILL WORK! In all honesty I don’t know if the course was hard or just the miles. My brother-in-law, who BQ’ed, yeah Andrew!, thought the course tough as well. 

There were a lot of people out supporting the runners. Part of the Rock-N-Roll package is recruiting local high school cheer squads to line the course. The squad with the ‘most spirit’ gets some kind of reward. I don’t have a clue what kind of reward but it was great having them out there. One of the coolest cheering squads was what appeared to be a motor cycle gang of Vets, all of whom were holding American flags, offering up cheers and high-fives. Fan support thinned only along the highway over passes and bridges, but no spot was bereft of at least a few people offering encouragement.

The finish line was all dolled up and offered all the spectacle to be expected of a big event. The exit chute funneled runners past volunteers draped with finisher medals like
ornaments on a Christmas tree, unto medical, and into a large runners only area with plenty of hydration and nourishment. Wrapped around the finishers area was the Family Reunion center, bag pick-up, concert area and Beer Garden. No one in my family had any interest in the bands playing so we didn’t check that area out at all. Unfortunately I wasn’t strong enough to cash in my free MGD 64 card, or even have a seat in the Beer Garden. As we headed toward the water taxi I was walking away from four months of hard training. Would I do it again? Could I? My immediate response was HELL NO! But now, after a week to recoup? Hmmm…

Daddy Legs

Up next...The Pain Report. Reflections on punishing myself for 26 miles.

Avoiding the Tantrums

The race is days away and I have to talk myself out of upping my miles everyday. Today is a loosing battle. Instead of a four miler I'm going to do an easy two then finish up with 3.5 of Hills with the Hellgaters. I'll take the rest of the days easier. I promise.

Update: I actually didn't do the Hill workout so I only went over my prescribed run by a half mile. Hardly a tantrum at all. More whiny than anything. 

On Unicorn Tears and Fairy Poop

Mapped out a nice out and back course for my first ever 20 miler. The workout was run under less than ideal circumstances. As previously posted this run was to be the culmination of my peak mileage week of 5, 10, 5, 20 miles. Instead, due to a tummy illness that lasted into last week I ran my 20 after logging only one 5 mile Hill work-out.  The first half of the run went well, though I broke into a sweat much earlier than usual, I think due to the low mileage of the week. For my run I headed west on 17th all the way to the waterfront, then turned south so I could have a nice uninterrupted run along the bike path that hugs the island. These bike paths wrap around almost all of NYC. On the east side, coming from the south you can take the path up to 37th. It picks up again just past the Queensboro Bridge and runs to at least 125th Street, where you can take the Pedestrian Bridge over to Randall's Island. It goes further north but I'm not yet sure how far. I have taken the Hudson Greenway (the path's name on the west side) up to 136th, and I know that it goes beyond the George Washington Bridge. Not only is this an scenic, uninterrupted path, there are bathrooms and water fountains along the way. However, the fountains are turned off after the first freeze and not turned on again until the Parks Department is sure there will not  be another freeze. The restrooms all closed around 6 PM, but there are a couple of really nasty, Trainspotting-like Porta-Potties on the west side run that are always open. Or at least always broken into. Odd that the Porta-Potties flank the West Side Heli-Port, because the smell under the overpass that runs in front of the landing pad indicates it is clearly the preferred rest room of a great many people. It is also a nice place to take a nap after a long day of begging since the overpass offers shade all day.

I ran into some nostalgia as I headed up the east side. At Clinton street my 16 miler with Ken was remembered. That day we retraced the route that I took on my first ever long run, 'The Three Bridges Run'. Ken broke off at 34th street to meet-up with his then fiancee to buy some gifts for his grooms men. Ken and Deanna are now newlyweds and its always great to have another married couple in the circle. The run for me wasn't the eye opening revisit to the past that I had hoped it would be. I was going back to the run that started me down the endurance trail, toward the marathon I'm running NEXT weekend! YIKES! But no great thoughts came to me, nothing I even wanted to blog about. I was fitter than the previous run. My legs were stronger than that Cinco de Mayo run a year earlier. The conversation provided by Ken was great as always. Being a good conversationalist is a quality I look for in friends as I am a poor conversationalist and need the other to shoulder that responsibility. All of my good friends are talkers. The types of guys for whom 'good-bye' isn't an end, but the launch into a new talking point. I finished that run solo at the exact same spot I had a year earlier. I was leaps better than the year before, but I was short on the bounds part of the saying.

The very next street past Clinton is where I finally found my way back to where I was meant to be on another long run. I was supposed to run east to the bike path and up to Queensboro for what should have been a three mile portion of a 14 miler. But I got lost! Hours of mapping and I got lost, AGAIN! I ran under the Williamsburg Bridge going the wrong way and snaked my way through the city until I found water. You may have immediately caught on to what didn't occur to me much later. Bridges usually span water, so if you follow one in any direction you are bound to find some. I just ran under the bridge, foregoing logic in hopes of magic being a better compass. I had also brought along some unicorn tears for hydration and fairy poop for sports gel. The one thing in which my instincts did serve me well was my pace. I adjusted the route based on the time I had clocked, and when checked against the route I ended up running I was spot on for mileage. So, Yeah for me.

At about mile 16 the pain started to manifest as knots in my knees and hot lead in my thighs. I stopped to down a sports drink but forgot all about the fairy poop in my pocket. After the respite I headed back down the back path to the end point. As I neared the end of the bike path leg of the run a large woman trotted past me and my heart sank a little. But even wounded pride couldn't spur my legs to kick faster. It was cool. Way to go sister. I'll have to check 'Missed Connections' to see if she noticed lapping me.

I was so delirious from the 20 that I paid $8 for a berry shake at Pump. It was a good shake to be sure, but not $8 good. I was sore for the rest of the night and thirsty, insatiably thirsty. The next day I wore a brace on my creaky left knee. I had to work the rest of the weekend. At least I have a job that demands I stand on my feet for 10 hours at a time. It sucked, but probably went a long way toward flushing out the lactic acid.  By Saturday evening the knee was fine. Sunday morning there was still some slight soreness in the ole chicken thighs. Monday night I was ready for my Hill work with the Hellgaters. I ran slower than the week before, but faster than a couple weeks before that. I hit the accelerator as I headed up the hill for the final loop and passed a fellow Hellgater mumbling, "Man, you guys are good".  Like any good compliment whore that gave me some extra burn. Perfect timing since that final burst was icing my lungs.

The Tuesday Switch went smashing today. Sorry about the smashing line, just finished Christopher Moore's,  Fool. Which is King Lear from the perspective of Lear's fool, coming from the mind of Christopher Moore its hysterically perverse. Sharon and I met at a park near the apartment and I did some warming up in between giving the girls a push on the swing.  I did a nice, easy pace until I got to Roosevelt, where I tried to maintain marathon pace for the entire run around the island. I couldn't maintain the 8 minute pace the entire time, but I'd say I kept it there about 85% of the run, finishing with an 8:10 pace.

No more big runs coming up, topping out at 8 this Friday. I will try to avoid the very aptly named Taper Tantrums, penned by Dave Kuehls in his article Taper Traps.  This is a great article about what to avoid in the weeks right before a big race. Thanks Andrew for passing it along. I'm scared and excited about the big race on the 26th, just a week away. I would love to get under four hours, but since its my first full marathon I will PR no matter what.  If you have any advice I would love to hear it. Especially recommendations for the pre-race meal the night before.  Don't know if I'll blog again before Seattle, but I'll post something after fo'sho'.
Daddy Legs

My trip to Niagara

Haven't posted in a while because I have only ran since since last Wednesday. It all started on Friday when one of my servers had to miss work due to a family emergency. I had to take his shift which destroyed the long run of my peak miles week, a 20 miler. Turns out I would have missed the run no matter what. I started experiencing stomach cramps after everything I ate on that same day. After initial research I was horrified that I may have developed lactose intolerance. I fully want to tolerate lactose, I enthusiastically endorse lactose by the vanilla bean bowlful. This was unacceptable. I cut out the dairy just in case but the symptoms only worsened to the yuckety-yuck, poopy end of things.  I won't go into details other than a single descriptive, Niagara! It was falling in gushing torrents of brown yuckiness (sorry, I couldn't resist) By the end of the weekend I wasn't eating much and each trip to the bathroom left me feeling dehydrated. I bellied up Monday night and did my Hill work with the Hellgaters and even had a pretty good run. Later that night Niagara returned with horrible vengeance. Tuesday morning I felt like a man just out of the desert. Parched, thirsty, and hungry. Still I tried to bang out some miles but didn't even get down the block before the flood gates began tickling me bum. I called it quits and began calling around for an appointment.  Turns out I had a virus. Doc gave me some Imodium to dam up the falls and I've been on the mend since.

Wednesday and Thursday brought evening rain and late nights at work so no runs were logged. This brings us to today, Friday, June 11th. Later today I will attempt to put 20 miles on the board. I'm not sure it is at all wise or recommended to go for that distance after so many rest days, but I'ma due ma! I need this run psychologically, and I need to get it in with enough time to recover before the marathon on June 26th.  I'm nervous. I can't say I'm so nervous I could shit myself because the Imodium won't allow that. But I'm afeard. I'll post the Pain Repot later.

PS
It would sure make me feel pretty if so more people would follow along. There's a little button down at the right that makes it easy. This will be only time, out of 17 more, in which I will stoop to such beggary.

Work Out: 5/25

Med-Long + Hills
Sharon's little girl had a fever so there was no Tuesday Switch today, and I missed Monday night Hills with the Hellgaters due to Dare Project rehearsal. So I had to do my scheduled nine miles when Lisa got home from work plus the hills I missed. I must say the run went great, though the route I took was 8.4 miles, not my scheduled nine. The first two miles were slow and easy. As were the first four laps around the hill. At the fifth lap my legs were feeling stronger and my pace was getting quicker and quicker. After the hill work I take a short loop around the top of Shore Blvd before heading home on the east side of the park. This leg of the run was exhilarating. As I came under the Hellgate Bridge a charge of energy rippled up my legs causing y hairs to stand on end. Mmm, runner's high. I bogarted it all the way home. My pace got even faster. I was sprinting up the incline of 33rd Street between Astoria Blvd and 28th Ave, which is a 6% + graded elevation. It made up for the horrible runs of last week.
8.4 + Hills
Time: 1:08:32
Pace: 8:11
Feeling: Like Forrest Gump

18 Miles, An Elevator and a Train

The week started out terrible with a rushed 4 miler on Monday. Lisa had to work a tad late. I was busy getting something ready for dinner that could be easily cooked. I went with Fajita Burgers, very spicy and very good. (Fajita Burger Recipe) I needed to get my run in, eat if I go back in time, and head out for an eight o'clock rehearsal. I headed out the door for the run with no prep and I could feel it from the start. My legs didn't loosen up until the 3 mile mark, but I did get home in time for a nice burger and rehearsal went well.

A brief word about privacy
I need to address something that came up jut before this terrible 4 miler. We all have moments when our actions demand privacy. I don't refer here to moments when others should give one privacy, but rather, moments when one should excuse themselves. Lisa was telling me of her day as I hurried to changed into running gear. Feeling short on time I dropped trow and slathered on the Pro Glide. Lisa was mildly disgusted by this site and let me know that this was something I should never again do in front of her. This is probably common sense to most, but if like me you are a lack wit, please take heed of the following advice. Anti-chaffing cream should be saved for alone time. Excuse yourself form the presence of a loved one before application. If at a race, go to a Porta-Potty.

Tuesday's run was worse. There was a steady rain all day. Sharon held up to her end of the Tuesday Switch and came over so I could do my 9 miler. I had missed my Hill work with the Hellgaters due to rehearsal the previous night so I routed in the same 3.5 mile loop into my nine. The steady rain was actually refreshing, what sucked was the steadily progressive pain in my lower left shin. It felt like a bruised knot was trapped under my shin bone. I got five loops around the hill before I stopped and tried to work out the kink. I did one more loop and decided to cut the hill portion of the run. The achy shin was taking a toll on my form and by the time I headed into the return leg of the run my right knee started hurting. I cut another mile off the run and headed home. My nine had turned into a plodding and painful seven. The next day my shin hurt even more. The more I walked the more it hurt, and I do a lot of walking at work. The Wednesday workout was canceled. Thursdays are a scheduled rest day, giving me two days to recover. So I devoted Wednesday and Thursday to heavy icing, bitching and moaning. I don't know how effective the icing was but by Friday the bitching, and especially the moaning had worked wonders on my shin. I was ready to take on 18 miles and garner a new PR.

Friday was early for all in the Galaites household. Lisa needed to be out the door before eight for a 9 AM meeting. Ella and I usually arrive at day care around 11:30, but left with Lisa so I could have a shorter day of work, allowing me to get 18 in before dark. By three o'clock I was back in Queens and running toward my first 18.

lack wit |lack wit|
verb [ trans. ]
to be without or deficient in the ability to accurately discern appropriate moment for anti-chaffing cream application, or map a running route : daddy legs is a lack wit for spending hours mapping a run but only hit his target milage by accident | he is a lack wit for applying Pro Glide to inner thighs in front of his wife | Daddy Legs is lack witted for signing up for a full marathon.

The run started off well for no other reason than my shin wasn't hurting. Although the first few miles of a long run are always annoying due to the sound of sloshing water. After a mile or so the sloshing fades to white noise and becomes the promise of tepid refreshment. I plotted the run along 37th Street knowing there would be stops and starts, especially at the BQE (Bronx-Queens Expressway) overpass at Hoyt Ave and Astoria Blvd, thinking it would help control my pace. I start every long run with the mantra "run your easy runs easy". But 18 miles isn't easy, it's incredibly hard, so I should take it easy. But I didn't, I took it hard. Because as I stated earlier I am a lack-wit. In addition to not taking it easy I threw in a little extra distance. Instead of turning on Hazen and heading over to 19th Ave, I crossed over Hazen and ran up to 81st Street and looped over to 19th. My instinct not to trust my instincts proved to fortuitous as it actually brought me to the 18 mile mark. I did map out the run before hand, all I can say is please refer to lack-wit above. The most notable land mark in this area is Rikers Island, one bridge I hope to never cross. The 20th Ave running path is sandwiched between the Terry Gilliam-esque Con-Ed plant and a long row of storage units, it's not a scenic leg but offers a wide path with no interruption from 31st Street to Shore Boulevard, and about a quarter mile 2% rise. This area is also the meeting grounds for every driving school in Queens, from high schoolers to truckers.

Going Up?
The Park is probably the best area to run in Astoria. It has a lot of uninterrupted paths, rolling hills, a track, several water fountains, and two bathrooms. The only other route that rivals Astoria Park is the perimeter run around Roosevelt Island. It was the Park leg of the run when I pulled off for the first of many stops for cold sips from a water fountain and to stretch my legs, and one potty break. I was hoping the stretching would put some spring in my legs. I felt plodding the whole run, uncontrollably slow rather than purposely slow. The plodding feel got worse as I made my way around Roosevelt Island, stopping three times. THREE TIMES! I've only run once with Lisa specifically because she likes to take walk breaks during her runs. My two day bitching/moaning fest obviously did not have the recuperative effects I had thought. Completing the perimeter of Roosevelt brings you just under the Roosevelt Bridge. There are two options for getting up to, and over the bridge. Option One, the one I have taken the many dozens of times I have run this route, is to take the winding stairs. Option Two, the one I have hitherto sneered at, is to take the elevator. I took option two and the 60 second respite it offered was about 700 seconds too short.

The next stop is Broadway
As I exited Roosevelt Island I was entering mile 15 of 18, or mile 1 of the three mile toddler drag. It felt like Ella and one of her friends latched on to a leg each and demanded I drag them to the finish. (Ella is my beautiful sweet pea and the friend being dragged along would probably be her pal Ethan, whom she refers to as "My Ethan". The weekend before my longest run Lisa and Ella went to a birthday party for Ethan's little sis Samantha, referred to as "My Samantha", when Ethan and Ella weren't seen for a few minutes Lisa popped in to check on them. The two were on the bed pretending to be sleeping. The pain I was feeling during that 18 miler will seem like a walk through the park compared to Ella's teen years.) I had to talk myself out of quitting. To do so I didn't give myself inspirational words of motivation, just the horrible truth that 26.2 will be the same kind of hurt, except for longer. So I plodded on toward the Pulaski Bridge, the very same bridge that sent me into Brooklyn a year earlier and my first ever endurance run. The bridge was my turn around point, I paused to stretch and steel myself for the last mile. I dragged the toddlers back up Vernon Boulevard and turned onto 31st Ave, the sweet, beautiful end of my run. An end that came sooner than I had mapped. At 11th street the hurt overtook my will. Amazingly the little extra I had tacked on at the beginning of the run gave me exactly what I needed to reach my 18 mile goal. I pulled off to get some chocolate milk and a sports drink before heading to 31st street to catch the N train home. There was little I could do to protect my fellow passengers from my smell, 18 miles is going to produce some stink. I was polite enough to keep my arms pressed against my sides so they would not get a whiff of the pits, but thats all I could do. At least I had the decency to be embarrassed by it.

The 18 hurt, but next time it will hurt a little less. The week itself was bad in regard to workouts, mileage and weather. But 18 miles is in the book and that feels great. Next week I hit peek mileage; 5, 10, 5, and 20. So here's my question, Should I call the 20 miler 'The Andrew Jackson', or something else?

OUCH! You can see the run by clicking this link.
Milage: 18 Time: 2:51:15
Pace: 9:30 (plodder)
Feeling: Get off my leg Ella. You're too heavy!

Lay-Away

Crowded on the N train with the lucky ones heading out for a race got me to thinking about my upcoming first marathon. This sea of bobbing bibs were moments away from finally toeing the line, thereby putting long months of miles and workouts to the test. My own training started in February and will culminate in 26.2 miles of hurt on June 26. Winter into summer. For most runners training for a big race the schedule spans a season or two, which is very much like Lay-Away. In case you don't know about this pre credit card bonanza buying scheme here's the gist. You put 10-15% down on one or more items, and then pay a minimum amount every month until the items are paid off, thus the items have been laid-away. Its the never been owned version of being in hock. When I was growing-up lay-away was the modus-operandi for getting the 'back to school' wardrobe each fall. It was also the usual way of getting the big ticket Christmas items.

The beauty of Lay-Away is that it allows for folks to get something they want, but only when they can afford it. Putting a little away until the items are yours, like banking miles while building your base. The problem with lay-away in regard to clothing, is that the wardrobe is always "so last year". That was said to me once, I hope that girl is now fat and sedentary. Things can change over a season, especially the summer. What looked good against the pasty skin tone of spring may not look good against the bronzed skin from a summer of sun. And that graphic tee reading 'Meet the Dweebs', was probably better left in the prison of lay-away. Why-o-why, did I ever parole that t-shirt? Maybe that girl had a point.

Training is just like the lay-away plan. The race itself is purchased in full, but the goal set for that race is put on law-away, with payment being made daily over long months of suspended anticipation. The miles get longer as less layers of clothing are needed. And over those months the race is always on your mind, being fast forwarded and rewound, looked at from every angle. My long runs are accompanied by a sports commentator journalling the Cinderella story of a first time, 9:19 per mile marathoner reaching down deep and somehow shaving off enough time to qualify for Boston. I don't hear the voice in stereo so I'm not yet concerned about psychosis. The race will never look that good on me, so in that way its like the 'Meet the Dweebs' t-shirt sitting in lay-away, but its the goal of a sub-four marathon that I'm paying off, not a BQ'er. I still have some big installments to make. This week will be my highest mileage total to date with 4, 9, 5, and an 18 mile long run. My highest total will be a 40 mile week, with a 20 mile long run. And just like those middle-school days of lay-away when I pondered over the summer what outfit would best start off the new year, I now wonder if I should go with the Nike short-shorts paired with the gray Lulu Lemon tech-shirt, or my Hellgate Road Runners singlet. I'll pack both just to be safe.

Testing myself against 26.2 will be worth the effort of preparing regardless of my finishing time. Fortunately, a race is never "so last year", and finishing a marathon never goes out of style. Except in Pearl Izumi print ads.

Work Out: 5-11

Headed out for a med-long of 8 this morning, big shout out to Sharon for continuing the Tuesday switch even as my miles climb in length. Decided to take a little detour along the water and the Astoria PJ's. Nice run until the promenade end, forcing you to take 1st street to either 27th or 26th Avenues. I took 26th Ave, running through a small industrial part of Astoria. I ran right by the Hellgate Filming Studios, which looked like a couple of double wide trailers in front of a smoke stack factory. Though only mildly attractive, the route added some miles, for that I'm grateful. 26th Ave dead-ends, so I headed up to 27th Ave where I got back to my planned route. At Astoria Park I did 10 loops around the my usual hill route then finished up the run. The legs felt strong all the way through the run. I didn't push hard on the hill loops, but I also kept up the pace for most of the run. If you check the stats you'll see it is one of my faster times. Just adding short bursts of speed for one or two segments of every run has really helped to up my pace per mile. I thank fartleks for that. Speaking of fartleks, I have started a running group on Mapmyrun.com called The Fartlekers. If you run, anywhere, for any distance, PLEASE join up.
Happy Running

8 Mile + Hills: 8.66
Time: 1:09:59
Pace:8:08

Work Out: 5/03 or Extra Lap of Awesome

Weekly Monday work out with the Hellgate Road Runners is Hill Loops. 10 times around a .33 mile loop that has a 20% grade on the uphill side. The usual speedsters were all abscent due to the Long Island Marathon the day before, but a new guy had shown up who proved to be way to fast for me. I did maintain second position through the run, several positions closer to first than I have ever been before. The goal with this run was to push myself to run faster before the final lap. I have noticed that I have too much to burn at the end of runs due to not running hard enough in earlier segments. So tonight I started pushing it from the get go. It was beating me down and toward the end I started thinking maybe this will be the run where I push myself to puking. The runners trophy of hard work. I started imagining my fellow Hellgaters gathered around, celebrating my stomach bile and the feat of taking myself past the brink . That Chariots of Fire moment was lost when one team mate started to shoulder her way past me on the downhill segment. I had held on to the second spot for too long and wasn't going to give it. I found another gear and burned down the hill and around for another lap. My stomach turned to ice causing cold gusts of breath to get stuck in my throat. As I turned the final corner heading to my sweet bottle of water I saw that same girl that tried to shoulder past me standing by the start point. Nobody lapped me. Curses! I had run an eleventh lap. Curses because I still had not left enough on the course, until that final lap. The vomit will have to wait for another day.
Hills
10 Laps: 24:46
11 Laps: 26:56
Pace: 7:17 (based on 10 laps)
Splits: 2.25, 2.29, 2.27, 2.28, 2.24, 2.29, 2.29, 2.35, 2.34, 2.21, 2,10 (extra lap)

Work Out: 5/04 Mmm...Fartleks

Yes, Fartleks. I have ignored you for too long. Went out with my running buddy Ken to do eight miles but ended up with a good seven. Ran first mile or so at a slow pace, then did three minutes fast and then ran until I felt recovered, which was longer than the planned five minute recovery jog. This last bit is why I love the Fartlek so much. Its so informal and natural. At one point the three minute burst was up but Ken suggested we sprint it out the shade ahead of us. Perfect Fartlek philosophy. At the start of the run I had clipped about six dollars to my waistband, just after the first mile I realized the the money was one. Once we got left the Roosevelt Island segment I started scanning the ground in hopes of finding my cash. I was so intent on finding my loot that I missed Ken's joke, which he told over a quarter mile leg. Something about a monkey dipping his balls in some guys drink. I asked him to type up the joke so I could post it here but that email never made it to my in-box. Probably for the best. The money had actually fallen out before I even left the house. All in all a good run.

Full Roosevelt Island-Vernon Route or FRI-V
Distance: 7
Time: 1:00
Pace: 8:34

Work Out: 4/30

With some heavy icing Thursday night my knew was ready for a few miles today. A Long Run of 16 miles was scheduled but I scaled it back to 7 due to Thursdays limping about. I ran the Roosevelt-36th Ave Route and, oddly, I posted my best time for this course by two minutes. However, I don't understand the second mile split of 9:54, that's the pace I run when pushing Ella in the jogging stroller.

Route:Roosevelt Island-36th Ave Return
Time: 1:00:00 (7 mile PR)
Splits: 9.20, 9.54 (What?), 7.49, 8.19, 8.18, 8.20, 8.27

Curs'ed Tea Salon

There won't be a long run today. I banged my knee on a nouveau, art deco, plexiglass piece of garbage at the fucking tea salon. A piece of garbage which shouldn't have been there since everything at the tea salon is supposed to be Victorian decor. Spent Thursday limping about. Feeling better today but am hesitant to go long. If the knee is feeling good later this afternoon I may go for a short run with my running buddy, who read these same words in an email I sent to him this morning. Reduce, REUSE, Recycle!

Shorties

So I received a $50 gift certificate to runningwharehouse.com and bought a pair of Nike shorts, 7" outseam. Compared to many things that come to my mind, 7 inches is long. Shorts, not so much. Though I bought the shorts myself and even signed for the package when it arrived, Lisa felt they should be wrapped since they were a birthday present. I bring this up because just before I unwrapped the gift Ella let me know that they were not shorts, and then she let me know that my next gift wasn't a book. Lisa and I both laughed when I held up the shorts. Mine was a "man I hope I can pull these off" type of laugh. Lisa's was more of a "wow! I married a guy that wears shorts like that" type of laugh. I was a bit nervous, these are serious shorts.

The Lulu Lemon gear is one thing, it was all given to me. I've never bought a single thing from that store, I've wanted to, but the water bottles are too expensive. Lucky for us though, Lisa's best friend worked at a Lulu Lemon for a time and I got a couple of Tech shirts for Christmas one year. Even more lucky for me, this same friend got her father a couple of Tech shirts for his birthday but decided not to give them to him, so I got them instead. Being given something provides a safety net in that my wife gave me the shirts, she thought I would look good in them. And if the wife thinks you look good in something you needn't any other reason to wear it. But I bought the shorts, and short shorts are an advertisement to all around that you mean business. People don't wear short shorts for a two miler. Short Shorters don't even do two milers. Short shorts are for the long run, intervals, hill work, Marathons. The top finishers at any race are all Short Shorters. In fact, the top finishers would consider my 7" outseam shorts prudish. I needed time to debate if a I had the legs to be a Short Shorter. I don't mean physically attractive legs. I have what is referred to in medical terms as chicken legs, I prefer daddy legs, so that was ruled out from the get-go.

I was afraid of being a poser. Wearing short shorts is like showing up at the tennis court in full La Coque Sportif whites, with three rackets slung over you shoulder without even knowing what Love-40 means. Echoing in my head was the question "am I a strong enough runner to pull off the short shorts?". Was I trying to divert attention away from my 9 minute pace? And why aren't my legs any less chickeny (again, medical term) after all these miles? Damn you DNA! For several days I pretended to debate this short shorts question. I say pretended not because the doubts were merely writers embellishment, but because despite how foolish I might look I was going to wear them at least once. I had a ten miler scheduled for my next long run, that would be the day. I would wear the short shorts and my Lulu Lemon Tech shirt with the lime green skulls, because it matched the green stripe on the shorts. I would also take my new ankle high compression socks for a spin. Mmmmm, accessories. I was meeting friends in Brooklyn after the run and wouldn't be heading home until the end of the night. So I mapped a route up the Hudson River Greenway. I wasn't going to put my work shoes back on after a long run, and in order to keep the pack light I decided to wear my running shoes for my night out in Brooklyn. Sadly, this meant my new shoes, Mizuno Wave Rider 13's, would have to sit this one out, so I took the Asics out of their recent retirement for one last one. The same shoes that accompanied me for the Three Bridges Run, my very first pair of running shoes.

The run went from 10 miles to 14 before I hit the road. A good part of the run took me up through Riverside Park, the 5 mile mark would have me stop and turn around a mere 20 or so blocks from the top of the park, but not touring the entire park felt like quitting, so I tacked on a couple extra miles. It was supposed to be a tapper week but I had missed my hill day with the Astoria Hellgaters, so I thought it would be a beautiful way to make up some lost miles. And it was beautiful. I left Irving Place heading west on 17th, this mile and little bit is the only part of the entire run with traffic interruptions, which in New York ranks the run at an 8 automatically.

There are great views of Jersey looking wantonly back at the New York skyline, small parks and a few cafes can be found along the route. The USS Intrepid is permanently moored at Pier 86 at 46th Street and is home to the Intrepid Sea-Air-Space Museum. Wow! Tour Guide much? There's also a couple of bathrooms along the route which is very nice.

I kept running until I knew for certain I had passed the tip of Riverside Park and then some. I actually found myself at the foot of some stairs leading up to 136th St. At the foot of those stairs were several young gentlemen. A few of the young men were dressed in crisp camouflage fatigues and wrapped around the torso of one kid was a munitions belt. The belt could have held 12 or 16 clips on each side. The kid had his thumbs through the straps like a farm boy and I got the feeling this was a fashion statement, not a uniform. Still, I did what any seasoned New Yorker does when in a strange neighborhood, I waited for someone else to venture past the gaggle of military fashionistas. When no attention was paid to the test subject I fell in behind and made my way up. I paused for a moment once up top to shake off the cowardice, and then turned south for the return leg.

I had taken Cytomax Tangerine/Orange along for hydration because it will be served along the route in Seattle this June. I never felt that it quenched my deepening thirst. Were I to describe it with one word it would have to be Hairy. It lingered in my throat and left my mouth feeling as though I had gargled a bottle of simple syrup. Sorry Cytomax, I'll be sticking with the low-tech aqua.

After the run, I made it to Brooklyn but the beers were few. In fact, it was just one. A friend had a pint glass full of ice water and I was staring it down like a C-Note lying in the street. I don't believe covet is too strong a word. I coveted somebody's free glass of water. The thirst just couldn't be quenched, so I kept drinking, and drinking. This super hydration did not make the train ride from Park Slope, Brooklyn to Astoria, Queens much fun. When I finally reached my stop I scurried home as fast as my legs could go and headed straight for the first of a dozen or so trips to the bathroom. Lisa had a friend visiting that night, and around trip number six I started sneaking to the bathroom, furtively opening the bedroom door and then the bathroom, in hopes of not being heard. Ella had fallen asleep in our bed and I jealously wished I had a pair of pull-ups. Sans the Depends and my bed-wetting conquered way back in college, I played the part of the metronome, steadily swinging back and forth between bed and toilet, bed and toilet, bed and toilet. Man what I would have given for a good ole' undergrad black-out.

I didn't know it at the time but I had actually logged 16 miles. A new record for me, I'm sorry, a new PR. I shouldn't neglect the vernacular. The one thing that became abundantly clear is that no matter how hard I train, no matter how many miles I log, 26.2 is going to hurt. The training is to see how long I can run in discomfort. Not debilitating pain, but tolerable discomfort. There will be a good six or seven miles at the end where I'm going to be wishing it was over. I'm sure I'll question why I ever thought it a good idea to put myself to such a test. What I will no longer question is the short shorts. The way I see it, they're 16 miles long now. Having set a PR I now wonder, can I pull off a 5" outseam? Hmmm.

Route: West Side 16
Distance: 16 Miles
Time: 2:14:22
Pace: 8:23.9
Feeling: Thirsty, awesome, a little sexy-but too sore!

Work Out: 4/21

So I didn't 'man up' to the root canal. In fact I striaght up ditched the dental appointment. I told myself it was due to inclement weather, in truth there was only a ligt drizzle. The sun came out in the middle of my run to shine down on my shame. I ended up doing two miles at a good pace, 1 mile of Hills, then a mile cool down. I can't joke my way into another cancelation. Next week I have scheduled another dental appointment.
4 miles: 2 mile warm up, 1 mile Hills, 1 mile cool down.
Time: 36:08
Splits: 8:29, 8:35, 9:57, 9:06.

Work Out: 4/19

Took day off (sceduled: 3 mile easy run) due to etreme exhaustion. Translation, hung over due to many birthday beers. The road toward running away from my impending 4-0 started with a lazy day off.

Workout: Tuesday, April 20

Ha, ha. It's 4-20. Well those days are certainly gone. Now it's a 7 mile tempo run. I started with a very slow, very easy 21 minute jog. Followed by 10 minutes at a comfortably hard pace in which I clocked a 7 minute mile. Lighting fast for me. The rest of the work was to be a 6 minute recovery jog followed by an optional 12 minute fast pace run. I ended up doing slightly slower mile splits for the rest of the run. Finishing with a 7:02 for the full run. Only one minute faster than my usual pace. This begs the question, "What the he'll am I doing?" I think all my runs are tempo runs, even my Hill workouts usually end with negative splits. The next question is how do I log this? Medium long run? Tempo? Fartlek? Fartlek. It really is one if my favorite words. Next up, track work with the Hellgaters. Track work is like is like root canal surgery. It sucks, but when it's on the schedule you man up and just do it.

Distance: 7 miles
Time: 1:02
Splits: 9.28, 12.06, 7.02, 7.37, 8.51,9.02, 8.46
Route: Full Roosevelt Run , http://www.mapmyrun.com/run/united-states/ny/-astoria/353127117481069768

The Tuesday Switch

I have fallen into a sweet deal. My wife's friend Sharon proposed she and I take turns watching each others kids while the other takes a run. I have the better end of this deal as she runs only a few miles at a time, but Tuesdays are my medium-long runs. When we first started the switch I was doing five, it's up to seven now, but will be up to 10 miles in the coming weeks. Because of this lopsided exchange of kids I no longer need to debate between a pre-dawn run or an after dinner run, neither of which has much up side for me. Late morning runs are my thing. Plenty of afternoon left for errands and just enough morning left for one more cup of coffee. This Tuesday Switch brings to light the difficulty of finding the time to run long. The problem with early morning runs is that it effects the twelve hours before. This is fine the night before a race, but the precious few hours after the toddler beds down need to be devoted to the DVR. House, 24, American Idol, and 30 Rock arne't going to watch themselves. Conversely, after dinner runs are heavy on the stomach. If you like second tastes of spaghetti try 3 mile hill repeats after eating. Besides, staring a ten mile run at 7 PM leaves little time to hang with my girls. So I have one of two long days figured out, thanks entirely to the thoughtfulness of some one else. I still have to play my truly long runs by ear.

Shout Out
Scheduling runs when the miles get long is taxing. My wife fully supports the running but the time takes a toll on the whole family. I'm running a 26.2 on June 26th. I started training March 1st, building base miles in January and February. The better part of the year given over to a painful, hopefully sub four hour run. It takes dedication to grind out miles and workouts over 17 weeks, and an equal amount of support. So to my girls at home that earnestly ask "how was the run?" to my running buddy Ken 'Waist Coat' Feringi, and to my fellow Tuesday Switcher, Sharon, I give a big shout out. Thanks for helping me across the finish. At last i hope to get across the finish line. THANKS! You da best.

Work Out: 4/20

Ha, ha. It's 4-20. Well those days are certainly gone. Now it's a 7 mile tempo run. I started with a very slow, very easy 21 minute jog. Followed by 10 minutes at a comfortably hard pace in which I clocked a 7 minute mile. Lighting fast for me. The rest of the work was to be a 6 minute recovery jog followed by an optional 12 minute fast pace run. I ended up doing slightly slower mile splits for the rest of the run. Finishing with a 7:02 for the full run. Only one minute faster than my usual pace. This begs the question, "What the he'll am I doing?" I think all my runs are tempo runs, even my Hill workouts usually end with negative splits. The next question is how do I log this? Medium long run? Tempo? Fartlek? Fartlek. It really is one if my favorite words. Next up, track work with the Hellgaters. Track work is like is like root canal surgery. It sucks, but when it's in the sceduled you man up and just do it.

Three Bridges Run

I first started running in November of 2008 as a replacement addiction to smoking. Like many beginners I did a mile, then two, then over that Christmas I went for a run with two of my brothers-in-law for what amounted to a three miler. Three miles...consecutively. In addition to the exhilaration of not sitting on the couch, the sport of running is perfectly suited to accessorizing. I'm a hobbiest by nature. The allure of hobbies are the many tools one needs to pursue them and the lingo that attends them. Carboys, trub and secondary fermentation are just some of the delicious words from my beer making lexicon. To those I could now add negative splits, tempo run and fartlek. Mmmmmm. I was hooked. I immediately canceled my subscription to Time to make room for Runner's World and Running Times Magazine.
My miles gradually increased and in late April of '09 I broke double digits with a run to and around Roosevelt Island. The bridge heading over to Roosevelt was my first bridge. Unimpressive in span and ugly, but my first, and like any good 'First' it was gentle and easy going, so it will always be special to me. The south end of the island takes you under the Queensboro Bridge, and a stones throw away from the abandoned small pox hospital. As I rounded the north end of Roosevelt and spotted the pedestrian bridge from Randall's Island over to Manhattan, and the Triboro seemingly parallel to it just to the east, I decided I wanted to run all the bridges of Manhattan. Someday, if I kept this running thing up.

Cinco de Mayo
A week or so after the Roosevelt 10 Miler, giving important runs a title is one of the few free accessories, I headed out for a short and easy jog. I didn't have any particular distance in mind, just that it would be a couple of easy miles for a few reasons. First, I had just completed my own personal marathon with the Roosevelt 10 Miler, there was a light rain, and Lisa I had tickets to see Ben Harper and Relentless 7 debut their first album at Irving Plaza that night. As I headed south down Vernon Boulevard, past my bridge over to Roosevelt, I decided I would run to Queensboro and back home. A nice, medium run. Things went wrong at Queensboro. I decided to tack on a little more by heading further east, thinking I could take the small overpass I often saw out of the east side window of the N/W train heading home. I later learned this overpass is named Honeywell Street. I didn't find Honeywell that Cinco de Mayo. I thought I found it, but what actually I found was the Pulaski Bridge. Nor was I heading toward the N/W line as I thought. I was heading south, into Brooklyn, Greenpoint to be exact. As you come across the Pulaski there is a sign directing you west to the water front, I took this route hoping to find my bearings. By the time I hit he sign saying "This Way to Williamsburg Bridge" I had gone too far to turn back. Besides, I could notch off two bridges with one run. So I followed the signs to Williamsburg Bridge and made my way over to the city.

I love the Williamsburg Bridge. Besides the obvious great views, wide lanes marked for the appropriate flow of traffic make for a great run. To the south are the Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges. Something crazy started brewing in my head as I ran over the Williamsburg. I could run three bridges. The Brooklyn Bridge wasn't that much further and I hadn't even walked the Brooklyn Bridge. That's something everyone is supposed to do. Even if you're only in the City for a few days, you go to the Brooklyn Bridge. It had a TV show named after it for goodness sake. But how to get to it? I was already admittedly lost, I couldn't get more lost. However, I had been gone for a while already. I needed to head home, the Brooklyn Bridge would have to wait for another run. But three bridges in one run was to sexy to ignore. Before I had completed the Williamsburg I was already constructing the Facebook update in my head, 'The Three Bridges Run'. The Brooklyn Bridge was out, but to get home I would have to cross the Queensboro. I could do that by train, OR, I could run and thereby challenge myself to the greatest physical endeavor of my life, and publish the all to rare, worthwhile to read, Facebook update. (Forest Gump accent please) So I went running.

For much of the east side run I had embarked upon there is spacious and safe bike lanes. But at one point the bike lane ends without warning. So I found myself running on the shoulder of the highway, on a narrow strip of concrete. Were I to slip there would be no way for a speeding car to avoid grounding me into road kill. Stupidly I continued. In fact, the danger of it didn't even occur to me until later when I was recounting the run. I survived my Running with the Bulls and trudged my way over the Queensboro Bridge. 2:28 minutes, three bridges, and three boroughs later I completed 15 miles, which is still my longest run.

To be honest the last mile up to and over the Queensboro is better called a fast walk, perhaps even a speedy limp. I was hurting bad. The walk up the stairs was slow, horrible and painful. The walk down from the train platform was worse. I don't know what I looked like after that run, but when I came up a dollar short for my raspberry/banana smoothie with a shot of protein powder at Soho Diner, the guy at the register had a bit of concern in his voice when he said, "Don't worry about it man". I sipped on my windfall as I limped the fifteen minute walk home. When I walked in the door Lisa popped up, obviously she had been far more concerned than the generous smoothie artist. I had been running for two and half hours, gone for nearly three. My runs were gauged in minutes, not hours. This was unusual to say the least. Lisa asked if I was okay, I let her know I was then recounted the route I had traveled. Lisa, my beautiful, caring wife, was impressed and then immediately concerned. "You can still go to the show tonight, right?". I assured her I could, but first I needed some ibuprofen and a nap. My legs were still lead that night and every flight of stairs were still painful, and there were many, many, flights of stairs. I had to suppress an "Ouch" with each footfall up or down. Lisa had a couple of beers while I gleefully paid $5 for 10 ounce bottles of water, and an extra dollar for a cup full of gorgeously gleaming ice cubes. The concert was great. Ben and the band only played songs from the new album, plus a few new covers. Ben said he wasn't going to revisit the old days of the Innocent Criminals, he was doing something new now. Right on. I wasn't going to go back to the nicotine stinking sloth whose body turned to lead after a 12 minute mile. I was a runner now, an endurance runner. I had taken my body beyond its limitations and kept it there for a few hours.

Just a year before the Three Bridges Run I had said to Lisa "I would literally rather hammer a nail through my toe than run 26 miles". Well, on June 26 I'm doing 26.2 with the same two guys that took me on that first three mile run, my bros-in-law, Chris (doing the half) and Andrew (doing the full, and hopefully qualifying for Boston 2011). My sis-in-law is joining in for 13 as well. We planned a vacay to Seattle so I could run 26.2 miles. Boy how times have changed.