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