I may not make it to the Brooklyn half on Saturday. I am just exhausted right now and won't get to bed before 1 a.m. either tonight or Friday. Getting up at 5 a.m. to go run a half-marathon.... I don't know. I would much rather get my sleep on Saturday and put in a long run on my own time later in the day. It's not like I've been training for this one, or anything. I guess I'll see how wiped out I feel Saturday morning.
I did get a solid five miles in last Sunday and it felt really good. Minor amounts of walking, but nothing too disappointing. I haven't been running this week, except for running between two jobs. This will continue thru next week and then things lighten up. Time to start getting some runs in before going to work, now that the sun is rising in good time.
April 12, 2007
April 6, 2007
When will spring arrive?
Alright, this is getting downright depressing. I enjoyed an overly-long fall, including 70 degree days in early January, and was running pretty well at the time. Now, however, spring does not seem to want to arrive and we are still experiencing freezing temperatures and rain. Global warming my ass.
It makes me not want to run, much.
Not that I have time. the last week of Feb and the first three weeks of April have, for the last five years, been what I call Hell month. Project after project comes due and I always manage to get it all done. This year, two more large projects were added on top of the usual workload and they'll likely reoccur. My running has suffered for it all, as has my sleep, my nutrition, and...yes...even my health a little. I'm getting gunkier, though I'm not feeling bad or anything. I'm still getting out for a run about once a week, but that's so not enough.
Well, things are breezing right along and I'll get in a good run this weekend; I'm aiming for a slow-and-steady eight-miler. If I do the flat route out to Verrazano Bridge, it should be OK. It's going to be cold and miserable, though.
I'm looking forward to the Brooklyn half the following weekend, in the same way a meth addict looks forward to rehab: he knows it will be good for him and he'll wind up feeling good and feeling like a better man for it; but it will be a slow and painful slog to get there. My strategy is to use the boardwalk miles to warm up, concentrate on NOT walking during the six miles of Ocean Parkway, then deal with the five miles of Prospect Park hills as best I can. If I have to walk some of that, no big deal.
Incidentally, I saw NYFlyGirl at the Scotland Run and we chatted for a bit. I know she doesn't like the Brooklyn half (Queens is her run), but I distinctly recall seeing her zip by last year in good form and I can't shake the impression that it's the kind of challenge she meets well. I also recall that it was directly after my first (and so far only) Brooklyn Half that the Rundown by Derek Rose got started and I started perusing Beast's blog. Neat stuff. BTW, Beast just finished the JFK 50-miler on so little training it's not even funny. How the hell does he do that?? Well, that's neat, too.
And now, a funny easter cartoon which appeals to my dry humour:
It makes me not want to run, much.
Not that I have time. the last week of Feb and the first three weeks of April have, for the last five years, been what I call Hell month. Project after project comes due and I always manage to get it all done. This year, two more large projects were added on top of the usual workload and they'll likely reoccur. My running has suffered for it all, as has my sleep, my nutrition, and...yes...even my health a little. I'm getting gunkier, though I'm not feeling bad or anything. I'm still getting out for a run about once a week, but that's so not enough.
Well, things are breezing right along and I'll get in a good run this weekend; I'm aiming for a slow-and-steady eight-miler. If I do the flat route out to Verrazano Bridge, it should be OK. It's going to be cold and miserable, though.
I'm looking forward to the Brooklyn half the following weekend, in the same way a meth addict looks forward to rehab: he knows it will be good for him and he'll wind up feeling good and feeling like a better man for it; but it will be a slow and painful slog to get there. My strategy is to use the boardwalk miles to warm up, concentrate on NOT walking during the six miles of Ocean Parkway, then deal with the five miles of Prospect Park hills as best I can. If I have to walk some of that, no big deal.
Incidentally, I saw NYFlyGirl at the Scotland Run and we chatted for a bit. I know she doesn't like the Brooklyn half (Queens is her run), but I distinctly recall seeing her zip by last year in good form and I can't shake the impression that it's the kind of challenge she meets well. I also recall that it was directly after my first (and so far only) Brooklyn Half that the Rundown by Derek Rose got started and I started perusing Beast's blog. Neat stuff. BTW, Beast just finished the JFK 50-miler on so little training it's not even funny. How the hell does he do that?? Well, that's neat, too.
And now, a funny easter cartoon which appeals to my dry humour:
April 2, 2007
Two Sundays
Last Sunday
I was in Chicago on business and called up Lora to see if she wanted to go for a run. She'd done 10 the day before but agreed to meet me Sunday afternoon. Having gotten a GPS with the rental car made getting round easy (I have GOT to think about getting one for my motorcycle) and I was soon meeting Lora in the parking lot of the clocktower, where she usually starts her runs. We jogged along the lake shore trail but both of us were having great difficulty with the unexpectedly warm and humid weather. We were doing about 11 m/m, a nice easy jog most days, but it was real work and we had to take walk breaks. It's a pleasure running with Lora, since just as I start thinking about slowing down, she actually does. So we sync nicely on that.
Turns out, though, that she brought the wrong key with her and was locked out of her Jeep. After some phone calls turned up no help, I drove her to her home, which she just moved to recently - a nice condo apartment in Evanston. The view is fantastic and includes a panorama of the lake. I met her bf too and he's just a big teddy bear.
all in all, a very nice visit, though I'm sure Lora wouldn't have wanted it to end with so much drama.
Yesterday
The Scotland Run 10K
My 35th roadrace turned out to be inauspicious. In fact, I'm going to mark it down as one of my top five worst races ever. It wasn't quite in the range of that disastrous Manhattan half of more than a year ago, but it wasn't anything like it should have been. I do NOT want to settle for having to walk hills... But that wasn't even the problem this time - it was just that my legs and lungs weren't ready for this race. At first, my legs hurt and I had to stop and stretch - that's fine, I've done that in races before, and about the halfway point, the pain went away and the legs were good. But I felt lacking in energy and that really hurt my race. Most problematic were the lungs. Even though I was taking hills nearly as easily as flats, my lungs would just run out of air at a certain point. I guess I could get in five to eight minutes of jogging, then have to walk for a minute. It was incredibly frustrating, since this would happen even on downhills. I coughed my head off the entire race and that was even MORE frustrating because it wasn't even a productive cough! So the race went.
To further rub salt in the wound, I failed to out-kick a handful of rather overweight runners at the end of the race. I just couldn't catch them and with every fifty yards I kept losing steam palpably. And that just pissed me off. This was just a bad race in most respects and I just want to put it behind me.
Final time: 1:12:23, my slowest 10K by four minutes. Ugh.
to add insult to injury, I didn't even get to go home, shower, and nap. I spent the next ten hours running from rehearsal to rehearsal and ending with a late dinner with a producer.
I was in Chicago on business and called up Lora to see if she wanted to go for a run. She'd done 10 the day before but agreed to meet me Sunday afternoon. Having gotten a GPS with the rental car made getting round easy (I have GOT to think about getting one for my motorcycle) and I was soon meeting Lora in the parking lot of the clocktower, where she usually starts her runs. We jogged along the lake shore trail but both of us were having great difficulty with the unexpectedly warm and humid weather. We were doing about 11 m/m, a nice easy jog most days, but it was real work and we had to take walk breaks. It's a pleasure running with Lora, since just as I start thinking about slowing down, she actually does. So we sync nicely on that.
Turns out, though, that she brought the wrong key with her and was locked out of her Jeep. After some phone calls turned up no help, I drove her to her home, which she just moved to recently - a nice condo apartment in Evanston. The view is fantastic and includes a panorama of the lake. I met her bf too and he's just a big teddy bear.
all in all, a very nice visit, though I'm sure Lora wouldn't have wanted it to end with so much drama.
Yesterday
The Scotland Run 10K
My 35th roadrace turned out to be inauspicious. In fact, I'm going to mark it down as one of my top five worst races ever. It wasn't quite in the range of that disastrous Manhattan half of more than a year ago, but it wasn't anything like it should have been. I do NOT want to settle for having to walk hills... But that wasn't even the problem this time - it was just that my legs and lungs weren't ready for this race. At first, my legs hurt and I had to stop and stretch - that's fine, I've done that in races before, and about the halfway point, the pain went away and the legs were good. But I felt lacking in energy and that really hurt my race. Most problematic were the lungs. Even though I was taking hills nearly as easily as flats, my lungs would just run out of air at a certain point. I guess I could get in five to eight minutes of jogging, then have to walk for a minute. It was incredibly frustrating, since this would happen even on downhills. I coughed my head off the entire race and that was even MORE frustrating because it wasn't even a productive cough! So the race went.
To further rub salt in the wound, I failed to out-kick a handful of rather overweight runners at the end of the race. I just couldn't catch them and with every fifty yards I kept losing steam palpably. And that just pissed me off. This was just a bad race in most respects and I just want to put it behind me.
Final time: 1:12:23, my slowest 10K by four minutes. Ugh.
to add insult to injury, I didn't even get to go home, shower, and nap. I spent the next ten hours running from rehearsal to rehearsal and ending with a late dinner with a producer.
March 12, 2007
I am amazed
Everyone, check out Bad Ben's newest post, wherein he records milestones most of us will be lucky to ever achieve. I am just floored.
http://badbenkc.blogspot.com/2007/03/my-50th-birthday-proceedings.html
http://badbenkc.blogspot.com/2007/03/my-50th-birthday-proceedings.html
March 11, 2007
I am a long distance runner! (Daily News NY Colon Cancer Challenge)
"Good morning runners!" boomed the voice from twenty speakers set up along Central Park's East Drive. "Welcome to the Colon Cancer 15K! How many of you this morning thought you were showing up for the four miler but forgot to set your clocks ahead?" Meekly, I raise my hand. I notice the other slug-a-beds discreetly don't. "Well, you thought your were going to run four, now you're going to run twice that far!" the cheerful announcer cheerily announces. I want to strangle him. But I am at the back of the pack, about 75 yards from the start line, and my arms aren't that long.
Flashback: My alarm goes off at 6 a.m. I struggle with myself, hitting the snooze bar twice before laying there an additional fifteen minutes trying to decide whether I really want to go do this run or not. After all, I could just as easily catch three more hours of sleep, then go out about 11 or noon and have a nice six or eight-mile run; no subway trains needed.
But I paid seventeen dollars for this "privilege", my ego berates my id. Get up!
I finally get out of bed and put on water for to make a cup of my Magic Tea. I go about the pre-race routine in an orderly manner, a comfortable pace. For some reason, I've been constipated lately, and that drags out my morning. No problem, though. Plenty of time. By 7:10, I'm halfway through my Magic Tea and am idly checking email. Then I hear the announcer on NY1: The temperature is a muggy 44 degrees and the time is 8:10. You didn't forget to set your clock forward last night, did you CRIS? My eyes dart to the upper right corner of my computer screen. Sure enough, this dumb piece of machinery knows enough to put the clock forward, but I had completely missed any and all reminders about Daylight Savings Time and now find myself an hour late.
I leisurely finish my cup of tea.
On the train, I reflect that though I had initially bandied about the thought of doing the 15K, I would much rather run the 4-miler this morning, though I doubted I'd arrive at the park in time to do so, as the race would begin at 9 a.m. 10 days ago, I'd signed up for a bunch of NYRR races - my first ones for the year - and had realized at that time that I was probably not ready for a 15K. But I'd signed up for the 15K anyway, intending that if the next long run (of March 4) went well, I'd go the distance; but if it went badly, I'd just run the 4-miler.
The run had gone badly. In fact, 1/4 mile out, I'd aborted it. It wasn't any one thing; it was a compoundment of factors that made me say, this just isn't happening today. I've only had moments like that once or twice before. And I hadn't run in the ensuing work week, either, a I just began a new job, am in rehearsals for two dance concerts, and am embroiled in a battle with my computer for control over my massive library of photo documentation of my design work. (Praise be to Adobe Lightroom, I am now getting it under control, catalogued, and a large backlog of RAW files processed much easier than in Photoshop.)
I got to the park in time to hear the distant muted announcing for the 4-miler. The race was being run already. I made my way to the registration tent to pick up my bib. D-O-P-H-E-R, I said to the volunteer at the D,E,F box. She looks for my bib for awhile - too long a while. When did you register? she inquires. At that moment, my self-manufactured reality shatters and falls away, like a painted glass from a window frame, and I'm left looking at the true reality: I'd in fact forgotten to register for the race. That, as I registered online for a multiplicity of races, I'd purposely unchecked the box for this race, intending to come back and register for the race I thought I could run after my March 4th long run. And I'd never come back and registered.
Once again, I had an out: I could have just run a leisurely six miles and called it a day, not part of the race at all. But I'd come all this way, mentally gearing up for a run I really didn't want to do, and here I was at the registration tent. So I signed up. Then I noticed that not only had registration fees gone up, but LATE registration fees were also up. (All fees are up 25-50% over last year. Angry face.) To run this race today, I'd need $25. OR... $20 and a winning smile. I turned to one of the two staff members in charge of the tent, a woman I've gotten to know by volunteering at the Marathon Expo for two years. Theresa, I get her attention. I flash her a worried smile. I'm a little short...I've only got a twenty on me. We work something out that doesn't involve sexual favors, and I get a bib. God bless that woman. I am taken back to all those times one of my parents would say, "and what are you going to pay for that with? Your good looks?" Apparently, yes!
Now I have to run the race. From this point on, the race is standard, and course of it agonizingly predictable: the first mile is hell, the next two tough, I'm finally warmed up after mile four, really enjoy mile five, feel like it will never be over, then amazingly, the finish line is right there in front of me. Extremely minor shin splints BEFORE the race, none during. Some minor knee pain. The big slow-me-down factor is my lungs; no surprise there. I wind up walking a short distance about once a mile.
My watch is off. It beeped a good 200 yards before the first mile marker and even I felt that was short. It consistently beeped 200 yards or so short, such that I was able to predict with startling accuracy that it would been the "tenth" mile mark just as I turned the final sharp left onto the 72nd street crossover for the finish. Don't know when the watch got off (remember, it gauged long at Houston), but that was damn frustrating - mostly because it's exciting to look down and see I'm holding an 8:30 pace (when I'm not walking/coughing my head off) and then realize that's more like a 9:15 pace in reality.
My coughing generated some notice today. One woman, as I passed by coughing, muttered something about "cover your mouth for gawdsake." I turned to her and very pleasantly explained "it's not catching, I have Cystic Fibrosis," etc. She appeared to understand and didn't say another word about it the entire race (we wound up playing tag like runners at similar pace often do). Two other runners, at different times, actually ran up behind me, put their hands on my shoulder, and asked if I was all right. I told them yes, even though inside I was crazy with, no i'm not all right i shouldn't out here i wasn't ready for this i hate having to walk because i'm short on oxygen... You get the picture.
Truth was, I was all right. I had no business taking on a 15K today, not with my lousy winter training. Winter training: F. Resolution to build a better base: F. Resolutions to join a gym, start weight training, find a running partner, begin speedwork: F, F, F, and F.
Today's 15K, blisters and dry heaves included: B+.
Not a bad run, really. A sub 11-minutes-per-mile pace (10:40 or so) and I even managed to conquer Cat Hill on the first loop. Beautiful weather; couldn't have asked for anything better; low stress in general.
digital PS to the ladies who choose to wear tights to run in. 1) If you wear a diaper, do not wear tights of any kind. Please. 2) If you're going to piss yourself in a too-long race, wear a diaper. 3) If you're going to wear non-running clothes, such as your standard white panties and standard blue every-day tights, you might want to check yourself in a mirror before running eight miles of a race, getting all sweaty, and bending straight over to re-tie your shoes. Not that I didn't enjoy the view, but I should like to help you protect your modesty.
Flashback: My alarm goes off at 6 a.m. I struggle with myself, hitting the snooze bar twice before laying there an additional fifteen minutes trying to decide whether I really want to go do this run or not. After all, I could just as easily catch three more hours of sleep, then go out about 11 or noon and have a nice six or eight-mile run; no subway trains needed.
But I paid seventeen dollars for this "privilege", my ego berates my id. Get up!
I finally get out of bed and put on water for to make a cup of my Magic Tea. I go about the pre-race routine in an orderly manner, a comfortable pace. For some reason, I've been constipated lately, and that drags out my morning. No problem, though. Plenty of time. By 7:10, I'm halfway through my Magic Tea and am idly checking email. Then I hear the announcer on NY1: The temperature is a muggy 44 degrees and the time is 8:10. You didn't forget to set your clock forward last night, did you CRIS? My eyes dart to the upper right corner of my computer screen. Sure enough, this dumb piece of machinery knows enough to put the clock forward, but I had completely missed any and all reminders about Daylight Savings Time and now find myself an hour late.
I leisurely finish my cup of tea.
On the train, I reflect that though I had initially bandied about the thought of doing the 15K, I would much rather run the 4-miler this morning, though I doubted I'd arrive at the park in time to do so, as the race would begin at 9 a.m. 10 days ago, I'd signed up for a bunch of NYRR races - my first ones for the year - and had realized at that time that I was probably not ready for a 15K. But I'd signed up for the 15K anyway, intending that if the next long run (of March 4) went well, I'd go the distance; but if it went badly, I'd just run the 4-miler.
The run had gone badly. In fact, 1/4 mile out, I'd aborted it. It wasn't any one thing; it was a compoundment of factors that made me say, this just isn't happening today. I've only had moments like that once or twice before. And I hadn't run in the ensuing work week, either, a I just began a new job, am in rehearsals for two dance concerts, and am embroiled in a battle with my computer for control over my massive library of photo documentation of my design work. (Praise be to Adobe Lightroom, I am now getting it under control, catalogued, and a large backlog of RAW files processed much easier than in Photoshop.)
I got to the park in time to hear the distant muted announcing for the 4-miler. The race was being run already. I made my way to the registration tent to pick up my bib. D-O-P-H-E-R, I said to the volunteer at the D,E,F box. She looks for my bib for awhile - too long a while. When did you register? she inquires. At that moment, my self-manufactured reality shatters and falls away, like a painted glass from a window frame, and I'm left looking at the true reality: I'd in fact forgotten to register for the race. That, as I registered online for a multiplicity of races, I'd purposely unchecked the box for this race, intending to come back and register for the race I thought I could run after my March 4th long run. And I'd never come back and registered.
Once again, I had an out: I could have just run a leisurely six miles and called it a day, not part of the race at all. But I'd come all this way, mentally gearing up for a run I really didn't want to do, and here I was at the registration tent. So I signed up. Then I noticed that not only had registration fees gone up, but LATE registration fees were also up. (All fees are up 25-50% over last year. Angry face.) To run this race today, I'd need $25. OR... $20 and a winning smile. I turned to one of the two staff members in charge of the tent, a woman I've gotten to know by volunteering at the Marathon Expo for two years. Theresa, I get her attention. I flash her a worried smile. I'm a little short...I've only got a twenty on me. We work something out that doesn't involve sexual favors, and I get a bib. God bless that woman. I am taken back to all those times one of my parents would say, "and what are you going to pay for that with? Your good looks?" Apparently, yes!
Now I have to run the race. From this point on, the race is standard, and course of it agonizingly predictable: the first mile is hell, the next two tough, I'm finally warmed up after mile four, really enjoy mile five, feel like it will never be over, then amazingly, the finish line is right there in front of me. Extremely minor shin splints BEFORE the race, none during. Some minor knee pain. The big slow-me-down factor is my lungs; no surprise there. I wind up walking a short distance about once a mile.
My watch is off. It beeped a good 200 yards before the first mile marker and even I felt that was short. It consistently beeped 200 yards or so short, such that I was able to predict with startling accuracy that it would been the "tenth" mile mark just as I turned the final sharp left onto the 72nd street crossover for the finish. Don't know when the watch got off (remember, it gauged long at Houston), but that was damn frustrating - mostly because it's exciting to look down and see I'm holding an 8:30 pace (when I'm not walking/coughing my head off) and then realize that's more like a 9:15 pace in reality.
My coughing generated some notice today. One woman, as I passed by coughing, muttered something about "cover your mouth for gawdsake." I turned to her and very pleasantly explained "it's not catching, I have Cystic Fibrosis," etc. She appeared to understand and didn't say another word about it the entire race (we wound up playing tag like runners at similar pace often do). Two other runners, at different times, actually ran up behind me, put their hands on my shoulder, and asked if I was all right. I told them yes, even though inside I was crazy with, no i'm not all right i shouldn't out here i wasn't ready for this i hate having to walk because i'm short on oxygen... You get the picture.
Truth was, I was all right. I had no business taking on a 15K today, not with my lousy winter training. Winter training: F. Resolution to build a better base: F. Resolutions to join a gym, start weight training, find a running partner, begin speedwork: F, F, F, and F.
Today's 15K, blisters and dry heaves included: B+.
Not a bad run, really. A sub 11-minutes-per-mile pace (10:40 or so) and I even managed to conquer Cat Hill on the first loop. Beautiful weather; couldn't have asked for anything better; low stress in general.
digital PS to the ladies who choose to wear tights to run in. 1) If you wear a diaper, do not wear tights of any kind. Please. 2) If you're going to piss yourself in a too-long race, wear a diaper. 3) If you're going to wear non-running clothes, such as your standard white panties and standard blue every-day tights, you might want to check yourself in a mirror before running eight miles of a race, getting all sweaty, and bending straight over to re-tie your shoes. Not that I didn't enjoy the view, but I should like to help you protect your modesty.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)