Manhattan Half Marathon

Saturday, January 28th, saw the advent of the Manhattan Half Marathon, the first in NYRR's Grand Prix series, in which you can run a half-marathon in every borough. It was a cool, clear, sunny morning and a good 4600 people showed up to run the first half-marathon of the year, including one nut running in a lighthouse outfit to promote a marathon in New Jersey. Usually, more than 6000 runners show up the Manhattan Half; attendance was low probably due to the incredibly early scheduling. (Isn't the Manhattan Half usually an August event?)

Many of our bloggers ran the half. Our BlogFather Derek left a brief post, it's brevity indicating his disappointment more than anything. By contrast, Dasmoo, of whom I know nothing, seems very happy with his new PR, though his post is equally as short. What is it with you guys? Details, people, details!

I volunteered to write this week's Rundown partly because I knew I'd be there myself. Got all responsible and took a lot of photos and posted my own personal report here. My race was not as good as Dasmoo's, nor even Derek's... well, life goes on. I did run into my neighbor (Boy-Who-Has-No-Blog) and was astounded to find out he ran the half in a 1:29. Very impressive. He's currently training up for Boston.

Chelle finally got off her lazy-posting butt to tell us about her race. Turns out, a good half marathon was just what she needed to shake the heavy feeling. (I mean, seriously, ten days between posts? Please post more!) She finished strong, fast, and feeling like the Flyer she is. And, of course, NYFlyGirl had an equally good race while not officially running it. She stuck to her plan. Even runner Getset, who hasn't run more than 6 miles since Christmas, managed a PR!

Before I go, I'd like to cast an eye further afield and give a shout out to Jon, who also PR'd in Houston. StSean also ran this race, the 3M Half Marathon and makes me wish I were a student again. Unfortunately, this race will be noteworthy for another reason: the course was marked improperly and the distance was off.

And that's about all I can find on half-marathons this time around. Lots of bloggers promising they'll be running various upcoming halfs and fulls. In the meantime, let's all look forward to the Brooklyn Half, huh? I know I am.

Phoning it in

Ah, the excitement of race morning! The vibrant colors, the sunshine, the mild weather, the muted comraderie among 3,487 runners... the walking lighthouses... (well, OK, there are 3,847 listed in the NYRR race results. I know for a fact, however, that at least four walkers came in after 3 hours, nine minutes...)



I'd signed up for the Manhattan Half Marathon right after Christmas. I was in the middle of fighting a lung infection and believed that the oral antibiotics would bring my lung functions back up to nominal and I'd be on training track and this would be a good long-run for the weekend. It was a bit of a surprise to everybody that the Manhattan Half, usually an August event, was being held all of a sudden in January, but there it was. In contrast to the six thousand who show up later in the year, we had a (paltry?) showing of four thousand for this, the beginning of the Grand Prix. (I am determined to run four of these this year, and will miss the fifth because I'll be running a marathon in Nashville two days later.)

I brought along my Motorola RAZR and took some pics along the way. Me, all chipper and cheary before the race:

Runners entering the park and walking to the start line. Baggage buses in back.

My friend Lou, otherwise known as the Bells Guy. Very recognizable, and he's actually started recognizing me, too. :)

The starting line and the announcer. We would pass this point three times total.


Anyway, I just want to say right off the top that I had good, but not unreasonable hopes, for this half-marathon. I knew I wouldn't be turning in anything but my slowest 13.1-mile performance to date, but had no idea how bad it would get. I knew I'd be straining to beat the three-hour time limit, but had no idea how frustrating and humiliating the reality would be.

Leaving the house, I got out early and happened to hit two express trains right off, so that I arrived an hour before the horn. Not a bad way to start a race. The weather was cool, but not cold, and it seemed clear to me that most of the people around me were not counting on a PR today. It's just too damn early in the season for a half-marathon!

Realized I'd forgotten my tunes. Huh. Well, that might be a lesson, in that every time I DO use my tunes, my runs end up uneven - and I've turned them off in the past in order to even out my pacing. So maybe having only my own thoughts to keep me company is the best way to go, I thought. I decided at the last minute that since this race would involve a lot of walking for me, and I wasn't worrying about a real time, that I'd use the water stations and not take my bottle of HEED with me.

Now, as I'm still battling that lung infection (and it seems to be getting worse, unfortunately), I decided to cheat. I mean, I really, REALLY shouldn't have even gone to the race, and I knew this. So I pulled every dirty trick I had in order to ensure I could at least breathe well: I took albuterol when I got up, along with ibuprofen, had a cup of regular coffee on the train in to Manhattan. 30 minutes before the start of the race, I took Primatene tablets (ephedrine and glu-something) and pocketed a Primatene inhaler (epinephrine). I thought I'd be all set to slowly toil out a 2:45 or 2:50 half.

Oh boy was I ever wrong!

First, the primatene tabs didn't have nearly the punch they had the last time I took them, two years ago. I guess you don't get passages opening up if they're already filled with gunk. But I did at least FEEL good. Not quite as good when running on Dayquil, but I wasn't willing to take them if I didn't have a cold.

The starting lineup...from the rear POV.


Yes, the lighthouse did jog the race. And yes, I was beaten by a f***ing jogging lighthouse!


The first half of the race was OK and conformed to my expectations. I ran continuously the first mile and half. Not fast, but steadily, except for the upper half of the harlem hills. (I managed to jog past the overhanging rock, so I feel I hit a certain minimum there). After that, breathing got difficult again and I slipped into a pattern of walking up inclines, and jogging the downs and flats, which meant I'd run a quarter mile or so, walk a quarter mile, back and forth.

The first few time splits didn't make sense, but the splits for six and seven told the story: I was on track, if I could push it a bit more, to come in under three hours. That would be nice.


Breathing continued to worsen little by little. I took the Primatene mist at mile six or seven... didn't seem to help much. I'm now out of answers to the essential problem. :(

And then the cramps started. Mile 9, I tried to pick it up to a jog again and slammed with cramps in the calves, coming on like spasms and not quitting until I slowed to a fast walk again. After a half dozen tries at this, I decided I'd finish the last 3.1 miles (I was now at about marker 10) walking. I tried to keep up a steady, consistent pace, but noted with sadness that even those who ONLY walk races were slowly passing me by and that I saw no more mile markers after 10, though I did manage to snag cups of water just barely before the tables were dismantled. (I want to express my gratitude to all the kids NYRR hires to man these stations - they're out there for far longer than the runners and don't have the advantage of exercise to keep them warm!)



Moving up Cat Hill and passing where the starting line had been at 81st street felt great. The last mile passed swiftly, though with everybody else around me being recreational joggers - no more racing people could be seen - it was pretty lonely. I did the last third of a mile with a guy who caught up from behind. We crossed the finish line together and that - if this isn't grasping at straws - just about felt like the best part of the race; that I didn't have to cross that line alone. Astonishingly, the finish line was still up and the mats beeped as I stepped across. Still, the time didn't get recorded and I'm not officially listed among the finishers. Nor is my erstwhile companion or the two people who came in after us. (I have sent an email to make sure I at least get the credit for having done the race!)

Cleopatra's Needle, outside the Met, about 84th street or so. Yes, we clever Americans stole this from Egypt. No, they don't seem to want it back.


Cones have a thee-hour expiration date:


So does the finishing chute:


I finally make it to the end - and I'm surprised it's still there!

So.

The lung issues are continuing to be frustrating. I don't know when - or even if - this will ever get resolved satisfactorily to where I can at least slowly jog a continuous 5K. The thought that I may never breathe well again scares me, particularly since this isn't only a problem when running! (I'm winded at the top of stairs, am having asthma attacks resting at home, etc.)

The legs, I guess, are becoming de-trained and that's what caused the cramps. OR perhaps the unfamiliar drugs in my system did that. Or just a lack of potassium (haven't been eating my banana-a-day lately).

I'm a lot Disappointed right now, and just about as much Confused. I feel like I'm losing control over my body. The only clear thing after this race is that Nashville is now in jeopardy. If things don't turn around by the Brooklyn Half, I will have to run (or walk) only the half-marathon in Nashville.

My legs were pretty sore and stiff today. I imagine I'm not the only one suffering though. I heard one guy getting ready to drive home tell his buddy that this was the first time he'd run in four months

Mailing it in

For the last ten days, I haven't run. I decided weekend before last
that if I'm to have any chance at beating this lung infection and
healing up and getting on with my training schedule, then my body
needs rest, just like anybody else battling an infection. It wasn't
really that hard to skip the runs, as I've been working a lot and the
last runs that were so difficult and disappointing was making me feel
pretty negative about the whole thing.

But this morning, I got out for a short run. Very short. I took a
package to the post office and then continued jogging VERY SLOWLY to
the one-mile mark, then turned around, stopped at the post office
again for 2-cent stamps, and returned home. For a lousy two miles,
the run took entirely too long. However, I only had to walk three
times, and only for a very short distance. In fact, it wasn't so
much my lungs I was worrying about as my knees. Nearly two weeks of
non-running doesn't seem to have been good for them at all.

It's funny, not only did I go to the post office - twice - but I also
passed four mailboxes I'd never noticed before. For some reason,
their blue was really standing out this morning.

Have you heard the phrase "phoning it in" to describe a half-assed
job? That's what I felt like this morning, knowing that I didn't
exactly give it my all - or that maybe I had and this is what I'm
reduced to. It wasn't a bad run, just not even close to good. And
unless a miracle happens between now and Saturday morning, I'm afraid
the Manhattan Half will be a real test of my willpower. I believe
this will be my slowest half yet and most probably I'll be straining
just to beat the time limit.

Of course, this brings up an interesting question: am I fucking
STUPID? Fail to run well or at all for three weeks and then go
tackle 13 miles?? Then again, you could say that if I did a little
over two hours for twelve miles three weeks ago, I should still be
physically able to do this. Besides, no matter how long it takes,
I'll get a qualifier done for NY Marathon 2007 and I'll be able to
get a good guage of my lungs and legs for the next round of doctor
visits.

And so, in honor of the mailed-it-in effort this morning...I am, in
fact, emailing this post in.

GTCA More on diabetes GTCA

NY Times ran this article, describing the discovery of a gene that skews you towards diabetes.

If people knew of their extra risk, they would have an incentive to stay thin and exercise, [Steffansen] said. Uh, you haven't been reading the other recent NY Times articles, have you, Mr. Steffansen?

Gattica, anyone?

dog racing

It is like a cruel dog race with only two greyhounds: my legs and my lungs. And the bets aren't on the winner, but the loser: which one will give out first? Will it be the legs with the cramps and shin splints, or maybe a return of the runner's knee? Or will it be the lungs, closing up slowly but surely? I can put the lungs at almost even odds, these days, but the longshot legs did win one heat today.

My schedule said 14 miles. This was doable, I thought. I'd done 12 last week, how bad could 14 be? Well, lemme tell ya. It can be bad. Unlike last week, my lungs did not cooperate. My legs did not cooperate. Like Beast, my form was off and the run was a struggle. It should have been a good run; it was sunny and not too cold (no worse than what winter's supposed to be). The wind was pretty gruesome. It blew in high gear much of the time; a trade-off for waiting until the sun came out, I suppose. The windchill when I ran was supposedly 14 degrees, but in my three layers of shirts, two layers of pants, and regular hat-and-gloves routine, I was quite comfortable. I didn't get chilled until I was slowed to a walk.

And that's the essential problem. The walking. It isn't training my LEGS to do anything! But my LUNGS are no better than they were a couple of weeks ago, despite my adherance to drug therapies, physical therapies, and (mostly) to my running schedule. I am bringing up more junk than ever and it has me concerned. I'll give the Bactrim a chance, I guess, before I start to get really worried. Fact is, when my lungs do cooperate, my legs are more than up to the challenge of a half-marathon right now. But how much longer will that last??

I cut the run short. In the middle of the first loop of the park, I knew I wouldn't be able to finish the run, no matter how badly I wanted it. I simply couldn't breathe, couldn't jog more than a 1/4 mile at a time, even walking fast was leaving me breathless. Coughing frequently had me bent over, hands-on-knees. WARNING: NEXT PARAGRAPH NOT PRETTY

<gross> At one point, I sniffed hard, snorted, and hocked out. I looked down and the snot had bright red blood in it! Up to that point, I hadn't realized my nose was bleeding from the exertion of the last coughing fit. Here I am leaving green, white, and red all over the park; Italy would be proud. Just before my shower, later, I looked in the mirror and was shocked. Like some sick Japanese porn, my face was flecked in dried blood, spit, and sputum streaks. I simply couldn't feel them happen in the cold! </gross>

I did half the run; 6.7 miles, probably 4 of that walking. Still, I'm not as short on mileage this week as the last couple weeks of December, so that might indicate improvement.