The Foot, The Frees

As much as I've chastised the Frees in the past, they seem to be helping me through whatever strange injury this is. I started running on the cinder track in the Frees for a soft surface. I made a run in the frees on the concrete and was successful. Then I went out in the Lunars on the track, followed by a run on grass, concrete, and asphalt. I've been icing the foot on and off as well. I seem to be making some progress. Thus far, I've only been able to get up to around 5 miles, but I'm slowly increasing the distance.

Tonight I'm going to try a mixed run of the cinder track and road running in the lunars to see how the foot responds.

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I'm starting to plan out my '09 racing schedule, which once I get a better grip on, I will share.

The dreaded treadmill

I hate the treadmill, but after reading on the internet that running on a treadmill in the Nike Frees seems to help people with plantar faciitis, I decided to give it a go. I'm pretty certain I don't have PF, but figured it could hurt me to try it.

I ran for 20 minutes increasing the speed each minute ending at somewhere around 6:45 pace. Then I stretched really good and jumped back on the treadmill. Another 20 minutes with increasing speed. I finished that one at around 6:30 pace. Stretched once again and went for a final 20 minutes. I ended the final 20 at a 6:03 pace. I felt pretty good and my foot didn't really hurt at all. I felt it a little bit afterwards, but not nearly as much as I have in the past. I'm taking today off and then I'm going to go for an easy Christmas Day run. I'm going to try to run in the Frees outside and see how it feels. If I can get in a few pain-free runs in the Frees then I will try and go back to a regular trainer and see what happens.

Breakthrough

After work, I sludged through the snow to the gym and worked back and biceps until it was time to hit the pool.

I swam for 30 minutes as usual, but I had a breakthrough today. I don't know what I changed, but I was actually able to slow down my freestyle swim stroke enough that I wasn't gasping for air after a length. Every attempt prior resulted in me sinking when I slowed down. Now I just need to continue swimming and build up some endurance, clean up my stroke, and then try to add the speed back in. I'm hopefully hitting the pool again tomorrow.

Once I got home, I went out for a 50 minute run through the snow. It was very peaceful when I got to McCarren Park, as there was no one else out there. I ran a mile on the track just b/c I could run through fresh snow and I was the only one running. On the way back, my foot started hurting again. This time it was my left foot. My right felt completely fine. Now that I'm home, my left feels fine and my right is giving me issues. This is really frustrating.

Targets on our backs

we've been called out by the RD of the Texas Independence Relay.

My team this year will be faster than last year's. I think we win the entire thing rather handily. They have no idea what we have in store for march. Our team average pace should be in the low 6 min/mile.

Favorable Friday

I was pretty productive today.

I hit the gym and did chest and shoulders followed by a 30 minute swim and then 20 minutes on the stationary bike.

My foot is feeling much better, but I still don't want to risk it, so I will probably wait till sunday to get back out and try to run on it. Easing back in slowly is my best bet.

No Pain

I decided to give running another try tonight. I pulled out a pair of trail shoes to provide a little more "support" to see what happens. I stayed away from hills and ran at a pretty easy pace. I also stretched pre- and post-run. I made it through a little over 3 miles pain-free. However, monday night's run was pain-free as well, it just hurt really bad all day tuesday. I guess I'll find out in the morning.

Getting back in the groove...hopefully

I ran a couple times last week, but I still felt lazy because I haven't been consistent with my workouts.

Tonight I hit the gym and did a quick lifting session before going to the pool and swimming for 30 minutes. Afterwards I came home and went out for a 4.5 mile run. Hopefully this is getting me back on track. My body feels recovered after once again putting it through hell this fall.

Next Attempt at Boston

May 17, 2009.

I hit a HUGE PR at the Poconos course last year, so I'm going to head back and try again. They finally set the date for the 2009 race, and I'm giving it another go. I feel very confident I can throw down a sub-3:10 on this course.

Ironman Arizona

Its official. I submitted my registration today.

On Nov 22, 2009 I will swim 2.4 miles, bike 112 miles, and then run a full marathon. Time to make my swim more efficient.

Top 10 Finish at Knickerbocker 60K

After a disappointing performance in Chicago and a decision to shut it down in NYC, I finally had a race come together. Saturday I placed 7th overall in the Knickerbocker 60K.

Race Report

I got up at 6:00 am, gathered my things and went out the door into a dark, wet morning. Rain was slowly falling from the sky as I jogged to the subway. As I felt my heart pounding from the easy jog, I started worrying about the lack of proper preparation I'd done in the days preceding the race. And was that my foot hurting or was I just being paranoid?

When I got to the subway, I ate a banana and a PowerBar. I caught both trains as they were arriving, and then made my way over to the NYRR office to pick up my race packet. There was still a little over an hour before the race was to begin, so I took my time getting ready and attaching my race number. I chatted with Claude for a bit as he gave me some statistics about how many people had signed up and how many had showed thus far for packet pick-up. I then spotted Dave and Gwen, so I joined them as we chatted about the past couple year's races and about the weather forecast. Around 10 a.m. thunderstorms were supposed to roll in and pound NYC for several hours. Not the ideal conditions, but I'd run in them before. And secretly the inclement conditions were exciting to me. Ramon came in shortly thereafter and we all calmly chatted until about fifteen minutes prior to the start.

We walked over to the starting area joking about already being too tired to run. I found a place just past the water tables to place my drop bag so that I could easily access it. Then I joined Dave and Ramon near the front of the starting pack. As usual, there was a short, very informal speech prior to the race and then start of the race. My plan was to try and run a 5:30, so I didn't want to go out too fast. I knew I needed to average 9:00/mile, but I knew I'd start out faster and then slow as the race proceeded. What I didn't expect was to go out at a pace I thought felt easy, and then find myself in the top five or six runners. As I cruised along the 1.46 out-and-back section, I knew I was going to fast and tried to slow my pace as I watched Ramon distance himself from me. I came back through the starting area still cruising along to cheers from the small crowd. It was nice to hear people calling me out by name.

As I progressed down to 72nd Street I tried to slow my pace a little even though I knew I was probably still running too fast. I kept expecting to get passed, but no one was going by me. I cruised down Cat Hill and made the turn onto 72nd. I turned onto the west side of the park and still no one passed me. I knew I was still running sub-8:00 miles, but how no one was passing me was confounding. I came up on the west side aid station and was blown away by the number of people there. The past two years there were two volunteers there. There were probably 30 volunteers out there cheering on the runners. I grabbed a cup of gatorade and blew through the aid station. Through the rolling hills up to the 102nd transverse I kept looking over my shoulder for people passing me, but I saw none. Volunteers were directing runners at each corner of the transverse, which were new this year. Once I made my way back onto the east side, I noticed how warm it was. I was sweating quite a bit. Another 3/4 of a mile found me back at the start area. Loop 1 was complete.

I heard the lap counters yell out my number and almost immediately call out number 12. I decided to skip my drop bag and just grab some water. Shortly after the water tables, runner number 12 passed me. That was what I needed to calm my delusions of grandeur. The deluge of fast runners were now going to pass me and I'd fall into my normal pace for the remainder of the race. I slowed my pace slightly and kept a smooth gait, but as I progressed through the loop no other runners came by. When I arrived at the west side aid station, I saw a couple of familiar faces. Two of the girls from Run Club were volunteering at that aid station and cheered me on. I once again just grabbed a cup and cruised through. As I came back around to the east side, I continued my smooth stride and picked it up slightly when I came back to the starting area to a multitude of cheers. Two loops and about 9.5 miles down, still only one runner had passed me.

I decided to make the stop at my drop back since I was already close to 10 miles. I took a quick sip of Muscle Fuel and grabbed a quick handful of beef jerky. As I ran I ate the jerky. About a 1/4 mile before Cat Hill, I ran by and said hi to Angela (one of our Nike Pacers) who was out pacing a different running group that was training in the park. After I came down Cat Hill and turned onto the 72nd St transverse, I saw Betty Eng, who immediately joined up with me and asked how I was doing. I told her I was feeling pretty good but that I thought I was running too fast. I told her I thought I was in 8th place and if I was in the top 10, I was definitely going too fast. Betty told me what was going on with Run Club that morning and ran with me through the west side aid station. I ran through the rest of the second loop and finished strong, once again heading to my drop bag. I took a couple ibuprofen and started my fourth loop.

I ran through the flat section at the beginning of the loop and wound around a couple turns to see a smiling face greeting me. Tiffany would be joining me for the next hour and a half. Tiffany asked me how I was feeling as we made our way toward Cat Hill. I said I was feeling good and she told me I was looking pretty strong. I told her that I was pretty sure I was in 8th place overall. Drops began to fall from the sky and by the time we were making our turn onto 72nd Street, the skies opened up. My eyes stung as the water washed sweat into my eyes. I had a hat in my drop bag, but I was still over two miles from the start area. Tiffany offered to go back and get my hat, but I declined. I continued running as my shoes and the streets filled with water.

As we rounded the corner and turned onto the west side, the rain continued to pummel us. Tiffany kept on talking, telling me stories. She asked me if she was annoying me, but I told her it was fine. I was enjoying the company. When we came through the aid station, Tiffany split off and ran around the outside. I grabbed some gatorade and drank it quickly as I ran through the aid station. I saw a couple familiar faces of Run Club regulars volunteering at the race who cheered me on. I met back up with Tiffany on the far side and we cruised through the downhill past the reservoir. Tiffany continued to encourage me saying I looked stronger than any of the other runners she had seen on the course. I was pretty sure she was just trying to make me remain positive, but I appreciated the boost of confidence. Rain was still falling as we came up the hill toward the start/finish area. I came through strong to the applause of the spectators and volunteers. Immediately going to my drop bag, I grabbed my hat, took a sip of muscle fuel, and ran back out to meet back up with Tiffany for the start of lap 5.

I'd done just over 17 miles and I was still feeling strong even though I was soaked thoroughly. We cruised through the flat section and charged down Cat Hill. As we made our way over to the west side, Tiffany told me the story of her favorite tree and how it became her favorite because of a class project she did when she was younger. I had no idea which tree she was talking about, so she started scanning the area for a leaf to show me. A short time later, she showed me the yellow leaf and I realized I'd seen the trees everywhere. The rain subsided and I started feeling like I was overheating, so I took my hat off and continued my assault on the course. I kept telling Tiffany that I was expecting people to start passing me at any time, but no one ever did. When we turned back onto the east side heading south, I told Tiffany that I couldn't wait to take a big sip of the Mountain Dew I had waiting in my bag. She looked at me like I was crazy, but I explained that the sugar and the caffeine had propelled me through several long races and rides.

I once again came through the start/finish area strong knowing I was over 20 miles into the race. As we neared the Met, I spotted another familiar face. Bev joined us and told me she would run with me until Paul came out to relieve her later. The rain had ended, but the wind was still blowing. Tiffany and Bev ran out in front of me trying to do their best to let me draft off of them. As we came down Cat Hill, I had to tell them to speed up as I was right on their heels. I didn't really want them to pace me, I just wanted the company. The previous two years I had done the race completely solo and listened to music the entire race. This year, I dropped the headphones and opted for friends.

Every time I would encounter a hill, Bev would jump out front and tell me that there was a harness linking her back and my chest and that she was pulling me up the hill with it. Initially, I blew it off, but later in the race I zeroed in only staring at her back and imagined the harness. It really did help. The three of us continued to run through the sixth loop. Bev tried to offer me gels, granola bars, and water, but I wanted to stick with the things I had brought in order to not mess with my system. Still no one had caught up to me. Finishing up the sixth loop, Bev continued to remind me to cut the tangents in order to run the shortest course. I looked up at the clock when I came through the finish area noting that I was just short of the marathon distance and was not too far off my NYC Marathon time from two weeks before. A little more than 11 more miles to go.

At this point, I was walking my water stops while trying to refuel. I popped a couple ibuprofen with some Mountain Dew and caught back up to Bev and Tiffany. Bev told me that Paul should be waiting on the corner of the 72nd Street transverse. Once again, I had to make the girls speed up so I could cruise down Cat Hill. When we got to 72nd Street, there was no Paul. Bev told me she would run another lap with me. At the corner, Tiffany announced her time running was up. She bid me good luck and I gave her a quick hug and thanked her for running with me. Now it was just Bev and I. She told me stories of her cousin playing college hockey, while continuing to encourage me.

I was starting to feel fatigued, so once again Bev offered up a GU she had. I once again declined telling her that I had one I was going to take at the aid station on the west side. I took my powergel just before the aid station and grabbed some water. I saw another familiar face this time. Ronit was there cheering. She might have been there the lap before, I can't really recall. Her and Bev jogged ahead as I quickly walked through the aid station to the cheers of the volunteers, apparently giving what was later described as "death stares" to people. It wasn't on purpose. It was more that I was getting fatigued and knew I still had quite a few miles to go. I ran out of the far side of the aid station and caught up to Bev and Ro. When I met up with them, Ro turned around and headed back to the aid station.

We ran downhill and as we started back up, Bev made me imagine the harness and she "pulled" me up the hill. After the crest, we began the descent toward 102nd street. Shortly after, I heard a man on a bike come up from behind and announce the men's leader was coming through. Great. I was being lapped. I turned and saw Ramon smoothly running toward me. We exchanged a few words, shook hands, and then he was off. I yelled at him to keep strong and crush the last lap. I watched him put distance between us as Bev and I turned onto 102nd Street. Just as I was turning back onto the east side, the 2nd place men's runner cruised by me. Bev and I looked at each other and agreed that it looked like the guy had just started running. He looked really fresh. Ramon was going to have to really push it to stay in the lead.

Bev once again encouraged me to cut the tangents and ran out in front of me going up the final hill on loop 7. Making the last slight turn on the loop and catching sight of the start/finish area always gave me a little boost of energy. This time was no exception. Bev handed me a couple of Endurolytes, I picked up the pace, and came across the mat feeling energized. I once again stopped at my bag to drink a little Mountain Dew. I exited the area and shortly after saw Dave walking with Gwen. He wasn't looking very good. I gave him a few words of encouragement as I ran by him. I did take a little satisfaction knowing I lapped another person, even though I felt bad for him. He yelled back that he wasn't feeling that great, but he was going to finish regardless. That's exactly what I hoped to hear him say.

I was really started to feel the fatigue come back as I put the start/finish area behind me. Bev was sure that Paul would be standing at the 72nd Street transverse, but after I sped through Cat Hill, once again Paul was not there. I told Bev she didn't have to run with me, but she refused to leave me alone. Bev continued talking with every stride. She had run much more than she originally planned. I was glad for the company though. As we neared the west side aid station, I felt like I was going to bonk. I told Bev that I'd take her GU Roctane. I told her I didn't want to do it because I'd never used it before, but I knew I needed something. I also knew if I waited 2 miles to get back to my bag, I'd likely bonk hard on the last lap. I took the GU and then walked quickly through the aid station drinking some gatorade to add more calories to my system. Once again Ro ran with Bev while I was in the aid station. When I caught up to them, Bev asked if it would be ok for Ro to run the last loop with me. I said that was fine. Ro peeled off to go over to the starting area and Bev and I started downhill.

As I cruised downhill, I warned Bev that I might need to take a really quick walk break at the bottom of the hill. When we go to the bottom, I told her that I refused to walk on a flat section and pointed out a short section on the uphill and said I was going to walk the 20 yards or so. I stopped and walked. Just as I was restarting my run, Tim caught up to us. I said, "great, the first time I stop after over 30 miles of running and you show up." We all laughed and continued up the hill before starting downhill toward 102nd Street. Tim peeled off and I noticed a CPTC runner not too far in front of me. I recognized him from the beginning of the race and knew he was in front of me. I mentioned this to Bev, but I also said that I was running my own race. He was slowing and I would catch him. There was no reason to speed up. Shortly after, I passed him putting me in what I believed to be 7th place. I couldn't believe I was still in the top 10. With a little boost of energy from moving up a place, I cruised down the hill to the 102nd Street Transverse where I saw Coach Cane waiting.

Cane took a couple pictures of me running to post on his blog since I was running in his City Coach singlet. Cane filled Bev and I in on a couple other people running as he joined us. I was surprised to see him running since he was coming back off a string of injuries that had him sidelined for months. Along the 102 Street transverse I started feeling my calf seize up. I was trying my best to not let it cramp, but there was no stopping it. I jog/limped over to a lamp post and stretched it out as Bev tried to massage my calf. The cramping went away and we continued onto the east side and up the hill toward the start/finish area. Cutting the tangents, I made my way up the hill and caught sight of the finish. Bev gave me the last 3 Endurolytes to try and stave off the cramping for the last lap. I made one last stop at my bag and drank more Mountain Dew and some Gatorade. I yelled at myself as I exited the start/finish, "one more lap. four more miles. lets do it." I grunted and ran the flat straightaway to catch back up to Bev and Coach Cane.

Cane tried to block the persistent wind as Bev once again talked about Paul being at 72nd Street. I "charged" down Cat Hill one last time and felt the calf cramps returning. Once again there was no Paul at the corner. Ro was waiting to run the last 3/4 of the race with me. My calf was knotting up, so I stopped and stretched it out again with Bev massaging the muscle. Once I got it under control, I bid farewell to Bev and continued running with Cane and Ro running about 10 feet out in front of me.

With Bev gone, it became silent. I was happy to have to company, but Bev's constant talking helped distract me from the pain and fatigue I was feeling. I had to take another short walking break on the first uphill on the west side. Of course as soon as I started walking, I saw a duo of girls I knew from Run Club. I grunted and started running again. Cane and Ro glanced back to see that I had started again and sped up again. Cane said a couple words of encouragement as I continued my slow trudge up hill. I was happy to see the west side aid station for the last time. I walked while I took a quick drink of water and then forced myself to start running again. The first few steps getting restarted are more painful than running. Its really hard to get restarted once you stop.

I ran down the hill after the aid station and caught back up to Cane and Ro. I went through the flat section and then started up the hill. I could feel my body slowing down. I was going to walk. There was no stopping it. Sometimes your body will make you walk no matter how much you want to keep running. I warned Cane that I was about to start walking and by the time he looked back, I'd already broken my stride. I only allowed myself to walk about 20 feet before I got myself to restart. I went up the hill and then started the descent to 102nd Street. Just then, I got passed. I knew it was coming, but mentally it was initially demoralizing. Cane warned me, "Run your own race. Don't worry about it." I realized I was still potentially in 8th place and shook it off. Only minutes later, toward the bottom of the hill I heard a guy on a bike announce that the women's leader was approaching.

I looked back and saw the bike, but no runner. I made the turn onto 102nd and shortly after the women's leader passed. Once again, I was demoralized. But once again, Cane wasn't going to let me get down. He immediately said, "stay with her." I replied, "I can't. I'm done." To which Cane simply responded, "stay with her." I picked up my pace slightly and shadowed the women's leader thinking there was no way I was going to be able to stay with her for well over a mile. Soon after she stopped to walk and I overtook her. In front of her and back into what I believed was 8th place, I felt rejuvenated. At least as rejuvenated as one can be after running about 36 miles. I turned onto the east side and spotted the guy who had passed me about a 1/2 mile back. I was going to catch him. Just before the base of the final hill, Bev rejoined the entourage and ran well out in front of me. I cut the tangents and could feel myself reeling the guy in as he followed the contour of the road. I was going to regain that 7th place finish. Bev was yelling words of encouragement as Cane and Ro fell off behind me.

When I hit the top of the final hill, my world started to turn inside out. I suddenly felt a strange type of dizziness. I was having a very difficult time running in a straight line, and it took all the control I had not to start stumbling. I could see the finish line a couple hundred meters ahead, but I couldn't compose myself to finish strong. Bev was telling me to catch the guy in front of me. I told her that I was falling apart. I was afraid I was going to pass out less than an 1/8th of a mile form the finish. I concentrated as hard as I could and finally pulled it together with about 100 meters to go. I still didn't feel right, but I was able to pick up the pace and finish the race. I finished about 10 seconds behind the guy I was trying to catch, but I was still happy with an 8th place finish. I looked at my watch and saw that I'd clocked a 5:22:16. Almost 8 minutes faster than my goal, and 34 minutes faster than the previous year.

Coach Cane, Bev, Ro, Claude, Ramon, and several others congratulated me on a strong finish. I finished off my mountain dew and ate a little. Once I stopped running, I felt normal again. I'd literally run my tank to empty and somehow coasted to the finish. After a little while of watching runners come in, I checked with the time keepers and realized I'd actually come in 7th place! I had originally miscounted the people in front of me, so I was actually running one place better the entire race. It was my best finish in a race to date. I was extremely happy.

My splits:

5:22:16

1: 10:54 10:54 (out-and-back)

2: 29:49 40:43

3: 30:12 1:10:54

4: 31:57 1:42:50

5: 31:55 2:14:44

6: 34:13 2:48:57

7: 36:24 3:25:20

8: 38:20 4:03:39

9: 39:57 4:43:36

10: 38:40 5:22:16

I couldn't have done it without the help from friends. Coach Cane told me that I was the one that did the work, they were just there for company. I agree to an extent, but I don't think I would have done as well if I would have been running solo. I still think I could have PRed and done well, but I don't know that I would have done as well as I did.

I'd like to say thanks to the volunteers and everyone who came out and cheered. I'd like to extend a HUGE thank you to the following people:

Betty Eng - thanks for running with me, even if it was for a short time. Seeing a familiar face during a race always gives me a little lift.

Tiffany - thanks for running with me through the rain. thanks for talking to me and keeping me distracted. thanks for teaching me about your favorite tree. and thanks for those training runs pre-chicago.

Ro - thanks for being there cheering for a couple laps and then leading me through that last brutally painful lap. And thanks for the celebratory drinks.

Coach Cane - thanks for taking me through that last lap. but most of all, thanks for making me chase after the lead girl. if I had been alone, I would have let myself get down and I doubt I would have gotten by her and gotten the boost to finish as I did.

Bev - thank you most of all. you ran more than you needed to. you ran more than you agreed to. you talked my head off, which was greatly appreciated. you continued to encourage me even when I was really started to feel fatigued. And yes, that invisible harness pulled me up several hills. Thank you.

Fall

Ross, Shaun, and I made it back up to New Paltz today to do a little rock climbing. We didn't get to climb as much as last time due to less daylight and a little delay in leaving the city, but it was a nice crisp fall day. We climbed more single-pitch stuff, but they were longer routes than the last time we went up there.

I got back into town and banged out 13 miles winding through brooklyn and over the williamsburg and manhattan bridges. I'm having some pain in my foot that I'm hoping subsides before the 60K on saturday.

NYC Marathon Statistics

I can't take credit for this at all, as I did not compile these statistics, but I find them quite intriguing.

- 2 people required 10+ hours to finish, and another 6 required 9-10 hours.
- 2.58% finished in sub-3:00
- 12.24% finished in sub-3:30
- 34.78% finished in sub-4:00
- 58.75% finished in sub-4:30
- 79.05% finished in sub-5:00
- 94.73% finished in sub-6:00
- 98.96% finished in sub-7:00

Average finishing time: 04:25:23.71

7 more miles, 1 less day

I did another 7 miles today. I took it nice and slow. Its windy, cold, and rainy, but the run felt good. I'm having an issue with my right Vomero though. Its giving me what feels like a bruise on my right foot. I compared it to an old pair and they don't look or feel any different even with the insole out. I was going to run the Knickerbocker in this new pair, but I don't think I'm going to be able to. I might have to ditch these and grab a new pair.

9 miler and a stint at the gym

I had a great 9 miler tonight. It was one of those runs where I had to consciously make myself slow down. I don't need to be running hard, but tonight's run was effortless. I did a decent job of staying slow, but still averaged well under 8 minute miles.

Before the run, I did a quick bicep workout. Normally, I'd pair that with back, but I'm a little sore from rock climbing in the Gunks yesterday. The weather was perfect for climbing and we are planning a return trip in 2 weeks if everything holds out.

LOTS of marathon stuff going on this week. I will be quite busy after tomorrow. 5 days until my first NYC Marathon!

MCM post on Inside Nike Running

I threw together this post for the Marine Corps Marathon.

I haven't been running much lately, but I need to get in some mileage. Only 8 days from the NYC Marathon.

Long Run

after taking most of the week off, I got out and did a 20 miler today. Its probably too soon for that kind of mileage, but I got out and felt good so I kept going. I needed it. I probably should have stopped at 18, when my legs started feeling completely dead, but I went ahead and jogged back home.

I need to get my Chicago Race report done.

Post-Chicago

I will do an official race report, but a little now for now.

I've been avoiding making phone calls to many because, as most of you probably already know, I'm quite disappointed with the result of sunday's race. The weather was a little warm and I fell apart at mile 19. Just a couple miles before I was feeling phenomenal and thought I was going to blow away my goal. Stomach issues and the heat ended my attempt just after mile 19.

Time: 03:22:48
Overall place: 1476
Top 7%

Lazy marathon eve

I went for a 20 minute run this morning with Derek and Lauren that we capped off with a few striders. All that's left is hydrating and eating. I'm doing very little else.

The weather is a little warmer than I was hoping for but its not too terrible. Tomorrow is the big day.

Waiting for pasta

I made it in to chicago ok after a delay at newark. I'm sitting at the bar waiting on a large bowl of pasta to arrive. Derek and I ran for about half an hour along the lakefront a little while ago.

I got seriously hooked up with apparel today. I ended up with a full-zip sweatshirt, two pair of shorts, 4 marathon-related tshirts, and one long sleeve technical shirt.

Departure

I'm currently sitting on a NJ transit train on the way to newark airport. My flight leaves at 9 a.m. for Chicago. Last night I had a little freak out, not feeling prepared at all for this race. I left at about 11 p.m. for a slow, easy 6 miler. While running I envisioned the course, reminded myself that I 'accidentally' ran a 3:15 in may, and only thought of my good runs. I came back feeling much better about the race.

Nike Blog - Chicago Marathon

Read it here.

Kevin and I collaborated. Stay tuned for one on the Marine Corps Marathon as well.

oh, and last night I did a little over 3 miles.

Nice fall night

Fall found its way to NYC sometime while I was in Texas. It hasn't been warm since I've been back. It feels like football weather. It feels like running weather. I got a late start tonight, but still managed to get in about 3.5 miles. The cold night felt amazing. If I wasn't tapering for the marathon this weekend, I probably would have stayed out for a couple hours. Six short days left...

Chicago Runner Tracking

If you want to track my progress in Chicago, here's the link:

http://www.doitsports.com/results/MSG-signup.tcl?sub_event_id=2161

my goal is to qualify for Boston, so I need to run a 3:10:59 or faster. You can track my progress via email or text message on Sunday if you are interested.

Last 10

sunday morning was my last 10 miler. now its just a few 5-6 mile runs and then race day. The last 10 went really good. We ran at a modest pace down to the Runners' Station, but then stopped talking and picked up the pace for the second 5 miles. Coming back down 57th street, I felt like I was effortlessly gliding.

All the work is done, all I can do is go run as best I can on sunday...

Bloody toe, last track workout

Clipped a toenail too close, now its a bloody mess.

Just finished my last track workout. Fairly easy pace. 3 X 1000, 400m recovery. I was shooting for 10K pace. I was a little fast on the first two and came in right on target for the last.

4:02
4:03
4:11

none of them were hard. I actually had to consciously slow myself down to keep pace. Tapering is great, but its not always easy. Ross met me at the track and did the workout with me. If it felt easy to me, it had to have been REALLY easy for him.

I took yesterday off, ran an easy 4.3 on Monday. I'm hoping to mix in a swim on friday.

Last long run

16.5ish miles today. Today was the last "long" run before chicago. Down from 22 last week, but still considered long. We left from NIKETOWN and ran over to the west side highway and up to the GW Bridge where we turned around and a simple out-and-back. The run actually felt pretty good for me. It was humid, foggy, and wet. We even got some rain on the last couple miles of the run. The taper is now in full-swing.

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in unrelated news, the Marathon World Record was broken again today. Gebrselassie broke his own record and was the first to ever dip under the 2:04 mark. Ridiculously fast.

Simulating Race Day

i can't take credit for finding it, but it was a nice find nonetheless...thanks Ross.

Catching up

Its been awhile, but I've been in and out of town. I had a couple decent runs in Texas and one horrible long run. The heat, hills, and my allergies combined to make my 22 mile run on monday pretty brutal.

I took tuesday off and then hit the track last night with run club.

Mile repeats with 400 recovery.

My boss started talking trash during the day saying how he was going to "smoke me" on the track. I told him I was going to run him into the ground before his race (he's racing the Hamptons Half Marathon on saturday).

Repeat #1 - I pulled off the front of the 6:30 pace group after 400m (as I normally do) and continued to put distance between me and the pack. Little did I know, my boss was hanging back just out of sight. With 100m left, he pulled even. I sped up. He sped. I sped. By the time we get to about 75m left we were both sprinting. I beat him...barely. If he had waited long to make his move, he would have likely beat me.

Repeat #2 - We both struggled mightily. I finished about 5 seconds off the 6:30 pace and he was about 20 seconds behind me.

Repeat #3 - I recover and run about a 6:18 with a nice kick in the last 200. My boss skipped the last repeat.

Tonight I get back in the pool and then do a nice recovery run.

Fighting Injuries? This might help

The Beach. It was Reached.

An official race report will be posted eventually, but for now here are the results of Team CityCoach:

10th overall

355 teams

Citycoach

3/166

Mixed Open 24:02:24 6:54 pace
Personally, I ran much better than I expected and gave myself some confidence moving toward the Chicago Marathon. My legs were:

8.4 miles - roughly a 6:45 pace
4.9 miles - 6:30 pace for the first 4.1 or so and then a little over 7 for the last monstrous hill
3.1 miles - 6:50ish pace

all legs under 7 minutes, which taking the conditions into consideration I'm VERY happy with.

Lance will be back, its official

Astana has denied rumors, but the Vanity Fair article makes it official. Who Lance rides for is still up in the air, but he's making a comeback. I'm still not sure how I feel about this.

I just realized that I had the date for the Knickerbocker 60K wrong. I thought it was a week later than it is. Although I said I wouldn't run it again, I think I just might. I'll definitely be in town, so why not? 37.2 miles is just a leisurely stroll these days. Ok, well maybe not, but it doesn't seem that long to me anymore...perspective is crazy. So I am.

Track

Mornings are not my thing, however, to avoid the risk of going 0-3 on meeting Kevin for tuesday morning track workouts, I rolled myself out of bed and got to the East 6th Street track a little after 7:30 a.m.

I talked to Coach Cane last night to get an idea of what he'd suggest for a track workout keeping in mind that I'm running Reach the Beach this weekend. He suggested 4X800s with 400 recovery. JC is the man who knows things (mostly useless things, but he knows running too), so 4X800s with 400 recovery is what I did.

3:03
3:08
3:16 (argh)
3:07

overall not bad. I'm glad to have it over with, but none of the 800s felt good. They were all a struggle, and at that pace, they shouldn't have been.

I'm now 1-3 on the track workouts. Too bad baseball is about the only thing where being successful 1/3 of the time is viewed as good.

Is it wednesday?

nope, its monday, but i did a wednesday-like workout.

I ran with Run Club tonight. I did a nice, steady 6 miles at around 7:45 pace with a nice little kick at the end. I then left work and headed to the gym where I lifted biceps and back. Then I hopped in the pool for a 1000m swim. I was able to do a 400m swim without having to take a break. Nothing special but its progress. My freestyle is getting a little better, but I still can't get my breathing down.

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In a completely unrelated story, rumors are abound that Lance Armstrong has his sights set on 5 cycling races next year, including Le Tour. He would be racing for no salary and no bonuses, posting all his blood work online. He was reported to be joining Astana, but Astana is denying the rumors. Still no word from Lance or his people. He apparently pulled out of the Chicago and NYC Marathons, which would go along nicely with these rumors. I'm not sure how I feel about it if rumors prove to be true. I'd love to see him win another title just to shut up the naysayers, but part of me wants him to just stay retired. No matter what he does, people will always be convinced he was doping.

What a difference a day makes

I got in a FAST 6 miler tonight. I went out without a watch because I just wanted to log some miles and didn't care about pace. I ran in the Skylons for the first time in a quite a while. The first 1/4 mile or so my legs felt dead, but then everything loosened up and I was flying. I felt phenomenal. I felt like I could have done 20 at the same pace I was clocking my 6 miles in. I had endless energy.

The weather was great and I felt great. Very surprising after logging 20 horrible miles the yesterday.

Slow Saturday Slog

Today was a 20 miler. Today was HUMID. The run felt more like a swim. I drew up a course for 20 miles. Tiffany, a potential pacer who is trying to run Chicago in the same time as me, met me at Niketown and we headed out to the west side and proceeded down to the Runners' Station. By the time I made it down there I was already drenched in sweat. A few miles later, near the Brooklyn Bridge, I looked like I'd just stepped out of the shower. My clothes were literally dripping with sweat. We went over the bridge and started up flatbush ave toward prospect park. The long, slow incline started wearing at my legs and I could feel I was starting to get dehydrated, but it wasn't too bad. We entered the park and found a water fountain to down some more water. As we made the loop and found ourselves at the last hill going out of the park, I could tell I was starting to fade. There were enough gels in the world to bring me out of it. I slowly made it up the hill and caught back up to Tiffany (she likely slowed to let me catch up). We went back down flatbush toward the Manhattan bridge and I really started feeling bad. Right before we made our last turn to the bridge I started feeling dizzy. She was nice enough to walk with me for a bit as I prayed for the sky to open up and break the humidity. The heavens were stubborn. We slowly made our way to the apex of the bridge and then picked up the pace a little on the descent. Off the bridge we were about a mile from the finish. It was a ROUGH mile, but I made it.

The run was one of the worst I've had in a LONG, LONG time. I felt bad for holding Tiffany back when she was actually having a great run. It definitely was not my day.

Recovery Thursday

All day my entire body felt like jelly. My legs from the run and my upper body from the swim/weights. I just did an easy 4 miler at work with Run Club. I set out with the 8 min/mile pace group to take it easy, but ended up breaking off the front about halfway through because it was a little too slow even for a recovery run.

sweet, sweet rest day tomorrow.

Weekly Wednesday

(back dating a few entries)

I set out to punish myself once again. When I got off work, I didn't really feel like doing much, but I had called to reserve a lane at the pool earlier in the day to lock myself in. Like the week before, I scheduled it for 9:30 so that I would have a 45 minute gap in which to lift weights. I got to the gym and worked out chest and shoulders and then hit the pool. I did 800m. It was slightly easier than last week, but still challenged me quite a bit. I'm getting my breathing down a bit better, but my form still sucks and I'm having to mix in quite a bit of breast stroke. It feels good to be swimming again though. I really need to get a real suit instead of the "board shorts" type I'm currently in. Reducing drag would probably help me out a lot.

I finished up the swim, came home, and changed into running gear. I set out to get in around 9-10 miles, but had no course in mind. When I got to the Williamsburg Bridge, I just decided to do bridge repeats. I did 7 miles (2.5 out and backs) on the bridge doing .3 mile pick-ups on each uphill side of the bridge. I felt great the entire time and even better when I got home.

Swimming, the bike, and (not) running

going to swim again on wednesday. I put in 800m last week and it was tough. I had forgotten how taxing swimming can be. It felt great, but I'm definitely out of shape. I'll keep going for 800m until I can swim it continuously and then I'll add some distance.

the bike. the new wheel set and cassette sure look pretty on my bike. too bad the chain is sitting on the floor and the bike is unrideable due to two blown out valve stems. i should have known better than to start a project at 11 pm. I gave up.

I haven't been running like I need to. I blamed work over the weekend, which was legitimate due to the Human Race, but tonight I had no excuse. I still didn't run. I've got to get myself into gear or I'll never qualify for Boston.

Pyramid

I've got Wolfmother's "Pyramid" playing right now in honor of tonight's track workout.

Once again, I didn't make it to the track to meet Kevin for my tuesday morning track work. Part was due to a work issue and part was due to the work issue making me lazy and going back to sleep. What that basically meant was that I had to squeeze in a track workout tonight.

I hate track workouts. They are the bane of my existence. I'm not built for speed and speed hurts. Speed is more uncomfortable for me than pounding out a 30 mile run. But to get faster, I have to take steps outside my comfort zone.

So, I headed over to McCarren Park about 11:20 tonight and mimicked the distances Kevin did this morning but with slower times since he's considerably faster than me.

1 mile warm up

400 - target 1:35, hit 1:25
600 - target 2:22, hit can't remember but it was under
800 - target 3:09, hit ~3:05
1000 - target 3:57, hit 3:55
1000 - target 3:57, hit 3:55
800 - target 3:09, hit 3:08
600 - target 2:22, hit 2:22
400 - target 1:35, hit 1:30

1 mile cool down

I pushed myself, but looking at the times I think I could have probably set slightly harder targets. Also, most distances were only uncomfortable for 300-400 meters and then I sort of settled into a state of...well, i'm not sure. It didn't feel good, but it sure didn't hurt like track work normally does. I have to say, I felt great afterwards and I almost liked the workout, which is a bit scary.

Here's a nice little tool I found that will spit out your splits at the track once you input your race distance and time goal.

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On a completely separate note, we had our team meeting for our Reach the Beach team last night. I got a tentative breakdown of the legs I'm running. The mileage isn't too bad and the legs look fairly easy. We still have to change out one team member, so my legs might change. I'll post my legs and info once they are finalized. I can't wait for that race.

Jello

Yesterday was one of the worst runs I've had in a long, long time. My legs didn't recover much from the ride and I managed to go out at the hottest time of the day. A scheduled 12 mile run ended up being a 9.5 mile run. Going up the Williamsburg Bridge, I could barely get one foot in front of the other. The 9.5 miles felt like 20. I could never get into a groove. My legs just felt like jello. Oh well, its monday, time to reload and put in miles this week.

Back on the bike

After much too long of laying off the bike, I put in just under 76 miles. Ross and I left the city and headed up 9W to Rockland State Park and back. He was rockin' his new madone, while I was dreaming of actually getting all my bike parts installed on my bike. We held a pretty good pace for the majority of the ride. I flatted once, and luckily the patch actually held.

We ended our ride at The Hairy Monk to join some co-workers and a bunch of RUN NYC people to watch the men's olympic marathon. A kenyan won gold for the first time ever and the Americans had a good showing with Ritz and Hall both finishing in the top 10.

My legs feel like jelly, so we'll see how the scheduled 12 mile sunday run goes.

Long Run

I feel a bit better about my training after getting in a 20-mile long run on Friday. It wasn't easy, but I know I have the stamina to knock it out. I just need to continue adding to my base and picking up speed in the next 8 weeks or so.

My good friend Jim might have just agreed to do something even more ridiculous than the 50 miler next year. We'll see how that pans out. Its something we had both discussed wanting to try, but I didn't think he would be up for it just yet.

Behind Schedule

I looked at a calendar today. I'm nowhere near where I need to be for Chicago. Maybe I'll feel better after pounding out a 20 miler this weekend, but I feel very behind right now. The speed at shorter distances is there, but 7:13s over 26.2 miles is a different story.

I did a quick 4 miles tonight. At about the 3 mile mark I completely ate it. The street was kind of dark and I didn't see an uneven section of the sidewalk. I've now got a bloody knee and a sore shoulder. At least I finished out the run.

And I just have to say that Micheal Phelps is RIDICULOUS.

4 Years Ago

August 9, 2004 - We arrived dark-skinned and road weary in Anchorage, Alaska with a new outlook on life and the world after 70 days on the road.

Track Attack

Its actually starting to feel good to run fast. Well, fast for me at least. I hit the track again tonight for another short speed session. Next week I'll jump into a full track workout and see how my body responds.

It also feels good to have a little regularity back in my gym schedule. I've long since left behind the college days of trying to bulk up, so now I focus on just trying to maintain some definition and lean out.

It has been exactly one month since my 50 mile run. Its amazing how fast time goes by these days.

Re-learning Paces

I was running long and slow for so long that I've lost touch with what certain paces feel like. I ran a 7:12 pace today for a little under 3.5 miles. It felt fine, but I thought I was moving a little faster than I was. I've gotta get to where that 7:12 feels normal. That's roughly what I need to run to qualify for Boston. That means on my fast days I need to be running sub 7s. I can do it, but its just going to take some adjusting.

Tomorrow I hit the track.

8.4.04

Hard to believe its been 4 years

Day 65: August 4 Beaver Creek, YT to Northway, AK (gas station) 71 miles

I woke up wrapped up and still cold from the night’s frigid temperatures. I felt surprisingly good after riding as hard as I could the previous day. I shivered as I packed up my belongings and helped tear down the tent. I could feel the excitement mounting. After breakfast the biggest and last race of the trip would take place—the race to Alaska. The race filled every topic of discussion as the teams ate breakfast and readied for the day.

Many of the riders from the Rocky Route and a few of the slower riders from our route opted to not race to the border. We lined up on the highway with Skip filming, and before I could even feel excitement in the pit of my stomach, the race began. I started toward the back of the long pace line. My legs still felt good riding at the quick pace. So far the road was quite flat, and I knew there wouldn’t be a separation in the pack until we reached some hills.

After a few miles, I could tell that I wasn’t going to be able to hold the pace once we started climbing, so I decided to take a few minutes of glory. I moved to the left toward the middle of the road and began my assault on the front of the pack. I increased my pace and began passing rider after rider until I found myself in the front. I moved back to the right and began pulling the pack. My quads began to burns as I continued the quick pace of the peloton.

I continued to pull for a few miles until I saw a slight dip before the road beckoned skyward. I turned to the left and pushed hard down hill, but as soon as we started climbing, the pack broke apart. I watched helplessly as the entire field blew by me. For a split second, I felt defeated as I watched the racers distance themselves from me, but I recalled my strong ride the day before and remembered my choice to move into the lead, ending any hopes I had of competing.

At that moment, I decided to readjust my goal for the race to Alaska. I was now in last of the racers, so I decided to see how many people I could pick off before reaching the border. I picked up the pace and saw Doug ahead of me. I finally reeled in Doug and as I passed I said, “Come on, let’s go!” Doug was tired, but pulled in behind me and the two of us pressed on. We quickly overtook Don, who had to drop out with a broken spoke. Next, we passed Dan, who was having back issues.

The landscape was rising and falling as Doug and I continued our pursuit of the border. My legs were burning, but I continued to press on. Doug and I took turns pulling each other while we hammered away. We picked off a couple more riders before catching up to Paul. When Paul saw me, he picked up his pace, as did I. Doug fell off a bit and Paul and I challenged each other to push our limits. I saw Suchin ahead and set my sights on him as I began to put a little bit of space between myself and Paul.

I saw a building at the top of the next hill that I figured was probably the U.S. Customs building. I thought I had enough distance left that I could catch Suchin before he made it to the border. I pushed myself harder and zeroed in on Suchin. I couple minutes later, I saw Suchin stop at the bottom of the ascent before the customs building. I was so focused on trying to catch Suchin that I didn’t even realize that the border was actually at the bottom of the hill. I continued a hard push to the border even though I had no chance to catch anyone else.

When I crossed the border, I was so tired I couldn’t even celebrate. I immediately put my bike done and went to sit down on a bench completely exhausted. It took me a few minutes to regroup and settle down before I was able to get up and join the rest of the riders in celebration. We cheered as rider after rider crossed the border. Once all the riders entered Alaska, the picture taking started.

We took a series of group pictures with the sign welcoming visitors to Alaska. Several riders climbed on top of the sign, while the rest of us gathered in front. I stood on the back row pointing at the location of Anchorage on the depiction of Alaska on the sign. After the group shots, I took several pictures in front of the sign, both alone and with Tommy, Steve, and Dbear.

There was a bench that resided half in Alaska and half in the Yukon. The actual border was a fifteen foot wide strip cut into the thick forest extending indefinitely in both directions. We talked with several groups of tourist who were quite intrigued when they learned of our undertaking. We began to wind down the celebration and the extended break, as we still had a little over fifty miles left on the day.

Unfortunately, pursuing our ultimate goal of Anchorage meant we had to bid farewell to Dbear. He was supposed to meet his mother in Seattle in a few days and would not have time to drive down to meet her if he proceeded to Anchorage. Dbear leaving us made crossing into Alaska bittersweet. He had been an integral part of our team, a tentmate, and a good friend. After a series of hug, we all watched as Dbear drove away back into the Yukon.

One less vehicle and friend, we rode up the hill to proceed through customs. When I got to the top of the hill, I read the signs forbidding photographs. We lined up at the customs building to the queer looks of the customs agents. One by one, an agent inspected our birth certificates and driver’s licenses while asking a few questions to each rider. After the last rider made it through customs, we continued our ride.

A few miles after customs, we came across a gas station. Although we had an extended break at the border, we stopped at the gas station for lunch. Since we were back in the U.S., I decided to take the chance to make a call to my parents for the first time since Seattle. I was able to inform them of our crossing the border and was given congratulations.

After the lunch stop, I decided to set out riding alone and enjoy the Alaskan landscape. Although the mountains had receded the past couple days, the road still rose and fell with the rolling landscape. The forest was thick with trees but spotted with lakes. As I rode through the crisp air, I smiled at the thought of entering a state I’d longed to visit all my life.

As I rounded a corner, I saw a small collection of riders off their bikes looking at something in the distance. When I pulled up, someone pointed to a marshy field where there was a moose standing in the tall grass. It wasn’t a bull moose, but it was still very amazing to see the massive animal. She stood almost motionless in the meadow below as we took pictures.

A couple short miles later, I came upon the van where some of the riders were already enjoying mid-ride snacks. We discussed the moose and then they pushed out. A couple minutes later, I decided to continue riding alone and pushed out as well. The miles seemed to ride themselves as I was lost in my thoughts of actually being in Alaska. Before I knew it, I happened upon a store where the van was parked in the dirt parking lot, marking the destination for the day’s ride.

We obtained a series of spots in the campground just behind the store. After setting up the tent, Tommy and I went in to the store to use the showers in the back. After showering, I bought some chips and a Pepsi before returning to camp. We ate dinner and then I settled in to the tent, where Tommy shared deer sausage that his family had sent from home. With Dbear gone, there was an available space in our tent, which Meg, from the Rocky Route, decided to occupy. Meg and I talked about music for a little bit before everyone went to sleep.

Sometimes its just not your day

I did my first track workout in a long time last night. It wasn't even a very difficult one, yet it still roughed me up...

1.1 mile warm-up

100 (100 recovery)
200 (200 recovery)
400 (200 recovery)
800 (200 recovery)
400 (200 recovery)
200 (200 recovery)
100 (100 recovery)
100 (100 recovery)

1.1 mile cool-down

I was feeling it today. I also went out for a late-night run, but it was awful. I did under 3 miles. I love running late at night, but tonight just wasn't nice to me. Tomorrow will be a tempo run.

If I can work it out, I'll likely be doing this race. I'll be doing the 50K option. If I wasn't racing Chicago, I'd likely just jump on the 100K. I'll take it at a nice slow pace.

Hell week is over...training has begun.

The NYC Half Marathon is over and I finally get to sleep again. I put in a lot of hours last week, but I was able to be about 15 yards from the finish line to watch the elites come in.

Anyway, today was day 1 of marathon training for Chicago. I really, really, really want to qualify for Boston, so I'm getting serious. I logged 3.5 miles this morning and then did another 6 miles tonight. Tomorrow is a track workout.

Thanks to a long work week and a hell of a cool boss, I'm now running in these:








These shoes are sweet. Completely different than anything I've run in. I'm hoping I can do long runs in them, because I want to run Chicago in the racer version of the the lunars.

Run in your Underwear!

tonight was the Chipotle Underwear Run in Central Park.

I went for the modest boxer briefs. Plenty of people in costumes. It was a lot of fun. A simple 1.7 mile lower loop and quite a few strange stares from people in the park who had no idea what was going on. I finished in 12:16. Not fast, not slow.

Being out there and hearing about the NYC Tri (the underwear run was the kick-off to the tri weekend) made me wish I had gone ahead and paid the ridiculous entry fee so I could be taking part in the race on sunday. Oh well.

The run was a blast regardless.

Life after 50

I ran on monday. I went out in central park with Run Club for about a 5.5 mile run. I went a little too quick, but it was a rough, rough run. I didn't feel muscle fatigue in the legs initially, but my entire body just felt lethargic. It was tough to keep moving at a quick pace. When I turned off the 102nd St. transverse on the west side, I struggled mightily to tackle the rolling hills back down to 59th. A couple miles into the run I started to feel muscle fatigue in my legs. I've now seen what it takes to recover from a 50 mile run. Even almost a week and a half out, I was still feeling the effects.

Last night I went out on a 3.5 miler in Brooklyn. I actually felt pretty good averaging 7:30 miles. I don't know that I'm back to 100%, but I'm getting close. Two weeks isn't too horrible of a recovery time I suppose.

Tomorrow I'm going to try and log 100 miles on the bike. I guess that will be more of a test though. My first attempt at endurance since the 50 miler.

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In news not related to me. Le Tour rolls on. Once again, cheaters. Some of these guys are either incredibly arrogant or incredibly stupid. Perhaps Both. Saunier-Duval is withdrawing from the tour. It just sucks because crap like this is almost undermining what teams like Columbia and Chipotle-Garmin are trying to do. I still can't give up. I love watching the tour. Its not any worse than MLB, and at least cycling is taking an aggressive stance against doping. Most pro sports just choose to ignore the issues.

And on a cool note. Thanks to Astana not being invited to the tour (which is complete crap, btw), we get this awesome display of sportsmanship by Chris Horner:



















P.S. The 50 mile race report is about halfway finished.

My week of rest is almost over

I've done nothing this week. I deserve it. But my week of fried foods, pizza, slurpees, and beer is almost over. I did a short 3.5 mile shakeout run on tuesday, but other than that I think the only time my heart rate has risen was when the escalator in the subway was broken and I had to walk up the stairs.

Still working on that Race Report. Its long.

Finger Lakes Fifty Miler

After a long day of traveling by subway, bus, car, and minivan, Jim and I arrived, along with his family, at a Bed and Breakfast situated in the middle of Finger Lakes National Forest. Prior to arriving I ate a HUGE bowl of pasta and ate what felt like half a loaf of bread. Jim's sister had already picked up our race packets for us, so I went upstairs to settle in and get all my stuff ready for the morning. I pinned my number onto my singlet and packed up my drop bag with everything I could possibly need for the race.

At 5 a.m. the alarm announced it was time to get up. I got out of bed and sleepily dressed myself. I ate a powerbar and then went downstairs and had a bowl of cereal. A little after 5:30 we loaded into the van and drove the couple miles to the Potomac Campground where the start of the race was located. Jim and I walked toward the start/finish area and inquired about where we could leave our bags. I ate a banana and we jumped in line for the bathroom where we chatted with a couple other runners about just what we had gotten ourselves into.

As the line to the bathroom shortened in front of me, the race director announced that we had 15 minutes until the start of the 50 miler and the 50K. After taking care of business, Jim and I immediately went to the starting area which was back out on the road. Runners were milling around in the road waiting on the start of their epic runs. Race-day friendships rekindled as all the area ultra runners talked about their recent races and caught up on family news. A few last-minute announcements and race rules were called out, and then a cow bell clanked signaling the start of the race.

A long descent on the dirt road eased us into the first mile of the race. Spirits were high among runners as we jogged along enjoying the slow pace instead of the blistering starting pace of most shorter races. Soon we turned off the road and onto a single-track trail. The trail slowly wound upwards and Jim and I monitored our pace trying to keep from running too fast. We were clocking about 8:30 miles which was a little fast, but it was difficult for us to slow the pace. The field had yet to spread out, so there were many runners in single file on the trails chatting amongst themselves. Jim and I started talking to a guy named Ron and another woman named Sarah.

Ron was running his first 50 miler after doing an ironman the previous year. I wondered about Ron though as he was running in a cotton t-shirt and shorts that looked suspiciously like basketball shorts. Sarah, on the other hand, was a trail-hardened veteran. She had done over 300 marathons and ultras in 25 years and had won the Leadville 100 and the Vermont 100, among others, and had previously held the course records on several courses. Jim and I chatted with Ron and Sarah as we continued along the narrow trail.

Eventually the trail crossed a road where we saw our first Forest Ranger who was monitoring runners as they passed. The course then paralleled at barbed wire fence with a scenic overlook to the surrounding hills. We followed the fence line for mile or so before encountering our first gate. We'd been given stern instructions to make sure to close all gates on the course to make sure we didn't let any cows out. After passing through the gate, we ran up a hill and through a pasture dotted with trees. There was evidence of cows everywhere on the ground, but there were no animals anywhere to be found. The trail leveled off and then a short way later we arrived at the second gate where we turned left onto a gravel road.



A couple hundred yards later, the road turned to the right and began a nice descent. Jim and I realized we were still running at too fast of a pace, but I told Jim that I wasn't going to slow down on a downhill. There was a pretty big hill ahead we had to climb, so I told him we could slow when we started up it. The big hill turned out to be an optical illusion. When we got there it turned out to be a short, easy climb. It was about this time when Jim mentioned to me that he had some...well..."stomach issues." We continued a nice easy descent when Jim told me he was going to have to duck off into the woods. We agreed that I would keep running and he would eventually catch up to me. After Jim departed, the road seemed to fall over a cliff. The descent became very steep, so I blazed down the rest of the hill which ended up being about a mile or so.

The bottom of the hill marked the first aid station, which meant I'd completed somewhere around four miles. I took a PowerGel and drank some water before reentering the forest on a single-track trail. The trail immediately started uphill regaining some of the elevation lost on the long descent. The previously blazing pace downhill quickly turned into a brisk hike up some short, but very steep sections. I'd run a twenty feet or so on the flat sections and then hike up the hills. This continued for awhile as I dodged a few pockets of mud that speckled the trail. Eventually the trail me with another road crossing and I had to go through another gate.

After safely secured the gate behind me, I turned to run through the field in front of me and looked out over the landscape. I exclaimed out loud, "Oh, wow. Nice." A runner behind me said, "Yeah it is. This is the nicest part of the course." We started chatting. He had run the race the year before. He previously lived in Brooklyn, so we talked about the different parts of Brooklyn. At the end of the field, he called out for me to watch out for an enormous mud pit that stood directly between me and the next gate leading back into the forest. I swung around that, went through the gate and proceeded downhill on the trail deep into the woods.

I continued a short conversation with the guy behind me as we traversed the single track, which eventually wound its way back up the hill and over a few boardwalk sections. Once again losing altitude, I got a little too comfortable and neglected to watch my footing. My toe clipped an exposed root and all my weight went forward landing me on my side. I quickly got up and started running again as I brushed myself off. I was half-expecting to take a fall, but not until later in the race when my body was tired. Falling 7.5 miles in was a surprise. After losing a little more elevation, the trail spit me out to the second aid station where I stopped to grab some fuel. I was there for no longer than 20 seconds when Jim came running out of the woods. He had caught up to me.

Jim's family was also at the stop, so they snapped a couple of pictures of us and asked how we were doing before I led us back into the forest. The single-track quickly turned into large pockets of mud that we were attempting to dodge but with little luck. Since I'd done almost all my training in my Vomeros, I'd decided to run in my them instead of running in my trail shoes, and the Vomeros were doing little to stave off water or mud.

Jim and I were both feeling pretty strong and were cruising along on the flat, open sections at a good clip making sure we were staying in our target pace zone. The temperature was still magnificent and the air felt light and clean to breathe. These flat sections were a treat. The only obstacle was dodging horse manure, but after mud, rocks, roots, and hills, the manure was not slowing us down.

Much sooner than anticipated we spotted the next aid station in the distance. Upon seeing the station, Jim asked, "Is that my mom?" Another look proved the figure to be a 10-year-old boy. We both laughed as Jim said, "Well she's short and they both have the same haircut." Still laughing, we got to the aid station and refueled. I started walking up the next hill as Jim finished up his stop and then caught up when we got to a gate at the top of the hill.



Looking forward, I could see another cow pasture spread out before us with a worn trail slicing through it. Fording a small raving put us into the field where I quickly realized how difficult this flat stretch was going to be. The cattle had dimpled the trail with hoof prints so thoroughly that every step risked an ankle sprain. Slowly, carefully navigating the pasture still resulted in several rolled ankles, but luckily none were injury-inducing. On the other end of the field, the trail ended abruptly at a wooden box sitting next to the barbed wire fence. Draping over the fence and onto the box was a piece of old carpet. The trail continued on the other side of the fence.

Still relatively full of energy, Jim and I quickly scaled the box, carpet, and fence in one fell swoop and disappeared back into the trees where more single-track and mud greeted us. Once again, we found ourselves spit out onto a road--this time paved--for about a quarter of a mile uphill section. Jim and I decided to walk most of this ascent to save our legs for the trail sections. At the top of the hill, there was another Park Ranger checking numbers and a "water only" aid station. I refilled my water bottle and then Jim and I ducked back into the trails.

Once again dodging scattered mud holes on the trail, Jim and I made our way through the forest rising and falling with the topography of the park. I had been feeling some rumblings in my stomach, but I was hoping I could hold out until the end of the loop as to not have to experience a "call of nature" like Jim did earlier in the race.

The course was marked with pink flagging tape and arrows and had been fairly well-marked throughout. However, Jim and I approached what looked like a fork in the trail with no flagging tape or arrows. We stopped and looked around. Taking the right fork seemed to be correct, but we weren't completely sure. We gambled. We went right. As we continued there was still no flagging tape. There were no arrows. Just as I was starting to get nervous, I caught sight of a pink strip hanging from a tree.

Relieved to know I was on the right path, Jim and I found ourselves traversing a series of boardwalks over the forest floor. The boardwalks were precarious because I never knew if I was going to step down on a board that was secure or not. Many of the boards flexed quite a bit, while others were solid. This was exacerbated because the boards were laid in the parallel direction of the trail. If I were to step on two boards at the same time, it was possible that one would flex while the other would not resulting in a serious ankle roll. Some of the boardwalk sections we completely loose resulting in interesting footing as Jim and I both place our weight on them at different times and places.

Once off the boardwalk section the trail straightened out for a slight downhill section that was riddled with exposed roots. We had to slow our pace to dodge the minefield of roots, but eventually we made it back out onto a more "normal" trail section that began to climb again. I looked at our mileage and realized we should be nearing the end of the first loop. After a few twists and turns, we rounded a corner and saw an aid station next to a pond. This thoroughly confused--and scared--me. Either the mileage was way off or the section between this aid station and the end of the loop was going to be very difficult. Those were the only two explanations I could think of for there being an aid station at this point.

I refueled and refilled water wondering what was in store for us. We left behind the aid station and passed another pond and then turned back into a more wooded area. The course went through sections of open area before returning to the trees. Jim and I had caught back up to Ron and Sarah who were beginning to wonder if we were still running on the correct trail. We all agreed that there really wasn't anywhere to miss a turn, but Ron and Sarah were still quite skeptical and stopped to look around while Jim and I continued on.

I wasn't really doubting anything until the route was questioned. As I continued running without seeing any markers, doubt really started to creep in. A wrong turn would make sense because my mileage was off. It would make sense because our pace seemed a little slow. Jim and I continued slowly along the path as the other duo milled around behind. I finally rounded a corner, squinted my eyes, and saw a sign with an arrow in it. Jim and I yelled back and then picked up our pace. When we turned the corner where the arrow was, we spotted the start/finish area about fifty yards ahead. We rushed through to the cheers of the small audience stationed there.

I immediately made a break for the bathroom and tossed Jim my water bottle to fill. I met Jim back at our drop bags. I quickly took a few big drinks of my flat Mt. Dew, took a couple Endurolytes, and grabbed a handful of beef jerky. With that Jim and I left behind the start area to begin our second loop. We were less than a third of the way done.

There was a trail that sliced through the woods which cut off the road we ran from the starting line to the initial entrance to the forest. Jim and I jogged the downhill section which eventually spat us out on the road, which we crossed and then reentered the trails. For the first time, we were running a familiar trail. We knew what geography was ahead of us, but we were sure what was ahead of us physically. As we climbed the hills of at the beginning of the loop, I consulted our mileage and Jim consulted his watch. We did some quick math and realized we were still on pace to come in around 8:30:00, but we didn't have the time cushion we thought we were. There was a chance to still make our goal, but we knew it was a long shot because fatigue would eventually take over and slow the pace.

Jim and I continually asked how the other was feeling. I was still feeling pretty fresh and said he was feeling good as well. We weren't charging up inclines, but we were both able to tackle the uphill sections with some ease. We came out of the trees at the first road crossing where one of the overlooks was. First thing I noticed was that the fog had burned off giving us a fantastic view of rolling pasture and farmlands in the distance. We were once again following the fence line on the way to the first gate of the loop. We cruised the turns of the fences and then through the gate. Jim and I both noted that we had yet to see a cow in any of the gated areas. We continued up the hill and into a sparsely treed area, which put us at the gate exiting the pasture. A few hundred yards on the gravel road put us at the turn toward the first aid station. However, we both knew there was a long descent first.

We took on the slow decline and a small hill with ease knowing that gravity would keep us moving on the next section. Jim mentioned that once again he was feeling his "stomach" troubles returning. After realizing we were at the same place on the course that he had to stop the previous loop, I told him that we were at "his spot" if he need to make another pit stop. We started down the steep decline and gravity was trying to pull us much faster than our pace. I told Jim I was going to open it up and just let it go because it hurt too much to try and slow down. We agreed we would meet back up at the base of the long hill. I flew down the hill and when I got to the bottom, I noticed Jim had opened it up a bit as well because he wasn't too far behind.

Another runner that had been in our general vicinity--both ahead and behind us at times--was a girl who's pace was almost rhythmic. It was obvious that she was not a rookie at the ultra distance. She was right behind us as Jim and I approached the first aid station. I asked Jim if he needed to stop because I was fine skipping the station. He agreed that he did not have a need to stop, so we hung a quick right into the woods as the volunteers helpfully yelled, "we have water, heed, pretzels, and..." Their words faded as we began the quick hike up the steep inclines that burned my quads after the hamstring pounding descent of the road. We followed the same procedure I followed on this section on the first loop. Run the short flat sections. Hike the steep sections.

Once we got passed the steep sections, I realized two things that I noted to Jim. The first was that the flat section wasn't really flat. We had now logged about 21 miles and I realized that we were actually running on a slight uphill that I didn't notice the first time around. It was a little harder going than the first time through. The second thing I noticed was something else slowing us down. The large number of runners who had tromped through the trails had kneaded the mud and expanded the mud holes to many times their original sizes. It was considerably harder to go around them. The other factor that made them more difficult was that the mud had begun to dry out slightly, giving them a much better grip on shoes. Sometimes we went around the outside of the mud holes. Sometimes we went through the mud. And sometimes I noticed a new trail blazed beside the mud that skipped it completely.


Eventually we came out of the forest, crossed the road, and then went through a gate to the scenic pasture. Jim dropped back behind me to snap some pictures of me running through the field and then caught back up to me. We went through the gate on the other side of the field and then started back downhill. I commented on how glad I was that the trail was pretty much downhill to the next aid station. Jim corrected me, and I quickly realized that I had completely blocked out a big uphill section and a couple boardwalk sections. Eventually, we got through to the downhill section I recalled, I pointed out to Jim where I'd taken a spill on the previous loop, and then we were at the second aid station where his family was once again waiting for us.

I refueled while Jim mingled with his family. His mom snapped a picture of us and then we ducked back into the trees onto the single-track. We dodged roots, mud, and rocks for a short while until we were spit back out onto the first paved road of the loop. As we ran uphill, we passed an older gentleman that was running very awkwardly and very slowly. He looked like he was in serious need of a bathroom. I noted this to Jim. We both laughed. I told Jim that the only reason we could laugh is because we both knew the "squeezed cheeks" running form. We knew it as any distance runner does. We've all been there. Nature doesn't always operate on your running schedule as Jim had already proven earlier on loop one.

We ran up a good section of the hill and then took a short walk break. When we stopped running, I glanced over and realized we were passing the bed and breakfast that we were staying in for the weekend. Earlier we had decided that the trail past it must be on the short loop at the end of the race. Somehow we had both completely missed passing it on the first loop. We reached the corner, turned off the road, and began running again.

Jim and I cruised along the flat horse trail. I once again asked Jim how he was feeling and he said, "Umm, good." I laughed a little and told him that each time I asked him how he felt that the "umm" got a little longer. He laughed and then told me that I looked solid and my pace was robotic. At a little over the halfway point, I was actually feeling really fresh and strong. We continued to push along the flat section trying to get our average pace back down in the easier sections. Soon we approached the next aid station, where I grabbed a fig newton, refilled water, and grabbed a couple M&Ms. I told Jim I was going to continue walking while he took advantage of the aid station. I didn't want to stiffen up, so I kept moving.

I made it to the top of a short hill where I opened the next gate. Shortly after, Jim was back with me as we tried to dodged the severely dimpled cow pasture. Surviving the minefield of hoof print holes, we ended up at the box and carpet again. I went over first followed by Jim.

Soon, we caught up with Sarah and started talking to her. She informed us that she was only running the 50K, but she had run over 300 races between marathon and ultra marathons in the past 25 years. Her pace was steady, light, and methodical as she cruised down the trail. We asked her what had happed to Ron and she said she thought he had gone out much too fast. Jim and I both agreed. I asked Sarah about several 100 mile courses and she told me the advantages and disadvantages of the courses and what she thought was the proper progression in moving from the 50 mile race to the 100 mile race.

I asked Jim how he was feeling and he replied, "Ummmm.......good." I turned to him and replied, "Jim I know you pretty well. That 'um' was drawn out. I don't think you are feeling that great." He admitted that he had been hurting since around mile 23 or 24.

The three of us continued chatting about ultras as we dodged the ever-expanding mud holes. Sarah was out in front answering our questions when I heard Jim yell out. I quickly turned to see a sock-footed Jim trying to bring his run to a stop in the middle of a large section of mud. Jim had taken an ill-fated step into the mud, which refused to give his shoe back. His momentum carried him forward and he took a couple more strides through the mud sans one shoe. Sarah, Jim, and I laughed at Jim's misfortune. Sarah told us to take a picture and send it in to Trail Runner Magazine. I snapped a couple pictures of Jim retrieving his shoe from the black, sticky mud while Sarah continued her run. It was the last we saw of her.


Once Jim had his shoe back on, we continued onward. Jim took more care in giving mud a much wider berth rather than forging straight through. As we continued to wind through the trails, we heard someone coming up from behind us. Jim noticed it was Ron. He was still hanging on. We yelled back and him and he gave us a friendly yell back. A few minutes later Jim told me he was going to have to succumb to another call of nature. His "stomach" issues had returned in full force. Jim darted off the path as Ron caught up and passed us.

Jim told me to go on and we'd reconvene somewhere along the way or at the start/finish area. I tucked in behind Ron and the two of us forged on through the mud. We passed a few people and then Ron finally told me I should just go ahead and pass him because he was starting to get tired. I passed him and pressed on alone passing a couple more people before I exited the forest and began the long paved uphill section. I ran about halfway up and then took a short walking break before attacking the rest of the hill. I glanced back and saw people in the distance, but I had already put a big distance between myself the the people behind me. I wondered if Jim would catch up. I knew he was starting to fatigue, but I knew he was a strong runner.

I saw Jim's family at the top of the and let them know he had to make a stop. I filled my water bottle from the cooler at the edge of the trail leading back into the forest and then took on the forest alone. I went made my way through the tangle of roots on the forest floor, tripping a few times, but always being able to regain my balance before falling. I ran through the long boardwalk section and came through to the next aid station in what felt like very little time. When I came around to the aid station, I saw there were several families fishing in the pond and relaxing in the sun. I sort of envied them. Then I heard a woman telling the volunteers that she was about to finish the 25k. She had signed up for the 50K, but decided to drop down to the shorter distance. I tasted blood. It was my first confirmed person to lap. I was closing in on a 50K and this woman was barely finishing her first lap. I bid the volunteers farewell and told them I'd see them in a few hours on my last lap.

Ignited by the boost from lapping the woman, I cruised past the next couple ponds, down a short hill on an open section and back into the woods. I had eclipsed the 30 mile mark and was closing in on the end of my second lap. I was still feeling pretty good--at least as good as one can feel after running over 30 miles--but I was realizing how brutal the last stretch of the loop was. There was nothing overly difficult about it, but it was just steep enough in sections to make it challenging. It was just technical enough that it made footing annoying. Around every corner I kept looking for the arrow marking the turn to the end of the loop, but corner after corner my hopes were dashed. Finally, I ran up a short hill, turned a corner and spotted the arrow. I heard the crowd cheering and sped through to the end of the loop.

Once again, I went straight for the bathroom. Once done there, I went directly to my drop bag, picked up my flat Mt. Dew and took a huge drink of it. I took a couple Endurolytes and then looked up to spot Jim rounding the corner. He had only been a couple minutes behind me. I grabbed some beef jerky and told him I was going to start walking the loop to stay loose. He acknowledged and told me he would see me in a couple minutes. With that, I was on my way to tackle the third and final large loop.

I started walking down the hill while munching on my beef jerky. About halfway down the trail Kelly passed me and remarked, "you are walking on the downhill?" I briefly laughed and replied, "well, I'm eating and waiting on my friend to catch up." I made it to the road crossing with no sign of Jim, so I decided to jog slowly until he caught up. I started jogging when I reentered the trail on the opposite side of the road and eased into the uphill attack. Just when I was getting worried because there was no sign of Jim, I heard him yell "I'm right behind you." I glanced back and saw his figure through the trees.

Thinking Jim was caught up and we were ready to go, I picked up the pace. When we got to the next road crossing signaling the section where we followed the fence line, Jim as only about ten feet behind me. I asked him once again how he was feeling and this time he really paused and then said, "Ummmmm good." We crossed the road and began our run along the mostly flat fence section. I noticed Jim had already fallen back, but it looked like he had stopped to take some pictures.



I kept running with a glance back at each corner to see where Jim was. It appeared that he was falling farther and farther back. I had a dilemma. Long ago, Jim and I agreed that either of us could take off if they were "feeling it." However, we also both wanted to run the entire race together. I knew Jim was starting to fade. I also knew I was still feeling pretty good. I reluctantly decided to keep moving and see if he closed the gap or caught up at the next aid station instead of stopping to wait on him. By the time I got to the gate leading into the first pasture dotted with trees, Jim was nowhere to be found. Kelly and I were basically leapfrogging each other.

When we entered the pasture, she asked me where my friend was and I said that I wasn't sure, but I thought he was starting to fade. Her and I passed a couple of older ladies who were likely 25K runners, then we flew through the section of trees, out the gate and onto the road. We both started descending the road side-by-side through the rolling section. Once we hit the long, steep downhill section, I had to open it up. It was really starting to hurt to open it up down the steep hill, but it hurt even more to try and slow down. I grunted through the uncomfortable drop and
eventually arrived at the first aid station.

I stopped to fill water and refuel. Kelly had caught back up at that point and she charged into the woods ahead of me as I glance back looking for any sign of Jim. With no visible evidence of him advancing on my position, I started on my way again. I quickly caught up to Kelly as we were both tackling the sections that were much too steep to actually run. The first signs of real fatigue were starting to kick in as my quads felt stressed. I fought through the uphill section and wound my way through the trail passing Kelly and moving along the more flat sections at what felt like a good pace.

I popped out of the forest, crossed the road, and then went through the cow pasture with the amazing view of the surrounding area. I passed a couple more people in that field before ducking back into the cover of the trees. Once on the single-track, it was impossible to not feel alone. Someone could only be a few hundred yards ahead or behind, but you would never know. If you were traveling roughly at the same pace, you may not see them for an hour or more. It was a stark contrast to running road races, especially the huge road races of New York City. I liked it in a way, but the race definitely became more difficult mentally to do alone.

I got to aid station two and just as I was about to leave, Kelly came out of the trail behind me to make her stop. She took little time at the aid station and actually started back into the run before me. I ran into the trees not too far behind her. We talked a little and I asked her how many ultras she had done. She said that it was her fifth 50 miler, which explained her consistent pace.

My nutrition felt great and energy level seemed pretty good as well. I had a pretty positive outlook on the next 14 miles or so. I soon came out on the uphill section of paved road that went by the bed and breakfast we were staying at. Jim's family passed me in the minivan and asked me if I needed anything, but I declined. I took a short walking break up the hill and then started running again once I turned onto the open horse trail. Without the tree cover, the heat was starting to make itself known. I enjoyed running the flat section, but I knew too much time in the open sun would quickly drain my energy.


I passed Kelly again and continued the horse trail to the next aid station where I noticed an older guy with a long gray beard laying on the ground trying to stretch out. From the talk, it appeared that he had been there for a long, long time. I figured out that I was lapping him, which gave me a little more energy. However as I left the aid station, the energy was quickly sapped from me as I went up a short ascent. I walked a short way, opened the gate and shuffled through the field. I noticed that with close to 40 miles on my feet, my stride had turned more lazy, however, the shuffle seemed more effective in preventing a rolled ankle in the field heavily covered with shallow craters created by the cattle. When I finished crossing the field, I was once again at the box next to the fence.

There was a guy already there that was readjusting his shoes and socks. He told me to go ahead of him. I placed my foot on the box and hopped up. Feeling my quads strain to lift me up, immediately exclaiming, "ow, that hurt." The guy just started laughing. I jumped down on the side and felt my entire legs strain to absorb the impact. I walked a few paces to try and shake out the feeling and then started running laboriously again.

Back among the trees, I ran through dodging the mud sections and laughed as I passed the area where Jim had lost his shoe the loop before. I was still feeling bad for leaving him behind, but at the same time, I didn't want to slow down knowing I was feeling relatively strong. By the time I made it to the long, paved uphill section, I hadn't seen anyone in a long time. I thought that I would catch sight of someone on the road, but there was no one. I ran a short ways and then walked a large portion of the hill. I ran the last section of the road and then stole a glance back to see if anyone was around. In the distance I saw a small shape slowly coming up the hill about where the trail met the road at the bottom of the hill. With that, I turned right and went back onto the single-track.

I was approaching the 44 mile mark and had about 10K left in the race. I was definitely starting to feel fatigue set in. The strength I had before was quickly draining. My legs felt less pliable and my feet felt like I was trying to transport two bricks across uneven terrain. My mind was beginning to falter as well. I was having to fight urges to stop and walk. A quick restroom break turned into a walk for fifty meters or so before I realized I was walking on level ground. I had to make a deal with myself to run the flats and the downhills and walk the uphills. I trudged through the roots, allowing myself short walking stints to regroup my head and body whenever I stumbled. I didn't feel like I was out of energy. I could still move forward, but my muscles were just tired. I successfully navigated the long boardwalk sections and then walked the uphill section afterwards. I was remembering how I flew up these hills on the previous two loops. They weren't that steep. Now they felt like scaling a mountain.

Eventually I saw the sign indicating the ponds were near, which meant the final aid station before finishing my final big loop. When I got to the campground signaling the turn to the final aid station, I heard someone behind me. I turned and heard Kelly say, "Its just me, I think the last station is right around the corner." We both ran to the station and stopped for refueling and water. There were a couple runners there relaxing who had run the shorter races and were already finished with their day. They informed us that a new course record had been set for the men's and women's 50 mile distances.

The volunteers said, less than two miles left. Kelly and I both remarked, "yeah, then another 4 mile loop." One of the volunteers looked at us funny and said, "You guys are 50 milers? Wow, you look way too strong. I thought you were finishing the 50K!" I took that as a compliment. Maybe I looked strong, but I wasn't feeling it. Kelly left the aid station before me. I trailed behind her, but she was quickly putting distance between us. By the time she turned off the trail at the last pond, she was a good 50 meters ahead of me. It was the last I saw of her. She finished second overall for women.

I went down the short downhill section wincing in pain as my quads exploded with each step. I slowly slogged my way down the trail, wishing every turn was the end of the loop but knowing my wishes were empty. I had to walk most of the uphills and then had trouble making myself start running again once I hit the next flat section. Any downhill was painful as my quads were screaming at me to stop the madness. As much as I wanted to walk, it was more painful to restart running than to just keep going, so as much as possible I just forged on. I finally came upon the boardwalk section that I knew marked the last stretch before catching sight of the arrow pointing to the end of the loop. However, when I turned the corner, my hopes were dashed. There was no arrow. Corner after corner there was nothing. Eventually I came upon another boardwalk. I had forgotten there were two.

I turned the corner and saw the fabled arrow! I picked up the pace, turned the corner and entered the finish area. As I came through the race director asked, "are you going for a baby loop?" I announced, "of course I am!" The small crowd cheered at hearing that I was going for 50. I got a little boost of energy and blew past my drop bag knowing I had less than 4 miles left to completion.

The rush I got from the crowd quickly faded as I followed the familiar downhill trail down to the road crossing. There was a series of railroad ties that were in place on the trail to prevent erosion. I'd previously vaulted over them while running downhill. Now it felt like I was trying to navigate the 800m high hurdles. I had to break stride and step over each tie in an attempt to prevent myself from tripping over the barriers. I made it down the trail and crossed the road knowing that it was the last time I'd see that stretch of the course. I entered what I thought was going to be my last section of familiar trail. I had to navigate uphill to a perpendicular trail. On the previous loops, we had turned left, but this time a right turn awaited me.

Feet more shuffling than striding, I began my ascent of what I thought would be the final hill of course. I made it up to the parallel trail and made a right. The new course was both exciting and slightly scary. I was excited to see new geography. I had no idea what awaited me ahead. It was also scary because I had no idea what awaited me ahead. The trail leveled off and wound through the trees much like portions of the larger loop. There were some small mud holes, but nothing too terrible. I was running looking around at the terrain when I glanced down and saw something move. My heart began racing as I was able to adjust the position of my foot just before stepping on a snake. I glanced back and saw a small greenish-yellow snake slithering away. Although there are no poisonous snakes in New England, my years growing up in Texas have conditioned me to always think "rattlesnake" first.

I then encountered another long section of boardwalks. Leaving behind the planks of wood, the trail began to fall away under my feet. Descending could only mean one thing. I had to be headed back toward the finish line. My spirits were lifted in spite of my heavy feet. Sometime soon I would cross the road where the race initially started and then cruise to the finish of my first 50 miler. The trail continued to unveil before me and I continued my slow progress to the finish. Ahead I saw another trail where we were to turn to the right, which confused me. A huge weight came crushing down on me when I realized what had just happened. The small loop rejoined the large loop just past the final aid station. I still had about a mile and a half before the finish and it was going to be rolling landscape to the finish.

I felts as if someone had just told me I still had10 miles to go. Defeated, I pressed on, but I couldn't motivate myself to run uphill. My body was refusing. The slightest uphill felt like I was
trying to scale a 12-foot fence. I slogged uphill and slowly shuffled through the flat sections while watching the tenths of a mile tick off my SportBand. I was under a mile from the finish and that knowledge couldn't even provide any sort of mental lift. Fatigue had taken over and there was little I could do about it. Usually, when I have a mile or less remaining, I can tough anything out, but with just four-tenths of a mile remaining, I couldn't even get my legs to carry me up and incline. I had to walk. I kept looking back expecting someone to catch me. I was moving so slowly that I knew someone had to be closing in. I could only hope it was Jim so that we could finish together.

I finally got to the second boardwalk and knew that the finish was very near. Even knowing how close I was, I could get my body to move any faster until I rounded the corner and saw the glorious arrow. As soon as I saw the little red savior, I felt a smile grow across the width of my face. Previously hidden adrenaline was released into my system and I felt a high never felt before. My heart raced. My legs pumped. My pace increased. I rounded the corner at the arrow and spotted the finish line and the lingering crowd. I opened it up, stretched my stride, and bounded for the finish. The pain and fatigue were gone. And then I crossed the finish line. I had done it. I'd run 50 miles.

The race directors took the tearaway section of my bib and recorded my time, 9:19:20. I immediately went to my bag and finished off my Mt. Dew, drank some water, and then searched for something sweet. I grabbed a Sunkist as Jim's brother-in-law came to greet me. We went over to the finisher's board to see that I had finished 11th overall. I'd finished an hour slower than my goal, but I'd finished. That was all that mattered. I finished and I was happy, yet I felt bad for not finishing with Jim. His family told me that he had started his baby loop about five minutes before I finished.

Knowing Jim was still out there, I decided to go back to the last corner and wait for Jim to come into view. It wouldn't be official, but I was determined to finish with my friend. I half limped, half walked back to the final corner and sought out some shade right next to the arrow that had earlier ignited my spirits. I sat down and waited. And waited. I had no clue how long it would take Jim to finish his loop. I remembered how much I had suffered on my baby loop. A figured came into sight and I started to get up, but it was a girl coming in from her final large loop. I sat back down. I kept glancing at my watch. Finally Jim came into view. I jumped up, forgetting I'd just run 50 miles. I yelled for him as he ran toward me. I ran over to Jim, we shook hands briefly, and I said, "let's finish this." Jim had that familiar energy I'd felt earlier. I fell in beside him and matched him stride for stride as we raced toward the finish line. A few meters from the finish line, I gave him an easy shove in the back and peeled off to the left. Jim crossed the finish line and I walked around to congratulate him.

Jim was the 12th place finisher, roughly 25 minutes after me. I apologized to him for leaving him behind and in typical fashion, he brushed it off saying I did as I should have. We'd both accomplished our goal of finishing the 50 miler. Pain receding that night we were already talking about what was up next and returning for the race next year.

see the rest of the pictures here.