First Ultra!

I'd mentioned last week that I was going to participate in a 24-Hour Race, I did it and posted a result of 102km (a bit over 63 miles). I did it all walking, and under conditions that were a bit tougher than expected.

I started out using fairly good racewalk form and was cranking along pretty comfortably. I crossed the marathon mark at about 11PM and the 50K mark around midnight. I'd had some shoe trouble, so had changed shoes once in the early evening, from a training shoe to a full racer, the added flexibility seemed to help. I was wearing my Injinji TetraTsoks, and they seemed to help. I often have some friction trouble between toes, and the TetrasTsoks seemed to eliminate this. They did not, however, prevent shoe rub from causing trouble. I decided that a double sock strategy was in order, and put a second pair of light socks over the TetraTsoks. This strategy worked, and aside from the blister on the inside of my left heel, which had gotten underway while in the first shoes, I had no other blister trouble.

I expected that I was going to have trouble in the middle of the night, but the trouble I had then came from a different source than I expected - COLD! By deep in the night, I was moving poorly and am told that my speech was slurred. Dave Hoch, a friend and a member of the event staff, had stepped into the role of handler. Around 2AM, he convinced me that getting warm and getting some sleep was the appropriate course of action. I ate, drank, and went to sleep. When I was awakened by him after about an hour of sleep, it took me a while to get reassembled, and after what proved to be about a two-hour total interlude, I was back on the track. Dave walked a couple of laps with me, and I pointed out to him frost on the pole vault pads. He argued that it was just dew, but went to investigate and acknowledged that it was, in fact, frost.

At a bit past 5AM, the eastern sky began to show traces of blue. Finally, in what seemed like a long while later, the sun appeared through a clump of trees. Dave had departed shortly after dawn and told me that he didn't want to hear of me posting anything less than 250 laps. A bit later, still suffering from cold, I returned to my car to nap and warm up. An hour later, I was back on the track, and was again turning fairly respectable laps. Once the sun got started on its ask of warming, it came fast and hard. One bystander commented that I was soon going to disappear, as each lap, I became smaller as clothing came off.

I adopted a strategy of trying to take breaks every 10K (25 laps), and for a while was able to hold this. I'd walk, then eat and hydrate, then getback on the track. Around noon, it became clear to the event organizers that the festival atmosphere they had created wasn't doing much for the limited group of participants remaining, and asked those of us who were still there what was important to us. The result was we were left with lap counters, a water and ade table, and nothing more - everything necessary, and all we'd asked for. They reduced costs and impositions, and we had all we needed.

I should say a few words about "we". In the course of the night, it developed that there were two of us who were legitmately trying to go long. Me, and a young man from the host school. He had long hair, was wearing a pair of big bell-bottom jeans, a tee-shirt with a sweatshirt around his waist. He'd spent a lot of the night strolling slowly, reading a book. When I asked him his lap count in the morning, he told me 227 when I was at 181. That margin of differential held through the rest of the event. Around 2:30, with about an hour and a half remaining, we started to walk together. It was great to have company. The conversation kept my mind off the little aches and pains. My companion said the same. We closed out the day both making our goals, his was to walk the entire 24 hours, mine was to break the existing event record. I wanted to have the event record, but he'd earned it. His will to make his goal really impressed me.

I completed 255 laps, while the student posted a whopping 300 laps (120 km) or roughly 74.4 miles. My feet, legs and knees were sore. I had sunburn on my neck and the back of my hands and a blister a bit smaller than a quarter on the side of my left heel.

If I could pick out some lessons I learned, they'd be "be ready for cold" (in retrospect, I think the cold stopped my leg muscles from effectively propelling me) and "try to plan companionship."

Lack of Dietary Magnesium Implicated In Several Chronic Conditions

I saw an interesting article, related to magnesium deficiency and how it's related to many serious and insidious conditions. One of the keys to what I saw in the article was that many plant based foods are rich in magnesium. Now, I am posting this article with the caveat that I am unfamiliar with the author and the source, but from my quick read, it seems to be well documented and doesn't seem to amount to someone who would benefit from the advice dispensed, so I feel pretty confident that it is good quality info. You can find the article here. One of the more interesting points in the article is that it seems that a diet poor in magnesium can cause insulin resistance. This may have significant implications for type 2 diabetes sufferers and in the prevention of development of new cases.

My thinking on these kinds of issues is that if adding foods rich in magnesium and other micro- and macro-nutrients is a safe and effective way to potentially avoid serious health conditions, wouldn't we be foolish not to do this?

Ya Tryin' Ta Make Me Feel Bad?

This morning, as I was doing my run, something caught my eye. It was shortly after my turn on the 35 minute loop. I glanced to my right, wondering what seemed to be pacing me. It was another runner. He was on the sidewalk on the other side of the road, I was in the roadway. My greeting to him was, "Ya Tryin' Ta Make Me Feel Bad?" His laughing reply was, "I just started." My pace picked up a bit, and I said, "Ego won't let you beat me." We paced each other steadily until the final intersection before my turn, when he shouted, "Buh-Bye." I also said, "Good-Bye" to him. Training groups are great, even when they're just an accident of circumstance.

Haunted By An Idea

A couple of years ago, I saw an ad in Marathon and Beyond magazine for the Somerville Road Runners' Around the Lake 24-hour race. The idea of going for 24 hours straight intrigues me. I'm a decent walker and the prospect of potentially averaging a tad over 4 mph for a full day and covering 100 miles is magical.

I have no idea how my participation at Boston a tad under two weeks ago will impact this, but I've done some reading and talking to some ultra guys I know. I hope I've done adequate homework to get me through. The thing that worries me the most is the middle of the night, when the wolves will howl, the big cats prowl, and the mind is known to play tricks. (OK, this will be in central New Jersey, so I'm overdramatizing...the dogs will bark, the drunks will cuss, but the mind will still play tricks.)

I think the distance record at this event is a double marathon (about 52.5 miles) set last year (2005). I've mentioned this to several of my friends, and may have told someone whose actions may well keep me from grabbing off that mark for a year or two. I won't go into details, but will say that if this friend of my friend shows, he's a man who's tough and may, even at his advanced age (early 70's, I think), set a mark that would be very tough to beat. Of course, having him there would also be a great boon. Having someone to chase always helps my performance.

So, on Friday afternoon, at 4:00PM, I should begin to walk in this event. If my body holds up, I'll stop 24 hours later and tally my performance. I'm sure I'll be exhausted, but I'm hopeful that my preparation for the Boston Marathon and my forays into racewalking will pay dividends and I'll post a mark that I'll feel good about.

Feelin' Good

I did my 55 minute loop today and on the outbound leg was feeling a bit beat up and in sort of a whiney mood. For some reason as I turned, I decided to suck it up and try to get the legs turning quicker.

I don't know if that kind of thinking changed things, but very shortly, a bug flew into my left eye. I could see it, but couldn't find it to get it out. I poked, prodded, and pulled eyelashes as I ran. After a few hundred yards, I saw a woman walking and a man a bit ahead of her. I debated stopping and asking her to look at my eye to see if the bug was still in it. I decided against it.

I don't know if the bug helped change my mood, but as I passed the guy, he shouted something like, "You're running well!" I gave him a wave and kept grinding it out, now pumped by his cheering. As I was running, I heard the tick, tick, tick of crisp footstrikes on the pavement. Suddenly, it was one of those golden moments that happen all too rarely.

I finished up the loop still feeling strong. I went to a mirror and saw what looked like either a very small ladybug (or part of a larger one) a few millimeters from the lower lash of my left eye. I had completed the 55 minute loop in 54 minutes - I've done it faster, but just 8 days after a marathon says I'm really on the road back.

Sore Shoulder

My right shoulder is sore. My son recently started playing in the town's baseball league. Notice a pattern here? He starts to play and I wind up with a sore shoulder. Not only that, but the lawn is only half cut.

Yesterday afternoon, after the rain had abated, I went out to cut the grass. At every possible moment, I was being asked, "Daddy, will you throw me a few?" I kept relenting. I'll say that my son's catching ability is not very well developed, but I also know that the two things that will cure that are practice and coaching. I will do my part to make sure that he gets them. (Personally, I think that baseball is a lousy sport from a health and fitness point-of-view, but at least it's not couch time.) Most of baseball is standing around, and it's punctuated very occasionally by some upper body activity either preceded or followed by a sprint and an occasional very short jog.

Anyway, we chose to use a lacrosse ball yesterday to keep from having the damp grass soak a real ball. I'm glad to get to play, but I'm also glad he's in a track program.

Wheelchairs

Yesterday, I spent much of the morning pushing my sister in her wheelchair in our area's MS Walk For The Cure. Because of a severe storm, the route was shortened. My sister can walk, though only for very short distances. At this event, there were all sorts of MS sufferers, some diagnosed, but disability-free, others walking with aids like canes, still others in wheelchairs, some of whom don't have the ability to get out of their chairs readily.

Because she was inactive in the chair, my sister became very cold. As a result, she was encouraged to take a ride back to the start in order to avoid the risks of hypothermia. Events like this always serve as a reminder to me how lucky those of us who are able-bodied are to participate in physical activity.

In a piece of real wheelchair sporting news, Ernst Van Dyk failed in his quest to win four major marathons on four consecutive weekends. He'd alrady won Paris and Boston, and Seoul was on his agenda for next weekend, but first, he had to win London this weekend. Unfortunately, Van Dyk went into a technical section of the London Marathon too fast and crashed. I haven't heard anything of his condition, but suspect he's OK, becuase if he were seriously injured, that would have likely made the news.

Performance Matters

After my weak race at Boston, many people have said to me, "You've achieved your goal, you finished Boston!" My response has consistently been that while I completed it, I didn't complete it in the style I desired. I trained at a level that should have allowed me to finish the marathon in a 3:45 or thereabouts, instead I'm listed in the results with a finish of 4:13. Yes, I achieved my goal of running Boston, but to not saying that I disappointed myself would be a lie of omission.

In my twenties, I raced quite a bit, but I didn't train seriously. I had fun, but my racing was lousy. At the time, I didn't understand what it took to train right. In 1990, I trained seriously for my first marathon, the Marine Corps Marathon. I was running well, when I got to mile 18, I was feeling good. I decided to pick up the pace a little. At mile 23, I suddenly found the tank had run dry. I was on pace for a 3:25 marathon, but finished in 4:01. If I knew then what I know now, that 3:25 would be my PR. The marathon doesn't permit do-overs. There are no mulligans.

I'll never run with the big dogs, at age 46, and not having an endorphin rich body, I can't push at the levels that the top guys, even the top age group guys, can push. To me, that's OK. For me, there's one yardstick - ME! It should be the same with you. It isn't a question of whether I am better today than I once was. I know that I'm not in the shape I was in my mid-teens. The question is whether I perform at the level that my abilities AND training permit. At that, at Boston, I failed.

Performance matters, but it can only be judged relative to what we each can do. It's fun (though sometimes uncomfortable) to test your limits. Often those limits are more mental than physical. My weakness was mental, not physical. Last year, at Long Island, one of the messages I'd written on my hand was "pay the price", an in race reminder that the marathon, run well is never easy or comfortable. Somehow, I'd forgotten that truism and anticipated Boston, because it wouldn't have been as fast as Long Island, would be comfortable. My failure was to prepare myself for that discomfort. I'm disappointed because I should never have forgotten so basic a rule.

More Boston Fun!

Somewhere around the 22 mile mark on the Boston Marathon course, while walking along the right side of the roadway, I suddenly spotted the Boston Hash House Harriers offering beer. Naturally, they were set up on the left side of the roadway. I had to cross the entire course to get there. I took a beer from the last guy, commenting, "This things shot anyway, I might as well have a beer." The beer giver said something nice. They'd poured the beer in proper water stop fashion - 2 oz. in a 5 oz. cup (thrifty Yankee SOBs!). I downed it and was on my way. Something about doing the wrong thing made the misery more bearable. Thanks guys!

Wearing The Unicorn!

My running the Boston Marathon on Monday permits me to wear the unicorn of the Boston Athletic Association. I bought a jacket and here I am modeling it.

An Appropriate Use of Technology?

Several weeks ago, during our family ski trip, someone brought along a radically improved version of an old, ubiquitous novelty product. The mere concept of someone giving the time and energy to "improve" this product was both delightful yet puzzling. With my juvenile sense of humor, it was kind of funny, it also worked, and really well. The product was a self-inflating whoopee cushion. I did a quick search on the web and didn't find the exact one that was brought along, but the one in the link appears to be similar. From the standpoint of societal ethics, I think there are better things talented people could be doing than developing these kinds of things, but there is good that comes from a laugh.

Boston Marathon Hilarity

I suggested that my wife and son make this sign and display it at Boston. They did. During the race, there were lots of smiles, nudges of their buddies and pointing, and even a few laughs and comments.

Shouted At!

This morning, I went out for my run. I'd gone very short - probably 2 miles on Tuesday, then nothing yesterday. Today I did the "45 minute" loop. The legs still feel beat, but very little soreness. As I got into the run, I had to decide how long to run. Should I do the "35 minute" loop or the 45? Then I asked myself, what would the big dogs do (the guys whose blogs I read who i put in that category are Duncan Larkin and Mike Salkowski)? The answer was obvious, do the 45, so I did.

As I was nearing the end of my run, I heard a voice. It wasn't the "nice ass" guy. This guy was coaching! "Your hands are flopping all over. Hold 'em steady!" I shouted back, "Who are you?" (He looked a lot like a coach I know.) "Just a runner," was his reply. He moved ahead as the light changed, but got caught by the next red. I ran across and introduced myself, he did the same, we shook hands. From his comments, it was clear he knew a bit about running. It was a nice little exchange. It made me think a bit about the "community post".

Sisu

The Finns have a word, sisu (pronounced see-sue), which roughly translates into "guts." When Lasse Viren tumbled to the track in the 10,000 meters race during the 1972 Olympics, got up, rejoined the pack and went on to win, that was sisu. This Monday, at Boston, when Prokopcuka hammered while trying to chase down Jeptoo, that was sisu.

When I buckled under the cramping at mile 19, that was the opposite of sisu. As I've had more time to think about my race, and also more time to consider how I'm feeling, there is no doubt in my mind that I hadn't prepared myself well mentally. Last year at Long Island, I was ready to pay any price - injury, heat issues, etc. to get to Boston. After a year without a marathon and regarding Boston as a "victory lap," I realize that this year at Boston, when the going got tough, I chose the path of least resistance. I hadn't steeled myself to pay the price in pain that the Boston course often demands.

I didn't know how much Boston would hurt, and Vince Hemingson's comment to my last post, gives some idea of why. "The sheer numbers running and the ever changing grade make it nearly impossible to find a "groove" and stick it for an length of time. You always have to be vigilant about your pace. The downhills lure you on and the uphills catch you unawares. "Pace" is almost impossible to achieve." This short description does a good job of describing what Boston runners face. Duncan Larkin's take was, "The Boston course is one of the most deceiving and difficult major courses in the world. The hills come at the wrong time; then the flats mash you for the last 6 miles under the unrelenting, late afternoon sun." Together, you start to understand what a runner at Boston faces.

I had prepared myself physically for the marathon by doing the training, but hadn't prepared well enough mentally for it. In that area, I failed, and in doing so, compromised my experience at Boston. I can't change it, but I can know better for next time. Racing the marathon requires a tremendous level of mental toughness. Running one well takes a lot. Finishing one takes some. I was at that last level.

It's said that "the marathon will humble you." Boston taught me that lesson in spades. Don't take the marathon lightly, if you do, like me, you'll regret it. Having sisu requires preparation, and most of it is in the mind. I hadn't prepared adequately.

Why Couldn't Pheidippides Have Died Here?

This, according to legend, is what Frank Shorter asked Kenny Moore at mile 21 of the 1971 Pan-Am Games Trials Marathon (see Hal Higdon's relating of the story here - in the "determining the distance" section). For me, today, 21 miles would have been a good distance.

My first Boston Marathon is now done, and I have to say that I am disappointed. There are many possible causes, I was staying in my brother-in-law's house and due to that and some holiday issues, my diet had differed a bit over the last several days. I also started off by leaving Hopkinton and trying to hurl myself into the abyss. My first three miles were almost 5 minutes too fast*, I think as the result of an overload of adrenaline due to finally realizing my dream. I did manage to reel in my pace, but some damage was done.

Checkpoints were: 5K-24:24, 10K-49:02, 15K-1:14:03, 20K-1:40:37, Half-1:46:09, 25K-2:09:28, 30K-2:42:01, 35K-3:20:39, 40K - 3:59:54, Finish - 4:13:57 Projected finishes were: 3:26:53 at 10K, 3:33:18 at 21K, and 3:47:52 at 30K (these came off the e-mailed blog posts; on the marathon site, numbers were given every 5K, but I didn't get to see them).

As you can see, my pace eroded significantly in the second half of the race. I managed to keep mostly running up until about the 19 mile point, by by then, the tightening of my hamstrings and glutes was severere enough that I found myself going through the calculus of balancing a weak performance and two or three days of serious recovery against a better time (but still not great) and perhaps two weeks of debility. I chose the former. Had something I cared greatly about been on the line, I might have made the other choice. When I dropped to a walk, I used reasonable racewalking form and managed to crank out miles in the 12 or 13 minute time frame. Several times I tried returning to a run, but the discomfort was still there.

My wife and son were watching with my cousin and his family around mile 8.5. She was impressed with the crowds that were there and one of her questions was whether it was like that along the whole course. My answer was "yes". There were sections, especially early, where woods prevented easy access and those sections were empty. Aside from those areas, there were spectators along the entire course, steadily building as we approached Boston.

I was wearing my Shore AC singlet, so I got lots of "Go Shore!" (of course it's pronounced "Go Show-ah" in Bostonese). I got several "powerwalk" comments around Boston College, and I think they were respectful. I did manage to pull myself together and run most of the last mile, it probably only saved be 3 or 4 minutes, so it was mostly and ego thing...I wanted to cross the finish running.

My wife got inspired by being here and has announced that she wants to run another marathon (her previous on was in 1996 where she posted a mark just over five hours). I'm fearful that my son will start to feel like a orphan with two marathon parents. She also commented that my cousin's wife was impressed by how she picked out individuals to cheer on. I know that hearing my club's name (since I don't wear mine) goes a long way towards keeping me positive.

Finally, a few comments about the course: First, the steady downhills in the early part of the race are insidious. I think they were a contributor to my suffering. Heartbreak Hill is big, but really not too bad (especially if you're walking!). If you run the serious hills in the place you live, you'll manage it, though perhaps not without some discomfort. The scream tunnel at Wellesley College is wonderful, though it's now more of a "wall of sound" - barricades keep the co-eds on the south side of the road. There's a steady stream of hands offered for high-fives and more than a few "kiss me" signs. After passing, I commented to the runner beside me that my right ear hurt.

My friend Vince "Boston or Bust" Hemingson commented to me by voicemail that this was the hardest marathon he's run. He'll doubtless have some stories posted on his blog here. (Link to be added)

*When I passed the clock at the start, I was sure it said 12:xx, but the race is showing my offset at about 7:40 - I'm now thinking the clock was showing time of day as it also didn't seem to be moving much. The damage I did may have been less than I thought, but things like that hurt your mindset, and that impacts how you race. I may have to go back to wearing a watch.

Marathon Alert

110th Boston Marathon 2006

At 4:21 PM, Scooter has finished.
Pace: 06:02 per km
Finish Time: 4:13:57

Marathon Alert

110th Boston Marathon 2006

At 2:49 PM, Scooter at 30K.
Pace: 05:25 per km
Projected Finish Time: 3:47:52 (Net)

Marathon Alert

110th Boston Marathon 2006

At 1:53 PM, Scooter at 21K.

Pace: 05:04 per kilometer
Projected Finish Time: 3:33:18 (Net)

Marathon Alert

110th Boston Marathon 2006

At 12:56 PM, Scooter at 10K.

Pace: 04:55
Projected Finish Time: 3:26:53 (Net)

Thank You!

I have really been overwhelmed by the number of people who have gone out of their way to express their support for my running the Boston Marathon tomorrow. As noted, if everything works as hoped, you'll be seeing updates live (or at least fairly live) on the blog.

I am faced with a dilema, do I try to list those who've taken the time to express their good wishes? The problem is that the list is numerous enough that I'd doubtless leave some people out, so I think I'll say, "Thank you to all of you who have expressed good wishes or shared positive thoughts."

I will publicly express thanks to the following people for their extraordinary support as I worked towards the goal of qualifying for and running the Boston Marathon: my family, both immediate and extended; Arthur Lydiard and those who brought me together with him; Patti Dillon and the group of "has-beens" who helped this "never-was" achieve one of his dreams through their support, coaching and encouragement on the two incarnations of "the thread"; Randy S who gave me extraordinary support at the Long Island Marathon last year; the members of my running clubs (Shore AC, JSRC, and RVRR) and those in other clubs whose paths I've crossed; and the group of bloggers who have shared knowledge, sometimes knowingly and sometimes accidentallly. Finally, I'd like to than the students from Russell Elementary School in Missoula, MT who really touched me when they sent me a massive list of good wishes. I've left out many of you, simply because reading this list would rapidly become painful. If you weren't mentioned, believe me, your good wishes were much appreciated.

I hope to be able to acquit myself well tomorrow. I think most of you are aware that Boston holds a special place in my heart, and I think that tomorrow will make the place even more special. I'm nervous but at peace with myself.

I'd like to leave you with the following quote from George S. Patton:
If we take the generally accepted definition of bravery as a quality which knows no fear, I have never seen a brave man. All men are frightened. The more intelligent they are, the more they are frightened.

Have I Got Stories!

Too bad I'm not sharing most of them right now. I will say that yesterday was on a par with Friday night, and, being of a certain age, I got to meet more of the legends in whom I take a greater interest than the stars of today. I have to say that one of the highlights of today was getting to meet Kevin Hanson (who loved it when I asked if he and Keith were twins...Kevin is five years older and that question is apparently especially bothersome to Keith...brothers will be brothers!) and having him say that the collegial atmosphere of the 1970's GBTC (Greater Boston Track Club) was what they've been trying to replicate. For those of you who don't know, the Hansons run the most successful developmental program in the country. (I suspect some will argue, but to me, Hanson's beats the others because they take what is often mediocre appearing raw material and make them national and world class...most of the other programs start with athletes that are much more proven.)

I'm antsy about the race, but there is a kind of calm - acceptance, I guess, that what's going to happen will happen.

And It Never Seems To Get Closer!

One of the landmarks at the Boston Marathon is the Citgo Sign. I understand that you can see it for a long way, and as a runner, since you know you will pass it, you tend to focus on it. I've been told that when you first see it, you start marking time until you pass it, but it often seems not to get any closer. It just sits out there and taunts you, then you finally pass it, with less than a mile to the finish.

Note: I've edited this post a bit since the original version. What impressed me during the race was how low the sign seemed when it first came into view. I also spoke to some other runners who said that the same kind of effect can happen when you make the final turn from Hereford St onto Boylston St. The finish is a significant distance away and if you look at it, it seems to approach painfully slowly. It seems best to just focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

A Wonderful Evening

Immersion therapy! I find that when I run a goal race, when possible, immersing myself in a running environment as thoroughly as possible tends to help me keep my head right for the race. I'd seen some information about an event that was to be taking place at Niketown Boston. When meandering down Newbury St. with my wife and son, we stumbled upon Niketown, and the event was this evening. My son wanted to go because he's a big Meb fan, and Meb was one of the featured athletes. The "lightweights" (by my son's yardstick) included Alan Culpeppper, Joan Benoit Samuelson, and Jelena Prokopcuka. My son got cards autographed by Keflezighi and Culpepper and we took his picture with them. (When I told him they were the two best American male marathoners, he suddenly seemed quite impressed.)

After a brief informational pitch by the Nike people, each of the athletes spoke and it was followed by a question and answer period. My favorite question came from a young woman, who is a college student and runs about 25 miles per week. She asked how to qualify for Boston, and Joan was asked to respond. He answer was clear and simple, volume, with quality. My favorite response also came from Benoit, when asked about viewing courses ahead, she indicated that the time involved in driving a course can sometimes be intimidating and that sometimes, by not knowing, she was willing to make a bold move and reap a great result because sometimes "ignorance is bliss."

This morning, the Boston Globe had a special marathon section. It was primarily a look at the resurgence in American marathoning. It profiled the Hanson's program out of Michingan (which Brooks sponsors) and both Meb and Culpepper. When riding the train into Boston this morning, there was a copy of the globe on one of the nearby seats, so I'd picked up the special section. When it came out that Alan Culpepper hadn't seen it, I gave it to him (and he, passed it to someone else, I think it turned out to be Meb's brother). There were quite a few other "big dogs" of the running world there. It was a wonderful event.

When I was around the finish line this afternoon, the bridge had aready been erected, though it had yet to be dressed in its banners. At the start last night, there were reviewing stands or something similar already up. Tomorrow, I'll go to the expo and pick up my bib. I also have plans for a few beers with some running friends. I'm feeling good.

In Marathon Country

Yesterday afternoon, my family and I travelled up to the Boston area. We're staying at my brother-in-laws' house in Holliston, right near the start. In fact, as we drove in, we went through Hopkinton, passing the starting line. I'm getting really antsy. Today, we're sightseeing in Boston. Tomorrow, I'll get pick up my bib and attend a bunch of race related events. On Sunday, we'll probably get together with some family and hang out (no touch football!). Then, I'll get driven to the start at about 10:15. That should get me there about 1 1/2 hours ahead of the start. Then, I'll race, we'll get out of town and back to New Jersey on Monday night.

Bicycle Fartleks and the Insanity of Tapering

Those of you who are runners know that's not something off color, for any of you who don't, fartlek is a word taken from Swedish? that means speed play. This morning, while running my five miles, I suddenly heard the tik-tik-tik combined with the sssss that signal a nearby bicycle in my right ear. I turned to see a man, wearing a backpack, riding a too-small bike towards the train station that was about a half-mile up the road. His pace was very casual, perhaps 9 or 10 mph, and we were approaching one of the several small hills along this route. I decided it was fartlek time. He had 50 feet on me by the time I kicked up the leg turnover, but knew I could close on the hill. I kept up the pace, fading ever so slightly until he hit the foot of the climb. As he climbed, I started reeling him in. Steadily, gradually, the distance dropped. By the time he crested the hill, I was just about 15 feet back. He then accelerated as gravity again became his friend, since on the downhill, it would do most of the work. I stayed close, and as I passed the parking lot for the train, he was locking up his bike.

I always find tapering to be a maddening experience. It's one of the reasons why I like to keep my taper short, just two weeks, as compared to the oft recommended three. I find the reduction of activity to be tough, not just because it affects how you think of yourself as a runner, but also because the liggle niggles that you get (my lower back is a bit tight, my left knee has "popped" a few times, and I have occasional twinges in my legs) all make you ask, "Is this the thing that will keep me from finishing Boston?" In your mind, you know they're nothing, but the question marks keep flying around. In this post, my friend, Vince Hemingson gives his very insightful take on tapering.

Yesterday, I ran in a park, in the area where the gunman was in this post. I tried to get in a good mix of hills and flats, mostly on trails (and spending a fair amount of effort dancing through exposed roots). Near the end of my run, I picked up a baseball, in good shape, to add to my son's arsenal. It was great to be cruising through the woods, away from cars (though for much of the run, the steady drone of the nearby interstate could be heard).

TEST: Verizon Wireless Athlete Alert

04/11/2006 11:03

TESTING registrant Scooter

(I've edited this post slightly, by taking out my real name and replacing it with Scooter, my nom de blog - after about an hour delay, the test posting came through, as you can see! Now, I have reasonable confidence that this system will work! - This post also relates to this effort.)

Testing E-Mail Blogging #2

It appears that the Boston Marathon's "send a test message" service is the cause of the problem. E-mails from me appear, and will now publish automatically.

Note: This odd post relates to my efforts described here.

Testing E-Mail Blogging

This is a test transmission from me to find out if the failure (or slow response) is with the marathon or with Blogger's service.

(I had to publish this post manually - there must be a need to change a setting.)

Note: This odd post relates to my efforts described here.

Boston Marathon: A Grand Experiment

At the Boston Marathon (as well as at some other marathons), a service is provided which will automatically e-mail your progress to people you know as you pass checkpoints along the course. Well, since it's possible to e-mail blog submissions, I expect that it's possible for me to submit my blog submission e-mail to the marathon and have automatic posts of my progress made on my blog. I've tried to get this set up this morning, and hope I am successful. It's a fun way to tie two technologies together.

For those of you who watch, my goal at Boston is to run about a 3:45, but I am slightly undertrained, so I think I may fade a bit in the last few miles. Should that happen, then the hope is to still keep the total time under the four hour mark. If they provide the type of information they have offered on their website, then at 10K (6.2 miles), the half-marathon (21.1 km or 13.1 miles), 30K (18.6 miles), and the finish (42.2 km or 26.2 miles), you'll be able to view my progress and also see a predicted finish time. If my expectations hold up, my predicted finish will erode slightly late in the race, but if I am wise enough to run a controlled pace, that erosion will be small.

If it takes the 10 minutes predicted for wave 1 to cross the start and I'm at the back end, that should mean that I will actually start at 12:10PM (EDT), but I suspect that for reasons of TV coverage, they will actually fire the gun at 12:03 or 12:05. Thus, the first update, at 10 km, should be posted shortly after 1:06 PM; the second update, at the half-marathon point, should be posted after 2:04 PM; the third, at 30 km, should come after 2:51 PM; and, if I hold together well, my finish should be posted after 3:56 PM.

I have entered two addresses and attempted to have test transmissions sent. Thus far, neither has appeared. This doesn't bode well for the likelihood of success with this experiment with technology.

Follow-up posts here, here, and here have made me more confident that this will work. I'm just not so sure how timely the information will be. (It will let you see what I do MUCH faster than if I had to enter it after the race. I expect to spend a fair amount of race evening semi-comatose being driven back home.)

Bausch & Lomb Pulls ReNu

I had posted about the apparent link between fungal eye infection in contact lens wearers and Bausch & Lomb's Renu lens care product. Last night, B&L stopped shipping the product. Any of you using the product should probably talk to your eye doctor about what to do now. (If my understanding is right, this is not a recall, though it may well turn into one if evidence of tainted product is found.)

Different Outfits!

I took this picture last year at the ING New York City Marathon. While Ramalaa's (the guy in 2nd) shorts are obscured, they were the sam as Tergat's (in first) and also the same as Meb's (who was in third, but no longer in contact when this photo was taken). (A better shot illustrating this can be found here.)

The World Marathon Majors held a press conference and announced that at London this year, the leaders would be wearing different outfits. The folks at Let's Run have published the outfits here (note: PDF format). It should mean that, except in the unlikely event of a surprise winner, any viewer with an outfit chart can pick out who is who. Like the way jockeys at the horse track wear different colored silks, this will make it easy to tell the competitors apart.

I hope this starts a trend, it will make telling the athletes apart much easier for the spectators, especially those less familiar with the appearance of the athletes.

DKXMinge Club

This morning, as I ran my last fairly long run before Boston, the park I run through was jammed with triathletes. They seemed to be competing in an informal race. As I ran out of the park, I asked a woman, stationed at the entry to the park if this was a race. "No, just an informal get together." I then asked what the club was, and after a longer than normal pause, what I heard was, "DKXMinge Club."

I have a suspicion that she was CYAing. My guess is that they held a club race without authorization, and she was stonewalling me, in case I was going to make an issue of things.

I ran for about an hour and 45 min (I'd guess 12 to 13 miles). A bit later, the three guys from my town who are running the Boston Marathon got together on the track and had our picture taken. I'll submit it to the local newspaper. We're all first-time Boston qualifiers, so this is pretty special for us.

No Sugar, Sherlock!

I had to use that title! Well, I wanted to use it in its normal form, but I felt decency wouldn't allow. Anyway, thanks to the good folks at RBF, I found this post, with the most basic of Boston advice (but well and clearly laid out), and since it comes from a guy whose last name is Sherlock, my juvenile sense of humor demanded the title. Anyway, my feeling is it's never a bad thing to be reminded of the basics. Thank you Mr. Sherlock.

Community

Today, I'm going to pontificate about community, and especially the running community. Now, no decent post relating to a word would be complete without a definition, so I visited Merriam Webster for a quick visit to my favorite online dictionary. Without copying the whole definition, we find 3 main definitions:
1: a unified body of individuals
2: society at large
3: joint ownership or participation / common character / social activity or state
Now, what is meant by the running community? Is it just current runners? Do former runners count? What about racewalkers? (Racewalking is an olympic sport governed by USATF in the USA and IAAF internationally.) Are ordinary walkers included? And, since we share bond of self-propulsion (and a similar level of common danger in the careless driver), what about cyclists? My point here isn't to belabor the definition, suffice to say, I tend to define the community of runners rather broadly.

I try to foster the sense of community when I can. I wave to other runners, say hello when I can. Try, if possible to share a nice or amusing thought. And try not to belittle the efforts of others. One thing I remember was Grete Waitz commenting after she ran the New York Marathon with a cancer-ridden Fred Lebow on how grueling it was for her to run at that (slow) pace. Those runners (and walkers) who are moving slower than you are may well be undergoing a more grueling personal test than any you'll ever face. I try to support them with a smile and a kind word.

Over the years, many runners have been very generous to me with their gifts, sharing motivation, advice, tips and coaching just to name a few. I've been blessed to have them share with me and I try to give back often. Many times it's in little ways, but I try to do several bigger things each year as well.

When pledging my fraternity in college, we learned a poem entitled "The Bridge Builder." You can find the poem here, go to the section titled "Closing" and you'll find the poem followed by an interesting story about the poet. It's worth a read and conveys the sense of obligation we should all feel toward our fellow runners (and neighbors/friends/men).

This post was inspired by a comment to my Open Letter of a few days back. If I understand correctly, it was aimed at Dirt Runner (and I'll try to get it to his attention). In it, the anonymous poster does an excellent job of describing the gift that he (she?) received from those mentoring him (her?) in his (her?) charity marathon program. An excerpt follows:

"(I) didn't know any other runners in my area that would run my pace or help me succeed in my dream of running a marathon. Saw the ad and joined a charity. I worked hard, very hard to get ready for my marathon. I ran 3 days during the week on my own and the long run on the weekend with the group. They kept me going when I was sore, tired, and not sure I could do it."

We are a community. Help your community to progress by teaching those around you a better way to do something. If they do something wrong on the track, teach them the right way (and at most tracks, normal practice is that faster runners get the inside lane, but passers move outside - if you're about to be passed, DON'T EVER STEP OUT AT THE LAST INSTANT! - it's a formula for collisions). Share your gifts with others - you never know when a small act will make a big difference to someone!

Rollin', Rollin', Rollin'

Last night, I was feeling really tight, so I headed down to the high school track with my son. I wanted to get some strides in just to get in some activity to loosen up. As we pulled up, my son said, "There are people going around the track in wheelchairs." Sure enough!

It turned out that the local rehab hospital had brought their kids down to begin practice for the wheelchair racing season. Some of them really went, others just crept around, then there were the one on crutches or in walkers. All were working hard, trying to improve. Aside from some physical limitations, they're just like you or me - just trying to improve themselves.

It was nice to see, and I think my son learned a bit (though he seemed awfully interested in the mechanics of knocking down hurdles).

Fungus Among Us Contact Lens Wearers

Recently, I heard about a fungal infection involving a fungus called fusarium which can potentially blind those unfortunate enough to get it and who don't seek treatment quickly. I've linked to a US News & World Report article, but there are many out there. (It seems like many are based on the AP story that this article is based on.) Apparently, the government of Singapore (and possibly Hong Kong) has reason to believe that this problem is related to Bausch & Lomb's ReNu contact lens care product. My instinct says that any of you who use ReNu may want to talk to your eye-care professional about changing lens care regimens (perhaps to one less convenient, but possibly safer) until this issue is resolved. Note that while the AP story leads you to believe that the problem is a tropical one, I saw a report (I think aired on WNBC-TV) that indicated that a northern New Jersey doctor has diagnosed six cases.

A Missed Nuance

Those of you who haven't read my Open Letter to Vince Hemingson from yesterday, please read it before you continue.

Today, after reading a discussion between Allen Leigh and Vince, I posted the following on Vince's blog:

Vince,
I have to say that I agree with you that those who make a charitable donation THEMSELVES and do not go to the effort to collect from others violate the intent of the BAA. Imagine the money they could collect if (and I think it's likely) their friends are of similar means. I stand by my point that they are there within the rules, but I do have to agree that while not violating the letter of the rules, they violate the spirit. Perhaps Boston should require the charitable fund raisers to provide a copy of their tax return and the charitable money raised for Boston must be 5% or more of their last year's income. (OK, it's an unrealistic thing, but it makes you wonder how much more good could be done?)

Meantime, I think we can both walk away winners in this debate. I've agreed that those who simply buy their way in, without the work of either training to qualify or the labor of making the (fundraising) ask, are, to some extent, tainted in their participation.

I win the point that in most cases, the bona fide "good works" of many of the charitable runners does make their toeing the line at Hopkinton legitimate.

I'd also like to publicly thank those who weighed in on this debate, especially Allen Leigh, who managed to pick up on the nuance that I'd missed. (The difference between writing a check and collecting for charity.) Thank you all.

Wayne

I enjoy a good debate / argument, especially when it's conducted in gentlemanly fashion. I hope we all learned a bit about this issue and how other people think about it. Again, thank you to all who weighed in on this subject.

A Magic Moment

Sometimes, there are seminal moments when a torch is passed from one generation to another. Sometimes it happens publicly, like with Abebe Bekila winning the marathon at Rome (see this recent post from DirtRunner), or privately, as in the case mentioned in this article from The Star Ledger on the passing of Mrs. Sid Gleason, when Mrs. Gleason and her husband, Bob, facilitated the meeting of an old, disabled folk singer, Woody Guthrie, and a young, guitar playing fan of his from Minnesota who'd go on to fame as Bob Dylan. This meeting, which is the stuff of legends, is well known among fans of both musicians. These magic moments happen, and often those who witness them (or participate) don't recognize their specialness until months or years later.

Public Health

For all the talk about public health, here's an excellent article I'd seen recently that gives a look into some of the work done by public health nurses. I'd like to say "Thank You" to The Star Ledger for providing some excellent insights into this very important, underfunded, and largely forgotten specialty. The article is worth a read, but I think they take them down after about 2 weeks.

The article provides a very small glimpse into the history of public health. Those of you who want to know more may want to look up the following terms: Jane Addams, Progressive Movement, Jacob Riis, Ida Tarbell, and Lincoln Steffens. You might aslo find the Tenement Museum website of interest.

An Open Letter To Vince Hemingson

I had posted recently about the excellent informational quality of the materials provided by the Boston Marathon. In his Boston or Bust blog, Vince Hemingson made this post, where he vents about it being improper for charity runners run the Boston Marathon without qualifying. My response follows:

Vince,

My Boston story begins in 1972, when, as a 13 year-old boy, I watched a man named Frank Shorter run and win the Olympic Marathon at Munich. That evening, over dinner, I told my father, who knows virtually nothing about running, about this unfathomably long race. He, a product of Beantown, told me, "There's one marathon run in this country every year, and it's at Boston." That evening, I vowed to run the Boston Marathon.

Since that time, I've run on my high school's teams; been discouraged from walking on to my college team; been fat and thin several times; got married, and began raising a child. I've seen the running boom of the 1970's and seen the rise of big city marathoning. Through it all, I've had the dream of Boston.

At times, I thought the dream was dead. In 1990, I ran the Marine Corps Marathon, finishing in 4:01 and sitting down within sight of the Iwo Jima Memorial at Arlington, VA with tears in my eyes. Three years later, I again completed Marine Corps, in a worse time, and with less training. Three years after that, I supported my wife as she ran Marine Corps, back trouble having ended my training that year.

In the fall of 2003, having set my sights on Boston, I ran two marathons separated by just four weeks. The first was at Mystic Places, where, while sick, I ran a 3:45, missing my qualifying for Boston 2004 by 25 minutes and for 2005 by 15 minutes. Four weeks later (and likely not fully recovered), I went to Philadelphia and ran a 3:39, missing the marks by 19 and 9 minutes. My 2004 training was interrupted by a terrible bout of plantar fasciitis, but that proved a blessing because the time off from running caused me to do some things that resulted in meeting and being advised by legendary coach Arthur Lydiard. Four weeks after receiving Lydiard's advice, he passed away.

Consumed with the desire to honor Lydiard's faith in me as an athlete, I trained harder than I ever had in my life. The volumes were not large by elite standards, but the plantar fasciitis was not well controlled and the pain was brutal at times. In the spring of 2005, I ran the Long Island Marathon, struggling with a different set of problems, but finishing in 3:29, good enough to punch my ticket to Boston!

I now had 50 weeks until I'd achieve the dream. I just had to stay healthy and maintain a reasonable volume of training. Through it all, I'd known there were ways to get into Boston without qualifying, but for me, as for a great many other runners, the value of Boston is its perceived exclusivity. For those of us who regard ourselves as serious runners, getting to Boston any way except by qualifying is tainted. It is a judgement we make for ourselves, for others who go to Boston in other ways, they're legitimate, too. It's just not the route we choose.

Years ago, three marathons mattered internationally, Boston, Fukuoka, and Kosice. Today, it's five (maybe six), Boston, London, Berlin, Chicago, (perhaps Fukuoka,) and New York. Qualifying standards have been loosened at Boston from what they were in the 1970's. Today, virtually every major city in the United States (and most in Canada and Europe) has a marathon. Marathoning has become a popular sport, with many participants walking them. Charity marathoning did not exist when my dream of toeing the starting line at Hopkinton began. Times change, and we must change with them.

Vince, you call the charity runners at Boston cheaters. I have to disagree. Charity runners gain entry fairly, under the rules. In the days when you and I were toddlers, anyone could have run Boston by certifying that they were 18 years old, male, and not getting yanked at the start by Will Cloney or Jock Semple. That changed with the institution of qualifying standards in the 1970's. You run the race under the rules in effect at the time. Did the old-timers run less of a race because there wasn't qualifying? They probably ran more of a race because they had to train while being regarded as quacks and oddballs.

Boston is special because it is Boston. Special because it has 109 years of history. Special because it grew from the Athens Olympics of 1896. Special because of the great champions; the two Johnny Kelleys, Clarence DeMar, Bill Rodgers, Joan Benoit and Uta Pippig. Special because of those who struggled to become champion without achieving that pinnacle. Special because K.V. Switzer's boyfriend kept her number from being torn off. Special because the millions of fans lining the roadsides make it special. It's special because the co-eds at Wellesley scream like we're rock stars. Boston is special because in our hearts and minds it's special. If the B.A.A. keeps doing their job, nothing will ever change that. I have no issue with those who toe the line because they raised money for charity. I'm proud to have earned the right to wear the Unicorn and am extra proud because I did it the hard way.

As John F. Kennedy said, "We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win."

Vince, for you and me, qualifying was hard; for most of the charity runners, merely completing Boston will be hard. Their struggles do not diminish our achievements, frankly, they probably burnish them. After all, you and I will probably finish an hour and a quarter (or more) behind the winners at Boston. We know how we struggled to achieve what we've done, the work the leaders put in borders on unfathomable to us. Imagine how the charity runners think of what you and I will have done. Enjoy the experience of Boston without the vitriol of anger. It should be the most special day of your running life.

Wishing you a fast and not-too-painful race,

Wayne Baker

Fire In The Belly and Some Odds and Ends

Ah yes, there's fire in the belly. The belly of my calf muscles. Yesterday's long run made them pay a heavy price - nothing too severe, but it'll be a few days until this passes. Added to the soreness that had just ended from Wednesday night's track time, I'll be spending a week with soreness in the legs. It's something I should probably have most of the time - stress and recover, and I've probably been a bit lax about applying sufficient stress.

One of the stresses that I applied yesterday was pushing a bicycle. Mike's comment on my post of yesterday reminded me that I'd done this. As I was returning from running over the ridge north of my house, I came upon a cyclist on a recumbent bike. He was out for his first real long ride of the season and had been stopped by a long shallow hill. When I first saw him up the road, I thought he was an adult on a kid's BMX bike, but as I got closer, he got off for a break and a drink. I said, "It's embarassing when the runner beats the biker." He made some kind of good-natured reply and was getting back on as I passed him. I decided to help him and turned around to get behind him and push him up the rest of the hill. As I was doing this, I was passed by another runner going the same way. As I pushed, I remarked that he was a bit older then the 7 year-old I often push. I pushed him to the crest of the hill, where gravity would give him an edge. He thanked me and rolled ahead. As we were descending the hill, yet another runner was climbing the other way, making four non-motorized travellers on this stretch of roadway. I commented to the facing runner that we had a regular traffic jam there.

I'm unsure of my distance yesterday, nor do I really care. It was a good workout, totalling about 3 hours and it will be my last before Boston. I'd told my son that he rode about five miles, but in retrospect, I think it was more, making my run probably somewhere between 18 and 20. I ran my 35 minute loop this morning, and on the beat legs, it only took 38 minutes, but isn't easy effort what recovery days are about?

Playing With The Hand You're Dealt

As in poker, or life, in the marathon, you can't control the cards you're dealt. You got to play with the hand you're dealt. The classic "uncontrollables" for a racer are the weather, the course, and the competition. Aside from electing to scratch from a race, there's nothing you can do about any of them to change them. You can mitigate their effects by learning the course, by dressing for the weather, and by knowing your competition, but you can't change them.

In yesterday's post, I said, "The thing that's haunting me right now is the prospect of a radical weather change somewhere in the last 5 miles of Boston. The race booklet pointed out that an onshore breeze can mean a significant temperature drop virtually anywhere from Heartbreak Hill onward."

Mike Salkowski commented, "Remember what you told Duncan about not racing the clock when he was griping about the weather!" My comment to Duncan Larkin, prior to this year's Napa Marathon was intended to make him realize that no matter how crappy the conditions, his race was against the other competitors, NOT against the clock.

My immediate reaction was "the situations are completely different," but as I thought about it further, they're quite similar. Both require the recognition that self-doubt is an incredibly corrosive influence on racing and the elimination of that doubt through developing a plan that gives the athlete the confidence that they'll be able to handle the situation as it develops.

He's where being an old coot can come in handy. Back in the 1980's, I did a fair amount of cycling. I have a reasonable grasp on cycling history, and I realized that in cycling, I had the model for coping with this situation, should it develop. Imagine, if you will, riding up a mountain as part of the peloton in a cycling race. You're working hard to keep with your group, and even though it's only 55 degrees, you're sweating profusely as you grind up the last kilometers at 12 mph. As you crest the hill, you know that the sweat soaking your jersey is going to feel like you've just jumped into a cold pond as you suddenly accelerate to 50 mph as you begin your descent. The old-time bikies used to grab a newspaper from a spectator and shove it into their jersey where it functioned as a windbreaker. There's my plan! It's simple, and whether it proves to be a newspaper, a plastic bag or something else, I now know that I can cope with that situation, should it develop. The corrosive doubt is gone!

Whatever hand I'm dealt at Boston, I'm ready.

My Last Long Run

The shift to daylight time combined with my wife having a meeting conspired to interrupt my training this morning. My son has been on a biking kick, so I used that to my advantage and got him to change and I continued my run with him. We headed up my road to the edge of town, cut to one of the main roads from town and used it to take us up to a park. From there, we went into another park, the community college, then headed home. Aside from one "going down on a curb" incident, the ride went well for him. He seems to be getting his confidence back after a long winter without riding. I'd left the house at about 8:45 AM and returned at 12:25 PM, but before any of you go crazy at the apparent 3 hour and 40 minute run, understand that it was interrupted by 15 to 25 minutes of trying to get my son ready to ride.

After the run, I cooked and ate some waffles (my wife had made the batter before the meeting), then crashed for about 3 hours, drifting in and out of consciousness as the TV ran last year's regional Ironman Triathlons. I'm now feeling pretty good, though my pf in the right foot is a bit twingey. (OK, probably not a word, but it works!)

The long workout does give me reasonable confidence that I'll get through Boston without undue difficulty. The thing that's haunting me right now is the prospect of a radical weather change somewhere in the last 5 miles of Boston. The race booklet pointed out that an onshore breeze can mean a radical temperature drop virtually anywhere from Heartbreak Hill onward. The prospect of having run 21 miles in 70 degree weather, then suddenly hitting 50 degrees is intimidating. There's no point to worrying, but it's something I should watch for as I check the weather channel on race morning.

(By the way, the new "Coutdown to Boston" counter on the right seems to be working right, but I'm wondering if it shows the right time to viewers in other time zones. If any of you who read this from time zones other than Eastern Daylight Time would be kind enough to comment, leaving the time you visited, your time zone, and what you saw displayed, and an estimate is OK, I'd appreciate it. I have a suspicion that the countdown picks up your computer's clock time and calculates, without adjusting for time zones, the time until the noon EDT start on April 17th, meaning that the display will be an hour behind if you're in the Central time zone and three hours off for those of you on the west coast. Thanks for any help.)

My New Countdown 'til Boston

I visited Mike Power's Love2RunCanada blog and admired his countdown timer. He invited me to copy it, so I installed it and was immediately puzzled by the apparent appearance of an incorrect time. Then it struck me, the differential of an hour was appearing in order to compensate for the transition tonight to daylight saving time. I got it installed, and it seems to be working OK...but Mike's clock differs from mine by two hours. Now, I'm trying to figure out if Mike manually compensated for both daylight time and his being on Atlantic Time (versus the Eastern Time) that I, along with Boston, am on. I think a brief discussion with Mike is in order. Thank you, Mike, for your support.

A Monster Workout

Too bad it wasn't mine!

Last night, after work, I headed up to the kids track group I help coach. After the workout, I started circling the track. At one point I was joined by a guy, probably a decade younger than I am who is training for a 10K leg of a triathlon relay. We ran a couple of laps together, chatting as we went.

While doing this, another guy was running drills on the field. He'd sprint out, rest and sprint back, repeating this cycle several times. Then, he'd launch into a variant, sprint out, the brief rest, then backwards running to return. After a bit of this, he moved onto the track. For whatever reason, after a short warmup, travelling in the normal (counter-clockwise) direction, he reversed his direction and began hammering out about two miles at what I'd estimate was about a 6:00 pace. He then returned to the normal direction, did a few that way, and then went back to the field to repeat his out and backs. I interrupted his workout and asked him what he was training for, his response, "Nothing right now, but I probably run some races in the summer." As we talked further, he told me that he coaches soccer and lacrosse here in town and lives in one of the neighboring towns. He seems like a nice guy, and he wears a beard reminiscent of many of the monsters of road racing back in the 70's.

When I left, he was still grinding it out. I suspect I'll see him on the roads and know that mine will be one of the butts getting kicked. He'll have earned it (as most fine athletes do), by grinding it out at the times when nobody's watching.

My workout was about 2 miles of probably 7:30's followed by some racewalking in order to keep that form from completely disappearing. My thighs were still sore after my 200's on Wednesday. (And when I groaned about that to one of the high school track team members who volunteers with the youth running group, he laughed and said, "that'll happen." All of us who've been there know the experience.)

It looks like we're facing a great weekend here in the northeast. I'm looking forward to my road time.