When the Season Ends

Every year I reach a point at the end of the season where it hits me. I'm not going to win a race this year...

I'll be in the middle of some workout one day and it will just come to me. I'm not exactly an epic planner- I sort of just plod along through the season, especially after my a-race is gone- so it's not about knowing that I'm planning to do races I can't win (besides Christopher Martins of course), but rather just a sort of intuition. That was last Saturday. I went riding with two of my Force 5 teammates and the weather had just turned colder. I had an OK ride, but not great and as always happens when the temperature first takes a 15-20 degree drop, I felt winded at the top of the biggest climbs.

But it was on the brick run afterwards that I had the thought. I was running easy, either because I was half-planning to race the next day or because I just didn't have much- I'd gone hard when I was sick earlier in the week, an unusual cold. But as I was running down along the water backwards on the Branford Road Race course I thought about how I just wasn't going to win any races this year. I'd come short at Brian's and really not even had any races that I'd had much of a shot at- I'd hardly raced before Placid and after Placid I'd run three USATF championship races- one a National Championship- and done three triathlons.

I'm not sure what I expect anyway. i'm 45 years old. Why am I even thinking about winning races at this age ? And what difference does it make. Maybe I'll never win another race...

Sunday I had two options, running 75 minutes at 0700h or waiting and running a 3.5 mile 'trail' race at 10AM.

I got up a little after 6, read my email, looked at the weather, played some games and decided that the race was better option. But I wanted to be good and warmed up, and Margit was going to meet me at the race about half an hour before the start so it wasn't going to happen before the race, not with day of registration and so on. So Itried something I had never done before.

I did Spinervals, Aero Base Builder III, an hour long aerobic-effort spin session from 0715-0815. I got a good spin in- my muscles were warm and loose, and I finished the workout ready to go.

I got to the race about half an hour before the start, registered, exchanged Ian, and started warming up.

Because of the spin I was in good shape. I just needed to do strides. I walked my stuff down to Steve Surprise's house and started doing strides. This gave me a chance to evaluate the other people that were there. While it wasn't a deep crowd- just about 150 people, there were two guys I were pretty sure I didn't have to worry about because I would have no chance of beating them, younger guys, taller, leaner, the right type of equipment. That took a little bit of the edge off.

The race started though, and it didn't go the way I thought. Right off the bat, I got an idea exactly how the race was going to be. There was one guy ahead of me- grey-haired, probably around 50, and me.

I settled in behind him as we ran away from Tommy Sullivan's and towards the park.

I didn't want to take the lead early, so as we followed the police car into the Supply Pond, I hung right on him. It was a good pace, I was running hard but I felt like there was room for more.

Then we turned off the road to the left, running across the field that leads to the trails just inside the Supply Pond. For some reason the other runner took the left hand side of the field which I didn't understand because the righthand side was the shorter path. I decided it was time to make my move.

I went by the guy guy on his right and burst into the trail in the woods.

I run well on trails, especially trails like the ones in the Supply Pond that are not technical. After attending Eric Hodska's Lake Placid Camp in June and picking my way over rocks, stumps, and running in stream beds, the flat lazy trails in the Supply Pond are not a challenge. I opened up my stride and started running with as much authority as I could, because that's all that trail running really is. It's running confidently.

I established my lead right away and put the hammer down. Now that I was out in front, just a day off knowing- knowing- I wasn't going to win any races this year, I knew there was only one approach that I could take, and that was to take the lead and run with it.

At about a mile, I got some bad directions and started down the wrong path. The volunteer blocking the path I was supposed to take seemed a little bit offended that I went the wrong way, but it was no harm no foul and I was able to get back on course without giving the lead up. After that I was on trails I know pretty well and I expanded my lead steadily. I never looked back, never listened for the other runners, but I could tell I was comfortably off the front. I still ran as though the rest of the field was bearing down on me though.

I made the two mile mark up a hill and started back towards the way we'd come in. I was feeling good, running hard in in control of the race. Then on the way back out a rotund runner who a late mid packer still only at about a mile said 'You're going the wrong way'. While it was true that I was going the opposite direction of the way the people headed out were going, the course is an out and back, and therefore I was not going the 'wrong way', I was just a lot faster than this guy. Still, having never done the race, I stopped, panicked.

That lasted about one second. Then my brain caught up. Was I running the wrong way ? Probably not. If I was, could I fix it by turning around ? No. I started running again, harder to make up the lost time and also because I was a little mad.

As I wound my way back I knew I'd made the right choice. I broke out of the woods back into the field. There was a van waiting for the first runner- me- and I followed it back onto the tarmac.

I went through 3 miles in 18:07. I then hit the 5K mark and from that point it was uphill. I moderated my effort until I could see the finish line and then I went for it.

I won the race by 25 seconds.

I got a nice trophy and a big shoutout is owed to @soundrunner as they provided a 100.00 gift certificate.

The lesson I learned is you can't make assumptions about the direction of your season until December 31st.

To re-inforce that, I decided to run the Hartford Marathon. Today- just 24 hours before the race.

Time to get some sleep. i have a marathon in the morning....

Volume

This weekend marked a return to some decent volume- 3 hour ride, 20 minute run Saturday (brick), then a two hour run Sunday morning with a one-hour spin in the afternoon.

I'd been racing- duathlons and road races- and even though the road race was a half-marathon, I know how the game goes. If you don't get in some two hour runs and some longer rides you might just as well as the people at the Ironman to change your first name to 'Toast' and wear that out on the course, especially in Lake Placid, where a lack of preparation is akin to an invitation to pain and suffering.

While volume isn't precisely fun, it can be fairly enjoyable, if it's done right. Which hopefully it was. I certainly felt like the ride, for a group ride, was actually some pretty good training as we had a good ten people in the ground.

I did a good portion of my long run with @poycc and a good bit with Steve Surprise and that's the nice thing about having teammates- you get to share your long runs, and to be honest, I can ride alone for five hours and enjoy it more than running alone for two.

Great weather never hurts, and we had that, but the big thing is that feeling that, with the Ironman now insight, that the hard work is starting. And that I'm OK with it and ready for it.

The next six to eight weeks is going to make or break my race.

That doesn't make me nervous. Not anymore.

Weekend Away from Racing

I've been on the run (and the bike) for two months now, starting with a pair of races in Rochester leading into back-to-back 10ks Memorial. Day weekend. I hadn't let the racing interfere with my training, in fact, I'd allowed the opposite and lived with slow times, at once accepting them yet berating myself.

So when many of my friends and even my coach were headed to Providence for the 70.3, I was left with an entire weekend to training with no consideration of racing. Add that to half-day Fridays and Eric was able to split my long workouts, something I'm generally not a fan of. I like following up one long ride with another, and then running the next day, but the truth is this worked a lot better.

Friday
61.3 miles in 2:51, plus a 20 minute run

After a disappointing bike split at Griskus (28:24 or so), I decided I needed a little hill work, so I traded my steady spins on Route 1 for a little climbing up towards Durham. I was supposed to do one hour in B, one hour in high B, and one hour in C.

The highlight of the ride was that about a minute before my turn-around, I saw a guy headed in the opposite direction. I turned around when the minute was up and started chasing. I'd noticed he was wearing University of Indiana (?) cycling gear, so I knew there was no guarantee I was going to catch him. But I did, just on the far side of the traffic circle at Route 80 and 79 (77?). I passed him and he jumped on my wheel. Instead of getting annoyed, I decided to have some fun with it. Before I knew it, we were going 24-27 mph up the hills and 40 mph down the hills.

And I was leading the train. What I've learned riding with guys like Eric and Kenny is that (as long as they want to humour me) I can sit on their wheel, but not lead. I mean, they can drop me at their leisure, but as long as I'm willing to work hard, I can ride on someone's wheel for a long way.

Not lead, and not at speeds like this.

I broke off at the fork to head back down to Hammonnassett and got a wave from the guy.

Engaging in the pull, and not getting annoyed that someone was breaking into my workout, was a way better choice, and I found out a little bit about myself. I also rode hills, and in three hours, lost just a couple of tenths of a mile per hour.

Saturday
30 minute swim, 90 minute bike

I had a great swim, marred only by some nasty sea-shell inflicted cuts on my feet. The one is still bleeding on and off and it's Sunday night. My bike was easy, which is to say, not hard, and therefore, didn't feel that good...

Sunday
90 minute run

My workout was the same as the bike, but the times halved- b, high b, c, 30 minutes each.

I ran the first thirty minutes with Dick Korby. We'd both been at the same beer-tasting Saturday (if you follow me on Twitter you saw a crazy burst of beers that I tried), and I think Dick was a little hung-over. I felt OK. We ran a steady 30 minutes, I dropped him back at his car, turned up the heat a little, and decided to hit out 146 rather than down into Indian Neck.

In other words, more hills.

The hard hills were in the middle hour and I ran really well. My feet were a little sore from the cuts, but what can you do ?

I ran down into Stony Creek, put myself what I figured was 32-33 minutes from home and started the C part of the run. I ran the whole last part at 10K and got back to the house in 27:30.

What I learned- I would say I had my best ride of the year Friday, and my best run of the year Sunday. While I don't want an easy day between my hard days every week, it was just what I needed.

Thanks coach- and congratulations on another Hawaii slot, Eric !

Karma- Which I don't believe in

As often happens on my day off, I was late getting home from work.

Actually, we had a New Haven Road Race Board meeting Friday morning, which are held at the Fire Academy, which is about 5 minutes from UNH (counting the lights). So I stopped in for a few minutes to take care of the insurance for the USATF-CT JO meet. 90 minutes later I was actually on my way home.

By a few minutes after 11:00 I was home, the cats had been fed, and I was actually dressed to run for 45 minutes as a warmup to my ride- scheduled for 3 hours, but I already knew I was only going to be able to make 50. It was my birthday, and I had things to do. But I stopped long enough to pay a bill online, which is a pretty quick thing, then I headed out.

It was still foggy and misting as I started running the opposite way on the Branford Road Race course. I'd crested the hill (the downhill between 3 and 4 on the course), and was headed down (the uphill on the course in that mile). Suddenly, about 5 seconds ahead of where I was there was a weird cracking noise, followed almost immediately by a tree branch crashing down across the side of the road I was running on.

It was about 8 feet long and at its widest, as big around as my calf. Not huge, but it would have been enough to brain me or at least knock me down.

I'd been aggravated about getting what I considered a late start to my workout.

Not anymore... that's my foot next to one piece.

Shamrock 5 Miler and Fun Run, Part 2

So we finished up the kids race and I helped Margit get the stroller set up so she could push Ian, while she told me I'd better get my warmup started. If you wanted to read a real blog post, then you'd have to read her account of running five miles pushing the stroller. But you won't see that here, so you'll have to settle for another boring race report from me.

Sorry.

I lined up and two people caught my attention right away- Jesse Efrom and Mike Gyulay. On my best day and Mike's worst, I might push Mike for 3 miles or so in a 5 mile race. On my best day, I might be able to see Jesse for three miles. No one else set off any alarms, then again, I'm sure I wasn't setting off any alarms for either Jesse and Mike.

They started us off and the course is flat for a long time- a long time. This isn't the type of course that plays to my strengths- you basically just start running and hope for the best as you head away from the surf club.

To be honest, until I saw which way we were going from the start, I really wasn't 100% sure what the course was. I ride on a large part of the course almost every weekend, and had previously seen a 3 on the road I thought might be part of the course, however, the last time I'd run the race, we'd run across the soccer field at the start and couldn't begin to tell you what else we'd done.

So here I was, running by the guard shack, less than a 1/4 mile into the race, and I'm in second, chasing Jesse, with Mike just sitting on my heels. The little voice in my head was reminding me that if Mike, who is a faster runner, was behind me, I was probably running too fast early. But hey, I don't know what kind of shape Mike is in, and more importantly, I'm not Mike, So I didn't make any changes to what I was doing, I just ran- a little too hard. The road was flat and straight and then there were two pretty quick turns. I think Mike went by in the turns, and now I was in third and by the mile mark, I was already really in third, a good five or six paces off MIke and growing.

Jesse was in control of the race, and I mean really in control of the race. No offence to Mike, who was definitely kicking my ass, but Jesse putting down the hurt.

By the time we wound our way to the sea wall, I had to shift mental gears. Although I'd been keeping Mike in my sights because I was still evaluating how far he was ahead, what I needed to do to close the gap, because that's what you do, by the time I hit two miles, I certainly knew that I was racing for third. And I could hear the guy in fourth behind me. I could hear his footsteps, I could hear people cheering him on. I had five or six seconds, and that was it.

And I just kept running. I didn't try to evaluate that feedback I was getting. I took it for what it was, that someone was in range, but I was in front. I hit the one hill on the course, powered up it, took another turn. At the next turn, I could have dipped my head to the left- not a look back, just a head dip.

To me, it's the same thing. If you look back, well, I don't look back, that's me.

And then we took one more turn and we were running in the wind and we would be running in the wind the rest of the way.

There were a few turns left and then we were running back towards the clubhouse and I was tired, but I was trying to bear down and find half an extra gear, because someone was chasing me down.

There's that moment right at the end of the race where the finish chute is so close that you can just take it home and even though you're not finished yet- that's the sweetest moment in a road race, maybe half a dozen steps from the finish, with just enough of a cushion that no one is catching you and no one's close enough in front to catch, and you can just relax- not physically, but from the neck up.

And then it was over, and I hadn't been caught and I didn't feel half like throwing up, so it was easy to go back in the chute and shake the hand of the guy behind.

I grabbed Dave and ran a warm-down, and even though I came in at 30:06, I'll take it and head on to the next race.

Back Outdoors

My 11 AM meeting ran late (don't they always ?) and I found myself look at 12:15 with two choices- walk 5 minutes to my car to drive 10, and probably only get about 1000 yards in the pool, then drive back, or run 40-45 minutes wearing nothing but tri-kit and gloves.

This is not a choice. If my car had been in the parking lot and it had been noon, I would have headed straight to the pool, but even though the mid-thirties is a little cold for bike shorts and singlet, I knew that the cold would only last for, well part of the run. I'd had a good spin this morning and I'd done the hill workout on the treadmill (below) yesterday, so I needed a solid, really solid tempo run.

With the exception of the fact that my Zoot trainers let water in through the bottom (great for triathlons, lousy for running in slush and puddles), it was a great run and another example of how you can be one the fence about a run and it turns out to be the best thing you could do. By the time I was climbing up one of the bigger hills halfway through the run and NIN's Sin came on the iPod, I knew I'd made the right choice.

I may not be in Arizona like my coach and his camp, but that doesn't mean it's not time to get outdoors...

Anniversaries

I just wanted to note that on the 7th anniversary of having been arrested during a long run at lunchtime, on my wife's birthday, I went out and did a hard, 40 minute high tempo run on some of the same roads and managed to come back in one piece and not arrested.

It was in the twenties with a bitter wind, and I was running in bike shorts and a singlet. I learned something on this run (this was back on February 5th).

For years I'd been thinking that I was much tougher when I was a teenager, that I used to run in shorts and a t-shirt. This is back in say, 1982 and I seemed to be invincible to the cold.

And here I was, so far behind schedule that I didn't have time to go to the gym and run on the treadmill and also didn't have proper gear to run outside. And I ran outside anyway.

At first, I was suffering and then the skin on my legs suddenly got this 'I'm going to kind of shut down and leave you to this running thing' and it struck me.

I wasn't tough in 1982. I was poor, and running gear technology was not where it is now. There wasn't the fine selection of tights, gloves and jackets we have today (and I run in). And what there was, I couldn't afford to buy. I'm not saying I didn't own a wool cap and mittens, but that was about all I owned. Tights ? Huh ? Tight ?

I wasn't tough. I was just poor.


I'm glad I can afford good running gear now....

The Ghost of Me

I went out today to run for two hours. It was my first long run in three weeks, and my first long run since November that was alone. I've been doing my long Saturday runs with a friend who was getting ready for the New Orleans marathon- great job, Michael, by the way- so it's allowed me to go out, keep my base in tact, but still go at a managed pace.

My first long run coming back after a break of time, especially when alone, is always a little bit more of a challenge, and to be honest, every long run by myself is a challenge, not so much to do the distance, but to keep the intensity down to where it's supposed to be. Eric had actually given me a run on my schedule with Michael, not knowing he was out of town. It told me where my intensity should be.

Why ? Well, it's not uncommon for many of us when we do our long runs to struggle a little bit with pacing, and I think most endurance athletes struggle more often to keep he pace down than to keep the pace up.

I call this 'the ghost of me.' The ghost of me is a few years younger, a little bit faster, and a LOT better looking than I am. He's also very quick to remind me, as soon as I start to flag a little, about how I didn't keep up the pace on the second loop in Florida last November and that cost me a sub-ten, or how I walked in Arizona. As Jon Stewart would say, he's kind of a dick.

I'll get out there and I start chasing the ghost. I start thinking I'm not quite pushing hard enough. I'll start to fatigue and instead of moderating I'll push harder because 'in a race you have to push past the fatigue.' The funny thing is, on my good days racing, it's my steady approach more than my modicum of skill that gets me to the finish line in a reasonable amount of time.

And so, I'll run for two hours and run closer to my hour run pace. As I often hear when doing Spinervals, 'you should be going hard enough that you want to slow down, but you don't have to'. And that's what my long run feels like when I'm pushing just a little bit too hard. I can run my hour training run pace for two hours, but it's not comfortable and it's not my goal.

About 90 minutes in, right after my second gel I really started to feel like I wasn't putting out a great effort any more. I'd gone just a little too hard and now, I was having that same thought I have every long run that doesn't go perfectly- 'what if this happens at (fill in the blank with name of next IM race) ?' I was running up a steep hill and maybe berating myself a little bit.

Then I had a little run-in with a pissed off SUV driver that was more concerned about having to drive two miles an hour under the speed limit than the safety of a seventy-year old man. I know this because after I'd run up the hill and turned towards the POYCC the driver reversed direction, came back, and told me I should have told the old man to cross to the correct side of the road so there wouldn't have been two pedestrians in the same spot forcing him to reduce speed.

Long story short- I should never let drivers aggravate me. I should stay inside myself, focus on my workout, not let anyone take any energy away from me.

If you're shaking your head or laughing, it's because you know me.

But you know what- the adrenaline rush made me feel better. I also was no longer thinking about the ghost of me. I ws running well, I was no longer fatigued and- my mind was actually clear. What should have been stressful and irritating actually was calming and liberating.

Whatever works- but don't let the ghost of you affect your workouts. Those old races where you let yourself down ? History. The fact that you are older, and perhaps slower than the ghost ? You certainly are older- every workout you are older/ Slower ? Don't be sure about that- and even if your are there's no shame in that unless you are Benjamin Button.

Which would be curious indeed...

Lance Again

Yesterday's brick workout included a 45 minute run. I was near the end of the run, chugging along at 'race pace', when a twenty-something in a toyota went by, leaned out the window and yelled 'Go, Lance !'

First of all, clearly I do not resemble Lance Armstrong, who is younger, taller, fitter, and most recognizable ON A BIKE. I was even wearing my CSC socks and gloves and I ambled down the road.

I was running with my coach Eric Hodska today (great 2 hour trail run in Trumbull, where they've done an awesome job with some new trails) and he pointed out it's just something the kids like to yell out. And as the President of UNH told me the other day 'everyone knows I ride a bicycle.' Still, I guess it says something about endurance sports that our most recognizable endurance athlete is actually a retired cyclist.

It's also a reminder of the other Americans- Floyd Landis and Tyler Hamilton come to mind- who have tried and failed to supplant or follow in the footsteps of Lance.

Then again, Lance has last been seen (as an athlete) running the Boston Marathon the last two years. And on a good day (a really good day), I could probably match him on the marathon course.

So if you see me out on the road and feel like yelling 'Go Lance !' go right ahead- it won't bother me at all. Just don't throw anything at me....

Manure

It's funny how pervasive smell is. I was doing my 45 minute run in an unusual place today- Orange. I was on a back road, Travis City, maybe- something city. And the smell of manure hit me.

Now you don't get a really good whiff of manure that often anymore. At least not living down on the shoreline here in CT. I grew up in farm country. The only school I ever went to (K-12) was downwind from a chicken farm. Our cross-country course (and all cross-country courses in the area) went through a cornfield. The biggest social event of the year was the Schaghticoke Fair (yes, that's spelled correctly- I googled it to make sure).

And I had the strangest thought when I smelled it. I thought of my mom and dad and how they had this really strong bond. It was really random. I don't think about them that much- Dad died when I was 8, Mom when I was 19. Dad grew up on a farm and would have been a farmer if he hadn't gone off to fight in World War II (I was adopted by some seriously older parents).

Who knows what actually made me think that- a smell familiar from the place I spent most of the first twenty-years of my life, my dad's connection to farming, or just random thinking.

It sure is funny the things that are hidden inside your head, and the observations that you make, even when you're young. It makes me wonder what Ian is picking up along the way- he talks about family all the time and his idea of what a family is a little too rigid, but understandable for a three-year old.

Maybe the bottom line is, when I smell manure, it doesn't gross me out. It just makes me think about a place I can't go back to. A place that doesn't really exist anymore and in the way I remember it, probably never really did.

A Race ?

I haven't run a race since Christopher Martins last year and haven't even really considered running one either. It's been 2 hours on the mountain bike or spinning Saturdays and 90 minutes or more of running every Sunday- I got back up to 1:45 last Sunday.

When Margit suggested running the Sweetheart Run, I was taken a little off-guard. I haven't really done any speed work running. it's been slow runs in the b range, spinning, the occasional swim. Work has been unusually busy- a series of mishaps caused by people who are supposed to be helping me with me picking up the pieces- so getting in two workouts a day has been rough sledding and often if I get one workout in, it's on the bike.

The Sweetheart course is a hard course, with a big hill and usually some good competition. I'll be interested to see how I do.

Winter Weather Running

Not that I know anything about anything, but I certainly have plenty of experience running in the snow and slop. I ran 5 days a week in high school, regardless of the weather. Living in upstate New York, that meant fairly frequent runs in snow, sometimes deep snow. Of course, my focus is a lot different these days. But one thing hasn't changed- a long run in the wintery mix requires a slightly different approach. I think it's a great workout, but I also think it's a certain type of workout and one that has to be approached a little differently.

You don't really get that many opportunities to do a long run in the snow when you're down here in CT, especially along the shore, and I think it's just a great opportunity to have a really good time and enjoy yourself. You do a lot of long runs and most of them probably aren't all that memorable, but a snowy run or a run in a storm- you'll remember that a lot longer because it is special.

However, if you're looking for a red zone workout (there's nothing wrong with that, maybe you're training for a late January/February marathon), stop reading this, find the nearest treadmill, crank it up to your 20K pace and elevate it to 4-5% and have at it.

Here's my tips for having a great, enjoyable long run in the snow, sleet and wind.

1) Dress just warm enough and nothing more. It's cold, it's wet, you want to get bundled up. But it's easy to overdo it and you could find yourself sweating up a storm and melting down. Or worse, you might be tempted to remove that outer layer, which usually cools all that sweat and then your core body temperature can crash. It's ok to be a little cold the first 5-10 minutes. Running is one of the best ways to elevate your core body temperature and once you do that, you'll be fine.

2) Leave the beat-up old running shoes at home. If a pair of running shoes aren't good to run in on a normal day, they aren't good enough to run in the slop either. If you're a triathlete you probably have at least 2K invested in your bike and associated gear- you can swing 80.00 for running shoes if the pair you wear really gets ruined (and they won't). Give the old shoes to one of those drives that collects used shoes.

3) Turn down the volume on the ipod- just a little. When the roads are bad, you have to be able to hear the traffic, especially snow plows. The last thing you want to do is go around a corner and find yourself face to face with a plow blade

4) If you (micro) manage your music on the iPod, take it down a notch. Add some festive holiday jingles. Snow Patrol and Stars of Track and Field's The Antarctica EP are mandatory. Nine Inch Nails and Evanescence is probably a little too extreme.

5) The big thing- take the heart beat down a good 10 beats. Your leg muscles are going to be working extra-hard pushing off the uneven, sliding 'ground'. Run at your normal heart rate and you'll be beating up your legs, which shouldn't be the point. Keep it moderate.

Pick a route you don't usually run, or run one of your routes backwards. That way you won't be watching your watch and worrying about how far behind your usual pace you are. Running for 90 minutes ? Pick an eighty or even a seventy-five minute loop- you can always add on if you're ahead towards the end.

6) Wear glasses. You'll probably be headed out into a pretty gray day, and it may seem like the right idea to ditch sunglasses that will only dim things down more or fog up. But driving snow, sleet, or ice can make it impossible to keep your eyes open, much less on the road.

The bottom line is that a snow run should be fun. A good workout yes, but you might be better off leaving the red zone run for another day. Take time to enjoy the scenery and see the world a way you rarely do.