Don't you know running's bad for you?

I followed up a solid long run with a Rose-Fern Monday night, in the dark, the way it's supposed to be run. This time I kept things a little cooler than my 6:00 pace a few weeks before. 6:30s was more like it. Each of these runs holds a little more significance, because I'll be moving into the city, likely near Cleveland Park, at the end of June. The road loops that have been my stomping grounds for more than two and a half years will now require a metro trip. The tipping point was the distance. As long as I work in the city, it makes less and less sense to live out in Virginia. Adding in my social life and resistance to owning a car, along with the increased commuting times on the weekends, and the only compelling argument for me staying in Virginia is the running- I think it is unlikely I will find the quality of road loops that I enjoy now, and certainly traffic will be an issue. More conceptually, I love being a Virginian. Since the first time I was in the commonwealth for something more than driving somewhere else, it's been a place I want to be. But those 90 minute return trips home in the evening, the inertia to get going anywhere, the waiting around near the end of the orange line on weekends, the shuttle bus service between East and West Falls Church, the fatigue and irritation I feel at the end of the trips, the 1:45 it took for me to get to Regina and Clay's two Saturdays in a row...it may be worth it. I could have looked for a job in Virginia, but I didn't move here to work in the suburbs. There will be a time in my life where it will make sense for me to live in Virginia again, but during this process, I'll enjoy each run where I go 15 minutes without seeing a car just a little bit more.

I was feeling a little tired Tuesday night, so I opted for eight easy, watchless miles on the Westmoreland loop. The mileage I was missing would be easy to make up Friday during my workout.

Wednesday's track workout was just fine, but very unsatisfying. We ran 5x mile, all fast- 5:10, 5;06, 5:00, 4:58, 4:51. The group was so large that running consistently in the pack was impossible. One fellow in particular kept weaving in and out of lane one, making the entire mile a series of lulls. I wanted to do a sixth, but by that point, the big dawgs wanted to push it and despite running 70 for the first lap, I was off the back. All I really wanted was to run 4:50, anyway.

Thursday night, I returned to the Catholic loop, which I had neglected for months. I added a bit up to Riggs and around Lower Senate Park. 6:30s.

Friday, I boarded a Megabus for Pittsburgh to surprise my friend Nate for his 30th birthday. That's why I was shocked when I looked up and saw the Pigeon Coop and Camden Yards. Baltimore has no business on a trip between Washington and Pittsburgh. I inquired to the driver as to why we were there, and she admitted she was lost. I directed her back to I-70 and cautiously returned to my seat, aware this six-hour trip, already bloated, was going to be much longer. After a stop in Morgantown, she told us that dispatch center wanted her to wait for another bus to take us, because the transmission was fading. Instead, she drove us to Pittsburgh at about 40 mph. From the passenger's side, I watched us cruise by some dirt roads parallel to I-79 and I imagined running on them early in the morning, like when I worked for the Herald-Progress, like I was going to do when I took those newspaper jobs in western Maryland. I started second guessing my choices to move into the city, but the reality at the time, that I was riding a bus during a four-day weekend trip, reminded me to get with the program.

After reaching Pittsburgh, I waited 45 minutes for a bus to Highland Park, near Nate's house and an opportunity to get in a nice long workout before the party. I stuffed my bag in the park, right near where drug dealers leave stuff, Nate later told me, and warmed up around the outer loop to the park's inner loop. The inner loop could be a great place for a five-mile race, if only the full thing was shorter. The road loop is 1.1 miles, but by cutting a bit off using an access road, it's an even mile. My plan was 2x4 miles- 5:30s then 5:20s. I would be doing it with only one reference point for time- the mile. I got going and nearly missed the access road. It was pretty dark, and I thought it was going on a little long. Then it turned to the right, which didn't make sense. I realized I had missed the second turn. I kept things going and got back on track and hit 6:01 for what turned out to be 1.13 miles- 5:19 pace. I got it right the second time- 5:28, but when I finished the second mile, the aggregate of time I spent sitting on buses- almost nine hours, caught up with me, and I stopped. I ran a few laps around the reservoir and headed back around the remote outer loop. As I came around a curve, I saw a car headed my way, pretty odd considering the road really only went around the inside of the park. The car got closer and I realized it belonged to Nate- the very person my friends and I were trying to surprise. I hid my face as much as I could in case he took a second look, then as soon as he passed me I ran into the woods to hide. For the rest of my cooldown, whenever I saw a car, I hid behind a tree. This had a chilling effect on a few walkers who thought I was up to no good, but honestly, all I wanted to do was keep someone from seeing me...

The party setup went well, and despite several hints that would have given it away, Nate was surprised. He later asked me if I had been running earlier -- he had indeed seen me -- and said he had been running just about the same route an hour before- right when I would have been in the middle of my workout had the bus trip not been delayed.

The next morning, I drove out to Hampton to visit Javed and Jess. They moved from Fox Chapel, so runs from their house no longer involve a ridiculous hill at the end. Jess and I set out for a 13 miles run with a few loops around a horse riding thing. Farm? Playground? We cruised along at 7:40 pace, and I didn't mind at all, it was just right. Unlike my run with Jess in March 2010, this hills didn't bother me at all. When we finished and I headed back to my mom's car to head home for a nap, but suddenly my tailbone got really tight and weak and I freaked out. I jumped to the worst conclusion I could think of, a stress fracture, and texted the Red Fox, telling him I thought I broke my crotch, like he had. I definitely assumed the worst.

 

I took the rest of the day easy, by the time I went to Matt and Hilary's 30th birthday party I was so tired I was out of it. I got to see Brandon G and Greg, and talked to another runner named Todd who had it worst than me- he slipped while running and broke one of his vertebrae.

Sunday morning I met up with Nate, Mo, Ciccone, Websterm Nate's cousin Jessie and Scott for a run in Highland Park. It was the first time I had run with Webster since we were on the Mt. Lebanon track team together in 2000. He's been a loyal runner in the last few months, and is evidently planning to do a leg at the Pittsburgh Marathon relay! We dropped a few people off after four, did another loop to get to six, then Scott and I took Mo back to her house and finished up eight miles. I met Scott in 2008 when I hit on one of his grad school classmates at the Spring Thaw, and he turned out to be a delightful fellow. He and his wife, Sarah, are moving to Seattle, which is a bummer for Pittsburgh. When we were finishing up the last few miles, though, the left side of my pelvis start hurting. It wasn't good. I was convinced then that I had a stress fracture.

I headed back Monday evening. Wednesday morning I managed to get an appointment with an orthopedist out in Reston. Before he even heard my complaints, he asked about my running routine. As soon as he heard me say 90 miles a week, he went off on an anti-mileage screed and told me I could run three-mile runs and be fine. After some checking, he told me it was very unlikely I had any stress fractures and that pain I was feeling was a muscle sprain. I can attribute that to treating myself like a pack mule and carrying too many groceries at once home before having people over for brunch in January. The pain near my thigh was a hip adductor issue. A total of two weeks off should do it, but I was free to cross train. The oddest thing throughout all of this was the striking resemblance the guy bore to Matt Centrowitz (right), which gave the idea of those anti-running sentiments even more cognitive dissonance.

So I went back to work with a huge relief -- I would likely only miss about two weeks of training, and two of those days had already passed. With a swimming pool featuring a diving well on my way to work and a stationary bike in my office's basement, I had the tools to stay in shape and a short enough timeframe that I could keep the intensity up. I couldn't imagine doing it all much longer than that. I'm fortunate that the injury was not caused by running, so I don't have to re-engineer my form or anything like that.

That evening, I rode the stationary bike in the basement. It was miserable. I made it an hour, plus the fits and starts for a warmup. In the hour, I "biked" 21 miles.

Thursday, I realized I left my lock at the office, so I put off the pool and biked again. This time 75 minutes. Made it 25.8 miles in an hour this time, with more resistance.

Friday morning I woke up at 5:30 to get to Washington-Lee by 6. I took the plunge and returned to the refuge of the damned and injured. I hadn't done any serious aquajogging since 2002, when dealing with a stress fracture suffered in my pre-Richmond running days. Back then I had Jon Lauder, Nick Lauerman, Ian and Paul to keep me company. Now I was on my own. In my first two minutes, I wondered if I'd be able to keep it up, but after a while it became tolerable. For a while, Kristi the Pacer was at it, too, but my late start meant I'd eventually be on my own when she left. I made it 80 minutes before the stitch in the lining of my running shorts-swim trunks facsimile became too much for my inner thigh. I spent the rest of the way with my wool trousers irritating my skin. Work took too long for me to hit the bike before attending a happy hour with Murph to promote the Father's Day 8k.

I'm the black guy

Saturday morning I slept in rather than read to the pool, so I returned to my office gym for more biking. It was a rough day, to say the least. I made it 15 minutes on the bike before my focus started to wilt. I tried the elliptical, which I hated, and stopped after 15. Back to the bike- 15. That was enough. A shower and a bus ride to watch the Majority Whips take on Scare Force One in the roller derby, the only activity I could hope to boost my heart rate.

Sunday morning I woke up, took the metro out to Vienna, then biked out to Oak Marr, the only pool nearby that opened in the morning. I got there right at 10, and headed over to the diving well, where some people were swimming. I popped in and start to do my thing, when the guard told me it was closed for diving class. I headed over the lanes where people seemed to be doing rehab work, but the water was only four feet deep. Back to the swimming lanes, where some dude yelled at me. I tried to negotiate use of the half the diving well not being used, but liability concerns prevented that. So, with nowhere to do my cross training, I biked over to GMU to watch Aubrey, our one GRC athlete, run the 3k. Only it started at 2 and I was there at 11, so I watched some races about which I cared little, then took splits for Aubrey and then supervised a post-race workout outdoors. The GMU track looks pretty nice under the blue sky with bare trees to the south, and soft fields to the west. I wished I could run.

Monday morning I joined Cris and a few other ladies in the pool, and I truly appreciated their company as I churned my legs for two hours. I noticed how quickly the sun was filling the sky and I wondered if I was becoming a morning person. I biked for 80 minutes in the afternoon, having less trouble breaking through to a sustainable effort this time.

Tuesday morning I was alone in the pool for most of the two hours I was in there. I warmed  up and cooled down for 15 minutes each and did 45x one minute on, one minute off. It was almost easy. In the afternoon, I warmed up for the bike with 30 minutes, 11.1 miles, while reading, then I ditched my kindle for some music and biked 24.8 miles in an hour.

Wednesday morning, I slept in and prepared for the push for the next three and a half days off my feet to keep me in shape for what remains of my spring season. Fun Lizard and I will head up to the Van Metre five mile, then I'll train up until the Cherry Blossom race, where I will hopefully run fast enough to get a comp to the Pittsburgh Half. If not, then I guess I'll have to find another half before it gets too hot. I guess we'll see on Sunday if cross training works.

Fundamental failure

I had an opportunity to run a great half marathon this morning and I blew it by not being aware of where I was less than three minutes into the race.

I took Thursday off when I came home from work feeling exhausted. I ran a solid 10 miles the next morning on the Steelers loop at 6:28 pace. Got to sleep kind of early, then up at 8 Saturday to do a Fisherman's loop. The trip to Philadelphia with Dart, then the Millers, went smoothly, as did the packet pickup and dinner. I got to bed at nine, slept well until five, and felt great when I got up and warmed up to the start. I jogged a bit with Drea, Dart and the Butcher of Damascus, then waded around in the maroon corral (who was it who kept pronouncing it "coral" last year?).

After an unexplained delay, we got started. I had a significant blockade of women in the way, so I swung out to the right to get around them, but I was somehow behind some stupid little guy with his hair sprayed to look like an eyetalian flag. I caught up to a pack of dudes and settled in, and felt nothing out of the ordinary. I saw Wager, so I inched up to him and whispered "send 'em" and we exchanged a quick five. I slide back a little, and suddenly saw the first mile mark and looked at my watch- 5:02. JESUS H. CHRIST.

I immediately dropped back, terrified of the hole I had dug for myself. But in dropping back, I was firmly putting myself in no-man's land between the fast half-marathoners and the marathoners. This wasn't a situation like the GMU 5k, I made the right move in not trying to run with them. There were just so many guys up there, I didn't think they could all be running the half- I figured the majority of guys would be running the full to run 2:18. My plan was to just sit in a pack with them and cover real estate. I literally had no idea how fast I was running inthat first mile. I thought I might be cold and stiff from standing in the corral for so long and 5:17-5:19 was that fast. So, I ran by myself for four miles. 5:17, 5:19, 5:23, 5:31. I was pretty much on my five-mile goal time, but I got there the wrong way.

The group of guys chasing sub 2:19 passed me and I maybe hung on for 30 seconds, but I was tying up already. I hit another 5:31 and a 5:25 on a long straight. A pair of guys gapped me briefly, but I reeled them in and pulled away from them on a long uphill in mile eight, which I hit in 5:43. I was alone most of nine, hit that in 5:40, and thought I had a chance to at least match my 10 mile PR (54:24) with my 10-mile split, though my original pacing plan would have been more than 90 seconds ahead. Nope. Long uphill, mostly by myself, though I saw three guys in red ahead of me. Then, running down the road, with no pothole, my left ankle gave out and I yanked the hell out of it. I came though the 10th mile in 5:54, 54:50-- my second-fastest 10 mile, but not by much, and at this point, I consider my 10 mile PR to be my second softest, after the marathon.

The 11th mile was almost all downhill, but with my ankle probably sprained, I could bear only a 5:31. I came across a 180 turn, which, for some reason, this marathon/half-marathon had. That's ok in a little community 5k, but not in a metropolitan marathon, that's just lazy and unimaginative. I saw Curt Larimer, who I figured was doing the marathon, but did the half. Baressi passed me and I quietly encouraged him, but I was toast by this point. He was running the full, and him passing me was rough--he's very talented, but I should have been well ahead of most guys running the full marathon. I tried to hang, but it wasn't happening.

I thought maybe, with an 11-mile split of 1:00:21, I could keep things together for a pair of 5:30s and at least get in under 1:12. Nope. 5:48, 6:24 with the .1, and I lost ground to a guy in red in the last half mile. As it turned out, I had a healthy (90+) second lead over him at Freedom's Run.

It was just poorly done all around. One of the 13 splits was right. One was 15 seconds fast, the others were all slow. I was disappointed, but more embarrassed that such a stupid mistake, such unbridled enthusiasm led to my downfall. I was, for a while, a cockeyed optimist, thinking I could still run sub-5:20s on my own after a 5:02, but no. I tied up more and more as the race went on, and the last three miles, after stumbling, my calves got extremely tight, and following that, my shins. When I finished the race, I couldn't jog over to watch the marathoners go by.

Scott dropped out when I saw him, cramps forcing him to confront the misery of trying to push throug 13 more miles. We walked around, got some dry clothes and watched the finish. I saw Greg Byrnes, Brandon G., Michelle M., Dart, the Burhams, Mindy S., Katie Sheedy, Sam Howard (who qualified by a few seconds), and Jeff, though apparently I missed Cavanaugh, and left 30 secondds before Ali Belicose came by. I went back to the hotel, took a hot bath, packed and met the GRC people for a few minutes before Michelle Corkum and Andy picked me up. Michelle was eyeing a trials qualifier, having run 2:48 in LA earlier this year, but a last-minute cold left her feverish, achy and miserable and she dropped out at 13. Emily Ward thinks she broke her heel, and she was out at 14. Michelle M. felt the race slip away early and was out of it. Drea PRed in the half, and Dart PRed by more than six minutes, though she wanted to be two minutes faster. No men qualified, Kevin Pool once again coming close. In the marathon, the only person I think who made it was Sam Howard-- Liz Graham's protoge.

That all goes to demonstrate two things- Philadelphia is a hard course, and qualifying for the olympic trials is hard. As it should be. It's not something you can do on a lark, as a girl I met last year seemed to think when she said she and her sister were going to do it. You need to know exactly what you'll be dealing with as the race goes on, and I am positive that means overdistance training, a 30-mile long run. That all said, Hallinan and Blood ran under 1:05 in the half, which was pretty good.

That's disappointment right there

I rode in the backseat of Michelle's car, heading to Pittsburgh, knowing I let a great fall's worth of training, along with the summer full of misery while building my base, go to waste because I didn't figure out where a half-mile marker was so I could be sure I was going out appropriately. Part of what appealed to me about the race was that the marathon and half started together and shared the course for almost 13 miles. That seemed great to me, because I could run with Karl -- he'd have a good feel for the pace, and I could keep him company, help with the pace and he'd keep me calm. When he fell ill, the first thing I should have done was ensure that I had landmarks to check my pace, because I wouldn't know who was running 5:17s otherwise. It was simple preparation, and it was just as imporatant as the long runs, the track workouts, the moderate runs and progressions. A 5:02 mile, when I wanted to be runninr 5:17s, was devastating. I sat in the car, which was way too warm, wondering if I got too excited about club nationals after Richmond and lost focus, or if my heart went out of it when I found out Karl wouldn't be running--maybe I wanted to take responsibility for helping him out so I wouldn't focus on how easy it is to give up.

To be clear, I don't think I gave up, I think given what I did in the beginning miles, dealing with wind along the Delaware River in mile three, plus the trauma I put my legs through in mile nine, I was going about as fast as I could. And, in the end, I was 16 seconds off my PR. I should be happy that considering how much went wrong in several phases of the race, that I was a little more thana second per mile off my PR, but I just can't be happy with it. I was ready for more, much more, than I accomplished today. That PR, which I set when I was sick ,running alone in a cocurse that barely had a mile of flat stretch, let alone the 6.5 this had, in the rain, was from the hard 13-mile run Steve prescribed, it was more a time trial than a race, and I picked that course over Buffalo Creek because I wanted to be sure Philly wouldn't be harder and I would run faster if all went well. Getting congratulatory messages from well-wishers was tough, because if they took the time to care, I wanted to give them something worth seeing when the looked up my results.

Madeline suggested I peaked too early. Absolutely not, I feel like my training was spot on, but I just made the dumbest mistake possible, one that I had several opportunities to prevent, and the regret I feel going forward and the missed opportunity will go a long way toward ensuring I don't do it again. It will also haunt me until I take another crack at the half, probably in Pittsburgh. It starts on Thursday with the Gutbuster. As Mike Tomlin, whose quotations I relish for his locution, said after some boneheaded playing cost a few games in 2009, I'm about to unleash hell. That second loop is toast.

The fall is by no means a failure, I ran a great, strong race on my own at Freedom's Run and fough pretty hard in Richmond. If I had a blase attitude at all toward the race because I was looking ahead to nationals, well, time to seriously focus on that. It's a chance to make up for my failings in Philly.

Accidental near marathon

Saturday afternoon's run was a return to the short network of trails in Washington Park, for about four miles. Sunday morning, however, was my long run, my first real effort at a serious long run in about a month, thanks to the heat. I had a 22-mile route mapped through Forest Park, the 5,000 acre collection of trees and stuff on the northwest edge of the city.

I woke up at 5, but worried it was too dark to navigate trails in the woods, so I waited a half hour for the light to spread a bit. It was raining, which didn't exactly thrill me, but to have temperatures in the low 50s for a mid-July long run was too lucky to give up. Within two miles I had missed some turns, but I figured out where I was and recovered before I did any damage, lukcily I was running pretty slowly up the stead hills to the park. I found the Leif Erikson Drive trailhead and was delighted to find mile markers. A quarter mile later, I was even more delighted to find quarter mile markers. It was steadily uphill, but I rattled off 6:30 miles for a lot of the climb. Thanks to Portland Monthly's handy Forest Park Guide, I knew I would hit a water tank at some point so I was anticipating sucking down the goo packet I brought with me.

The mud was flying, and I was soaked and filthy--I was loving it. I kept climbing, and wondered if I even wanted to go downhill. I didn't even care that there wasn't a dry spot on my body, I was too focused on moving ahead. It seemed like I'd see another half mile go by before I knew it. Then, about 9.25 miles into the trail, I got worried that I hadn't seen my turnoff, which was supposedly a significant road. I climbed a steep, single-track trail for a while, but when I saw it intersect with other trails that were nowhere on my map as I rememebered it, I turned back. I was starting to get worried that I wouldn't get any fresh water and miss any chance of having the goo. I retraced more than three miles of Leif Erikson to the Saltzman Road trail, down a long long hill to Mt. St. Helens Road, in the industrial section northwest of downtown. I was back on track, but knew I had a long way to go. I was starting to wonder if I could make it back to my hotel in time to shower, get to the convention center and eat a decent breakfast before the first workshop I had to cover.

Photo from austinmarathontraining.blogspot.com
It was just plain flat, and I was starting to weigh the consequences of running fast and getting back quickly, or running slower and not going overboard or hitting the wall with miles left to travel. I considered hitchhiking, but I didn't even see many drivers, early on a Saturday morning in a non-residential part of town. I did notice that my form was immaculate, which concerned me because my most significant worry was getting lazy and hurting myself with sloppy form. Despite running for well more than two hours, I was probably running faster than when I started. Running was a natural state, and the only thing that would keep me from continuing was my impending work day. I was worried about making it back just because my sense of professionalism told me to be, but at the same time I was confident in my ability to get back. I went a long time without seeing numbered road signs, having started at 56th and aiming for 6th. As it turns out, the addresses were about 10 blocks off, but I was overjoyed when I hit Vaughn and saw 27th street, knowing I was closing in on my hotel. I saw a bar open for breakfast and stopped in for a glass of water so I could have the goo. I probably would have made it back without it, but the full day of work I had ahead of me probably wouldn't have gone too smoothly. I continued east toward 6th, running along several Simpsons character's namesame roads- Lovejoy, Flanders, Kearny. As I approached my hotel, I check my watch- 2:49. In a little more than a minute, I would break my personal record for longest duration run. I coicidentally finished up at 2:49:18, my marathon PR. I didn't really feel like running another minute. I got up to my room and took my shower, noticing the ridiculous amount of mud, sand and a few pebbles that worked its way into my shorts. I never noticed when it was bouncing around in there for what turned out to be 25 miles, but I sure noticed it when I turned the shower on and the water hit the raw skin on my inner thighs. I averaged 6:46 for the run, though I left my watch running when I went in for water, so I ran a little faster.

It's a run I would never have been able to do in Virginia the same day, where the temperature was much higher. Suffice to say, it's been a good trip.

And my shoes were pretty filthy when it was over, and this was after six miles of running on pavement during which the dirt could come off.

The heat is back

I had been tired most of last week, but I managed to force myself to get up and do six miles before work Wednesday, though it was pretty humid. I just did the Park look, the first time I had run it without the Van Buren and Buxton addition in a long time.

The evening workout had a lot of promise, Karl was planning 4xmile at 5:00 pace, which was just what I wanted to do. He wasn't ready for the first one, though, and so I did a mile with the group that was planning shorter reps after a first mile. I lead that one exactly, then prepared for life on my own for the rest, because Karl's stomach was not ready to go. I let the 2:25 800 group go ahead, and I followed at a safe distance, running 4:59.

The third one, though, felt a little wobbly, and I cut it after a 2:30 half. Bryan, reeling a bit from his first group workout in quite some time, offered to run with me through half, so we did so, also in 2:30, but a few steps later I was feeling like crud and stopped.

Thursday morning, I awoke to temperatures in the low 60s with scant humidity. I decided to take this opportunity to do a medium long run- a Double Pimmit- a summer evening favorite of mine last year, because it gave me an opportunity to drop water off a 1.5 and get it again at 8, with a trash can at 9. It was an outstanding morning for running, but as I climbed part of Idylwood Road the circumstances conspired against me. The shoulder is pretty limited, so I crossed some grass onto the sidewalk up the hill. A woman ahead of me was walking dogs, so I called ahead to her to let her know I was coming. As I approached, one of the three Maltese dogs darted in front of me, and I lept to avoid it, though it then moved beneath me, so I tried not to land on it, either. Instead, I landed on the edge of my right foot, spraining the ankle, and landing sideways on the sidewalk and grass, then rolling down the hill into the street, which was luckily not occupied by an automobile. The woman repeatedly asked if I was okay and did not accept that I needed to test my ankle to see if I was indeed alright, her stupid little TOWLs barking the whole time. Once I confirmed that the ankle wasn't broken (which she smart-assedly chimed in about), I tried walking, with a bit of pain, but I was unsure if whether I could run.

I limped off to a nearby stump to stretch everything out, and the woman walked up and mentioned that her husband ran on a track, and suggested I do the same. I demurred, telling her my volume running would make the track more unbearable that it already is. She then said I should run on bike trails, and I resisted the urge to tell her what unbearable dicks bicyclists typically are. She then scolded me, telling me sidewalks are for walking, and it kills me that I didn't retort that she should keep her dogs in a dog park. After a while, I was able to jog back home, but I cut off the second loop of the run.

I then ran with Will from Logan Circle that evening, and my ankle felt fine, though sore and weak.

I have no recollection of what I ran Friday morning, something about nine miles. In the afternoon, I did an easy Fisherman's loop, in preparation for pacing a 5k time trial the next morning.

Dickson picked me up at 6:30 and we headed to B-CC. We didn't know who was actually showing up to run, but since we were up, it was worth it to find out. We were joined by Jason Myers, Matt Logan, Dutch Paul and Murph, though Tex, Outlaw, Wiggy and Big City were on hand to watch. I was to take the group through 4k at 5:00 pace, something I had done well for Jake at the Race for Hope. It was in the mid 60s, but humid, and the sun was beating down pretty directly. Murph was shooting for 74s, so I let him go ahead, but I did a solid job with the first mile, coming in a little fast at 4:58. After another lap in 75, though, I was not feeling up to it anymore. Dutch Paul took over and Tex joined the party to help pacing, and I was out. I had never gone from feeling comfortable to being completely overtaxed in such a hurry. Thankfully the Pauls had everything under control, but I felt bad to be unable to pace. Granted the conditions were more adverse than a chilly morning in early May, and I was no longer training for a 5k, but I was still disappointed. The pack broke apart soon after, and I jumped in for a few laps to give Logan someone with whom to work. Murph dropped a lap after I did, and the time trail group was Tex leading Jason, with Dickson a few seconds behind and Logan behind him. Jason was looking strong, though, and came through 5k in 15:43, a big PR and his first sub 16. Meanwhile, I completely died on the cooldown. After a nap, I did a three-mile Fisherman's in 6:00 pace.

I wanted to do a long run Sunday morning, but I feared the humidity would bedevil me for 19 miles, so I repeated the Double Pimmit, with a frozen bottle of berry rain Gatorade waiting for me at mile 8. My shoes were squishing by the middle of the fourth mile, but I knew I wasn't going to break down any barriers by shying away from discomfort. I kept pushing, got my reward drink, and tried to keep pushing toward the end of the run, feeling particularly strong on my two loops of Pinecastle, even when holding a half-full bottle. I ended up averaging 6:49 pace for 13.1 miles.

After a nap and some more time off my feet, I went out for a ridiculously hot six miles on the Seaton loop. I came through three miles at 21:00, and then almost after, I felt a gust of cold wind hit me. I passed a couple of dudes cooking in their yard, listening to Ramble On, a favorite of mine. A few seconds later, all hell broke loose from the sky and rain began pelting me like crazy, and I loved it. My pace dropped ridiculously to 6:00s as I tore through the storm, again not caring that I was drenched and running with figurative sponges in my shoes, I just cared about how I could move ahead efficiently. I logically ended up averaging 6:30s for those six miles.

Monday morning I went out to run for time on the Pimmit Run Creek Trail. I spent about 100 minutes, and ran out to Georgetown Pike. About 35 minutes in, I stepped in some mud, which coated my foot and ankle completely, but I just went about my business.

Tuesday I got to work early and ran to Hains Point for the first time since the By George 5k. Unfortunately, this time there was no wind whatsoever, but seven miles in I ran into Matt Logan, and he accompanied me for a little more than two miles, a godsend.

So friggin lonely

I do most of my running on my own, but racing by myself isn't as fun.

When I realized, a half mile in, that nobody at the Van Metre Five Mile was running my pace, I reasoned that I could run way over my head to stick with the lead pack or drop back and fend for myself. I chose the latter and hoped my tendency to run fast even when I felt like garbage would continue. I came through the long first mile in 5:16, feeling pretty good.

I lost sight of the lead pack during the second mile when they wove through a neighborhood. The only target I had was an african in a blue singlet who dropped off, stretched for a second, then started chasing the lead pack. I thought I could run with him for a bit, but then he dropped out for good. The second mile included some downhills, but the wind held me back a bit. I came through two in 5:20, About five seconds slower than I thought I was going. The third mile started with a long uphill, a turnaround and a long downhill. I saw Karl racing Gurmessa and the Platypus and yelled for him, but realized quickly that was a bad idea if I was trying to run fast myself. Coming down the hill was harder than climbing it, because all of my expectations were geared toward being able to roll down it. The wind once again prevented me from really enjoying myself, and to be honest, I stopped racing. I just got lonely. I saw Jerry at about 3.5 and he told me to aim to catch the people in front of me, but I had no idea where they were I wen 5:30 and 5:35 in miles three and four, and as I passed the four mile mark, the guy calling out splits kept going. I wondered if I had anyone close to me and to my shock I did. Even though there was nothing at stake, I got competitive again and held him off to finish seventh in 26:55. Far from a PR, even farther from a good race, but 28 seconds faster than my race at the St. Patrick's Day 8k in 2010.

I was hoping to go out there and surprise myself, but honestly it was pretty hard with nobody close to my pace. Sixth place was 25:17, so nowhere close to me. After a cooldown and trip home, I took a nap and went out for an easy five, totaling 20 for the day and 90 for the week.

The next morning, I went out to Edward's Ferry with Matias, his buddy Mike, Outlaw, Karl and Sam. We started fast, and hung between 6:30-6:40 for most of the first 15 miles. I started to have some intestinal issues, so my last three miles were slower as a result, plus I noticed a but of blood soaking my shoe thanks to a bit of trail debris that had gotten into my right shoe. I also just felt tired, but it kept me from getting out of control at the end of the run. 38.5 miles in two days is no joke. The nap after that run was absolutely perfect.

Monday, I had the battery replaced in my heart rate monitor watch and I went out for a simple 12.25 mile run around Fairview Park. For the most part, I kept my heart rate around 145-150 and averaged 6:38 pace. It was pretty humid, and I got a good preview of what the summer is going to feel like on a good day.

Tuesday morning I did my first morning run in as long as I could remember, a 3.25 Fisherman.

In the evening I grabbed my flats and headed out to George Marshall High School for a 4xmile workout with a faster quarter migrating throughout the workout. When I got there, 2.5 miles later, I was dismayed to find two soccer teams taking the field. I thought about giving McLean High School a shot, so I ran another 2.5 miles there, finding another soccer game in progress. I ran two more miles to the Greenwich Road Mile, but I knew it wouldn't suffice. As much as I love that loop, it isn't a substitute for a fast, precise track workout. There is no real flat stretch to speak of, and three quarters are rolling, with a steep uphill toward the end. It would clearly not work for these miles, but I gave one a shot. My rudimentary splits came out to 75, 70, 78, 75 for a 4:58 high, but honestly the effort was equivalent to a much faster mile on the track. For all the progress I have made in my track pacing, and it has been a lot this year, I am useless on that undulating road mile. I tried to do a second mile a few times, but rarely made it more than 300m. I decided to bag it and, with Lindsey's suggestion, try again in the morning.

Wednesday morning went a little better, if only because I didn't bother with McLean. When I got to Marshall at 8 am, a gym class was making its way to the track. For God's sake, who has gym at 8 am? So, I'll scrap the workout this week. I'll rest for the Fred Hardy Invitational 5k Friday night. Despite my disappointing race on Saturday, I feel much better about my chances. It's an evening race, and I tend to do better running then. It's on the track, so even if I am alone I can get feedback from splits. I'm unlikely to be alone, hopefully I can tuck into a pack and get two miles out of the way under 5:00 pace. Also, it's a track, no hills, it's well protected from the wind, and I really haven't been training for five miles lately. Hopefully the good and the bad from Van Metre will figure into my approach to running a 5k close to my expectations.

Friday night's 5k will be my first track race in six years. I have no idea if I am ready for it.

To hell with George

I fell far short of two goals- running under 16:30 and getting an assessment of my racing fitness at the By George 5k.

The metro was about five minutes late, so I was already looking at less than the 25 minutes I budgeted between arriving in Foggy Bottom and the race starting. I started my warmup/run to the start confident that everything would work out. I wasn't feeling fresh while running, but I was careful not to run too fast to get there. I did notice a breeze...

The route ended up being 2.5 miles, and I got there with two minutes to spare. I tore my trainers off and tied my flats as fast as I could, wiggled into my singlet and sprinted to the start. Murphy was waiting with my bib, thankfully already adorned with safety pins, and I threw it on, took a few high-knee steps and got back to the line just in time for the start.

Some dude bolted to the front and I tried to keep my cool, not wanting to turn my frantic surge for the starting line to become a reckless sub-five minute first mile. Given how my pace had only slowed slightly in the second miles of my recent exciting conclusion runs, my capacity for high-quality running in the latter staged of the race seemed to be boosted. I did feel like I was going pretty slowly, but that might have been the odd sense of relaxation I was feeling, despite my panic minutes before. I figured I was running around 5:20 pace, so I was shocked to come through in 5:07. Maybe I will run well after all! The guy ahead of me wasn't insurmountably far ahead.

Those thoughts lasted for about 20 seconds, until the wind from the west slammed into me, pushing me to the left. Whatever wind I felt running down Virginia Ave, it was nothing compared to this. Rounding Hains Point, I felt like I was running in a driving snow. The bare tree branches squirmed wildly, but the guy in front was not pulling away. The course was out and back, so there was physically no way for the windy portion to be more than .55 miles, but it broke the hell out of me. I hit the turnaround in 8:20- 3:13 after the mile- 5:50 pace. I hoped turning would help, but it did little. I was firmly ensconced in second place, and would try to salvage something from the race, but my drive was broken. I tried to pick it up, remembering how I could still hit my splits on the windy stretch of the track, but that was nothing like this... I just waited for it to be over...

I tried to run with Karl, Wiggy and Outlaw, but my legs were Jello(tm) and I dropped after 1:40. I ran to try to block the wind for Murphy, Hughes and Angry Kate, with varying degrees of success.

Afterward, I did a cooldown with the guys to visit the Thomas Jefferson Memorial, then had a delicious egg sandwich at the East Potomac Park Golf Course shack.

I did 3.5 miles in the afternoon to round out 80 miles for the week. I still have no idea what I can do for 5k right now, though. I am toying with a time trial Monday or Friday.

10-10-10: The date to humiliate

I did it! I ran a marathon!

It took a lot of dedication, discipline, training, focus and determination, but I did it!

Charlie Ban = marathon finisher

The jubilation that someone feels when saying those words with pride is so foreign that I can't comprehend it. I'm beyond it, I'm cynical. The Chicago Marathon was nothing close to what I expected on my worst day. 2:50:04. On one of the fastest courses around. With a deep field amped to run fast.

Things started well enough. An easy flight to Chicago after work on Friday, no trouble getting to Pokey's apartment in Hyde Park. I woke up Saturday morning and took an easy 4.5 mile run, then had breakfast with Molz and a haircut, a meatball sandwich for lunch and a nap while we waited for Bethany to arrive from Pittsburgh. Our trip to the expo was efficient and dinner with the team was delicious. Sleep was a problem, though, Saturday night. Pokey's apartment was a University of Chicago dorm that didn't have air conditioning, but historical temperatures did not necessitate it.

Maybe it was three people sleeping in one room on top of the mid-day high in the mid 80s, but we sweltered. I cooled off by lying on the floor for a while, which helped. At some point, however, I evidently got up and tried to leave, getting as far as into the hallway

before Pokey woke up, asked me what I was doing, and I answered "I have no idea what I'm doing."

All three of us woke up at 5, eager to feel the low in the mid 50s. When we got outside to catch the bus, we learned that those lows wouldn't be coming. It was already in the low 60s, and it did not feel cool.

We caught the bus and I met up with Molz and Garrett. Molz was in a much better spirit than before Richmond. We got off and I parted company with everyone and went to check my bag.

I met up with some of the GRC guys for a team photo that didn't happen and headed to the start with Scott Koonce. Time started moving a lot faster as the race approached and before I knew it, the gun went off.

I realized that a lot of people were way too far ahead in Corral A because just trying to keep a 6:10 mile meant swimming through a crowd. I saw Laura O'Hara briefly in the tunnel and just went with the flow for a while. 6:07.61 A little quick, but I was barely thinking, just trying to keep my breathing relaxed and stay away from crowds that could go down if someone trips. I wanted to see in front of me. 5:46.63 Even faster- I was thinking 5:52-5:55, but there was no use getting hung up on splits this early. 5:50.25 Much better, let's just move a little faster, it will all add up over a mile. Sloane was around here, he said something, but I couldn't understand him. 5:40.93 Perfect! Just maintain this rhythm and I'll be in the right place. Keep it up until mile 21 then start pushing. Wound up with Mark Buschman from the Howard County Striders, with whom I ran part of Parks. 5:35.09 Fast, but I didn't think I needed to slow dramatically. 5:44.04 Busch mentioned it was a little slow, again, I didn't want to overreact. The fast previous mile gave me a cushion. 5:39.30 Great. Had some gu. Heard Madeline Harms to my right! 5:44.33 Cruised along in the shade. 5:36.50 Oh deary me! A little fast! 5:40.20 Saw Javed Gangjee off to the side. Yelled "Happy birthday!" but he didn't hear me, so I got close, and yelled his name. He turned, I repeated my greeting and he yelled for me. 5:39.09 Started running with a big pack that included Tera Moody, one of the better US women and one with whom I identified because of a common inability to sleep. I think hers is chronic insomnia, whereas I hope I can fix mine once doctors rip my tonsils out. 5:41.90 Feeling great- still not breathing hard, just floating along.5:52.63 Woah, I didn't realize we slowed down, but I was hanging with the pack, and for once, I was acquiescent to a mob mentality. Passed the half in 1:15:16- a 3:03 PR! I have to let the good times keep rolling! 5:56.20 Slowed to take some water and gu, but caught up with the pack a little later. 6:06.49 Ok, I rushed too much to catch the pack. My god, it's sunny out here. When did it get so hot? I thought I was still recovering from my effort to surge back up to the pack.

6:08.93 I've been dropped and am running alone. 6:13.00 The wind is getting bad. I am dizzy. Maybe my sunglasses are too tight, I'll take them off. Gosh, it's so sunny. 13:11.74 I couldn't find the mile marker, just stupid kilometers. I was terrified I had dipped into the 7s 6:35.44 hit 20 miles in 1:58:49. Still under six minute pace. If I keep this up, I can run 2:36. Took some water and gu, this will be the last one. I start seeing runners milling around the sidewalks, some sitting down. 6:58.50 Oh carp! My right arm and foot are numb. Did I have a stroke? What am I going to do? Cotterell and Murphy pass me, and I initially see Charlie Van Gombos. What is he doing here? Am I going crazy? I stop and untie my right shoe- maybe it's too tight and is cutting off the circulation to my foot. When I try to start running again, my quads seize up. This is bad. 9:11.13 I see Molz, standing my the side of the road, dripping. He yells for me. Shit, he dropped out? I see Garrett a few yards ahead of him. I start to lose hope. After a while, I sit down on the curb for a while and try to catch my breath. It's not so much of a choice as it is the only thing my body can do. I am so hot. I can't think. Three minutes pass,I have to get going.

9:57.54 I see a water stop, I pass it and pull over behind it and help myself to five cups and lean against the rail of a bridge. If I am going to have water, I am going to enjoy it! 8:31.57 Took a while to walk, stretch out my calves. Man, this marathon blows. 7:04.02 Started running more constantly. Saw a Pacers girl. Aw man, I really am falling back. Saw Javed in here somewhere, or at least heard him. He yelled for me to keep my head up, I tried to comply. 8:00.43 Back in the shade, but I am tired. Stop to walk a few times- at this point, what does it matter? Maybe Kate will catch me and I can run with her, despite her efforts to avoid ever running with me. (she ended up running 2:52, a 10 minute PR) I stop for a while, then I see Pat Hughes run by. Maybe I should try to run in with him! I start to run after him, for five seconds. Then I stop again. Aw, screw it!! I keep jogging, though. Let's finish this abortion of a race. 1:31.70 Yeah, that's over. Thank God...

As I walked around, trying to keep my legs from seizing, I analyzed everything, the wrong way as it turned out. I had run almost a minute faster two years ago at Marine Corps, in trainers, starting in the back of the pack and forced to run 7:49s the first few miles. Without the long runs, without the 100+ mile weeks, without the workouts that I did this summer. Was I that colossal of a failure that with all of this marathon training, I still wasn't good enough? I was embarrassed that the neophyte marathoner that I was two years ago outperformed the seasoned distance runner I had become. Even though my memory is unusually sharp, I could barely remember most of the last three hours. Granted, I have recounted it here, but what I have written was just a sliver of what happened. I don't remember when exactly I saw Madeline and Javed. I saw Billy and Christiam a few times. I don't know why I didn't just slow down to a crawl, totally recover and try to still run under 2:35. Because I wasn't in my right mind. I thought I could just run harder and drop time when something was affecting me negatively.

But I knew I was better than that. What about that mountain run? What about the ease with which I had run some of my long runs?

So, what happened? Did I go out too fast? No, I don't think I did. The entire time I was averaging 5:40-high between miles for and 12, I ran completely within myself. Mike Cotterell, who ran a great race for a 10 minute PR, said it plainly to me on the walk to meet up with everyone else "You aren't a hot weather runner." Evidently it was 67? degrees at the start, and most of the first half was in the shade. It was 74 degrees by the time I hit 21 miles and most of the rest of the race was in the sun. It wasn't oppressively hot, but it was much warmer than I would prefer to be running anything longer than 10k. It snuck up on me, and before I knew it, it kicked me to the ground. Now it was after the race, and I was wandering, still sweating, and I came across a fountain. When I tried to jump in, two volunteers told me it was a bad idea, and I asked for directions to Lake Michigan. On my way there, Molz called, so I sat down to take it and looked ahead, right into the eyes of Timothy James Caramore, watching the race with his lovely new wife Elizabeth. It had been two years since I had seen TC Booyeah, so it was a pleasure to catch up. Eventually, Molz and Garrett found us, and we had a nice little reunion.

Men of the Spider track team

Should I have dropped out at 21, when I started losing my mind? Probably. Once I sat down in the street -- definitely. I don't think I hurt myself, though. I came the closest when I tried to run with Hughes after a dead stop toward the end. My feet were cramped like crazy and I had bad blood blisters on two toes, but nothing terrible. The mental kick in the balls, though, from suffering through the last few miles was pretty severe.

I caught up with Pokey, who was also disappointed with his time, but to be honest, the way his legs were feeling a few weeks ago it was great just for him to be able to run. And he's over the hump of his first marathon. I never saw Eric Anish, but he ran 2:42 I think. Murphy was happy enough with his time. Reaves wasn't, nor were Bain, Sloane and Shannon. Dickson and Ernst dropped out after 21. Laura gave up, Katie Jarocki blew up, Kylee almost caught up. Jess Gangjee almost didn't make it to the finish. Medical assistants had to walk her in before she pushed them away to run her last 100 meters, but when they put the medal around her neck, she passed out and spent the next four hours in the medial tent with a 102 degree temperature.

My unnamed rival ran pretty well. I was bummed to have not even realized he was in the race.

Anne-Marie Alderson had the biggest race- a 33 minute PR, after finishing an Ironman six weeks prior.

While having lunch with Bethany and Pokey a few hours afterward, I think Pokey suggested, "why not do another one?" Then I realized, I would be in DC for the Marine Corps Marathon. The weather has been great the last two years. What's to lose? Besides my confidence? I decided then that I would give it another shot in 21 days. I took a five mile jog around Hyde Park Monday morning and a one mile sprint through the Detroit Airport to catch my connecting flight home and then started organizing people to cheer and support me around the Marine Corps Course. Then I got a great message from Howard Nippert.

It wasn't a phone call, but he looks like a badass in this picture.

Listen up, Boy.
You had a great first part of Chicago.
I was hoping you would get back on the horse and race soon, but not too soon.
I can tell you right now that you impressed me, not only convincing me that you're in the best shape I've seen you in (of course I wasn't around you guys all the time) since I've known you, but your confidence was at an all-time high. It took a bucket of balls to jump out and lead the Alumni race and make those guys come get you. Now, take that preparation and confidence, temper it with a little taste of knowledge and experience, and perhaps a better idea of what you're capable of in terms of finish time and run a smart, calculated, properly executed race.
You went all the way this weekend, so realize that there isn't going to be much training this week or even in a week or two going into MCM. You've got 2 weeks and a taste and most of that should be recovery and some stuff to shake the doo-doo from your legs. Don't tap into your muscles as they try to recover with a long run or a long interval workout. Keep things short until next weekend if you want to do something a taste longer, but not long.
The big mistake you can make that can screw the pooch is to think you can add more training between now and then. A marathon that goes "bad" takes longer to recover from than one that goes "good" because you finished and ran it the hard way. The second half takes way more out of you when it lasts 20 minutes longer and you don't back out.
Just my 2 cents.
Keep the faith, son. You're in great shape. Keep the fitness up with little short things for staying sharp that won't tap into you while you try to recover. Keep your confidence up as you go because the training hasn't gone anywhere. You're still as fit today as you were last week and you'll be as fit in 3 weeks as you were heading into last week.
Be smart and don't be scared and try to "make up" for something that was lacking (because it doesn't seem anything was) going into Chicago.
HO

Great advice.

So, I'm ready to go. Five days later, I am feeling like I'm 95%, but true to Howard's advice I'm keeping it easy. I'm talking to Steve about some specific workouts to keep myself primed for Marine Corps later today. I'll get in a nice easy run with some GRC guys tomorrow and start in earnest to redeem myself.

I took Tuesday off, and ran a very easy 6 miles Wednesday around the Mall with Melissa. Thursday, I ran my typical Hains Point loop for 9.55, and today I will run around Falls Church until I feel I've had enough.

Woke up in the morning, felt nothing like P. Diddy

Somehow my unconscious mind recognized the measure of time we observe and woke me up just at the right moment for me to grab my phone and see the numbers change from 6:59 to 7:00. That was nifty, until I realized that I was due on the starting line of the Prevent Cancer 5k in exactly one hour. Wasn't I planning on waking up an hour earlier? If P.Diddy feels like this when he wakes up, I completely understand why he'd send someone to Queens to get him a sugar cookie. (Thank you, Lindsey, for introducing me to this musical monstrosity.)
Thankfully, I had packed most of what I needed the night before, so I grabbed my backpack and ran out the door, hoping to catch the first metro train, the only one that would get me to the city in time. I didn't take the time to put my shoes on, which became an issue when I hit the escalators in the station, but I made it onto the platform in time for a train. Hitting Foggy Bottom shortly after 7:35 gave me a shot, and I ran down the street toward the Lincoln Memorial as fast as I could with my backpack on. After passing the memorial, I saw the finish line banner on Ohio Drive. I ran to the bathroom, came out and was "ready" to "race" at 7:45. I should have just put my flats on while riding the metro, rather than mess with my trainers for a few minutes. I got to the line and saw I wouldn't have to contend with many people- I should be free to pursue a sub 15:30 or 16:00 time without any threat from other runners. My knees were sore as hell from running with that backpack, and my lower back wasn't feeling too great, but I figured with a flat course, I should be okay. I wrung the sweat out of my shorts (it was in the low 70s by 7:45) and got a move on. Pretty soon I could only hear my own footsteps. I looked up and saw an airplane on its way into Reagan, I thought I would race it, like Carl Lewis.


Easy!
I bounded over the bridge and on toward Hains Point. I heard my first mile split- 5:04, and was feeling alright with that. Not bad for having woken up an hour ago. After dodging a few cyclists, I started to come up on the turnaround. 8:03. Not great, but I would see what I could do- I certainly wasn't killing myself in the first mile like last week, but I was also a little more prepared and it was a little cooler last week. My left patella started to feel every step, and I was getting concerned. I saw my competition lagging behind, and I knew I wouldn't have to worry about them.
Before looking at my watch, I figured I would hit the second mile in 5:25- and I was right on. This race was over- there was no need to try to run 4:50 for my last mile to break 16:00- I was totally over it. I eased up and started chatting with the slower runners working on their first mile. many of them were first-time racers, which was nice to learn. The volunteer at the bridge reminded me I could run the tangents, but I told him I was okay not doing so at that point. I slowed to a jog on Ohio and ran 6:15 for the third mile. Then I kicked it in with a 30 to add some excitement to a finish that saw me with a lead of 38 seconds. Not the fast 5k I was hoping to run.

The University of...Austin, in Austin, Massachusetts

I've had a lot of harebrained schemes. Boston was one. I thought things were tied up rather nicely when Jake Marren said I could go along with him and Ella. I thought it strange that he'd plan on driving to and from a marathon several states away, but I ignored that when I heard his travel schedule would meet mine exactly.
It became apparent later that driving was not much of an option. I had not driven a manual since 1998, and Ella did not like driving near people. Both factors excluded driving back to DC as a viable option, because Jake would have just finished a grueling race. It worked for Melissa and me after Marine Corps, but Pittsburgh and Washington is a big difference from Washington and Boston.

The Trip Up
When Jake told me he was going to fly, I was relieved that he had come to his senses. Obviously I would have to find a way there, I was glad he made the good decision to reduce the toll on his body. As it turned out, it would be crucial for him. Instead of doing the trip in stages, I decided to take a straight shot on a Greyhound. Big mistake. Last year, Brandon G and I drove to Boston from Pittsburgh with Sara Roberts, leaving around midnight so we would have most of the daytime to spend in the city. I figured I would be more likely to sleep on a 10-hour bus ride, but that was before I figured in that I would be one of the last people on the bus at 1:15 am, squeezed into the last seat on the bus. The corpulence of the passenger behind me prevented me from reclining my seat, but luckily with the aid of Benedryl I was able to become loopy enough to pass out for a bit a few hours into the trip, then wake up at 5:30 as we were pulling into the NY/NJ Port Authority Bus Terminal. I stepped into a world I hardly understood and greatly feared. First off, I had no idea where in the world the bus station actually was. I saw signs for the exit, but they told me to climb several levels. Was I deep underground? I explored for a while until I decided that was a bad idea, and hid in a corner until it was time to board the bus to Boston. By then the sun was up and sleeping wasn't happening, in spite of the cold medicine. I arrived in Boston at 11 and proceeded to carry my too-heavy bag around the marathon expo to get my 5k packet and see Jess Etchen at the Brooks booth. I then took the orange line out to Sullivan Square to find the hotel where I was staying with Brandon G for the evening. A few blocks into industrial Somerville on Broadway, I realized I was now in a bad neighborhood. After using some rudimentary Spanish, I managed to get more detailed directions to the hotel, and upon arrival promptly crashed for a 2.5 hour nap. I woke at did a 4.5 mile run to loosen up, and it felt really good. Having taken the previous day off helped a bit, but I was surprised I was not more exhausted, thanks to my lack of sleep. After dinner and a short walk, I worked on falling asleep on the pile of springs the La Quinta Inn called a cot.

B.A.A. 5k
I did not wake up to the weather or sensations I was hoping to find. It was cold and drizzling at 5:45 am and I finally felt the exhaustion I was missing the day before. Thank goodness I was only running 5k. I figured I could gut it out. The warmup wasn't terrible- finding a bathroom and the bag check was, though. Upon reaching the starting line, I noticed nobody was doing strides. The BAA course marshals were telling runners not to pass in front of the start. Effing ridiculous. Eventually a critical mass decided that was unacceptable and we did a few. After a miserable rendition of God Bless America, I wanted to lie down and die. That would have to wait. The gun went off and I instantly was in 40th place. Having run the last three races with my intentions focused on running no faster than 5:20, it was a shock. My legs were already heavy from the start, but I decided since the race wouldn't last that long, I might as well hurt. After about a minute or so, I started to move up, but it was ultimately too much too fast. I approached the mile, after about 700 meters of climbing at 5:05. I figured my goal of 15:20, given the way I was feeling, was likely out, but 15:30 might still be reasonable if I had broken out of the intertia I felt at the start. Plus, I had the downhill to help me. I clearly didn't take advantage of it enough, because I was getting thrashed on the way down. I lost track of how many people passed me, but it was not encouraging. Then, I cross two miles with a 5:16 split, leaving my only hopes for a fast race to a sub 16. I don't remember too much, except trying to maneuver all the turns that I didn't remember from the course map. I mowed down a few people in the last stretch of the third mile in 5:17, but by then all hopes of a sub 16 were also dashed. I tried my best to hold on with a 33 second finish and immediately started figuring out what went wrong. The bus ride, the lack of fast-start preparation, and a general bad attitude torpedoed my effort. I skipped the afternoon run and instead hung out with the Richmond gang that ran- Watson, Hannay, Sherry, her dad and their gang.

Marathon
I stayed with Shara Siegel right on the course, at mile 23.75. I got up at nine to do a run on the course before the races started, but I succumbed to temptation to watch an episode of Seinfeld before I left. I ran 5.75 miles out to miles 18 and back, speeding up on the way back, but was forced onto the sidewalk by the police with two miles to go. Bummer. I still kept my pace down, but there was a lot of dodging and leading out of the way to avoid pedestrians, chairs and food vendors. Afterward, I cleaned up and had a bit to eat and went back down to watch the leaders and eventually everyone else come through. I really don't know how to make this interesting, so I will just list the people I managed to see. Greg Costello came along, looking a little worn out. Jared Markowitz. I nearly missed Seann Mulcahy, because I forgot how slight he was. Jeff Watson. JARRIN and Chris Bain, looking tough despite intervening illnesses in their training. Matt Hannay, dutifully accompanying his wife Sherry to a PR and her first marathon under 3:00. Mark Hunkele. Matt Ernst, who hammed it up and also PRed. Mark Courtney. Shannon O'Neill.
I missed Joe Vella, Matias, Nick End, Tim Schuler, Craig Gaites, Dave and Laura O'Hara, Moira Davenport. Sarah Taylor and Bizarro Bridget, and Joe Sikora. A number of people I hoped to see ended up not running- Larry and Brian Quinn, Paul McCaffery, Liz Kennon.
I am really getting tired of writing this entry, because it reminds me of how tired I was at the end of all of this.
So that's it.

How to improve

Stress, adapt, recover

I'm not going to get any better unless I refine my training. Usually this means running faster, and any hope of doing that on Saturday spirited away when I saw how quickly the snow was accumulating and how low the temperature was remaining. I had planned to run 10 miles on the Fairfax Cross County Trail then take in the George Mason Invitational, at which Richmond was running, but an early e-mail from Steve alerted me that the team would not be making the trip because of the uncertain weather. Though I was disappointed to not be able to see the Spiders race and chat with Steve, I needed more sleep, so I promptly went back to bed until 1, which I hadn't done in a remarkable length of time.

By the time I woke, I saw the accumulation, and knew my revised plan for a hard run in Falls Church was short lived. I suited up for 15 degrees and headed out on a new route, and out and back starting in the neighborhood where I got lost on Tuesday. The great thing about snow, especially in northern Virginia, is that it is a deterrent to drivers, leaving the roads practically deserted. The problem is none of the roads were plowed. I worked this out to be a bonus, because my feet where hitting soft surfaces and all the traction I didn't have gave me a chance to economize my running form- and in a place where I used to yell at runners who I saw exhibiting bad form earlier in the decade. Running on slippery footing is the easiest way to see how bad your own form is because your progress will be inversely proportional to your wasted energy. You learn quickly, especially on hills, what motion goes to waste. The wind didn't help things, but made me want to push more.

By the time I was getting really adept at running in the snow, it was time to come in. I would have liked to have run longer, more than 9.75 miles, but the elements were starting to get to me. My eyelids were freezing closed, and the awful headband I got for winning the Jingle Bell Run for Arthritis in 2006, which I was using to cover my neck, was freezing and starting to scratch and chap all sides of my neck.

Despite my increasing efficiency, I averaged only 7:40 pace for 9.75 miles, but it was a good workout. It also cemented Virginia Lane as my sweet spot to run around Falls Church. Everyone should identify one such a stretch, no matter how short, where they can seem to do no wrong while running. If you reach it on a bad run, you seemingly always perk up and regain your composure. If you're having a great run, then look out world. In Pittsburgh, it's in Shadyside, along Emerson Street, a block from my old apartment.
In Richmond, it's around the Collegiate School.

That said, I can't wait to run on dry ground and see if my form improvement "sticks."

You get your way, Emily, but not because I'm smart

Well, Emily Ward, you got your way. I'm taking some time off, but not because I am smart and listening to you, but because I'm actually quite stupid.

No, I didn't hurt myself running.

Yes, much like the rest of my life, my reckless diet has betrayed me.

Last night after the "workout," I inflamed Dave and my tastebuds by talking about McDonald's. In previous week, Mike Smith had done the same to me but we hadn't followed up on it.

Well, I woke up several times that night with paralyzing indigestion. What in the world is this? Am I an adult? I need Tums! I have none! Ugh.

Needless to say, my plan to run to work ended up like many of my morning run schemes.

I spent most of the day acknowledging what I ignored before- I shouldn't be eating fast food. If I am serious about losing weight and running efficiently, I need to cut out the worthless foods I eat.

"Anyone who's ever built an empire cowered in the floor in pain where you are right now."

So, I will take today off. Depending on how I feel, I may take tomorrow off, too. Then when I am back in gear, it's time to eat for nutrition, not expedience.

An artist's rendering of me at work.

You there- cabbie! Take me running!

Since I was completely wrong about which weekend Matt Ciccone was visiting (and when I was going to run with him in the city), I was now free to join the GRC fellows for a long run on Sunday. Jake Marren suggested Greenbelt Park in Maryland, and when I realized how close that was to the College Park metro station, I thought that was just a splendid idea. I noted it was also close to New Carrollton, though a slightly more complex route, so I wrote directions from both.
I woke up a little later than I would have liked, and thought that trying to transfer to a Green Line metro to College Park was risky, so I took the Orange all the way to New Carrollton, confident in my directions. The trouble started when I couldn't seem to find a road sig confirming that I was on Veterans Parkway. Had I written a few cross streets to look for, I would have been fine, because I crossed one- Ellin. But, I didn't know that was right and turned around and continued on the shoulder of Route 50, which was a terrible idea. When I saw signs for the Landover Metro Center, I knew I was out of my element. I found a Giant grocery store, locked my bike to a pole and caught a taxi idling in the parking lot. I realized only minutes later that I easily could have taken my bike in the cab, especially when I realized how far I had deviated from my course. I arrived to find Klim, Marren, Jake III, Jarrin, Karl, Murphy, Frank, Bain and I can't remember who else ready to go. Three six-mile loops would probably be too much, but two loops, an extra mile detour on another trail and 15 minutes around the nearby high school would suffice for 15 miles. I stuck to the front, not sure how I would feel compared to Saturday's meltdown, but I felt surprisingly good. I hadn't run the kind of quick, steep hills we saw a lot of today for a while, so I took some time to adjust, but it was a good run. I realized at the end how tired I was, but a strawberry waffle at Plato's Diner in College Park helped that. I was really happy with the trail selection, and it honestly didn't feel like 13 miles of running, despite what my watch said. Murphy kindly took me back to Landover to recover my bike, which I managed to park about a half mile from the Landover Metro station.
The best part was a total absence of pain or discomfort in my left leg. That's real progress, and I'm excited about it. It was weird that running 5:08 mile pace felt more comfortable than strolling along, but I didn't feel a bit of pain while running hard.
I'll shoot to maintain 65 miles again this week. With the conclusion foggy on what caused my leg weirdness, there's no use pushing too much mileage now. I'm going to take a day off every two weeks, but also try to not lose too much mileage in that day, so that will give me a medium long run every two weeks, but will also get a minor scaleback in mileage. That should help keep me from overdoing it (maybe) and give me a day of no running in which I will write about something totally unrelated to running, to reward fellows like Dave Wilson and Jason Beery whose interest in running rivals my interest in baseball, but who read this blog nonetheless. Thank you to all of you who fit in that category, you feed my vanity that people care about what I am writing.