Another sweaty summer

I neglected the hell out of writing for the last three months, here I go:

After a spring where I ran whatever pace I wanted with little resistance, once June weather began in earnest, I eventually had to relent to the elements. Try as I might, I can't change how my body dissipates heat, which is to say not well at all. I find the limit to mind over matter. I think about the late Sammy Wanjiru, who was able to hold a pace others thought to be a stunt in the 2008 Olympic Marathon's hot and humid weather, yet he came out on top in a huge Olympic record time. Why can't I do that? We had divergent experiences at the 2010 Chicago Marathon, the only time I raced him (I gave him a few seconds of a head start by starting several rows back), but I always wonder if I can push myself harder. I can't, but it was not for lack of trying.

Aside from a few days in March and the regrettable warm weather in Cleveland, I was lucky to not have to deal with too many hot days this spring. That's coming to an end, though to be fair it's actually Summer now.I took two days off after I couldn't manage one Sunday, but found much nicer temperatures Wednesday night (June 13) I set out for what would be my last New Virginia Manor loop. To say I was aggressive would be fair, I was out close to 6:00 pace for the first two miles to get to the loop, then let loose and ran fast enough for the two loops to average 5:50 for 10 miles. It felt like that was my natural state. I knew it might be the last good run I have in the summer and in northern Virginia for a long time. I absolutely relished all 12.5 miles of it. I took the next day off, then ran a strained three miles Friday (June 15) evening down to the W&OD and back up through the metrobus road. My mom was in town for a wedding, so I took her to Lake Accotink for some running Saturday (June 16), and I tried the place out for the first time without running the six miles from Vienna. I liked it, though it was pretty warm and I insisted on running with some mountain bikers as long as I could. I went clockwise then counterclockwise plus a little extra for 8.5 miles. The next morning (June 17), after a day of shuttling stuff to my new house, I went out to Arlington to run the Little Falls loop that I didn't do nearly enough. It was unremarkable, though it was a worthwhile option to have.

Monday (June 18) evening, I continued my farewell tour with a Steelers loop at 6:30 pace. It was cool and pleasant. I took Tuesday off, then Wednesday (June 20) fought the evening heat to run a Westmoreland one last time. By five miles, I was in trouble, and I bailed out on Haycock and finished up with 6.5. With the temperature pushing 95, I didn't need to make myself hate running.

The next night (June 21) I finished my move with a van full of furniture and ends (no odds). Another hot, but dry, day- 98 at one point. When I took the van back to the West Falls Church, I decided to get my last run in and make it functional- I'd run the nine miles between my homes. I started out well- clutching a squeeze bottle of gatorade I would earn the right to drink. I slightly altered a Williamsburg and made it four miles at 6:30 pace, then cruised along Glebe feeling like a million bucks. The steep downhill to the Chain Bridge pushed my average to 6:21 for the first 5.5 miles, and I gulped the Gatorade when I crossed the Potomac and bid farewell to Virginia. I ran along Canal, with little traffic to hassle me, and turned up Arizona, about to tackle the 2.3-mile climb to Tenleytown. As I shot up the hill, though, everything crashed. I couldn't see, my heart started racing but feeling weak, my lungs began to hurt, and I had no recourse but to sit the hell down. I'm not sure how long I was there, but when I summoned the strength to resume, I jogged gingerly. After a few minutes climbed Arizona, it became apparent I would have been unwise to continue. So, I walked, still light headed. I kept walking until I reached Rockwood- a flat mile from the house. I jogged slowly but surely and finished the job, collapsing into the first-floor bathtub to rinse myself cool. I downed two quarts of gatorade and went about trying -- and failing -- to carry my stuff upstairs. I gave up soon and went to bed, waking up four hours later, falsely panicked that I had overslept.  The next day at work, my head felt like it was cement, and my arms could barely function. I think I am pretty much ran myself to exhaustion the night before. I think it was the most miserable I have been while running, and I probably pushed myself harder than I ever had before, though it was a bad idea to do so. I took the Friday off, smartly.

June 23- I slept in and ran a little too late to beat the rising temperatures. I headed off on what I'm calling my bad ending loop- around to Connecticut, down to Dupont and back up Massachusetts and Wisconsin. I made it halfway up Massachusetts before I overheated and decided to play it safe, in case I had done myself grievous harm Thursday night, and walked the rest of the way after running 5.75 miles.

June 24- Sunday morning I slept in a little bit too much again and resigned myself to an easy 5 miles on my Fordham loop that I adapted from my AU workout warmup.

July 4 I headed up to BCC to run around the track while some of the guys worked out. Ran around with Wiggy a lot and had a total of eight miles. In the afternoon, Witty and I went out and did a Hannay's Gate and I had to stop several times in the fifth mile to let me heart rate slow down.

July 5-6 Thursday and Friday I ran the same Partial Stefan loop, up Wisconsin to Somerset, then to the CCT and down to Albemarle, and back home. Thursday I was on my own and Friday I finally had a run with both Sam and Ryan.

July 7- I was up early Saturday to avoid the 106-degree heat, starting at 6:30, and even then I felt like I had slept in too much. Luckily I had only 9 miles to meet my 60 mile goal for the week, so I simply did a Rockland, stayed on Western to Chevy Chase Circle, came back on Nebraska then headed down Wisconsin to the Hearst field, did a few laps then came back.

July 8- Sunday afternoon, I wanted until the rains were supposed to come in the late afternoon. I set out around 5, with the temperatures still in the 90s, and journeyed down Porter to the Western Ridge Trail and eventually Beach Drive. When I hit Beach, the wind picked up as a thunderstorm brewed, and my first crossing of Rock Creek was greeted with a dramatic thunderclap. The temperature was more bearable and I braced for rain that didn't come. I turned up Bingham and then a long climb up Nebraska home.

July 9- Monday was dramatically better, and it showed in my pace. I ran up Nebraska to Connecticut, to the CCT. I started taking splits at the two-mile mark and marveled as I went 6:10, 6:00, 5:30 for the three miles before I eased up for a mile then was back up those dang Albemarle hills and off for home on Butterworth, a slightly better alternative to Albemarle. I ended up hitting 10.1 miles at 6:30 pace, my fastest in a while.

July 10- Tuesday morning's run to work was a pain. It was humid, I was tired and my knees hurt. Military Road has no sidewalk to speak of, and that made crossing Rock Creek Park a lot less pleasant than I had anticipated. By the time I got to Fort Totten Park, I was feeling beaten up, so I ran to the Brookland Metro and took that the rest of the way. I still got 6.5 miles at 6:55 pace. In the evening, I set off for a run in Somerset and hit a rainstorm less than a mile in, which was fantastic. It felt refreshing to have the water all over the place, blinding me at times, cooling me off constantly, providing entertainment. I ran some turns that had calf-deep torrents running down the hill. After my shoes were completely soaked, the knowledge that it couldn't get any worse released me to enjoy it more. I ended up getting 6.25 miles at a little under 7:00 pace for 13.75 total.

The next morning I headed out on my own to run a 10 mile loop in Somerset. It was incredibly humid and I was soaked within 20 minutes. It was a decent neighborhood for running, with little traffic, and I can easily see a road race working in there, assuming cooperation from the residents. I ended up averaging 7:30s, which

Friday morning I was in Pittsburgh and running eight miles around Chatham Village before taking a nap and heading down to my hotel for a conference. The weather was cool and dry and it looked like I'd have a good stint of training while I was home.

NOPE The next morning, I was up at 5:30 to warm up for my organization's fitness 5k. It was humid as all get out. I got down to the Convention Center and we were off. I burst out into the lead and passed by my department director, who was directing participants, and pointed out that that's why they hired me- to win the fitness 5k. I cruised over the Allegheny to the North Shore and ran alone out to the casino- 8:30 out. I turned and crossed paths with a variety of delegates and staff members and waved to them. I chose one of the bridges, bounded up the steps and back over the river and back to the convention center. I saw the organizer. Oh hello! Surprised to see me here? Yes, she was, because apparently the run finished on the lower level. I ran even splits for 17:00 on what I believe to have been 5k+, because there was no indication of when to turn around. I went out on the jail trail to finish up 12 miles.

I slept in the next morning and ran in the afternoon. It was pretty damned hot. I took Second Avenue out to Hazlewood Avenue and climbed one of the more miserable hills in recently memory. I must have been out of practice running in Pittsburgh. By the time I got to Schenley Park, I opted out of my golf course loop and headed back down the Panther Hollow Trail and back on the Jail Trail. I was pretty beaten up and ready to be done after 12 miles.

I took Monday off. Tuesday evening I headed out from the William Penn to Penn Avenue, then Butler until One Wild Place, then wound up the hill to Negley, then Penn until Children's Hospital, then Liberty. I had a life-sustaining drink of water near the Church Brew Works and continued my cruise down Liberty, totaling 12.

Wednesday morning I did five miles around Chatham Village in the morning, then eight around Fox Chapel in the evening. Climbing Guyasuta from Squaw Run was no joke. Thursday morning I did an easy five around Squaw Valley Park, and eight in the evening in Mt. Lebanon. Both were really tough, weatherwise.

Friday morning I struggled through wretched humidity in Frick Park and was lucky to get about seven miles in. I supplemented that with five around Chatham Village that evening. I took Saturday off to get more rest, because I clearly needed it. Sunday, I headed back to Frick and actually got a solid 10 miles in.

I finally got some new shoes, I realized only after looking up my old order confirmation e-mails that I had been wearing the same two pairs, aside from workouts and some long runs, since early January, almost 2,100 miles.

I'm not quite sure what I did for a while, and I won't delay in finishing this up just to figure that out. There was a lot of doubling and I steadily increased my mileage: 80, 85, 90, 96, and 100 the week ending when I went out to Steve's cabin. I do remember a lot of struggle against the heat and humidity and dissatisfaction with running in northwest DC. It's not to say that it's bad. It's the best part of the city in which to live to be a long distance runner, but in comparison, it's terrible compared to what I had in McLean. The traffic relegates me to the sidewalks, which are crowded with people. Though I have mapped and explored extensively, I have yet to find anything that compares to even my middling loops before. The climbs uphill at the end of every run might be making me stronger, but I don't need them every day. I'm a few miles from Rock Creek Park, but in the summer, it's so muggy and bereft of wind, it's miserable. When it cools down, it will get dark too early to be able to safely run there. And every time we have a heavy rain, trees come down and block trails. Despite all of this, however, I've been able to run decent mileage.

Possibly adding to my frustration is the savagery with which the summer beat me. I don't want to belabor the point, but I'm going to. I should just stop trying to run fast during the summer. Nothing good comes from it. I'll be fine when the weather cools, but for two months, I'm useless faster than 7:00 pace. So, as long as I live here, I won't even plan on racing in the summer.

Friday night, Sam, Beth, Drea and I drove out to Pembroke to Steve and Lori's cabin for an abbreviated training camp. We drove out to Pandapas Park Saturday morning and ran about 10.5 miles on the Poverty Creek Trail, out and back. The climatic change from DC was remarkable, we were running at 10:30 am and feeling great. That afternoon we ran to the War Spur overlook, gingerly, thanks to all of the rocks on the trail. The view was magnificent, as (almost) always. We tried to eat three dishes at Kal Bee among the four of us, but my resistance to pork was our weak spot, and we yielded.

That night, we got to bed significantly earlier than the night before, but woke much earlier after a sudden rain shower hammered the tin roof like thousands of gunshots. Earplugs fixed that. Later that morning, we headed up to the Mountain Lake hotel to meet the Richmond team for its preseason camp long run. At noon, it was still 59 degrees, with a wet chill. It was absolutely ideal. I caught up with a bunch of the guys and met the freshmen as we headed up the gravel road past the lake. We took a detour to see the overlook but the group split up later on. Sam and I continued on the road, climbing like crazy, then turned. On the way back, Sam wanted to let the thing be pressed and I went with him for a while, until my knee started to get sore. he was going less than I was anyway, and I decided to explore the dirt (mud) trails for a while. I ended up getting 2:12, which I equated to 20 miles.

The next evening, Witty and I went out for a run through Rock Creek Park via Calvert. It began pouring and we just relished it.

Thursday evening I went to Falls Church to see my barber and get a decent run. I ended up doing a Slate Run and reveling in the empty suburban streets and I had all to myself.

Saturday I went out to Bull Run Park for a potential long run. The humidity and my fatigue from a long week of not sleeping well doomed me, and I ended up only getting in a little more than 90 minutes for 13 and another 100 mile week.

Sunday morning, I slept in and ran down to Rock Creek Park and around the Western Ridge trail until I got to the field off of Military where I planned to do a fartlek. Only, I didn't want to anymore. I ran some lame laps around the field and headed home for a total of eight. That afternoon, I did the Connecticut loop until I hit the Massachusetts Bridge, and instead took the trail down to Rock Creek Park and ran to the Melvin Hazen Trail for 12.

Monday morning I did the Van Ness Street loop Scott and I did a few weeks ago for eight, then in the afternoon ran to the Donaldsons Run Trail with Billzzz for another eight. It was a little too warm and the park had no water fountain.

Tuesday I did a partial Stefan in the morning in wretched humidity, which drained me down to my lowest weight in years. It was about 90 degrees after work when I did a Potomac loop, extended around the Capitol, and I was really feeling parched by five miles. 13 total.

Wednesday  (Aug. 29) I did a Hannay's Gate five miles easy in the morning, then went to BCC for a workout. I was feeling great after a 2:32 800 warmup. I stuck in the middle of the pack first the first mile and went through in 4:59, then 4:55 for the second, feeling like it was natural. Then, on the 400 jog after the second, I started feeling like I couldn't get a deep breath in. I didn't make it 100 meters in. I came back and started the 5:04 mile with the B group, but was a second slow at the 400 and wasn't feeling up to the rest, so I got off the track and cooled down.

Thursday (Aug 30) I did another Hanny's Gate in the morning, then a Nellie Custis in the evening for 18 total.
Friday morning I woke up without any interest in running, so I didn't. It was my first day off all month, but after 413 miles, I figured why not.

Saturday morning I woke up to hear Molz, Guy and Andy talking about how humid it was. It couldn't be anything worse than what I've felt this summer, I thought. YES, IT COULD. It was awful. It wasn't just uncomfortable, it was hard to breathe. Lauder and Dana picked Hunter and me up a little while later and took us to Pole Green Park. I hadn't been there since 2005, while working for the Herald-Progress. I took off on my warmup around the course and started to feel a stabbing sensation under my shoulder. I joined Watson for a bit and wore my 10-year-old spikes, at which Rhue continues to amaze that they are still in one piece.

I lined up on the far end of a field of 70-some and judged my chances for success. Earlier in the week, I wanted to run as close to 5:00 pace as possible. With the humidity as bad as it was, that was unfeasible. I decided I might as well see how long I could hang on and just have the race kick me into action. I wouldn't be in the same shape as last year, given that I'm a month behind in my training, so I didn't want to set even moderate goals without extremely favorable conditions, lest I lose the results in a cloud of frustration.

Instead, I was lost in a cloud of runners as we ran across the field at Pole Green Park. The last time I was here, it was covered in booths during the Hanover Tomato Festival. I was shocked I was able to run across the grass as fast as I was- during my warmup I could barely jog. It must be the adrenaline of my first race since May. I just kind of sat back in the lead group for a while and followed Kyle and Adam. I realized after most of a lap that I had been running pretty fast for a while, but had no idea how long of how far we were on the course. We came back into the open field and soon enough I found out how fast we were going- 4:51 for the mile. Lauder reportedly said "he's going to pay for that." I kept pushing, but I was starting to feel the combination of thick air and the fastest mile I had run in months. I hung on for a while, but started to fall out of the pack and then was on my own. After what I guess to have been eight minutes, my breathing was a wreck, and I was just pushing for the heck of it, to finish the race. I went through the second mile in 10:10 and just couldn't wait for it to be over. People kept passing me and I had no motivation to stop them. I hoped some animal would come out of the woods and tear me to pieces so I didn't have to finish the race. Not soon enough, I got to the last stretch, and Lauder yelled to "use your weight on the downhill." I tried to kick, but two chaps caught me at the end as we crossed the line and ran right into the finishers waiting to have their numbers recorded. I ended up running 16:05, surprising, given how dead I was at the end. Looking back, I could have pushed more, if I was ready for that kind of pain. I paid lip service to cooling down, but not very much. I was going to enjoy the rest of my day off.

Until I woke up from my nap when Benford showed up to run with Molz. he had my shoes with him, and I figured I might as well go for another run to clear out my legs, after wearing spikes. The first 10 minutes were a rough sequence of belches and back cracks as I dealt with my only-recently-digested lunch, then  an ankle turn. I shook it all off, though. We ran through Byrd Park's Northbank trail, new to me, and over the Lee pedestrian Bridge for a loop of Belle Isle before heading back over the Nickel Bridge and back to Molz's. I hit 10 miles in  61:50, for 6:11 pace, most of that made up in the second half. I found out later that the temperature was in the 90s, but I felt a lot better than I had in the morning. And I ended up getting my 100 miles in for the week, to boot.

The next morning I went off on my own over the Nickel Bridge again to Forest Hill Avenue, then pretty much went backwards on the marathon course. I passed Kyle and Conor heading the other way, but wanted to stick with my route rather than go with them. I was cruising along uncomfortably fast for the humid morning when I got to Stratford Hills and chased a guy down five miles in before heading up Rockfalls. The trip down was bereft of the normal breeze I enjoy so. I followed the detour from Riverside Drive up to Hugenot, then down the hill and over the new bridge to Panorama and through campus. I stopped at the track for water, 10 miles in, and headed up Towana and along Tree Chopt to Grove. I stopped at the mercifully-placed cooler and had a few drinks and gave myself an absolutely necessary splash of ice water in the face. The rest was just miserable. I was hitting the limit for the heat my body could handle and get rid of. When I got to the Boulevard, I stopped and walked back to Molz's. I got 14.25 and later that day decided against doubling.

I checked out the Google streetview of the Hugenot Bridge and saw this dude running

Labor Day morning, I ran from the line with Dickson, Murph, Fox, Tex, Outlaw and Seamus. It was again muggy, and my plans for 13 miles were quickly quashed by my general misery. I ended up getting 11. That evening, I headed down CT to Rock Creek, via Calvert, and headed up the trail toward Ridge Road. As I passed the zoo, though, I saw someone I thought I knew and for the rest of the run was unsure if I was going crazy or not.

Tuesday night I ran a Partial Stefan, but was having a rough time and barely finished seven miles. Wednesday I ran up Nebraska to Oregon and took Western back. That was difficult too, the humidity was killing me. The track workout was over quickly. I led the B group through 3/4 mile and felt the stabbing sensation in my lung, so I dropped out.

Thursday, I struggled through something in the morning, but then joined Witty for an hour out and back on the CCT via Somerset. I felt much better after that. I took Friday off.

Saturday I did an easy 63 minutes from the line with Jake and Sam, without a doubt the most enjoyable run from the line for me, ever. In the evening I did a CT-CCT with Bitz after a storm and relished the cool air. I had been waiting months for that. The run in the mountains was a tease, because I'd have to come back to DC weather. Now, it's getting reasonable to expect this weather.

Sunday morning I woke early to run up to BCC and warm up around the normal loop so I could see the guys finishing the Parks Half. I missed them, though, but got back to the track and was right on schedule for my 2x20 workout. I started slow, 83, but quickly got ahead of pace and averaged 5:26s, feeling really relaxed. I had to take a break during my recovery jog to attend to my intestines, but was right on time to start the second set. Through the mile alone in 5:19, Dickson and Fridge joined me for their three miles at 5:20. Dickson led superbly and I was through 3.75 in 19:53, with no major distress. Given the problem I had digestively, I was even happier with what was on paper my best 2x20 workout ever. Ahead of pace and relaxed. The cool weather does wonders, even though it was still incredibly humid. I didn't have a long cooldown in me.

Monday I met up with Scott for a morning run, then went off into RCP on my own in the evenings, down the Soapstone Valley Trail, along the Western Ridge to the line and the Valley Trail, then the trail between Beach and Ross drives, and up the Melvin Hazen Trail for a total of 20 for the day.

The Cleveland Marathon is Decadent and Depraved

I did my usual Bolling for seven miles Wednesday (April 25) morning, but then decided against going to BCC for track work, opting instead for an 11 mile route on the W&OD to Vienna, then a loop back through neighborhoods. I wasn't feeling too great, though.

I took Thursday off of work to go up and watch the Penn Relays, so I took my time in the morning running out to McLean High School to do 4k,3k,2k, 2x1k, but early on I wasn't feeling great. I did some drills and ran back home. It was a late night, and I got about 3.5 hours of sleep on a shockingly comfortable couch.

Friday, I walked to work and before I went in I got a tired eight miles, out to the FDR fields and back. That evening I ran an Idylwood+ for another five, and slept like crazy after.

The next morning, I was up at 6 and out the door at 6:40. I planned to run 12 miles before the Jaguar 5k to get myself nice and tired, then race the 5k and cool down home. My first mile was just over 7:00, but I caught up in the next two, hitting three miles in 19:00. Three more miles in 18:30, by which point I was on Cottage and just rolling, having never run that direction before, it was cool to see everything from the other side. The next three miles were 18:05, but apparently when I remapped the course to include a few missed turns, it was more than three miles. I slowed down a little, with the intention of actually trying to run fast at the race, but when I got to the vestigial bridge over the beltway, I couldn't resist a few surges,and I kept of kept that going through Fairview Park. I thought better of my plan to cut it very close to the 5k start, since I was picking up my packet, so I cut a mile off the loop. I eased up as I headed down Route 50 and showed up at Falls Church High School for the Jaguar 5k, having averaged 6:13 for the 11 miles.

Everything I had read indicated the race started at 8, but when I picked up my number, it became apparent the race was a half hour later. I jogged around trying to stay loose and keep my heart rate up, but my brilliant plan to be "nice and tired" at the start to simulate the latter stages of the half marathon was beaching like a whale. Eventually the 5k start rolled around.

The gun went off and with it, a flock of floppy-haired teens out for yucks in the race's first stretch. I got around them by the first turn, then caught the last one, who actually looked like he could be kind of dangerous, right as we got out of the parking lot. I cruised through the neighborhoods, pushing a little more than I would have liked, but not interested in having any of the kids catch me. The first mile was mostly downhill, but I was shocked to come through at 5:01, I was expecting something more in the 4:40 range, considering my effort and the course.  I had nothing to worry about from the teens chasing me- I didn't hear any footsteps or cheers behind me. The second mile was heavily uphill as I turned onto Camp Alger Avenue, I saw the same old man out walking that I had seen two weeks before. I slowed a bit to say hi, then got back to business to split a lackluster 5:25 in the second mile.The third mile was more uphill and battling through the crowds of runners still in the first mile, but when I turned onto Holly Hill I found out the roads were not closed to traffic after all, because I had cars on either side of me as I turned onto Marc. I claimed the middle of the road after the turn and let the drivers deal with me until I got back to the school grounds popped up a hill and ran 300 on the track to finish in 16:30. I was pleased that after the long, pretty hard warmup and the unexpected wait, I was able to average a little faster than my goal half pace, but I still would have liked to have been faster.

As much as I love the CCT to Lake Accotink, it always tires me out a lot more than a mostly-flat trail should, and Sunday was no different. Gone, though, were the sunset clouds of gnats who pestered Karl and me the last time I was there. I took it easy and averaged 6:50s throughout, though as usual I was ridiculously thirsty in the last four miles.

Monday was a trip to Tenleytown to look at a house then a late run to McLean High School for some quarters. 69, 69, 67, 69, 68, 67, 67, 67, 69, 70, 70, 67. Then a cooldown for 13. Tuesday was another house but an earlier return home and, I believe, a Pimmit-Idylwood, though I'm not positive. Wednesday I struggled through the humidity to do some 1200s with Karl, Diddy and Syd Barrett, but I got pretty dizzy after a while and dropped out in favor of a few laps with Murph.

The next day I did five miles, probably an Idylwood+. That was when my back started to hurt, a different part than last time, I think I took the afternoon off to recover, or something. Friday morning I started a New Virginia Manor, but cut it after one loop, it was just too humid.

Saturday morning I was back in Pittsburgh and had plans for a nice long workout at 5:20 pace- 400 on the track, 1k on the oval, a mile on the track, 2k on the oval, 2 miles on the track, 4k on the oval, then 4k on the track. I was doing just fine until the youth soccer teams starts swarming the field inside the track while I was in the middle of my two mile. With kids running into lane one after soccer balls and parents not seeming to care where they stood, I was fed up. I tried to do the 4ks on the oval, the humidity was really getting to me by that point, and the temperature was climbing, so I opted for a long cooldown. It was really humid, I felt awful and wondered if I should even bother with Cleveland--two weeks later in a volatile month. The recent, very favorable temperatures on race day, however, convinced me to stick with the plan.

Sunday, I ran around and watched the Pittsburgh Marathon and Half, a total of 18 miles. My back was not a  problem while I was running. Monday I did another fartlek on the W&OD, my back wasn't even an issue. Tuesday I took off. Wendesday back to BCC for 5xmile- 5:30, 5:20, 5:10, 5:00, 4:49. Our pacer was slow at 800 for the last (2:28+) so I took the second half a little harder- 69 and 70. I didn't feel my back at all. The next morning I did a Slade Run at 6:35 pace, with some intestinal problems in mile 6 and 7. Friday was off to let my back rest.

Saturday was a run up to McLean High School for 2x20, but I got out fast- 5:08 for the first and second miles. I managed to ease up later on, but dodged a lot of lane-one walkers. I decided to just go for 4 mile, and averaged 5:15 pace feeling easy. Again, no pain. Afterward, though, was another issue.

Sunday I went out to Alexandria to run with Dave O'Hara and Murph on the Mt. Vernon Trail. The back pain was constant, though I could run through it. I was seriously regretting putting $93 into the Cleveland Half at this point.

I took Monday off to rest the back. Tuesday evening I headed off to do a NVM, but the back wasn't cooperating. I made it a mile and turned around and went home. The next morning I successfully ran an Idylwood+ in the morning, then up to McLean in the evening for 5:13, 5:18, 5:13 and back. No 30 miles on my 30th birthday.

Thursday morning I went out to do a NVM, but stopped after one loop. Friday morning I took off, and in the afternoon, I headed up to Pittsburgh with Dickson and Beth, with Drea and Paul in their car. After stopping at the Country Club Mall in Cumberland, I drove the rest of the way to the JBI, choosing one of my favorite routes -- through the Laurel Highlands and the Mon Valley. That two hour chunk was nothing short of amazing, even as I was driving right into the setting sun.

My back and hip were still troubling me Saturday morning, so I skipped my pre-race jog around Chatham Village in fantastic weather. That would have been a good day for the race, aside from my discomfort.

After the drive to Cleveland and a stop at the miserable IX Expo Center to pick up our bibs, after paying $8 to park, we got some dinner and we all settled into the bizarrely-designed rooms at the Comfort Inn Suites near Cleveland State that lacked a wall between the shower and the living room. After a long night of sleep the night before at home, I was prepared for general discomfort on the foldout bed which didn't really conduct body heat too readily.

In the morning, we took a cab ride with two delightful ladies from Charleston, WV, driven by a temperamental cabbie who "enjoyed the hell out of being fat" and congregated at a place where every out-of-town team feels like a winner- Cleveland Browns Stadium. It was warm- in the 60s, and after our warmup, sweat was running all over my head and torso. It was going to be rough. Thanks to seven or so Aleve, I couldn't feel my back or hip. At least something was going right.

The start was up a slight hill, evidently they have those in Cleveland, they also have a number of delays for the race start that never were clear to me. It looked like an awfully pale field, if you know what I mean.

I lagged at the start, as is my tendency. After weaving through the hoi polloi, I was within reach of the leaders, and none of them looked to be going too fast. I was in the front within 30 seconds and cruised along with the pack until we hit the first turn. I took it aggressively, keeping my pace consistent, but everyone else slowed. I figured it was time to go for it- nobody else was going to be taking the half seriously, with its lack of prize money, so I shouldn't concern myself with the early-race jockeying among marathoners from Lorian, Ashtabula and Streetsboro.

So, I ran ahead and nobody else came with me. I hit the first mile in 5:28, and I was surprised it was that slow, though the hill certainly was a factor. There wasn't a sliver of shade on the shoreway along Lake Erie. All I could hear were my own steps, and I thought maybe I could run away with this thing. That thought was reinforced when I hit the second mile in 5:05. I couldn't feel my hip, maybe it was better, maybe my stride was doing its job, maybe the borderline overdose of anti-inflammatories was doing its job. Maybe any of my multitude of relatives in Cleveland would see the race on the television before they took their Sunday morning trips to Marc's, the May Company, Malley's Candies or the Crawford Auto Museum and say "oh my, that's Charlie."

I kept cranking, marveling at the amount of sun-- there was nothing stopping that mother today. After a mile in 5:15, I started to feel the muscles around my shins tighten up and my forefoot striking was coming to an end. A few seconds later, I heard a bicycle, then a lot of breathing. Then I saw the shadows, not-so-elongated by the sun behind me, of a pack of skinny dudes. Suddenly, I was surrounded by east africans and one white dude. There was the pack of marathoners shooting for the sub 2:20 bonus. I hadn't seen a single member of this pack on the starting line. They rushed past me, no surprise, since my fourth mile was 5:41-- not where I needed to be, to put it lightly.

Now it was time for me to figure out what kind of race it was going to be. Would I try to regain that pace the pack was setting, or fight for whatever position I had in the half marathon, ambiguous as it was? That fantasy about leading the race crashed faster than Kellen Winslow, Jr on a motorcycle.

I tried to get back on my forefeet to chase that pack, and my legs cramped immediately. Looks like I was going to be forced to the latter. I managed to maintain by pace for the next mile. 5:41 for a 27:12 five mile split as we weaved through a shady neighborhood. That was kind of nice, though I lost a few positions there. As I turned eastward on Detroit Avenue and finished a 5:43 mile, I was running directly at the sun. I passed the 10k park in 34:01, well behind where I hoped to be at that point. I took two cups at each water stop and doused myself to try to keep my head together. It helped for about 15 seconds, which made a difference in my 5:30 seventh mile and 5:34 eighth. I don't remember much of nine, in 5:35, but 10 was an adventure. A downhill of which I failed to take advantage in my chase of a pack of three, complicated by a few loose cars on the course that I dodged on my way back up the hill. At the top, I was cooked, and it showed in my 5:47 split for a 55:23 10 mile. At least in my Philly half I was under 55 at 10--this was troubling. Maybe I could gut it out.

Nope.

Back into the sun on Carnegie, over the bridge, those now-creepy statues and another 5:47 for a real kick in the pills. The last two miles offered a little shady relief, though I was losing the capacity to judge my distance traveled. I got a little better in mile 12- 5:38, but soon after the marathoners split off and I saw the one chance for redeeming this race fade away when one guy continued straight toward the half marathon finish. Victory now beyond my reach, I focused on finishing, merging streams of 10k runners.

"What the hell??" I said.

I really had enough by this point, and even the otherwise-welcome downhill didn't do anything for me, I finished up, with a 6:24 last 1.1--miserable, really, and came to a rapid stop when I crossed the line. I had no idea there was a fellow four seconds behind me. I also had no idea in which place I had finished. Some handler tried to scoop me away, but I escaped to watch Drea and Beth finish. My first thought was that one of my left toes must be bleeding like hell. The pains and aches I had been deferring for 73 minutes all called in their debts at the same time, and I lurched around with a degenerative limp. It got really f%$@#ing hot out there, and the marathoners all suffered. I'm sure the winner didn't want to sneak in at 2:19:59.

1:13:13. Not what I was hoping to run. Part of me was thrilled that I was even able to run 13 miles at 5:35 pace, after the discomfort and downright pain I had felt in the weeks prior. The fact that it was a sweaty mess didn't help things, and should have made me happier with being able to hang on, but all of these add up to the fact that I didn't get the job done. I didn't win the race or improve my best time, which remains from a hilly race I ran with a cold- granted, in perfect conditions.

Despite my feelings of failure in terms of the race, the trip itself was fantastic. On the way home, I nailed the Breezewood trifecta of KFC, Dairy Queen and Taco Bell. The KFC was nothing short of divine.

Back in Virginia, I took a full week off. The bender I had planned became a Tuesday evening and a Saturday night where I stretched the limits of a full liver and an empty stomach. It was a miserable week and I'm not sure if not running made it worse or prevented it from sinking lower.

Then Molz and I headed up to Winchester on Memorial Day to run the Loudoun Street Mile with Witty and Billzzz. The drive was pleasant. The race did not bode well. It was warm, I hadn't run in a week, and I was ill prepared to race a mile, but what the hell? Molz and I warmed up and I realized a few minutes in that there would be no miracles. I was drenched after 15 minutes. My back, which was miraculously comfortable  starting Monday morning, started acting up as we jogged to the start. I saw Tim Schuler, the maniac master, down from Chambersburg. The heat was overwhelming me, but as I would find out minutes later when the race started, it was the least of my worries.

My habitual slow starts off the line was deadly here. I was immediately left behind and rushed down the hill to catch the huge pack. At the bottom, though, I felt the exertion catch up to me and I felt, for the first time in my running career, like I might not live to see the finish. My lungs has to have been run clean through with a sword, there was no other explanation for what I was feeling. Except maybe the 63 second 400 split...

The next 400 was up a hill in the sun. I stopped even pretending I was racing and jogged it. 79.99. Not quite 80. I thought of Lauder's 4:52 last year at this race and wondered if I had the wherewithal to match it at this point. I charged down the hill. No I didn't. I meandered a bit. 74. We hit the flat-to-uphill last stretch on the pedestrian mall and I started to fight for my position again, but that didn't last too long. I started hemorrhaging places and managed to struggled in at 4:51.8 for 25th place. I just managed to squeek by what a fellow who trained much less than I did ran on a much hotter day the year before. Great job, Chaz.

I'd rather be a half a second slower than look like an idiot

The next day I went out to Burke Lake with Fun Liz. The sky was dark, in advance of a rainstorm, and the humidity was raging. I ran off around the lake and was feeling pretty good for a while, splitting 6:00 miles for a little over 18 minutes. The clouds of gnats were a pain, but I was moving again, and without pain. Then suddenly everything caught up with me- the heat, humidity, and I stopped. I grabbed my knees as I struggled to breathe, and watched the bicyclists I passed with such ease cruise by me. Soon Liz caught me, and I ran with her for about a minute until I had to take another break. My decline was swift, but decisive. I jogged in and finished 35 minutes of running right before the storm started.

Wednesday after work I gave running another shot- an Idylwood+. Five miles in 33:30. Thursday evening a Seaton, for six miles at 6:40 pace. Friday was a nice day to take off. Saturday morning I rose and just started running and played it by ear. 6:30 average for this loop, with a few stops at garage sales.

I had planned to run very early Sunday morning, taking advantage of the phenomenal June weather. Back after the George Washington Parkway race, I had a crazy thought that I would keep my options open for a spring marathon after Cleveland. I settled on the God's Country Marathon in Coudersport, Pa. It was a small race, a point-to-point course between two towns, and I'd be able to register the day of the race, giving me flexibility to strike if the weather was good. I figured why the hell not? If I am feeling good after Cleveland, and the weather wouldn't be too oppressive, I might as well just see what I could do. As it turned out, the weather was great, but I was not. AJ Kelly ended up winning in 2:42, which would have been a nice time to run, especially if we had kept each other company on a pretty lonely course. So, I designed a 26.2 mile course through McLean, Great Falls and Falls Church and I would give it a shot.

When I didn't want to do that when the alarm went of at 4, I slept in and decided to do it after I watched the episode of Mad Men I missed the week before. That eventually meant a 9:30 start. It was warmer than had I started at 4:30, but not terrible. I ran the first two miles carrying a quart of gatorade, which I hid in a tree two miles in. After I got that out of my hand, my form straightened out.

I navigated the new neighborhood past Daleview with more ease this time than in March, but I struggled on the Belleview hills. My thirst was starting to hit me when I got to Georgetown Pike. Luckily I was coming up to a point where I could turn back toward where I stashed my Gatorade. I can't remember the name of the subdivision I entered, but it was clear it didn't consider itself a thoroughfare. The map I consulted, however, begged to differ. It was hilly, and I was starting to labor, but I could keep going. I wound around until what I thought to be the logical turn. Eventually I hit a cul de sac I hadn't expected. Maybe I turned early. I headed the opposite way and found the same situation. Back from whence I came, I saw an imposing-looking gatehouse blocking what looked like a driveway. I decided to just go back and turn on Swinks Mill, a long uphill that really didn't do it for me. Back over the beltway and up Balls Hill Road. I stopped a few times in the last few miles, not sure what it would take to make me comfortable again running, but I knew the answer was going to be fluid of some sort. Salt was caking my once-flexible shorts turning them into a chamois-like consistency. I finally got back to the Gatorade bottle and went to town. After that, there would be no more running. I ended up running this. I walked home the last two miles, pretty tired out and still thirsty.

Monday evening I ran with the DC Capital Striders and bumped into Teddy Winschel, a total of nine miles, then did six the next evening with Elyse's gang of fun runners. I took Wednesday, National Running Day, off. Thursday night I did what be my last Slade Run, averaging 6:22 pace for 13.25 miles. Toward the end, I actually got chilly. What a gift this first part of June has given runners in DC. Friday morning I woke up to 56 degrees and hopped out of bed for a morning run, but found that my elusive hip/back pain had returned. I meandered six miles around part of the Bolling loop, but never settled in.

Saturday morning I ran a sleep-deprived eight miles on the towpath with Karl, Jake, Diddy, Dix, Murph and Bitz. Sunday I planned to a variety of the Irvin long run, but within a mile I could tell the heat would be too much, I switched to a Double Pimmit, but that proved to be too hot, too. I made it seven miles.

I'm still figuring out my fall schedule vis-a-via cross country races, but I will give the half another shot in late October, which should fit well, at the Charlottesville Fall Classic. That will also give me a chance, after the race to tour south-central Virginia in its most enjoyable month.

For now, nothing but base, most runs will be less than an hour for my own sake. The heat is here and it's time for me to get used to it. A few weeks of my northern Virginia farewell tour, then it's onto the big city and the Tenleytown Running Endeavour.

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.

The great runs of 2011, hoping for more in 2012

The year started from very little. One of my telltale signs of how far I had come was just before the end of 2010, when Slosky and I averaged 8:02 for 10.5 miles in Shadyside and Squirrel Hill. The 12 days I took off after my throat surgery in December, and the recovery from that surgery, put me back a lot. Before that, though, I had been taking a good amount of time off after the two marathon fiasco, so I really wasn't in shape at all.

I did a pretty good job gradually building my endurance again and was equally thrilled and disappointed to run 15:42 at Richmond in March, but as it turns out that was an honest indicator of what I could do then. I didn't get that much faster in the spring, but I felt stronger. Oddly enough, I probably could have run the fastest at the Race for Hope, had they offered day-of registration for racers, because I felt so loose as I paced Jake through 2.5 miles under 5:00 pace. I never got close to 15 minutes, but enjoyed a few of the races.

This year, more than ever before, I was very aware of what I was capable of doing, either distance-wise or speed-wise, which meant I was a lot more sensitive to whether or not I was ready to race. I definitely felt ready at times and not at others. Whether that awareness held me back at nationals or helped protect me from blowing up completely, I'm not sure.

My best race was either the HCA Virginia 8k or the Freedom's Run Half Marathon, probably the latter because I was just out there hammering in the hills in the wind and rain and I ran about five minutes faster than I had expected.

My worst race was the Great Pumpkin 5k, which I just plain shouldn't have run, given the cold I had suffered the week before, though even had I been healthy, it would have been tough to improve my place. I also wasn't happy with the Great Race, when I failed to fight three guys who passed me in the last mile.

Because I only raced on 5 percent of the days in 2011, the focus of my retrospective should be the days when I wasn't competing, because that's what made up the year.

The absolute best, most memorable run, was in Portland, when I got lost looking for a trail in Forest Park and ran 25 miles. It turned into a race of sorts, with me trying to get back to my hotel in time to shower, change and get to work on time, all without going too hard and breaking down and not making it back at all. As time started getting close when I was on St. Helens, fighting through the rain, I wasn't sure if I would succeed. I never found the water tank I would have used to take the goo I so sorely needed. 

In March, I relished a fast 14 miles on the W&OD Trail in a cold rain. The long run in Richmond after the Spider Relays was solid, considering it was a substitute loop when I found out the Hugenot Road Bridge was closed.

In June, despite the heat, I ran a surprisingly fast 16 miles the day after FD8k, on the Irvin Loop. I was fast through four miles and just kept that going. 

The day before I left for Portland, I had a great longish run on the Pimmit Run Trail, out to Langley. The weather was oddly cool. As much as I enjoyed the trip to Portland, it set me back in terms of my heat acclimation, because I really felt like I had a handle on it before spending a week running in the 50-degree range.

September's long run in Richmond also went really well, despite the humidity. I was shocked at how well it went.

My 21 miles on the Brook loop, by way of Georgetown Pike, one Sunday in October stood out to me, too. I didn't need to do many long runs, but I enjoyed going out there in the cool fall air and cranking it for a few hours. One of the Sleepy Hollow hollow loops I ran was so much fun that I knew I had to be onto something with my training. I actually prefer running that one in the dark, especially on Slade Run and Rose. I need to rename that loop, though- out of 13 miles, only .3 actually follows Sleepy Hollow.

I closed the month out with the 10-mile workout at McLean High School that was just thrilling- despite going a little fast, I was able to comfortably ratchet up the pace five seconds per mile. Back when Steve was  advising me on half marathon-specific workouts, I couldn't imagine going under race pace for some of the long ones, but I somehow did it. I had a lot of good runs on the New Virginia Manor loop- another one that's better at night, but the 13 miles I did before Richmond took the cake.

Despite being in terrible shape, I had a great time at Difficult Run in early December.

The bad runs were the weekend my mom visited in August and I could barely run 40 minutes at Great Falls and from the Line, the long run on the canal when I fell apart with two miles to go, and the run before I passed out in Metro Center. Otherwise, I had fewer bad runs than last year, and when they went bad, I was less frustrated because I tended to stop straining to continue when the elements were so contrary to my abilities.

* * *

After taking last Tuesday off to stay out of freezing rain, I got back to building a base on Wednesday. I met up with Slosky and Maura in Frick Park around noon and we got a solid 50 minutes in before we dropped off Maura. We added a nice chunk in Regent Square before going back on the trails and finishing with a loop in Wilkinsburg.

Thursday I woke up comparatively early to get to Walkers Mill to meet Hanson. I planned to do a warmup and then 10 miles on the Panhandle Trail at 6:00 pace, but after the mile warmup, it was pretty clear talking and taking it easy was more what we wanted to do than push it too much. We turned after five and headed back, averaging 6:40s or so. It was pretty chilly, mid 20s with light flurries.

While in Pittsburgh, I realized that my reference for distances in Mt. Lebanon is warped. While trying to figure out 12 mile loops, I was routinely frustrated by the extra loops I had to add to make it work.

Friday's trip back to DC was postponed, so I went out to Sewickley and ran 13 miles in the hills, this time coming down Camp Meeting Road, which turned out to be so steep it was not enjoyable to descend. I ended up averaging 6:40s.

I slept in Saturday morning and saved my run for when I got back to Virginia- an easy 8.75 George Mason loop. That Powhattan hill gets harder each time. I hit 65 miles that week, pretty good considering my day off on Tuesday. I totaled 4,042 miles for 2011, with 18 days off.

Sunday morning, I met the Fox, Murph and Big City for a 9.5-mile run through Rock Creek Park from the line. I overestimated the cold and had to stash my long-sleeved shirt after three miles.

Monday, I met up with Dickson to drive up to Lake Frank in Montgomery County for a run with the Fox, Diddy, Diddy's buddy Eric and Bain. We only did eight miles, but it was a nice run, mostly trail, with a great soft section on wood chips. That afternoon, I did five at 6:35 pace on the Idylwood Plus loop. I sprained my left ankle near the Lemon Road school, but it only hurts if I stretch it unnaturally far.

Tuesday night featured a struggle to get going after work, but within four minutes of my Oak loop, I had my act together. Shreve Road was a little dicey when headlights were in my eyes, but the dark was fine. The westbound Lee Highway bridge across the beltway is evidently back in business, though not for traffic, so I had the pleasure of not having to cross Lee Highway twice. By the time I reached Oak Street, it was clear I was rolling, and figured I would push it a little bit on the mile eight stretch on the W&OD, which I hit in 5:43. I finished up the 10.1 miles averaging 6:21. For all the hesitation I fought to go out and run in the low 20s, I felt great for the most part.

Tonight I will go up to BCC and get a feel for how fast several efforts feel- easy, a little faster, moderate, medium and hard, each for a mile. 

* * *

In 2012, I will focus on the Pittsburgh Half Marathon again in May and the USATF Cross Country Club championships in December. The spring schedule has become problematic, though. I initially planned to do the Al Lewis 10 Miler this coming weekend, but heard bad things about it, plus it's pretty early. Instead, I will do the Club Challenge 10 miler and run it hard. It's a tough course, evidently, but if I can run 5:25 pace for that, I'll feel pretty good about my training going forward.

In late March and early April, three races I really want to do fall on consecutive days. The Fred Hardy Invitational/Spider Relays 5k is Friday night, the Monument Ave 10k is Saturday morning and the Cherry Blossom 10 Mile is Sunday morning. I really enjoyed Monument Ave in 2010, despite getting over a cold, and would have loved to race it, but it's the third option. Nothing would be as much fun as running a fast 5k on the track, especially at Richmond, and getting in a good long run in the morning, but a 5k doesn't really fit into my racing plans for the spring. Cherry Blossom would be the easiest and makes the most sense in the scheme of my season. I would be very pleased to be able to PR significantly there and take that confidence into the last month before Pittsburgh.

I'll go back to Pittsburgh for Martha's Run, since I've been promising Rick I'd be back for three years. It would be nice to break Cavanaugh's 33:35 record from 2008. If that seems slow, you should check out the course...

I'll do a cross country-heavy fall, with a trip to the Richmond alumni race, hopefully a race at Hampden-Sydney, now that they have their act together, hired a real coach and plan to have a meet in the fall on a new course. I am also hoping at least one trip to a UVA meet will work out. With luck, we should be able to get some runners together for a tuneup race at the cell phone tower field before nationals.

I'll do a pair of road races- the Great Allagany Run 15k in October and the HCA Virginia 8k again in November.

Hills again, but that's Pittsburgh for you

After the long ride back to Pittsburgh after the half, I had trouble getting to sleep. I might have gotten to bed around 2, then slept until 10. I did some work, then headed out for a run. I left my mom's house, went down Shaler, up Kearns, around Clearview and Strathmore, Berry, Stafford and West Carson, then up the McArdle Roadway and home for 12 miles. My calves and hamstrings were still wrecked. I had originally planned on 15 miles, with a loop up William and Boggs before coming back, but I was tired.

It rained all day Tuesday, and I didn't care enough to run, so instead I ate a lot of mint chocolate chip ice cream and watched movies. I spent a lot of that day bemoaning my Philadelphia race, at one point congratulating myself for coming so close to my PR despite the poor execution and latter-mile injury, then alternating to realizing that if I ran that fast considering how much went wrong, I had the opportunity to run much faster if I had done things right. In short, I spent the whole week sitting around my mom's house, pissed about the race and relegated to traveling on foot or arranging rides with friends.

Wednesday morning I picked myself up to run around Mt. Washington and added to it by running the new trails along the face of the mountain. It was wet, covered in leaves and mostly clay. For someone who wants to take a walk, it's ok. For a runner, it's a dangerous disaster. I twisted both ankles was on the brink of slipping off constantly. That said,the trail afforded me some great views of the city and I got about nine miles.

After 12 years of running the Downtown YMCA Turkey Trot, I put an end to it. Although it's very popular and had its best attendance ever this year, it's value as a road race has plummeted in the last few years. It's now a series of out-and-backs starting and finishing on the north side and just a mess of people. Great for the YMCA's fundraising, but its quality as a race has plummeted. I was on the race committee in 2008 when construction limited a lot of the courses the race had used from 2003-2007. Given the restrictions we had, we could only do a 5k but I hoped to be able to bring it back to the five mile course when possible. Then I moved, then the director left and took the focus on quality with him.

I did it for two more years, but also started running Dan Holland's Gutbuster race in Frick Park. I am not exaggerating when I say it's the hardest race I have run. Alternating up and down hills on trails that are often slippery. What didn't help was that I ran a 5k one year and a five mile the next before coming to the Gutbuster, so I was already wiped out. Last year's freezing rain made it miserable. This year it was dry for once, just warm enough, though it had rained all day Tuesday and it certainly wasn't dry.

The first mile is almost entirely uphill, with a flat stretch in the first 200 meters or so. I stuck with a decent pack that included Luke Briola, Jim Hommes, Nolan Wildfire and a little kid who looked like a short Andy Webster. We chatted up the hill, until Webster tried to take off near the mile mark, which we hit in 6:57. I bolted ahead of him and immediately opened up my stride on the loop around the fitness circuit and the sledding hill. I headed back down and saw my mom heading up, the two mile was not supposed to go this way and I told her as much. She just said "I know."

I didn't see anybody for a while, and I had a pretty solid lead. I came down the second mile in 5:17 (where was that when I needed it on Sunday?), then up the next hill in 6:44. I didn't see a four-mile mark, but I think I was a little over 24 minutes. I went back up the first hill and hit miles 4 and 5 in 12:43. I started seeing the people behind me coming down the hill and I was climbing, and I start giving high fives, essentially celebrating with almost half of the race left.

I apparently had no reason not to, my lead appeared safe. The next mile was 5:21, a little slower than mile 2. When I hit the Tranquil Trail, I was a little flat, but I figured I could afford to slow down, mainly because when I tried to run hard, my right hamstring didn't respond.

Again, I figured my lead was safe, so this obstacle shouldn't be too troubling. I saw Leslie and Pete near the bottom of the Biddle Trail, and they didn't say too much. That trail was the hardest part of a really hard course, the steepest section, half of the trail was a creek and the other was jagged rock. I slipped at one point and looked back and suddenly Jim Hommes was on my tail. I was shocked- I had no indication anyone was anywhere close to me. I hadn't seen anyone when I made turns, and I didn't hear Leslie and Pete yelling for him. That leads me to several possible conclusions- 1. he did most of the catching up on the hill 2. he told Pete and Leslie to be quiet so he could sneak up on me 3. I didn't hear them cheering for him.

We were in this same position in 2003 at the Turkey Trot, back when the race was worthwhile. I held him off there, but by that point I had a stronger lead. And I hadn't raced a half four days before and run myself into the ground over the last 3.5 miles.

For a few seconds I felt as though I was going to lose, the surprise that he was there, when I was feeling the weakest, nearly broke me. Jim's one of the toughest masters runners around, and his focus has always been exemplary for long races. I felt like there was no way I could fend him off anymore. I ran like an asshole and I was getting my comeuppance. Until I didn't.

I got to the top of the trail and turned onto another uphill, but less steep, trail. I started charging ahead, hoping to put a lot of distance between us before he joined me on the smoother trail. I split 6:53 on the seventh mile, not unreasonable given the lack of a push I had before I saw Jim. I kept cranking up the hill, then pushed a little more back down the hill. This trail was slippery, so I had to run with more caution than I had before. I also had to navigate around walkers and the runners in their fifth and sixth miles. Once I got to the bottom, I had a clear path to finish, and split 5:22 for the eighth mile to finish in 49:16. I think I had a 20 second lead over Jim, who had run a 50k a few weeks prior.

I would have liked to run under 48 minutes, but I could argue with winning, considering the way the prior few days had gone. Mom had fun doing the four mile, and I was left excited about making the Gutbuster my solitary Thanksgiving race in the future. I don't know if it prepared me for cross country running at nationals, but it was certainly tough.

Friday morning, I tried to go for a run on the Seven Springs golf course, but my hamstring felt incredibly weak. I got about two miles of running in before I realized I was better off resting.

Later, after I was back in Pittsburgh, I drove out to the Richard and did my Standard Beechwood loop, averaging 6:05 for 10.5. I finished right before dusk. I felt much better than in the mountains, and to be able to average that pace on those hills was relieving.

Saturday, I was once again without a car, so I ran from my mom's house down to the jail trail and out to Four Mile Run. I hit 11:01 for a two-mile stretch, but slowed down afterward. I made a rare trip up the Panther Hollow Trail, up Neville and over onto Bayard, past the Huff's old place, before turning onto Craig and Bigelow. Now, Bigelow is not a frequently traveled road for pedestrians. There's a sidewalk, but it was overgrown with dry weeds. Things open up a little bit in Frank Curto Park, then shortly after that the sidewalk ends and suddenly I'm on a busy almost-highway. That lasted about two-to-three minutes, then I was downtown, looping around to Gateway Center and back up the Boulevard of the Allies to the Liberty Bridge and Mt. Washington for just under 13.7 miles.

Sunday morning, I ran a little more than seven miles with Jess Gangjee on Mt. Washington before going back to Virginia.

Lonely in a crowd of 9,000

I don't even remember where I ran on Wednesday- I think a Woodley in the morning, something from my barbershop -- where I failed to get a haircut -- in the evening, for 16.5. Thanks to backloading my mileage the prior week and frontloading it this week, from Thursday to Wednesday I ran 120.5, so I cut the next few days' mileage so I could recover a little for the Great Race.

I slept in Thursday morning, then finally got that haircut in the afternoon. I warmed up back to my place then did a 10-10-10 p-word run on my usual loop. It was really humid, and the little bits of hair from the barbershop were spreading all over my body, thanks to the sweat. I was a little fast for the first mile- maybe 5:54, and about 30 seconds ahead of schedule at 1.6 miles. I was right on for the first mile of the 5:45 segment, but fast overall, 5 seconds perhaps. I was slow for the 5:00 chunk- 2:33 at the first measured half and 5:07 for the measured mile, but felt okay. It was pretty uncomfortable, but given how much I had run the week before, I felt alright.

The next morning, I set out to do an easy Oak loop, but the humidity made me feel like garbage a little more than two miles in, so I went a little more, turned onto the W&OD and ran home for 5.

The next morning, in Pittsburgh, I did my pre-race 5 on the Schenley Park course.

When I woke up, my room felt cool, so I had a good feeling about the Great Race. When my mom and I left the house, though, the air didn't feel quite as light, and it was warming up quickly. We didn't have to wait as long as we feared for a bus ride to the start.

I warmed up to the first mile and back, seeing Jason Baim and Brian Romine along the way.

The gun went off quickly, thankfully giving me little time to tense up on the starting line. The hoi polloi cleared out relatively quickly and the pack was pretty well set before we turned onto Forbes and I heard the first few people yelling for me. Outlaw, Luff and Hanson were all up in the front, with Steve Strelick up there looking tall and Brandon G by my side. I heard and saw Scott Rosenblum and Sarah Ordaz near St. Edmund's. The leaders went through the mile in 5:10, I was a second behind, pretty much right on pace. The lead pack pulled away up the hill shortly after the mile mark, but heading down, I wasn't sure if the three guys in the chase pack with me, including Greg, were going to be running the way I wanted, so I put in a surge to catch up to the end of the lead pack. They kept accelerating when they hit CMU, and I noticed Outlaw start to fall off. I hit the second mile in 4:55, a few seconds behind the leaders, but a world away. As I turned onto Fifth Avenue, I already felt like I was done and saw black spots on the bottom parts of my eyes. Well, if I passed out, at least someone would see me...

I passed Outlaw near Central Catholic but he didn't go with me. Then I heard Gillian off to the right, a very enthusiastic pick-me-up. I hit that third mile in 5:25, about15-20 seconds slower than I wanted. I was hoping to go through 5k in 15:45 and go from there, but I forgot how difficult running alone on Fifth Avenue, especially in the sun, was. Jen Taylor, of all people, was on the curb cheering, too. I saw a dude in orange ahead of me, and kept myself going to catch him with a bit left to go in the fourth mile. I hit 5:03, giving me a 20:36 split, right on pace to break 32, which was my moderate goal.

The fifth mile is always the worst for me. Almost every time I have run the Great Race, I've

been alone in the fifth mile. In 2007 I had Cavanaugh with me, but even then I split 6:00 for it. This year, Beth Shutt was riding along the course and shouting to me, but I felt like I was plodding. All I had to focus on was Hanson in the distance, also struggling alone. I feared a bit better than before -- 5:38, and came through five miles matching my PR for the distance- 26:15. After that, though, it was ugly. A minute later, Greg, the guy in orange I had passed a while ago, and some other dude passed me in a pack as yet another person I didn't recognize yelled to me. The downhill on Boulevard of the Allies did me no favors, and I knew I was unlikely to match the 4:53 I had once run for it. Matt, Shafer and Jo all cheered on Fort Pitt Boulevard, but so was some yinzer who yelled, "Get up with them! Don't run alone!" His insight into the dynamics of distance running sadly lacked the pragmatism of how I would suddenly get about 100 yards ahead. I ran 5:14 for my last mile and 1:07 for the .2 -- terrible -- to finish 10th in 32:36.

On one hand, it was just 9 seconds slower than my PR, and I rarely run 10ks. I ran almost 140 miles in the 10 days prior to the race. It was 70 degrees in the middle of the race and a slight tailwind was just enough to keep a runner's body heat moving with him, so there wasn't much relief there, though at least it wasn't a headwind in mile 5. When I ran faster in 2007, the weather was ideal. A lot of people complained about the heat and humidity, so I know I wasn't alone in feeling their effects.

I also ran alone for the last four miles, which seems more and more ridiculous. I wound up in that situation because I wanted to run a conservative first half, but I wasn't competitive on my own in the second half. Might I have done better if I had stuck with the lead pack, gone out faster and at least had people with whom to run? Maybe if I had more confidence in my ability to hold up? A few days later, I realize I definitely should have stuck with the lead pack and seen what I could do. This three-week racing segment is supposed to be a test for what I can do without the late-season taper, and taking a chance like that is exactly what I should have done.

But those excuses don't make up for a lack of discipline and ability to keep my pace when I needed to do so. My third and sixth miles were troubling. I didn't take any chances by pushing myself in the third mile. My goals coming in were to run faster than 31:30 on a great day, under 32:00 on a decent day and under 32:27 on an acceptable day, and I didn't accomplish any of them. I did match my five mile PR, but that was eight years old, and I barely run fives.

Using the Great Race as a benchmark, I am a little short of the shape I was in during the latter half of 2007, definitely my best year. That said, I don't feel like it- part of it might have been the humidity, but I am not as competent running hard on my own.

I did get to run in the last mile with my mom, which was fantastic. She also didn't feel good about her race, though with all the people she had to dodge in the first few miles, I'm sure it didn't even feel like a race for a lot of the course.

That evening I ran 9.25 around Mt. Lebanon, feeling pretty wrecked by seven miles in and definitely dehydrated. That place is a lot hillier than I appreciated when I was running there every day...

The next morning, after a doctor's appointment, I ran in Frick, starting at the Biddle parking lot, wrapping around to the start of the Braddock Trail, down to the Nine Mile Run trail, up the Tranquil Trail and my usual two loops near the lawn bowling courts. I got to the bottom of the Falls Ravine Trail and stopped, with no interest in continuing, but having gotten in 6.5 miles. After a trip back to DC with Sam that was a veritable GRC Heritage Trail (we passed the Wiggy's Mom birthplace in Hopwood, Pa., the Towpath Birthplace in Cumberland and the Towpatch Conception Point Monument in the Shady Grove metro parking lot) I ran another 6 on the Seaton loop.

Wednesday morning, I am still wrecked from the race. My quads, especially, are heavy and don't respond when I want them to do something. My back is stiff and my head is pounding. Even my hands hurt. It's like someone beat me up while I was recovering from the flu. I just want to sleep. I got home and started to run the Double Pimmit, but eight miles in I was feeling poor, so I stumbled back home, and ate a most of a rotisserie chicken for dinner. I slept in the next morning, thanks in large part to a heavy morning rain that relaxed me so much that I just waited for my alarm to stop.

The weather is looking good for the Freedom's Run Half this weekend in West Virginia and Maryland. With a low of around 48 Friday night, I should hopefully have the tools with which to have a good race. It's a hilly course in miles 4-9, but that leaves seven miles that are fast. If I take the quick splits when I can get them and stay focused when it's rough, I can come out with a good race. The last three miles, especially, are consistently downhill, I want to take advantage of that and cross the line kicking, not sputtering. What I would like, ideally, is an opportunity to get in a rhythm that embraces an undulating, rural course and enjoy the uphills and much as the downhills. I see, at least in my imagination, a similarity to my Hickory Hill loop in Hanover County, Va, in both the weather and topography.