Spring Training Update

Okay, let's just get this out of the way first: I suck at updating my blog. I know it, I feel bad about it, and I do have aspirations to improve. But for the time being, you'll have to take what you can get: an amalgamation of the past month's training and a few photos of good-looking ladies.

Secondly, let's consider this my long overdue "official" announcement: I'm racing the Vermont City Marathon (yay!)! In five weeks (yikes!)! Similar to Hartford, this is a relatively fast, relatively flat regional race within reasonable driving distance of my home that has a great setup in place for local and regional elites. They've graciously invited me to participate this year and I couldn't be more excited about chasing my second Olympic Trials qualifying time there! As an added bonus, I'll have the queenmaking help of Charlotte friend Aaron Linz (I would link to his blog here, but it's either defunct or even more outdated than my own). Aaron's a great runner and solid pacer and was easily persuaded to become my buddy on race day. I love it when a plan comes together!

So, with 26.2 looming on the horizon, exactly what is the state of my current fitness? I can confidently say it's situated somewhere between "not terrible" and "reasonably sufficient." Am I in sub-2:43 shape right this minute? Probably not. Can I get there in five weeks? Totes. And unlike at Cal, I'm not going to hold myself to lofty--some might say unreasonable--ambitions of smashing my PR and attaining the "A" standard of sub-2:37. After a winter like ours, and with only six weeks of solid training under my belt, that's simply not realistic. I won't go into the day expecting anything miraculous or exceptional, and I'll be just thrilled if I can run 2:41-2:42 and punch my ticket to Los Angeles in 2016.

A few notables from the past 4-6 weeks:

1. Four runs in the 19-21 mile range, three of them taking place the day after pretty substantial workouts, all of them taking place with Sarah B. She's crushing Boston next week and then presumably taking some time off, which means I'll have to find some sort of intrinsic motivation to put on my big girl pants and do the rest of my long runs without her between now and VCM. Is this possible?! TBD.

2. Lots more runs and workouts and even a spontaneous game of Taboo with my new Marblehead neighbor, Larissa. She and her husband were on vacation last week in some tropical clime and I still managed to run a track workout, so perhaps I can do this by myself after all. (Except that Jordan did my track session with me. But you're focusing on all the wrong details.)

3. A fun, amazing, abs hurt from laughing so hard weekend in Charleston with my Charlotte running besties, which was only slightly marred by a mysterious stomach bug that derailed my hopes of notching a new 10k PR at the Cooper River Bridge Run. I woke up feeling distinctly nauseous, half-heartedly jogged 13 minutes of warmup in hopes that conditions would improve, started the race realizing they wouldn't, ran a 5:28 first mile, then promptly threw up in the bushes. Womp womp. On a positive note, Caitlin cruised to an impressive 34:45 finish and scored some serious cash for placing second American, which meant she was willing and able to buy shots for anyone who felt well enough to drink them later that night.

At the expo on Friday evening with my lovely ladies

Headed out for a night on the town post-race. What a difference 24 hours and a curling iron can make!

Danielle M. Crockford + Dalena M. Custer = Run DMC. Fun shirts to celebrate their joint b-day on our Sunday morning wog! (P.S. Once you spot Nick's epic photobomb you won't be able to focus on anything else.)

4. A handful of solid, respectable, not-life-changing-but-somewhat-encouraging marathon-pace workouts such as 3x20 minutes and 2x6 miles, plus a few laps around the Beverly High School oval at slightly faster than 5k pace. I finally downloaded Garmin Connect, so if you're really that interested and need a distraction to pass a slow day at work, knock yourself out.   

5. An unexpected but totally, unquestionably deserved nomination for the LetsRun.com 2013 Running Photo of the Year contest featuring some (family-friendly) hot tub action with Laurie, Caitlin, Sarah C. and OH YEAH MEB after last year's Grandma's Marathon. At press time we are currently in second place behind some other picture that is somehow managing to outrank ours despite its total and complete lack of quality and overall hotness. To be honest, the voting process wasn't 100% clear to begin with and I'm not 100% sure the polls are still open, but just in case you should probably click on this link and then like or tweet our photo for good measure.

So, there you have it. Spring is finally here, my pale legs have made their first tentative forays into the ever-warming sunlight, and the training and racing season has finally begun in earnest. As I type this, tomorrow marks the one year anniversary of last year's Boston Marathon and all the events surrounding it. This entire week will serve as an opportunity to reflect and remember, while looking forward to this year's Marathon Monday with pure joy and excitement. I can't wait to race the BAA 5k and then cheer on my marathoning friends as I've done the past two years, watching Boylston Street be reclaimed for good. After that, it's just four short weeks until my own 26.2 attempt in Burlington.

I'll be ready.

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If It Looks Like Marathon Training...

3/3-3/9:
98 miles
4 doubles
3 workouts
20.5 mile-long run

2/24-3/2
82 miles
4 doubles
2 workouts
19-mile long run

If last week represented my first tentative steps onto the big-girl diving board, then this week was the headfirst plunge into the mileage abyss. Not only did I complete three workouts (well, one of those was a mini-workout--more on that in a minute) and a 20+ mile long run, but I actually felt strong and healthy and pretty darn good the entire week.

The week started out strong (and chilly) bright and early on Tuesday morning with another near-single digit road workout with Larissa. I was a bit apprehensive about this, both due to the temperature and the fact that I'd completed my longest run in months less than 48 hours prior, but we somehow managed to stay warm and positive enough to take care of business. (At least until my body temperature plummeted on the aptly named cooldown, rendering my extremities totally numb and my fingers incapable of even grasping and inserting my housekey into the door without Larissa's assistance.)

Workout #1: 2x1.5 mile progression w/2 min. jog, each 800m @3:10, 3:00, 2:50; 4x600m @5:20 pace (2:00) w/2 min. jog = 9 miles total

My next (mini-)workout took place during Thursday's lunch hour with my boss and two coworkers. They're all training for a late spring marathon and had 6x800m on tap at 5k pace. The problem is, they're fairly new runners and rarely race 5k's, so the pace was approximated to be 6:30 although I suspected they could go faster. Sure enough:

Workout #2: 6x800m w/3 mins. jog in 3:10, 3:10, 3:07, 3:07, 3:00, 2:59 = 7 miles total

From my perspective, it felt great to open up the legs a little bit without being too taxing, and I loved helping my comrades achieve the feeling of triumph that comes with exceeding your expectations and physical limitations. (Seriously, when's the last time you thought, "Well golly, I just couldn't seem to run slow enough during that workout!" Yeah, me neither. But I'm happy that such a euphoria apparently exists for others.)

But without a doubt, and like a true American weekend warrior, my two biggest days of the week took place on Saturday and Sunday. I'd planned well in advance for a long run on Sunday with Sarah Cummings, who was making a quick trip to Boston, and then I somehow found myself getting roped into (read: eagerly volunteering for) Sarah Bard's lengthy Saturday workout as well. On an unseasonably warm morning (or perhaps only unseasonable relative to the rest of the week/month/year), Sarah and I joined Kevin and another BAA male escort whose name escapes me for some 4-3-2-1 mile action on the Charles.

Workout #3: 4 mile (6:03, 6:02, 6:05, 6:08), 3:30 jog, 3 mile (6:00, 6:07, 5:57), 2:30 jog, 2 mile (5:50, 5:45), 1:30 jog, 1 mile (5:43) = 16 miles total

Takeaways from this workout were:

1. Sarah is really fit.
2. There may be hope for me yet.
3. I love seeing happy, active people enjoying the river on a Saturday morning--except when they're in my way.
4. 50 degrees is, indeed, warm enough to comfortably slam a post-run Frappuccino.

Though I questioned my weary body's ability to move, I somehow managed to remain bipedal and reasonably functional for an "easy" 20-miler (2:30 and 20.66 miles to be exact, not that I am enslaved to my new Garmin or anything) with the Sarahs and a few different male BAA escorts on Sunday. During that time we saw over half the Boston course and a 60-year-old man running shirtless wearing khaki pants and oven mitts, so I can't help but consider it a win.

Will I be able to walk tomorrow? Debatable. Am I officially training for some sort of spring marathon? It sure looks that way... 

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Meanwhile, In 2014

Jan 13-19
80 miles
14-mile long run
9-mile hilly uptempo at 6:28 pace
3 runs in Pittsburgh
1 treadmill run

Jan 6-12
65 miles
15-mile long run with the BAA
6 treadmill runs
3 canceled flights

Dec 29-Jan5
70 miles
13-mile long run with Hilary
4-mile race in 23:18
3xmile, 2x800 cutdown at Harvard indoor with Melissa and Sarah B
4 treadmill runs

So, you may have noticed I did not pen an effusive "2013 Year in Review." Or, maybe you didn't. Either way, I haven't written one, largely because there's not much to review in terms of running accomplishments. Honestly, in thinking back to my mindset a year ago, I may have been a bit...overzealous with my aspirations. After all, I was coming off a year of PR's in every distance from 10 miles up to the marathon, and I naively assumed that this trajectory of success would continue to skyrocket on a perfectly linear path right on through the next 12 months.

But, to sum up 2013 in a nutshell: it didn't happen. And that's okay.

Looking ahead, I'm no less motivated or determined to improve than I was last January, but this time around my optimism is also tinged with a healthy dose of reality. In running as in eating airport sushi, there are no guarantees, and I know I need to appreciate exactly where I'm at right now while at the same time striving to get back to--and eventually surpass--where I've been. I can only take it one week at a time.

Despite that heartwarming sentiment, it would be disingenuous of me to claim that the first 19 days of this new year have been all midgets and peanut butter. (Although there was a midget working the water stop at my New Year's Day race. But I digress.) It started out on a promising note, with the aforementioned four-miler on January 1st that took place on our familiar training roads here in Salem. Despite frigid, windy weather (first time I've ever raced in thermal tights, and I was never in any danger of overheating) I managed a halfway respectable 5:50 pace. So you're saying there's a chance! But the first snowstorm of the year roared in less than 24 hours later, ushering in the now-legendary polar vortex, which meant I spent much of the following week trying to convince myself that five and five on the YMCA treadmill was a perfectly acceptable double. Suffice it to say my momentum came to a sputtering halt.

But this week has been better. The air is thawed, the snow banks melted, the black ice practically a distant memory. I got in a few solid runs on a business trip to Pittsburgh, including a 12x1 minute workout that I was way more proud of than could ever possibly be warranted. (One of the ancillary benefits of easing into training again: excessive boosts of pride and self-esteem instantly gained by clearing the lowest of hurdles. Courageously soldiered on for six entire treadmill miles instead of stopping at a lowly five? Brilliant! Only hit the snooze button once this morning? YOU ARE AN UNSTOPPABLE FORCE.) On Saturday I took to one of my favorite training grounds (the Marblehead Neck) in some of my least favorite conditions (36 degrees, windy, raining), and surprised myself with a very comfortable uptempo effort on the unrelenting hilly terrain. In another exciting development, I was greeted upon returning from my trip this week by a care package from Nuun, welcoming me as an official member of their 2014 racing team. Rarely is a Nuun bottle far from my grasp whether I'm running, working, traveling or just lounging around pantsless drinking wine and updating my blog (gotta stay hydrated!), so needless to say I'm thrilled to make our relationship official.

Just a small sampling of my goodies from @nuunhydration

Will this trend of positivity continue? All signs point to yes...but, realistically, not next week. I'll be spending Monday night through Sunday in Salt Lake City at the Outdoor Retailer Winter Market, our biggest trade show of the entire year, and it's a doozy. The week entails a punishing schedule that includes four long days on the expo floor (not including an additional day of setup and a half day of breakdown) consisting of one presentation after another after another. I'll be eating like crap, drinking too much, sleeping too little and thoroughly exhausting myself by having to be unfailingly nice to people the whole damn time. I will also, ineluctably, end up with a cold. This will be my third year in attendance and the first time I'm aspiring to maintain some semblance of training throughout the whole endeavor. (Two years ago it was the week after the Trials, and last year I was darn proud of myself for getting up every morning to slog through six miles on the hotel treadmill.) Best case scenario, I'll get in a few miles of altitude training and not return home sick or morbidly obese. Stay tuned!

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A Nedlo Family Christmas Run

My dad, John Nedlo, henceforth referred to as J-Ned, had but one meager wish this Christmas: to rewrite, make that rerun, history. You see, J-Ned has undertaken the famed Boston Marathon two times with, shall we say, unsatisfactory results. He unwittingly picked two of the hottest years on record, '03 and '05 (not quite as steamy as '12, but close enough), and as a result ended up semi-coherently Gallowalking his way straight into the medical tent both times. To my knowledge, his finish line photos don't include the celebratory hand-holding of two Fuel Belt-clad Team in Training participants like someone's who shall remain nameless (but rhymes with Schmallen Schrickland) and whose epic and almost literal meltdown is chronicled here, but I'm pretty sure in '05 I spent the better part of two hours frantically darting up and down the crowded Back Bay streets calling everyone on my emergency contact list only to discover J-Ned slumped up against the side of a random building awaiting the sweet, sweet embrace of death.

This is not J-Ned. But it is my favorite Boston finish line photo of all time.

So anyhow, back to Christmas present. J-Ned wanted redemption, or at minimum a pleasant, memorable stroll up and down the Newton hills, through Brookline and down Commonwealth before hanging right on Hereford, left on Boylston. I was happy to oblige, and even snapped some pics along the way seeing as he's long since burned the official race photographs from the aforementioned attempts. And though he's allegedly sworn off marathons, I wouldn't be surprised if J-Ned makes one more trek from Hopkinton before hanging up his shoes for good. Maybe next year Santa will bring him a new, shiny BQ!

J-Ned ready to roll at the Newton fire station, mile 17.2-ish

One John posing with another

Taking a quick break before we tackle the final hill

One to go!

Finished! And potential future father/daughter Christmas card photo

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Winter Weather Workout(s): Part One

AM: 2 mile w/u + strides
Target: 10k tempo @ 35:45-36:30
Actual: 36:21 (5:51 pace); 18:18/18:03
1 mile c/d
Total: 9 miles

Last year, two and a half weeks out from Philly, I executed arguably my most difficult (and most impressive) workout(s) ever, consisting of a morning 10k tempo followed by an evening 10-miler at MP. Jordan, fresh off an injury, joined me for both efforts--and I dropped him on both. Having never outrun Jordan once in my life, much less twice in one day, this workout served as a huge confidence booster and solidified my fitness for what would be a breakthrough marathon performance a few weeks later.

With only 14 days separating me from my next 26.2 endeavor, it was time to attempt this workout again. Unfortunately, the weather had other plans.
 

Picture perfect conditions on tap for Sunday morning

I saw this abysmal forecast less than 24 hours before the first part of this workout was to begin and promptly started freaking out. I called Jordan, who was on the road, and we started running through our options. Unfortunately, delaying the workout wasn't one of them, as we'd be flying out for Thanksgiving on Monday evening, and anything after that would be much too close to the race. Could we try a treadmill? Certainly more favorable, but I unequivocally suck at treadmills and highly doubted I could run sub-6 pace for more than three consecutive minutes. I floated the scenario by Carly and Terry, who came up with the perfect solution (at least for Part One): the Harvard indoor track! Why didn't I think of that?? Oh wait, maybe because it meant I would be running 50 laps?!? But still, it was by far my best option. The next step was trying to recruit someone crazy enough to do this with me. I put out some feelers to the BAA with no success, and by Saturday night I'd all but tucked myself in on Sarah's futon (she lives so close to Harvard!) and resigned myself to doing this solo. Then, around 9:30pm, I received an email from a GBTC member named Charly Allan who'd heard of my plight and offered to help as part of his long run. Needless to say, I jumped at the offer and prayed he would actually show up the next morning.

Sure enough, just before 8am, my new BFF arrived as I was in the midst of my warmup jog counterclockwise along the perimeter of the eerily quiet facility. The weather prediction had been spot on, and as the gusts of wind howled around the outside of the building I knew I'd made the right decision. Before long, Charly and I were toeing the imaginary start line. The plan was simply to take it out conservatively, tuck in behind him and gradually crank the pace down during the second half--all without losing count of our laps. I was just as intimidated by the mental challenge as I was the physical one, and was beyond relieved that someone else was there to do the heavy lifting for me. I just needed to relax, zone out, fall into a rhythm behind Charly and trust that the pace would come naturally.

The first few laps felt clunky and awkward, both of us adjusting as strangers in a strange land. After the first mile or so I settled in, feeling comfortable and eager and trying not to clip his heels. The pace seemed slow, a little too easy, and I was unsurprised when we came through 5k a touch off the target. "Let's hold this until four, then gradually pick it up for the last two miles," I requested. He was happy to oblige, and before I knew it the invisible lap counter was down to single digits. We dug deeper (or at least I did) for the final mile, and I felt like I was working for the first time in 30 minutes. As we crossed the finish line to the applause of exactly no one, I was ecstatic--not just that the workout had felt relatively easy, but that I hadn't allowed the adverse weather conditions to thwart my carefully laid plans.

Actual weather at go time. Meanwhile, inside was pleasant and wind-free!

 At least, not yet. There was still an afternoon tempo to contend with, and the frigid winds showed no signs of abating. Time to go home, recover, and plot my next move... 

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Half-Marathon Boot Camp: Workout #3, or "30k For Emily's 30th"

Target: 30 min. easy, 30 min. tempo, 30 min. steady, 10x30 secs. hard for 30k total
Actual: 35 min. easy, 30 min. tempo @6 min. pace, 30 min. jogging around looking for Terry, 30 min. steady @~6:20 pace, 5 min. easy for 30k total

For her 30th birthday, Emily wanted to do something epic. Or, at minimum, epically symbolic. So after her initial plan of running the entire Boston course was scrapped due to, well, common sense, we enlisted Jordan to come up with something long and challenging but still fun and manageable, all in honor of the milestone of entering one's 30th year of life on this earth. He came up with the target workout above, which looked daunting enough on paper (especially considering it would be my longest run since Philly and my third workout in six days). Fortunately, Emily recruited others to join and help dissipate the suffering, including her former college teammate Christina and a rare joint appearance of Carly and Terry (made possible by Emily's mom, in town for the b-day celebration, virtually leaping at the chance to play surrogate grandmother for a few hours).

The group assembled at Emily's just after 9am, eager to get the run underway and even more eager to finish it up so we could return to a brunch feast that Emily's husband Matt had been slaving away over all morning. In fact, the toughest part of the run was forcing ourselves out the door with the tantalizing scent of fresh coffee and rising frittata wafting down the hallway behind us. Once out the door, however, we fell into a relaxed rhythm on the bike path in the direction of the arboretum. I'd never run there before, and in hindsight I'm glad that was the case, because if I'd known in advance how hilly it was I probably never would've agreed to run the entire tempo portion there. But from a logistical perspective it made perfect sense, since we could all work out at our own appropriate paces and still start and finish together. We prepared to pick it up, agreeing to meet back at our starting point 30 minutes later, and then set off to tackle what would be the toughest part of the run (even more difficult than leaving the kitchen behind, as it turned out). Almost immediately our group split into three natural pairings: myself and Jordan, Emily and Carly, Terry and Christina. As the two most unfamiliar with the territory, Jordan and I made a few wrong turns and came to a few dead ends before settling into a reliable loop, and as a result somehow ended up running the opposite direction as everyone else. This actually ended up being helpful for me, as I knew that every few minutes I would pass Carly and Emily, then Terry and Christina, and no matter how badly I was hurting I couldn't allow myself to get completely dropped at the risk of embarrassing myself in front of them. (That said, my increasingly pained facial expressions couldn't have done much in the way of making a good impression). Our pace fluctuated wildly, dictated by the undulating terrain, and every time we trudged up one particularly grueling hill I felt sure that  mile couldn't be faster than eight minutes. These are the times when I'm glad I don't wear a Garmin. Sometimes it's better not to know.

Somehow, I kept it together for 30 minutes, and shortly after finishing we were rejoined by Carly and Emily. Certain that Terry and Christina were close behind--after all, I'd just seen them less than 10 minutes prior--we dawdled around a bit near our meeting point, finally starting to jog in the direction from which we'd come after standing around became unbearably cold. Fully expecting to see them approaching at any minute, none of us were initially alarmed, but as the minutes ticked by it became clear that they simply weren't there. While I wasn't necessarily worried, I was definitely perplexed. If I know one truth to be constant, it is that Terry never, ever deviates from a plan. If we said to meet back in 30 minutes, he'd be there at 29:55 with a detailed mile-by-mile itinerary for the rest of our run. And yet, inexplicably, he wasn't there.

After another few miles of jogging around the arboretum, we agreed that the only logical explanation was that they'd somehow, for some reason, decided to forego the meeting and head back to Emily's. (Perhaps they were hoping to get a jump on the brunch buffet.) We'd already been on our feet for over 90 minutes and were growing more chilled with each step, so the only logical course of action was for us to do the same. Carly, clearly worried, began to pick up the pace. ("I hope he didn't have a heart attack," she said at one point, only half joking. I resisted the urge to respond with, "Don't worry; we would've heard the ambulance." Somehow I doubted that would provide much comfort.) Before I knew it, we'd crested the two-hour mark and were running uncomfortably close to my previous tempo pace--fortunately on a flat bike path this time, but my legs didn't seem to register much appreciation of this nuance.

Finally, mercifully, the run came to an end, and with it the discovery of nothing but good news: 30k was surpassed, Terry was fine (and somehow hadn't even heard the original "meet back in 30 minutes" plan), none of us received a parking ticket and at long last it was time to eat our collective body weight in brunch. Happy birthday, Emily!  

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Week in Review, or "That Time I Ate a Donut in the Middle of a Long Run"

85 miles
3 doubles
3 runs in Boston
3 runs with Emily

This post could've just as easily been titled "That Time I Ran 386 Laps Around the Harvard Parking Lot with the BAA," or "That Time Emily and I Found Out We Aren't As Out of Shape as We Thought." All three of these monikers are equally accurate, and all three effectively comprise the main takeaways from this week's key runs:

Sunday morning: 15-15.5 miles easy on the Boston Marathon course from Cleveland Circle with the BAA ladies (plus Jordan). About an hour into the run, the group had splintered into a handful of different groups, leaving Jordan and Emily and I standing in front of a Dunkin' Donuts somewhere in Newton. What can I say? Nature took its course, and the next thing I know the three of us were passing around a dense, gooey, double chocolatey frostedy donut while still running. It may have gotten a little messy, but no worse than when I clumsily try to rip open a gel packet during a race (and far tastier). Heartbreak Hill didn't stand a chance thanks to the ensuing sugar rush.

Saturday morning: ~13 mile progression run with a huge BAA crew around...the Harvard parking lot. Or, technically, the "Sheatock loop," so named for (or by, or both) the BAA's fearless leaders Carly and Terry. Given that the river path wasn't remotely frozen I'm still unclear as to why we insisted on spinning like an army of deranged hamsters around a 1200-meter loop, but at any rate the company was worth it.

Wednesday night:   
2 mile w/u
Target: 6x1000 w/1:30 jog @3:35 (5:45/mile pace); 4x500 @faster w/1:30 jog
Actual: 6x1000 @3:33, 3:31, 3:25, 3:26, 3:24, 3:21; 4x500 @1:39, 1:41, 1:38, 1:39
1.5 mile c/d
Total: 8.5 miles

Jordan pulled Emily and I through this workout on the Sheatock loop, and I think it's safe to say all of us were pleasantly surprised at how well it went considering we were basically dodging cars in the dark in the middle of a glorified parking lot. Excluding a baby fartlek last week I haven't worked out in over a month, and as per usual Emily claimed to be "terribly out of shape" after an extended trip home for the holidays. Fortunately we were able to average 5:30-5:40 pace on the 1000's with relative ease; only when I transitioned into the 500's at the end did I feel the telltale ragged breathing and burning legs that signify a dip into uncomfortably difficult territory. During one of our recovery jogs, Emily made me vow to hold her accountable and guilt her into working out for the remainder of the winter. It's always worth it once we're out here, she added. Tonight was a great start.     

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First 20-Miler of the Training Cycle

Target: 20 miles w/last 3 @6:00 pace
Actual: 1-8 @6:50-7:00; 9-16 @6:30-6:45; 17-20 @6:00-6:10
Total: 20 miles @2:15, then 1 easy

All things considered, I'm really pleased with how this run turned out. By "all things," I mean a hilly weekend of running in Atlanta, a 14-hour work/travel day with no dinner on Sunday and an uptempo half-marathon "workout" sandwiched somewhere in the middle. Without a doubt, this inaugural long run attempt could've unfolded much worse had I been on my own, which initially looked to be the case. Jordan's hip/leg/quad is still iffy and most of my Boston-area buddies had either raced the BAA Half on Sunday or would be racing/tempoing the Tufts 10k on Monday (or, in the case of my intrepid friend Caroline, both). But proving once again to live up to his reputation as the man with a plan, Terry stepped in and connected me with Princeton alum (and friend of Emily and Betsy) Sarah Cummings. I'd briefly met Sarah, a NYAC team member who often runs with Heidi and Jay in NYC, on a run in Central Park last winter. She is now training for a marathon debut at New York and was hoping to get in 16 miles while on a quick holiday weekend trip to Boston, and fortunately our schedules aligned perfectly. We arranged to meet around 9am, giving us ample time to run long and then shower (her) and eat (me) before cheering on our friends at Tufts. Good grief, I love it when a plan comes together.

The run began auspiciously, under sunny skies and crimson falling leaves, with a crisp tinge to the autumn air. I don't run along the Charles River frequently enough to be as thoroughly bored with it as Emily and some of the other BAA girls, and as I trotted from my car to our planned meeting spot I was thoroughly enjoying a view that looked to be plucked straight from a New England postcard. I met Sarah and her friend Katie at the Mass Ave bridge and we set off together with no particular route or destination in mind, content to follow the river path and make things up as we went along. From the outset I found myself a half step behind Sarah as my legs rebelled against a brisker-than-usual early tempo. But as the minutes ticked by, their exact number fading into the backdrop of our steady conversation, I found myself feeling stronger and lighter. At one point, approaching the 90-minute mark, Katie checked her Garmin and remarked that we were clipping along at a 6:35 pace. I was pleasantly surprised, not because of the pace itself but because of how unremarkable it felt. Katie peeled off a few minutes later, at which point Sarah and I continued on for a few more miles while maintaining if not tightening the pace. I dropped her off with a mere three miles remaining, incredibly grateful to have spent almost two hours engrossed in conversation as opposed to constantly checking my watch. Without a Garmin I have no concrete idea of how fast I closed the run, but I do know I pushed harder in the final 15 minutes than I had at any previous point. I finished feeling equal parts hungry and exhausted, strong and exhilarated, and totally excited for my next long effort.

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Eight By Mile By Moonlight

2.5 mile w/u
Target: 8xmile w/1 min. rest: 2x5:50, 2x5:40,2x5:35, 2x5:30
Actual: 5:47, 5:48, 5:38, 5:39, 5:37, 5:36, 5:34, 5:32
0.5 mile c/d
Total: 11 miles

Actually, there wasn't much moonlight. I just liked the alliteration. In reality, this evening was just as drizzly and cloudy and gloomy as the handful that have preceded it. The only bright spot was a metaphorical one, the opportunity to work out with a strong contingent of BAA ladies. For the first time in many months, I made the trek down to Harvard for the Wednesday night workout and ended up being incredibly glad I did. This lengthy but not particularly fast workout, which looked benign enough on paper, ended up being a bit of a grind. I suppose that mentally I was flashing back to the last time I did mile repeats on this track, a cool spring evening almost six months ago when I'd clicked off six repeats with two minutes rest and averaged around 5:20. Never mind that I'd been at the peak of my spring fitness and running significantly less weekly volume; in my mind, running just two more intervals at a significantly slower pace should be a breeze.

In summary: it wasn't. But with a little help from my friends, I got through it.

For the first two intervals, I jumped in with a group that was running 1200 repeats. Unsure of what 5:50 pace was supposed to feel like, I tucked in at the back of the pack and hoped we would settle into a rhythm. Instead our first few laps were all over the place, resulting in me overcompensating and inadvertently splitting an 81 last lap to ultimately finish ahead of schedule in 5:47. That may not have been the smartest move on my part, but I reasoned that I'd rather be a few seconds ahead than a few seconds behind. (Easy to say at that point.) Emily and Hilary--the girl who gave me a good throttling at 13.1 Boston a few weeks ago--entered the workout at the start of the third interval and immediately picked up the pace. For the next several repeats I found myself a good 20 meters behind Emily with Hilary equidistant between us, but fortunately there were plenty of other girls around to help me settle in and not get discouraged. I was quickly learning that the term "one minute recovery" was somewhat of an oxymoron, and as we progressed through the workout like clockwork my legs grew increasingly heavy.

By this point, the track was almost completely dark save for the ambient light spilling over from the adjacent soccer fields. (Apparently one of the richest institutions in the country does not have an endowment dedicated to lighting its outdoor track facilities, or at the very least its track alums are not as beneficent as its soccer alums.) Most of the other girls had departed for their cooldown, leaving just Emily, Hilary and myself with the always trusty Terry holding the stopwatch. Unlike the previous intervals, I actually led off for the first lap of this one and stuck close to the girls until they pulled away on the final straightaway. Hilary, less than two weeks removed from her goal marathon, was finished at this point--as were my legs. Had Emily suggested bagging the final repeat I would've struggled to find a reason to demur, but instead I found myself to agreeing to trade off leading each lap. Both of us were obviously laboring--myself clearly more so--but when your training partner is putting forth such a team effort there's really no justification for giving up. 

Overall, I'm pleased with completing the workout but a bit disappointed that I wasn't able to achieve the desired progression. My average was probably right on, but instead of overachieving on the first half it would've been nice to feel strong clicking off low- or sub-5:30s through the second half. Regardless, I have no doubt I'll reap tangible fitness gains from both the pace and volume of this workout.

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(New Record High!) Week in Review

107 miles
11 runs
15-mile long run
1 hour yoga
7 days/nights at home

With a significantly less hectic work schedule, no travel and my previously detailed abundance of sleep, it was actually quite easy to hit this week's unexpectedly record-setting mileage total. Winning a few bucks was a much-appreciated bonus, as was capping off the week with some enjoyable miles and even more enjoyable social time along the Charles with Emily and a strong BAA contingent--including a special guest appearance by Teresa, back from her Fulbright fellowship in Mumbai for a brief sojourn. The air is crisp, the leaves are beginning to change and pumpkin-flavored products are in abundance: it's officially autumn in New England!

Not only am I lucky enough to enjoy this famously beautiful and temperate season, but I'm also fortunate to be embarking on my marathon-specific training at the same time. The past three weeks' half-marathon trifecta established a baseline for this incipient phase of my race preparation, and by all accounts I'd say I'm feeling pretty good about where things stand. The most important thing is that after a summer of unprecedented (for me) high mileage, I'm feeling 100% healthy and remarkably fresh as opposed to banged up or worn down. This is likely due to taking several strategic down weeks, banking some much-needed sleep (have I mentioned that already?) and not having really gone to the well with any grueling workouts or long runs. In fact, true "long" runs have been all but nonexistent save for an impromptu 20-miler with Brett and Jordan during my first high-mileage week way back in June. With only eight weeks remaining until Philly, it's time to start incorporating a smattering of 18-22 milers--ideally with some of those miles at marathon pace--into my training regimen, along with, you know, some sort of structured workout routine. Honestly though, I don't think it will take anything drastic to round me into race shape provided I can continue to stay healthy and strong.

While Philly stands as the end goal, I will have several interim opportunities to test my fitness. The first will be Army 10 Miler, exactly one month from now and one month from the marathon. Last year, recently removed from injury, I ran this race "for fun" with Caitlin and pleasantly surprised myself with a 58:55 clocking. Seeing as I split 59:00 through 10 miles in last weekend's half-marathon, I've obviously got higher hopes for this year's edition. In fact, I've set the ambitious if somewhat arbitrary goal of running 57:00, or just under 5:45 place, which has a realistic chance of placing me as the first non-African (which again is completely arbitrary seeing as there's no prize money or specific award designation either way). The next week I'll be in Dallas working and running yet another 13.1 event. Last year I just eeked under 1:20 at this race (including an unplanned but absolutely necessary bathroom detour) and really enjoyed the relatively flat, fast course. This year the event will fall three weeks before Philly and I'm hoping to run 1:16:30 or faster. Not only would that be a much-needed half PR but it would also boost my confidence with the knowledge that I could split a full three minutes slower through the half at Philly and still achieve my marathon goal.

So, there you have it: a goal, a plan, a checklist to keep me on track along the way. It sounds overly simplistic, but then I've never been one who believed marathon training to be complicated. I trust the process, I trust my body, and I go to bed tonight excited to wake up early and begin the next phase of this journey.

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13.1 Boston Race Results

1 mile w/u
Target: 13.1 miles @goal MP (1:17-1:19; 5:55-6:05) and WIN
Actual: 1:17:48 (5:55 pace); 2nd place
Splits (from memory): 5k @18:15; 10k @36:30; 10 mile @59:00
Total: 14 miles
Results

I owe my readers a detailed recap but for now I wanted to write down the details before I forget. Suffice it to say I got my doors blown off out there despite running faster than my victorious Chicago Half race last weekend. I'm tired. 
 

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Second Verse, Same As the First

2 mile w/u
Target: 5.5 miles @6:00-5:55 pace; 6 min. jog/rest; 5.5 miles @5:55-5:50 pace
Actual: 5.5 miles @32:30ish; 6 min. jog/rest; 2.5 miles @14:40ish
3+ mile c/d
Total: 14 miles

Two weekends ago, fresh off an extended trip to the left coast and a restless redeye flight, I dragged Jordan down to the Charles to join Jenn, Emily and some BAA dudes for what was intended to be a 12-mile tempo effort. Due to my general state of exhaustion and a gravely necessary bathroom break, that workout ended up morphing into something slightly less intense and significantly less impressive. This morning, with Jenn already planning to maintain a faster pace (5:50 was advertised as opposed to 6:00 like the previous run), I knew that even without a built-in jet lag excuse I wouldn't be able to hang on for 12 miles faster than my half-marathon PR. Instead, I planned to stop at essentially the same location where I made my bathroom detour last time, as this was almost exactly at 5.5 miles and would thus allow for a delightfully long recovery segment before the group turned around and caught back up with me. Hopefully by that time I'd feel refreshed enough to tuck in and tough it out for the remainder of the workout.

Within a few minutes of starting the warmup, however, I could tell the conditions would be adversarial. Unlike the cool, calm, overcast morning that greeted us several weekends ago, today the already-prominent sun radiated a dense, sticky heat. A warm wind whipped off the water, making it immediately obvious that we'd have to battle its gusts for several miles of both halves of the u-shaped run route. Don't get me wrong; things could've been much worse. In fact, for any purpose other than attempting a hard workout it was by all measures a beautiful morning. But these were hardly the weather conditions I'd pick to race a half-marathon, which is essentially what we'd be doing. 

As 8:00 approached, so did a trickle of runners to our meeting point from virtually every direction. By go time there were almost a dozen of us, mostly the usual suspects and including our favorite baby daddy Terry Shea. On his suggestion, I joined him and Emily for a 15-second head start on the group. Quite simply, neither she nor I wanted (or really needed) to hit 5:50 pace right out of the gate on a run of this length, especially since she was contemplating extending even farther beyond 12 miles. Instead Terry led us out in a calm, comfortable 6:05-6:10 (not sure the exact split as I intentionally avoided glancing at my watch) at which point we were absorbed by the chase group as planned. From that point onward I focused on settling in and locking my eyes on Jordan's back just as I've done countless times before. Jenn was situated at my left and seemed quite comfortable, but I could hear Emily breathing harder than normal just behind me. It clearly wasn't a fitness issue, seeing as she crushed me in the original workout two weeks ago, but for whatever reason I could tell that she was struggling to find her rhythm. The miles clicked by, and before I knew it we rounded the bridge that signaled the approach of the 5.5 marker. I slowed and trotted to the side as planned and was not entirely surprised when Em did the same. It wasn't her day and she knew it, so rather than force the issue she was content to jog with me for a few minutes and then shut things down. Emily is smarter about listening to her body than almost any runner I know, so I didn't question her decision. (Though I would definitely miss her company on the second half!) 

I shuffled along for a few more minutes until I could see the group approaching in the distance. At that point it was time for me to refocus and, unlike in the first segment, commit to pushing past my comfort zone. My breathing to that point had been surprisingly calm and relaxed but my legs were heavy. (As well they should have been, as I'd already logged over 90 miles since Monday.) I felt sure of my ability to lock into 6-minute pace or even 5:55, but if Jordan stepped on the gas like last time I'd be toast. Steady as clockwork, the group materialized around the bend behind me and I seamlessly fell in line. This time it was Jenn whose breathing sounded increasingly ragged, and every step we took into the wind seemed to sap a bit more of her strength. I, too, began to fall off the boys but was still maintaining some semblance of the intended pace, so when Jenn and a few others decided to stop at eight miles I continued onward for a few more uncomfortable minutes. I tried to stay focused on the backs of the guys in front of me (even as those backs grew increasingly more distant), but after one more mile I knew I was almost in the red. The heat, the wind, the dead legs--it was all too much to allow me to finish the entire distance feeling as strong and confident as I'd hoped. Instead I waited for Jenn to approach so we could commiserate and cool down side by side. It wasn't our best workout ever, but that certainly doesn't discount the effort or the fitness gains attained.

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Harvard Track Mile Repeats

2.5 mile w/u + strides
Target: 6xmile @5:20 avg. w/2 mins. rest
Actual: 5:23, 5:24, 5:19, 5:19, 5:21, 5:21
2.5 mile c/d
Total: 11-11.5 miles

Just as Jordan and I were debating several undesirable options for our Wednesday track workout--Crack of dawn at the Village track? Push our limits with a two-hour lunch break? Wait until after work and race the sunset?--my inbox pinged with an email from Terry. Turns out one of the BAA workout groups would be doing 5xmile, which was almost identical to the 6xmile that Jordan had suggested for me. The decision was simple. Less than 24 hours later we hit the road from Beverly into Boston, Jordan's newly arrived mom in tow, hoping we could avoid rush hour traffic and drop her off at a coffee shop or some other pleasant diversion while still making it to the workout on time. Miraculously, all of the above happened relatively smoothly, and at 6am on the dot we were ready to rock and roll.

After a leisurely warmup and costume change, the group assembled on the track. It quickly became apparent that while there were several dozen other athletes preparing to work out, very few of them would actually be doing the exact same regimen as me. Specifically, Jordan would be assuming his standard role of queenmaker for me and Emily while Melissa jumped in and out for several 400-meter repeats, but other than that we were on our own. To be honest, that didn't make things all that much different than if we'd hung back and done the workout at home, but just feeling the group energy and positive buzz was enough to convince us we'd made the right decision by coming down.

For the first two intervals, everything felt ridiculously easy as Emily and I naturally fell into a single file line behind Jordan. Even from the early stages I could tell her breathing was labored--turns out she preferred to spend her recent European vacation frolicking around exotic locales and eating exotic pastries instead of slaving away at the banality of hitting mileage goals--but talent like hers doesn't go away overnight. Sticking close to my side, she and I both tucked in behind Jordan and let him set the metronomic pace. Once the splits dropped to sub-5:20 on interval #3, my comfort level immediately dissipated. As crazy as it sounds, 5:24 felt like an absolute jog while 5:19 immediately felt like a sprint. Emily, too, was tiring quickly, but gamely stuck around through interval #4 even after initially planning to drop after #3. She's so tough, and I know the time will come sooner than later when I'll be seeing nothing but her back during sessions like these.


With two intervals to go, it was down to Jordan and myself with Terry at the watch. The wind began to gain strength as the rain that had threatened finally began to fall in sharp, angry droplets. This was the point in the workout when I'd envisioned triumphantly surging ahead and powering away to sub-5:15 splits...instead, I struggled to hang on to something resembling 5:20. The final few laps were particularly ugly, and though those splits were nothing impressive I can assure you that I gave it everything I had.

Putting things in perspective, tonight's 5:21 average was identical to three weeks ago when Jordan led me through mile repeats on the Beverly High track, only tonight I did two more intervals and took a minute less rest between each. Though I was disappointed in my inability to close out today's workout with some faster splits, overall this effort was clearly superior to the previous one and indicative of my ever-increasing fitness. I hope this translates into a respectable performance at the New Balance Twilight 10k next weekend.

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Tempo and Track

2.5 mile w/u
Target: 4 mile progression starting @5:55; jog to track then 8x400m @75-77 w/60 secs. rest
Actual: 22:53/5:43.2 avg. (5:47, 5:45, 5:41, 5:40); ~5 min. rest/jog
8x400 @76, 75, 75, 75, 74, 74, 73, 72
2.5 mile c/d
Total: 11-12 miles

Another Saturday morning, another BAA workout at Harvard. Jordan and I were out the door early to make the 8am meeting time, arriving to the track with several minutes to spare. Our predominantly female group included Emily--fresh off a two-week vacation overseas and "fun run" at the London Marathon--Brett and Matt, Melissa Nash, Caitlin's friend Liz and several other BAA regulars. Conspicuously absent were Carly and Terry, who are off in Pennsylvania doing baby-related things. I was excited to have Jordan's pacing services and a solid group effort simultaneously, circumstances that haven't aligned in quite some time. I also felt a bit nervous about the mere 48-hour turnaround time after Thursday morning's 12x800 effort, but my legs felt light and surprisingly fresh enough on the warmup to banish any negative thoughts.

After a quick return to the cars for shoe changes, jacket removals and bathroom breaks, we trotted back over to our starting point on the Charles. Once again we would be traversing the "slow tempo loop," which today would be rendered more unfavorable due to the frequency and depth of mid-path puddles. On the flip side, the wind was uncharacteristically calm, the least obtrusive I've ever experienced on this loop, and though the air felt thick with humidity there were plenty of clouds to keep the temperature comfortable. Since our group naturally fell into two pace tiers, the plan was to give the first wave a 40-45 second head start before Jordan, Emily, Brett and I set out after them. Melissa, who is somewhat between the two groups, would start in the first wave and then latch onto us a few miles in. None of us were the slightest bit surprised that Terry had orchestrated this down to the minutest details even though he wasn't there in person.


Like clockwork, our two waves went off in succession, and I stuck to Jordan's side with Emily and Brett tucked in behind. My legs felt light and fast and the pace came easily. At one point Jordan admonished me to relax, but I didn't feel like I was pressing. Passing the first mile marker in 5:47 was a huge surprise--not only was it well ahead of goal pace, but it felt so easy. A quarter mile later we approached the first group, and true to plan Melissa latched on. It felt great to feed off the positive energy as we all encouraged each other. Mile two, always the slowest portion of the loop, came and went in another surprisingly quick split of 5:45. My legs were still feeling strong, and mentally I was relishing the fact that we were already halfway done. Maybe this short-distance business is better than marathon training! My legs began to fatigue as we split 5:41 on the traditionally quick third mile, but I knew I could keep my eyes glued to Jordan's back for another five minutes. The sound of Melissa's insistent footfalls close behind also motivated me to keep the pace honest. I focused on finishing with good, controlled form, knowing there was still more--and faster--running to be done. Jordan and I crossed the four-mile marker with Melissa right behind, then Emily, then everyone else in quick succession.

Several minutes and a short jog later, we were ready to take to the track. Melissa planned to join me for some of the 400s, while the other girls would go straight into a few k's of on/off 200s. Just as in the tempo, Melissa stuck close on my heels for the first four laps. After today's effort, I'm pretty sure she needs to permanently move up to the quicker tempo group! As for myself, I felt comfortable and strong through the first six, but then the post-tempo heaviness descended into my legs and quickly. Finishing the final two, I still felt strong but was decidedly relieved to call it a day instead of pushing to 10 as Jordan had originally suggested/threatened.


So, to be honest, this workout leaves me equal parts excited and perplexed. Excited because I was able to execute two of arguably my best workouts of the year in close proximity, but perplexed about why this obvious fitness hasn't translated to my most recent races. Mentally, I needed today and Thursday to get my confidence back on track. Physically, I'm trusting that these efforts will manifest themselves soon. Honestly, I think my races would go a lot better if I could enlist Jordan's queenmaking services like I do in workouts. Maybe he could just wear a feminine wig? Actually, given the fact that he shaves his legs and is currently sporting a mullet longer than Billie Jean King's, that might not be necessary.

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Marathon Monday

From the moment I awoke on Monday morning and glanced out the window, I knew the prognosticators had been right. It was going to be a hot one, perhaps even record-breaking. It may seem a bit paradoxical to say I was filled with equal parts excitement and dread, but that's exactly how I felt about spectating the race. On the one hand I was thrilled to be experiencing Marathon Monday as a fan of the sport and friend of many of the race participants. On the other hand, it was almost a certainty that every single person I knew, regardless of fitness level, would miss their goal times. At best, many of them would resign themselves to this irrefutable fact early on and adjust their game plans. At worst, others would struggle stubbornly against the elements until the elements mightily, emphatically won. It would not be pretty.


But first, before any of the carnage unfolded, Emily and I had our own run to tackle. We met up with Carly in Back Bay and carpooled up to Wellesley, where we planned to camp out several hours later. As we drove up Comm Ave through the Newton hills, tracing the marathon course in reverse, it was hard not to get swept up in the magical feeling that is Marathon Monday in Boston. Even now, hours before the race was to begin, the road was crowded with cyclists, runners and walkers, volunteers, police officers and even incredibly dedicated spectators who'd already staked out their prime viewing spots. (The fact that several of them were obviously sunbathing already only further reinforced the absurdity of the weather situation.) Arriving to Wellesley at 8am meant we got an ideal parking spot in the downtown train station parking lot, steps away from the halfway point on the course but still with easy access out of the lot and back to the highway. For the next 90 or so minutes we meandered around the nearby soft surface trails, concerning ourselves more with the next available water fountain than the pace. While we were having a great time frolicking around in the woods, we were also getting hot. In particular Carly, our pregnant companion, noticed how much stronger and more intense the sun felt than any other day during her pregnancy. The three of us grew somber with the realization that if we were struggling now, before most racers had even toed the line in Hopkinton, the situation for everyone from elites to charity runners was going to get real in a hurry.


Thanks to excellent strategic planning (Terry would be proud), we made it back to the car with plenty of time to towel off, grab a few key belongings, dash the spirits of several drivers hoping to snag our parking space, and secure a spot on the edge of the race course with minutes to spare before the elite women came by. We also had in our possession a cooler and large bag filled with several frozen water bottles of all shapes, sizes and varieties. Carly had pre-arranged a handoff with several BAA sub-elite runners, and I'd let Jay know I would have one ready for him as well. For what was probably only a few minutes but seemed like an eternity, we had nothing to do but hurry up and wait. The crowds swelled as we gradually found ourselves surrounded by several hundred other ebulliant fans, all of whom were just as nervous and excited for their daughters and sisters and fathers and friends as we were for ours. For now, in those expectant moments, the only aura was excitement. As we would learn, for many the dread would soon follow.


The elite women passed first, and once the lead African pack had passed it became apparent that most were already struggling. None were walking--yet--but not a few of them had already been reduced to a shuffle. For the three of us, I think that was the first moment of the day that was actually sobering, a harbinger of things--and people--to come. The men's elite field came by several minutes later, looking markedly better but still incredibly, absurdly hot. We stood quietly, nervously, craning our necks off into the distance in hopes that the yellow and blue BAA jerseys would materialize soon. Shortly thereafter several did, and the next 30 minutes or so passed in a flurry of activity as we busied ourselves with handing out the water bottles. Technically, this type of behavior is against the rules of this and any other major marathon. Today, I would've defied anyone to stop us. It's probably telling of the situation at hand that we earned bursts of cheers and applause for our efforts, especially on the handful of occasions when we had to toss the bottles into the road and, miraculously, every time they were snagged from midair by their intended targets. Around the 1:17 mark I saw Jay's familiar loping form in the distance, and several seconds later he was right by my side still looking fresh and strong. I handed him a bottle and some words of encouragement and then watched him stride ahead, his two Urban Athletics teammates close behind. The next familiar face we expected to see was Betsy's, but as the minutes passed and the masses thickened we began to grow concerned. Instead, the first woman we saw approaching from the mass start was Emily's friend (and our other housemate for the weekend), Meredith. She was grinning from ear to ear and easily looked the best and most comfortable of anyone else we knew. Similarly, Elle passed by shortly thereafter also beaming. (Side note: I'm certain Dalena Custer from Charlotte must have also gone by during this time as she finished right between these girls in the final results, but I never saw her. Must've been going too fast!) Over the next few minutes I spotted several jerseys I recognized, from CRC (go, Caleb Boyd!) to Trak Shak to Charlotte Running Company to TrySports, but still no Betsy. We were just about to abandon our post and book it to Heartbreak Hill, our second destination, when Emily spotted her. I quickly grabbed a bottle of water and sprinted after her, knowing with a sinking heart that she was already struggling in the conditions. Like hundreds if not thousands of others, today was not meant to be her day.


Once I rejoined Carly and Emily, it was time to embark on a race of our own to Heartbreak Hill. We made it there in remarkably good time and located a stellar parking spot, which meant we'd still have an opportunity to see most if not all of our friends. I hoped to catch Jay, but he must've already passed--which for him was a good thing!--so I would estimate we arrived just in time to see those who would ultimately finish in the 2:45 to 3:00 range. You know, those who typically look fit and spry and sprightly. Today, in sharp contrast, I doubt there were more than a few 7-minute miles among them. As Allen said with painful eloquence in his own tortured race recap (which, by the way, is still hilarious and incredibly well written because--SPOILER ALERT--he managed to not die from heat stroke), most of their hearts had been broken long ago. The minutes ticked by at an agonizing pace, as did most of our friends, some looking far better off than others, and after a while it was honestly too difficult to watch. We left, shaking our heads in disbelief and awe at the throngs of racers pushing themselves to--in some cases beyond--their limits, with a dogged perseverance and tenacity that no doubt embodies the true spirit of the Boston Marathon. As much as I respected them all, I have never in my life been more grateful to not be competing in a race.


The rest of the race was a bit anticlimactic, at least for me. By the time we arrived back to Emily's and made our way to Boylston Street, the crowds were too dense to allow us many good views of the finishing stretch. I'd once again missed Jay, who held on strong to finish remarkably close to his PR. We did see Meredith bounding by, still looking as fresh as ever in 2:55, with Dalena (who I finally saw!) and Elle soon to follow. By that point Jay and most of the BAA guys had already passed, but many of our other friends would still be quite some time. Having spent the past six hours out in the sun myself, I felt as tired and salty as if I'd just finished my own marathon. We decided to head back to Emily's, only then hearing reports that both the men's and women's winners had run the slowest Boston winning times in years. Last year's champion, Geoffrey Mutai, had dropped out due to heat-related cramps. The returning women's champion, Caroline Kilel, was rumored to have been seen walking somewhere near Fenway, another victim of the extreme conditions. One of the most prestigious sporting events in the world had been reduced to nothing more than a quest for survival.


And yet, miraculously, everyone did survive. I say that with no facetiousness, given that hardly a warm marathon goes by anymore without one unfortunate report of death. I think it's a testament to the efforts and organization of the BAA, coupled with the general level of fitness and preparedness that most Boston runners take with them to the race, that mercifully resulted in today not becoming another statistic. I'm relieved that all of my friends made it out of there only slightly worse for the wear, and I have nothing but the utmost respect for everyone who toed the line today knowing it would be tough and embracing the challenge anyway. As for myself, I leave Marathon Monday the same way I approached it, feeling excitement tinged with dread. I know for certain that I never, ever want to run Boston if it means experiencing conditions like today's. But I'd also be lying if I didn't admit that a part of me pictures myself out there next year, tearing up Heartbreak Hill and sprinting for the finish down Boylston. Either way, one way or another, I'll be back for Marathon Monday in 2013.

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BAA 5k Race Recap

2.5 mile w/u + strides
Target: 5k @16:50-59 and/or top 15
Actual: 17:10, 15th place
Results
3 mile c/d
Total: ~9 miles

When Emily and I originally decided to run the BAA 5k a few weeks ago, we decided to approach it both as a hard, painful rustbuster and also as an opportunity to participate in marathon weekend without actually running the whole silly marathon. (This was a decision made long before the Marathon Monday weather forecast took on the life of its own that will now live in infamy, but as the weekend progressed that would only further reinforce the soundness of our thought process.) That said, I would be lying if I didn't admit that a large part of me was planning on swinging for the fences and setting a big road PR. After all, my training has been going well as of late, and if I'm hoping to throw down any remotely fast times on the track later this spring then I need to demonstrate some semblance of progress now.

I woke up early on Sunday morning feeling excited and energized but with a tinge of nervousness. For the upteenth time in the course of a few days, I realized how appreciate I was to Emily and Matt for hosting us at their house all weekend. To say they're conveniently located to the marathon festivities is a drastic understatement, as their front steps are less than two blocks away from the famed Boylston finish line. Since this landmark would also serve as the start and finish for today's 5k, that meant my transportation to and from the race would consist of little more than walking out the front door and trotting down the sidewalk for a few minutes. Long port-a-potty lines? Not a problem when your "hotel" is just as close as the nearest facilities and much less crowded.

To say, however, that the entire pre-race experience was stress free is omitting one tiny detail: Jordan forgot my race number. In the Airstream. Which was over at the Seaport Convention Center. To be fair, I'm the one who initially forgot it the day before after picking it up at the marathon expo. But after multiple texts and one phone call during which Jordan assured me he was putting the number in his bag, I didn't think twice about it. Fast forward to 7am on race morning, t-minus 60 minutes until go time, when I began quietly rummaging through Jordan's backpack while he slept off a beer or four in the bed beside me. After a few unsuccessful minutes, I nudged his groggy rat-tailed head and asked him to find it for me. Several frantic minutes and muttered expletives later, Jordan stumbled from the bed, hastily pulled on his speediest Karhus and sprinted out the door. He would be making the four mile round trip to and from the Airstream, hopefully with number in hand, in time to pin it on my kit and send me to the starting line in a little less than an hour. In contrast, I set off on a leisurely warm-up jog with Emily, forcing myself not to stress and reminding myself that Jordan excels at running while hungover. This is an underappreciated, but often quite useful, talent that would come in handy today.

Sure enough, less than five minutes before the start of the race and only two minutes after a heavily panting Jordan arrived with my bib, Emily and I squeezed through the dividers and wiggled our way to the front of the race. I immediately spotted several familiar faces, including my friend Kim Smith and my friend and former D2 rival Sarah Porter, but overall I was shocked by the sheer number of race participants and fans who had turned out. When my dad ran Boston in 2005 I joined him for the BAA 5k, but at the time I remember it being more of a lackadaisical fun run where we ambled around Boston Common and back. Nowadays it's serious business, with a legit elite field and prize purse on the line. I was starting to feel a bit out of my league, but fortunately Emily was there to remind me of our primary goals: run hard, run fast and enjoy the experience. As the gun sounded and we set off down Boylston Street into the morning sunshine, I felt nothing short of inspired.

No doubt it was that euphoric feeling, coupled with the breakneck speed at which the actual real elites sprinted off the starting line, that apparently caused my adrenaline-addled brain to convince my legs that they had only signed up for a mile race. If I had to put a conservative estimate on it, I'd say I charged through the first 400 meters at around five minute pace. When my legs finally got the memo that they had never, under any circumstances, actually run an entire mile--much less three consecutive miles--in five minutes, they immediately pulled back on the throttle. Unfortunately, the damage was already done. My fate was sealed by the time I hit the Boston Common hill toward the end of the first mile, a marker I passed in a 5:28 that felt far too labored. It was around this time that Esther Erb, a Zap Fitness athlete, came bounding past me. If you take a gander at the results and see how her finishing time differs drastically from mine, you'll understand how she, more than anyone else in the race, inadvertently taught me a lesson. Though I don't know her following two splits, they undoubtedly got faster from there thanks to her measured and conservative start, while I sputtered agonizingly backwards.

Unfortunately, thanks to my rookie tactical mistake, I didn't really enjoy the remaining 10 or so minutes as much as I'd hoped. I did hear a surprising number of passing cheers from people who actually knew me--Lauren and Jay Holder, Jocelyn Sikora, Betsy Burke, Chris "Gundy" Gunderson, Donna Sterns and my high school coach Tony Collins come to mind, though I know there were others--but I wasn't able to put on much of a show for them. I felt like I was crawling as we made the uphill turn onto Hereford Street before taking the final left onto Boylston. As I'm sure thousands of marathoners would realize the following day, that last stretch is a lot farther than it looks. I kicked for home for what seemed like an eternity, finally crossing the finish line in a decidedly underwhelming 17:10. Emily finished just a few steps behind me, quite impressive given her recent retirement (and subsequent un-retirement) from running. The flat course and stellar weather had primed many people for fast times today, but for whatever reason I was unable to capitalize on them. I didn't bomb, but I didn't achieve that highly sought after "breakthrough performance" either. Still, Emily and I accomplished the goals we set out for ourselves, and with an exciting Marathon Monday ahead of us and some freshly baked muffins awaiting our return there was little reason to dwell in disappointment.

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