Something more fulfilling than running

Setting up for the many in need

Last night me and my family spent a few hours helping to provide basic items to families in need. Some of the recipients were facing difficult economic circumstances, while others were still disrupted from the effects of Hurricane Sandy. Our task involved handing out vitamins, baby food and supplies to people. My wife possesses great process and organizational skills and she had me and the kids working seamlessly to serve the many dozens of families that came through our station.

We found out about this volunteering opportunity through Island Harvest, a food bank on Long Island. I was happy to help, but I never expected to feel so good about what I was doing. When you offer things of value to people for free, you'd expect a little greediness. I was amazed by how so many asked only for what they needed, and were so gracious about receiving it.

That experience made me think about how racing and charity are often tied together. Just about every race has some cause attached to it. In some cases, the race is explicitly about the charity, like breast cancer or multiple sclerosis. Other races, like the ING NY Marathon, raise a collective $25 million by allowing teams of charity runners an opportunity to run in the race.

My family has a particular attachment to the Marcie Mazzola Foundation race that is held every April, because it was my first-ever race and it's all about the Foundation. Other races I run are less clear about the causes they serve and some are not tied to a charity at all. I've decided that, in the future, if I run in a race that that has no clear connection to a cause, I'll donate money for every mile I run. But as good as it feels to donate money, I've learned that it's even more gratifying to donate time.

Ready to race again

A return to race driven workouts

Today's run (treadmill): 2.5 miles

It's interesting how your running focus can ebb and flow throughout the year. In the first few months of 2012, my mind was on racing and I was happy to attain PR's for my 4 mile and half marathon distances. The experience I had at the New Hyde Park 8K was a turning point for me, and not in a good way. After that race, I'd lost some of my competitive spirit. I did run in a corporate 5K in July, but I skipped the Dirty Sock in August, a race that I'd run the previous three years.

Cow Harbor restored my interest in competing and although I didn't break (or even approach) a personal record, I loved being back in the game. Now that Cow Harbor has come and gone, I'm looking ahead to my next race. I've targeted the town of Oyster Bay's Supervisor's run that takes place in mid-October. It's a 5K that features a long hill going up and another long hill coming down. Happily they put the uphill and the downhill in the right order.

With my interest in performance restored, I've approached my last two workout runs with the mindset that I'm training for a race. By using my HRM to shame me into running faster, I'm managing to get past my natural dislike of the treadmill. It's fun to blip up the speed control until I get my heart rate to my targeted level. This morning I had another invigorating run at a speed that I usually avoid on the treadmill. I hope to take this focus back on the road tomorrow, when I return to the street.

Are gender-specific races sexist?

Today's run (street): 4.4 miles

My colleague and friend FS ran in the NYRR Mini 10K yesterday, and that got me thinking about gender-specific races. The Mini 10K originates back to the days when women's distance running was virtually banned by most racing associations. The mindset of the time was ridiculous, and it wasn't until the 1984 Olympics that women could finally compete at the full marathon distance. But today, there are no such issues, and the percentage of women finishers at every race distance is over 50%.

Excluding men from women-oriented races doesn't make much sense to me at this point. I suppose women-only events, like the Mini 10K, More Half Marathon and the Disney Princess races, may provide a safe experience that encourages more women into the sport. But is this practice a double standard? Or is it a matter of celebrating every women's right to competitive equality?

Allowing men into these races may risk spoiling the spirit and focus of these important events. But the exclusion of those who wish to compete mirrors the same conditions that integrated single gender races in the first place.

Creature of (racing) habit

Crossing the line at last year's NHP 8K

This year I'm running a few races for the forth consecutive time. One of those races is the New Hyde Park 8K that takes place tomorrow morning. Long Island, where I live, offers numerous racing events, mostly 5K's, between March and July. Every time I attend a race I'm handed fliers (or I find them on my windshield) that promote an upcoming race. But for some reason I find myself running in the same races every year.

I suppose this has something to do with the comfort of knowing what to expect from the experience. It also helps that I get to know the course a little better with each race. The NHP 8K is a nice, well organized event with a fast (if unremarkable) course. The first time I ran it, in 2009, I went out too fast and almost bonked around mile 4. Last year was a much better experience.

Running the same races, year after year, has its benefits (including the fact that it provides a way to benchmark performance), it's also fun to try new events. Last year I ran the Town of Oyster Bay and Ho Ho Holiday runs (both 5K's) for the first time. These races were worth repeating and I plan to do that this year. I'd like to try a new race this year, but I'm not sure where or when I could fit another into my schedule. After all, I'm not going to give up my Cow Harbor or Dirty Sock weekends for anything else.

Racing glory is relative to ability

Well Monday has rolled around again, and I'm pleased with my weekend's running. The progress I'm making to prepare for the LI Half Marathon is fully on track. I've been getting some interesting perspective from reading the blog of an elite runner named Jesse Armijo, from Albuquerque, NM. This runner, who competes at the top level, faces similar concerns about preparedness and training as a mid-packer like me. But for Jesse, the stakes are higher. He's a humble guy and I'm rooting for him.

Sometimes I wonder why I compete. It certainly isn't for the glory of victory. I often finish at the top of the bell curve, coming in just before the last 50% of runners in a given race. My performance really couldn't be  more average. But against my age group, I sometimes land in the top third, and that makes me happy.

Saturday's 8+ mile run was much harder than staying home and watching the news on TV. But I had to do it, because I have to be ready to run 13.1 miles on May 6. I'm not likely to finish at the front of the curve, but I sure don't want to end up in the back of the pack.

Taking the easy way out

Today's run (treadmill): 25 minutes

There was a possibility of rain this morning, so I planned for a treadmill run. It turned out to be dry and clear but I decided to stay indoors anyway. This was my first run after Sunday's race and I was looking to go easy. Sometimes the treadmill is a better choice for that type of workout, because you can set your speed and not think about it again until you're finished.

Today's workout was similar to another treadmill run I'd done last week. Instead of paying attention to distance, I ran at a moderate pace and stopped after 25 minutes. There's many conflicting reports about whether it's more beneficial to run easy or hard after a race. I'm in the easy camp, figuring that a slow but steady workout promotes blood flow which helps repair damaged leg muscles.

With Thanksgiving two days away, and four more days away from the office after that, I'm hoping to get in some longer distance running. I haven't been on the trails for weeks and I miss it. Rob's Run, a 5K race in Stillwell Woods, is happening next Sunday. I've thought about participating but I'm still not sure. That would be my third race in as many weekends. There are people I've met, like Paul, who race far more often than I do. Perhaps, if I competed more, I'd break out of my mid-pack malaise. I'll have to see how I feel by the end of the week.

My definition of victory

Victorious

Today's workout (elliptical): 25 minutes

I had lunch yesterday with one of my running mentors, a man who has competed for decades. I told him about Saturday's race and we laughed about my sprint to the end, where I beat out another runner by a second. That made me think about why I race and what I expect from the experience.

I know that there are many runners who line up at the start of a race expecting to win, or to place high in their age division. I know a few of those people, some of whom read this blog. I admire and envy them but I know that I'm never going to be a front of pack finisher. I'm not conceding that I'll never have another age-place win, but I usually come in right in the middle of overall finish order.

Despite the fact that I'm barely competitive in my own age category, I do get a lot out of competition. Every time I pass a person in a race, I feel like a real competitor. This past weekend, when I held my own on the hills while many started walking halfway up, I felt like my training had paid off. And yes, as I sprinted toward the finish and held off a young runner who may have thought he'd blow right by me, I felt like I'd won my own mini race.

I've often thought about racing while out on a training run and tried to imagine other people around me, pulling me along. That never resulted in a noticeably faster performance and I think that's because only real competition brings out the best in us. There are few things in life that feel better than crossing the line to see that you've beaten your targeted finish time. I don't worry about those who finished long before me in races, because I define victory many different ways.

Race report: 2011 Dirty Sock 10K

Third time's the charm

Today's run (Babylon Village Classic - Dirty Sock 10K): 6.2 miles (net time 58:26)

Sometimes we anticipate a difficult race experience and hope that we're overestimating the challenge. We do everything we can to mitigate the pain and enhance our performance. That doesn't necessarily make the experience any easier, but in the end the pain is usually forgotten. Not entirely, but enough to make you decide to do it all again.

Today's Dirty Sock 10K was exactly like that for me. It was my third consecutive time running this race and for the third time I wondered, in the end, if I will ever do it again. The course is straightforward, an out-and-back 6.2 mile run, mostly on dirt trails. The heat and humidity determine the level of difficulty and the last mile (for me) is always the hardest part.

Team Emerging Runner arrived a little later than usual but I had plenty of time to collect my race bib, along with my race tee (an attractive faded blue this year) and the requisite pair of socks. When we walked into the registration area I saw a rock band on the stage and that made me and my daughter smile. It was a nice moment and we felt we were at an event. I caught up with Dave who was there with his wife and we all hung out until we were called to the line around 10 minutes before the start.

By now I recognize many people who compete in local races and it's a nicely familiar experience when we congregate behind the faster runners. The trails are wide, but with about 500 people at the start, the runners are pretty crammed together. Soon the horn sounded (oddly it sounded like a ship's whistle) and we moved en masse, somewhat slowly, until the crowd began to break up.

I ran the first mile in 8:46, which was good, considering my initial slow start due to congestion. I knew I couldn't sustain that pace and it was obvious that I was running with a faster crowd when they began to gain ground on me. My buddy Dave, who did very well today, had moved ahead and I soon lost sight of him. I tried to use the runners ahead of me as pacers but, by mile two, I began to feel like I was going to have some trouble getting through the entire distance at a competitive pace.

Dave (left) and me post race

Usually I see the winning runner coming back in the other direction around the 2.75 mile mark, but not today. I'd hoped that meant that I was running better than prior years, because that meant the eventual winner would still be circling the lake. Soon I was on the path around Belmont Lake and it felt hard. I was frustrated by the number of people who had passed me, but I knew I was leaving nothing on the course.

Psychologically, I was pleased by how quickly I lapped the lake and passing under the bridge meant that I had less than halfway to go. I continued to get passed and wondered whether I'd finish last. After the race Dave pointed out that we'd started somewhat close to the line so it made sense that faster runners would make their way past me. For the record, I finished where I usually do, right in the middle of the pack.

I did begin to pass some runners as I made my way between miles 4 and 5 and I took water every time it was offered. I also took sips from my hand bottle that was filled with electrolyte mix. Mile 5 finally came and I prepared for the worst and maintained the best pace that I could. Soon we were following the path along Southards Pond. When we turned right I knew we were about a kilometer from the end, perhaps the longest thousand meters I run every year.

Dave and I ran this course last weekend, so I was familiar with some of the features on this section of trail. When I saw the first foot bridge I knew I'd soon see the clearing and then the finish line. I came around the corner and gave my final push, crossing the line over a minute faster than last year. The race announcer even pronounced my last name correctly.

Team Emerging Runner was waiting for me at the finish line and I grabbed some water and drank the rest of my electrolyte mix. I saw Dave and his wife and found out that he finished about a minute and a half before me. He had told me that he planned to go faster than in 2010 and he was right!

Me with Beth and Paul, after the race

I found Paul, who I had met at the NHP 8K race, and his wife Beth. They both ran today's race and did well. Paul's very fast, he came in more than 10 minutes ahead of me. I mentioned to both Dave and Paul that I didn't think I was going to run Cow Harbor but I was overruled. The pain of today's run has faded to the point where I'm prepared to sign up for the race.

Well another Dirty Sock is on the books and I'm happy to have bettered my previous times. More importantly, I fought off fatigue and pain but I still maintained my targeted race pace. I guess I'd better get started on my Cow Harbor training. Preparation will be the key and I'll try not to think about the pain.

Making plans for summer racing

It looks like we'll be experiencing hot temperatures and daily thunderstorms this week. I'm resting today for the first time since last Tuesday. If the skies remain clear we may head over to Bethpage State Park to ride bikes. It's been a few weeks since I've done a 7+ mile run so perhaps that will be a goal for Wednesday or Thursday.

I'm still on the fence whether I'll race in July. I've never competed in July, mostly because it's such a hot month and there aren't any essential races. I'll look again at the LI race schedule to see if there's anything that seems fun. If not, perhaps July will be dedicated to training for the heat, humidity and seemingly infinite last mile of August's Dirty Sock 10K.

Will rest and core work beat heat and humidity?

Why is it that on the Friday before a race the conditions in the city have to be so perfect? 57° with 45% humidity is ideal but I won't be running in Central Park today (or anywhere else). While I'm sure that running hard the day before a race probably affects my performance on race day, I'm not convinced an extra day's rest helps all that much. I took two rest days before the 2010 Dirty Sock and still struggled mightily at the end. The Great Cow Harbor 10K was a rough ride even though I followed my two day rest policy. However, both of those races occurred on days that were extremely hot and humid and perhaps those factors trumped the benefits of resting.

The two best races that I ran in 2010 were the Hope for the Warriors 10K and the Long Beach Turkey Trot 10K. These races were run in cooler temperatures than the Dirty Sock and Cow Harbor 10K's. In both cases I rested two days before and did a 20 minute core workout the day before each race. I won't fool myself into thinking the core exercise made the difference but it may have helped. Weather predictions for Sunday are showing high 50's to low 60's with relatively high humidity and possible thunderstorms. I can't control the weather but I can control my training, so I'll do my core workout and leave the rest to nature.

2011 LI Half Marathon race report

Minutes before the start

Today's run (LI Half Marathon): 13.1 miles (10:50/mile)

Today's race was a new experience for me in two ways. It was my first half marathon and the longest distance I've ever run. My performance was nowhere as good as I'd hoped it would be, with an overall pace of 10:50, but I don't really care about that. I expected to do better because I thought I'd done all the right things to prepare. I didn't run for the seven days prior to the event, followed my hydration and fueling plan to the letter, started slowly to reserve energy and worked to maintain good running form. But the results speak for themselves.

My greatest concern for today's race was whether my knee had recovered from my last long base run. I'd definitely hurt something on that 8.25 mile run and, even this morning, it was still a little sore.  My knee became a problem about a third of the way in. I'll get to that later.

I arrived early (6:30 AM) but Lot 6 in Eisenhower Park was already halfway filled up. I wore some layers over my race shirt to stay comfortable prior to the race which I stowed in a backpack at the starting point. UPS nicely provided bag transport to the finish line. I brought electrolyte drink in my hand bottle and added some extra salt. I didn't want to use that before the start but I couldn't find any water and I felt dry. Rather than keep searching for water, I got into the very long line for the Port-a-potty's. This is often an issue at races. It seems like everyone queues up behind a group of them but a few never seem to be used. It wouldn't be a popular job but race organizers could do better by managing the bathroom lines and resources. As a result, there were dozens of runners who took it upon themselves to use the fields that paralleled the starting area for relief (below).

Open sourced bathrooms

The race started on time. I brought my iPhone with me and used MotionX GPS because it has a feature that sends emails every 5 mins with a map and your current position. My wife and kids couldn't join me today but they were able to follow my progress this way. I also had my Garmin and I hit "start" as I stepped on the mat at the starting line. The Garmin's distance calibration was really off but the stopwatch feature was accurate. I followed the crowd, taking the first three miles in just over 30 minutes (actual). The crowd kept things tight but it was close to where I wanted to be at that point. I felt good.

I hadn't realized that the course wound back around Nassau Coliseum so I was puzzled to find us going opposite to the direction I'd expected. Before long we spilled out to Merrick Ave. which borders Eisenhower Park to the west. All was going well until I reached Old Country Road and turned right. My knee, which had felt perfect from the start, began to protest. The pains were sharp and I worried that, with nine miles left to go, I could be doing real damage to my knee. I considered dropping out but I slowed down and the pain was reduced to the point where I felt I could continue. I continued to moderate my pace to ensure that I wasn't doing damage.

We ran through downtown Westbury and it was fun to to see it by foot since I'm usually driving it. They've done a nice job revitalizing the storefronts. I had taken a GU Roctane 30 mins before the start and planned to take another gel at 5 miles so I consumed a GU Expresso Love just before we reached Jericho Turnpike. Along the way I'd been taking sips of the electrolyte mix and grabbing water at every station. I think this combination of fuel and liquids helped me most of the way.

I wasn't running fast but I never stopped throughout the entire race. My heart rate was where it should have been and that's another reason why I'm puzzled by my slow pace. I think I did fairly well for the first 10 miles but the last three were very difficult. The segment that we ran on Jericho went well enough and I was glad to turn onto Brush Hollow Rd. because I had fooled myself into thinking the hard part was over by then. We made our way up the on-ramp to Wantagh Parkway which was a tough hill at that point. We followed that highway for about a mile and a quarter and hit another hill before breaking off Old Country Road where the full marathoner's split off to follow their route.

We quickly turned on Carmen Avenue which represented the 10 mile point but less than a mile later I saw the 24 mile marker for the full marathoners and (in my race fog) deduced we were suddenly at mile 12. In fact it was mile 11. At this point I was fading and all the gels, electrolyte fluid and water stops were not helping me the way they had previously. We entered Eisenhower Park 1/4 mile before the real mile 12 and my calves started cramping painfully. I thought for a moment about stopping and decided "not now, not ever." There's nothing wrong with walking in sections but I didn't want to do that because I feared it would drop my heart rate and make it all the harder to resume.

My friend Brian had warned me that the 2+ mile run through Eisenhower Park would seem long and he was right. OMG it took forever to get to the finish line and the last mile felt like running in peanut butter. I kept telling myself "just go, just keep going" and eventually I reached the winding safety cone path that led to the finish line. My heart sank when I saw my finish time. I was hoping to beat 2:06 but I was nowhere near that time.

Oh, this? It's nothing really.

But I finished! I was fairly disoriented as I walked along the post-chute pathway, following those who had finished right before me. I must have looked bad because a race volunteer came over and said "are you alright?" I said yes but I wish she had given me some water. Our line wound past volunteers handing out finisher medals (my first ever BTW)  and into a tent where they handed out string backpack race bags containing fruit and a bagel. I explored the Finish Line Festival but was anxious to return home to see my family. I called my wife and she and the kids were hooting it up, congratulating me. They had just seen me cross the line minutes before on the latest MotionX update. Seconds later the iPhone died due to the GPS drain. Perfect timing.

I got home and was greeted with excitement by my wife and kids. The kids made me great cards commemorating the achievement. I noticed that on my pre-race "To Do" and checklist that my wife had added "Run 13.1 miles" and it was checked off. It was an amazing morning and a new and exciting experience. Will I run another half marathon? Possibly, some day. I have to forget how hard this one was before I do that. Will I ever run a full 26.2? I just can't imagine it!

Tomorrow I earn the shirt

Do the clothes make the man?

My friend Brian, who has run his share of races, sent me a note regarding tomorrow's half marathon. He said: "Remember to Take in the Moment. 1/4 or 1/2 way through the run you'll be saying to yourself...."I'm really doing this."

I thought that was a really good perspective. I've run many races at this point but a half marathon represents important new ground. I'll admit that I liked collecting my race number last night at the Expo and receiving the dark orange technical race shirt that the marathoners and half marathoners get. But picking up the racing shirt is one thing, earning it on the race course is another. It was a nice surprise to also receive an LI Marathon racing hat and some excellent running socks.

Tomorrow morning I'll line up to run my longest distance to date. That means that once the gun sounds I'll spend the next two-plus hours racing along a 13.1 mile course. By now I've thought through my pacing strategy, my race day hydration, nutrition plan and fueling. My knee feels much better than it did a week ago but it's still a little tender. I finally feel ready to take this on. At least as ready as I can be. After six weeks of training, with a focus on building my base, I'll face my biggest racing challenge yet. You only get one first experience at every distance. I will definitely follow Brian's advice tomorrow and take in the moment as often as I can.

Thoughts on my race day performance

It's easy to dismiss a 5K as an easy race. The distance of 3.1 miles is only 20% longer than my average weekday run. But yesterday's race was far more challenging than my standard 4:00 AM run. For one thing, I'm not performance focused at that hour and hardly ever break 9:00 per mile during the week. I might get there near the end but these morning runs are more about movement and maintenance. A 5K is about speed.

It had  been eleven days since I donated a pint of blood at work and I'm wondering if that was still affecting me as I raced along the course. I made some mistakes in my preparation -- I probably ingested too much caffeine and not enough water -- but I didn't suffer from oxygen debt throughout the race. My energy level was good but not optimal. There was a point in the race where I was moving along, probably at around an 8:20 pace, and a small group of runners passed me together. I thought at that moment "Why are they moving faster than me?" My legs were cranking but my cadence was probably slower. I tried to increase turnover but it didn't make much of a difference.

I'm sure that if I had done speed work in the last month I'd have been more competitive on Sunday. My focus on base runs surely helped me because I felt solid even though I was running at paces that were close to a minute faster than on my training runs. Overall, I managed to beat 71% of those in my age division and 66% of the field so even on the day after the race I'm still pleased with my performance.

Breaking the rules on race day?

Mirage, Kinvara, Fast 2 - decisions, decisions

I really want to go for a run today but one must rest before race day. I cheated a little this morning and put on my Karhu Fast 2's that AG and I are reviewing on Runner's Tech Review. I wanted to reinforce my impressions by doing a few fast strides on the treadmill. We'll be posting the review next week and I wanted one final impression. I also wanted to compare the shoe with the new Saucony Mirages. I'll reserve comment on the Karhu's for now.

I couldn't resist following my Karhu sprint with a similar session with the Mirages. I think I'm in love. While I appreciated the feel of the Mirages out of the box it wasn't until I stepped on the treadmill and hit the 8 MPH button that I totally understood what Saucony did with the design of these shoes. I love the Kinvaras but the Mirage is an improvement on that platform. I'll stop the effusive praise for now as I still haven't put the shoe to pavement, but I'm feeling optimistic about its potential.

This morning's experience has me rethinking which shoe I should wear on race day. On one hand, it would be a great opportunity to try the Karhu's in competition and determine if the Fast 2 lives up to its name.  I've assumed to this point that I'd wear the venerable Kinvaras that I consider the finest running shoes I've ever worn. Despite the unwritten rule that you should never compete in new shoes I'm seriously tempted to race the Marie Mazzola 5K in the Mirages. It's a short enough distance that it probably doesn't matter. Smart money is on the Mirages but we'll see what makes sense tomorrow morning.

Finally - I'm rooting for my friend FS who is racing tomorrow morning in the NYRR Scotland 10K in Central Park. With luck we'll both have decent weather as we line up for our respective starts.

Ready for Marcie again

A good weekend of running was capped off by an evening of fierce winds and rain that knocked out power to our house. The bleeping sounds from our house alarm and UPS power unit got me up and interrupted my very much needed sleep. I woke up tired but happy to remember that Mondays are rest days. After covering 12 miles over the weekend I am feeling optimistic about my training for the big race. Before the half marathon I'm planning to run (for the third time) the Marcie Mazzola Foundation race in April. This used to be a 4 mile race but last year it was switched to a 5K to make it more appealing to participants.

The Marcie Mazzola 4 miler was my first race since I'd restarted my running in 2008. I ran it in 2009 and learned much of my competitive strategy that day. Most races have their iconic characteristic and, for this race, it's the hill on Woodhull Rd. that goes on for almost half a mile near the beginning of the race. This hill is not as steep as Cow Harbor's James St. but attacking it too hard can have a negative effect on your stamina. Like last year, I'll take it easy and spend my energy later.

I'm looking forward to next weekend's long runs, unencumbered by snow and ice. But, with the weather this year, I don't know if I can fully count on that.

Finding your rivals

Not all races are listed but it's still a good resource

Today's workout (elliptical): 30 minutes

Happy President's Day. I like long weekends, especially those that extend through the entire week. My kids are off from school so I'm taking the week off as well. Unlike many of the people we know we're not heading off to warmer climates this week. There's plenty to do here, like shoveling three inches of snow of the driveway this morning.

This morning I was playing around on a site called Athlinks that aggregates races in a database and allows participants to "claim" their events. Once done, a runner has a collection of their race results and the usual social networking tools (profile, pictures, Twitter feed, etc.) for sharing or member interaction. Those features are common now but Athlinks also provides a list of your rivals and how you've performed against them. Athlinks automatically finds runners who have raced against you and lists their age, gender and won-lost record. It was interesting to see someone I've beat 7 times (he's 78) and a couple of others who have trounced me 5-0.

Those who have beat me multiple times have usually outpaced me by one or more minutes per mile. I'll likely lose to them in future match-ups. The interesting comparisons are those where I've both won and lost to the same person. Those people are truly rivals and it's about our readiness on race day and how well we leverage or react to race day conditions. I still prefer to view racing as "me versus myself" and I don't really view these people as rivals. These race day match-ups are more like benchmarks that will help me understand how close I came to reaching my potential.

Race shirts: The good, the bad & the very ugly

One of Brian's ugly shirts that isn't already in the rag bin

Today's run (street): 3.3 miles (9:05 pace)

The Snowflake Run race shirt

Recently my running buddy Brian mentioned ugly race t-shirts and he sent me a photo as an example. I've compiled well over a dozen race shirts in the last couple of years and many of them would clearly fit into the ugly category. This weekend I received my latest shirt for the Long Beach Snowflake Run and was pleased to see it was attractive enough to wear in public. My wife loves snowflakes and cozy long sleeved shirts so I expect that it will soon become hers. 

Good memories sometimes make up for wacky design

The other Long Beach race shirt I have is from last November's Turkey Trot. It's not a great looking shirt but it's fun and also long sleeved. I PR'd in that race so I enjoy wearing it.

I guess flesh-colored was the new black in 2009

 I participated on a Cape Cod marathon relay team in October of 2009 and the race shirts were very close-fitting technical long sleeved shirts. The front is about as ugly a design as I've seen (plus Duncan Donuts and running are a strange combination) but the back has a cool lighthouse. It's actually a good between-seasons running shirt and I especially like wearing it on trails.

Clean design and functional - I earned this one

The first race I ran in 2010 was in March, less than two months after my stay in the hospital for pneumonia. The race in Stillwell Woods was challenging and my successful run told me that I was back and fully recovered. We got technical racing shirts and I am proud to wear mine outside my home. As a wicking shirt it's just okay, but it will certainly do in a pinch.

Subtlety was not the theme in 2009

The 2010 New Hyde Park 8K shirt was a decent design, but the year before it was an explosion of red, white, blue and yellow. The back was no cleaner though it wasn't as garish as the front. Kudos to the organizers for making a change for the better last year.

The Dirty Sock design - not all that it's quacked up to be

In my opinion the Ugly Duckling Award goes to the race shirt that actually has a duck on it. The Dirty Sock Run is a great event and the organizers always give out both a t-shirt and a pair of socks printed with the words "Dirty Sock Run." I love the socks (although my son immediately commandeers them) but the shirts are not attractive.  The shirt color from the last Dirty Sock 10K is a strange blend of muddy brown and magenta. The front is blank and the back has a graphic of the event's logo -- a duck on the water. The prior year's shirt was not much better - pea soup green instead of muddy brown with the logo on the front. 

Actually, I love all my race tees no matter how they look. Each one reminds me of a special time and the accomplishment of participation.  Still, if a race organizer has the choice of making a shirt more attractive, it would be time well spent to do that!

Relays and races

Last Sunday's Newsday carried a story about a team of runners that participated in the annual Ocean to Sound Relay that's held each year on Long Island. The course is 50 miles in length, starts at Jones Beach State Park and ends at the Sound in Oyster Bay. Each leg of the race is between 5-7 miles. I ran my last long training run for Cow Harbor at Bethpage State Park the same day of this year's race and encountered numerous relay runners who were coming through at that time. It reminded me that my experience running with a relay team in happened almost a year ago. It was the Cape Cod Marathon Relay in Falmouth, MA and our intrepid team of four (actually three as one member had contracted H1N1 virus) covered the 26.2 mile course. It was the longest distance I'd ever run in a day, 9 miles, with AG leading the charge by running 11 miles straight through. It was a great weekend and a very fun experience and I hope to participate in another relay of that type someday. I'm considering fielding a team for next year's Ocean to Sound race. It might be a great training exercise for the 2011 Cow Harbor race that's run the following weekend.

In the spirit of running two races on consecutive weekends, Dave and I are looking to run a 10K in Babylon on November 14 (Run for the Warriors) and then race in the Turkey Trot in Long Beach the following Sunday. It's really great to have a race on the calendar because it gives you something to train for. I love the whole race experience, the nervous energy before the start, the race itself and the great feeling of completeing another test of one's capabilities at the finish. I don't always like how I've performed but I've never finished a race and felt my time would have been better spent doing anything else. I'm planning another midday run in Central Park today. I'm hoping that the weather holds and that the rain that's been predicted doesn't show up at noon.

Reflections on my first race

My daughter has her first cross country meet today. She's a bit apprehensive about it. I understand that completely, recalling how I was both excited and nervous about my first race. It was the Marcie Mazzola Memorial, a 4 miler held on April 19, 2009. Although I had read a lot about racing prior to the event I didn't know how things would look or feel when I was a participant. How soon before the start does one line up? Is the front of the line reserved for the fastest runners? Do you talk to other racers while waiting for the gun? What if I finish last?

I remember being confounded by the water station. How do you drink water while you're running? Should I even take water for a short race that's happening on a cool spring morning? I was confused by the others on the road with me, some flying by and others well off to the side, practically walking. I do remember thinking, "Should I be passing people so early in the race?"

By the time I'd reached the other side of Main Street I had figured out most of my questions. The large hill that one encounters soon after the start of this race had taken a lot out of me and I was concerned that I'd have enough energy for a big finish. Even though I came upon another hill at the end I managed to push hard enough to finish with a decent time. I had my first experience crossing the line and seeing my family cheering at the side. I must have liked that because I've run ten more races since then. My daughter will experience the same anxiety that I did, followed by the exhilaration that comes from finishing a race. I said to her the same thing I've said to many others, "You only have one first race. Pay attention to every detail."

Why race if you're not gonna win?

Well this is it -- race week. Five days to the start of the Great Cow Harbor 10K. I don't know what it is about this race that fascinates me but I've thought a lot about it since I signed up in August. Racing is a curious thing. Unless you are very fast, the chances of placing overall, or even in your age group, is statistically very low. So if it's not about winning, why do we race? The easy answer is because it's inexpensive fun. You register for a event and you have weeks to enjoy the anticipation. It's all upside until you reach that inevitable part of a race where you are pushing to your limits and questioning your decision to enter in the first place. No matter what, once you cross the finish line everything is fine and the pain is forgotten. Bananas and bagels never tasted so good, water was never so refreshing. Even Gatorade is palatable. I'm sure there are aspects of racing that tie into our natural instinct to compete, although most recreational runners are really competing with themselves. I honestly hope BJS and Dave do great even if that means beating my own time. I'm not just saying that because it's likely that they will.

I was going to do a hard run with a friend at lunchtime but my schedule won't allow it. I'll need to defer that to October. It's just as well on this taper week that I don't push as hard as I normally might. Saturday and Sunday were both great and different workouts. I guess I'll take a page from the quote of the week and savor the rest. My friend FS ran the 18 mile pre-marathon tuneup yesterday in Central Park. She was remarkably unfazed when I saw her this morning. Three times around the park means three times over the Harlem Hills. No matter what I've put myself through of late it won't touch that effort. I'm looking forward to my run tomorrow with JQ. The weather should be cooler than today with less wind. I think we'll keep the pace moderate but the hills on the lower and upper loops will keep it interesting. Today I'll just enjoy my rest.