Long race = long recap

I spent Saturday night in that semi-conscious stage of being half-awake and half-asleep. Every couple of hours, I would lean forward and look at the clock, then calculate in my head how many hours of sleep I would get if I fell asleep at that very moment. Of course, that only makes it worse. It’s classic insomnia. You can’t sleep because you are too busy worrying about not being able to sleep. I had spent all day Saturday slightly nervous about the half marathon, but when I got into bed and all the distractions were gone, I started to panic. What if I hadn’t run enough hard tempos? What if I ran too many miles last week? I had only run two races in 2012, and the longest one was four miles. This was 13.1! I thought about my last half-marathon which was a disaster. Before I knew it, it was 5:30am.

I got up, downed a banana, an English muffin with peanut butter and a glass of water. Then, I laced up my shoes, and headed out the door to run to Central Park. Over a delicious pasta dinner the night before, Lauren and I had determined that the best way to go about getting to the race was for me to go on foot and for her to take the trains with my bag. Since the corrals closed 30 minutes before the race went off, my options for a warm up were limited. The three mile trip to the park would have to do. Then, I’d have to stand still for a half-an-hour. Lauren and I met at 6:45 as planned. I changed into my flats, put on my singlet, rubbed on some Body Glide and then went to the entrance to the corral which is actually on the opposite side of the park from the actual corral.

I got to the corral just before 7:00am and immediately ran into Val Matena who had travelled up from Charlotte. She pointed me in the direction of her husband Dan who would be starting near me. On the line, I passed the time calming nerves by talking with Dan, and two friends from the Front Runners team, Thomas and Josh. We watched the elites warm up, envious of their ability to get in striders and then listened to the starting line announcer introducer Kara Goucher by pronouncing her name wrong. (Seriously!?!)

When the horn finally went off, there was a bit of bottle-necking up front and then we were off. About 300 meters into the race, my Urban Athletics teammate, Jason, jumped in to click off some miles with me. I ran past Charlotte’s Alana Hadley and Stephanie Pezzullo and wished them luck and then started executing my race plan. The first 10k of the course is a full lap around Central Park. It is much more challenging than the second half of the course, but the race is made in the first half. In my head, I knew I had to be out of the park between 33 and 34 minutes to have a shot at my goal which was 1:12 or faster.

About ½ mile into the park, Jason and I settled in with Olympic marathoner Desiree Davila who was running a comfortable pace. The added bonus was that Desi’s fame meant a lot of people were cheering for her, so I was happy to benefit from some of that positive energy. We went back and forth with me leading on the hills and her coming back when the course descended or flattened out. There was a huge sense of relief after conquering the Harlem Hills because even though it was early in the race, it was the part I feared the most. We hit the 5K in 16:40. Right on target.

Coming back to the starting area, it was amazing how many people weren’t even close to beginning their race when we were nearly 6 miles in. The huge crowd of runners was super supportive, giving us the loudest cheers we’d heard so far. Again, it didn’t hurt that I was right near Desi who everyone recognized. Leaving the park, I saw and heard Lauren cheering which gave me a little boost as we crossed the 10k in 33:31 (which is a three second PR).

As I mentioned, the park is the hard part. Once the course goes onto 7^th Avenue, it flattens out. The problem is, you’ve trashed your legs on the hills. As we headed toward Times Square, I was temporarily distracted by the site of one of the world’s most famous places completely shut down to traffic. Have you seen Vanilla Sky? It was sort of like that. There was supposed to be bands lining this stretch of the course, but most were still setting up when we went by. I took my first sip of water before heading toward the West Side Highway.

Miles 8 and 9 were the hardest points of the race for me. I had been holding 5:20-5:30 pace the entire time, but with 5 miles still in front of me, I started to think about how much was left and briefly doubted my ability to hang on. Ahead of me, the West Side Highway looked endless. Fortunately, around this time, Jason and I joined in with a solid pack. I decided to settle in the middle and let them carry me while I regained my confidence and strength. We went through the 15k together in 50:27, a 50 second PR.

Now, I was doing the math in my head. If I could run the last 3.8 miles in 22 minutes, I would hit my goal. I was feeling good again, still clicking off 5:28-5:30 and coming into the home stretch. Miles 10 and 11 were uneventful and by mile 12, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel…literally. Mile 12 is almost entirely in a tunnel. My Garmin lost its signal, the crowd noise disappeared and all you could hear was the sound of flats hitting the asphalt. Knowing that I could hang on for a mile no matter what happened, I moved to the front of the pack and took control of the race. Around this point, Jason bailed, although much later than planned, and I was solo carrying the Urban Athletics colors. We passed the 20K in 1:07:36 and I knew I could run 8/10^ths of a mile in 4:24. The goal was going to happen.

Exiting the tunnel we climbed the last hill of the course and passed the "800 meters to go" sign. I could hear the screaming crowd. We turned on to Water Street and I could see the clock. 200 meters to go and I was not only going to break 1:12, I was going to shatter it. The adrenaline rush accelerated me over the line and I did no fewer than three fist pumps when I saw my finishing time was 1:11:19. I thanked Desi for allowing me to steal some of her fans and high-fived Meb Keflezighi who remembered me from an interview we did in the park on Thursday. Granted, this was only my third half-marathon and the two previous had included a solo victory in Charlotte and a humid, tired disaster in Jersey City, but it was still a 4 plus minute personal best and more importantly, a huge confidence booster and indicator of my fitness.

But fitness only gets you so far. I had the benefit of running in one of the largest half-marathons in the world surrounded by some of the best runners in the world. I have an incredibly talented teammate (who has a 1:07 under his belt) who kept me sane and steady. I have a coach who not only has given me workouts that work, but also is more confident in my ability than I am. I have a team that holds me accountable on every run. I heard Desi say it on the pre-race show, “you can’t cheat at running. You can only cheat yourself.” I have friends like Tara and Heidi who came out on the course to cheer me on in multiple locations. Most importantly, I have a wife who comes to every race to carry my bag and cheer for me at every point she can. During this particular race, she had to mow down an old lady just to get to the finish. But her support extends far beyond race day. She waits for me to eat dinner when I am out running until 9pm. She deals with my alarm when it goes off before 4am. If that’s not love, well…

Three races in 2012. Three PRs. But they mean nothing if I don’t nail the next one in Boston. Back to work.

Race Stats:

Time: 1:11:19

Pace: 5:26

Runners: 15,331

Place: 59th

Age Group: 23rd

Age Grade: 83.05%

Weather: 47 degrees, 90% humidity, 3mph wind

Thoughts on Tying the Knot and Cutting Ties

Every wedding has a horror story. Leading up to my own nuptials, I heard everyone else’s. Perhaps over the years, they’d become embellished, but they all served as little hiccups in an otherwise perfect day. That’s why, as my wedding day approached, I waited for something to go terribly wrong and leave Lauren and I scrambling at the last minute. Would the restaurant we chose for our rehearsal dinner lose power, ruining all the food? Would our priest come down with dysentery, leaving him unable to perform the ceremony? Perhaps our caterer got the wrong day, or my parents’ flight would be cancelled. The eve of the wedding came and went with everything running smoothly. The rehearsal was easy. The dinner was fantastic. Some of our guests were delayed by a traffic jam on 95 somewhere between Washington and Charlotte, but everyone made it in time for the food to be served and the wine to be poured. There were speeches that made me feel as if I were at a roast. The perfect mixture of laughter and tears.

Saturday morning, I set out on 16+ mile run with a group of nearly 30 people. I watched every step, looking for errant twigs, branches and trash bags. No open wounds, or worse yet, broken bones for me! The hours between the run and the ceremony were filled with a delicious brunch, a stop to pick up the kegs, a brief shopping spree at Jos. A Bank and most importantly, a nap. I was at the church in time for pictures, and despite the humidity, it was a beautiful day. Of course, Lauren looked stunning in her dress, which I saw for the first time when I walked into the courtyard for our photos together.

At one point, I imagined a paralyzing nervousness would overcome me. Aaron said it could happen when I walked into the church for the first time and saw all the people staring at me. But, it never happened. I remained as cool as the other side of the pillow for the entire ceremony. I guess that’s one side effect of extreme confidence. The music was perfect, the sermon was perfect and Lauren said, “I will.” With the exception of jumping the gun on the kiss, the hard part of getting hitched went off without a hitch.

Our reception was the perfect party. It was a low-key Carolina Barbecue feast with local beer, good wine, delicious desserts and our best friends and closest family members. Lauren’s dad made the room in the church look like a bonafide banquet hall. The DJ didn’t play anything on my “Do Not Play List” (Nickleback, Nikki Minaj, etc.) and did play “Bye, Bye, Bye”, “Ride Wit Me”, and “New York, New York”…ya know, wedding classics. There was a champagne shower, heartfelt speeches and a photo memory book that will last a lifetime. There were so many friends we would have loved to have invited to share the occasion with us, but it just wasn’t possible. If we had invited our entire fantasy guest list we would have needed a bigger church and a bigger budget.

Our mini-moon was…wait for it…perfect. Farrell and Steve let us use their cabin in Ashe County for a few days. The entire time we were there it poured, allowing us to do absolutely nothing for a solid 48 hours. Until you have planned and executed a wedding, you have no idea how draining it is. And this, coming from me who did about 25% of the work to Lauren’s 75%. We were both totally wiped out. Neither of us stayed awake past 10pm and we slept both until at least 8. I managed to get some light running in, although, I didn’t push it on the hilly terrain and I had to stop and walk for territorial dogs. We ate like royalty. On the first night, we made a pasta primavera with hot Italian sausage. The second night, I grilled steaks (burning them a bit), while Lauren made asparagus and roasted sweet potatoes. It was a short, but sweet trip.

Now, we’re back in the big city. Our wedding marks not only the beginning of our life together, but the official end to our time in Charlotte. True, I’ve been in New York since June 18th, but with Lauren there, it felt like I had one foot in each city. Now, both feet are firmly planted in Manhattan. I plan to submerse myself in the community, the culture and the job here just like I did in Charlotte. I’ve already dove headfirst into my new position at ABC. I’m on a competitive running team sponsored by a local store and Adidas and a member of the New York Road Runners. I am getting to know people in our very unique neighborhood nestled in the heart of eclectic Chelsea. We are going to be here for at least three years and now that Lauren has joined me here, we are well on our way to planting roots and making this our home.

We will never have what we had in Charlotte, but we hope to have an experience that is equally as rewarding and life-changing. That said, I’d be lying if I said a part of me won’t stay in Charlotte. In the past, I’ve picked up and left town never to be heard from again. College. Syracuse to some extent. That’s all well and great for a while because it’s easy to vanish, but in the end, I’ve ended up regretting not making the minimal effort to stay in touch with people who were integral parts of my life. On my fifth major move of my life, it’s time to try a different approach. I won’t cut ties with Charlotte, I’ll just loosen them. For my sanity and the sanity of others, I will be a silent, paying member of the running club. But, I’ll keep in contact and follow the successes, trials, tribulations and major life events of my closest friends. For them, I want to remain no farther than a phone call away. Who knows what the future holds? It’s a cliché’, but it is so because it is true. Lauren and I love Charlotte, and after three years in the middle of Manhattan, we will find ourselves at another crossroads. Going back is not unrealistic. It is as much of a possibility as anything else. We have talked about settling down there because of its location, it’s climate and most importantly, its people.

Look, I don’t know where “home” is yet. I know where it is for now. I know who it is with. We have the rest of our lives to figure out the rest.

Small Town Race in the Big City

Although I raced a 5K in Prospect Park last week, this weekend's Sgt. Keith Anderson Brooklyn Bridge 5K was the first race I signed up for after moving to New York City. The race was appealing for a number of reasons. First and foremost, my training plan had me racing this weekend anyways. It was designed when I had the Blue Points 5K in Charlotte on my schedule. Secondly, as a tourist masquerading as a local, this was a good way to explore the Brooklyn Bridge and blend in with the city folk. The course is over the Brooklyn Bridge from Manhattan to Brooklyn and back. Good way to check that landmark off the list. And third, it's the same weekend as the New York Road Runners Club Championship race in Central Park, which I wasn't eligible to run in and the Nautica New York City Triathlon which I had no desire to compete in (Swimming is bad enough, but swimming in the Hudson River? I think I'll pass).

It is the third reason that gives this blog entry its title. With two other marquee events in town, this was definitely destined to be as low key as it gets for Manhattan. Even in New York, there are only so many runners to toe the line at various races...even if they do offer breathtaking views of the island. I arrived at New York City Hall Park via cab roughly 90 minutes before the start of the race. Although, I was pretty certain it would be a small race, I wasn't positive and wanted to give myself plenty of time. I was, however, one of the first people there. The race is put on by the NYPD in memory of an officer who collapsed and died in 2004 while chasing a suspect down the street. While the police force here is the best of the best, they are not, understandably, race directors. I had to laugh as I stretched on a park bench listening to two officers try to determine how they would operate the bag check. When one came up with the idea of handing all the runners raffle tickets to carry with them, I felt compelled to go from observer to advisor. With the dew point about 2 degrees lower than the air temperature it would be mere seconds before those tiny tickets disintegrated into something unrecognizeable. I showed the guys the tear off section of the race bib and viola...we have a bag check. They were very grateful.

I was drenched following my warm up which took me around Lower Manhattan, past Ground Zero and through the Financial District. No doubt about it, it was a sticky day. About 10 minutes before the start, everyone started to make their way toward the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. As the crowd congregated, I surveyed the possible competition and noticed that I might be on my own for this one. Even though there were about 800 people in the race, I didn't see many people in short shorts, flats and a singlet (not that they guy in basketball shorts and Asics Kayanos hasn't come out of nowhere in the past). In fact, a couple of guys came up to me and told me I would probably win. Of course, I never take anything like that for granted, and as we followed an NYPD bagpiper to the official starting line, the trim, shirtless chap next to me had me wondering if there might be some competition after all.

When the horn sounded, the other runner was matching me stride-for-stride on the uphill start. I was feeling the incline of the bridge immediately, and though it was keeping me from going out too fast, I was worried I might be doing the opposite and going out too slow. As we crested the hill, I threw in a surge and the other runner couldn't hang. From that point on, it would be me and my thoughts. I didn't see another soul as I made my way over the wooden walkway. Just after crossing over a slab of concrete that says "Welcome to Brooklyn", there is a nice downhill and then two cops waiting at the turn around. This turn around was reminiscent of the old China Grove barrel and I slowed significantly.

Going back toward Manhattan, I was running against the oncoming crowd. They were all very supportive and I tried my best to cheer for all of them while taking in the stunning view of lower Manhattan from high above the traffic on the bridge. It's a fairly narrow walkway, so I had to really do some maneuvering. Just after the mile two mark, a kid, maybe no older than 8, suddenly shifted right into my path. I didn't even have time to realize what was happening and I went down hard. I banged my knee on the bridge and scraped my hand. I was shaken, but got back up and tried to regain the time I had lost. It took a good 30 seconds to get my stride back and I temporarily had a little limp.

After that mishap, it was smooth sailing. I came off the bridge and into city hall park where the announcer called my name and lots of NYPD officers cheered. Following a three mile cool down, I got a lovely trophy and took my picture with Sgt. Ferguson's mother and a couple of detectives. I'll keep that picture in my wallet lest I ever get caught for public urination.

I am definitely satisfied with the race. Although I ran 16:26, that does include a slow up at the turn-around (because I wasn't sure it actually was the turn-around), and of course the fall. Not to mention, I ran it with no one to push me at all. The race is a good confidence builder as I ramp up for the half-marathon. I need to find a good 10k to run in between now and September 25th, but so far, nothing is popping up on the schedule.