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.