Happy New Year! Let's run 6.2 miles on a tequila / vodka hangover. Who does that? Morons. I had not run 6 miles yet, at least not in one day, and there I was running 6.2 on a hangover. Moron. Thankfully for me, January 1st, 2011, was a freak weather moment for New England. It was 55 - 60 degrees and sunny! Off came the winter wear and on came the spring spandex. This may not paint a pretty picture for some so picture this instead... all the running hotties did the same. You just have to appreciate toned tummies and bobbing pig-tails. It's a great way to start the year.
Anyhoo...
The crowd was fun. Having never been a part of the runner's world I had always assumed it was filled with hard-core, half-crazed spandex wearing people who routinely shave the hair from every inch of the bodies, religiously worry about their body fat percentage, and don the latest aerodynamic eye-wear guaranteed to cut your pace by 10 milliseconds... and I was half correct. They were there in all their glory busying themselves with their pre-race rituals: warm-up miles, stretching regiments, pre-race snacks with the perfect carbo to protein ratio. I was with the other half: the no-core, half-awake people who routinely question if they need to shave, unceremoniously poke at their body fat, and don whatever happened to be clean and athletically-looking when they woke up. We had our own pre-race ritual: warm-up sitting, yawning regiments, and wandering aimlessly around looking for the shortest line to a porta-potty.
The weather, clearly, was fantastic. It would be unfair to even use the weather as a promotion of this race. New England in January is not warm and sunny. It is cold and unforgiving. You are not suppose to need a bikini wax before going to a New England beach in January.
The course was OK. Nothing exciting. The beach is flat so the course was, obviously, without hills.
I did learn plenty that day. First of all, there are basic rules which everyone must follow. I am not talking about the race rules: no pushing, no shoving, no cheating, no running close behind that very attracted brunette in the turquoise... etc. I am referring to the unwritten rules that all runners will learn from doing one race. (The following are in no specific order or level of importance. I was also not guilty of breaking all of these rules... not all of them.)
Rule #1: Do not spit or expel snot-rockets if you are running in the middle of the road. Please move over to the side of the road and look over your shoulder before expelling to avoid spraying other runners in mucous joy. If you do not, the runners will hate you.
Rule #2: Do not run too closely behind other runners. First of all and most obvious, you might trip them. This will make them hate you. Secondly and maybe not so obvious to some people (read: guys), it might make some of them (read: women) feel less like a competitor and more like an entrée. This will definitely make them hate you.
Rule #3: Do not under any circumstances underestimate the other runners. In no way does their body type, age, or personal appearance indicate in any way how fast and/or strong they really are! Yes, you can assume those Type-A'ers with their 3% body fat will be fast; but, you may be surprised when the dumpy mother of two catches you by the third mile and crushes your soul beneath her well-trained, no-nonsense, this-body-has-pushed-out-2-kids-without-drugs-what-has-your-body-done pace. She'll do this while hating you.
You know what wasn't good? The organizers. They were clearly still drunk from the previous night. They did not have all the miles marked. They did not get approval to have their race cross over into New Hampshire. They did not have enough water at the end. They had no snacks. They did have beer at one of the water stops... still up in the air if this was good or not.
SUMMARY
I clocked a time of 47:53 (7:43 pace). For my first 10K, I'll take it. All in all the race was not great but it was not bad. Hopefully the organizers will take the multiple hints given by the competitors and get their shit together. They won't have great weather to carrying them next year.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Half at the Hamptons Half Marathon - 2/2011
What can I say? It was February up at the beach. It was cold. Real cold. Frozen snot kind of cold. What kind of a-hole runs a half in this weather? Apparently me and about 1500 other a-holes. Instead of giving you a long-winded synopsis of the race, I will give you a long-winded play-by-play of the miles (for those of you unlearned folk, that'll be 13).
MILE 1: F*** it's cold! What the hell am I doing out here?
MILE 2: Feeling pretty good. It's not so bad out here. Feeling strong, confident. Just passed the 8:30 pacer. Suck it 8:30!
MILE 3: In my groove. Not too hot, definitely not cold. Chatting with other runners. Passing people and feelin' good. Friendly water stop. How do people drink and run at the same time? I don't think any of that went in my mouth. Passed the 8:00 and 7:30 pacer. YEAH! Suck it pacers!
MILE 4: Holding around a 7:20 pace! Not too bad for my first half, if I do say so myself. I have the strength. I have the endurance. I... have to pee. Ooooh, Port-Potty! Nice placement, Event Organizers!
MILE 5: Dammit! The 7:30 and 8:00 pacers are ahead of me. How long was I in that Porto-Potty? Crap, now I'm cold again. Did I wet myself? Dammit!
MILE 6: Dammit again! How do they drink while running? I think I moistened my lips with that one. I definitely wet myself again but at least it's water this time. On a better note: Suck it 8:00 Pacer!
MILE 7: Ok, back in the groove. Time to play a little "Catch the Bunny." (For those of you who have no idea what I am talking about, "Catch the Bunny" is simple: Anyone ahead of you is a bunny whom you must "catch" or pass. Once you catch the bunny you find a new bunny to catch, and so on, etc. The rules to this game are probably different in Hefner's house.)
MILE 8: Another water stop? Ok, not complaining. Ooooh, gels! I can do this while running. Choke... choke... gasp... gurgle. Dammit! How the hell can you swallow a frozen ball of gel pudding? Better wash it down with... Dammit!!
MILE 9: I am a complete mess. I have frozen snot on my face mingled with chocolatey streaks of Hammer Gel spittle. I am smiling. I am having fun. Weather has become a perfect day for running: cold with a gentle wind and sunny! Day is looking up! Oh, and, Suck it 7:30 Pacer!
MILE 10: If you were watching a movie this would be the time when music signaling disaster would be played. Maybe even slow motion filming. Something dramatic. ARGGHHHH! Knee pain!! Can't... run... must hobble... why God? Why??? (Picture me falling to my knees, arms held aloft, pointing to the heavens beseeching the gods to end my torment. Very moving moment. Definitely a tearjerker. Possibly Oscar-worthy. Maybe just very, very whiny.)
MILE 11: Well, my IT band (iliotibitial band) has just made my race go from fantastic to less than fantastic... maybe just -tic. I think the 7:30 Pacer just told me to suck it. Asshole.
MILE 12: Did I mention my IT band? It hurts. My knee hurts. It's preventing me from running at full strenth and stride. I have been reduced from an almost awe inspiring performance (awed that I am still running at this point... why did I take up this insane activity?) to a shadow of my heroic pace. It's like being reduced from a mighty ode to a baudy limerick; but without the naughty bits. Hey, look, there goes the 8:00 Pacer. Is she giggling? Douche.
MILE 13: At last! The finish line. I was thankfully able to take the skirt off and muster up the resolve to run. I did manage to catch the 8:00 Bunny (suck it) and pseudo-sprint to the finish line. They even announced my name as I crossed which may not be much, they were announcing many people as they came to the end, it was still very cool to a newbie-runner. Finishing time: 1:44:25.1 Pace: 7:59. My best half to date!
Summary: Great event. Well organized throughout the route. Fun people. Water stops were well placed and there was plenty of food and drinks at the end. The course is very flat and makes for a good starter half. Yes it was cold but what do you want for a New England February at the beach. I will be doing this race again in 2012. Watch yourselves Pacers. I'm coming after you... except that 6:30 Pacer... that's just psychotic.
MILE 1: F*** it's cold! What the hell am I doing out here?
MILE 2: Feeling pretty good. It's not so bad out here. Feeling strong, confident. Just passed the 8:30 pacer. Suck it 8:30!
MILE 3: In my groove. Not too hot, definitely not cold. Chatting with other runners. Passing people and feelin' good. Friendly water stop. How do people drink and run at the same time? I don't think any of that went in my mouth. Passed the 8:00 and 7:30 pacer. YEAH! Suck it pacers!
MILE 4: Holding around a 7:20 pace! Not too bad for my first half, if I do say so myself. I have the strength. I have the endurance. I... have to pee. Ooooh, Port-Potty! Nice placement, Event Organizers!
MILE 5: Dammit! The 7:30 and 8:00 pacers are ahead of me. How long was I in that Porto-Potty? Crap, now I'm cold again. Did I wet myself? Dammit!
MILE 6: Dammit again! How do they drink while running? I think I moistened my lips with that one. I definitely wet myself again but at least it's water this time. On a better note: Suck it 8:00 Pacer!
MILE 7: Ok, back in the groove. Time to play a little "Catch the Bunny." (For those of you who have no idea what I am talking about, "Catch the Bunny" is simple: Anyone ahead of you is a bunny whom you must "catch" or pass. Once you catch the bunny you find a new bunny to catch, and so on, etc. The rules to this game are probably different in Hefner's house.)
MILE 8: Another water stop? Ok, not complaining. Ooooh, gels! I can do this while running. Choke... choke... gasp... gurgle. Dammit! How the hell can you swallow a frozen ball of gel pudding? Better wash it down with... Dammit!!
MILE 9: I am a complete mess. I have frozen snot on my face mingled with chocolatey streaks of Hammer Gel spittle. I am smiling. I am having fun. Weather has become a perfect day for running: cold with a gentle wind and sunny! Day is looking up! Oh, and, Suck it 7:30 Pacer!
MILE 10: If you were watching a movie this would be the time when music signaling disaster would be played. Maybe even slow motion filming. Something dramatic. ARGGHHHH! Knee pain!! Can't... run... must hobble... why God? Why??? (Picture me falling to my knees, arms held aloft, pointing to the heavens beseeching the gods to end my torment. Very moving moment. Definitely a tearjerker. Possibly Oscar-worthy. Maybe just very, very whiny.)
MILE 11: Well, my IT band (iliotibitial band) has just made my race go from fantastic to less than fantastic... maybe just -tic. I think the 7:30 Pacer just told me to suck it. Asshole.
MILE 12: Did I mention my IT band? It hurts. My knee hurts. It's preventing me from running at full strenth and stride. I have been reduced from an almost awe inspiring performance (awed that I am still running at this point... why did I take up this insane activity?) to a shadow of my heroic pace. It's like being reduced from a mighty ode to a baudy limerick; but without the naughty bits. Hey, look, there goes the 8:00 Pacer. Is she giggling? Douche.
MILE 13: At last! The finish line. I was thankfully able to take the skirt off and muster up the resolve to run. I did manage to catch the 8:00 Bunny (suck it) and pseudo-sprint to the finish line. They even announced my name as I crossed which may not be much, they were announcing many people as they came to the end, it was still very cool to a newbie-runner. Finishing time: 1:44:25.1 Pace: 7:59. My best half to date!
Summary: Great event. Well organized throughout the route. Fun people. Water stops were well placed and there was plenty of food and drinks at the end. The course is very flat and makes for a good starter half. Yes it was cold but what do you want for a New England February at the beach. I will be doing this race again in 2012. Watch yourselves Pacers. I'm coming after you... except that 6:30 Pacer... that's just psychotic.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Addicted Much?
Do you know what the Spartan Race reminded me?
It reminded me What it is like to be a kid. Running through woods and fields, climbing stuff, and getting dirty is good. We as adults often forget that some of the greatest pleasures in life are had doing the simplest things.
Do you know what the Spartan Race taught me?
That you are never too old to be a kid, never too old to try something new, never too old or too busy to set yourself free, even only for an afternoon.
Do you know what the Spartan Race showed me?
That I, too, will troll the internet day after day like some endorphin junkie looking for my next hit. C'mon man, just give me a little 5K to tide me over. I'm good for it. You can trust me. Just gimme a little race... anything... can I climb that wall just once?.... hop over your fence?... can I jump in the Tot's 2K, will totally crush them... I... just... need... a... new... race!
Yes, I know. I need help; but, hey, we all do (you know who I'm talking to). To help curb my withdrawals I resolved to do one race a month, starting in December of 2010. Not a huge commitment but a very doable one and I could not train all the time because: A) I still need to work, be a father, and a husband, B) I have not found anyone who wants to sponsor a late 30s, Type B sudo-athlete, who will never win 1st place but will probably hit on your daughter 3) I am not independently wealthy or have a trust to fund my philanthropic pursuits, aka, me, and D) my wife would leave me for a Swedish bikini model named Alma and send me pictures of what I was missing.
Finding training time was, thankfully, easy. At work I met a group of very attractive women who enjoy running at lunch (Before anyone jumps up and down crying lech I will have you know that I have invited several guys to join our running group and all have declined. It is purely coincidental that I run with women and it is not part of my master plan to be surrounded by scantily clad spandex wearing hot chicks. I swear). I was also able to steal a few hours to run on the weekends because I have a very, VERY patient wife who deals with my inability to sit still like someone who would deal with a 2 year old: equal amounts encouragement and chastisement.
All in all getting prepped for all my races has not been an arduous task. Painful at times, maybe, but not difficult. Much love to the Working Girls (yes, I just named them that... take whatever meaning you wish from it) and my fantastic wife for keeping me out on the roads. You know what they say: "Behind every man is a great woman...
... telling him how he's doing it wrong."
(coming next: “My Brief(?) Summary of Races Gone By”)
It reminded me What it is like to be a kid. Running through woods and fields, climbing stuff, and getting dirty is good. We as adults often forget that some of the greatest pleasures in life are had doing the simplest things.
Do you know what the Spartan Race taught me?
That you are never too old to be a kid, never too old to try something new, never too old or too busy to set yourself free, even only for an afternoon.
Do you know what the Spartan Race showed me?
That I, too, will troll the internet day after day like some endorphin junkie looking for my next hit. C'mon man, just give me a little 5K to tide me over. I'm good for it. You can trust me. Just gimme a little race... anything... can I climb that wall just once?.... hop over your fence?... can I jump in the Tot's 2K, will totally crush them... I... just... need... a... new... race!
Yes, I know. I need help; but, hey, we all do (you know who I'm talking to). To help curb my withdrawals I resolved to do one race a month, starting in December of 2010. Not a huge commitment but a very doable one and I could not train all the time because: A) I still need to work, be a father, and a husband, B) I have not found anyone who wants to sponsor a late 30s, Type B sudo-athlete, who will never win 1st place but will probably hit on your daughter 3) I am not independently wealthy or have a trust to fund my philanthropic pursuits, aka, me, and D) my wife would leave me for a Swedish bikini model named Alma and send me pictures of what I was missing.
Finding training time was, thankfully, easy. At work I met a group of very attractive women who enjoy running at lunch (Before anyone jumps up and down crying lech I will have you know that I have invited several guys to join our running group and all have declined. It is purely coincidental that I run with women and it is not part of my master plan to be surrounded by scantily clad spandex wearing hot chicks. I swear). I was also able to steal a few hours to run on the weekends because I have a very, VERY patient wife who deals with my inability to sit still like someone who would deal with a 2 year old: equal amounts encouragement and chastisement.
All in all getting prepped for all my races has not been an arduous task. Painful at times, maybe, but not difficult. Much love to the Working Girls (yes, I just named them that... take whatever meaning you wish from it) and my fantastic wife for keeping me out on the roads. You know what they say: "Behind every man is a great woman...
... telling him how he's doing it wrong."
(coming next: “My Brief(?) Summary of Races Gone By”)
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