so I'm back....

  May Third this year, I PRd at Broad Street with a time of 75 minutes.  I took three minutes off my time.  To say I ran this race in the best shape of my life would not be a stretch.  I felt strong the whole way- and had a ton of fun on the entire course.  Very happy that my return to the circuit worked out this way.

  Sadly, the day after the race, I broke my right foot.  As soon as I could run again, I woke up on the floor of the Stamford CT Hilton with a concussion Saturday morning and have been struggling with the pain, soreness, and embarrassing memory loss that goes along with that.  So that was scary.  THANKFULLY, it all seems to be improving.  I can at least sneeze now without feeling like I'm going to die.  So that happened.

  The best cure for anything is running.  I'm getting back on the horse today and heading out with my running partner.  Amazing news is that we are neighbors now, and I'm looking forward to a strong, healthy summer of running and cycling with friends and my little man. 

  This fall will be my fastest race season.  I can tell.  :-)

keen observations

since happening upon the realization that i am running for two, i would be completely remiss to not chronicle some of my revelations and discoveries of the last 6 months:

1.  it is possible to sleep all day.  it is possible to want to sleep all day.  it is possible to not regret sleeping all day.

2.  say what you will, but i do not feel as if i am some part of a greater divine, mystical troupe of miracle people.  i don't think that creating people is some sort of sacred rite.  i am a victim of scientific circumstance, and all i have to show for it is a shorter temper, fatter thighs, and some dried vomit on the wall behind the toilet.

3.  it's only 24 weeks into existence, and already i have to verbally discipline it.   

4.  i've dropped something on the floor, said "fuck it," and kept on going. 

5.  putting on socks makes me out of breath. 

6.  i realize i have to pee again while i am still wiping myself from the last time i peed. 

7.  they say pets instinctively become protective of you while you are in a "delicate" state.   i say this is bullshit.  Bing couldn't care less.  he ignores me all day unless he wants a walk or a snack- in which case he becomes an insufferable pain in my ass. 

8.  the universe doesn't care where you are when your blood pressure drops and your body becomes dehydrated.  unless you have a cushy chair and a tall glass of water, it's lights out. 

9.   oddly enough, men will still hit on you. 

10.  at some point, my hormones and some sort of instinctive poisonous chemical began betraying all of my reason, logic, and common sense. 

anatomy of: the black death.

  i'd been averaging 35 mile weeks until just this one.  which is awesome, but it looks as if i am going to miss another big race i've registered for due to schedule conflicts.  perhaps two.  sideglance.  which is frustrating when you're trained and ready to clean up.  we won't get into that.  sometimes you just have to pick a big race, buy the plane ticket, and announce to the entire world that this is what is happening that given morning.  and then of course hope for the best.  i purchased the insurance on the last marathon i did, which turned out to be useful..

  this morning was one of those disney princess mornings when i awake to birds chirping and swirling around the trees beside my house-  the sun is beaming straight through my bedroom window, and it's a bluebird day with nary a cloud in the sky.  i spring from my pillows, as i do...  execute a cute little well timed yawn, refreshingly stretch my arms...  not so fast, gigi d.  apparently you have a flu.  or a stomach virus.  or a head cold.  or the bubonic plague.  i ran straight into the bathroom and vomited.  too vivid a description?  i'm a runner.  we say these sorts of things.  don't believe me?  just ask a runner.  the truth is.  life is not always a flawless, perfectly attractive thing every single day.  if this offends, you, i extend to you a polite invitation to stop reading this- cause it only gets worse.




   the rest of my day was spent trying to escape the pain by sleeping.  but even then i couldn't decide whether i was too hot.  or too cold.  or about to vomit again.  or if i wanted to lay in the bottom of the shower and cover myself with soap and let it all rinse off.  or then station myself on the bathroom floor because it is in close proximity to the toilet.  and also cool.  but i should have a blanket on hand in case it is too cool.  so i did all of these things.  when you're dying, you must understand how low dignity really is to comfort on the list of priorities. 

  i prefer to not even refer to illness inspired respites as sick days, as i have my own definition of what they are.   but also,  i am familiar with the widely accepted term "sick day" if in the academic sense only.   a sick day is when one makes an excuse to bask about and do nothing all day in an effort slightly larger than it would have taken to just get their ass to school or work.  i actually never did this my own self, as i knew i couldn't go out and play later, and daytime TV scared the shit out of me.    my personal definition of a sick day is when i realize i am functioning below the weather- i've suffered a minor cold or inconvenient headache or god forbid my period.  i take more than the recommended dosage of dayquil, power on, and forget all about it.  that's a sick day.

  a dead day, on the other hand is when i've discovered i am so incapacitated and so embarrassed by my compromised state that i have no other option than to sleep through my agony.  and then- but only once i feel up for it, or strong enough, i can enter phase 2:  feeling very, very sorry for myself.   it is usually in phase 2 that i attempt any form of communication at all.   in the throes of the black death, i am not so apt to admit to any sort of vulnerability or delicacy in my person.  it goes against my ideals to entertain perhaps that i am anything but solid, tenacious, and completely indomitable.   that is private, sacred "leave me alone to die" time.   and one fact remains:  i'd rather be running.

  thank god for friends, however because without them, i may be found starved and without large quantities of coconut water.  it is now, when i am too ailing to argue-  that they decide to impart their timeless wisdom and personal advice about how i work too hard, run too far, don't drink enough water, don't look both ways before crossing the street, and make impractical decisions regarding my financial and romantic lives.  this happens because they know i am not likely to run away during this time.  and that also, everybody knows better than to disrespect the person literally hand spooning you chicken noodle soup.   i call this the "i have you right where i want you" position.   i'd rather avoid this.

  i kept the black death to myself today.  i drank my tea.  nibbled my toast.  i even received a lime shake, peach tea, and a coconut water from an amazing friend who was not so eager to supply a lecture.  hopefully tomorrow,  i'll be the intrepid runner of the morning mist.  i prefer foggy days to sunny ones anyhow.  better sleeping weather.  better running weather. 

 

 

are we there yet

The best part of the day was making lunch and sailing.  i promise.  because after that, all the actual work started.

  I didn't get my run in this evening or last evening because i attended a "summer sailstice" party at Joya's fine establishment, and it was quite the jamboree, as it always is.   everyone had a splendid time, but like always, i grew tired and bratty (mostly because i had no run, and was not winning a match of croquet to make up for it.  also, Adrian's father was cheating.) and retired to bed early in preparation to bring the boat out today.  we had a wonderful lunch and fantastic sailing.

  as it is, my room is empty.  goodbye boxes, goodbye old bags of trash from completely unexplainable sources.  goodbye mess.  my car is cleaned out, my room is cleaned out, and most of my belongings are over at the (as i've been calling it) new H.Q.  the ten year old in me still finds it remarkably fascinating that i am completely the boss of my own dwelling space.  who let that happen?  in one room i can keep my reptiles, power tools, and boat building implements, and in the other, my tea set and my My Little Ponies.   wildly fantastic.  still don't know where the treadmill and rowing machine will go.  i'm thinking i need a running area for my trophies and marathon medals.  i'm not bragging.  i'm being practical.

just looking forward to the time when this is all sorted and i can go home to my house and relax and have it be orderly and functional and completely my own.

almost got it right this year.

ten miles is the perfect distance race.  it's short enough to sprint, and it's long enough where anything can happen.  let's face it- a marathon is only an exciting competition for an elite runner, and a half marathon... is exactly one half of a race.  if Pheidippides only ran HALF a marathon, he would have expired a nameless failure somewhere between Marathon and Athens, and his message would have been lost entirely.  we'd have some other arbitrary long-distance extravaganza certainly with a different title.  and i'm sure a glorified event boasting exactly half that distance as well.  so there you have it.

i digress.  so ten miles is (in my not so very humble opinion) a glorious way to run a long distance very quickly.  typically, i train during the late winter and early spring on a similar ten mile course in Newport and PA.  i was not afforded the luxury of 29*F weather, frigid headwinds, and ice on the ground this winter, and sadly had to train in warmer weather- where my biggest obstacles were hermit crabs, and very dead decomposing goat carcasses.  the hills at first were my friends, but mid april i discovered i had a mystery injury on my hands that made running even a few steps completely impossible.  a stress fracture?  sciatica?  tendonitis?  muscle tear?  there were no available resources in the caribbean to diagnose my itis, so i swallowed some NSAIDs and hit the gym and pilates mat as hard as i could.  I ran a half marathon Wednesday, April third.  i was not in a large amount of pain, however things were never quite the same after that run.

I joined form fitness in st barth and decided to no longer continue running down hills at all.  i had been strong, and able to do this in the beginning of the winter- but repeated pounding was aggravating my lower leg region in my right leg although my knees were fine and happy.  stressful as it was, i kept to the elliptical machine, stationary bike, and rowing machine to get my daily cardio in, and some weeks would go three, four, five days even without running.  and when i did run, i limped along at three miles at a go.  it was a sad time. 

  I guess i should talk about Antigua.  It was good to be back home at the Dockyard.  Strange not doing my daily runs up to Shirley Heights and back down again.  Strange not to wait for that call from Jared on the VHF.  morning after morning.  but all was well, and everyone was super excited for Classics.  Joey was with us, Adrian, and friends from other boats to play boules with us every night, and cook steaks on the dock.  I have a membership to the yacht club gym, so i purchased a load of national geographics and runners worlds so i could cycle 2 hours per day and work the rower.  the regatta came and went because we had two separate rigging issues- the first one, Ayds sprung to our rescue and remedied almost immediately.  and for that, i am forever grateful.  sadly, the third day left us out, so i hopped into Cory and Roddy's helicopter and zoomed around with a huge grin on my face.  our lack of racing translated into more time spent in the gym, getting strong for this race that at the time, i had no idea if i would even finish.

meanwhile, we're getting the boat ready to ship north, so it helped to just focus on work, and not fret so much about the stress of the race itself.  luckily, Junebug was there with us and we did a lot of therapeutic swimming every day as well.  the sunday before the race in tortola, i downed a few aleeve and managed to make a very slow 8 miles on evening so i said i'd be happy if i just finished the race at all, and vowed to do better next year- and not touch any anti inflammatorys in the meantime because i swear they're killing what's left of my liver. 

i took it easy on the plane ride, and showed up at the expo on saturday to make an obligatory appearance.  i announced that i have no idea what is going to happen in this race.  you can only train the best you can, and any given sunday, anything can happen after that gun goes off and your toe shoots past the line.   then i ran a celebratory lap with my dad and brother at FDR to loosen things up.  it felt surprisingly good.

sunday morning came.  inevitably.  rode subway north, used restrooms at the church, did my pre-race rituals.  got in my gate.  gun went off.  ambled over the start, and cautiously trotted south down broad street amidst a crowd of 40,000.  mile three came, and when i noticed my 22 minute time, my goal of "just finishing" the race switched to "i'm not going to drop above an 8 minute mile!  no way sir!"  my dignity completely at stake, i pushed through the finish line only one second shy of a personal best.  ONE SECOND?!  are you KIDDING ME?!  needless to say, i am positively seething right now, for had i not ambled over the starting line, and hit the mat at full stride (you know, the same pace at which i ran from the subway station to the restrooms at the church when i had to pee very badly!) i most likely would have OFFICIALLY PRed.  ::shakes head:: only me.   last year i didn't eat before the race.  this year, i was injured.  one of these years i'm destined to get it right.  Hello, 2014.

zoom zoom zoom

i haven't been on here much.  apologies.  and it hasn't been for lack of running.  tempo runs have been going well.  happy with progress.

  my flight for philadelphia is already booked.  fly into Philly on Friday the 3rd just in time for the Broad Street Run expo on the 4th, and the race on the fifth.  sorted.  i guess i'll fly back to Newport in the following days, and then have to arrange a road trip to Maine and bring my car down.

  until then, we've got a regatta next (not this) weekend, and we're quite busy until Antigua Classics are over, which is good... but have to be deliberate about my training runs.  here in Nanny Cay and in St Barth, it's very easy.  i'm also keeping up with pilates as much as i can as i'm convinced it makes me faster.  i've got another race weekend after BSR in Newport that i'm looking forward to hopefully nailing.  i came in 3rd last year.  so there's room for improvement, obviously.   

  i watched Run For Your Life this evening, and i'll admit that i found it to be an inspirational documentary. 
 
  i'm usually done eating food by 6pm or so, but lately at 9 or 10PM i'll find myself noshing on a sliced banana with yogurt as a bedtime snack.  also, i was craving cheese earlier today.  which can only mean one thing- mileage is creeping up.  this is true.  and so was my speed today on the track.  i only did a quick 4.5 miler, but for the first time since the summer, i feel like i'm starting to get ready to race again.  i don't have any races between now and Broad Street.  this time last year, I had the Old Fashioned Ten Miler, the Cape May Marathon, as well as the Jamestown Bridge 10K- I PRed at the OFTM- which coincidentally was my peak week, and i lumbered lazily through the finish line of the Jamestown race two weeks or so after the marathon, and for Broad Street, i could tell i was still recovering however i PRed again right there. 

  i'm thinking i will PR Broad Street again in 2013 hopefully, as i'll have no marathon to be recovering from- i'll just have to maintain my speed which is the most important part.  i can run 7 minute mile 5Ks, however not when i've been marathon training, and slogging along at 9 minute mile pace.  i'm thinking the LSRs did me in last spring, and although i was more than prepared- if not overly so, running ten miles fast takes completely different preparation than having the ability to run 20 miles slow- obviously, and i think i dropped the ball by not doing more hill work or bi weekly speed training.  i was too preoccupied with distance at the time, and didn't have my eye on the prize.  well, i did PR, but not with the time i wanted.