Stomping Cancer at my first Practice Race (5K)

I decided to mix up my training a bit and replace my scheduled 3 mile "easy run" with a 5K evening race throughout the surprisingly scenic streets of West Chester, Pennsylvania. 

The reason I say "surprisingly scenic" is because I'm used to the streets of West Chester at night. A time when they possess a uniquely quaint quality of subdued chaos. 

The small, college town charm of the main street and the side streets dotted with trendy looking restaurants are apparent, but there is added haze of spontaneity and recklessness in the air that hangs over the town on most Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights.  

This time around, the  haze of spontaneity and recklessness was replaced by that of philanthropy, friendship and athleticism. Over 230 runners gathered off Market street to run in the 2013 WC Stomps Cancer race, with many others participating in the walk as well. 

 

Let me just start by saying that I didn't feel like I was in the ideal condition to run this race on this particular evening. I worked most of the day, drove about 2 hours in stop and go traffic and had a nagging, inevitable side stitch that I knew would latch on with a relentless grip during the race. 

Maybe it was the Turkey Jerky I inhaled so that I wouldn't be hungry during the run. Possibly the 2 cups of coffee. Or maybe it was the fact that just the night before, I was immersed in the subdued chaos of West Chester in the evening, making a stop at Alibis and Side Bar to add a little spontaneity to my Thursday evening. 

The starting line was a melting pot. Old veteran runners stretching their quads, the faint smell of Bengay following them on their warmup jog. Young kids excited to run with their parents. Weekend warriors looking for a unique start to their favorite time of the week. The diehards with the spandex, headbands, sport goggles, racing flats, and bulging calf muscles. The families. It was eclectic.

I took a few wind sprints and jogs around the neighborhood, looked around, and decided "hmm, I may be able to place here!" It looked more like the type of crowd you'd see at a relay for life event or even at the Exton Square Mall. Not necessarily a race

We were lined up and ready to go. A few speeches were made about the impact that the Bringing Hope Home Organization has had on the lives of people, a message from the sponsor, and finally, the start. A split second before we took off, I heard my name being shouted in the distance. To my surprise, my family was there cheering me on at the starting line!

I got off to a quick start, blistering through my first mile and trying to keep up with the short-shorts and headband sporting die hard runners blazing the trail and trotting confidently at the front of the pack. I kept up my speed, but slowly lost sight of the top of the pack as we curved around the streets of West Chester and my side stitch crept in slowly like an impending storm. Somehow I kept up the pace and stayed within the top 10 or so at the start. 

Somewhere around mile 1.75 on a downhill slant, 2 girls no older than 12 flew down the hill at Usain Bolt-like speed. 

They were huffing and puffing but had stoic looks on their identical twin-like faces that said "psh, we can do this in our sleep." But my thoughts of "I'm not losing to a 12 year old girl" overpowered it and I kicked it into gear, passing them around mile 2. 

The final mile was an absolute battle between me and about 3 other people. An experienced runner in his mid 50's, a very serious, seemingly regimented diehard mid 20's runner girl, and a college-aged, backwards hat sporting athletic kid. I passed him, he passed her, she passed me, I passed her, he passed me again. There was even some interesting dialogue here as we're all running sub-6:25 miles. 

The mid 50's guy spotted a lightning fast woman way ahead of us. "I told you she was fast!" he said. My response was something along the lines of "I had her earlier in the race!" As we ran side by side for about 400 meters, I felt a false sense of bonding, as if we were some sort of team. "We can pass this guy up ahead" I told him. He totally ignored me, kicked it into gear, and sped up. 

I crossed the finish line at the 19:46 mark and exchanged high fives and handshakes with my fellow semi-fast finishers. "You just lost to a 56 year old man" was the one guys response. Of course, I responded to that with "....I was out drinking last night." 

I watched more of the race on this beautiful September evening in West Chester, met up with my family, and then enjoyed some free food, affordable beer and live music at Barnaby's, which hosted the event. Nothing like some Yuengling, chicken fingers, ziti, and a meatball sandwich after powering through a 5K. 

Events like this not only give me confidence in my running ability. They also instill within me a sense of community pride. Something I should really be a little more grateful for. After nearly 2 years living and working in Europe, it's become easy for me to downplay where I'm from. But it's events like this that bring my community vibrance and life and make me proud to be from this Southeastern part of Pennsylvania.

Sure, I plan to run a marathon (or at least a half marathon) on every continent and I have full intentions of exploring more of the world in years to come, but in this moment as the upbeat sounds of a Hawaiian looking dude jamming top 100 hits on his acoustic guitar filled the air, everyone was cheerful in their endorphin induced runners high. They were having a great time spending time with their families, their running teams, their charities and their friends. I was there alone, but I had some good conversations with fellow runners, first time runners and families.

I came to the race alone and I left feeling a bit more indirectly connected to the local community. We're nearly at the one month mark now! One more practice race (this time a 10K), some more fundraising, and a hell of a lot more training to go

Survived My First Long Run!

Todays New York Road Runner Race Plan called for a grueling 16 mile run. My first real distance run of the training, and the longest amount of consecutive miles I've ever ran. Leading up to the run, I knew I was physically capable of handling it and knew it would all come down to my mental fortitude. I'd have to really be in a good, positive mental state in the morning.

After some sub-par, anxiety plagued sleep the night before, I was feeling a little hazy and worried as I pulled up to the Struble Trail on this sunny Tuesday morning, the Preston and Steve show giving me my pre-run entertainment. I started to slightly question my mental strength and physical aptitude as I approached the trail, flipped on my Nike running application and got going. I distinctly remember my thought process as well, so here goes...

Mile 1 - I started off slow and per usual, I let my mind wander as I eased into my run. The inevitability of my playlist was a little discouraging, but I pressed on at a nice easy pace

Mile 4 - Should I continue this easy pace? I'm barely even breaking a sweat. The way Hall and Oates led effortlessly into Jimi Hendrix's effortless guitar solo allowed me to finally start getting lost in my run.

Mile 6 - I ran through the full course once and my car was in sight. Should I just give up and call it a decent 6 mile run? Nah, I'll press on. I started thinking about tattoos. I should go straight from this run to M and M tattoos and get a tattoo about running or about how "life is a journey."

Mile 7 - All I could think about was how I would reward myself in 9 miles when this run was finished. Should I opt for the triple cheeseburger and fries at Wendy's? The asiago ranch chicken? Nah, Wendy's is too far out of my way. Maybe that dorito loco taco they always advertise at taco bell

Mile 10 - My calves started to burn, I picked up the pace a bit and I went for a slight detour down the Uwchlan trail. Despite the dull burn in my calves, I could feel myself hitting my stride

Mile 12 - The bossman came in and provided some energy to my run. I hit the Springsteen block of my playlist. As Clarence came in and breezed through his sax solo in "Badlands" and the crowd erupted into its trademark chant, my endorphins kicked in and I was cruising.

Mile 14 - The end was near and I knew I needed only one more loop. The casual nature that the other trail inhabitants exhibited as they casually walked and socialized on the trail annoyed me the slightest bit. As did the mysterious smell of cigarette smoke hovering from a nearby construction site.  I guess I felt that if I'm trying to bust out 16 miles, everyone else should be putting forth a similar effort.

Mile 16 - I didn't feel much of a sense of accomplishment yet. The most prevalent thought in my mind was "when I stop running will my legs seize up?" They didn't. Off to Wawa.

I picked up the pace gradually as the run continued and was able to finish my last mile at a sub 8 minute pace. A milkshake, a power bar, a reeses cup, and a massive jug of gatorade later, I was in my bed power napping the day away before my tennis classes started. All in all a beautiful day and a successful run.

Looking forward to the next one!

Weekly Running Advice

This week, I had a conference call with my marathon team and some conversations with my aunt, an avid runner and marathon enthusiast herself. After these calls and conversations, I can conclude the following:

• "Your first marathon is a lot like your first time having sex."
• It's necessary to be a shameless self promoter and write your name on your running outfit while you cruise through the boroughs. It will give you an extra boost as spectators yell "Go Justin! You got this Justin!"
• Around the 20 mile mark, you reach the point of no return. By the finish line, it's inevitable. Get the tissues ready. You're crying. 
• Security is going to be insane at the New York Marathon. It's the first big US Marathon since the tragic Boston events unfolded
• I'll be eating breakfast with my team and the 1974 NY Marathon Winner on the Monday after the race! 

Needless to say, I'm looking forward. Here's to another week of marathon training, trail running, and some voracious reading of running literature. 

New Trails, New Milestones, and a TON of Southern Food

Sometimes the need to try something new  trumps the need to hit the trails at ungodly hours, especially when you're spending time down South in the personable, historic confines of Hillsborough, North Carolina. Nothing screams "lower your marathon time exponentially" like chicken and biscuits at Bojangles, chicken and biscuits at Biscuitville, and Southern Microbrews. But this was all completely called for during my trip to North Carolina. 

I've never had the pleasure of indulging in such Southern delicacies, but after my trip to Hillsborough, North Carolina earlier this month to visit , I got to experience what all the hype was about. The buttery biscuits, juicy chicken and extra tall fruit punch were just what I needed to ensure optimum training performance while preparing for this marathon!

Needless to say, I deviated from my training a bit on the week of September 9. Historic walks in Hillsborough, checking out local bars and restaurants, indulging in local coffee shops and Southern fast food. It was all too good to be true! Well, I did get in a 6 mile run through the historic streets of Hillsborough on a particularly warm and sunny Tuesday morning. A fantastic trip, a memorably reunion, and a little bit of slacking, but I picked up right where I left off!

Upon returning, I discovered the Chester Valley Trail. A winding, scenic, occasional construction laden trail through the Exton/Malvern border areas. The constant change of scenery and direction makes it ideal for long runs, so long as the playlists are on par. This time around, I've been hitting my stride during catchy country tunes, synth-infused indie, and of course, a healthy dose of live Bruce Springsteen. This song accompanied today as I hit my stride on a particularly leisurely 7 mile run throughout Chester Valley.

When I first started my training, I was told that "it will almost start to feel like another job." In terms of time commitment, I honestly feel this. Even if I have an entire late morning off the court, I know I should be training and logging in my miles. It's become so prevalent that it now comes up in my elevator pitch when people ask me "what I'm doing with myself these days." I always like to throw in "well, I'm training for a marathon." Sure beats "Well, I'm the Manager of a tennis company, Deputy Director of a local tennis nonprofit, girls high school tennis coach, freelance TEFL telemarketer, and freelance tennis instructor." This next week will be the longest run I've ever done in my life. Time to rev up the itunes, craft some playlists, drink some water, and lay off the pumpkin spice lattes and beers!

What on Earth is a Fartlek?

....and how does it relate to dubstep music??

Is it a college hazing ritual? Is it a long-lost, lovable loser character from "The Sandlot" or "Salute your Shorts?" I wondered what this word meant as I saw it on my training schedule for today. Thanks to my New York Roadrunners Club training schedule, they described it in depth for me.

Fartlek is Swedish for "speed play" and it's a highly effective, stimulating aerobic workout, featuring timed intervals that alternate between a slow jog and a relatively fast sprint. Today, after running 2.5 miles, I was scheduled to run six 1:00 fartlek intervals. This means I'd run fast for one minute, jog for 30 seconds, run fast for one minute, jog for 30 seconds, etc. This would continue until I completed the cycle six times.

As soon as I left my house, I knew it was ideal fartlek weather.

The combination of the thick, humid air and the blazing sun made for some warm conditions. I seem to thrive in these conditions. When the air is thick, the sun is bright, and I'm completely drenched in sweat, I feel in my element. It doesn't feel like I'm just taking a leisurely training stroll.

Runs like this alter my body chemistry. The rhythmic breathing, the sweat-soaked dri-fit shirt, the endorphins. It all feels natural instead of forced when the conditions are a bit warm and sticky.

New music and new playlists always seem to energize me, and training for this race has made me realize that drum and bass, dubstep, and heavy electronica music really get the job done, especially during interval work.

I made a playlist today consisting of Camo & Krooked, Skrillex, The Qemists, Flux Pavilion, Modestep, Zomboy, etc. The eclectic sounds, distorted beats, and heavy drops always kept me on my toes.

The droning, electronic infused verses, the buildup, the fast pace, and then the inevitable distorted drop was in sync with the concept of the fartlek workout. You warm up and hit the trail at a steady pace (the intro and the verse), you quicken your pace before the sprint begins (the buildup), and finally, you let loose and sprint for a minute (the drop) before slowing to a jog (back to the verse).

For more education on what I'm referring to, here's a funny little animated cartoon about dubstep. The goofy, robotic voiced guy is jokingly explaining this genre of music. I think its a pretty accurate depiction of fartlek runs as well. 

On another note, I'm almost finished with "Running with the Kenyans" and its been informative, enlightening, and inspiring. As soon as I finish, I'll post my thoughts on the book and how it's affected my training and my perception of myself as a runner. After that, it's time to see what all the hype is about and dig into "Born to Run." 

...One more thing. Is it bad that I'm eagerly awaiting my training schedule for next week to be emailed to me?