Tag Archive for Team Novo Nordisk

60K for World Diabetes Day!

Loop 3 of the #nyc60k sitting in fourth. Photo credit: Denie Wong

Loop 3 of the #nyc60k sitting in fourth. Photo credit: Denie Wong

When your local ultra marathon falls on World Diabetes Day, what else would you expect me to do with such great timing?! Following from my distant last year’s 2nd place performance at the 60K (to my good and speedy friend Carlo Agostinetto), my goal was to run my own race. Not only was he returning to defend, but another fast friend in Adolfo Munguia – that would be the 2013 champion, was making a return appearance to the only NYRR ultra.

My ‘own race plan’ was to attempt to run a sub-3 hour marathon pace (6:51) except do so for the complete race of 37.2 miles. All good plans need training and focus and unfortunately I decided to get stuck into the race from the gun instead.

Catching up with Alfonso on loop 1.

Catching up with Adolfo on loop 1. Photo credit: Michael Toma

A lead runner who was a mystery to all of us held the lead for three loops (the first being a lower 5 of Central Park, followed by the monotonous 8x 4 mile inner loops) before our group swept him up like a peloton catching a brave solo rider. From their, the games really begun with Carlo pushing the pace at times and others countering. Clocking off a 6:06 mile was not smart or realistic but that was what was going down at times!

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Running strong in a pack of 5 up Cat Hill chasing the solo leader in the early loops. Photo credit: KJ Englerth

Carlo and the newbie ultra Eric (he told me this was to be his furthest ever run after a 23 mile training run!) took off and left me and Adolfo to chase, sharing third. Checking my glucose on my CGM every loop, I made my calculations of whether I would grab water or Gatorade from the table or even mix it up and tear open a Honey Stinger gel that I had stuffed into my glove.

Loop 3 with Eric. Photo credit; Michael Toma

Loop 3 with Eric and Aldofo. Photo credit; Michael Toma

Soon enough Adolfo tried to bridge the gap to keep tabs on the front two. I knew better at this point than to try anymore heroics, especially as my training for the race involved a spur of the moment 2:57 Yonkers Marathon and pacing the 3:30 group at the NYC Marathon. The rest of my training had been running with my dog Miles!

Along the 72nd St. transverse road once more. Photo credit; Michael Toma

Along the 72nd St. transverse road once more. Photo credit; Michael Toma

Hanging in fourth solo for a loop or so, I then found Eric struggling ahead as we crossed the 72nd transverse once more. His lack of experience if nothing else had caught up to him and he was now going half the pace from when I last saw him. It gave me renewed energy just as I was beginning to fatigue because now I had a podium place behind Carlo and Adolfo (which I had predicted to myself during the week). But later on the same loop, Adolfo pulled up cramping ahead without any previous signs of trouble. I was genuinely upset to see this and wished we were able to race together and gut out a true dispute for what seemed like second place at the time.

But now here I was in second with Carlo well ahead (a mile I believe I was told) as I clocked off a marathon time of 2:58. Two minutes under goal pace in theory but I was now paying the price for those early fast loops. With just a NYRR bike volunteer for company, all I could do was churn out the miles and hang onto second. Any mile around 7-minute pace was a success. I knew it would take something special from a runner behind to catch me if I maintained that kind of pace. But with two loops to go, my gait got sloppier, my desire to push and truly live in the red zone was not there and my pace kept dropping.

The biker reassured me with one loop left, third was way back. The famous last words of fake reassurance. An NY Harrier whom I had not seen for several loops passed and now I was third with no counter punch. Down the west side hills one last time and one more runner passed me and then another. I dared ask if they were un-looping themselves from me in fear that they would say “no”. I knew the answer without asking the question. My body was done and I had nothing to give except the next step. Up cat hill for the ninth time (never again!) and one more runner passed. It took everything in me to not stop and just walk at this point as my final loop was now becoming a real mess.

The final stretch taking home 5th place (??) in 4h 30.

The final stretch taking home 5th place (??) in 4h 30. Photo credit: Scott Shiba

But I focused. I knew Tiffany, Andrew, Scucy and many other friends would greet me at the finish just as they had so kindly cheered me on all day all around the course. The victory was still mine. I knew the day still belonged to World Diabetes Day (as tough as that is with the tragedy of Paris the night before). The 60K I was about to pull off was my 30th ultra marathon, my 49th marathon or more. My place only mattered to me so I did my best to hold my head up high and remember why I chose to run this race today. To inspire everyone affected by diabetes that you can still do what you want with your life, even if that means running nine loops of Central Park.

Belt buckles are usually reserved for 100 mile races but....

Belt buckles are usually reserved for 100 mile races but….Photo credit: Jurgen Englerth

To trump my morning race in the park, my day had only just begun. I went home, ironed my best suit and tie and attended a reception at the Danish Ambassador of New York’s home representing Team Novo Nordisk with many high-profile, or as the Consel General Anne Dorte Riggelsen phrased it “Champions of Diabetes”. To meet the likes of her, Jesper Hoiland and his Novo Nordisk executive team and Aaron Kowalski of JDRF, to name just a few was quite the honor. I am so proud to be an ambassador for diabetes and today was a true celebration of that. As Aaron reminded me #T1Dlookslikeme. It could look like you. It affects all of us either living with diabetes or knowing someone that is. Ultimately, their will eventually be a cure. Until that time, Happy 123rd Birthday Sir Dr. Frederick Banting. You saved my life and millions of others. Thank you just doesn’t seem enough so I will continue to do what I do best. I’ll go for another run.

Editor’s note: I can’t count! As demoralizing as the last loop seemed to go for me, I was only passed by the NY Harrier runner (David White) to affect my overall placing. I made the podium after all and finished 3rd in 4h 26.

Consistent Loopiness at the USATF 50K Road Championships

50K

A big draw to the Caumsett 50K is the fact the race doubles as the USATF 50KM Road Championships.

My first race of the year would be an ultra. That’s largely due to deciding to pass on focusing on the Boston Marathon as I have done the past four years. I guess I’m just not a streaker anymore! (Runner slang for consecutive days running or repeat racing, not the other type of running with no clothes on). With the ‘freedom’ of no marathon to train for, I knew the calendar of winter race options was my oyster. Talking of oysters, I ended up turning my attention to a local race, not so far from Oyster Bay. A road 50K in Caumsett State Park (which doubles as the far more glamorous title of the USATF 50K Road Championships race) was my choice. It’s a race that’s been on my radar for a few years and now seemed the right time to give it a go.

I begun training at the start of December which felt odd to me starting my 2015 campaign in 2014. I’ve never trained through the Holiday season and I knew that would be a tough phase to get through without losing focus. I was slightly lost how to go about training for a 50K road race with a firm emphasis on the word ‘road’. All of my previous 50K’s have been on trails, some gnarlier than others, but all without too much fixation on pace or goal time. I would have to hang my head if this wasn’t going to be a PR day.

RUN SMART PROJECT

A Scientific Approach To Becoming A Faster Runner

I knew this race could be almost run like a marathon, just slightly less gas to save the engine for another 5+ miles. But I just didn’t have any great knowledge of how to train for it. Luckily, my good friends at The Run Smart Project do and they customized a nice 3-month plan for me. Through the winter months, I found some excuses to not run every run prescribed, something I’ve never really had much trouble with before. Whether it was because training in December in NYC is hard (the park is dead), my travel schedule involved two trips to Europe (not complaining) or I just wanted to stay home and play with our new Weimaraner puppy, Miles, instead of facing the cold winter nights I’m not sure. But most of the time I did layer up and train and put in good, not great speed workouts.

Pre-Juno

Full on training mode in Central Park while the rest of the city hunkered down pre-winter storm Juno.

The training plan gives a predicted goal time (if you follow it precisely) and mine for March 1st read 3:22 goal time. I knew my fitness level was not there (it would have meant a marathon PR en route FYI) so I played a more cautious approach of aiming for a window between 3:30-40 which was in the 7-min pace range. I was hopeful but not convinced that was where I was, which I shared with my friend Ken Posner pre-race. I was however convinced that my 4:33 50K PR was about to be taken down though!

Ten 5K loops awaited me on a course I knew little about. I had chatted with Ian Torrence and Emily Harrison about this race a year ago and they said it was “definitely not flat”. I didn’t know exactly how to interpret that but was about to find out.

I asked around for information about what drinks were on the course but couldn’t seem to find a consistent answer. Bremen told me he thought it was Hammer which is low on sugar compared to other brands and therefore low on my list (sorry Hammer). I jammed four Honey Stinger gels into my gloves and tights and had more in my bag if I really needed to come back and reload. I had made a rookie diabetes mistake of trying to calibrate a new sensor for my CGM in the morning but the calibration hadn’t finished in time so carrying it was now worthless. The plus side of this mini disaster was that I had room for some more gels! The glass is always half full as a diabetic athlete : )

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8:30am on a cold day. Nothing better to do than start running! Photo credit: GLIRC

We took off in the bitter cold and I found myself letting a large number of male elites bomb ahead as I settled into a sub-7 pace alongside the returning female champ and course record holder, Emily Harrison. She had run a 3:17 last year so I quickly decided to ease up some more and try to relax into an honest pace.

The first mile was flat and then a long downhill, mile two, uphill and some rollers and the last mile went past the finish chute on and out and back lollipop loop which unfortunately involved lots of ice sections and cold puddles. I have nothing wrong with getting dirty but wasn’t this a national championship road race? This section was definitely the biggest challenge and hard to maintain a good pace.

By now, I had figured out that Gatorade was the electrolyte drink of choice on the course every 1.55 mile or so. With this really great news, I was able to quickly recalculate how and when to consume my carbs. Being that the type of race was not dissimilar to a marathon (where I don’t check my CGM often), I opted for my ‘every even mile’ carb intake approach.

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Fully focused on pace and monitoring my body. Photo credit: GLIRC

I ran lap 1 in sub-21 and felt that was probably slightly aggressive. The elites remained a bunch of five slowly stretching the gap on me (and others), Emily and Phil McCarthy ran separately ahead of me and I sat solo with a bunch of ten guys in hot pursuit to my rear.

I’m not sure how to ‘jazz up’ 10 x 5K loops but it was surprisingly far from boring. This is coming from the ‘I don’t do loop races’ guy. The repetitiveness of loops made the race a mathematical game for me. Lap after lap I was running consistent sub-21’s (I did not slow down after all) so I could predict the clock time down to a few seconds. As I passed by a really inspiring buddy of mine, Ken Tom, he said to me I made it look easy but I joked back “wait until lap 8”. But lap 8 eventually came and my pace did not waver. I am not trying to downplay the race or the distance. An ultra is hard, heck marathons are hard, running is hard. But today I locked in a pace and maintained it really well. I think I have to thank the monotony of loops for that.

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On the hunt in the second half of the race. Photo credit: GLIRC

Once I had finally caught and passed Phil McCarthy at the halfway mark, I knew I had to keep pushing on and swallow some more runners up if I was going to make an indent on the Top 10 USATF results board. I never actually knew my place but knew I was likely on the outside looking in. But to keep me in check of how this was all going, I got then got lapped by eventual winner Zachary Ornelas (Sketchers) before I could complete lap 6. I ate humble pie big time! He was flying.

Due to the course, especially the last section, it was obvious to see which guys ahead were my targets. All of my focus was on closing that gap. The only other thing I had to think about timing my next Gatorade or Honey Stinger.

Lap seven went by, same gap. Lap eight completed, same gap. Lap nine, same gap. Whatever my place, it seemed locked in. The two guys ahead were not slowing down. What was pretty cool about the second to last lap was running through the timed mat to collect an official marathon time. I saw my watch flip to 2:55 on the nose as I came by. Nothing spectacular but it made me smile as that was first ever sub-3 in NY state (I have a long-term goal of going sub-3 in 50 states). On the same lap, I did manage to un-lap myself from third place which did nothing for my overall place and then caught Emily Harrison which did nothing for my Top 10 USATF overall men place. But what it did do was show me, I was running strong while others were fading.

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Stop for nothing. I was locked in to consistent lap times and felt strong every time. Photo credit: GLIRC

On the final loop, I pushed and pushed just in case I could catch someone but my pace stayed at 6:35. My body was telling me this is it buddy, shouldn’t have skipped those workouts in December!The uphills now really beat my legs up (although they were gradual gradients or short rollers). I was going to sneak a peek at the finish clock before my final out and back section to see if I would make sub-3:30 but I already knew that goal was locked in so just ran, and ran hard through to the finish in a time of 3:27, a nice 66 minute PR!

Bremen, who ran the 25K (2nd place!), met me at the finish as snow was now coming down and I soon quickly realized how cold it had been out there. A giant blanket donated from him and some tomato soup was just the ticket I needed. I was content with my performance (almost as good as my post-race blood glucose!). I had to be. I got out of it what I put into it.

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Post-race friends hangout: Bremen, Ken Tom, Lucimar, Keila, Phil and Ken. A lot of cool war stories between this group! Photo credit: Keila Merino

At the awards, I had my fingers crossed that I had pulled off 10th USATF place but alas, I was short by two; 13th overall, 12th USATF with an average pace of 6:41. As the snowstorm continued, I hung out with my amazing ultra friends, grabbed some lunch and packed up shop before the storm got any worse. It was such a great race to be running with the likes of Keila, Zandy, Trishul and Ian Torrence and those mentioned earlier.  Running and friends. Oh, for the simple life.

A huge thank you to the Run Smart Project for my custom plan. I surprised myself with how well I ran but know I can still improve dramatically at this distance and surface. Top 10 next year? We will see.

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Consistent 5K splits. My marathon time was 2:55; first official sub-3 marathon for the state of NY!

Dashing Through NYC

My third ever 5K!

Me and the 5K have a very short history. A 19:02 from 2007 and an 18:24 from earlier this year. Technically, my fastest 5K is not even logged in the archives because it happened during a longer race.

Less than two months after running my furthest ever distance of 200 miles around Lake Tahoe, I wanted to challenge myself once again at the other end of the spectrum. I had two goals for the race. PR and break the 18-minute barrier.

I spent the majority of September off my feet trying to wrap my head around what I had just experienced and accomplished in Tahoe. When I did choose to run, I followed no agenda, either logging a 4 miler or a 20, nothing in between it seemed. My legs were jelly with zero speed but on the plus side, I knew I could run for hours on them still if I so chose.

Quickly enough though, October rolled around and I realized there was that 5K race I’d signed up for, now only one month away. To say I was in no shape for it was an understatement.  I decided to meet up with my longtime training partner, Gary Berard, for his speed workout in his final preparation for the Chicago Marathon.

The pre-meet up text read “2E, 2M, 2T, 2M, 2E”. This is the language of Coach Jack Daniel’s to which we abide for our marathon training. Decoded, E stands for easy pace, M, marathon pace and T, threshold pace. The 2 in this instance stood for the miles.

Going from the occasional slow run to this workout may have been a little extreme in hindsight, especially considering Gary was in peak condition. Needless to say, by two miles of marathon pace, I was barely hanging on to him. Mile 3 was an achievement in itself just to make it and by halfway through mile 4, I was keeled over in defeat as Gary continued up the hill in perfect form towards what would ironically be the finish line of my 5K race. Failing a workout is never fun but it was the wake up call I needed.

Daniels BOOK

The Runner’s Bible

I retreated home, showered, complained to Tiffany how I was way out of my depth and then grabbed my Jack Daniel’s book flipping to the 5K training pages that unsurprisingly, were in immaculate condition (you should see the marathon section). The 5K training plan started 16 weeks out and here I was beginning my plan with only 4 of them left to summon something up. I simply decided that was to be my training plan and dove straight into it.

Naysayers told me this was wrong, you should do this or you should do that. Most actually laughed in my face when I confessed I was training for a 5K. I think that’s a compliment to my ultrarunning endeavors. But the truth is, no one I spoke to or even Google knew how to go from 200 miles to 3.1 so here I quote Frank Sinatra because “I did it my way”.

Over those next four weeks, I traded my very well-trained slow twitch muscle fibers for fast twitch muscle fibers with up to three speed workouts a week, clocking 40 miles a week. In comparison, I train at about 90 miles a week with one speed workout for ultras. I did my training completely solo, largely because all my other friends were gearing up for the New York City Marathon the day following my race.

Every speed workout got a little better with a little less effort (except for those Friday morning 5:28 interval repeats. They sucked!) But by the end of October, I knew I was in way better shape to take on the clock and finish my race in 17-something. My mini training program was done, it was now showtime in the best city for just that.

NYRR Dash to the Finish Line 5K

NYRR Dash to the Finish Line 5K course map

With the race on my doorstep, the logistics couldn’t have been any easier. I woke up at 6:15am to the sound of raindrops, threw on some sweats and left HQ to go and get milk so I could eat my cereal two hours prior to the race start (8:30am). From the Food Emporium to Whole Foods to Duane Reade, everything was closed and I thought New York was the city that never sleeps. My logistics just got harder. A random deli was my savior in the end with the added bonus of a coffee and banana and back home I ran to get out of the rain. It wasn’t pretty out. My blood glucose levels were pretty however. They were right on cue all the way up to dropping a bag off in Central Park (the finish). From there, I zigzagged my way south and east across to the start at the United Nations building on 1st Avenue getting in an easy mile or so warm up. The weather was cold but the rain had eased somewhat, but by no means where these ideal conditions to run on slippery roads. At least it was looking somewhat better than the predicted high winds forecast for the main attraction on Sunday. I hung out with Brian Rosetti of The Run Smart Project (think Jack Daniel’s coaching online) at the start and we caught up waiting for the gun.

The midtown course is one for the sightseers for sure from the UN building, across 42nd Street past Grand Central Station, the Public Library at Bryant Park and now looking straight at the lights of Times Square in the distance. A ninety degree turn right on 6th Avenue aka Avenue of the Americas is a straight shoot to Central Park past Radio City Hall and the ‘LOVE’ symbol before winding right past The Plaza Hotel and up the southeast entrance into the park before doing a half lower loop clockwise up to the impressive and heavily marketed NYC Marathon finish line, hence the name of the race; Dash to the Finish Line 5K.

The race draws in people from all over the world because of the marathon. Friends and family not logging 26.2 miles on Sunday usually do this race as well as hardcore marathoners as their shake out run. However, the most competitive runners of them all are the local elites who are 5K, track specialists with lean bodies and flatter than flat racing shoes from the likes of NYAC (New York Athletic Club) and CPTC (Central Park Track Club). Standing in the corral being ushered forward to the start line a few rows back, I had no idea if I was standing too close to these types but screw it, here I was pretending to be just like them.

Off to the races. The elites lead us out down 1st Avenue. Photo credit: NYRR

Off to the races. The elites lead us out down 1st Avenue. Photo credit: NYRR

They say the first mile of the 5K should be the easiest and although I respected whoever ‘they’ are, I didn’t want to be fighting for space along 42nd Street. I knew that my true competition was myself and staying on pace to run between a 17:29-59 window was going to be my biggest challenge.

Past Grand Central a half mile in. Photo credit: NYRR

Past Grand Central a half mile in. Photo credit: NYRR

The mile one marker hid just out of sight after the turn up 6th Avenue so when my GPS clocked me at 4:41, I knew better than to think that was an amazing change of pace from training runs. GPS and NYC do not play well together. And so, as I did my turn with the upmost care on the wet roads I saw the mile 1 marker and took note of my watch once more showing me at 5:35.

Having run the course midweek, I decided that mile two was my ‘push mile’ because it was the flattest. I was ready to go up a gear now but I didn’t plan on getting a gust of wind in my face. A pack of six or so ran twenty yards ahead and I envied those sitting on the back of that. I looked around for a screen and all I saw were female runners half my size cranking away not giving a damn about trying to block the wind. It was time to man up!

Running west along mile 1. Photo credit: NYRR

I felt solid up the long stretch, my watch pace was more or less useless to me and so I went back to what Ian Sharman had drummed into me all Summer and focused on running on feel. I know what 5:15 feels like (horrid) and I know what 6 flat feels like (too easy for this situation) so I had to trust my running knowledge and try and stay locked in at 5:30 or so pace.

Just before the right turn into Central Park south, my friend Gary, who rightly gave me a whooping four weeks prior was out with his umbrella in the early hours of Saturday cheering me on. I knew now was the time to give it everything. A slight downhill to the corner of the park and mile 2 would be done. Two volunteers stood perfectly in front of the time clock which was probably not their actual job. Never the less, I caught a late glimpse of it reading 11:22. The wind up 6th Avenue had slowed me down more than I bargained for I guess.

With two uphills and one down remaining in the park now, I was pretty sure my 17:29 A goal was a wash (side note: Tiffany’s best college friend Fick, ran 17:30 in college and let me know about it leading up to the race!) Another great friend, Francis Laros was watching here and gave me my second boost of energy. I ran that first hill hard that I have run countless times over the years but never this hard. I passed a handful of runners now suffering apparently greater than me. I pretended to myself that the top was the end because I knew what followed was a long swooping downhill which we be somewhat of a recovery section.

I gave it everything now and was already beginning to regret not pushing even harder up 6th Avenue. But I knew of one thing for sure, and that was, this was going to be 17-something on the clock and I was on  my way to a PR.

0.5 left going for broke. Photo credit: Gary Berard

0.5 left going for broke. Photo credit: Gary Berard

Around Columbus Circle corner with a young buck by my side (later found it he was a 14-year old from the UK) and a girl from CPTC slightly ahead, I struggled to move clear of him and gain on her. A random spectator, ironically also from the UK, came to my aid with great words of encouragement “Come on! Back on your toes, catch her” It sounded like strange advice from a stranger but I decided to give it a go. To my amazement, I found not one but two higher gears with this change in my biomechanics and tore up that one last famous painful hill to the finish taking four or five more places in the process.

The huge electronic clock above the finish read 17-something and that’s all I knew or particularly cared about as I hung my arms over my legs in exactly the same way I had done so four weeks before. But this time, the feeling was achievement and not failure.

The final stats had me at 17:40 (5:41 pace) which put me in the top 100 of a field of almost 8,000. Later on that day, I reviewed my year of racing. This ended up being my 7th PR from 16 outings and somehow, this one was truly one of the most satisfying of them. Perhaps because I don’t consider myself to be a 5K runner, perhaps because I had just run 200 miles. Whatever the reason, I’m back in the park up to my old mischief in two weeks for the NYC 60K because what else would I rather be doing!

Feeling Good at the Vermont 100

Green Vermont mountains. Photo credit: Amy Rusiecki

Green Vermont mountains everywhere. Photo credit: Amy Rusiecki

Pre-race Goal Setting & Strategy

The Vermont 100 aka the VT100, was probably my first real race since school XC days that I approached it without any fixed goals. No time splits, average pace stuff and no finish time predictions. I did have one clear goal however; to run as fast as possible from start to finish ‘feeling good’. But that was it, nothing more. A new approach to running a very long way.

VT100 logo -

‘One step at a time’, a fitting slogan for my race strategy.

My former runner brain told me to be obsessed with breaking 20 hours. I knew the course would potentially allow for this with a great race but I respected and trusted my coach to guide me into a new way of setting running goals. By running on feel, my ability would do the talking for me. Perhaps I would break 20 anyway or maybe it would be 22 or the flip of that, 18? By not obsessing over numbers, I no longer would be able to feel like I was ahead or behind during the race (goodbye anxiety and stress). Just look at what Kilian produced at Hardrock the week prior. He ran ‘easy’ for 70 miles and then took off for the last 30 because he felt so good. He even dropped his more than capable pacer (Rickey Gates) because he began moving so fast. But alas, I am not Kilian, nobody is, but I and we can learn from the best and their style of running.

The day prior to traveling up to Vermont, I listened to my trusty source of trail running tips and humor from Trail Runner Nation. It was ironically fitting that the topic of conversation was Vermont and how to race on feel with guests Jimmy Dean Freeman – attempting the six original 100-milers in 13 weeks(!!) and my coach, Ian. For those intrigued, here’s a link to the podcast to what I’m talking about by running on feel;

JDF – Original Six Hundo – 2 Down – Mentor Ian Sharman | Trail Runner Nation

Listening to this was like getting a last-minute pep talk. Just in case, I wanted to say screw it, this approach sounds so vague, listening to this reassured me, this was how to do it. The detailed OCD sub-20 hour plan I had scribbled on my elevation profile chart weeks earlier was handed over to my crew on the 5-hour drive north Friday morning. Luckily for me, I had never re-read it to memorize any of it. It was now just a very basic guide to where I would possibly be for my crew of Tiffany, Francis and Rui (both paced me at Leadville in 2012) at each major aid station. Typical of them, they didn’t blink an eyelid to my very new approach which speaks so highly of who they are. They respected my strategy even though it would make it harder for them to track me down. Tip 1 for new 100 mile runners – get awesome crew!

My crew of Rui, Tiffany and Francis were priceless all weekend long. #VT1002014

My crew of Rui, Tiffany and Francis were priceless to me all weekend long. #VT1002014

VT100 course elevation and aid stations

VT100 course elevation with various aid stations.

Like Jimmy did recently at Western States three weeks prior, I couldn’t quite tear myself away from all my race data and planned to wear my heart rate (HR) monitor for the first 20 to 30 miles to guide me, capping my efforts at 150 bpm up the early climbs. And of course I would have my Garmin Fenix to keep track of all the data, yet I set my screen to only show elapsed time and my HR information.

July 19th – Race Day

Waking up at 2:15am Saturday morning felt anything like it. I had managed four hours of shut-eye and I was now ready to get going, my adrenaline was in full force. First things first though; a blood test. I was perfectly steady in the mid-100’s and I went to the kitchen to consume a couple of bowls of Honey Nut Cheerio’s, a yogurt, granola bar and a banana. Feeding the body calories now seemed to be the best move knowing a few hours later on in the day, I would not be craving real food so enthusiastically.

3:59am. VT100 start line at Silver Hill Meadow

3:59am. VT100 start line at Silver Hill Meadow. Photo credit: Vermont 100

In the dark fields of Silver Hill Meadow, 300 runners set off down a wide dirt road at 4am. As I had been warned, some runners leapt out in front at marathon pace. My extent of course knowledge was limited to knowing what sections were up or down and the names of aid stations only because I was carrying a laminated course elevation chart in my shirt pocket. I was basically out there just following yellow plates with black arrows or the guy ahead of me hoping he or she was paying attention. After a mile or so of road, the route turned sharp right onto a trail with some rocks and mud (that I was surprised to see on the course) and we began the first climb of what would be many. The course was renowned for being a relentless series of hills in humid conditions. Nothing too long or too steep but it would equate to 14,000 feet of ascent by the time we had covered the distance. This was great prep for Tahoe 200 (40,000 feet) and was a big factor why I was here. We all lucked out on the humidity factor though. This was not to be a hot race compared to years past. On one hand, I looked back and was annoyed I had put in  all those runs in Central Park with four layers on for what?! But on the other, I was relieved. 100 miles is hard enough without having to drown in sweat all day and worry about body temperature.

After an hour and change, the headlamp came off. The sun hadn’t quite risen but the openness of the land plus the non-technical terrain allowed me to be free of my Petzl Nao’s mega bulb. That headlamp is serious business people, highly recommended! At 5 miles, a hike up Densmore Hill was the first time to test out my strategic patience. Being able to resist the run and hike up gradients seems to be all part of the game at Vermont. This early on, everything feels great, my goal was to feel great all day long. Lots of folks around me pushed on while I went to power hike mode. My HR hovered at 151 and I knew I was now at my limit.

My ‘feeling good’ approach to the race took its first turn south at mile 10 however. Some very abnormal stomach cramps set in and I scrambled to figure out what was going on. After a little internal freak out, I nailed it down to nothing more than nature calling and took a detour into the woods (note; this was not someone’s property line! Last year, a runner pooped in a local’s blueberry bush which as you can imagine, caused quite the stir in town). Of course, this ordeal meant losing some time but the bigger picture was that I immediately felt better. Embarrassingly to admit, this scenario played out another five times throughout the first half of the race! I took the positive spin on this that I was definitely not going out too fast with all of these breaks.

Rolling into Pretty Horse (not feeling good!) with a veteran VT100 runner going for #11.

Rolling into Pretty Horse (not feeling so good!) with Prasad Gerard; a veteran VT100 runner going for #11.

Apart from my bathroom needs, the legs, lungs and mind were all feeling great. “How am I feeling?” was the question I would repeatedly ask myself. This could be to do with anything from drinking, getting calories down, salt pills, blood glucose levels or my effort level. The various topics were the same from mile 1 to mile 100. It was like the wheel of fortune landing on a different number (in my case, topic) each time. Doing so took focus and is why I didn’t care when I read in the pre-race literature that music was banned from the course. To not have any music as a distraction for me over 100 miles would be a first but my assumption of the rule was that running alongside horses was probably deemed a fairly dangerous situation! That’s right, this race was run alongside horses!

Not your average 100 miler!  Photo credit: Heidi Tanakatsubo

Not your average 100 miler! Photo credit: Heidi Tanakatsubo

Sidenote: For those not in the know, this 100 mile malarkey that I can’t seem to get enough of came about 41 years ago because of a 100 mile horse race gone wrong for a guy called Gordy out in California. His horse went lame so the next year he ran the distance on foot and finished it in just under 24 hours. The next year more runners showed up and that race became known as the Western States 100. I talk about it from time to time!

This was my (and likely many others) first time ever running a race alongside horses. It took some good communication skills from both the rider and runner how to let the four-legged guys go by without any ugly mishaps. When the first horse ran up behind me (their race started an hour or so behind ours), I shifted to the left of the trail slowly and let them by while still running. The guy in front of me took a slightly different approach leaping off the trail and then standing still, looking petrified! Either he was in for a long day of this or I was doing something very wrong and about to find out about it.

To my surprise, I caught back up to one of the handful of horses that passed when descending a somewhat steep stretch and passed them back. “Oh. Think you’re getting away from me do you?!” heckled the rider to me. I assured her my ego was not that big that I thought I was going to beat her horse, I just wasn’t much enjoying standing behind a big horse.  These were the only occasions you would (if dare) rarely pass them. The other time would be when they were drinking from their troughs on mandatory 45-minute breaks. While we ate gummy bears, M&M’s and gels, our four-legged friends were more into grains, carrots and apples (I am not a horse expert – a rider kindly filled me in on all this info).

Taftsville Covered Bridge at mile 15

Taftsville Covered Bridge at mile 15. Photo credit: Vermont 100

One of the highlights of the day came early descending a long hill to Stage Road aid station. The runner ahead turned as I approached and said “Oh, I thought you were a horse!” In any other scenario, I would have taken being called a horse as highly offensive but this was one of the highest compliments I think you can say to a runner on the Vermont course! All I was doing was letting the grade take me downhill swiftly refusing to break to try to save my quads. It resulted in quite the fast pace, definitely nothing manageable for a long period of time.

At 30 miles in, the legs began to finally get that tingly sensation in them, the kind all ultra runners know. At this point I had caught up to Keila and Karen (running together) and felt a bit more assured when Karen mentioned her legs felt the same way. All three of us ran into Stage Road aid together and saw a bunch of our friends there. It was like Cayuga 50 all other again, so fantastic to see so many friendly faces.

Cranking through the miles and loving it once more!

Cranking through the miles and loving it! Photo credit: Nanci Photography

Rui ushered me over to the crew area like I was a plane needing fuel which wasn’t far from the truth. My blood glucose was now 98 and it was time to get some carbs in to push that number back up. My crew had everything ready spread out on a blanket (I heard later kids looked enviously on at the goodies on display).

This was a bit smoother than the first aid station at Pretty Horse ten miles earlier. Tom (Elaine’s fiancé and crew chief) had asked me if I wanted my drop bag. “Drop bag?” (I didn’t have any) I said, “No. Where’s Tiffany?” I then turned to my right to see a very stressed and fast approaching Francis and Rui charging towards me. I got a good chuckle out of it, they didn’t find it so funny as they were about a minute from missing me.

While Tiffany was getting more ice into my bandana and cap, Rui was grabbing me foods and drink that I requested for my pack which left Frankie rubbing Aquaphor on my legs.  Bug spray, sunscreen, by whoever was free next and then off again. What may sound like chaos was fairly well controlled, everyone with a job to do. All hands were on deck at aid stations but these interchanges were definitely the highlights of the day for me. Giving them a review of the last X miles, how I felt at that given moment and then normally me making an awful joke about something. This was what it was about, having fun with my friends while doing something crazy because after all, 100 miles is crazy. I’m fully aware.

Through the second and final covered bridge (Lincoln) of the day at mile 40 took me towards the hardest climb yet up to Barr House. I had asked my buddy Tony Carino a week before for course knowledge (he ran a sub-20 in 2013) and he said everything was runnable until 70. I forgot to remind myself that Tony is a monster climber!!! I happily put my head down and hiked the steep pitch up until finally reaching an unmanned table with water and Gatorade – the sign that the climb was over.

By now, I had discarded my heart rate monitor. I was well into my groove so had no need to risk chafing my torso for some almost irrelevant heart rate readings going forward. As the sun was now up, my concern was more on staying cool with ice, hydrating smart and getting calories in constantly. My stomach pains were coming and going but now they were more to do with the running. Luckily, my palette was taking well to Honey Stinger waffles so I went through a good few of those which clocked up 160 calories each time. I knew by keeping some sort of food in my hand as much as possible, it would remind myself to keep grazing. As for now, this food plan was working like clockwork.

Walking out of Camp 10 Bear with words of encouragement from Tiffany and Rui.

Walking out of Camp 10 Bear with words of encouragement from Tiffany and Rui. Photo credit: Heidi Tanakatsubo

I arrived at Camp 10 Bear, mile 47 (the main aid station which doubled as mile 70 where I would pick up my first pacer later) expecting a carnage of people and cars, much like you get at Winfield in Leadville. But this was Vermont and although one of the major four 100 mile races in the States, this was not what I call a big aid station. The welcome and energy from other crews made it great regardless. I hopped on the scales and hoped to see no weight loss from my Friday medical. One pound up in fact. I blame those waffles!

Shy of halfway, all was going well. How did I know? Because I asked myself “How are you feeling?” and all that mattered was my answer to that question time and time again. My crew brought me lunch as we had discussed the importance of real food as much as possible. A toasted bacon and cheese panini sandwich with arugula. Remember tip 1 for new 100 mile runners? Get awesome crew! I took half of the sandwich with me, restocked the bag and rolled on. Tiffany and Rui checked in with me as they were more aware than me that I was moving well and well under the taboo time of sub-20 but I assured them I was running my own race and was feeling good. The sandwich was a challenge however. It took me well over an hour to eat it. My stomach could handle waffles but this was a different story. My body was beginning to fight back, that darn stomach of mine.

At the halfway point according to my GPS ‘during my lunch hour’ I caught up with Otto climbing up to Pinky’s. Otto is quite simply a nut job. He runs more 100’s than I run training runs and is incredibly funny, I just can’t figure out if he means to be funny! He was in shock to see me coming from behind when I welcomed myself. “What are you doing here?!” he said in shock seeing me behind him. Otto is famous in our ultra circle for starting out fast and crawling home, but always making it home. I don’t think he has ever quit any of his many races. My response was simply “What are you doing here?!” He then questioned the situation “Either you are slow today or I am doing something wrong”. We laughed about it and pushed on ahead wishing him luck, not that he needed it. He just needed to pace himself and would be on for 21-22 hours. I knew where I was too now. I was just over 9 hours on the clock and my mind started to drift ahead to a sub-18 goal. This was probably a bit suicidal but I knew I was in that mix, especially if I could get to my pacers feeling OK. I remembered my strategy quickly though going back to the present “How am I feeling?” and continued on up the hill.

Restocking at Seven Sees with the crew.

Restocking at Seven Sees with the crew. Photo credit: Heidi Tanakatsubo

At Pinky’s aid, I wasted no time passing a weary looking Kevin Shelton-Smith looking to feast on all the goodies to get out of his low. He had bombed off the front with Brian Rusiecki (the race favorite), something Kevin likes to do. I wasn’t just passing my friends from NYC though, I was clipping off new friends too and having great conversations or small talk with all of them from Megan running solo to Dave who I recognized from Western States last year to high-fiving Jimmy Dean who I had barely met a few hours earlier when we small talked about his podcast. I love the interaction in this sport because the respect for one another is honest and we truly care for each other out there no matter how much we want to beat the other to the line.

A long ascent got me to mile 58 and the Seven Sees aid. It was the last crew meet up before pacers as they would skip Margaritaville because Francis had to get ready to pace me back at Camp 10 Bear. I knew he of all people was sad to miss out on that aid station! As rumors had it, this pace was decked out to the nines and would be my number one place to volunteer at in the future. They turned me down for an ‘adult drink’, not because I didn’t have ID but because I was too early the volunteer told me! 38 miles with a margarita on board might not have made the most sense anyway.

Back on the scales at Camp 10 Bear. Photo credit: Heidi Tanakatsubo

Back on the scales at Camp 10 Bear. Photo credit: Heidi Tanakatsubo

I had definitely taken a cut back on my calorie intake the last 20 miles. My stomach was struggling to accept anything. What drove me forward with momentum was the excitement of getting to run with my pacers soon. Up and over a climb, I ran strong into Camp 10 Bear. At 70 miles, it was the furthest I had ever run solo (Tahoe 200 will have the same rule in effect). Back on the scales for the public weigh-in, I had now lost my one pound from mile 46 and was back to square one. Tiffany offered me the other half of the sandwich from lunch to which I almost vomited just thinking about real food. My stomach was definitely my weakest link. I pretended to myself this wasn’t an issue but I knew it was or would eventually be. With the sun going down, I decided to ditch the hat and neck bandana which had been my ice holders all day long in the sun. But I kept the pack on, kept the same shoes and socks on. I wanted to simulate Tahoe as much as possible.

30 miles to go, now with my trusty pacers. First up, Francis.

30 miles to go, now with my trusty pacers. First up, Francis. Photo credit: Heidi Tanakatsubo

Mile 75 and feeling good! Photo credit: Francis Laros

Mile 75 and feeling good! Photo credit: Francis Laros

My only change was a fresh shirt and I was set for Francis to be my companion for the next 7 miles. We had decided as group to flip pacers more than normal. Francis would get a 7 and a 6 mile leg (mostly uphill) and Rui would get a 12 mile stretch and the last 5 (both mostly down) suiting their strengths (Tiffany unfortunately just found out the week prior to the race, she has a serious hip injury so had to work the crew chief full-time shift. I know it was tough for her to be there around all these runners and not get to pace. She is a tough cookie and I’m so happy she could put on a brave face at a very frustrating time for her. She is amazing and I love her so much for everything she does for me.)

First off, we had what I was told was the hardest climb of the day back out of Camp 10 Bear. To be honest, I barely recall it. We talked easily and hiked efficiently. It was an absolute blast to have company and for those that don’t know Francis, his company and endless stories are second to none. With a couple of winding single track downhills thrown in to the section, we moved well. Francis was almost giggling to himself during one stretch because it was so effortless. My watch had long died since mile 60 so I was completely running by feel. He told me we clocked a 7:35 mile at one point. I did not believe him but he insisted it was true.

Entering Spirit of 76 aid after 7 fantastic miles with Francis.  Photo credit: Heidi Tanakatsubo

Entering Spirit of 76 aid after 7 fantastic miles with Francis. Photo credit: Heidi Tanakatsubo

A fifth and final climb took us over a road and up to the welcoming aid station of Spirit of 76. The volunteer at the top pretended to pull us up with some rope while we demanded to use the ski lift. All stupid stuff but it shows you how much fun we were having out there on Saturday night, now with over 76 miles in my legs.

Spirits are high at Spirit of 76.  Photo credit: Heidi Tanakatsubo

Spirits are high at Spirit of 76. Photo credit: Heidi Tanakatsubo

My buddy Jun was departing the aid station as I approached. We smiled and waved (it took me until the next day to realize he was running solo – no crew, no pacers, the same as Otto – RESPECT!). At every aid station, I really had two crews. Mine and Keila’s (Heidi, Benny and Denie) because she was always a few minutes behind since halfway. It was so great to have a handful of friends always there for me ready to do anything I needed. But no one got Francis’s Aquaphor job!

Rui’s turn and little did I know but this segment would be the hardest yet by a stretch. It was the old duo back together. Rui and me have great memories of bombing down Hope Pass two years ago, maybe too fast in reality and we were out to seek some more great downhills now. For the first five miles everything was working out that way, moving good, power hiking ups, never really walking anything. And then at mile 83 on a flat road, that all changed.

I felt my skin go pale, my head go faint and I started to stumble around with no energy whatsoever. My stomach hurt once again and almost immediatley I was dry heaving onto someone’s lawn (sorry!) with my fingers down my throat. There’s not anything much more painful than being sick I find. Unfortunately, because I had been failing to put solids in well the last 25 miles or so, I was failing to bring anything decent back up. Jimmy passed me by and gave me some encouragement, “suck it up bro” or similar words. It was kind of a blurry low in my race so forgive me for not remembering  it exact but I appreciated it. He was right, suck it up. This was really my first low of the race at mile 83. Not bad really!

I gingerly stood up, took a couple of deep breathes and then we continued. Really slowly at first. Rui insisted on me getting in some S-caps and i washed them down with Tailwind (it was the best I could do for calories at this point). Within minutes, I was back to running and we caught up to Jimmy and his pacer Scott. He was in a bit of shock to see me but we joked I was back from the dead! I explained to him while we ran as a group of four my last few hours of running. Amazingly, Jimmy completely nailed what had happened to me because it had happened to him before. By removing my cap and bandana full of ice (at Camp 10 Bear) because I deemed the evening time not necessary to use them anymore, I had begun to overheat. The humidity had very subtly got higher as the sun went down. He had ice-cold water in his bottle and I sprayed the back of my neck and felt the difference. Now I just had to get to Bill’s aid (88) and get the ice back on! We ran together for a couple of miles before I had to back off the pace again. But before I reached Bill’s, I noticed my insulin insert had fallen off my stomach due to the sweat and ice dripping down it all day long.

Our pace went back to a hike and I had to drag my ass to Bill’s having now, my second low point in the span of five miles. Rui put his headlamp on but I stubbornly refused. I had set a new goal to get to Bill’s headlamp free and did that although barely. I knew Rui was concerned but he kept me moving. At Bill’s, I wandered over to the medics at the barn and got on the scales. I was down to 176, a 4 pound loss. “How do you feel?” the medic asked me. It was a great question, one I must have been failing to ask of myself for a few miles now because I felt awful. My grumbled response of “OK. Tired” wasn’t my best ever performance of faking the good life but she understood. I was at mile 88, my weight was steady enough and so they let me go over to my crew to proceed.

I walked over to the crew area set up at a section of grass and decided enough was enough and  lay down on it. It was my first time off my feet in 88 miles. I had beaten my previous best of 80 miles at Western States.

My crew grabbed me hot noodle soup that I had been craving for about 7 miles now but was only available for the first time now. As they got my headlamp ready for me and some food into my backpack (just in case I could miraculously eat anything else for the last 12 miles) I checked my glucose which was now higher than planned due to the insert incidence. Perhaps another factor why I had probably had a really rough patch. I made some adjustments with my insulin, had yet another bathroom break and then I was back on the trail with Francis. It had been the longest aid stop by far today.

As soon as we left, my walking very slowly increased and Francis made it a point to tell me. After a half mile or so, we reached the next downhill and just like that, I began to run again. All the way down and then all the way back up to Polly’s aid (95), Francis kept me going strong. It was as if the sickness, the long aid station stop at Bill’s belonged to a different race. That’s the magic of ultra running right there. Those miles seemed so straight forward so soon after a chaotic five-mile stretch.

When we approached Tiffany and Rui for the last hand off, we already knew what we needed to do. Be efficient. Francis announced to them, this was going to be a quick aid stop. Blood test, refill of water and electrolyte drinks and go. It was all business mode again now and I caught Rui off guard by this turn of events.

No time to stop with 5 to go as Francis and Rui do a Garmin exchange.  Photo credit: Heidi Tanakatsubo

No time to stop with 5 to go as Francis and Rui do a Garmin exchange. Photo credit: Heidi Tanakatsubo

I looked over at Rui as we left the aid, realizing he was wearing three layers. “What are you wearing Rui?” I asked him puzzled. “Well, you looked pretty bad back there so I put some layers on”. You have to realize that Rui got given the last leg at Leadville too where we army marched 10 miles home between 4am and 8am in the freezing cold. He started to shed layers as it soon became apparent that we were about to kick the last 5 miles apart together pretty efficiently. I asked him where we were for time. I wanted to know if we were over or under the 20 hour goal time. He did the math and knew we had to run 14 minute miles to go under.

Running a gradual descent, this was exciting news. We were both so pumped, we knew it would take a real curve ball now to screw that up. And then, we came to the end of the road, looked left, looked right and couldn’t see anymore of the green glow sticks. We kind of just wandered around looking for them and then Rui told me to wait while he ran back the way we had come. I just stood in the dark and waited for what seemed a very long time……..”Come back!” I ran so hard back up that hill to find him by a huge arrow on the ground and two yellow plates ushering us off the road to the left. “Better make that 13 minute miles I guess?” I said to Rui. We both laughed our heads off and got moving.

We ran everything, yes everything all the way in. He pushed me home taking two more spots up the last big climb along the way. We weaved around single track the last half mile as hard as possible and then turned a last corner to see the red neon ‘finish line’ sign crossing it in 19 hours 37 minutes. A new 100 PR for me by almost 3 hours. Yes, a different course, temperature, terrain, I know all of that. What I was most happy with was to nail sub-20 without having that as my focal point all day long and getting caught up in the numbers. The plan had worked and worked really well. I also just found out this week that I beat a horse! A few dropped out so I won’t count those guys but I beat a horse on my own two feet!

19h 37 minutes, job done. Thanks to everyone in this picture a thousand times over. #VT1002014 Photo credit:  Heidi Tanakatsubo

19h 37 minutes, job done. Thanks to everyone in this picture a thousand times over. #VT1002014 Photo credit: Heidi Tanakatsubo

At the awards with Jimmy Deen Freeman (3 down, 3 to go for him, amazing!)

At the awards with Jimmy Dean Freeman (3 down, 3 to go for him, amazing!)

Work in Review and Looking Ahead

I asked myself at mile 99, could I keep running if I had to (thinking ahead to Tahoe 200) and I’m pleased to say with confidence, the answer was most definitely yes. I wanted to finish the race tired but not screaming for medical treatment and I achieved that fine line of effort perfectly. Overall, I was very satisfied with the whole race. Tiffany, Francis and Rui were outstanding. Their support and care for me is impossible to repay but I’ll try my hardest too. I am forever grateful to them.

I know where I made mistakes but I also know where I made good decisions, solved problems and ran smart. I will use all of this information to my advantage in a few weeks time. Excited to go beyond the 100 mile mark and explore a new chapter in my ultra running journey. Thank you all for your love and support. Roll on Tahoe 200!

My third 100 mile buckle and bib for the archives. I can happily call VT100 a success.

My third 100 mile buckle and bib for the archives. I can happily call VT100 a success.

Sunday Funday – A Mild Sprain To Benefit JDRF

4.25 miles of twists and turns to raise vital funds for JDRF.

A full 24 hours after my 50K at Kettletown, I found myself with another bib attached to my shorts.  This time, myself and fellow NY teammate, Matt Patrick were kindly invited to represent Team Novo Nordisk at a special local trail race held at Sprain Ridge Park, Yonkers, NY (note the race name). Race directors and general good guys; Dave Vogel and Brant Brooks, were putting on a 4.25 trail race for the third year but what makes the race special are the reasons behind the race. Taken from their website;

“All net proceeds go to JDRF whose mission is to find a cure for type 1 diabetes and its complications through the support of research.

The 4.25-ish mile course is a great fun test of trail running…..it has some great climb, fun downhill, single track, switchbacks, along with plenty of rocks and logs to navigate…”

A tight squeeze but somehow Dave and Brant mange to find 4.25 miles of trails in here!

A tight squeeze but somehow Dave and Brant manage to find 4.25 miles of trails in here!

Knowing it would be a crazy idea to run the race as a race, I decided to do just that after going back and forth on the idea all morning. (Somehow, I had managed to convince myself running 4 miles hard was a good idea to incorporate into a 16 easy day!) I took off with some young pups and local elites and charged up a hill with Matt. “How are you feeling?” inquired Matt. “Like I just ran a 50K yesterday!” was my response.
Sprint start to get to the trail head!

A sprint start to get to the trail head! Photo credit: Leatherman’s Loop

Before long, we were on single track meant for mountain bikers, jumping up and over large rocks and branches and weaving back and forth on S-bends. I was in the mix of the top ten for most of the race and managed to charge up a few more places in the last mile although I was pretty spent. The banner at halfway saying “almost done” was not helpful!
Home stretch in 7th.

Home stretch in 7th. Photo credit: Leatherman’s Loop

Both myself and Matt ended up in the top 10. I came in 7th and surprisingly won my AG and Matt took 10th. We then got to take the stage at the awards and talk about the team and what we are all about. Matt ‘threw me under the bus’ calling me out for being crazy and training for 200 miles which definitely got some jaws to drop and we handed out some TNN swag to the kids with T1D that also ran the race. Sunday Funday, it sure was.
Age group winner! (I had no idea - cool bonus)

Age group winner! (I had no idea, cool bonus).  Photo credit: Leatherman’s Loop

A great day for trail running and raising almost $100,000 for JDRF. We even scored Salomon trucker hats for being good sports from elite runner Glen Redpath (Top 10 Western States 100  runner extraordinaire). Thanks Glen!
matt gets pink hat 2

Glen handing out some Salomon trucker hats. The short straw definitely went to Matty P!  Photo credit: Leatherman’s Loop

These guys! We placed in the Top 10 today at #AMildSprain #trail race benefiting #JDRF. Team Novo Nordisk represented. Thanks Dave Vogel (RD) for the invite to talk about the team and #diabetes. @salomonrunning trucker hats thanks to Glen Redpath! — with Matt Patrick at Sprain Ridge Park.

These guys! We placed in the Top 10 today at #AMildSprain #trail race benefiting #JDRF. Team Novo Nordisk represented. Thanks Dave Vogel for the invite to talk about the team and #diabetes. @salomonrunning trucker hats thanks to Glen Redpath! — with Matt Patrick at Sprain Ridge Park.

10K PR’s, Trails and More…Trails.

LOGO

I had to research Athlinks.com to remind myself what 10K races I had done in the past (there were not many). My 10K PR has stood from a New Year’s trail race in Virginia back in 2011 with 39 minutes and change. Other races I had run but actually forgotten about included the British 10K 2009 and a Central Park course,  the Joe Kleinerman from 2008 (one of my first races in the States).

I decided that this year would be as good as any to sign up for another 10K and PR. There aren’t many distances these days where I can say that with full confidence. My rationale is this. I’ve run countless half-marathons and marathons where I’ve noted the 10K time clock and realized ‘that’s better than my 10K PR’. . In order to keep this running goal simple and cost-effective, I picked a New York Road Runners (NYRR) race. Hear me out!

The NYRR UAE Healthy Kidney 10K was 1) a stones throw from my doorstep 2) on a course I know inside and out 3) one of the biggest 10Ks in the world (biggest prize money at least). Note: my chances of leaving the day with some winnings were less than slim.

With my race calendar all but full in May, I was lucky that this race fit into my one and only non-race weekend. A slight modification to my Tahoe 200 training meant I would no longer be running back to back 26 milers over the weekend but instead, a 10K race with 14 trail miles in the afternoon and 26 more on Sunday. Either way, it was lined up for my biggest weekend of running in 2014.

The goal of racing was primarily just to PR but I wanted a time goal to break as well. A sub-37 equaled 5:57 pace and sub-36 equaled 5:47 pace. I thought about the toll on my body from Boston and Bear Mountain of recent weeks (plus the serious lack of 10K training!) so sub-37 seemed the smarter bar to reach for. Even that may have been too much. Did I definitely have sub-6 minute legs on me at this time of my training? This was all part of the fun to go and find out!

May 10th AM – 10K Race, Central Park, NY

Being at home less an hour before the start was no doubt a strange feeling. I’m used to being in a hotel room, cabin or tent somewhere across the country. An NYC race is just not my primary go to anymore, perhaps because I’ve done most of the NYRR racing scene, maybe more so because I just love to travel so much. I tested my morning glucose and all was good in the mid 100’s looking ideal for pre-run numbers.

At the start with Nike RUNNYC friends Jeff Blum and Michael Chu

At the start with Nike RUNNYC friends Jeff Blum and Michael Chu

Once at the start, I checked my glucose one last time (I recall this my fourth test in two hours) before dropping off my bag and saw it had dropped below 100. With the race minutes away, all I had on me was my two Honey Stinger gels that I planned to carry during the race. I took both of them which was slightly honey overload. I luckily managed to snag a sip of water from a random runner who just happened to be a fellow Brit, Richard who had come across the pond for the race.

I squeezed my way to about four rows back from the elite field of Kenyans and Ethiopians. Looking at their physique up close is always a reality check why people like me will never be able to run 4:30 miles. Thank goodness for people like Phidippides and Gordy who pioneered the long stuff!  My plan today would be 6-minute flat for the first three and go from there. Worst scenario that I felt terrible, I would hang onto that  pace for the second 5K but best case, I planned to push on down to 5:50’s or less to run home strong and take some places on the way.

Mad dash out of the gate.

Mad dash out of the gate. Photo credit: NYRR

After many typical NYRR speeches, we were off. Some runners sprinted ahead of me as if it was a mile race. I ignored the mayhem and found my pace as we ran past the boathouse on our left. Going up Cat Hill, I knew the incline would keep my pace honest so clocking a 5:48 wasn’t what I expected. Adrenaline does some crazy stuff to your body I guess, plan out of the window!

Mile 2 was flat through Engineer’s Gate and Fred Lebow’ and then snaked gradually downhill to the top of the transverse. I run this section of the park for mile repeats so I knew holding back to 6 here didn’t seem to make much sense. If the road gives it to you, take it right? Mile 2; 5:45. At this point my mind began fast forwarding to just keep going and chase down sub-36 after all.

We wrapped around the top of the park and up Harlem hill. Lots of runners began coming back to me. At the top of the hill the 5K marker read 18:09. I stopped believing that sub-36 was on the cards at this point. Not without killing myself at least and with another 40 miles to log for the weekend, my Tahoe part of my brain said no way, not worth it.

Mile 4 over the three west side hills kept my pace consistent with the last; dropping. I had just run two 6-minute miles and change. The pain was now kicking in, reminding me that’s why I probably should have run 6-minute miles at the start. But I had to stop obsessing over data, just run.

Being one of the biggest 10K races, I never had any concern that someone would not be in front of me. A few hundred yards ahead was a female runner in orange and a male runner in neon. My new focus was to not let them break away from me. I counted lamp posts to monitor the gap. It remained steady as we descended the fast descent on the west side of the park, the goal was being achieved. I wanted to glance at the watch as I was so curious what pace we were doing but resisted.

Passed the Webster statue on 72nd Street, I climbed the short hill to be greeted by Francis and Justin who were out pacing the Nike Run Club group. That was great motivation to keep pushing. On the descent to the Columbus Circle corner, I finally closed the gap on the female runner to make my move. With a mile to go, I still had a small shot at catching the other runner.

Pushing the last mile

Pushing the last mile. Photo credit; MarathonFoto

The final mile is much of a blur to me. It was an all out effort to catch him. A simple duel for a nothing place but he served a purpose for me and hopefully I did for him too. At 800 meters to go, the metal fences formed either side of the road and ushered us home. I got excited that this was it, the last moments of full exertion where now here.

But I could not close the gap. My heart was pumping my blood around as fast as it could and it felt as thought the chance just wasn’t going to come. But then on the short descent before veering left onto the 72nd Street home straight, I found a gear I didn’t think was there (and maybe nor did he). I made my move with purpose, now or never stuff. 400 to go now meant 400 to hang on, 400 to celebrate a great 10K race.

Nothing left to give. PR looming.

Nothing left to give. PR looming. Photo credit; MarathonFoto

I was able to take the final strides to the line alone crossing the line in 36 minutes and twenty something (5:51 average pace), good enough for a top 50 spot in a very competitive field. Wow, I almost went under 36 was my first reaction. Mary Wittenberg greeted me at the finish and my second reaction was directed towards her saying “This is why I don’t run the short stuff!”

New PR 36:23. No more 10K's for a while!

New PR 36:23. No more 10K’s for a while! Photo credit: MarathonFoto

I congratulated the runner who followed me in and apologized for my late burst of speed to nick a spot. He recognized the Team Novo Nordisk shirt and asked if I was a type 1 diabetic. We got into a conversation about the team and he said he was also a T1. I didn’t know who he was until today but now I was intrigued. Arjay Jensen was his name from Greater New York Running Club. We parted ways after collecting some very nice medals and I said I would be in touch. Pretty cool to have two type 1’s running hard out there at the front of the race from almost 8,000 runners. We didn’t even know we had more in common than the same speed until we were done dueling.

Once I escaped from the finish area frenzy, I finally noticed how drenched I was in sweat. It hadn’t occurred to me how humid it was although I did know the index reading was going to be around 90% for the race. Now standing still, I could feel the heat. At least it wasn’t a distraction out on the course for me. Nothing really was. I just ran my very well-known Central Park loop and came away with a result I was more than happy with. A PR by almost three minutes deserves no picking at!

10K medal bonus. My first NYC race for Team Novo Nordisk went better than planned!

10K medal bonus. My first NYC race for Team Novo Nordisk went better than planned!

May 10th PM – 14+ trail miles – Mohonk Preserve State Park, NY

I grabbed my stuff and had to go. I was now on a mission to meet up with Tiffany to get to Mohonk to run 14 trail miles to complete the day. To me this seemed quite normal but when I bumped into my new English friend at the end and begun small talking about my afternoon plans, I could tell from his reaction, my running behavior is far from that. I forget that a lot because to me, it is normal life. Work, sleep, run and then run some more.

At the Mohonk Preserve State Park having a quick photo break with Tiffany.

At the Mohonk Preserve State Park having a quick photo break with Tiffany.

Shawangunk Ridge view from the Mohonk Preserve tower is worth the climb.

Shawangunk Ridge view from the Mohonk Preserve tower is worth the climb.

After just a few hours since the race, I was back on my feet running the hills of the Mohonk Preserve State Park, a great place to get some good non-technical trail miles in. My legs felt great which was good feedback on Tahoe training so far. We took a “scenic” route back to New Paltz meaning I got to do another climb and tag on two bonus miles just in time before the heavens opened.

May 11th – 26 trail miles Manitou to Tuxedo, NY via Appalachian Trail

On Sunday, I tackled a technical section of Appalachian Trail from Manitou to Tuxedo train station solo. 26 miles with over 5,000ft of vertical. A day removed from Saturday’s adventures, my legs did begin to feel tired and this was a great test but it was just so great being outside once again exploring the wilderness of Bear and Harriman and enjoying the weather.

Following the white dashes (Appalachian Trail) for 22 of my 26 miles.

Following the white dashes (Appalachian Trail) for 22 of my 26 miles.

Last few miles of the weekend - finally getting tired!

Last few miles of the weekend running the technical AT – finally getting tired!

What a great way to spend the weekend, logging miles and exploring parts of New York most people do not. 46+ mile weekends will be a staple for me. Tahoe training is officially in full swing and to have a new 10K PR in the bag was just icing on cake to another great running weekend.

Humanity Prevails; The 118th Boston Marathon

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Unique Boston wristbands cut from the flags of the 2013 race and heart tattoos given to every single one of the 36,000+ runners was a nice touch by the BAA.

Running Boston is special. But getting to run the 118th Boston, a year removed from the tragedy that shocked the world and brought everyone that much closer was on a completely different level. Everybody wanted to be part of this and I was one of the lucky ones that would.

Pre-Race

Boylston Street - a beautiful Saturday afternoon with a great atmosphere.

Boylston Street – a beautiful Saturday afternoon with a great atmosphere.

I spent much of the weekend build up hanging outside in the glorious sunshine along the finish line of Boylston Street and the restaurants and shops of Newbury Street. I was with my teammates Benny and Matt, lots of New York running friends and my sister, who had flown all the way over from Holland! The atmosphere was amazing. Everyone knew this year was special and had a particular viewpoint on it. Whether it was “Boston Strong”, “Taking back the Finish Line” or just peace. For me, the race was to celebrate humanity, to celebrate good people in this world.

Matt, myself and Benny from Team Novo Nordisk before our JDRF event.

Matt, myself and Benny from Team Novo Nordisk before our JDRF event.

Talking of good people, on Saturday night, our team were invited to speak at the JDRF runners (and families) dinner party in celebration of their training and fundraising efforts towards a cure for type 1 diabetes. We told our stories of diagnosis, of our passion for running and about what our team stands for. It was a really awesome event. Although we were invited to be the inspiration, we left knowing we had met some truly inspirational people as well. Runners who ran for their partner, child and even neighbor’s child, the range of people and why they had a passion to raise money for diabetes was very broad. Amazing!

Race Day

Boston!

Boston!

As per usual I beat my alarm and was up at 5:20am. My blood glucose was in the high 100’s but I was fine with this. As myself and Benny had been discussing the previous night at our Italian dinner, “carb up and don’t go low.” All my racing gear was carefully placed by the bed to throw on without disturbing Tiffany too much. Benny and myself met up with Matt easily enough at security check point number 5 as specifically instructed by the folks at BAA. They had allowed us to take medical bags to the start village in Hopkinton which was a huge plus. When the no bag rules was announced, I was disheartened thinking the bad guys had won. But BAA understood and respected our need to test our blood glucose levels frequently and as close to the start of the race as possible.

On the long bus ride out of the city to Hopkinton,  I usually throw on the headphones and put my head down to drown out the chatter of excited runners but this year was different. We laughed and joked together all the way there. It was great, I felt relaxed and was enjoying every minute of it. Plus it was a Monday!

I ate precisely two hours before the start in the athlete village after getting a perfect glucose reading. Because we had been so punctual getting out to there, we were able to grab some grass space in the sunshine and just chill out for an hour or so. Grass space in the sun was top-notch real estate so things were going really well! At 9am, it was time to begin the long walk to the start so we dropped off our medical bags with some staff members. My final reading was slightly higher than target but not a huge concern for me. I handed my full bottle of Gatorade to the volunteer that was helping me out with the bag. He was grateful for it and I was grateful to be able to drop off a medical bag. It was that kind of friendly atmosphere everywhere you turned. These kind of interactions were I guess, why I sub-consciously wanted to come back. To have good memories of Boston once more.

Pre-Race: Steve Lee, Rui, Keila, myslef and Benny all about to start in Wave 1.

Pre-Race: Steve Lee, Rui, Keila, myself and Benny all about to start in Wave 1.

I wished Matt and Benny the best of luck and jumped in the back of corral 2 which was approximately 2,000th place. My plan was to not run the first six downhill miles hard, just to run relaxed and behind goal pace. In the middle section, miles 6-16 hit goal pace or slightly faster, miles 16-21 maintain the same effort through Newton hills but drop the pace down and then push hard for home from there.

Start of the historic 118th Boston.

Start of the historic 118th Boston.

The gun fired and about a minute later, I had officially crossed the start line mats, tapped start on my watch and begun running. I was feeling ridiculously nervous those first few miles, almost feeling like I could have passed out which was so strange for me. I had put a lot of pressure on myself to race well and maybe I just needed to cut out the noise and just run. At the 5K marker, I clocked 20 minutes exact which was slightly slower than I had planned for but at least I was holding back. That was the plan after all (my two previous races here, I had run too fast in the first half and paid heavily for such naiveness later on at the hills and beyond).

Once the main descending was over after mile 6, I got into goal pace of 6:18, sometimes faster and this brought me through halfway at 1:23; 30 seconds behind target. I had caught and passed a few Nike NYC runners; Matt, Joe and Kwabs over the first 13.1 but what reassured me the most about starting slow and then speeding up was being passed by Chris Solarz around mile 6. Knowing the time he was shooting for and the fact that he had started behind me, assured me my tactics were correct (little did I know that he got start in corral 5 at the start and had spent much of his early miles weaving around to get up to speed).

But while my time goal was fractionally off and not alarming me, the way my body felt was. I was more tired than I wanted to be and now I had to do the distance all over again, at a slightly faster pace with the Newton hills bang in the middle of it all to boot. Pros seem to negative split this course, now it was my turn.

Other than the minor aches, the sun’s rays were becoming a greater issue now. Sitting in Hopkinton killing time, the sun had felt nice at 8am but now it was approaching noon, and my appreciation for it was diminishing. Without a cloud in the sky and no shade on this course, the heat was now playing a role just like the Newton hills always guarantee to do. Although I had managed a handful of hot runs in Mexico recently, the bulk of my training was run in three or four layers in and out of snowstorms from one of my worst New York winters I’ve experienced. The high was 66 yet it felt much warmer than that (I found out later, feel factor put it at 77). These were the hills I did not see coming.

Mile 15.5 controlling the long downhill before Newton hills would begin.

Mile 15.5 controlling the long downhill before Newton hills would begin. Photo credit: Kino

I churned on with my just faster than marathon pace, seeing some of the now familiar faces of the JDRF family on the streets, which gave me a nice lift. I knocked out a cheeky sub-6 downhill mile 16 just before the first Newton hill where I saw Kino and Ken Tom in their usual spot taking photos and cheering on everyone (because they know everyone!). The mile split was a bit too much but I knew I was chasing the clock after halfway and felt an urge to close the time gap while I was still going down.

I turned right and saw the famous site of the first of four climbs. I approached it with determination that it would not slow me down. I would monitor my pace, reduced my stride and take some places from runners that had over exerted themselves on the first 16. The crowd was ferocious here. Think about it. This was mile 16 in the middle of a sleepy town called Newton and it was packed on both sides of the road. Noise I have never heard during a Boston marathon before.

I locked in 6:30 pace up the hill, recalling that was an ideal pace to run each of the hills at for a 2:45 marathon. Before I knew it, I was up the first one and had passed many runners in the process. I mention this because I’m used to being the one getting passed and spat out the back around now from previous painful Boston’s.

We got a long flat break now through the Powerade gel hand out section. Not that I wanted one but it did make me alert to reach for my third and final Honey Stinger gel. I had been switching between Gatorade and water at every aid station and consumed two gels as well at 7 and 14 miles. From what I could tell, glucose control was 100% in check.

The second climb was really a sneaky double with a mini break, almost time to recover but not quite which is like the westside hills of Central Park from 102nd Street heading south. But this was mile 17 of a race, of Boston. I took on the climb with the same plan, same biomechanics and then the same result. I was now 19 miles in, just Heartbreak to go. Without wearing a wristband full of data splits to look at, I gauged I was in a good shape to PR but it would be close. The aches in my legs were revealing themselves to me as the sweat from my forehead and torso increased evermore. My body was fighting off the pain as best it could.

pre-heartbreak hill

Not Heartbreak Hill. Photo credit: Mike Toma

And then sooner than I anticipated, I stood at the bottom of Heartbreak hill. Arms pumping, legs driving, the pistons were all at full steam for this last push. It was a lot of work and I wasn’t trying to hide it from anyone. I saw Mike, Benny and Rhonda from the Westside Y to my right and then another hundred meters later, it was all over.  I went down the other side rapidly. Wow, that was so much easier than ever before I thought to myself.

I joined a small posse of runners going downhill as we pushed on knowing now was the time to run as near to 6-minute pace as possible, this was after all the fastest mile of the course other than mile 1. The road veered left and the crowd increased. I locked my eyes on the Heartbreak Hill Running store sign and then it all came back to me. Heartbreak hill was about to begin.

Even running this course for my fourth time, I got confused what hill was what and how many there were. So for the record, what I used to believe to be three hills in Boston became four but now I will not forget, there are actually five! So, without any other option, I went at it again although this time I knew this was most definitely Heartbreak. The last and of course biggest hill left. 600 meters over a gradual grade sounds very straight forward. But it’s the timing of the hill, the miles and miles of subtle downhill strides which now play a big role in why this hill is so tough.

I watched a guy in neon yellow go passed me and almost let him go before realizing that he was my ticket. He was going the pace I should have been going so I clawed him back in and worked off him all the way up no matter how much it hurt me to do so. Once up on top, it hit me how tired I was. I just had 5 miles left. It all sounds so simple typing it or maybe even reading it but my body was in serious breakdown mode. Did heartbreak break me? Did it add me to the list of many?

Passing the crew before mile 22.

Passing the crew before mile 22.

I passed Tiffany, my Sis, Beck and others who were all going nuts for me. It was incredibly awesome to have that much love shout at you in over the course of a few seconds and I wish I could have given them a more positive smile or thumbs up but I was in trouble. Tiffany sensed it both there in that moment and because she had been tracking my pace through every 5K split on the app. We both talked in detail about the game plan and knew the last 5 miles would call for a perfect home stretch push. She encouraged me as best she could to pick it up.

My brain took in the words of good coaching but the quads were now screaming for it all to just end. Downhill I clocked a decent 6:20 but I would have to go faster. I knew that mile should have been a flat-6. The next mile flipped up on my watch and I recall seeing it as a 7 minute pace or something that close. This was where my brain took the first exit. I calculated what was required and it was literally impossible to do that now without help, without a T-rex chasing me, without something. I can’t fully explain why, but I knew it was over and I couldn’t fight back after seeing that split and feeling as bad as I felt. I had completely forgotten the lesson of Martha’s Vineyard 20 Miler when a bad mile there, did me in as well.

Every next mile seemed so far away. The famous Citgo sign just never seemed to get bigger and it took all my heart to not stop and take a walk break down the long straight never-ending road. I have to thank the crowds 100% for that. Runners left and right were doing just that, either because they were cramping up or just smoked but I somehow managed to refuse this option. I think I was honestly too scared of getting screamed out (in a very nice kind of way) to keep on going!

I turned my mind to the possibility of running my fastest Boston time now that the 2:45 PR had long but faded away but as I made the famous last left turn onto Bolyston and saw just how far the finish line was  from my location, I knew only an insane sprint and quite possibly a wheelchair to greet me would have given me even a slim chance of turning that into a mini-success ending. I decided against this option which is not a normal choice for me. I decided instead to stop for a second at the sight of the first bomb last year outside Marathon Sports and wave to the crowd to thank them for coming back too and standing there being Boston Strong. I walked across the line in just over 2:49 and sunk to my knees. It was over. What an emotional race.

Post-Race

I tried to walk but was physically destroyed from the course and mentally heartbroken that I did not run the race I had trained for. I felt like I had let a lot of people down. I staggered away but eventually gave in to the volunteer help down the finish chute and asked to go to the medical tent to test my blood. My levels were actually perfect for post-race which showed I had once again managed my carbohydrate intake either via Gatorade or by Honey Stinger gels perfectly. What I had not done, was drink enough water on top as I had lost a fair bit of weight in the surprising heat and that’s probably why I felt faint. But like many others, this was just another part of what makes marathon running a challenge.

The physician who looked after me was called Meghan. Once I was ready to leave medical, she placed my medal in my hand with the ribbon neatly folded up around it and we hugged. It was so powerful because she was exactly the sort of person that was taking care of far more serous medical issues a year ago right here. I will never forget that moment.

Me and my Sis post-race at South Street Seaport.

Me and my Sis post-race at South Street Seaport.

Initially, I was very down due to my sub-par performance. I knew I was in 2:45 shape so I hung my head low walking towards Boston Common to collect my bags, still with medal in hand. Hours later, my sister Helen told me to be proud because she was as well as all my friends. She put the medal around my neck for the first time and it sunk in that my time or sadness was not really that relevant to the occasion.

I came back a year later to run this course once more to stand up to evil in this world, to showcase the spirit of the marathon and the strength of this great city, famously now phrased as “Boston Strong”. The 118th Boston Marathon was always meant to be something so much bigger than me or my time or any individual runner.  I even include Meb in that statement as much as his victory was amazing! I guess I will have to keep chasing that darn unicorn because ultimately I love the Boston Marathon. One day, I will get this course right and there is no doubt in my mind, I will fully appreciate it.

The prizes for the effort. Boston Runs as One official shirt and the 118th Boston finisher's medal.

The prizes for the effort. Boston Runs as One official shirt and the 118th Boston finisher’s medal.

The Mental Game at Martha’s Vineyard

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No weenies allowed on the island!

My adventures on the summer vacation island of Martha’s Vineyard have always occurred in winter. That doesn’t make much sense to most people until you throw in the details of what has become an annual trip for me. A fairly unique 20 mile road race occurs here every President’s Day Weekend and it serves as a great test race for those training for the Boston Marathon.

My first trip here begun a day after finding out about my uncle’s loss to cancer in 2012 and it was the most therapeutic weekend escape I could have wished for with my friends. We returned again last year and I raced to 4th place.

Target #3

Target #3 for the weekend.

This year, my third consecutive, I would have somewhat of a dart on my back or should I say bib. I received my race packet in the mail and saw my number 3 bib. I don’t recall ever having a lower bib ever. My brain started churning ideas about what this meant being seeded. Third place was obviously not returning from last year and so I couldn’t help but start to set my hopes on a very potential podium place, maybe even a win if I got lucky?

But like any race, it all comes down to who shows up and who stays away. I quit the daydreaming on Friday upon hearing the previous year’s winner was returning. I refocused my attention on my ability and what I could do. OK, maybe still being able to grab 2nd place didn’t quite escape my consciousness. Last year, my average pace was 6:13 although I fell apart in the last few miles to give up 2nd and 3rd. I refused to make the same mistake again this year but I wanted to match and ultimately better that pace.

I went into Saturday’s race with a different plan; hold back. I broke the 20 miles down into three parts just like I would do for a marathon. The plan was 8 easy, 8 focused and 4 with the heart (as coach Jack Daniel’s would put it). If I averaged 6:15’s early on, I would be able to accelerate my pace later and pick off runners in the latter miles. It was a new type of racing strategy for me, one that required a lot of mental toughness.

Checking the forecast the morning of the race, I was thankful to see clear skies and a delayed snowstorm in the hourly details. I changed clothes from tights to shorts on the 45 minute ferry across from Cape Cod trying to make the best choice with the high-30’s weather. At the start area, I changed my socks from ankle to compression ones for warmth over anything else. I have given up believing they can give you an edge during performance. What I did believe was, I was being very indecisive and twitchy! My glucose was set perfectly in place at 184 and I was ready to see how my winter training had been going.

I peeled off my Novo hoodie and sweats and gave them to Tiffany and joined the second row of runners trying to blend into the ‘not so keen but still keen’ starters area. I bumped into Kieran Conlon, a fellow ex-pat and familiar face from last year. We had a good duel last year but today was a year on, a fresh race for both of us.

Start of the race leaving the ferry port at Vineyard Haven. Photo credit: Tiffany Carson

Start of the race leaving the ferry port at Vineyard Haven. Photo credit: Tiffany Carson

The gun went off and almost 400 of us headed east towards the north-eastern tip of the island; Oaks Bluff. I immediately checked my watch after the first straight and saw 6:01  so backed off. I reminded myself of the plan; hold back. 20 miles would sort out the true speedsters from the wannabes.

We climbed over the metal bridge and I did a head count in front. I lay in 10th ignoring the speedy couple who a few of us had figured out were a relay duo (10 miles each – although the male was running all 20). Kieran and another guy came by my side and we small talked. We agreed to ignore the pace up ahead as a volunteer called out “6:19” for  us at mile 1.

We ran along the shore line into a slight head wind. I tucked in the best I could behind two taller runners. The sky was blue and it was turning out to be a better day than I had I envisioned. Climbing up and around East Chop lighthouse at Oaks Bluff and then descending the other side by coastal lined beach homes was as always beautiful. I imagined summer time here. One day I will experience this island in peak season without a race! We crunched shells along the harbor boardwalk with the pace steady at 6:20’s. I grabbed my first gel that I had tucked in my glove to keep warm just before I approached the aid station. Knowing the course inside out, made these decisions easier to make. My glucose felt fine but I was wary of not waiting too long to get the first one in the system.

Holding steady through Oaks Bluff. Photo credit: Tiffany Carson.

Holding steady through Oaks Bluff. Kieran Conlon (front right). Photo credit: Tiffany Carson.

I saw Tiffany just beyond 4 miles as we made a triangular-shaped route around Ocean Park. I had dropped some places, I recall 15th or 16th but wasn’t concerned by my placing yet. My pace was where I wanted it to be.

The only out and back section followed which gave me a good look at runners ahead. The leader had a big gap. He was the winner from 2013 and already looked untouchable as  he did last year. The next runners were red, blue and red. I wanted to remember their colors as I was confident I would see them all again when it mattered.

Heading south again came my favorite stretch of the course. Seaview Avenue is a long stretch of road down to the turn at mile 9. After running past the golf course, the strip of road is in the middle of the ocean to our left and Sengekontacket Pond (try saying that on Saturday night) to the right. The snow was much more sparse up here than back in New York which I did not expect. The roads were in good condition with patches of sand on them and although there was a bike path to use, we all decided to run on the road as it was safer which seemed ironic.

I popped my second gel at mile 6 and grabbed water from a volunteer, most of which landed on the ground so I grabbed a second one, the last one in the row of stretched out arms and in doing so, heard a groan behind me.

I turned and apologized seeing I had two runners on my heels. I offered my cup up immediately but he declined. So far, two gels and some water.  I was treating my gels like they would be enough quick carbohydrates to keep my glucose in check but this was 20 miles at supposedly faster than marathon pace. I have nailed my carbohydrate strategy down at the marathon distance, always grabbing Gatorade at every other aid station. If I kept up my current gel only routine, I would be out of gels by mile 12 and relying on Tiffany to give me spares every few miles which we didn’t really plan for. I made it an immediate decision to grab Gatorade at the next aid station and get more carbs on board.

I approached mile 10 as I gained but never did pass the relay couple. Tiffany yelled “start picking them off” as she held out more gels for me to grab. Now carrying four again, I was pretty confident I would not be going on the lower side of my glucose range for the second half of the race.

A digital clock stood by the halfway mat and read ’01:02:45.’ After feeling good for 10 miles holding back and running some good 6:10-20 splits, the time I saw crushed me a little. My ‘hold back’ plan would call for a negative split so I wasn’t quite sure why I was feeling so dejected. Maybe, I knew that 10 miles faster than what I had just done was not quite in me today. I was beginning to have a hard time mentally believing I could pull off a 2:03 or 2:04 time going off how I felt.

I sped through the lively aid station manned by one of the many boys and girls clubs of Martha’s Vineyard and just for a few strides felt my energy lift. I sat in 13th and knew it was time to start seeing some runners come back to me. A long stretch of rollers lay ahead along the bike path on the left and then the right side of the road. As I approached mile 12, I finally reeled one of them in clocking a 6:09 mile. Up to 12th and I didn’t hang around to let him tag along with another fast mile of 6:10 I picked off one more. The plan was in motion.

I wound around a bend to a smaller aid station at 13 and got cheered on to my first “Go Team Novo Nordisk” of the year. I heard the woman tell her friends that I was diabetic. I thought in my head, spread the word! I got a kick out of knowing she knew about the team.

Down a rare steep descent, I used gravity to give me some speed. But now, the pain in my legs was building, soreness, tightness all happening at once quickly. I promised myself to start drinking more water every day, get more sleep, heck, eat more vegetables, anything to not feel this pain! My pace was slipping back. My last split was 6:15, not 6:09-10’s anymore. I nervously peeked on the mile beep and saw 6:37. Not good. I looked straight ahead and saw a tiny dot in the distance, my next target. But he faded out of sight soon enough. My focus miles were quickly getting very blurry.

The beginning of the end at Mile 14. Photo credit: Tiffany Carson.

Fire Danger: LOW. A different low was happening at Mile 14. Photo credit: Tiffany Carson

Just as my legs were failing me, now so was my head. I kept at it but my feet felt like they were running across sand. At a cross-section to turn right, Tiffany stood and could see my pain. “3 minute gap” she said talking about 2nd place. I had 10K left to close that  gap, feeling like this? Forget it.

And it continued to get worse as I lost the two places I had earlier taken. I had churned out two more slow miles through 17 and now sat in unlucky 13th spot. But I wasn’t unlucky. This had happened to me because of a lack of focus. My training has been solid (minus all of our snowstorms) and my glucose levels were fine. I had simply lost focus. I felt defeated. This was not like me.

I passed Tiffany again and gave her a look to say ‘not my day’. So when she pulled alongside me in the car moments later, the words she chose “catch the guy ahead” were all I needed to hear to spark the light to redeem myself for a race that was going in the wrong direction. The basic notion to catch the next guy ahead of me was lost on me before I heard the words out loud from Tiffany. My head had been only thinking of negative thoughts; why did my legs hurt? Why was I running slower than last year? Why was I 13th? None of these questions I asked myself were doing me any good but the words ‘catch the guy ahead’ were simple and perhaps tangible.

The ‘guy’ ahead was oblivious to my mission. He had just passed me a mile ago with pure ease. He knew I was toast as he went by. I had failed to run well between 15-17 because I was not focused on those individual miles. I had just over two miles to go, to work as hard as possible and make the guy ahead truly earn beating me.

Immediately the rolling hills of the last stretch begun. I had miraculously changed gears  as if my brain just flipped a switch in my legs to turn the power back on. I could tell he had no idea I was making a move. On the uphill, I glanced and saw the mile 18 marker and was relieved it wasn’t mile 19. It gave me more time to catch him. Yes, my brain was happy I got to run more miles! As we descended the other side of the hill, a family cheered at the end of their driveway for him and then moments later, me. And now he knew I was coming.

The next climb came quickly. This one, longer but with less grade than before. I ran it like the finish line was on the top. The gap between us was reducing but it was gradual. Down the other side, I saw three more runners come into view. The guy who passed me at 14 was closing in on a pair both wearing red working together. And just like that it was game on to see if I had enough left to catch more than just one runner. Back from the dead almost.

I had all four of them in my view but only a mile and a quarter to try to make a convincing move. I broke it down in my head as  5x 400 meter laps at all out pace. Just to catch the closest guy would have been satisfying but he was now pushing on again as he had witnessed the same scenario as me and got hungry to take some places too!

This scenario played out in Ohio last November and I regretted not fighting harder to stay close to the guy ahead closing a gap on the next runner with a mile left. I refused to let that happen again here. The worst that could happen was to try but fall short. One of the four guys was clear, almost gone for good, but the two in red were clearly slowing the most and I was definitely pushing hardest.

The guy I had been tearing after for 2 miles finally passed the two in red. One of them sensed me and glanced back to confirm. He didn’t have anytime to react. I was going all out with a lot of determination and sped past the two of them as well. But I wanted the guy I had been chasing for 2 miles. I somehow kicked even more and closed on the heels of him. I went past him just before crossing the road to the finish straight.

The guy furthest ahead took note and kicked away from me but my concern was now only keeping the last guy out of reach down the straight. I was all of a sudden in the top 10 and didn’t want to give that up. I ran  as hard as I could; eyes closed, arms pumping and grunting away. It wasn’t pretty but it was all heart and that’s what I had asked myself to do in the last 4 miles. I was finally delivering on my promise.

Home Stretch: Running into the finish for 10th.  Photo credit: Tiffany Carson.

Home Stretch: Running into the finish for 10th. Photo credit: Tiffany Carson.

I ran like 10th place meant 1st, crossed the line in 2:06 and bent over to grab my knees with nothing left to give. Seconds later, the other three finished and none were too ecstatic with my late charge home.  I later learned, my last mile split was 5:41.

Pure exhaustion at the end! Photo Credit: Granite State Race Services.

Pure exhaustion at the end! Photo Credit: Granite State Race Services.

My overall time was a minute and a half slower than 2013. To know I was faster the year before was tough to swallow. Walking away from the finish line, me and Tiffany talked about immediate changes that have to happen to keep improving. No more just running.  Core work, better diet, sleep etc. That might sound serious and maybe a little to so for some but it’s the truth. To start with, I want to PR in Boston in April. That’s a tough challenge for me. I’ve never yet raced well there but I am ready to change that.

But longer term, I need to be at my fittest, leanest and strongest going into Tahoe 200 come September. Maybe the fact that I didn’t hit my time goal or place higher than I thought I would is exactly what I needed to happen. A wake up call of sorts.

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First medals of 2014: finisher medal and 3rd place age group.

Seeing 10th place and snatching a 3rd place age group award on the print out stuck to the gym wall helped my ego a little, but it didn’t take away my feeling of disappointment. I need to focus much better in the middle of a race. That’s been an issue of mine at Boston and other races for a long time. In a way, if I had run my best time here, it may have masked this problem. I think it might just have been a better first race than I originally thought. I know what to work on and I’m excited to improve.

“Going the (Philadelphia) Distance”

Philadelphia Marathon 2013

Philadelphia Marathon 2013. Photo credit: philadelphiamarathon.com

The Philadelphia Marathon would complete my ‘four fall’ marathons (others being Top of Utah, Twin Cities and NYC). It was never on the schedule as a true race but that didn’t stop me midweek changing my goals for it. The days after pacing the New York Marathon on November 3rd, I didn’t do much speedwork, just easy miles to keep up the turnover but all my body was holding up well.

Course Map; half city, half out to Manayunk and back.

Course Map; half city, half out to Manayunk and back.

I decided that the course was flat(ish), my mind was strong and frankly why not try to go after it. Sub-3 was my original goal to save the legs for my December 50 miler, but it seemed as though I was setting the bar too low on myself. I played that game back at the Twin Cities marathon post 100K and happily succeeded. So, I decided to just go for broke. I would chase down my personal best/record (depending on where you are reading this from) and go for a sub 2:45 time.

Race prep: putting on my 17th (and counting) race bib this year.

Race prep: putting on my 16th race bib this year.

Race day weather was near perfect. Low winds, a high of 63 but the early race start of 7am realistically put this number down to the mid-40’s for the race. I went to the start village with my teammates, Casey and Ryan. We hung out with Rocky, ran ‘the steps’ as a warm up and then decided we had better get ready for 26.2 miles.

@teamnovonordisk hanging with the man!

@teamnovonordisk hanging with the man!

With bags about to be checked into the UPS trucks, we all scrambled for our blood testers for one more check of blood glucose levels. Typically competitive people, we liked to compare our results. Let’s just say I lost with the highest number but just above 200 was by no means bad for pre-race.

I squeezed up to the front of my corral which was just behind the really skinny guys known as the elites. The race director made his speech and then to my surprise, a legend of marathon running I am still to meet, Bill Rodgers appeared on stage to follow suit. Bill Rodgers is one of the heroes of running no doubt about it with 4 New York and 4 Boston wins. This got me fired up and ready to go.

Elite field lead us off.

The elite field lead us off on the 20th anniversary of the Philadelphia Marathon. 

Off down Benjamin Franklin Parkway lined with a flag from every country you could think of, we headed east across Philadelphia. Amongst the frenzy of the start, I missed the first mile marker. I spotted my friend De’Vang ahead and gave him a tap. Neither of us knew we would be here. He had just raced NYC and I had just paced it, so you could forgive us for not knowing.

We compared goal times and he let me go when I said 2:45. I ran by friends Elaine and Tom cheering excitedly and before the first mile marker the race was already feeling like a home away from home. Past Liberty Bell into Old City we went, I was this time ready for the mile split. Two miles complete and my pace was behind. My watch was not helping with data off (déjà Vu NYC) but in all honestly, I was off. I already felt I was at my limit as the first drip of sweat ran down my face. I knew this was going to be a tall order to maintain this pace and I was already behind!

Mile 1 down Benjamin Franklin Parkway

Mile 1 down Benjamin Franklin Parkway Photo credit: phl17.com 

Down the riverfront on Columbus Boulevard, I followed a thin line of runners, nothing but footsteps, breathing and the Rocky soundtrack. Yes, a runner next to me was blaring out “Eye of the Tiger” so loud it was unmistakable. I liked his style but me and music do not mix in the marathon setting. I need to hear my breathing, hear the crowds and take in the whole experience, not block it out.

Mile 4 wound us back north into the city center passed City Hall and continuing west. The clock timer read 25:11 and so did my watch. From being behind, I was now right on pace for a 2:45. It was a shame I was red lining it to be on pace though.  I saw people I expected to see from Tiffany and Katie to others I did not such as Luke. My face turned from grit to smiles every time I recognized someone cheering me on.

Mile 6: back through the city. Photo credit: Elaine Acosta

Mile 6: heading west back through the city. Photo credit: Elaine Acosta 

But as naive as I was to try to hammer out a PR just because I felt it was worth a shot, I was now slowly adapting to the realization that my wristband splits would mean very little from this point on.

Passed the 30th Street train station and up a hill we went. My legs felt like they weren’t doing anything close to the effort of the first 6 miles with the added strain of going up. A right turn took us up another climb. The wheels were spinning but backwards was definitely not the plan. A group of rowdy college kids offering free beer and having a grand old-time for 7:45 in the morning. Could a few high fives cure my own diagnosis of acute fatigue syndrome? Momentarily yes but as they faded out of sight and noise the hill only continued going the same way as my heart rate.

I crested that hill as if it was my last one from a hill repeat training session. Luckily, what goes up must come down. A long straight lined the way ahead. I literally leaned into the descent and let gravity take over while I sucked up some much-needed oxygen.

The mile markers only verified what I already knew.  I was dropping time. At first it was 10 seconds, then 25, now 45. I had no real plan B. A sub-2:50 was technically written out to me on the reverse side of my wristband but I knew turning it around to see it was the only easy part about it. I popped a gel. Maybe my glucose was lower than I thought. 8 miles done was about time for first one so heck, try something I thought.

A second and ultimately last big hill climb up Lansdowne Drive brought some confidence back. I pulled in some runners and begun to view the race as good Boston training. It made a nice change taking some places rather than losing them. At the top, a flat section looped us around Please Touch Museum and then the reward for all the climbing thus far. Not only was the road down but perfectly paved, fit for race cars.

The Schuylkill river marked the end of the free fall and a u-turn gave me my first glimpse of other runners expressions. Most looked strong and under control but not all which gave me more hope and dare I say confidence. It was a simple reminder that I wasn’t the only one hurting.  As I headed back in the direction of the start/finish area by the Art Museum, aka the Rocky steps, I surprisingly noticed De’Vang not more than a minute behind again. My pace was truly in no mans land so I did what I never normally do in the middle of any race and turned around. I needed help so I literally put the brakes on and waited for him. We tapped hands and began running together.

Stride for stride, I now had a much-needed running partner on the course. We spoke occasionally to see how each other were doing. The game plan was to get to halfway together. De’Vang was adamant he would then ease off a bit more for the second half as he was hurting to. As I didn’t have a plan, the idea of easing off sounded like music to my ears. I was pretty confident at that moment in time I knew who I would be crossing the line with.

Mile 12 crossing the Schuylkill River. Photo credit" phl7.com

Mile 12 crossing the Schuylkill River. Photo credit” phl7.com

Over a bridge and up around the front of the Rocky steps, we then headed north while the half-marathon signs all pointed south to the finish. I didn’t think about that much. I wasn’t jealous of the runners that were about to be done but I knew I had a lot of work left to do and seemingly not much gasoline. We clocked the halfway shy of 1:25. I recapped the first half in my head, reminding myself the first 6 miles were at 2:45 pace and the latter 7 were less and less not. I knew doubling the clock time was unrealistic and all bets were now off for even a 2:50 finish which I had considered midweek. Marathons are not like ultras where you almost always get a second, third or fourth wind after a low point. But in the marathon, as soon as you are down, you normally just keep going.

The game for me now was to slow that process down as much as I possibly could. This was becoming a great test of pain management. How much did I want it? How much pain could I handle? I fast forwarded the clock to my last race of the year that will be in San Francisco. 50 miles of relentless climbing and descending with the best of the best ultra runners. I need to want it and handle pain out there so I thought I better start practicing right now.

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Halfway house: running outbound on the second half. Photo credit: Steven Beck

Just after halfway, we passed Tiffany, Beck and Kwabs and I forced a smile. My girlfriend and best running friends had come down from NYC to watch and cheer me and many other friends on. We were lucky to have so many of our good friends here.

De’Vang pulled ahead and initially I struggled to stay on his left shoulder anymore. Just as he was creating a slight gap we descended. The second half of the race was an out and back so I did my best to remember where the hills would be for the final miles. Rather than be happy with the current downhill, all I could think of was what was to come with the final mile being uphill! I closed the gap on De’Vang going down to the river’s edge and now felt better than him but not much. Rather than stick on his shoulder, I felt good enough to keep my pace and let him join if he wanted. We had run over 4 mile together and had an unwritten rule that after halfway, we would do our own strategy again.

I pushed along at about 6:30 pace and churned out the miles along the river. I saw a large bridge ahead and thought it was the one we had to cross for an extended loop but it was too high above us for that to make sense. It turned out to be Falls Bridge, nothing more than a landmark on the course. I ran under this bridge into a large aid station and cheer zone that definitely lifted my energy. The bridge then came that we had to do a small out and back on. As runners were coming the other way, I just assumed the turnaround was at the end of the bridge. No, another left and down the road we all went.

We u-turned around a traffic cone and continued back up to the bridge. My predicted finish time was now creeping up towards 2:55. I hoped and prayed I didn’t see my friend Shannon Price coming who was the Clif Bar pacer for the 3 hour group. He had become my feared sweeper of the day. I did not want to see him or have to fight like hell to stay ahead of him. Luckily, I did not.

Onwards north towards the small town of Manayunk, a suburb of Philadelphia. Over a small bridge and then along the straight road of Main Street we went. I saw the crowds growing ahead and a banner held high above at the crest of the hill at the far end. Assuring myself that was the turnaround point, was relief and dread that I still had to go back. My legs were absolutely shot. My only goal left to fight seemed to be a sub-3 hour time. I had made a self-inflicted wound in those first 6 miles that was making for some severe determination now with 6 to go. At the banner, the road shifted left and into view came more ground to cover north. Thank goodness for the crowd support because this was a true ‘sufferfest’ I was putting myself through.

On the turn, 10K to go. I started doing the math of what minute miles I needed to run to go sub-3. My brain was a fog and I recall believing that  7’s would do it (it was actually slower). Part of my brain would tell me that it’s OK to stop and walk for a minute but I fought back hard every time the conversation came to surface. To stop would have been a huge mistake.

The nice aspect of the course being out and back was seeing my other friends running. First up was Brian Hsai and then Tony ‘three marathons in the fall’ Cheong from Nike Team Run NYC. He was fractionally behind the 3:10 pace group coming towards me. We saw each other, raised out our medial arm and tagged. No words, no expression, just the quick slap of hands which said everything about how we were feeling and our respect for each others ‘crazy’ of running multiple races so close together.

Grinding through the next mile, which of course had some uphill, reminded me to never try to PR here. I was wrong about this course. Although not as hard as New York or Boston, Philly has some bumps in the road that make you change running technique frequently. I caught sight of more friends; De’Vang, Otto Lam and team-mate Ryan Nichols, all very easily among the 12,000 runners. Each person I saw gave me a lift as I pained my way towards the end.

But no friend can help you more than one by your side.  I had just passed mile 22 when a big shout of “ENGLAND” came from behind me. I turned to see my 3:15 New York pacer team-mate Andrew Rastrick a few yards back. Without hesitation, I waited for him. I felt like I had been stranded for days and Andrew was the helicopter! I jumped on his shoulder and was more than pleased to try to run at his pace. I thought it might last a few hundred yards at most before he dropped me. But I knew the situation. Four miles left and a partner to work with if I could just keep up. I mentally embraced it like many training runs over the years where I have hung on for dear life in Central Park to not get dropped by the pacer. Worku Beyi and Kevin Starkes, I’m talking about you.

Another hill on the stretch home cheered on by Tom. Photo credit: Elaine Acosta

Pain is temporary; on the stretch home with Andrew at mile 24. Photo credit: Elaine Acosta 

We knew we were both working off of tired legs from two weeks prior. Andrew mentioned breaking three hours was his only goal and I quickly agreed. A goal of mine is to run sub-3 in all 50 US states. This plan is by no means planned out but I would like to do it over my lifetime. As short as my current states are and as many races as I have run in Pennsylvania, this state was not yet checked off. Now was surely the time.

I hung and hung. Every other minute I was close to telling Andrew to go ahead and run his own race. I did not want to slow him down but knowing  neither of us were close to our PR’s, knowing we had put our bodies through the same exact stress two weeks prior stopped me from opening my mouth. I decided to work  and work harder. We looked for the 23rd mile marker. It seemed an eternity away. Knowing we were both itching to see it told me that we were in mutual discomfort.

Cassidy and Meb finish the 2013 NYC Marathon with the iconic photograph of sportsmanship. Photo credit @nycmarathon

Iconic shot; Cassidy and Meb finishing the 2013 NYC Marathon together. Photo credit @nycmarathon

My mind flashed back to the Meb story in New York when a local runner, Michael Cassidy caught Meb and rather than pull ahead, decided to stay and help each other out and run to the finish together. I am not claiming to be Meb and Andrew is not claiming to be Cassidy but we do know we were helping each other in exactly the same way.

At 24 miles, we had 19 minutes to go sub-3. It was all but secured but the pace we had been keeping would not have shown anyone we had any intention of simply just making it. I wanted to push mile 25 and hang on for a final mile, Andrew, not quite so much. Subconsciously, I knew that with a mile to go, I wouldn’t slow down.

25.5 miles mean we can smile again! Photo credit: Tiffany Carson

0.5 miles left meant we could smile again! Photo credit: Tiffany Carson

Up the long climb we went that I had been dreading and then passed all our friends. There was someone losing their mind but then I realized it was Katie just having a good time!  Andrew said to go on but I declined immediately. He had gotten me out of a mess at mile 22 and I didn’t care if my time was going to say 2:55, 56 or 57.

We would finish this together, Meb and Cassidy round 2! To duck under three hours was our goal when we met and that is exactly what we did. We were both more than happy with the result. Running can be so solitary but it can also be a team sport. It’s really up to you. Without the push it would have been even closer to the 3 hour mark. We finished in 2:56 (and lots of seconds).

Done. 4 marathons complete in 8 weeks. Two as a pacer, one on shot legs and one hanging on to whoever was around me. Thank you De’Vang and Andrew for your help on the course. Sub-3 at Philadelphia felt like I had just “gone the distance” with the man himself. I don’t like shortcuts anyway.

"Going the distance" feels oh so good!

“Going the distance” feels oh so good!

Twin Cities Marathon; The Sub-3 Experiment

TCM logo zoom

Observation:

Ultra runners are not normal. Ultra runners refuse to follow normal runner rules of training and racing. We ‘like’ to run 100 miles at altitude, 24 hours around a one mile loop course or dream up our own challenges. Some of my friends ran Boston backwards and then forwards this year. Why? Why not? Most of these ideas and races seem abnormal and impossible to most of the human race. Part of that is my drive.

Artist Impression of the course

Artist Impression of the course.

The Twin Cities Marathon (Minneapolis/St.Paul) is labeled “The Most Beautiful Urban Marathon in America”. I wanted to see for myself what all the fuss was about. The only problem with this year’s race was the date. It fell just a week after my 100K race in Colorado that I knew would (and definitely did) exhaust me. Most people would let the race go and look for it again on the calendar next time around. It would just not be ‘normal’ to run it so soon after such a hard effort. So, I said to myself ‘Imagine if I could break 3 hours at Twin Cities on really tired legs. That would be cool’. And there, the idea was born. I called it the Sub-3 Experiment.

To put my fitness into perspective, just three years earlier P.U. (pre-ultra), I broke the three-hour barrier in the Chicago marathon for the first time. I crossed that line with such emotion after having that goal from a young age. I wondered how future running achievements could every top that moment in time. Oh, how narrow-minded I was!

Chicago 10-10-10; 2:58. A priceless moment in time.

Chicago 10-10-10; 2:58. A priceless moment in time.

Hypothesis: Mind over muscle (fatigue)!

Prediction: This is where I have to be really decisive? Yes, I will do it!

Experiment:

Me and Ryan represented Team Novo Nordisk for the weekend at Twin Cities. We walked from our hotel to the HHH Metrodome (where the Minnesota Vikings play) where the start would be. We met up with my NYC marathon maniac friends; Kino and Thunder who I seem to bump into as much away from New York as in it. We discarded our warm clothes and got ready to go to the start line.

Getting race ready inside the much warmer stadium.

Getting race ready inside the stadium.

After my best night of sleep before a race ever, I was in good spirits. This was probably due to the fact that the ‘race’ was more of a game to me. If my legs weren’t feeling it, I would slow down but still finish. I was here to have fun and enjoy the challenge I had set myself.

I did a final glucose reading before handing my bag in and was surprised how low I was at 110. A 110 reading is normally perfect for everyday life but not before 26.2 miles. I was well below my target I always set myself of 180. As I had a 32oz Gatorade with me, now seemed a good a time as any to get some in the system. A few gulps and then a few more. I ended up polishing it off. I decided why risk going low in the race, I could always hold back on my carb intake in the first few miles if I felt it necessary.

Twin Cites route and elevation chart.

Twin Cites route and elevation chart.

I went outside to temps in the low-40’s. Most runners where already in the corrals waiting. I got into mine and weaved my way closer to the front. As soon as it became more trouble than it was worth, I settled on a spot and waited for the usual proceedings of speech, anthem and gun.

Start of the 32nd Twin Cities Marathon

Start of the 32nd Twin Cities Marathon

Off we went west through downtown Minneapolis. I didn’t try to rush ahead, I just stayed at the pace of most around me and moved up when a gap presented itself. The city had a similar look to Chicago, just not quite the same masses of runners. I believe we were about 9,000 strong.

By mile 1, I realized just how far back I had started. I was only now catching up to the CLIF pacer group of 3:15 led by fellow ultra runner Harvey Lewis. He read out a 7:21 split for mile 1 (I needed an average pace of 6:51 per mile for sub-3). OK, so thirty seconds down but no big deal. I had allowed for a slower start until 2.5 miles until the road flattened out.

We ran passed a church with its Sunday service bells chiming and then turned ninety degrees left up a long gradual climb. I noticed Kino ahead and caught up to him. We small talked, wished each other luck and then separated again.

Within two miles, we were in the suburbs of the city with beautiful tree foliage either side of the residential street. OK, the artistic impression of the course was pretty accurate. We wrapped around our first of four lakes for the day at Lake of the Isles. My average pace at the mile 4 was now down to an average of 7/minute miles. I had been gradually speeding up and so far so good. I told my plan to Crazy Chris Solarz in the week and he warmed me the wheels may fall off as early as mile 2. After a 100 mile race he had done last year, the next weekend he ran a marathon and it was not too speedy for him. I had been warned by the master but I was pretty determined to give it a fair crack at the whip.

The course was very flat now as we headed south. Around the biggest lake of the day; Lake Calhoun, and I could now appreciate why everyone who lives here loves their lakes! The lake looked glossy from the sunrise and a range of yellow, orange and green-leaved trees wrapped around the perimeter of the lake as the backdrop. During this lake, I passed by the last official pacing group on the course (3:05ers) which proved a bit more difficult than I wished for but once through, the space ahead was open and I continued at my steady pace.

I clocked 43 minutes at the 10K electronic mat. More to the point, my pace was now exactly on sub-3 hour target. All I had to do was maintain it for another 20 miles! I was surprised how many cheers I was getting of “changing diabetes” and “diabetes”. I’ve been wearing my Team Novo Nordisk shirt with pride all year-long but I guess running in the mountains and remote trails doesn’t attract the same level of spectators as a city marathon. It was a pleasant change. I enjoyed the acknowledgment of people recognizing what we are trying to do; diabetes doesn’t hold any of us back.

Early miles staying composed

Early miles staying composed

I was consuming a cup or two of Powerade at every odd mile marker to make sure my 110 pre-race glucose wouldn’t drop any lower. It by no means should have after that Gatorade I consumed but I was feeling more on the low than high side in the early miles. I ended up grabbing a gel from my shorts earlier than I would normally do. I was frustrated that a low now would possibly affect my pace rather than my legs that were doing a great job. Well done legs!

From mile 8 on, I knew the course descended very subtly all the way until mile 20. I didn’t want to increase my pace dramatically but knew it would be nice to have a cushion on my goal pace before the long hill from 20 to 23. I glanced my watch again and saw 6:47 pace. I stuck with this pace over the next few miles as it felt manageable.

The race director clearly knew what he was doing with his lakes because he saved the best of the four until last (only 9,996 lakes still to see in Minnesota!). As we hugged the south bank of Lake Nokomis, there was a great view of Minneapolis behind, probably a good five miles away. The houses around the lake were no joke either. I guess, if your living the good life in this part of the world, you live by a lake!

As much as I was enjoying my views and the race, my bladder was not enjoying any of it. I had been holding out for a few miles now. I really just didn’t want to stop to go or the complete opposite and wet myself so I just thought if I kept running, the problem would just go away. Shortly before halfway, I took a detour into a porta potty and oh man, did I feel better after that! I got going again and noticed the thirty seconds of cushion time I had just built up had gone again but at least I didn’t wet myself. I’m not sure I physically could have. How do people do that anyway?!

I clocked my half split at 1:29:40. Things were shaping up for the perfect sub-3 race but I was still concerned if my legs were coming along for the whole ride. I had to hold this pace for the same amount of effort again and climb this hill positioned at the hardest miles in any marathon. My mind was wandering and doubting. I had to break the race down before I cracked. OK, six miles until the bridge over into St. Paul. Let’s focus on those six gradual downhill miles and nothing else I said to myself.

I had noticed I was passing people every hundred yards or less the whole race. This felt great. Not that I was racing anyone except the clock but there’s something immensely satisfying about running smart, holding back and finishing strong. Time would tell if I was holding back or already close to my max though. Nothing was a given. I’ve never heard many people anyone say “that marathon was an easy” and respected the distance and discipline required.

Flying through the last aid station; I could wait 1.2 miles for water.

Pushing the pace on the second half.

As we ran alongside the Mississippi River to our right, I knew the bridge was imminent. With just about a mile of Minneapolis real estate running remaining, I got a tap on my back from a tall runner. “I love your team” he said. “Oh, thanks…me too” I said. “Are you T1?” I asked him. He was indeed. I was impressed. I demanded he apply for the team immediately!

During the conversation, I felt a growing number of runners swarming around me as we descended down the road towards the Franklin Street Bridge. I wasn’t one to enjoy doing all the leg work with a light breeze coming at us so I pushed the gear up enough to breakaway and cross the river independently.

Bridge the gap; between Minneapolis and St.Paul

Bridge the gap; between Minneapolis and St.Paul

The view of the rowers on the Mississippi River with the tree foliage either side was picturesque to say the least but I would have traded the view at this point for no wind which was blowing me all over the place. As I reached halfway across, I felt my speed pick up again. In part because the bridge was now descending but also because I heard the cheers of a large crowd on the St. Paul side of town.

I ran though this noisy section and kept my pace high as I kept drawing more and more runners in who were now fighting hard to stay at their earlier pace. Mine had picked up again, now to 6:31. I questioned if that was too much but knew for every mile, I was putting a nice twenty seconds in the bank that I may need to spend again on the hill.

Under the Mile 20 arch

Under the Mile 20 arch pushing at 6:30 pace.

Though a 20 mile arch I went and I still felt good. Better than good, I was growing in confidence that sub-3 was just 10K away. I had about 45 minutes to cover the ground. I kept with my hydrating system of Powerade every two miles. The temperature was now perfect running weather now in the low 50’s and overcast.

I waited any moment for the climb to begin. I had built up two minutes of cushion since my pit stop. I knew I could sacrifice my pace back down to 7-minute miles going up, push for the last 5K and still be OK. After a small climb, the view surprised me. It was a long gradual down again. What a bonus! Where was this hill then?

I approached a small group clutched tight together. As we turned sharp left onto Summit Avenue, a spectator gave us encouragement “Good group here, work as a team up this hill”. Team? I’d only just met them! I stayed at my pace  and pretended like they weren’t there. Sure enough, no one followed and I pulled away from them. I reminded myself, I had just climbed five mountains last weekend and this hill wasn’t going to be my excuse for slowing down.

Up ahead carnage was ensuing with a couple of runners staggering and walking the hill. I flew past them. The crowds were great here, a couple of rows deep in places and really had my back.  The legs were now feeling a little wobbly. I could fee the pain of the marathon kicking in and feared my pace had fallen off. It had slowed but not by much; 6:45.

Summit Avenue was as straight as a dart. I focused on the solid line painted on the asphalt for a bike lane and used that as my personal line. I kept my effort fair for the miles that were left to cover. The risk of my legs not feeling it was too high so I maintained my 6:45 pace all the way to the summit of Summit to be specific.

Classic mat shot with 5K to go!

5K to go; the classic mat shot!

Now I was passed 23 miles and I could see the road ahead descend again. Less than 5K to push. The crowd got louder as the legs began to get tighter and make their own kind of noise. Runner after runner, I kept closing the gap on the next one and charging ahead. I haven’t felt this good in the closing miles of a marathon since my PR at Marine Corps in 2011.

At mile 25, a couple of back to back hills presented themselves in front. I ran right through the aid station. I could drink as much as I wanted in 1.2 miles. In doing so, I blitzed through typical final miles marathon carnage; a guy holding his hamstring and another drinking from three cups of water. I knew now that I was not only going to break three but do it in style too.

With the final push uphill I looked up for the church in the skyline as I knew this would mean the home stretch. I was anticipating a tight left turn with a hidden finish but it was so much better. Down below the hill in the distance was the red and orange decorated finish arch. I realized I could cruise in but didn’t want too. I made every next step lighter and more powerful. Mind over muscle all the way home.

Home stretch still pushing hard

Home stretch still pushing hard

Result:

Across the line in 2:56. I keeled over and realized I was pretty dead. I bent over for an eternity soaking up my achievement. I didn’t want to leave the finish area. If their was ever a way to not PR and feel amazing, this was how to do it. I had achieved a big negative split of 1:30, 1:26 (something I don’t do nearly enough). The stats got better; nobody passed me after the halfway mark.

Like clockwork; the numbers make it look easy but I assure you i't wasn't

Like clockwork; the numbers make it look easy but I assure you i’t wasn’t!

I waited for a while draped in my foil blanket. Thunder came in next with a 3:15 and we waited for Ryan and Kino who were both shooting for 3:30. The rain that was forecast finally came down momentarily. Shaking from the cold rain, it was time to get our bags and change into dry ASAP. My flowing running legs minutes before were replaced with stiff hamstrings, calves and IT bands. I was looking forward to a few days off.

gghg

The home straight in St. Paul. A great finish area!

Re-grouping post-race with my team-mate Ryan, Thunder & Kino!

Re-grouping post-race with my team-mate Ryan, Thunder & Kino!

Conclusion:

The past two weeks, I have run two marathons and a 100K race in three different states (pacing Tiffany in the Top of Utah Marathon (3:05), UROC 100K  in Colorado (16:57) and now Twin Cities in Minnesota). I’m tired.

I predicted I could do it before I started but honestly I had my doubts and even a few doubters. I kept the demons at bay and went after it like I always seem to do. Think you might lose and you already have. My plan simply worked because I had one. Some determination and gusto didn’t hurt me either!

Now for a short break before the home stretch of 2013; New York City and Philadelphia Marathons and then onto the trails once more for the North Face 50 Championships in San Francisco. What, you thought that was it?

A medal I will always be proud of. 2:56 on a beautiful course!

Twin Citites medal; one I will always be proud of.

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