Trey Anastasio Band in Montclair, NJ

In 2001, 2002 and 2005, saw some of the various incarnations of Phish frontman Trey Anastasio's solo act (though hardly solo - one version of the group had 10 people). On Oct. 12, I had the good fortune of seeing the most recent version. To make matters better, it was practically in my backyard. Here's a guy I've traveled to three corners of the continental US to see with Phish, and on this night, he was playing six miles from my home. I could have run there.

I was able to go to work, come home, eat dinner, go to the show and still get up in the morning for work the next day, which happened to be my rest day from running.

I cruised to the venue, the Wellmont Theatre in Montclair, and since I know my way around the town, parked on the street for free while other folks got duped into paying for parking.

And I was still early.

When the band started playing "Burlap Sack and Pumps" I was already in an awesome mood. They were only a couple of weeks into their tour, but man, they sounded rehearsed. Solid. Tight. This septet version of TAB was out of sight.

Tearing through original TAB-only numbers like "Money Love and Change", "Cayman Review" and "Shine"; re-arranged Phish tunes "Alaska", "Magilla" (dig those swingin' horns); and covers such as The Band's "It Makes No Difference", the group had me dancing and swinging and swaying in the balcony of this intimate venue. The sound was crisp and clear and the crowd was friendly.

The breath of new life into the song "Pigtail", played only once by Phish in a shaky performance in Worcester during the otherwise amazing 2010 New Year's run, was fantastic, and the sleazy blues of the new "Snake Head Thumb" was filthy dirty in all the right ways. But the highlight of the first set was its closer, and a personal favorite of mine, "Push On Til the Day". I've since listened to every version played on that tour and I can't help but feel this one was the best. The climax was so ridiculously intense, Trey was running in circles on his little onstage carpet.

Set Two was just as much of a killer. To say that the multiple-times-modulating showcase of "Mr. Completely" was a highlight is to understate it greatly. Each band member got to strut his or her stuff a bit in this number. There was even a flute solo by Russ Remington. To my unexpected delight, they played my other solo-Trey favorite, "Goodbye Head" for the second of only three times during the tour.

And the cover song selection? Insane. What other band will play Gorillaz' "Clint Eastwood", the Five Stairsteps "Ooh Child" and Dire Straits "Sultans of Swing" in one set? And who would think to play Mark Knopfler's guitar riff from the latter on horns? Ending the set with a funky "First Tube" that was as, if not more, raucous than any Phish version completed two of two perfect sets.

For a three-song encore treat, the crowd was presented with the intricate horn-and-guitar composition "At the Gazebo" followed by a lovely take on my favorite new-ish Phish song, "Show of Life" and an incredible balls-out performance of Led Zeppelin's "Black Dog" with lead vocals by trumpet-player Jennifer Hartswick.

Why am I telling you this now, so long after the fact, and not just because I neglected to post about it at the time?

I tell you because the show stirred something in me, something with which I had lost touch at several of the Phish shows I saw on tour last year (excepting Super Ball IX). So much of the experience of seeing Phish gets bogged down by the hassles of getting to the show, the traffic jams, the crowds of people pushing and shoving, the idiots in the audience who won't shut up and listen, and the poor sound at many venues.

I tell you because the last note hit at 12:03, and by 12:30, I was in bed, reflecting on this reminder of what a truly great show can be. It was, as far as I can recall, very, very similar to what it felt like after my first few Phish shows, way back in the early- to mid-90s.

I tell you all this now because I attended two of the New Years run shows at Madison Square Garden this past December and the feeling I got from them was, to paraphrase Douglas Adams, almost, if not entirely, unlike that from the Trey show.

Letting loose

I will not be modest here. I worked hard. Damn hard.

From August, when I began seriously dieting and training for my autumn short-race season, to the Rehoboth Beach Seaside Half-Marathon on Dec. 10, I was strict about it.

I counted every calorie, consuming no more than 1500 plus 100 for each mile run, every day. I have the Excel spreadsheets to prove it.

I also did intense workouts on the track (speedy intervals) and off (tempo runs) and ended each week with a 13.1 mile run.

As a result, I ran some of the best races of my life.

So at the end of race season, it was time to let loose. I closed up the Excel sheets, loosened the belt, and indulged in holiday cookies and cakes. It was the holidays and time to rejoice. I had a hell of a 2011 and I had already begun formulating plans for 2012. In fact, the very Monday after the race, I began with Week 1 of marathon training using Hal Higdon's "Advanced 1" program. But I was not shy about a little pigging out in the process.

The point I am trying to make is that every dedicated runner needs to loosen up once in a while. Know that you'll gain a few pounds and lose a bit of speed, but understand that you'll get back into it when it counts. We runners are a disciplined bunch, after all.

Rehoboth Beach Seashore Half-Marathon

I woke up at 5 a.m. to start stretching and get psyched up. Kevin awoke a little later and by 6:15, still pre-sunrise, we were on our way. It was chilly, in the 30s, but not nearly as bad as it could have been at that time of year.

We found a good parking space in the downtown, not far from the race's start and finish lines and made our way toward the boardwalk to queue up at the start line. The race got underway, the sun rose, and it did wonders to warm me up.
I started near the front of the pack and went off strong with the fast runners through the downtown and into the residential area. Within the first three miles, I found a comfortable pace and a solid spot in the ranking as the fast folks darted out ahead and the pack thinned out a bit.

In the third mile, we headed toward the beach before a turnaround sent us back onto the main road. This turnaround would end up being significant.

To my pleasant surprise, around five miles in, the course headed into a park and onto a trail. I had neither watch nor Ipod, and there were no mile clocks. All I had was instinct and my training. I was shooting for a 6:36 pace and I could feel - I don't know how - that I was right on target, maybe even beating it. This is where the interval and pace training comes in handy - the body and brain remember what the pace feels like.

Before we got on the trail, a guy passed me. He looked like he was close to my age, so all I could think of was whether he would beat me out of an age group award. Rather than be competitive about it (yet), I offered words of encouragement.
The trail was awesome. The surface was a nice change from the pavement - soft enough to notice a difference, firm enough not to slow me down. It offered a woodsy visual that I didn't often have with races. The course went off the trail and onto a road where we half-marathoners turned around while the marathoners kept going.
Approaching this turnaround, I was able to count the runners coming back at me and know exactly where I was placed. Somehow, I managed to get myself into the Top Ten. I pushed on. On the way back through the trail I saw Kevin and gave him a shout and wave. Because the way back was more direct than the way in, the 10 mile marker came as we got close to the end (beginning) of the trail. I knew I had been running strong, certainly within PR pace and it was starting to wear on me. I knew I could coast in from there, but with three miles to go, the desire to push through the fatigue took over and I gained that focus and drive that only (but not always) comes at this point in a race.

I gunned it, picking up speed and passing the guy that overtook me earlier as we got back on the road, never looking back. With each mile marker, I pushed harder and actually felt like I was running faster, not merely maintaining. Finally, we were on Rehoboth Avenue and I knew the finish line was around one of the coming corners. Determined not to make the mistake of starting my sprint too late because the finish line was not in view, I sprinted the entire last mile.

I could hear that guy coming up behind me again. He must have been working hard to pass me again because a woman on the sidelines shouted to him, "You can get him!"

What? No. Freaking. Way.
That person's sideline cheer for the guy behind me became cry of war for me. How dare she root for that guy when I'm pouring every last bit of my soul into finishing fast. So I pushed even harder. It hurt, but it was worth it.

I rounded the corner to where the finish line was and could not believe my eyes when I saw the clock. I knew I had beat my best time; I felt it. But FOUR WHOLE MINUTES???  I crossed the line at 1:22:26 and was so overcome with surprise, joy and pain, that I screamed "PR!!!!," dropped to my knees and kissed the ground.

Finally, my 2008 PR from Harrisburg was beaten. Demolished, even. I went into the tent, grabbed some water and headed back out to give encouragement to the runners still coming in, waiting for Kevin so I could take his picture and cheer him to the finish.

Once Kevin came in, we headed into the tent to revel in the spoils of a job well done. The food spread was amazing - pancakes, eggs, bacon (I may be a vegetarian but I looooove the smell of bacon), bagels, etc. Lots of carbs and protein to go around.

As we filled our faces with copious amounts of food, we started hearing rumblings throughout the tent from people who had GPS watches. They were saying course was short. Many admitted that the GPS units were not always exactly accurate to the decimal, but never this far off. Some readings were 13.0, some 12.6, but none reached 13.1. And they all said the discrepancy was in the third mile.

It was that turnaround by the beach. Kevin and I went back to the spot with the car and deduced that the turnaround point came three tenths of a mile too soon. So much for the four minute PR breaker. Still, I did some math and determined that had I gone the extra .3 miles at the same pace, my time would have been 1:24:30. That still breaks my PR by two minutes. Still satisfying!
I had come in eighth place overall and ended up winning a beautiful trophy for placing third in my age group. And that guy that was chasing me down in the end? Not even in my age group after all.

It was an incredible weekend, a great race, and a momentous personal record breaker. Let's just hope that next year they put the turnaround in the right spot.

Road to Rehoboth

My last two races of 2011 were spurred on by co-workers, old and new. Sarah Schillaci inadvertently helped me run a fantastic 5K in November and it was photographer Kevin Wexler's idea to run the Rehoboth Half Marathon on Dec. 10.

It was just what I needed. Short race season was finished for me and I had tentative plans for a spring marathon. So to fill the time in between with a middle distance race was perfect.

We arrived at Rehoboth Beach on Dec. 9 in about three and a half hours. It is a Delaware shore town not unlike the Jersey shore towns, with a fun-looking downtown area surrounded by a residential area that seems to be for year-rounders and summer revelers alike. But as with the Jersey shore, it seemed empty and deserted in the December off-season. That gave it the same eerie vibe as the Seaside Heights Half Marathon, which I ran in 2008 - a town that looks like it is in hibernation, ready to burst with excitement in six months.

We attended the official pasta dinner where, for 15 bucks, we had unlimited pasta and salad, but the tent where it took place didn't feel very inviting. Still, we ate until we were content and headed to the Sea Esta (get it?) motel, only a few miles away. I am an earlier riser than Kevin and since I also have a lot of nervous energy on the mornings of races, I set my alarm for 5 a.m.