Thursday, October 31, 2013

Phish at DCU Center, Worcester, MA

Imagine my delight when Phish announced its first fall tour in three years.

Imagine my elation when I found out that the entirety of the tour would be in the east.

Imagine my utter joy when they said that the tour would be capped off with a three-night run, including Halloween, right here in New Jersey.

Imagine my disappointment when I could not get one darn ticket to any of those Atlantic City shows.

What to do?  Go to New England.

I managed to secure tickets to both shows in Worcester, Mass., and the following night in Hartford, Conn., and, boy, am I glad I did.  Those shows, my 93rd, 94th and 95th, were well worth the drive, cost of gas, hotel room and outrageous parking fees.

Friday's show was one of those that looks ho-hum on paper (with the exception of the rare four-song encore!), but to listen to the show is to hear Phish firing on all cylinders. 

"Funky Bitch" was a nice start, standard for sure, but once "Wolfman's Brother" kicked in, the band was locked and there was no turning back.  My view from behind the stage was so cool, seeing the crowd doing the "Wilson" chant and digging the deep grooves of "Cities" and "Free".  

"The Curtain With" has finally gotten to a point in my head that I can almost dismiss the dreary memory of it being the last song Phish played at the awful Coventry, Vt., concert before breaking up in 2004, and has become enjoyable again in all of its excellence.  So much so, that it did not even occur to me how weird it was that they played "Rift" two songs later, with its middle break being exactly the same as the "Curtain" coda.  "My Mind's Got a Mind of Its Own" was a nice little two-minute treat before the incredibly raucous "46 Days" set closer.  

I love huge first sets and the second set built on the already impressive show, with a "Waves" opener that created those Zen moments that Victor D. Infante wrote about in his excellent article in the Telegram & Gazette on Sunday.  "Carini" and "Down With Disease" rocked the house and brought more monster jams and "Backwards Down the Number Line" seemed more rollicking than usual.  "Sneaking' Sally Through the Alley" brought the funk and the one-two punch of "Cavern" and wild "Run Like an Antelope" closed the set leaving everyone satisfied.  For me, the dancing only stopped for a beautiful rendition of "Dirt" and a solid "Prince Caspian". Otherwise, there was just no stopping the party.

Trey Anastasio must have felt the same way because after the encore of "Contact" (again, with my view from behind the stage offering an excellent visual of the entire arena's audience doing the signature arm-waving), the band launched into "Suzy Greenberg" with Page McConnell absolutely killing it in his piano solo.  On any other night, that would have ended the show perfectly, but when I saw Trey turn around to Jon Fishman and yell for "Rocky Top", I was floored.  The breakneck bluegrass song came to a close and Trey turned around to Fish yet again.  I watched his mouth and saw it say, "Good Times".  And with that, the show entered the history books with the first four-song encore in God-knows-how-long as they brought the house down with Led Zeppelin's classic "Good Times Bad Times".

When the insanity finally stopped, I'm sure the statistics were the farthest thing from anyone's mind.  We had just experienced a killer show that, granted, consisted almost entirely of songs from the 1980s and 90s, yet sounded fresh and exciting.  That is the key to the band's ability to never become an oldies act.



Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Re/Max Heritage Properties - Heroes Run 5K

The park that sits in the middle of the quaint and pretty downtown Chester served as the starting and ending point for the Heroes Run 5K, a well-organized, small-town race by Re/Max Heritage Properties and a great staff of volunteers.

I entered the race after some research led me to last year's inaugural run which drew only 82 people and a winning time that I knew I could beat.  

That is not to say that I went into it expecting to win.  After all, I probably was not the only one that noticed the soft field from last year.  Plus on the rare occasions that I had been in the lead in previous races, I somehow managed to lose it  - the Leonia 10K in which I made a wrong turn came to mind, so I started scribbling the route directions on my hands with a Sharpie marker.

This year's Heroes Run grew a little, but the field was still small. When the race started, Chester's own Stephen Jeffs darted out into the lead, temporarily dashing my hopes of my first win.  Still, second place was easily do-able here, so the goal was to simply trail Stephen for as long as possible.

As I came up alongside him on Fairmount Avenue in the second mile, I told him, "Don't worry, I'm not going to beat you," because I figured he probably came here for the same reason I did and, frankly, I did not think I had a kick in me for the end.  He responded that he thought I might.

Here were two doubters in the lead, each thinking the other would pull away.  Stephen was so nice that when he saw me checking my directions, he spared me the effort of reading the red scribbles on my hands, alerting me to each coming turn as we navigated the roads north of Main Street.  We ran side by side on the uphill of Hedges Road and on the turn from Hillside Road onto Ammerman Way (which, by the way, had no street sign - good thing I had Stephen and my hand notes to help!).

Rounding the corner toward Cedar Tree Lane, we came upon a downhill that was about two-tenths of a mile and severe enough to have to make a choice - bound down and let gravity pull me with long strides or hang back and focus more on shorter leg turnover.

I chose the former, stretching my legs as far as they would go (leaving me with some groin ache later on), leaving Stephen behind.  Because in the end, with less than a mile to go, it was not about Stephen anymore and it was not about winning either.  It always comes down to the same thing - beating the clock.  All that time I was jockeying for position, I had no idea how I was doing compared to my own previous races.  Maybe I was in PR zone; maybe I was well over 19 minutes.

Pushing as hard as I could on the last stretch of Collins Road, trying to keep the momentum from the downhill and still fully extending my legs, I saw the clock still in the 18s.  And they were holding tape at the finish line!  I'm going to actually know what it feels like to break the finish tape!

My first win was with an 18:46.  I have lost age group awards with better times.  But that did not matter.  I ran a great race, with a time of which I can be proud and, darn it, I won!

Talk about a confidence booster.

Oh, for the record, after the race I apologized to Stephen for telling him I was not going to beat him and then doing so.



Monday, October 28, 2013

Recovery training

I knew I was in for a world of hurt.

When I finally got the shoes on and hit the pavement, it was slow going.  And it was painful.  Every muscle in my legs felt sore.  Even my feet felt fatigued from the moment I hit the ground running.  So it went for the next week or two.  

In addition to following Hal Higdon's programs to train for races, I also follow his post-marathon training guide.  The Advanced level five-week plan is an excellent reboot after any marathon, whether triumphant or grueling (or both).  It focuses first on simply getting back out on your feet.  Then it re-introduces some speed work - some 400-meter track intervals and some one-mile intervals - each week pushing a little faster.  So at first, you do your repeats at marathon pace, but after a few weeks, you do them at 5K pace.

The program concludes with a 5K race and that usually dovetails nicely into a season of continued short races for me until I burn out from it and need to get back to the long, slower miles.  Remarkably, I have run some of my best 5Ks at the conclusion of this post-marathon training.

I knew that thanks to Higdon's training schedule, I would be ready for a late-September 5K, but I also knew a PR was not in the cards.  What I needed, then, was a mental boost, so I specifically set out to find a race with a "soft field" (I just learned that term from a fellow runner) - one in which I could conceivably get some hardware. Sure, running a race has its own rewards but there is nothing like bringing home a medal, even if it is for third place in a five-year age group, to make me feel great about my accomplishment.

Among the dozens of September races in northern New Jersey, I found a tiny 5K in Chester called the Heroes Run.  Last year, its inaugural, the race had 82 participants and the winner clocked in at 20:34.  I wanted a soft field, and I found one.


to be continued...

Monday, October 14, 2013

Recovery Day Four

With a morning flight booked out of Salt Lake City, I needed to return my rental car and check in for my flight. I found the nearest gas station and in my haste filling up, spilled gas on my shoes.

And man, I was thirsty - good thing I have that water in the...oh shit, I forgot about the cooler in the trunk.

I removed the remaining water bottles, dumped the ice in the gas station lot, and chucked the cooler in the nearest Dumpster. Realizing I still had a quarter-bottle of Jack Daniel's, emptied the whiskey into one of the water bottles.  No point in letting that go to waste.  So I returned the car, guzzled the water, and then, in the airport, pounded the JD.

Sitting in the Salt Lake City airport at 10 in the morning, smelling like gas, drunk from a whiskey breakfast, and still having not had a proper meal in the three days since the race, I had set myself up for a world of hurt when running resumed the next day.

But at least I came back from Utah with some stories to tell.  That is what adventures are all about.


Friday, October 11, 2013

Recovery Day Three


So much for the big, nutritious breakfast.

It was my first time in a bed in three days, so slept long and deeply (natch). I had barely enough time to pack up and check out. Then it was on the road to Salt Lake City.

My first stop was Antelope Island, which is an island park that sits in the Great Salt Lake with hiking trails, beaches, campgrounds, roaming bison and pronghorn antelope.  Here I am dipping my feet in the lake, which I found to be murky, kind of gross, and teeming with bugs.


  



Without a lot of time to spend, though, I did not get a chance to walk the trails, though I did drive the length of the one main road and stopped to take photos of the view and the wildlife.



 
Later, after walking around Salt Lake City all day seeing the sights and learning about the history of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, I was finally hungry and needed to eat.  Since I knew it would be my only meal in the city before going home, I wanted it to be special - from just the right place.  The more I walked around, the harder it was for me to decide where to eat.

By this time, my brain was probably in a complete fog from not having had a proper meal in four days, not to mention walking around in the sun every day, drinking nothing but water, beer and whiskey.  In that stupor, I made the boneheaded decision to not eat at all because I could not decide where to go.  At the end of the night, I simply checked into my last hotel room and crashed out, continuing to completely blow my recovery in every way possible.




Friday, October 4, 2013

Post-Marathon Day Two

To Zion!

I spent Day Two of my not-quite-recovery at Zion National Park in southwestern Utah.  This meant more hiking, more blazing sun, and still not much eating.

In retrospect, I can not fathom why food did not figure into my days, but I ate the bare minimum - the yogurt and the raw fruits and vegetables that I bought on Saturday.  I drank a case of water, though.  Thankfully, I knew that to be important.

All the while, I explored Zion as much as one could in a day.



I even took a horseback ride along the canyon river.




By the end of the day, I was beat.  Utterly fatigued from two-and-a-half days of not recovering from the marathon.  The plan was, initially, to sleep in the car one more night instead I drove north through the night and checked into a hotel in West Valley, Utah, at around 1 a.m. 

First order of business - a shower.  I was filthy.  Then a solid night's sleep in a comfortable bed.

Around that time, it had occurred to me that I had not moved my bowels in almost three days.  And that was when I realized that I had not handled my recovery correctly.  If I was not taking in food, where was my body getting its nutrients?  Probably taking it from my muscles, which were already depleted.  Bad news.

Tuesday morning - big breakfast.  No doubt about it.  But the damage was already done.



Thursday, October 3, 2013

Still not recovering at Arches National Park


Waking up to this view is pretty awesome if you ask me (same view as last night, but at sunrise):







I spent most of the day after the race at Arches National Park, hiking some trails and taking in the natural beauty of one of Utah's treasures.

By the time I did the hike up to Delicate Arch (the famous one you see on postcards, Utah license plates, tourist websites, etc.), the sun was blazing and the temperature was in the mid-90s and there was absolutely no shade. I brought plenty of water with me and hydrated like crazy, but once again, eating did not seem to cross my mind.

With wobbly legs and some leftover fatigue, I managed to hike the 1.5-mile trail which went uphill almost 500 feet.  All worth it.





But it was soon time to leave Arches...





 ...because I had another destination to reach by the end of the day - the Four Corners, the only place in the country where four states meet.  The park in which that spot sits is on Native American land and it closes at 8 p.m.  I got there at 7:30.  Whew!

Here I am standing in both Arizona and New Mexico (with Utah and Colorado over the line in front of me) adding two more states to my goal of getting to all 50.  That makes 43.



And by 9 p.m., I began my drive through the night across northern Arizona and back into Utah on its southwestern side to visit Zion National Park.

But not before a photo with one of the official welcome signs.



It was a day and a half after the race and I still had not eaten a meal, slept in a bed or showered.  I was having too much fun to realize I was doing everything wrong.



Wednesday, October 2, 2013

How not to recover from a difficult marathon...


After re-gaining my senses in the First Aid tent at the Park City Marathon in Utah, I drove the half-hour to my hotel in Sandy, took a shower, checked out, and got on the road.  I had four more days in the state and I needed to see as much as possible, starting with Arches National Park.

Before making the trek to Arches, I stopped at the local supermarket.  I was feeling weak and not hungry at all.  Still, I figured I had better grab some healthy food for the road trip.  A kind gentleman at the hotel gave me his giant Styrofoam cooler (he was checking out and heading to the airport), so I bought some cold food like yogurt and various fruits and veggies.  Plus the cooler was already stocked with some beer and whiskey (score!).

What I did not buy was anything with carbohydrates or protein (besides the yogurt) or salt.  Pretzels would have been a great idea.  Protein shakes would have been a good idea.  Instead, I ate a head of kale for dinner.  You read that correctly - a head of raw kale.  And some grapes.  Way to replenish the muscles, Daniel.

Then, following a few hours on the road, when I finally got to Arches in the evening, I cracked open a brewski.  Yes, beer for dessert. 

To cap off the evening, did I tuck myself into some comfortable hotel bed, soothing my aching body with the comfort of a soft, thick mattress?

No, I pulled into a parking lot at Arches, put the seat back, and slept in the driver's seat of my rental car.


On the plus side, this was my view (the Windows Arches) as the sun went down and I got ready to drift away to sleep.