Saturday, December 29, 2018

Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon (Part Three)

It is no secret that race directors and the USA Track and Field organization have a bug up their butts about GPS watches.

This is, of course, with good reason.  Most runners now have the darn things and there are a lot of discrepancies that can occur because of the way that they calculate the distances between points.  Without going into great detail, the general accepted consensus is that, mile to mile, they are pretty accurate, give or take a fraction of a second.

But those fractions of seconds add up over long distances.  So if my Garmin is off even as little as a quarter of a second off per mile, that is no big deal for that one mile; but over 26.2, I am looking at a differential of more than six seconds by the end. 

Naturally, race directors and the USATF completely dismiss complaints about GPS discrepancies, claiming that their race courses are meticulously measured and thoroughly vetted, and are therefore not subject to such discrepancies.  Thus, they are the gold standard of accuracy...

...except when they are not - like at last year's Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon or the Rehoboth Beach Marathon in 2011, when the courses were glaringly short; or the countless races where I had been sent into a wrong turn (or a missed turn).  Even at major events like last year's Mississippi Gulf Coast race, at some point, the directors have to admit, with eggs on their faces, that an error had been made (though the silent USATF never admits there is ever a problem). 

Because no matter how accurate the measurements are claimed to be, there are still humans doing it; several, in fact, for each course measurement.  And humans make errors, no matter how much people like that idiot Liza Recto from the Lower Potomac River Marathon (whose poor instructions caused runners several precious seconds) try to get around copping to it.

Also, I have read that many courses are designed to be slightly long just in case of these kinds of errors occur.

So, all that being said, if my time on my Garmin (3:04:15) was 33 seconds different from the official time (3:04:48), is it not possible that seven seconds (almost one-fifth of the differential) can be accounted for as some kind of human error?  There is legitimate proof that there was definitely some kind of error at this race, as no one could deny that the 11-mile marker was waaaay off.

I am certain that neither the race director nor the stuffy USATF would entertain a complaint (they completely ignored my legitimate and completely prove-able argument about that moron Liza Recto), and I will accept that the official time stands. But in my heart, I will always feel like the Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon was my unofficial PR - the race in which the weather and nine years of hard training came to fruition and its triumphant conclusion.

Wednesday, December 19, 2018

Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon (Part Two)





After doing a mile warm-up jog and trying to stay warm at the start line during yet another pointless playing of a recording of the national anthem (seriously, when can we stop suffering through that nonsense before a race? A freezing race starting line is not exactly the place for patriotism), we were finally off and running the Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon.

The lead runners went out way in front and I hung back as much as I could.  Even now, 19 marathons later, I still have to remind myself not to start out too fast.  The rule is, was and always will be "If you think you are going a little too slow, you are probably about right."

I used my Garmin GPS watch to keep track of my splits and, indeed, I hit the first mile at 6:53, only slightly faster than the magic 7:01 pace that would bring me a personal record (3:03).  The next few miles were 7:00, 6:53 and 7:07.  I could not slow down any more than that; I was already having too much fun looking at all the beautiful houses on the tree-lined Scenic Drive and enjoying the awesome tailwind.  Perhaps it was too early to start talking about a PR, but I was about 11 seconds in front of the goal time and the seed was already planted in my brain.




With another sub-7 in the fifth mile (6:58), I knew I had to calm my excitement and slow the hell down.  I have done this all too many times - start out too fast, crash by the end.  I did not want this race to end in suffering.  This was supposed to be a happy race, through and through, and I was determined to keep it that way.  So the next few miles were deliberately slower - 7:08, 7:10, 7:08, 7:04, 7:11 - and it felt like I was crawling.  Plus, those miles put me about 22 seconds behind my goal PR pace and no matter how much I tried to convince myself that I did not need to go for a PR, I could not get the nagging thought out of my head that it was possible.  Perhaps that is why I did the 11th mile with a 6:58.




(By the way, if you are watching the videos, you will notice that my math was a little off.  Doing math is a great way to keep my brain occupied while running, but it is not easy to do it accurately!)

Still not certain that a PR attempt was the right move, I hung back some more for the next three miles, even getting caught up in a conversation with a fellow runner.  So miles 12 through 14 in Gulfport were 7:04, 7:05 and 7:12.




More than halfway through the race now, and 37 seconds behind PR pace, it was time to decide what kind of race this would end up being.  The flat course and the tailwind made it possible to stay so steady with so little fatigue.  If there was any chance to ramp it up and get some of those seconds back, it had to start immediately.

I went for it.

To make up 37 seconds in 12 miles, I needed to run 6:58s consistently. That seemed unlikely.  However, there was one saving grace - my PR goal pace had a built in cushion.  A 7:01 pace overall would get me to the finish line at 3:03:32.  But my PR is 3:04:42, so that gave me 70 seconds of wiggle room.

I ramped up the effort for the next several miles and made up a decent chunk of time.  Unbelievably, I ran my fastest two miles yet in Miles 15 and 16 (6:52 each) and kept the effort strong and solid, coming in with 7:01, 6:59, 7:02, 7:03 and 7:01, for miles 17 through 21.




Five miles to go and only 20 seconds off of that 3:03 goal, the PR seemed completely within my grasp, especially with that built-in cushion.  But my grasp started to slip as each mile got more labored.  There was no way I was ever hitting a wall at this race, but I could definitely feel my energy fading away as I managed to run Miles 22 through 24 at 7:02, 7:04 and 7:02 - a marvelous feat at any other marathon, but every second counted now.  I kept telling myself that I only needed to push myself a little more and it would be over and I would be triumphant.  I was picturing where I would be on my five-mile course and how close to home I would be.  I was also picturing what it would be like to cross that finish line breaking the PR that has been standing now for almost a decade.

The 25 second deficit from the goal pace would put me at the finish line at 3:03:57.  All I had to do was run the last 2.2 miles in 15:52.  That would be a 7:12 for each mile.  7:12 had been my slowest mile, when I was barely trying.  If I use every last bit of gas in the tank, surely I could pull that off.

Then, the course's one and only hill came in Mile 25 and threatened to put the kibosh on the whole thing.  Not a natural hill, this was an exit ramp off of Highway 90 and onto Interstate 110, which literally crosses over Biloxi.  At first, the incline felt good - I could finally use some different muscles (my quads were raring to go).  I even passed a few people.  But heading up the incline and into the 15 mph winds that had been at our backs (at best) and from our left (at worst, which still was not bad) knocked my penultimate mile down to a 7:16.

Still, every uphill has a downhill, so I gave it everything I had for Mile 26.  Despite my hamstrings practically screaming for mercy, I lengthened my stride as far as it would go as I saw Gloria and my friend Marshall cheering me on from the minor league baseball park where the finish line was.  All I had to do was hook around the stadium, enter from the opposite side, and traverse the outfield wall and first base line to the finish.  And with a 6:50 (my fastest mile of the race), I made up almost all the time I lost in the previous mile (my slowest).

This was it.  PR, baby.  I had done it.

Except, somehow, I had not.  As I rounded the outside of the ball field, I saw the seconds tick past the 3:04:41 that I needed.  Grunting, groaning and moaning in pain, I crossed the finish line with 3:04:48 on the clock.  An amazing result of which I am extremely proud, but inexplicable considering my pace and my splits.  How did it happen?




If it is possible to be both elated and disappointed at the same time, this would be that moment.  But at that point, who cared?  My 19th marathon was my second fastest marathon of my life - at 44 years old, no less.  There was no reason to quibble, nor was there time to do so because from that moment, for the rest of the day, it was party time.  You run a race like that, you celebrate.

Sunday, December 16, 2018

Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon (Part One)


Sometime in September, I had chosen to work toward a December marathon and, investigating races in 33 states, came across the third annual Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon.  I had not known of the course length error at last year's race (which might have scared me off) - all I saw was a flat race on a point-to-point course in what seemed like a beautiful area.  I had only ever driven through Mississippi on the way to Louisiana and Texas, so this would be a perfect opportunity to spend some time there and visit with a friend of mine who lives in the area.

Training with Hal Higdon's Advanced 1 program involved 800-meter track repeats, hill sprints, tempo runs and pace runs, all of which I did as if I was gunning for a personal record.  While I was aware that beating my 3:04:42 from almost a decade ago was a bit pie-in-the-sky, it was important to train as if it was the goal; that way, I could decide how to approach race day on race day.  If the conditions and my body felt right, I could go for it.  If not, no big deal - run the best race that the day warrants. 

In the days leading up to the race, the forecast was showing rain, but the storm front moved quickly and, instead, it poured the entire day on Saturday.  This made for a soggy occasion for the 5K and beer mile participants, but it worked out for the Sunday marathon and half-marathon runners.  We had a cloudy day in the 40s (F), with some strong winds blowing from the north-northwest on a course that ran mostly due east.  

Cool temperature, a tailwind for most of the course and no sun.  Perhaps a PR would be in the cards, after all.  If nothing else, I could easily sail into a Boston qualifier, especially now that my qualifying time is 3:20:00 as I head into the males age 45-to-49 group.

I had topped off my training last month with a 22-mile run along a course that involved a 400-foot incline during the 16th mile.  If I managed to do that run at a 7:30 pace on the day after doing an 11-miler at an even 7:00 pace, I was pretty sure that this flat course that involved exactly one hill would present little challenge.  

It has been a long time since I have been able to approach a race with this much confidence (or, at least, this little worry). Everything leading up to the race had gone smoothly - the flight arrived on time in New Orleans, where Gloria spent Friday afternoon enjoying the last bit of sun until Monday.  Our room at the IP Hotel and Casino in Biloxi, Miss., was lovely.  Packet pickup was easy.  Our just-for-the-heck-of-it drive through Alabama to the Florida border was a fun adventure.  Parking at the Beau Rivage (near the finish line) was hassle-free on race morning.  The shuttle buses got us out to our respective starting lines (Gulfport for the half-marathon, which Gloria was running; and Pass Christian for the full marathon) with ease.  Save for the chilly morning air with cold winds blowing, everything was going perfectly at 7 a.m.

Nothing left to do, then, but run my best race.

Gloria and I flew to New Orleans on the Friday before the race, and had drinks on the plane at 8 a.m. Why not?

In New Orleans, we had brunch and drinks at Atchafalaya.

MGM Park, where the finish line would be on race day.


We headed to Mississippi on Friday afternoon to pick up our race bib packets at MGM Park, so we would have nothing to worry about on Saturday.



We checked into our room at the IP Casino in Biloxi, Miss., on Friday night and had a couple more drinks. 
Despite the rain on Saturday, we took a road trip through Alabama and to the Florida border, just because.




Wednesday, December 5, 2018

Trinity Academy 5K Reindeer Run

After running the Trinity Academy 5K Reindeer Run in 2013 and 2014, it was nice to return to this well-organized, friendly and fun race.

And as was the case for the races I ran in the past couple of weeks, the emphasis would be on fun.  But that does not mean I would not work hard, too.  Each of these three 5Ks were replacements for the weekly speed work, prescribed by Hal Higdon in his Advanced 1 training program.

Not only that, but I was happy to participate in this race for the first time as a married man and was thrilled that my wife would be running it, too.  When we got to the site, I remembered how the course involved a loooooong incline through the first two miles, followed by a steady decline for the last one, so I relayed that information to Gloria and we talked about tactics for handling it. The mission was to go hard...but not too hard at first.

I placed myself near the front of the pack and, at go time, darted out on the brief downhill, quickly taking my place in fourth.  But no sooner were we a quarter mile through, we turned onto Smull Avenue and began the long climb.  Pushing with a big effort, but making sure not to spend all of it too soon, I hit the first mile at 5:54.

Determined to stay in that sweet spot, I tried to give it some more oomph, but my body was not having it.  On the plus side, I was closing in on the third place runner.  So even though my second mile was a dramatically slower 6:08, I did what I have always done best - made my passing move on the uphill.  The guy was clearly gassed from the constant uphill and there was no way he was going to come back from it.

Now in third place and cresting the hill, I started laying it all out there - increasing both the rate of leg turnover and the length of my stride.  From out of nowhere, the guy that had been in fifth place bolted past me on the downhill and I found myself in fourth again, with no chance of catching him.  Admittedly, I held back a little bit because I am still in marathon training and did not want some of the aches and small strains in my groin, hamstring and Achilles tendon to be become problematic.  Nonetheless, my third mile was a swift 5:32.

Barreling into the final hard 90-degree turn into the Trinity Academy parking lot for the finish, I finished with 18:18 on the clock, even though my official end time was listed as 18:20.  Not sure how that can happen, but who cares. And even though the man who blew past me to take third was in my age group, his placement in the top three made him ineligible for an age group award, putting me at the top of the males age 40 to 44.  That means I won another warm winter hat with the race's reindeer logo. That makes three for my collection.  

A 5:54 pace not only made for my fastest of the three times I have run the Trinity Academy 5K Reindeer Run, but also a triumphant conclusion to a streak of three 5Ks in as many weeks, in which I have liberated myself from the need to run PRs and simply running the best races that I can.  As a result, I would say that fall racing season has been a success.

Full results: http://www.compuscore.com/cs2018/novdec/reindeer.htm

Thursday, November 29, 2018

Morris Township Turkey Trot 5K

Doing the Purple Stride 5K on Nov. 11 made me feel better about doing short races while training for a marathon.  Substituting a 5K for my usual weekly speed work makes sense and helps keep things fun.

Yes, fun.  Something my mom always texts to me whenever I am stressed out and nervous about an upcoming race is "Remember, this is supposed to be FUN," a reminder that while I am focused on being competitive and fast and pushing my body to its limits, fun should not always be put on the back burner.

In addition, doing a spur-of-the-moment 5K - this time, the Morris Township Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving Day - takes the pressure off.  Instead of always trying to get a PR, it is possible to simply show up to a race and do the best that I can. With that weight off of my shoulders, there was no need to get thrown by the freakishly cold 17 degree temperature and the chilly 13 mph winds.  I just had to run my best race for that day.

The first mile was mostly flat, and in my effort to chase warmth, I knocked it out in 5:49.  But then there was Kitchell Road.

With an incline of about 150 feet in the span of around a third of a mile, Kitchell Road is an exercise in hill training and enough to put a huge damper on the race of all mere mortals.  Superhumans like the winner, William Mitchell, somehow destroyed the course in 16:13 (a 5:14 pace).  I, on the other hand, took 6:09 to get through the second mile, thanks to that killer hill.  So by the time I made it on to Spring Valley Road and then South Street to the finish, my turkey was cooked and my energy gobbled up, as I hit the third mile with a 6:02.

All things considered, averaging a 6:00 pace on a difficult course on what was pretty much the coldest Thanksgiving ever - in a race for which I did not even specifically train - felt darn good.  Coming in 17th place (out of 1,459 overall and 717 males), second of 306 masters (age 40 and up) and first in my age group of males age 40 to 44 was icing on the cake (gravy on the turkey?).

Sunday, November 25, 2018

The mettle to meddle for a medal (Part IV)

I understand that when a race-timing company is charged with giving accurate results to thousands of runners at hundreds of races, errors are bound to happen from time to time.  But, seriously, this shit seems to keep happening to me.  Three times in the past, I had been completely looked over. On all those occasions, I had come in second place (SOCH 10K, Cheshire Home 5K and Samra 5K), but forgotten when they distributed awards, as if I was never there.

At the Purple Stride 5K on Nov. 11, I was excited to accept my third place medal among my friends.  They called out the top three winners and I was not one of them.

Confused, I checked the posted results sheet.  I was listed as being in fifth place, but with the fourth place name crossed out.  At first, I wondered if people had cheated, slipping into the race chute without having run it.  Then, I started wondering if I had it wrong.  Maybe there was another guy in front of me and I was concentrating so hard that I did not see him.

It was my long run day and I needed to run more miles, so I ran home from the race site.  During the whole run, I was playing it over and over in my head, wondering what had happened.  At some point, I started getting mad, composing in my head the strongly-worded email I was about to write to the race organizers and the timing company.  I looked at my splits when I got home and noticed that as I got more angry, my miles got faster.  I guess running angry makes you run quickly.

At home, I asked my wife, Gloria, who had been standing at the finish line the whole time, what she saw.  She said she only saw the first place winner (Andrew Ferretti), the second place finisher (Charles Griffin) and then me.  No one else in between.

The next day, I wrote the email to the Purple Stride organizer, Alex Rappoport, and the Best Race timing company (Bill@BestRace.com).  I explained the situation and even showed a screen shot of the extremely messy results page that was posted (that showed me as the 254th finisher and people finishing the race in a few seconds - clearly, their chips were registering results when crossing the start line, rather than the finish).

The next day, the results were revised online, but were (and are, as of this writing) still incorrect, showing me in fourth, with someone named Brian Cannona in second.  I do not know who this person is, but I searched the internet for any other race results with his name, and there were none.  One would think that someone in his 20s that can do a 5K at a pace of around 5:30 would have done other races.  But there is no such record.

So, I emailed Alex and Bill again and told them all of this.  

Alex wrote back to me, saying that they had looked into the problem, admitting that there was an error and agreeing that I was, indeed, the third place finisher.  My third place medal was promptly mailed to me and I received it a couple of days later.  That is someone who, despite merely being in the business of putting together a fundraising event, understands fairness and the importance of what we do in this sport.

Interestingly, Bill from Best Race was silent.  He never admitted to his company's mistake.  He never corrected the results online.  He never apologized to me for the error.  He never said a word.  That is someone who, despite being in charge of a company whose specific job is understand fairness and the importance of what we do in this sport, does not.  

In the end, though Alex made me feel better about the idea of participating in another Purple Stride event; Bill will make me think twice about running a race timed by Best Race.

Tuesday, November 20, 2018

Purple Stride 5K

On Nov. 11, I took a slight detour from my marathon training to support the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network (or more specifically, my friend, Alana, who has a family member that suffered from the illness) at the Purple Stride 5K in my hometown of Parsippany, N.J.

The race was an out-and-back set in a corporate park area (Sylvan Way) on flat roadways with minimal turns. It was refreshing to run a race with no logistical worries.

It was also refreshing to run a 5K for the heck of it, instead of specifically training for it, gunning for a PR and putting pressure on myself to lay it all out there. Instead, I used it as my my speed training for the week - a hard effort, but not one that had any of the stress of hitting a specific goal.

It was a chilly morning in the 30s (F) and most of the guys at the front of the starting line (including me) were in shorts, so we were not too pleased that the race was a half-hour late in commencing. I understand that there are speeches to be made about the cause and all, but if they advertise a start time, they should adhere to it.

When it was finally underway, I quickly passed a bunch of guys whom I had assumed would easily stay ahead of me.  Within the first half-mile, I took my place in third.  The front runner, Andrew Ferretti, was extremely fast and far ahead, but Charles Griffin was close enough that passing him seemed possible.

I hit the first mile at 5:41, though I didn't know it at the time because I refused to look at my splits. I wanted to run as fast as I could without the possible disappointment of being slower than usual or the possible shock of running too fast.

By the time I got to the turnaround point at the halfway mark, I was losing some steam but still pushing hard and getting results, marking my second mile with a 5:51 (again, unbeknownst to me at the time). Now it was just a matter of getting through the last mile and finishing strong.

For a moment, I thought once again that I could close in on Charles, but that moment did not last long because I was fading.  Seeing my friends that were walking the course was a nice boost, but I was ready for this race to end soon.

It turned out that it would end too soon. With the finish line in sight, I finally looked at my GPS watch and saw that I had only gone 2.8 miles. The course was short.

Ah, well. I pushed hard into the finish in with a time on the clock of 16 and change, but more importantly, in this case, in third place.

My final pace was 5:51, which means my third mile would have been 6:01. Good thing this was not a longer race - losing 10 seconds per mile is rough.  Doing some math, I extrapolated that my finish time would have been around 18:11 - not bad for a race for which I did not formally train. 

Saturday, November 10, 2018

Marathon XIX

After the Youngstown Marathon in June, I felt like I could do a quick turnaround to a July marathon.  I started eyeing the Mad Marathon in the Mad River Valley of Central Vermont.  Coming off of my hard effort in Youngstown, I could take in scenic rural Vermont and climb the tough hills at an easy pace, simply for the enjoyment of it all.

Unfortunately, that plan got destroyed when, in mid-June, during a routine eight-mile run, something pulled in my right leg.  I think it was my hamstring.  It hurt, so I took the next day off.  I tried to run again, but was in agony and took two more days off.  Tried again.  Pain.  Three days off...then four days...then five....six...

In all, with the exception of the trial runs, it took about seven weeks before I could run with any consistency (as in, two or more days in a row), so the rest of the summer was about building my strength back up.  It was also about having the opportunity to cheer for my wife, Gloria, as she ran the Run 4 North Caldwell 5K in early September, the Grace-in-Motion 10K in Fort Lee in late September, and Morristown's Superhero Halloween Half-Marathon in October.  I loved watching her kick butt this race season.

At some point, though, I need to train for something.  I am simply not good at maintenance running.  If I do not have a Hal Higdon workout chart on my fridge, with a race date at the end, I tend to feel lost.  So by the end of September, I gave myself a projected upcoming goal marathon, starting increasing the mileage, and followed Hal's Advanced I Marathon plan.  I knew what race I was aiming for, but did not register.  I just worked toward it.

At the end of October, despite various minor aches and pains (hey, I am 44 now - I accept that this is going to be the norm), I finally pulled the trigger and registered for what will be my 19th marathon, bringing my state total to 18 (I ran in New York twice) over the past 11 years.

My marathons have been (chronologically) in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Kansas, Massachusetts, Montana, Rhode Island, Delaware, New York, Utah, Florida, Maryland, New Hampshire, South Carolina, Maine, Nevada, Texas and Ohio.  What will be my 18th state?  Stay tuned...


Sunday, October 21, 2018

Phish in Albany - Oct. 17, 2018

I think I liked my seat in section 107 on Wednesday better than the floor ticket I had the previous night.

It also didn't hurt that this show did pretty much everything I love, with not one moment where I wished the band would have played something different or differently.

I'm not sure what the significance is, but it cannot be a coincidence that at the past three runs at the nearby Saratoga Performing Arts Center and now here in Albany, the great "Crowd Control" keeps showing up,  usually as an opener. I may not know what the connection is to that area of New York State, but boy do I love it.

After that the band was off and running with an incredible "Chalkdust Torture". Thanks to Zzyzyx's stats page, I know that is my most seen Phish song, but I am sure that this was the only one of the dozens I have seen that, after the second chorus, went like this: jam -> end-of-jam riff -> chorus -> jam -> chorus -> coda. It is a testament to Phish that they can continue to transform a 27-year-old song and keep things fresh and interesting.

As probably the biggest fan of the 'Round Room' ballads - "Anything But Me", "Friday" and "All of These Dreams" - I was thrilled to not only hear them perform the latter, but do it so beautifully that it almost brought me to tears. 

"Wolfman's Brother", "NICU", "Gumbo" and "Bathtub Gin" were all well-executed and featured some big, happy, major-key jams.  "I Didn't Know" included a vacuum-cleaner solo by Fishman (introduced as "Jezmund, the family berserker") and "Steam" was super-slinky and sexy.  

"Set Your Soul Free" started with a long, fun jam that got me thinking that it will be the centerpiece of this year's New Year's Eve show. "Birds of a Feather", "The Wedge" and "Wilson" were all fun, if not exceptional, but there were plenty of exceptional jams in "Mercury" (which, along with "Steam", makes a great case for the 3.0 era), a kick-ass "Light" and a set-ending "Slave to the Traffic Light". 

As an encore, the often disappointing "Julius" was at least swinging, if slow and decidedly not rocking; but when Trey calls an audible and whips out an impromptu "Rocky Top", you know that it is a sign that he had a great time and gave us a fantastic show.  It was a you-had-to-be-there encore at a show that otherwise will please the ears of those who only listen.


Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Phish in Albany - Oct. 16, 2018

The cancellation of this summer's Curveball festival was an incredible disappointment. It meant my summer tour was whittled down from five shows to two. It meant that my wife, Gloria, wouldn't get to experience her first Phish festival. It also meant that, with a grand total of six shows for the entire year, my attendance was at its lowest in eight years. Summer ended with a thud.

As a consolation, in addition to a full refund, all Curveball ticket holders received free webcasts of the three Labor Day weekend shows from Colorado. That gesture, along with some mighty fine playing, did a lot to alleviate the disappointment.

It also helped to know that fall tour was around the corner and that I'd be attending the first two shows, both at the Times Union Center in Albany (the Pepsi Arena the last time I was there, on Sept. 9, 2000, during the last month of the 1.0 era.

Tour openers can suffer from having to shake off the rust after not playing for a while (like this past summer) or be bursting with vibrant energy, well-rehearsed out of the gate (like summer 2014).  This one split it down the middle with a show that was fully dance-able, had some impressive jams and was well played, except for a couple of big flubs. Nothing outrageous in either direction, though.

Things got off to a funky start with "The Moma Dance" and "Tube", the latter including a standout jam. If I never hear "Theme From the Bottom" again, I will be fine, but this version's segue into "Free" made it worth my while.

Speaking of segues, the one from "Everything's Right" into "Cities" was marvelous. The former was especially notable for its dreamy jam with Page taking the lead on the Rhodes, followed by Mike dropping a bass bomb that led to Trey briefly doing his peaking thing before Page took over again, this time on the Hammond. 

"Halley's Comet" was fun, but the real left-field surprise was the 2.0-era rarity, the gorgeous "Army of One".

Though Page and Trey managed to badly bungle the beginning of "Walls of the Cave", the stellar jam more than made up for it. The song is still one of my favorite set closers.

The second set started like the first - with another double-dose funk throwdown, this time with a thick, meaty "Ghost" and a fun "No Man in No Man's Land". A segue into "Piper" kept things moving until, after 40 minutes of big dance-able grooves, things slowed down with "Twenty Years Later" which - surprise - ended up being the MVP jam of the night. It was noisy (in a good way) and completely trippy and psychedelic. The fact that I was in the GA floor section did not hurt, as the lighting rigs literally moved up and down and side to side, and enveloping me in all their glory. It was the kind of jam they usually do in "Split Open and Melt" these days (much to my chagrin), but working much better in this context.

On the flip side, I love "Show of Life" but stretching out the I-IV ending might have been better suited for "Mexican Cousin" or one of the other myriad I-IV songs in Trey's arsenal.

"2001" was a nice choice and I figured it would end the set as it began - with some funky grooves. But Trey wanted to rock, so he started "Character Zero", still using the chunky guitar tone from the "2001" jam that, in any other venue than an arena, would have been wildly inappropriate and noisy (in a bad way).

That, of course, did end the set and the icing on the cake was the "Harry Hood" encore that summed up the night in a nutshell - a few mistakes in the intro that were easily laughed off, a solid performance of the composed parts otherwise, and a jam was delightful, if not earth-shattering.

Saturday, August 11, 2018

Phish in Camden - Aug. 8, 2018



At the end of this hot show, I texted to my friend, Marshall, “Damn! What a show.  I guess they had to bring it hard tonight so we forgive them for playing in Camden.”

Sorry, Camden, for making you the butt of the joke again. But hey, at least no one was shot in town on Wednesday (that I know of), and no one died at the show (that I know of) as someone had the previous night. There were some other strange health emergencies near me during the evening, but I will get to that.

The show was, indeed, a hot one, including some fine jamming in the first set, especially by Page who tore it up on "Undermind" and on the best, tightest "My Sweet One" I have heard in years. The opening combo of "The Moma Dance" and "Free" set the mood perfectly for a set that had no problems being equally funky and rocking. After "Undermind", the guy behind me said, "They're going to slow it down, now," and sure enough, they started "Theme From the Bottom", but despite its tempo, it was huge and powerful. "Steam" was great to hear, especially as it was a big improvement over the limp previous version (7/31/18, which was not as slinky in its groove). Oddly, the sexiest Phish song ever included a long tease of the decidedly unsexy "Apostrophe" by Frank Zappa. Contrast!

The set was perfect until Trey started “Train Song” at too fast a tempo and then had trouble keeping up with the pace he set. Then, during “Halley’s Comet”, the weirdness started happening around me.

I think “Halley’s” was good, but I was distracted by the guy next to me who passed out on his feet and crashed to the ground. A few of us helped him up, only for him to hit the dirt mere seconds later. Without any ability to brace himself, his head hit so hard that his glasses flew off his head.  This time we were much more concerned, so we flagged down someone from security to get some medical help.  Thankfully, we were in the very front of the lawn section so all we had to do was look over the rail and call for help.

Security got there quickly. They seemed to determine that he was at least half-lucid. He could answer their questions but his body did not seem to be cooperating. They had a tough time getting the guy up because he kept stiffening his body and clutching the rail.  After they finally got him vertical, with two security guys and me keeping him propped up, he kept insisting that he did not need medical attention.  An extremely patient medical professional came over and the caring way she reasoned with him finally got him to plop into a wheelchair and get carted away.

No sooner were they on their way that the girl next to me on the other side went flopping to the ground!  On the plus side, security was still in the area, so they immediately tended to her as she started convulsing a bit.  They got another medic to the scene and, soon enough, wheeled her away too.

Ironically, during all this nonsense, the band was playing “Everything’s Right”.  At least I had a lot more dancing room as I was finally able to focus on the Phish show again; and just in time, too, because it was another one of those amazing jams that peaks, drops down, and then peaks again.  It was gorgeous, until Trey decided to awkwardly crash back into the chorus of the song to end it.

The second set started with “Julius”. Since the song has no chance of reaching its fiery peaks from the days of yore, its placement in the front of the set - rather than its typical set-ending, near-set-ending or encore slot – works much better these days. It set a great mood as a set opener at the Forum earlier this tour, and nailed it again in Camden.  Prior to these, it had been two years since “Julius” started a set (thanks to phish.net for the stats).  I think it is time that this becomes the norm.

A one-two punch of big jams followed with “Carini” and “Set Your Soul Free”, with Fish steering the former by subtly shifting the rhythm around, keeping Trey on his toes to follow. The latter featured a happy, upbeat jam to match the tone of this new entry in Trey’s string of positivity songs. Sadly, “Wingsuit” failed to sustain the intensity as it went on too long while Trey tried to force a second climax into its eighth minute, when an ending at its natural climax in the fifth minute would have been perfect.

The problem was definitely not the slow tempo because “Waste” worked perfectly well a little later in the set.  And that was after a massive “Scents and Subtle Sounds” that included the intro section for the first time since 2015, in the very same geographical area (the Mann in Philadelphia), even though they played the song six times since then.  What is it about the Philly area that brings the intro? (Thanks again to phish.net for the stats). Even more odd, though, was the jam, which usually follows a I-IV jam in the style of “Simple” but went to much weirder and darker places this time.  I cannot say it was better than usual, but it was certainly interesting.

Speaking of dark jams that are more interesting than good, that brings us to “Split Open and Melt”, which has been consistently as such in the entirety of the 3.0 era.  Freaky, spacey jams are great in “Carini” and “Waves” and even “Sand”, but “Melt” is different.  Sure, it is probably because I have been a fan long enough to remember the rip-roaring “Melt” jams of the ‘90s.  Try as I may, I have always had a tough time enjoying the new versions for what they are.

This one, however, could be subtitled the “How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the ‘Melt’” because something about the mixture of dark textures, hypnotic rhythms and insanely trippy lights caused me to finally let go and get fully immersed in its wonders.  This was easily the best “Melt” since the 1999 funk “Melt” in Holmdel.

With nothing left to do but bring the house down, Phish launched into “Character Zero”, taking the ending down for a little while for pauses to let the audience to its “woo” thing before kicking it back up to peak intensity for the big finish.  The encore of “Suzy Greenberg”, with Page yet again killing it in his piano solo, put the exclamation point on the night.

During set break, I saw a guy with a shirt that read, “I’D RATHER BE AT THE MANN”.  So would I, but I have to admit, despite the weird and sad things that happened in and around the venue, it ended up being a damn good couple of nights in Camden.

Wednesday, August 8, 2018

Phish in Camden, NJ - Aug. 7, 2018

Travelling to this venue in Camden has never been a great time.  The traffic getting into and out of the area, which is on the Jersey side of the Ben Franklin bridge to Philadelphia, is always a mess, and the fact that the city is not only in most "Worst Places in New Jersey" lists (due to high violent crime, poverty and unemployment rates), but Rolling Stone magazine once did an article about it called "Apocalypse, USA".

That article was five years ago and though the city does not look like it is about to win any awards any time soon, there does seem to be some improvement.  As I walked the streets, my thought was, "They're Jersey City-ing the place," - trying to build up the waterfront area to make it attractive for Philly commuters, but probably leaving the rest to rot as usual.

Adding further ire to music fans, when it is time to park, they charge $40 for the nearby lots and $30 to $40 to park in lots that are up to a mile away from the venue in spots that looked no safer than if we parked on the street.

Never one to let the bastards get one over on me, I drove around for a while and found a few blocks with street parking.  One of them was next to a Rutgers campus building and literally around the block from a spot where they were charging 30 bucks.  I put $4.25 in the meter and was on my way. Take that, bloodsuckers!

Another frustrating, though relatively minor, issue is with the name of the place.  I have seen Phish at this venue on six tours and the name has been the E Centre (1999 and 2000), the Tweeter Center (2003), the Susquehanna Bank Center (2011) and now the BB&T Pavilion. This naming rights nonsense is out of control.  That is why, at this point, I just refer to it as Camden.

Once in the venue, all was right with the world again. I bought a $15 beer, but at least I was still ahead from the parking situation.  Then, because I was early, I staked out a spot in the front of the lawn section, Page side.

"Crowd Control" is only played about once a year and, thankfully, usually at a show I'm attending (often at SPAC), and this was a great way to start my first Phish show of 2018.

The spotlight jam of the first set was "Blaze On", which followed a funky but standard "No Men in No Man's Land".  The new song by Mike Gordon, "Infinite", is so-so, but the dark jam that came out of it was interesting.

The rest of the set was entertaining and fun, but with little variation from the norm, with "Lawn Boy" and "Wilson" staying short and to the point.  Even the set-ending "David Bowie" clocked in at a mere 11 minutes.  "46 Days" lifted off a bit, but it wasn't as big as previous versions (and, hey, they do not always have to be).  "Rift" was good until Trey lost his mojo in the solo.

Placement is important with "Roggae" and "Sparkle", and while the former sat perfectly in the middle of the set, the latter was odd and unnecessary right before "Bowie".

It started raining lightly during "46 Days" and it turned into a full shower by set break.  Lightning in the distance had us worried that the remainder of the show might get delayed or canceled.  But "Down With Disease" started the second set, as it tends to do, while the rain still came down.  Clearly, they should have saved "Petrichor" for this show.  But the 20+ minute jam that came out of "DWD" was amazing.  There was so much movement, so much melody.  Such a fun ride.

The move to "Backwards Down the Number Line" showed that it works much better early in the set, rather than the later placement it often receives.  And its segue into "I Always Wanted It This Way" got me incredibly excited.  It is a fantastic song with a groove to which one can not help but dance.

After a well-placed and well-played "Miss You" (unlike at the Baker's Dozen on both counts), another huge, amazing jam came with "Light" as the rain finally subsided.  I wasn't sure if it was going to amount to much while it stayed rhythmic and mellow for a while, but Mike forced a key change and caused Trey to kick it up a notch.  Fantastic interplay with Fish pounding out a great beat on the toms kept me dancing for the entire 16 minutes.

At that point every song except "DWD" was from the 3.0 era, so it was time to kick it old school with a classic, if not remarkable "Mike's Song > I Am Hydrogen > Weekapaug Groove" to close the set. The latter two were lackluster, but it didn't matter. This set was already stamped with awesomeness.

I was surprised that it was already 11:35 as the set ended and figured the encore would be relatively short. To my delight, it was that 2010 ballad that most people disliked, but I loved then and still love now, "Show of Life".  As the crowd meandered to the exits, I enjoyed the first performance of the song in two years. It was a wonderful ending to a great show.

Leaving the venue was easy and the mile walk to my car was stress free. I never felt like I was in danger.  A person who parked on the street near me remarked about how surprised he was that both he and his car were OK.  Though there was a lot of traffic getting out of the city, it mostly went well.

So it seemed this area of Camden might not be so bad after all, until my wife called the next afternoon and told me about how two cops were ambushed and shot multiple times at 8:30 p.m., only about a mile from the venue.

<sigh> Camden. We had such high hopes for you.

Tuesday, June 19, 2018

Youngstown Marathon - June 3, 2018

A good night's sleep before a marathon - how often does that happen?  That is good omen, as far as I am concerned.

I got up at 5 a.m. feeling rested and ready.  I got some coffee for Gloria, stretched a bit and we left the motel at around 6. I still had plenty of time to get to the race site, park the car (the lot was across the street from the start line), stretch some more, and even run a warmup mile before the 7 a.m. start time.  Only at small races can that be possible.

Though this race was indeed small, it was extremely well organized.  Every mile was marked, every turn had signs and volunteers, and even several intersections that did not have turns had people there to keep runners on track. If you know my history, you know my biggest fear is a poorly marked course, because one wrong or missed turn can ruin months of training, so this was the greatest gift the organizers could give.

With my course notes in hand, I shot out with the frontrunners on Boardman-Canfield Road, but that was brief because it was clearly too fast. We turned onto the hiking/biking path near the golf course, and I hit the first mile marker at 6:41. It was imperative that I slow down immediately or risk the consequences of a fast burnout.  So on this nice flat stretch of paved path, I brought it down to a 7:06 for the second mile.  But I was feeling too good, I guess, because mile three was a 6:55.

I did not intend to go that fast, and I honestly thought I was slowing down.  We crossed Shields Road to enter the beautiful park alongside Lake Newport and the gently rolling hills kept various muscles active while I startled myself with a 7:00 for the next mile, and if you probably can guess what I was thinking next:

I'm in PR territory here.

A 7:01 pace would net me an all-time best of 3:03(:xx), and I already had a 22-second cushion, which meant I could do 7:02s for the rest of the race and nail it.

I told all of this to the half-marathoner who was running next to me during the fifth (7:01) and sixth (7:10) miles and he wished me well.  I kept pushing past him on the uphills and he kept catching up to me on the downhills.  He was impressed with the way I tackled the hills and I told him it is all about hill training.  I hate it, but it is effective.  "This is where you leave me," he said, as we ascended a relatively big uphill in the seventh, and he had to turn around at his halfway mark soon anyway.

Brimming with confidence, I hit a 7:03, a 6:54 and a 6:57 in the next three miles as we ran over a little bridge and into another section of lovely park (this time alongside Lake Glacier), then out of the park and onto the streets of the Mahoning Commons section.

Mindful of how quickly things could go bad, I took it down to a 7:04, 7:11 and 7:16 for miles 10, 11 and 12.  I still had a decent cushion and I figured it was probably a good time to start using it. With almost half the race behind me, and the largest hill of the race in the 12th mile, slowing down was no longer difficult, it was inevitable, as we made a loop through Downtown Youngstown and then another loop around Youngstown State University and its impressive Stambaugh Stadium.

The 13th mile took us back down the big hill as we headed to the bridge again to retrace our steps through Mahoning Commons and into the park around Lake Glacier.  The downhill gave me one last sub-7 mile with a 6:59, but I could feel that my leg turnover required a little more effort into the 14th (7:12) and 15th (7:14) miles.  These were still amazing splits that I would take any day, but that damn PR idea kept nagging at me.

I felt my pace dragging in the 16th mile (7:32), so it was time to make a big decision - do I supplement my fuel with the Gu packet I had been carrying, or do I stick to the Gatorade and water?  Not taking it meant risking a continued fade in my energy and my split times; but taking it meant the possibility of the stomach problems that tend to plague me if I eat anything before or during a race.

I took half the Gu, hoping it would give me a needed energy spike but not be enough to cause any gastronomic issues.

Giving it a little more effort into miles 17 and 18, I was able to bring my splits down a bit with a 7:20 and 7:24, but I was about a minute and a half behind my PR time.  The Gu must have kicked in, though, because the next three miles were 7:19, 7:22, and a surprising 7:14 as I danced through the aid station playing Taylor Swift in the 21st mile.

Things were clearly copacetic with my tummy, and even though a PR was out of reach now, I took the rest of the Gu, figuring I would cruise my way into a fourth-best ever marathon, with a time between 3:07 and 3:10.  At this point, I only had a little over a half-hour left of running, so there should be no time for the Gu to have any adverse effect.  This was going to turn out awesome.

But then, the Gu hit bottom and my belly started feeling weird.

A passing cyclist (who was probably a volunteer checking in on racers) slowed alongside me to chat, which was exactly what I did not want to do at that point.  I told him I was doing OK, that I was gunning for a 3:07 and that I was enjoying the race.  He asked where I was from, and upon getting the answer, he replied, almost startled, "You came from New Jersey, just for this race?" which is something I have heard several times in my travels to marathons across the country. So, of course, I had to tell him about my 50-state objective, despite wanting desperately for the conversation to be over.

Eventually, he went ahead to check on the other runners on the Lake Newport loop.  I hit a 7:19 for Mile 22 and, incredibly, another 7:19 for Mile 23 as I began to pass runners that were on the first half of the loop (in Mile 19).

But this would be no cakewalk into a fourth-best anymore because my tum-tum was tightening up.  Seriously, it felt like there was an imaginary fist inside my gut, gripping my stomach and squeezing it with all its might.  The last three miles would be a struggle to outlast the pain and get into the finish before it got worse.

The 24th mile felt like forever as I tried to adjust to the discomfort, but somehow I managed a 7:22.  As I rounded out the Newport loop through a short path that put me back on Newport Drive and across Shields Road to the hike/bike path on which we ran those early miles, things got dire.  I was grunting and groaning in increasing agony as I passed a lot of folks that were walking the half-marathon.

Mile 25 - another eternity, yet still a surprising 7:48 (yes, an hour and a half after my last sub-7, I was amazed by a sub-8).  But I would be lucky to hit at 3:10 at this point.

A short cut-through out of the park and led to the suburban streets for the last mile.  Hunched over in my agony, right leg flailing (as it tends to do when I do not or can not concentrate on my gait) I looked at the lawns, garbage cans, mailboxes, squirrels...anything to give my mind something to do other than focus on the fact that now my stomach felt like it was being wrung like a wet towel.

Look at the signs...A left on Ronjoy Place...around the curve onto Ronlee Lane...a right onto Ronpark Place...hahaha...what's with all the Rons?  Oh god, this hurts...

Mile 26 was 8:12.  Dismal by the standards of the race I was running, but not as bad as races in which I hit the wall from muscle fatigue.  Clearly, if this had gone on longer (or if I had taken the Gu even earlier), each subsequent mile would be 20 to 30 seconds slower than the last.  But the finish line was now in sight on this final straightaway and I could see Gloria, my beautiful wife, waving and calling my name, with some total strangers that she had prepped to all cheer me on as I passed.  That is Gloria - if I do not have a cheering section, she will make one.


With the clock in view, I saw 3:09 and thought I might get in under 3:10 but, alas, the remaining stretch was just a bit too long for that, and I came in with a respectable 3:10:34, my fifth best marathon, only slightly behind Myrtle Beach's 3:09:44 and very slightly ahead of Lower Potomac River's 3:10:45.

The Youngstown Marathon, only in its second year, is a fantastic race and a great addition to the big-time famous events elsewhere in the state.  I recommend it to any traveler from east of Ohio that wants to take part in a small, but high quality and well-organized race where the people are friendly, the course is lovely and fairly easy to moderate, the vibe is excellent, and the drive is manageable.  Just don't stay at that Rodeway Inn.

I beat my average marathon time, nailed my eighth Boston qualifying time (3:15:00 for men ages 40 to 44) and came away with a result of which I am truly proud, stomach problems and all.  As I told my co-worker and fellow runner, "A 3:10 is a 3:10, no matter how you get there."