John Samra Memorial 5K, Clifton, NJ - Oct. 20, 2019

As you age, you know it is going to happen.  It is inevitable.  At some point, your legs simply can not propel you as quickly as they once did.  

For the past few years, I had wondered not so much when, but how it would happen.  Would it be a quick demise, like I thought it would be after the car accident in 2013 permanently messed up my back?  Nope - I ran my fastest 5Ks after that.  Or would it be a gradual decline, losing a few seconds a year, as I had begun to do shortly after those amazing sub-18 races in 2016? 

Apparently not.  For even though my 5K times had slipped to the low 18s in 2017 and the mid-18s in 2018, I chalked that up to not specifically training for those races (I had been in the middle of marathon training) and tough conditions (hilly courses, cold winter days).

But there I was in Clifton on Sunday morning, doing my fourth 5K in 10 weeks, having trained for them using Hal Higdon's Advanced 5K program, and I found myself in yet another struggle to try to get under 19 minutes. I had broken 19 minutes for the first time 11 years ago and had continued to do it at least once a year (except 2017, when I ran no 5Ks) through last year. 

In fact, the first time I ran the John Samra Memorial 5K - in 2009 - I obtained a PR with an 18:30.  It was the first time my average pace was sub-6.

I may be getting slower, but I still take my place at the front of the start line.
That's me in the blue skull cap and navy blue shirt.

I ran it again two years later, with a 19:09 and this year's looked to be more like that one. Perhaps I could blame that hill in the first mile.  After blasting out of the city's municipal complex on this crisp October morning with no wind, and onto Colfax Avenue, I took the left onto Clifton Avenue, for the tough uphill.  Somehow, I managed a 5:53.  Off to a surprisingly great start, I wondered if I was finally back in sub-19 shape.  

Around the curve and back on flat land, the left onto 3rd Avenue followed by the right onto Washington brought me to the spot (commemorated by a fire truck with an enormous American flag) where the race's namesake - a Clifton cop - was tragically killed.  Around the block to get back onto 3rd, I was in third place and watching the middle-to-back of the pack running toward me, many offering encouragement.  I saw my buddy, Ed Holster (a Clifton cop himself) hoofing along, as well. Mile two was 6:06.

I had lost some time, but was still in sub-19 territory.  Not only that, but I had that hill coming again, but this time, I was going down.  I tried to extend my legs, but I could feel it starting to hurt.  And the memory of that pain from those long, downhill strides at the end of the Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon held me back from pushing my legs into full extension.  Worse still, we passed Colfax Avenue in order to proceed to Van Houten Avenue and enter the municipal complex from the opposite side, and that involved going up one more hill. With only a half-mile to go, I was quickly petering out.  A 6:28 third mile, and nothing left in the tank to sprint to the end.

Rounding the final curve next to Clifton City Hall.

Rounding the corner toward City Hall, I heaved my body forward as best as I could, with my lovely wife, Gloria cheering me on once again.  I finished with a 19:22 - my slowest race in more than 10 years.  

Pushing to the end.

So with PRs long gone, and even a sub-19 unattainable, it is clear that age is finally taken its toll.  At 45, I am on the decline.  I will have to live with that; what choice do I have? 

After the race, I told Gloria that I was done racing for the year.  It was too depressing to train harder and while getting worse results.  So, no more.  Done.  That is it.  Finito for 2019.

Naturally, on Monday, I started training for a December 10K.

Did I mention that I somehow came in third place overall?

Ed and me, post race.

(All photos by Gloria Galioto)

Run Little Falls 5K - Oct. 6, 2019

During the eight years that I  lived in the Township of Little Falls, N.J., I ran the Passaic Valley Rotary River Run 5K six times.  I got a few PRs at that autumn race, as my short game improved year after year, culminating in my peak in 2016. I moved out of the town that year, and at some point since then, that race ceased to exist.  

To my delight, I found out that a new race - Run Little Falls - was debuting this fall in Little Falls and it would coincide perfectly with my current 5K training cycle.  

Though training had not exactly gone well - days of fatigue and lots of pain in my legs, especially my left hamstring - I was excited to go back to my old hometown and race on the streets I had come to know so well. 

With fewer than 200 participants, it was not a big race, but a nice turnout for a brand new event.  Even more impressive was that it seemed like the town's residents were really behind it.  Looking at the results sheet, one might guess that half of the participants were from Little Falls.  Even the mayor ran it.  

Funny side note about that: the T-shirts that all the participants received read, "I'm not the mayor, but I Run Little Falls."  That is, all the participants except one - Mayor Damiano's read, "I AM the mayor, and I Run Little Falls"!

The race started on the track of Passaic Valley High School - the very track on which I did years of interval training - and the course led us onto Main Street, Cedar Grove Road and Wilmore Road for the first mile, which I ran in 6:09.  Already I could see that there had been no improvement since Surftown, but like that race a month ago, the competition was quite soft and I was in third place, and closing in on second.

Turning onto Prospect Street and up the course's one hill, I pulled into second and stayed there for the remainder of the race.  The leader, 22-year-old Sean Lang was long gone.  Maybe a few years ago, I could have kept up with his 5:42 pace, but no longer.  As I crested the hill and did the quick turns on Stevens Avenue, Walnut Street and Union Avenue before getting back onto Main Street, I tried to maintain the pace I had established and came close with a 6:12. 

The downhill came halfway through the third mile, so I pushed into it with all my might, opening up my stride and much as it would go.  My legs were hurting again, and I thought my left hamstring was going to seize up, as it had been doing all year when put under great stress.  I squeaked out a 6:00 for that last mile.

Those times, of course, are from my Garmin, which always seems to cause some discrepancies.  I gave it everything I had getting onto the track at the high school again and finished with a 19:10, which would mean that the last tenth of a mile took 49 seconds.  That is absurd, though, because it would equate to an 8:10 pace.  Sure, I may have slowed down in my fatigue, but not that much, especially not at the end of a 5K.

So, once again, either my Garmin is calculating miles too short, or the course was too long.  But either way, I do not really care.  I trained for a race and I ran the race.  I put my best effort into it and came out of it with another worthwhile experience...and a $20 gift certificate to Dick's Sporting Goods for winning my age group.  Not bad for a morning out in the old town.

Surftown 5K - Westerly, R.I. - Sept. 8, 2019

After my less-than-spectacular return to the 5K last month, I was determined to get back into a heavy-duty training program for the next eight weeks, which would culminate in the Run Little Falls 5K in my old hometown.  So I returned to Hal Higdon’s Advanced 5K program for the first time in seven years in hopes that I could at least knock a minute or so off of my time from the Dover race.

As is typical with the Hal Higdon programs, a practice race is prescribed halfway through the training.  It is a good way to gauge how well things are going, and it provides a much-appreciated extra rest day, the day before the race. 

My midway 5K came on Sept. 8, the first day of my weeklong wedding anniversary vacation to Block Island, so Gloria and I found a race at Misquamicut Beach in Westerly, R.I., just over the border from Connecticut (and one town west of Weekapaug, a little town forever memorialized in song by Phish).  The Surftown Half Marathon & 5K, hosted by the Hartford Marathon Foundation, is actually more the former than the latter, with about a thousand participants running the 13.1 and some stiff competition in the lead pack (everyone in the top 10 did a sub-6 pace!); and about half that doing the 5K, with a very soft field (spoiler - nobody did a sub-6 pace!).

I have been doing speed training for eight weeks now, so I figured my muscles would remember how to go fast and stay fast for at least a little while – certainly this race would be an improvement over the last one, right?

Reluctantly, I planted myself toward the front of the pack at the start line and pushed off hard at the go signal.  I knew that at least the first mile, west along Atlantic Avenue and parallel to the beach, was going to be flat, so I threw myself into it, surprisingly breaking into the lead for the first few tenths of a mile.  Shortly thereafter, though, 26-year-old Caitlin Abelseth pulled ahead of me and stayed in the front for the rest of the race, eventually winning with a well-run, but relatively slow 18:47 (I have run races where I barely won my age group, let alone the whole megillah, with a time like that).  Her movement was swift, her pace consistent and her form impeccable.  I bet she is capable of much more than that 6:02 pace.  It seemed effortless for her. 

Firmly in second place, I turned right onto Maplewood Avenue and hit the first mile marker with a 6:04.  Already, though, I could tell this was not going to go as well as I had hoped.  A left onto Bayberry Road brought us to another left onto Ocean View Highway and only a small incline before the turnaround.  My second mile was not any better, with a 6:11.  And I was already out of gas.  What has happened to me?

At that point, my head was swirling with thoughts like, “It’s really over – my best racing days are behind me.  What’s the point anymore?  Why am I doing this?  I’m going to be 45 soon and now my age is finally catching up to me.”

My age was not the only thing catching up to me – 15-year-old Ryan Reed, an obvious track kid, was behind me the whole race, but dug into his reserves and passed me on the final stretch along Atlantic Avenue.  I, however, had no reserves.  I felt heavy and leaden; my legs felt like rubber; and I wanted it to be over.  I pushed as hard as I could, looking for anything – any burst of energy or extra gear or hidden strength to surge to the finish line.  But there was no surge to be had.  My third mile was a 6:13. 

A race that I would have won handily a year ago ended up being my slowest 5K in four years (when I came back from a six-month hiatus from an injury).  Instead of improving upon my Dover result, I blew it and ran a 19:18 - my second worst race of the last 10 years or so.

It was frustrating and heartbreaking (as well as tiring and painful).  And yet, there was my wonderful wife, Gloria, putting it all into perspective for me – reminding me that I had managed to come in third place overall; that the people that beat me were decades younger than I; and that this race was only part of my training, and not the finished product of my training regimen.  Most of all, while I was busy being hard on myself, she was proud of me for another race accomplishment.

So, there you have it.  I gave it my all.  My all is not what it was a year ago and will probably be even less than that a year from now.  And yet, I should be proud? 

Damn right, I should.  And I will be proud three weeks from now in Little Falls, knowing that, once again, I will bring my best game, whatever it may be, as a 45-year-old guy that has nothing left to prove.