Not much improvement, a month later

It has been more than a month since the injury.  No improvement in my condition in the past two weeks.  

Another couple of days of jogging a slow mile and walking for 20 minutes still end in pain in my back.  

Five days in a row now without running; three days of doing nothing at all. 

Aside from recording a lot of new music, I am not even enjoying the extra free time.  

I want to run.

Not running, very much unlike an antelope

Christmas morning. Felt fantastic. With no races on the schedule for the first time in years, it was a week of fun running. No plans, just miles. How about six before seeing the family for holiday festivities? Heck, make it seven.

Solid pace...moving fluidly....smiling....singing...happy...right through mile six...

The nagging ache in my lower back appears. It creeps down to my buttocks.  The ache becomes a pain, which starts shooting down into my leg. What *is* this? My whole right side, from back to leg is killing me by the time I finish that last mile. I limp home and spend Christmas hunched over, unable to walk or even stand without pain or discomfort.

Rest day. Then try to go out the next. Can not even get started moving. Two more rest days. Walk a mile in agony. Three more. Jog a mile in utter pain. Awful.

Was I not recently running sub-6 miles? Now I can barely move.

Two weeks go by. See a physical therapist. Not impressed. No real answers. Forget about going to a doctor, though. I do not trust those drug pushing ghouls.

So I wait, feeling slightly better each day. But it is slow...and it drives me a little mad.

Appetite comes and goes in weird waves. Some days I eat practically nothing. Others, I gorge until my stomach aches. I gain a only a few pounds, but I feel like an elephant.

Sleep is completely out of wack. Can not rest at night. Exhausted during the day.

The worst part of being a runner is not running. When the brain wants it - needs it - and body rejects it, that is hell.

Try to distract - make some music, watch some movies, get together with friends. But I just...want...to...run.

23 days after the initial incident, I ran - no, jogged - a mile and a half. Severe discomfort. That is an improvement.

Next day, a slow mile on icy roads. Took a spill. Banged up my knee. Did not care. Needed to be out there. One more rest day. Try again tomorrow. Will not give up.

Passaic Chanukah 5K

My final race of the season,  the year, and possibly for a long time (more on that in the next post) was quite anti-climactic.

This new Chanukah race in Passaic, though well intentioned, was not well organized. The director was a super-nice guy, but needs help if he wants to bring it back for a second year.

The vibe among the small crowd gathered at the Boathouse in Third Ward Park on that chilly late-December morning was pleasant. But from the outset, there was some confusion: What, exactly, is the course? Why do I see no markings? Is someone going to direct us?

We were told that the course was three times around the park's loop, but those of us unfamiliar with the park were not sure what the "loop" was. After several explanations, we finally got it, and the race was now running late as we walked to the start line.

But where was the start line? Clearly this was not an officially measured course by the USATF. As we grouped in a designated area, someone asked where the line was. "Right where you are," was the reply, but there was no clear line and we racers like exactitude.

The "go" command was given and we ran the supposed tenth of a mile leading to the beginning of the one-mile loop. As we neared the clock, I saw the Compuscore guy still fiddling with it. He had not started the clock yet!

I finally saw it start just as I was passing. OK, I thought, I'll either have to extrapolate my time one-tenth, or count this as a three-miler.

The three front-runners blasted ahead, but I held my own behind them. I hit the first loop at just under 6:00 and tried to hang on to that pace for the next two. The slight incline on the back-end of the loop was offset by a fast decline, so it certainly was not a challenging course.  Perhaps that accounts for the relative steadiness of my pace as I knocked out mile two at just over 6:00.

Though I was passed by one guy, I was gunning it hard for the last loop, giving it all I had because - official race or not - I wanted to end my year with a bang. Expending all my effort, I was not able to get a definitive look at the clock, but I really thought it was somewhere in the 18:30s. Weird. Had the missed time been added?

I asked the Compuscore guy what the time differential was between the start of the race and the start of the clock. He blatantly lied and said there was none. I did not feel like arguing, so I retreated back to the Boathouse where there were no post-race snacks save for a couple of boxes of donuts. Anything else we wanted, we had to buy. At least we got a nice technical polyester shirt.

I found the race director, thanked him for the race, and left. But if he really wants to make this a worthwhile race for the future, he has a lot to learn. If you charge 25 bucks for a race, we expect a well-defined course, accurate timing, and at least some free bananas and maybe some bagels. I mean, come on - we can run anywhere, any time. If we are paying for it, we want to get something out of it.

The next day, I looked up the results online. My official time was 18:11. I know I trained hard, but I also know I do not have a 5:52 pace 5K in me. I think that time is for three miles, which would mean a much more realistic 6:00 pace. Still not a bad ending to a great year.

P.S. Don't forget to check out my NYC Marathon movie if you have not already!

NYC Marathon video!

At long last, here is the half-hour movie I made from the videos and photos I shot during this year's New York City Marathon.  I hope you enjoy it!

If you can't view it from here, try this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dS0KUf81cao

37 seconds of feeling like a pro

After a fantastic week of fast 400-meter intervals, a marathon-pace 13-miler, and easy short runs that were still strong, I crapped out on Thursday with an awful attempt at a tempo run, a six-miler that fell far short of the intended half-marathon pace, and an agonizing long run at a 8:45 pace.

Yesterday morning, I changed it up and did eight 200-meter intervals in preparation for this weekend's Passaic Chanukah 5K Race. The point of these short repeats was to push the pace as much as possible, to teach my body what it really means to truly go all out.

These short bursts averaged 38 seconds apiece, but one of those repeats was 37. This was monumentally significant. Why, you ask?
 
Since a mile is 1609 meters (or a slight bit more than four laps around the track), 200 meters (a half-lap) is roughly an eighth of a mile. Multiply 37 seconds by eight and you get 4:56.

That's right - for a little more than a half-minute, I ran at a sub-5:00 pace. Wow.

Of course, I would never be able to sustain that, even to 400 meters.  My best 400 was 1:18, four years ago, and that extrapolates to a 5:12 pace.  But for just a moment yesterdat - or 37 of them - I was able to feel the speed of the pros.  And it was quite amazing.

Trinity Academy Reindeer Run 5K

I have been following Hal Higdon's training programs since day one, so as per usual, the post-marathon plan was five weeks of marathon recovery, shifting gears to focus on the short and fast training. The plan culminates in a 5K and, I am happy to say, it often results in a PR or something close to it.

In fact, the last time I did it, in April after the Lower Potomac River Marathon, I did indeed (and rather unexpectedly) get a personal record at the Got 2B Safe 5K.  I wasn't expecting as much this time, but I threw my heart, soul and legs into this year's Trinity Academy Reindeer Run 5K with all my might.

I had run this race last year and nailed a third place overall finish with an 18:35.  So this year I knew to expect the incline for the first half and the decline for the second, and also that it consisted of only four turns, one of which is actually more like a veer than a pace-killing turn.

Expecting the competition to be similar to last year, I placed myself at the front at the start, so imagine my surprise when more than a dozen runners surged forth in front of me at the "go" signal.  Right off the bat, I watched the two major front-runners (at a sub-5:00 pace!) cruise off into the distance behind the pace car.

The first mile was clocked at 6:05, which was not acceptable; not with the speed work and pace runs I had been killing myself with, so I picked up the pace, no matter how much it hurt.  And it did hurt.

There was no clock at the second mile marker and I did not care, because no matter what numbers were, it would not have detracted from the mission of the next six minutes - to run as absolutely fast as I possibly could.

As I did just that, I started closing in on the teenager ahead of me. But as I got close, he must have heard me coming up behind him, so he pulled away.  This only caused me to push more.  And because I chased that kid with all my might, I saw the clock at the finish line - directly placed, rather unfortunately, after the one hard sprint-wrecking 90-degree turn - still in the 18:00 range.

I finished with an 18:40 (which means I averaged 5:57 for the second and third miles - nice!), only five seconds off of last year's result, but with this year's stiff competition, I placed 15th.  Still, of the 38 dudes in my new age group of 40-44, I placed Numero Uno and that makes me feel extra good about the work I put into it (not to mention the comfy, warm winter hat I received as a prize!).  Plus, 13th out of 341 total males and 15th out of more than 700 is something of which I am certainly proud. 

This race has everything I like in a 5K - a great course, a friendly vibe (great for families, by the way, with lots of kids' activities), wonderful people, excellent organization, and plenty of post-race bagels, bananas and hot chocolate.  And it is at a perfect time of year to recharge after an October or November marathon.  I may very well do it again next year.

Full results: www.compuscore.com/cs2014/novdec/caldrein.htm

Summers of 1994, 2004 and 2014

They sound like a band on a mission, crossing the country with a new album in tow and a sense of purpose. They hit the new songs hard, and long before the tour even ends the new tunes are instant classics - jam vehicles that soar, pop numbers that swing, funk that shakes. Everyone leaves the shows feeling good about what they experienced, and the hardcore fans are excited to hear what comes next. 

That description applies equally to Phish in the summers of 1994 and 2014. 

Of course, in 1994 they played a heck of a lot more shows. They were in the process of conquering the country, making sure every college kid got a taste of this new thing they were offering. Summer tour that year was an extension of the spring tour, as they promoted 'Hoist' while perfecting and stretching the songs of the first Phish decade. I defy you to find one "Tweezer" that was not phenomenal; a "David Bowie" that did not destroy everyone by the time of its frenzied ending; or a "You Enjoy Myself" that did not serve its multiple purposes of booty-shaking, nirvana-reaching and vocal weirdness. 

While each show was stunning in its own right, there is an amazing arc that can be heard when listening to all of it straight through. The band is still improving and the audience is still learning what these guys are all about. Audiences were being encouraged to follow along on these strange musical journeys - the Gamehendge story was told in its entirety for the last two times. Musical teases and references were being carried over from one show to the next. A connection developed between band and audience, linking show to show. 

The jams were wild and experimental, the solos were raging and peaking, the bluegrass was fast and energetic. However, Phish had not quite learned how to reach the depths of dirty funk yet. A friend of mine once differentiated music that sounded vertical vs. horizontal. I can not explain it, but I totally got it. Phish was very vertical at the time; it would be a few years before they got horizontal. 

Twenty years later, Phish has lost the youthful energy that sent every "Split Open and Melt" wailing into the stratosphere, made every "Run Like an Antelope" a thorough workout, and made every "Sparkle" end with such frenetic speed that it was difficult to even find the downbeat. But experience, patience and practice has breathed new life into the oldest songs and given the new tracks the meat on which to gnaw. 

"Everybody gets a 'Fuego'" was a meme on Twitter as Phish broke its old rule about playing any songs two nights in a row. And why not? "Fuego" is such a fantastic new song that to deprive a one-show venue of it just because it was played at the previous one is ridiculous. 

Phish made its own rules and broke them as summer 2014 got underway. It continued the no-cover-songs edict that began when they broke that other rule last Halloween about covering another artist's album. Then the band broke that rule, too, as covers started creeping back in. 30 years into their career together, these four guys still know how to keep us guessing. 

While "Tweezer" took a backseat as the major powerhouse, other classics like "Chalk Dust Torture" and "Bathtub Gin" kept the jam juices flowing. Elsewhere, the funk of "Sand", the bright positivity of "Light", and the accelerating tension of "Piper" provided forums for the kinds of improvisation that could not have been achieved 20 years ago. The 1994 Phish certainly did not have the greasy groove of "555" or effortlessly silly syncopation of "Wombat". 

Plus, what Phish lacked in amount of shows this summer, it made up for in length of each. The average 1994 show was around two and a half hours. The average 2014 show exceeded three, with one show in Maryland (the wackiest show of the tour, with crazy song segues and a hilarious Jon Fishman vocal/vacuum turn) clocking in at three and a half. I can run a marathon to that show. 

And then there is the summer of 2004. Coming halfway between a summer of growth and a summer of rebirth, it was a summer of finality. The announcement came in May that the June and August shows would be the last. My tour buddy for the first leg, Jesse Jarnow, said at the time that he wanted it to be like a Viking funeral. 

At first, I thought he might have gotten his wish for a two month ending that sent the whole thing off in a glorious blaze. The first few shows were surprisingly good, with killer jams, tight execution and a surprise visit from Jay-Z. But the ship started sinking prematurely when it became obvious that Trey Anastasio had such a hard time playing the parts he had written. 

The plus side was that for every flubbed composed part, there was a jam around the corner that went places the band had never gone before and would only occasionally visit since. Every jam was long and weird. It was not unusual for a set to have only five or six songs, for jams to go on for 20 minutes. For that alone, 2004 holds a special place for me. 

Still, the final weekend in Coventry was a mess. I shudder to think of the difficulties getting there - sitting still on a highway for 36 hours, waiting for something to happen; getting out and walking when they said the mud was too thick to let any more cars in; being driven closer to the venue by locals for five bucks. And I cringe when I listen to how poorly almost every song was played (though there were some good bits). Instead of a fantastical, fiery send-off, it all landed with a thud. 

The "4" summers are all important parts of the 30-year Phish story. 1994 saw the band reaching new heights in an arc that would continue for another five years. 2004 brought the band's second era to a disappointing and confusing close. And 2014 echoed 1994 as the trajectory of musical growth that began anew five years ago continues to rocket skyward.