Trinity Academy Reindeer Run 5K - Dec. 6, 2020

Feeling like I had one more shot at a decent 5K in 2020, I went back to one of my familiar early December courses - the Trinity Academy Reindeer Run in Caldwell. 

I ran this race in 2013, 2014 and 2018, with a finish time of 18:35, 18:40 and 18:20, respectively.  Now, two years after my fastest course time, things are dramatically different.

After bounding down that first short hill on Hatfield Street, the work began after the turn onto Smull Avenue.  For the next mile and a half, I pushed uphill with all my might, disappointed at how much slower I was running compared to a mere two years ago.  My heart sank when the first mile clocked in at 6:51.  

What the hell happened to me this year?  Is it possible that I had COVID and did not even know it, and now I am feeling the after effects of shortness of breath while my heart feels like it is struggling to pump hard enough to meet the level of activity I am trying to perform?  Or am I just getting old?

Whatever it was, I needed to crest this damn hill, now on Mountain Avenue, and finally did so, turning onto Forest Avenue with a 6:49 second mile.  

All that was left to do was make up as much time as possible on the downhill to the finish line.  A 6:05 third mile was the best I could muster, finishing the race at 20:24, more than two minutes slower than 2018.  

So that is it.  No more 5Ks for a while.  No speed work.  No tempo runs.  For the next few months, I will do some marathon training - going for long, slow miles.  And maybe, just maybe, I can enjoy the run for sake of it.

Passaic Valley Rotary Run 5K - Nov. 28, 2020

Hi!  Remember me?  I used to run sub-18 5Ks.  Almost every time.  For nine straight years.  

And who am I now?  Not that guy.  I am the guy that used to be that guy.  But if I have to settle for that, then for the usual 5K that comes a month after a marathon, I would run a course that I had mastered when I was that guy.

Ah, Little Falls, my old stomping grounds.  I had run the Passaic Valley Rotary Run six times between 2008 and 2015, with times that varied from 19:21 in 2009 to 18:08 in 2015.  I lived in that township during those years and had run most of the roads.  I knew that course so well, I could do it with my eyes closed. So at least I would not have to worry about that aspect of it.  

What did worry me was that even though I was relentlessly doing speed work, I was getting slower with every passing week.  Just a couple of years ago, I could cover more than six miles in a 40-minute tempo run, getting down to a six-minute pace or better in the middle; now I can barely muster much more than 5.5 and the fast miles are not that fast.  Speaking of fast miles, when doing mile repeats, none of them are even getting near the 6-minute mark, whereas in 2018, I could blast out sub-6s.

Still, at the get-go on McBride Avenue from the Little Falls Recreation Center into Woodland Park, I managed a 6:10 first mile, turning onto Lackawanna Road and then Riverview Drive in Totowa, along the Passaic River, and that gave me a glimmer of hope.

I knew there was a hill coming and I geared myself up for it - push hard enough to get up quickly, but not so hard that it would deplete all my energy. Unfortunately, I failed on both counts - that mile ended up being 6:47 as I turned onto Union Boulevard and then Walnut Street, and it took the wind right out of my sails.  

The third mile, on Prospect Street, First Avenue, Wilmore Road and, finally, Maple to Paterson Avenue and straight downhill to the Rec Center was labored, and I only managed a 6:28.  My final time was 19:56.  Slower than even the first time I ran that course 12 years ago.  Slower than every 5K I have raced since 2007.

I went home, showered, ate pancakes and tried to not be depressed.  

Hartford Marathon - Hartford, CT - Oct. 10, 2020

When I hit the halfway point in South Windsor, CT, at around one hour and 47 minutes, I had already known that finishing in less than four hours would be more difficult than ever on this warm October day.  But I still was not expecting to fail as spectacularly as I did.

We got on the road at around 9 a.m. and made it to the start point at the Capitol Building in Hartford at around 11:15.  I did some warmups and was ready to go by 11:30.  I felt a bit bogged down by all the stuff I was carrying, but I had to soldier on.  I had my phone (for music and to call Gloria if anything went wrong), my license and insurance card (in case anything went really wrong), my GoPro (to take video of this very different marathon experience), my 20-ounce bottle of diluted Gatorade, and detailed turn-by-turn notes on dozens of pieces of three-by-four note paper.  

The latter was the most cumbersome, but the most important.  I had spent hours combing over the course map (from certifiedroadraces.com) and using Google Earth to get an on-the-ground look at all the twists and turns, as well as landmarks for which to look.  And yet, I still somehow missed a turn in the first mile. It killed my momentum and started me on the road to stressing out (I also thought I had lost my license, but it was buried in my pocket).  I had only been running for five minutes, so I walked back to the Capitol Building and started over. 

This time, on the right track, I proceeded to run the five turns in the first two miles - 7:29 and 7:59. That was probably too fast, but with the multitude of cars and confusing street signs - and enough pedestrians to make it necessary for me to wear a face mask - I was uncomfortable, I was stressed, I had to pee, and I could not get out of downtown fast enough. 

Things went a little more smoothly heading north and into Riverside Park, with my third mile at 7:45.  Thankfully, there was a portable restroom in the park, so I made use of it and set out onto the trail along the Connecticut River where I was a bit more comfortable (though I still wore the mask because of the other people walking the narrow path) and was able to get rid of the first bunch of pages of my course notes.

Deliberately slowing down through the rest of the park trail (8:10 for mile four), then back into downtown Hartford (8:05 for mile five), I navigated the next four turns to get me to the Founders Bridge over the river and into East Hartford, with a sixth mile at 8:06.  Five more turns in the seventh mile (7:55) on thankfully less-busy streets got me back onto a trail, this time in Great River Park, on the other end of which, at the eighth mile (8:39), Gloria met me with cold water and moral support, both of which I already needed.

In mile nine (8:32), the course started getting a little easier along East River Drive, with a turn onto Route 5 (Main Street), though the busy road did not make for much fun.  A turn into a residential neighborhood made things better in mile 10 (8:18), but the straightaway on Prospect Street had me confused and frustrated because I knew I had to turn back onto Main Street, but *none* of the intersections had street signs.  Frustration saps energy, so when I finally found Main, my 11th mile time was 8:45 - my slowest yet.  

That was fine.  I wanted to slow down.  The temperature was now in the 70s and it was relentlessly sunny.  The next turn was onto King Street, and once again there was a lack of street signs, getting me all tense again.  Seriously, East Hartford - you really suck with your signage.

Finally on King Street (8:35 for mile 12), I could relax because there was only one more turn (8:35 for mile 13) and then there would be nine blessed miles on the relatively peaceful Main Street (but not Route 5 - as I said, it was confusing) in South Windsor.

Unfortunately, by this point, I was already losing steam.  This was the part of the race to which I was looking forward, but I could not even enjoy it.  It was far too early to be running out of gas, yet it was happening rapidly - 8:59 for mile 14, 9:14 for mile 15, 9:27 for mile 16 and, at the turnaround, 10:09 for mile 17.

Nine more miles to go and I knew there was no chance of anything getting any better.  My legs were getting leaden and my stomach was twisting in knots.  I walked for a while and Gloria pulled up alongside me in the car at around mile 18 (11:35).  She gave me some more cold water - I downed two bottles.  I was clearly dehydrated.  I had gotten accustomed to doing long runs in the heat during the summer, but recent weeks had been cooler and this unexpected spike in temperature caught my body off guard.  It was obvious by now that this would be the first time it would take me more than four hours to finish a marathon.

My condition worsened as running turned to jogging in mile 19 (12:17), then a jog/walk in miles 20 and 21 (13:04 and 12:24), and then walking in mile 22 (14:04). 

Back on Route 5, after Gloria went ahead to meet me at a later point, I called her and told her I would be walking the rest of the way (and that I was sorry that she would have to wait around for the next hour or so).  Along Prospect Street again (15:58 for mile 23), even walking was difficult, as I slowed to a trudge (17:32 for mile 24). 

Stopping for a moment to dry heave as my stomach continued its revolt against the rest of my body, I finally made my way to Pitkin Street (20:13 for mile 25) and onto the Founders Bridge, where I finally vomited whatever my stomach could produce.  Gloria met me on foot during the last mile (21:14 for mile 26) and helped me slowly meander to the finish line, which I hit at a final time of 4:50:45, almost a full hour slower than my previous slowest marathon.  

While walking those last few miles, I spent a lot of time thinking about what went wrong.  My best guess is that a lot of small factors compounded into a what turned out to be a difficult and exhausting day.  Sometimes, everything - the weather, the mood, the course, the conditions - seems to fall into place (ah, Mississippi, less than two short years ago); but sometimes, nothing does.

At 46 years old, with 24 marathons under my belt, that has to be expected (especially in the weirdest year ever) and I have to be OK with it.  It means I am human, it means life throws curveballs, and it means that things can not always go as planned, no matter how much one plans.

Of course, it also means that I will probably be back in Hartford next year, trying again.

Marathon XXIV

The COVID era marches on with races canceled everywhere.  Frankly, even if they were not, I am not comfortable enough being around large groups of people anyway, so I would probably steer clear.

And yet...

The marathon into which I have entered has become a virtual marathon this year.  Participants can run it anywhere in the world and send the proof of their 26.2 miles from their Garmin or similar devices.  But that seems weird to me.  If I planned to run a marathon in a certain place on a certain date, well, I am going to do so. 

Thus, my 24th marathon will be of the virtual sort, but I am going to run the actual course (thank you, certifiedroadraces.com!) on the day.  I set out to run *this* marathon, so I am going to run *this* marathon.

Baker's Dozen Half Marathon - Montclair, NJ - Aug. 8, 2020

The pandemic has not, and will not deter me from my usual training cycles, and if that means all of my races are going to be my myself, then so be it.  It was never supposed to be about competing against other people or winning age group medals anyway.  Admittedly, it had been getting like that in recent years, with my ego running away with itself sometimes.  But in the end, it has always about me and the clock - setting personal records and training to perform at my best on race day.

Now, with my days of PRs behind me and speedwork becoming more difficult as I navigate the back half of my 40s, racing for the hell of it has never been more important.  I cannot say I get much joy out of short races anymore, but the challenge of marathons is as alluring as ever. 

So I continue with my marathon training schedule, and doing so (using Hal Higdon's Intermediate Marathon training program this time) requires running a half-marathon halfway through the 18-week program. 

Rather than try to find another new course, I decided to take another stab at the Baker's Dozen in Montclair, NJ.  I had specifically trained for that race a couple of months earlier and had a tough time with it - partially because it was a warm day, but mostly because I have been burning out in the speed department as I get older. 

This time, I would have more fun with it.  It was, after all, just a stepping stone in my marathon training program rather than the endgame of weeks of training.  Plus, I knew the course a lot better, so that helped me gauge when to push and when to conserve.

My first two miles, along Forest, Claremont, and North and South Mountain avenues, were almost exactly the same as six weeks before, with a 7:11 and a 6:50 (as compared to 7:10 and 6:49).  I strategically took the loop around Eagle Rock Way and Stonebridge Road a little more slowly (7:09, as opposed to 6:49 in June), and thought I was doing the same for the fourth mile up South Mountain Avenue (7:10, though I did a 7:09 last time).

The strategy was to conserve for the steep uphill on Claremont Avenue in the fifth mile.  I did that mile also on par with last time (7:53 vs. 7:54), but this time I did not expend as much energy and that made a big difference in the rest of the race.  So instead of already feeling fatigued in the sixth and seventh miles on the rolling hills of Highland Avenue, I felt strong as I hit a 7:12 and 7:05 (where I did 7:23 and 7:08 last time).  In the next few miles along Upper and North Mountain avenues, I tried to keep status quo (7:17, 7:35, 7:26 and 7:23) averaging one second faster in these miles as I did in June; but once again, I did not feel like I needed to push nearly as hard to get there.

Even on the seven-turn twister of mile 12, I kept it relatively steady with a 7:32 (7:34 last time) but did not have (or feel the need for) quite the closing kick as I did six weeks prior, tackling the last mile at 7:24 (7:14 in June).  Still, with a finish time of 1:35:52, I somehow managed to best my previous Baker's Dozen time by 17 seconds, making it my third slowest half-marathon ever, but somehow a little more satisfying now that I have accepted that my speed game is a thing of the past.  

This attitude took me through my triumphant double sub-four-hour marathon weekend earlier this year, which now seems like a lifetime ago on a different planet.  As long as this weird new world continues to change everything we do and the way we do it, my races will continue to be less formal and more personal; and I am heading into my first marathon of the COVID era with that approach.

Baker's Dozen Half Marathon - Montclair, NJ - June 28, 2020

When this race was introduced in 2017, I could not help but wonder if a bunch of Phish fans were behind its nomenclature.  After all, Phish's guaranteed-to-be-epic 13-night run of the same name had been announced in January of that year.  Then along comes this race in the spring in Montclair - a town sure to have its fair share of phans, as evidenced when the Trey Anastasio Band played at the Wellmont Theater in 2011 and 2013.  Coincidence?

Since I never got around to running the actual race (usually in March), this year's circumstances seemed like a good opportunity to finally give the course a whirl.

Having lived in neighboring Little Falls for eight years, I know a lot of the roads in Montclair, so much of the course was on familiar ground.  The race starts and ends at the Montclair Bread Company on Forest Avenue, in the eastern side of town, but this race hits just about every area except the northeast and southeast corners. 

(Race map: https://certifiedroadraces.com/certificate/?type=l&id=NJ17550JHP)

I had written out turn-by-turn directions to take with me, which was especially helpful in the early miles.  After turning off of Forest Avenue to head west on Claremont, there was already a bit of an incline.  I took it in stride, not letting out too much effort, and hit a 7:10 for the first mile after turning left on North Mountain Avenue and crossing Bloomfield Avenue (the main drag through downtown) to continue on South Mountain Avenue.  I can imagine that the locals, especially those in cars, are probably not too fond of this crossing on the actual race days.

Training had gotten pretty bad over the past couple of weeks, especially with speed work.  Tempo runs got slower and more painful; track intervals were more labored.  But as I hoofed it down South Mountain for the second mile (6:49) things started to feel like they were going to be OK.  With a loop around the southeastern section of town, along Eagle Rock Way and Stonebridge Road, my third mile stayed strong with a 6:46, but that would be the last sub-7 mile of this race.

Retracing the path back up South Mountain and crossing Bloomfield again, I could feel the slowdown  in the fourth mile (7:09), but the worst was to come when I turned left on Claremont Avenue and climbed a 115-foot incline.  I had to take the steep hill as gingerly as possible because I knew it would knock me out beyond recovery if I did not.  So after turning onto Highland Avenue, mile five ended up being 7:54, my slowest of any half-marathon ever.

The next two miles on the rolling hills going northbound on Highland Avenue (7:23 and 7:08) were followed by a right turn on Mt. Hebron and two miles southbound on Upper Mountain Avenue (7:16 and 7:29) and a left turn on Claremont to zig the zag northbound on North Mountain Avenue for another two miles (7:28 and 7:30).

During these miles, I could not help but think about how, a year and a half ago, these splits would have been slow for a marathon, let alone a half.  How had things gotten so slow, so quickly?

Worse, a nagging pain in what I assume was my piriformis muscle (deep in my right buttock) - something with which I had suffered a few years ago - started creeping in.  All I could hope to do was maintain the pace as best as I could through the twisty-turny next mile (7:34) along Parkside, Oakcroft, Brookfield, Edgemont, Parkway, Valley and Vera.  That was a lot of turns and the paper on which I wrote the street names was rapidly turning to soaked shreds in my hand due to my profuse sweating.  It was probably more than 80 degrees by this point.

I managed to push it to 7:14 for one last mile along Midland, Chestnut, N. Fullerton, and the home stretch from Rand to Forest, finishing the race near where it started with a final time of 1:36:09, my slowest half-marathon by more than five minutes (I ran a 1:30:40 at Seaside Heights in 2008).

The year 2020 is long going to be remembered as a dividing line in a lot of ways.  In addition to life in a pre-COVID and post-COVID world, for me personally, it is the year I ceased to be a "fast" runner for my age and bumped down to "average".  My goal is to learn to live with that, without beating myself up.  

Great Swamp Spring Distance Classic 15K – Basking Ridge, NJ - June 7, 2020

The official race date was a week or two prior, but I ran this official course as part of my coronavirus-era series of “races” to keep myself training hard and racing regularly.  Almost as sad as the fact that these terrible times call for such a strategy is the fact that my abilities continue to decline.  If 2019 began the slide from peak performance, 2020 has sealed the deal with an exponential decrease.

This is a stone cold fact that you never read in any running book or article: When it comes to speed and stamina, you lose it much more quickly than you attain it.

I have been running for 15 years.  It took me 11 years to get to peak speed.  I maintained it, with some minor fluctuations, for about two years.  And in the last two years, I have already dropped to almost the levels at which I started.  That is a brutal blow to the psyche; a bruise on the ego.

But let us get to the matter at hand – the 15K in Basking Ridge (where Phish's Page McConnell spent his childhood!).  My last 15K was on the hills of Block Island in 2016, where I inexplicably, unbelievably achieved a PR of 58:22.  Less than four years hence, on a mostly flat course, I could not even come close.

Starting at the official line, spray-painted on the pavement, I headed east on Lord Stirling Road. The first mile was great (6:18) thanks to an early downhill.  Having rested the day before, my legs felt fresh.  I was glad I had studied the course map, because the first turn was on Carlton Road which has no street sign.  Thankfully, though, the turnaround point on that road was spray-painted on the pavement.  

I hit mile two with a more realistic (though slightly disappointing) 6:33.  But I figured that was a good place to be this early on in the race, knowing that for a 15K, it is important to keep some gas in the tank.

Before turning onto Lord Stirling again to continue eastbound and hitting the mile 3 mark (6:30), a fellow on a bicycle (there were a lot of those out there that morning) passed me and said, “That’s quite an aggressive pace you’ve got going.”

I wanted to be able to explain that I was trying my best to run races while there were no actual races happening and that this was one of the courses, all I could muster was, “Thanks.”

Still, if I could have stayed in that 6:30 range, I would have been happy, all things considered.  But by the time I made it to the mile 4 mark (6:44) on Pleasant Plains Road, I could feel it all unraveling.  It was getting warmer – sunny and approaching 70F – and I was getting fatigued already.  I was not even halfway finished.  I had to press on, though.  I had no choice – this was a race, after all.

After another well-marked turnaround I hit mile 5 (6:47) before turning eastward again on Lord Stirling.  With each successively slower mile, I was calculating in my head how much slower my overall pace was, and it was not making me happy.  I simply had to push harder.

For a little while, it worked.  I hit the mile 6 mark with a 6:40 before the final turnaround that would send me back west on Lord Stirling with a straight stretch to the finish line for the final 5K.  I just had to keep pushing.

There was almost nothing left, though.  I gave it whatever I could - using every ounce of energy, trying to extend my legs as far as they would go – and I still came up with only 6:54 in both mile 7 and mile 8.  With a little more than a mile to go, I let it out whatever was left and managed a 6:39 in mile 9.

If that was the end of the race, my average pace would have been 6:39.  Nothing about which to write home, but understandable with the way things have been going.  But in that extra third of a mile at the end, I had to run up that hill that I went down at the beginning of the race.  It took me 2:42 to go that last three-tenths of a mile.  That is a 9:00 pace.  It was excruciating.

With a 1:02:23 final time, it was my slowest 15K with the exception of my first one in 2006 (1:09:38).  Since my second one was in 2009, with a 1:00:46, this means my ability has dropped to that of more than 11 years ago.  That is 11 years of improvement lost in only four years time – and not for lack of training, either.  I have been training exactly as much and as hard, only to see myself deteriorate rapidly.

It is frustrating and, like I said, it is something you never hear about.  Even with no major injury and no change in training, it all just falls apart when you get old enough.  

But does this mean I am giving up?  Not a chance.  July is half-marathon time.