Two Florida runs end the season

I do not know what is wrong with my stomach, but a week after getting ill at the marathon, I ended up getting woefully sick after the first night of my Florida trip for the marathon that did not happen.

So all day Saturday was spent in bed...when I was not in the bathroom with explosive diarrhea and vomit that gradually went from chunks to liquid to dry nothing.

That killed Sunday, too. Imagine if I had to run a race that day!

Monday, I did a light three-mile jog (plus one-mile walk) with my mom at a 10-minute pace.

Tuesday, I did 5.2 miles in the grossly muggy 72-degree Florida morning. I thought I was running much faster than the 8:35 pace I was doing, but then again, I had lost eight pounds from being sick. My muscles were weak. I was dehydrated. I had not had a solid poop in days.

It dawned on me during that run that any hope of doing more distance work in the near future had now been dashed. All the work I had done in the previous 18-weeks, including my snapped-to return to form last week, was now gone. My muscles need to begin to repair from scratch, just as they had after those triumphant, 3:04 and 3:06 races.

Happy that I was at least able to do a couple of short runs in Cape Coral for a change of scenery, I viewed it as the end of another season in my life of running. Now, onward.

Return to form

I rested Sunday after the race, but on Monday I was ready to jump back into the fray, first with an easy three-miler that went very well.

On Tuesday, I did an eight-miler in 57 minutes with almost no effort. 

Wednesday, I did five. And Thursday I was back out on the track doing speed work (12 x 400m at sub-5K pace) as if the marathon had not even happened. 

Because my pain in the marathon was gastric, not muscular, I was back in shape quickly and ready to go. Perhaps another marathon is in the cards to get the taste of the last one out of my mouth (pun intended).

Fortitude for First Descents Marathon

With the cancellation of the Mangrove Marathon in Cape Coral, Fla., I was bit lost with my race plans until I stumbled upon the website for a Dec. 1 marathon in Delaware.

It made perfect sense - only one week before the date I was supposed to run Mangrove and in a state where I have never done a marathon.

Showing up the night before to pick up my packet, it was very much as small an affair as I had expected. The event was at Cape Henlopen State Park. Packet pickup, pasta dinner, and starting line were at a youth campground building. I ate a hearty amount of pasta and pizza, drank a few cups of apple juice and, with Karen there with me, headed to the hotel.

In the morning, I had the usual jitters, but felt great. The course was four times around a 6.6-mile loop. That made me a little nervous. They said the course was clearly marked with arrows and, if you saw cones, you needed to turn.

All was well for the first two or three miles. We ran off the road and onto trails in the park. I was pacing myself nicely, listening to the same Phish show I used for my previous marathon because it was three hours and three minutes - my goal time.

Then I came to a set of cones, but it did not look like there was anywhere to turn. There was woods all around me. The trail seemed to only go straight, except for a short extension to the right that let to a park bench. Could the cones merely have signified that I should not run toward the park bench?

So I continued on the path. You have to understand - at a seven-minute pace, you have only mere seconds to figure things out when you come upon them. I made my best guess and moved on...
...and found myself at the beach.

Cursing everything from the ground to the sky, I doubled back, and noticed this time that the cones led to a very narrow, woodsy path...and that they were being rearranged to better point the way.

My race was shot already. I lost as much as many as two or three minutes. What to do for the next 23 miles?

I sprinted for a while hoping to make up the lost time, but by the sixth mile, I realized that was probably not a good tactic. I needed to save energy for later in the race. Angry and dejected at the end of the first loop, I saw Karen there and, instead of happy acknowledging how happy I was to see her, I simply said, "It's fucked. I blew a turn. I'm two minutes behind."

So I kept it moderate for the second loop, figuring that if I did goal pace (or slightly slower since I did that sprint), I could still get a decent time, maybe 3:06, and lop off the two minutes or so for my own records. I even considered going back the next day and re-running the blown turn to see just how long it took. At the end of the second loop, I was happy again, and when I saw Karen, I told her so.

But the third loop brought the same tragic gastric problems that plagued my previous marathon. I could not believe it - how could this happen again?? All I ate for breakfast was a Clif Bar! What the hell???

It started in Mile 15 with an uneasy feeling in my tummy. I had not even taken more than a few sips of Gatorade but I knew I would not be able to have any more of it. By Mile 18, I knew I was in big trouble. The memory of the agony I went through in April came flooding back. At the end of the third loop, I told Karen things were bad, really bad, with my stomach, but I was going to finish anyway.

I really could have, and perhaps should have, dropped out right there. But I came to Delaware to complete a marathon, after getting the Florida rug pulled out from under me. I would crawl if I had to.

And I almost had to. For the first time ever, I walked part of a race. What a disappointing, almost shameful, feeling. Walking. Some people walk in races and that is fine for them. Not for me. I am a RUNNER. Moreso, I am a RACER.

I thought about how Ryan Hall dropped out of the Olympic Marathon this year and that made me feel a little better mentally. Pro racers are better off dropping out. They can not afford to risk serious injury because it is their job.

Me, I have to risk it. I came a long way. I trained hard for 17 weeks. I needed to hit the finish line no matter what. Otherwise, what was it all for?

The tightness in my stomach was almost unbearable. At times, I almost cried, but mostly, I wanted to vomit. It felt as if someone reached inside my gut and started squeeeeezing my stomach. Not my abs, my actual stomach.

I ran a little. Walked a little. Ran a little more. Walked a little more.

Women passed me. Older dudes passed me. An older woman passed me. Other walker/runners passed me. A woman with a racing stroller passed me.

The last three miles seemed like an eternity. They practically were. The entire last loop took about an hour and a half. Pathetic.

And then, with only about a half mile to go, I puked.

Vomit gushed out of my mouth and nose. I wiped it away with my hands as it dripped from my beard. I felt like I was covered in it. I trotted toward the finish line, feeling a bit lighter, but beaten, and wholly mortified at the thought of Karen seeing me like that.

She was wonderful, cheering me in as if I had run the best race of my life. I had to hold back tears. I thanked her for her kindness and told her to definitely NOT hug me.

I sat for a while in the bunker-like building, waiting for some kind of normalcy in my tummy that never came. We left without cheering in other runners, eating post-race food, or staying for the awards. No joy in Pukeville.

At the hotel, I soaked in an ice bath for a while and then took a nap. An anti-climactic end to 17 weeks of hard work.

The mad scramble for NYE tickets

How many Phish fans does it take to cripple ticketmaster.com?

I do not know the exact number, but try logging on at 10 a.m. the day New Year's Eve tickets go on sale and you will experience it firsthand.

It happens every year - hundreds of thousands of fans trying to get tens of thousands of tickets. It is maddening.

Not that the top brass at Ticketmaster or Live Nation, especially that dipshit prick CEO Irving Azoff, will do anything about it as long as the money keeps rolling in. They do not give flying crap about you or me. They laugh at us while the screen says, "Your wait time is approximately five minutes" for a half-hour straight. And then they laugh at us again when half the tickets go to their buddies in the "ticket broker" business.

"Ticket broker", if you did not know, is a euphemism for "legal scalping". Funny how I can get a ticket for neither Dec. 29, 30, nor 31, from Ticketmaster.com at face value, but other sites have them on sale for hundreds of dollars. Assholes. Fortunately, I got the 28th from Phish's own limited mail-order system.

See, I am old enough to remember the good old days when your chances of getting a ticket depended on how badly you wanted it. Tickets went on sale at 10 a.m. on a Saturday? That means camping out Friday night at the local Ticketmaster outlet. First in line had first dibs, fair and square.

For New Year's Run shows in 1994, 1995, and 1997 (including NYE for the latter two), I was in the front section on the floor at Madison Square Garden with my best buddies and my brother. Why? Because we had the balls to camp outside in front of a god damn strip mall building in New Jersey in late October. That is why.

And hanging out all night with fellow Phish fans was FUN. You met people. Exchanged stories. Maybe agreed to a few tape trades (we listened to Phish shows on cassette in the pre-mp3 days, and copied and mailed them to each other).

In the late 1990s, they started the wristband system to keep people from camping out. Goodness knows they did not want people having fun in the middle of the night in non-residential parts of town where no one would be bothered. To my knowledge, no crimes were ever committed at these sleepovers. No violence. Just a bunch of people waiting for the store to open to get their fair reward.

The wristbands ensured that whether you got there at 9:00 the night before or 9:00 that morning, everyone present at opening time had an equal and random shot at the good stuff. They gave you a wristband with a number, then they called the number that would be first, and went in sequential order.

It is no big surprise then, that I did not get tickets to NYE 1998 (though I did manage to score Dec. 29 and 30). And after that, Ticketmaster truly became Ticketbastard.

NYE 1999 was an organic affair, a festival ticketed through Phish's organization, so tickets were plentiful and easy to obtain. And that was the last NYE I have ever attended.

2002 was damn near impossible as the first show back from hiatus - instead I landed a single ticket to the Virginia show on Jan. 4. And 2003 and 2009 were in Miami, so they were out of reach. But the last three years at MSG have been the same circle of Hell, over and over.

I wonder if I should even care this much. Listening to the recordings, I found last year's shows to be good, but nothing more special than any other Phish show until the third set of NYE.

Not that I am a 3.0 hater. I am totally on board with new Phish. Summer tours this year and last were possibly the best ever. The problema are that damn Garden and the pressure of delivering huge NYE returns when the memories of those previous extravaganzas have still not faded after all these years.

Still, I continue chasing the dragon, hoping that if I get lucky enough to snag that golden ticket, I will see an MSG show that blows my mind the way it did in 1995 and 1997.

That is not likely, but I requested floor-seats only, effectively narrowing my odds of actually attending in favor of increasing my odds of enjoying it more if I do. There is a deep frustration being stuck in the 300s and 400s, struggling to hear the band in the echo cavern near the ceiling of MSG. It is floor-only from now on.

With that in mind, I think I will be happier attending the one show on Dec. 28 with my seat on the floor than attending two or more with crappy seats. That way, if they play an average 3.0 show (which is to say, awesome but with no crazy frills), I will have a perfectly excellent time.

Then I'll go to the Trey Anastasio show in Montclair in January and probably have as good a time!

Westchester Running Festival half-marathon

Halfway through the Hal Higdon marathon training program, which I have faithfully used for each race, it is recommended to run a half-marathon race as a fitness test. Though the marathon for which I was training suddenly did not exist, I decided to continue the training as prescribed and I found the Westchester Running Festival set for Oct. 7.

Taking place in White Plains, N.Y., around 35 miles from home, it was a mid-sized, well-organized event that also included a quarter-marathon.

Making sure to get there early to pick up my packet and get myself ready, I drove in the dark of morning and got to the Westchester County Center at the crack of dawn, giving myself plenty of time to stretch and take a short warm-up jog.

The course seemed boring on paper - 6.5 miles south then back north again on the Bronx River Parkway. Remembering the Suffolk County Half-Marathon last year (also a highway out-and-back), I was prepared for a boring course.

I was pleasantly surprised. That area of the BRP was almost, dare I say, scenic, with plenty of trees, streams and trails along the side of the road and (duh) the Bronx River. And because it is a divided highway, the return trip was like being on a different road altogether.

Not so pleasantly surprising were the hills. In the second mile there was a long, steep downhill. I said to the person next to me, "Oh great, we have to run UP this hill in Mile 12."

The hills continued to roll and I implemented a strategy I had been testing in training - pushing hard up the hills and easing back significantly on the way down.

Two other new strategies for this race involved freeing myself of two major crutches - a stopwatch and a Gatorade bottle. Instead of obsessing over how close to my 6:24 PR pace I was with each mile, I ran solely on feel. On the flat sections, I trusted myself to know when I was lagging and when I was pushing too hard. And rather than carry my own bottle to hydrate at my own intervals, I took advantage of the aid stations for a change.

The result? Despite the expected hell of the hill in Mile 12, I cranked out my second-best half-marathon of the eight I have run in the past five years, pulling off a 1:26:28. Considering that I was not even specifically doing half-marathon training, I would call it a rousing success. Coming off of a PR from 10 months prior, the fact that I ran my two best half-marathons within a year at 37 and 38 years old, I could not ask for more.

Sore from pushing up those hills, I also took advantage of a free massage, even as it started to rain. Plus, there was plenty of post-race food, not to mention lots of good vibes.

It was an excellent race experience on a (mostly) beautiful October morning in New York.

Twenty years later

This past August was the 20-year anniversary of the first time I ever heard Phish. I think it is safe to say my life changed that summer day when, riding in my brother's car to buy a birthday gift for our mother, my ears and mind were opened up to music unlike anything I had ever heard.

My brother's friend Mike always managed to find new music and pass it along to Ben who would ultimately introduce it to me.  Ben was in college and I had just graduated high school. That summer of 1992 was the HORDE tour with Spin Doctors, Blues Traveler and Phish. It was what the college kids were listening to. Ben had already introduced me to the Docs, to whom I took an instant liking. But on this particular day, he said, "Check out this band, Phish," and popped the 'Lawn Boy' album into the cassette player.

"The Squirming Coil" was interesting enough, but it was "Reba" that turned me into a fan, right then and there in Ben's Dodge Colt. We arrived at the store as the jam section started, so the ride home consisted of the entire jam, leading into the whistling, and back to the refrain. I remember exclaiming, "This is the SAME SONG?"

And so, as it goes with Phish fandom, I needed to hear more. And more. That is how my crazy 20-year continuing odyssey began. And though the Spin Doctors' 'Pocket Full of Kryptonite' spent the most time in the cassette player in my dorm, I was still armed with copies of Phish's three studio albums. It would be another year before I experienced the full thrill of the live show, but I was was hooked on Phish forever.

Phish Dick's

"We love Dick's! We love Dick's!"

I have not laughed that hard listening to a Phish show in a long time. When the band and crowd chanted how much they love Dick's, it made for one of those moments, not just because it was funny in itself but because the band was in the throes of some top-notch playing. Everyone knew it. There was electricity in the air that you can hear on the recording, and that chant proved it.

Remember last year's "S" show (also at Dick's), in which all the songs began with the letter "S"? They were at it again the first night of this run - the first letter of each song spelled out "F-U-C-K-Y-O-U-R-F-A-C-E" and then the set culminated with their 1980s goofball song  of that name (which is about a guitar that will figuratively do so, nothing dirty).

How about that "Undermind" (the second "U" in the sequence)? As the song continues to elude me (I have been to 27 shows since they started playing it and STILL have not seen them perform it), it gets better and better. And longer. And funkier.

The "E" was "Emotional Rescue" - a welcome rarity in keeping with the bust-outs of Leg One of the tour. First time since Vegas 2000!

The second show had the first "Run Like an Antelope" opener since 1990 and was a knockout. Every song, short and long, was a killer. When "Tweezer" is only one highlight, you know it is a damn good show. And "Mike's Song > No Quarter > Weekapaug Groove" to close Set Two? Crazy awesome!

And night three was solid in every way. The huge "Sand" that opened the second set shone brightly at that show. "Sand" was definitely a contender for MVP jammer of the summer.

But the clear winner was Dick's "Light", which will probably go down in Phishtory and a must-listen for every fan - 20-plus minutes of glorious jamming. It was Phish at its best. Even as an old fan, I will put that up against any jam from the 1990s. "Light" has definitely been the Number One jam vehicle this summer and it all came to a peak at Dick's.

What a way to end the tour, but it almost feels as if they saved it all up for those shows, only teasing and hinting at the greatness to come in each show leading up to it. That is nice as a story arc, but I do feel for the Midwestern and southern folks who maybe went to the one show in their areas, catching well-performed but unexceptional concerts.

My advice to the casual fan and the curious listener - skip the entire second leg up to Dick's, but get all three tour-ending shows.

Phish Summer Tour Leg 2 - Not Much New on the Road to Dick's

Though I did not attend any of the shows of the second leg of summer tour (which took the band through the south, midwest and west coast), I did listen to every single show.

Many other fans have offered their dissertations on the individual shows and song performances, but I want to offer my summation of the whole thing in one shot, expanding on an observation I made at the beginning of the first leg, back in June.

It seems like so long ago that I was at Bader Field in Atlantic City celebrating the beginning of Phish's 2012 summer tour. Through the excitement of dissecting those three shows in this blog, I mentioned that Phish has been relying on older material and noted that they may be seen as the nostalgia act that Trey Anastasio feared in 2004 (leading to his termination of the band). I also said that this was not a bad thing as long as their playing continues to evolve as it has.

Phish has debuted only a handful of new original songs since their last album 'Joy' was released in September of 2009.  Of those, some made one appearance and disappeared (does anyone else remember "Dr. Gabel"? I loved that song!) or shown up on solo albums (Trey's "Pigtail" which, admittedly, is much, much better with his band).  Some seemed like they had some legs ("Halfway to the Moon", "My Problem Right There" and the New Year's Eve show-stopping "Steam"), played through 2010 and 2011. But only one ("Show of Life") gets continued play.

In addition, 2009 and 2010 were teeming with new covers, some one-offs ("In the Aeroplane Over the Sea" and "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover"), and one that has become a jamtastic standard ("Golden Age").

This year has so far not only brought no new original songs, but no new covers either. Do not get me wrong, the clear motif of the first half of summer was to bust out covers they have not played in years, even decades ("Skin It Back", "Happiness Is a Warm Gun", "La Grange", "Head Held High"), and I absolutely loved it. And Fish's "tucking" theme was a great running gag. Those shows were all the more special as a result.

Still, I have hungered for some new music so I was relying on the jams to bring it. Phish has a way of making the old new again by bringing new melodies, sounds, and vibes to the jams. The first half of the tour showed promise with some songs stretching out in new ways.  A 2012 sound began to take shape in the first half, but my impression of the second leg was that it was simply more of the same.

Or even less of it, because the bust-outs stopped coming and the "tucking" was given a bit of a rest.  Sure, there was the awesomeness of every "Crosseyed and Painless", "Rock and Roll" and "Light" - each reaching and pushing and pulling in glorious jamming directions.  Aside from those, though, not much stood out.

You may say I am being too picky, that this diminishes the consistently high-quality of playing by the band; or that I am one of those old fans from the 1990s that wants a return to the 20-minute monster jams in five-song sets  with insane segues. (OK, I do miss those, but that is not the point).

But I see this as a testament to how amazing they have been. Up until now, I had been holding the 3.0 era to much lower standards, that have been raised with each subsequent tour.  In 2009, I wanted Phish to just sound like Phish again.  In 2010, I wanted to get through a show without hearing flubs. In 2011, I wanted to start hearing more songs and more consistent playing.

They have done all this so well, meeting and exceeding every expectation. Phish sounds better than ever; flubs are as rare as they were in the 1990s; "Steam" became the NYE highlight and "Show of Life" became an encore staple; and the cover song bust-outs have been unbelievable.

But what happens now? Until the three-night end-of-tour stand at Dick's Sporting Goods Arena, not much did. But oh, how they they brought their A-game to Commerce City, Colorado...

Marathon plans go south

On Sept. 30, I received an email from the director of the small Mangrove Marathon in Cape Coral, Fla., informing its registrants that, due to a family illness, the race was cancelled.

And that was it.

Imagine my surprise - I have never heard of a marathon being cancelled!

Imagine my shock - But...what about all this training I have been doing?

Imagine my anger - I spent more than a thousand non-refundable dollars on plane tickets and a hotel room for my mom and me.  That money is now gone, down the drain.

Imagine my confusion - What the hell do I do now?

So I sent an email back to the director stating exactly those things, but after a day or two, I had a thought.

I am already resigned to going to Florida, I am already training to run a marathon, and I can not really change my plans - so I asked the director if I can take over.

And why not? It is not like I would be starting from scratch. Certain things should already be in place - the course is certified and the people are registered. Maybe I can simply pick up where she left off?

Unfortunately, things were in greater turmoil than I had suspected. Apparently, the director made the decision to give up the race long before she sent the email because she told me that a race-staging company had already been on board to take over, but they pulled out at the end of September.

Somehow, I was still undeterred. I called other race companies in Florida,  trying to find someone willing to take on a race that now seemed only a small fraction of the way to completion. I would need timers, awards, a start/finish line, clocks, volunteers to work Gatorade and water stations, and the all-important post-race food. And I would need it all in nine weeks (or less, because with every call I made, the clock was ticking).

It proved to be impossible. No company could do it and I could not do it by myself. It was over.

So I am left with a four-day trip with my mom to Cape Coral, Florida, to visit my grandfather, aunt and cousin, and that is still something to which I can look forward.

Oh, and before the website for the marathon was removed, I saved a copy of the marathon course route, so I am thinking of running it anyway. Why not? It would still make for a great long run!

Marathon plans to go south

After the first leg of summer Phish tour ended, it was time to start making marathon plans again.

I was not traveling west and south for the second leg of the tour, so August was strictly about starting my training for a December marathon. I had already picked it out - the Mangrove Marathon in Cape Coral, Fla.

Cape Coral is a city on Florida's Gulf coast, just south of Fort Myers. My grandfather moved there more than thirty years ago when it was still small and up-and-coming. Today, it is a rather large and booming city.

The plan was to run the marathon and have a nice visit with Grandpa, as well as my aunt who also lives in town. Gramps turns 89 this year and this would be the first time for him to see me run a race. Not only that, but judging by last year's times, I could possibly be a contender for Top Three. That would make him proud of his grandson, no?

My mom and I bought our plane tickets and reserved our hotel room, and I registered for the race. In the meantime, I spent August and September training hard. That 3:04 PR of mine is now three years old and I am ready to break it. I did a 17-miler in 2:02 and a 2:32 20-miler, so my long game is intact; and I have been doing 2:55 800-meter intervals, so my short sprint game is still on point, too. I was keeping Gramps posted about my progress and he was excited about me coming down there for the event.

A lot of things can go wrong in the weeks leading up to a marathon. In 2010, I pulled a hamstring three weeks before the Boston Marathon. In 2008 and 2009, I got very ill, with a high fever and flu-like symptoms the week before the New Jersey and Eisenhower (in Kansas) marathons.

In all those cases, though, I still managed to get to the race and do my best, and even make something great out of it (like my short movie "One Man's Boston" and the PRs in New Jersey and Kansas).

But on Sept. 30, while everything was going along perfectly, the one thing I could have never fathomed would happen, happened.

Back to back at SPAC, July 8

Karen stayed behind at the hotel for the Sunday show, the last of that leg of Phish's summer tour before a month-long break.

Left to my own devices, I find myself searching for that special spot on the lawn that offers good sound and room to dance. And if I can get a good view of the stage, well, that is a plus. One thing I learned at the Arts Center in New Jersey is to check the front corners. There is a sweet spot at that venue that, for some reason, is often not crowded, yet offers excellent sound and a decent stage view.

The same held true at SPAC - I settled in to a front spot on Page-side (Rage side!) that had plenty of boogie room. And not only did I have a mostly unobstructed view of the stage, but I was directly under a screen, too, so I could look up and see the close-ups at any time.

I am a bit weary of "AC/DC Bag" as an opener, but I will admit it gets the job done. As for "My Soul" I liked it back in 1997 when everyone seemed to hate it, but now I can really do without it.

The show kicked into gear for me with "Camel Walk" which is always welcome. It took me more than 70 shows to finally get one; and even though I have seen a few since then, it still feels special.

Sometime during "Sample in a Jar" or "Wilson" someone I had met in Atlantic City saw me and came over to say hi. I was so happy to see her and catch up, but am a little sorry I only paid half of my attention to what was clearly a kick-ass "Party Time". I definitely need to hear that one again.

With my attention back on the show, I reveled in the bass bombs of "Gumbo" and the classic Phishiness of "Foam", as well as the bluegrass of the once-rare "Nellie Kane" and the quietude of "Driver", which I have always liked despite fan grumblings.

The kick-ass close of the set was a great "Split Open and Melt" followed by yet another bust-out - the first time they played ZZ Top's "La Grange" in almost 13 years!

Oh, how I loved the second set. It had almost everything I want in a Phish set.

Rock? How about a blast-off "Axilla" opener, a "Woo"-inducing "Twist", a "Cavern", and a raucous climax to "My Friend, My Friend"

Jam? Check out the way they stretched out in "Kill Devil Falls" and the always reliable "Light". How about "Piper", "Free" and "Harry Hood" while we are at it?

Mood? See the aforementioned "Light" jam, but also "Swept Away" and the 3.0-era improved "Steep"?

Goofiness? Look no further than "Kung"!

And to top it off - a set-closing "David Bowie" which, like "Light", has been consistently fantastic this year.

As I did the day before, I started moving toward the exit before the encore, but was stopped dead in my tracks when they played "You Enjoy Myself" to end the night. I had shivers because the last time I saw Phish do "YEM" as an encore was the excellently bittersweet final show before their 2000-2002 hiatus, in northern California.

This version stood up to it. When Mike brought the funk while Trey danced around, it was one of those "oh yeah" moments.

On the way out, I gave a gal a lift into town. I had not picked up a Phish hitch hiker since January 4, 2003, coming home from the Hampton show in Virginia. This gal was walking out of the lot, carrying a guitar in the silence of the night. So, while I sat in the traffic, I rolled down the window and asked her to play while we all waited to get out. She would not, but she asked for a lift, so I obliged.

After dropping her off in downtown Saratoga, I headed back to the hotel in Glens Falls to spend another night with Karen and get some sleep. The next morning, I did a three mile run before we headed out on a road-trip adventure the next day to northern Vermont to visit the Vermont Teddy Bear and Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream factories.

My seven-show summer Phish tour of the New Jersey and New York was over and it was another amazing experience. People ask how I can still enjoy it so much after 85 shows, but that is the beauty of Phish - they keep bringing it, so I keep going.

Upstate NY running

New Jersey has no shortage of hills. Every run I do includes some, and every long run involves big ones (small mountains, really).

But in upstate New York, the mountains are large and there is nary a bit of flat land, even along the eastern border by the Hudson River.

The morning after a raging night of Phish, I plotted out a 13-mile run from Glens Falls, where I was staying with Karen, through the surrounding areas. And this route was chock full of quad-busting uphill climbs and calf-killing downhills.

Throughout these rolling hills, though, I got to see a lovely bit of New York country. I passed a Six Flags amusement park, a centuries-old cemetery, and some lovely neighborhoods.

Of course, it was tough to enjoy all that because not only were the hills difficult, but the heat was punishing. It was the early afternoon on a hot July day and there was no escaping the sun, save for the shade of a few tree-lined roads. I would have loved to have gotten out earlier, but that is the life of a runner on Phish tour - you stay up late and you run after noon.

After the run, it was a shower, then Denny's for dinner, then back to SPAC for the last show of that leg of Phish tour.

The magic of Phish at SPAC, July 7

There is something special about the Saratga Performing Arts Center.

Maybe it is the woodsy setting in upstate New York. Perhaps it is because it is Trey's hometown venue (he lives pretty close to there, last I checked). Or maybe it is just the fun-to-say acronym. But every time Phish plays there they seem to deliver a memorable performance.

My first experience at SPAC was the first of Phish's two shows on the 2004 "final" tour (I remember it being referred to as "Back to Back at SPAC" - see how catchy the name is?). I recall dancing to some incredible jams, especially in newer songs like "46 Days", and kissing my girlfriend during a beautiful "Wading in the Velvet Sea" encore, which was her favorite Phish song.

Though we did not attend the second show, I remember listening later on and enjoying the hot jams as well as Page's dad singing "Bill Bailey".

In the 3.0 era, I had not yet been back to SPAC. And even though I have listened to every single show of the past three years, certain things stick out about the SPAC shows - like Tony Markellis' guest appearance on bass, allowing Mike Gordon to jam on guitar along with Trey on "Sand", and the totally dubby breakdown of "Makisupa Policeman" with Trey repeating "SPAC" (it is all about the name!!)

The magic of SPAC seemed to be there at the first show of this year's run, which I did not attend but listened to the following week, and it definitely continued on night two.

Driving with Karen from New Jersey, we made great time getting up to the area. We checked into our hotel in Glens Falls (site of the first Halloween musical costume show!) and headed down to Saratoga. All the great memories came flooding back as we made our way into the venue.

This was my 84th show, so I promised Karen that I would not force her to be squashed in the front of the lawn and that we could relax wherever she wanted. She is not a Phish fan but she came along for fun of it. She had gone with me to two of the MSG '09 shows, but I wanted her to experience the outdoor Phish experience.

We were in the middle of the lawn when Phish opened with "Grind", the first time I had ever see them do it barbershop-style (I was witness to the acoustic Trey/Tom version on 12/30/98). But Karen decided to hang back in the "family zone" as the set went on. From there, she played with some of the small children as I enjoyed the first few songs.

A few beers and some big jams later, we were in the middle of the lawn again, dancing up a storm. Even Karen could not help but shake her groove thing during "Bathtub Gin" (to my delight).

Unfortunately, something she either inhaled or ingested did not sit right with her and during set break she started feeling ill. So I had a whole different experience for set two - sitting at the back of the lawn. And you know what? It was kind of cool. As "Down with Disease" raged into "Blister in the Sun" we just enjoyed the vibe and Karen was happy to hear something familiar.

Normally, the triple dose of funk of "Boogie On Reggae Woman", "Golden Age" and "2001" would have me dancing my ass off. But instead, I listened intently to the jams as they wound around and ebbed and flowed. And since you can not see the stage from the lawn, I watched as the colors emanated from the pavilion.

The "Blister in the Sun" theme continued throughout the set and we laughed as we caught each reference Trey made in "Scent of a Mule", "Mike's Song" and "Weekapaug Groove". And during "Contact" we talked about my niece, Julianna, to whom I sang the song incessantly when she was a baby (at two years old, she was even able to sing it!).

And by the end of the set, Karen was feeling great again. So as we rocked out to the "Sabotage" encore, we headed toward the exit.

Sometimes it is good for seasoned vets to go to Phish shows with newbies because it forces us to experience the show in different ways and to see it through their eyes (and hear it through their ears). And because the show can be downloaded the next day, we can always go back later to scrutinize each note, jam, segue and transition.

At the show, you have got to live in the now, whatever that "now" brings. At SPAC, the magic is there and you feel it, no matter what the circumstances.

Phish at Jones Beach, Wantagh, NY, night two

This show was big on sheer amount of songs, had more breakouts of songs not played in years and still managed to have four 10+ minute jams. If this is the formula of Phish 2012, it is still working like a charm.

Like the previous night, however, the bustouts kept a-coming. The combos of "Alumni Blues"/"Letter to Jimmy Page" and "The Man Who Stepped into Yesterday"/"Avenu Malkanu" were personal rarities (though the former combo had not been played since 2009). Despite the fact that this was my 83rd show, I'd only ever seen them play one of those four songs - "Letter", once, at this very venue, my second show, 7/15/94.

The big bustout for the band and all the audience was the first appearance of the Velvet Underground's "Head Held High" since Phish covered their entire 'Loaded' album on Halloween 1998. Yes, another Halloween breakout!  What's in store at the next show - "Born Under Punches"?

But that was not all - someone had a sign for "Bittersweet Motel" the previous night. Trey Anastasio acknowledged it but they waited until this show to play it for the first time in three years. And sandwiched between Argent's "Hold Your Head Up" as intro and outro for Jon Fishman's vocal and vacuum spotlight came another rarity - the first time for Fish's vocal stylings on the Prince ballad "Purple Rain" since 1999. I had not seen them play it since MSG 1994.

Plus, they still found time to do a lengthy, kick-ass "David Bowie"! Add to that a rocking "Kill Devil Falls", the fun ditty "Alaska" (a personal favorite), a kicking "Gumbo" with fat bass bombs from Mike Gordon, and the requisite barbershop rendition of "The Star Spangled Banner" for the Fourth of July, and you have got to consider this possibly the best first set of all time.

Still firing on all cylinders, but finding it tough to beat the first half, they played it more straight in set two, kicking out the funk in Stevie Wonder's "Boogie On Reggae Woman" to open the set and then launching into the "T"-trifecta of "Tweezer", "Twist" and "Taste". They did an "S" show last year. It's time for a "T" show.

The cover songs kept coming with a rousing rendition of Dylan's "Quinn the Eskimo", and two of the more standard Halloween album songs - the Velvets' "Rock & Roll" and the Stones' "Shine a Light". I can't get enough of the latter.

Thankfully, "The Horse" was not bungled, as in A.C., and "Silent in the Morning" was its usual, pretty self, but the 2010 ballad "Show of Life", still one of my favorite 3.0-era songs, was excellent, despite the groans from the crowd.

The gorgeous "Harry Hood" jam, late in the set would have been the highlight if not for the absolutely glorious "Slave to the Traffic Light" that closed the set. The memories of the bad "Slaves" I have seen get further away every time I see Phish play it in the new era.

That is not to say I don't have gripes about the set. I used to love "Taste", but for some reason, the jam never seems to climax the right way for my tastes anymore. The ending doesn't come together like it used to. Am I the only one that feels this way? And the days when every "Julius" was the best "Julius" ever are long gone. This one seemed dead on arrival at first, but did pick up enough steam to be enjoyable.

I love "Sleeping Monkey" as an encore, and paired with an incredibly rocking "Tweezer Rerprise" that had Trey running and jumping in his little area of the stage, it was another night when everyone went home happy.  Another two shows by the shore (five beach shows this summer!) in the books.

Phish at Jones Beach, Wantagh, NY, night one

It is my guess that this show will be forever remembered as the show that busted out "Skin It Back" (first time played in almost 24 years) and "Happiness Is a Warm Gun" (first time since Phish covered the entire Beatles White Album on Halloween 1994). But that stuff happened early on and there was an entire memorable show in the hours following.

In many ways, it was a perfect example of Phish 2012, striking the balance between extended jams, varied song selection, and economical playing. In addition to the rarities he first set contained the standard classics also played in Atlantic City - "Possum",  "Mike's Song -> I Am Hydrogen -> Weekapaug Groove", "Golgi Apparatus" and "Axilla I", but solid playing and short, to-the-point jams made it fun for vets and newbies alike.

"Ya Mar" was fun, though I do miss the extended ending from years ago, when drummer Jon Fishman would do some extra fills and bassist Mike Gordon would scat sing through a few bars.

There was one flub, in "Tube", and it was made by Fish, who tried to pull the ripcord on the jam way too early, causing a cacophony of his push to the swing beat while Trey resisted and kept pulling on the funk rhythm.

Rarities aside, the highlight of the set was the trifecta of "Joy", an awesome rendition and tour debut of ZZ Top's "Jesus Just Left Chicago" and the happy "Backwards Down the Number Line". The former was beautiful, despite disinterest by much of the crowd; and the latter definitely redeemed the sloppy mess it created on Atlantic City.

There were nine songs in the second set and four of them stretched longer than 10 minutes. Not exactly the hardcore-phan-favorite four-song sets like the days of yore, but enough to keep us satisfied - what with the funk of "Sand", its sick segue into "Golden Age", and the organ solo that had many folks swearing "No Quarter" would follow. (It didn't.) A perfectly executed "Fluffhead" and a frenzied set-closing climax of "Run Like an Antelope" (complete with call-and-response between band and audience of "Mike-O!" Gordo!") satiated the need for extended songs. 

Second set opener "Chalk Dust Torture", still the song I have seen them play the most (at about a third of my 82 shows), "Wolfman's Brother" and "Bug" were short and succinct, but packed a lot of punch in their brevity, a reminder that the running time is not enough to judge the quality of a Phish performance.

And in the "that came from left field" department of oddly placed songs, "The Wedge", a personal favorite of mine from 1993's 'Rift' album, seemed to blow in from nowhere and...well...wedge itself between the monsters of "Fluff" and "Antelope".

A rocking but standard "Character Zero" sent everyone home feeling good about the show, almost forgetting about the historic bust-outs at the beginning. Almost.

Include Me! 5K, Montville, NJ

Montville, New Jersey. I guess that's "Mont" as in "Mount" as in "Mountain" as in "hills". And the hills were definitely my enemy at this race.

Not that the presence of hills was any surprise. I lived in neighboring Parsippany for 10 years and ran through Montville many times. The surprise was my inability to handle them.

The start of the race, off Horseneck Road near the library, had a short downhill before an incline that was steep enough to throw a wrench into anyone's race, too early on, in the first mile. I bounded up, knowing that my fresh legs could handle it and that I could hang back on the way down. 

But I also knew I was trying to hit a time mark and pacing was everything. I kept my strides long on the downhill, but tried to reduce my effort. But by the time I reached the second hill, I could feel things were awry. 

And then came the turnaround. Oh yes, I had forgotten this was an out-and-back course. This meant I had to run the same hills in reverse. By the time I got to the original hill, I was out of gas and the muscles in my leg started getting that painful fatigued feeling again. I was pushing only on persistence, knowing I had trained so damn hard for this. I had to fight through the exhaustion and pain on principle, if nothing else.

But then, I wondered if it was in my head. Maybe I could trust my training. Maybe I was doing the sub-6 pace I had trained for without knowing it. After all, I trained so hard, I had taught my body to run fast without letting my brain get in the way.

No such luck. Coming down the hill, I could see the clock at the finish line and it was already in the 18s. The best I could do to save it from being a bad race and retain my dignity was to get in under nineteen. So I dug deep and finished with an 18:57. Not worth the intense training though which I put myself, but not bad. 

As for the event itself, it was well organized and well run. Check-in was easy, and they were nice enough to split the age groups into five-year increments, so I ended up winning my age group. Had they done it in 10 year groups, I would not have gotten a medal. 

Still, this race has forced me to evaluate what I want to do with the next few weeks before I start marathon training again. Is it worth it to push myself like this for another short race before the long runs become the focus again? Will I survive? We shall see.

It's happening tomorrow...

...and I'm nervous! (?)

In the two weeks since the Phish shows, I have continued on the path of the Hal Higdon Advanced program.  My legs ached.  When my left leg did not feel like lead, my right leg was in agony.  I took my Thursday rest day and on Friday felt only a little better.

But I was sure of one thing - this was no injury.  Not a pull or a tear or anything like that.  It was simple overuse.  I was pushing hard and I was feeling the effects.

Funny thing, though - I still managed to do my three days of speed work each week.  Even through the pain, I was knocking out 400 meter intervals at 1:26, miles at sub-6-minute pace, and tempo runs of up to six miles.

And so, with a blessed and well-deserved TWO rest days before I finally get to do my first short race of the year, I can feel the sweet relief of repair in my legs.  Two days ago, I could barely walk.  Today, I am filled with stored up energy - some of it is potential energy just waiting to be kicked into kinetic energy in 13 hours.

But some of it is nervous energy.  After dozens of races, I still get nervous.  Why?  

Well, for this one, it is because I have been training extra hard.  I want all of this pain to have been worth it.  All I need to do finish in less than 18 minutes of 30 seconds tomorrow, a mere 18 and a half minutes of pain, for it to be all worthwhile. 

See you tomorrow at the Include Me 5K in Montville, N.J.

Short run and mile repeats in Atlantic County

It was a late night after the Phish show on June 16. I spent the wee hours roaming the Boardwalk, taking photos and enjoying a cool night at the shore, so Sunday morning, I ate breakfast at the hotel and promptly went back to sleep. In the early afternoon, I did a very slow five-mile run as my leg was in great pain, thanks to the previous day's long run plus dancing like crazy at the Phish show (not to mention leaping with joy at the climax of "Fluffhead") and walking around all night.

Monday, I had to check out of the hotel by noon, so I could not be so leisurely. Instead, I woke up after about five hours of sleep and tried to do speed work along the highway (Route 30). Using the posted mile markers, I did three fast (5K pace) mile repeats. Because the markers were not at every mile or half mile, I did one-and-a-half miles for one of the intervals.

Either I was more wiped out than I had thought or too full from another big breakfast (or both) because while I blasted out the first one at 5:47, I rapidly declined. The 1.5-mile interval was 9:21 (a 6:14 pace) and the last mile was 6:26. Averaged out, that would make a 19:04 5K. Not bad, but that was done with a half-mile jog between each interval. I know that I am definitely capable of running faster but my leg still felt like lead.

More than two months since the marathon and less than two weeks until my hopeful first 5K of the year, I am still unsure of whether I will be able to perform.

Phish at Bader Field, night three - "Now I'm on my way"

When the final chorus of "The Mighty Quinn" was joyously sung by band and crowd last night, it marked the end of the Phish's Atlantic City semi-festival weekend and, as if there were any doubters left, practically proclaimed loud and clear that Phish 2012 was going to blow minds all summer long. Unlike the full-on fests of the past (excepting Camp Oswego), this did not mark the end of a tour or even a leg of it. It instead capped a triumphant beginning, following two arena shows and a Bonnaroo performance. Summer tour is underway, and it is so, so good.

The show started in traditional 3.0 Father's Day fashion, with all the band members' kids onstage in a tub during "Brother", before kicking into the dog-themed duo of "Runaway Jim" and "Dogs Stole Things". It was another set that leaned heavily on the oldies with the near-perfect rendition of the decade-old epic "Walls of the Cave" being the newest among a set of songs that otherwise dated between the 1980s and 1997.

If one of Trey's fears when he broke up the band in 2004 was that they would become a nostalgia act, one listen to a set like this proves that playing old songs does not necessarily equate to nostalgia. When songs like "NICU" and  "Foam" are played this well, they maintain their freshness. And there was nothing stale to be found in the dirty funk of "Boogie On Reggae Woman" or the far out jamming in "Timber". The audience chanted along "Wilson" and sang out the coda to "Character Zero" so enthusiastically, I think the latter is more popular now than it was in 1996.

But it was "Fluffhead" that destroyed the crowd. The song that died with the hiatus of 2000-02 and was reborn like a phoenix from the ashes of the 2004-2009 breakup, was played with the kind of precision that negated the 33-year-old Trey's claim in the movie 'Bittersweet Motel' that he didn't care if he missed some changes in a song and that the energy was more important. The wiser, well-rehearsed 47-year-old professional Trey knows that he can have both. So when the triumphant climax comes, it is that much more powerful. It's why you can't get an audience to leap with exuberance by merely playing those four big chords at the end. It is the intricately winding journey to get there that makes the release what it is.

After starting magnificently with the frequent second set opener "Drowned", Phish went back to recent fun of placement switching. No longer can you expect "2001" to come an hour into the set, "Reba" to be a first set monster jam, "Chalk Dust Torture" to be a set opener or "Bug" to be a second set closer. Instead they were mixed around this set like an iPod on shuffle and (unlike the previous night's "Backwards Down the Number Line" misplacement) none the worse for it. 

The biggest surprises were "Silent in the Morning" without its usual predecessor "The Horse" (which was aborted Saturday night) and a set-closing "Down with Disease" which, lyrically, makes a hell of a lot more sense there ("This has all been wonderful, but now I'm on my way") than in its typical set-opening slot. And they made sure to leave us with an incredible jam on that song that actually came around to the ending. Most of the great "Disease" jams end up leaving the song unfinished.

That 2011 feeling of getting in and getting out, leaving little space for stretching out, carried over in last night's 3:56 "Prince Caspian" and 5:15 "Roses Are Free", but those were well-balanced by the expansive jams elsewhere.

We in the crowd tried to guess what the encore would be - someone near me said "Bold as Love", I called "Shine a Light" - but I am sure that none of the thousands in attendance could have predicted "Gotta Jibboo", a song that had not been played as an encore since its 2000 heyday when, interestingly enough, it usually was played as a set opener. It felt odd, but the groove was good and we danced some more, knowing it could not end there - that a bigger, more powerful song would come.

"Quinn" did the job excellently and we all left happy. Everywhere around me in the long walk out of the venue, people were talking about their plans for the rest of the tour. It felt good to finish such an epic weekend knowing there is more to come.

So yes, this has all been wonderful but now I'm on my way...to Jones Beach and the SPAC. See you there!

Long run in Atlantic City

In addition to the experience of the Phish shows at Bader Field, this mini-vacation also afforded me the opportunity of a long run in a new locale, which I always welcome. Some people probably can not imagine wanting to work out while on vacation, but I love running, and experiencing it in places other than the usual routes keeps it fun.

Unfortunately,there was nothing fun about the pain in my leg last week, but I was determined to get out there and do my 13 miles on Saturday. Like so many times before, I promised myself I would keep it slow, steady, and effortless. 

This time it was easy to keep that promise because there was no reason to rush. I had nothing to do that day except go to the Phish show. 

The route I mapped from my hotel - the Comfort Inn in Absecon, a mile from the Atlantic City limit - took me on Route 30 eastbound into the city's outlying residential area. It is a heavily trafficked highway and did not always have a proper shoulder, but it was only for the first few miles. 

Once in the more peaceful residential area, I took Ohio Avenue straight into the Tanger Outlets shopping section known as The Walk. With the downtown casinos and Boardwalk to my left, I was dodging pedestrians across Arctic Avenue, but was keeping the pace easy so I was in no danger of plowing anyone down. I headed straight into the Phish foot traffic as I hooked around Bader Field as the phans were already making their way in. That marked the halfway point as I proceeded past the field onto another highway into the West Atlantic City section of Egg Harbor. 

Eventually, there was a sidewalk as more businesses appeared around me and I entered Pleasantville with a turn onto Main Street. Only three more miles to go, I made a right onto Delilah Avenue which took me back to Route 30 and the home stretch to the hotel.

The fact that the landscape is entirely flat in that area was a big help to my ailing leg. I exerted little effort beyond simple forward motion and finished the  13.6 mile course in approximately one hour and 42 minutes, a 7:30 pace. It was a beautiful day - sun shining, low 70s, and I felt good, despite the twinge that continued in my leg. It was no better, but no worse, either.

And it was time to go to the show and dance.

Phish at Bader Field, night two - a second helping of greatness

I do not know if it is true for anyone else, but every time I get a show-starting "Mike's Song" (Coventry excepted), it is a harbinger for a hell of a good show like at 8/10/2004, 12/27/2010, 5/29/2011.  This one followed the rule, not the exception.

I should probably not be surprised that last night's show was so good. Have I turned into such a jaded vet after 78 shows since 1993 that I can not bring myself to expect two great shows in a row? I saw some of Phish's years of mind-blowing consistency - the days in the '90s when the thought of seeing a bad show never entered my mind - and I was there for the years when Trey struggled not to flub in song after song, though I sat out most of 2009 because I found it too painful.

But this is a new Phish - focused and rehearsed. And while the playing is not as fiery and barnstorming as in 1994 and the jams are not as out-there and spacey as 2003, there seems a renewed passion and...ahem...joy in the playing. Or maybe it is in me.

Last night, the new vibe pervaded the old tunes, starting with classic trio of "Mike's", "I Am Hydrogen" and "Weekapaug Groove" to set the tone. I was still in the lot and decided to stay there a while because the people were so great and the sound was fine, entering the venue and roaming the outskirts for the second half of the set.

If you took out "Ocelot" and looked at the setlist for set one, you could easily mistake it for a show from 1994 as they cranked out oldies like "Gumbo", "Halley's Comet", "Punch You in the Eye", and the excellent set-closer "Suzy Greenberg" with full precision. But while 1994 was prime Phish, full of excitement and vigor, songs like "My Friend My Friend" and "Wolfman's Brother" never sounded so good as they have in the 3.0 era, and especially last night. The laser-pointed focus of the way Trey built the former to its climax was perfect for those of us who grew up with the band from it's heyday. The wild abandon of the old days was great for the old days, but we are all a little more mature now and like our freakouts controlled and our climaxes huge. Just listen to last night's peak in "Possum" and you will see what I mean.

OK, so the flub monster did attack Trey once in the show - he began playing "The Horse" but screwed it up. But instead of soldiering on in awfulness as he may have in the 2.0 era or in 2009, he stopped, made a joke and turned it into a funny and special moment - an onstage conversation that ultimately led to everyone's favorite Page crooner, "Lawn Boy".

As for the "Ocelot", I can only say that never in the three years of its existence would I have expected it to be a set highlight, but Phish still manages to surprise me.

As soon as the set ended, I walked forward while most folks walked back to head to the port-a-johns. I managed to get right up to the rail, albeit far off to the side, under the speaker cabinets. Except for when he stood to play his clavinet during the killer funk of "Sand", I could barely see Page, but I could see everyone else, especially Fish, perfectly. And the sound was right in my face, so it was perfect. Set Two's "Crosseyed and Painless" opener was once again a gauntlet thrown down, hearkening to last year's Super Ball IX. Of course, EVERY "Crosseyed" last year was amazing, and this one was no different as we danced and sang the "Still waiting" chorus. 

And the jam! Look, if you were at Big Cypress, you know that the late night "Crosseyed" will never be topped, but this jam was still stellar as it rocked in various directions for several minutes before landing on "Slave to the Traffic Light".

I have a complicated relationship with "Slave". I have felt its four-chord transcendence in its finest moments (the Great Went and Big Cypress) and have been let down and deflated by its worst (the directionless 12/30/1998 and the god-awful mess of 6/25/2000). But last night's was top-notch - maybe it works best at outdoor festivals - despite its odd placement.

The real transcendence came through "Light", a song I will forever regard as the jam that brought me back home to Phish. 

I wanted no part of the reunion in 2009. Trey said five years earlier that they were done and I accepted it and moved on, clinging to the good memories  of a great decade. I turned 30 shortly after and it felt right to leave Phish with my 20s. In the late summer of 2009, a friend gave me some discs of that summer's shows and, though there were good moments, I winced regularly at the ever-present screw-ups. There were a shadow of the band I once knew. Then 'Joy' was released and they proved that they could still make studio albums that you want to keep in the car and put on repeat. So when they came to Madison Square Garden in December, I figured I would go once for old time's sake. 

That show was superb through and through, but "Light" transfixed me. This was the new Phish that I wanted to keep hearing and so I found myself going back again. And again. "Light" has become the theme to my renewed love of Phish and last night's jam took it to the edges of face-melting, mind-blowing wonderment, even calling back the "Still waiting" chorus of "Crosseyed".

As with last night's gentle "Billy Breathes" comedown, the only place to go after that monster jam was to the quietude of "Theme from the Bottom" which built nicely into the climax to start the rocking again with "Golgi Apparatus".

The only placement mishap came with putting a less-than-stellar "Backwards Down the Number Line" three quarters of the way into the set. After all the energy  swirling through the previous hour, it landed with a thud and I think the band knew it. Trey couldn't get out of the solo fast enough and Page did not even bother with the backing vocals most of the time. Nice to see Trey pull the ripcord with good reason!

The best thing to do then was fall back on a can't-miss set-ending "Run like an Antelope". The jam was reliably awesome and Chris Kuroda's lights were dazzling (especially with those new rings of LEDs). Even the progression into the final chorus that often falls into disarray was tight and punchy leading to glow sticks being flung from every angle as the crowd went wild.

Speaking of reliable, the Zeppelin classic "Good Times Bad Times" as the encore gave us seven more minutes to rock hard as Trey let it all out while Fish hit the skins with brutal authority, propelling another excellent show to its close.

Two for two in 2012. Is the old rule that became the exception now the rule again?

Phish at Bader Field, night one

Maybe it is a word that the kids today throw around a lot, but I could not stop hearing the word "Epic" among the crowd after last night's Phish show at Bader Field in Atlantic City.

The whole vibe and presentation of the Bader Field run is interesting. Like the three-night run last year in Bethel, N.Y., or the upcoming run at Saratoga Springs, N.Y., it is three shows at one outdoor venue that requires fans to leave after each show instead of camping on site and choose if they want to come to one, two or all of the shows. 

But like the big weekends of yore, from the Clifford Ball to last year's Super Ball IX, there is a festival vibe to it - you could purchase a three-night pass, the stage sits on an open field with no seats and the venue is fully created from the ground up by the team the band hires to do so. And I am pretty sure it is the same team as before because I saw one of them, Russ Bennett (his big grey/white beard gives him away!) in the crowd last night. 

Both of these elements combined with Phish's top-notch playing to create an amazing show, excellent in its own right, but serving as a taste of what is to come - the opening third of a blowout weekend.

It was a fun, but shaky, start. Though "The Sloth" was a great, well-played opener, it gave way to some bad three-part disharmony on the intro to "My Sweet One". But with that out of the way, I counted only one more "ouch" moment, later when "It's Ice" almost fell apart at one spot.

Other than that it was good times and well-rehearsed playing on shorter tunes like "Camel Walk" (only my third in 77 shows!), "Cities" and "Ginseng Sullivan". Fan favorite "Tube" was happily stretched out more than what has become the norm, especially after last year's performances in which Trey was said to "pull the ripcord" on it just as it got going. Clocking in at 6:33, it was the longest "Tube" since 8/1/2009 (Red Rocks).

Set One really heated up with an incredible "Stash" - jammed out but focused and rocking. From that point, the band was unstoppable. "Simple" kicked butt, "The Wedge" was dead on, "Stealing Time from the Faulty Plan" was tight and climactic, and "The Squirming Coil" had that festival set-ending vibe a la the Great Went, where the band leaves the stage while Page plays a beautiful solo coda and tells the crowd they are taking a break.

From the moment they hit the stage for Set Two, it was ON. Like freakin' Donkey Kong. Another one of my Great Went favorites, "My Soul" kicked it off in high bluesy gear, but "Birds of a Feather" quickly became the night's MVP. The jam shot upwards in pointy peaking solos from Trey and outwards from awesome band interaction. An absolutely sick, impossibly perfect segue into an excellent "Back on the Train" kept things moving nicely into a 'Farmhouse' mini-set that also included "Heavy Things" and two more examples of why we keep coming back to see this band. 

"Twist" had enormous energy emanating from the band. The "Woo!"s were emphatic and celebratory. When the band finished it, they kept going "Woo!" as they sometimes had in the past. But the audience was feeling it, too, and we started "Woo!"ing right back. So as the opening strains of "Piper" began we were trading "Woo!"s with Trey. Much to Trey's apparent delight, we continued our happy dialogue with the band as they began to sing the words, so it sounded like this:

"Her words were words I sailed upon..." "WOOO!!" "...Piper, piper, the red, red worm. Woke last night to the sound of the storm. Her words were words I sailed upon..." "WOOO!!"

I hope that comes through on the soundboard recording because I would hate for it to have been a you-had-to-be-there moment.

And the fun did not stop there. The "Piper" jam went way out into the stratosphere, climaxing and then falling into beautiful ambience that included a bass bomb from Mike that was so heavy, I thought my bowels were going to let loose.

In classic form, they eased back after such a rocking high point, delivering the first "Billy Breathes" in almost two years and playing it with lovely grace and precision, delivering sweet, harmonious vocals. But as if the set was not diverse enough already, they brought the funk with "Sneaking Sally Through the Alley" before closing with a huge "David Bowie" that included six teases of songs previously played in the show during the intro and a monster jam at it's conclusion.

When they kicked into "First Tube" for the encore there was still so much energy being transmitted between band and crowd that we picked up the "Woo!"s again on the downbeats of every other measure. Trey was beaming as he gave us an "Oh yeah!" kind of raised elbow fist. And when the lights stopped flashing and swirling as the final chord brought the show to a close, everyone was satisfied. We were still "Woo!"ing as we left the venue, some heading to the casinos for some late-night gambling, some to hotels, some home.

A girl near me in the crowd said it was her first show. I told her to immediately go to the casinos because luck was clearly on her side to get a show like this as her first. Or maybe this is Phish in 2012 - melting faces on a nightly basis like in their young prime.

Epic, indeed.

Always on the brink

As I type this, it is Friday, June 15, and I am on a Greyhound bus from New York City to Atlantic City for three nights of Phish. I am ridiculously excited, but that is not what I want to address right now. Instead, I want to talk about speed work and training for this 5K race.  If you know me, you know that I tend to push just a little too hard. If I run a good race, I will only want to run a better one. While I think I have a couple more marathon PRs in me, this desire to keep topping myself, I think, has reached it's limit in the short game. Since the disastrous Gansett Marathon in April, I have been trying to get back into 5K shape. I tortuously dieted down to a lean 145, but every time I ratcheted up my training, I got injured. And even now, with my twice-postponed 5K still two weeks away, I feel on the brink of pulling some muscle, tendon or ligament.  I do not want to face the notion that the Hal Higdon Advanced program is too much for me to handle, but with six days of running per week and half of them involving speed, I wonder if I am in over my head. There are only two easy run days for recovery. By the time my Thursday rest day comes around, I can not even enjoy it because I am so fatigued. I can not even get the usual joy out of long run day because I feel so damaged. On the other hand, the effort is clearly showing results. This week's track workouts included six 400-meter intervals that I blasted out at an average of 1:20 each and three one-mile intervals that averaged 6:05 a piece with some gas still left on the tank. But what good will it do if I can not make it to race day...again? In the last 10 minutes of today's 41-minute tempo run, during which I tried to do 10K pace or better for nine minutes in the middle, something in the back of my left leg did not feel right. It was tight, pulling, straining. Like I said, always on the brink. Even now, as I sit on the bus, it hurts. And I have a long run to do in the morning (not to mention a lot of dancing to do tonight!). It is going to be a rough two weeks.

You are a terrible driver

An open letter to drivers in northeastern New Jersey (and Long Island, too):

You suck.

Seriously, 90 percent of you are horrible drivers. And it is not even because you are dumb or ill-informed (which would at least be somewhat forgivable). No, you simply do not care. Thus, you are jerks and I hate you.

Before you start thinking that you belong to the minority of good drivers, I assure you, you're not.  And the fact that you would think you are among the good 10 percent makes you even more of an ignorant jerk.

Let me ask you three things:

1. Do you drive at or under the speed limit? 

2. Do you actually come to a full stop at a stop sign?  And then do you look both ways before proceeding?

3. Do you stop for pedestrians that are trying to cross a crosswalk?

No.  You don't.  Don't even try to lie to yourself.

And it is because of you that I come close to getting hit by a car almost every time I go out running.  Usually the only thing that saves me is that I have superior intelligence and I can tell just by the way your car is moving or, if possible, the look on your face, that you are not paying attention to the fact that pedestrians are around. 

It's not like I come out of nowhere, either.  Cars are traveling at 30 to 50 miles per hour and you usually manage to see them.  But here I come at 9 miles per hour on a good day and I may as well be nonexistent.

So shape up, northeastern New Jersey drivers. If you don't, we're going to end up in a newspaper article together about vehicular manslaughter and a runner cut down in his prime.

Postponed yet again

It has been one crappy month.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly for the first couple of weeks after the Gansett Marathon. Then I accidentally smashed my Achilles tendon with a shopping cart, which prevented me from running for four days. After that, I got sick with a fever, which prevented me from running for two days. I eased back into it with a slight pain in my knee which went away during following week, but during my long run on May 19, I pulled a hamstring. That knocked me out for six days.

All the while, the days that I actually could run, I was running slowly and doing short distances. It seems most of my runs since the race, now more than six weeks ago, have been recovery runs. By now, I should be in the middle of a raging short race season. I should have tons of speed work under my belt - 400 meter intervals galore and seven-mile tempo runs. Instead, I am stuck doing three-milers at slower-than-marathon pace. I could not even begin my season on the already postponed date of June 2.

So I will set my target date for a third time for my opening race of the season - June 30, the Include Me! 5K, which benefits Pathways for Exceptional Children.

That is, if I do not suffer some other injury in the meantime.

Three days until Phish tour begins...

...and I am champing at the bit, foaming at the mouth and generally getting hysterical.

There is nothing, NOTHING, like the beginning of a new Phish tour. 

And I'm not even going to a show until the June 15!

But I will be downloading those suckers as soon as they're available, starting with the tour opener at the DCU Center in Worcester, Mass. Spending an extra $247.45 to download the shows that I won't be attending makes all the sense in the world.

Spring racing season

With the Gansett Marathon behind me, it is time to start shaping my spring racing season. I find that, thanks to Hal Higdon's Post-Marathon training program, starting from scratch and training for a 5K is the best way to move forward after a marathon.
There is no shortage of spring 5Ks in northern New Jersey, so the pickings should be easy and plentiful. Unfortunately, I painted myself into a corner with all the other activities I planned, so I wanted to begin ASAP.

Five weeks is the standard turnaround time and I had my heart set on Pediatric Angel Network Classic 5K in Madison on May 19. That fell through when I injured myself and then got sick last week. Starting all over again, I decided I would be ready on June 2. I have few other options now, what with the Gogol Bordello show in Montclair that night (ruling out June 3); a family party on Long Island on June 9 (killing that whole weekend); and the Phish shows in Atlantic City from June 15 to 18, Wantagh, N.Y., on July 3 and 4, and Saratoga Springs, N.Y., on July 7 and 8.

Take a look at the description of my blog - this is now the conundrum of my life. How do I balance racing with Phish tour? Can I run my best when I am up late dancing at Phish shows? Can I enjoy Phish shows when I am up early for races? During last year's tour, I was marathon training. Now, I want to be short racing.

We shall see how it goes, but one thing is for certain - I need to make a great showing at the Hoboken Catholic Academy 5K on June 2 because it may be my only real shot until June 23.

The "2112" reset button

One of the great things about post-marathon training is that it is like a reset button. For the first time in 18 weeks, I was able to simply run without any regard for time or past performance.

So after four days of rest, I did what I always do on the first post-marathon run of the season - I put the epic 20-minute Rush song "2112" on my Ipod and ran a carefree three miles. 

Knowing I would be a little slow, and having fun with the "year" theme, I also added one of Phish's renditions of "2001"  - the classical piece "Also Sprach Zarathustra", best known for its usage in '2001: A Space Odyssey', but performed in the funk disco mode of Deodato's 1970s recording.

Awesome.

Eli on 'SNL', and why sports stars tend to work well

I know this is not about running or Phish, thus defying the tagline of my blog, but I am a big 'Saturday Night Live' fan and I felt the need to comment on last night's episode. What makes me different from every other idiot on the Internet talking about it?  I am not a sports fan. I could not care less about the Giants or the Super Bowl or football at all. I'm not even sure I know what a quarterback does. The NFL could fold tomorrow and it would not affect my life slightest bit. Paradoxically, I enjoy when sports figures show up to host. There always seems to be an easy, laid-back vibe to the show when these folks host. So even when the show is not particularly funny (last night's "Helga Lately" and "TMC - Cheech and Chong), it is always enjoyable.

I spoke with my friend, Gavin, about this phenomenon while we watched Charles Barkley's episode earlier this season. Barkley nailed the show perfectly, and so did Gavin in his assessment. He said that sports figures are in their element in front of crowds, in pressure situations, on live TV. That's why they pull it off. I'll go even further and add that half of a popular athlete's job (and I'm only talking about the biggies here - the ones even I have heard of) is good PR. These guys take that stuff seriously, but the best ones don't take *themselves* too seriously, so they are game for dressing in drag (Manning's "Miss Drag World" - also not funny, but amusing - and Barkley's "Joann's Announcement") or getting smacked in the face with an old fuddy-duddy reporter's microphone (the great Bill Hader in "Herb Welch - Occupy Movement").

Obviously, comedic and stage actors work in front of live crowds, too, but the dynamic is different. When we saw Ben Stiller, Charlie Day and Daniel Radcliffe this season, we were seeing them work in their element and thus the essence of the performances generated from their own presence. Movie stars without the live background, be it from comedy clubs or theater stages, can be a gamble - as Lindsey Lohan and, to a lesser extent, Jonah Hill - when they rely too heavily on either the cue cards or their own star power to pull them through. Though I must point out that while Hill suffered from weaker writing (it happens - not everything can be gold), Lohan performed reverse alchemy, turning gold writing into a scrap-metal show.

Non-actors, on the other hand, turn the show into a writer's game. Sports stars usually do their homework, so they can be relied upon to deliver exactly what the writers produce, even if their acting is stiff. You can tell Manning memorized his lines and worked hard at it. Wisely, they stuck to the formula for great beloved-sports-figure episodes - making fun of himself (the funny "Motion Capture"), saying outrageous things (the hilarious "Text Message Evidence"), or focusing on a key aspect of his celebrity (the absolutely brilliant "Little Brothers") - and Manning aced it each time. 

He also did a bang-up job as the contestant on his girlfriend's game show, "What Is This?" who gets blindsided into having to answer the titular question, with the "this" being that important catch-all for the girl wanting to know the status of their relationship. Definitely one of the top sketches of the night.

The whole episode reminded me of the 'SNL' glory days of my youth when Wayne Gretzky and Chris Evert hosted. Those sports stars were given solid material by the writers and delivered great shows. Last night, Manning did the same.

Oh, and praise is due to "Weekend Update" for Kristin Wiig's Patricia Krentcil and Sasha Baron Cohen's Admiral General Aladeen with Martin Scorcese (!), too!

A few more things about Block Island

If you want to know why I love going back to the Block year after year (for eight now), here are a few of its attributes.

The island is only accessible by ferry (and only from Point Judith during the non-summer seasons) and small aircraft. There are no chain stores, no Starbucks, and no fast food joints. No building is taller than four stories.

If you ever get an opportunity to visit this quaint slice of heaven, you must stay at the 1661 Inn or its related properties. During the summer it is very expensive, but if you do not mind blowing a couple of hundred bucks per night, you will be very pleased. The rooms are gorgeous and the service is hotel quality in a bed and breakfast setting. The champagne buffet breakfasts are incredible and the afternoon "wine and nibble" is more than worth coming back to the inn for between outdoor excursions.

However, in the off-season, these same rooms are amazingly affordable. My friend, Lee, and I stayed in the Dodge Cottage, just down the road from the main building. For $300, they offer three-night stay at a room in the cottage, round trip ferry tickets, a $75 gift certificate to any of five restaurants, plus the buffet breakfasts (though scaled down a bit). Worth it!

Relaxing (but not resting) on Block Island

After the race my friend, Lee (who accompanied me on the trip for some fun and good cheer), and I hung around the Narragansett area. We went to the beach (though it was a bit windy and chilly) and enjoyed the day. We ate a lot, got a little tipsy, and stayed the night near Scarborough Beach. In the morning, we headed out on the noon ferry to Block Island, my favorite getaway spot, where I have gone on extended weekends once a year for the past eight.

If you do not know, Block Island is a tiny island that sits 12 miles off the coast of the state of Rhode Island. It is so far out into the water that it is only 14 miles from Montauk, the tip of Long Island, New York. It is the smallest municipality (13 square miles) with the smallest population (900) in the smallest state in the country. And it is gorgeous.

We had a great room (the Alice Mae) at the Dodge Cottage, which included excellent champagne buffet breakfasts at the 1661 Inn. We stuffed ourselves silly during those breakfasts and the dinners at the Poor People's Pub and Mohegan Cafe. And, as promised, we consumed more than a bit of alcohol. With the car on the mainland, there was no danger of drinking and driving!

During the days, I was supposed to be resting, it was hard to resist the fun of renting bicycles and tooling around the island for hours, hiking the Greenway trails, and discovering beach areas to which I had not yet been. It was unseasonably warm on Monday and Tuesday, so we totally lucked out for outdoor activity. I am guessing here, but I would say I probably biked about 25 miles on Monday and hiked around 15 on Tuesday. Amazingly, my legs did not hurt a bit.

We returned to the mainland on Wednesday morning and though I had not been physically as inactive as I probably should have been, I felt wonderfully rested.

Gansett Marathon, Part Two

Just as it was at the New Jersey Marathon four years ago, this double-loop race was a tale of two races. The first loop was incredible - fast, exciting, adrenalized. 

The second loop, in this case the last 10 of the 26.2 miles, quickly became disastrous. 

Rounding past the start line once again, I felt good. I knew I had lost a little time (the clock said 1:52, which meant I was still at a sub-7 pace) but I felt strong. However, it was time to tackle that long incline into the wind along Ocean Road again. And this time it was miles 17 through 20. The more I climbed, the more I could feel the energy draining. 

There were markers every half mile and I began to eagerly await my arrival at each, but it seemed longer and longer between them - Mile 17...17-and-a-half.......18..........18-and-half................where's the 19? How much longer?? 

By the time I hit the 19-mile mark, it was over. I knew my race was ruined. I had hit the wall and all kinds of horrible things started happening. For starters, my stomach began feeling uneasy. By the 20-mile mark, it went from uneasy to queasy, then to downright sickly by mile twenty-one. At the aid stations, I could not even think about taking water or Gatorade for fear of upchucking on the spot. 

Everything else seemed to feel OK. My legs did not hurt and my lungs were breathing well. But the nausea and cramps in my tummy were unbearable. Along the woodsy area in mile 22, I went from a run to a trot to a jog. By the time I gave the thumbs down to the photographer near mile 23, I was down to a pathetic shuffle. 

All the while, I was counting down the approximate amount of minutes until I could puke. That was ALL I was thinking about for almost seven miles. 

"48 more minutes, then I can vomit....half hour, then I can vomit..." Finally, unceremoniously, I shuffled to the finish line, beaten, broken and ready to spew. 

 I crossed the finish line at a dismal 3:13, proceeded to the nearest trees, and yakked up rivers of bright yellow liquid. I guess it was the Gatorade, of which I had too much early in the race, mixed with the energy gels and chews I had been taking. It seemed never-ending. 

When the vomiting finally subsided, the crying began, though just a little. It was not like the sobbing I did on Karen's shoulder at the New Jersey Marathon in 2008 (the only other time I hit the wall). It was more like a wave of emotion finally catching up. 

And then, I was fine. Physically sore and exhausted, but mentally OK. By the time I showered and attended the awards ceremony, I was moving slowly, but in a good headspace. I knew what I had done wrong - over-fueled, started too fast - and I knew how to fix it. This will not be my last marathon and I still refuse to believe I peaked in 2009. 

In December, I will run the Mangrove Marathon in Cape Coral, Fla., and test my mettle once again. And I will remember what one of the race volunteers said to me as I shuffled past him in agony: "You can always come back and fight another day."