Coaching Alexis

Years ago, when I first started running, I had an amazing mentor named Tim Norris. This veteran of 25 marathons and five ultras sat diagonal from me at the office. As I advanced from novice runner to marathoner, he was there, coaching me along. All I had to do was swivel my chair and I could get sage running advice from a guy that had done it all.

A friend and former co-worker that sat exactly the same distance from me before leaving the company last year told me via email in January that she was going to run the More Magazine Women's Half Marathon in April and needed my advice. It was my turn to be the mentor.

Alexis had never run more than a couple of miles without stopping and she was going to tackle 13.1 in mere months, so the first thing I did was direct her to HalHigdon.com for a suitable 12-week training plan.

During the course of the next three months, she emailed me with her progress and asked me about things like clothing, diet, remedies for aches and pains - all the things I asked Tim about when I ran my first half.

And I had answers! Lots of them! You should see our ever-growing emails as the weeks passed. As she gave me her account of each week's new triumph (Six miles! Seven! Eight!), I not only felt proud, but I felt her joy because I was suddenly transported to 2007 when I was in her shoes.

On April 14, I could not imagine being anywhere but at Central Park in New York City, cheering her on.

The race was huge (8,000 women) and yet very well organized. But it was tough finding a parking space, so I was not there for the start. And with so many runners, it was hard to find one person in the throng. But somewhere between the ninth and 10th mile marker, I saw Alexis. I yelled for her and ran with her a little bit, asking how she felt.

"Tired!" was her response, and she looked it as she chugged up the hill, but I knew she could do it and I told her so.

A half hour or so later, I waited near the finish line and saw a whole different Alexis. This Alexis was beaming, pushing to the finish with all her might. It was the look of triumph, the look of a goal attained, the look I must have had on my face in Long Branch six years ago. It was incredible. A few months ago, this woman was not even a runner. And now, 13.1 miles.

I hugged her, congratulated her and left her to celebrate with her family. After all, this was not about me. I gave her direction and helped her as much as I could, but Alexis' accomplishment is hers and hers alone. She had the drive to do it, and she did it. She would have done it with or without me.

Still, she kept thanking me for my help and encouragement. I felt like I had paid forward Tim's contributions to my running life. But doing so never felt like a chore. In fact, it made me feel really, really good. So maybe I should be thanking Alexis.

Tragedy in Boston

What to say about today's tragedy at the Boston Marathon?

First thought - it is awful and brutal.

One could say that it is statistically a low-grade terrorist attack, with "only" two deaths among the several injured; that it does not compare to the death toll of recent tragedies. But that would be severely understating the impact and importance of this occurrence that will affect large races and any big-city event in Boston and elsewhere for years to come.

Two deaths are two too many. I still do not know if they were runners or spectators, but they were there for the common purpose of supporting and participating in the world's oldest annual marathon; an event steeped in tradition and prestige. My heart goes out to those who lost life or limb and their families and friends.

My heart also goes out to the tens of thousands of runners who worked their butts off to run qualifying marathons or raised money to run with a charities; who scraped up enough dough to get to Boston and get hotel rooms for the night; who spent a chilly morning at the Athletes' Village; who proudly stood in a corral at 10 a.m., ready to run the race that so many runners strive for.  Today was supposed to be the culmination of that hard work, the most joyous day in their running lives. Even if they finished an hour before or an hour after the explosions, their memories of this occasion will be marred forever.

I am sure that the effect of this will ripple throughout the nationwide running community, and through Boston, for a long while. The running community is pretty strong with encouragement and good vibes. More than ever, we need to keep that attitude. But right now, I am feeling nothing but sadness.

Be well, Boston. We are all here for you.


P.S. I am OK, Steve. Thankfully, I was not in Boston today. I appreciate your concern, bud.

"Strides for HOPE" 5K

After six weeks of changing up my training mode from marathon to 5K, I ran the Strides for HOPE (Help Overcome Pediatric Epilepsy) 5K in Livingston.

To be honest, I really did not know what to expect. I am not that familiar with terrain of Livingston, so I did not know if it would be hilly.  The weather would start out cold but warm up quickly, so it was tough to gauge what to wear.  And with my recent Achilles tendon injury, I wondered if I would hold up. 

So I went into it with the thought that I would strive for a PR, but I figured it was not going to realistically happen.  I have all of April to keep shooting for it anyway.

The race was well organized - and this was an inaugural event.  Kudos to the organizers, volunteers and supporters.  Parking was easy, check-in was a breeze and the vibe was excellent.  The cotton T-shirt was nicely designed, too.

OK, so there was a bit of a late start because they had some trouble getting the walkers out of the way of the course of where the runners would be, but it was fine.  The morning was chilly, but the 10 a.m. sun was warming everyone up.  Standing at the starting line for some extra time gave me a chance to size up the competition, too.  I stood behind a kid that was clearly going to win the thing - thin, lithe, bursting with energy, I figured this kid had a 17-minute race in him.  My goal, then, was to keep him in sight.  That would surely net me a good race.

There were also some small children at the front of the lineup and though I do not think they belong there, they were excited and seemed to really want to get a fast start.  I had no worries about trampling them because I started tailing the winner-to-be at the sound of the horn.

We started with a lap around the half-mile "oval" - a circular roadway with a grassy interior behind Livingston High School - and then it was onto the local roads. Sure enough, Speedy Kid was out in front.  I passed the little girls and a few guys that seemed to be younger than my age group, settling into a fourth place spot by the time we got out of the oval.  Once on the local streets, I passed a guy that seemed about my age.  The age-group awards are always in mind when I run these races!

I can not praise the volunteer staff of this race enough. There were a lot of turns on short blocks for this race, with a portion that went off the road and around what I assume was the front and side of the high school.  I paid little attention to my surroundings except to look at the volunteers pointing the way, which they did beautifully.  By that time, I was in a distant second place with Speedy long out of sight, having made my move on a younger guy that was petering out on the uphills in the second mile.  Hills are always where I make my move.

There were also volunteers calling out times at the mile markers - I nailed a 5:48 for my first mile (yes!), but I could not quite hear my second-mile time. The girl calling it out had a softer voice that did not penetrate through my intense concentration and the sound of my breathing reverberating in my head.  I thought I heard "12:38", but I know that is not right.  For a few seconds, I tried to do the math, but I could focus on nothing but pushing, pushing, pushing to keep my stride, imagining myself on the track, doing my 1:28 400-meter intervals.  All I needed to know was that I had an eight second cushion from the first mile that could still get me a PR.

Back on the road, I could see Speedy way up in the distance, and as we turned back into the "oval", I slammed it into high gear - the kind of high gear that would surely end in hurting, but worth it for a final 800-meter sprint. 

Speedy was finished and I kept my eyes on the balloons at the finish line.  The spectators were cheering loudly for me and that kept me motivated.  As I rounded the corner to the entrance road where the finish line was, I saw the clock hit 18:20.  I was actually surprised!  I had been pushing with all my might, lengthening my stride to the max, and those last few yards were going to make the difference between breaking my 18:30 PR or just missing it.

The clock ticked through the 18:20s for the longest, hardest eight seconds of my running life, but when I hit that line at 18:28, it blew my mind.  A PR at my first 5K in 10 months.  Wow.

I received a nifty plaque for coming in second place and spent some time talking with Speedy and his coach.  That 15-year-old kid has some serious potential.  I am going to look up his name and check up on him from time to time.

For the rest of the event, the organizers kept everyone entertained with a kids' fun run, costumed "Star Wars" characters (a Storm Trooper, an Imperial Guard and a Clone Trooper), and a ton of raffles for great prizes like an Ipad, a TV, and more. 

This race has the potential to grow in future years.  As an early April race for a great cause in a pleasant town in northern Essex County, it can become many northern New Jerseyans' gateway to the spring racing season.

Time for the short races

It is April.  It has been six weeks since the Central Park Marathon.  It is time to kick into gear with some short races.

Usually, when I do the post-marathon training, I am excited to change up my training program, trading long distance for short sprints, endurance for speed.  But after four grueling weeks of track intervals, tempo runs and sub-6:00 mile blasts, I was hurting in so many places - my Achilles tendon, my quads, my back, even my groin.

Is it worth it?  I do not even know.  I just know that this is what I have been doing for six years. Now in my late 30s, I think it is logical to assume that my fastest 5Ks are behind me, so why do I keep reaching for a 5:56 pace?

The only answer with which I can come up is "Why not?"

If I train for it, but do not actually achieve it, then at least I know I put my all into it; that I tried, to the best of my ability. Why not set the bar high?

So tomorrow I will run the Strides for Hope 5K in Livingston. (http://saintbarnabasfoundation.donordrive.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.event&eventID=574)

And I am going to run as fast as I can.  Otherwise, why bother racing at all?

Hands on a Hardbody - an honestly skewed review

I saw 'Hands on a Hardbody', the new Broadway musical co-written by Trey Anastasio during previews, about a month ago.

I saw it pretty much because of that co-writer (natch).

But over the past five years I have developed an unexpected appreciation for musical theater, thanks to my relationship with Karen - a singer and actress in many New Jersey community theater productions. In the time I have known her, I have seen community productions of "Jesus Christ Superstar", "Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris" (both of which starred Karen), "Into the Woods", "Kiss Me Kate", "Next to Normal", "Clue" and "Godspell" and I have enjoyed all of them thoroughly.  I even listen to the Broadway channel on Sirius XM on a semi-regular basis.

And, of course, I am a Phish fan.  So it made all the sense in the world to finally go see a real Broadway show because it was this Broadway show.  (For the record, I am a fan of Green Day, and they almost got me there with 'American Idiot'). 

Here is the funny thing - as much as I enjoyed 'Hardbody', it did not really feel like a Broadway show.  I was in New York City, at the Brooks Atkinson Theatre, watching an honest-to-goodness BROADWAY show, and I could not help but think, "This would make a great community theater production."

In the weeks since, I have read a bunch of reviews, some positive, some negative, most somewhere in between, and I seem to agree with all of them.  It does feel too small to be on Broadway alongside such monumental spectacles that are occuring down the block.  But it also is engaging, joyful, funny, touching and entertaining.

As for the music, what is not to like about music written by Trey Anastasio?

Am I biased? You bet! But so what?  To criticize the fact that I went into it already a fan of the writer is silly.  I am not a professional reviewer, so why would I go see any show (theater or otherwise) by someone I did NOT like?

If you are a Phish fan, go see 'Hardbody' because no matter how else you feel about a show that involves a bunch of people standing around the truck, you are going to like the music. 

Sometimes it sounds like Phish - the opening number has a nice funk groove and "I'm Gone" has all the makings of a great Trey ballad. 

Sometimes it IS Phish - "My Problem Right There" and "Burn That Bridge" have been played by Phish and Trey's solo band.

Sometimes there is no resemblence but there is a certain vibe that just feels familiar and like home - the uplifting final number "Keep Your Hands on It" will make you feel all warm and fuzzy.

And because any good phan will be honestly critical, I will say there is one clunker of a tune called "It's a Fix". Hey, occasionally, you get a bad tune at a Phish show, too (if I never hear "Lifeboy" again, my life will not lack for it).

Plus, the actors seem to be putting their all into it and that truck, being the only stage prop of note, becomes quite the centerpiece as it is moved and shifted and turned throughout the show. 

The show bills itself as a new musical "Made in America" and that is no joke.  Every facet of every story told by every cast member is so distinctly American it is impossible not to relate to at least one of the characters.  It may take place in Texas, but its sentiment is thoroughly nationwide.

And hey, if you do not want to cough up Broadway prices for such a simple show, worry not - in a couple of years, I bet it will be playing at your local community theater.  I am sure it will be just as good.

More D&R Canal - Princeton through Trenton

Two weeks ago and yesterday, I continued my exploration of the Delaware and Raritan Canal.

Two weeks ago, I ran seven miles from Princeton University to Trenton and back again. There was not much to see along this stretch as the canal fades away and is replaced by the not-very-scenic Route 1. Still the peacefulness was fantastic, I saw some other runners, and of course the flatness was quite welcome. The only "hill" was the incline to get up to the fancy footbridge that crossed over Route 1.

By the time I got to my turnaround point at Mulberry Street in Trenton, I was running alongside railroad tracks and entering a pretty run-down section of our state capital.

Still, it was an excellent 14-mile run to break up my usual post-marathon short-race speed training.


Yesterday, I parked the car on Mulberry Street and started where I left off before. This section of the path actually went through the city for the first couple of miles, so I was crossing a lot of city blocks and trying to pay close attention to the signs zig-zagging me around the roads and intersections. In the third mile or so (at Willow Avenue), the path split - both sections met up again later on, so I ran one way on the "out" and take the other path on the "back".

When the city streets gave way to the actual canal again, I got that good peaceful feeling again and was able to pick up the pace while still remaining comfortable. I also started seeing more people on the trail (I was very much alone for the first few miles). When I got the the turnaround point at W. Upper Ferry Road, I was actually surprised. Had I already gone 6.5 miles?

For a fleeting moment, I considered continuing on, but I knew it was best for my "active recovery" to do just the 13.1 planned miles. Good thing - at around mile 11, my Achilles started giving me that message of a dull ache. I finished before the dull ache became full-blown pain.

And with a time of 1:32:29, I nailed a 7:02 pace. That's marathon pace - probably a lot faster than I should have gone, but a good indicator of my fitness and comfort level, and a testament to my active recovery.