Step into the freezer

Because I selected a March race for my first post-injury marathon, I have had to train through the winter. December was not bad. Temperatures were routinely in the 40s for my training runs (not to mention my week in Florida where I ran in 70+ sunshine).

Even as January began and the training ramped up (using Hal Higdon's most difficult program - Adavnced 2 - because I am a glutton for punishment), not a lot of weather related obstacles were thrown my way. I ran a simulated half-marathon time trial on Jan. 2. It was chilly but sunny and, despite the big hills on my course, I ran a time with which I would have been happy were it a real race.

Then came the blizzard on Jan. 16. Thankfully, I had already run my first 20-miler the previous week, so I only had to do 13. And, yes, I did do all 13, in the thick of the storm; wind and snow blowing in my face as I trudged through snow-covered streets. When asked why I did not postpone the run, my answer was the usual - I stick to the schedule and train in everything so I can race in anything, whether a long run in two feet of snow, speed work on snowy paths and tracks, or hill sprints on icy streets.

But even those were no match for that 15-degree Saturday, with arctic winds whipping at 25 to 35 mph, in which I ran my first ever 22-mile training run.

I might have been slightly under-dressed with my compression shirt topped with a technical polyester shirt and my tights. For the first few miles, even as my chest, arms and legs warmed up, my fingers were freezing my lightweight but usually effective gloves until about the sixth mile. Even my toes were frigid until the third mile.

As I ran south from Little Falls through Cedar Grove, into Verona and West Orange via Mount Prospect Avenue (and climbing some sizeable hills), I never felt comfortable, but I always felt able. At the halfway point, along South Mountain Reservation, I felt strong and accomplished, even as the wind picked up and blew some cold gusts at me.

Returning along Pleasant Valley Way, I could feel myself getting into those mid-teen mileage doldrums, yet even then, I never once dipped below a 7:55 pace as I had on my previous long runs. Even better, in the 17th mile, as I approached a group of bundled up young ladies, they started cheering for me. Nothing beats encouragement from the fairer gender.

I finished the 22 in 2:49:48. That's a 7:40 pace. If that was a marathon, and I could hold on for another four miles, I would have come in under 3:25:00. On the coldest, windiest day of the year! And because it was so cold, I did not even break a sweat.

That is why I train in everything. If I could muster that result in those conditions, imagine what I can do on race day in South Carolina next week. 

Fall 1985 and 1995

In the autumn of 1985, not even the heartiest of Phish phans (of which there were, what, a few dozen?) could have imagined where the band would be a decade hence.

The few tapes that circulate from that era display a band generally goofing off with musical oddities like "Anarchy" and its twin "Revolution" (10/17), "Makisupa Policeman" (11/14), and "Dave's Energy Guide".  Still, "Mike's Song" and "Run Like an Antelope" are fun to hear in their early stages and the first known performance of "Harry Hood" (10/30) is impressive if only for the fact that the whole structure of the song is pretty much exactly as we know it today. This was a five-piece Phish during its short time with both Jeff Holdsworth, who would quit the following spring, and new-member Page McConnell.  Also of note is a full acoustic rendition of Bob Dylan's "Hurricane" to commemorate the release from prison of Rubin Carter, the song's subject, which happened that week.  On a personal level, that song is interesting to hear because I am pretty sure it is the only time Trey has ever name-checked the New Jersey city of Paterson.

A decade later, the fall of 1995 showed a band at the full height of its powers.  From Sept. 27 to Dec. 17, Phish played a whopping 54 shows which, most notably, included the enormous undertaking of playing the entirety of the Who's Quadrophenia in the middle of the Halloween show.  But to listen to the entirety of the tour, one finds that the epic 10/31 show did not exist in a vacuum.  Rather, the buildup is intense, with every show knocking it out of the park.  You want an example?  Pick a show, any show.  Not only is there not a bad show in the tour, especially before Halloween, there is not even a show that is less than fantastic.

It was as if the band was on a mission to convert all doubters (this was, after all, the first tour since the death of Jerry Garcia), so every show was not just Phish - it was Super Phish, and each outing had to be an example of everything the band did, and did well, up to that point.  You want huge jams?  You got them in all the heavy hitters like "You Enjoy Myself", "David Bowie", "Tweezer" and "Antelope", and you were bound to get at least one per show.

The Super Phish checklist did not end there.  Bluegrass?  Check.  A cappella barbershop?  Check.  Classic rock covers?  Check.  Amusing covers sung by Jon Fishman?  Check (usually "Suspicious Minds", but other oddball choices like Aerosmith's "Cryin'" came up).  New songs, old songs, fast songs, slow songs.  They are all represented.  Go to phishows.com or phishtracks.com and pick a show.  Again, it would be futile to select specific performances because they are all that good.  Seriously.

The only thing left to do is to point out some of the interesting ways the songs were evolving, especially "Free", which reached a creative high-point in a 35-minute version on Nov. 22, 1995.  Though still not quite the arrangement we know today, once the jam lifted off it was impossible to return.  The fact that it segued seamlessly into "Llama" gives you an idea how far off the reservation it traveled in that half-hour.

The other noticeable song evolution was what became known as "Taste That Surrounds".  It started as "Taste" in the summer (sort of as we know it today, but without the middle section), but changed lyrically and melodically to "Fog That Surrounds" in early autumn, with Fish singing verses that included bits which became the now-standard middle section, only to give way to the return of the "Taste" melody and lyrics that, in part, included Fish singing his entire verses at the same time (hence, "Taste That Surrounds").  Sometimes Phish comes out with a fully realized song (like "Hood" in 1985) and sometimes the boys bring it out there and work it out in front of the audience (like "Simple" in 1994).

But there is no denying that the constant playing and practicing (even if it was for the Quadrophenia set) was paying off.  By the end of the fall tour, Phish had become the seasoned band that was about to deliver the killer New Year's Eve show, what many of us feel is one of the best ever.