Mayor's 5K Run/Walk for ALS Research, West Orange, NJ - Oct. 9, 2022

It was a chilly but sunny morning and, after five weeks of marathon recovery and short-race training (still using Hal Higdon's Post-Marathon Intermediate training plan), I was as ready as I could be for the Mayor's 5K in West Orange, my second in-person race of the year.

Looking around at the competition gathering in front of Town Hall, I noticed it was a small field and most of the people seemed to be there to walk, not run.  And why not?  It was a great cause, a nice day, and a mostly flat course.  My pre-game assessment - I would run my best, enjoy the race-day amenities and probably take home an age group award.

So I did what I always do - planted myself near the front of the pack and blasted off at the go signal.  Within a minute, I was out in front of everyone as we headed south on Main Street to Northfield Avenue, with a quick turn on Valley Road.  After the turnaround at Kingsley Street, I headed back the way I came and clocked a 6:04 first mile.  Sub-6s are hard to come by these days, so that pace felt like an accomplishment; but I knew I would probably not be able to sustain it.  

Turnarounds are good because you can get an idea of where you are in the pack and how far the next person behind you is.  To my surprise, I had built quite a gap already.

I had already checked out the course the day prior, but it still felt reassuring to have the police motorcycle in front of me.  As great as it is being the front runner, it is unsettling to be unsure of the course and have no one to chase.  This course consisted of two out-and-backs - first south, then north - so there was not much to mess up. 

Back on Main Street and passing Town Hall, it was a slight uphill as I ran past Thomas Edison National Historical Park and a local school into a 6:15 second mile.  Still good with that, I thought as I approached the northern turnaround and noticed that I was way ahead of the next runner.  

I could not believe it.  This race was mine to lose.  All I had to do was keep pushing for another six minutes and it was in the bag.  Not only that, but was it possible that I could actually get in under 19 minutes for the first time this decade?  Some fatigue was setting in, but now - forget winning the race - seeing an 18 on the clock was my new mission.  To do so, I had to run 1.1 miles in 6:40.  Doable, but not that easy these days.  I dug deep, pushed a little harder and, amazingly, managed to log my fastest mile of the race with a 6:02.  

I brought it home with all my might for the last 38 seconds, finishing at 18:59, and somehow winning a race for the sixth time.  I felt pretty wiped out, but I was happy as can be.  It has been six years since I crushed my goal of getting in under 18 minutes; now, at 48 years old, a sub-19 feels just as victorious.  And holy moly, they gave me this huge trophy!

Pequannock Valley Rotary Foundation 5K - June 6, 2021

I was promised things that were not delivered.

After receiving my Covid vaccinations in April and May, it seemed like it was right to dip my toes back into the waters of in-person racing.  I had been running my own races in every distance for more than a year at this point.  

For a year, I literally had not touched another human being besides my wife, so the idea of standing in a crowd at a start line did not appeal to me, but this race made promises.  These included the requirement of face masks pre-race and post-race, as well as a staggered start with participants spaced six-feet apart.  There was even a stipulation that participants could be disqualified for not adhering to these guidelines.  

You do not believe me?  The guidelines are still online: runscore.runsignup.com/Race/NJ/Pequannock/PVRotary5k

Unfortunately, these were all lies.  Not one person (besides me) wore a mask and there was no staggered start.  I wore my mask at the start line and right through the first quarter mile or so until I was clear of the crowd of people. 

Ugh.  Crowds of people.  I did not miss that for the past year.

Getting a quick start to get away from the multitude, I bolted up West Parkway, making a right onto Birch Road and another onto Boulevard.  The course was somewhat familiar - I had run some of these road in previous races, as well as on long runs.  One thing I knew for sure was that the whole thing was flat, so the strategy was to keep the throttle at full speed for as long as possible, since there were no hills. 

It had been more than a year since my last sub-six mile, so my expectations are a lot lower these days.  That being the case, the 6:03 first mile was nice to see.  Not only that, but I was in a solid fifth place.  Boulevard seemed to take forever, but as I turned onto Slingerland Avenue, my second mile clocked in at 6:10.  Not bad.  Plus, I managed to pull into fourth, and the third place runner was in sight.

After some quick turns back onto West Parkway, then Stephen Avenue, Reynolds Road and Greenview Drive, I was closing in on the third place runner, but I could feel myself rapidly conking out.  I even briefly passed him, but he overtook me again.  Still, I managed to do mile three in 6:11.

I mustered up as big of a rallying kick as I could when I turned back onto West Parkway for the home stretch into Greenview Park, but that last tenth of a mile was still too slow for the pace I had been doing, taking 48 seconds when, really, it should have been more like 42 or so.

With a finish time of 19:14, and placing fourth overall and winning first prize for my age group (the overall winner was in his 40s, but they did not duplicate prizes, thankfully), I would say that this was a resounding success considering the dropoff in my speed due to my age.

Then again, the second overall finisher was 61.  Sixty-one!  Damn, way to make me feel bad about my ass-draggin' 46-year-old self.  Oh well, nothing to do but start marathon training again.

Rockaway 5K - April 11, 2021

For my usual post-marathon short race, I picked the Rockaway 5K course - not too far from home, but an area that, while I am somewhat familiar with it, I rarely do any running.  Actually, I'm more familiar with Rockaway Township (I have friends that live there and there is a mall there) but this course is in Rockaway Borough, which is right next to it.  That is so Jersey.

The figure-eight course started westbound on East Main Street (at Keller Avenue) with a short downhill before turning left onto Franklin Avenue, which was mostly flat.  My 6:19 first mile did not delight me, but it did not surprise me either.  I had thought for sure that with the re-introduction of speed training I could get closer to the 6:00 mark, at least in the first mile.  

I knew that was the best it was going to get because what goes down must come up and, sure enough there was a bit of an uphill after the turn onto Rockaway Avenue, back toward East Main.  Then it was back down that same hill from the start, past Franklin and a right turn on Jackson Avenue and another push up a small but significant enough hill that my pace was already falling apart with a 6:29 second mile and I continued onto Union Street.  

Already running out of gas but determined to push as hard as I could for the third mile (the last mile is no time to give up, after all), I was faced with another uphill battle after turning onto Stickle Avenue, which turned into Beach Street.  The approach from Beach back to Main was maybe a 50-foot ascent in about a third of a mile.  A few years ago, that would have been a small challenge, but I would have bounded up that hill, probably passing a few runners along the way.  On this day, it felt like a mountain.  

But I chugged up that mountain with all my might and, sure, when I hit the three-mile mark on East Main with a 6:27, it was nothing about which to write home, but I was proud that it was faster than the second mile.  

So with my last gasps, I hit the finish line in the Rockaway Assembly of God church parking lot 43 seconds later, finishing with a 19:58.  OK, well, 26 seconds faster than my previous 5K, but still slower than every other 5K I have run in the past 15 years.  

Now, I can accept that as the way it is and the way it is going to be...

...but I am going to start focusing on short-race training for the next couple of months, just to be sure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boonton SRT 5K - April 26, 2020

The weird times continue, but I still will not change my training cycles.  I decided to start training for a half marathon, ostensibly to take place sometime in the early summer.  Of course, the possibility remains that there will be no race to run.  Plus, Hal Higdon's Advanced Half-Marathon training program calls for sporadic shorter races to be run during the training cycle and there are definitely none of those happening.

There were plenty, however, that were supposed to happen, such as the Boonton SRT 5K in Boonton, NJ, on April 26.

Here is a fun fact: Any race that is certified by USA Track and Field has an official course map archived at certifiedroadraces.com.  Race got canceled?  No problem!  Look up the course map and run it yourself.  The start, end and turnaround points are explained and visualized in great detail, so you can be certain of its accuracy, even more so than if you use your GPS watch.  And knowing that you can run the exact race for which you trained gives your result that much more authenticity than if you ran 3.1 miles anywhere else.

So I found the course map and ran the race (later in the day, in case anyone else had the same idea).  

It was a chilly morning for the end of April, but I wore shorts because I was taking this as seriously as if it was the actual planned event.  I was happy to blast off as quickly as possible, if only to warm up.  The first mile through the pleasant suburban neighborhood was flat and then downhill, which led me to a 5:56 - my first sub-six mile in more than five months (the first mile of the Purple Stride 5K in November).

That was not going to last and I knew it.  Things leveled off alongside some woods and the Boonton Reservoir, but what goes down must come up again, so I had to go uphill in the second mile, resulting in a 6:28.  A 36-second slowdown is a huge swing, and I was determined to pick up the pace.  

The third mile included two turnarounds, which always tend to kill momentum, and I needed all the momentum I could muster since I was rapidly running out of steam.  By the time I was on the home stretch, I was hurting.  I pushed as hard as I could, but my aging body has been on a noticeable decline, no matter how hard I train.  My legs cannot churn as quickly, my heart cannot pump as strongly, and my lungs cannot process oxygen as efficiently.  

Still, I managed to (painfully) pull out a 6:12 for the third mile and hit the finish with a 19:21, exactly one second faster than I did a few weeks prior when I did the Verona Labor Day 5K course as my own personal race.

So this is it.  This is 2020: Racing by myself, with only two competitors - the clock and the effects of aging.  Awards and medals aside, that is what it has always been about anyway.  I guess not much has changed after all.  See you later in the month for my next 10K, then.

My Own Personal 5K #3 - April 5, 2020 - Verona, NJ

These are weird times.  Everything you normally do, the way you do it, has to change in some way.  But I would be damned if I was not going to run the post-marathon 5K as scheduled.  I would have to improvise, but I would do it.

As part of my recovery from the two marathons, I had planned to run the St. Cassian 5K in Montclair and Bloomfield - at Brookdale Park, site of my first 5K ever, back in 2006 - scheduled for April 5.  Then the coronavirus started to spread.  By the third week of March, I was working from home.  Shortly after, events started getting canceled.  

OK, no problem.  I am a disciplined guy.  If they cancel the race, my backup plan will be to get the course map from the website, show up at the park later in the day, and run the damn race myself.

Sure enough, by the end of March, the race was canceled.  Then, at the beginning of April, Gov. Murphy shut down all state and county parks, of which Brookdale is the latter.  I drove to the park in hopes that maybe the shutdown was only to stop people from driving to the park and congregating in groups.  However, there was yellow "caution" tape at every entrance, so I drove to neighboring Verona, where I had run the Labor Day 5K in 2011.

The course starts on Lakeside Drive, flat for the first half-mile, until a turn onto Hillside sends you uphill.  At 45 years old, I am now feeling the effects of aging after more than a decade of hard running.  Nine years ago, I bounded up that hill and made the next turn onto Forest to hit the first mile marker in under six minutes.  Not so this time, with a 6:22.  By the time I got to the turnaround on Forest, not even at the halfway point, I was already feeling winded and running out of gas.  But at least I got to go down that hill, which helped me get a 6:13 in the second mile.

Back onto Lakeside, I pushed as hard as I could, turning onto Bloomfield Avenue and then into Verona Park (which, as a municipal park, was open).  There were people strolling while wearing masks and cops present to - I assume - ensure that people did not get together in groups.  And then there was me, loudly grunting and huffing and puffing my way into my imaginary finish line.

I managed to hit mile three with a 6:09, finishing near the boat house with a final time of 19:22.  Looking at my times now, I am happy to see that I negative split every mile.  But at that moment, all I could think of, while gasping for breath and jogging a couple of miles to shake it off and cool down, was how nine years ago I did that course in 18:33.  I thought about how only four years ago, I triumphantly ran sub-18-minute 5Ks at two consecutive races.  And now, it is a struggle to even hit the low 19s.  

This is the day that, I imagine, every runner dreads - the day that you realize that not only are your PRs permanently in the rearview mirror, but you are never even going to come close.  I have reverted back to my run times from a decade ago.  And eventually, I will end up with results that are slower than even that first 5K in Brookdale Park, as a 31-year-old.  

I asked a running colleague who recently turned 60 how he coped with it.  He told me two things - first, to start looking more at the "age-graded" scores on result lists because it gives you an idea of how you did for your age; and, more importantly, he told me to keep putting in the same effort.  The result does not matter as much as long as you know you are giving it all you have, just like you did when you were running PRs.  

Sound advice, regardless of whether there are actual races to run.

Purple Stride 5K - Nov. 10, 2019

So, yes, after four relatively disappointing 5Ks, I immediately started training for a December 10K using Hal Higdon's Advanced 10K training program.

And, wow, it is a killer program.  With Tuesday tempo runs (up to 60 minutes), Wednesday 400-meter track sprints (up to 12), Saturday runs partially at race pace, and Sunday runs in which the last 25 percent of the miles are done near race pace, we are essentially talking about four days of speed training per week.  That leaves Monday and Thursday for easy runs and an optional (!) rest day on Friday.

As per usual with Higdon's programs, races are included midway through training.  This past Sunday, being halfway through the eight-week cycle, it was time for yet another 5K.  It just so happened that this fell on the day of the annual Purple Stride 5K in Parsippany, a benefit for the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network.  In support of our friend, whose mom died from the disease, Gloria and I and our friends jogged it in 2016 and walked it in 2017.  Last year, I raced it competitively while training for the Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon, taking third place with a time of 18:11, my last sub-19 5K.

At the start line on Sunday, some guy said to his kid, referring to me, "Just stay behind this guy and draft him if you can.  He looks fast."

That made me feel good, but I wondered if I would live up to his expectations after my past four outings.  At the sound of the horn, I blasted off, legs in full extension, pumping as hard as I could to get off to a good start, and to warm the hell up on this 30-something degree day while wearing only shorts and a single long-sleeve polyester running shirt.  For the first mile in this flat course through what is essentially a giant park of office buildings, a young runner in a cape took the lead and I stayed elbow to elbow with Justin Tufano (literally - he actually kept bumping elbows with me - even as we approached the left-hand turnaround, he kept drifting and pushing me to the right).

I hit the first mile 5:52 and it felt great.  I did not even feel like I was pushing hard enough to get a split like that.  Both Mr. Tufano and I pushed ahead of the caped runner and pressed on into mile 2.  I pulled away from Tufano and briefly held the lead until I heard footsteps coming up behind.  I was surprised to see the person passing me was not Tufano but someone else - an 18-year-old kid named Sam Fowler - and he was doing it effortlessly.  There was no catching up to him, and I was already slowing down, but I was OK with my 6:09 second mile.

Turning around again (those turnarounds are such momentum killers!), I gave it everything I had, with Tufano right behind me.  I only managed to stay in front of him by three seconds, but it was enough as I threw my body forward into the third mile with a 6:04 and a finish time of 18:50.

Unbelievably, I had managed to get my first sub-19 in a year, at the same race as my last one.  It was a pleasant surprise, and just what I needed to fend off the sometimes depressing sight of my drastically lower 5Ks lately.  This was a nice boost.  I may not be close to what I was a year or two ago, but at this point, I will take any sub-19 I can get.

Last year's event was fraught with problems, notably the course being too short.  In addition, the timing company, Best Race, screwed me over with the results, putting me at fourth place, rather than at my rightful third (they never fixed it on their website).  This time, though the course was re-measured to accuracy, Best Race once again managed to screw me over by spelling my name wrong - check out the results and you see that Daniel Falioto took second place at the 2019 Purple Stride 5K in Parsippany. [eye roll] 

But hey, it was a good cause with good friends and my best 5K of the year.

Run Little Falls 5K - Oct. 6, 2019

During the eight years that I  lived in the Township of Little Falls, N.J., I ran the Passaic Valley Rotary River Run 5K six times.  I got a few PRs at that autumn race, as my short game improved year after year, culminating in my peak in 2016. I moved out of the town that year, and at some point since then, that race ceased to exist.  

To my delight, I found out that a new race - Run Little Falls - was debuting this fall in Little Falls and it would coincide perfectly with my current 5K training cycle.  

Though training had not exactly gone well - days of fatigue and lots of pain in my legs, especially my left hamstring - I was excited to go back to my old hometown and race on the streets I had come to know so well. 

With fewer than 200 participants, it was not a big race, but a nice turnout for a brand new event.  Even more impressive was that it seemed like the town's residents were really behind it.  Looking at the results sheet, one might guess that half of the participants were from Little Falls.  Even the mayor ran it.  

Funny side note about that: the T-shirts that all the participants received read, "I'm not the mayor, but I Run Little Falls."  That is, all the participants except one - Mayor Damiano's read, "I AM the mayor, and I Run Little Falls"!

The race started on the track of Passaic Valley High School - the very track on which I did years of interval training - and the course led us onto Main Street, Cedar Grove Road and Wilmore Road for the first mile, which I ran in 6:09.  Already I could see that there had been no improvement since Surftown, but like that race a month ago, the competition was quite soft and I was in third place, and closing in on second.

Turning onto Prospect Street and up the course's one hill, I pulled into second and stayed there for the remainder of the race.  The leader, 22-year-old Sean Lang was long gone.  Maybe a few years ago, I could have kept up with his 5:42 pace, but no longer.  As I crested the hill and did the quick turns on Stevens Avenue, Walnut Street and Union Avenue before getting back onto Main Street, I tried to maintain the pace I had established and came close with a 6:12. 

The downhill came halfway through the third mile, so I pushed into it with all my might, opening up my stride and much as it would go.  My legs were hurting again, and I thought my left hamstring was going to seize up, as it had been doing all year when put under great stress.  I squeaked out a 6:00 for that last mile.

Those times, of course, are from my Garmin, which always seems to cause some discrepancies.  I gave it everything I had getting onto the track at the high school again and finished with a 19:10, which would mean that the last tenth of a mile took 49 seconds.  That is absurd, though, because it would equate to an 8:10 pace.  Sure, I may have slowed down in my fatigue, but not that much, especially not at the end of a 5K.

So, once again, either my Garmin is calculating miles too short, or the course was too long.  But either way, I do not really care.  I trained for a race and I ran the race.  I put my best effort into it and came out of it with another worthwhile experience...and a $20 gift certificate to Dick's Sporting Goods for winning my age group.  Not bad for a morning out in the old town.

Surftown 5K - Westerly, R.I. - Sept. 8, 2019

After my less-than-spectacular return to the 5K last month, I was determined to get back into a heavy-duty training program for the next eight weeks, which would culminate in the Run Little Falls 5K in my old hometown.  So I returned to Hal Higdon’s Advanced 5K program for the first time in seven years in hopes that I could at least knock a minute or so off of my time from the Dover race.

As is typical with the Hal Higdon programs, a practice race is prescribed halfway through the training.  It is a good way to gauge how well things are going, and it provides a much-appreciated extra rest day, the day before the race. 

My midway 5K came on Sept. 8, the first day of my weeklong wedding anniversary vacation to Block Island, so Gloria and I found a race at Misquamicut Beach in Westerly, R.I., just over the border from Connecticut (and one town west of Weekapaug, a little town forever memorialized in song by Phish).  The Surftown Half Marathon & 5K, hosted by the Hartford Marathon Foundation, is actually more the former than the latter, with about a thousand participants running the 13.1 and some stiff competition in the lead pack (everyone in the top 10 did a sub-6 pace!); and about half that doing the 5K, with a very soft field (spoiler - nobody did a sub-6 pace!).

I have been doing speed training for eight weeks now, so I figured my muscles would remember how to go fast and stay fast for at least a little while – certainly this race would be an improvement over the last one, right?

Reluctantly, I planted myself toward the front of the pack at the start line and pushed off hard at the go signal.  I knew that at least the first mile, west along Atlantic Avenue and parallel to the beach, was going to be flat, so I threw myself into it, surprisingly breaking into the lead for the first few tenths of a mile.  Shortly thereafter, though, 26-year-old Caitlin Abelseth pulled ahead of me and stayed in the front for the rest of the race, eventually winning with a well-run, but relatively slow 18:47 (I have run races where I barely won my age group, let alone the whole megillah, with a time like that).  Her movement was swift, her pace consistent and her form impeccable.  I bet she is capable of much more than that 6:02 pace.  It seemed effortless for her. 

Firmly in second place, I turned right onto Maplewood Avenue and hit the first mile marker with a 6:04.  Already, though, I could tell this was not going to go as well as I had hoped.  A left onto Bayberry Road brought us to another left onto Ocean View Highway and only a small incline before the turnaround.  My second mile was not any better, with a 6:11.  And I was already out of gas.  What has happened to me?

At that point, my head was swirling with thoughts like, “It’s really over – my best racing days are behind me.  What’s the point anymore?  Why am I doing this?  I’m going to be 45 soon and now my age is finally catching up to me.”

My age was not the only thing catching up to me – 15-year-old Ryan Reed, an obvious track kid, was behind me the whole race, but dug into his reserves and passed me on the final stretch along Atlantic Avenue.  I, however, had no reserves.  I felt heavy and leaden; my legs felt like rubber; and I wanted it to be over.  I pushed as hard as I could, looking for anything – any burst of energy or extra gear or hidden strength to surge to the finish line.  But there was no surge to be had.  My third mile was a 6:13. 

A race that I would have won handily a year ago ended up being my slowest 5K in four years (when I came back from a six-month hiatus from an injury).  Instead of improving upon my Dover result, I blew it and ran a 19:18 - my second worst race of the last 10 years or so.

It was frustrating and heartbreaking (as well as tiring and painful).  And yet, there was my wonderful wife, Gloria, putting it all into perspective for me – reminding me that I had managed to come in third place overall; that the people that beat me were decades younger than I; and that this race was only part of my training, and not the finished product of my training regimen.  Most of all, while I was busy being hard on myself, she was proud of me for another race accomplishment.

So, there you have it.  I gave it my all.  My all is not what it was a year ago and will probably be even less than that a year from now.  And yet, I should be proud? 

Damn right, I should.  And I will be proud three weeks from now in Little Falls, knowing that, once again, I will bring my best game, whatever it may be, as a 45-year-old guy that has nothing left to prove.

Dover Renaissance 5K

At some point, it had to get done, and the longer I waited, the harder it would be.

I had not run a short race all year, so on the morning of Aug. 10 when I showed up in downtown Dover, I was nervous.  My friend, Gavin, later that afternoon, asked why I would be so nervous.  I was no stranger to 5Ks, plus I had been doing marathons, so three miles should be nothing.

Oh, if it were only that simple.  

I explained to him that the goal of short races is not to run it and finish, but to run fast.  And even though I had done dozens of them before, every race is different and each one comes with its own set of expectations.

For this race, the expectations were low, no question, but it was important to find out if I still had even a little shred of the speed and endurance I exhibited three years ago when I nailed my huge 17:38 PR.  At the go signal, I burst onto West Blackwell Street for a flat straightaway that lasted almost the entire first mile.  The cool morning air was already being burned off by the sun, which had come out and started blazing just before the start of the race.

The turn onto Salem Street sent us onto a bridge over railroad tracks, the course's only hill.  It was steep enough to cause some folks to slow down and it put me right back into the mindset of the old days (when I actually did hill training) - make the move and pass people on the hill.  I did so and, on the other side of the bridge, I hit the first mile mark with a 5:49 - my fastest mile since December!

But despite the flat terrain of Orem and Watson drives, Harrison and Wilson streets and Harding Avenue in the second mile, there was no keeping it up.  A 6:12 second mile was all I could muster.  

I was, however, in fifth place and closing in on the two guys ahead of me who were running side by side.  A big push in the final mile could get me third!

After powering up the hill again, I managed to get next to them on the straightaway back along West Blackwell Street even pulling ahead for a brief moment before falling back again.  

As I did so, the guy to my right - Matthew Rorigue - turned his head and let out a bunch of spit.  Come on, man.  Moments later, he did it again, showering my lower legs with his saliva.  What a jerk.  Barely able to breathe, let alone speak, I blurted, "Stop spitting on me!"

"Sorry," he said, but that is nonsense.  He saw me right next to him.  He had to know I was there.  What an inconsiderate jerk.

I was not next to him for much longer anyway because I was fading fast.  My third mile was a 6:13.  Matthew and the other guy, Patrick Neighbour (who squeaked past Matthew with a fraction of a second difference) went ahead and I rounding the corner into the finish line with a 19:03. (See the full results)

OK, so here are the cold, hard facts: The only other times in the past decade that I ran a 5K that took longer than 19 minutes were the windy 19-degree day in January 2018 and my first race after being sidelined for six months from back pain in June of 2015.  Despite being almost 45 years old and having run four marathons within seven months, that data hung over me pretty heavily.

But, thankfully, I had my wonderful wife, Gloria, right there on the sideline, pep talking me at the beginning, cheering me in to the end and reminding me afterward of all the things for which I should be proud (not the least of which being fifth place overall and tops in my age group!).  

She was right, of course - I should be proud.  I shook off the rust, ran the best race I could and, most importantly, got my feet back in the game for more short racing.  I am going to train hard for the next eight weeks and see what I can muster up for an October 5K.  Whatever happens, I know I continue to have my heart in my soles and to run like an antelope.

Post-marathon to 5K

Four marathons in seven months.

I have been running races for 13 years and this is the first time I have done that.  With the exception of the first of the four, they were not my best (or my worst, though), but it is still an achievement
of which I am incredibly proud.

There is, however, one huge downside to spending seven months simply logging miles - speed gets lost.  

So after one recovery week following the Mad Marathon, I made it my business to start getting back to the grind of speed training.  That meant returning to Hal Higdon's four-week Advanced Post-Marathon program, which re-introduces speed work into training with weekend tempo runs and mid-week mile intervals. 

I couched the mid-week mile intervals within seven-mile runs, taking the first, third, fifth and seventh miles slowly; and doing the second, fourth and sixth at as fast a pace I could muster.  The goal was to increase the speed of those fast miles each week.  The first week was encouraging as I was off to a good start with fast miles averaging 6:17.  But the second week saw no improvement.  Thankfully, in the third week I ran my first sub-6 mile of the year, but even then, the second two took such a sharp downward turn that my average ended up at 6:09.

During the previous few years, I was doing so much speed work that I could regularly pump out sub-6s.  Now, a little older, a bit more banged up, and a lot more out of practice, I could barely squeak out a 5:59.  In my defense, this was all happening in the blazing heat of the summer.  Trying to do tempo runs and long runs in 90-degree heat can wipe you out.  Yes, I ran 13 miles, up and over huge hills in Boonton, N.J., on the day it was 95 degrees and sunny.

The 5K I selected (with much help from Gloria) for the culmination of the training program was the 21st annual Dover Renaissance Run in Dover, N.J., on Aug. 10.  Luckily, it was the first relatively cool weekend in a while.  I was not going into it expecting much, but with a temperature in the mid-60s and low humidity, I was ready to give it all I had.  

Because that is what you do at the short races - you do not just run three miles.  You lay it all out there.

Louisiana 5K

Because I was planning on doing a three-mile Saturday warm-up anyway - and it still qualified me to get the giant Beach to Bayou medal, and Gloria was running it, too - I registered for the Louisiana 5K taking place on Jan. 19, the day before the marathon.

In addition, it would serve as a good test of how my legs would hold up. I slathered on more of that Real Time gel and hoped for the best. The forecast called for rain all morning, but as Gloria and I drove from our hotel, about five miles from downtown Baton Rouge, it was still dry, though very windy.

Upon arrival at the parking garage near the start line, some folks informed us that, due to impending extreme weather conditions (wind, rain and lightning), the race was canceled.

As is now part of the Phish-fan lingo, we had been Curveballed.

After the initial disappointment, we began to wonder - what about that Beach to Bayou medal? I was planning to run the marathon the next day, but this was Gloria's only race this weekend. She came all this way and now she cannot get her award?

Though she was ready to, as she said, "get all Jersey on them," it turned out that these lovely folks were way ahead of us, extending their Southern hospitality to all who came to collect both the 5K race medal and Beach to Bayou medal. 

Not satisfied to collect medals without running, we decided to run the 5K anyway. And we were not alone. We got out on the course, ran an earnest 3.1 miles and felt justified for taking our hardware. As soon as we finished, at around 8 a.m., when the race had been scheduled to start, the skies opened up and the deluge of rain began. Streets quickly flooded, lightning flashed across the sky, and the wind gusted heavily. They had definitely made the right call.

Gloria displays her huge Beach to Bayou bling, along with her Mississippi Half Marathon and Louisiana 5K hardware

As for my hamstrings, running at Gloria's 10+ minute pace made it easy to get through (despite the fact that the slower gait is hell on my back, for some reason), and my legs held up OK. There was a nagging ache and a little pain, but I felt like I was in good enough condition to at least get through the marathon on Sunday.

Four hours might not be in the cards, I thought, but I'll get through it. At that point, it would have to do.

Trinity Academy 5K Reindeer Run

After running the Trinity Academy 5K Reindeer Run in 2013 and 2014, it was nice to return to this well-organized, friendly and fun race.

And as was the case for the races I ran in the past couple of weeks, the emphasis would be on fun.  But that does not mean I would not work hard, too.  Each of these three 5Ks were replacements for the weekly speed work, prescribed by Hal Higdon in his Advanced 1 training program.

Not only that, but I was happy to participate in this race for the first time as a married man and was thrilled that my wife would be running it, too.  When we got to the site, I remembered how the course involved a loooooong incline through the first two miles, followed by a steady decline for the last one, so I relayed that information to Gloria and we talked about tactics for handling it. The mission was to go hard...but not too hard at first.

I placed myself near the front of the pack and, at go time, darted out on the brief downhill, quickly taking my place in fourth.  But no sooner were we a quarter mile through, we turned onto Smull Avenue and began the long climb.  Pushing with a big effort, but making sure not to spend all of it too soon, I hit the first mile at 5:54.

Determined to stay in that sweet spot, I tried to give it some more oomph, but my body was not having it.  On the plus side, I was closing in on the third place runner.  So even though my second mile was a dramatically slower 6:08, I did what I have always done best - made my passing move on the uphill.  The guy was clearly gassed from the constant uphill and there was no way he was going to come back from it.

Now in third place and cresting the hill, I started laying it all out there - increasing both the rate of leg turnover and the length of my stride.  From out of nowhere, the guy that had been in fifth place bolted past me on the downhill and I found myself in fourth again, with no chance of catching him.  Admittedly, I held back a little bit because I am still in marathon training and did not want some of the aches and small strains in my groin, hamstring and Achilles tendon to be become problematic.  Nonetheless, my third mile was a swift 5:32.

Barreling into the final hard 90-degree turn into the Trinity Academy parking lot for the finish, I finished with 18:18 on the clock, even though my official end time was listed as 18:20.  Not sure how that can happen, but who cares. And even though the man who blew past me to take third was in my age group, his placement in the top three made him ineligible for an age group award, putting me at the top of the males age 40 to 44.  That means I won another warm winter hat with the race's reindeer logo. That makes three for my collection.  

A 5:54 pace not only made for my fastest of the three times I have run the Trinity Academy 5K Reindeer Run, but also a triumphant conclusion to a streak of three 5Ks in as many weeks, in which I have liberated myself from the need to run PRs and simply running the best races that I can.  As a result, I would say that fall racing season has been a success.

Full results: http://www.compuscore.com/cs2018/novdec/reindeer.htm

Morris Township Turkey Trot 5K

Doing the Purple Stride 5K on Nov. 11 made me feel better about doing short races while training for a marathon.  Substituting a 5K for my usual weekly speed work makes sense and helps keep things fun.

Yes, fun.  Something my mom always texts to me whenever I am stressed out and nervous about an upcoming race is "Remember, this is supposed to be FUN," a reminder that while I am focused on being competitive and fast and pushing my body to its limits, fun should not always be put on the back burner.

In addition, doing a spur-of-the-moment 5K - this time, the Morris Township Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving Day - takes the pressure off.  Instead of always trying to get a PR, it is possible to simply show up to a race and do the best that I can. With that weight off of my shoulders, there was no need to get thrown by the freakishly cold 17 degree temperature and the chilly 13 mph winds.  I just had to run my best race for that day.

The first mile was mostly flat, and in my effort to chase warmth, I knocked it out in 5:49.  But then there was Kitchell Road.

With an incline of about 150 feet in the span of around a third of a mile, Kitchell Road is an exercise in hill training and enough to put a huge damper on the race of all mere mortals.  Superhumans like the winner, William Mitchell, somehow destroyed the course in 16:13 (a 5:14 pace).  I, on the other hand, took 6:09 to get through the second mile, thanks to that killer hill.  So by the time I made it on to Spring Valley Road and then South Street to the finish, my turkey was cooked and my energy gobbled up, as I hit the third mile with a 6:02.

All things considered, averaging a 6:00 pace on a difficult course on what was pretty much the coldest Thanksgiving ever - in a race for which I did not even specifically train - felt darn good.  Coming in 17th place (out of 1,459 overall and 717 males), second of 306 masters (age 40 and up) and first in my age group of males age 40 to 44 was icing on the cake (gravy on the turkey?).

The mettle to meddle for a medal (Part IV)

I understand that when a race-timing company is charged with giving accurate results to thousands of runners at hundreds of races, errors are bound to happen from time to time.  But, seriously, this shit seems to keep happening to me.  Three times in the past, I had been completely looked over. On all those occasions, I had come in second place (SOCH 10K, Cheshire Home 5K and Samra 5K), but forgotten when they distributed awards, as if I was never there.

At the Purple Stride 5K on Nov. 11, I was excited to accept my third place medal among my friends.  They called out the top three winners and I was not one of them.

Confused, I checked the posted results sheet.  I was listed as being in fifth place, but with the fourth place name crossed out.  At first, I wondered if people had cheated, slipping into the race chute without having run it.  Then, I started wondering if I had it wrong.  Maybe there was another guy in front of me and I was concentrating so hard that I did not see him.

It was my long run day and I needed to run more miles, so I ran home from the race site.  During the whole run, I was playing it over and over in my head, wondering what had happened.  At some point, I started getting mad, composing in my head the strongly-worded email I was about to write to the race organizers and the timing company.  I looked at my splits when I got home and noticed that as I got more angry, my miles got faster.  I guess running angry makes you run quickly.

At home, I asked my wife, Gloria, who had been standing at the finish line the whole time, what she saw.  She said she only saw the first place winner (Andrew Ferretti), the second place finisher (Charles Griffin) and then me.  No one else in between.

The next day, I wrote the email to the Purple Stride organizer, Alex Rappoport, and the Best Race timing company (Bill@BestRace.com).  I explained the situation and even showed a screen shot of the extremely messy results page that was posted (that showed me as the 254th finisher and people finishing the race in a few seconds - clearly, their chips were registering results when crossing the start line, rather than the finish).

The next day, the results were revised online, but were (and are, as of this writing) still incorrect, showing me in fourth, with someone named Brian Cannona in second.  I do not know who this person is, but I searched the internet for any other race results with his name, and there were none.  One would think that someone in his 20s that can do a 5K at a pace of around 5:30 would have done other races.  But there is no such record.

So, I emailed Alex and Bill again and told them all of this.  

Alex wrote back to me, saying that they had looked into the problem, admitting that there was an error and agreeing that I was, indeed, the third place finisher.  My third place medal was promptly mailed to me and I received it a couple of days later.  That is someone who, despite merely being in the business of putting together a fundraising event, understands fairness and the importance of what we do in this sport.

Interestingly, Bill from Best Race was silent.  He never admitted to his company's mistake.  He never corrected the results online.  He never apologized to me for the error.  He never said a word.  That is someone who, despite being in charge of a company whose specific job is understand fairness and the importance of what we do in this sport, does not.  

In the end, though Alex made me feel better about the idea of participating in another Purple Stride event; Bill will make me think twice about running a race timed by Best Race.

Purple Stride 5K

On Nov. 11, I took a slight detour from my marathon training to support the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network (or more specifically, my friend, Alana, who has a family member that suffered from the illness) at the Purple Stride 5K in my hometown of Parsippany, N.J.

The race was an out-and-back set in a corporate park area (Sylvan Way) on flat roadways with minimal turns. It was refreshing to run a race with no logistical worries.

It was also refreshing to run a 5K for the heck of it, instead of specifically training for it, gunning for a PR and putting pressure on myself to lay it all out there. Instead, I used it as my my speed training for the week - a hard effort, but not one that had any of the stress of hitting a specific goal.

It was a chilly morning in the 30s (F) and most of the guys at the front of the starting line (including me) were in shorts, so we were not too pleased that the race was a half-hour late in commencing. I understand that there are speeches to be made about the cause and all, but if they advertise a start time, they should adhere to it.

When it was finally underway, I quickly passed a bunch of guys whom I had assumed would easily stay ahead of me.  Within the first half-mile, I took my place in third.  The front runner, Andrew Ferretti, was extremely fast and far ahead, but Charles Griffin was close enough that passing him seemed possible.

I hit the first mile at 5:41, though I didn't know it at the time because I refused to look at my splits. I wanted to run as fast as I could without the possible disappointment of being slower than usual or the possible shock of running too fast.

By the time I got to the turnaround point at the halfway mark, I was losing some steam but still pushing hard and getting results, marking my second mile with a 5:51 (again, unbeknownst to me at the time). Now it was just a matter of getting through the last mile and finishing strong.

For a moment, I thought once again that I could close in on Charles, but that moment did not last long because I was fading.  Seeing my friends that were walking the course was a nice boost, but I was ready for this race to end soon.

It turned out that it would end too soon. With the finish line in sight, I finally looked at my GPS watch and saw that I had only gone 2.8 miles. The course was short.

Ah, well. I pushed hard into the finish in with a time on the clock of 16 and change, but more importantly, in this case, in third place.

My final pace was 5:51, which means my third mile would have been 6:01. Good thing this was not a longer race - losing 10 seconds per mile is rough.  Doing some math, I extrapolated that my finish time would have been around 18:11 - not bad for a race for which I did not formally train. 

PCTI Winter 5K Series, Race 4 (Finale) - March 4, 2018

The truth of the matter is this: speed training works. 

Even now, at a point when I am on the downswing and dealing with the reality that there will be no more PRs, doing the speed work still yields results. 

Case in point: This fourth and final race of the PCTI series ended up being my best of the bunch, likely because I have been hammering out 400s, 200s, tempo runs and 5Ks for the past three months.

While I was immediately ready for it to be over as soon as this fourth installment started, I felt good about keeping my leg turnover consistent after the initial downhill. Even the first big uphill did not feel like it took the wind out my sails the way it had in the previous races, so I was able to cruise into the first mile at 5:50, as I pushed from fifth to fourth place, passing Walter Hass (who quietly exclaimed, "Shit!" as I did so.  Sorry young Walter, the old guy passed you again.).

The steady incline before the second big descent slowed me down, but the downhill gave me a boost. The grunting and moaning started just before I hit the second mile marker at a 5:58, finally passing Anthony Bertollo and reclaiming my third place position once again. 

I was more than ready for this nonsense to end, yet somehow, my legs managed to push up the last big hill. I knew I needed to gut it out for only five more minutes. It hurt, but it was almost over. 

Digging into any reserve I could tap and extending my legs as much as possible, I hit mile three with an even 6:00, and mustered the best sprint I could. I finally hit the finish with an 18:53 (which would have been 18:27 if the course was not too long at 3.17 miles). 

At this point, I will take any race with a sub-6 average pace, so in addition to the beautiful trophy I took home for winning my age group, I consider this a personal win for my first and last 5K series.

"Never again," I told Rob Albano, the perennial and inevitable winner of this (and every) race.  He told me he said the same thing after his first series. 

We runners are gluttons for punishment, so I guess might, against my better judgment, end up doing this again next year.

My own personal 5K #2 - Feb. 18, 2018

Arrrrrrrrgh!

The email came on Saturday, before the snow even fell, that the fourth and final race of the Passaic County Technical Institute 5K series had been postponed until March 11.

Not only was I looking forward to getting the damn thing over with and never committing to a race series again, but the new date clashed with my own personal schedule.  This would mean that, in the end, I will have spent $100 on three small races on a difficult course that was incorrectly measured and I will have little to show for it because I will miss the finale.

Never one to waste valuable training, I did my own personal 5K again on Sunday, just as I had last month when the bitter cold shut down my intended post-marathon 5K.

Perhaps I can blame it on the strong wind or the steadily inclining point-to-point course I laid out, but it ended up being relatively bad anyway.  And it is probably my own fault for being way too inside my head, with my heart never really into it, no matter how much I convinced myself I was pushing with all my might.

The first mile had the biggest hill, so I surprised myself with a 5:56.  I thought I was keeping my leg turnover consistent, so the 6:11 of the second mile was a bit upsetting.  With only one more mile to go along the steady incline of River Road in Parsippany, I could not seem to pick up the momentum at all, as I hit mile three with another 6:11, finishing out the 3.1-mile course with 18:57 as my final time.  Not exactly the kind of result for which I was training.

On the other hand, perhaps my mind was not really in the game because I am simultaneously training for a March half-marathon, so this "race" was actually the first three miles of a 15-mile long run; and the last thing I wanted was to be burned out with 12 more miles to go.  I managed to do those next 12 miles at a pace in the mid-7s, which bodes well for my long game.


And then...

Aaaarrrrrrrrrrghhhh!!!!

Just when I had made my peace with my freedom from the race series, another email came Monday  morning - the race was re-re-scheduled for March 4.  A date on which I am completely available.  Which means this thing is not over yet...and I have to do two more weeks of speed training. 

My whole lower half hurts thinking about it.

PCTI Winter 5K Series, Race 3 - Feb. 3, 2018

Keeping race-winner Rob Albano's "tactical" description in mind, I had to be sure not to overdo it with the speed work. But repeating the last two weeks of Hal Higdon's Advance 5K training program, in the time between each of the four races in the PCTI winter series meant a day of eight 400-meter repeats, two tempo runs (45 minutes and 30 minutes) and quick six 200-meter repeats.

Of course, "overdoing it" is relative.  My 400s have been good, averaging in the low 1:20s; and my 200s have been OK, averaging around 40 seconds. No matter how hard I pushed on my tempo runs, though, I could barely get under a 6:00 pace, even for a few minutes.  That recurring and nagging problem with my glutes and piriformis kept me from really opening up.  My glutes are still in a constant state of soreness and a new pain in the back of my leg (my hamstring, probably) has been another source of recurring grief.

Since there was only one week between races #2 and #3, I was happy that it meant I had two taper weeks in a row (the 6x200 and the 30-minute tempo, plus two easy three-milers). 

My first mile in this third in the series was a mess mentally - Why am I out in front, with Rob Albano behind me? And damn, did I gain more weight (because I can feel my belly jiggling)?

I thought maybe Rob was messing with me, letting me taste the lead before nabbing it from me, but I later found out that he was taking it easy after having run a race the previous day.  Sheesh, and here I was complaining about having run a race last week.  And yes, I have gained five (or ten) pounds.

I was able to hang with Ryan Savercool until the first mile marker (5:50) before he broke away, with Rob passing me by to run alongside him. The gap continued to widen as they sped up and I slowed down. As with Race #1, pushing up that first hill took too much out of me, so by the time I hit the second mile (6:04 on my watch, but a little more on the too-long course), I was already grunting and gasping...and the gasping hurt because the air was so chilly.  

The long incline of Kattak Parkway seemed to suck whatever energy I had left, so the final steep descent into the last loop around the school was a relief, even though everything hurt and I simply could not get full extension from my legs. The rest of the third mile (6:05) was merely on fumes and my hard, mad dash to the finish line for the last two-tenths of a mile (still one tenth too long) took everything I had left. 

That allowed me to finish with an official time of 18:56 (third place again), though my real 5K time would have been closer to 18:26, coming in with a 5:59 pace.  I may be getting older and slower, but I am still sneaking in under a 6:00 pace.  Not only that, but everyone else in the top five each week has been younger than I (though Walter Hass was noticeably absent this week).

Unless something goes horribly wrong with me or unbelievably right with fourth placer Anthony Bertollo, I might have a lock on third place overall in this (admittedly very small) series.