Hill training sucks less on Block Island

After doing it to train for my previous five marathons, I still do not enjoy hill training. At all.

But I know that it is beneficial, so I continue to do it every third week, running up and down a 1/3- to 1/2-mile hill - two uphill sprints followed by one downhill sprint and repeating to total anywhere from three to seven sprints. It is crushing work.

Running up and down High Street on Block Island, though, made it a little better. In fact, the Hal Higdon Advanced training program called for six sprints (four up, two down) and I actually decided to do one extra up.

That is the power of vacation running. You will probably not see me doing that at home.

Getting lost on Block Island

For my nine-mile Monday run, I plotted out a course that sent me to the western edges of Block Island, beyond the roads and onto the dirt paths that lead to private residences and that side's beaches.

Google Maps showed dirt paths that connected some of these secluded homes, but when I got to that area via Dorry's Cove Road, I could not tell what was a path and what was a driveway. Each looked like the other, some looked like neither, most were actually both. I ran around, back and forth and in circles before giving up.

Backtracking east to the road, I ran north, but was determined to find if and how those backwoods dirt paths were connected, so I ran west again at the spot I was supposed to come out (Grace's Cove Road) and tried heading south. Finding the connectors this time, I ended up back on Dorry's Cove Road again, feeling triumphant that I found it but realizing I probably ran an extra three miles.

Having done so, did I take the most direct path back to the cottage? Hell, no! I am on vacation and I have all the time in the world to run. I hoofed it up the hills of Beacon Hill Road, Center Road and Mohegan Trail before cruising back to the cottage.

Without the specter of having to go to work afterward, midweek runs are truly a delight, even if you get lost.

Or rather, especially if you get lost.

Block Island long run

Saturday was the first day of a week-long vacation to my favorite vacation spot.

Block Island is lovely quaint isle that sits 12 miles of the coast of the Rhode Island mainland and the south fork of Long Island. It is actually a Rhode Island town (the smallest one) but, I believe, nautically closer to Montauk, L.I. Only accesible via boat (there are four ferry locations on the mainland) or small airplane, it is the essence of a "getaway".

It is tiny - a total of 10 square miles of land. So, how do you do a 17-mile run on 10-miles of land?

This description is for those who know and love this lovely island - the rest of you may need a map. Or just come visit sometime.

Starting on High Street near the town's one school (K-12!), I headed down the hill and into town near Old Harbor, then it was up along the skinny side of the island along Corn Neck Road, all the way to the end, near the North Light house where I turned around and came back down. A right turn along Beach Avenue and then toward New Harbor brought me to West Drive and West Side Road, all the way to the west side of the island. I hooked around Cooneymus Road to Old Town Road which brought me back to town and to my starting point. Bam, 17 miles.

Because Karen and I took the 3 p.m. ferry from Point Judith, we did not get settled into our rented cottage until 5, and it was after 6 when I started running.

Maybe it was the cool evening's ocean air; maybe it was my delight to be back on the island after more than a year; maybe I was happy to be on vacation; heck, maybe I just miscalculated, but I hit the stopwatch at the end and saw 1:59:02!

What? Could I have really done that long run, hills and all, at faster than marathon pace? Maybe so, maybe not. But I sure felt amazing afterward. That old runner's high was back. And it was only the beginning of vacation.

How NOT to train for a marathon

I seem to be stuck in 10K mode.

Even though I am following the Advanced marathon training program on HalHigdon.com, I have been uncontrollably approaching my runs as if I am still working on a 10K, blasting off with crazy speed in my weekday runs, leaving me with nothing left in the tank for the runs that really matter - the weekend long runs.  

For instance, last week's schedule called for two short, easy runs - a three-miler and a four-miler.  Instead of taking them easy - as a recovery from the previous day's hard runs and as "rest" in preparation for the next day's - I was plowing through them at near half-marathon pace for no other reason than that it felt good.

My mid-week eight miler was also supposed to be easygoing because the late-week eight-miler was to be at race pace. But I did both at faster than race pace.

I do not like hill training day, so my favorite way of tackling it is to face it head on with brute force.  I did my five sprints, pushing up and down that hill with all my might, and then did an extra one, just to test my own mettle.

It is no wonder that when I did my 16-miler on the weekend, it was a misery.  I was shuffling along at an 8:02 pace and could not get into a groove.  It was awful.  

I tried some restraint this week, and though I was able to hold back a little, it was not enough.  I may pay for that when I do 17 this weekend.

Going long again

Marathon training is underway. I was not yet sure what race to aim for, but I jumped into a training program anyway because after knocking out a 5K and 10K PR over the course of a few weeks, it was time to ditch the short game and start going long again.

My first choice was the Running With the Bears marathon, a tiny race in the mountains of northern California, n Aug. 17. Intimate vibe, gorgeous setting. Last year, only 38 people did the marathon, though 165 more did the accompanying 10K and half-marathon.

After the Boston tragedy, the idea of doing a larger marathon has become less appealing. Last month's New Jersey Marathon (understandably) added so many new security precautions it seemed to suck the fun right out. Pre-race time causes enough jitters as it is. Who needs the extra hassle?

But I dragged my feet and "Running with the Bears", capped at 300, sold out.

After a look through www.marathonguide.com, I found that the Park City Marathon in Utah is that same day. I am keeping that one on the schedule. Hopefully I will be able to get the guts to register and book a flight before that one gets sold out, too.

Apple Chase 10K, Pompton Plains

At some point after my third visit to the bathroom on the morning of May 4, I wondered if it was merely hubris - after running my two best 5Ks within two weeks of each other - that led me to this 10K race.  Maybe I had the guts, but did I have the real stuff to get that elusive 10K PR?

Usually, a few healthy digestive evacuations make me feel good on race morning, but this time it just felt like repeated nervous pooping.

On the relatively short drive to Pompton Plains, I could barely get myself psyched up, even after listening to Phish's "Party Time", which had always served me well on race day.

I do not know why I felt like I had so much riding on this.  Maybe it was the fact that I had not run a 10K in years or that my 39:19 PR has held for six years, despite repeated attempts to break it.

I arrived at Pequannock High School and felt much better after seeing the well-organized event. There was already a good vibe, with helpful volunteers and a guy with a megaphone broadcasting important information.

The start was across the street and I put myself near the front. I sussed out some of the faster runners and knew to stick behind them. Essentially, it was a big rectangular loop of a course - main road out, cross street over, other main road back, though with two short detours on side streets in the middle.

A 5K was simultaneously running a shorter loop, so for the first half mile it was impossible for me to tell where I was in the pack.  Then suddenly everyone in front of me, except for two young guys, turned off.

Wow, third place out of the gate.  There was a clock at the first mile and I hit it at 5:48.  Too fast!!  I set my goal at 6:17 - I was already heading off the rails.

But I could not slow down for fear of slowing too much, and since I did not have a stopwatch with me, I have no idea how I was doing when I saw the Mile 2 sign.

We met up with the 5K racers again and I was weaving my way through a sizable pack.  As a very fit, steadily fast guy passed me, I realized I was slowing down a lot.

But where were the Mile 3 and Mile 4 signs?  Into an out of the side streets, turning onto the crossroad, I waited for those signs to let me know it was the right time to start pushing.

They never came, but even if they had, there was no push in me.  I was conking out from a too-fast first half.  I probably ran a great 5K, but there was no replicating it.  When a guy who seemed too big to be passing me did just that, I figured I was toast.

But that did not stop me from giving it all I had.  I came to race hard and I was determined to leave it all out there on the flat streets of Pompton Plains on that mild May morning.

A Mile 5 sign appeared and I started kicking in everything I possibly could muster for the last mile and change. It hurt, and I wanted it to hurt.

The high school in sight, I summoned all the might I could, not knowing if I was even close to my goal.  I thought about how, if my first mile was 5:48, I already had a five-second per mile cushion.  Maybe I would shave a few seconds off that damned PR after all, despite slowing down so much in the middle.

Imagine my surprise when I saw a 37 on the clock and I hammered it home.  As I crossed the finish line I saw 38:14.  The official time they clocked me was 38:18, but I should not quibble over a few seconds when I smashed my PR by more than a minute!

Besides, I was in too much pain. Grunting and moaning as I jogged from the finish to the food tables, I passed a bunch of younger folks and, catching my breath, apologized for making such an enormous racket.

The food spread was excellent - I grabbed a bagel and went back to the finish line to cheer for the rest of the runners as they came through.

Though sizable for a small town race, the Apple Chase is well-run with a flat course (though not completely closed to traffic), great people, and a an excellent opportunity for a PR.

Oh, no apples though.  Their logo shows a guy running around an apple tree.  I saw no such thing in the suburbia of Pompton Plains, NJ.

Building Tomorrows 5K

Having edged out my three-year standing 5K PR on my first race of the season, it was time to push my luck and go for the elusive 10K.  For some reason, that distance has been the toughest for me and, despite repeated attempts, I have not been able to beat the 39:20 that I ran in 2007.

It was mid-April and I had a race in mind for May 4, so that would mean jumping into the middle of Hal Higdon's Advanced 10K training program.  And smack dab in the middle of that program was a 5K race.

Why not?  I had nothing to lose since I had already gotten my PR.  It would be a good time trial, two weeks after my record-busting 5K and two weeks until the 10K.

It just so happened that taking place on April 20 was the Building Tomorrows 5K in Brookdale Park, Bloomfield, N.J.  Holy moly, that was my first ever 5K race, back in 2006.  After coaching Alexis for her race, it felt natural to continue the nostalgia trip.  Seven years after running this race as a beginner with a 22:51, it was time for me to come "home" as the improved runner I had become.

It all felt so right, entering the park where, in the years since, I have done much of my interval work (the track there is beautiful and well kept) and passed through in my 13-mile runs.  This was now familiar territory for me - I knew every incline and decline of the park and would use it to my advantage.

For some reason, I thought the race went briefly outside the park in 2006, so it was surprising when we ended up running two loops.  I blasted out with the front-runners and decided to simply go for it.  Push, push, push, push.  Worst case scenario, I poop out.  No biggie.  Best case scenario, another great race.

First mile in the 5:40s.  Bam!  Up the long incline on the lovely tree-lined path at the edges of the park, passing a few guys.  Second mile -just over 12 minutes.  Bounding downhill, not holding back.   Pushing up that hill again with all my might, I vividly recalled the first time I did it, so long ago.  Smiling, hurting, pushing all the while.  

I could not believe my eyes at the finish line - 18:29.  I just ran my second best 5K, two weeks after running my best.  Who peaks like this at 38 years old?

Elated and unable to stop, I ran the loop again...and again.  And when I finally stopped, back at the finish line where there was plenty of food, drink, music and good vibes, I felt like I had closed the circle from my first 5K to my 26th.  I remembered feeling like I was finally really a runner at that very spot in April 2006.  And now, I am better than ever.