Author: Ken @konfedence

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Trust Nature • Cary Greenways Half Marathon, Cary, NC, USA

What better way to celebrate Earth Day than a beautiful run on a greenway?  How about adding in a bunch of incredible people to that backdrop?  That was why I knew I had to run the Cary Greenways Half Marathon this morning.  Today was a day to celebrate the natural beauty of our planet.  I wasn’t looking to run a PR today; instead I’d go for a leisurely run enjoying all that this rock we call Earth has to offer.  Earth Day should be spent outdoors, and ideally in good company.  This race was the perfect fit.

I’ve run plenty of races before with various different formats.  Almost all of them have a mass start, frequently split into corrals and waves depending on the size and location of the event.  This was the first time I’ve ever run a race with a rolling start.  This race is run on the local greenway paved trails, so a mass start would have been disastrous both to the greenway and to the runners who would have been tripping all over each other.  Since this was more of a “fun” race than a “fast” race, a rolling start made much more sense than a bunch of seeded waves.  This contributed to the relaxed, stress free environment of the event.  Yes, you were timed, and competing against other runners… but this type of start shifted the focus to you.  You start whenever you are ready during a two hour window.  Instead of judging yourself against the other runners around you, you only have yourself to directly compete against.  If its the distance which is your primary foe, this is perfect.  It’s you (and your friends that choose to start with you), the greenway and the clock.  If you prefer head to head competition and coming in first, this may not be the best choice for you.  On the other hand, if you are looking for a no judgement, stress free, and fun opportunity to push your limits… this is it.

I wasn’t looking for a PR today.  I wasn’t even planning on pushing too hard.  I just wanted a solid run, to enjoy the great outdoors and some good company.  Thats exactly what I got.  I arrived towards the beginning of the race, and got my start (alone) about a half hour after the first runners.  The course starts off from underneath the Kiwanis Shelter and zig zags a bit, then a short trek over mulch before joining with the main (and cleanly paved) multi use greenway trail.  Early on I encountered a handful of 5 and 10K runners on their way back home.  Mutual words of encouragement were exchanged as we all continued on our own races.  The greenways themselves were beautiful.  I’d seen this on previous visits to the Triangle area: So many beautiful places to run.  We started off running through Bond Park before crossing a major intersection and continuing alongside (but fully protected from) the main road for a bit.  Then more parks.  Other than a few short stretches parallel to the road, this was all selfie inspiring green.  Especially for a thirteen mile course within the actual town and not out in the middle of nowhere… this was beautiful!

And lets not forget that other critical ingredient: the people.  I love the running community, and was lucky enough today to meet another handful of incredible people.  From the new friends I made out on the course (as I opted midway to make it a social run as well as the healing run I’d originally counted on) to the volunteers who made it all work, there were plenty of great people in attendance.  With the rolling start, packet pickup was stress free.  Then there were volunteers all over the course making sure everyone went the right way at various intersections.  I almost did extra credit again, running right past the water stop that marked the half marathon turn around.  I figured the turn was around the water station, not right before it:  the volunteers quickly reined me in. They also worked stoplight magic… Despite several major live intersection crossings, I only had to stop once and then just for a few seconds.  It was a simple formula actually: they saw runners coming and pressed the walk button.  By the time runners reached the intersection, the traffic was stopped.  Amazing how simple the solutions to some of life’s “problems” can be sometimes.

Just over a hundred minutes later, another half was in the books.  Time to enjoy the grub, socialize and just bask in the warmth of the sun!  Beautiful weather, beautiful course, beautiful people.  Definitely a beautiful way to celebrate our beautiful planet.  This is the best medicine you can get.

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Impossible Is Nothing • THE Boston Marathon, Boston, MA, USA

Words are powerful. Yet they cannot even begin to describe this weekend. If you know anything about me, you know that my year is basically a countdown until the next Boston Marathon. My first experience with the event was during my freshman year at Boston College. I rolled out of bed in the morning and took the short trip from Newton Campus to Heartbreak Hill. There I cheered on runners as they passed. As each passed, I couldn’t help but think “That should be me”. It was both inspiring, and torture that it wasn’t me… yet! Already, the Boston Marathon had captured my heart and spirit. I had no idea just how much it would come to mean in the years to come. Call it Marathon Monday, Patriots Day, or the third Monday of April. Regardless of the words you choose, there is NOTHING like this. If you’ve participated by running, volunteering or cheering you know this. If you haven’t, you don’t know what you are missing! Come join the fun next year!

This day took on even more meaning just five years ago; the day long celebration cut short as two explosions shook Boyleston Street. As I stood there at that finish line, I swore I would not miss this race for anything. My psyche was shattered, but my body was spared. I swore I would always run for those who suffered even more than I that day. I’m a man of my word. After the psychological whirlwind that followed, I emerged stronger than ever and even more committed to Boston.

As this year has passed, my excitement grew. This was the five year anniversary of one of Boston’s darkest hours, and no doubt one of the most defining moments of my life. It was also the 122nd anniversary of the first Boston Marathon – a tradition like no other. Five years ago, we faced that momentary darkness and shattered it with boundless light. We will always continue to honor the memory of those we lost, and lend a helping hand to those who continue to suffer. We have, and always will, continued to celebrate the tradition that is THE Boston Marathon. We are Boston Strong, and always will be.

As soon as mid March arrived, I basically started stalking the weather. I’m not your typical runner. I’m not looking for the perfect PR weather here – I’m looking for the perfect weather to bring out the crowds. They are what makes this event so incredible. At first it looked decent. Early forecasts predicted moderate weather. Just cool enough to be good for running, and just warm enough to support strong crowds. Unfortunately that didn’t hold. As the day drew closer, the forecast got more and more dismal. When I went for a nice shakeout run around Jamaica Pond on Sunday, I got snowed on, and that was nothing compared to the storm that was just about to blow in. Yes, I grew up in the northeast and I’ve seen snow even later than this. But I’m a Floridian now… I’m no longer used to the cold.

This year, I was going to run with Boston Strong painted on my chest… I guess the weather decided to test just how ‘strong’ I was.

Sunday night, as is always the case, I couldn’t get to sleep early. No matter how prepared I think I am for the big day, I still can’t sleep the night before. The energy from the expo and marathon weekend has already taken hold. It’s time! Eventually I did get a little shut eye. I had set multiple alarms to make sure I was ready to go, but they were unnecessary. This is BOSTON! I was definitely ready! I woke two minutes before my first alarm and was ready for the best day of the year! I caught the bus to Back Bay, hopped on the commuter rail and was off to Hopkinton.

Now that I’d stepped outside, a little bit of dread kicked in. The weather was horrendous. I’d been telling myself it would be no worse than 2015 (which was quite a challenge itself), but this was something else. The thermostat was barely above freezing, the rain was coming down and was only forecast to get worse. And the winds were strong and basically would be blowing in our faces the whole race. Ouch. It didn’t matter, this was Boston. I had work to do.

Hopped off the train in Southborough, caught the bus to Hopkinton State Park, cleared security and took the next bus to the start area in Hopkinton. I still had a few hours before I’d be on my way. Normally the town center is like one giant block party, but the weather put a serious damper on that. By Boston standards it was a ghost town. By normal race standards there was still a solid crowd. I found my buddy Kevin at his Supahfans Streetwear booth and hung out with him for a bit. Hiding out under his tent with the cold rain pouring down and winds howling… yes, I questioned myself. Should I really do this?

Three scenarios played through my head: 1) I could back down and take the train back downtown 2) I could cover up and make the difficult journey just like all of the other runners or 3) I could be me – donning the paint and celebrating 26.2 miles of Boston’s spirit. I seriously entertained the first option, questioning whether my body could handle it. I knew my mind could. The second possibility was short lived. This wasn’t a race for me, certainly not in these conditions. Covering the distance meant nothing: Celebrating Boston meant everything. If I was gonna do it, it would be my way.

Well, when you are looking for it, life has a way of giving you exactly what you need. Between the temporary shelter from Supahfan Kevin, a good vibe from my new Italian friend Franzi, and words of wisdom from my coach Bryan Huberty: I got the push I needed. I would be true to myself. I would be true to the city I always call home, and I would honor the memory of those we lost. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t give it everything I had. Today I would prove just how Boston Strong I am. Go ahead and rain on this parade… the show will go on!

I stripped down to my skimpy red Fairfield Prep shorts. I’ve literally been running in those since high school, breaking them out once a year on Marathon Monday. It was brutally cold, and I was still sheltered under a tent. How crazy am I?! I took out the paint. First the gold. As I painted the cross on my face, I transformed. The doubt was cast out and replaced with pure confidence and fire. I would do this and I would do it my way. My love of Boston would stifle the cold; my inner fire would keep me warm. For Sean. For Krystle. For Lingzhi. For Martin. FOR BOSTON. This was our day. Nothing would take that away!

I took out the red paint, and filled in the remaining flesh on my face. My soul would be a furnace today, through the body it powers it would generate all the warmth I needed. I had waited all year for this. A quick spray of the water sealant, and the game face was on. It was time.

I caked the red as thick as I could over the rest of my body. I’d planned in advance: I had more red paint than I usually use. I piled it on. It was the only physical shield I’d have between myself and the elements. But the body is strong, and the heart and soul even more so.

The twist dispenser on my blue Mehron cream blend makeup malfunctioned: Boston Strong wouldn’t be pretty. But it would be! I dipped a finger in the paint and slowly painted “BOSTON STRONG” on my chest. With the broken paint stick and awful weather, I had to skip the same message on my back. It wasn’t the best paint job I’ve ever had, but it didn’t need to be. It got the point across.

25,000 runners poured across the start line. The elites were well over halfway home. I didn’t know it yet, but many of them had already dropped out. My run had yet to begin. But I was ready. Now, there was no doubt in my mind: Boston here I come! I patiently waited my turn, cheering on the runners as they passed. “See you in Boston!” I hear a few runners comment that they’ve seen me before. “You got this!” I yell back. I hear a “GO BC”, look over and see Doug Flutie. Go EAGLES! Fist bump and he’s off! Now it’s my turn.

At about 11:30am, dressed in tiny red shorts, Roo sport, two pairs of soaked through socks, my Brooks shoes, doubled up gloves, BC winter hat and a lot of body paint… I was off. For good measure, I’d wrapped my new friend Franzi’s jacket around my waist. At this point I knew I wouldn’t need it, but it was a psychological lifeline. It gave me an out (even though I knew I’d be fine), and thus was the last boost I needed. I’d done the hardest part. I’d started the race. Next stop: Boston

As soon as I started running, I felt better. The cold wasn’t a problem (ironically except for my hands and feet which were actually covered). The rain, and wind almost melted away. Yes… the weather sucked. But the energy that defines this event consumed me. I fed off that energy: absorbed it, magnified it, and blasted it back out into my surroundings! “YEAH BOSTON!!!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. Today was going to be a good day! I live for this!

For the first few miles, I weaved around the masses of runners, sloshing through the piles of drenched, discarded clothes. With the weather as difficult as it was today, the crowd was weak (by Boston standards). Yes I have high standards. Very high! There were still tons of spectators out there cheering us on. Sheltered under tents and umbrellas, bundled up in heavy winter clothes… still they braved the storm to cheer on. This is Boston!

The zipper on the jacket I’d wrapped around my waste was bouncing against my thigh. The cold metal against cold flesh stung with every step. I pulled off to the side, and tried to roll it up better as I ran. Oh no! My Roo was missing! Packed with a handful of gels to power me through the race, my Roo classic had slipped off in the push out the gate. My newer Roo still held tight. I wasn’t so worried about the lost Roo – it had served me well for about five years and I need to upgrade to the larger one soon anyway. Those gels would have come in handy on those middle miles though.

Surrounded by champions, I raced into Ashland, My first two miles had been unsurprisingly slower than goal pace. There’s a lot of traffic in that stretch. As the roads opened up a bit, I picked up the pace. I was right where I wanted to be. I zigzagged across the course, careful not to trip up any of the other runners. Wherever the crowd was – I was… high fiving everyone possible, yelling as I ran by “MAKE SOME NOIIIIIIIIISE!!!” Yes the crowds were weak by Boston standards, but still the course rocked a dull roar. As I passed, I made sure to amp up the decibel level. This was THE Boston Marathon after all!

Ashland center… the crowd was a little denser here. More work for me: More hands to high five, more spectators to fire up. But this is what I live for! My fastest mile of the day… I felt great, the crowds energy pulsing through my veins. I kept a solid pace into Framingham. Again, my feet flying through the center of town. More crowd… more energy… This is what I live for!

I couldn’t help but notice all the barriers lining the streets. Had the weather been half decent, all of those barriers would have been several deep with spectators cheering us on. Now, despite the weather, there was still a solid showing. My friends: you are among the real champions of the day! We ran because this is our Holy Grail. We had trained for months, even years to be here. Nothing could take that from us. What was in it for you? You cheered for us because you knew this was our Holy Grail. You cheered for us because your love of Boston and THE Marathon was far more potent than any inclement weather. You, my friends, make this the best day anywhere on Earth.

Powered by those cheers, I continued into Natick. My hands and feet were numb. Both pairs of socks had long been soaked through, and between the continuing rainfall and splashing through the puddles on the course… drying wasn’t going to happen. I tried fueling with a gel. Despite doubled up gloves, my hands were worthless. I dropped the first trying to open it. I struggled with the second. Eventually I succeeded in tearing the top open, but even then my fingers were too numb to squeeze out the gel. My teeth would have to suffice. It was awkward, but it worked… sort of. My legs started to go tingly – Not cold. I knew this pain too well. My back has been acting up a lot these past few weeks. These injuries just won’t go away, but as the eternal optimist in me remembered, I’ve done some of my best running since I was hit when I lost feeling in my legs. That… and this was Boston. That alone would get me through this. I had to be smart though. I slowed down a little bit just to make sure.

As I neared Wellesley, nature called. I was plenty hydrated today. In 2014 I’d learned my lesson about proper pre-race sustenance. A very painful lesson. I didn’t care about my time, so stopping in to one of the port-a-potties was no big deal…on a normal day. Today I feared that if i stopped I wouldn’t be able to start again. It was way too cold and miserable out. While my core and legs were like a furnace while running, if I stopped, the cold would set in. I held it as long as I could, but in the end natures call could not be ignored. I ducked into the john and the moment I stopped the cold set in. I felt my legs cramp up immediately and knew things were going to be a lot harder from here on out.

It didn’t matter at that moment. I was approaching the infamous Scream Tunnel. Did I mention how much I love the Wellesley girls? Even today you could hear them screaming from quite a distance away. The tunnel wasn’t as long as it usually is, but the girls that were there made more than their fair share of noise! On the approach, I collected myself. I could feel the energy building. “WELLESLEY WE LOVE YOU!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. The response was proportionate. They screamed louder. Zooming by arms flailing, shouting for more noise. The girls lined up, screaming and yelling. Plenty of high fives. Just as many “Kiss me” signs. This is definitely one of the best parts of the course. Can’t we just run 26 one mile loops around Wellesley? Damn, I could probably handle 100 of those loops!

That energy kept me going for another mile or so, before I eased back into a slightly slower pace again. The crowds were pretty thin on the outskirts of Wellesley today, but there were still pockets of spectators and still thousands of runners trudging along. . We fought the elements together. The hills approached. Somewhere out here I missed the 1K Run Club. I had sort of been looking for them, but really all that was on my mind was getting to that finish. This weather was bad; I wanted to get dressed! I saw the MR8 tent off on my left. I was on the wrong side, and couldn’t cross over in time. But still, it was a boost, just like every one of those MR8, Stepping Strong, Limb-It-Less and other related singlets I saw on the course: For Sean. For Krystle. For Lingzhi. For Martin. This is why I cannot be stopped. I continued on despite the challenges! With less than 10 miles to go the cold was really getting to my extremities. Interestingly enough, my core was still fine: I was a furnace. I struggled with my fuel. Those gels are really difficult to manage when your fingers are numb.

We turned right at the firehouse. I had to stop and use the facilities again. Again, I instantly froze. Yet…I’m almost home! These hills are notorious for crushing marathoners dreams, but it doesn’t phase me at all. I know that at the top is home. With the help of the thickening crowds, the towers on the Heights drive me forward. I reach Centre Street. It was here I first watched marathoners run by back in 2000. I had no idea then how much this race would shape my life.

More and more of a BC crowd propels me ever upward. The hills have nothing on me. Tap my shoes together three times, or more accurately run three crazy miles… there’s no place like home! Another brief restroom break. Better to get it over with before BC, so the crowds can get me moving again. It’s after 2pm now. The crowds are relatively sparse. I remind myself that these small crowds I’m disappointed with are exponentially larger and louder than most races can even dream of. Many of these kids have been braving this weather for even longer than I have. The crew that was there was rousing. That energy would keep me going for a while.

Onward into Boston, I reach the BU crowds. Now with only 5K left to go the cold is starting to get to me. The rain is coming down, the winds are fierce, and its still way too cold. I still struggle with my gels. The cold has moved past my hands and feet. My upper arm feels like its going to freeze and fall off. My core is starting to shudder with the wind gusts. Less than 5K to go!!! The faster I run, the faster I can get dressed! I’ve got boundless energy left, I’m just too cold at this point. The crowds keep me going. I was so spent I’d almost been knocked out by a couple of excessively powerful high fives. I’m almost there! Mile 25… just over one to go! One last restroom stop: instant deep freeze. I summon my inner strength. It still said Boston Strong on my chest. I still needed to be Boston Strong! I trudge forward. This isn’t the pace I expected to be running, yet I was fired up! These certainly weren’t the conditions I expected to be running in – half naked no less! I’m too cold to scream at the crowd… but they are certainly screaming at me. That energy keeps me moving. I flail my arms as much as I can, but they are starting to get real cold too.

Finally! Right on Hereford! The road is littered with ponchos and trash bag raincoats. Thousands of triumphant runners have shed that layer down the home stretch. Nothing would stop them from their photo finish! Despite the most brutal of conditions, we’d conquered the course, hills and all! I’m still hugging the edges, as close to the crowd energy as possible. I had to be careful not to trip over all that plastic. If I went down here, it would be tough to get back up. The finish line was just ahead.

Left on Boylston! This is it! I give it everything my frozen body can muster, and pick up the pace just a tiny bit. I yell to the crowd. They roar back! At two specific spots, I glance left with a nod of remembrance to my fallen friends. This was for you! Arms flailing, I race down that final stretch and across that famed finish line once again! BOSTON!!! I’m home!

As soon as I slow to a walk, the cold grips me. My teeth start to chatter, the warmth rushes out of my body. It had done its job, now I needed to find heat. I wrapped up in a space blanket and rushed through the chute. Normally I’d linger here for quite some time. A quick thank you to many of the volunteers as I passed. I was so rushed I never even got to say hi to many of my friends I can count on finding there every year. Right now, all that mattered was heat. I’d literally just run a marathon half naked despite a windchill of about 25. I ducked into the warming room they had opened up for runners. The medical volunteers here were super busy. Shivering runners curled up in a ball all over the place, being tended to by an army of white jackets. Wow, I felt for them today! They had their work cut out for them. A major shout out, and thank you to all of the volunteers that braved this weather. The show must go on, and only because of them – it did!

It had been an incredible day despite the challenges. My mission accomplished, as soon as I was warmed up it was time for the annoying part: cleaning up. It wasn’t until 10 that night that my day was finally over. My body had warmed back up, but my brain still can’t handle the type of exertion this required. I’m going to be sidelined for like a week after this. Totally worth it.

Besides, plenty of time to recover: 361 days until the 2019 Boston Marathon. Get those BQ’s in! Hope to see you all there

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One Boston • Five Years Strong & The Boston Marathon Expo

I love the Boston Marathon.  It’s been my favorite day of the year for many years, and it’s a big day for many, many runners.  This is our Super Bowl, and runners have earned the right to be here through some serious hard work.  Many have trained for years to get that qualifying time in.  Others have put in some serious work to fundraise for their chosen charity.  This is the reward.  Yes… running 26.2 miles is the reward.  We runners are a strange bunch.

This year the expo was at the Seaport Convention Center.  While that did have a few advantages, overall I think Hynes is a much better fit.  At Hynes you spill out the door of the expo and you are practically at finish line.  I think it’s just easier logistics for runners.  Since that finish line is the ultimate goal for so many people there, it’s the perfect fit to have the expo nearby.  That said, the Seaport does allow for a more decorated ‘entryway’ to the expo, since it’s not smack dab in the center of the city.   That did create a pretty sweet photo op!

Another gripe I had with this years expo was the layout of the floor.  The massive official merchandise booth was right in the center, which is fine… except that its so large it requires walls with only a few entryways and a single post-checkout exit.  This makes the whole show seem a bit smaller.  It also makes it easier to miss entire sections of the expo that are on less trafficked sides of that wall.  I spent most of the weekend at the expo, and I still missed a few booths.  I’d much rather see the official merchandise booth be a part of the funnel: Enter, pickup bib, pickup shirt, official merchandise, then dropped out into main show floor.  Of course there should be a prominent entrance back into this booth from the show floor side.

As I said earlier… this is the reward.  Starting with the expo and all the way through the post race party, the resulting energy is powerful all weekend long.   30,000 runners and their friends and families are celebrating.  This is the energy that first attracted me to the marathon, and that I can’t get enough of.  As you walk around the expo hall, you can feel it.  Runners exude an aura of accomplishment and excitement.  They were here!  They made it to Boston!  As soon as I arrive, I can feel myself start to glow.  This is what I live for!

Vendors from all over come to show their wares to these athletes.  Surely, these are the ones who take their sport seriously and need to know about their products!  All sorts of cool stuff to try out.  Samples, sales, demonstrations, discussions.  All the best of what our sport has to offer.  I’m wowed every year by some of the great technology I see (for example Solos and Stryd).  These are gadgets I’d love to put to work!  Then there are some of the simple solutions that really do make a difference.  I always look forward to finding my friends from the RooSport at this and other expos.  I’ve sworn by their pouch for many years now.  It’s simple and it works.  No belt, just a simple magnet to hold your pouch to the clothes you are already wearing.  RaceDots use the same basic concept to comfortably attach your race bib.  All sorts of apparel is available: from Boston Marathon memorabilia to general running gear.  Safety products like Brilliant Reflective designed to make us more visible on the road (or, as I half jokingly say, also makes us a target to some Miami drivers) and recovery products like the Stick designed to get us back out on the road!  Gels, bars, chews and drinks, you can easily find your nutritional needs.  Massage chairs and recovery boots… you name it, it’s here!  Between the festive energy, the cool stuff and the giveaways and samples, I joke that this is Halloween for runners.

But there’s more!  Book signings and event promotions. Running legends and heroes.  I end up spending the entire weekend here, as well as contemplating a million other future races.  From Gasparilla, which I’ve run many times before, to races around the country and the world which I hope to run one day, and the dream to do list Marathon Tours consistently provides… all the way up to one of my bucket list headliners: The World Marathon Challenge.  7 marathons, 7 continents, 7 days.  Yes!  I’m that crazy!   I just need a sponsor to make that happen!  It’s not just Mondays race: The entire Boston Marathon weekend rocks!

With the change in location though, I was torn on Sunday… part of me wanted to go back and spend the day at the expo again.  Part of me felt the need to be exactly where I was just five years earlier.  The finish area and Old South Church were calling my name!  Regrettably, the transit time meant I’d have to choose.  I was glad I’d made the expo on Saturday, as an important find made that choice easier.  I’d honor that five years at the Martin Richard Foundation booth.  I set an alarm on my iPhone and made sure I had enough time to get to the booth before 2:49.  For the past five years, Martins spirit has been a large part of what has propelled me forward despite my own challenges.  I could think of no better way than to honor his memory than to be there with those who were equally inspired by his legacy

So at 2:49 we held a moment of silence.  A few minutes later, there was an expo wide moment of silence.  Five years ago five good people were lost, but their memories will be forever honored.  Today is One Boston Day:  We pause to reflect on those we’ve lost, to uphold their legacies, and focus on all the good this great loss has inspired.  Tomorrow, once again, I would run in their honor.  Tomorrow, Boston and the entire running community will observe Patriots Day.  We will always celebrate the greatness that is the Boston Marathon, and how now more than ever it reflects the triumph of the human spirit!  We will collectively honor the tradition of this race.  For Dennis.  For Sean.  For Krystle.  For Lingzi.  For Martin.

FOR BOSTON!

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Hard Work Pays Off • Newport Rhode Races Half Marathon, Newport, RI, USA

With the Boston Marathon only two days away, it was only natural that I’d be back to my roots in the Northeast already.  Although I’ve generally tended to spend three or four days in Boston prior to the race in years past, this year I decided to do something different.  Instead of another (albeit fantastic) run along the Charles River the weekend before, I’d find myself a nice half marathon to run.  Lo and behold, my new friends from Rhode Races were hosting a marathon, half and 5K in Newport, RI.  Since I was flying into Providence, clearly this was meant to be!

Growing up in CT, I was very familiar with Newport.  I’d taken school trips to be awed by the mansions on the cliffs, but that was well before my running days.  As soon as I saw half marathon and Newport together, I knew this would be a beautiful course.  I also knew it wasn’t going to be flat.  I wasn’t concerned though:  Especially with the main event just 48 hours later, I certainly wasn’t going to be aiming for a PR here.  This would be a beautiful run, and although I’d still give myself a solid workout, I was quite content with the prospect of 13.1 miles of leisurely Newport scenery.  Since my legs are conditioned enough to run these distances on a whim, I didn’t worry about it affecting my performance in Boston.

While I had gotten myself squared away at packet pickup the evening before the race (and they even had Thursday pickup in nearby Providence), my friend was driving down from Boston for the race.  She was part of the 1K Run Club group that had made the trip up from Miami to cheer everyone on.  How awesome is that?  Well, there were so many runners that hadn’t made it out to the early packet pickup, that she and several others ended up getting a bit of a late start after finally getting their own bibs.  One of those late starts even leap-frogged me in the results, starting well after I did, but still finishing with a faster time.

It was cold on race morning; exactly the kind of weather I love to hate.  I dreaded stripping down to my race clothes, but I knew once I’d started moving I’d be fine.  Besides, it would be a bit of conditioning for the rapidly worsening Boston forecast!  Speaking of Boston, I was really pumped to meet a bunch of runners from Boston College!  I wasn’t exactly a serious runner during my time there, but it was quite cool to meet some fellow Eagles who share my newly rediscovered passion for running.

Sure enough, once we started running, I warmed up pretty quick.  Since we started at the beach near the historic cliff walk … there really was no place to go but up!  That uphill definitely got the heart pounding!  I knew this wasn’t going to be an easy course, but it was totally worth it.  We raced through the streets of Newport, passing some incredible sights along the way.  As we approached the halfway point we hit some of the most spectacular views of this course:  Brenton Point and along Ocean.  Wow!  Such spectacular scenery!  Seeing the waves break along the beach below as we ran by was phenomenal  Later on we were wowed some more: Newport is known for its Gilded Age mansions, and we raced right by many of them.  Finally we turned back towards the beach.  It was time to run back down that hill we’d labored up earlier, and that provided a great kick all the way across the finish.  Mission accomplished!

It was hard work, so no qualms about inhaling some pizza and other traditional post race grub.  On the topic of rewards, the finishers medal here was actually quite cool, especially when viewed as part of the bigger picture that it is.  While the piece of pizza shaped medal is nice on its own, especially with the translucent green contrasting the metal itself… it also nested some subtle magnets.  Those in the area who complete the whole Rhode Races series end up with one serious piece of bling at the end of the year as all of these fit into place together!  If I lived a little closer, I’d probably have to go for that myself.

Like life, running isn’t always easy.  But its always worth it, and if you put the work it, you reap the rewards!  Another fantastic half marathon in the books.  Next stop: Boston

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Extra Effort • Lake Minneola Half Marathon, Clermont, FL, USA

How hard are you willing to work to get where you are going? In the end, it really boils down to that. I wasn’t born to be an elite runner. I could never coast to victory. But I can, and will, outwork anyone to get to my finish line. Ask my high school cross country teammates… I’ll bust my ass day in and day out. I don’t care how much ‘better than me’ you happen to be. If you go easy, I’m gonna fly right by you. If you are willing to work too, then we’re both going places faster.

Todays Lake Minneola Half Marathon was both an exercise in that extra effort mentality, and a comical reminder that following blindly often doesn’t go well. A good race strategy always involves knowing the course. Taking the turns and tangents right, plus utilizing any hills and surface changes to your advantage can make the difference between a win or PR, and falling a bit short. I’ve been on both sides of that. Today I was on the wrong one… or should I say the long one.

With the main event (Boston) just eight days away, my strategy today was for a comfortable, steady run. Nothing elaborate. The forecast had been less than ideal, but we got a nice bonus of good weather. So I’d get to enjoy some really nice views of the lake. I’ll take that! I recognized some of the Central Florida regulars lined up at the front as being around my ability level and lined up with them. I certainly didn’t expect to win today, but keeping these guys in my sights would keep me right where I wanted to be.

The start for this course is just a bit further down the (paved) trail than the announcer and festivities, so when the national anthem started, it took a few lines before many of the racers realized what was going on and quieted down. After that, we were off. And my plans to run a comfortable pace went out the window. When the race announcer started off with a shout out to those headed to Boston and played Dropkick Murphy’s Shipping Up To Boston… I was pumped. So I decided to hang with the leads and see how I felt. I’d work a bit harder today than I intended, but I still had to be within reason. After all Boston was what mattered most. So I hung right behind for the first quick two mile loop, and got an extra boost when Sweet Caroline was cranking as we passed over the start line to begin the main loop around the lake. Boston gets me pumped. Boston is my strength. With that spark, I was actually right around PR pace for the first three miles.

After about 5K I pulled back a bit. My back flared up. It wasn’t worth risking next weekend to hold that pace, so I dropped back to the pace I had originally intended. Two miles later, there was now a significant gap between 1, 2 and me. A third runner floated by me. He looked strong, overall podium probably wasn’t happening today. I reigned in the urge to try and stay with him and instead just followed blindly. As he followed a sign pointing right away from the lake, I was just a couple dozen steps behind. As we took on a fairly challenging hill, I thought it a bit strange. I knew a bit about this course, and I didn’t recall this… but still I followed. We followed another sign, but the hill had slowed me, so now there was some distance between us plus another runner had caught me. Now on a straight away with the leads nowhere in sight…That made no sense, they shouldn’t be that far ahead. Our GPSs chimed, yet there was no mile marker. Sommer Sports always has their courses well marked…Ohh boy. As myself and the other runner are suddenly realizing we’ve gone quite a bit off course, a police car drives down the road announcing “Half Marathoners you’re going the wrong way!” We shout out ahead to our fearless wrong way leader, turn around and just like that placing well is no longer an option. Since at least a half dozen others had followed us, the top two were going to have a very commanding lead today!

Not to be deterred, I used that unplanned downhill and my frustration to pick the pace back up. As I retraced my steps, I looked closer at the signs. In my experience, Sommer Sports courses are well marked. They use double red arrows to point the way. Their logo is inside those arrows. The signs we followed were also entirely red, but just a single red arrow with a red logo underneath. The logo for a realtor. Apparently we were headed to an open house! Ha. After a nearly two mile detour I finally made it back to the lake. The red tape pointers that were present for all the other turns weren’t there. Why then hadn’t the police officer at the intersection corrected us? Well it turns out he knew the first guy to go off course (a local) and probably didn’t see his bib and thought he was doing his own workout as he often does in the area. I was right behind, so I was probably working out with him. Shortly thereafter, when the third guy followed us, he realized what was going on. He called out to the runner… who didn’t hear him because of his headphones. A few more followed as he radioed in what was going on. A true comedy of errors, and although the realtors signs were misleading, the fault was certainly our own. The course was marked, and properly mapped out. We just blindly followed somebody else signs. We got a bonus hill workout. Bravo!

Back on course, I held a solid pace most of the way. I had a slightly slower split as the course turned onto a paved trail, and the two leads (now miles ahead) flew by. It was a bit demoralizing, as I should have been right behind them. I wouldn’t let it stop me. Instead I accelerated back to my pace and continued my race. I got to 13.1 miles right about when I expected to (after adjusting for my back flare up around 5K). I slowed a tiny bit to laugh at the situation, then re-accelerated to a strong finish of my 14.75 mile ‘half marathon’. Since I’ll almost definitely never be racing 14.75 miles again, I even rang the PR bell!

I ran a bit more than I had bargained for today, so you better believe I enjoyed the pasta, rice and beans, chips, cookies and other post race chow. As the (tongue in cheek) winner of the Lake Minneola 14.75 miler: I earned that! Either way, I came out to have fun, and that was a success. I collected my bonus bling for doing both of the Sommer Sports halves this season and enjoyed the afterparty. I’ll be back at Waterfront Park, not to defend my 14.75 mile crown though.

So should I have cried because I didn’t get my third place overall? Nope, because I didn’t earn it. I went off course. I screwed up, and as a result someone else got there first. Had I been that other guy… honestly I would have reluctantly taken the award. In that scenario I wouldn’t feel like I earned it. By following blindly, today I definitely didn’t. Yup, I put in a little extra effort today. Yet I still finished top 20 overall and third in my age group. Despite the extra distance, I still kept my average pace right where I wanted it. I worked harder to get to that finish line, and it’s that extra effort that will continue to make me stronger. I don’t mind the extra work. Whatever is in front of me, I will grit through it. I will work harder. I will be stronger. Move my finish line? I’ll adjust, and still prevail. That’s how I roll… and run.

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Frozen Stiff • First Call Half Marathon, Waukesha, WI, USA

I knew I was in for some colder weather when I flew north this weekend.  I just didn’t know how much Mother Nature was going to be out to punish me.  Since the forecast looked reasonable when I left, I packed some cold gear.  Not nearly enough!  The weather was actually pretty moderate until race day.   Then when I woke up on race morning it was cold and extremely windy with a wintry mix of precipitation threatening (as the forecast had predicted once I arrived up north).  I jogged my five mile warmup to the race venue dreading the weather to come.  Nearly five miles in and I still didn’t feel warmed up!  I arrived just in time for a huge gust of wind to start throwing things around.  It was going to be an interesting day!  Welcome to Wisconsin… sincerely, Mother Nature!

The rain and snow started shortly after.  Unsurprising lots of runners just stayed home in their beds, so there were fewer runners than anticipated.  Maybe they were the smart ones?  Thats not my style: I welcome a good challenge.  Sometimes it just requires shifting the gameplay or adjusting the goals a bit.   But in the end, I’ll always find my way to the finish line.

While I originally thought that the First Call Half Marathon might be a moderately fast race for me, today was anything but.  I figured the chilly Wisconsin weather would be close to optimal for performance, and with a course billed as ‘faster than flat’ it sounded like exactly what I needed to get in another sub 90 half without pushing myself too hard.  With the miles I’ve been running this year, and my lingering injuries it would be foolish to try to PR each race.  This sounded like a good opportunity…  Until I read the race day forecast.  More appropriate ended up being a goal just to finish, especially considering my total lack of familiarity with this type of weather.  Someone remind me please how I used to do this during High School Indoor Track Season in CT?!  Dahhhhhhhh!

So instead of stripping down to my race shorts and OneRun singlet then running hard to keep warm, I wore as many layers as I brought with me.  While the rain and snow had stopped just a bit before start time, I wasn’t confident of my ability to handle this weather in racing attire.  Sure enough, I was still chilly when those winds gusted, and the running gloves I have were not nearly enough to keep my fingers warm.  Dressed in a bit more than I originally planned, I started out at what I thought was a reasonable pace.  But I was frozen stiff, and it went downhill from there.  Even in the second mile, my back flared up badly.  It’s been quite a long time since it was this painful, and I wasn’t going to push it.  I’m not sure if the excessive back pain was from the cold, the fact that circumstances forced me to sleep on bed instead of the floor earlier this week, stress, general fluctuations or something else, but wow was it rough today.  The Holy Grail of the Boston Marathon is barely two weeks away.  I won’t risk that under any circumstances.  This became a ‘suffer through it’ and just finish race.  My miles slowed progressively throughout the first half of the race.  Yet I would not stop.  

The course itself was indeed a fast one.  Out and back on a paved trail, with only two U-turns.  Other than that it was straight with just gentle twists of the trail and very minor elevation changes.  There were plenty of water stops complete with sports drink and even gels at one station (passed twice).  There were plenty of race staff out at the few and lightly trafficked road crossings to ensure that racers weren’t interrupted on their run.  Mile markers were at every mile, and even though some of them had been flattened by the wind, you still knew it was there.  Perhaps if the weather had been a bit more accommodating this would have been the fast race I originally thought it was going to be.  Locals need not worry; they get another chance later in the season.  It’s a bit of a trek for me though.

Post race I joined everyone else huddled under the shelter hiding from the brutally cold wind.  While the fruit and other race food I’m used to were certainly welcome… today I was extremely grateful for hot chocolate.  Kudos to the team from Silver Circle for a great event despite some very challenging weather, and it was a pleasure to meet a handful of my extended running family up in Wisconsin for a couple milestones!  Although lucky number 13 half marathon wasn’t so lucky today, I still had a great experience, and passed the 800 mile marker for the year.  I’m disappointed I didn’t win an age group award like I’d originally hoped, or even run anywhere near my ability level but such is life.  I heard many good reviews of Silver Circle’s Trail Assail Race Series.  Who knows, perhaps my path will lead me back out this way at some point.

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Not So Elite • Sunrise Half Marathon, Sunrise, FL, USA

I knew today wasn’t going to be a fast run, but I wanted to see what I could do.  Yesterday I bricked myself: in total I covered nearly 75 miles on a heavy steel roadie thats too big for me (20+ on gravel), ran a half marathon and covered several additional miles during the March For Our Lives.  This after one of my rougher weeks health wise.  For my 12th half marathon of the year, I wanted to see what I could do under these circumstances.  I was targeting 1:35 – 1:40 with a fast start and finish, easing up slightly in the middle miles.  Although I hoped for the lower portion of that, I’m certainly satisfied with the result.

The Sunrise Half Marathon was very different than yesterdays.  While it was certainly a fun event there were several things that frustrated me.  The day started off on a sour note when I picked up my bib and shirt.  While this event had a Friday early packet pickup, there was no Saturday option.  So when I arrived on race morning I was not too happy that they were out of my shirt size.  I signed up nearly EIGHT months in advance, and specified the shirt size I wanted.  On race day, I was told we don’t have medium in the blue, but we do in green.  OK cool, I’ll take that… until I realized ‘that’ was a race shirt from a totally different event.  No thank you, I’d like a shirt from the event I’m actually participating in.  So I opted for the larger shirt (they ran out of both M & L) even though it wouldn’t be getting much use either.  I’ve got no problem taking whatever size shirts are left when I sign up late, but I definitely shouldn’t have to do that when I’m among the first.

Since I wasn’t too worried about my time, I didn’t fret the warmup.  Meandered around a bit and said hello to some of my running friends, then lined up at the start.  There was a bit of a flagpole malfunction during the national anthem, and then some speaker issues.  No worries… the crowd was quick to pick up singing the verse collectively.  What really frustrated me at the start was the old man who pushed his way to the front of the pack (directly in front of me).  At first I thought he was just trying to get a picture up there as there was a woman who snapped a few photos for him.  But he stayed there.  OK, who am I to judge?  I’ve been smoked by older folk before.  Maybe he was a lot faster than he looked.  Then 3…2…1… GO!  Guess not, I got stuck behind his slow start.

Once I managed to dodge him, I took off.  For nearly three miles, I was right where I wanted to be.  And then I wasn’t.  My back really began to act up.  I wasn’t too surprised.  It’s been a rough week.  Plus yesterday was a solid workout… or five!  So I eased up a bit more than I’d originally hoped, as it is always important to keep it on the lighter side of the discomfort/destructive pain dial.  Go easy and just enjoy the run.  I wasn’t gonna win today anyway.  I knew some of the local elites who showed up.  Even on my best day I couldn’t touch the overall podium.  But I could still have fun regardless, and that’s what this is all about.

Markham Park is a great place to run.  Lot’s of beautiful trails to run within and around the park.  This course took solid advantage of that, with most of the running on those parts.  There were also a few miles on the roads in a very lightly trafficked corporate park.  So this was a great course in that respect.  Nice, quiet, and almost completely car-free.  No major hills to worry about, so it was a fairly fast course.  There were quite a few U or sharp turns on the course, so I wouldn’t call this a PR inducing course.  Especially with that disheartening last little loop.  The course started out with a loop in Markham Park, then ran out and around before coming back into the park and basically repeating the first loop.  As you complete that loop, you run through the start line and off onto another mile or so loop within the park before finally ending up at the finish.  Just when the scenery starts to look like you are almost home… the carrot moves way further down the road.  I heard several runners talking about this same thing afterward.  It really was a tease there at the end.

So that was that.  Half marathon #12 of 2018 was in the books.  I didn’t have the kick I wanted at the end, but I still had a great time once I finished.  Crossed the line, backed away from the speakers (which still messes with my TBI’d brain), found some friends and found the food.  Sandwiches, chips, cookies, fruits.  Typical post race chow, which was much appreciated after my weekend calorie burn.  I’d certainly say this weekend was a tough one.  It definitely was a fun one.  I’m sure I’ll end up at another Elite event in the future, and hopefully next time my performance will live up to that name a bit better too.

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Unintentional Half Iron (For a Great Cause) • Race For Women’s Wellness Half Marathon

What a day!  I’ve been ‘racing’ a lot recently.  I use that term loosely:  I’ve been running a lot of organized races, I just haven’t been trying to run my fastest race at most of them (although I always have some sort of plan or workout devised).  I’ve run them for fun.  I love the environment, I love the energy, and in many cases I love the WHY – the reason these races exist.

Today’s race was one of those.  The team from ITZ Events has been putting on the Race for Women’s Wellness Half Marathon and 5K in Coral Springs for some time now, and it’s been an incredible event as long as I’ve known about it.  This was my third time running it (’14, ’15 & ’18).  Had it not been for my injuries, I most likely would have run it the past few years as well.

This is a great event if you are looking to race or PR!   The course is flat and fast.  Several pacers are available for those in the 1:50-2:30 range.  It’s is on well paved roads without too many turns (1 U-turn).  Mile markers are clearly labelled, and include clocks with accurate gun time.  While many of the roads the course follows are busy multilane roads, runners have a dedicated lane, since it’s early traffic isn’t too bad and police presence is robust (not to mention awesome: I loved running by the cop cars with windows down and music cranking, especially the rocky one).  There are lots of aid stations, some including gels or on course medical.  The biggest downside is its so early – 6am.  While this means its generally pretty cool for the majority of the race for most entrants, it means I have to get up way too early, and that the roads can be a bit dark at times.

It’s also got a solid post race.  Wet towels to clean up and cool down at the finish line, plenty of food (bagels, bananas, and more for the runners and even free donuts, iced coffee and sandwiches courtesy of the sponsors.  There were quite a few vendor tents and all in all a fun post race social.  Ohh did I mention the beer?  While I’m still avoiding alcohol with my TBI concerns, beer is alway a great race amenity.

The finishers medals are well done, and although the industry trend is otherwise… this is the size I prefer to see for a race of this distance.  While my performance this year didn’t earn me any awards, there were plenty.  In addition to the running awards, it’s always great to see this events recognition of it’s why – supporting the fight against breast cancer.  The awards ceremony honors all those present affected by this disease, as well as the fundraising efforts to support the Lisa Boccard Breast Cancer Fund.  Running a half marathon is nothing… these are the real champions of the day.  Overall this is the kind of event I love to support.  Well organized and clearly a product of passion for both running and it’s charitable cause.

In 2015, I raced this one, and finished ONE second shy of my then PR (set when I was just 17).  I wasn’t sure whether to be ecstatic that I could keep up with my teenage self, or frustrated that I was ONE SECOND off my PR!  This year, I originally hoped to try for another PR or close.  Unfortunately this past week my health has slipped a bit.  Half the week I could barely get out of bed.  Both the brain and back have been rough.  Which meant I wouldn’t likely be having my best race, and kind of limited my efforts to figure out transportation.  So I improvised…  Life can slow me, life can knock me down, but I will continue to find ways to thrive somehow.  I decided to make this a tough workout: I would bike ~45 miles to the start, run, then bike some more.  Total distance being pretty much a half distance triathlon, with the swimming replaced by extra cycling.

I wasn’t expecting this to be a quick and easy ride.  The only functional bike I’ve got at this point is The Beast.  She’s solid, but heavy and a bit too big for me.  But the Beast and I are unstoppable.  We don’t make excuses.  I left at about 2am for the 6am start.  I figured it should take about three hours to get there.  I was quite a bit off on that projection – with Miami Music Week chaos on South Beach, my less than ideal health and a heavy ride… it took close to four.

That meant I was pulling into the event venue as runners were being given final instructions.  Instead of a relaxed ‘transition’ it was super rushed.  So thank you (and sorry!) to the race staff for facilitating my bib pickup literally at the last second, and for not shutting off the start mat until I crossed (nearly four minutes after the race was underway).  I ran down the street to catch up to the sweep vehicle, pinning on my number as I went.  Yeah this wasn’t going to be fast… but I’d still have fun

It was a tough run.  My first mile was OK considering, and I had a solid next two with the psychological boost of passing everyone.  Around mile three I started to feel it.  I wasn’t too surprised considering how rough this week had been, and made the never fun decision to ease up significantly.  This was a brick workout.  Today’s goal was just to keep going, and that was exactly what I was going to do.

An hour and forty five minutes later I finished, soaked in the scene, partied with old and new running friends, then took off after the awards.  It was time to bike a few more miles to support the MSD students and pay tribute to those lost just over a month ago.  Especially after my experience in Boston nearly five years ago, its an honor to stand with all communities affected by these types of events, and further inspiration to renew efforts to build OneRun.  That is my why!

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Most Memorable Finishes • Gasparilla Distance Classic Part II, Tampa, FL, USA

Day two of Gasparilla was another memorable one!  As is often the case in hot Florida races, the half marathon started well before the sun came up.  I didn’t see Meb at the starting line, so I knew I was just going to go ‘easy’ today and enjoy the atmosphere.  Perhaps thats a good thing, as my back was even worse than yesterday!  After a solid first mile in the dark, I had to take a brief bathroom break.  Getting started again afterwards was not fun.  The pain was excruciating.  I knew this wasn’t going to be a time I was proud of.  The next five miles were rough, but when the 1:45 pace group caught up to me around halfway, I decided that was the perfect pace to hold.  Even with the pain, I was pretty sure this was doable.

The second half of the race was on Bayshore again.  Yes, it’s a beautiful place to run, but now on my third lap in just over 24 hours, it loses a bit of its appeal.  It’s still a great run though… there’s actually a solid number of spectators cheering you on.  Gasparilla is a very spectator friendly event.  With all of the events going out and back down Bayshore, if you set up camp on the large grassy median, you are surrounded by runners to cheer for all day, both days!  Turns out Meb opted not to run today… instead he was out there cheering for us.  That was also pretty cool!  So I trudged along with the 1:45 group.  I’d like to get involved in pacing.  I really do enjoy pushing my fellow runners to their best, even on days when I’m not at my best.  This would be a perfect exercise to make sure that even on a ‘bad’ day, 1:45 was a reasonable group for me to run with.  Yup, it hurt.  But no, it didn’t stop me!  With only a few miles left, the group caught up to one of the challenge runners.  Clearly he wasn’t having his ideal day either.  As I spoke with him about the challenge, he confided that he was seriously contemplating skipping on the last race.  It took a little persuading, but in the end he decided to give it a go.  Don’t worry about your speed I told him, just get to the finish!  Well, at least at this point in the day he had nothing to worry about: as soon as the finish line was in sight, he had a much better kick than me.  Three runs down…

Now came the worst part of the weekend.  Sitting around doing nothing between the half and the 8K is guaranteed to cramp you up.  I’ve never been able to get through this without some cramping.  Perhaps I should just go and run another four miles in between next time just to keep myself busy.  You know, because 30 miles for the weekend really isn’t enough already!  I also would have loved to chow on the post race food, but with one more race left on my plate, that was just a tease too.  As much as I love Gasparilla weekend, this is the one thing I wish could change.  If only they had a two wave start on the 8K, with the first wave going a good 30 minutes before the second.  Wishful thinking, and a lot of cramping!

Before I knew it though, that down time had passed.  I was in pain and cramped.  This was not going to be a fast race.  I might as well play frogger again!  So I started in the back, and slowly worked my way up.  Surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as I thought.  The back was manageable, and the cramps too!  These were among my fastest miles of the weekend.  Certainly nothing spectacular, but considering my difficulties all weekend, I was more than happy with it.  Just past the three mile mark though, my plans changed:  just in front of me two young boys went from a solid run to outright stopping.  One of them was teasing his friend a bit about stopping, the other just didn’t want to run anymore.  “Come on man, you got this!” I told him.  “Run with me!”  I slowed my pace significantly to let him draft behind me.  I was his age once… you don’t have the mental part of running at your command when you are that young.  From his responses, I knew he was fine.  “Yes sir” he responded.  From the simple fact that he responded, I knew he had plenty left in the tank.  The only thing holding him back was himself.  Now I could teach him an important lesson: that we are more capable than we often give ourselves credit for!

So we ran.  I was in front, he was behind trudging along, grunting a bit because it hurt. But as I kept talking to him to distract him from the pain… “Yes sir.”  “Yes sir”  “Yes sir”.  I knew he was fine.  Had he responded with grunts and nods, then I would have been more concerned.  Now his buddy (the one who had teased him about stopping), he called it quits himself and slowed to a walk.  I tried to convince him to run with us, but he chose not to. So it was me and my new friend until the end.  “We can slow as much as you want,” I told him “but we aren’t stopping!”  I knew that as soon as he saw the finish line, I’d be left in the dust.  Unsurprisingly, his pace picked up a bit right as the arch came into view.  “Don’t let me hold you back!  Great run!” I told him.  While the pace had been anything but great for me, his success made it a great run!  I crossed the line, collected my bling, and felt more accomplished than when I run a solid pace myself.  Another memorable Gasparilla finish!  Not literally carrying a girl across the finish line like the half a few years ago… but definitely a memorable run!

As I walked through the chute, I saw my new friend with his mom.  “How’s he doing?” I asked.  “I knew he had it in him!”  She gave me a big hug and thank you.   Turns out this had been his first ever long run without his father by his side.  His father was in the military and  as such couldn’t be there with him today.  That certainly explained the young mans manners.  It’s not often that you hear “Yes sir” these days!  I suspect this race will be one that the both of us remember for years to come.  Now it was finally time for the food and afterparty!  Although I still had to position myself far from the stage and loud music, it was time to celebrate a successful race weekend with my friends from the 1K run club and elsewhere.  This had been a great weekend:  the running community had given so much to me, and I’d even had the opportunity to give back myself.  I would sleep well tonight!

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My Running Family • Gasparilla Distance Classic Part I, Tampa, FL, USA

This was my fourth year out at the Gasparilla Distance Classic and it certainly won’t be my last.  Every year has been memorable!  It’s a huge race (four actually) and an even bigger party.  Every year I have the pleasure of meeting and spending time with part of my extended running family.  Gasparilla, as its name implies, is pirate themed.  The medals, the decorations and even the costumed runners argh all thusly inspired.  The expo is hopping and fun, reminding runners that here in Tampa, it’s all about the booty!  Every year I find my friends from Roo Sport here, and of course make friends at other booths as well.  I spent a good deal of time with my new Boston-based Vice Cream friends.  Good people, and yes… ice cream is my vice!  I started mentally planning trips to some of the Florida Road Races in the bay area, as well as Philly.  I haven’t been there in a while, need to go back and run it!  I had the pleasure of meeting runners from all over.  Some were only running the 5K.  Others were just as crazy as me.  There are no shortage of challenges here, up to and including the Michelob Ultra Challenge.  Start off with a 15K on Saturday morning, and quickly follow up with a 5K.  Then on Sunday the half marathon, and after a lactic acid nurturing break, finish up the weekend with an 8K.  Yes, this is what I do for fun.

I knew I wasn’t going to be running any spectacular paces this weekend.  Quite frankly, I didn’t care.  I was here to have fun!  So I went out and ran a comfortable pace.   Well, not exactly comfortable: my injuries have been flaring up all month long.  Regardless, It was a great race.  I ran steady, I ran strong.  For this first race, running along Bayshore is fantastic.  A wide street with beautiful views, completely closed to cars and with a large grassy median stocked with multiple aid stations.  This is a great place to run!  Much of the surface is concrete, so it’s a bit less forgiving than asphalt.  I’ll admit, I wasn’t looking forward to all the pounding this would force my messed up legs and backs to absorb.  All the more reason why I wasn’t pushing myself too hard.  Just have fun, thats why I was here.

Next up there was a short break.  The sun was out in full force now, so it was getting quite hot.  Kept myself hydrated and found my way into the start corrals.  Just for fun, I was going to play race frogger today: start in back, and weave through masses of runners.  I wasn’t going to PR anyway, and this allowed me to enjoy the company of various runners I normally don’t get to run with.  Plus it pretty much guaranteed negative splits.  Each mile was significantly faster than the last.  Running like this is not conducive to a fast time: pace is up and down as you run nearly as much sideways as you do forwards early on.  It’s easy to get boxed in, especially behind pace walls.  I really want to look into running races as a pacer.  I’ve found it to often be more rewarding to guide another runner to their goals, than to hit intermediate targets myself.  When I do, someone kick me if I don’t keep my pace groups from spreading out and blocking other runners from passing!  I love this event, but I do wish the first wave of the 5K wasn’t so spread out.  Thousands of runners: with expected finish times from sub 15 all the way up to 24!  And then there are several other waves to follow.  I’d love to see this split a little more evenly pace-wise.   Wave 1: 7 and under pace.  Then split the rest of the waves proportionately based on the number of runners.  Yes, wave 1 would be smaller.  But with huge races like this, it’s inevitable that some runners who want to compete, get stuck in the back or middle of the corral… and then when the gun goes off, they can’t run their pace.  Today, that didn’t bother me, but I’ve definitely be in the position before where it kept me from my goals.

Now with two races complete, it was time for day one of the party!  I enjoyed some of the chow, and since my brain still can’t handle the loud music and party atmosphere, went back to the expo instead.  Not quite as loud, and for me just as fun!  While there I heard rumors that Meb might be running the race at mere mortal pace.  If true, I’d still have to pick up my own pace to hang with him.  Now that would be cool!  I was ready for day two!