Battle of Brooklyn

This past weekend, I ran in the Battle of Brooklyn 10 Miler, put on by JackRabbit Sports and NYCRuns.  My spring and summer race schedule has already been pretty hectic, but I really wanted to run this one.  I had just finished my clinical affiliation for the summer, and I needed to get my marathon training back on track (the desire to run long distances wanes slightly when you are on your feet for 8+ hours, running around and working with patients [which, don't get me wrong, I love]).  It only cost me $25 to register, thanks to the ubiquitous coupon codes that JackRabbit kept floating around the interwebs.  Included with admission were a exceptionally compressible reusable bag, and a pint glass emblazoned with the race logo.

I woke up the morning of the race, took Molly for a quick walk, and tried to devour some breakfast and coffee quickly.  I'm no fan of weekend subway work, line changes, and delays, so I thought I would give myself about an hour to get to the race, and leave at about 6:45.  With that, I should have had about 15-20 minutes to find a restroom, stretch out a little bit, and slowly warm up.  I jogged down to the 86th street station for the 4/5 express trains, and was pleasantly surprised that I didn't have to wait for 15 minutes to catch one.  However, my first mistake was lurking just around the corner.

I only checked the status of the F and 4/5/6 lines before I left, so I didn't know what was happening with the other subway lines.  If I had been thinking rationally, I would have just stuck with what I knew would be running, and stayed on the train.  Instead, I decided to transfer to the Q, which would mean only 3 stops to where I wanted to get off, and potentially, more time before the race to hang out.  Of course, as soon as I get to the Q platform, I find out that the train is making a bajillion more stops.  And it didn't show up for 10 minutes.

Frustrated at the snail's pace of the train, I began to worry about making it to the start in time.  It is also around this time that I realize my bladder has swollen to the size of a watermelon.  I got off the train at 7:52 (just 8 minutes before the race starts), and have about 3/4 of a mile from the train station to the start of the race.  I begin lightly jogging to try and make it there in time, but then realize that there's no way that I'll make it at that pace.  So I really kick it and start sprinting down Prospect Park West, frantically trying to find the entrance closest to the race start.  Perhaps a product of the stress of getting to the start, or the sudden shift in speed from sloth to cheetah, but I realize that nature is knocking...at the back door as well.

I arrive at the start line moments before the horn sounds to signal the start of the race.  In the commotion, I am unable to locate a port-a-let, so I just tuck into the crowd and get ready to run despite my ever-expanding bladder.  The race begins, and I take off pretty slowly, not wanting to jar anything loose.  About a mile in, I stop at the port-a-let (where a short line has already formed).  A woman emerges from inside, declaring for all to hear that there is no TP to be had at this particular rest stop.  Oh well.  I'm at least able to take care of one (number one, specifically) pressing need and move on with my race.

After my stop, I actually managed a pretty good race.  When I came upon the big hill where the "Time Your Climb" was taking place, I made an effort to keep my pace consistent, and make some loose visual landmarks (huge tree trunk, mile marker, and weird looking tree were the 3, to be precise) to compare my times against.  Halfway up this hill was a cavalry of "British soliders", aka people in wigs and Union Jack t-shirts, spraying runners with water from squirt guns.  It was a nice little touch to the race, and even though it wasn't smoldering outside as it has been the last several weeks, the spray of cool water was still appreciated.

Victory drink in my new pint glass.

My next two laps around the park were mostly uneventful.  I was able to stay very consistent on the big hill, and thought that I had a decent chance for winning the Most Consistent Time Your Climb.  I scurried across the finish line, finishing with a time of 1:26:30.  I had never raced the 10-mile distance before, so I didn't have a great sense of pacing.  Also, the aforementioned pee-mergency caused me to stop for 2 minutes at the first rest stop, hurting my time a little bit more.

I was much dismayed, as I roamed about the finishing area, to discover that none of the port-a-lets at the  finish had TP either (luckily, I made it home without incident).  This would probably be my only complaint about the race, aside from the monotony of running the same loop 3 times.

Two days later, I was checking the official results and was very pleased to find that I took second in the Most Consistent Time Your Climb competition!  I was only 0.1 seconds behind the winner, which is heartbreakingly close, but I was informed that I still won a prize.  A quick trip to JackRabbit Sports at Union Square, and I'm the proud recipient of a $30 gift card!  Just for being consistent going up some hill 3 times!

So close!

I genuinely enjoyed my Battle of Brooklyn experience.  After doing several NYRR races over the past couple of months, it was nice to have a slightly smaller race experience, and feel like I actually mattered to the race organizers, even though I'm not part of a prestigious running club or run a 5:00 per mile pace. I look forward to running more JackRabbit/NYCRuns events in the future.

Love/Hate: Treadmills

Since the temperatures are rising well into the 90s in New York yesterday, I opted for a quick run on a treadmill at the gym instead of completely melting in the park.  Before I really knew anything about running, I really enjoyed running on treadmills.  In my novice runner naïveté, I thought it supremely convenient to hop on the treadmill, run until I was tired, hop off and go home.  Goal setting wasn’t part of my running at that point, and I didn’t have much of a motivation to increase my endurance.  I just wanted to zone out, listen to loud music, and get my run over with.

They're so happy and not drenched in sweat!

As my running has evolved from trotting around in an occasional 5K’s to training for a marathon, I’ve learned to appreciate running outside and exploring new routes.  I don’t always plan out how far I’m going to run anymore.  Sometimes, I’ll just set out in a certain direction and just go, and I’ll just find my way back home eventually.  I’ve also learned how to run in the dry, cold winter air – something that has always forced me to the treadmill in the past.  I’ve also found that running is a great way to explore a city.  When I first moved to New York, I ran a lot up and down the East River and through the East Village.  It was a great introduction to life in NYC, and a way for me to see different neighborhoods.  Since I moved further uptown, I’ve done more running in Central Park and Randall’s Island, and I now feel like I know those places inside and out.  As running outside and exploring new places have become integral parts of my training, treadmill running has slowly been phased out.  Hopping on the treadmill yesterday felt like I was reverting to my old ways.

Perhaps it was the TV mounted to the treadmill which was enticingly playing “The Price is Right” that caused my gaze to shift downwards and my form to further deterioate as a result, or perhaps it was the fact that I felt more like a hamster than a runner.  Regardless of the cause, my stride was definitely off yesterday.  I ended up heel striking more than I do out on the road, and I felt like I was landing a lot harder.  I spent most of my workout trying to soften my footstrikes, but I was too motivated to get off of the dreaded machine to really focus, so I just cranked it up and ran hard for 20 minutes.

I found it really hard to not be judgmental while at the gym.  Half of the people who were running were jogging slowly with the incline cranked up, which, in all fairness is a good workout, but were holding on for dear life to the side rails.  The other half of the runners had their speed jacked up and were pounding the treadmill with viciously hard heel strike after heel strike.  That's fine if that works for you, but probably not the best for your joints.  I also turned my judgmental eyes inward - since there is no summer park breeze whisking away the excess heat and sweat during a run at the gym, I was a giant, sweaty mess when I sat down to do some ab work. 

It’s another scorcher today, but I’m not going to the gym this time.  I think I’ll just wait until evening when the heat index is nearly tolerable to get a quick run in.

Friday Training Update

Two of the books I've read over the past couple of weeks include Run: The Mind-Body Method of Running by Feel and Eat & Run.  Both books were chock-full of useful information and insight into how I can improve my running and ultimately, run happier.  In this day and age, everyone seems to be so consumed with acquiring more data about their training: GPS maps, heart rate training zones, VO2 max, lactate thresholds, gait analysis, etc.  What both books advocate is (to some degree) ignore all of these things and just go run.  Listen to your body and the feedback it's giving you - this will generally be more relevant and applicable than if you looked at your heart rate monitor and saw you were training at 75% of your heart rate reserve.  Running in the moment, and not getting second-by-second feedback on pacing and heart rate, helps your body to find it's natural cadence much better than constantly trying to make adjustments based on empiric evidence of how you are running.  So most of this week, I've tried to not pay any attention to my iPhone while running and I just ran.

One discovery I've made this week is that when I set my Nike+ GPS app and don't check it again until I feel I want to stop, I almost always have gone one hour and traversed somewhere between 7.3 and 7.5 miles. This has happened a few times in the last week or two, and I'm sure it's occurring in part because I haven't been setting any goal distances for runs, as I'm not really in training mode for a race yet.  Yesterday, however, I had set a goal distance of 10 miles.  At a certain point in my run, I felt like I was dragging a little bit.  I checked my iPhone just to see where I was in my run.  Sure enough, I was 58 minutes and a little over 7 miles in.  Once I reminded myself that I had set a goal for myself that day, I found that the rest of the run was easy.  I think it was an important discovery though; I could run for an hour a day and my body wouldn't really rebel at all, but when I try and push my training past that point, I'll need a little mental coaxing to get beyond the point where my body feels comfortable going.  As I get in better shape, I'm hoping that this point will happen later and later in workouts, and I'll be accustomed to running greater distances with regularity.

Eat & Run Review

Scott Jurek is perhaps the most prominent figure in an otherwise obscure pantheon of ultramarathoners.  What makes Scott unlike any other ultrarunner (or any other professional athlete, for that matter) is that he has ascended to the top of his sport while maintaining a purely vegan diet.  This is a major centerpiece in his new book, Eat & Run, which follows his journey from a poor, lanky kid from rural Minnesota to world-renowned runner who frequently pushes his mind and body to the extreme –and claims world records in the process.

At the heart of Eat & Run is Scott Jurek’s experience with food and its relation to his performance in athletics.  His story encompasses his dietary transition from omnivore with a penchant for milk, butter, and McDonalds to vegan superstar.  At a certain point in his young career, Scott realized that he not only felt better when he ate better, but his performance increased drastically as a result.  This may not seem like a major epiphany, as I think most of us understand that the less processed junk we put in our bodies, the better we will feel.  But it’s unfortunate that there aren’t more people who put this into practice.  When Scott had this revelation with food, he didn’t make excuses like, “it’s too expensive to eat whole, organic foods” or “it’s way to hard to set aside that much time to cook food this good.”  He dedicated himself to making whole, nutritious, vegan food a focal point of his life.

The strength of Eat & Run is Scott’s narrative voice as he rises from disrespected underdog to perennial powerhouse in some of the world’s most difficult races.  In a balancing act of bravado and supreme confidence, Scott quickly ascends to the heights of ultrarunning greatness.  Not everything trends upwards in Scott’s life, though, and the chapter where he describes the point in his life where he felt so thoroughly lost is revelatory and powerful.  Throughout the book, we get a glimpse into how he was able to develop the perseverance required to be the best in a tremendously difficult sport.

I really enjoyed Eat & Run.  Scott describes many of his races in great detail (both triumphs and failures alike), and tries to give some insight into the ultrarunner mindset.  Each chapter ends with some words of wisdom and a recipe that in some way characterizes the theme of the preceding chapter (examples include 8-grain strawberry pancakes, Western States trail “Cheese” spread, Tamari-lime tempeh and brown rice, and Xocolatl energy balls).  The recipes sound really delicious, and I look forward to trying a few of them, especially those where I will get to try ingredients or flavors that I’ve never experienced.

I strongly recommend Eat & Run for both runners and non-runners alike.  I think runners will appreciate the sheer will and dedication that Scott has for his craft, and non-runners will find lots of life lessons tucked into the pages amidst descriptions of Scott’s running achievements.

Monday Love/Hate: Barefoot Running

Back in 2009 when Born to Run was published, barefoot running transitioned from a small cult following into mainstream phenomenon.  Following the words of Christopher McDougall, many runners threw caution to the wind, dumped their overly cushioned trainers in the trash, and laid bare foot to pavement in an effort to reduce their risk of injury, connect with their run, and perfect their strides.

Before I delve into a diatribe, I should acknowledge that I have never spent any time running barefoot, so perhaps there is a “don’t knock it until you try it” aspect that I’m missing out on.  However, speaking as someone who has some background in kinesiology and biomechanics, I hope I can offer some perspective.

To keep it short and sweet, the main problem I have with barefoot running is the one-size-fits-all philosophy.  Every runner has a slightly different stride which they adapt to fit their body type and distance requirements.  Some runners have anatomic deficits that require support shoes or custom orthotics.  Some runners have a build that necessitates extra cushioning in their shoes.  Also, whether or not it is the widely accepted belief amongst barefooters, what I see a lot is “everyone can (and should) barefoot run.  If you’ve had patellofemoral pain, plantar fasciitis, tibial and/or metatarsal stress fractures, what you need to do is get rid of those cumbersome shoes and relearn how to run on your own 2 bare feet.”  While there is certainly compelling anecdotal evidence that runners who convert from shod to barefoot running are able to limit their injuries, I don’t entirely buy it.  Since most people in this country wear shoes starting at a very young age, the average person’s intrinsic foot musculature and ligamentous structures cannot handle as much stress as, say, a Raramuri.  When people who have run shod their whole life throw their shoes out and hit the road, the incidence of injury skyrockets within the first several runs as people try to retain their previous speed and distance.  It also troubles me that so many road runners have taken to barefoot running, as concrete and asphalt aren't exactly forgiving surfaces to run on with no support.

I also believe that there isn’t enough emphasis on transitioning from shod to barefoot running.  Shoes like the Brooks PureProject line, Saucony Kinvara, and even the Skechers GoRun are ideal for this transition period, but the barefoot zealots would have you believe that all shoes are made to cause you injury and dismay while you dole out increasing amounts of money to buy the newest models.

The 3 basic themes of barefoot running are 1) runners should strike on their forefoot, 2) take shorter strides that place your feet closer to your center of gravity, and 3) have a quicker stride rate.  I do stand by barefoot runners in the belief that these 3 modifications will lead to a more efficient stride, which will allow for significant increases in endurance and pace.  However, you will find that these can all be accomplished while wearing shoes, which allows for a margin of error if you heel strike or start to lengthen your stride slightly.   

I’ll cut it off here, though I could keep going for a while.  What do you think of barefoot running?  Is it the real deal?  Or just a fad that will go the way of Tae Bo, Walkmen, and the Atkins diet?

Friday Training Update

After a stiflingly humid stretch of weather, I've been slowly working in more training miles.  I'm still not training for any specific marathon yet, but I think that I'm targeting the Under Armour Baltimore Marathon.  It will be fairly cheap to get to, it has more affordable (and closer to the start/finish) hotel options, and the race taking place on a Saturday is huge, as it allows for a little bit more time to recover before going back to class.  But nothing is written in stone yet, and the Philadelphia Marathon still looks very appealing as well.

Randall's Island

I've recently been doing more runs on Randall's Island since the footbridge from 102nd street reopened.  It's a nice change of pace from Central Park, which can get a little bit crowded sometimes.  When we first moved up to East Harlem and I started running on Randall's Island, I remember thinking that doing a loop of the island was really tough and I felt accomplished if I made it all the way around without having to stop.  Now, I'm realizing that if I'm going to do some decent training on Randall's, I would need to do a few laps to get up to the milage I'm now accustomed to.

Wednesday Nutrition: Chia Seeds

Since becoming a more serious runner, I’ve noticed that there are a superfluity of trends that have taken hold in the running population as a whole, or sometimes only in small, intense cliques.  Everyone with 2 running shoes and the sense to make a quick buck has made some breakthrough discovery about a certain way you’re supposed to run, eat, or train.  These trends range from the potentially significant to the unspeakably absurd.  One trend that I’ve begun to buy into a bit is nutritional supplements; mostly the ones that are backed by many years (or centuries, in the case of Chia) of evidence.

My exposure to Chia seeds began while reading Born to Run, and learning about the Tarahumara who eat a mixture of pinole and Chia seeds while on their prolonged runs through the Copper Canyons.  While I am by no means an exceptional endurance athlete, I decided to give Chia seeds a shot to see if they made a difference in my training.  Without going into too much nutritional detail, a single tablespoon of Chia seeds contain many things that are essential to a runner's diet:

• 3g protein
• 5g fiber
• Calcium and potassium
• LOADS of antioxidants
• 6% DV Iron
• 2.5 g of Omega-3 fatty acids 

One of my favorite ways to incorporate Chia seeds into my diet is by throwing a tablespoon or two into fruit juice (generally a mix of tart cherry juice and pomegranate juice – both have strong anti-inflammatory and antioxidant properties).  Chia seeds absorb water like crazy, so they tend to turn fluid into a kind of gel.  The seeds end up being just slightly crunchy when they are suspended in the juice.  The texture is akin to blackberry seeds, which might be unappealing for some, but I kind of like it.  I’ve also recently tried adding Chia seeds to oatmeal and smoothies, and they work both in great.  I haven't turned into an endurance machine since my consumption of Chia began, but I hope it will have a beneficial effect on my training and overall health.

As a side note, my copy of Eat & Run: My Unlikely Journey to Ultramarathon Greatness by Scott Jurek came in the mail today, and I'm excited to read it.  Hopefully I can have a review up by next Wednesday!

Monday Love/Hate: Central Park Running

This week marks the 2-year anniversary of my arrival in New York City.  Over the past 2 years, I've learned quite a bit about life in the city.  One very big aspect of living here, for me at least, is running in Central Park; it almost makes the otherwise rubbish-strewn and crazy-infested city livable.  Amanda and I have lived in East Harlem for about a year now, and while we found that our apartment is newer and the rent is cheaper than when we lived in Murray Hill, there's a seemingly inescapable bedlam that greets us when we hit the streets every day.  However, we are now a quick walk away from Central Park - and I take full advantage of that proximity.

Hitting the edge of the park after ambling through East Harlem feels like coming upon an oasis of serenity in an ocean of lunacy.  The smell of the fresh-cut grass, the blooming flowers, the shade given off by towering oaks; it's enough to make you forget that moments earlier, you were just harangued by someone digging through trash while you dodged piles of disregarded dog shit on the sidewalk.  It brings me such a sense of genuine joy and elation to get to the park to set out on a long run, but while I have racked up the miles crisscrossing most nooks and crannies of Central Park during my residency in NYC, I have taken note of a few things that rub me the wrong way.  The list below is a brief introduction to the unwritten rules that all runners, elites and couch-to-5K's alike, should adhere to:


1. When running on the path that's part of the Central Park roadways, stay to the right.  When a runner is approaching you from the opposite direction that has forcibly decided to not obey this advice, don't act like you have never encountered a human being before and decide that now is the appropriate time for a runners game of chicken.

Get out of the way (please)!

2. If you are one of the many New Yorkers and tourists who enjoy a nice, leisurely stroll around the reservoir - perfect.  All us runners ask is that you try not to occupy the entire path when you and your friends are casually making your way around the loop.  *Additional note - if you are going to be hogging the path by taking pictures of your loved ones with the reservoir and skyline in the background, it brings me great joy to try and photobomb you.
3. (This point is more applicable to New York Road Runners races, which frequently have more than 7,000 entrants.  But since most races are run in Central Park, I'll include it nonetheless) Spitting and launching snot rockets are inherent, albeit off-putting, aspects of running.  All we ask is that you give a quick glance to check if anyone is in your splash zone before you decide to jettison your bodily fluids in one direction or another.
4. Barefoot and minimalist running is all the craze currently, and this is pretty evident by taking a look at runners' feet in Central Park.  But if you decide to go for a run with no shoes on in the park and you happen to step in any of the numerous undesirable substances that New York has to offer, don't expect us shod runners to feel too sorry for you.  (More on my feelings about barefoot running next week!)
5. Lastly, please wear clothes.  I'm all for self-confidence and a positive body image, but if your coarse, thick back hair is reminiscent of a Chia pet, you should consider covering up.

Dominating the Track & Fall Marathons

I crushed my track workout yesterday.  Take that, Thomas Jefferson!

After the failure of the Cellcom Green Bay Marathon, I wanted to quickly set my sights on my next big race.  I thought it would be better to just pick up where I left off with training, as well as give myself something to look forward to on the horizon.  The training plan that I loosely followed leading up to the GB Marathon was about 18 weeks in length (admittedly, I probably only did 14 weeks of serious training), and I want to complete between 18-20 weeks of serious training for my next race.  I want to incorporate things like speedwork, hill repeats, and more crosstraining.  Yesterday, I ran a few blocks uptown to Thomas Jefferson Park and did some work on the track.  I did 6 x 800 meter repeats at faster than 5K pace, with a 400 meter slow jog in between reps.  My first lap around the track was 1:09 - much faster than I expected to be running.  Most of my 800 intervals were around 2:45, which made me think the track was shorter than 400 meters or I was somehow cheating because I am not fast.  I later double checked on the NYC Parks website that yes, indeed, the track is 400 meters.  I've been in kind of a rut since the marathon, but I was delighted with how I ran today, and I look forward to doing track workouts more frequently.

When planning my next race, the first one that came to mind was the ING New York City Marathon.  I was a medical volunteer last year, and I was itching to get a chance to run it this coming fall.  The crowd support for the NYC Marathon is out-of-control awesome, as the whole city along the course basically throws one giant party.  It's definitely something I want to experience as a runner.  My only chance for this year was via the lottery system, which apparently had a 8-10% acceptance rate.  But alas, the random selection machine didn't pick me, so I can cross that off the list of potential fall races.  Now that I realized I had to actually leave the city to run my fall marathon, I started to look for other options.

I have it narrowed down to 3 options, in this order:
1. The Under Amour Baltimore Marathon
2. Philadelphia Marathon
3. ING Hartford Marathon

They all have received pretty good reviews, so I'd be up for any of them.  Here's a brief sampling of what runners had to say about each one:
Baltimore:

Pros: -Lots of spectators on the course and support from the locals. -Neat run through a big city. -Packet pickup efficient and organized. -Race generally well organized (lots of food, water, etc.). Cons: -At mile 16 they merge the half marathoners in with the full marathoners. This wasn't a problem for me (probably because I was really slowing down at this point) but my boyfriend was going along at a good pace and then had to zig zag around people the rest of the race. He found it frustrating to have to alter his pace because of the crowd 16 miles into the race. -Complete chaos at finish. I couldn't find the reunion tents with letters on them to meet up with family and it was really packed with people and hard to navigate. -Finish line was weird. There were tons of spectators throughout the course but then at the finish is was very light because (I was told) there was no way to get to the finish area to watch. There also wasn't much support (people showing you where to go etc.). You had to sort of figure it out yourself. Thing to consider: -Almost entire course was hills. Only major flat spot was a lake loop near mile 20. There was one other small flat spot because I remember thinking 'I feel weird, oh it's because I'm not on a hill'. -Very windy. Not sure if it is always like that but made it even more challenging and kept my arms cold.

Philadelphia:

PROS: -Philly is a great city to visit and tour around. -The course is diverse (downtown, South Philly, 2 rivers, Fairmount Park, and Manayunk) and relatively flat compared to other big-city marathons. Some did not like the out-and-back at Falls Bridge and MLK Jr. Drive, but I'll take that over Lemon Hill any day. (It's called Lemon "Hill" for a reason.) -The spectators are very enthusiastic and supportive. Great music, dancers, costumes, and signs that made me laugh out loud. -The expo is not overwhelmingly large, and is well-organized. The long-sleeve, technical shirt and drawstring fabric bag were a nice touch. -Friendly and supportive team of volunteers (thank you, volunteers!) -Convenient switch from D-tags to B-tags (it's 1 fewer thing to worry about on race morning). -Easy transportation to the start/finish area via SEPTA. -Quick and efficient bag-check at the UPS trucks. -Decent number of port-a-johns at the start/finish. -Good crowd control this time at the finish line. The barricades gave runners plenty of space near the finish. -Attractive finisher's medal. CONS: -The corrals are still a problem. The beginning and end of the color-coded corrals needed to be better delineated. The corrals should probably be better enforced, as well. My wave had trouble trying to get to the starting line because eager beaver runners trying to get ahead, or because of runners who were just confused about where to stand and were in the wrong corrals and blocking other waves from being able to move forward. Even though your time does not start until you cross the starting line, I think most runners still prefer to run with others who run at/about the same pace. That seems to be the whole point of the corral system. It might also be beneficial to leave more gaps between the metal barricades along the corrals because I witnessed several runners trying to get into their corrals by jumping over the railings. There should be an easier and safer way for runners to get into their corrals. -There was a slight mix-up with the e-mail race confirmation initially sent, but it was quickly remedied. -Volunteers are certainly necessary and appreciated; without them there'd be no race. But, perhaps the race directors could provide a general instruction to try to keep gloves and fingers out of the H20 and Gatorade when handing out cups to the runners. (A minor point, I know, but my pet peeve.) At mile 23 I might drink H20 and Gatorade from cups handed out by volunteers with a lint-balled glove, hangnail, or chewed fingernail inside the cup because I'm tired and thirsty. But, I'd rather not.

Hartford:

PROS 1. Excellent course support. Not only were there plentiful aid stations, there was lots of bike support and the cyclists carried gels, etc to hand out to runners that needed them 2. Volunteers were well taken care of - they had at least one golf cart with coffee and donuts that drove up and down the course just to support the course marshals. Also all volunteers got a really nice jersey (not the $3 t-shirt most events give their volunteers) 3. They kept the mats down long after the official course close. With a 6 hour course cutoff, the last runner finished at 7:40. While I don't necessarily like folks staying out that long after the official close, it was good to see them not abandon runners or force them to quit. 4. Plenty of live music on the course. and the bagpipes are always fun - they had at least three separate pipers. CONS 1. Expo was a little small / disappointing. It was also not set up well for the vendors (i.e. have the shirt pickup at the far end to get everyone to walk through) so those who paid but ended up on the back row had very little traffic. 2. What was up with those (official) motorcycles? Did they really have to drive all the way up through all the packed runners massed at the start line? Only to wait just past the start for us all to run by them? And did they really have to park on the narrowest part of the course (the middle of the greenway) instead of off to the side? 3. Not a lot of spectators. With us running through neighborhoods I was surprised that more folks weren't out to cheer us on.

Has anybody run one of these and have an opinion one way or the other?

The Cellcom Green Bay Marathon Debacle

I had been registered for the event since the end of November.  I had put in weeks upon weeks of slow, long runs, tempo runs, and Fartleks.  I had attempted (major emphasis on attempted) to eat better to drop a few pounds so I would be a lean, mean running machine.  So when I made it past the halfway point of the Cellcom Green Bay Marathon only to find out that the course was closed and everyone was being shuttled back to the Lambeau Field parking lot, I was just a tad bit irritated.  To be completely frank, a small part of me was relieved at the news.  It was hot out, and I'm sure I had lost a man's share of sweat and electrolytes during the first few hours on the course.  The electrolyte capsules I had stored away in my pack had actually melted - as had my hopes for finishing in my pre-race goal time or any respectable time, for that matter.  But in the end, I was just upset that I had put in so much work and now have nothing to show for it.

Pre-race at Lambeau Field

The day started innocuously enough.  In the pre-race dawn, the weather was admittedly warm, but not stifling.  The anticipation of running my first marathon had butterflies flitting around my stomach while I focused on reviewing my race plan in my head.  I barely broke a sweat doing some warm-up strides, and felt like I was adequately hydrated to handle whatever the weather could throw at us.  At the end of the countdown when the horn sounded and we charged through the starting line, I was confident that the day would end with a medal around my neck, a beer in my hand, and a feeling of satisfaction at having completed something tremendously difficult.

Within the first two miles, I was hanging somewhere between the 3:45 and 3:55 pacing groups.  I thought that I shouldn't push the pace if it indeed was going to be as uncomfortably humid as was forecast, and finishing under 4 hours would be a good back-up goal.  The first miles of the race wound around the residential area in the vicinity of Lambeau Field, and I must say that I was impressed with the crowds considering the 7 am start time.  The combination of heat, humidity, and nerves from the race had my sweat glands working overtime and by mile 3, my shirt was soaked through with sweat.  By the 5 mile timing mat, I was at 44:24 (on pace to finish in 3:55), and even though I was going at a leisurely pace, I felt the need to stop and walk shortly thereafter.  At the first few fluid stations, I was trying to find a balance between consuming enough fluid and limiting the amount of stomach jiggling that would inevitably come with over-hydrating.  The next 5 miles were a sweat-soaked combination of walking, running, and an awkward half-trot somewhere in between.

Around mile 11 is where I discovered my electrolyte capsules had melted, so I stopped at a medical tent to get some more.  When I stopped, I discovered they had an abundance of ice at the tent, something they had been lacking at the previous fluid stations.  "Do you want to sit in the shade with a bag of ice for a few minutes?" the med volunteer asked.  "YES!" That sounded like the best thing in the world at that point, so I spent 3 or 4 minutes in the shade, letting the ice drip down over my overheated head.  A mile down the road is where the course diverted into the different full and half courses.  Now, a few days prior to the race, the organizers had said that full marathon participants could run the half without being disqualified.  So as I approached the fork the road, I was faced with a dilemma: turn left for the half course, which represented a sure finish, a quicker route to a cold beer, and less exposure to the ever-rising sun, or turn right for the full and finish what I had started.  I decided to stick with the full course.  I had come all the way back home for this race, I was going to finish.

But then I arrived at the 13.1 timing mat.  "Just so you know, the course is closed ahead.  They're shuttling runners back to Lambeau," the volunteer at the mat informed me.  I gave a little bit of a chuckle.  Yeah, it was getting really hot, but surely they wouldn't shut everything down in the middle of the race.  Sure enough, when I arrived at the next aid station, a voice over a loudspeaker was explaining how there were no more ambulances to carry heat exhausted runners to emergency rooms, and medical resources at the finish line were being stressed to their limits.  They had turned off the timing mats, and all times over 2:35:00 would be unofficial.  I decided to follow the lead of a few bold runners who were continuing on the course, and made it another 1.5 miles or so before the next set of volunteers insisted that the course was closing, fluid stations would be packing up soon, and the finish line was barricaded.  No point in going on.  Though I had lost the weight of a Thanksgiving turkey in sweat at this point and my legs were tightening up, I knew that I could get across the finish line one way or another.  But without a course, fluid stations, or a finish line, there's not really a point, is there?  Later on, I would read about runners who managed to finish the course despite all the warnings from volunteers and closures along the course.  The asterisk that should accompany these runners is that many had several friends or family members willing to run alongside them, carrying Gatorade and energy gels and ensuring their runner didn't pass out as they unofficially finished their marathon in the sweltering heat. To those runners who finished the course, I give my sincerest congratulations.  For the other runners like me who didn't have that kind of outside support ready to roll, it was a supremely disappointing way to end an important race.

Now for me to rant a little bit more and ascribe some blame for what happened on the marathon course that day.  The first and easiest person to blame for lack of preparedness is the race director.  After all, they knew that hot weather was coming and even though there were extra preparations in place, it should never come down to cancelling a race that is in progress.  I (and likely many others) would have preferred that the race be cancelled ahead of time, so I would have been upset but just ran the half marathon instead.  This is actually what ended up happening a week later at the Madison Marathon, and there was much less of an uproar over that cancellation.  But I actually do not blame the race director, and in fact commend him for making the call that he did.  Sure, a lot of people (like me) were really disappointed with not being able to finish the race which required months of training and preparation, but it was a safe way to handle the rising temperatures and heat-exhausted runners.

Another guilty entity may be the number of runners who decided to ignore the fact that conditions would make racing difficult and still ran hard and went for PR's and BQ's.  Assuredly, some of the runners who required serious medical treatment were in this demographic, but obviously many of the other runners receiving treatment were runners who just weren't acclimated to the heat.  While they are stubborn for trying to push their pace on a tremendously hot day, it's hard to say that I wouldn't do the same thing.  As Amanda pointed out to me, I was being stubborn by staying out on the course beyond the first point they tried to stop me.  Most serious runners have an implacable sense of determination to finish what they started, regardless of the consequences.  They knew it could be damaging to remain out in the heat any longer, but their drive to have a strong finish overrided their basic physiologic needs.

In my mind, there is not one party that should assume more guilt than another for the cancellation of the race.  It was the perfect storm of crazy weather, improper planning, and runner stubbornness that created the need to get runners off of the course and limit the amount of heat-related injuries that were occurring.  Though the race itself was a disaster, I would love to run Green Bay again in the future.  The crowd support throughout the course (at least the part of the course that was open) was phenomenal.  I even saw Green Bay Packers kicker Mason Crosby standing outside of what I presume was his home, cheering on runners.  Though hopefully next time I set foot on the Green Bay course, I will have a marathon or two under my belt.

Additional readings and photos:
Cellcom Green Bay Marathon halted because of heat

Race Director Responds to Participants

The Starting Line

Hello world!  If you are reading this, at this point in my blogging it probably means that you have wandered off the beaten path of the interwebs and are lost in the forbidden forest comprised of 1) new bloggers who think their words fall upon expectant ears, 2) "artful" pictures of cats, food, or first-person views of a lady's legs whilst lounging poolside, and/or 3) Twilight fan-fiction.  I fall into the first category, though to forewarn you, my rambling and oft-incoherent writing may be more readily categorized into the third option listed above.

Marathon "Finisher" - in that I finished as
much of the course as they would let me

The main purpose of my writing here and now is that I wanted an outlet to vent, cheer, review, and occasionally boast about my personal adventures in running.  Most of the next several months will be focused on training for my first marathon, and the highs and lows that will inevitably accompany my training.  I don't fancy myself a tremendous athlete; I've only been running for about two years, and I still find myself firmly entrenched in the middle to middle-back of most running packs.  However, I will still try and provide some perspective on the world of running through my mediocrity.

A good starting point for this blog is to mention that I was supposed to have finished my first marathon by this point.  I was recently in the Cellcom Green Bay Marathon on May 20th, and found out about halfway through that the course was closing due to the heat and humidity causing heat exhaustion and other heat-related injuries.  The volunteers told me that the county was rapidly running out of ambulances to transport runners, and the medical staff was overwhelmed at the finish line.  Disgruntled and disappointed, I dragged my feet another 1.5 miles or so before the next set of volunteers insisted the course was really closing, including fluid stations, so there was no point in going on.  15 miles into my first marathon, I was forced to stop due to the medical director's decision.  I will write about this at length in another post, but for now suffice it to say that I am not yet a marathoner.

More to come later this week.  But for now, thank you for finding my blog, however you came across it.