The June running race series is complete

I ran my third race of June today, a half marathon. I was worried about how I'd do in the 7 miler I ran two weekends ago, and I was worried about how I'd do in the 10 miler I ran last weekend, so it just makes sense that I'd be worried about how I'd do in this race too. As it went two weeks ago, and again last week, there seems to have been questionable basis for my worry since I set a new half marathon PR by 4+ minutes today (unofficially).

More later when I get a little more time...

Tapping your toes while you run isn't the point of listening to music

I have to admit that I'm in a rut. A running music rut. I'm getting old, and I don't think 90% of the music put out in the last 10 years is worth the time it took it record it, so it seems that I'm always just spinning my wheels trying to find something new to push me just a little further or a little faster down the road. I mean, Justin Bieber? Lady Gaga? Ke$ha? Pussycat Dolls? The Hannah Montana girl? Please. Even the bands I used to like suck these days. Metallica is not the Metallica I knew. U2 is not the U2 I knew. Whatever happened to R.E.M.? Ice Cube went from being "the n*gga ya love to hate" to the upstanding gentleman whose family movies you should take your kids to see.

This is the one song I've discovered in the last couple of years that I really like:


And where did I find this song? In my son's MLB 10 The Show baseball video game. It's interesting that a video game can introduce you to new music, but we need video games to introduce us to new music? Unfortunately, "All In" is about as good as it gets between and The Grouch and Eligh and me because nothing else of their resonates with me.

I have hundreds of songs on my little mp3 player that I listen to only when I run and I can only stand maybe 10-20 of them, and only a couple of those were even made in the current century.

Maybe if I was a more capable runner music wouldn't matter because I'd be competitive and disallowed from listening to music at races at the risk of being disqualified from prizes. "Luckily," I don't have that problem. So it's a constant struggle to find music that a) motivates me to run, and b) doesn't make me feel like a greasy old man for listening to it. Oddly, it's not that easy.

I hope that some magical running music fairy will float over me in my sleep and sprinkle some dust on me that'll allow me to find foot-moving music with ease when I wake up and my little 2GB mp3 player will collapse under the weight of my trying to stuff so many tunes into it.

I should just stop being fuddy and duddy and give in to the audio stylings of "Baby." Yeah, and maybe there really are magical running music fairies who can sprinkle dust on me while I sleep...

A Moron runs the Baltimore 10 Miler. Again.

2010 Baltimore 10 Miler.
Short take on the 2010 Baltimore 10 Miler

For the first time out of three times I've run the Baltimore 10 Miler I did not leave the race completely demoralized and wondering why in the world I bother to run because this experience sucked all of the joy out of it for me. I was nowhere close to PR territory or anything, but I did two things I've never done there before: not take walk breaks and finish in under 1:30:00. It was a well-run race for me.

Long take on the 2010 Baltimore 10 Miler

I think the Baltimore 10 Miler is the most intimidating race I run. You never know what's going on with the weather, for one thing. It could be very hot, or it could be very wet, or it could be both, plus humid. It's also one of the hillier races I run. The hills aren't killer mountains or anything, but the last two miles are mostly uphill, and you get to them just when the sun and its heat are hitting their stride for the day.

But for once I feel good about my performance there. And there's a big reason why.

They changed the course some between miles 6 and 8. This is what we ran last year:


The red line alone the top (33rd St.) was how we went back last year.
This is this year's route:


Back along the same route as we went out, and not hitting Art Museum Dr. at all.
It looks fairly innocuous, but it's not. This is what broke me last year:


Those hills feature a 5% grade going up according to MapMyRun.com.
And this is what I breezed through this year:


Easy peasy!
Don't get me wrong, there were hills to come in the last couple of miles after this stretch, but changing this part of the race made all the difference in the world for me. I spent the entire race slowing down in preparation for mile 7 on, and once I got past this part and up the hill you can see toward the right of these elevation charts, I started to ask myself why I was still bothering to reign it in. I picked up the pace over the last couple of miles, hills included, and passed more people than I have in any race I've ever run, I believe.

Notes

1. The race village was set up a little differently this year too, and it featured the port-a-potties lining both sides of the starting corrals. That made for a pretty interesting smell.


2. Props to the race organizers for the number of water stops. There had to be at least six or seven over the course of the 10 miles, with probably one in each of the last three miles. I could have run this race without my dork hydration belt if I'd have known how well they'd have hydration covered.


3. I was looking for a cup of water at a stop around mile 8, and I was about to grab one from a lady passing them out when she yanked it back and handed it to someone behind me, saying, "Here, take another cup." I was like what the hell lady. Don't tease a man with water like that.


4. My Garmin read 1.08 miles at the mile 1 marker. It read 8.00 miles at the mile 8 marker, and I crossed the finish line according to it at 10.09 miles. It's not as egregious as last year, and within the margin of error I allow due to my not always running the tangents really well, but sheesh I think they need help measuring this course. On the other hand, my Garmin measured last week's race .08 mile short, so I guess this makes up for that.


5. Before the race they asked everyone to remove their hats so they could play the national anthem. A couple girls up ahead of me didn't, and looking at them it appeared to be less a sign of disrespect than the fact that they needed to consult aerodynamic engineers to wear hats at all seeing how intricately their hair was intertwined with them. And once again I was thankful that I'm a man.


6. I talked to a guy before the race who was running completely barefoot. He said it was his first time running without anything on his feet, and he offered suggestions on how to get started. Interesting little conversation. While we were talking a photographer asked to take our picture and he did, but it was weird because we're complete strangers standing there like we're buddies. I might post the picture when it comes out, but Mr. Barefoot was built and looked like a model and I'm not sure I want to be judged standing next to him.


7. I appreciate the offer of two free beers after the race, but I just can't get into drinking at 9:00 am. I'm just getting too old for that, I guess.


8. My Garmin time was 1:27:55 for 10.09 miles. Last year's Garmin time was 1:37:30 for 10.26 miles. In 2008, it was 1:39:23 for 10.12 miles. I might have broken 1:35:00 last year if they hadn't measured the course a quarter mile long, but I didn't think I'd ever break 1:30:00 at the Baltimore 10 Miler. But I did, and to be honest I'm kind of kicking myself for not pushing it a little harder than I did. A race that beat you down for two years will do that to you, I guess.


9. Some time between mile 7 and mile 8 I came up on a lady who looked familiar. I thought, "hmmm, that looks like her, but I don't know anything about her being a runner." And when I got up closer, sure enough it was her! I was like, "Hey!" and she was like "Hey." I could tell she was struggling (might have been one of those people who flew by me in the first couple of miles) and didn't want to bother her, so I just told her to keep it up and went on my way. Then I had the added pressure to not let her pass me back up, but she didn't, and I think I had way more left in the tank than she did.

Every year I run the Baltimore 10 Miler and every year I say I'm not running it again. After this year I'm not willing to say this isn't a race for me. It helps that it wasn't anywhere near as hot and humid as was forecast (during that part of the day, at least), but it also helps that the course that had been dubbed "challenging but fair" by the organizers was made more "fair" and less "challenging" than in past years, and while I always say I'm not running the race again I always do, and I'm sure that as long as I'm able and in the area I always will.

So if I didn't see you there this year I probably will next year.

Baltimore 10 Miler questions answered

Occasionally I'll look and see if anyone actually reads this blog, which I did last night and discovered that there are a lot of people searching for information regarding the Baltimore 10 Miler (B-10) that's being held this weekend. As a public service (and shameless attempt to generate traffic for the next couple of days), I am providing a middle of the packer's answers to your B-10 questions.

1. I've run the B-10 both of the years its been held. See my impressions of those races here and here, featuring elevation diagrams.


2. Is the B-10 hilly?
   Yes. Truthfully, the first couple of miles are downhill-ish and the 1.25 miles or so around Lake Montebello are flat, but the rest of it is a roller coaster of hills and the last two miles are mostly uphill.


3. Will it be hot?
   Yes. And there's very little shade over the middle 6 miles, and not much more over the other 4.


4. Can I set a PR at the B-10?
   If you're a machine. If you're human and not a really very strong runner in hot, humid conditions on a challenging course, probably not. My 10M PR is 1:23:49. I've yet to break 1:33:00 in the B-10.


5. Is the B-10 well run?
   Yeah, it really is. In the two times I've run it I haven't any problems driving, parking, leaving, starting, running, hydrating, getting shuttled through the finish line area, etc. That's not to say no one has had problems, but I haven't. They also feature watermelon and cold washcloths when you finish, which is a nice touch.


6. Is the race premium as good as claimed?
   Last year they gave out waterproof running jackets that I absolutely love and think is the best premium I've gotten in the dozens of races I've run over the last 3+ years. I'm interested to see how this year's premium matches up to last year's.


7. Why do they give you your race premium after you finish the race?
   Beats me. They don't even do anything to make sure you finished when you go to pick it up.


8. Who's idea was it to put together a hilly 10 miler in Baltimore in the latter part of June?
   I don't know, but my guess is it's one of the more sadistic people in town.

As for me, I've revised my goals/expectations downward for this year's B-10. I am not a hot weather, high humidity runner and it's going to be both very hot and very humid, so my goal was to just complete the run without taking walk breaks. Now my goal is to cross the finish line. I'm going to run a nice, easy 9:00/mile pace for as long as I can and if I have to take walk breaks so be it. It's difficult for me to set that as my race plan when just a couple months ago I ran the Cherry Blossom 10 Miler at well under an 8:30/mile pace, but that course is mostly flat and it wasn't 90 degrees out. You do what you gotta do, I guess. Also, I'm wearing my dork hydration belt, because I never know when I'm going to get thirsty.

If you're running the Baltimore 10 Miler this weekend, good luck! You're going to need it.

Fun with race literature

Like most people who sign up for and run local 5Ks and the like, I get mailings pretty often inviting me to participate in more local 5Ks and the like. Most of the time I'll already know about the race and blow it off because it doesn't work in to whatever training schedule I'm following at the time to complete some dumb thing I have no business attempting. I'll skim over it then toss it in the trash. But I got one today that made me stare a little harder:


It's not obvious, but all race identifying info has been masked.
Usually when I get race literature in the mail it'll feature the same as everything else in the world that's trying to sell you on an idea: beautiful people doing it without breaking a sweat. But this pamphlet looks like it's using the back of the back of the packers to draw interest to the event. None of the people front and center look like avid runners.

So it got me to thinking. Is this brilliant? Someone could look at it and think, 'here are these ordinary people doing something that takes some drive and effort. If they can do it, why can't I?'

On the other hand, it's hard to not think, 'look at the wide load on that guy!'

But in the end, this is what struck me hardest:


They've gone "green" by not including a registration form on one of the eight full color, heavy stock pages of the pamphlet they sent out through the mail and require people to go to their web site to print their own forms and mail them if they choose to not register online. Which uses more paper and more energy than including it in this pamphlet would have used.

In fact, they could have put the registration form on the panel they wasted bragging about how environmentally conscious they are. Just sayin'.

Making it a little more clear

It struck me, late as usual, that it might be a good idea to provide some context to the whining I did about the water bottle I got as a premium for the Survivor Harbor 7 race. So here it is next to my first-string water bottle. Look at those openings and tell me which one is actually designed to be drunk from:


Drinkable water bottle on the left, shirt soaker on the right.
I know, right?

Sometimes race premiums aren't quite so premium

The Survivor Harbor 7 goes unconventional with its race premiums. Last year they gave out a pair of socks (which I love, but not for running). This year it was a stainless steel water bottle. I don't get these newfangled "green" water vessels because they're not insulated and don't keep anything cold, but they're all the rage. Here's what the SH7's looks like:


It's pretty nice for what it is, and I'm jacking up the hydration this week in anticipation of losing lots of water weight on Saturday, so I filled it as a second string water bottle to go with the one I take to work every day and off I went.

And then I hit a wall in its usefulness. While the bottle is nice, the mouth of it is too big and I can't drink from it without spilling water all over my shirt. This is what the opening looks like:


It might be a little hard to tell, but the mouth of the bottle is almost as wide as the bottle itself. I've been told I have a pretty big mouth, but come on. I suppose the large circumference is to allow for easy insertion of ice to compensate for the lack of insulation, but for me it just made a big mess.

To counteract the bottle's dampening of my shirt effect I have to pour its contents out into a decidedly non-green paper or *gasp* styrofoam cup and drink my water like an earth-hating heathen.

I don't know what's in store as a race premium for SH7 participants next year, but I'm hoping for either a special cap to make drinking out of the bottle easier, or a sock to go over the bottle. That'd be awesome.

The goal is to just survive the Survivor Harbor 7, apparently

Long post. You're warned.

This morning I ran the Survivor Harbor 7 (miler) in Baltimore. It's truly one of my favorite race courses, and the "Survivor" part is not meaningless. The race provides competitive divisions for major illness (such as cancer) survivors as well as one for paraplegics. It's the second time I've run this race, and basically everything I wrote about last year applies this year, so I'm not going to rehash all of that nonsense.


Paraplegics starting their SH7 race. Pic from here.
I will talk about the run though. This race has to be the hottest race I can remember running. It started at 8:00am, but it's a point-to-point race and I chose to park at the finish and catch the shuttle to the start, which meant I was sitting around while it got hotter and hotter for over an hour before the race started. When I got there at 6:15am it was 74 degrees and very humid. By 8:00am it had to be at least 80-85 degrees.

My goal was to maintain an 8:15 pace. Knowing how hard the last two miles hit me last year when I started off too fast then, I did all I could to stay on my pace. I ran the first mile in 8:20, which was good enough. The next two were run in 8:04 and 8:07, and, knowing I'd be in big trouble if I kept that up, the fourth mile was run in 8:25. After those four miles my average pace was 8:14, which was right where I wanted to be. The question was would I be able to maintain it over the last three miles, which were decidedly sunnier, hotter and more humid than any of the first few miles.

Over time I think my average pace got as slow as 8:20. It was with a little more than a mile to go and I was burning up. But I decided I was just going to do whatever it took to not stop running because as long as I didn't stop I felt I was in pretty good shape.

And that proved to be the case. There was a little uphill section and then the last half mile or so was either flat or down hill. I got my act together, picked up the pace, and managed to finish over two minutes faster than last year. Last year I finished in 59:07. This year I crossed the finish line at 57:03 (unofficially... still waiting for results to be posted).

BUT! This time is tainted by the fact that, like last year, the course was measured a little short. Last year my Garmin recorded a distance of 6.97 miles. This year it only registered at 6.92 miles. So there's .08 mile that's unaccounted for.


2010 Survivor Harbor 7 race route.
I have to admit that I did a fine job running the tangents because I passed more than a couple people by running to the inside of curves and turns and such, but that should have kept me to 7.00 and not put me under. I looked at the data and saw that I ran the last .92 mile at an 8:09/mile pace, and if I would have maintained that pace for another .08 mile -- which I'm fairly sure I could have -- I'd have finished the race 43 seconds slower. So while I can only run the race on the course that's marked, I believe my time should have been closer to 57:46. That's still a pretty nice improvement over last year, especially under the harsh conditions, and I'll take it.

For fun, I've culled some Survivor Harbor 7 reaction from the Twitterverse:

edb26: OMG Survivor Harbor 7 was BRUTAL.

weeniers: 7-mile Harbor Survivor in 75:25. It was really, really freakin' hot.

Craiglindemann: SURVIVOR Harbor 7 aptly name. Brutal out there today.

Quite a few people wound up walking during this race, but they weren't falling out all over the place like they were at the Frederick Half Marathon, which is a good thing. I saw a couple people getting treated for heat exhaustion in the finish line area, but that was about as bad as it got.

Here are a few quick notes about the race:

• Last year Whole Foods had a great tent set up in the finish line area with all kinds of goodies available. This year they had no presence at all. Boo.


• Ice cold post-race watermelon is the shizzle!


• Juggle five balls while running guy was there, and I actually saw him drop a ball while running!


• They altered the course slightly where we didn't get to run the entire Harborplace promenade like I remember from last year. That was kind of disappointing.


• I saw mile markers for miles 3 and 5 and they weren't at mile 3 or mile 5 per my Garmin.

So ends this year's Survivor Harbor 7. Next weekend is the Baltimore 10 Miler, which can be every bit as hot and miserable as the SH7, but with the added bonus of two miles worth of hills to finish the race. I've decided to not set any goals for that race other than to not take any walk breaks, and if Saturday is anything like today that means I'm going to have slow things WAY down to speeds I haven't seen in quite a while.

More on that as that race draws nearer...

Small talk that makes you feel small

I did something today that struck me as weird: I picked up my bib number for a race I'm running after my next race before I'm even able to pick up the bib number for that one. Who ever heard of a packet pick-up 10 days before a race?


One of these race logos is a little eager to distribute bib numbers, and it's not the one on the left.
Anyway, the location was at a running store and they were offering 10% off for people coming in to get their numbers for the Baltimore 10 Miler. I took advantage to pick up another pair of socks that I like a lot, and when I went to check out, this conversation went down-

Store Clerk (SC): Is this your first time running the Baltimore 10 Miler?

Me: No, it'll be my third time.

SC: Really. So you've run them all, huh?

Me: Yep. Every year I tell myself I'm not doing that again and yet here I am.

SC: I've heard it's pretty hilly.

Me: And hot. Or wet. Or the route's mis-measured. It's no Cherry Blossom.

SC: Yeah, the Cherry Blossom is great. I've decided that as long as I make my time there I'm going to keep running it.

Me: ??? [My look must have said, "Whuchoo talkin' 'bout, Willis?"]

SC: If you can run the Cherry Blossom in under 54 minutes they'll give you free entry the following year.

Me: Oh, well there's no threat of me ever worrying about that.

I've run the Cherry Blossom 10 Miler twice. I've set 10 Mile personal record times there twice. And this guy made me feel like a total slug in that race.

I don't think running can ever be as frustrating as a sport such as golf, but there are times when you think about how far you've come and realize that it's still light years from where other people are and you'll most likely never make it to their galaxy. What can you do.

Heat and humidity is not my friend, friend

This weekend my long run was supposed to be a 15K (9.3 mile) race. It's really hard to find a 15K around here, and there were no 10 milers nearby, so I went off on my own to try to maintain a nice pace.

I wanted to run about 8:15/mile because I have a 7 mile race this weekend that I ran at about an 8:30/mile pace last year and I think I can beat that. The good news is that I indeed maintained the pace for the first 7 miles. The bad news is that the last 2.3 miles nearly killed me and my splits for miles 8 and 9 were 8:24 and 8:40. Yeesh.

The cause for the quickly diminishing performance was the heat and humidity. It was 75 degrees when I started and quite humid. The only thing it wasn't was sunny. Knowing that, I can't be too too upset because it's extremely hard for me to run when it's too warm or too humid. Put them together and I'm toast. But I think I should be ok for the race on Sunday. I believe I should at least be able to match last year's performance. I hope. Maybe. If there's a god it'll be overcast and 50 degrees out, but I'm not holding my breath.

I was out running on the trusty NCR trail and noticed a new wire fence right next to the path that leads to the trail. When I came back from my run I saw what it was there for. To keep the spectator crowd back:


Hard to tell from the crap iPhone pics, but there are horses and steers/cows next to the Trail now.
And here's an off-topic rant for the moment. The NCR Trail is mostly self-maintained. You're not supposed to leave trash there (there are no trash cans and I can't tell you how many empty Gu packets I've put through the wash because I forgot I put them into my shorts pocket) and you're supposed to pick up after your pets. When I started my run along the part of the trail that most people walk/run/bike upon, I noticed all these little baggies with doggie doo in them laying along the side of the trail. There were at least 3 or 4 of them. So people took the time to pick up after their pets, which is pretty gross if you think about it, but couldn't be bothered to dispose of the disposed appropriately? What is the sense of that? And they couldn't like fling it off the trail, but left it right along side of it?

Thankfully for those of us who aren't gross and inconsiderate but don't do much more than use the great resource the trail provides, there's a small cadre of people who take it upon themselves to maintain the areas around the trail heads. They're mostly older, mostly local to the neighborhoods around the trail, and mostly saints. By the time I got back to where I started the doo bags were gone. The people who maintain the area probably don't get thanked for what they do, but I'm going to make it a point to thank them whenever I run across one of them again.

Safety first, appearances last

I understand that reflective vests are used for function and not for form. And I understand that when you run without one in poor light conditions you're basically taking your personal safety into your own hands, and I have yet to see a guy running about 7.5 miles an hour who could get the best of any car going 30 MPH or more. So while I feel like a dog wearing one of those radar dishes around its neck I do it anyway because while I know I'm going to die at some point I don't want to die while running at night because I was too cool to make myself seen by oncoming traffic.

However, I was driving home from little league the other night, intending to get an easy three mile run in while there was still at least a couple of rays of light in the sky, when I saw a lady running on the side of the road wearing the same vest that I wear. And I saw just how ridiculous a person looks wearing that thing. This poor lady gave off the most uncool impression of any person I've ever seen running ever. And to make matters worse she was also sporting a four-bottle fuel belt. Apart, a reflective vest and a hydration belt knock a few cool points off your tally. Together, no cool points can survive.


I didn't know whether to laugh at the lady or empathize with her. And then when I got home I thought seriously about forgetting the vest. I started to rationalize that I could just stay on sidewalks, or I could stick on roads that are wide and barren and it'd be all good. Alas, I know that's not necessarily true, and I still want to come back from even the shortest, easiest runs.

So I strapped that sucker on, picked my chin up, and took off. I wore the reflective vest for all 3.2 uncool miles.

And then I ripped it off the second I knew I didn't need it anymore. Because I still want to maintain at least a semblance of being cool at least some of the time.

Long weekends and long runs

Whenever I go away I always wonder how or if I'll get in my workouts. This past weekend was no different. I was going away for four full days knowing that I'd be running around (and eating) like a maniac and I was supposed to fit in three runs according to my training schedule in that time, including a 1:45:00 long run (which works out to about 12 miles). Luckily, or cursedly, I'm OCD enough when it comes to running to make sure I build in the time. Here's how I did it:

Thursday, drive day to upstate NY

I worked late on Wednesday in order to get an early jump on the 5 1/2 hour drive and needed to fit in a 50 minute tempo run. I left the very second I could from work, sped to the gym, put in my time on a treadmill, got showered and changed, ran home, loaded the van and took off. We actually shoved off a few minutes earlier than expected.


This is a scene from the town where I spent Memorial Day weekend. I have no idea where it was taken.
Friday

I was staying outside of Albany, NY and was headed over to Cooperstown for the day to visit the Baseball Hall of Fame. Friday is usually my rest day, but I needed Saturday off instead, so I woke up early and ran my 5 scheduled miles before anyone woke up. It was as good run, although I misguesstimated the length of the route and when I got to 5 miles I still had more than a mile left to get back home. I try not to over do these runs because they precede long runs, so I did a combination of walking and jogging the rest of the way back. That kind of sucked.


Me and immortality. Taken by my son, who could use a lesson in framing and perspective.
Saturday

Rest day, which was good because we were on the road for the 2 1/2 hour drive back down to New York City by 6:30 am. Did plenty of walking all day, and when we got back there was still some light left, so I drove the 12+ mile loop route I had mapped out for Sunday's long run to make sure I wouldn't get lost, which isn't unprecedented for me up there. I drove it once with a map/GPS and once without to make sure I had it down. You'd think a loop route would be easy enough to run, but then we're talking about me. One takeaway from scouting the route: I was in for some hills. Yay.


Dim sum in the city. Or is that dim YUM!?
Sunday

The plan was for it to be a pretty relaxed day, so it was a good day for a long run. However, the sun rises earlier up there than it does where I live, so it already very bright and warm and getting warmer when I took off at about 6:30. They were forecasting sunshine all day and a high around 90, so I was a little worried about that.

I just took it very easy to start, at about an 8:40 pace and got past the first couple of decent hills in the first few miles with relative ease. I never got lost, but the roads seemed a heck of a lot longer running them than driving them (duh), and I was wondering when I'd ever get to the end of one road to turn on to another.


My long run in unfamiliar territory.
It did get progressively warmer as the run went on, but I felt pretty good. Whenever you're out doing a long run you sometimes get to a point where you know you have some distance left, say 3 or so miles, but you realize that as long as you keep going the way you're going you're going to be fine for however much run you have left. I got that feeling somewhere between miles 9 and 10, and my splits reflected that. I sweated a LOT, but my last mile was faster than my first and I finished 12.18 miles with a respectable (for me) 8:37/mile average pace. It was warm and I wasn't trying to kill myself. I even had some water left in my dork hydration belt and only needed one gel during the run. Even better, the route I mapped out for the run was almost perfect. I finished the route at about 1:43:45 and had to run past home to get to 1:45:00, but that was fine because it allowed me some space to walk around and cool down.

One note: I packed my iPhone in my dork hydration belt in case I got lost 6 miles from home and needed to be rescued, and what I discovered is that the added weight made my belt bounce around a LOT! I had to make that thing about as tight as I could to keep it from doing so. I won't do that again. I'd almost rather be lost and stranded miles from home than have a belt bouncing up and down and rubbing my lower back raw.

Monday, drive day home

The plan was to leave by about 10:00 am for the long journey home, but I had three easy miles to do and I decided to do them in the morning in NY while I was fresh rather than in the evening at home after driving all day. For the first mile my legs felt like someone poured concrete in them, so I was thankful I decided to get the run out of the way when I did. But by the time I finished a total of 3.22 miles my legs felt fine and I ran the last mile almost 30 seconds faster than my first. Can't ask for much more than that.

And now I'm back to the grind. Today's speedwork and next weekend is my next race, a 7 miler when I'm scheduled to run two hours that day. That works out well. :-/