A few minutes with Adriana Pirtea

Adriana Pirtea, 29, was a surprise showing at the Mini 10K press event. She wasn’t on the roster, so I hadn’t researched her. But I knew three things about her: she’s originally from Romania, she lives and trains in Colorado (Fort Collins), and she was nipped in the last 50 meters by Berhane Adere at the 2007 Chicago Marathon, where Pirtea’s mistake was celebrating her win too early at what, up until that moment, had been a dream debut at the distance. Since dredging up a bad memory is a terrible way to get someone to open up to you, I decided to not mention Chicago (even though I was dying to). Instead, I decided try out some of the more oddball questions I had, to see what I’d get. One piece of exciting news: Pirtea is going to become a US citizen in November, so we’ll have another very fast import soon.

10th, London 2008, with a 2:28.

What do you think about when you’re racing?
Many things. When you’re in a race, you know how you’ve prepared and what kind of speed you want to go. If you’re thinking about the marathon, then it’s a long way. I actually have almost no time to think of anything else but just to keep myself in the rhythm.

So you’re in the moment when you’re running.
Yes. I just watch my competitors. If I struggle a little bit, I try to come back. If I go too fast, just go back in the rhythm so I don’t waste my energy too much. That’s kind of it. It’s almost like you think too much of the race over the moment. People say, “Do you think of everything you’ve done in your life in the marathon?” It’s not like that. It’s just keeping your body motivated and being able to keep the pace up to the end of the race.

Are you breaking the race up into different sections, or are you running mile by mile?
You know, it depends. A couple races were such a tactical race, very slow. Sometimes you feel very fit and trained. This might be a mistake, to stay at a slow pace. It happened to me a couple of times, and I blamed myself. Why didn’t I go faster, to make my own pace? But sometimes a race can be a fartlek, where people try to get rid of the other ones. Most of the time, it’s a good race if — like Magdalena [in Rotterdam] — you can be pretty steady all the time, if possible.

When did you start running in Romania?
I was 17 years old when I started running. I started improving very quickly and I got a chance to get a scholarship to run here [for University of Texas, El Paso] just a few years after I started running.

Did you specialize in a certain distance when you first started?
I kind of jumped from one to another one, because that’s the way the championships were going there. So I’d be running 1500 or 3000 indoor and then a half marathon and then 5000. So all over.

Do you have a favorite?
I have a favorite when I run well.

It’s funny how that happens.
Yes. Because I did my debut a couple years ago in the marathon. It was a great marathon for me. And so I liked it that day. A year later, when I didn’t do too well — don’t ask me, because I was like, “This is not for me.” But everybody’s saying, “This is for you. You have to go for the marathon.” I used to love being on the track sometimes, and right now [I’m] losing the speed. So I have to stick with the marathon and half marathon right now, because that’s probably where I can perform better.

If you couldn’t be a runner, do you have other things you’d like to do?
I think I just love running. Before I started running, I was a dancer. I was dancing for my school. That was a really cool thing. I started running because my teammate had to lose some weight. She was about to get kicked off the team. So I said, “I’m going with you. We’re going to go run, you’re going to lose weight, and you’re going to be back there.” When I took her there, she didn’t want to run. She was embarrassed.

So my dad talked to the coach and he’s like, “Okay, you have to run now.” And so I just glued to the group of guys and stayed with them and I was so relaxed. And they were saying, “Slow down…” and I was like, “No, I feel good.” At the second training session they said, “Uh, we have a cross country race in two weeks. Do you want to run it?” It was a short distance, only 1500 meters. And I was like, “Okay, I’m running.” And I won the race so easily. And they said, “You have to stay in this sport.” And I said, “Okay, I’m staying.”

I think that’s called “destiny.”
Yes, I think so too.

A few minutes with Magdalena Lewy-Boulet

Magdalena Lewy-Boulet, 37, needs no introduction. But here’s one anyway. Originally from Poland, she became a US citizen on September 11, 2001. She is a regular top 10 finisher at the marathon and was this country’s half marathon champion last year. She stood out in the 2008 Women’s Olympic Marathon Trials by immediately rocketing out to a sizable lead that she would hold for 24 miles before being passed by Deena Kastor. She lives and trains in Oakland, California where she is also one of the founders of the Bay Area Track Club. She is coached by Jack Daniels.

After smoking the Rotterdam course.

In your preparations for Rotterdam, a breakthrough race [2:26:22, for second place and making her the fourth fastest American female marathoner] for you earlier this year, it sounds like you were doing a lot of work on your top end speed.
Because the World Cross Country Championships were two weeks before that, we definitely incorporated a little bit more of that work into this preparation. I really enjoyed it. But I still maintained all the other marathon stuff that we’ve done in the past. Not much has changed. I think it was just a little more balanced this time around.

I know you did a lot of training for the 2008 Olympic Marathon on the treadmill. Did you find doing all that running inside difficult to deal with mentally or physically?
Not really. As a marathoner, you’re already doing a lot of repetitive stuff. Long runs, out and backs, loops. I started running on the treadmill when my son was born and I was progressively spending more time on it. But I learned to do workouts on the treadmill, which I’d never done before. I don’t have to run on the treadmill, but I still incorporate it at least once or twice a week now. I do hill repeats, actually. Because I don’t have to run downhill.

Do you think regular runners can benefit from incorporating the treadmill into their training to do those different kinds of workouts?
Yeah, a lot of people have a very limited amount of time and sometimes limited access to do a track workout. Over the last few years I’ve learned that you can take any track workout and convert it to the treadmill. Having a child at home, you might plan to do a track workout, but then something comes up and you have to cancel your plans. But there’s always the treadmill, so that’s a good option to have. It saved my training many times, where I was able to get the work done.

What are you thinking about when you’re racing?
I actually think about a lot of stuff when I race. It kind of goes in and out. Sometimes I reflect on workouts that I’ve done that remind me that I’ve done some workouts that are harder than this race. It keeps you at ease because it’s the feedback that you’re well prepared. My last marathon was the first one where it was marked every kilometer. It was really going by quickly, versus miles — you get all this feedback. I coach, so I started designing workouts [that use kilometers rather than miles] for the athletes that I coach.

I don’t really have a strategy for what I think about. I just try to go with the flow. But I’m never out of touch with what happens in the race. It’s usually not until the second half that my mind fully tunes into the race that’s happening. The first half, it could be anything. I’m thinking about the dinner I’m going to make for my son the next day, or the workouts that I’m going to give to my athletes, or my own workouts. And then the second half is usually all about the race.

Can you tell early in a race whether you’re having a good day or a bad day? And are you ever wrong?
Usually, in the first part of the race you can tell. I’ve had races where I was warming up and feeling awful, just awful. I remember a couple races on the track where I was warming up and thinking, “There’s no way if I keep feeling like this…” but it ends up being a PR day. It happens. When you do feel bad, you always have to give another shot at changing something within the race to make sure that it’s really not happening today. Sometimes, you can change the outcome, hopefully.

After you bashed your knee, before the Olympic marathon [which Lewy Boulet could not run], you seemed really accepting of the situation. You were upset, but you seemed to take it in stride. Do you generally have a positive attitude when you have a setback like that?
You know, my coach is just an unbelievable person. Jack is really positive. It doesn’t just start with just races, when you don’t do well at the Olympics. It’s day in and day out — I’ve learned that I need to take something positive from each workout. He’s gotten me to always learn something from each situation and turn it into something positive. Making the Olympic team — even though it was a horrible outcome — I still learned so much from that experience. Something as simple as the logistics of how things work at that level. When I do make another team, I know what to do.

Is the marathon your favorite distance, or just the one you’re best at?
Usually, they go hand in hand. You always love events that you’re good at. I do love the marathon. More than anything, I love the preparation required for a marathon. It’s very rewarding when you do run well. And you don’t get too many chances. A 5K you can do once a month, or a mile every other week. With the marathon, you only get two shots a year. But I did love cross country. Racing at Worlds this spring was a lot of fun. The fact that it was in Poland, that I made the team and got a medal was pretty super cool.

I’m not deaf. I’m ignoring you.

A couple of decades ago a friend bought me a pin (pins were very big in the eighties) that said, “I’m not deaf. I’m ignoring you.” She thought it was perfect for me. I took it as a twisted compliment at the time, even though I know she was trying to tell me that I can come across as aloof. I’m really not. Okay. Maybe some of the time.

I should wear it (if only I could find it) because once again I’m ignoring you. Or, rather, I’m ignoring the results of my latest poll. Believe me, you don’t want the Mini 10K interviews verbatim. Do you want to see all of the footage from a four-day shoot of “This Old House”? I didn’t think so. Nor do you want rambling answers about GPS watch models or maiden vs. married names either. Really. Trust me on this.

Poll: What should I do with the Mini 10K interviews?

I spent about two hours in June interviewing quite a few of the elites who ran in the Mini 10K. We’re talking close to six weeks ago. I am assuming no one cares about the Mini 10K at this point. However, a lot of the questions I asked (most, in fact) did not have to do with that particular race. What should I do with this material?

You have one day in which to answer. Tick tock tick tock.

Race Report: Run for Central Park 4 Miler

Hot.

So hot.

It was hot.

I was hot.

It’s a good thing I went watchless today because I would have been discouraged indeed by my splits. Although I have to say I’m getting better at guesstimating my capabilities in hot weather. I figured I’d be lucky to run 7:30s today and that’s about what I ran, coming in at 30:05.

I barely did a warmup today. What was the point? Some dynamic stretches, three minutes of jogging and there you go. I was in Corral 2 today (red bib), which was disappointing, but it was a big race so I wasn’t surprised. I decided to run mile 1 like a hard tempo and see how I felt by mile 2. I picked it up a little, but, wary of the effect that mile 3 typically has on me, not too much.

Mile 3 would kill me anyway. I know this because I spent most of the mile trying to catch up with Harriers teammate Addy (whom I would meet, along with my other Harriers AG cohort, Susan, at a post-race Harriers shindig about an hour later). I caught her at mile 3, passing her at the water stop. And then promptly cratered at the crest of the hill heading into mile 4. She passed me and went on to open up a 1 minute gap. Either she was picking things up to a furious pace or I died in that mile. I suspect it was the latter.

Nevertheless, I scored again (third) for the 40+ women’s team category, helping to place us in 8th today. I don’t think the under-45s came out today or we would have placed higher (although I wouldn’t have placed at all). Again I’ll say that running for team points is a motivator that I like having. And now I regret the fact that I’ll probably be doing a lot less racing as I start marathon training. Oh, well. Can’t have everything.

I was good for 9th in my AG, which out of 145 is not terrible, especially considering how bad I am at racing in hot weather.

I met about 30 or so of my teammates afterward, all of them pleasant individuals. 47 glasses of water later I still feel dehydrated. So I’ve moved on to beer. I expect to pass out soon.

Tomorrow is the first day in a long while in which I have no responsibilities. Anything I do tomorrow is optional. This includes getting out of bed. But I’ll probably do at least that. Moreover, on Monday morning at 9 AM I don’t have to join my IBM team status call. Because I don’t work there anymore. Not that the call itself was so terrible. It’s the fact that on that call every week, the coming five days of Sisyphean to do’s would be writ large, filling me with dread, resentment, despair — and a shitload of tension would further compound in my shoulders, neck and back.

My freelance writing schedule is very light next week, something I have deliberately arranged so that I at last have time to get back to my running-specific writing projects. These have been the neglected middle child of my work life lately and it’s bothered me to feel that I’ve lost the momentum I had about a month ago. But there are only so many hours in the day and I frequently ran out of them over the past few weeks.

Next week I have maybe 10-15 hours of freelance work to worry about — the workload the past month has averaged 50-60. Hallefuckinglujah.  I’ve got a massage scheduled for Thursday morning. A Houston Hopefuls update and work on a Running Times piece, plus finally getting to the Mini 10K gems. I may go see the new Predator movie…in the middle of a weekday! And running all week.

Oh, I’ll be busy. But it’s going to be fun busy. I don’t remember the last time I felt this happy about the arrival of Monday.

Race Report: NYRR Mini 10K

This was my second Mini 10K, the last one having been 2008. I missed last year’s because I was too busy crying into my microbrews in Oregon after dropping out of the Newport Marathon at mile 18.

It was warm and humid this year, but not nearly as bad as it was in 2008. I’d say it was around 70F and the dewpoint was maybe in the low 60s. Not ideal, especially for a bad hot weather runner like me. But not disastrous either. It was also overcast for most of the race. This is about as good as you’re going to get in New York in June, so I was not complaining (for once).

This year was special for me because I got to meet so many of the elite runners yesterday, giving an extra dimension to my fandom today. Jonathan dropped me off at 72nd St around 8:00, an hour pre-race. I had no trouble getting my bib and I was able to do a leisurely warmup: .8 miles very easy followed by 5 100m strides at just below race pace. Along the way I spotted Benita Willis doing some easy running alone, Emily Chebet jogging along with her coach and another runner who I didn’t recognize, but she was a skinny Kenyan and obviously A Somebody. After the speedy bits, I adjusted my laces, did some dynamic stretches, downed a gel and some water, and I was ready to rock.

I had a blue bib for this race, first corral, a number in the 600s (they number the various corral bibs by last name). Getting up to it from Central Park South, where I did my warmup, was a challenge, but I plowed through the crowd and managed to arrive about 8 minutes before start. Corral 1 was crowded, but people were in good spirits. I saw a contingent of New York Harriers ahead of me but didn’t feel like expending a lot of energy by introducing myself and being social (how unlike me). So I hung back anonymously and waited for the festivities to begin.

The elites were introduced, with three brought up to the stage: Goucher (who decided not to run, although blew the horn to get us going and was at the finish holding one end of the tape, with Kathrine Switzer holding the other), Radcliffe and Kiplagat. Goucher and Radcliffe’s pre-race comments weren’t memorable. But Kiplagat’s were dry enough to be a Bond martini. She deadpanned (and I’m paraphrasing): “Everybody have a good time today. Don’t run the first miles too fast. Whether you’re first or last, you’re a winner.”

A few photos follow (thank you, Ellen).

Photo courtesy Ellen Jovin

Winners, all. This photo reminds me of a Manet painting for some reason. Is life imitating art?

Or is art imitating life?

My pacing plan was as follows: 7:10, 7:10, 6:50, 7:30, and the last 2+ miles were whatever my legs could manage. I have yet to have nailed either the 10K as a distance or on this course in particular. I have a history of running too hard in the first three miles. Then mile four, which is slow for everyone because of the Harlem Hills, does me in and the last two miles are a slog. I did not want to repeat that pattern today, so I paced the early miles so the first two felt easy. No going out at 6:30 was allowed.

As it turns out, I still haven’t nailed this course, but I’m getting closer. My splits were: 7:08, 7:04, 6:58, 7:37, 6:52, 7:09, last .39 (ran long) at 6:41 pace.

Mile 1 felt way too easy. I kept telling myself that it was supposed to feel easy and to just be patient for once. 7:08 was close enough. I spotted Jonathan somewhere into Mile 2, after we’d turned into the park at 90th St. I had plenty of energy at this point, more than enough to wave and say hello.

Mile 2 still felt way too easy, so I pushed things a little, but not too much. Maybe that was a mistake. 7:04. Whatever. What’s 6 seconds?

Mile 3 has a big, gradual downhill followed by the first big Harlem hill. I was flying at 6:30 for the first part of the mile and I felt fine, so I went with it. I knew the humidity was going to slow me down later in the race, not to mention the big hill that was rapidly filling my field of vision, so I ran by feel and didn’t worry about pace. 6:58.

Mile 4 is the bastard on this course. A huge, long hill follows the 5K mark. You wind up around it, past the Lasker pool/rink and Harlem Meer, and you’re still running up and up and up as you approach the 102nd St. transverse. Then you have a flat bit that if you’re smart you use to recover since you’ll be heading back uphill very soon. It’s draining as hell, and if you’ve spent too much energy in the first 5K, this mile will destroy your speed for the remainder of the race. It is what always happens to me. 7:37. Slower than I wanted, but not a meltdown.

Mile 5 was exactly what I wanted it to be. I wanted to be passing lots of people during this mile. And I was. I felt really good during this mile and that good feeling led to some extravagance that I paid for later on. 6:52. Jonathan told me that news of the elite race was being relayed to the finish and Linet Masai also had an extravagant mile 5, dipping well under a 5:00 pace. She was on course record time then. But, alas, her legs couldn’t hold that effort and speed any more than I mine could (relatively speaking — very relatively). As I crested Cat Hill, which I flew down, I passed two guys holding a Swedish flag, looking intently for (presumably) a Swedish lady friend runner. “Go, Sweden!” I yelled and they replied, fists up, “Yay!” First laugh of the race.

Heading into Mile 6 I passed Tavia, who shrieked (she’s very outgoing), “Julie!” [pause] “It’s Tavia!” For some reason, I found her comedic timing to be both brilliant and hilarious. This gave me laugh #2. Well, of course it’s Tavia! Her voice and enthusiasm are unmistakable!

At the 5.5 mile mark I was surprised to spot Benita Willis again, spectating right there on the course. There seemed to be a momentary flash of recognition, although I think I probably looked considerably more relaxed and attractive yesterday when I was sipping water and asking dumb questions than I did as I struggled past her toward the “800m to go” marker. So I was probably imagining things. I was verging on oxygen debt and developing a side stitch, so didn’t dare run faster. 7:09. Ouch. I knew I wasn’t hitting sub-7:00 that mile, but the readout hurt to see.

The last bit I managed at a 6:41 pace. Perhaps I’d been too conservative earlier on, but based on mile 6 I don’t think so. Nevertheless, I was happy that I could run that fast at the end. But I know I have homework to do as far as figuring out that last mile on this course.

Official time: 45:18. That’s 36 seconds faster than 2008 time. This was also my first club points race. As I’d hoped, I managed to contribute points to the Harriers 40+ women’s team, placing 2nd after the club’s masters rock star, Stephanie Hodge, (big gap in time there) and helping to put us into seventh place for this race.

Photo courtesy Ellen Jovin

Masai wins! I picked the wrong Kenyan for the win (Chebet), but at least I picked the correct runner's African country of origin (out of two).

Mini 10K wardrobe plans

For anyone interested, tomorrow I will be racing the Mini 10K sporting black shorts, an Orangina-colored shirt, Asics Hyperspeed 3s and a stern expression. Maybe also sunglasses, although I don’t like wearing them when it’s too hot because my nose gets all sweaty and then irritated by salt (TMI?).

I spent most of the morning talking to the Mini 10K elites. They included:

  • Kara Goucher
  • Paula Radcliffe
  • Lornah Kiplagat
  • Magda Lewy-Boulet
  • Emily Chebet*
  • Benita Willis
  • Kim Smith
  • Adriana Pirtea

Somebody pinch me.

A preview: The highlights for me were Lewy-Boulet, who had a lot to say about fostering post-collegiate talent; Pirtea, a surprise showing who I didn’t research but got some great answers from in response to hastily improvised questions; Kiplagat, who as far as I’m concerned is the reigning Queen of Distance Running (or maybe Co-Queen with Catherine Ndereba) and who I could have spent all day asking questions of if she had let me.

Some news: Irina Mikitenko is out with a “back twinge” according to one of the NYRR media people. Too bad. I really wanted to ask her about compression socks, “good” vs. “bad” running form and other weighty matters.

I have no idea when I’ll get to post about this morning’s chats since tomorrow is a race and Sunday I need to get to work on my third Houston Hopefuls interview. And spend the morning shepharding Jonathan to and from a race in Connecticut. And some freelance work.

Then Monday I go back to my real job. And I have more freelance work starting next week. And then the Vermont Relay all next weekend.

Fucking hell. I have way too much to do.

Good luck to everyone racing tomorrow. I was excited about this race until I spoke to the elites this morning. Now I’m mega-excited. If you’re spectating, you’re in for quite a show. I am amazed at the depth of talent NYRR will have assembled on the starting line this year. Nice video with some history.

There will be a New York Harriers cheering section at Engineer’s Gate (90th and Fifth on the East Side) tomorrow. I don’t know what they have up their sleeves, but this tantalizingly cryptic message was posted to their message board this afternoon by one “tmk030”:

We have a special cheering approach planned for Saturday’s race that you don’t want to miss. While I can’t reveal the details because of the sensitive nature of the subject; this is one spectacle that you don’t want to miss. Meet us at the West 90th street entrance to the park right before 9:00 am on Saturday and participate in an event that will change the way Cheering is done for races in central park forever!

You’re going to like the way we cheer and I guarantee it!

* Who I think is more likely than not going to win, and I can say that because I’m not a real journalist but merely a journeywoman blogger.

Ridgewood 5K: A mitigated disaster

Today we headed out to Ridgewood, NJ to race a 5K or 10K. I was undecided and for $10 extra I could register for both (and even run both if I was feeling in a particularly self-hating mood today — which I was, but not to the level required to double). So I registered for both.

After a terrible night’s sleep, which is par for the course for me prior to any race, no matter how inconsequential, we got up and it didn’t seem that bad out. A little warm, a little humid, but not oppressively so. At least not at 5:15AM.

As we would discover, it was about 10 degrees hotter in New Jersey. But it still didn’t feel that bad. Yet.

Jonathan was committed to doing the 10K and race it he did. He was 30 seconds off his last one, felled by the heat, which by the 8:45 start had become a factor. In the shade, it was warm. In the sun, it was baking, maybe high 70s at the start.

Still, he looked pretty good when he whizzed by on his way to the finish, well behind a gaggle of Africans (it was a money race: a whopping $200 for the winners) and some young skinny guys, but coming in 18th overall. He got second in the 50-54 AG.

I met up with him, supplied water and food and got him back to the car for a change of clothes. Then it was my turn to get ready. Now it was hot. I went off to do a warmup: half a mile jog around a parking lot followed by some short strides on a baseball field. Running at 9:00, I was out of breath. The strides were even worse. And so commenced a cascading crisis of confidence.

Frequent readers and other shut-ins will recall that I suck as a hot weather racer. My ideal racing conditions are right around the freezing mark, in which I will happily wear a tee shirt. I’ve also run some of my best races with windchills in the low teens. But put me in the heat and I melt. Or do I? Today I learned a big, painful (yet very encouraging) lesson about making assumptions.

By the 10:15 start, the sun was over the trees and the course was maybe 20% shaded. I was thinking someone should at least sprinkle me with cheese to benefit from my state of being. Can I find other ways to say that I was really, really hot? Probably. But I’ll go on.

Here are the lessons I learned today:

1. Commit or don’t bother. I screwed myself during the warmup, all of it mentally. I was afraid of the heat and didn’t want to race. Yet I’d driven all the way out here and felt obligated to. I was completely conflicted at the start, having convinced myself already that I’d have a bad race, yet struggling with a sense of obligation to bludgeon my way through the experience anyway. And the mindset that said, “I can’t race well in the heat.”

2. You can’t spell S-U-C-C-E-S-S with the letters C-R-A-P-P-Y-A-T-T-I-T-U-D-E. You can’t. I’ve had several runners whom I respect tell me recently that my attitude sucks and I need to work on it. You know who you are. Okay, I’m listening now.

3. Look at the damned watch, and look at it early. Here was the most interesting aspect of this race. I went out fast. I may not have had my head in the race, but my body was going full bore. But I’d told myself not to look at my watch, since when I’m having a bad race, looking at my watch will only make things worse.

Here’s how the first mile played out: I was running what I thought was a reasonable, but conservative, effort for the first half mile or so. My original goal pace for the race (earlier in the week, when it didn’t look like it would be so hot) was 6:39. I “knew” that wasn’t possible today. So I thought I was taking it easy in the first mile.

I knew we were coming up on the 1 mile mark and I felt shitty. I was thinking I was probably running well over 7:00 and decided to drop out and walk back. Pull over to the sidewalk, hit the watch and turn around and start walking. For the hell of it, I thought, “Well, since I’ve just bailed, I may as well see just how slow I was going.”

I had been running a 6:20 pace.

Well, fuck me gently. Turn the watch back on, turn around and start running again. But by that time I’d lost all momentum, physical and otherwise. I only lost 7 seconds on my abortive abortion, but the damage was done. I’d run too fast and now the heat was getting to me. The next mile was a full minute per mile slower. I bailed again for good at the 1.8 mark and jogged in the rest of the way.

4. Look where you’re walking. Post jog, while attempting to secure a banana, I bashed my left shin into a metal tent stake. That hurt. I’ve got a goose egg on my leg now and will have an impressive bruise in a few hours. Fortunately, my bones (and this includes my skull) are thick and not prone to breakage, a lucky state of affairs considering how gravity challenged I am. But the children nearby certainly got an earful of nasty.

Denouement: This was my third DNF. All three have had distinctively different causes. The first was a dropout at mile 18 of a marathon when I knew something was physiologically wrong with me, something that was pointless to fight. The second was a violent hamstring pull that put the kibosh on a 5 mile race in mid stride. Today was a DNF that didn’t have to happen.

Still life with trophy and contusion.

Had I looked at my watch and slowed down to my intended pace in the first mile, I probably could have run a decent race. Having a positive, or even neutral, outlook going in would have helped too. I will not do this again.

But I’m glad that this happened. The Mini 10K in less than two weeks is an important race for me. It will probably be hot and/or humid. I need to go in with a positive attitude or I’m going to screw myself again.

The best thing about today was the fact that I ran 6:20 for a mile in poor conditions at an effort that I thought was conservative. The hills of Central Park and the winds of Icahn Stadium have served to mask my level of fitness. I believe I am in better shape than I’d previously thought.

I have well over a dozen races scheduled between now and December. Please, let me have decent weather at just one. I will work on the attitude if the weather gods will work with me on everything else.

Plans for the year

Summer and fall race planning is in full swing, with training plans to be built around it. Basically, I want to continue to run shorter races, either as full out efforts or to supplement training as either race pace runs or to substitute for speedwork.

The fall is going to be all about the half marathon. I want to reach the end of 2010 having excelled at this distance. I’ll state now that my goals are lofty: a half by year’s end in the mid-1:20s. If I can run a half marathon at 6:30 pace per mile, I will feel much better equiped to start training for a marathon again.

So the summer’s got a lot of shorter stuff, with opportunities to score some points for the New York Harriers, and run many races I haven’t done before. Then I’ve got at least three half marathons I can run, about a month apart (I don’t count the Bronx Half, since it will probably be incredibly hot; if I do that one at all, I’m betting it will be as a training run).

The goal race for the fall is Richmond, VA. Jonathan may or may not do the full, but it’s a combined race, so we’ll figure it out as we get closer. I have it in the back of my mind that if things go spectacularly well this fall I’ve always got the option of doing the full there instead of the half. I like having options. Jonathan has a grad school friend who lives in St. Mary’s, Maryland, and whom we haven’t seen since (gulp) circa 1991. So we can hit her with a visit either on the way there or back. Long drive. But I’m good at those, my record being 11 hours from here to northern Maine in one day.

I will unfortunately miss Grete’s Great Gallop (a half marathon in Central Park) in early October as I’ll be out of town. That’s one I’d like to race, not only because of the whole Norwegian themed aspect (and a chance to meet Ms. Waitz), but also because it’s a club points scorer and I should not only be in good shape by then, but also in shape to race that distance in particular. But I’ll pencil that race in for 2011.

May
May 31*        Ridgewood, NJ 5K 

June
June 8*        1500 track race, Icahn Stadium
June 12*       NYRR Mini 10K, Central Park, NY (club race)
Jun 19-20*     Green Mountain Relay, VT (approx 15M over
                 three races)

July
July 5         Firecracker 8K, Southampton, NY
July 10        Women's Distance Festival 5K, Rockland
                 County, NY
July 17*       NYRR Run for Central Park 4 miler Central
                 Park, NY (club race)

August
Aug 7*         NYRR Team Championship 5 miler (club
                 championships - double points)
Aug 15         NYRR Bronx Half Marathon

September
Sept 11 or     NYRR Mind, Body, Spirit 4 miler (club race)
Sept 12        South Nyack 10 miler (could go either
                 way between these two on this weekend)
Sept 26*        Jersey City Half Marathon

October
Oct 10 or      Westchester Half Marathon
Oct 17         Bay State Half Marathon

November
Nov 13*        Richmond, VA Half Marathon

December
Dec 5*         NYRR Joe Kleinerman 10K (club race)

*The asterisks indicate that I've prioritized these.

Training: May 10-23, 2010

Well, these past few weeks have certainly been busy. Mileage was low, but punctuated by some interesting workouts and my first ever track race which was less than stellar, through no fault of my own.

Around all of this have been heavy duty work demands (on top of my M-F gig, a new freelance client with a lot of work that had to be done very quickly — lots of juggling and long hours there), plus my entré into running journalism, plus much work preparing to launch my new side project, Houston Hopefuls (see glaring banner in the upper right hand corner of this page), plus meeting my Vermont Relay teammates, plus strange, unidentifiable car parts actually falling off the bottom of my car. Seriously. The shit has been hitting the fan in a big way. But mostly in a good way.

The training has been one of the least demanding aspects of these past two weeks. Here it is. I won’t go into excruciating details because I’ve been wrestling with hand-coded HTML in WordPress (okay, Jonathan’s wrestled with it as I stood over him giving direction) all day and trying to figure out how to set up domain-specific email addresses. One minor triumph was finally figuring out how to podcast using Skype to record MP3s of phone conversations. I’d tried TalkShoe, but rejected it as it’s a proprietary format and you can’t edit the files. Now I’m going native. MP3 native, that is.

I was given two speed sessions earlier in the month to help prepare me for a mile race on the track. These were both really fun sessions. The first was a short set of cutdowns, with the last one having no assigned pace other than to “floor it.”

A few days later I did my first ever session of 300’s and holy crap were those fun. Much easier than 400’s. I got up at an ungodly hour to do those before heading into the city for a NYRR press event for the Healthy Kidney 10K, which resulted in two articles, one about the competitive elites and the other about Khalid Khannouchi’s comeback.

The first one made the front page of LetsRun.com and, shortly thereafter, was also linked as a daily news headline on Track and Field News’ website. No one has picked up the Khannouchi story, so maybe they’re sick of me already.

The next day I went in with Jonathan to watch the elites (and him) race. This one was his debut as a Warren Street member and he did well, placing 4th in his AG (those club points races are competitive) and helping to put Warren St. in 2nd place for the men’s 50+ team scoring in this race.

Jonathan appears startled at the end of this race verité clip from Joe. Also note the none-too-subtle dig at the New York Harriers.

The following week I ran my soppy race on Tuesday evening.

Then some quicker recovery runs (they are getting faster) during the week. Yesterday I did a run I haven’t done in at least a couple of years, one that I call the Yonkers Lungbuster. Yonkers is very hilly. If you want to put together a good hill run, it’s very easy to do. I ran just under 7 miles, climbing a total of 1,400 ft. My HR showed it too, averaging 86% for an 8:27 pace. It was warm and humid, which pushed it up. Still, it was a very satisfying run and it seemed to prime me for running reasonably fast again today.

This morning’s run was done along a three mile loop that circles Rockland Lake, about a half an hour northwest of our house, over the Chimpan Zee Bridge. Jonathan ran a 10K race up there. In fact, he won it in a time of 36:28. For his efforts he received an ugly trophy and a basket of Swiss skincare products. If he didn’t live with me, they’d have gone straight into the garbage. But because I’ll use anything that’s free, I’ll be slathering these expensive products on myself for weeks to come.

Weird booty.

Would you like some Swiss skincare products with your bagel?