PLeRunder Blog

Brooklyn Half Race Report

2010-05-27T15:35:00.001-04:00

Running is a cruel and fickle mistress. Some days it’s all clicking and you feel like a thousand winged seraphs are carrying you on a satin lined cloud. Your feet merely grace the ground and you’re being pulled forward by a mysterious and unearthly force.Other days you think everything is clicking and all of a sudden your legs feel like you were trying to count cards at the Bellagio and the pit boss hit you with a cattle prod and brought you into the back room where neckless thugs took turns beating you with bats. No fun.

The former is the reason I love running. There are few things that compare to the feeling of effortless speed. But it’s fear of the later that makes me a runner. If you think about it it’s really the reason anyone runs – or at least trains. Why else would you pound through long runs, exhaust yourself in a tempo, or do the extra interval when you’ve promised yourself you’d quit after the last three? It’s not simply because runners love pain. There are plenty of less strenuous ways to fill that fetish, (many that involve leather, ballgags, and Mistress Stephana the Goddess of Pain). At the end of the day we’re more than willing to torchure ourselves for the promise that one day we’ll be rewarded, even ever so briefly, by the run.

None of that has anything to do with my Brooklyn Half Marathon last weekend other than the fact that in all of my years of running; grueling workouts in 100 degree weather, miserable long runs in windy snain, painful intervals and hill workouts, vomit inducing races, and the like, nothing (NOTHING) has ever compared to the misery I felt in the last five miles of this race. Awful. It was not just the worst race of my life, or run of my life, it was up there with one of the worst experiences of my life – a hellacious 13.1 mile journey that brought me to the depths of insanity and perhaps beyond.

Yes, I am being a little dramatic, but it really fucking sucked.

Not that I didn’t know that going in. Two days before the race I went to the track to feel out a comfortable pace and turning a 7:00 mile was a chore. But stranger things have happened. I was better trained than now before my 3:24 marathon, and racing and running are different animals. Things could still click. They didn’t.

It started OK. My first eight miles were pretty respectable. Much slower than last year when I left the park on pace for a 1:20, but much better than I had expected. Take out mile six and I was averaging a 6:40 and change. Plus I felt good doing it. There were no satin lined clouds, but it wasn’t like I was pushing it like I was trying to break the tape in a 10K. But at the same time I knew better. This isn’t my first rodeo and there was no doubt in my mind after I rocked a 6:26 mile four that there was going to be a crash and it was going to be ugly. So I kept trying to take my foot off the gas and just settle into a reasonable pace. But there’s no mistaken – leaving the Park I felt good.

Mile 1 - 6:50
Mile 2 - 6:43
Mile 3 - 6:37
Mile 4 - 6:26
Mile 5 - 7:12
Mile 6 - 7:21
Mile 7 - 6:55
Mile 8 - 7:08

Then came mile nine. 8:00.

Let’s take a brief sidebar to discuss the difference between running and racing.

Most people run. Even when they race what they’re really doing is running. I’ve even made the argument that most people never actually run, only jog. Pearl had a great ad campaign that I’ve posted about that said something to the effect of – “If you’ve just run without sacrifice, congratulations you just jogged.” Most joggers see this as elitist hyperbole but I firmly believe that if it doesn’t hurt then you’re doing it wrong. That’s part of the beauty of a distance like 5K. No matter how stupid your first half of the race is you can gut out the rest. In my mind that’s what racing has always been about. You get as close to your threshold as you can stand and you toe that line through the finish. You leave everything on the course. But as I’ve repeatedly been taught, there is no gutting out a poorly run half marathon - lesson that was painfully driven home yet again this day.

After mile nine I started fading fast. And I couldn’t have been passed by more people if I turned around and tried to plow up the course like a salmon going to spawn.

Mile 10 - 8:39
Mile 11 - 8:24
Mile 12 - 9:26

Over these three miles, the three most miserable miles of my life I was passed by dudes in basketball shorts, fat people, possibly even Team in Training people – it was that bad. I was even passed by a dude with one leg. ONE LEG. Granted, this dude was beyond a rock star and I have absolutely nothing but respect for anyone who even thinks about competing a distance race with a prosthetic because I’m incapable of fathoming the extra degree of pain he must be plowing through, but he had one fucking leg man. Think of what that did to my self esteem.

Unfortunately it did noting for my next mile and I limped into the finish just barely getting under 1:40.

Mile 13 - 8:31
Mile 13.1 - 1:05

How about some perspective. Well, it’s about 12 minutes off my PR from last year. No biggie though because I was in much better shape. I ran the Gasparilla Half Marathon with a full sized American flag and ran about the same time. Ouch. In the NYC Marathon my second half would have probably beaten me. Double ouch.

In the end what did I learn? Bring a Metro Card? When in doubt carry an excuse flag? Realistically, I learned nothing. I’ll likely do the same thing again down the road, and likely post about how much that experience sucked as well. But at very least it’s imprinted a memory of pain that I’ll carry with me into my training – which at least on the short term is geared at finding my satin lined cloud, picking another race, and trying to escape the neckless dudes with bats. In short, Paul Leone will rise again! Take that one legged man!

Mebmerica

2010-03-05T15:02:00.002-05:00

I like this country. I like running. I like when runners from this country do well. That's why I'm a big fan of Meb Keflezighi. How big a fan? Big enough of a fan that I made a fansite - www.mebmerica.com

Snow Run 2010 part II

2010-02-25T04:53:00.001-05:00

Redone, and awesomer than before. That flag is going to be doing a half miler with me in Tampa. Holler.

Snow Run from Nick Cucci on Vimeo.

I Crave Pain

2010-02-24T10:35:00.001-05:00

Last night I ran in the rain. It was wet. It was also cold. But unlike other times this winter where cold and precipitation has caused me to strip down and run in next to nothing, this time I wore an actual jacket. I felt dirty. False to my true nature. I think I may have a problem?

Snow Run 2010

2010-02-12T09:52:00.002-05:00

This winter I've had this thing for running through snow storms while half naked. Wednesday was no different. What follows is a video so epic that it redefines the word epic, and makes me wonder if I should invent a new word that has the ability to convey a level of epicness more epic than merely being epic?

Snow Run from Nick Cucci on Vimeo.

Running at Altitude

2010-01-18T23:54:00.002-05:00

I'm snowboarding in Vail this weekend, (which makes me sound far classier than I actually am - those who know me best will tell you that I'm virtually devoid of class), and today I decided to do a little shake out run after tearing up the mountain for 8 hours. My thinking was I'd flush my legs, follow that with some stretching, and wake up in the morning as fresh as a daisy. Maybe fresher. Like a daisy sprayed with Fabreeze, in a Ziplock bag, that was vacuum sealed, then sprayed with Frabreeze, That was stored in a ziplock back.

Anyway, it worked well last year when I was in Park City - but in retrospect it was also one of the first trips I didn't end every day on the mountain at a bar. I'm no scientician but physical excursion + elevation + alcohol consumption probably isn't the best formula for muscle recovery. Or really much for that matter.

Whatever. Point is that I went running today and OMG. OMG. Running at 8,000 ft is re-dic. It probably should come as no surprise considering I've been getting winded brushing my teeth, but just thinking about the run was exhausting. By the time I'd gone a few feet I was shocked at the difficulty. It ended up easily the hardest 3 mile run in my life. Again, OMG. 3.2 miles, on snow, 8 minute pace, completely spent.

Now I just want to live here so I can occasionally come back to sea level to kick ass. If I ran a 3:23 marathon without training I could stay here for a month, run a marathon, and qualify for Boston without having to do more than a few dozen miles a week. It's genius!

Paul Leone is an Untamable Beast

2010-01-13T23:56:00.003-05:00

I got home last night at about 7PM, which is rather bizarre for me and not knowing what to do I was peace out on my couch within 15 minutes of walking through the door. At about 1:30AM I woke up, and my body was all freaked the fuck out because I've conditioned it to know that it shouldn't expect more than five hours a sleep unless it's the middle of the afternoon on a weekend in which case all bets are off. So being that it was pitch black body and mind were at a crossroads. "You must stay up and rage," one of them said. I have no idea which one at this point. "No said the other, you must try to sleep because there is a work day ahead." Whichever one wanted me to stay up watching Definitely Maybe for the 50th time won, and come 7AM I'm wired like I've been freebasing Powerthirst. 400 babies!

That all really has nothing to do with anything other than setting up why the hell I went running this morning, because it's very well documented how much I despise that noise. But off I went, 24 degrees, rocking my trademark capris, stiff breeze - not really but I got into a rhyming thing and didn't want to lose the momentum.

Anyway, I'm at about four or five miles into the run when I pass the Crunch gym on Bowery and 13th. If you have no idea what or where that is, they have this big window running down 13th where all the treadmills are. So I'm buring down 13th, hitting a decent clip, and I look at these poor fuckers churning away on treadmills, and for this split second I completely pity them. It was like being a wild beast on the Savannah staring at a caged lion. And I started to think about how shitty it must be to be them. Sure they're warmer than I am, but when they get finished with their run what will they feel? Satisfaction? Pride? Elation? Awesome? Or just relieved?

Then I got a little mad, because fuck them. How dare those tourists dilute the awesome of my sport. Ride a stationary bike or do some pilates, but don't run if you don't love it. Don't just do it to do it or to stay in shape. Do it because no matter how hard it can be to get out the door you're NEVER disappointed when you're done. Do it because the extra mile, or final pickup is always a great idea. Do it because you can, not just because you think you have to.

Whatever, to each their own. My running snobbery has been well documented here so anyone concerned I'm overly critical of runners I don't know you probably have a point. But this morning I was a lion, and they were the antelope, and next time I meet one of them on the Savannah you can only imagine who's going down.

Farewell Runners' Station

2010-01-13T03:26:00.003-05:00

Last Friday, with little fanfare, little warning, the Nike Runners' Station went gently into that good night ending it's nearly four year run (pun intended) on the West Side Highway.

The Runners' What?
The Runners' Station originally went up in March of 2006 as a joint effort between Hudson River Park Trust and Nike. At its essence the Station was a runner specific clubhouse that provided WSH harriers a refueling stop, and aid station, a place to talk shop, and just a respite with all the amenities that a runner could want. Over the years it would serve as much more than that in many ways becoming one of the central pieces elevating the NYC running community.

The running community in New York is amazing but those who run here know that running in NYC can be somewhat weird and solitary. There are plenty of clubs and NYRR is far and away the best race organizer in the country, but with the hustle and bustle of the City the majority of runners squeeze their runs in between a 70 hour work week and the rest of their existence. The Station serviced the veterans and the n00bs alike giving them information, routes, product trials, tips and tricks. Along with water, Gatorade, Powerbars and Gels, and even bandages for long runs and bloody nipples. The staff over those four years was amazing and easily the biggest benifit of stopping in. A mix between personal trainers, high school runners, marathoners, NYU runners, and people who were fully committed to the sport. Rarely in my three years involved with the program did I here anything short of glowing reviews about the people working there.

For Nike it gave a brand with a storied history in the sport, seeking to highlight their authenticity, the ability to start communication in a marketplace where people saw them as inauthentic.

But times they are a changing. Nike's target has shifted, the funding for this kind of immersion marketing has shifted, the Station moved not once, or twice, or even thrice, but whatever you call a fourth move, and in general the concept because somewhat expendable.

It's the dead of winter right now and short of the brave souls pounding out mileage for a spring marathon the paths have slowed. So chances are the loss won't be noticed by many until the weather thaws a bit. But as someone who worked on the program, and planned many long runs around it, seeing the empty space on my next trip around the tip is going to be highly upsetting.

Thanks to everyone who worked on it, came to it, posted about it, and will miss it as well.

Some of my fav RS posts and whatevers.
http://internalpigdog.blogspot.com/2007/12/inside-nike-running.html
http://damienbasile.posterous.com/nikes-hyperlocal-hyper-specific-popup-shop
http://www.flickr.com/groups/rackedny/pool/tags/york/page14/

I'm Totally a Winter Warrior

2009-12-18T04:44:00.000-05:00

Part of me thinks I post the same stupid stuff at the same stupid time each stupid year. Then an equally pessimistic part of me thinks, "Wait, I never post anything, no one reads this, so who fucking cares?" Both are right, or neither, or C. and I have no idea what C. is but I just saw Slumdog Millionaire so I know that D. is It was written. Not sure how that helps. But I'm going to continue with my point here.

I love running in cold weather. Fact.

Bet you didn't expect that. Or maybe if you do read this blog you would because of the whole same, same, same thing I was bitching about earlier? Or possibly C?

Thing is it really goes along with one of the main themes of this blog, which is about me and running - MY RUNNING. Paul Leone running. REAL RUNNING. And the key to my running? The acceptance and transcendence of pain. REAL PAIN. The kind of pain where your fingers are all numb and tingly, and your lungs feel like you're breathing in well tequila.

It sucks. It hurts. Every step you take is one step closer to not having to be outside anymore. It's awesome. I love it.

Snot pouring out of my nose like a druggie looking for a fix. Face feeling like it's made of glass and is going to shatter at any second. Feet feeling like blocks of cement pounding on bigger angrier blocks of cement that hate the fact that my feet are made of cement. There is absolutely nothing pleasant about running when it's 20 degrees, and windy, therefore making it actually colder than that. Except for the fact that you're running, it hurts, and that's what makes it awesome. It's what makes the entire sport awesome. It's what makes me awesome. And I in turn make mother nature awesome. The circle of life continues.

NYC Marathon Race Report

2009-11-11T01:59:00.001-05:00

NYC MARATHON
Finish Time: 3:24:23

It’s been over a week since I ran the New York City Marathon and I have yet to figure out what the fuck happened. In my wildest dreams I never expected to run a 3:24 - well, in my wildest dreams I’d run like a 2:07 then bang Megan Fox as showers of money rained from the sky - but in my practical version of my wildest dreams I figured I’d struggle to get to a 3:30 and fight through crippling pain while cursing myself for the last eleven. Not really the case as I completely cruised and in all honesty didn’t feel like I left everything out there. Not to say I could have dropped much but certainly felt like my first half could have been faster.

So what happened? How did I go from completely untrained race crasher to a top 4000 finishers in one of the biggest marathons in the history of the world? Was it a fluke? Steroids? Dark sorcery? Is Paul Leone just that fucking awesome? The last one is obvi, but after a week of thinking about how I did what I did my expert opinion is that what happened on November first was an absolutely perfect confluence of disparate elements the likes of which could NEVER happen again. Ever. None of it makes any fucking sense.

I mean I knew I hadn’t run that much since May, but after checking the running log on my Nike+ account the extremity of my lack of training is mind blowing. Fifteen runs for 75 miles. Let me repeat that in all caps for emphasis: IN THE FIVE MONTHS LEADING UP TO THE NYC MARATHON I RAN LESS THAN 20 TIMES FOR UNDER 100 MILES. That breaks down to like a half mile a day.

Huh? Is that even possible?

Granted, I‘ve run sans Nike+ a few times and I feel like I had some workouts stolen, but even if you double it you‘re talking 150; maybe 200 miles tops. If you spread that over a single month that would amount to almost enough miles to run a good 5K. People training properly probably dropped four to six times that.

And I didn’t just run the race - I owned it. Completely fucked it up, bent it over, and owned it from the gun to the Tavern. What follows is a detailed analysis of the pieces that made up the whole. Read, don’t read, I really don’t fucking care. But it’s basically the model by which all under trained runners should aspire to.

The Confluence:

The Fear:
The most important thing I did? Probably going into the race with a degree of fear. Only replace fear with terror and by terror I mean holy shit I’m going to die. The last time I ran for over two hours I was 18 years old, in college, and dropping 100 mile weeks - the next day I pissed blood. Since then I’ve done an 18 miler in May but nothing remotely close to 26.2. I’m willing to admit that an 18 miler is a hell of a run, but you’re not even getting out of Manhattan with that. 26.2 was a different animal. I knew it. I respected it. Frankly - I feared it. It’s probably the best move I made.

The Realism:
Related but not exactly the same I went into the race with ZERO expectations. Maybe not zero - I was outwardly extremely confident I could go 3:30. I was willing to admit that a small part of me held ridiculously grandiose notions that I could go through 15 at 7:15 then hold on for the next 11 to get under 3:10, but I didn’t honestly believe that. It was a dangerous dream. The truth is I was pretty terrified about mile 18, which was where I assumed the wheels would come off. And why wouldn’t I be? I’ve been there maybe three times in my life. It would be like hoping in bed with Alessandra Ambrosio and expecting to last the point where I hopped into bed with Alessandra Ambrosio. Wisen up man, you’re fucked.

The Weather:
The weather was awesome. Can’t really say enough about that. My lack of running ability in warm weather is documented, but it was cool, overcast, perfect.

The Crew:
I had an unbelievable bib for someone who didn’t deserve to be there. First wave, right behind the elites. While that would have been great any other time, that would have been my end in this situation. I know Paul Leone and you put Paul Leone around a bunch of people running 6 minute pace and Paul Leone is running 5:59 pace. I needed to avoid that. My boys Chris Anderson and Josh Zito were looking to run 3:25-3:30 which was exactly where I wanted to be. They were trained so they knew what they were doing. They were much smarter than I am so they were sticking with the plan. And they were just good people to run with. I was happy to be with them. At one point the crowd got crazy and Chris Mommy stopped me and was like, “Slow down buddy.” He couldn’t have been more right at the time.

The Fuel:
I’ve raced dozens of 5Ks, a handful of five milers and 10Ks, and two halfs. Nothing longer, nothing in-between. What’s important to note about my race experience is that in both halfs I have come completely fucking unglued. My first I held 6:20 pace through eight before dropping to 7:30 through the next five. I thought that was bad until Brooklyn last year where I was turning 6:15s through eleven only to finish my last two around nine. The first time I ran a half I was completely under trained. By mile three I knew I was fucked. But there’s no doubt in my mind that the last half I did got screwed because I was COMPLETELY under fueled. I felt shockingly well through 9. But I missed water stops. I did one gel way too late. Didn’t start as fueled as I could of. The result was the bottom fell out. It’s haunted me since. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice and I’m a fucking moron. This wasn’t going to be a factor in a marathon. I took five gels and did one every six miles. I hit EVERY water station taking both Gatorade Endurance and water. I had a good breakfast in the morning. It was done perfectly. I couldn’t ask for anything better.

The Start:
Part of the reason the crew was so brilliant was how relaxed Josh and Chris were. We started in wave two and it couldn’t have worked out better. Our first mile was 9:12. Next was 7:50, then 8:10, then 8:00...Super consistent. When we picked it up we did it conservatively: 7:34, 7:45. 7:41, 7:38. This is not how I run, but it was brilliant. We came through the half at 1:44:38. DEAD THE FUCK ON 3:30 pace. I doubt I could have been where I ended up if not for that start.

The Move:
At mile 13 you hit the Pulaski Bridge. At mile 14 you’re in Queens. At mile 15 you’re on the 59th Street Bridge. At some point between there I got a little quick through a water station and accidentally put some distance between the crew. I was looking back to find Josh and Chris but I’d accidentally put some distance between us. At this point I feel great. I was worried that slowing down and dropping back would have actually been more strenuous. I was warned to not do what I did. Mile fourteen is not where you decide to make your move when you don‘t have a clue how you‘re body is going to react past mile fourteen. But you know what? FUCK IT. Hello 7:11 UP the bridge. Hello 6:59 down the bridge. Hello 7:15s down First Ave. Hello freaking out at mile 20 and dropping to 7:51 into the Bronx. Hello realizing at mile 21 that I’m better than that and turning a 7:31. O Hai 7:37 at 22. Ha 7:30 at 23. I makes one wonder. And by wonder I mean how the fuck did that happen?

The Mommy:
I gave my mom and sister a plan to hit me at 11, 20, and 24. One of my slowest miles was dropping back in BK to try to find them. Nothing. But BK is kind of crazy so maybe I missed them? Then up to 125th it’s kind of dead so I thought if they were there I would find that. But nothing. By the time I got back into the City I’d written them off, but as I passed her at mile 23ish she yelled for me. MOMMY! Totally put a spring in my step and made me so happy that she made it.

The Finish:
I kept waiting for the infamous wall. Mile 22 I was literally terrified. Until I blew through it. Mile 23? 24? Really? This wall thing is going to happen right? Finally mile 24 I dropped to 8:12. 8:12!!!!! That’s my wall!?!?!?! Granted it was my second slowest mile but mile three was an 8:10. Mile 12 was an 8:11. So none of this was outlandishly slow. I picked it up to 7:59 for mile 25. And while 26 and .2 was a pretty painful struggle, it was also only 1.2 miles. HA!

The End?:
In the end I think my biggest takeaway from the experience is that as shocked as I am with what I managed to do, and even though I’m pretty convinced it’s one of my most amazing accomplishments, I’m not proud of the actual race. In the last week I’ve taken praise, but never said my time without preferencing it with, “I was completely untrained.” Which is true, but it amounts to saying, “You think that’s good just imagine if I actually cared.” Sadly that’s precisely what I’m thinking when I say it. I didn’t put in what I should have and despite the fact I’m proud with what I accomplished I can obviously do much better. I need to prove that.

But at the same time, and as elitist as it sounds, my success has bittered me on the whole marathon experience. All these people who earmark the marathon on their bucket list, so they can do 13 minute miles, to walk by mile 4, and finish in seven hours, have disgusted me for years. While they‘re taking their sweet time thousands of runners are being denied from ACTUALLY RUNNING THE RACE? And it is a race - granted as much about beating personal perceptions as winning, but as long as the clock is on ,ever second should be an enemy. Team in Training, Jeff Galloway, Oprah, and frankly anyone who either sets their personal bars remarkably low in order to avoid pain, or advocates that kind of thinking, rather than trying and teaching that running is about reaching those boundaries and breaking through them, can suck it. Humans are capable of remarkable things. The marathon is meant to be the place that’s proven. I feel like to some small extent I did, and it’s why I’ll be back to prove that confluence or not that as amazing as not training and doing a 3:24 is, my next race will be even more remarkable.

A Running Poem

2009-10-21T02:07:00.002-04:00

When I go out running,
I think of lots of stuff.
Like what's up with my playlist,
And calculus is tough.

And where the hell's Calcutta?
Why are stop signs red?
Why don't builds have floor 13?
And what's up with hotel beds?

And with Bill and Ted's Adventure,
which was better one or two?
And if space is black and scary,
then why is the sky all blue?

And i'm really digging this song,
But i want to change the track,
And I know that it's 1AM,
But I'm not yet heading back.

And I think I can go faster,
Or maybe should slow down.
And I can remember vaguely,
About this side of town.

And oh I love this song on now,
I'm picking up my pace.
And I think I can do a marathon,
Or some other distance race.

And I've been out for a while,
But I don't want to slow down.
And I'm running really fast now,
But I should turn back and go down.

Got a nice look from that hottie,
No doubt saying WTF.
It's 1:11AM,
That dude must have lots of luck.

But I'm heading up my block now,
and this run is almost done.
And just when it is over,
My jam comes on I need more run.

And I take a left, a right, a left,
With a trip around the block.
And I'm tearing off a 5:40 pace,
And burning up the clock.

But a right, a left, a right a left.
The run is good an done.
I press stop on my play list
As I finish up the run.

And I think what did i think of,
And I don't remember shit.
But I had a super sweet run.
And I'm glad I'm done with it.

Really Quickly...

2009-10-06T23:35:00.005-04:00

I had another shot outta a cannon night on my run tonight where my legs were turning over like they were on fire (or en fuego as my butter rican mammis would say.) It felt great and I felt great and it's starting to make me wonder a bit.

Ya see, for a while this summer I thought I was dying - and not in an everyone is dying kind of way but in a reaper is knock, knock, knocking at heaven's door kind of way. I was tired, I was winded, I needed a water stop to climb the stairs of the 8th Ave L train station. Forget running. I'd throw down a couple miles and start planning on running past a hospital on the way back just in case. It was a bad time for the empire. I laid on my couch and didn't want to get up. I thought my lungs were infected by devils - or at least poisoned by moldy walls, a filthy city, and the imminent threat of cancerous polyps.

But I've felt pretty terrific lately, and it's not that I've been eating better, working less, drinking more responsibly, sleeping more, or anything that would point to the change. Fact is the only thing that's really changed is the month.

Which made me think...the weather? Really? Could that be the reason?

I mean I grew up in South Florida training in heat that would make Satan wear sun block. I went to school in Tallahassee which has one of the most miserable summer's on the face of the planet. But I've been in the City for almost five years now, and I don't think I can acclimate like I used to. It's almost as if I'm a super hero with super ninja endurance and my cryptonite is heat, (though I can point you to plenty of young ladies who will beg to differ with the fact that heat saps my endurance if you know what I mean... Because they're my running partners... Who I've slept with. Duh.)

I ran twice while I was back in SFLA last weekend and they were among the most miserable runs in my life. First one was on the beach at night and enjoyable for the first three so I'm not really complaining there, but the second was like running up a mountain with a backpack full of angry monkeys as evil gnomes hurled flaming rocks at me. Three miles felt like Badwater.

EDITORS NOTE: I just looked down and noticed that at some point during my run - which ended like an hour ago, I opened a huge gash on my leg that bled all over the place. I find this both disturbing and freaking awesome being that I think I know when it happened but I can in no way confirm. That's focus playa.

So is it really possible that I'm that affected by the heat? Is it the humidity? Is it poor hydration? What is it? And if it is weather related I wonder how much it doomed my Brooklyn Half considering the monumental turn of events that occurred as soon as I left the cool park to hit the warmer, exposed, Parkway?

Maybe I'll ask Wise Mr. Owl. Though I'm still a little pissed about that Tootsie Roll Pop trick that bastard pulled on me. Damn you Wise Mr. Owl. Damn you to hell!

The Return

2009-09-15T02:56:00.002-04:00

I can't believe I haven't posted here since June 4th, but when I think about how I've been running since then there really wasn't much to post about. It's been a rough couple of months. I've been slow, I've been sluggish, I've been struggling. But there have been some interesting points - after years of tempting fate darting through the streets of the City I finally got hit by a car. That was pretty dope. I ran a 5K despite not feeling hot strictly because of my unwavering hatred of cancer. I've had some truly terrible runs. I've had a few that were even worse than that. But I think it's finally coming around. Tonight I felt like I was shot out of a cannon. Saturday I did 6 close to 6:20 pace. I guess this week will say a lot.

So maybe I'm back to posting more regularly? I think a good start will be to post by post recap the last few months. At least tell the story about how I was clobbered by a cab and explain why that hasn't changed by desire to cut through traffic like Barry Sanders if he was a bike messenger.

If anyone is reading stay tuned because PLe1 is back!!! for now at least.

Race Report: Brooklyn Half Marathon

2009-06-04T11:19:00.001-04:00

A few days late but no one reads this blog so it’s not a big deal.

Anyway, Brooklyn Half Marathon 2009 - well, to quote Dickens, “It was the best of times it was the worst of times.” Which is a classy way to say that I didn’t quite hit my goal. I was close – in fact I was there – close enough to smell the sweet perfume of victory. Feel it’s pungent aroma sting my nostrils.

But alas. After averaging 6:14s through at least mile 10 and just slightly slower through 11, the sweater unraveled leaving me naked and alone. Here is a mile by mile account of the carnage.

Mile 1
GAME PLAN: Start conservative. Resist the urge to weave. Understand it will be a little slower but you’ll make that up fast.
RESULT: 6:15
WHY?: When the gun went off I felt good - maybe even great. I wasn’t nervous, anxious, worried, or any of the kinds of emotions that leads man to being anything less than totally awesome. I was a machine. A running machine. And someone had turned this mean motor scooter on to kick ass. So despite the fact that I was already behind thousands of runners who were seemingly out to moozy through the park at 11 minute pace just enjoying the fine May day laid ahead of us, I kept telling myself not to run like an idiot. Be conservative. Don’t weave in and out. Pick a line, find your pace, and stick with it. All rational thoughts and ideas, unfortunately, as we’d soon learn, when it comes to racing Paul Leone is not a very rational man. Paul Leone is in fact a moron. So when put in a situation when he’s behind thousands of runners who are slow, and annoying, and getting in Paul Leone’s way, Paul Leone’s reaction is to get past them. This is dumb. Paul Leone is dumb. But until I hit my watch for the first split I didn’t realize how dumb. In fact I still assumed my time would reflect the fact that I had held back and was boxed out a few times but hadn’t gone too crazy. I was incorrect with that assumption. 6:15. Shit.

Mile 2
GAME PLAN: Fall into 6:20 pace. Accept the five banked seconds and ignore the fact that I felt like a rocket with too much fuel to burn.
RESULT: 6:08
WHY?: I actually fell into pace at this point. I felt good and so I went with it. I couldn’t really count the first mile when it came to establishing what a 6:20 felt like so I locked into what I thought was a 6:20. I actually felt like I was holding back at this point and was worried I was going to split out high. I was passing a lot of people but there was no way of telling what they were doing so I just went with it. When I checked the split and it read 6:08 I actually said, “Oh shit!” outloud.

Mile 3
GAME PLAN: I wasn’t sure what to do at this point. Part of me was scared to back off because I felt really comfortable and I was starting to do math. Get out of the Park with some time banked at I can coast. But the more rational side wanted to back off.
RESULT: 6:08
WHY?: This was a mathamatical error more than anything. I hit the split when I saw the mile marker for mile 6 which was for the second loop. I looked down and it was at 4:11 and it took a second but I realized the mistake. So now my timing is all thrown off and when I finally found the four mile marker and hit I couldn’t remember the first split to do the math. I had no idea if I’d speed up or backed off.

Mile 4
GAME PLAN: Go with it. You feel great. You’re downhill. What could go wrong now?
RESULT: 5:57
WHY? Oh shit. That was bad.

Mile 5
GAME PLAN: Danger Will Rodgers. BACK OFF THE GAS.
RESULT: 6:34
WHY?: In retrospect this was my most logical mile. I told myself to back off, I backed off. There was some uphill that helped this out, but it was a very conscious effort to slow down. Unfortunately I backed off too much and the +14 made me panic a little. I’d built up a cushion and eroded it with a single slow split. In my mind I was back to even. But that’s fine because I’m going to neg split the race anyway. Right?

Mile 6
GAME PLAN: Find 6:20.
RESULT: 6:20
WHY?: Yay! It took 6 miles but I found pace.

Mile 7
GAME PLAN: I’m past half way, I’m heading downhill, the hard part is behind me, I’m about to hit the “easiest” part of the course, I feel great, I’m cruising.
RESULT: 5:49
WHY?: Why is a great question. I have no response to that. Why? I just felt really good. I was totally on cruise control. I think I had a few good songs on the playlist? Whatever. Dumb.

Mile 8
GAME PLAN: Take my gel, slow down, use the banked seconds and just cruise in with 6:30s. At this point I was really thinking I had this in the bag. I’d done it. Dumb.
RESULT: 6:08
WHY?: There 6:08s are pretty annoying in retrospect. I think in a perfect world that is my half pace because when all is said and done that’s what I kept falling into. But when I hit it this time I started to freak and do math really quick. What did I have banked? How slow could I go? I was going to fall apart wasn’t I? Where are the freakin water tables?

Mile 9
GAME PLAN: Slow down.
Result: 6:24
WHY?: I had a ton of time to give, I need to slow down. I just need to cruise in. I’m not going 1:21 so don’t try. I don’t need 1:21, I need 1:23. Just slow down. Where’s the next water stop?

Mile 10
GAME PLAN: Just keep doing what you just did. That was perfect but go slower.
RESULT: 6:34
WHY?: I could feel that I was starting to slip a little but this mile still felt strong. 6:34 was perfect. I can even back off a little more maybe?

Mile 11
GAME PLAN: Oh shit I’m starting to fall apart. Hold it together. 6:40s will get you home. Hell, you might even be able to get by with a little slower.
RESULT: 7:04
WHY?: It was about half way through this mile that I realized I was fucked. I was hoping something would kick in but I was fading faster than a fat chick’s resolve in Crumbs Bakery. Still had +22 seconds going into mile 12.

Mile 12:
GAME PLAN: Hold on for dear life.
RESULT: 8:21
It was over at this point. I knew it. I was completely out of gas at this point and getting passed like a moped on I95. I kept thinking that I just wasn’t mentally strong enough and I should be able to will two miles but there was no giddy up. I tried to surge but there was just nothing in the tank. I looked at my watch and it said I’d only been running the mile for 1:23 – how is that even possible. I ran for a few more minutes and looked again and it was only 1:53. Did I accidently hit the split? What’s going on? How is it possible this mile is so fricken long? Why is god doing this to me? This was no longer a race so much as a test of will. I would finish this race. I would not walk. I would not stop. I just needed to limp in and take solace in that fact.

Mile 13.1
GAME PLAN: Will this race ever end? Seriously? Where is the fucking finish? How is it possible that it’s taking that long to get there?
RESULT: 13 - 8:24, .1 - :49
WHY?: Plan and simple I ran out of gas. I’ve never had it happen because it was my second half and the first time my training ran out before my fuel. This time it was 100% the fact that I wasn’t fueled properly. I should have taken a gel before the race, one at 5 and one at 8. But by the time I crossed the line I could barely walk. It literally took 12 minutes to get from the finish to the post race, and I was asked twice if I was OK. Once I got some Gatorade and an apple I was right as rain, but the lack during the race killed me.

Interwebs Chatter About the BK Half

2009-05-28T10:32:00.002-04:00

Great elevation map. This thins is huge. Thanks to Pam and RunDangerously for this gem.
http://rundangerously.blogspot.com/2009/05/quick-look-the-reversed-2009-brooklyn.html
Map
http://www.mapmyrun.com/view_route?r=380acd05616136c6dfc64ff38dc1c9a5&show_elevation_panel=1&rs=undefined

Kinda scary but I know the feeling.
http://runningdowndreams.wordpress.com/2009/05/27/do-you-know-your-enemy/

What th Hell's a Runner's High?

2009-05-27T03:43:00.002-04:00

I've obviously heard the term "runner's high" half a zillion times over the years, but being that I get both words separately I've never spent too much time thinking about them together.

Runner's High - n. A state of euphoria achieved through running

I was really locked into my run today and even afterward I was still buzzing from my runner's high.

Yeah, I get that, but I've never actually used the term to describe - well, anything. I've never even really thought about it. It seems like a Mickey Mouse packaging of something that you don't really talk about and can't explain. But over the last two days I've been asked about it twice. The first time I actually thought the question was semi-moronic mostly because it was followed by a brief explanation of the drugs the person uses and how they get high. So all in all that was just bizarre. But yesterday it was asked again - and though I looked at the person with the same confused "huh?" it dawned on me that as difficult as it is for a runner to define or describe what a runner's high is, to the non-runner the concept is completely inconceivable.

But it got me thinking: what the fuck is a runner's high?

I've always equated running with competition - either against other people or myself. So for me the most euphoric running experiences have been winning races, setting PRs, or the times when I've felt like crap but gutted out a race despite the fact that ever ember of my being was totally ready to throw in the chips. The first district championship I won in high school I was about three hundred yards behind the leader with a mile to go, and all I was thinking about was holding off the guy behind me so I could get second. But I came around a corner at mile two and one of the coaches for another team spotted me and said, "If you're going to do it you've got to do it now." For whatever reason that made it click, and I just started reeling the leader in. Coming down the last 400 meter straightaway into the finish the leader was still like 100 meters off, but I was totally locked in at this point and when I passed him with maybe 20 feet to go I remember everything seeming silent and in slow motion. It might have been the severe oxygen debt and complete exhaustion, but I was completely zoned in.

For me that's what a runner's high has always been about - that crushing of self doubt as you push yourself past physical limits towards victory. But that's such a short sighted view of the concept. 99% of runners will never get the feeling of winning a race - hell, I'll probably never get the feeling of winning anything but maybe a beer mile ever again.

I think the runner's high is more than that. Over the last couple months I've had a few runs where I've felt great, where I've been locked in, and where running fast has just felt effortless. Times where I've looked at my splits and realized I was effortlessly turning sub six miles and finding it harder to hold back then keep up. It's almost like going downhill on roller skates - you're just getting pulled forward by this magical running force. I guess this is really the true meaning of the runner's high and I guess what keeps people coming back. The chance to lock into that magical land of light legs and fast feet.

With just a few days before BK that's all I'm hoping for on Saturday. I just want to feel like I'm running downhill the whole time. Like there's a tractor beam at the finish pulling me home. I lock into that and the biggest question won't be whether or not I break 1:23 but by how much.

Track Workouts: The Great Equalizer

2009-05-21T02:38:00.002-04:00

Ten days left before the Brooklyn half and I'm willing to pull out all the stops to be ready to rock on game day. Whatever it takes. The way I see it, not running sub 1:23 would be be upsetting, but running something like 1:23:07 would pretty much be devastating. Like painting my walls black and sitting in my room listening to Intermezzo from Cavalleria Rusticana by Mascagni over and over again - sadly this wouldn't be the first time it's happened, and I don't feel like spending my weekend eating a tube of cookie dough and crying. So with every run, every meal, every sober minute, it's because I don't want to look at those seven seconds at the end of the 1:23 and think about what if.

With that in mind I turned to the advice of my personal running guru, the incomparable Coach Jonathan Cane of City Coach to see what I could do over the next few days to be tippity tip top on the 30th. He thought that I still had time for some speed, some hills, and some distance before getting rested and ready, and I believe the man. So tonight I headed over to the East 6th Street track to turn left a few times.

Results? I guess those are to be seen, but track workouts hurt. I've done maybe three since I stopped running track in college and I always forget about the painful part. Plus I was already a little sore from playing kickball yesterday (which is sad on multiple levels), so I wasn't really feeling the fast, but I did 1 x 1200 at 3K pace, 6 X 400 at 5K pace, and another 1200 at 5K pace. I did the first 1200 at 4:06, then split the 400s at 1:18, 1:18, 1:14, 1:17, 1:20, and 1:03. Yeah, 1:03. I felt like the other five were relatively easy and I wanted to see if I could go under 1 minute - which I've still yet to do since saying that it was something I wanted to do.

The result of that was a final 1200 that felt like I was carrying a piano up a flight of stairs while monkeys and old people hurled feces at me. First lap wasn't pretty at 1:31. But just before I'm about to call it a night Don't Slow Down by Matt and Kim came on the iPod and considering it a sign from the mighty mighty running gods I thought about what I wrote earlier - every lap counts right now, and if I can't dig down deep on the last 800 of a workout how will I do it if I need to on race day?

So I did the last two laps in 1:27 and 1:25. Still slower than I would have liked but there are few feelings better then telling the voice that wants you to quit to shut the fuck up. Thank you Matt, thank you Kim, and thank you running gods.

A Runner’s Rebuttal to the Athlete Stereotype

2009-05-18T18:09:00.003-04:00

I wrote this either last week or a couple weeks ago as part of a pitch for a high School running program. It didn't get used but I thought it was pretty awesome so I wanted to post it. This is basically a High School runner's snide retort to the football/baseball/basketball star. Kind of a middle fingered eye roll to what the stereotype jock is through the eyes of a kid that's dominating his sport but getting no love. High School runners past and present should get it - and for those who don't I think the HS Runner has a middle finger left for you. Enjoy.

...

Runners are Rock Stars. I’m a Rock Star. Yeah, I might not get the glitz and glamour, the pep rallies and pom poms, but when I do what I do I do what I do well. I’ve got style that goes for days. Mad skills. I make it look good. You see me as that crazy runner kid doing laps around your practice, and joke that my sport is your punishment, but you’re only half right – whether you’re running voluntarily or not MY sport is punishment. Running hurts. If it doesn’t hurt you’re not doing it right. And by the way, you’re right, I am crazy. We all are. That’s what keeps us going.

And we’re not stopping. In the snow, in the rain, in the heat, in the dark, through mud, through muck, through dust, through dirt, in woods, in traffic, around traffic, past traffic, over traffic - whatever you want to throw at me I’m charging through it.

I’m not stopping. There are no rain delays in my sport. There are no time outs, stoppages of play, seventh inning stretches, half times, free throws, automatic bases, lay ups, or empty netters. All we’ve got is a clock and it keeps going until I cross the line. So I don’t stop until I’m past it. That’s what’s different about us, but it’s not the only thing big boy.

I’m also tougher than you. You don’t believe me? Well I’ve got a pair of Pegs and an interval workout that thinks differently. You might think you can do what I do but you’re wrong. If you think otherwise then prove it. And when you’re huffing and puffing after the first 1000 meters with your hands on your knees wondering why I’m making it look so easy I want you to remember this – I am - but it’s not. The path from there to here was paved with pain.

We love the pain. That’s what keeps us coming back. While you’re hiding behind your shoulder pads, hip guards, facemask, and helmet, I’m staring agony in the face, gritting my teeth, and telling pain to bring it. My off days hurt more than your entire season.
I’m hardcore like that.

Yeah, you heard me. I’m brutal in ways you couldn’t understand.

Maybe you can break your opponents will with a late inning single? A jumper at the buzzer? A hail mary as the clock expires? Light weight. Imagine sitting on the leader’s shoulder for three miles - so close he hear your heart beating in his ear. Then just when he can feel the tape about to hit his chest, you drop the hammer so hard he doesn’t even bother. He’s done. That’s the kind of ruthlessness that I’m bringing.

So when you see my boys from Nike rolling up, bringing something like you’ve never seen and you’re asking yourself why a bunch of crazy runners are getting the red carpet rolled out for them? Remember what I said – We’re getting treated like Rock Stars because that’s what we are, and this is how we roll.

Running w/ Music

2009-05-09T20:12:00.003-04:00

I know many runners' eschew (vocab win) the very idea of running with music as if even condoning it would instantly turn them into some kind of Central Park lower loop loser that that steps off the treadmill a half a dozen times a year when the weather is next to perfect or when they chose to plod along in a vanity race*.

*Vanity race is this concept I've noticed where people do races not to do well, or feel good, or so they can train for something, but simply because they want to be able to talk about the race they're doing.

Fact is living in NYC music is a major part of my life. I wake up and listen to my morning playlist, my iPod is on the second I leave the door, I get to work and I'm plugged into Pandora all day, I leave and I'm back to my iPod. It's like my life has a soundtrack. Plus it makes it easier to ignore annoying homeless people, keeps tourists at bay, makes the L train tolerable, and allows me to avoid doing stuff like reading. Ew. On the days where my battery is dead a small part of me dies as well. So why would I turn the volume down when I'm doing the one thing most befitting of musical accompaniment? BTW that question was rhetorical.

Anyway, lately my iPod has been F-ed and I had to reload all my music - which forced me to think of my top 10 running songs. Here they are in no particular order.

Ize of the World, The Strokes
If talked about this song here before and how I've gone runs listening to it over and over on repeat. Hood to Coast last year I cooked my second leg at 5am throwing down 5:56s listening to this despite the fact I had zero business being under 6 minute pace at that point. I love the Strokes in general but the reason this song is particularly striking is because it's consistently upbeat but when the corus starts pumping I just want to drop the hammer. Goners.

Surf Wax America, Weezer
I love me some Weezer but this song wouldn't make my Weezer top 10, maybe not to 20. For whatever reason I have a distinct memory of running to this song on a Walkman when I was like 13. Feeding the thirteen year old within is important - unless it's within your basement and you're holding it captive. Let's move to the song.

Killing in the Name Of, Rage Against the Machine
Some songs are happy, some songs are sad, some songs make you want to fight a clown. This song is the later. I've listened to this before every race I've run since my sophomore year in high school. I'll be racing at 90 and when they start screaming profanity I'll be ready to split 5:30s.

William Tell Overture, Rossini &
I'm putting these together because they're kind of odd and because I could make just a classical list. But just listen to it. It's so runnery. It takes you on this journey from the slow start, through this crazy pumping section of awesome, it's like a run itself. I dunno, it just works. I actually run to a lot of classical, it's very visceral pure, emotional kind of stuff to run to. Plus it's long so you don't have to worry about changing tracks. I'll spare you on the whole thing and just post the best parts.

And just for good measure I'm including one of the best classical power songs ever. I dare you to try to run slowly like this. You'd probably get committed. This song begs for speed - kind of like my junky ex roommate but in a much more productive way.

Yeah Yeah, Matt & Kim
I could probably add a few more Matt & Kim songs. They're upbeat, peppy, real runnery. Their new album has a song on it called Don't Slow Down that makes me not really want to slow down. But this song is pretty much the perfect pick me up during a run. And the video is happy.

Lazy Eye, Silversun Pickups
Long and short of it - I like when he screams and I run fast. Done.

Everywhere You Turn, Longwave
This was my Powersong almost three years ago but it still gets me going.

Longwave - Everywhere You Turn (Official Music Video) - Watch the best video clips here

Right About Me, Vroom & Every Time I Look For You, Blink 182
This is crazy old skool but this is what was on my mp3 player (not even iPod) when I was still in college. It's punk, and if you can't run to punk what can you run to?

Pulp Song, Stellastarr*
Stellstarr is one of those strange bands that was nothing, then they were like the big next thing for a heartbeat, then they disappeared. I've had this song on my running playlist for like 7 years at this point. I've probably logged 100 miles to just this song.

Time Trap, Built to Spill
There's something amazing about how this song builds up in the beginning, so you just keep getting progressively faster then you just kind of break through. I often find myself unnecessarily fist pumping to this song during the run. Then again, while listening I recognized the fist pumping is actually completely necessary.

Going Long

2009-04-27T11:56:00.002-04:00

Part of my super duper macho plan to go sub 1:23 in the BK next month involves kicking ass and taking names - actually that's like the entire plan. Typically with a plan as dynamic as this I just go about my typical routine of being awesome and such, and don't really put in the work to actually get things done. This time is going to be a little different. I'm actually going to do stuff and stuff. So with that in mind I decided to do 15 on Saturday. I didn't quite get there, and coming out of the Park I was pretty much donezo, but got some water and some Gatorade and managed to make it home without death.

Here's the first part of the run:

Then Nike+ got sweat in it and stopped working so I had to start a new run for the last 3+. I kept telling myself that I was dropping hammers, but when I actually looked at the time it appears no hammers were dropped at all.

Writer's Block/I Have a Long Way to Go

2009-04-23T01:53:00.002-04:00

I'm still in the office staring at the same assignment I've been trying to work on all day. I've got nothing. I can't squeeze out a coherent sentence at this point. I have no idea what happened because I was flowing effortlessly on the RunBoston09 blog last week - now I'm just sitting here struggling over lower cases and capitals.

But I figured maybe a run could shake lose some thoughts. We'll find out soon enough, but regardless I did learn something about myself tonight - if I ran Brooklyn tomorrow I'd be F-ed in the A. I have no idea why I'd expect anything different. I'm not well trained at all right now. My speed is as down as it's been in years. I've done two runs over 8 miles in the last month. I haven't thrown down a 30 mile week in - well, last week I dropped one but that's only because I was turning two a days and threw in a 13 miler.

The real take away from tonight is that I need to go back to the way I need to train - fast and hard. You're not going to throw down 6:20s training at 8 minute pace. I need to go out and push more often, if not for the physical implications at least for the mental. I need to relearn how to run fast, and start remembering what it feels like to push past preconceived limits. To dig a little deeper. To silence the voice telling me that I need to slow down.

Nike+ read 6.5 at 6:30 pace but I mapped it out and it was probably closer to 6.8 which would put my pace around 6:15. If I could hold that I'd clock a 1:21 half and be smooth as butter, but there was no way I'd have held that for another 6 and change. F that. Not even close. I essentially have five weeks to kick my ass into better shape.

I have no intentions to be checking my watch counting seconds on 5/30. I don't want this to be close. I want this to be comfortable. I want it to be easy. I want to decide half way out that it's time to drop the hammer and gun to go sub 1:20. Way out of reach at this point but that's the mindset I have.

I'm going to go longer on long days than I ever have, I'm going to do some legit speed work, I'm going to run my tempos hard, and I'm going to try to get a little better every week. There's no turning back. Not anymore. It's no or never. Go time. I'm ready for it.

The Road to Boston Starts NOW

2009-04-22T18:16:00.002-04:00

If you haven't checked the Run Boston blog I was doing last week it's worth peeping because I had a blast out there. So much so that I've already purchased RunBoston2010.com and I'm ready to start blogging my road to next year's starting line. Yep, you read right - my goal is to be toeing the line for the 2010 Boston marathon and taking everyone through the steps that get me there. That includes qualifying for NYC this year at the Brooklyn Half (need a 1:23), then doing a 3:10 at the New York City Marathon which will be my debut. Then all the training leading into Boston next year. Ambitious? Yeah, but that's how I roll playa.

RUN BOSTON 09

2009-04-15T13:37:00.002-04:00

As if I needed another reason not to post here I'm currently in Boston blogging constant updates up until the Marathon on Monday - I'm actually possibly Tweeting during the Marathon but there are no confirmations - only more questions. If you want to stop by and have a looksy you can find me at http://www.runboston09.com or at my Twitter feed at RunBoston09. Then again the only people who read this probably already know so this is basically just stating the obvious - but if there's one thing I'm all about it's all that is obvi.

An Open Letter to the Run

2009-04-07T23:44:00.002-04:00

Dear Running,

I'd like to start by applogizing for taking you for granted. I know I've said this before only to be less than honest, but you're obviously very important to me and you know that. We've been together for almost 20 years and despite the fact I'll occasionally stray, or not give you the time you deserve, or fail to make the commitment that I recognize you want, you have to know how much you mean to me.

But that's not why I'm writing. Not completely. More-so I wanted to thank you.

Been out a thousand times, gone a million miles, been together in the rain, in the snow, in the heat, in the early morning and dead of night. We've gone through pain, through problems. Had times I couldn't wait to get out the door, times where I had no desire to be around you, and times that were all about the sheer joy of being together. No matter how many times I've strapped on my kicks, how many trips we've taken on familiar paths and new trails, every once in a while you still manage to surprise me. Still are able to give me an experience that's simply transcendent. Nearly unworldly. Life changing. The kind of experience that reminds me why I love you so much. Why we'll be together forever.

And I recognize that it's not the same kind of experience for everyone, but what you gave me tonight was intense. The weather was crisp but comfortable. It felt like I was going downhill the entire time. I was light and fast like a gazelle prancing through the savanna just laughing at the lions. Every single song on my iPod was perfect. I'm about to finish and you drop my fav running song - you know how much I love Ize of the World. So I put in that extra mile for you so we could listen. Together. It was just great. I really needed that, and it makes me so happy that after all this time we can still connect so deeply.

So thank you. And not just for tonight but for everything you do for me. Thanks for all of the amazing times we've had together and all the amazing times we have in front of us. Thanks for being you.

Yours Truly,
Paul

Fun with Lets Run

2009-04-06T15:12:00.002-04:00

Lets Run is an interesting place - simultaneously all that is right with the sport of running and everything wrong. It's a conundrum, a mystery, a riddle and a metaphor. In short, Lets Run at it's essence is running itself.

But the people who post there tend to suck. Some more than others but good luck finding a thread on that message board that doesn't have some douche another poster slow. And it's all anonymous so who knows who actually is fast? And more importantly who cares?

I think this thread sums it up nicely. Enjoy, I know I have.

http://www.letsrun.com/forum/flat_read.php?thread=2959848

Cool Commercial

2009-03-17T10:45:00.001-04:00

Chaffage - the Great Equalizer

2009-03-12T22:10:00.005-04:00

Before anyone reads on I want to make a note that this particular post contains some fairly graphic information about my anatomy, and anyone worried about getting TMI should turn away now. RUN! RUN!

...

Anyway, now that the weaker element has been scared back to their LOLcats and www.fuckyoupenguin.com posts I can get into the issue at hand: chaffage. All runners who have gone more than 10 miles at a clip understand the unrivaled horrors of chaffage. From bloody nipples to the dry sawing sensation that an ill fitting pair of shorts can cause to the inner thigh (I'll spare pictures of that,)we've all dealt with this devil from time to time. But for the most part an ounce of prevention in some band-aids, or Body Glide, is all you need to avoid looking like you were shot in the boob by Lee Harvey.

But what if the chaffed area wasn't somewhere that could be baindaided? What if it couldn't be Body Glid? What if it was an area that has absolutely no buisness being abrased at all?

You see where I'm going with?

So a couple nights ago I'm about to go out for a run decide to throw on on of my pairs of half-tights (not quite tight as tights but not quite loose as pants - really like the uber tight being that they incorporate the best of all worlds). I've worn these things three dozen times without much of a problem. They're black, a little loose fitting, totally standard half-tightage in every way but one - the inside of them is made of a material more abrasive than asphalt. It's literally like 2000 kitten tongues all situated right around my junk. Of course I get no DANGER WILL RODGERS alert from anyone down there before we take off for a nice five mile tempo, and by all reports everything seemed fine. Up until the point I take the pants off and survey the crime scene.

I seriously ran through the same kind of emotions that President Bush must have felt while flying over Katrina damaged New Orleans - fear, guilt, confusion, animosity, anger, a strong desire to drink. It was all a little much to handle, but the end result is my stuff had been rubbed a little raw (I warned you that this post wasn't pretty).

Is the damage permanent? Obviously not. A couple days of not wearing shark skin pants and I'll be right as rain, but for the meantime it's all about getting my heal on. If it was any other part of my body I might attempt a lap, but really, is that something you'd want to mess with? I didn't think so.

Nike Runners Station

2009-03-04T16:33:00.001-05:00

For anyone who's been there, if you could take a second to fill out this survey it would really help us in continuing to use the Station at the benefit of the NYC Running community.

Click Here to take survey

Snow, the Great Equalizer

2009-03-02T22:25:00.002-05:00

New York City got rocked with over a foot of the fluffy white stuff today, and the temps at 6:30PM were dropping sub-twenty. Not exactly what the weaker among us would define as "running weather". But as is my mantra, this sport isn't fun unless your in enough pain that the possibility of vomit and/or tears is strong to quite strong. Today wasn't that kind of pain. More like the pain you get when a 20 MPH wind blows through the park and makes your face feel like it's going to peel off, hit the ground, and shatter, but you're already on the other side of the lower loop so you have no choice but to continue around. It's in these moments that I hate circles.

In related news the only people I saw in the park tonight (outside of my group) were runners dropping 6:30 and faster miles. Runners that aren't "casual", or "sport" or any other pronoun that imparts some kind of a preconceived weakness. Just RUNNERS.
And it wasn't just the speed. I did two laps with my girl Roz who was bragging that she finally broke a 9:00 mile in a race. When I told her that I was happy she came out despite the weather her reply was, "Stop playin me fool. You know I'm not one of them fair weather types. Best recognize."

In retrospect I think I may have taken some liberties with the dialogue but you get the point. My girl's a gansta.

In conclusion...

Running + Snow = Cold
Running + Cold = Pain
Running + Pain = Sacrifice
Running + Sacrifice = Authenticity
Running + Authenticity = Mad Respect Playa

She you foolios in the Park.

Rest = Good? Or Booze = Better?

2009-03-02T02:02:00.000-05:00

So I took the last few days off - partially because I was sore, and partially because I was drunk, drinking, and/or some stage of hung-over when I should have been running.

But today I was back at it, (running not drinking), and I actually felt great. My calves have been crazy sore lately, but today I breezed through 5 pretty quick miles without a hitch. Then I drank.

The lesson here? Is it that proper rest is the best thing for a runner to get quality training without burning out, or that booze is the cure to all of life's problems? I think we all know what the answer to that is. Thank you booze.

Great Way to Start the Day

2009-02-25T10:09:00.000-05:00

This is too good to not repost...

First Published in "Around the Park" February 2009, the publication of the Prospect Park Track Club

“Running is my meditation, mind flush, cosmic telephone, mood elevator, and spiritual communion,” Lorraine Miller.

That was the Runner’s World Quote of the Day on January 16, 2009

Cosmic Telephone… That got me thinking.

A few springs ago, I was on my way to the Park to run. As I passed the nursing home by Grand Army Plaza, I heard a small voice. There was a really old woman (she was in her nineties) in a wheelchair. She wanted to talk to me. She told me how much she used to enjoy being out in nature, running, swimming, riding bikes and horses. I sat down. She told me about the Grand Canyon before there were cars there. She talked about her grandchildren and great-grandchildren and how she used to play with them.

Then she asked me to do her a favor. She could no longer make it to the Park. She wanted me to share my experience with her. She did not want me to come back and tell her what I saw; she wanted me to think of her… think for her… think with her. She wanted me to send my experience to her… to share the moment with her. (I did not think she was crazy, people do that all the time on Star Trek.)

So I ran a loop, I ran around the lake then I ran out to the pier in Coney Island and back. Physically, it was a great run. But it was more than that. I paid special attention to the blueness of the lake and the sky. I remember watching a hawk circle its prey. I noticed that there were two distinct swan families living in the lake. I noticed that the sound of children play is the same on all languages. I even remember that the fishermen in Coney Island catch the bait they use to catch fish and that that whole combination of stuff really stinks. I also noticed that the Twin Towers were no longer visible from the end of the pier. I appreciated every moment of this run. I guess I could say, “I was in the moment.”

I never met that women again but I thought of her, confined to her chair but enjoying the world through my eyes.

Most days I walk my kids to school with the same family. Ricardo is a regular runner. One day last week he was limping. He told me he had sprained his ankle. He also had the flu and a giant pile of work to do. He was not going to get to run for a while. On the walk back from school I told him about the old lady asking me to share my run with her. I told him that in about an hour I would be doing a loop of the frozen lake. If he were to open his mind I would share my run with him.

The next day he told me that he noticed the time while he was sneezing. He knew that at that point in time I was running around the lake. For a moment he thought about how beautiful the Park must be. He said he knew the lake must be frozen and he thought about the ducks and swans walking on the ice. He was able to leave the place he was in, the sneezing, coughing, swollen ankle, too much workplace and just for a moment be in the Park.

I think that the old lady was not really asking me to do her a favor; she was doing me a service. She reminded me that when I am in the place that I really want to be I should appreciate it. Years later, I reminded Ricardo that no matter how bad your day is, your favorite place is still there, waiting for you.

Now close your eyes and think of you favorite place. It is still there.

AM Miles

2009-02-25T01:57:00.000-05:00

The great, drunken, rack patty Dean Martin once said, "I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day." I have the same sentiment for people who get their in at 6AM. It's like then what?

I mean forget about the hellishness of having to tear your sleep deprived heap of a pissed off body from beneath the warming warmness of your happy happy comforter, so you can stumble around looking for your iPod, trying to figure out if it's cold outside or brutal, and you can only find one glove... I seriously rather fight Rosie O'Donnell to the death over a frosted strawberry Pop Tart (and that has nothing to do with my undying love of the Pop Tart nor my unquenchable hatred for Rosie.)

You ask most morning runners and the answer to why is typically to "get it out of the way?" That's how you'd expect someone to describe a prostrate examine not a run. Your run should be something you get to look forward to, anticipate, plan for, use as motivation when everyone is annoying the fuck out of you. The run is the best part of the day - like the little chocolate plug in the bottom of the cone when you have a Drumstick ice cream cone.

Anyway - 4 miles at 1AM is how this playa be rolling. It's all about the closure, and the procrastination really, but I feel like my day is officially done. And I now REALLY want a drumstick.

Pain

2009-02-19T10:36:00.000-05:00

It's been three days since I did the first speed workout in my quest to reclaim my glorious glorious speed, and my calves still feel like they went 10 rounds with Clubber Lang. I took a day off, did an easy three and change last night, I've stretched, worn my Frees, and I'm still tighter than the skin on Joan River's face. Now I'm trying to decide if it would be better to try to run it out tonight or take another day off to rest them?

I think the bigger issue is - I'm this sore after a little speed work? Really? And by really I of course mean, REALLY? It's tote redic - like OMG WTF?

And while I want to blame age and life in general it's obviously completely attributable to the three months between October - January that I spent engaged in a Bacchus-like lifestyle of complete indulgence in all of life's vices. It was awesome! But at the same time I have to concede that my physical fitness was hardly top notch after three months of skipping runs, and physical fitness in general, so I could drown my liver in scotch, pound chicken McNuggets drenched in sweet and sour, and make absolutely terrible decisions regarding just about everything else.

But the song and dance continues my friends, and with that...............BOOM goes the dynamite.

Project 400

2009-02-15T01:08:00.000-05:00

If someone asked me what kind of runner I am, I think I'd probably used the term "distance runner". I wouldn't be happy about it though. There's just something slow and unglamorous about the term distance runner. Like you couldn't make the cheerleading squad so you ended up on the flag team. Or the homecoming queen turned you down for the prom so you settled on the girl that smelled funny and drooled.

I totally dated the homecoming queen so I have no time for people thinking I can't move. In fact, in high school the 4x400 team tried to get me to come out to run the third leg. In college I ran a 48 second 400. And anyone who's seen me on the softball field knows that I can get around the bases. I have speed.

Or did I have speed?

Like so many things in life if you don't use it you lose it, and as the grains of time slip through the hour glass of life I become less and less fleet of feet. I just don't have the kind of turnover I did when I was young and spry.

But how slow am I?

I really had no idea until tonight, and it's kind of upsetting to find out the answer is pretty fricken slow. I was out at the track tonight calibrating my iPod and decided to run a 400 just to see. Kind of take a peak at just how good of shape I'm in. I figured I'd look at the watch and be totally psyched. It turned out to be a fitness FAIL.

Never mind that I pretty much collapsed after I finished, and forget the fact that I just felt slow and lumbering, and we won't even get into the fact that I nearly pulled off halfway through because I didn't even want to know, and I'm blocking out the fact that the one 400 is going to practically cripple me in the morning - but when I finally checked the time all I could do was a 65 second lap. That's redic. It's beyond redic, it's like totally WTF.

So I've decided that over the next month I want to shave 10 seconds off that. A 55 isn't exactly blazing, but it is respectable and obtainable. Much like myself. I'll let the no one who reads this know how that goes.

Nike+ Mini

2009-02-11T20:50:00.000-05:00

On an information superweb gone dancing bananas, where LOLCats sleep with dogs that want to kill themselves, and a single mouse click could point you towards unspeakable hystericaloscity or a Goatse, having a digital representation of one's self in a virtual environment is as crucial as having a quality Quickmix in your Pandora account.

It's in this environment, beset on all sides by cybertronic overwhelmingnessism that Nike unleashed the Nike+ Mini - an invention that could easily be seen as a slightly ridiculous waste of time and resources for a footwear company, but upon closer inspection could be the most influential thing to happen to my running since $15 socks.

What is this Mini you ask? Check out the playa on the right. In his purest form he's like a little motivated digital likeness of me, (who looks like he's been on a week long bender.) When I run he's happy, when I don't he talks all kinds of smack. So as long as I feed him miles I don't have to look him in the face and sense his disappointment in me.

That's the positive.

The negative is the fact the little bastard is a liar. I just got done running and he's hemming and hawing about how I'm not running enough. I JUST PUT IN SIX MILES MAN! He should be grateful not running lip. But I'm practically tempted to run around just to shut its little yap. So it's working - or I'm slightly off center. Or both? I'm not ruling anything out.

Jessica Simpson's Weight

2009-02-02T21:33:00.001-05:00

I typically don't use this blog as a forum to comment on celebrity gossip. It's not that I don't care, though I don't, but more-so it's just never really come up. But being that this is a running blog, and running is all about physical fitness, and physical fitness and weight-loss are tied together, I feel that Jessica's weight is a particularly valid topic to be discussed in this forum...

Fair enough?

First of all it's important to note that I full heatedly believe that society (the fashion industry specifically) really puts a mind screw on young girls by exposing them to a completely unrealistic version of what is the ideal female form. Especially when you consider how airbrushed and retouched the typical magazine photo is. Seeing the before and after of 90% of the pictures that make it to Cosmo would drop your jaw.

But here's the problem with Jessica Simpson's weight and all these yahoos coming to her defense - SHE'S FAT. She's not healthy looking, or normal, or average, she is fat. And it's not even that she's fat so much as she is so much fater than she was just a few months ago. You compare this picture to the one up top and it appears she's put on between 20 and 400 pounds. There's no way that's healthy.

And it has nothing to do with her being a woman - if that was Brad Pitt and he put on 50 pounds he'd get called out too. For example, when Matthew Perry went from a skinny coke head loser to a bloated coke head loser it turned heads. Anyone who thinks there's a double standard for male and female celebrities is fooling themselves. No one in the public eye gets to pack on a small child worth of weight to their ass and get a free pass. And possibly more important to note is that Lindsay Lohan is currently getting called out by the press for weighing in at 45 pounds. The fact is it's not about being fat or skinny it's about being healthy. And there's nothing healthy about a KFC diet.

So Nick Lachey, the tard sister and her flippidy husband, that worthless waste of human DNA Kim Kardashin, and everyone else who thinks the fact fat Jessica ate skinny Jessica is OK, needs to stop crying to the press and start prying the Whopper out of fatty's mouth. Get her on a treadmill or something. Because saying that that kind of weight gain is normal is an insult to anyone watching calories, pounding out miles, lifting weights, and generally trying to maintain a healthy lifestyle.

The treadmill of DOOM

2009-01-28T10:35:00.000-05:00

I’ve been mad sick over the past week. Crazy, silly, wicked, mad, CRAZY sick yo. Like coughing up flemy blood sick. That kind of sick. SICK!

It started with a cough, then the congestion, then it just blew up – aches, pains, fever, chills – all the good stuff. I thought it might be the black death but my eyes didn’t start to bleed so I saw that as a positive and decided to fight through the pain. I’ve been on the mend since, and though I’m not even close to 100%, I’m 100% better than I was a few days ago.

So last night it was time to get back on the horse, and by horse I mean treadmill, and by treadmill I mean it’s too damn cold to even consider running outdoors right now. I planned for three or four miles which is typically my limit on one of those things. To me there are few things more miserable then treadmill running so even four miles is like walking the Cherokee trail of tears. But I was watching a basketball game and I refused to get off until it was over. Well the stupid game went into stupid overtime, and I was stuck. Then the time outs started. I don’t know how many time outs a basketball team gets but by my estimation it was between three and 40. The last five minutes of the game took forty F-ing minutes and when all was said and done I’d gone over 7 miles.

This is some kind of hellish record for me. I’m not sure I’ve ever gone over five on one of those and the net reaction is that’s the longest I will ever go. It’s outside for me tonight playa. Hitting the muckity muck out there in the slushy slush snow.

And Just When I Started Making Progress...

2009-01-21T01:06:00.000-05:00

I've never had a stellar immune system. Not necessarily worthy of becoming a bubble boy, but definitely never one of those people who can have SARs breathing Zombies biting them and end up with nary a tickle in the throat. That's why it comes as no surprise that I'm currently infected by the hunta virus - or something very similar. I'm coughing, I'm sneezing, I'm sore and beat-up. While I'm not yet bleeding from my eyes I assume that's mere minutes away.

This couldn't come at a worse time for my running. Since I went snowboarding in Utah I've been putting in the miles with regularity - despite the fact I've been working 16 hour days and it's been twelve degrees out. But taking a run right now would 94% lead to death. Possibly bloody lungs. I don't know. I'm not a doctor.

11 Degrees? Cereal?

2009-01-17T00:05:00.000-05:00

So I haven't posted in over two months, but in my defense I haven't really run much up until recently, and by virtue of this being a running blog, if I don't run what the hell am i going to post about? Not running? How many posts until this becomes a not running blog? And at that point who would be the audience? Not runners? How would they even find it? It would be like discovering Mormonism by doing a search for "not sex".

I'm using a lot of question marks.

Anyway, I just ran on a treadmill because that misery seemed slightly more tolerable than venturing into the negative 2 windchill of the great white north. Global warming my ass. It's so fricken cold I'm scared to walk home from work because I might get beat up by a penguin. Or a bum who wants to carve me open and sleep in my carcass like Luke does in the star wars movie - Bear Gylies might have done it with a camel too. It would have to be a really small bum. Like a midget bum. I've never seen a midget bum.

Which leads me to a good point. There's like 50,000 homeless people in new york city and not a single one is a midget. How is that possible? You would think that being a midget would be a major step towards alcoholism and alcoholism is a major step towards homelessness. So where are all the midget bums damnit?

Anyway, focus, treadmill...

Holy shit man! Two miles on that thing were like the most difficult two miles I've ever done in my life. I've limped two miles over hilly terrain with a shattered ankle and that was like a mojito in the spring compared to what I just endured. I mean the options were literally freeze to death and have a midget bum carve me open and take a nap inside my gut, or run on the treadmill so it was an easy choice, but why would anyone purposely do that to themselves given the option? I almost want to use a sex with a condom analogy but it's more like sex with a cardboard box over your junk.

So in conclusion I'm going to go home and take a nap so I can run with the Niketown run Club in the morning but here's hoping I don't run into any penguin riding midget bums on the way home.

Getting back in it JR

2008-11-12T01:17:00.000-05:00

My running typically is short phases of briefly trying to get into shape, almost being in shape, just about to get to that point where I feel like I'm almost in shape, and then not running for three weeks while eatting lots of Whopper Juniors. And who can blame me? They're all kinds of delic... Over the last three years I've gone through this no less than 15 times all couples with a subsequent fall off that brings me back to ground zero. What can I say, the King is an SOB.

But in actuality it's actually one of the things that makes running fun - the fact I almost always suck at it. I can't imagine how mundane it would get if you topped out and knew you'd never gain a step.

I ran 7 miles tonight and I actually felt good for the first time in a while. Not sure what the NIKE+ said because I wasn't really paying attention but it was somewhere in the 6:40/mile range. Not flying but a decent clip and I wasn't pressing. Just slipping through it.

We'll see where this goes. I have a long way to go for a quick 5K. I have a long way to go for a sub 1:23. But through sheer apathy I can at least ensure that I'm not going to overtrain. And that within itself is worth some play on the BK value menu.

A Day Older, A Year Wiser, A Step Slower

2008-10-30T02:40:00.000-04:00

But not for long I say.

Today is the 29th anniversary of my birth (I actually had to count because it doesn’t seem possible.) Most people consider 30 the big one, but in my eyes all thirty represents is a celebration of your 20s, so 29 looms large as one of the ultimate years of life. At least that’s what I’m seeing it as. Twenty-nine is big. Like hella big. And I’m starting it off with NYC Marathon weekend, which in my line of work is one of the most intense weekend’s of work of the year. Hooray not being able to celebrate because of work!

Anyway, In the month leading up to today there’s been a lot of introspective thought about what I’m accomplished, where I’ve failed, what I’ve gained, and what I’ve squandered. Unfortunately the “squandered” subsection of this quandary had tipped the scales, and nowhere as much as with my running.

Once upon a time I had the potential to be a very good runner. Not quite elite, but in high school I was a three time district champ, all county, a state all-star, and all without really trying. My big weeks mileage weeks topped out at 25, I rarely trained on the weekends, rarely went over 6 miles on long runs, didn’t eat right or train smart – I just ran. And I was good at it so I liked it. But baseball was what I loved so I skipped track season every year to play ball, summer leagues kept me from putting in a good XC base, and I basically accomplished what I did on sheer will.

I’d go on to run in college and my mileage increased too much too fast. I went from 30 miles a week leading into school, to 80, 90, and 100 mile weeks almost immediately. I burned out just as quickly, and never really was able to recover. I was no longer as good and running was no longer as fun. After a year of mediocre running I was done before I ever really gave myself a chance to get stronger, faster and better. I may never have been great at the college level, but I’ll really never know.

In my adult life I’ve gone through waves where I’ve been on the verge of getting into fairly decent shape – and just as much time neglecting my training all-together and going back to square one. I’ve never given myself the opportunity to get better because right before I turn the corner I drop off.

So now that I’m toeing the line with just 365 short days away from 30 I’m realizing that if I don’t make the move now, when will I make it? I don’t recover like I did when I was 18 anymore – the cracks and pops I hear when I’m getting out of bed in the morning sounds like I’m stepping on a balsa wood plane. I’ll never have the same speed. My job will never let me have the time to run like I did in college when I’d wake up at 6am to do eight then be back on the track for a workout by 4pm. My PRs are probably set in stone at this point. But I still have a lot of goals that I can aim for that will satiate that feeling of regret that I’m having.

So starting today I’m gunning for some goals in the coming year:

Sub 4:30 mile or sub 2:00 half. My HS PRs were 4:27 and 1:58 respectively - but both of those were set after not training for six months and just showing up at meets because my baseball season had just ended.

Sub 16:00 5K. I love the 5K because it’s a race you can will yourself through. That’s my style.

Sub 1:23 Half – MYC Qualifying time. I think I can go faster but this is probably the most important of my goals because my final one is…

My first marathon in New York on November 1st 2009. I will only do it if I qualify. I will only do it if it’s NYC. It will be two days after my 30th birthday and it will be the culmination of my year of run.

So that’s it. It is written therefore it shall be done. It’s now something I have to hold myself to. It’s my 30th Birthday president to myself.

Check back to see how long this resolve lasts. I’m thinking I’ll make it through the weekend but who knows. I mean for anyone who’s seen the ridiculous inconsistency of my posting kinda knows how I roll.

Good luck to everyone running this weekend and welcome to the most intense weekend for runner sin the City. NYC Marathon weekend. Woohoo!

Fun With HR

2008-09-24T18:47:00.000-04:00

From: HR Person
Sent: Wednesday, September 24, 2008 5:25 PM
To: ME
Subject: Mutual of Omaha Paperwork

Hi Everyone,

I still have not received your mutual of Omaha paperwork. I need to receive this form back even if you are not electing any additional coverage. Our company policy automatically covers every employee for basic life and long term disability coverage therefore I need this form back because it has important beneficiary information that you need to fill out just in case anything was to happen.

I have attached a copy of the form. Please review and fax it back to me.

If you have any questions please let me know.

Thanks,

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: ME
Sent: Wednesday, September 24, 2008 5:35 PM
To: HR Person
Subject: RE: Mutual of Omaha Paperwork

Hello HR Person,

I apologize for the delay in filling this out but I have some reservations about the completion of this document. Due to my religious beliefs I fear that filling out this form will be a precursor of my own demise. The second my signature hits that paper I'm pretty sure something heavy is going to drop on me. I'd like to stay in compliance with company policy but not at the risk of my personal well being. Please advise.

ME

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: HR Person
Sent: Wednesday, September 24, 2008 6:02 PM
To: ME
Subject: RE: Mutual of Omaha Paperwork

Hey Paul,

I would not wish you to go against your religious beliefs but I would recommend filling out the form just in case something heavy drops on you because that way you will be covered. Better safe then sorry.

Let me know if you have anymore questions.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Me
Sent: Wednesday, September 24, 2008 6:02 PM
To: HR Person
Subject: RE: Mutual of Omaha Paperwork

Thanks HR Person,

I'm both appreciative of your concern and thankful for your prompt response.

While I do agree in the concept of coverage, I feel that my inability to utilize it in the case of my untimely exit would far outweigh the fact that if something were to fall on me I'd be covered. Plus, being that having it is going to be the catalyst for the falling object I'm rather cautious.

However, after consulting my family, my Shaman and several Witchdoctors, we've concluded that as long as I don't take any extra benefits I should be fine. I've faxed the forms over and I'll be performing a ritualistic spiritual cleansing tonight to be on the safe side. That's just how I roll. Thank you again for all the help and have a fantastic night.

ME

Apartment Hunting: The Quest For Better Running

2008-09-22T22:57:00.000-04:00

A couple months ago my current apartment was sold and by the end of the month I'm getting kicked out onto the cold streets of the city that never sleeps. This is obviously the sucks on a variety of levels - not the least of which is the fact that apartment hunting in the city is one of the most awfulest things you could wish on an individual. I rather be hugged by a stinky subway bum than have to even point my browser to craigslist.com. But with 7 days left I'm hitting the interweb hard in search of somewhere to live starting October 1st.

Inevitably I'll have to move into a place not half as awesome as the one I'm currently in. Either it's going to be small, or in an annoying area, or a 8 floor walk-up, or there's going to be a pack of rabid zombies living in the closet and I'm going to have to get some kind of zombie eradication specialist to come in and kill all the zombies. And then I'll have to get that mess cleaned up. And they never get all the zombies on the first try so I'll have to keep calling this guy, and he'll give me these random times when he can come - "I'll be there sometime between 11AM and November." So no matter what things won't work out.

But the other thing that's annoying me is the fact I'm going to need to completely change my running based on the new location. My current place is on 45th and 8th. I'm an .75 mile straight shot to the park, or I can go west and do the WSH with an 8 mile Runners' Station loop, or I can do my favorite run through Times Square. I know that Niketown is about a mile away, I know the Staten Island Ferry Terminal is 4.5 miles away, and I know that I can do a west to east loop of the tip in about an hour and 20 minutes.

Some would see this as a good thing - but I say nay. If I'm Downtown the Park is out. If I'm to Uptown the Station is out. If I'm too east I'll have to start using the east path. And Times Square late nighters are all but gone - single tear.

But on the bright side it will be nice to explore a different part of the city. And I'm sure the zombie problem won't be that bad. So if you know anywhere free of zombies with good running that's available starting October first please let me know.

Seriously Serious Running

2008-09-17T22:48:00.000-04:00

Recent chunder around the interweb has been centered about what makes a runner “serious”. Serious, of course, being the counter position to casual – which in runners’ parlance is like being someone who kicks babies and prays to Satan.

The responses have been fairly interesting because it seems like for the most part runners have determined what a serious runner is based entirely on their personal preferences, idiosyncrasies, and accomplishments. So if you don’t run with music anyone who does is typically trying to ruin the sport. If you’ve under-prepared for a long run and your shirt has rubbed your nipples into bloody nubs of searing pain, then anyone who hasn’t made that lapse in judgment can’t possibly understand what running is about. And if you’ve run four marathons you tend to think that the measure of a “serious” runner is having completed somewhere between three and five of them. Ballpark.

I’m not a huge fan of the serious and casual vernacular, simply because I think it spurs a conversation centered around quantitative values. A serious runner does this many miles, does this many races, runs this fast, has been running for this long, runs this many times a week, etc. But a deviation does exist, and whether it’s serious or casual, real or fake, hard or soft-core, I agree that when I’m in the Park I’m passing more than just one type of bipedal mammal.

Personally I prescribe to Pearl Izumi’s answer to the question (that I’ve talked about before,) which revolves around the premise that the line between running and jogging begins when it stops being easy. A recent Runners’ World ad reads, “If you just ran without sacrifice congratulations, you just jogged.” It makes sense because running really isn’t easy. Long runs shouldn’t be easy, workouts shouldn’t be easy, and racing should NEVER be easy. Easy is sort of the antithesis of running. In fact, the only time easy works its way into running is when you’re running something easy to recover so you can run harder. Running is actually hard – painfully so, and should be followed by hand on knee reverence and constant fear.

And when you think about things in terms of that the rest of the story falls into place.

Runners: Buy light-weight moisture wicking technical running apparel because it will help them dissipate perspiration quicker thus keeping them dryer which will facilitate faster times and longer runs with increased comfort.
Joggers: Buy light-weight moisture wicking technical running apparel because they saw a runner wearing it. And it looks cool.

Runners: Have different shoes to meet different training and racing scenarios. Vomeros for long runs, Elites for tempos, Kataras for 10Ks, Marathoners for half marathons, Zoom XCs for cross country races, a pair of spikes for the track, trail shoes for trail runs, a second pair of Vomeros to use on days after doing long runs on the first pair, etc.

Joggers: Have a pair of Asic 2100s some guy at Jack Rabbit recommended.
Runners: Do long runs so they can run their race harder.

Joggers: Do long runs so their race will be easier.
Runners: Do races to achieve personal goals, test the limits of their own personal endurance, or get the high that can only be achieved by silencing your own self doubt.

Joggers: Run races to get the NYRR 9 race automatic entry. Or because they’ve decided that they need to finish a marathon. Typically they pick a goal time and train for it, rather than training to run as fast as possible.

Runners: Do track workouts, interval training, fartleks, long runs, recovery runs, and tempos.
Joggers: Jog.

I could go on, and there are a lot of others that the seven of you can feel free to add, but the point is that things done by joggers serves the function of making running easier, and things done by runners is to allow them to run harder. It’s has nothing to do with how fast you go, how slow you go, how far you go, or how often you’re out there. Someone running 13 minute pace could be Alan Webb if 13 minute miles is as hard as they can possibly move without slipping into unconsciousness.

Agree, disagree, make a counter point, but it’s my blog and that’s my opinion. So get out there and push yourselves a little – or not. Baby kicker.

RUN NYC: A Beacon of Hope and Prosperity in a Dark and Scary Tomorrow

2008-09-04T19:17:00.000-04:00

Strong title right? The post isn't going to live up to the hype - sorry.

Anyway, as the six of you know, (the readership is growing by the SECOND), I work for the RUN NYC program, which is Nike's running program in New York City. I've put my time in on the bottom rung of all the programs, checking runners in at Run Club, freezing my arse off in February at the Runners' Station, doing bag check at Bridge Runners, putting in 30 straight hours on multiple event days, trekking up and down the east coast in the mobile van, and every other level of insignificant, significant, and magnificent task that's lead to the program kicking names and taking ass.

So I'm understandably protective of my runners, my programs, and my brand, in a very momma bear kinda way - beautiful to look at but get near my cubs and I'll gouge your fricken eyes out. Test me. I dare you.

So when blogs and message-boards started blowing up post Human Race about some of the difficulties on the course, I was pretty mindful of the responses. Granted, things weren't exactly peach pie out on Randall's, but all things considered it was hardly the worst thing that's happened in the history of the sport. I held my tongue.

And then this thread happened over at blogtastic NYC Blog Overlord Brian's Internal Pigdog. I've been reading over there for a while due to the fact my Runners' Station has come up in a post. And again when there was a SportBand debate. But I felt some of the comments here fell along an interesting line of Nike bashing that's apparently still pretty prevalent.

I'm of the belief that not every shoe is for everyone, but the Bowerman Series is on par with anything on the market. Trust me. I've done the trials, worn the shoes, heard the feedback, and I speak the truth. But Nike continues to fight the perception (based largely on mistakes in their not so distant past), that they make shoes with style not substance. Just no longer a true story.

And that's where I come in. RUN NYC is single handedly erasing these misconceptions by taking the product to the runners, listening to the reasons that Nike is too narrow, not stable enough, not flexible, not light, catches fire when bumped, etc., and saying, "Just try it." The results are incredible, and a quick look at the feet at the Run Club are proof the approach works. Once runners stop yapping about why they don't like Nike, and actually try them, the perception changes. They're no longer super narrow in the forefoot, the natural motion technology designed into the forefoot creates a very flexible and responsive ride, the Cushlon in the Vomereos is the softest substance known to man. The hits just keep coming.

So for all the naysayers and haterade drinking sheep sporting your 2100s, claiming no real runners rock the swoosh, come out to Niketown on Tuesday or Thursday night at 6:00PM or Saturday mornings at 8:30AM. Give me a chance to strap you into something that isn't an Air Max 360 or Shox, and give the ORIGINAL running brand the chance to show you their back. It's free, and it comes with a side of pineapple.

The Perfect Run by: Teresa Casaburri

2008-08-29T14:19:00.000-04:00

I just got this email from my girl Teresa. Anyone who's tried to run the tip or does the east side paths, has gotten into this. Every time it happens I'm totally like WTF? Good stuff. Thanks T.

The race t-shirt I received at the Kenny Dolan 5k this summer reads "Running is a mental sport…and were all crazy!" I have known this since I started distance training. I knew it when I got lost on an 18 miler in Bumpass VA, and had to hitchhike back to my friend's house, only to thank my driver, turn around and finish the run. I knew it after the NYC marathon when all I could do was smile while everything from my neck down felt like a melting popsicle. But if crazy is a mountain, I hit the summit yesterday.

As a runner, I do my best to stay as committed to my "personal life" as I do to my "running life". I strive to create a harmonious balance between the two and to not let running trump everything else. Yesterday was no exception. I knew I was going to have to work, pick up a race packet at 57th street Niketown and run 8 miles before I met up with my roommates, Dano and Toni, to finish packing and cleaning our apartment before the move. I figured the best way to do it was change into my running clothes after work and run uptown along the east side paths to Niketown, collect the packet and take the subway back to my apartment to meet up with the girls by 7:30 PM.

For the runners who are reading this, you will agree that sometimes runs can be perfect. Yesterday, the first 6.75 miles of mine, was. The sky was so sharp that I had fabulous views of all my favorite NY bridges, the crowds were at a minimum and I felt fast and strong as I moved at a swift 7:45 minutes per mile pace. I laughed as I passed a sign that said "5 MILES PER HOUR" on the run/bike path that occasionally allows cars on it and thought "But how will I ever qualify for the Boston Marathon if I am only running at a 12:00 minutes per mile pace?"

The path of the East River Park narrowed as I blasted up the east side. Since I am not that familiar with those paths, I watched people in front of me for direction. But it wasn't before long I had passed all of them and realized I was sailing this ship alone. In hindsight, I should have taken that as a red flag. I mean, is there anywhere in NY that there are NO other people? But the music playing on my I pod was ON and so was I. There was NO WAY I was going to let a narrow sidewalk break up my stride.

Well, the "narrow sidewalk" soon turned into a "non existent sidewalk" and the next thing I knew I was running on the FDR Highway! But I COULDN'T stop! I was only 1.25 miles away from finishing "the PERFECT run"! I figured I could ignore the air stream coming off of the cars driving at 55MPH until the rush hour traffic slowed and it would be safe to cross the north bound traffic. .08 Miles later, I saw a break in the traffic and bolted at the divider. As I mentally patted myself on the back for my nice sprint, I heard the sound that NO ONE wants to hear on the FDR. Sirens.

I thought to myself "Oh man, someone is getting pulled over, that stinks." I couldn’t get caught up in it though, because I still needed to figure out how I was going to cross the southbound traffic while keeping pace and without being road kill. But the sirens were so loud that I could tell without looking that the poor sucker who was getting pulled over was right behind me. The sirens suddenly stopped and the officer yelled "MAM, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

As I turned to face the officer, I noticed that he had stopped ALL THREE LANES OF TRAFFIC! The angry faces on the drivers, and this officer's tone of voice told me NOT to answer "I am training for the Chicago marathon and this was the only time and way I could get my miles in for the day". So, I morphed out of "Runner T" and into "Good citizen T". I apologized, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, put my head down and put my wrists out so he could cuff me. But instead of slapping the silver bracelets on me, the officer hollered at me "GET IN THE CAR RIGHT NOW!"

I sat sweaty, yet frozen in the humbling backseat of the cop car while the officer called in the "Female crossing the FDR". I could hear the anger in his voice. Clearly, this officer was not amused by my dedication to training. I knew all I could do at this point was hope. I hoped he wouldn’t arrest me, I hoped the precinct was more than 1.25 miles away, so I could make up the distance that I had lost, I hoped that this wouldn’t go on my permanent record, I hoped that I could get home on time to help with the apartment and I hoped that I would learn from this. I think the officer could see the fear in my eyes because once we got off of the FDR and into the city he let me go. But before he did he asked me "Do you know where you are going?" I thanked him and told him that I did.

As I ran the rest of the 1.25 miles of "the perfect run" through the crowded city, I thought about what the officer asked me before he let me go and my response. Yes, as a runner I always have plans carved out of "where I am going" and "how many miles I need to get there". And while sometimes it is easy for me to forget to appreciate the rest of life outside of "the plan", I value the officer reminding me of how important flexibility is. If there is one thing I learned yesterday, it's this: Do not ever underestimate the power and beauty of flexibility; you never know when it is going to stop traffic.

H2C Follow-up

2008-08-26T02:18:00.000-04:00

You can check my play by play account of Nike Hood to Coast here: http://h2cblogstravaganza.blogspot.com

But let me just say that it was one of the sickest things I've ever done. I've been to Boston, I've been involved with NYC, I've been involved with the US Marathon Trials for men and women, and there is something that is so unique, and so awesome about H2C that is so unlike anything else. It's nothing I didn't state 100 times in the other blog so check it out. Word is bond.

H2C

2008-08-20T22:01:00.000-04:00

So I'm leaving on a jet plane in about 10 hours for Portland, Oregon to run in Nike's Hood to Coast, and I've decided to start a H2C blog to document the experience. Considering how bad I am with the updates here I don't know why I think I'll do any better with a new space, but it's worth a try.

Check it here: http://h2cblogstravaganza.blogspot.com/

Reasons I Love Running

2008-08-12T05:23:00.000-04:00

I can’t sleep. I can’t even develop the elements of sleep. And being that I didn’t sleep last night I have no idea why this is so difficult. I’m exhausted, and it’s not even like there’s anything good on in the Olympics. I've watched rowing and international boxing for the last three hours.

So I’ve decided to make a post about 10 things I love about running. Not the top 10 – just 10. I have a feeling this will grow, and the three of you can feel free to give your 5, or 10, or 1000. Whatever.

I like the fact that running is completely calculateable, (if that’s a word, if not I’d like to substitute measurable, able to be measured, quantifiable or something that means it’s something you can add up on a weekly basis and compare against yourself and others.) If you go to the gym five days a week you don’t say that you did 172 concentration curls last week. You don’t total up the amount you bench pressed by weight. You don’t count how many seconds you spent in the bent over dog at yoga class, or brag about how many times you were up and down the court in a basketball game. But you ask most runners how many miles he did last week and they’ll give you the number to the tenth of a mile. We take pride in that number. It’s like a badge of honor and an equalizer. It doesn’t matter that I’m doing 6:20 pace – if I’m only doing a 20 mile week and you’re doing 60 you win. It’s a great thing about the sport.

I love passing people. In the Park, on the WSH, on the track, in races, walking to work in the morning – whenever, wherever, there’s something completely primal about locking in on someone ahead of you like you’re a f-14 Raptor ready to drop them in the drink, kicking on the burners, climbing up their back all slick and quite-like, then dusting them with a finishing flurry as they kind of tail off and bail out. It’s like the Road Runner passing the Coyote while he’s riding an Acme rocket booster and roller skates. Coyote puts up a sign that says “Ooops”, promptly falls off a cliff, and you’re making honking sounds and darting out your tongue. Oddly something smells like burnt toast? There’s nothing wrong with relishing the feeling. It’s natural. I mean I’m not a sadist or anything, I just like to beat people.

I love new shoes. Well new gear of any type for that matter. As I was writing I did a quick count and I have 56 pairs of shoes. I wear maybe 3, so the rest is just to feed the addiction. Like a junkie to the rock I’m always looking for just one more hit. The Katanas in the Montreal color-way, the Lunatrainers in black with the silver swoosh, the Zoom Forever XCs (despite the fact I haven’t run an XC race since my freshman year in college.) Just let me smell them, touch them, absorb the sweet crisp aroma of new shoeness. Ahhhhhh. Right there. Love it. Bliss. Very good thing I’m working for my pusher because I’d hate to have to pull a Basketball Diaries move for a pair of Zoom Elites.

I love running in the snow. LOVE IT. L-O-V-E I-T. It’s probably one of my favorite things on earth (along with cleaning my ears and sleeping while the sun is up.) Last winter I went out with the Run Club on a night it was really coming down. There was probably two inches down when we got out there and the Park was empty other than the 50 people who had come to Niketown that night. It was really blowing, and I remember on the east side of the lower loops it was tough to breath without getting snowflakes rammed down your throat, but at the same time it was so quiet, calm, and peaceful. The snow kept getting laid down so every time it looked like my footprints were the first to get laid down, and everywhere you looked framed up into perfect Ansel Adams shot. It was probably the best run I’ve ever had, (I had good company as well D), and it was a real reminder of some of the great things running has to offer that you sometimes forget in the City.

I love running in the rain. (This is becoming a list of different types of precipitation I like to run in. After hail and amphibians I’ll move onto my favorite natural disasters and biblical plagues.) But I actually like rain for a completely different reason than snow. Growing up in Florida it’s 42 million degrees at all times – except maybe the summer when it actually gets hot. So you’re pretty much restricted to running at night, death by heatstroke, or running in the morning. I don’t do mornings, so almost all my running was done late – with the exception of when it would rain. Before the first drop hit the ground I was out the door with my Mom chasing me with a wooden spoon and calling me names, (not really but I’m Italian so that’s always how I picture Mama). For whatever reason you’re always a little faster in the rain. It possibly has to do with evolution; when man was made of sugar rain was our natural enemy? I don’t know; I’m not a confectioner. But there’s this feeling like you have to out run the drops. It’s a loosing battle, but many of my best runs have been the ones that have taken my shoes off the market for a few days.

I love the runs where you make a mistake, get lost, run too far one way or the other before realizing it, and you end up going WAY further than you wanted to. There you are at the top of the full loop of the Park and you’re dead. Nothing left. No money, no Metro Card, no way to get home other than running there. It hurts. You don’t want to be doing it, and half of you is so pissed that you left your ATM card sitting on the counter. But at the same time there are few feelings of accomplishment better than when you finally make it home. You’ve beat your own stupidity – or did you? Hmmm. Maybe a better question is did your inner runner actually beat you? I know right, mind blowing.

I love running quotes. They’re really the best, most motivational, most inspirational, poignant of all sports quotes. Maybe down the road, the next time I can’t sleep, I’ll make a list of my favorites.

I love running in New York City. I live in Times Square so I’m less than 8 running minutes from just about everything important in the Universe. And while most people avoid the hustle and bustle when they run, I’m drawn to it like Britney Spears to poor decisions and bad parenting. I like the streets, I like the landmarks, I like looking up and seeing Times Square, the Rock, Saint Patrick’s, the Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building, Grand Central, the United Nations, Flatiron, Union Square, Astor Cube, past Chinatown and Five Points, through the Canyon of Heroes, past the Bull, circle around the Staten Island Ferry Terminal so I can go under the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridge, cut back across and pass MSG and Penn Station, before heading home. Name one other place on earth where a 9 mile run has that much awesome mixed in? And? And? I thought so sucka.

Extension of that…I love running through Midtown. Earlier this year I pitched a concept for a program where Uptown, Midtown, and Downtown was compared to the type of art that best captures the cultures and feel of the neighborhood. That was compared to the type of running that takes place there. I’ll spare the details for another post but I compared Midtown to Mondrian who is best known for his use of straight lines arranged in grid like patterns with solid colors. The boxy, plain, emotionless, blank., grids perfectly mirror Midtown’s orderly, system of red lights, one ways, and clean concise thinking. It’s systematic, and predictable. 8th always runs north, 45th always runs west, and with few anomalies that’s what Midtown is all about. You go on green, stop on red, go faster on yellow. That is of course, unless of course you’re a runner. Short of being attacked by Cloverfield I don’t stop for anything. Red, yellow, lavender, walk or not, I’ve granted myself a permanent little guy walking, and I’ll be damned if cars and cabs are going to mess with that. I’ve created a foolproof method of getting through intersections with the basic belief that if I get through I win, and if they hit me I sue and I win. It’s pretty much the basis of all my runs.

I love the sprint to the finish. You’re already dead. You’ve been dead for 6 miles. You’ve spent the last 35 minutes trying to decide if you even want to finish or if you want to take a cab to the finish and get your bag before you have t o face your friends. People are passing you like you’re handing out $200 bills. There’s not an ounce our gas in the…wait, is that the finish? All of a sudden you’re Tyson-F-ing-Gay dropping a sick sprint to the finish. Where does it come from? How does it happen? Why couldn’t that have been spread across the last 6 miles where you wanted to yack? No one knows, no one gets it, but there’s something about that burst that makes you forget about even the worst race because all you can remember is, “I had a lot left in the tank.”

Wow…that was a lot. So what. Ple1 – making it rain.

Hood To Coast Legs

2008-08-12T00:08:00.000-04:00

As I've mentioned before I'll be running in Hood to Coast later this month, which is pretty much the dopest relay race in all the land. 12 people, 190 something miles, up a mountain, down a mountain, around a mountain - there's a coast of some type involved? I'm really not sure - I'm not a geographer. But I do know that it's one of the single coolest event a runner is likely to do - especially when it's free, because free things are rarely less than awesome.

And then I got my leg assignments - and holy F-ing A. I get hazing the new guy but this takes it to the next level.

I start off on leg 5 - it's classified as "Very Hard" and it basically starts off down a hill before climbing for the better part of 6 miles.

I get a break in the middle ("break")with leg 17 - a 5.69 leg that's flat as a Chinese gymnast.

Then I finish it off on a 6.14 jaunt on leg 29 where I run half the race directly up a mountain, and then drag my tired ass down trying as hard as possible not to fall on my face.

But again - it's Hood to Coast. I'd be willing to do it carrying an angry wolverine. Whatever dude. I'm out there to make it rain.

Run Hard Live Easy

2008-08-06T10:26:00.000-04:00

Nike might pay the bills but I'm all about giving credit where it's due, and Pearl Izumi's ad campaign is pretty F-ing brilliant if I'm their target market.

That's an older one but the one, but it kind of lays out the philosophy which smack's Reebok's Run Easy campaign in the face. I'll never wear their shoes, but I have a new respect for the brand.

Hood to Coast

2008-08-06T01:29:00.000-04:00

When it comes to the biggest events in the Nike world the Human Race is number one right now. If you haven't signed up for one of the 25 international cities or the FREE virtual race you probably suck to some degree, and there's a good chance no one likes you. You might be a witch? I dunno? We could drown you to find out but it seems easier to just sign up right? There's even a good possibilty you're not only not a good person and you're not only a witch but in fact a drain on humanity as a whole? BUT THERE's HOPE. Sign up at a Nike training run and I'll give you a high-five. A WHOLE 5!!! Maybe 10? WHO KNOWS?

But if there was a #2 in the Nike world it would be Hood To Coast. Hood to Coast is what happens when 12000 people decide they want to be awesome. 196 miles, 12 people, two days of awesome. Day, night, night, day, awesomeness. It's one of those running events that is definitive for a runner - much like doing Boston, NYC, or Chi.

And I...am...doing...it.

Honestly this is the biggest, most amazing, most fun, most gratifying thing that a runner can do. Get in a van with a bunch of friends and make it happen. I'm ridiculously proud to be involved. More to follow before Oregon...

NYC Half-Marathon Presented by NIKE

2008-07-23T00:02:00.000-04:00

This is what I'm up to the next four days - and I'm developing a super-sweet playoof beard to rock for it. REPRESENTATION!

Per http://inside.nikerunning.com

Whether you are a native New Yorker or someone coming into town specifically for the race, make sure to check out the following scheduled training runs and activities. Being a part of the NYC Half-Marathon Presented by NIKE is more than just the race.

If you’re looking for a place to go for a run throughout the week, NIKE offers a number of different training runs in New York City and Brooklyn. All of the training runs are FREE and provide bag check. Here is the weekly schedule:

Monday @ 6:30pm: NY Running Co.
Tuesday @ 6:30pm: NIKETOWN
Wednesday @ 6:30pm: Paragon Sports
Thursday @ 6:30pm: NIKETOWN
Saturday @ 9:00am: NIKETOWN
Saturday @ 9:00am: Starbucks (Park Slope, Brooklyn)
(NY Running Co. is on the second floor of The Time Warner Center in Columbus Circle. NIKETOWN is at 6 E 57th St btw Madison & 5th Aves. Paragon Sports is at 867 Broadway on the corner of 18th St. near Union Square. Starbucks in Park Slope Brooklyn is at 164 7th Ave between Garfield and 1st St.)

On Thursday, July 24th there will be a special Speaker Series for the NYC Half-Marathon. Specific topics will include course management, pre-race nutrition, race-day strategy, and how to handle certain weather conditions.

Speaker Series Topic: Half-Marathon Racing - NYC
Guest Speaker: Edie Perkins - former Brooklyn Half-Marathon winner and 1st NYRR member to cross the line in the NYC Marathon in ’05 & ’06.
Where: Atrium, adjacent to NIKETOWN
When: Thursday, July 24, following RUN NYC training run

Additionally, a special note to all RUN NYC members. There will be a post-race members-only tent in Battery Park, with special treats to celebrate your crossing the finish line. Access bracelets will be distributed after the Speaker Series event on Thursday, July 24.

Finally, starting Thursday, July 24 through Saturday, July 26, visit the NYC Half-Marathon Runner’s Experience held in the Atrium adjacent to NIKETOWN. Throughout the race expo, you’ll have the world of running at your fingertips. There will be course-specific pace bracelets to help you achieve your race-day goal, race shirt customization – ensuring that you will stand out in the crowd, gait analysis by NIKE Running experts, Nike+ education and trials and NYC Half-Marathon t-shirts, jackets, and caps.

Half-Marathon Race Information:
All entrants are required to pick up their numbers, scoring chips, and participant shirts (sizes subject to availability) in advance of the race at the Runner’s Experience. Materials can be picked up at the following times:

Thursday, July 24 - 10:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m.
Friday, July 25 - 10:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m.
Saturday, July 26 - 10:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m.

Again: Absolutely no race numbers or ChampionChips will be available on race morning.

On Sunday, July 27th the race begins at 7:00am in Central Park. All runners must be lined up in their appropriate pace corrals by 6:35am. Please note that there is a three-hour time limit to complete the course. For more information about race-day specifics and to view the course map, please www.nyrr.org.

This coming week features numerous ways to expand your connection with the running world. Make sure to take advantage of all of the great activities and events NIKE is offering. There is no better way to prepare for the NYC Half-Marathon Presented by NIKE.

NIKE+ Calibration

2008-07-19T17:53:00.000-04:00

It’s been a while since I started the Nike Plus discussion, but now that I’m back on the horse, it’s time to talk calibration. As discussed previously, whether you’re using a SportBand or a Nano and receiver, calibrating the system is crucial to getting accurate readings.

Essentially what you’re doing is resetting the equation to your particular cadence, so when calibrating it’s crucial that you’re honest with your pace.

Both systems handle this differently, but it’s just a variation of the same theme. First you need to find a measured distance. I feel like the most accurate readings come from a mile. It’s long enough to average out the slight differences in each stride, but not so long that these minute variations are going to cause your actual mileage to deviate. If you can find a track this is ideal. I like to stick to a middle/outside lane to make up for the fact 4 laps is actually short of a mile, and because it will keep your stride more true on the curves. But living in the city that’s not always an option - unless you head down to the East 6th Street Track or up to Riverside Park. My solution is finding a straight Avenue and doing 20 blocks. It’s pretty dead on.

To calibrate using a Nano:

From the Nike+ menu select “Settings”

Then “Calibrate”

Then “Sensor”

It will then give you some directions. Press OK.

Then it will ask walk or run. Choose “Run”

It will ask you to chose a distance. Like I said above I recommend 1 mile, so go to custom and move it to a mile.

Run the mile. Press OK, and that’s it. You’re calibrated.

Here’s a great link with pictures of the process.

To calibrate using the SportBand.

Run a mile using the band.

Bring it home and plug it in.

When the SportBand utility pops up hit the “I” icon in the lower right hand corner

Click on the Calibration tab

Increase or decrease the mileage of your last run to match the actual distance and save it.

That’s it, but anything else you’d need to know you can find here.

It’s all pretty easy but there are some things to note.

If you run 8 minute miles during training but you calibrate it doing 6:40 miles you’re not going to have accurate readings. And it’s the same the other way. So if you calibrate at training pace it’s not going to be accurate during a race.

Other things that effect the calibration are the shoes you’re using. The slight variations in where the senor sits in different models creates deviations that can change the calibration. This is even more so when you’re using a shoe pouch or for non-Nike+ ready shoes. The chip is designed to be in a certain location on the foot, so when you change that by placing it on top of the shoe, or in a pouch where it’s able to move around, those slight variations will lead to less accurate readings.

I hope that’s helpful to anyone looking to dial in their measurements.

I need to not not blog less often

2008-07-19T01:07:00.000-04:00

It’s ironic that the times that we need a run the most are often the opportunities we have the least time for it. The more stressed, and beat up, and frumpy we’re feeling the greater the tendency to push off the daily run for the next morning, which turns into that night, which becomes the next day, which turns into half past never. Which is where I find myself now…

Oh, BTW, my name is Paul. I blog here occasionally.

It’s been a while, but with the NYC Half Marathon next weekend, the Human Race a little over a month away, RUN NYC Run Club getting record numbers, the Runners’ Station’s new location driving more traffic than ever, the Hampton’s Marathon training runs going out of Gubbins Running Ahead every Sunday morning, among other things we have cooking, the Nike running world has been hectic as of late. And as work’s gotten crazy, I’ve been having trouble fitting in two consecutive fast steps let alone any decent mileage. With the miles has gone my health, my mood, and obviously my blogging.

So sitting in my office at midnight last night I decided to drop everything and just put in some miles. I went out way to fast. Ran way longer than I wanted to. And it was great. I woke up this morning and it was the first time in a month that I didn’t fear I was going to be dead by sundown.

Moral of the story? Running is good. Blogging about running is good. Being in the office to midnight on a Thursday is bad. Bad isn’t good.

Best Race EVAR

2008-07-03T15:03:00.000-04:00

Quick sidetrack on the Nike+ stuff but did anyone see the men's 800 final at the US Olympic Trials a few nights ago? Amazing. You'll probably have to watch more than once but at 400 meters the 1/2/3 are basically at next to last/last/3rd from last. This race got be so pumped that I've never wanted to go for a run as much as I did last night. Race starts at about 3:40.

How Does Nike+ Work

2008-06-30T02:18:00.000-04:00

So the first step in educating the world about Plus is explaining how the system works in the first place. First though I just want to issue this declaimer - I’m not a scientist, I don’t have a mechanical engineering degree, I’ve never owned a pocket protector or a lab coat, I get this strange clicking sound in my jaw occasionally that I can’t really figure out, and in general I’m not a certified expert on any of this. But chances are I know more about it than you and the evaluation was derived from several conversations with some of the developers. So as is the nature of the internet, if anyone wants to come in and nitpick and offer their own input on how the science behind the system works I’m open to correction…

In technical mumbo-jumbo Nike+ calculates pace using a one axis piezoelectric accelerometer that measures the brief pause between heel-strike and toe-off. I’ll spare you of a scientific evaluation of how an accelerometer works – mostly because I’m not that smart, but the basic premise is similar to how a Nintendo Wii. After determining these pauses it runs the data through a series of algorithms that determines if there is X amount of time between each midstance that means the average runner has traveled Y distance.

So in normal people speak it’s basically measuring how long your foot is off the ground when you’re in stride and using a formula to figure out how far a foot that’s off the ground for that amount of time should be going.
Simple.

This is similar to a pedometer which is basically measuring how many steps you’re taking and using that as the main data point. But different in that it’s taking a more advanced method of determining stride length and foot strike to get to the numbers.

With all that said the basic measurements are still highly dependant on human input. A major portion of the equation is the stride of the “average runner”. Who is this average runner and how much like you are they? Damn fine question that I don’t have an answer to. Every runner is different – stride length, how long you’re in the “float phase”, foot strike, pace, etc., all make every runner a little different. So this “average runner” the device comes calibrated for is likely not you. Out of the box the device is calibrated for an 8 minute pace, so if you’re like me and you’re faster than that you’ll find that the feedback is slower than you’re going, if you have a shorter than average stride the device will read slower, and a dozen other variations of this basic premise.

This is why calibrating is such a big deal. Through calibration you’re able to tweak the formula to match your particular running style…

But I think that’s enough for now. I hope that was somewhat helpful. Next post I’ll go over calibration, how it’s done, and how it can be made more accurate.

Nike+: Everything you've ever wanted to know but were too lazy to ask

2008-06-26T02:28:00.000-04:00

Working for Nike, I've been running with Nike+ pretty much every time I've laced up since it launched two years ago. I'm seriously as addicted to plus as the bum outside my apartment right now is addicted to smelling bad and speaking in barely coherent sentence fragments while drooling. He might also be on crack but who am I to speculate? But while he could probably take a shower and stay off the rock I can't even run to catch a bus without being able to log those 40 feet. It just seems wasteful to not being able to log them.

But from being in the field and around the Blogosphere I constantly hear/read the same complaints about the device not being accurate. People are constantly remarking that logs in short, or long, or slow, or fast, or it's been stealing money off the counter and eyeing their girlfriend - it's always something. Occasionally these gripes have merit - there have been glitches in the matrix along the way, and through the years I've seen and heard them all. However, for every legit complaint, there's a hundred more that are the result of improper use, or a general misunderstanding of the technology. I blame the interweb.

With that in mind I'm going to do a service to the six of you (traffic is picking up), and do a multipart series on the ins and outs of the system to help educate people on how to use it properly for the best results - the way it works, why using a shoe pocket reduces the accuracy, some known quirks that are a result of how the technology works, how to calibrate and why calibration is important, and anything else I can think of. I'm a bekon of Nike+ knowledge and I want the masses to follow me on the road towards logged mile bliss. In that way I'm a holy man.

I'm going to put some thought into the best way to go about this, so in the meantime if Laura or Chia have questions this would be a good time to ask.

Will this be the single most informative plus asset across the information superweb? Probably - so bare with me because in the following week I'll be dropping knowledge like Ma Fratelli dropped Sloth.

Songs to Powerize

2008-06-23T02:26:00.000-04:00

Kind of off topic, but I’m a pretty big on running with music – which works out well considering Nike+ is a major component of my job. A statement that in itself is kind of awesome considering when most people describe components of their job they have to replace “Nike+” with “TPS reports”, or “putting numbers into boxes.” Score: me – 1, other people – 0.

Anywho, lately my unofficial Powersong has been “Ize of the World” by The Strokes. In general The Strokes make good running music, but the way “Ize of the World” kind of builds in intensity makes it a nice pick-up. By the time the song ends I’m typically in a full sprint trying to figure out why I’m on 125th and Broadway.

Until tonight I really had no idea what the song was about so I decided to check the lyrics, and surprisingly it’s more than just a cool beat. That’s it.

I think I know what you mean but watch what you say 'cause they'll be trying
to knock you down in some way. Sometimes it feels like the world is falling asleep.
How do you wake someone up from inside a dream?
Your mind would wander and search for its place in the night.
Your body followed this feeling like following light.
Once that your music was born it followed you 'round and then it gave
your activities meaning and let you be loud. You're sad but you smile.
It's not in your eyes. Your eyeballs don't change.
It's the muscles around your eyes.
An egg to fertilize,
A pulse to stabilize,
A body to deodorize,
A life to scrutinize,
A child to criticize,
Young adults
to modernize,
Citizens to terrorize,
Generations to desensitize.
Your dreams are sweet and obsessed and you're overworked.
You're overtaken by visions of being overlooked. How disappointed would
D.(ead) I.(dealistic) D.(esperate) I.(inventor) P.(ioneer) P.(hilosophers) be to see
such power in our hands all wasted on greed? Am I a prisoner to instincts
or do my thoughts just live as free and detached as boats to the dock?
Just like when music was born and detached from your heart.
Is your free time to free minds or for falling apart?
Night after night you turn out the light.
You don't fall asleep right away.
"Are we... are we done?"
A desk to organize,
A product to advertise,
A market to monopolize,
Movie stars to idolize,
Leaders to scandalize,
Enemies to neutralize,
No time to apologize,
Fury to tranquilize,
Weapons to synchronize,
Cities to vaporize.

Why I'm a Runner

2008-06-17T01:15:00.000-04:00

I've read on a couple different blogs lately that have either tried to define what a runner is, or why someone runs. It's apparently a very common question on runners' mind's this summer. It struck me as interesting when my girl Laura from Absolutly Fit dropped 27.5 miles then posed the question, "At what point do you define yourself as a runner?" I've run with Laura and never would have questioned whether she was a runner or not - she is. But it raises an interesting point...

I mean I can throw a bunch of finger paint on a canvas but that doesn't make me an artist. Or chuck some fruit in a pie crust without deserving the title of baker. Or tackle a European tourist in the middle of 8th Ave and no one is going to buy that I'm an international rugby sensation - especially not the police or the district attorney who don't have a sense of humor when it comes to some German named Gunter sprawled out unconscious in front of Ben and Jerry's. Point is there is some merit in not only doing something, but doing it well. Doing it with style and a certain level of skill. So with that in mind I can see why someone rocking a 10 minute pace would have apprehension about defining them self as a runner.

It actually goes to a long-standing belief I have that while there's more people entering races, and buying shoes, and clogging up the lower loop in Central Park with zero understanding of the etiquette of the road - running as a sport is actually in a state of decline. While it's getting tougher to get into the NYC Marathon with 200,000 people clamoring for 45,000 spots, too many of the people waiting at Fort Wadsworth on November 2nd will be completely under trained and walking by mile 7. The problem is there's too much emphasis on just finishing rather than finishing to the best of ones ability. More people who are content just to cross the line, but don't put in the sacrifices to make it there. More people who think their $120 shoes, and $40 DriFit shirts, and $15 socks, (which are by the way the best waste of $15 you can ever make,) mean that they're runners.

Many/most probably are, but I disagree that just entering the race or even finishing makes you a runner, and it's actually not about speed.

The thing that separates "real" runners from the dude that will be walking down Bedford Ave with an ear to ear grin even though he went out at an 8 minute pace and is blazed by mile 10, is the sacrifices the "runners" will be making in the three months before they're toeing the starting line. It's the 6AM runs, and getting out the door in the rain, and snow, and 94 degree weather. It's the long runs, and bloody nipples, and speed work, and blisters. It's the commitment to putting in the pain it takes to become better, and continuing to strive for it.

But more than anything I think a runner is defined by our ability to overcome our own self imposed limitations, dig down into the dark recesses of our own wills, and gut it out despite the fact that there's nothing left. You become a runner the first time you push through a long run even though you want to quit, or PR despite the fact you don't really have it that day, or just go out and push yourself on a random Wednesday night faster or further than you've gone before. It's addictive, and fulfilling, and no matter how fast or slow you're moving it's a euphoria that you can get at any pace.

So when can you define yourself as a runner? It's a personal thing, but the good part is that you get a chance to answer the question every time you lace up.

As the most interesting man in the world would say: "Stay thirsty my friends."

Runvertising

2008-06-12T02:42:00.000-04:00

Moving off the last post I started getting into the running ads that I really dig. I crafted a longer post explaining why I find these to be so appealing, but I’ll leave it at this: The ads I found to be authentically runnery have a level of quirk to them that borders on dorky. But that makes complete sense considering runners are inherently dorky. Not in a negative way at all, and I actually think most of us have a sense of pride in the amount of dork we throw into the craft. It’s probably not the only way to touch a chord in the kind of person who finds abusing themselves for 26 miles a good time, but it certainly isn’t a bad one. Here, in no particular order, is what strikes me. Enjoy.

Feed the Warrior

2008-06-08T15:48:00.000-04:00

Say what you will about Mr. Armstrong but you gotta respect a man who survived brain, lung, and testicular cancer and then had a guest spot in Dodgeball. But moreso you have to love his Dick's Sporting Goods commercials. Totally love them.

Running Epiphany

2008-06-06T00:46:00.000-04:00

In the movie Big Lebowski philosopher, woodsman, and all around hardcore dude Sam Elliot tells the Dude, "Sometimes you eat the bear, and sometimes, well, he eats you." Of course in the movie this sounds more like "bar" which would also make a lot of sense because I've certainly encountered and been drunk under several of these man-eating bars - and trust me, one day the streets will run red with their blood.

But this example serves to prove my long held notion that cowboys were the warrior poets of the Wild West - drinking whiskey, chasing banditos, dispensing well timed advice - occasionally mouth kissing one another. But despite their tendency towards homoeroticism, cowboys are like hundredteen times more philosophically adept than equally awesome archetypal characters like ninja warriors, old Indian chiefs, and the real big Viking with the super sweet horn hat on. This is one of those undebateable facts of life.

Cowboys, however, aren't really the point here. The point is that sometimes life is a peachy bowl of happy happiness, and other times you lock your keys in the car while it's running and it's raining outside, and your cell phone is dead, and you're in rural Georgia and you start hearing banjos. This can occasionally be the kind of moment that leads to this kind of reaction. Or something slightly less dramatic depending on how you roll.

So on a particularly shitastic day this week I decided to drop everything and split for a mid-day run. I mean the dude in the video had already stolen my thunder so I didn't have a choice. In a very sadomasochistic way figured I’d find clarity through pain. Kind of like a Native American vision quest without the peyote or sleep depervation.

I ran up 8th Ave and turned east through the lower section of the park, charging Cat Hill, flying past the Rez, passing the skating rink on the north side of the park at a break-neck pace – and coming up on Harlem Hill it dawns on me... I'm completely spent. Like in that totally done kind of spent way where I just wanted a sandwich and a nap. I had my Metro Card so I could have turned off and grabbed the A train at any point, but that’s just not the runner’s mentality. For me the whole reason I run is to find myself at those junctures and getting the satisfaction that I pushed through it. So I spent the next four miles playing the, “If I make it to that tree I’ll stop. If I get to that bush I’ll stop, if I…” game.

I obviously didn't stop - uh, obvi - who blogs about that time they were a quiter? But by the time I rolled back to my apt 40 something minutes and 8 miles later it all kind of clicked.

In life and running you hit the points where it’s easy to grab the A train. Turn off. Stop. But success at both is all about being able to grin and bare it through the tough parts and recognize that without the bitter the sweet’s not as sweet.

Typically all I get from running is increased cardiovascular fitness and well toned legs, so to find enlightenment too was a nice bonus. And all without having to maim anyone with a computer monitor.

Runners' Station Relocated

2008-05-30T22:40:00.000-04:00

I understand that all three people who read this, (including myself,) know this already, but the Runners' Station has moved to Harrison Street and the West Side Highway. No idea where Harrison Street is? Why would you? Check out this post and come out there Sunday night at 6:00 when I'll be hosting a run. Hope to see all three of you there.

read more here

Declarations, Statements, and the Whites

2008-05-27T14:09:00.000-04:00

FACT: I haven't posted on this thingy since the days of Yesterfar. A magical time that only seems so far far away, but was actually about two weeks ago. Ah, Yesterfar, how we miss thee.

FACT: It's difficult to formulate witty and insightful posts about the sport of running when you in fact have not run in weeks. It would be like {insert relevant pop diva} posting about having {insert a humorous musing about self respect or humility}.

FICTION: I'm above making such references.

FICTION: I haven't run in two weeks because my foot hurts.

FACT: I've cunningly used that as an excuse to be lazy and not run.

FACT: White people love New Balance.

FACT: I ran both tonight and last night and I forgot how to be good at it. I was all winded and tired and junk. That ain't pimp.

FACT: It really isn't pimp at all. Not that running is pimp or pimps run, but you'd be shocked what comes up in a Google image search using various combinations of "pimp" and "running".

FACT: I actually did such a search. Just kinda how I roll.

FICTION: I have more facts.

Brooklyn Half Race Report

2008-05-05T01:02:00.001-04:00

I lined up for the Brooklyn Half on Saturday with drastically lowered expectations over my original grandiose notion of using it to qualify for the NYC Marathon. That wasn’t happening. I knew it wasn’t happening. I had come to terms with it not happening. I even blogged about the fact it wasn’t going to happen – but I was still going to give myself a shot at doing it, which of course meant going balls to the wall for as long as humanly possible. It turned out to be not very long.

But what the hell right? I had no idea what to expect so I might as see where I’m at. Never mind the fact I logged a total of 10 miles since doing 16 in Boston two weeks earlier, or that I had taken two weeks off about a month ago because of an injury, or the fact that I was still sore from a softball game on Monday. None of those facts came to mind when I decided that I would be able to eat up Brooklyn like I was Kobayashi and the Half was a pile of franks.

I actually felt pretty good at the start but by mile three it was pretty obvious to me I wasn’t going to be breaking 1:23. I was a solid :30 seconds under pace at that point, and was feeling decent, but I just didn’t have it in me to keep it up. I tried to back off but by mile 5 I realized that even slowed down I was in trouble. I was still under pace but I was getting passed like the dude waving the green flag at a NASCAR race.

I passed through mile 7 still under pace, and therein began the fall. The next 6.1 miles were a hell like I’ve never experienced. The only way more people could have passed me is if I was dressed like a salmon and tried to run upstream.

Entering the park some guy actually looked at me, saw the obvious desperation in my eyes, and muttered an unconvincing, “Looking strong.”

But in all actuality I wasn’t in that bad of shape at that point, and when I checked my splits at mile 10 I was actually thought for a second, just for a glimmer of a moment, I can still do this.

And I did – as long as by “it” I meant completely fall apart. I don’t have exact figures but by my best estimates I did 7:30 miles over the last three to finish the race in 1:27:13.

To recap: I’m not really disappointed. Maybe even the opposite. When I pulled up my training over the last month I did less than 50 miles – for the month. And that included a 16 mile run in Boston. To expect to drop a 1:23 out of the box with next to no training was kind of absurd. But more halfs will be run, more training will be had, more absurd statements will be made. So no use saying I’m brining it – It’s been brought.

Brooklyn Half

2008-04-30T02:38:00.000-04:00

So I've all but given up on the grandiose notion that I'd be able to head into Brooklyn this weekend, rock out a 1:23, and coast into the NYC Marathon. Frankly I have no idea what the hell I was thinking. Maybe I figured I could use magic? Or drink unicorn blood until I was Keyan? Who knows. In retrospect it seems one part bad math, one part underestimating how difficult a half marathon is, and one part being completely and totally full of myself - maybe even two and a half parts of that.

Even if a glimmer of hope still existed, I'm so sore from my first softball game of the year - ON MONDAY! Which reminds me...when did I become old? Four days later and I'm still so sore that sleeping hurts.

I'm still going to run it - not because there's part of me that thinks there's still a chance, there really isn't. But there's something distinctly refreshing about making a ridiculous claim, realizing there's no backing it up, and then running until I vomit. We can only hope that while I'm laying semi-concious on the side of Ocean Parkway, the aubulence drivers will let me hit the siren. WoooooooWooooooooWoooooo!!!

Boston Part II

2008-04-26T23:41:00.000-04:00

This is way past the fact but the Boston Marathon last Monday was slightly F-ing spectacular. Life changing even. Like finding out that Mickey Mouse killed a guy in ’72 over a drug debt. I love Mickey. How could he do that? But there’s a blood stained shirt and affidavits that once he gets a few in him he gets all stabby. While I can’t confirm that, I do know that I’m a different man since Beantown. I jumped in at mile 11 a boy and turned off the course at mile 24 a boy that wants to run a marathon. Not quite a man, but no longer just a dude who likes to do three milers through Times Square.

So what’s the next step? Welllllllllllll. Fact is that I want to pop my marathon cherry in the NYC. This is my city, this is my home, this should be my first marathon. I want to distribute 26.2 miles worth of high fives. Take it from the SI into the BK, kill some Queens, cross into Manhattan and distribute the ^5s like I’m being contracted by a high five distribution organization, trudge through the Bronx, and get back into Manhattan ready to rock and F-ing roll. Then rock Central Park like I’m the Beatles in ’68.

Despite the fact that we’re theoretically not allowed to run the race because of work, I really am not looking at NYC as something I want to do well – just do.

But to get there I need to qualify. Theoretically, I could probably just get in with some help, but there’s nothing that appeals to me about being in a race I didn’t earn. So I’ve got one chance to make it happen and that’s this coming weekend in Brooklyn. I have to turn a 1:23 over a distance I’ve never even come close to racing, at a pace I have zero chance of keeping, on a course I’m going to fall apart on. I haven’t run a race longer than a 10K in years, but now I’m going to turn a half at sub 6:20…Sweet.

More is coming but my B-Town run is attached along with my shots from the race.

Boston Part I

2008-04-21T01:35:00.000-04:00

I'm running Bos-tan.

I dunno. 13 miles but pretty F-ing pumped. Rocking 11 - 24. I'll log this bad boy later. But if you're near the finish have a laghar waiting. Wicked sweet.

The Return

2008-04-15T02:29:00.000-04:00

Running is a cruel and fickle mistress. Some days it fills your heart and soul with beautiful music, and the next you catch the early flight home from San Diego and a couple of nude people jump out of your bathroom blindfolded like a goddamn magic show ready to double team your girlfriend. Such is the way of the sport.

So after a couple months of Mozart-esk running bliss I spent the past two weeks in injury recovery mode waiting for my foot to heal. I had been feeling pretty dope-tacular before the injury, so spending the time riding the pine was kind of a bummer. When I finally laced them up last night I got a quick lesson in how fleeting being in shape is. Just two weeks and my physical fitness has faded faster than Britney’s looks.

I was hoping yesterday’s run was just an anomaly, but I dropped another four tonight and I’m hurting. I’m slow, my legs are heavy, hills have been kicking my ass, and I’m getting winded just tying my shoes. Normally this wouldn’t really be a problem, it’s just a couple weeks back on the horse and everything will be right as rain. However, I’ll be banditing part of the Boston Marathon next Monday to help pace a friend up Heart Break Hill and I don’t know if I’ll make it right now.

Granted she’s planning on going a touch under 8 minute pace so I should theoretically be able to roll out of bed and knock that out backwards, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’m a little worried. With all my talk leading up about the run being a walk in the park I’m going to have a long ride home if I’m bailing at mile 6.

More importantly, I was really amped about the run. Boston is like the holy grail of running. It’s almost as if every time it’s title is even mentioned a glistening white light should shine from the heavens and a choir of angels should coo. But chances of me rocking the 3:10:59 qualifying time to ever run the race legit is pretty F-ing slim. I watched the race last year and in my eyes it’s everything running purists build it up to be. If you have any love for the sport it’s hard to be in Boston for the week leading up without getting caught up in the mystique. So after five days completely immersed in the scene I’m going to be chomping at the bit to get out there.

But I guess pushing through is what being a runner is all about. So for anyone up there next week check me from miles 10 – 23.

My Injured is More Injured Than your Injured

2008-04-01T02:29:00.000-04:00

The first round of the New York Tournament Challenge ended at midnight on Saturday – or Sunday, depending on what day you attribute the minute after 11:59PM on Saturday to. Considering my day doesn’t officially end until I start getting my three hours of sleep I’m going with Saturday. If you don’t like that we can have words playa. Bring it!

Anyway, I had a sneaking suspicion that Team .2 was trying to hoodwink the group by sandbagging in the final week, and then dropping silly sick miles right before the buzzer. It would turn out later that night that they were in fact sucking as much as it had previously seemed, rather than just formulating a cunning plot to lull the Claudites (Team Claude’s loyal minions) into a false sense of security.

But with this potential ruse in mind I set out Saturday night prepared to throw down mean mileage the likes of which I hadn’t touched since my freshman year of college.

I decided to play a game of just the tip and take my run down the West Side Highway, around the southern tip of the island, up to 46th and back across to 8th. I figured it would be close to 13 miles, and enough to make me feel like I contributed something to the cause. I didn’t feel great, I wasn’t properly hydrated, the top of my right foot was so sore that I considered calling it a night after mile four, but 13.1 miles later I clocked in with a semi shockingly quick 1:24 without really pushing too hard. I felt good, my legs had a lot left and I was happy – until three hours later when I couldn’t put any pressure on my left foot.

****Caution: Scientific quackery to follow****

I was pretty surprised with the time but more surprised that I had injured my left foot despite feeling fine during and after the run. But over the last few days I’ve realized that the runner’s body is a finely tuned machine, the likes of which should not be tampered with by making unnecessary footwear changes.

Ya see, after running in a pair of size 11 Vomeros for the better part of the last year, I came across an extra pair of size 10.5s and decided that they would be a better fit for me. Now I realize that the half size was enough of a change to totally throw my feet out of the game leading to a freak injury.

Now I’m no podiatrist, exercise physiologist, biomechanical specialist, or sports orthopedist – I’m a runner. So this scientifical evaluation of what happened may be completely baseless gibberish. I’ve been known to produce my fair share over the years and this is no exception.

What I do know is that the size 11 Vomero had a little more room in the forefoot than I liked, and I know that I’d been sizing down to 10.5 in a lot of shoes lately because Nike has been widening the forefoot of most models to accommodate the average runner’s complaints that Nike’s were traditionally narrow. I’d been running in size 11s Vomeros for the last year partially because that’s what my size has been listed as so that’s what I always get when shoe orders get placed, but also because my left foot is a half size larger than my right so I’m pretty flexible with either a 10.5 or 11. What I didn’t realize is after putting my last 300 miles, (which has been a real turning point in my running) down in a pair of size 11s, my foot had grown accustom to the placement of the sipping and flex groves in the size of that shoe.

We’re talking maybe an eight of an inch difference in the main metatarsal flex point in the forefoot of the 10.5s and 11s, but that tiny bit was enough to move the flex point of the shoe away from where my foot naturally flexed. The result was that shortly after I started running in the 10.5s I injured the top of my right foot.

At the time I assumed it was due to lacing too tight, and I used a skip lacing technique – skipping the 3rd eyelet to try to relieve the pressure on that part of the foot. In retrospect it had little to do with the lacing and more to do with the fact that the slight difference in the flex groove position was impeding the shoe from flexing naturally with my foot on toe-off. My foot naturally continued to flex the way my foot naturally flexed, but without the shoe working with it the shoe was creating a pressure point on my foot with every step.

I found myself scrunching my foot forward during my runs to try to find a more comfortable point – again, in retrospect I was actually trying to move my foot towards where it would be positioned in the size 11s to align myself with the flex groove.

I finished the run, albeit in a bit of pain but nothing catastrophic. But that’s when the real trouble began. Shortly after my run I noticed severe pain in the lateral side of my left foot. Mind you my left foot was fine before the run, fine during the run, and fine after the run. But a couple hours later and I couldn’t put pressure on it. Three days later and it’s possibly worse.

I have no time to seek a real medical evaluation so I’ll be taking a few days off to see if things heal up on their own, but lesson learned. Much respect due to the foot and the size 11. I no longer will stray. Ouchy.

My Fast is Faster Than Your Fast

2008-03-27T14:43:00.000-04:00

Spurred on by the Nike commercial below I started speaking in SPARQ language yesterday – which while extremely annoying to everyone in my office, was probably a big relief to my girl Xtina who I’ve been talking to in lolcat language for the past week. Christina iz not lik when iz talkz like catz. (I’m seriously obsessed with these things.)

But really how fast is my fast? This has been the main question on my running mind for the past month. I know my fast is fast. Not like my boy Worku Beyi's kind of fast. He has a fast that’s faster than fast. Elite kind of fast. My fast just ain’t that fast. In that context my fast isn’t even really that fast at all. Even at my fastest my fast is just faster than the fast of most peoples fast who aren’t that fast. Well, to be honest I’d say that my slow is faster than most people’s fast, but considering this city’s slow is pretty slow having a slow that’s faster than slow people’s fast isn’t really saying much about my fast at all.

But my fast has been getting faster. My fast is currently probably as fast as my fast has been since college – and in college my fast was pretty fast. But the point remains that while I know my fast is fast and getting faster I still I have no idea how fast my fast is.

I got a peak last night when I had to book it from Midtown to the Chrystie Street track, to avoid being late for the Bridge Runners. But it’s hard to take much from tearing ass through the city ducking and weaving through pedestrian traffic and gridlock.

The only real way to find out is to enter a race and put the fast of my fast to a test of fast. Looks like that might happen on April 13th – but I don’t know yet, and I’m going to have to decide – fast.

Unmuggabilityism

2008-03-26T04:12:00.000-04:00

This link from the super awesome Mind of a Runner blog about a runner who was recently stabbed and mugged while running in the Park really got me thinking. Considering that 90% of my running is done in situations that are in the very least risky for a dude in tights, and possibly moronic, I’m probably a prime candidate to run into a stabby vagrant one dark night. But the more I think about it the more I’ve decided that I’m more concerned about alien abduction than being mugged while I’m out on a run.

Not to say that I’m not concerned at all about getting a shiv in my kidney, but it just seems like my quirky personality would make me a prime candidate for a good old fashion extraterrestrial exploratory probing, and that doesn’t sound like a good idea to anyone.

But as far as muggers go, runners in general seem like terrible targets. They’re sweaty, they smell bad, they’re moving around a lot, they’re typically not carrying anything of value. It’s like robbing a crackhead with an iPod. Obviously you don’t get into mugging because you have a history of making sound decisions, but you’d think even the novice mugger would be aiming a little higher than jacking a dude for a DriFit windbreaker.

But even if Mr Mugger decides that jacking a jogger is a good way of spending a Tuesday night, I’m still a terrible target. I mean it’s not like I’m just plodding along around Harlem Hill - on my typical training run I’m dropping 6:30 pace, and I just don’t see an urban camper with a ski mask being keen on cardio-vascular fitness. The thought actually makes me think of this commercial.

But say our mugger is jonesing to get his hands on my $12 Elite socks (just how I roll playa), and he’s decided it’s time for action, well I still run with a ninja-like alertness akin to an NHL goalie in the height of the play-off push. I’m constantly formulating what kind of roundhouse ninjitsu kill thrust I’m going to employee if confronted by a straggler looking to get in a donnybrook when I’m putting in a quick 4 at 4am. I hear a twig snap and I’m dropping the hammer like Michael Johnson at the ’96 Olympics.

So in conclusion, my real reaction to this article is tell the muggers, the vagrants, the crackheads, the vagabonds, and the all too common nogoodnicks to bring it. I’m out there, I’m running, and as long as you’re not one of the grays I’m ready, punk.

Intrigue, Suspense, Stupid Mileage: A Life of Bad Choices

2008-03-20T11:31:00.000-04:00

What posses someone who just left the office at 1:15AM after a 17 hour day to drop 10 plus miles, including two bridges, in the rain, at 2AM? Obviously a high degree of stupidity. Like smoking a cigarette while starting a gasoline fight kind of stupidity. A real self destructive, stupid vonStupid-pants brand of ignorance that is rare in people who make it past the age of 22. Typically the ilk who do things this dumb die young trying to jump a tank of angry sharks on a flaming unicycle, or get trampled by packs of something. I'm not really sure how I've gotten this far but it's never been on good decision making - especially after midnight. But it wasn't the mind numbing effects of alcohol that caused this debacle. No, something far more sinister was afoot. Team Claude.

When I laced up we were down 10 miles, so I set my Nike+ for 5 miles aqnd figured I'd at least split the difference, but heading south on 8th Ave I was feeling good. Really good. Apparently good enough that it didn't seem stupid when I headed east on Canal through Chinatown. At that point it really wasn't. I was rocking a new pair of Vomeros and moving pretty well as I headed east. So when I rolled up on the entrance of the Manhattan Bridge clocking in at about four miles in just over 24 minutes it didn't seem like that bad an idea to head into Brooklyn. It was Wednesday, and I normally roll with the Bridge Runners on their Wednesday night runs, so it almost made sense when I hit the five mile mark heading towards the Brooklyn Bridge.

And then the rain started.

But I was locked in at that point. No cash, no Metro Card, no turning back.

Back in Manhattan it was a pretty straight shot back to my Apt. - it's always easier when you know the finish line. So I went a little longer than I'd planned but it was a good run. 10.21 miles, 6:24 pace. Not bad for someone who's long overdue for a tragically hilarious end.

Coach Ramon

2008-03-19T19:44:00.000-04:00

Here's a great article on the Inside Nike Running Blog about RUN NYC and Team in Training Coach Ramon Bermo. Not only is he a great guy who is totally passionate about running, but there isn't a single person in the City who has helped more people reach personal goals. It's really great to be able to work with people like him and I'm glad he's getting props.

Article

RUN NYC Tournament Challenge

2008-03-19T00:52:00.000-04:00

Scientifical experimentational time...

What happens when you give 120 competitive runners iPods and NIKE+ Sport Kits, split them into four teams, give them some pretty awesome shirts, and tell them the team with the most miles wins?

First of all you get over 400 miles logged in the first two days. Impressive. But more interestingly, you turn a bunch of people who were otherwise content dropping an easy four in the Park, and you give them a reason to go longer, run more often, do two-a-days, and come together in the way only a team atmosphere can produce.

And that's why I'll be dropping silly sick Kenyan miles over the next few weeks. I've been doing about 40 for the last two weeks, but I'm already starting to plan my schedule around my running, and tomorrow I'll be embarking on a nice little morning jaunt to get the mileage up. I hate morning runs (considering 65% of my entries are about this fact it should come as no surprise, ) but for Team Claude I'm willing to go the extra mile...oh yeah, I went there.

See you in the park tomorrow suckas.

Niketown Speaker Series

2008-03-18T14:42:00.001-04:00

Running: The Ultimate Hangover Cure?

2008-03-17T01:14:00.000-04:00

Last week was rough on a number of levels, so when I finally got a chance to detach myself from work for a little while I took it to that silly level where shots flowed like water and tomfoolery ensued.

McDonald's may or may not have been involved. Considering I talked all night about how my last meal on death row is going to be a 10 piece nugget meal supersized with two double hamburgers, I'm willing to go out on a limb and confirm the I most likely visited the golden arches. The real closer was the Mickey D's salt packet I found in my pocket this morning, (McDonalds's salt is pretty much the most amazing thing on earth that isn't McDonald's sweet and sour sauce. I would honestly bathe in that junk.) This would have been my second visit in the past two days so had it not been for the 40 miles I put in this week I'd have been less than amused.

But regardless, when I woke up fully dressed and shoed from the night before on Sunday morning, with little recollection of how I got home, a pocket full of receipts that didn't make sense, and a run planned for noon I immediately figured I'd be entering an evil place populated by vomitism and pain. But none of that actually came to pass. The reason? While I can't confirm this through scientifical means, it turns out that running is one hell of a hangover remedy.

When it comes to the evil force known as the hangover my cure has always been Alka-Seltzer Morning Relief - which is quite possibly proof there is a god and he wants me to be happy, and Vitamin Water Revive, which I'm 72% sure was designed specifically for me. As the bottle says:

“if you woke up tired, you probably need more sleep. if you woke up drooling at your desk, you probably need a new job. if you woke up with a headache, on a ferris wheel at the Idahostate fair , wearing a toga, you probably need answers, not to mention this product. it’s got potassium and b vitamins to help you recover and feel refreshed – kinda like in those old irish spring commercials.”

That's pretty much exactly how I roll.

But instead of laying around in my own filth and self loathing I did 8 super fulfilling miles of running that turned out to be one of the best ideas ever.

You'd think that with a bloodstream filled with Jack on the rocks and red wine the last thing you'd want to do is bound around through the streets of NYC, but it turns out that the whole sweat it out thing isn't just a myth. I never actually reached the head pounding near death stage - skipping it entirely for super happiness and good times. Does this mean I'm going to run off all hangovers? Highly unlikely. But it is something to consider for the next time I get drink myself half retarded and totally don't want to move.

Pictures from the run...

and he

Midnight Madness

2008-03-11T01:57:00.000-04:00

Times Square is often referred as the “Cross Roads of the Universe” – or the ninth circle of hell depending on who you’re asking. The tourists certainly dig it considering they come from all corners of the globe speak in funny languages while standing in the middle of Seventh Ave. staring and pointing at things.

I hate these people. Most New Yorkers do, and that’s why anyone who’s lived in the NYC more than few months would rather do algebra or visit Nebraska then spend New York minute basking in TS’s garish neon glow. But true my contrarian nature, and at complete odds with everything runners hold dear, doing loops through Times Square is probably my favorite running route on the planet.

The lights, the crowds, the fact I spend most my run avoiding being clobbered by cabs - it doesn’t make sense with the 10 minute mile Park Loop set. Most runners enjoy the ability zone out on run and just coast through nice mindless jaunt – that’s not happening when you’re weaving through crowd of Europeans in skin-tight jeans taking pictures of the M&M store. You’re head is on swivel as you’re picking out the holes three moves in advance – cutting right past the giggly French chicks, just before you juke past stinky bum, so you can jolt into red crosswalk just between gypsy cab and Carolla with Pennsylvanian plates that’s paying more attention the giant Virgin Megastore sign then the fact he’s half second from getting new hood ornament. It’s like the running equivalent of Devin Hester taking back the opening kickoff of Super XLI.

So despite the fact I didn’t leave my office until 11:30 tonight, I strapped in and tore up and down Broadway tonight risking life and limb put in quick six. Is midnight tempo through the most congested area on the planet for everyone? Considering the only other person I saw running was most likely shoplifter I’m guessing probably not. But running isn’t about going slow, or fast, or long, or hard, it’s about what motivates you get out there. Different strokes for different folks playa.

Morning Runs Revisited

2008-03-08T02:16:00.000-05:00

A couple days ago I mentioned how much I hate morning runs, going as far as referring to them as "Christmas trousers". And I was serious - morning runs just ain't how this playa rolls. At 7AM I don't even want to be dreaming about running, (mostly because it take away moments that could be spent dreaming about frolicking through magical enchanted forest or playing Scrabble with Adriana Ambrosia - who on a side note I would absolutely smoke in a game of wordplay and wit). But being that I'm a diplomatic individual filled with integrity and open-mindedness I decided on Friday morning to let bygones be bygones and hit up a quick morning lower loop in the Park.

Now, I can admit when I'm wrong. It's happened before - maybe once. I don't really remember it, but I'm pretty sure it was March of '93 or around then. But I was totally wrong about morning running. It's not the hellish debacle I made it out to be. No, it's far far worse. Possibly the worst thing ever. I'd put it on the same level as taking a big swig of milk and halfway through the swallowing process realizing it expired eight days ago, or the movie Baby Geniuses. It was really that miserable an experience.

Will I do it again? Probably. Sometimes you have to squeeze a run in early so you can spend the rest of your day engaging in more important endeavors - like the mass consumption of adult style beverages, or Scrabble tournaments with Victoria Secrets models, (ball's in your court Adriana), but morning running just isn't and probably never will be my bag of Skittles.

Do I want to go running in the morning?

2008-03-04T23:06:00.000-05:00

I'll give you the easy answer - No. Zero percent of me wants to run in the AM. I'd rather punch an angry bear, or do math - anything really. Especially considering the weather for the morning looks cold and wet, which next to nuclear attack with chance of zombie attacks is the worst combination I can think of.

The fact is I hate morning running - which is very un-runner. Most runners love waking up at the butt-crack to amble through the Park with an ear to ear grin so they can rub it in to the rest of us who spend our mornings hitting the snooze button like it's dispensing happy tokens. It's not, in fact all my snooze button dispenses is a cold dose of inevitability coupled by the sad hard truth that I actually have to wake up and do...stuff. Like ew.

But that's not even what I hate about morning running. More than anything I hate that when I run in the morning the most productive thing I'll do for the entire day happens at 7:30AM. I have nothing for the rest of my day. Zero to look forward to. It's like opening the first gift on Christmas and it's a bike and you know that there's box after box of trousers and socks to tear through. After the bike where do you really go from there?

On that note maybe I don't run? Maybe I do? Maybe I hate the fact that 6 people are reading this? And I know who all of you are so stop looking at me swan.

My run from tonight.

New Year's Resolution: Run More Slowly

2008-03-04T10:18:00.000-05:00

More as in more frequently and slowly - you know, rather than going out and sprinting until I yack. Kinda F-ed that up last night.

But tonight at the RUN NYC training run (NIKETOWN @ 6:30) so I'm going to enjoy a nice leisurely 7 or so. You know, really pamper myself. I think I deserve it.

Dr. Strangerun: How I Learned to Stop Sprinting and Learned to Love the Nike+

2008-03-03T01:16:00.000-05:00

Hi. My name is Paul and I'm completely addicted to Nike+. I guess it's been going on for the better part of the last two years, and in that time I've been incapable of running without it. It's affected my shoe selection, my pace, my desire to run on days where my iPod is dead or I can't find my chip. Seriously, I can't squeeze out a mile without being "plugged in".

For instance - this Saturday I wasted 5 or 6 miles on a leisurely jog through the Park because I couldn't find my reciever anywhere. It's as if that run never happened. I put the miles in I swear. But I got back to Niketown and like that - POOF - they were gone. Lost to being unplugged.

I'm aware that this is in complete contradiction to what "real" runners will lead you to believe. "Running should be an opportunity to listen to your body," or "The chance to enjoy time within yourself," and other similar hippie mumbo-jumbo. But I buy into none of that. Running for me is an opportunity to go faster, longer, or harder than I did the day before. Like a masocist I enjoy beating myself.

And that's why I heart the Nike+ so much. I get to measure every run. Check my pace, see the distance, and then load it online so I can compare the progress. I don't have to guess that I'm going faster - or have to break out my slide-rule and Map My Run to do mathamatics, I get instant feedback. It could be proof that the running Gods love me and want me to be happy - or at least faster.

So I may not be a sole runner, and the traditionalists plodding along at the back of the pack may not like it, but I'm hooked.

And if anyone finds those 6 miles from Saturday tell them that I miss them and want them back.

Bridge Running

2008-02-28T14:14:00.000-05:00

Central Park is to New York runners what tie-dye is to hippies - comfortable, practical, occasionally smelly, but more or less the main go-to for our day to day fix. In fact, most NYC runners get out their door and B-line it to the Park like the rest of the City is hot lava and they're being chased by brain eating zombies. Obviously, it could have something to do with the fact I often dress as a brain eating zombie and chase down runners - but it actually might be slightly more. Runners run in the Park because other runners run in the Park - a logic (lower) loop so circular that it almost has to have some merit. But that's what happens in the hustle and bustle of the NYC. We've given up exploration for the quick fix.

But as a runner, and a individual in general, I'm all about paradigm breaking. Thinking outside the box, or lower loop, or Rez. As such, I really enjoy getting out to a Wednesday night Bridge Run when I can.

Bridge Runners is like RUN NYC's slightly crazy, non-conformist brother - grittier, edgier, more likely to spray-paint his name on something while getting chased by law enforcement. But there's an element to the program that's tangibly NYCentric, and it's that spirit that's really catchy.

So that's where I found myself on Wednesday night. Bundled up, hopping around, rocking my Wu-Tang playlist (because that's how I roll with the BRs playa), one of 14 heads breaking into the controlled choas that is a Bridge Run.

We're talking completely outside the controlled confines of Central Park and out in the streets. We're darting across traffic, jumping over stuff, taking it over the Manhattan, through the streets of Brooklyn, over potholes and construction, past Marlow and Sons, through Williamsburg, and back over the Willy-B. It was a good run, and if you don't get a huge smile when you look out see these guys then you're either reading this in braille, or you're a communist, and I'm pretty sure if you're a communist I'd rather you go read a manafesto of some sort than my blog. But more important than the socio-political views of my three readers, where else but Bridge Runners do you get a chance to bust 6 miles with a writer, and actor, a banker, and artist, a world class runner, and my punk ass, and then get free water and bananas?

Why I'm blogging part 1

2008-02-26T02:03:00.000-05:00

When people ask me when I started running I typically say that I ran in college - which I did, but that doesn't really answer the question. That's more of an answer to what made you hate running. Or what's the most pretentious thing you can say regarding your running accomplishments. But as far as answering when I started running it really has no bearing. The truth is I have no idea how to answer when I started running. It's like asking Michael Jackson when he turned weird. Was it when he purchased a llama or when he was talking to the mouse? Who knows? If you ask my mother, as soon as she's able to compose herself from the fetal ball of tears that the post traumatic stress of my childhood has caused the poor woman, she'd probably say that from the time I could walk I was tearing ass any time I was off the leash. And though the stress of chasing a four year-old around Disney probably took years off her life, she'll probably never be in as good of shape.

But in retrospect, everything in my life is and has always revolved around the fact that I can run. My notoriety in Elementary school was due to the fact I was the fastest kid in the school. That followed through to middle school where I set a school record for the mile. In high school I tried out for the baseball team, and wasn't cut largely because the coach was also the XC coach and needed my come XC season. I'd go on to a successful career and, I picked a college based on the XC program. I stopped running after my freshman year so I could enjoy college, but being on the track team was my sell in when I joined a fraternity. In a round-about way it was the insane and debauch stuff I did in the fraternity that lead me to the event production industry. And now I'm working for the biggest running brand in the biggest city in the world and I'm fully immersed in the NYC running community.

So at 28 years old I've come to the realization that there's no single force in my life that's been as consistently influential as running. The only thing close would be my staunch dedication to contrarianism, or the fact I worship the dark lord Satan - well not really - but maybe. Or not? It's neither here nor there really. But I recently started reading some of my runners blogs, and in an attempt to promote the amazing work they're doing, I'm going to throw my hat into the blogosphere. I figure that I owe it to the general populous to share my thoughts and seemingly witty observations with the universe at large. It's the least I can do. Except nothing, which would be slightly less.

Let the games begin...