Friday, June 1, 2012
Ithaca Festival Mile
Last night, Natalie and I went to our favorite large town/small city in the world to run the Ithaca Festival Mile. The event has been going on for about five years, and I think I've only missed one race ever. In years past, I've run somewhere between 4:22 and 4:26 usually, which has either won the event or put me in the mix. Last year, though, disaster struck, and I dropped a shame-ridden 4:41 to finish something like fifth, and a good 20 seconds behind the Cornell kids, one of whom ran 4:21 for the course record. I credit the Pittsburgh Marathon, which I had run two weeks before the mile, for the result.
This year, I was hoping for a time similar to--if not a bit faster than--Wilber-Duck's 4:26 from last week. I tried to do my homework on the competition end, too. Earlier in the day, I told Rojo, Cornell's distance coach, not to tell anyone about the race, so I would have a chance in hell of winning. To my dismay, I quickly found out that there was plenty of competition from a bunch of 23-year-olds in the area and a few kids still in college looking to break 4:20. Oy vay.
The men's and women's races went off at the same time. My race was pretty quick from the start, with a group of about six guys running together for the first quarter. That thinned out a bit as we moved onto the half, which felt like it was three-quarters, but wasn't. The organizers had marked the course with cones at every 400 meters, but for whatever reason, that second cone seemed so far away from the first. Not a good sign.
I was on a few guys' shoulders, sort of in a second-third position for most of the first half. By the time we approached the quarter, I was somehow in the lead. I hadn't felt the pace slacken that much, but I could see based on the shadows behind me that I had a few steps on second place at that point.
My lead was short-lived, however. With about 300 meters to go, Quinn Thomas, who graduated from Dartmouth the same year I graduated from Cornell and has very similar PR's to me, passed me and put a few strides between us. I hit that inevitable crossroads at that point, where I had to decide if I was going to pack it in for a comfortable second (second place gets a bag of Gimme Coffee beans; not bad!) or try to muster some sort of second effort, even if it meant driving home nauseous. You know what I'm talking about.
With 150 to go, I pulled even with Quinn, then, very slowly, went by. Like that second cone, the finish line seemed so far away, and I was about 50% sure that I would be re-passed before the line. With 20 meters to go, my legs started to wobble, which as many of you know is the most horrifying, terrible feeling in the world, taking step by step in a world of pain. The best way I can describe it is that it's like trying to sprint after taking over someone else's body and being underwater for four and a half minutes.
Thankfully, for the sake of blog glory, I did manage to win in the end. After I came to my senses, I could hear the announcer announcing the first female finisher, though I couldn't see who it was. Someone told me that I had run 4:19, which is the fastest I've run in a long time (four or five years?), also setting a new course record for Ithaca Festival Mile in the process. Natalie had won as well, with a time that was a full ten seconds faster than her Wilber-Duck race (5:29 down to 5:19). She is invariably awesome at these sorts of things.
I credit the deep competition with the faster time. There was no opportunity for a sluggish pace in the middle, as much as I do love me some sluggish pace now and then.
As Natalie and I picked up our first-place coffee mugs (the promise that there would be pottery for the winners somehow didn't sway Steve to join us for this one), I thought about how validating this race was. It's a small-time community race without prize money, but it's in Ithaca, and there's a parade after it for goodness sakes. On a personal level, I've run the event every year but one, and to register this level of improvement is really, really nice--regardless of what happens with the 5k.
The rest of the night involved watching the Section IV State Qualifier Meet at IHS, dinner at Viva Tac, dessert at Purity, and catching up with about fifteen people along the way. As for the sub-15, 5k? We're working on it.
This year, I was hoping for a time similar to--if not a bit faster than--Wilber-Duck's 4:26 from last week. I tried to do my homework on the competition end, too. Earlier in the day, I told Rojo, Cornell's distance coach, not to tell anyone about the race, so I would have a chance in hell of winning. To my dismay, I quickly found out that there was plenty of competition from a bunch of 23-year-olds in the area and a few kids still in college looking to break 4:20. Oy vay.
The men's and women's races went off at the same time. My race was pretty quick from the start, with a group of about six guys running together for the first quarter. That thinned out a bit as we moved onto the half, which felt like it was three-quarters, but wasn't. The organizers had marked the course with cones at every 400 meters, but for whatever reason, that second cone seemed so far away from the first. Not a good sign.
I was on a few guys' shoulders, sort of in a second-third position for most of the first half. By the time we approached the quarter, I was somehow in the lead. I hadn't felt the pace slacken that much, but I could see based on the shadows behind me that I had a few steps on second place at that point.
My lead was short-lived, however. With about 300 meters to go, Quinn Thomas, who graduated from Dartmouth the same year I graduated from Cornell and has very similar PR's to me, passed me and put a few strides between us. I hit that inevitable crossroads at that point, where I had to decide if I was going to pack it in for a comfortable second (second place gets a bag of Gimme Coffee beans; not bad!) or try to muster some sort of second effort, even if it meant driving home nauseous. You know what I'm talking about.
With 150 to go, I pulled even with Quinn, then, very slowly, went by. Like that second cone, the finish line seemed so far away, and I was about 50% sure that I would be re-passed before the line. With 20 meters to go, my legs started to wobble, which as many of you know is the most horrifying, terrible feeling in the world, taking step by step in a world of pain. The best way I can describe it is that it's like trying to sprint after taking over someone else's body and being underwater for four and a half minutes.
Thankfully, for the sake of blog glory, I did manage to win in the end. After I came to my senses, I could hear the announcer announcing the first female finisher, though I couldn't see who it was. Someone told me that I had run 4:19, which is the fastest I've run in a long time (four or five years?), also setting a new course record for Ithaca Festival Mile in the process. Natalie had won as well, with a time that was a full ten seconds faster than her Wilber-Duck race (5:29 down to 5:19). She is invariably awesome at these sorts of things.
I credit the deep competition with the faster time. There was no opportunity for a sluggish pace in the middle, as much as I do love me some sluggish pace now and then.
As Natalie and I picked up our first-place coffee mugs (the promise that there would be pottery for the winners somehow didn't sway Steve to join us for this one), I thought about how validating this race was. It's a small-time community race without prize money, but it's in Ithaca, and there's a parade after it for goodness sakes. On a personal level, I've run the event every year but one, and to register this level of improvement is really, really nice--regardless of what happens with the 5k.
The rest of the night involved watching the Section IV State Qualifier Meet at IHS, dinner at Viva Tac, dessert at Purity, and catching up with about fifteen people along the way. As for the sub-15, 5k? We're working on it.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Tuesday's Workout...
...will be up soon. I'm waiting for Carl's video intro before I post it.
CARL, GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER! SO MUCH IS AT STAKE!!!
Steve and I are doing hills tomorrow. We've made a few tweaks to our racing schedule, and now it looks like we'll be running USATF East Regionals instead of the NBB meet. A week after the East meet is the New England meet, so there are at least two solid shots left before Steve starts residency.
CARL, GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER! SO MUCH IS AT STAKE!!!
Steve and I are doing hills tomorrow. We've made a few tweaks to our racing schedule, and now it looks like we'll be running USATF East Regionals instead of the NBB meet. A week after the East meet is the New England meet, so there are at least two solid shots left before Steve starts residency.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Episode 46: Wilber-Duck Mile
Here's the official Sub-15 version of the Wilber-Duck mile from last Friday. We posted previously on the race here and here.
Today (Sunday), Steve graduated med school, earning his Ph.D. in the process. He'll be at Upstate next year for his residency in pediatrics, so there's at least a 2% chance that the blog will still be going next year at this time.
Also, Sam gave the Lilac 10k a whirl despite racing Friday, 90 degree temperatures, and the fact that the race was 10k. It predictably did not go that well (34-something), but it's OK because the STC won some cold cash and Sam got some much needed aerobic work in the process.
Today (Sunday), Steve graduated med school, earning his Ph.D. in the process. He'll be at Upstate next year for his residency in pediatrics, so there's at least a 2% chance that the blog will still be going next year at this time.
Also, Sam gave the Lilac 10k a whirl despite racing Friday, 90 degree temperatures, and the fact that the race was 10k. It predictably did not go that well (34-something), but it's OK because the STC won some cold cash and Sam got some much needed aerobic work in the process.
Cherishing the journey
Sam and I usually stick to a common theme with our blog posts: the quest for a sub-15:00 5k. But today, as I graduate from medical school, I'd like to take a moment to reflect on a different sort of quest: the quest for an MD/PhD.
Like the journey toward the sub-15:00 barrier, the journey through medical school has been filled with trials and tribulations. Luckily most of them have not been chronicled on video (thanks HIPAA).
Attaining an MD/PhD has been a quest of incremental gains. It has been a path traveled page-by-page through an endless volume of knowledge. Similarly, the path towards the elusive 15:00 barrier is traveled lap by lap through 400 meter repeats. Both goals require tremendous time and effort as collateral for dreams deferred. It would not be a stretch to say that training for one dream has prepared Sam and I for the other.
Today as I stood in the Crouse Hinds Theater preparing for commencement a classmate asked me whether I was more proud of my forthcoming MD, or PhD. It was a difficult question. Both degrees are a humbling mark of accomplishment and expertise, but ultimately what makes me proud about them is the enormous amount of sacrifice and hard work that they required. And because the path to attaining them has not been separate, but rather an intertwined saga of study-eat-sleep-repeat, I cannot choose which I am most proud of. Instead I will simply say that I value them both because I have cherished the journey.
Goals are a funny thing. They can often consume our time, energy, and attention. In return they reward us with a fleeting moment of satisfaction and accomplishment. But I believe we can reap just as much as we sow from life's great endeavors. The secret is to cherish the journey.
Like the journey toward the sub-15:00 barrier, the journey through medical school has been filled with trials and tribulations. Luckily most of them have not been chronicled on video (thanks HIPAA).
Attaining an MD/PhD has been a quest of incremental gains. It has been a path traveled page-by-page through an endless volume of knowledge. Similarly, the path towards the elusive 15:00 barrier is traveled lap by lap through 400 meter repeats. Both goals require tremendous time and effort as collateral for dreams deferred. It would not be a stretch to say that training for one dream has prepared Sam and I for the other.
Today as I stood in the Crouse Hinds Theater preparing for commencement a classmate asked me whether I was more proud of my forthcoming MD, or PhD. It was a difficult question. Both degrees are a humbling mark of accomplishment and expertise, but ultimately what makes me proud about them is the enormous amount of sacrifice and hard work that they required. And because the path to attaining them has not been separate, but rather an intertwined saga of study-eat-sleep-repeat, I cannot choose which I am most proud of. Instead I will simply say that I value them both because I have cherished the journey.
Goals are a funny thing. They can often consume our time, energy, and attention. In return they reward us with a fleeting moment of satisfaction and accomplishment. But I believe we can reap just as much as we sow from life's great endeavors. The secret is to cherish the journey.
My family, without whom no journey would be possible.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Can't Stop, Won't Stop
Tomorrow, the weekend racing continues with the Lilac 10k. There's going to be a four-team competition for prize money. Sam will be running for STC while Steve graduates from med school. Check out the preview here.
Also, there are a couple fun post-race interviews up from last night's Wilber-Duck Mile courtesy of the Oneida Dispatch. Here they are:
Also, there are a couple fun post-race interviews up from last night's Wilber-Duck Mile courtesy of the Oneida Dispatch. Here they are:
Friday, May 18, 2012
Wilber-Duck Mile
Sam and Steve took first and second in the 2012 Wilber-Duck Mile. They treated themselves to a fancy meal at a roadside diner afterwards. Blogwife Natalie won the women's race. Video to follow manana.
Above: Sam and Steve at about 200 to-go sporting the awesome-est jerseys you've ever seen. Cheeah! #Beastmode
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Rain, Pain, and Varmits
Hi, all. Before Steve gets the video up for the race--he ran fantastically by the way, setting a new PR of 15:02 in the process--I wanted to give you my perspective, since it was likely missed by our videographer, who also happens to be Steve's mom. (I was in the woods for a good part of the race, where there were thankfully no cameras.)
Without getting into the gritty details, I've been battling a GI bug since Thursday. I thought things were under control until about an hour before the race when my body said otherwise. The good news is that the legs and cardiovascular systems felt good for the part that I did run. That counts for something, right guys? Guys?
The gun went off around 10:30, with a steady drizzle coming down. Unlike Steve, who went to the front, I tried to reel in my pace off the bat, since going out in ~4:41 hadn't panned out for me at Bucknell. I was near the back for the first mile, splitting the first mile in 4:49 and feeling pretty good aside from the unsettled stomach.
Hopkins had been right in front of me for the first few laps, and I think I passed him just after the mile. (He would finish in around 15:40, a somewhat disappointing result for him.) I came through 3k in just under 9:10, meaning I had obviously slowed down for the better part of the second mile amidst my growing intestinal angst.
It was a culmination of discomfort and the realization that there was no way I was going to be able to come back with a negative split feeling way worse than I had when I started that made me drop out. Additionally, while I didn't think about it at the time, I do have races coming up on Friday (road mile) and Sunday (road 10k), so I figure now that there's not much sense in a wasted effort at this point. I believe I dropped out at 3600, running straight off the track into the woods where I was met with prompt relief.
After the race, I got my wet clothes together and headed back to my car as fast as I could. It was almost 11 at this point, and I had a long, drizzly drive in front of me.
Around 1, I stopped somewhere in the Poconos where a few hotels were visible from the highway. I grabbed some McDonald's (fries, salad, ice cream sundae with a packet of peanuts) and called a few places. While en route to the cheapest place I had called, I saw a motel on the side of the road that beat the place I was headed to by a good 20 bucks. I seriously don't know how this place makes money charging what it does. What was the motel like? Imagine one of those places in a television show where criminals hang out whilst smoking cigarettes, shooting up with dirty needles, and raping people.
The guy on the phone (no one was at the motel office, but there was a nice note on the door) told me to just "let myself into" one of the rooms. He recommended 111, as it was a non-smoking room. Room 111 had a window open, which I closed, and, thankfully, a functional door, which I locked. I showered, ate my Dirty Clown food, peeled off the cum-soaked bedspread, and went to sleep. And here's where the night gets interesting...
At 5 am, I woke up to the sound of scurrying. As much as I tried to convince myself that it was just the prostitute next door, it became evident as my somnolence cleared that the scurrying was coming from something more "animal-like."
I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and used its light to peer around the room. Nothing.
After about five minutes, I summoned up the courage to put my pants on and walked over to the bathroom, where the noise seemed to be coming from. Again nothing.
I peeked around the bathroom door that was blocking the closet. Is that my package of peanuts from the McDonald's sundae scattered across the ground? Yes. Is that a bunch of trash from the meal I had just eaten four hours ago strewn across the stained carpet? Yes, yes, yes. I wasn't hallucinating after all!
I never spied my night-time visitor, and truthfully, I didn't stick around much longer to ensure that I did. Instead, I got my shit together and got the hell out of there.
Upon leaving, I called the motel office again (once again, no one was physically there) and was told to "just leave two twenties in one of the drawers and leave the room unlocked." I told the guy that it was fine with me as long as he was sure the animal wouldn't steal his cash. I then filled him in on the night's events. To the guy's credit, he told me not to worry about paying. He also nicely asked me to consider his establishment the next time I was staying in the area.
A free hotel beats sub-15 any day, right guys? Right? RIGHT?... Guys?
Without getting into the gritty details, I've been battling a GI bug since Thursday. I thought things were under control until about an hour before the race when my body said otherwise. The good news is that the legs and cardiovascular systems felt good for the part that I did run. That counts for something, right guys? Guys?
The gun went off around 10:30, with a steady drizzle coming down. Unlike Steve, who went to the front, I tried to reel in my pace off the bat, since going out in ~4:41 hadn't panned out for me at Bucknell. I was near the back for the first mile, splitting the first mile in 4:49 and feeling pretty good aside from the unsettled stomach.
Hopkins had been right in front of me for the first few laps, and I think I passed him just after the mile. (He would finish in around 15:40, a somewhat disappointing result for him.) I came through 3k in just under 9:10, meaning I had obviously slowed down for the better part of the second mile amidst my growing intestinal angst.
It was a culmination of discomfort and the realization that there was no way I was going to be able to come back with a negative split feeling way worse than I had when I started that made me drop out. Additionally, while I didn't think about it at the time, I do have races coming up on Friday (road mile) and Sunday (road 10k), so I figure now that there's not much sense in a wasted effort at this point. I believe I dropped out at 3600, running straight off the track into the woods where I was met with prompt relief.
After the race, I got my wet clothes together and headed back to my car as fast as I could. It was almost 11 at this point, and I had a long, drizzly drive in front of me.
Around 1, I stopped somewhere in the Poconos where a few hotels were visible from the highway. I grabbed some McDonald's (fries, salad, ice cream sundae with a packet of peanuts) and called a few places. While en route to the cheapest place I had called, I saw a motel on the side of the road that beat the place I was headed to by a good 20 bucks. I seriously don't know how this place makes money charging what it does. What was the motel like? Imagine one of those places in a television show where criminals hang out whilst smoking cigarettes, shooting up with dirty needles, and raping people.
The guy on the phone (no one was at the motel office, but there was a nice note on the door) told me to just "let myself into" one of the rooms. He recommended 111, as it was a non-smoking room. Room 111 had a window open, which I closed, and, thankfully, a functional door, which I locked. I showered, ate my Dirty Clown food, peeled off the cum-soaked bedspread, and went to sleep. And here's where the night gets interesting...
At 5 am, I woke up to the sound of scurrying. As much as I tried to convince myself that it was just the prostitute next door, it became evident as my somnolence cleared that the scurrying was coming from something more "animal-like."
I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and used its light to peer around the room. Nothing.
After about five minutes, I summoned up the courage to put my pants on and walked over to the bathroom, where the noise seemed to be coming from. Again nothing.
I peeked around the bathroom door that was blocking the closet. Is that my package of peanuts from the McDonald's sundae scattered across the ground? Yes. Is that a bunch of trash from the meal I had just eaten four hours ago strewn across the stained carpet? Yes, yes, yes. I wasn't hallucinating after all!
I never spied my night-time visitor, and truthfully, I didn't stick around much longer to ensure that I did. Instead, I got my shit together and got the hell out of there.
Upon leaving, I called the motel office again (once again, no one was physically there) and was told to "just leave two twenties in one of the drawers and leave the room unlocked." I told the guy that it was fine with me as long as he was sure the animal wouldn't steal his cash. I then filled him in on the night's events. To the guy's credit, he told me not to worry about paying. He also nicely asked me to consider his establishment the next time I was staying in the area.
A free hotel beats sub-15 any day, right guys? Right? RIGHT?... Guys?
Monday, May 14, 2012
Swarthmore Last Chance Meet
Tonight, Steve and I take another crack at the 15-minute mark with a night 5,000 at Swarthmore. It's looking to be a great meet assuming the rain holds off. Right now, I'm seeded 36th with a seed time of 14:50, and Steve is sitting in the 40 spot with a seed time of 14:57. There are likely going to be a few more entries, as I know of at least one club who doesn't have their guys listed yet. That said, assuming only a few people don't show, we're likely to be in the second fastest heat together.
The good news: This should be a lot different race than Bucknell for me. There, I was out near the back of the pack and just tried to hang on. I'm hoping tonight I can position myself more toward the front and make it more about racing than fishing for a specific time. Of course, the first two miles still have to be pace-centered, but after that, I think competing helps to keep the head clear of negative thoughts (i.e. pain).
The bad news: The 5,000 is scheduled to go off at 10:20. This is really only bad news for our drive back to Syracuse and for any friends or family that are self-sacrificing enough to watch us run at 10:20 PM on a Monday. Overall, I'll be super happy as long as the rain holds off for the race itself.
The other news: There is also supposedly a really hot 1500 slated for this meet, so even if you don't give a shit about us placing somewhere in the mid-30's in the last event of the night, try to get down there. Also, Sam Luff and Sean Hopkins are set to run the 5,000 with us. (I use the term "with us" loosely for Sam, but Hopkins will very likely be in Steve and my heat.) Huzzah!
The good news: This should be a lot different race than Bucknell for me. There, I was out near the back of the pack and just tried to hang on. I'm hoping tonight I can position myself more toward the front and make it more about racing than fishing for a specific time. Of course, the first two miles still have to be pace-centered, but after that, I think competing helps to keep the head clear of negative thoughts (i.e. pain).
The bad news: The 5,000 is scheduled to go off at 10:20. This is really only bad news for our drive back to Syracuse and for any friends or family that are self-sacrificing enough to watch us run at 10:20 PM on a Monday. Overall, I'll be super happy as long as the rain holds off for the race itself.
The other news: There is also supposedly a really hot 1500 slated for this meet, so even if you don't give a shit about us placing somewhere in the mid-30's in the last event of the night, try to get down there. Also, Sam Luff and Sean Hopkins are set to run the 5,000 with us. (I use the term "with us" loosely for Sam, but Hopkins will very likely be in Steve and my heat.) Huzzah!
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