Two Hours of Terror, Followed by a 10K -- Nautica NYC Triathlon Race Report

First of all, let me start by thanking all of the amazing people who donated to the Aubrey Fund on behalf of my first triathlon effort.  I could not be more thankful, and believe me when I say that I could not have done it without you.  Literally.

That being said, onwards. 

I have to tell you, I'm actually afraid to write this.  The whole triathlon experience has freaked me out in a way that I have never been freaked out before, and not in a good way.  Unlike the marathon, I am having trouble looking at pictures, watching video, or even thinking about it.  In fact, my stomach is as clenched up writing this as it was in the days following the event.

This is going to have to be a multi-parter, because I sense the long-ness of the post.

Coming into the event, I was more nervous than I was for any of my marathons, although I would venture to say that I was about as prepared as I could have been.  What was freaking me out in the days leading up to the tri was not my prep, but the weather.  All forecasts predicted rain and thunderstorms.  Great.  While I have plenty of experience running in the rain, I've never biked in a heavy rain, nor swam in it.   So I was sweating it big time.

For once in their lives, the weather people had it right -- thunderstorms all Saturday night, and a steady rain at 3:30 am, when I set out to catch the shuttle bus to the start line. Talked to a couple of people from the CNN team who were also doing their first tri on the way over.

Arrive at transition, where my bike was, a little after 4:00.  I was in the yellow, or first transition area.  That's for pros and the first wave of amateurs.  I guess the idea is get the slowpokes going first, so that the faster folks later catch up to them, and we all finish more or less together. Otherwise, they'll be waiting for me forever.  I've never set out a transition area.  Find my bike, where I left it the night before.  Lucky for me, the person next to me did not show, and I'm on the end,  so I have about a foot more room.  I split it with the gal next to me.  Since it's still raining, I don't want to lay everything out.  I had packed everything into a "bike" bag and a "run" bag.  I just left everything in the bags, put my helmet on top, covered it with a plastic bag, and headed out to the start, taking breakfast with me.

It's a one-mile walk to the start. I walked with a 70-year-old gentleman (our ages are written on our legs)  who had done all the NYC tri's since they started, and about 50-something marathons all over the country.  Damn.  He was talking about how this was his last one. 

Arrived at the start line, and saw one of my Fred's Teammates, Dr. Mark.  He's been my running buddy for a number of events, as we ran at the same pace for a while.  He's one of the top thorascic and lung cancer doctors in the US.  He runs with Fred's Team, and his donation $ goes back to his department to fund research studies.  Amazing.  It's his first tri, too.  His daughter and son-in-law are there with him.  We sit together and attempt to put our wetsuits on.

Still raining, and I'm still freaking, and then they announce that there's been an accident on the Henry Hudson (the bike route) and the race will be delayed until the roadway is clear. Great.  Delay my pain.  Fortunately, the rain lets up somewhat, and by the time the accident is cleared and they call us into the corralls, it's let up to a light drizzle.

Mark and I part company, and as I move to my corrall, I see Teammates Abby and Matt.  Matt actually works for Fred's Team, but he'll be running NYC.  Abby and I joined the Team together, and ran at the same pace for the first couple of years, so we became good buddies.  Abby actually did the Tri her third year with the Team, and hurt her hip shortly thereafter, knocking her out of the marathon, which she hasn't done since.  Amazing person that she is, she still comes to all the practices and races, volunteering as bag watcher and cheerleader.  She's an excellent swimmer, and was giving me tips beforehand.  I was glad to see her, as she kept me reasonably calm and together up until, 45 minutes late, the race actually began.

THE SWIM:
I have been told by everyone who has done this swim that the swim is the easiest portion of the race.  You are with the current.  The current is strong.  A bag of chips can make it point to point in 20 minutes.

Well, let me tell you, the Hudson River, right after a series of thunderstorms, is not the easiest portion of the race.  And I am no bag of chips.

Unlike years past, they changed the swim start so instead of 100 people jumping in at once, it's 20 people every 30 seconds.  It spreads out the field a little and makes the whole swim safer.  But what it means is, you get on the dock, sit down (no diving) and whoosh, you're off, with no time to adjust.  Maybe that's good.  Maybe not.  All I know is, I jumped in, came up, got smacked with a faceful of water, and instantly realized that I was not doing the crawl.

The water was rough.  People I spoke to who had done the race in past years said that on a scale of 1 to 10, the water was a 7.  Usually, it's a 1.  Why do I get the 7 year?

If you did not already hear this, two people died during the swim this year -- a 60-year-old  man and a 40-year-old woman.  There have been studies done that show that 90 percent of deaths during triathlons happen during the swim.  There are many theories and factual reasons for this that I won't get into right now, but let me say right now that it is not the fault of the race organizers.  As horrifying as the swim was for me personally, the race organizers made the course as safe as it could possibly be.  There were kayaks every couple of hundred of feet along both sides of the swim, plus fire boats, medical boats, other boats -- there was help that could get to you in less than two minutes, and I watched them do just that in a couple of instances.  So when you hear about a tragedy during an event, don't be so quick to blame the event.

Anyways, rough, rough water.  Yes, we were with the current, but the waves were coming at us, so it was making me very seasick, and made moving forward exhausting --  two-steps-forward-one-step-back.  After a couple of aborted attempts to try the crawl, I switched to sidestroke, but again, fighting the waves grew exhausting. 

Here's the thing -- as terrified as I was, I never thought I was in danger of drowning.  I don't know what the terror was.  But I was clearly terrified, and had to roll over on my back a number of times and just float for a minute or two to rest and get my heart rate down.  I thought a lot about Liam, and this amazing picture of him in a wetsuit.  Liam loved the water.  I prayed to Liam to help me through. 

I was soon getting passed by wave after wave of swimmers, and I tried not to care, but it was starting to upset me.  At one point, a woman from my wave who was similarly struggling looked over at me and said, "You're doing fine."   Thank God for her, because I thought I'd be out there by myself forever.  Someone in my boat, so to speak.  I thanked her. I did find it weird how easy it was for people to speak with each other in the water, as there was a lot of  "Sorry," "Coming through," and "Fuck, that's my goggles."

Just when I thought I couldn't swim another stroke, I finally made it to the dock.  A volunteer grabbed my hand and pulled me up the ramp.  I was wearing my VFF Flows, and my feet felt like lead.  They instantly propel you towards land -- no waiting around.  You walk off the dock and to your right is a series of showers to go through to wash some of the Hudson muck off you. 

Through the showers, and now it's a half mile to the transition area (which is why I wore the Flows.)  I tried running, but I was exhausted.  Some of the Fred's Team cheering section was right there, and I think I gave them a little wave, but that's all I had energy for.  So I walked/jogged down the path to get to the bike.

One of the few advantages of being in the yellow transition is that there are benches along the path to the transition area, and it's much easier to sit on a bench, remove your wetsuit, and take it with you than it is to try to sit in the mudfield that is now the yellow transition and do it in eight inches of space.  So I did that, and that break helped me rest up a little.

Got into my bike gear, lubed up, and headed out of transition. I was glad I kept my stuff in bags.  Everything was still dry.  Some of the people were there talking about how hard the swim was, which made me feel a little better about it.

Out of the gate and past the yellow "mount" line, I mounted my bike and headed out. 

The top of the bike leg is the hardest, because it involves a sharp left turn in which you head up a two-part hill to 79th Street.  I had practiced this.  At all the briefings, you are told over and over again to leave your bike in an easy gear because of this hill.   I was prepared for this hill.  Alas, not so the woman next to me, who turned and instantly wiped out.  Fortunately, I was able to avoid her, but as I'm halfway up the second hill, the idiot in front of me stops and gets off her bike.  Now I'm stuck.  I have to stop and unclip, and three people around me do, too.  Now I have no momentum and can't get up the rest of the hill.  The volunteer is screaming, "Walk it!  Walk it!"  but I can't unclip my right foot.  So I half pedal, half push myself up the rest of the hill, hop onto the seat, and head, literally, for the hills.

More anon.

Today I Am A Triathlete

...but am still very dazed by the whole experience.  Suffice it to say that I am alive, despite swallowing half the Hudson --we'll see what results from that, as I have already developed a cough -- and nearly wiping out on the bike during the downpours.  I am emotionally shaken, and not sure why. As my friend Kim said, it was not only my first triathlon, it was my first major event since Liam's passing, and it carried a lot of weight. That must be why, because I started crying when I wrote that sentence.  I started bawling as soon as I crossed the finish line, and have been weepy all day.  I know that after some real sleep, I will feel proud about what I have done, but right now, I'm just overwhelmed and oddly disappointed.  I haven't felt this disoriented since my first marathon

Will give many more details in a few days, when I mentally recover.

Seven Days and Counting...

I have really been pushing hard these past couple of weeks, which is my poor excuse for not blogging about my training.

My schedule for the past couple of weeks has been slight variations on this:
Monday -- bike or swim
Tuesday -- run
Wednesday -- swim or bike
Thursday -- run
Friday -- off
Saturday -- long run
Sunday -- long bike + swim

And best of all, I have REACHED MY FUNDRAISING GOAL FOR THE TRIATHLON, with a grand total of
$5023

Of course, I am still looking for donations for the marathon, so if you want to help me honor the memory of Prince Liam the Brave by making a donation to the Aubrey Fund for Pediatric Cancer Research, just click here!

Swimwise, things are going really well.  Everyone who's done the event tells me not to worry, it's the easiest swim ever.  That's good to hear, but one person's easy is another person's flaily-drowny.  However, last week in the pool, I came to a realization, and maybe this will be helpful to any of you that are swimmers.  I was doing a drill where I had one of those kidney floaties between my legs, so I was only using my arms to propel myself across the pool, and I was cranking out the laps like nobody's beeswax.  No breathing problems, no exhaustion, nothing. 

So I lose the floatie and start a regular crawl stroke.  Sure enough, two laps, and my breathing is messed up and I'm exhausted.

Lightbulb -- must be something I'm doing with my legs!  And that something was kicking like a crazy person, as fast and hard as I could.  Instead of propelling me forward, it was only exhausting me. 

I don't know much about swimming, but I feel that I do most of the work with my arms, with the legs providing just a small amount of propulsion.  I'm not saying that that's how it's supposed to be -- I honestly don't know -- but that's how I feel I swim.  So why am I knocking myself silly trying to get my legs to work harder, when they're not my main source of propulsion?

So instead of kicking hard, I relaxed my legs and kicked gently, and what do you know, I did ten laps easy.

Good thing I figured this out now!  Can you imagine what my swim would be like had I got it earlier?  Oh, well.  The swim will be fine.

Bike will be okay.  I am mainly worried about things like the hairpin turns at the turnarounds, and literally just getting onto the West Side Highway (up a steep hill almost immediately after getting on the bike.)  Two of my Teammates told me the hardest part of the bike course is avoiding bottles and crap that fall off people's bikes.  So I feel that with my training in Central Park, navigating around annoying tourists, I should be okay there, too.

And the run is, well, the run.  It's only a 10K, but it should be interesting after the bike ride, and, of course, it's uphill for the first two miles. 

Two Saturdays ago was the first NYRR Long Training Run.  The LTR is an untimed run, with pace groups heading out for distances of 6-20 miles (a loop of 6, two loops of 5, and a loop of 4.)  Do as many or as few loops as your training requires.  It's a great way to pace yourself and see where you're at.  

It was also the last day of a heatwave that sent temps soaring into the triple digits through most of the week.  The night before, it only dipped down to 85.  Despite NYRR's taking extra precautions -- extra water stations, adding Gatorade to the stations, slowing the pace groups, adding three misting stations and having cold sponges on the transverse -- Coach Ann and Jeff instructed the Team to do six miles instead of our scheduled 14, and go home.  Better to scrap one long run then to knock yourself out to the point where your training for the rest of the week is affected.

Teammate Jonathan and I went out with a 9:30 group.  He's a faster runner but is coming back from injury, and I'm, well, not a faster runner.  The 9:30 group should have been running at a 10-minute pace.  I'm not really a chatty runner, and neither is he, but we would thumbs-up each other every once in a while, and it was nice to have that companionship.  Another good thing that they did for this run was to have the pace group leaders walk the water stations, which they sometimes don't do on these runs, and that means I lose the pace group. 

My only quibble with the run was that all the extra water stations were on the east side of the Park.  It seemed like there was one water station on the west side, and then one every 45 feet on the east side.  Yes, I exaggerate, but the group did wonder where these mythical extra water stations were as we trundled down the west side.

Jonathan broke away on mile 4 and finished ahead of me.  He told me afterwards that the pace group was actually going at a 9:20 pace, and he was feeling good, so if he was only doing 6, he was going to do it as his pace.   So I'm happy, because I felt pretty comfortable with that pace.  I don't think I could have sustained it for 14 miles, but it was fine for 6.  And I feel that I could have done maybe another 5 in that heat, but I was starting to cramp up, and it has taken me a long time to learn to listen to what the coaches tell me.

We also had our first speed and hill workouts over the past two weeks (I have to do the step workouts on my own, alas.) Our first speed workout at Riverbank was one mile warm-up, 5 x two laps hard, one lap easy, then 3 laps cooldown.  This was during the heatwave, so it was really exhausting.  I had to hit the snackbar for some salt so I could keep going, because all the Gatorade in the world wasn't helping.   I really tried not to slack on the hard ones, so my easy laps involved some walking.  That's okay.  If you don't push, you don't improve the way you want.  I thought of sweet Liam every time I started to flag, and I swear to God, every time I thought of him, a breeze would come up and cool me off. 

And lookit what we did -- the next day, Riverbank's sewage plant cought fire, sending millions of gallons of sewage into the Hudson a/k/a my swim course next Sunday.  All because of the heat we generated on the track!

Same thing holds for the Cat Hill workout.  We did a warm-up of the lower loop, then 2 sets of four hill repeats -- easy effort, easy, medium, hard.  Break between set 1 and 2. 

It's so tempting to hold back on the medium and the hard of the first set, because you're thinking you have another set of four to go.  It's almost frightening to commit to doing what the coaches ask, because you wonder -- do you have it in you?  And if you don't, what does that say about you?  Ultimately, what you have to do is push until you can't push it anymore, whether you have completed the task or not.  If you bonk, you bonk, but at least you do it in training, not on the day.  The year I had a 30-minute improvement in my marathon was the year I did everything the coaches told me.  And I would not be honoring Liam properly by slacking.  Set 1, I felt I pushed the last repeat to maybe 90 percent.  Sort of disappointed in myself.  Set 2, I felt myself falling back in the last repeat, regrouped, and pushed to 100 percent up the second part of the hill all the way to the end, running full out the last 100 feet or so.  Had to walk most of the way back down the hill, and could barely complete the cooldown.

This past Saturday was the infamous Great Hill run -- 10 loops of the wretched thing, for 15 miles.  The first time we did this workout, we did it as a Tuesday night workout.  Jeff didn't take the length of the transverse into account, and by the time we finished, it was pitch black outside.  Sounds stupid, but I've been in love with this workout ever since.  Last time I did this workout two years ago, I could not do the full ten, and I was crushed.  So I was both anticipating it and dreading it.

Jeff and David told me to take it easy and cut it short, because apparently I get to have a little bit of a taper this week for the marathon!  Hooray!  Who doesn't love a taper?   So instead of ten loops, I did eight -- and I definitely could have done the full ten, and done them strong.  So now I'm back to loving this workout again.

Today was a nice 12-miler on the bike -- and completed in under 50 minutes -- followed by a really positive swim session.

Holy crap, I think I'm ready to do this triathlon!!

What's the Difference Between Eating 63 Hot Dogs and Running a Marathon?

Not much.  Baffling as to why one would want to do either, but running a marathon is only slightly less disgusting.

Good Lord, girl, where have you been?
Training, training, training!
Didn't I tell you, there's a triathlon and a marathon to get ready for!!

I'm sure I've said this before, but blogging is sometimes like going to the dentist -- you know you have to do it, but you put it off and put it off, and then there's jsut too much work to do when you finally go.

I'm sure I've also said this, but I will try to post shorter, more frequent posts.  But not this one.  This one may turn out to be super-long.

First and foremost, the most important reason we're all here -- I would like to announce that as of today, I have raised approximately
$8,500
of my
$10,000
goal for both the marathon and the triathlon.

Due to unpopular demand -- folks not wanting me to put their names out on the interwebs -- I am suspending the listing of the Fred's Team Honor Roll, although believe me, I've got it here with me.

Please help me honor the memory and fight of Prince Liam the Brave by helping to ensure that no child ever again has to suffer from neuroblastoma and other deadly childhood cancers. It couldn't be easier -- all you have to do is click here to go to my triathlon page, or  here to go to my marathon page.  The money that you donate goes to the Aubrey Fund for Pediatric Cancer Research. 

And let me tell you, I am earning every penny of your donations this year.

Before I get into the nitty-gritty of each discipline, since I don't have the Buckeye Outdoors link on my site anymore -- and I think I should get it back, because the Training Peaks software that Fred's Team now uses, though a good program, does not have the linking capability to the blog that I was hoping for -- a brief overview of the schedule: 
Monday -- swim
Tuesday -- run
Wednesday -- bike
Thursday -- run
Friday -- off
Saturday -- long run + swim
Sunday -- long bike

Can you believe I used to be a pack-a-day smoker?

First off, I am swimming.  And by swimming, I mean not drowning for half an hour at a time.  Which admittedly is hard to do in a pool that's only 17 yards long and 4 feet deep (NYSC pool in the Crowne Plaza, or whatever hotel that is).  I have been working hard with the drills and the endurance, but until yesterday, I wasn't able to go more than 4 laps at a time without feeling like my heart was going to burst.  It doesn't matter how long or how fast you can run, swimming uses a set of muscles -- and apparently a set of lungs -- that you don't normally use anywhere else.  I have discovered that as long as I sidestroke, I can go for at least half an hour, which is what I was expecting the swim portion to be for me.  So I had planned to do that.

However, I have been told by many people who've done this particular tri that the water in the Hudson River is at least 2 knots, and you are swimming with the current.  If you put your arms in front of you, you will go point to point in 28 minutes.  Additionally, I took my first open-water swim class, and after learning which is the correct way to put one's wetsuit on -- zipper in the back, and yes, I AM the only person in the world not to know that! -- and realizing just how bouyant and fast you become while wearing one, I think I might have to do more crawling and less sidestroke.  That, plus the instructor kept saying to beware of the frog-kickers, and that would be me.  I am feeling better about that, and also yesterday in the pool, I managed to do multiple sets of six consecutive laps, which I've never been able to do before.    Okay, so it's only 100 yards at a time, and I'm going to need to do 15 times that to get through the swim portion, but I'm just looking to get through the swim portion.

Some other things I learned during the open-water swim class -- the wetsuit does not keep you dry.  Water definitely gets in there, especially since I have a sleeveless one that I think is maybe a half-size too big for me.  On the other hand, water also gets out, if you know what I mean, and I think you do.  Also, the ocean is very, very salty.  I drank enough of it not to need extra sodium -- including electrolytes for my run -- for the next three days following.  Something tells me the Hudson is not going to be nearly so "tasty."

Biking, one would think, would be much easier to take.  Alas, not so.  After spending nearly $900 on my bike, a Cannondale Synapse Women's Alloy 7 Sora, and learning to understand all those gears and how they shift, I discovered the one place Cannondale really skimps, and that's the seat.  I was under the impression that, seeing as this is a woman's bike, that they would provide a woman-specific seat.  Apparently they do, but it must be for a woman with no genitalia.  I was wearing bike shorts on my rides -- which for the uninitiated is a pair of shorts with basically a Depends sewn in the crotch -- and was still getting such pains in the female parts that after my first 18-miler, I bled for two days (TMI, part of the process).  

So back to Toga for a better bike seat, and an introduction to Chamois Cream, which is a cooling cream for one's, um, chamois.  Apply directly to affected areas -- apparently things feel better if you wear the shorts without underwear. And amazingly, they do!  Although why there is menthol in the cream, I don't know.  Some parts of the body don't need to be mentholated. 

I've been having palpitations about what to wear under the wetsuit for the bike and run legs.  I was super-worried about tri shorts, given that I can barely stand riding in the bike shorts, and tri shorts have only a little bit of padding in the crotch, because you're also supposed to do the run in them.  My friend and Teammate Abby suggested I do what she did, which was wear running shorts, and pull the bike shorts over the top for the bike leg.  That was the plan.

Then yesterday, I discovered that I indeed had a pair of tri shorts that I unwittingly bought in last year's Jackrabbit post-Thanksgiving sales frenzy (where I also picked up the wetsuit for under $100, btw).  So yesterday's experiment -- 18+ miles in tri shorts, no undies, to simulate the bike leg.  And believe it or not, I did 23 miles in those shorts and it didn't feel too terrible!  Of course, when I got off the bike my back seized up and my left arm had gone numb, but I can't attribute that to the shorts.   So it looks like we might have a winner!

The other thing I have taken the plunge with is to buy and use clip bike shoes. They have a clip on the ball of the shoe that clip into the bike pedals.  The idea is that you are helping to move the bike both by pulling up and pushing down on the pedals, which makes you go faster, and also helps with the hills.  I was initially scared to use them, as I had visions of not being able to take my foot off the pedals and falling over.  Turns out, it is extremely easy to unclip one's foot from the pedal -- as long as one remembers that one's foot is clipped onto the pedal.  My first foray out with the shoes was a jaunt up to the GW Bridge and back, a nice, long and fairly flat ride up the West Side of Manhattan.  The only problem is there is one section where you have to leave the path along the river and head into the city streets for two blocks.  There is a stop sign where you cross from the street back onto the bike path.  I got to the stop sign, stopped, and tried to pick my foot off the pedal.  Why can't I lift -- wait a minute -- and then plop, over I went.  Scraped knee and banged wrist -- that freaked me out, because as a stenographer, I can't afford to mess up my hands -- but otherwise, I'm no longer scared of falling over on the bike.  And now I remember that my feet are clipped to the pedals.  Duh.

Here's an observation I have as a runner-who-bikes:  as a runner, you have to be aware of your surroundings, but as long as you're not running a race, it's okay to sort of  "check out" every once in a while, you know, let your mind wander.  You cannot do that on a bike.  You have to be 100 percent aware 100 percent of the time, and it's so scary sometimes to be in Central Park and have to ride amongst the hundreds of bike-renting tourists and others who do not ascribe to that edict.   Here in NYC, there's a huge business -- legit and otherwise -- in renting bicycles to folks to cruise Central Park and also Riverside Park.  Why is it that people who clearly do not ride bicycles in whatever city or country they live in decide that a great way to see Central Park is to do so on a barely-working rental bike?  They ride in packs of 10 abreast, oftentimes the wrong way (you are only supposed to go counter-clockwise on a bike in Central Park, just as with cars), usually without helmets, and doing things that people who would have enough common sense to fill a thimble wouldn't do, like stop at the bottom of the Great Hill when other cyclists are barrelling down that hill at 30+ miles per hour -- or even better, make a sharp turn across the roadway in that exact same spot.  Or just stop randomly in the middle of the road.  And my favorite of all -- TEXTING while on a bicycle.  Apparently this woman must be a doctor informing her colleagues of an important medical decision that must be made immediately and could not possibly wait long enough for her to even pull off to the side of the road.  Or maybe she's just an idiot.  Either one.

The lower loop of the Park, below 72nd Street, is where the biggest number of tourist clogs and difficulties lie.  As I was setting off on loop #4 of the Park yesterday -- and I was originally planning to do 3 full loops and then one or two lower loops -- I was riding around packs of tourists and others.  I have found that "Coming through, coming through" as I ride works, because "on your right" and "on your left" doesn't work when the people don't speak English.  At least the sound of my voice alerts them that I am passing by.  So I'm trying to pass one woman who keeps drifting to the right as I am passing her there, and I'm saying "Coming through, coming through," and she's not paying attention and about to crash into me, so I go "Coming through, COMING THROUGH!!!" which wakes her up.  She stops drifting and says to me, "Shut up."  !!  So as I pass her, I yell, "Watch where you're going and I'll shut up!"  My righteous fervor led me to do a five-mile loop, since I was not about to ride on the lower loop any more than I had to, now that I had a mortal enemy.  So thanks, biking idiot, for giving me my longest and fastest ride to date.

Running -- ah, running.  Well, at least I sort of know how to do this.  I'm a little concerned about the run portion of the tri, even if it's only a 10K, because it's mostly uphill, and goes the hard (clockwise) way around the Park.  I know I'll make it.  The question is merely, in what shape will that be?  Upright, I hope.

My new not-so-secret weapon on the run are salt packets.  Just little salt packets from the deli.  I sweat like a moose when I run, regardless of the weather, so it's important that I maintain my electrolytes.  Before every run I drink water with a Nuun electrolyte tablet  dissolved in it -- love them! --- and for a long, hot run, I'll also take an S-Cap, which is another form of electrolytes.  But along with gels and Gatorade, I'll also chew on a salt packet -- just like a stick of gum -- once or twice during the course of a run.  As icky as it sounds, it works for me.  For 10K or less, if I feel I need it, I'll have some salt about halfway through.  For 10K or more, I use about the same formula as gels -- every 45 minutes to an hour -- unless I'm using gels that have extra sodium.  Then I'll just take the gel, and hold the salt unless I feel I really need it. 

And yes, I am still running in Vibrams, even though my many attempts to get Vibrams to sponsor even a fraction of my events were for naught.  For naught, I say!  I still love those damn shoes, and will wear them for the run portion of the tri and also the marathon, but you know, not even a "thanks but no thanks" from them.  Does that cheese you off, too?  Write them, at sponsorme@vibramusa.com and let them know.  Which is another reason why I switched to bike shoes -- and why I'm eying those Saucony Kinvaras...

In addition to the tri training, the Team began marathon training a few weeks ago.  Our long runs are up to 11 miles.  It's been over a year since I've gone over 8 miles, and it's both joyful and painful to get back up to the double digits.  I had to take an ice bath after our first nine-miler.  How far we have fallen!  We start our Tuesday-Thursday sessions soon, but work will prevent me from doing most of the Thursday dates because of work.  If there's one thing I hate to do without the Team, it's the Thursday workout, because those are stair workouts and they can be brutal.  I don't think I will slack -- Liam doesn't deserve a slacker-- but without the Team there, I am afraid of not working as hard or as long as I should be.  But we will make do.

Okay, nearly long enough.  One small observation  before we go -- I did my volunteer race during a rainstorm.  When you do that, NYRR gives you one of those orange and white rain ponchos that you see the folks at the water stations wear during the marathon.  While initially excited about receiving the coat, I was soon disillusioned. A decently constructed raincoat wouldn't have stood a chance in this rain, and this one didn't keep me even remotely dry, but it didn't even keep me warm, which is an unusual thing for a coat constructed of non-breathable plastic.  And here's why -- it's glued together with what must be Elmer's School Glue, because by the time I got home, the hood had ripped off and the sleeves had mostly disconnected from the body.  So not such a great giveaway after all, but I still have it, for some unknown reason.

Okay!  Done for now.  Donate, donate, donate!! And off for a run!

My E-Mail to Family, Friends -- and You

I have much to say, and much will have to wait until the next post.
I would have posted this yesterday, but I was too focused on sending out the following email to everyone I know, a few people I don't really know, and many of whom have forgotten me.

And now I'm sending it to you.

On January 24, 2011, Liam Witt, Prince Liam the Brave, my inspiration for running four marathons with Fred's Team, an organization that raises money for pediatric cancer research and treatment at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, passed away from neuroblastoma at the age of 6.

May 13, 2011, would have been Liam’s 7th birthday.


On August 7, 2011, I will honor Prince Liam's memory by participating in my first triathlon.

And on November 6, 2011, I will run my fifth NYC Marathon, all in honor of my sweet inspiration.

Please help me honor the legacy of this amazing little boy by donating to the Aubrey Fund for Pediatric Cancer Research on my behalf. You will be funding desperately-needed pediatric research and treatment at MSKCC.
Please click on the link below to take you to my Fred’s Team triathlon page.
http://mskcc.convio.net/site/TR/FredsTeamEvents/Freds_Team?px=1011530&pg=personal&fr_id=1470


Any amount you can give brings us all one step closer to a cure.
My eternal thanks and gratitude.

Love,

Marci Glotzer

PS: If you wish to donate by check, please make it payable to “Fred’s Team” and send it to me at 152 W. 58th Street, Apt. 2D, New York, New York, 10019-2111. I will add my race info and send it on to MSKCC.

Run for the Parks Four-Miler, Why Bikes Don't "Fit," and The Perils of Early Hydration

Hello, devoted readers!  Good to be back!  I've been working hard, but not blogging much (as you can tell). I will try to be better.

Triathlon training is going well.  It's still a little early to push, but I'm trying not to slack.  Liam deserves no less than my best.  And you all agree, as so far, thanks to you, I have raised
$2275
for the Aubrey Fund for Pediatric Cancer Research at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center on behalf of Prince Liam the Brave.  If you, dear reader, want to support my first triathlon effort, honor the amazing Prince Liam, who fought so hard against neuroblastoma, and help cure pediatric cancer -- three things for the price of one!! -- simply click here to make a donation.  Any amount you can give is a step closer to a cure.

Thanks to Fred's Team, I have a new training program keeper thingie, called "Training Peaks." It tells you what to do every day as a beginner to prepare for your first triathlon. Some of it is a little basic, even for me, so as per usual, I've been ignoring it. If I figure out how to get it on the blog feed, I will replace good old Buckeye Outdoors. I've been trying to swim twice a week, run twice a week, and bike ... well, I'm waiting for the bike. I ordered it from Toga Bikes two weeks ago. It should be here any day now. I hate biking indoors more than I hate running on a treadmill, and I loathe running on a treadmill. 

I'm excited to get the bike, because I had so much trouble riding the old one (much as I loved it,) as it did not fit properly.  I bought that bike off Craigslist, a beautiful orange Cannondale.  Please understand that the bike I had before the Cannondale was purple, had a banana seat and purple streamers on the handlebars, and her name was Jennifer. What I knew about "fit" was -- could I get on it and reach the pedals?  Fit!  No, apparently, there is a lot more to it, like how well you reach the handlebars, where your knee falls in relation to the pedals, how wide you have to grip, etc.  I wish I had known this before.  I rode it for the better part of a year, and it was always uncomfortable.  I felt too high off the ground, and my back would be aching after two miles.  I finally asked some of my triathlete friends who said that just wasn't right.  Anyways, the good folks at Toga explained to me when I brought the Cannondale in that there would be no way to make it fit me properly, that fixing one thing would create problems with another.  So they sold the old bike, and ordered me a hot new Cannondale Synapse Women's Alloy 7 Sora.  Whatever that means.  Alls I know is, it's hot. And I want it.

Swimming, I will talk about some other day. Just hoping to survive it, for the moment. I have the form, but not the endurance.


Today's race.  Just got home from this AM's Run for the Parks four-miler.  I was not signed up to do this race, but my friend David left me a message last night wondering if I was going.  I decided to let the fates decide.  If I woke up in time to get to the race to sign up by 7:30, I would.  Spot woke me up barfing at 5am, so I went.

Got there just before 7:00 to register and get my race number.  Then I had to sit around for close to an hour.  I knew some of my Teammates were going to be there, but I didn't see any of them. My plan was to hydrate well prior to the race, since it was a four-miler, I didn't feel it necessary to take a water stop unless I felt I needed to.  So before I left the house, I had a Nuun (my new favorite pre-run drink of choice -- it's an electrolyte tablet that dissolves in water.) I also had coffee when I woke up.  And when I got to the bandshell to register, turns out that one of the race sponsors was Zico coconut water, so I got a bottle of that.  I bided my pre-race time by going to the bathroom.  A lot.  Those of you who have actually read this blog know that I am obsessed with the amount of times I can go to the bathroom before the marathon (7 is the number to beat)  but for a four-mile race -- three times.  In under an hour. 

And then it's 7:50 and I head to the corral, and wouldn't you know it -- have to go again! What the --?   Well, I figured it would add to my urgency.

And...we're off!

I'm in the pink corral, which is more towards the back.  It was actually a good one to be in, so that I would start slow.  The course is the four-mile inside loop of Central Park, from E. 68th up to the 102nd Street transverse, over and back down the west side, finishing at the 72nd Street transverse.  This means that mile 1 has Cat Hill, which is the biggest hill, getting it over with early.  On Wednesday, I did my first set of hill repeats in a year, so I was prepared to just head up this bad boy once.  Mile 1, mostly uphill -- 9:30.  I was surprised, I thought I was going slower than that. 

Mile 2, mostly downhill, and I'm finding my pace  (and I have to peeeeee!) was another surprise -- 9:00.  What?  Didn't feel it.  But I knew mile 3 was hillier, so I wanted to take mile 3 a little slower, to give me juice for mile 4. 

For thems who don't run, there is a concept called the negative split that I ascribe to, where the second half of the race is run faster than the first half.  The theory is, instead of getting all the speed out early and hanging in there for the last part of the race, you start slow and speed up, leaving something in the tank for a push at the end and a strong finish.  That's why, a lot of times, big races like the marathon come down to the last mile, or even half mile, or even 10 feet.  The runners hold something back for the push at the end.  The question is, when is it going to come, and how long can the runner sustain it?

My issue isn't the slow first half, it's the not speeding up in the second half.  But I digress...

Mile 3, a hillier mile -- and the one that has, for some reason, the toughest hill, which is the one right by the ballfields in the West 90s.  Don't know why I find it harder than Cat Hill, which is a steeper hill and a longer one, but there you have it.  9:10 for mile 3.

Last mile, mostly downhill, and here's where the problem with being a slower runner is -- you're surrounded by slower runners.  So I want to go pedal to the medal, but I keep getting caught behind packs of slower people, and having to maneuver around them.  It's funny, I know this course like the back of my hand, but I never know when to start pushing.  I push a little harder, but make my move at 79th Street.  I open up my stride and really start to motor (at least for me, anyway).

Turned off my watch just  before hitting the finish line, but I looked down and saw this:

WHAAAA?  Wow. For some, a bad day at the office.  For me, everything just came up roses. 

My actual time was 36:08, and that last mile was more like an 8:20ish, but still, that is my fastest time for a mile since last year, maybe more. 

What does this mean?  Two things.  One -- if I can stay injury-free and train smart, this is going to be a great year.

And two -- I need to learn how to better pace the middle miles of a race.  If I have that much gas in the tank that I am able to hit that pace at the end, I need to use up a little more of that in the middle, and not be afraid of maintaining a faster pace over a longer distance.

So I'm off to the pool now for a swim.  Please donate to Fred's Team by clicking here, and good luck, Boston runners!! 

A Confession

I haven't posted because I haven't wanted to take my previous post down from the top of the heap.

People, I have a confession to make.

As I've said countless times, I'll be doing the NYC Marathon as a member of Fred's Team.  I was going to do the Nautica NYC Triathlon on my own, but was inspired to also make the triathlon a fundraising event.  I thought that I'd do it as a choose-your-own and raise maybe $1,000 or so.

Of course, at the last minute (6pm on a Friday) I start my registration process for the Tri with Fred's Team and discover it's a $5,000 commitment.

My confession:  I'm scared.

I don't work for a big corporation, and I don't have a lot of rich friends -- oops, scrap that. I don't have any rich friends. At least none that admit it.  I manage to raise $5,000 nearly every year for the marathon, but that takes six months and involves much teeth pulling.  I don't know that I can raise an additional $5,000.  Please keep in mind that I am the one who gives the fundraising tips for the Team newsletter.

Advice?  Encouragement?   Introduction to Donald Trump?

Love Like Liam

Yesterday was Liam's memorial service. Both a mourning of a death and a celebration of a life.
I was privileged to attend.

It was at St. Francis of Assisi Church on West 31st Street in Manhattan, across the street from the firehouse (Engine 1/Ladder 24) where Liam spent so much time, the firefighters gave him his own locker, complete with uniform.

The firefighters were outside the church, playing the bagpipes. Liam received a firefighter's funeral honors, and indeed, was named an official firefighter.

I idiotically walked through the side door and ended up in the family room. There were about 30 people there. After saying hello to Gretchen and Larry, I realized that I might be in the wrong place and asked someone to show me where the programs were. I was ushered into the main hall.

The church was overflowing with people. The request was to wear orange (Liam's favorite color) and ties (Liam was passionate about ties, and felt every day was a good day to wear one.) Men wearing bright orange ties, women wearing orange tops and shawls. Apparently, Liam's Army found that Forever 21 sells orange shawls and they were completely bought out. I wore my orange Fred's Team shirt, the one I wear when I run the actual marathon, with Liam's picture on the back (it's the picture on the right side of the blog).

There was singing from "The Lion King" and "Rent," as well as some psalms. One of Liam's nurses and Dr. LaQuaglia, Liam's surgeon from MSKCC spoke, as well as Robert Woodruff from ABC News. Gretchen spoke last.

We all heard about what a remarkable little boy Liam was -- so inquisitive, so fearless. How he bore all of his treatments -- and Dr. LaQuaglia let us know that Liam endured seven major surgeries, 25 procedures requiring anesthesia, and 111 other tests -- with no complaints. How he was so concerned for others that even when he himself was not feeling well, when his nurse told him that she, too, was feeling ill and needed to go home early, Liam pulled her down to him so they were face to face and gently kissed her on the forehead. How Liam wanted to go to a Halloween party so badly that immediately after he finished a high-dose chemo treatment, he put on a Superman costume, went to the party, and volunteered to get on stage and sing his A-B-Cs with the musicians.

As much as they could, the Witts made sure that Liam was a boy first and foremost. He loved school and went nearly every day. He loved to scooter (and frequently got in trouble for scootering in the hallways of MSKCC), and was always looking for the next science or craft project. He loved playing on the iPad, and once downloaded 27 cooking apps before his parents realized he had memorized the iTunes account password. He loved to throw himself in the pool wearing nothing but swim goggles.

Gretchen put it best during her eulogy -- she said, "Liam was OUR son." And by that, she meant that he was everyone's son. Everyone who met him, be it in person or through Cookies for Kids' Cancer or Gretchen's blog, fell hopelessly in love with him and felt that he was theirs. That made us fight so hard for him, and grieve even harder.

Liam lived. And he lived every moment of every day. His teachers told us that he would frequently ask, "If not now, when?" What better call to action than that, and what better words to live by?


Wherever he went, Liam made people feel at ease. He was so quick and easy to love whoever he met, and you couldn't help but love him right back. The day I met him, he declared his love for me within minutes, and he meant it.

Gretchen asked us all to love like Liam -- openly and completely. There is no more fitting legacy for a boy who was the very embodiment of love.

Do You Believe In...

This week I was good, I ran Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Monday I stayed on the path and did a five-miler. Wednesday I did the crazy bridle path in the ice for 4 1/2, and Friday I did five going clockwise, stopping at NYRR to pick up my race number. They all actually felt good. I bought a face mask from Harriet Carter (that's right, people. Harriet Carter) that helps me breathe better in the colder air, but makes me look even more ridiculous than I already look when I run (thanks to my beloved, but admittedly goofy-looking, VFFs). So I was looking forward to this morning's outing.

Today was the Gridiron Four-Miler in Central Park. The first actual race I would be running since July. The Midnight Run wasn't a race, and the Fred Lebow 5-Miler was called due to weather. So much for getting my nine races in without actually running any of them.

I was also weirdly scared. I really want to get back to the joy of running, and one of the ways I've been doing that is by not wearing a watch. The times I've been on the treadmill, the clock is unavoidable, but I'm really not wanting to see how fast -- or in my case, how slow I'm going. I just want to put the miles in and enjoy them. And I get crazy competitive when I race, in my own mind, at least. So today was going to be both a test of my ability to run my own race, and also to see what my time is for the first time since June or July, really.

37 degrees, a brilliant temperature. Ducked into the third-to-last corral -- I have no delusions. NYRR does, though -- they calculate your corral based on your fastest mile in a race over four miles, but they don't update that every year. It's your fastest mile ever with NYRR. For me, that's a 7:58 from 2007. Ha ha! Like I'll be reaching THAT again any time soon. I have enough good sense to not go near my own corral. Even when I could run that pace, I want to start slow and build up, so I start in a slower corral to hold myself back for the first few miles.

And we're off. So far back we didn't hear the starting horn. Took over eight minutes to get to the starting line. Chug-a-lug with the pack up Cat Hill and up the East Drive. Thinking I'd like to be at a 10:00 pace, that I'd happy with a finish between 40 and 41. Much happier to be slightly under, of course. But I didn't want to push. Just wanted to run.

As I passed the mile 1 marker I tried not to look at my watch, but did and saw the split -- 9:58. Really? Normally my first mile is closer to 10:30 because of the crowding.

Up East Drive heading to the transverse. Ran into Teammate Maureen. She's also been out of the game for a while with injuries. She's taking it easy, too. We separated on the transverse. Got water. A woman next to me told me she thought the race started at 102nd, not 72nd, had to run back to the start line and just barely made it across before they took it up. Mile 2 -- 9:41. Didn't feel like it, but then again, I'm not sure what running at a certain time feels like anymore.

Fun thing -- NYRR split the transverse into Packers side and Steelers side. Run on the side you're rooting for. They used the D-Tags to track the results (results not posted as of my writing this.)

Down the west side. Mile 3 is mostly uphill, but I saw the Natural Living guy doing his usual speedwalk against the traffic, shouting encouragement. Ah, yes. NOW we're feeling good! I was hoping to see him. It doesn't feel like a race when he's not there. Mile 3, again, somewhere around 9:46.

Mile 4 is mainly downhill. Very crowded, thanks to people and a narrower roadway thanks to show pile-up on the sides. I see the finish line and I try to push the last few hundred feet. Crowd notwithstanding, just before I cross the line I hit my watch...

Miracles do happen, I suppose.

Of course, my time is not official. But it doesn't matter. The point is, I didn't get caught up in the racing. I came out to have a good run, and hopefully post a decent time. And I did both.

This makes me feel a lot better about the training to come. I want so badly to do well during the marathon, and in Liam's honor, I'm not going to slack off. Even if I'm running 15-minute miles, they'll be the best 15-minute miles I can squeeze out. But it's nice to see at this stage that I am capable of more, and I intend to deliver.

On the Road Again...

So here is how I am responding to Gretchen's call to action:

Since I already have an entry into the Nautica NYC Triathlon, I'm going to run it as a "Choose Your Own" event for Fred's Team. That way, I can open my fundraising page early (next month!) and start fundraising now, and then once the marathon fundraising page starts in April, I can pick up from there.

So even though I'm sure you've bought lots and lots of cookies, when my fundraising page opens, I hope you will donate to my fundraising efforts as well. All the money goes to the same place -- pediatric cancer research at MSKCC.

Liam's passing has also literally motivated me into action. When I first heard the news, I put on my running clothes and headed to Central Park. I ran up to the bridle path, then around the path -- snow, ice and all. Normally I enjoy running on ice and snow because the precarious footing can make even the dullest route engaging. But I wasn't running for enjoyment.

It was a shortish run -- four and a half miles -- but having part of it on ice made it super-strenuous. It helped get a lot of anger out, and because I really needed to pay attention to my footing, I couldn't really think about much else.

Today was the first Team workout in preparation for the NYC Half. As I've said in prior posts, I'm not running the NY Half, but I'm training with the Team as if I was. So at 8:00 am on a 30 degree day, a little over a dozen of us showed up in the Park for a 7-miler. I only did 6, because the longest I've done to date is 5 1/2.

It was not a great run for me. I find that under 35 degrees I have a little trouble breathing, and that wears me out. I wore a bandana over my mouth, but it got wet and uncomfortable. There's also a very fine line between freezing and sweating. I go from "I need to warm up" to "Holy crap, I'm hot." There is no period of "warm." And when I removed my outer layer, all the layers underneath were wet, so then I'm cold again. Grrr. Need we mention I'm one of the slowest people there? I had to walk three times.

Nevertheless, I'm glad I went. I'm glad to be with the Team, and I'm glad to be running at all.

What I need to do is not compare myself to where I was when I was at my fittest and fastest. I want to be happy with where I am now. What worries me is that I feel I am making a pretty good effort now, and if this is where I am at 80 percent effort, what is it going to take to improve? This is going to be one tough training season. I know I have what it takes to get through it mentally, but do I have it physically? That's the question.

A Call to Arms

True to Gretchen's form, she is both grieving and mobilizing the Prince's army into action. I cannot believe the generosity with which she shared her family and her journey. She embraced the truth that not her child, but no child should ever have to suffer, and at a time when most families would have turned inward and focused 100 percent on themselves, Gretchen was somehow able to find yet another 100 percent, to also focus on a way to help all children fighting cancer. And as she mourns, she is also asking people to not let Liam's battle be in vain.

Cookies for Kids' Cancer is such a simple idea -- have a bake sale, and send the money for pediatric cancer research. I volunteered the first year, when Gretchen thought, "Let's bake 96,000 cookies and give the money to pediatric cancer research." Well, those 96,000 went in three weeks, and raised $400,000. Now the idea is national. There are whole towns holding bake sales. Glad products is an official sponsor.

Here's what you can do to celebrate the life of a boy who took everything that was thrown at him with a smile, and was the embodiment of love and courage:

BUY COOKIES

Go to the website and order cookies. They are delicious, and all the money raised goes to fund research projects aimed at curing pediatric cancers.

HAVE A BAKE SALE

The site has great suggestions for how to hold a successful bake sale. If you have children, have a bake sale at their school. Hold a bake-off in your office, or your house of worship.

RUN MARATHONS

Or half-marathons, or triathlons -- or anything, really -- as a member of Fred's Team, and inspire people to donate to the Aubrey Fund for Pediatric Cancer Research on your behalf. Host a 5K, and send the proceeds to the Team. Or run on one of Fred's Team's teams, wherever you are in the country. In NYC, entries are available for the Nautica Tri. Contact the Team via the website for more information.

Celebrate sweet Liam's life by doing something sweet. Cookies are, indeed, good for you!

No Words

Dear, sweet Liam Witt, the boy who has inspired nearly every step I have run for the past four years, passed away yesterday from neuroblastoma at the age of 6.

Words cannot express the sadness, and also the fury.

Money is the only reason that a cure has not been found.

Please, please, go to Cookies for Kids' Cancer and buy cookies, or hold a bake sale and send your proceeds to them. Go to Fred's Team and donate to the Aubrey Fund.

Do something.

Liam Update, Buy Cookies, and Getting Into the Groove

I need your prayers for Liam. The news is not good, and it just gets worse. His latest scans were awful. Chemo is not working. This kid has such an amazing spirit, and he never complains, and it's just so unfair that any child has to endure such insidious disease. It's even more unfair that the only thing standing between Liam and a cure is money to fund the research and develop the treatments that he needs. Children's cancers, especially rare ones such as neuroblastoma, have been underfunded for years. Why are we not protecting our children by working to eradicate these diseases?

I am not actively fundraising right now, but if you want to make a general donation to Fred's Team and the Aubrey Fund for Pediatric Cancer Research, just click here and click on the "Donate" link.

Another way to help is to go to Cookies For Kids' Cancer, the organization founded by Liam's mom, Gretchen. You can order cookies, or learn how to organize a bake sale, and send the proceeds to CKC. All the money goes to neuroblastoma research and treatment at MSKCC.

Liam inspires me to train. It will be NYC 2011 and also the Nautica Tri. Possibly the Flying Pig. We shall see.

As for my training, it's been sporadic, but I'm starting to get back into a routine. I did a 40-minute treadmill run and managed not to be bored out of my skull. Even more amazing, I was watching Gov. Christie's State of the State address while doing so. What does that mean? I used the treadmill run to do sprint intervals, getting up to 7.7 mph (unsure of the mile time) for up to 90 seconds at a time.

I did my first loop of Central Park last weekend. Well, almost. I started to walk a little at the 5 1/2 mile, because I haven't run over five in a while, and I'm not making that "oh, it's just a little more, what could it hurt?" mistake again. But I ran the Great Hill non-stop!

Today, I did 20 on the treadmill, not too comfortably -- had a stitch in my side most of the way. Fortunately, I got a phone call from work, and had to stop. Couldn't get back into it, and switched to the bike for 25. Then worked on legs and a little arms for about 40 more minutes. I need to get more pool time in pronto, but have to branch out from the 4-foot long NYSC pool in the Marriott if I really want to start building endurance.

Fred's Team will soon be training for the NYC Half Marathon. I didn't get in -- most NYers didn't -- and I'm not too brokenhearted. I can run a loop and a half of the Park for free, not $75. But I will admit that running through Times Square was pretty cool (I ran this two years ago). I am going to train with the Team, and as we get closer to the date, if a spot opens up through the Team, maybe I'll take it. We'll see.

Finally, last night I was asked to speak at the Fred's Team Half-Marathon Kick-Off over at Sloan, to talk to people about fundraising and offer tips and ideas. I'm not the Team's top fundraiser, but I am the most persistent, as you all know, dear readers, and short of bikini car washes, I've pretty much tried everything to raise money for Fred's Team and the Aubrey Fund in Liam's honor. So it was great to share what I've done with other Team members. And just you wait, because this year, I'm pulling out all the stops...

Slowly I Turn...

A very short post --

Over the past three weeks I have started running again. Five minutes at a time, once a week. The frankenfoot is perpetually a bit achy -- I think I have gained the ability to forecast the weather, and it's been ultra humid -- but it does not hurt to run at all. Because I refuse to give up my beloved Vibrams, I am taking my return to the road extra-cautiously. So far, only treadmill runs. Just think -- tack on another four hours and fifteen minutes, and that's a marathon!

I have to run, both for my sanity (nothing replaces running for stress relief) and for Liam. People have been extra-generous over the years, and even though I can't run this year, people are still donating. How can I not get myself back into the fight? Liam needs all the support he can get. MSKCC needs all the support it can get to help Liam. So I will continue to fundraise, and slowly build myself back up to marathon distance for next year, where it will be Chicago and New York, I swear it.

I haven't been able to attend Team practices or events until just about a week ago. Not because of time constraints, but because mentally, I wasn't able to. It's still a struggle, when I see the Team newsletter in my mailbox, or get something about the marathon from NYRR -- it's extremely upsetting not to be involved as a runner. I still want to cry, and sometimes I do. I miss everyone, but it's not helpful for them if I show up to a Team practice and do nothing but weep. I need to get over myself.

I will be volunteering to be part of the Team support staff during the marathon, which is a marathon in itself -- 16 straight hours, starting at 3 am.

You can still donate to my Fred's Team effort -- regardless of my running or not -- by clicking here.

Thanks, as always. More news on the running front soon, I hope.

I'll get right to the point:

Liam Witt, the little boy I have been running the marathon for over the last four years, who has bounced back from everything thrown at him, be it the cancer or the treatment for the cancer -- well, the cancer has returned again, both in the original spot and in two new spots. he had surgery five weeks ago to remove a tumor in his chest, and the latest scans indicate that the cancer has already returned to that spot. The doctors are going to do everything they can to get him back into remission, but the odds are no longer in Liam's favor.

I am not running either New York or Chicago this year -- the tendonitis, plus a stress fracture in my left foot has seen to that -- but cancer doesn't take two marathons off. I am still doing everything I can to support Fred's Team and the Aubrey Fund, and try to raise as much money as I can regardless of running, to help the doctors at MSKCC develop new treatments that will help Liam, and others like him.

If you can help me in any way, please go to my Fred's Team site and make a donation, by clicking here, or at the links on the side and bottom of the page.

If you wish to donate by check, please make it payable to "MSKCC" and send it to me. I'll take care of getting it to the right people. My address is: 152 West 58th Street, #2D, New York, NY, 10019-2111.

If you have children, you can involve them in a bake sale. Gretchen, Liam's mom, founded "Cookies For Kids Cancer." They'll give you the tools to hold a successful bake sale, and then you send the money to them, which all goes for neuroblastoma research at MSKCC. You can click on the link here, or go to http://www.cookiesforkidscancer.org.

Please read Gretchen's blog about Liam, "Prince Liam The Brave," by clicking on the link.

And please, please, keep Liam and his family in your thoughts and prayers.

More anon.
MG

The Honor Roll Begins Anew, plus the Scotland Run 10K, The Run as One 4-Miler, and did I mention I love Vibrams?

With the start of the 2010 training season comes the start of the

2010 FRED'S TEAM HONOR ROLL

But first, apologies to all those amazing people from last year, who I never sent a thank-you card to. I'm going to be a lot better this year, thanks to MSKCC's new and much-improved website. If there's a way to get at you 2009 folks, I will soon!! I promise!!

And now, without further ado, the first person on the 2010 Honor Roll is...

DR. KAREN THORNTON

That should remind you all to go get a check-up before starting any exercise regimen.

Dr. Thornton is closely followed by
CARL and REVA TAIT
JIM SEMMELMAN
FRED WEINER
and
THE GeBAUER FAMILY

bringing the total going so far to the Aubrey Fund for Pediatric Research in honor of Liam Witt so far to a cracking
$400
That's a great start, but we've got miles to go -- literally!

I will repeat and reiterate my promise slash threat to run both the NYC AND Chicago Marathons if I can raise $6500 by September. Did I mention I hate running marathons? I sure do! But I do love the idea of a world without cancer, especially pediatric cancer, and if that's what it takes to get people to donate, then that's what I'll do.


So if you want to help me honor the amazing Prince Liam, or just enjoy the idea of me running two marathons in three weeks, when I can barely do one a year, just click here to make a secure donation on my Fred's Team website.


(that's my VFF-clad foot next to Fred's feet at his statue in Central Park, by the way!)

Also in the works -- and this time I kid you not -- an actual podcast. Details to follow.

So I did a couple of races since last we spoke. The first one was the Scotland Run, a 10K that's a clockwise loop of Central Park. I sort of prefer the clockwise loop to the normal counterclockwise run -- it's more uphills, but the hills aren't as steep. And you get to go down Cat Hill instead of up.

Now, I come to the Scotland Run having run a grand total of three whopping miles in the previous two weeks. Conventional wisdom would dictate that I sit this one out. But I am neither conventional, nor wise.

Wore my VFF KSOs (KSO = keep stuff out) with rainbow-colored injinji socks, which made me look like even more of a buffoon than just wearing the Sprints. I don't care -- I LOVE MY VIBRAMS!! But there's a seam in the Sprints and the KSOs that keep giving me blisters. Covering the seam doesn't work -- the tape doesn't stick -- and covering the spot on the foot doesn't work -- the Band-Aid doesn't stick. Other than that, did I mention I love my Vibrams?? They have put the spring back into my step. So I must wear toe socks to go with the toe shoes.

I get to the Park on race morning. I figure I won't go fast -- like I would anyway, that's a laugh, but I won't push, and I'll walk when I need to. Just get through it. I run into many Teammates, including a few who are in my boat, so I don't feel too bad about my slacker ways. They're planning to do the same as me, and we all head to the corralls together. I have my iPod with me, and I put on a "This American Life" podcast. I have been training myself to run iPod-free, but my strategy for today was to listen to something soothing, so that I would stay relaxed and not start pushing my pace, like I do when I listen to one of my patented race-day mixes ("Bat Out of Hell," anyone?)

The race begins, and though my Teammies and I have the same game plan, it becomes clear right away that either a) I am not paying attention to the game plan, or b) they are going to take it even easier than I thought. Most likely, a) and b). Hindsight being as 20/20 as it is, I should have probably stuck with them longer -- like maybe more than five feet past the starting line -- but as soon as I started running, I knew it was going to be a run pretty much all the way.

That being said, I did manage to do at least some self-preserving by going even slower than my normal turtle pace, and by really walking the water stations, and by that, I mean getting my cup, moving to the side, and walking for at least a minute. I think there were four stations, and I walked them all. But I ran the rest of the race. That danged competitive streak, I can't let it go! I see someone in a shirt I don't like, or for whatever reason, and I simply must pass them.

Side note -- one year, my bestie Laura and I did the Midnight Run together. Part of the fun of the event is the pre-show costume contest, and a lot more people wear costumes anyway, just for kicks. Laura is not a runner, by the way, and the run isn't even timed. So we're doing as much walking as running, and everything is great until a group of people dressed as the components of a McDonald's Happy Meal pass us. I will NOT be beaten by french fries!! I made Laura run that last mile, but we couldn't catch them. Oh, that broke my heart.

Anyways, I finished the Scotland Run in 1:07, a PW (personal worst,) ending up with some pretty sore calves, but at least not too much the worse for wear.

Which inspired me to get a little bit more of a groove on for the next race, which was the four-mile Run as One. That's the run sponsored by the Thomas Labrecque Foundation for Lung Cancer research. I like this race, and figured four miles would be more my speed.

Ran into Teammate Emily in the corrall. She's back in action after a nasty fall (tripped over the toes of a pair of improperly-sized Vibrams and broke her wrist. Love me them Vibrams, but they need to fit you right! Get them fit by someone who knows how to size you properly -- they are indeed very different from a normal shoe.) She read this here little ol' blog and said, "So if you may run Chicago, doesn't that mean you need to train like you're going to run Chicago?"

Oops.

Changed the iPod setting from NPR to Meat Loaf, and for all intents and purposes, we're off!

Not much to report on this race that's noteworthy, but to say I didn't really push that hard until the final couple hundred feet on the transverse, and finished in 37:28.

That gave me a LOT of hope for this training season. Where I am right now is about where I was two years ago, where I had a HUGE improvement in my running during the training season. So knock on wood and God willing, if I can buckle down and put the work in, I'll see similar improvement this year, too. Hey, it couldn't get any worse...

Now, More than Ever...

Okay, folks.

This is the point where we knuckle down and get to work.

Where I start posting regularly.

Where I actually start the podcast I've been threatening to start for two years.

Where training begins.

Yes, it's time to start training for the 2010 NYC Marathon.

And that means it's time to open my annual fundraising appeal.

Let's cut to the chase. I hate begging y'all for money every year (except my parents, of course. They owe me. ) And I hate running the marathon every year.

But here's why I do both:

My inspiration, my Prince, Liam Witt, just got the results back from his latest round of scans and the neuroblastoma he's been battling for three years has returned again, in two different locations.

Neuroblastoma is a rare form of cancer, and thus, its treatment and research has been woefully underfunded. Memorial Sloan-Kettering has been leading the world in developing new treatment regimens to fight it, and all of the money for that research and treatment comes from the Aubrey Fund for Pediatric Cancer Research.

Until there's a cure, I will be running for Fred's Team and the Aubrey Fund.

Please help me honor Liam Witt, and all the children battling this insidious disease, by donating to the Aubrey Fund of behalf of my fifth NYC Marathon effort. Just click here to make a secure donation online.

If you wish to show your support with a check, please make it payable to "MSKCC" and send it to me:
Marci Glotzer
152 W. 58th St. #2D
New York, NY 10019-2111

I'll start the threat now, and we can see what happens -- if I raise enough money to do both NYC AND Chicago in time to run the Chicago Marathon, I will ALSO run the Chicago Marathon.

How's THAT for a threat??

So if you want to see me really knock myself silly for a cause, you know what needs to be done!

More running, and posting, anon.

The Post In Which Marci Actually Runs the Marathon

Last Sunday I finished a little run around the five boroughs, aka the NYC Marathon, my fourth time through. This is not so much a race report as a psychological profile, and I apologize for its mega-length, but I'll do my best to at least be entertaining.

I had a rough training season, as you all know. Between starting a new career and starting, um, a new phase in my female life (how's that for euphemism?) I was putting in the miles, and putting in the effort, but seeing little result. In fact, I was getting slower and slower with each run, and the miles were getting harder and harder to complete. It was devastating, as I was really hoping to break four hours this year, and as the months ticked by, it was becoming less and less of a possibility. I was beginning to wondering if I even had it in me to complete the distance.

Coaches Ann and Jeff were amazing, offering lots of support and advice -- not just about running, but how to mentally approach the race and deal with the difficulties I've been having. I also saw a hypnotist -- don't laugh! -- to help me change my attitude about the race and reinforce what my coaches were saying. (more on this in a minute.) As race day approached, I wasn't nervous, or upset, or anything. I was strangely at peace. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen.

After a Team breakfast and a picture in Duffy Square, we arrived to a muddy Staten Island. This was the first year NYRR offered a charity village for all the charity teams, and Fred's Team scored a tent! Of course, it was just as muddy inside the tent as outside, despite the bunches of hay that had been thrown in there, so we put garbage bags down and laid in our muddy manger for a while. The temps were in the low 50s, warm enough not to really need a heavy throwaway outfit, so I wore the clothes I intended to wear post-race and tried not to get them too dirty. Fortunately, I had worn a second pair of shoes and socks, which were quickly ruined in the mud. Most people tied bags around their feet. (Note to Caroline -- don't bring scented gargabe bags next year!!)

Time to line up. Once again, I'm in the green corral (NY has three corrals. The green corral runs on the lower roadway of the Verrazano, orange and blue run on top) and once again, the green corral was all f-ed up. There are three wave start times for the runners -- 9:40, 10:00 and 10:20. I was in wave 2. I was in the second-to-last corral of the second wave of the green start. I actually entered the corral at 9:30am for a 10:00am start. 9:40, the cannons boom and the runners are off! You can see them from the green corral, and we all cheered and waved. 10:00, the cannons boom, runners are off -- and we don't move. Not again!! This happened to me two years ago, and I didn't cross the start line until after 11:00, over an hour late. They only let the first half of the green corral go out with the second wave, and our part of the corral didn't get to go until the third wave. Time-wise, it doesn't matter, since you're timed when you cross the start line, but I had people waiting for me, and I really wanted to get to MSKCC to see the kids, even though Liam wasn't going to be among them.

Finally -- cannons, "New York, New York," and we're off!

There were already people walking as we started up the Verazzano, which is Mile 1. Not people on the Galloway program -- walkers. Not that I'm much faster, but I do run the whole thing. Our coach always advises us not to try to pass people in the first few miles, so that we don't add more distance to the race or burn out too early. Tuck behind someone slow and get yourself warmed up. But if that someone is walking, I do need to step around them. The bridge was also super-windy. People who were still wearing plastic bags and coats were getting blown all over the roadway.

The green start follows a different course for the first three miles, off the bridge and onto the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway exit ramp, until we rejoin the blue corral on 4th Avenue. Some folks manage to get down to the BQE to cheer, as they do every year, and I'll never figure out how they managed to do that! But the general lack of spectators gave me a chance to find my groove.

The first few miles ticked off pretty fast, and I felt great. My times, however, not so much. I quickly realized that not only was I not going to break four hours, 4:30 was probably not too likely, either. And my PR on the course is 4:12. So somewhere around mile 6 or 7, I just said to myself, "It's not worth it to get upset. Let's just run it and have a good time." And I stopped checking the mile splits and just ran. (It was also helpful that, as the third wave, the timing clocks at each mile marker were completely off. I mean, I know I'm slow, but it didn't take me 58 minutes to cross the Verazzano!)

Now, this is something that even three weeks ago, I wouldn't be able to do. Not reaching my time goal would have sent me into a tailspin and ruined the day. I would have felt every ache and pain, and spent the next four hours feeling sorry for myself. Granted, as a charity runner, I always have the cause I run for as a source of inspiration, and even at the lowest point of my training, I would think about my buddy Liam, and pull myself together. This time, I wasn't going to that "bad" place. I was happy where I was at that moment. I wasn't there to break a time goal or to win -- although I'm still figuring out a way to disqualify the 28,000 or so people who finished ahead of me -- I was there to run.

So, attitude adjusted, it was on through the non-stop party known as Brooklyn.

The first half of the marathon is run in Brooklyn. It's very flat, and very boisterous, and the half is done almost before you know it. There are two spots in Brooklyn I especially love -- there's a church choir that comes out and sings (it's my understanding that they used to get peeved at how the marathon disrupted things, then they decided to embrace it) and it's always just thrilling to hear them. There's also a student marching band that plays nothing but the "Rocky" theme over and over, and I think this year they actually sounded good.

Over the Pulaski Bridge into Queens. There were some minor course changes in Brooklyn and Queens, and I realized as we came off the Pulaski that the spot my parents normally stake out wasn't part of the route any more. There used to be a hairpin off the Pulaski, and then again onto Vernon, and my parents set themselves up at the hay bales by Vernon. They eliminated the hairpin turns, I guess to make it safer for the wheelchairs and handcyclists, and had us coming down a different street. I figured that if I stayed to the left, they'd be there somewhere, and I was right. My parents, brother, and his three little girls were there to cheer Tante Marci on. The oldest had even printed a "Go, Marci go!" sign all by herself. A few kisses, a few sweaty hugs, and on we go!

Over the Queensborough Bridge, and this year was the first time I thought the bridge was brighter than usual. I remember the bridge to be dark, almost indoors. I don't know why. Not this year. It was, however, as quiet as usual as we went up the one-mile incline. And then we begin our initial descent into Manhattan, to the roar of the crowd.

Onto First Avenue and the best part of the race, running past MSKCC! The photographers was there, and all the volunteers, and when they see a Fred's Team runner they go wild!! One of the volunteers grabbed me as I hit 67th Street and said "Come meet the children!" and ran me over to where two of the kids were sitting and watching. They were no bigger than peanuts, sitting on their parents laps, all bundled up and attached to various machines and gizmos, yet they had little cheer sticks and big smiles. I said hello to them, and said how glad I was that they could come out to cheer, thank you so much!! Slapped hands with everyone there, and on my way, heart full and feet newly light.

The only problem with MSKCC being at Mile 17 is that you feel so good after seeing everyone there, you almost forget you've got nine more miles to go. Almost. Up past the wet sponge stop (aka the Slip and Slide) and the Power Bar stop, and it's over the Willis Avenue Bridge into Da Bronx.

As usual, the Bronx is hopping. Two DJ booths and a Japanese drum group in just a one-mile stretch. The bridge is Mile 20, but for me, there was no wall. Just an acceptance of soreness and the desire to move forward.

Over the Madison Avenue Bridge (barely a speed bump) and back into Manhattan. Up Fifth Avenue to Mount Morris Park, and wouldn't you know it, I again miss the choir. I always arrive too late to hear the choir!! There was some nice jazz singing on the north side of the park, though.

The stretch between 125th and 89th, the entrance into Central Park, is notorious, especially between 110th and 90th, because it's uphill. Not a huge incline, but just enough that you feel it. Lots of walkers at that point. My strategy for the past few years has been to keep my eyes focused on the people in front of me, so I don't see the grade. After all, if I don't see the hill, it doesn't exist. Right? Get to the Park entrance and see the second Fred's Team cheering section there. Just the boost I need to get me the last two and a half miles.

At this point, I was on auto-pilot. Just kept chugging away. Stayed close to the crowds and visualized the rest of the course: Down, up, down, around, up, in, up, and done. Down Cat Hill (a relief, but it's really hard to go downhill at the tail end of a marathon,) up the little speed bump at 72nd Street, down the exit ramp to 5th Avenue (stopping at Mile 25 for water, because I was so dehydrated at that point, even after stopping to drink at all but one water station,) across 5th to Central Park South, up Central Park South, which in years past I dreaded, it being both uphill and somehow stretching to three times its normal length (remember that scene in "Poltergeist," where the mom is getting ready to run down the hall, and the hall suddenly elongates? That's what Central Park South feels like.) This year, just pushed ahead. Didn't even hear the crowd.

Back up onto Columbus Circle and back into Central Park, making sure my bib number was clearly visible -- that's where the bandits get yanked -- up that last little hill as the crowds cheered, and...

HOME.

Harrie finished right around the same time as me, and we hugged and made our way past the medal station, the photo station, the heat shield station, the heat shield sticker station, and the food bag station. It was so much more crowded than in years past as we shuffled to the Cherry Hill turn-off (charity runners are taken to the center of the Park, to be reunited with our teams and our baggage.)

There were a number of Teammates who didn't run NY this year, either due to injury, or because they ran Chicago, or just 'cause. But they are Teammates, and they all volunteered to be at Cherry Hill to help the runners. Nicole got me and walked me up the hill. She said, "Do you need me to carry your bag?" meaning my food bag. I held it out mutely and stared at it. Did she need to carry it? "I'll take that," she said, and did. I told her I needed to go to the bathroom. She asked me if I wanted to get my clothes first. Did I? I didn't know. I wouldn't have known my name if it wasn't written on my shirt. So I stood there. Nicole said, "Go to the bathroom, I'll get your stuff." Done. She walked me over to where some of the Team was sitting. "Do you want me to get you a chair?" Did I? Did I need one? Nicole didn't even wait for me to think about this one, and quickly added, "I'll get you a chair." What a mess I was!! It took me 20 minutes to get my pants on (apparently I beat Jill -- Karen had to pool her pants on the ground, put Jill's feet in them, and pulled them up for her!)

The hardest thing about running NY, as I've said in years past, is not the marathon itself, it's getting out of Central Park once it's over. In order to leave the Park, we have to get around the runners exiting beyond the finish line. So they construct a pedestrian bridge over the roadway so the charity runners can cross OVER the runners and exit the park. That bridge is going to get its own little corner of h-e-double hockey sticks. It's like scaling Mount Everest on the ascent, and like you're a two-year-old on the descent, hanging onto the railings and taking each step two feet at a time. Though I live half a mile from the finish line, it takes me an hour to get home each year.

Ice bath (THANK YOU, Bill, my faithful ice bitch, who came back into the city just to get me two bags of ice) and then back to the hotel for a delicious dinner!

If you've stuck with me so far, thanks. I leave you with this: I ran my fourth NYC Marathon in 4:39 and change. Not my worst time, but close to it. But I am really not upset about it. A little disappointed, yes, but not upset. Here's why. In my zeal to conquer the mythic four-hour time goal, I forgot the real reason I run -- I love it. And while I don't really love running marathons, I do love the cause I run marathons for. Fortunately, I remembered that love just in time. Knowing that I was going to conquer the distance even after such a questionable training season, and seeing the faces of the kids at MSKCC light up when I came by -- well, who cares about the time? And while I will most likely keep trying to break four hours, because I am a glutton for punishment, it will no longer be the be-all and end-all of my running existence. I want to be a better runner, but I want to be a better person more. And that's what I'm going to work towards.

PS: I did break one record -- I managed to go to the bathroom eight times between waking up and starting the marathon!

24 Hours to Go

The basics:

#42328

10am start

Green wave (why does NYRR have it in for me? Will I ever see the top tier of the Verazzano again?)

Second-to-last corral (then again, the last time I was in this choice corral, I PR'ed.)

The bigger reason:

$4887

and the following amazing people who joined the Fred's Team Honor Roll who helped make it possible:

GREG KORDICK

LAURA QUINN

CHRIS WOODS

JAY FISCHLER

WILLIAM GIOCONDA

MICHAEL GRAZIANO

and

A FRIEND who hates having their name mentioned on blogs and such

As you know (because I don't shut up about it) , it's never too late to donate. Just click here and help me honor

the REAL REASON I do this:

My inspiration, my Superman, the real marathon runner. Prince Liam the Brave.

I will be in Fred's Team orange and blue, along with 700 of my brethren.

And whatever my finish time, it will be the best day of the year.

Pardon the Silence...

Yes, it's been that long.

Between work and training, there just hasn't been enough time for regular updates. That is laziness on my part, and I apologize. There is so much to tell you, which overwhelms me, and probably led to me not posting on those few occassions that I had time to post.

I will be brief, and just leave you with a few digestible chunks before I can get to a few more updates:

-Liam is doing really well. He is receiving both chemotherapy and radiation, but goes to school when he can, and smiles through it all. He continues to be an inspiration to me, and to all who meet him. Please read Gretchen's blog about their family's journey through neuroblastoma, "Prince Liam the Brave."

-I am in the enviable position of having too much work. as I said before, which had led to my lack of posts.

-I recently started swimming lessons, which right now are more drowning avoidance than actual swimming, but I am now able to go 50 yards without my heart exploding out of my body. Strange how I can run marathons, but can barely make it across the pool. Different set of muscles, I know.

Most importantly, as of today, the total going to the Aubrey Fund for Pediatric Cancer Research in honor of Liam is

$3532

I'm hoping to make it to $4000 before the end of the month. Can you help? If you want to donate a little cheddar towards the Fund, click here. The hundreds of children now cancer-free thanks to the research and treatment funded by the Aubrey Fund will tell you it's worth it.

There are many people to thank for that, and the latest are
LARRY HELFER
ED COX
JOHN F. BOYLAN
KERI KUHLMEIER
GREG JOHNSON
IRENE KUTHER
ROBERT MUFFOLETTO
ELLEN HORAITIS
EDYTHE SCHAERF
JACQUELINE BRONER
JACK CACAMIS
SALVINA SCERRI
and my brother
SCOTT

Wow.

I have had a lot of difficulties with my training this year.

First of all, I'm a woman of a certain age.

Secondly, I've embarked on a new career that in many ways is a lot more demanding in terms of my time. So stress levels are different.

Did I mention I was a woman of a certain age?

Let's face it -- I'm in peri-menopause. Because menopause apparently isn't fun enough, your body gives you a three-to-five year preview. Everything in my body is just a little out of whack.

And that, apparently, makes all the difference between legs of iron, and legs of lead.

My Tuesday and Thursday workouts have all been great. I've really been pushing myself and trying hard. And I've been doing a lot of cross-training, and the swimming is really beneficial. As far as cardio is concerned, no problems.

But each long run is slower than the last. Our 20-miler this past Saturday I did in 3:33. That's slower than my first year's long runs. That should have been at a 3:10, or 3:15. My legs just don't have the turnover or bounce that they did. (Well, that's not totally true. They bounce, all right. That's why I have to wear compression shorts. Speaking of which, I've also started wearing compression calf guards to help with the shin splints. It's a wonder that, between the two, my knees don't explode.)

What I am hoping is that this is a combination of the weather -- every long run we've done over the last month has been in either the rain or in extreme humidity -- and the constant training. But I fear that is only some of the problem. I mean, our workouts were just as intense in years past, and I was always able to improve on my long runs. I think that the problem is something that I can push through, but can't push past, and that is, simply, that you can fight Mother Nature only so hard before she fights back.

I am extremely disappointed that I feel timing-wise, I'm no better than when I started running marathons four years ago. I really thought this was going to be the year I broke four hours. But I don't think this is going to be the year.

Nevertheless, I am not giving up. I am really trying not to let it get to me. It's where I am that's what's important, not where I was. I need to accept that, and concentrate on the mile that I'm running. It's not easy, and making it even harder is that these long runs have become very emotional for me. Poor Coach Jeff had to deal with my messitude after Saturday's race. Again.

I need to remember that I am running for a reason far more important than breaking a time goal.

But wouldn't it be nice...