Resolution Time

Well, folks, it’s almost that time of year.  

I am a very solid believer in New Year’s Resolutions.  Almost every year I sit down and write out some things that I wish to accomplish.  Each year is different, and I have experienced varying degrees of success from year to year.  Will I be successful this year?  Who knows?  But what I do know was that 2015 was not a smashing success for me when it came to my resolutions.

I set out to lose some weight and run back-to-back marathons, but I did neither.  I did finish two marathons (the A1A in February and the Marine Corps in October), but my finishing times were progressively slower.  This morning I weighed in at 235 pounds – still far off the 2013 highs, but about 15 pounds heavier than where I finished 2014.

So where does it go from here?  What kind of goals should I set for 2016?

I Won The Lottery! (But It's Not What You Think)

If life were truly ironic, then according to Alanis Morissette I should have died today.  Because yesterday, I won the lottery.

But before you starting writing letters asking me for a few bucks to help pay your rent or perhaps to get little Johnny the ten-speed he wants for Christmas, this ain’t that kind of lottery.  No, I didn’t win millions of dollars; I won something better.  I won entry into the 2016 NYC Half Marathon.

Set Yourself Up to Succeed

It was summer, 2014 and my marathon training runs had become a little sluggish.  I didn’t know why, but my splits were getting slower and my legs were feeling heavy.  Most days I was out running more than 5 miles of various hills, intervals, repeats, effort levels, and fartleks.  Maybe I was getting bored of it.  Maybe I was just tired.

I got to the trail for what I knew was going to be a disappointing run.  I didn’t feel like running 5 miles, knowing that the pace would be slower than I wanted.  I felt that despite all of the effort I was putting in, I just wasn’t improving.  So, I tried something different.

Screw the plan.  I needed to feel good about myself again.

There Is No "Try" When it Comes to Tight Pants

The 36’s are all useless.  They hang there, but they are no longer an option.  I remember when I bought my first pair, thinking if I kept up the pace that I would be buying 34’s someday soon.  But I seemed to settle in to the 36’s and that lasted quite a while.   Yet here I was, back in the store buying 38’s again… something I swore would never happen.

I am on a pretty severe downslope.  It’s no longer a short-term blip, but a long-term trend.  I have tried to restart the engine countless times but there is a pattern that is consistently emerging – I recognize the problem, I declare a reset, I start incorporating good habits again, and then... I fail.  In the beginning, the iterations of these resets were wide – a few months apart.  Once I got on the right track, I generally stayed on the right track.  But it’s been difficult lately and with winter here and no discernible schedule or routine, the iterations between resets became shorter and shorter, and it has become increasingly difficult for me to get back on track.

What do you do?  What can you do other than declare that today is the day you’re going to change?

The Marine Corps Marathon - Part II

Part II of the Marine Corps Marathon... Click here if you missed Part One.

It seemed ironic that I wrote this recent blogpost for RunHaven, because now I was living it in real life.  My entire morning was stressful and I was agitated.  The race plan I had carefully devised over the past few weeks had been blown to smithereens.  I looked down on my arm, where the night before I had written down the necessary pace times with a Sharpie to make sure I got where I needed to be before the bridge closed.  That was now useless.  Instead of sitting down and relaxing for an hour or so before the race, I had been standing and waiting at the security line.  The last few moments I spent sprinting across a parking lot and busting my butt to get to the starting line.

My cheat sheet

Yet now here I was... running a marathon.  There was nothing I could do about it now except smile.

Some quick math.  We crossed the starting line 20 minutes after we expected.  With my superior mathematical brain, I was able to deduce that since the bridge was at mile 20, that meant we would have to make up 1-minute every mile.  No, I did not have a calculator.  I'm just that smart.

Stefany and I ran together and I kept an eye on the watch.  My original calculations assumed a 12-minute pace for running and an 18-minute pace for walking, but now we needed to make up time.

I didn’t want either of us to bonk.  I was afraid that pushing the pace too much would cause exactly that, but I just let Stefany lead the way.  She generally ran 11:15 minute miles, and when she asked me how our pacing was, I would just say, “Good.”  If she dipped under 11 minutes I would pull her back a little, but for the most part I just let her think she was running 12-minute miles.

One thing I drastically underestimated was our walking pace.  Stefany lives in New York City and, as everyone knows, there is normal walking pace and there is New Yorker walking pace.  Stefany was pushing out our “walking” miles under a 16-minute pace and I knew if we could keep it up that we’d get across the bridge, even with the late start.

The rain fell lightly for an hour, but aside from weighing down my doubled-up socks it was pretty much a non-factor.  It wasn’t hot enough for the rain to have a cooling effect and it was more of a nuisance than anything.  We ran through the early stages of the race, up and down a few hills and through places like Georgetown, where people lined the streets and cheered.  The crowds were great all day and the marathon seemed very accessible to spectators, as I noticed the same people holding the same exact signs in multiple locations.

Then there was the “Blue Mile.”

For a mile of the race, people held American flags on either side of our path, giving it somewhat of a tunnel effect.  Many of the volunteers holding the flags called out our names and gave us high-fives as we passed.  But the more poignant moment was when we ran through placards set up on both sides of the road with photographs of fallen soldiers.  So many young lives lost.  Some of the pictures were military-photographs and some depicted scenes of the soldier with their families.  I’ve always thought that the act of running, and especially a longer-distance run, has a way of stirring up emotion within.  Combine that with the moving scene that unfolded step after step after step and it made for a very moving tribute that I won’t soon forget.

Of particular note the whole weekend was the presence of the US Marine Corps.  Marines handed out bibs at the expo, they worked security, marines answered questions and worked the water stations.  And marines cheered us on.  I remember one in particular ordering us in a drill-sergeant tone to keep our heads up – that we were “doing something great.”  I loved that.  I wish there was more of that.  I almost wanted to be yelled at by Sgt Hulka, Lou Gossett Jr, or R Lee Ermey.

Even with our escalated pace, my legs were feeling strong as we passed the half way point and into miles 15,16, and 17.  The bridge was getting closer and by now I was confident that it was an obstacle that we would easily overcome.  Though I knew we were still relatively in the back of the pack, that was becoming more and more evident as we continued on from this point.  With the security debacle at the beginning, the start was a mess for more than that reason alone.  As some of the thousands of runners trapped behind me at security eventually hit the start, they needed to pass through all of us slower runners, which made for a tremendous amount of weaving.  Some people blame the walkers for the weaving, but the fast runner behind you is sometimes just as annoying as the slow runner ahead of you.

During our running sets, we passed through a tremendous number of walkers – sometimes they were unknowingly lined up across the entire street making passing nearly impossible.  I had asked my running coach about walking etiquette – he told me to raise my hand when I transitioned from running to walking, and to get to the right side.  For the most part, that was what we did.  But this etiquette is either not widely known or widely ignored, and it was certainly an issue.

We continued on, cruising to the bridge without ever questioning whether or not we would actually make it or feeling as though we had to rush to get there in time.  Even with the rocky start, we made it.  Well… we made it this far.  There was still another 6.2 to go.

The sun came out as we ascended the bridge and by the time we went over it, it was actually blazing pretty strong.  As we wound down another 7-minute burst of running, we assessed the situation.  There were to be no straggler buses in our future.  Around the half-way point we had discussed our pace and possible finish times.  We were so far ahead, I actually thought 5:30 was attainable if we kept at it.  Stefany even suggested picking up the pace after we safely crossed the bridge.  But once we got there, it was a different story.

My legs were feeling pretty good and I felt as though my energy levels were strong, but as we walked over the bridge my mouth started to get that feeling like I was going to throw up – bile worked its way to my tastebuds.  Maybe it was the heat or the free jelly beans I ate.  All I wanted was water, but the next station wasn’t very close.  I had run 2 marathons before and throughout both of those and all the  training runs involved, I never once felt like I might throw up.  Even now, my body felt fine except for this horrible taste.  At the end of the walking set I popped my earbuds back in and began to trot when Stefany grabbed my arm and said, “Let’s just walk a little longer.”

“Ok,” I said, relieved that I wasn't going to lose the contents of my stomach.  So we decided to celebrate reaching the bridge in time by walking for what should have been a 7-minute running set.  It worked out well – my nausea fully abated and we were ready to go again as we went through Crystal City.  The pain in my legs began intensifying and I could sense that Stefany was beginning to have serious issues herself.  Her pace slowed markedly and her gait wasn’t as fluid as it had been.  When she started asking if we stop and walk before our 7-minute intervals were finished, I knew it was trouble.  We had less than 5 miles to go – and I was feeling some pain, but it was the strongest I had ever felt at this point in a marathon.  Of course, I was well off my normal overall pace, but in a way not being in as much pain allowed me to enjoy it more.

At mile 23 we passed our hotel.  I remember thinking that passing your hotel at this point might be a tempting opportunity for escape, but my head was in a good place and I knew we were going to finish.  The pain was there, and I remember thinking that I should try not to display it too much because I felt Stefany needed some motivation to get to the finish at this point, and if I commiserated with her agony, it might just lead us to walk the rest of the way.  Her undertrained legs were in pain – we tried to run a few times, but it was never for more than 3 or 4 minutes at a time.

"You go," she would plead.  "You run ahead and I'll meet you there."

A rare sight:  Someone accomplishing something at the nation's Capitol.

I couldn't leave her - God forbid she twisted an ankle or hit the wall even harder.  Who would pull her through the finish?  My PR was never an attainable goal today.  In many ways, the best reason for me to run this race was to watch her finish her first marathon.  And besides, this was the Marine Corps Marathon and I'd be damned if I was going to leave someone behind.  Semper Fi!

We pushed on.  Every now and then I would ask if she could run.  Sometimes she'd say yes, sometimes no.  But we kept moving forward.  At a certain point, my desire to run was heightened just so that we would get to the finish line already.  With a mile to go, 11 or 12 minutes of moving seemed a lot better than 19 or 20.  I started tasting the post-race beer.

Like a trooper, Stefany marched on.  I could see the pain in her face, but at this point I knew she could taste the finish.

"You're going to do it," I encouraged.  "You're going to finish your first marathon."

Before we knew it, we were at the base of the hill - the final few hundred yards of the race that is quite steep and lined with Marines cheering you on.  You would think that after 26.18 miles, the last thing you would want to see is a hill.  But with the finish line in sight and all of the encouragement from the supporters and the marines, it practically feels like a downhill.  The energy brought us back into a trot and we ran the final yards through the finish line.

At the end, a marine salutes you and places a medal around your neck before you make your way over to the Iwo Jima Memorial for a photo with your medal.  It's a pretty cool way to finish a race.

Despite clocking in at a somewhat disappointing 5:53:45, we did, in fact, finish.  For me, it was a wake up call that marathon training isn't a part-time thing I can approach nonchalantly.  For Stefany, it was her first taste of the marathon finish line, and I don't think it will be her last.  To most people, the marathon medal is nothing but a near-worthless trinket.  But when you earn it, it's special, and it has a way of making you want more.

Even with the inconvenient start, the experience this race offered was once-in-a-lifetime.  Sure, things could have gone smoother.  I know a lot of people who trained extremely hard with a goal to PR in this race, only to have to weave through throngs of slower runners due to the security delay and come up short.  That sucks.  I had no such goal, but I can understand the disappointment.

Stefany and I found the shuttle buses back to the hotel, but first found some friends out at the bar for a post-race celebration.  When you burn 4,000 calories it sort of gives you carte blanche for the rest of the day and we didn't waste it.  The whole day was an unforgettable experience, and even though we had such difficulty in the beginning, it's a race I wouldn't hesitate to do again.

Lastly, I just want to say congratulations, Stefany.  You are officially a marathoner.  Welcome to the club!

The Marine Corps Marathon - Part I

In an attempt to make this more readable, I am going to write my Marine Corps Marathon Recap in 2 Parts.  Here is Part One.

“How can there be traffic in Southern Jersey at midnight in late October?” I grumbled.  Predictably there was no answer to my question, as Stefany remained quietly sleeping in the passenger seat.  Rolling along at 5mph on the southbound Jersey Turnpike, I was taking the opportunity to go through my marathon setlist for some last minute tweaking. 

“How in the world did ‘Say Something I’m Giving Up on You’ get on here,” I rolled my eyes and wondered. Any song with "giving up" in it doesn't belong on a running mix.  Clearly I had some editing to do.

DELETE.

Think Big, Work Hard and Be Patient

“Think big, work hard, and be patient.”

I found myself giving my 6 year-old daughter this advice the other day.  I would love to tell you that I was setting her off on some noble quest for knowledge and self-worth, but the reality was that we were just playing Minecraft.  I was getting tired of watching her building half-finished houses and digging pointless tunnels, so we found the biggest mountain we could and spent an hour or so building a tower made of diamond-blocks atop of it.

I Quit... and then Unquit

I ordered the steak.  I can substitute a salad for the garlic mashed?  Why on Earth would I do that?  Another bottle of wine?  I think we will.  Dessert?  Yes, please.

Why should I care at this point, anyway?

These past few months have been a bit of a roller-coaster ride for me.  I lost focus on my training.  I can blame it on a lot of personal struggles – the laundry list of excuses are all there.  But that’s all they are is excuses.  Because running doesn’t care if you just went through a divorce.  Running doesn’t care if you’ve moved into a new home or if you’re adjusting to life as a single father.  Running only knows running – and if you’re not training properly for a big race such as a marathon, then running is going to get its revenge.

Getting Crushed in Lake Placid

I thought I had conquered this part already.  No, really… I did.  Just a little over a month ago I PR’d a half-marathon in Cheshire, CT.  Though I finished that race in pain, the fact that I had set my personal record made me feel as though I was in the best shape of my life.

A horrible training month of May followed – I was often side-tracked, sidelined by phantom gout and otherwise made a lot of excuses.  But how much fitness can one lose in a month of poor-training?  And mind you, it wasn’t no-training.  Just a helluva lot less than I’d been used to doing.

I tossed my daughter in the car and made the drive up to Lake Placid to stay with my friend Dave and his family.  Having a 6-year old in the car is nerve-wracking enough, mixing her constant need for entertainment with the omnipresent fear of her proclaiming she needs to use the bathroom (most likely just after we pass a rest stop.)  But we endured some traffic and made it there safely in about 4 hours or so with no bathroom breaks. 

The next morning we walked around town a bit and Samantha ran the Kids Race with Dave's kids Reagan and Cora.  The cuteness level was at all-time highs.

I'm Running 2 Marathons, Without a Shadow of Gout

Gout.

It has to be gout.  I have never had it officially diagnosed, but I know what it is.  Maybe I’m embarrassed to hear the official diagnosis.  Maybe I’m pissed that I have something commonly known as “rich man’s disease” without actually being rich.  Or maybe it’s just my penchant for not wanting to go to the doctor.  But the pain in my left big toe is familiar to me – I’ve had this before.

About six years ago I had a friend from out of town come to visit me.  We were walking around Boston and I began to feel an annoying pain in my toe.  Sitting down at a local bar for lunch amidst a group, the pain became excruciating.  It was so bad, that I had to excuse myself an go home.  I didn’t know what it was, but coincidentally I had just purchased new shoes, and so I blamed it on them and thought nothing more of it.

A year later, the pain returned.  This time it was unexplained, and I started googling things and came up with a self-diagnosis of “gout.”  It’s a build-up of uric acid in the blood stream that crystalizes and causes excruciating pain in joints – usually the big toe.  The word “excruciating” is certainly appropriate.  At night, even if the sheet rests on my foot the wrong way, the toe screams out in pain.  Sitting at my work desk with the distraction of a busy day, the pain is still omnipresent and will cause me at times to burst out in a random sweat.  And running?  Forget about it.  I am lucky I can make it from my car to my desk in the morning.

A Case of the Ordinary Mondays

I know it's Wednesday, but I started this article on a Monday and I'm just getting around to finishing it.  Actually, I started it last Monday... but who is counting?

In my mind, I have a vision of how the typical Monday should go.   I wake up a little on the earlier side and take my time getting ready for work – shower, get dressed, and head out.  I grab my large Dunkin’ iced coffee and nestle into my desk chair to begin the work week.  It shouldn’t be too hard.  Every weekend is a chance to reset; every Monday a chance to start anew.

Returning to the Scene of the Crime

I stood among people I had never met before.  Many of them held bottles of water, quite a few of them had band-aids protecting their nipples, and many had their genitals lathered with some type of moisturizing cream.  The music was pumping loud through large speakers, and the overall mood was upbeat and jovial.  No, I wasn’t at a midnight rave in an abandoned industrial warehouse.  I was at the start of the Cheshire Half Marathon.

Last year I stood in this exact same spot, completely clueless as to what the next two and a half hours held in store for me.  It was my first ever half marathon, and I finished in a rather slow 2:27:18, a pace of 11:13 per mile.  I didn’t know at the time it was going to be the beginning of a new obsession.  Lining up at this year’s race was much different – I now had two more half-marathons and two full marathons under my belt.  This is beginning to feel a bit old-hat.

It was an interesting drive to Cheshire, one much different than last year’s.  Last year I spent the hour in the car listening to Rage Against the Machine, talking myself into believing that I could somehow run 13.1 miles.  Now I’m a veteran and there are no such thoughts, and I save the Rage for the end of my running playlist – for when I really need motivation.

The Perfect Racing Shirt

I like free stuff.  I mean really, who doesn’t?  I especially like free stuff that I can use and use often.  When I run a big race, I go through that gift bag like a madman – tossing away the advertisements and seeing how much of the free stuff I can use, and what I should throw away.  Ooh, chapstick… that I can use.  Ugh, a $5 coupon off entry into the 2016 Jakarta 5k… hmm, not so much.

More often than not, the best item in the bag is the shirt.  Technically speaking, you probably shouldn't even consider the shirt to be free.   There’s a reason your race entry was so expensive and in part that’s because they use that money to buy the shirt.  A few days, weeks, months after you have paid for the race, you have likely forgotten how much it actually cost, but hey… free shirt!

Having only been involved in running races for a little over a year now, my collection of race shirts is fairly small.  But I feel like I have the general sense of what I look for in a shirt.  There is also an “expectations” factor involved.  For example, there is a weekly race in my local park that costs five bucks to run.  I’m not expecting a shirt.  But when I shell out nearly $300 for the NYC Marathon, I’m expecting a nice memento to commemorate this historic accomplishment.

Stop and Shop Angel Helps Me Re-Motivate

It’s 6:45 AM.  The store doesn’t open until 7, but I can’t afford to wait.

I dialed the number, it rang, but I wasn’t expecting anyone to pick up on the other end.  “Thank you for calling Stop and Shop,” the automated voice said, and I waited for the obligatory, “The store isn’t open yet you dummy, so call back later” message.

Instead the call was automatically transferred.  It rang again once, and the voice of an angel picked up.  “Customer service, this is Anna.”

The Most Unique Running Blog Ever

About a month ago I decided I would start a running blog.  Though I've written a few blogs in the past with varying levels of success, I hadn't done it in a while.  So, I didn't really know how it would turn out.  I've always enjoyed writing and my running had been experiencing a winter lull, and I hoped that this little side venture could keep me motivated.

So I started the Ordinary Marathoner blog.  Sort of a catchy name, don't you think?  In the future, I hope to develop Ordinary merchandise like Ordinary t-shirts, Ordinary hats, Ordinary boxers shorts, Ordinary mugs...

Let's Run Two (My Ernie Banks Tribute)

The odds of winning were way better than most lotteries I enter.  18% of the entrants would be drawn, versus the 1-in-200 million chance in PowerBall.  I was almost feeling confident, even though I knew the odds were still not in my favor.

At stake was entry into the New York City Marathon.  Not a free entry, mind you.  In this lottery, when you win you actually lose - roughly 300 bucks.  And you also get to torture yourself by running 26.2 miles.  So, you can see why I was so anxious.

Crushing PR's Doesn't Always Make Me Happy

You would think that if you PR'd in a 10k, crushing your previous year's performance by 10 minutes, improving your pace by over 90 seconds per mile, that you'd be happy, joyous, elated, ecstatic (I have a thesaurus... I can keep going.)  But I think I'm a slight grade lower than all of those adjectives... perhaps "content," is a better way to describe it.

Last year I ran the Holyoke Road Race to see if I could survive.  This year I ran it to crush last year.

The course is ridiculously hilly.  Somehow, it doesn't seem mathematically possible for a course that starts and finishes in roughly the same place to have five miles of uphills and only one mile of downhills.  But I assure you that not only is it possible, it exists in Holyoke.

Do Not Disturb: Runner In Training

My daughter Sam is five... though of course she would tell you that's not true.  "I'm five and a half," she would insist.  And for a little over a year, she's had front row seats to her dad's marathon training.

She's seen it all.  She's seen me with sore legs, barely able to walk.  She's seen shirts ruined from bloody nipples.  She's seen me have to lie on the floor writhing in pain, and she's even used the roller on my calves.

So of course there's only one question on her mind:

"Daddy, when can I run a race?"

I didn't really know if there was any age minimum to running  races, but since there had been snow on the ground at the time, and since her birthday was in the spring, I told her she could run one when she turned six.

Initially I figured I'd just take her down to a local 5k and do a run/walk, hoping the race coordinators wouldn't abandon the finish line before we made it back. We have a trail near us that is a near perfect 3.1 miles (down and back) so it made for a perfect training venue.  But the one time I brought her down there, she fizzled out rather quickly and spent the bulk of the time on daddy's shoulders.

Prepping For My Next Race Rocky-Style, Not Drago-Style

The 2014 Holyoke St. Patty's Day Road Race was the first 10k I had ever done.  Finishing that race on its own was an accomplishment for me at the time.  6.2 miles seemed like a daunting task that I wasn't sure I could overcome.

But I did it.  And as soon as I finished that race, I wanted to do another one.  And another.  Who knew that by the time I lined up for the race this year, I'd have two full marathons under my belt and be anxious to crush my 1:07 finish from last year.  Not to mention, I've dropped a few pounds since then and I think I'll be looking better in my finisher pics.

The Ups and Downs of Weight

There is no doubt about it.  Once you commit to running, you're going to have plenty of ups and downs.  Not beating my NYC Marathon time in the Ft. Lauderdale Marathon was definitely a down.  But after getting myself organized and getting down to 212 pounds, that put me back on an up.

Then, last week happened.  Ever since I wrote an article about how happy I was to get back to 212, my weight has gone back up.  I have been sticking to my workouts and, generally speaking, booking calorie deficits nearly every day.  But my weight has gone back up to 218 pounds.

I'm trying to explain this to myself, but I can't.  Now, yes... while I have maintained calorie deficits, I have been doing more than my fair share of eating.  I have been averaging between 2,500-3,000 calories per day.  In the past, one of the things that would catch up to me is drinking alcohol.  But I have really not being doing much of that at all.

Developing a Training Program

It's a long way till October, when I'm scheduled to run my next marathon - the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington DC.  Coming off of the Ft. Lauderdale Marathon this past Feb 15, I am now ready to make an attempt at devising a training schedule for the next few weeks.

October is still a long ways away, and I have some time in between that I'd like to use to further my preparedness.  With two marathons under my belt and my spring race schedule getting close to beginning now that February is behind us, I need to focus on what to do to get myself under 5 hours by October (and I hope significantly under 5 hours.)

After Ft. Lauderdale, I noted three things I needed to focus on:

First Half-Marathon... Check

I will be running both the Holyoke St. Patty's Day Road Race and the Cheshire Half-Marathon in 2015.  This is a repost of an article I wrote for another blog in late April, 2014.:

Mile ten was where things started to change.  My pace slowed noticeably.  “Previous mile… Eleven minutes, fifteen seconds,” the voice on my MapMyRun iPhone app said.  I felt as though I had been slowing, but this seemed a bit drastic.

The first nine had gone so smoothly.  I was clocking 10-minute miles (which had been my pace in a recent 5k) and I was shocked that I had been keeping it up for so long.  Mentally I felt great, and there were just four more miles to go.  But I could sense that my legs weren’t working as well as they had been, and the rolling hills were something new and a bit challenging.

“Running long distance is 80% mental and 20% physical,” a friend once told me.  This must be where the mental part came in.  That’s okay… I got this.

The Weight

Yesterday morning I woke up and, as per my daily ritual, stepped on the scale.  I took a deep breath and looked down expecting to see a good number, and there it was:  212.  Weight is all relative to how one looks at it in terms of their personal situation and goals.  On this day, 212 was a good number for me.

A little over a year ago, I had been pushing nearly 280 pounds before I made my lifestyle change.  On the morning of the NYC Marathon this past November, I was down to 212 pounds.  That was a very proud day for me, and afterwards I celebrated heartily.

And I celebrated the day after that, and the day after that.

The Wait

I really don’t know what I was thinking.  I am committed to running the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, DC on October 25^th.  So, why in the world would I put my name into the lottery for the NYC Marathon on November 1^st, just one week afterwards?

It was just an impulse, really.  How could I not?  This is my third time entering the race.  The first time I did it was in 2001, when I thought that entering would spur on some great training regimen that would keep me in shape forever.  I didn’t get in, and I stopped running altogether shortly thereafter.  That September 11^th, the world changed and many people decided not to fly into NY for the race.  The NYRR sent me an e-mail saying there were now available spots, only I hadn’t run more than 4 miles by then and probably put on 15-20 pounds.  So I didn’t run.

Last year I was able to gain entry through the American Cancer Society’s DetermiNation program and ran NYC, my first marathon.  It was an incredible experience and I just couldn’t resist the chance to do it once again.  After raising money for charity last year, I knew this year would be difficult.  The “fat guy gets skinny and runs a marathon” novelty has sorta worn off.  But… If I could run 2 marathons back-to-back.?.?  That would be something more challenging.  That would be something I could sell.  That would be something I could blog about.

Is it something I could realistically accomplish?  Well, that’s another story… but I’m willing to put the work in to find out.

Karma Suggests I Should Stop Right Now

Obstacles are nothing new.  All runners will certainly understand this.  I think of the mornings where I set the alarm early, only to forget to check the weather and be met with a thunderstorm when I'm half-way through a long run and miles from my car.

This is a fair representation of what happened to me this week, as the day after starting this blog my 4-year old laptop decided to stop working.  The keyboard locked up and no matter what buttons I pushed, nothing was registering.

I almost took it as a sign.  I have started a number of blogs in the past and they always seem to fizzle out.  Maybe this was just karma's way of saying, "Are you really trying this again?"

But I am trying it again.  And I wasn't going to let a little thing like a busted keyboard get in the way.  So I'm back with a new laptop and some renewed vigor.  And since I ingested well more than my fair share of calories this weekend and came up short on my Saturday run goals, perhaps it's time for a completely clean slate.  New energy, new focus, new plan.

So, time for some rest tonight... it all starts tomorrow.  No one will read this... but it made me feel good to write it 

The A1A Ft Lauderdale Marathon

The alarm rang at 4 AM, but I was awake long before that.  It didn't matter.  I had gone to bed at 7 PM anyway and had gotten plenty of sleep, even though I had largely just rolled around in the bed for the past hour.

I got up, showered, and went through my race routine.  I ate a banana and a Zone Bar.  I put Band-Aids on my nipples and put anti-chafing cream on the spots that needed it.  I started sipping on some Gatorade to top-off my hydration and make sure that I had my fill of electrolytes.  I put on my calf-compression sleeves, my running socks and tied my sneakers in a double-knot.  Before I knew it, I was in the car and headed to the starting line.

I had no idea how ready I was for this marathon.  Having just run NYC three months ago and spending a lot of time in the gym since, I thought I could only improve.  The problem was that the weather in New England had just been horrendous the past few months.  I have a very low tolerance for running in the cold (otherwise known as "being a wimp.")  Most of the time, I just opt for the treadmill instead, where I tend to top out around the 10-mile mark.  I don't know if it's boredom, exhaustion, or a mixture of both, but the truth of the matter was the longest run I had done since NYC was 10 miles.

"You are terribly unprepared," my marathon coach advised me.  "You'll probably finish, but targeting a pace in this race is not a good idea.  Just try to survive."