Lucky Seven, A Boston Qualifier and a PR

It may not look like it, but you are looking at a very happy man to the left. After years of attempts at trying to qualify for the Boston Marathon, I FINALLY DID IT!! It took seven marathons. Lucky 7 as it turns out. That and a fast course like Chicago with temperatures that were nearly perfect. When I nearly missed in Philadelphia in 2007 I remember thinking that the stars had aligned that day. I was at peak physical fitness and the weather completely cooperated. My biggest fear leaving the City of Brotherly Love that day was that I might never have the stars align for me again quite like they did that day. But align they did. With a starting line temperature of 29 degrees, it might have been just a tiny bit too cold, but I'm a cold weather runner. Whether I like to admit that or not it is true. And so for one fateful morning in the midwest along the streets of the Windy City, the stars once again aligned for me.


Setting a blistering pace from the get-go (6:10 first mile), I felt pretty good despite going out too fast and knowing that's not how to run a marathon. Still, as the miles clicked by and I kept having sub-BQ paces mile after fateful mile, I sensed that this might be the day. When I crossed the halfway point in 1:32 and some change I quickly determined that it would take a monumental collapse to lose my first ever BQ. I needed a 3:20 to qualify for the 2011 Boston Marathon (since I will be 4o that day). I could have qualified in my current age group with a 3:15 but qualifying has always been the goal. Some might think it's "backing in", but Boston sets the standards. I simply follow them. Anyone who feels as though that's "backing in" should go run a marathon and see for themselves that it's simply not true.


As the BQ miles continued through the first 21 miles I was feeling pretty good. My legs did get weary and just past mile 23 I felt sluggish to the point of stopping. I did stop and walk for a short time (about 25 seconds). During that fateful 25 seconds I spoke to myself. I asked myself why I was walking. I asked myself if I was blowing it. I determined that I was so close in Philadelphia and all I could think was, "don't let that happen again". I remarked outloud (to myself, although I'm sure others heard me), "You either want this or you don't. Make your decision and get moving." So I did. I started to jog again. I figured at a minimum I just needed to keep moving forward. I was watching the sands flow through the hourglass before my eyes and I decided that today was going to be the day. There were too many people following my progress. Too many people to disappoint. And yet, I only cared about one person. Me. I did not want to have to live with myself if I let this slip away.


With one mile to go I looked at the watch and saw that I had just under 12:00 to get it in. I can walk a 12:00 mile. I knew I had it. I tried to enjoy that final mile, soaking in the crowd and the moment I was about to experience. For a brief moment I completely enjoyed knowing what I accomplished. So many things ran through my head. One thing I could not forget was the pain and suffering and mental anguish I experienced last year when I broke my foot. The uncertainty of whether running this far again was even going to be remotely possible. And here I was, just under a year later, not only running the distance pain free but qualifying for the Boston Marathon. In the days leading up to this race I remarked often that so few people ever get this close to a dream. I was living it and appreciating it. I worked hard. I suffered and deprived myself all summer and it paid off on October 11, 2009. Chicago, Illinois will forever live in my heart as the place I reached out and grabbed a dream. I will definitely go back someday.


My mind quickly shifted to my next race. When will it be. I'm certainly not waiting for April 18, 2011 (my Boston Marathon). So yesterday I officially signed up for the Pittsburgh Marathon. The disappointment I endured not being able to run it this past May needs to be put to rest. I will run Pittsburgh with a relaxed mindset that I don't know that I've felt since my first marathon in Cleveland. I don't have the pressure of having to qualify for Boston. I'm sure I'll set a time goal, but it won't be a BQ pace. And yet, I feel as though I can do it again. I feel as though a 3:00 marathon is a possibility.


Upon returning from Chicago I took no time off. I have not missed a run in months. I have maintained the speed I had and took to Chicago with me. Faster in a lot of ways. Today I ran the Red Cross Vampire 5k and the benefits of my marathon training and fitness level paid off big time. Today I set a 5k PR by 39 seconds. It was my first sub-19:00 run as I crossed the finish line in 18:51. Once again I can only think that my running can still improve. I believe I can and will get faster. My body continues to adjust and improve and become more efficient. I am amazed at how far I have progressed in a year.



Below is a short photo journal of my trip to Chicago:

A Date With Destiny?

Tomorrow morning is the Chicago Marathon. I have trained hard all summer. I have not had a drop of alcohol since June 20. I have suffered. But has it been enough? I will begin to find out in about 8 1/2 hours when the race begins in Grant Park in downtown Chicago, Illinois.

I am quietly confident, but one never knows what is in store for you across 26 miles. I pray I've done enough. I pray that my body cooperates and I pray that the dreaded wall never appears.

Update to come with photos in about 15 hours.

Good night Chicago....

Perfection

I'm a perfectionist. Always have been and most likely always will be. That's why it's so difficult for me to learn that I'm not perfect in so many ways. Running will teach you over and over again that you can always improve in a variety of ways. Just like life. Sometimes it throws you a curveball and you can't seem to make contact. The mental struggle continues.

25 more days...

Ready for the Truth

One of my favorite motivational quotes of all time I found on a blog somewhere else on the internet. It said, "20 miles of hope, 6 miles of truth". Today I ran 20 miles. I awoke at 5:58 a.m. and did what I normally do now that I've got an iPhone. I checked my email, looked at Facebook to see what friends are up to and then rolled off the side of the bed into the darkness of the morning.

I put my contacts in and headed down the stairs to the basement where I got myself ready for what I knew would be a very long run. It's the run that I normally dread. But this one I looked forward to all week. I wanted to run this 20-miler as if I was trying to qualify for Boston today. Why? I wanted to see where I stood on the brink of heading to Chicago. In just over 34 more days I'd be doing it for real. Each rung on the ladder of climbing this summer has been another hurdle cleared on my way back from one of the most awful injuries I'd ever sustained. Today was another hurdle. Another opportunity to do what I think most would say is not possible. Not after running just 2 1/4 miles in January and February. Not when in June and early July I was still struggling with some residual foot pain that cropped up from time to time and forced me to take days off from my schedule.

But I've never been one to submit to that which people say cannot be done. No; I'm motivated by that. I enjoy looking back on an accomplishment and saying, 'wow, I can't believe I just did that'. And so this morning I stepped outside into the foggy morning mist of a beautiful Labor Day Sunday and headed off on my path to self-discovery once again.

When I climbed the hill into Westmont and closed in on mile 3 and my legs began to get heavy I questioned whether or not it was wise to run this thing quickly. After all, the long slow run is to be done slowly. The purpose is not to qualify for Boston today. Yet, I somehow didn't listen to my body and looked at it as an opportunity. When I hit mile 6 and regretted having Mexican food at Don Pablo's yesterday on the way to the Pitt game I could have easily listened to my gut and my instinct that said, 'do 10 and then do the other 10 later this evening'. I thought about it, but only for a second.

As I hit my house and finished the first 'lap' of 10 miles, the fog had only begun to dissipate in patches. I grabbed my gel and drink and decided that the split run was not happening today. When the gel kicked in and I got a short burst of energy a few miles later I knew I had made the right decision. When I hit mile 15 and Becky was there waiting with my final gel and water for the day I knew it would be a tough 5 miles, but I looked at it as an opportunity to test my limits and push myself. After all, it WILL be required in 5 weeks on the streets of Chicago. There is no doubt that it WILL be needed. "Don't cave to your instincts" I kept repeating in my head. "This is part of the process. This will carry you when you're there. You'll remember this run."

When I hit mile 18 and knew that each step beyond it was the furthest I had run since the Johnstown Marathon last October I gained a growing sense of purpose. I pushed on. I knew that 1 3/4 of the final 2 miles would be mostly flat and downhill. Peering at my watch I knew I was having a good run; timewise. I knew I was struggling. And when I hit mile 19 and kept repeating that my legs "felt like 20 pounds of ground hamburger meat hanging from my hips" I knew I was growing. This is what the marathon is all about. I didn't have anybody pushing me today. I didn't have crowds lining the streets for each and every step. I only had me. And that's who is largely responsible come race day. Those other things help and surely they will. But not today.

Crossing my finish line behind my garage I clicked the stopwatch. 2:36:14. On race day I'll need to be at 2:32:40. But all things considered, today was a good day. My legs are still heavy but I've had worse. My body is cooperating. Even though I hesitate to say it, I feel I'm ready right now. I've got 5 weeks to go and I'll use each day to fine tune where I'm at. But the hard stuff is almost over. One more very long run next weekend that is yet to be determined distance-wise. I've got my 20-miler in. If I don't want to, I don't need to do another. There is comfort in that but I'll probably still do another. But it won't be fast. I'll save that one for race day.

I hope that the weather cooperates and I hope that today goes a long way toward getting me to that finish line in under 3:20. In 35 days, I'll be ready for the truth...

Community Disappointment

Today I ran the Rockwood Rotary Half Marathon. I finished the 13.1 mile course along the Allegheny Trail in 1:38:51. Missed a PR by 1:05; run on this very same course a year ago. Might have been the humidity or the fact that I ran the first six miles far too fast. I didn't leave enough in the tank. Even though I finished with a decent time, I was still disappointed. Not so much in the finish time. Well, that's not entirely true. I'm always disappointed in my finish time. No, this disappointment was more in the running community. The running community is one which I have come to know as one of the best. Runners traditionally are the nicest people you can come across. A quick trip to the message boards on runnersworld.com or a discussion with a running mate at a marathon or local race and you'd see what I see. Unlike other sports, where competition is fierce, the running community is one of encouragement and support and camraderie. It took me awhile to get used to it. A lifelong sports addict, I would rather lose a limb than lose a game. But I have come to appreciate the community of runners. It is something I enjoy.

Not today. Finishing fourth overall in the race, I milled around the refreshment area with the top three finishers who, along with two Rotary Club members that weren't really close enough to be involved in any conversation, made up the finish line area for about 6-10 minutes (roughly the time others started to trickle in). While the three 'friends' chatted I attempted to ingratiate myself into the conversation. First by telling each "good race". A "cold" congratulatory handshake was my first indication that I wasn't accepted in this threesome. Then, when I overheard two of them talking about the 3rd place guy running a marathon in six weeks, I thought, "me too" and decided to ask him "where is your marathon?" A simple answer of "Columbus" followed by my reply of "oh, I'll be running Chicago the same day". Then nothing. Not an acknowledgement. Not an "oh, I've always wanted to run that one" or "I did that one two years ago". Nothing.

Feeling as if I was involving myself in a conversation I wasn't accepted into I asked the overall winner, who was sitting on the same bench as me, "what was your winning time?", curious as to where my time rated. A somewhat disgusted, "ehh, like 1:32 something like that" and then he turned to tell the other two gents "I wanted to run a 1:29. Then the three of them began speaking again.

Feeling as though I was somehow "subpar" or not worthy to be in the company of these three running gods I decided, 'to hell with you' and grabbed two pieces of watermelon and walked back to my car. Disappointed in the running community. I guess once in six years isn't so bad.

One Very Long Weekend

Decided to do all of the outstanding work I've been putting off all summer long this weekend. Sandwiched around back to back races yesterday and today.

For the third time since I started doing races, I ran a race on back to back days. I hadn't done it in over two years but this weekend I pulled off the double. Ran the Somerset Cross Country 5k (on their actual cross country course) which was very tough. Then did the Run for the Trail 7k this evening in 84 degree heat and humidity.

In and of itself that's not all that bad, but considering that I came home Friday from work, cut my grass and cleaned out my garage, then prepared my driveway for sealing.

Woke up yesterday morning, ran that race and then came home to begin staining the deck. Then midway I sealed my driveway. All told, I worked over 8 hours yesterday and then got up this morning for about 2 more hours of staining.

Got all the work done and ran two 'fairly' successful races, all things considered. Yesterday's 5k time was 20:48 on a very tough track and despite losing almost a minute and a half off of lastyear's time in the trail 7k, dropping from 27:48 to tonight's 29:15, I blame it on the hectic schedule and the heat and humidity (84 degrees at race time). That, and I had nobody pushing me from behind. I ran fairly hard and took 2nd in my age group. Pretty successful but long weekend.

Climbing the Horrible Mountain

Heat. Humidity. Two enemies of the runner. Today I awoke to only one of them and unfortunately it was the worse of the pair; humidity. Today was the day I needed to run 16 miles. After doing a 5k yesterday (19:46), and finishing with my second fastest 5k time of all time, it was as if the planets aligned in the wrong order for me today.

Couple that with awaking at 2:00 a.m. with vicious stomach pain and today was not fun. A little Pepto-Bismol put my stomach issues at bay temporarily last night, but made for horrible sleeping. When the alarm went off at 7:00 a.m. I struggled to the basement, tried to hydrate as much as I could and was off. Within the first mile I could feel the weight of the humidity that would haunt me for a couple of hours.

The first 8 miles went by fairly decent, but when I looped back by the house for a drink and stopped briefly to ingest some Gatorade and water, the first few steps into the second half gave me every indication that it would be a second half struggle. My stomach felt "pukey" again and I took about 1/2 bottle of warm water with me that was gone by the time I hit mile 9 1/2. Eight laps around the track and approaching mile 12 on Luzerne Street I knew I would struggle over the final four awful miles. I equated it to the feelings I had over the final 4 miles in Cincinnati, or the final 11 miles in Frederick. Awful.

But when all was said and done, a cold shower and some water and a small meal and I felt better. But now my stomach continues to give me issues. Price to pay for it I guess.

Still, I've taken the next step to getting back to the mountain top. Today gives me one real strong thought. Please let it be low humidity nine weeks from today in Chicago. Low temperatures would be a bonus, but I'll take the low humidity. If it's anything close to today, forget Boston. It will be another exercise in survival and simply getting it done. Like today.

Ten-4-teen

Fourteen miles. That's what I did today. In the heat and at a very productive pace of 8:14/mile. Right in the wheelhouse of where I need to be running my long slow weekly runs. The fact that I felt pretty good afterward; enough so that I was not only able to cut my grass but also wash and clean my car inside and out was very telling for me.

As I came down the homestretch of my final mile today, and passed what would have been the half-marathon distance I became very emotional. I knew that I had just passed into my longest run in nearly ten months. Ten months. It was the furthest I had run since completing the Johnstown Marathon. It made me aware that I'm on pace. I'm in the park. I'm zoned in for what I hope will be a most memorable event in just over two months.

I was able to visualize over the final half-mile what it might be like coming home for the finish and I couldn't help but visualize having plenty of time to spare for a Boston qualifying run. It felt good. I crossed another barrier in my bid to comeback to where I was in 2007. I am happy how I felt today, but realize that I've got a very tough two months ahead. I am ready for that challenge and feel that I am not only running smart, but efficiently. At least that's the way it felt today. I focused on maintaining an efficient stride and getting in a productive run. Despite running at nearly 35 seconds slower than my goal marathon pace, it is very difficult to do. Holding back for the sake of efficiency and with an eye on a greater good yet to come.

Another barrier hurdled today. Today was a good day.

Still Here and Still Runnin'

I didn't go back and look to confirm this, but since I started this blog over two years ago I believe this is the longest I've gone without a post. Summer is definitely a time when I do slack a bit on putting updates on here. I'm not sure why that is, but possibly because there is so much more outdoor activity available and I find that I'm not in front of the computer as much. Who knows for sure?

For those that follow along with this blog (and I have no idea how many regular readers I have), I probably should do better. I will.

For the most up to date of updates, today I did a 12-miler. Besides the "jogged" half-marathon in Pittsburgh today was another banner day for me. It's getting over one more hurdle. My feet and legs are sore from time to time and I still deal with some minor pain but nothing out of the ordinary and nothing to be concerned with at the moment. In fact, my racing has been going very well and my training overall has been going well. I decided to give up alcohol upon returning from the beach (5 weeks ago today), until the marathon. I am happy to report that despite playing in some golf outings, going to several graduation parties and last night going to a wedding, I have kept my hands off of the stuff. I am feeling stronger running. Correlation? Not sure, but mentally it's helping me. I cannot wait, however, for a beer after the Chicago Marathon. I might not even make it back to the hotel before downing one.

I've got several races planned in the coming weeks and next weekend I go out for a 14-miler. I'm ahead of schedule from where I thought I would be, and that's a big plus.

Thanks for reading...

Getting My 30 Seconds...

At the end of July it would have been twelve years since I last saw the Stanley Cup in person. But I never made it to that twelve year anniversary. The Cup came to my neighborhood tonight. Pittsburgh Penguins Equipment Manager Dana Heinze got his day with the Cup and decided to share it with the neighborhood. As a runner, my "hood" is typically larger than most people think. Still, the Heinze's live about 1 1/4 miles away and when I heard that the Cup was that close I couldn't resist. So I drove up the street after I finished installing my exterior lighting and was lucky enough to have someone snap the shot you see here. In 1997 I went to Toronto a few months before I married Becky on sort of a "honeymoon" before the wedding. In reality, we went to London, Ontario for a hockey camp and on the way home decided to detour to Toronto. It was well worth the trip to be able to visit the Hockey Hall of Fame and to get our picture taken with the Stanley Cup. This time, however, it just felt different. Being that close to home with an employee of the team I live and die for and the fact that they won it less than a month ago made this experience all the more worth it. In a way, it kind of puts closure on the season for me. I had been in a state of withdrawal since the season ended on June 12, but now I feel complete. Team employees, players and executives each get a day with the Cup. As a die-hard fan, I got my 30 seconds with the Cup. I am thankful to Dana for sharing it with the neighborhood, just as he did several years ago when he won a Cup with the Tampa Bay Lightning. I didn't get to see it then. I really wasn't sure I wanted to see it then. But this time it was a no-brainer. The chalice that travels the world was literally right in my backyard. What a season and what a feeling. My only regret? When I went up there, I had every intention of kissing the holy grail. But because I was only able to get one shot and the line moving along so quickly, I forgot. Oh, well. There's always next year...