Training Journal – A Bridge Too High? November 4, 2012 Sunday AM
The preliminaries go like this. We park in Newport and take shuttles across the bridge to the starting line in Jamestown. So, it’s going to be cold and windy for sure (could be really cold and really windy). Anyway, we want to wear warm clothes right up until we start (but of course need to shed them at the start). But there’s no place to leave and retrieve later on. So all leftover clothes are donated to the Salvation Army. I plan to buy some from the Salvation Army this week and then just leave them. Oh well.
The race is only four miles. But it starts with a long steep uphill run followed by a long steep downhill run. I usually like to run hills, but this one is too long. For the record I think running downhill is even worse than uphill.
I’ve been road racing since the 70s, and I’m a back-of-the-pack guy. I’d rather be passing people close to the finish then the other way around. The last 25% of the course I usually pick up the pace (if I’ve planned correctly) and start knocking off runners who have miscalculated or are simply slower (there aren’t many of these).
However, I’m in the 65 to 69 year-old category (I’m 67). I wonder how many others will be in my class (not that I expect to win or anything like that). And I’ve always feared coming in last, although this is totally unfounded.
I approach road racing as mostly cooperation rather than competition. The emotions and efforts of the other runners inspire me to do better. They, in effect pull me along. Sometimes a runner will pass me and I’ll pick it up and stay with him/her for a while.
Competition can come into play also. I see runners up front who appear vulnerable and I target them. If I’m right, I’ll zip (zip is relative) by them and then look for others. I like to do this near the end and on a uphill if possible. Of course, at the same time there are other runners flying by me.
My training times are alarmingly slow these days. I checked this out on a quarter mile track the other day, and when I picked up the pace to my former speed, I almost passed out.
I don’t race much anymore, but I run regularly. I have to, running is my passion. I’m simply drawn to it, and I must be outside no matter the season. Treadmills are dreadmills and that’s that.
Both knees have moderate to severe arthritis. So this is a bit of a flaw in the process. Injections of natural fluid have helped enormously. My orthopod guy was ecstatic, and he thinks I’m a “poster boy” for this low-probability treatment.
Bottom line: I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I’m careful and seek out trails and avoid shocking pavement as much as possible. I’m blessed to live a paradise called Newport, RI where Cliff Walk, the beaches and Sachuest Point are my salvation.
These days the natural highs are higher than ever. And that’s where I want to be.
____________________________________________________________________________
Training Journal – A Bridge Too High? November 4, 2012, Sunday PM
Running around Newport National Golf Course on the beautiful trail preserved in perpetuity by the Aquidneck Land Trust.
The trail is a picturesque combination of imaginative professional landscaping on the golfers’ side and wild woods, thorns and shrubs on the outside rim. and you can get glimpses of Second Beach, Sachuest Point and the Atlantic Ocean off in the distance.
Nice soft trail around the course, great view from on top of the island, and I can see out to 2nd Beach, Sachuest Point and the Atlantic Ocean.
Sunshine reflecting off the autumn colors…illumination! Also, inspiration. Running between golfers and cow pastures a few horses too, but lots of woods to provide cover and color. Running past my old golf ball hunting sites with their forbidding thorns and various poison this and that.
Off the course now, and running through an open field. Narrow trail with lots of obstacles…roots, rocks, etc. I love cross country running like this, but gotta pay attention. I stubbed my toe on a root and crashed a few weeks ago. Jumping and dancing around the obstacles…pure play.
Now onto a nice flexible boardwalk that takes me over wetlands to farmlands. Stop watch says turn around. Turning on the iPod and head back to the golf course. “Music take me home.” Chuck Berry starts me back. Breathing pretty heavy, legs Okay. Enough!
I Stop short of the end to help a guy look for his ball and then walk into Christine’s childhood playground. Checking out the placid pond where I spread some of her ashes 5 years ago. Then a final stop at a favorite lost ball grove of trees and thorns. Gotta get something. Slim pickings. I see some deep inside, but will have to pay a price. Got a few wounds and four balls.
So, that was my long one. Not much more training time left before the race. Probably do one day (say Tuesday) of repetitive hills and one day of speed (if you can call it that) at the track. That’s about it, unless I do an easy beach run for fun.
Looking ahead to the weather and it looks good (relative to November in New England at 6:30 AM). But forecasts are so unreliable. Thursday looks like lots of rain and high wind. So that could mess me up. But I learned a long time ago that you gotta run around the weather–unless a big hurricane or lightening. Oh, I did run in a hailstorm once (surprised) and did 10 miles on the Charles River in a snowstorm (just lovely) when training for Boston.But that’s another story.
_________________________________________________________
Training Journal – A Bridge Too High? November 6, 2012, Tuesday
Hill day. Running up-hill from 1st Beach toward the beginning of Cliff walk and the Chanler resort. I keep running up hill, and near the top I cut over and then back down Cliff Avenue to Cliff Walk.
Gotta keep at the hills. Gotta love the hills. This is nowhere near what the bridge will offer. I experiment with different strides to see how they feel, how efficient they are.
My breathing is pretty heavy and calves are hurting. Lactic acid pouring into those muscles, I guess.
Need the iPod today. Going for mental toughness. Dance a little, sidestep along the hard sidewalk.I think my new method of landing on forefoot is better on hills because I’m pushing off without letting my heal go all the way down.
Turning down on Cliff Avenue and experimenting with technique…using a kind of shock absorption stride. Not letting the shock waves bang their way up my legs. Damn downhills!
Joining Cliff walk…invigorating. There’s the ocean, turning left toward the beach and back toward the Chanler.
I know that from my description, you have no idea what I’m doing except going up and down which is the idea. Anyway, I did 5 loops and ran a little more than 30 minutes. Not much, but helpful.
Walking up to the Chanler at the end and seeing Conor (my son) working on the roof.
We reflected on the passion and stress of the last Notre Dame game. And looked ahead to playing the hated Boston College team.
Why didn’t I run the Green End hill? It’s the steepest. I forgot. Maybe Thursday. Maybe too late. Yes, too late.
There’s a storm coming tomorrow with high winds. Sunday is still looking good (which could be a bad sign).
Training Journal – A Bridge Too High? November 7, 2012, Wednesday
Day off. Big N’oreaster going through with high winds. The weather guys are assuring me of a decent Sunday morning, better be.
I checked the race web site, and there are more than 4,000 runners signed up. Downtown Newport’s going to see more people than ever on a Sunday at 5 AM (except maybe on a crazy St Patrick’s day weekend).
The logistics should be interesting with a series of shuttles shuttling runners over to Jamestown starting at 5AM.
Who in hell wants to freeze for more than an hour waiting for the start. Anyway, I’m hoping my girl friend will drive me over and let me sit in her car…if this is permitted. Then she can drive back to Newport since half the bridge will still be open…but what about traffic?
The whole thing sounds a bit surreal. When does the sun rise? I gotta check.
So, tomorrow at the Marriott I pick up my shirt, and bib (embedded with a special chip to track my progress, and who knows what else).
Effective training is pretty much over for me at this late date. I may do some speed runs and a short fun run.
I gotta load my iPod with some super-psyche songs…like Junior Walker, Steve Miller, Jefferson Airplane/Starship, Eagles, Wild Cherry, Hot Chocolate and one of my favorite running motivators…”Dancin in the Streets.” I’m probably showing my age here, but these are “meditation in motion” for me.
Still wondering about the pack. Who are they? Some people run these races with no training, but, hey it’s only a 4-miler. When I look at some people, I can’t imagine them in a race, and then they blow me away. While some skinny types flounder. Can’t tell by looks. Unless of course they happen to be Kenyan or Ethiopian. Then it doesn’t matter. Every single one of them can blow you away no matter how old or even if they’re not wearing shoes.
Speaking of shoes, ever since I read “Born to Run,” I’ve been a advocate of soft shoes and forefoot striking. Hurts my metatarsal like hell, but my knees are fine.
Fancy high-tech shoes are a scam.
________________________________________________________________________
Training Journal – A Bridge Too High? November 10, 2012, Saturday
Came down with a cold last night. Don’t know if it was over training or what, but I was not pleased. Over training is bad news and sometimes leads to the “Dark Night of the Soul.” I don’t want to go there.
Long sleep last night and just lying around this AM trying to get a good attitude and hoping I’m not screwed up for tomorrow AM and the Bridge Run.
Anyway, I decided to go for a run. I was planning to do some speed work at the track, but they were having some kind of practice..soccer, football, whatever.
I drove to Sachuest Point and it’s closed because of that blowout hurricane.
So I decided to check out the berm around the reservoir between Hanging Rock and 2nd Beach. It was really cool…up high and a soft trail. The berm doesn’t go all the way around so I had to walk the rocky shoreline. It was a fairly short walk, and then the berm started again.
It was beautiful…glistening sun shining all over, honking ducks and a different minimalist view without a lot of forest. But my field of vision was broad. It felt freeing.
I picked up the pace and finished the loop. Short but so sweet.
Now I have a new place to run. Two or three loops would be nice.
Okay, so then I felt stronger and more confident about tomorrow.
As I mentioned before, The logistics are going to be weird with over 4,000 runners going over to Jamestown to start. They have shuttles for us starting at 4:45 (are you kidding?).
We’ll freeze standing at the starting line for so long. So we’ll have to wear some warm clothes and shed them when the gun goes off.
Anyway, Diane and I went to the Salvation Army thrift shop, and I bought sweatpants and a sweatshirt (emblazoned with “Maine”). So, I’ll wear these clothes over my running outfit and throw the sweats in a pile for donation to charity (back to the Salvation Army, no doubt).
Trying to relax tonight. I’ll probably set the alarm for 5 AM. I hate alarms and never use them.
Wish me luck!
___________________________________________________________________
Training Journal – A Bridge Too High? November 11, 2012
D-Day!
Jamestown toll booth: 5:45 A.M. It’s dark here, but there’s a glimmer of brightness in the east…kind of eerie.
All I see is a few volunteers telling us where to go.
Walking behind the bridge administration building to the staging area… all of a sudden, there’s a seething mass of humanity… thousands of runners mingling, stretching, running and dancing to music.
It’s cold, but not bad. My Salvation Army sweats are working fine.
Walking around, and seeing several friends including a former student at Salve. Everyone getting psyched. A large bunch of people are wearing shirts that say “Joe would Go” in honor of Joe Caruso, a beloved Newport runner who recently passed away.
The sky slowly brightens. A tiny crescent moon peeks through the clouds.
Show time! Tossing my Salvation sweats in a pile of discarded clothes. We line up according to expected pace. I hop in between 10 and 12 minutes. Everybody’s bouncing and laughing. The sky brightens and the clouds are slowly receding.
They play the National Anthem, gun fires and we’re off.
The long line of runners snakes around and up the ramp and soon we’re on the bridge. The first section is the long hill.
Remember: short race, fast pace.
I’m keeping a fast pace. Just because it’s a hill, you can’t slack. And a 4-miler is so short that you really have to go flat out all the way. Of course “fast pace” and “flat out” are relative terms in my running world.
Huffing and puffing; stressing and straining. My iPod is cranked up, and I’m listening to “Dancin in the Streets.”
Jockeying for position, trying to find a good pace in the face of the awesome hill and the enormous bridge stanchions looming way up there.
Gotta keep a good pace on this hill or I’ll be too far behind. Trying different techniques…pushing off my forefront after landing, visualizing a smooth strong stride and trying to imprint my brain.
Now the fun part. I’m moving in and out and between runners. Gaining on most, and being passed by others. Feeling the pain, but flying with joy.
Lifting sun…a large orange orb. Magnificent. Looking down at the boats and out to the ocean. The higher I go, the more ocean.
Surrounded by a fascinating mix of body types, ages and outfits. Hard to tell who’s in better shape as I focus on some targets to catch. At the same time runners catch me and I stay with them for a while and then let them go (no choice)…they helped me. Racing is cooperative and competitive.
The summit still seems impossibly far. Now the clouds are almost gone…basking in the rising sun.
Legs really hurting now. Icepicks in my quads. Straining. Quads not usually a problem…it’s the hill.
I’m on top of the world now. Such a temptation to slow down and regroup. Can’t do it. In fact, I gotta pick it up. Experimenting with downhill strides…minimize the shock-waves assaulting my leg muscles. Take advantage of gravity. Lungs aching…running through a sea of lactic acid.
Visualize the stride.
People are stopping and taking pictures with their cell phones. The newspaper reported that a couple actually got engaged at the summit.
Catching up with a friend. She’s running and talking with her girlfriend and she seems relaxed. I bump her and we share a laugh and some encouraging words. I pull ahead…but she’s cruising and soon catches up and passes me. She’s gotta be under forty, so that’s OK. Soon she’s out-of-sight.
Oh no! Left shoe feels a little loose. What a nightmare if it comes untied…always one of my fears– stopping and retying. I try to ignore it…turns out OK.
Wondering about my time. Getting weaker, but keep the pace. Music essential.
Street is flattening and the off ramp is coming up. Running down the off ramp. Off the bridge and picking up speed now. This is when I’ve got to go for it. Passing more people and blocking out the pain.
Looks like my old girlfriend ahead. Long blond hair and body type just like her. Gotta find out. She’s pretty competitive, so if I catch her we’ll probably race to the end. She’s about fifty feet ahead.
Picking up even more to catch her, but she’s doing the same. I finally catch up and it’s not her, but she helped me anyway.
Running down America’s Cup Avenue. There’s the finish, people all over, cheering us to the line.
I cross the finish and stagger along the chute to water and orange slices.
Pretty good, I guess. I finished 9th out of 25 in my age group (65 to 69) and almost in the top half overall, 1,207 out of 2218. Didn’t meet my goal of sub-ten minute pace, however. But I’ll blame it on the hill.
Two weeks to the Pie Run on Thanksgiving morning.
Life, Liberty & the Pursuit of Happiness 
Recent Comments