Archive for ‘10k’

All I wanted was RnR & got this 10K

Over the weekend I participated in the Rock n Roll New York 10k in Prospect Park in Brooklyn, the “Coolest city in the Country”. Now, my only previous experience with Rock n Roll races was the San Diego Marathon a couple of years ago as part of a relay team and that was kind of a nightmare, so I was interested to see how things went in my own back yard. This race was thrown into my schedule just to keep me racing and running under competitive conditions and because we couldn’t find a half-marathon reasonably close that fit my coaching and training schedule. Heading into it, my training with the White She-Devil was progressing quite nicely, the torture was consistent insane and, as I’ve mentioned before, I just did what I was told, but did have a little bit of a hitch in my giddy up thanks to some tightness in my right leg – a little in the hamstring and a little in the calf. Regardless, I went into Prospect Park with the intention of racing the race and seeing where I was physically.

To be honest, for the 36-hours prior to the race I really had no desire to go and race at all. I just wasn’t feeling it at all. It all started with packet pick-up on Friday night. I got there with my info in hand and had to stand in this crazy, long line at Super Runners Shop in midtown waiting to NOT get my bag or shirt, because they ran out, being squawked at by a couple of intense and totally flaky women whipping about. The only upside was that I could get my bib and timing tag so I wouldn’t have to deal with that crap in the morning. That whole experience was just unnerving and irritating in its inefficiency and psychosis, which left me wanting to do anything else but race in the morning. Sleeping, eating, and watching the EPL (English Premier League for those keeping score) was sounding so much more exciting and desirable than a 5 am wake-up call, a long ass Q train ride to the park, and a chilly morning’s gallop in short shorts.

Well, the insane air raid siren alarm goes off, I go through my routine and get my butt in gear and on the train. I spent the ride down, listening to The Haunted (so appropriate heading into the Halloween season), and reviewing the texting conversation between White She-Devil and myself about the pace plan for the race. It went something like this:

SS: Instructions for tomorrow?
WSD: Win
SS: Duh … of course?!
WSD: OK, but in all seriousness … Get a good warm-up, don’t go out too hard, race the 2nd half. Race it for real, it will give us good data.
SS: First mile split?
WSD: How do you feel about 6-6:10 range?
SS: Do I have to answer that? Fine. It shall be done.

Reading it again I couldn’t help but feel bullied into that pace, like Mouth coercing Chunk into the Truffle Shuffle in “The Goonies” … Come ON!!! Do IT! Come on. DO IT!! I changed into my PureFlow on the train and surveyed the mass of runners making the journey with me and was pretty impressed by the sheer quantity of people that paid like $75 for a 10k race and to get a really, really heavy medal!

Now, on my way to the starting area, I have to say, there was one thing that I saw that completely took me by surprise. I mean, seriously, there is nothing in the world that can prepare you for seeing two guys, seemingly boxers by the sweat suits and shadowboxing, running towards you one of which with a shake weight bouncing up and down in his two hands. Oh yah, this was something to behold, I tell you. I stopped walking, watched the two rather large gentlemen cruise by, and then just gawked at his form and technique using both hands on the shake weight while running. RIVETING!!

It took a while to shake that image from my head, but once it cleared and I dropped my bag, etc. I went through my 20-minute warm-up, as prescribed by WSD, and headed for my corral. Temps were pretty much perfect, I felt loose, but still skeptical about the race plan. At the sound of the start I eased into the race and just trying to find a nice rhythm and cadence while getting out of the thick of the pack, that lovely initial swell surging forward like an above ground pool bursting through one of its walls. First mile I just kept in check and found a runner to basically pace off of so I would have a fair measuring stick and, amazingly enough, basically did that mile to spec, 6:09. From there is just worked it rhythmically trying to stay comfortable and whenever my calf started getting pissy with me I backed it down a bit. First loop of the park was solid, then coming up the “big hill” for the second time my right leg was a little crankier about it, but the second I cleared the hill and the pitch of the road dipped I felt completely fine again and just kept my foot on the gas, which was pretty much a 5:53 pace (WSD wanted me to be sure to point that out).

The last 2-miles were spent chasing down the same two people, a really nice Kiwi (New Zealander for those requiring an explanation) and a dude in a long sleeved black shirt. The three of us basically took turns pushing the group, rotating from lead to back of the pack, all the way until the last 800-meters when I decided that I’d had enough of that. I went from the back of our little pack to the front and just closed the damn race out. After crossing the finish line I immediately turned around and slapped five and shook the hands of the other two and thanked them for keeping me honest for the last couple of miles. When I looked down at my watch and was kind of disappointed, solely due to the fact that I had run a 37:07 PR at the Cow Harbor 10k not long ago and I had just done a 37:09. Oh well, they won’t ALL be PRs and this was NOT my goal race, so I moved on.

I got my bag, then the shirt that they didn’t have for me the night before and went to watch some of my friends finish up and see how they did. Unlike the majority of people at the race, I had no real issue with gear check, I also refused to use the RnR back pack bag that they gave out, because I wanted something much more recognizable and different so I could retrieve it easily. But, once my friends finished up and they went to get their gear, HOLY CRAP was it a complete cluster f*ck!!! Lines for each truck were really long, there was only one person or maybe two staffers on the truck retrieving them and absolutely NO discernible system for their storage. All the bags were just in heaps to be tossed and sorted through, just awful! OY!!! RnR, ya might want to get it together with the organizing and logistics, this is not the first time I’ve experienced this with you guys!

All in all it was a successful race day where I finished better than I have in a New York race ever and actually won my age group for the first time since I did a random 5-miler in MA when I was 15 years old. Final stats were as follows: Finished in 37:09, 25/4305, 20th male, 1st in division.

 

The Sasquatch vs. The Fly: 10K Main Event

T’was a week ago this Saturday
A most beautiful morning I have to say
One perfect to run a blistering pace
With a sinister smile upon my face
During the Healthy Kidney 10k.
I was sure that I would dominate the whole way
Sprinting up hills while others just faded away
But as it would be
Something happened to me
And this wasn’t to be my day.
All was well during miles 1 to 3
Unleashing my legs and setting them free
Laying waste to the Central Park course
Like an unstoppable Sasquatchian force
But what happened next who could foresee.
Then somewhere between miles 3 and 4
I was assaulted by something I now abhor
T’was a tiny, insignificant little fly
One that my eye simply couldn’t spy
And, yes, you could say I’m a bit sore.
The little bastard turned kamikaze
And proceeded to fly directly at me
Steadily running 6:15s heading south
He took aim at my open mouth
And proceeded to exercise its hostility.
WHAM! A direct hit!
And my body was thrown into a fit
I began to dry heave and gag
Doubled over, I began to sag
Firing off round after round of spit.
To the man looking at me with a curious eye
I pointed to my mouth gasping, “Fly!”
He had no idea what I was saying
With the grotesqueness I was displaying
Which is too bad cause I felt like I could die!
Once I pulled myself together
It was time to decide whether
I should fight to regain my goal
The one the fly so villainously stole
Or if I had reached the end of my tether.
It was impossible to deny
The efficacy of the fly
And his attack on me
Which quite obviously
Made my body completely fry.
As I fought to regain my previous pace
I was then forced to face
The inevitable truth of the matter
That my stride could get no flatter
And this was not going to be my race.
My body felt totally tapped
My race plan completely scrapped
But I battled on right through the finish line
Cursing the fly’s damn bee-line
Still feeling like complete crap.
I finished in 40:41
But my work was far from done
As I turned back onto the course
Cheering a tour de force
Enjoying this fun in the sun.
So what does one learn from such a tale
Of running bliss, despite the fail
To always keep a watchful eye
For the next errant, vindictive fly
And its overwhelming desire to assail!
 

The Last 10k & the Lil’ Voice

Over the last couple of months training my gallant, gaggle of galloping gals I have been posed numerous queries about running and training, but none so tricky as this one to explain: How do you train the brain to own the last 10k of the marathon without ever having run that far or run that race distance before?

There are all sorts of answers to this question that I am sure you can find on every coaching website or training book, and to some extent they are all correct. But since this is my little plot of lovely on the interweb, I shall only speak for myself and what I have come to understand and believe.

From this coach’s perspective there are a few ways to train and prep your brain for that ominous final 10k without ever having run the full 26.2 miles before. Honestly, a lot of it seems like common sense, but it still seems to elude people. Anyway, the most effective way, and best answer I have to this question, is to do a shorter distance – say a 21 to 23-miler – and do a focused workout over that distance. This past weekend I took three of my current runners out for a nice 21-mile stroll over the George Washington Bridge and through Pallisades Park with a focus on hill work.

For one in particular, Jo (aka LIrunner9), I broke her run into three parts, which ultimately resulted in a hill focused progression run, which is how we are approaching her ‘A’ race. Her focus through the first half of her run was to temper her pace, taking it easy right up to the 9.5-mile marker, which is set off by a nice 1-mile continuous climb. Tasty!! From that long climb through the back half of the run, Jo did a hill digger – pushing every incline – for the rest of the distance and then a hard push over the last 2-miles to test her finishing kick. Seriously, this is one of my favorite runs I do and it always kicks my ass and I always go back for seconds!

Anyway, for the ‘why.’ We started out at little slower pace to get the legs loose and to get comfortable with some unknown terrain, since she had never been through this section of the Park before. Also, this was a GROUP run and I didn’t want to edit out the social aspect at all, because the running community is amazing and it is fantastic to know that everyone out there is really pulling for one another to succeed. Furthermore, for the NYC marathon, one of the great tools that can be used to achieve your goal is to fall into one of the many pace groups that will pepper the race route and use them to help motivate and keep your rhythm nice and steady, which can often times be hard to do when you go out solo and get swept up in the adrenaline surge of marathon day.

Getting back to the run, the big hill climb was the launching point for digger portion of this run for a few reasons: 1. It is unlike anything that Jo will encounter in her race in terms of length, pitch, and difficulty. 2. It was dead in the middle of a very hilly course, which is lighter on the way out than on the way back, so burning the legs heading into the turn around ensured that the back half would be more work than coming out. Taking into account that approach, you can much closer simulate the full marathon distance without actually having to run it. 3. By pushing the 1-mile climb and forcing the issue you prompt the most difficult aspect of this run and the last 10k of the marathon, the mental side. At this point that lil’ voice starts with the questions in the runner’s head: How am I going to finish this? What the hell am I thinking doing this crap? Where the hell is the top of this thing?! How am I going to be able to stick to my plan after I crest this friggin’ hill?!

By making the back half of the run a digger, every hill, every minute incline tests the runner’s conditioning and resolve to fight through the pain, fatigue and self-defeating psychological torture. It is supremely important for the runner to KNOW that this moment is exactly what they have been training for and that there is no stopping them. This is where you tell yourself, “My mind doesn’t work for my body, my body works for my mind. Now move!!!” The mind is an amazing thing and if you can truly wrap it around that very simple idea, and I mean REALLY believe it, you will begin to see just how far and how much you can push your body.

The last two miles of this run is where you take the aforementioned mentality and really put it into action testing your conditioning as you kick to the finish. Those last miles are the culmination of everything that you have done, the hill repeats, the track work, speed drills, strength exercises, and especially your core work. I’ve had Jo, as well as all of my other runners, on a strictly regimented core routine that is done after every workout, to prepare them just for this moment. When you get to this point in this run or the marathon, your legs are tapped, or at least should start to really feel that way, and you start to depend more and more on your core to help pull your knees up and forward, keep your legs turning over, and driving yourself towards the tape. For Jo’s run, the last 2 miles were pretty flat and consistent and after all of those hills it was the first opportunity she had to really open her stride and legs back up and she really pushed through them.

So, what are the last 10k of the marathon like? It is pain. It is sweat. It is tears. You’ve hit the wall, busted through it and are looking for anything and everything within yourself and the crowds along the streets to help push you through to the finish line. It is the ultimate test of your mental toughness. The point where that lil’ voice in your head that you have trusted to this point now begins to cast doubt over the tone of your mantras. You wince. You really start to question everything that you are doing in terms of your pace and planning. Your watch and the course clock hang heavy on you as you constantly check your time, doing the math as quickly as your strained brain can handle. And you know what, you WILL get through it.

Running that last 10k is as much about your training as it is about who you are as a person. When you hear that lil’ voice in your head telling you that there is nothing left, that this is too much, do you listen? Or, do you tell yourself the most basic mantra I know, which got me through my first marathon, “You’ve worked too hard for this. There is NO stopping until it is done!” I have the utmost respect for anyone, and I do mean anyone, that has the stones to go out and train and run a marathon, whether it’s a three-hour Boston qualifier or a six-hour run-walker. The mental and physical toughness that this event tests you with from the starting gun to the moment they place that metal around your neck is phenomenal!

So, to answer the question with a question: When you get to that last 10k and that lil’ voice starts to chime in, what will your response be?

 
ďż˝ 2011 Team Sasquatch
designed by Jamie Bergin
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