Fri Nov 2 Sunny 57°/46° 10% chance of rain
Sat Nov 3 Partly Cloudy 59°/47° 10%, Men's Olympic Marathon Qualifying!! and lunch with Runner Susan!!!
Sun Nov 4 Cloudy 63°/51° 10% NYC Marathon! I like it!!
Mon Nov 5 Partly Cloudy 62°/50° 10%
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I went out with the Sunday bunch at 7 this morning and there was a good crowd. A few long-time-no-see-'ums and a lot of other runners out on the streets; more so than usual.
I veered off the course at mile 6 to add a mile loop so I could do 12 today. I felt fine. The right knee was still a little sore but with the scaled back week ahead I will have some ibuprofin and rest to heal myself.
My expectations for New York are not anxious ones. I look forward to the experience, meeting and (hopefully) running with Runner Susan to PR together. I definitely look forward to seeing the Olympic Qualifying. I hope it's an easy spectator event to see. I worry a little about being on my feet too much but I think it'll be worth it to see the race.
10.28.2007
10.27.2007
Good to go
I took my time today. Nobody is here to get in my way or steer me.
At 8 I went out to run 8 miles. I was supposed to do it Thursday but saved it for today. The humidity was very high under drizzly skies and temps in the 70s. My tempo run was not so special through and through but I made it home in 1:20, just under 10 minute miles.
After stretching and a shower it was time to go see Hank for my pre-race massage. Only a three tendon attachment on the inside of my right knee had been nagging me the last month with some soreness that subsided once I warmed up on my runs.
Hank finished on my hips and asked me when I had last run. I told him about an hour ago and he said he would have never known. He found my hips in good shape and strong. After he had finished the rest of my legs he predicted a good race for me next Sunday.
Tomorrow I'll put down 10-12 miles with the Sunday gang. I wish the rain would stop. There's a front sliding in and out of our area that is mild and wet.
How does Runner Susan get 500 hook-ups for notification? That is boggling or she's trying to make me look bad. I will have my turn this weekend.
At 8 I went out to run 8 miles. I was supposed to do it Thursday but saved it for today. The humidity was very high under drizzly skies and temps in the 70s. My tempo run was not so special through and through but I made it home in 1:20, just under 10 minute miles.
After stretching and a shower it was time to go see Hank for my pre-race massage. Only a three tendon attachment on the inside of my right knee had been nagging me the last month with some soreness that subsided once I warmed up on my runs.
Hank finished on my hips and asked me when I had last run. I told him about an hour ago and he said he would have never known. He found my hips in good shape and strong. After he had finished the rest of my legs he predicted a good race for me next Sunday.
Tomorrow I'll put down 10-12 miles with the Sunday gang. I wish the rain would stop. There's a front sliding in and out of our area that is mild and wet.
How does Runner Susan get 500 hook-ups for notification? That is boggling or she's trying to make me look bad. I will have my turn this weekend.
10.26.2007
Five address limit
Sadly, the NYC Marathon limits us to five email race progress notifications per entrant. I have hit my limit with those who have already requested.
10.24.2007
NYC Race Number
We have a race number for those who like to watch paint dry, grass grow and similar pasttimes.
35189
I don't know what good this will do you before race day because there's no sign-up for text or email notification unless I put it in for you ... so if you want notification send me your email.
10.22.2007
Two weeks 'til New York
I ran a shake-out 5K route on Friday morning. I had enough tight emotions to go 50K but I was sapped. Plus it was raining and I didn't want my one pair of race day shoes to get soaked; what with a 15-miler to do on Sunday too. So I enjoyed the warm rain over the Shelter Harbor Race course and turned in after one circuit. It was meant to be a tempo run but I concentrated on pushing up the inclines with effort instead.
Flashback City. After the run I helped my dad put away numerous accessories and peripherals to my mother's health care that are no longer needed. That meant hauling them to the attic. I had never been in this 90-year old attic and it was very intriguing to see what I saw up there for the first time. Old steamer trunks my grandparents used when crossing the oceans, a parasol hanging from a rafter with most of its cloth lying on the floor boards, boxes marked "photos" and "ledgers" that have decades of history stored within.
I did not have time to explore too much but my eyes did fall upon a Boy Scout (Troop 4) backpack that a certain younger version of the Thin Trade had in junior high. I saw that it was packed full and my curiosity surged to Level 5. I looked inside and found two boxes, an old water canteen and three 33 RPM oldie albums from the mid 60s that I had absconded with from a former schoolmate. I could tell by the sloppy cross-out of another name and the clear spelling of my name.
One box had assorted baseball stickers that I believe were from my brother's era, knock hockey sticks and a puck to a game I built by hand in the early 60s; and a telescope I could never get into focus for the month or so I used it, way back when. At this age (now) I finally figured it out.
The second box was the mother-lode. It was a stationery box for envelopes and in it were sorted (by name and date) all my correspondence received from others (mostly female admirers) from 1966-1969. Wow. I spent the next 36 hours reading about all sorts of things that gave me a new insight into my former adolescent psyche. Allow me, right now, to express my sincere apologies to the following young ladies to whom my attempts at courting may have been gross or grossly misconstrued: Ellen, Maureen, Chris, Cindy, Cindi, Gretchen, Marjorie, Tonia, Beca, Sue, Susie, Laura, Dee, Ann, Catherine and a few other girls I can't even remember but who seemed to have had a deep interest in me.
Good grief. I could write a screenplay.
Most interesting is that one of the ladies named above just happened to visiting Rhode Island this past weekend and I could not help but bring her letters over to share some of the highlights and let her read what she wrote about life and love back in the late 60s. She threatened me my instant death if I shared any of the intimately revealing details with anyone; and her husband offered not a single penny for the lot of them. Bad luck.
15 Miler. For Sunday I mapped out a variation run from last week's 20-miler. Instead of leaving the colony and heading westerly I headed towards the sun and up a narrow, winding and hilly 2-lane road, rich in color and country. At the peak, I stopped at St. Vincent Catholic Church in Bradford and found myself red-faced, drippy and bare-legged in the under croft with all the Sunday school kids while the organ pumped out hymns above us. That was rich. I had some water, used the men's room and was on my way.
I angled back down straight to the Weekapaug breach way and along the ocean shore to Susie's and my beach (and that of a few of the aforementioned girls) . The sun was sparkling on the waters. The beach was deserted but for a few fisherman down towards the rocks. I breathed it all in and stared at a spot in the sand that had triggered many years of bliss.
I turned away and picked up the course along the back roads of Weekapaug, east on Shore Road, back to Shelter Harbor and down Gounod again, through X Corner and finishing at Sea Tower. It took 2:37 to cover the 15.75 miles. I felt good and strong but not interested in running any more that day. I had to pack and head back to Florida.
I gave Dad a hug and we shared a few moments remembering Mom and how things will be different but, perhaps, in a good way in many respects. He'll be fine once he gets through these next few weeks.
I am now tapering for New York. Runner Susan: be ready.
Flashback City. After the run I helped my dad put away numerous accessories and peripherals to my mother's health care that are no longer needed. That meant hauling them to the attic. I had never been in this 90-year old attic and it was very intriguing to see what I saw up there for the first time. Old steamer trunks my grandparents used when crossing the oceans, a parasol hanging from a rafter with most of its cloth lying on the floor boards, boxes marked "photos" and "ledgers" that have decades of history stored within.
I did not have time to explore too much but my eyes did fall upon a Boy Scout (Troop 4) backpack that a certain younger version of the Thin Trade had in junior high. I saw that it was packed full and my curiosity surged to Level 5. I looked inside and found two boxes, an old water canteen and three 33 RPM oldie albums from the mid 60s that I had absconded with from a former schoolmate. I could tell by the sloppy cross-out of another name and the clear spelling of my name.
One box had assorted baseball stickers that I believe were from my brother's era, knock hockey sticks and a puck to a game I built by hand in the early 60s; and a telescope I could never get into focus for the month or so I used it, way back when. At this age (now) I finally figured it out.
The second box was the mother-lode. It was a stationery box for envelopes and in it were sorted (by name and date) all my correspondence received from others (mostly female admirers) from 1966-1969. Wow. I spent the next 36 hours reading about all sorts of things that gave me a new insight into my former adolescent psyche. Allow me, right now, to express my sincere apologies to the following young ladies to whom my attempts at courting may have been gross or grossly misconstrued: Ellen, Maureen, Chris, Cindy, Cindi, Gretchen, Marjorie, Tonia, Beca, Sue, Susie, Laura, Dee, Ann, Catherine and a few other girls I can't even remember but who seemed to have had a deep interest in me.
Good grief. I could write a screenplay.
Most interesting is that one of the ladies named above just happened to visiting Rhode Island this past weekend and I could not help but bring her letters over to share some of the highlights and let her read what she wrote about life and love back in the late 60s. She threatened me my instant death if I shared any of the intimately revealing details with anyone; and her husband offered not a single penny for the lot of them. Bad luck.
15 Miler. For Sunday I mapped out a variation run from last week's 20-miler. Instead of leaving the colony and heading westerly I headed towards the sun and up a narrow, winding and hilly 2-lane road, rich in color and country. At the peak, I stopped at St. Vincent Catholic Church in Bradford and found myself red-faced, drippy and bare-legged in the under croft with all the Sunday school kids while the organ pumped out hymns above us. That was rich. I had some water, used the men's room and was on my way.
I angled back down straight to the Weekapaug breach way and along the ocean shore to Susie's and my beach (and that of a few of the aforementioned girls) . The sun was sparkling on the waters. The beach was deserted but for a few fisherman down towards the rocks. I breathed it all in and stared at a spot in the sand that had triggered many years of bliss.
I turned away and picked up the course along the back roads of Weekapaug, east on Shore Road, back to Shelter Harbor and down Gounod again, through X Corner and finishing at Sea Tower. It took 2:37 to cover the 15.75 miles. I felt good and strong but not interested in running any more that day. I had to pack and head back to Florida.
I gave Dad a hug and we shared a few moments remembering Mom and how things will be different but, perhaps, in a good way in many respects. He'll be fine once he gets through these next few weeks.
I am now tapering for New York. Runner Susan: be ready.
10.18.2007
10.14.2007
A "wonderful" 20 miles
To enhance your appreciation for my 20-miler this morning you'll have to open this map in another browser.
I was ready to set out shortly after 8:30. I dawdled because the NYC Mararthon will not start until 10:10 a.m. Might as well simulate as much as possible.
All was quiet in the house but for the oxygen pump doing its work. I had all sorts of dressing options. It was 45 degrees, breezy and sunny. I chose a short sleeve shirt and no gloves or hat. It was very nice by my estimation.
The first mile was uphill out of the colony and I took it slow to warm up. This summer hamlet is very quiet in mid-October on a Sunday morning. I headed west on US1 to Dunn's Corner with a fair stream of traffic and a steadily improving pace. Nothing in my body was hurting at all today.
At Dunn's Corner I headed north towards Bradford. That took me "up-country" where there are farms and hills and fall colors. Manfredi Farm still had corn and lots of pumpkins. I trotted past mules, sheep, goats, horses, and roosters. The sheep and goats bid me a few bays of salute.
I passed an RV park with free golf on an immaculate par 3 9-hole course and up some hills to Bradford. At SR 91 I headed west on the Bradford-Westerly Road where there is no shoulder, few homes, a lot of hills, a swamp and Chapman Pond. Past the pond, the rail line appeared and a couple of Amtrak trains flew by. The steep hills of Westerly's Italian neighborhood presented themselves and I pushed up them with pace and comfort. Three pizzarias, then a Tim Horton's donut shop. I stopped and begged a glass of water. I was about eight miles in.
Past the train station I ran through downtown Westerly, a town past its prime and not reinventing itself very well. I ran by the store that, in the '60s, was where my mom took me to buy wide-wail corduroy jeans (by Lee). Today it's a consignment shop.
Down to the river with a wave at Connecticut across the bridge, I headed south along Beach Street towards Watch Hill. Along the way I ran by the River Bend Cemetery where Mom has a reservation alongside her parents.
The rolling hills of the road to Watch Hill kept me sharp and slow. I ran by several marinas and boat yards where I have gone to sea on some memorable cruises. More water was available at the Cooked Goose where gourmet breakfasts fill the place especially on Sunday. This stop was at mile 12.
I continued on to more familiar roads near Watch Hill then cut across to the Shore Road. I passed the Lawrence's house then cut south to the beach at Misquamicut. The roads were virtually empty compared to the summertime. None of the beach clubs were open. No stores either. The state beach pavillion had turned off its water supply so I was running dry. Over a short distance of grass I ran with a dozen or so butterflies.
The three mile stretch to Weekapaug was flat and tedious. I could hear the ocean rolling and waves spanking the shore on the other side of the dunes. Tall grasses on the pond side were rustling in the wind. Gravel skipped as I chipped it on the roadside.
I was hoping that the bait and tackle store or Lambs would be open at the Weekapaug breachway but, alas, I was on my own for the last three miles home. I chewed on my last Clif Blok Shots and had enough saliva to get them down. Weekapaug is a pretty little beach house enclave and a few people who live here yeararound were out for walks.
I mounted the Noyes Neck Road inclines to the Shore Road, passing the farm where cows loiter in mindless bliss. Turning east, I had two miles to close out for the day's 20. The Clif Shots had given me some energy and I kept the pace up enough to reach Shelter Harbor again and run the false flats of Gounod Road, around X Corner and finished at Sea Tower, feeling mighty fine and tired.
As I walked back to the house I saw unfamiliar cars in the driveway. The hospice nurse and aide were there to tend to Mom. I had my fluids, a stretch and went upstairs. When I went in to see her, she opened her eyes and Dad told her I'd just run 20 miles. He asked what she though of that. She was able to say, "Wonderful."
Wonderful indeed.
I was ready to set out shortly after 8:30. I dawdled because the NYC Mararthon will not start until 10:10 a.m. Might as well simulate as much as possible.
All was quiet in the house but for the oxygen pump doing its work. I had all sorts of dressing options. It was 45 degrees, breezy and sunny. I chose a short sleeve shirt and no gloves or hat. It was very nice by my estimation.
The first mile was uphill out of the colony and I took it slow to warm up. This summer hamlet is very quiet in mid-October on a Sunday morning. I headed west on US1 to Dunn's Corner with a fair stream of traffic and a steadily improving pace. Nothing in my body was hurting at all today.
At Dunn's Corner I headed north towards Bradford. That took me "up-country" where there are farms and hills and fall colors. Manfredi Farm still had corn and lots of pumpkins. I trotted past mules, sheep, goats, horses, and roosters. The sheep and goats bid me a few bays of salute.
I passed an RV park with free golf on an immaculate par 3 9-hole course and up some hills to Bradford. At SR 91 I headed west on the Bradford-Westerly Road where there is no shoulder, few homes, a lot of hills, a swamp and Chapman Pond. Past the pond, the rail line appeared and a couple of Amtrak trains flew by. The steep hills of Westerly's Italian neighborhood presented themselves and I pushed up them with pace and comfort. Three pizzarias, then a Tim Horton's donut shop. I stopped and begged a glass of water. I was about eight miles in.
Past the train station I ran through downtown Westerly, a town past its prime and not reinventing itself very well. I ran by the store that, in the '60s, was where my mom took me to buy wide-wail corduroy jeans (by Lee). Today it's a consignment shop.
Down to the river with a wave at Connecticut across the bridge, I headed south along Beach Street towards Watch Hill. Along the way I ran by the River Bend Cemetery where Mom has a reservation alongside her parents.
The rolling hills of the road to Watch Hill kept me sharp and slow. I ran by several marinas and boat yards where I have gone to sea on some memorable cruises. More water was available at the Cooked Goose where gourmet breakfasts fill the place especially on Sunday. This stop was at mile 12.
I continued on to more familiar roads near Watch Hill then cut across to the Shore Road. I passed the Lawrence's house then cut south to the beach at Misquamicut. The roads were virtually empty compared to the summertime. None of the beach clubs were open. No stores either. The state beach pavillion had turned off its water supply so I was running dry. Over a short distance of grass I ran with a dozen or so butterflies.
The three mile stretch to Weekapaug was flat and tedious. I could hear the ocean rolling and waves spanking the shore on the other side of the dunes. Tall grasses on the pond side were rustling in the wind. Gravel skipped as I chipped it on the roadside.
I was hoping that the bait and tackle store or Lambs would be open at the Weekapaug breachway but, alas, I was on my own for the last three miles home. I chewed on my last Clif Blok Shots and had enough saliva to get them down. Weekapaug is a pretty little beach house enclave and a few people who live here yeararound were out for walks.
I mounted the Noyes Neck Road inclines to the Shore Road, passing the farm where cows loiter in mindless bliss. Turning east, I had two miles to close out for the day's 20. The Clif Shots had given me some energy and I kept the pace up enough to reach Shelter Harbor again and run the false flats of Gounod Road, around X Corner and finished at Sea Tower, feeling mighty fine and tired.
As I walked back to the house I saw unfamiliar cars in the driveway. The hospice nurse and aide were there to tend to Mom. I had my fluids, a stretch and went upstairs. When I went in to see her, she opened her eyes and Dad told her I'd just run 20 miles. He asked what she though of that. She was able to say, "Wonderful."
Wonderful indeed.
10.13.2007
Dramatic change in training
The knee feels better and the ITB seems less troubled. That's what six days of going easy will do for you. After last week's 15-miler I have one final 20-miler to do tomorrow morning before the taper. It would be a beautiful morning to run in Florida given the recent downshift in temperatures ...
... however ... life happens.
My brother and sister have gone to Rhode Island to be with my mother who is of very sound mind but failing body. Dad needs some help and encouraged us to come if we could. So I am back in the Ocean State where I can see the blue water from where I sit across the dunes in the sun room while Mom rests upstairs.
I mapped out a 20-miler for tomorrow morning. It'll be memorable. It'll be in high 40s/low 50s temps too. That should be a good little taste of what New York might be like. There are plenty of hills just up off the shore to torture me for the 3.5-4.0 hours tomorrow.
... however ... life happens.
My brother and sister have gone to Rhode Island to be with my mother who is of very sound mind but failing body. Dad needs some help and encouraged us to come if we could. So I am back in the Ocean State where I can see the blue water from where I sit across the dunes in the sun room while Mom rests upstairs.
I mapped out a 20-miler for tomorrow morning. It'll be memorable. It'll be in high 40s/low 50s temps too. That should be a good little taste of what New York might be like. There are plenty of hills just up off the shore to torture me for the 3.5-4.0 hours tomorrow.
10.12.2007
Stoke that stove
66 degrees.
That's what it was this morning when I went out for an easy five mile jaunt. It was the first time I wore a shirt while running since May (except in Rhode Island back in July).
I am dusting off the wood pile and pulling out the wool pa-jammies.
That's what it was this morning when I went out for an easy five mile jaunt. It was the first time I wore a shirt while running since May (except in Rhode Island back in July).
I am dusting off the wood pile and pulling out the wool pa-jammies.
10.11.2007
good news. bad news.
The good news is that Runner Susan and I have the same goals for the NYC Marathon. Finish. Near about same time (somewhere in the middle of the fourth hour). Margaritas. That last one is not definite because it is New York, not Tijuana. Either way we have many of the same intentions.
The bad news is the inside of my right knee hurt after my 20 miler two weeks ago and radiated to a very sore ITB after the 15 miler on Sunday and 6x1200s I did Tuesday. I am chewing ibuprofins and delayed my latest 5-mile run until tomorrow. It feels better. I stretch. I roll. I self massage.
I have 20 to do on Sunday. It doesn't hurt too badly once I warm up but it sure is noticeable.
I visit Hank the pneumatic massage specialist next Wednesday. That painful relief cannot come soon enough.
Sports note - have a nice winter Yankees (but don't fire Torre)! Go Rocks and Sox!
The bad news is the inside of my right knee hurt after my 20 miler two weeks ago and radiated to a very sore ITB after the 15 miler on Sunday and 6x1200s I did Tuesday. I am chewing ibuprofins and delayed my latest 5-mile run until tomorrow. It feels better. I stretch. I roll. I self massage.
I have 20 to do on Sunday. It doesn't hurt too badly once I warm up but it sure is noticeable.
I visit Hank the pneumatic massage specialist next Wednesday. That painful relief cannot come soon enough.
Sports note - have a nice winter Yankees (but don't fire Torre)! Go Rocks and Sox!
10.07.2007
Summer returns
I know it was warm in Chicago today. I am guessing pal Jason can handle it, given his training in the Florida heat.
The heat and humidity returned this weekend. The only good thing I can say about today is that the rain didn't start until about 11 a.m. after I got home from going 15. I did the first five with Charline on the Lake Chelton hills. Then we did the 10 mile loop with a few others who made it out. I did it all in 2:35 but not without some cussing and wishing for last weekend's cooler and drier air. Today was 77F at 6 a.m.
The heat and humidity returned this weekend. The only good thing I can say about today is that the rain didn't start until about 11 a.m. after I got home from going 15. I did the first five with Charline on the Lake Chelton hills. Then we did the 10 mile loop with a few others who made it out. I did it all in 2:35 but not without some cussing and wishing for last weekend's cooler and drier air. Today was 77F at 6 a.m.
10.04.2007
6 zip
The last time I did 400 repeats it was after a 14 mile long run. I knocked off six (of 12) laps in under 1:45. Yesterday, after 20 miles on Sunday I was feeling fine but not very sharp. Very lethargic and spent. None of the dozen 400s came in under 1:45.
And I didn't care. It felt fine. I maintained 1:45-1:55 times for the most part and never felt not up to the challenge.
Best of luck to everyone running Chicago this weekend. The big triple of marathons is upon us and there's a whole lot of tapering or peaking going on. I still have a 15 and 20 to do before New York. I really just want the "cool" low 70s to come back this weekend.
And I didn't care. It felt fine. I maintained 1:45-1:55 times for the most part and never felt not up to the challenge.
Best of luck to everyone running Chicago this weekend. The big triple of marathons is upon us and there's a whole lot of tapering or peaking going on. I still have a 15 and 20 to do before New York. I really just want the "cool" low 70s to come back this weekend.
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