roy.nerdy.net
Will she or won't she?
She won't.
The expression "Long Haul" is going to be redefined by Rodham over the next few weeks (months?!). Ugh, its going to be so immensely ugly.
How hilarious is it that over the past 7 days we've seen pictures of Hillary doing shots and Barack drinking a big old pint of beer...it once was a joke that this country votes for the guy/girl they want to have a beer with, now its absolutely part of American political strategy.
Anyone else see American Experience on G.H.W. Bush? Fascinating stuff.
She won't.
The expression "Long Haul" is going to be redefined by Rodham over the next few weeks (months?!). Ugh, its going to be so immensely ugly.
How hilarious is it that over the past 7 days we've seen pictures of Hillary doing shots and Barack drinking a big old pint of beer...it once was a joke that this country votes for the guy/girl they want to have a beer with, now its absolutely part of American political strategy.
Anyone else see American Experience on G.H.W. Bush? Fascinating stuff.
Learn to use photoshop from a guy who sounds both thoroughly defeated and exceedingly exasperated at the same time:
My name is Donny, and you sucjk at photoshop.
There are 11 clips, and with the first four at least, each is funnier than the one before.
My name is Donny, and you sucjk at photoshop.
There are 11 clips, and with the first four at least, each is funnier than the one before.
First of all, thanks to everyone for the calls, emails, texts, posts, etc. I put a lot of effort into this race, and it was great to hear from everyone. I finished in 2:53:42 and came away with a PR, and I’m pretty excited about that. Boston is a much more difficult course than Tallahassee where I had my previous PR of 2:54:30.
Having said that, I can’t help but having some mixed emotions about the race. Part of me is disappointed that I missed my goal of sub 2:50
The other part of me is proud of how I ran the race. I knew sub 2:50 was going to be tough, but when I was going for it I felt easier than I expected. Therefore, I made the conscious decision to run faster and go for something in the mid- 2:40’s. More so than running sub 2:50 - I wanted to run the absolute best race I could possibly run, I just miscalculated exactly what I capable of. I gave it all I had, so I can’t really be that disappointed.
The race felt like it was broken into three distinct sections:
Start – Mile 15:
I felt good, really good. In fact it turned out to be too good, because I was running faster than I should have been. Oops.
Mile 15 – 21:
The transition from feeling great to knowing I was in trouble was amazingly fast. It all happened in about a half mile after Wellesley but before the start of the hills at 128. It wasn’t much but at one moment I felt unstoppable, then I started thinking about how my quads didn’t feel great. It was pretty minor, but there was a little bit of a tingle in my lower quads that was slowly becoming more and more noticeable.
My splits didn’t drop much, around low 6:20’s to around 6:30’s, then around 6:40’s in the hills (which was to be expected). However, the amount of energy it was taking to run that was astronomical compared to what it was before. My quads just weren’t allowing my legs to roll along with the same efficiency as before.
Things got worse as the hills got more intense, but I was still confident I could recover after the hills ended.
Mile 21 – Finish:
There was a small section after the hills were I felt good, but it was brief. I wasn’t able to get back into a rhythm. My legs hurt. My back hurt. My abs hurt. The sun felt incredibly strong. It wasn’t good. By mile 22 I also became very aware that I wasn’t going to make 2:50, which took a huge mental toll. I was slowing down, and couldn’t do much about it… until Lance Armstrong caught me.
I passed Lance at mile 2, and was pretty sure that would be the last I saw of him. When I was near him all you could hear was the crowd yelling for him, as I went along that became more and more distant until I couldn’t hear it at all. Then all of a sudden at Cleveland Circle it was back.
Seeing him there was an immediate shot of adrenaline that kicked me into gear. I really wanted to beat him, thought I had, and all of sudden he was right there. I'd have to imagine it's just a taste of what his Tour de France opponents felt like.
Suddenly my legs felt light, and I felt like a new person. I can’t really describe it other than I felt like a beast sleeping inside me awoken. I started flying. Right at that point I saw Jake and Jeff Graham watching. In that immediate adrenaline surge I looked at them at yelled “Hey, look who is BEHIND me!” and pointed right at Lance. I’m 100% positive that he heard me. I kind of regret it, but at the same time it's pretty funny. How often does someone competing against Lance Armstrong talk trash to him?
I kept on running at an absurd pace which somehow felt like I could keep it up. I was sure I had put a good amount of distance on him, then I looked over my shoulder and he was right next to me. I said something like “great job” to him, but he didn’t acknowledge me at all. He just stared straight ahead looking completely emotionless, and very intimidating. He was like a machine.
I ran with him for about a ½ mile, and quickly went back to feeling like crap. He picked up the pace, and I tucked into the pack of people behind him. I was determined to hang with him and out kick him to the finish. Right after Mile 23 he picked up his pace a little more and I couldn’t hang on.
As soon as I fell off the back of the pack, it was like everything that had hurt before came back tenfold. My pace slowed drastically, dozens and dozens of people passed me. I had to stop and walk for 10 yards. It all fell apart, and I felt an enormous let down. I kept plugging along, just wanting the race to be over, but at 25.2 miles I passed the 1 mile to go sign, looked at my watch, and realized I could still get a PR.
To a runner, a PR is everything. I have a list of my best race times at various distances hanging on my wall. The feeling I get every time I cross one out and replace it with a faster time is indescribable; even more so when it's a marathon. This is what I thought about while passing the sign that read "1 Mile to go". I gave it everything I had, it hurt like hell, but running down Boylston St. towards a PR made it all worth while.
So like I said before, if goals were easy there would be no pride in achieving them. I’ll get it next year.
Having said that, I can’t help but having some mixed emotions about the race. Part of me is disappointed that I missed my goal of sub 2:50
The other part of me is proud of how I ran the race. I knew sub 2:50 was going to be tough, but when I was going for it I felt easier than I expected. Therefore, I made the conscious decision to run faster and go for something in the mid- 2:40’s. More so than running sub 2:50 - I wanted to run the absolute best race I could possibly run, I just miscalculated exactly what I capable of. I gave it all I had, so I can’t really be that disappointed.
The race felt like it was broken into three distinct sections:
Start – Mile 15:
I felt good, really good. In fact it turned out to be too good, because I was running faster than I should have been. Oops.
Mile 15 – 21:
The transition from feeling great to knowing I was in trouble was amazingly fast. It all happened in about a half mile after Wellesley but before the start of the hills at 128. It wasn’t much but at one moment I felt unstoppable, then I started thinking about how my quads didn’t feel great. It was pretty minor, but there was a little bit of a tingle in my lower quads that was slowly becoming more and more noticeable.
My splits didn’t drop much, around low 6:20’s to around 6:30’s, then around 6:40’s in the hills (which was to be expected). However, the amount of energy it was taking to run that was astronomical compared to what it was before. My quads just weren’t allowing my legs to roll along with the same efficiency as before.
Things got worse as the hills got more intense, but I was still confident I could recover after the hills ended.
Mile 21 – Finish:
There was a small section after the hills were I felt good, but it was brief. I wasn’t able to get back into a rhythm. My legs hurt. My back hurt. My abs hurt. The sun felt incredibly strong. It wasn’t good. By mile 22 I also became very aware that I wasn’t going to make 2:50, which took a huge mental toll. I was slowing down, and couldn’t do much about it… until Lance Armstrong caught me.
I passed Lance at mile 2, and was pretty sure that would be the last I saw of him. When I was near him all you could hear was the crowd yelling for him, as I went along that became more and more distant until I couldn’t hear it at all. Then all of a sudden at Cleveland Circle it was back.
Seeing him there was an immediate shot of adrenaline that kicked me into gear. I really wanted to beat him, thought I had, and all of sudden he was right there. I'd have to imagine it's just a taste of what his Tour de France opponents felt like.
Suddenly my legs felt light, and I felt like a new person. I can’t really describe it other than I felt like a beast sleeping inside me awoken. I started flying. Right at that point I saw Jake and Jeff Graham watching. In that immediate adrenaline surge I looked at them at yelled “Hey, look who is BEHIND me!” and pointed right at Lance. I’m 100% positive that he heard me. I kind of regret it, but at the same time it's pretty funny. How often does someone competing against Lance Armstrong talk trash to him?
I kept on running at an absurd pace which somehow felt like I could keep it up. I was sure I had put a good amount of distance on him, then I looked over my shoulder and he was right next to me. I said something like “great job” to him, but he didn’t acknowledge me at all. He just stared straight ahead looking completely emotionless, and very intimidating. He was like a machine.
I ran with him for about a ½ mile, and quickly went back to feeling like crap. He picked up the pace, and I tucked into the pack of people behind him. I was determined to hang with him and out kick him to the finish. Right after Mile 23 he picked up his pace a little more and I couldn’t hang on.
As soon as I fell off the back of the pack, it was like everything that had hurt before came back tenfold. My pace slowed drastically, dozens and dozens of people passed me. I had to stop and walk for 10 yards. It all fell apart, and I felt an enormous let down. I kept plugging along, just wanting the race to be over, but at 25.2 miles I passed the 1 mile to go sign, looked at my watch, and realized I could still get a PR.
To a runner, a PR is everything. I have a list of my best race times at various distances hanging on my wall. The feeling I get every time I cross one out and replace it with a faster time is indescribable; even more so when it's a marathon. This is what I thought about while passing the sign that read "1 Mile to go". I gave it everything I had, it hurt like hell, but running down Boylston St. towards a PR made it all worth while.
So like I said before, if goals were easy there would be no pride in achieving them. I’ll get it next year.
The Baseball league I play in is looking for official league scorers. It will pay $25 per game. There are 84 games throughout the summer that we need to fill. If you or anyone you know is interested in the possibility of working a few games please let me know. Baseball scoring knowledge is preferred but not necessary. There is an informational meeting on May 6th for interested people. I can give more details or answer questions if anyone is interested.
thanks, tom
ps it's probably best to email me by clicking my name above.
thanks, tom
ps it's probably best to email me by clicking my name above.
I'm at my computer, working to the steady din of the huge crowd over at Franklin Field watching the Penn relays. It's a huge stadium--the Eagles used to play there in the 50s--and it's about a tenth of a mile away. Every once in a while the din erupts into full out rumble. I called Billy B (who's actually in the stadium watching the events) who said that there's apparently a large portion of the crowd is made of die hard Jamaican fans who just go crazy when a Jamaican runner takes her place on the blocks.
It definitely seems like an exciting track meet to be at.
It definitely seems like an exciting track meet to be at.
I completely forgot the "only in Philly" detail to the Cavanaugh's vignette.
Midway through the second period during a lull in both games a few short howls broke through the din out of nowhere. I thought it was the bartender and definitely thought that was strange. Human howling isn't necessarily inherently strange at a sporting event or sports bar, but given the energy level in the game at that point, it seemed out of place. The bartenders are really nice and accommodating, but I don't think they're the kind of folks who bay ironically at the Flyers or the Phillies.
A minute later there was one pitch perfect sustained howl and this time I could tell it definitely wasn't coming from the bartender, who was handing me a plate of buffalo chicken tenders. I looked toward the other end of the bar and there's a guy playing with his 100 pound hound dog like we're in Fairmount Park. Shot of whiskey, tussle with the dog. Shot of whiskey, tussle with the dog. This was their routine at 8pm. Once I noticed the dog, who was 100% bloodhound, I realized the waitstaff all knew the dog well. Every time they passed by they'd click their tongues who do a quiet "ruff." And every once in a while a regular would come over to pet it, which is when it would usually let out a single howl that sounded pretty mournful, but I guess was intended to be a greeting.
Anyway, as I said, only in Philly.
Midway through the second period during a lull in both games a few short howls broke through the din out of nowhere. I thought it was the bartender and definitely thought that was strange. Human howling isn't necessarily inherently strange at a sporting event or sports bar, but given the energy level in the game at that point, it seemed out of place. The bartenders are really nice and accommodating, but I don't think they're the kind of folks who bay ironically at the Flyers or the Phillies.
A minute later there was one pitch perfect sustained howl and this time I could tell it definitely wasn't coming from the bartender, who was handing me a plate of buffalo chicken tenders. I looked toward the other end of the bar and there's a guy playing with his 100 pound hound dog like we're in Fairmount Park. Shot of whiskey, tussle with the dog. Shot of whiskey, tussle with the dog. This was their routine at 8pm. Once I noticed the dog, who was 100% bloodhound, I realized the waitstaff all knew the dog well. Every time they passed by they'd click their tongues who do a quiet "ruff." And every once in a while a regular would come over to pet it, which is when it would usually let out a single howl that sounded pretty mournful, but I guess was intended to be a greeting.
Anyway, as I said, only in Philly.
Philadelphia has tons of quirky bars. Most recently, a friend introduced me to Cavanaugh's--five blocks from school heading into West Philly--which my friend discovered last year because they show all the Red Sox games. It's an old sports bar, complete with wood veneer panelling, linoleum flooring, and, because it's Philly, where you can purchase 6-packs to go from bars and pizza shops (but no wine or hard liquor; and you can't purchase beer where you can purchase the others), one entire wall is lined with coolers packed with all kinds of beer. Other decor details are fuzzy, because each time I walk in I'm overwhelmed by the number of TVs of all different sizes that have been hung from ceilings and attached to walls with no apparent order except the order in which they were purchased. It's essentially a working exhibit of the evolution of TV's industrial design over the past fifteen (maybe twenty) years that simultaneously documents the rise and fall of different manufacturing brands in that period.
The focal point of the restaurant portion of the bar, which is also lined with TVs, is a pyramid of various sized TVs on a small stage in a corner where they must have had live acts in the past. Anchoring the pyramid is one of those giant TVs from the mid-80s that stands about 4 feet tall with its built in cabinet and rollies. Several other TVs hang from the ceiling on either side to frame it. On Saturday night we were there to watch Game 6 of the Bruins series and while the Bruins were relegated to a small 22" in screen to the right, George Costanza's forehead was glowing on that giant, slightly pixelated screen, with no sound. That was a strange combo.
Situated in front of the pyramid of TV's are five more 30" screens that sit across the front of the stage on cardboard boxes covered with white sheets. That is truly an amazing touch--especially because several of the box (not surprisingly) have started to bow just a little, so the screens are all tilted at slightly different angles.
Basically, this is the kind of sports bar an eccentric sports fanatic would build in his basement with TVs he picked out of trash piles on spring dump day over the course of several years. It's hilarious.
You can catch any game/sporting event there, and becuase Philadelphia sports fans are really intense and very vocal, and tend to use particularly colorful language, it's a great place to go for live entertainment.
The focal point of the restaurant portion of the bar, which is also lined with TVs, is a pyramid of various sized TVs on a small stage in a corner where they must have had live acts in the past. Anchoring the pyramid is one of those giant TVs from the mid-80s that stands about 4 feet tall with its built in cabinet and rollies. Several other TVs hang from the ceiling on either side to frame it. On Saturday night we were there to watch Game 6 of the Bruins series and while the Bruins were relegated to a small 22" in screen to the right, George Costanza's forehead was glowing on that giant, slightly pixelated screen, with no sound. That was a strange combo.
Situated in front of the pyramid of TV's are five more 30" screens that sit across the front of the stage on cardboard boxes covered with white sheets. That is truly an amazing touch--especially because several of the box (not surprisingly) have started to bow just a little, so the screens are all tilted at slightly different angles.
Basically, this is the kind of sports bar an eccentric sports fanatic would build in his basement with TVs he picked out of trash piles on spring dump day over the course of several years. It's hilarious.
You can catch any game/sporting event there, and becuase Philadelphia sports fans are really intense and very vocal, and tend to use particularly colorful language, it's a great place to go for live entertainment.
Thanks, Chip, and anyone else who was tracking me on Monday. Every time I step on one of those electronic pads I get a good feeling thinking of all my friends checking up on my race. Even when, hypothetically of course, my pace starts tanking at mile 13 and I feel like crap for the next 13 miles, it makes me laugh a little to know my friends are out there saying, "Ooooh, she's hurtin'." Even with a bad race though, it's always awesome to run Boston.
Culla and Liz, I had so much fun tracking your progress today while at work. You both totally kicked ass. Culla, did you see Lance? You were right with him for a long time, which is to say that you were performing at the same level as one of the greatest athletes of all time.
You should be really proud, guys. Way to kick that marathon's ass.
You should be really proud, guys. Way to kick that marathon's ass.
2:53:42
Nice!
Great job Culla
Nice!
Great job Culla
The marathon is tomorrow and you can track runners on this page. Elite women start at 9:35, Elite men and the first wave of runners are at 10, the rest are at 10:30. You may know a few people running, whose bib numbers are:
Culla: 1909
Liz Pino: 14310
Dalina Chawalit: 26219
Good luck.
Culla: 1909
Liz Pino: 14310
Dalina Chawalit: 26219
Good luck.
Greetings, race day is just about here, and I'm pumped for it. Training has been going well (as you may or may not have read), and I've never felt more ready for a race. My goal is to break 2:50, which is a bit advantageous, but I'm going for it. I'll be happy with anything faster than my personal best (2:54:30), but I really want to break 2:50. It breaks down to 6:27/mile pace, and I'm going to try and lock in to 6:25 pace. I expect to slow down a bit in the hills between miles 16-21 and hopefully I'll be able to pick it up during the last 5 miles.
If anyone out there in Nerdy.Net Land would like to track the race, it's pretty easy to do online. Just go to BAA.org and go to "Athlete Alert" and type in the number of the runner you'd like to track. My number is 1909. The BAA gives splits every 5K and at the half-marathon; my projected splits for those are:
5K - 20:00 (10:20)
10K - 40:00 (10:40)
15k - 1:00:00 (11:00)
20K - 1:20:00 (11:20)
Half Marathon - 1:24:00 - 1:25:00 (11:24 - 11:25)
25K - 1:39:40 (11:39:40)
30K -2:00:10 (12:00) - the hills start here, I expect to slow down a little bit during this section
35K- 2:20:40 (12:20) - finish up the hills during this stretch.
40K - 2:40:35 (12:40) - Hopefully I'll be returning to pace after the hills
Finish - Hopefully under 2:50 - finishing by 12:50.
If you plan to be out there watching, send me an email (BCullinan@gmail.com) and let me know where you'll be. I'll keep an eye out for you, and try and project what time I'll be there.
Thanks for the support,
Culla
If anyone out there in Nerdy.Net Land would like to track the race, it's pretty easy to do online. Just go to BAA.org and go to "Athlete Alert" and type in the number of the runner you'd like to track. My number is 1909. The BAA gives splits every 5K and at the half-marathon; my projected splits for those are:
5K - 20:00 (10:20)
10K - 40:00 (10:40)
15k - 1:00:00 (11:00)
20K - 1:20:00 (11:20)
Half Marathon - 1:24:00 - 1:25:00 (11:24 - 11:25)
25K - 1:39:40 (11:39:40)
30K -2:00:10 (12:00) - the hills start here, I expect to slow down a little bit during this section
35K- 2:20:40 (12:20) - finish up the hills during this stretch.
40K - 2:40:35 (12:40) - Hopefully I'll be returning to pace after the hills
Finish - Hopefully under 2:50 - finishing by 12:50.
If you plan to be out there watching, send me an email (BCullinan@gmail.com) and let me know where you'll be. I'll keep an eye out for you, and try and project what time I'll be there.
Thanks for the support,
Culla
If Ben Rogers were to bone up on his geographically - ambiguous - quasi - tough - guy accent and then record himself playing a modified, crazy difficult, version of Super Mario Brothers, it might look a bit like this:
Super Mario Brothers Frustration
Super Mario Brothers Frustration
We entered a music video contest thingy on a site called Banana Pot. We're trying to rack up votes from people who may want to vote for us... which is where you come in! Voting does not require registration on this site and takes like .5 seconds. All you need to do is click the number of stars you would give the video. Here are the links to our two videos on there... no pressure! Thanks, everyone.
http://bananapot.com/video-experimental-39873-reversed_sides?n=1
http://bananapot.com/video-electronic-39869-the_spare_room?n=1
http://bananapot.com/video-experimental-39873-reversed_sides?n=1
http://bananapot.com/video-electronic-39869-the_spare_room?n=1
I work for the Sports Licensed Division of the adidas Group. Yes. A Mouthful. I have a very Yankees/Red Sox feeling towards Nike, I'm not proud of it, I generally steer clear of the automatic dislike of something like a competitor or a rival, because mainly I think its tired and brainless.
But, I can't resist with Nike. I just despise a lot of what they say and do, I focus on the negative, I treat them unfairly, I hold them to higher standards than I hold my own company to, and I will never ever work for them, in what is ultimately a fairly small industry. I'm willing to burn that bridge.
I bring this up because the lone exception to my distaste for Beaverton is their friggen slogan. I lay awake at night, literally, thinking about "Just Do it" and how gosh darned awesome it. Its so simple and powerful and easy to translate. I like "Impossible is Nothing." I think its cool, I think its sweet, I think its fancy, I think its inspirational, but its not Just Do It.
I bring this up now because, Culla, I wanted to find the most succinct way, despite my wordiness, to tell you that you are going to absolutely blast this race out of the water this weekend. You are too prepared, too focused, too energized, too GOOD to not go out there and achieve the goal.
People achieve their goals, its easy to forget in a culture in which we have lofty and strange goals of marrying the prom queen and being real rich and having a reality TV show about us and ultimately having our name (or privates) in lights on TMZ...but people do still set out to achieve something and do it.
Not many adults do this anymore. We all sorta just drift. You aren't a drifter, Culla. You are an athlete, a monster, and I am fired up about your race. You should be too, and I think you are.
So, to sum up, Culla. 3 simple words.
Just Do It.
But, I can't resist with Nike. I just despise a lot of what they say and do, I focus on the negative, I treat them unfairly, I hold them to higher standards than I hold my own company to, and I will never ever work for them, in what is ultimately a fairly small industry. I'm willing to burn that bridge.
I bring this up because the lone exception to my distaste for Beaverton is their friggen slogan. I lay awake at night, literally, thinking about "Just Do it" and how gosh darned awesome it. Its so simple and powerful and easy to translate. I like "Impossible is Nothing." I think its cool, I think its sweet, I think its fancy, I think its inspirational, but its not Just Do It.
I bring this up now because, Culla, I wanted to find the most succinct way, despite my wordiness, to tell you that you are going to absolutely blast this race out of the water this weekend. You are too prepared, too focused, too energized, too GOOD to not go out there and achieve the goal.
People achieve their goals, its easy to forget in a culture in which we have lofty and strange goals of marrying the prom queen and being real rich and having a reality TV show about us and ultimately having our name (or privates) in lights on TMZ...but people do still set out to achieve something and do it.
Not many adults do this anymore. We all sorta just drift. You aren't a drifter, Culla. You are an athlete, a monster, and I am fired up about your race. You should be too, and I think you are.
So, to sum up, Culla. 3 simple words.
Just Do It.
I love racing. One of the great things about it is the relativity of it all. In sports in general, there is a usually a clearly defined winner and loser. You could say that about racing as well, the first to cross the line is the winner and everyone else is a loser… but I wouldn’t agree with it at all.
Marathons, in particular marathons the size of Boston, are a pretty amazing event in that the world’s best are in the same event as everyday people. Some will finish in around 2:08 – 2:10; some will finish after the 6- hour cut off, but everyone who crosses the finish line will experience the same feelings of pride and accomplishment. That’s pretty amazing.
Each runner that toes the line does so with their own set of goals and aspirations. Only a handful of runners can realistically expect to be the first across the finish line. The rest of us are there to challenge ourselves against a clock and our own abilities. Therefore I would say everyone who has challenged themselves to meet a goal, and has taken it on with a large degree of passion and pride, is entitled to the same feeling of accomplishment regardless of their time. We all go through the same arduous test and are separated only by how we fared in the genetic lottery and the factors in our lives that dictate how much we can put in to training. So in a sense, there are many winners.
As far as things go for me, I’ve never felt more ready for a race before. Still at this point I’m an emotional roller coaster. I go from feeling really confident and pumped one minute, to scare the next. When I think about the mile splits, the hills, and everything else I psyche myself out to the point where I’m doubtful that I can do it. However the truth is: a) the marathon is a tough thing to visualize b) all the stats I’ve gathered from my races and workouts tell me that I can do it. So I’ll just keep telling myself that. At this point all I can do is hope for good weather (50 and cloudy would be perfect), and get a lot of rest. The work is all done.
Last Week:
My taper started on Thursday. Basically tapering is a period of time leading up to the race where you run less and take more time off. It’s a pretty simply principle of resting before race day. Due to that, I really only pushed myself one day last week which was track on Tuesday.
The workout was 4 x 1 mile; first one run at the pace you can hold for 1 hour; the middle two the pace you could race a 5 Mile at, the last “something harder than that.” I ran 5:47, 5:33, and 5:32. All fine, no problem. Three of us were running together and all felt great. Our coach just gave the instruction to run the last mile at a “something harder than 5 mile race pace.” Since it was so vague I think we all knew before hand that it was going to be fast. We all had the look about us that just wanted to kill this mile.
My friend Alex took it out, and immediately there was no doubt that we were going to hammer this thing. We went through the first quarter in 75 seconds (5 min. /mile pace). The next one was just about the same.
About this time I started thinking that I’d go for and run sub 5 minutes. I’ve only done that twice, so it would have been cool to do it again. However, we were smart about it and realized that we were only 11 days away from a marathon and shouldn’t be killing ourselves now. We eased up the second half and finished in 5:09, which is still pretty awesome for the fourth mile of the work out.
So that’s it, training is over and done with, I’ve been taking it easy for 5 days and I have 5 more days of relaxing to go. Any running I do now is just to keep some sort of routine.
Thanks for reading – I’ll post info on how to track me during the race in the next couple of days.
Last week: 55 miles
2008: 850 miles
Training: 1323 miles (that’s 50.5 miles run in training, for every mile of the race).
I’m ready.
Marathons, in particular marathons the size of Boston, are a pretty amazing event in that the world’s best are in the same event as everyday people. Some will finish in around 2:08 – 2:10; some will finish after the 6- hour cut off, but everyone who crosses the finish line will experience the same feelings of pride and accomplishment. That’s pretty amazing.
Each runner that toes the line does so with their own set of goals and aspirations. Only a handful of runners can realistically expect to be the first across the finish line. The rest of us are there to challenge ourselves against a clock and our own abilities. Therefore I would say everyone who has challenged themselves to meet a goal, and has taken it on with a large degree of passion and pride, is entitled to the same feeling of accomplishment regardless of their time. We all go through the same arduous test and are separated only by how we fared in the genetic lottery and the factors in our lives that dictate how much we can put in to training. So in a sense, there are many winners.
As far as things go for me, I’ve never felt more ready for a race before. Still at this point I’m an emotional roller coaster. I go from feeling really confident and pumped one minute, to scare the next. When I think about the mile splits, the hills, and everything else I psyche myself out to the point where I’m doubtful that I can do it. However the truth is: a) the marathon is a tough thing to visualize b) all the stats I’ve gathered from my races and workouts tell me that I can do it. So I’ll just keep telling myself that. At this point all I can do is hope for good weather (50 and cloudy would be perfect), and get a lot of rest. The work is all done.
Last Week:
My taper started on Thursday. Basically tapering is a period of time leading up to the race where you run less and take more time off. It’s a pretty simply principle of resting before race day. Due to that, I really only pushed myself one day last week which was track on Tuesday.
The workout was 4 x 1 mile; first one run at the pace you can hold for 1 hour; the middle two the pace you could race a 5 Mile at, the last “something harder than that.” I ran 5:47, 5:33, and 5:32. All fine, no problem. Three of us were running together and all felt great. Our coach just gave the instruction to run the last mile at a “something harder than 5 mile race pace.” Since it was so vague I think we all knew before hand that it was going to be fast. We all had the look about us that just wanted to kill this mile.
My friend Alex took it out, and immediately there was no doubt that we were going to hammer this thing. We went through the first quarter in 75 seconds (5 min. /mile pace). The next one was just about the same.
About this time I started thinking that I’d go for and run sub 5 minutes. I’ve only done that twice, so it would have been cool to do it again. However, we were smart about it and realized that we were only 11 days away from a marathon and shouldn’t be killing ourselves now. We eased up the second half and finished in 5:09, which is still pretty awesome for the fourth mile of the work out.
So that’s it, training is over and done with, I’ve been taking it easy for 5 days and I have 5 more days of relaxing to go. Any running I do now is just to keep some sort of routine.
Thanks for reading – I’ll post info on how to track me during the race in the next couple of days.
Last week: 55 miles
2008: 850 miles
Training: 1323 miles (that’s 50.5 miles run in training, for every mile of the race).
I’m ready.
awesome.
Tonight was the night I was supposedly going to buckle down and do my taxes. It didn't happen, which means my tax-doing ritual is still on pace to be exactly the same as it has been for the past 3 years.
January: "I already got my W2s and 1040s... I'm good to go. I'll do my taxes early and reward myself by spending the return on something cool."
February: "I'll get them done before my birthday in March... that's a nice goal."
March: "I should file for an extension while I still can."
April, first week: "What the hell is wrong with me? I'm (insert newly-reached age) years old, for christ's sake! I could have at LEAST gotten an extension!"
April, second week: "Okay, it's down to the wire, but I will NOT wait until the last night."
April 14: "No, sorry, man, I can't hang out... I... um, I have some stuff I need to take care of... no, don't worry about it, everything'sfinetalktoyoulater (click)."
I think I subconsciously enjoy the last-minute ritual. For some reason I always listen to Bonnie "Prince" Billy's album Ease Down the Road (a great album that, outside of my tradition, has nothing to do with taxpaying) and I nearly always have irreconcilable printer problems that once even resulted in a trip to Kinkos at the crack of dawn.
But my pecuniary self-flagellation is especially pathetic this year, because in previous years, I had freelanced and thus needed to fill out Schedules B and C and have all these 1099s and do all kinds of confusing crap and end up paying lots of money. This year it's all one state form, one fed form, one W2, and, to my surprise and disappointment, one giant procrastination ritual nonetheless. What the hell.
January: "I already got my W2s and 1040s... I'm good to go. I'll do my taxes early and reward myself by spending the return on something cool."
February: "I'll get them done before my birthday in March... that's a nice goal."
March: "I should file for an extension while I still can."
April, first week: "What the hell is wrong with me? I'm (insert newly-reached age) years old, for christ's sake! I could have at LEAST gotten an extension!"
April, second week: "Okay, it's down to the wire, but I will NOT wait until the last night."
April 14: "No, sorry, man, I can't hang out... I... um, I have some stuff I need to take care of... no, don't worry about it, everything'sfinetalktoyoulater (click)."
I think I subconsciously enjoy the last-minute ritual. For some reason I always listen to Bonnie "Prince" Billy's album Ease Down the Road (a great album that, outside of my tradition, has nothing to do with taxpaying) and I nearly always have irreconcilable printer problems that once even resulted in a trip to Kinkos at the crack of dawn.
But my pecuniary self-flagellation is especially pathetic this year, because in previous years, I had freelanced and thus needed to fill out Schedules B and C and have all these 1099s and do all kinds of confusing crap and end up paying lots of money. This year it's all one state form, one fed form, one W2, and, to my surprise and disappointment, one giant procrastination ritual nonetheless. What the hell.
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