#BostonStrong

In respective cities across America, people organized large group runs with everyone wearing Boston colors, Boston themed signs… you name it, to show support for Boston. Pavement Runner began the movement and my friend Abbey organized the NYC group.

There were well over 300 runners and 2 or 3 news stations covering the event.

Abbey, Abbe, Claire, Caroline, Elizabeth, Sharon, Jeremy, BoJo, Maura, Erin, Elyssa, Paddy, Allen, Josh, Erica, Lora, Jess, Jocelyn, and my new friend Michelle were just a handful of my runner peeps I got to see.

Sharon, Claire, Caroline and I were part of the ‘Walker Committee of Injured or Pregnant Representatives.’ We went once around the lower loop watching in awe as all of the many runners decked out in blue and yellow streamed around the Park. We ended at Tavern (which is where we started) to ‘Power Arches’ and loads of cheering.

In the grand scheme of things the attack in Boston was an attack on the citizens of the United States of America, not runners. In the grand scheme of Baker, not only was my country attacked, but my community of amazing athletes that I have the honor of being friends with. People who raise money for charity by running. People who raise kids while training for a marathon. Speed demons who defy the laws of nature and best of all, senior citizens who own the right to call themselves ‘bad ass at 80.’

As marathon runners, no one cares what you do for a living. We don’t care how much money you make or how big your house is. We want to know how hard you pushed those last few miles, in agony and pain, to break 4 hours. You either get it or you don’t. I feel like my family was attacked and it really hurt, so getting out to run and show that we are strong as a community was just what we needed.

Thanks for organizing Abbey!

Due to the horrible tragedy that took place on Marathon Monday, I have been holding off on posting this as I felt it wasn’t appropriate. I wrote it before Boston. This has deeply affected me and I have been walking around in a daze for the last few days. The Marathon is test of human spirit and will power, it is what I live for and what now defines me. Hopefully, the meaning and beauty of the marathon is conveyed below.

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So far, Ireland had been kind to us. Now we were about to face The Connemarathon, in one of the most beautiful, remote, and unforgiving races we had ever tackled.

RACE DAY

The whole time I had been in Ireland I was having really weird dreams. Race night of course, was no different. I tossed and turned from 4AM to 7 before deciding to wake.

The whole gang was downstairs having coffee and eating various things. I chose to not eat any breakfast as my race started at 10:30, a decision that would later haunt me. Instead I took down some delicious coffee and prayed to the weather gods. We all hugged Claire (who was racing the Ultra) as she set off.

SIDENOTE: 200 Ultra racers (Crazy ol Claire) caught a 7AM bus for a 9AM start. 500 Marathoners (Abs, Lisa, BoJo and myself) caught a 8AM bus for a 10:30AM start. 2,300 Half Marathoners (Maura, Chris, Aidan and Elyssa) caught a 9AM bus for an 11AM start.

All of us (minus Claire) piled into the Runner Army Elite Assault Vehicle at 7:45 and headed to church. We were late so we missed mass but made the buses.

Personally, I was excited, but I was also in my head thinking hard. What would happen out there? Am I healed? What if my knee gave out at mile 10 in the middle of nowhere? Why did I not eat breakfast?

Arriving out in ‘Da Schicks’ as Chris dubbed it, we saw the Ultra racers on their first 2 miles and actually saw Claire! She didn’t know it, but we were screaming to her.

We exited the bus on a curved section of road. One side led up a steep hill towards the beginning of a mountain, the other side into an icy dark lake. The wind was whipping around from the south and it was quite biting. All of the marathoners were huddled along a ditch where the mountain started trying to hide from the wind. The gals and I tried our best as well, but it was pretty hopeless. As beautiful the landscape might be, it was not very habitable.

I was able to put down 2 bananas while we waited which may have saved my life. I had 2 Gu’s with me for the rest of the race. On a normal day I need maybe 1 Gu but figured today might be different.

Lisa and I went and used the porto-lets one last time and as we returned there was a migration to the ‘Start’ line. All of a sudden the race was just on. The 4 of us started chugging along and guess what… my knee was healed. I kind of smiled at the gals and said I was going to flank everyone on the left and took off.

I started picking up the pace and never looked back. I can’t even tell you in words how excited I was to actually be running, and pain free at that! I had such a SEG on my face and was passing everyone. I wanted to be by myself on the open isolated course. Another thought that popped into my mind was that I hadn’t run further than 13.1 miles and that was 6 weeks ago. I never got a chance to train for the marathon as the doctors told me to stop running altogether. Do or die baby. The mind is more powerful than the body and it was time to prove it.

Miles 1 to 4 clicked of quickly. The aid stations were every 3 miles and only water. This would play a part in everyone’s race as well.

At this point during the race I felt awesome and had pulled away from the bulk of the group. We were now single file race formation 50 feet between runners.

I took a look up into the mountains and the sprawling landscape and thought about how tiny and insignificant we are. Here we are running along an ancient mountain range, a place where time has stood still. A place that will live on long after we die and our children’s children die. So rugged it could chew us up and spit us out, we, the toughest of tough marathoners. Then, I laughed out loud and thought, “If only my Dad could see me now… running a marathon through the mountains of old Ireland.” In my short list of life’s accomplishments (forget things like ‘job’, ‘kids’, or ‘nice house’), running marathons is at the top.

It was right around this moment when I was passing a fellow. He looked at me and in his Gaelic (or Irish language) language and said something. Obviously I had no idea what he told me, I just smiled and nodded my head. What a cool place to be running.

At mile 7 we took a sharp right and headed directly uphill and into the head winds which were clocked at some 40MPH. Things were about to get real. I also ate a delicious Gu, it’s whats for breakfast.

Miles 8 to 10 were this crazy steep downhill. I was now blasting forward all by myself. I looked up at the mountains and the harbor we seemed to be approaching and really took it all in. “This is exactly what I wanted.” I thought out loud. It was as if I was just running these roads by myself in peace and quiet. It was most likely not the best thing for my knee to be barreling down a steep decline, but I was lost in the moment of the marathon.

As the course leveled out around the harbor that we were now circumventing, the 40MPH headwinds made themselves known. From this point on, Mile 11, the race would be one of the most challenging I have ever faced, Ironman included.

Winding around the bend, I could see maybe 2 to 3 guys off in the distance. I wondered had I really got that close to the front of the leaders? I pushed on, not knowing that my energy and enthusiasm to chase would soon fade away.

One really cool aspect of this race was the large expanse of space. I knew the Half Marathoners were poised to start at any moment, so I trained my eyes across the harbor. It must have been 2 miles across, but I could see tiny masses of people moving onto the course. Up ahead right in front of me I saw this gal on a bike riding next to a runner. As I cruised up I realized this was lead female! She was absolutely killing it. I hadn’t seen another female since like mile 2! I gave her some props as I past.

Spectators acting sheepish. Thanks to Elyssa for all the great images!

At the 12 to 13 stage there were advertisements for breakfast for 9 Euro up ahead at an Inn. Guess who had 40 Euro on him? That’s right, me! It was really tempting to take a pit stop but I didn’t. That 40 Euro was also my beer money for the finish line so better spent there anyway.

The Half had started 5 minutes before I arrived so now, as I pushed up a very steep hill, I was at the back of the pack.

This hill was kicking my ass. I was bobbing and weaving through Half Marathoners and trying to hold onto some kind of decent pace. My knee still felt totally fine, but now, having zero training under my belt, it was starting to affect me. Towards the crest of the long hill I heard a motorcycle coming from behind. They had been going back and forth on the course and I had made buddies with one of them by nodding a lot. As it passed it was herding the runners to the left. There was a guy on back and he pointed to me and said, “Follow us!” Oh snap! Do I have enough energy? Sure did.

They cut a real nice path through all the chaos for me and a few other Full racers. Being that they were on a motorized vehicle, I couldn’t keep up for long but by this point things had opened up.

Around mile 16 I came across 4 runners I recognized. As I crept up I yelled in my best irish accent, “Hey you tree runners you, move out da way will ye!” Maura, Elyssa, Chris, and Aidan greeted me with a smile. I hung out with them for a few minutes before taking off.

Mile 18 is where the wheels came off. I ate my last Gu and had some of the water they were serving (only water mind you, no sports drink) and tried to press on. My pace was at it’s slowest here and my quads were on fire!

Mile 19 I was walking. I felt so weak and hungry, I wanted to curl up on the side of the road and sleep. People were passing me left and right and I was ready to throw in the towel. I thought about how far I had come to race in this foreign land. I thought about how lucky I was that my knee felt the best it’s felt in a month and I ‘could’ run. Then, outta nowhere thees young village kids showed up. “Haribo! Who needs em some Haribo?!” You bet your life I want some gummy bears! (bouncing here and there and everywhere.) I must have looked at them with bewilderment as well as looking like I might die because one kid said, “Go ahead now, take them all.”

Never have I shoveled candy into my mouth as fast I did at that moment. 1 huge handful of the most delightful, life saving energy food ever. I looked at the kids and said, “Thanks fellas, you just saved my life!” I mustered up a little willpower and started running. 10 minutes later I was back in action.

I felt pretty good, but not up to full speed of course, as I came into what must have been an aid station at Mile 20 or 21. They finally had some Gatorade-like substance here along with some crackers that I housed. I later found out from the rest of the group that there were no crackers, so either I imagined it or a civilian helped me.

I was just clicking off mile by mile, sending it home. I knew it wouldn’t be my best time, but dammit, I was going to finish.

Rounding a bend and turning back into the open merciless wind, the ‘Hell of the West’ (a notorious 2 mile incline miles 221-24) reared its head. It was actually quite a sight to take in, like the great migration or something. As far as you could see there were runners winding up and around the mountain range. Spectacular and yet wickedly sick all at once.

I began my assent into the clouds accepting of the challenge. I didn’t want to walk, and so I didn’t. Instead I picked up the pace and dug in. I started passing people slowly. There were a lot of walkers. About a mile up as we rounded the bend the hill just kept going. I noticed now that my knee was acting up. I knew it would at some point during the race, but with 2 miles to go I wasn’t about to stop.

At the top of the mountain you could literally see the finish line 2 miles away down in the valley. 2 miles never looked so far. I even thought out loud, “No way that’s only 2 miles, it looks like 5!”

I just held a slow, steady, even pace for the remainder. Coming into the finish with 3:33:00 (my 9th marathon, weird) on the clock. I’ll take it, thank you very much mystical land of Connemara.

After collecting my hardware I made my way to the only physical structure for 5 miles, the hotel and bar.

I figured it would be packed, but it was far from it… for now. Entering the dark ‘hunting lodge-like’ room I at first thought it was closed. Then, to my left I noticed a blazing fire in the old stone fireplace. A young women then appeared from behind the bar, my savior.

“Oh hello. You just ran the race, congratulations. Would you like a glass of water?” I smiled and simply said, “I’ll have a Guinness.”

10 minutes later the room started to fill up and the first of my friends arrived, Maura, Chris, Aidan and Elyssa. We took over a big table and began chowing down and drinking, all very happy to have finished. Moments later Abbe, BoJo and Lisa arrived.

All of us, although happy to be done, were openly concerned about Claire as we had just run one of the hardest and most unforgiving courses. We all started telling our tales of turmoil followed by triumph, some teary eyed. This was no ordinary race, this was truly a battle on many levels.

3 drinks in I caught Claire at the entrance to the bar looking around. I stood up and pointed at her yelling, “WALSH!” She came over and was overwhelmed by all the hugs, bursting into tears. Being one of very few Ultra runners, it was as if a General had entered the bar. People stood and Claire received a big round of applause and cheer. I bought her a Guinness.

That night all of us went out in Galway, celebrating our achievements. I am honored, proud and happy to have such noble and inspirational friends.

I often hear “I could never do that.” in regards to my Marathons or Ironman races. It is my least favorite thing to hear, because I was once just an nonathletic artist, dared to run a marathon. With zero training and a bum knee I ran this race. I’m not trying to gloat, what I am telling non-believer is this, I ran the Connemarathon with my mind, not my body. So what are you waiting for, go pick a marathon.

The Boston Marathon is my Christmas. 

I can’t seem to muster up my usual morning smile and have no pep in my step. The importance of everything around me seems dwarfed by Boston.

After last year’s scorching Boston Marathon, I decided to take a year off and run a race in Ireland. Thank you to all of my family and friends who reached out to see if I was okay, thinking I may have been running.

I was greatly relieved to learn (one by one) that all of my friends in Boston were okay. I wish everyone was okay. I wish that all of those people who worked so hard to get to Boston could have been celebrating today. I am sad for all of the innocent people hurt, people cheering on their runners.

Never before have I ever felt so directly affected by something so terrible. So much so, that I think I’m going to Boston next year.

I met Claire on the Deuce, or 42nd Street if you prefer, and we hopped a cab to JFK. It was a beautiful day for a cab ride. Claire and I shared our insights on whether we were going to run the race in 3 days time. She has a stress fracture on her middle toe and well, my knee has bursitis. Both of us hadn’t done any training in probably 6 weeks, but more on that later.

We found Abbe Lew at yes, you guessed it, a bar. We saddled up beside her and had a few pints while we waited for our host, the Queen of Galway Bay herself, Maura to arrive.

So… we were pretty banged up when we got on the plane. I had never been on a transatlantic flight before so my plan was to use booze as a sleep aid. It worked. It was a 6PM flight so we arrived in Dublin on the following day at 5AM, time traveling into the future. Pretty cool aside from that fact that we would be a mess until we got to sleep that night.

We were hangin tough in the airport until the whole army arrived. Role Call: Abbe, Claire, Maura, Bojana (aka BoJo), Elyssa, Lisa, and Kristina. After renting a van, we took off heading westward! The only time it rained (the entire trip) was right as we were leaving the airport.

First stop, one of Maura’s 7 siblings, Sheelagh’s place, for a hard core Irish Breakfast! It was strictly amazing. 2 kinds of blood pudding, irish bacon, irish sausages, homemade soda bread, porridge, beans, tomatoes… you get the idea.

Once we were back on the highway everyone pretty much passed out aside from our driver, Maura. I tried really hard to be tough, fighting the urge to sleep and keeping her company, but soon I too was knocked out.

Arriving in Galway where Maura grew up, we headed to her family’s seafood business and met one of her brothers. Then, we went to her place, saying hi to her mother who is quite cool and very funny in an irish witty way. We had some time to kill so we went for a ‘Walk on the Prom.’ The promenade is a walkway winding around all of Galway Bay and is truly a sight. Across the bay is County Clare, very majestic with its hills. We also stopped in to have lunch at a local spot in which a few of us had our first of many Guinness tastings. Such a treat.

One of Maura’s very generous friends, Trays, let all of us stay in her house for the duration of the trip! So very sweet of her! After we cleaned up from our long day(s) of travel we hit the town! We had reservations at Ard Bia, a local spot in a cute country home style setting. My meal was absolutely amazing. Even here in New York I would be hard pressed to find something as delicious this. I had monkfish (the special) and seasoned vegetables. I also ate the leftover steaks of both Claire and Maura. My knee was craving food I guess, like some sick monster or vampire trying to regenerate.

Later that night Claire helped me with my math in noting that all of us had indeed been awake for 36 hours.

“Sleeping is easy, waking up is the hard part.” Isn’t that true after a crazy 36 hours of travel? I felt so great on day 2 after a full nights sleep and after eating enough dinner for 3.

We started our day with a morning shake out run along the Prom. It was a beautiful sunny day! My knee was only slightly wonky and I even did a speed drill to test her out. Systems were looking good.

Just to put you in my head… this race had been planned for a year. It takes place in one of the most beautiful and remote places in Ireland and has 3,000 entrants. I really wanted to run, but only if my knee was in good shape. With every passing day it got better and better. I also hadn’t run since February, so with no training my mind was a big ball of stress.

After the run we headed out (with Maura’s youngest brother Chris as our tour guide) to Connemara. We wanted to scout out parts of the course and just get a taste of what we were up against.

Packed into the van and very excited, we as me made our way past the last small village we entered some of the most mesmerizing scenery I have ever seen. Vast stretches of rock strewn fields met with tall majestic rock mountains cutting across the sky. Every now and again there would be 3 to 5 small farm houses at the base. Oscar Wilde dubbed it as ‘a savage beauty.’ Oh, and there were sheep EVERYWHERE, even in the road hanging out being sheepish.

Did I mention it was sunny?

On the way to lunch we ended up driving a bit of the Ultra course which upset Claire. I mean, the course did look very lovely from our perspective inside a moving van.

We stopped at Kylemore Abbey for lunch and to see the castle grounds. Briefly, its story goes something like this… in the 1850′s a couple honeymooned there. Years later the man inherited a great deal of money, returned and purchased 15,000 acres to build his wife a house modeled after a castle. It even has a church and lavish gardens. Its quite amazing. A few years after it was built his wife and daughter were struck ill and died. Since then it has passed hands a number of times. Now, the Benedictine Monks preside over the estate.

After basking in it’s beauty, we departed to bib pick-up, an hour or more away back in Galway.

Pick-up was at Elvery Sports, a local shop, and pretty painless. The single most important decision I made there was to purchase a running jacket. It was a very lightweight windbreaker, ‘wind breaking’ being the key component.

For our pre race dinner we decided to cook at the house and not risk possible food errors. Abs and BoJo made pasta with basil and tomato and a side salad, perfectly delicious.

After dinner Maura, Chris, and Elyssa went out to a local pub but the rest of us were pretty exhausted AND nerve wrecked knowing what battle lie ahead on the fields of Connemara. We had a few beers then went to bed at 11PM.

To be continued…

Ive been reading a lot.

I can hear a few of you, “Baker, that sounds like a bad idea. What if you hurt your knee even more?” Excellent point!

Before we talk about safety lets address the cause of my knee problem. At first, I thought I had injured it from doing a speed workout 1 week prior to the Gasparilla Half. Then, after researching ‘Chondromalacia patellae’ which is one of my ailments I came across an interesting sentence. ‘Skateboarders most commonly experience this injury in their non-dominant foot due to the constant kicking and twisting required of it.’ Oh snap! I looked back at my trusty Daily Mile log and sure enough, the same week I did the speed workout I had skateboarded to work for the first time in months!

My dear Watson, we’ve done it, The Case of the Curious Knee, solved!
Drink Coke, not Pepsi.

I love skateboarding to work. I love running and triathlons a lot more. Thank god the weather has been crap otherwise I would have been really going nuts. 

For the last 10 days I have been icing my knee every hour, on the hour, for 10 minutes and eating Advil as a snack food. I have not done any strenuous exercise aside from swimming and core work. I have been a really good patient, I even skipped a race.

Now for the good news! I just went out for a run as the knee pain is non-existent the last few days. I ran 1/2 of a mile with zero pain! Then, a slight ‘twinge’ so I stopped just for safety sake.

The end is near my friends, I can feel it!

I will, however, not run the Connemarathon if there is pain present. I am coming home with hardware though, so I might just loosen my ego and power walk the hell out of the course! Look out!

I ran the first of these in Tampa at the Gasparilla Distance Classic. I had a nagging knee pain in my left knee but I decided to just run through the pain. Upon our return I decided I better figure out this knee thing.

After some self diagnosis and help from my Sports Med friend Mary, we decided it was probably Runner’s Knee or tendonitis. I iced it and stretched a lot. Just to be clear, it only hurts when I go down stairs, squad, push off for a run or lunge left. Normal day-to-day activities feel normal. The problem with this is that my normal day-to-day activities are about to switch into triathlon training hyper drive as the Spring is near.

A painful decision was made not to run the NYC Half (my favorite Half Mary EVER) and try and heal up for the Connemarathon in Ireland.

RACE DAY

Abs and I met up with Susan, Dan, Ali, Brian, Jess and Lora at Engineers Gate to form Cheer Squadron A. Very elite, we even had cowbells and a foam finger from a Yankees game. Although I was somewhat sad that I was not racing, part of me was happy because it was like 25 degrees which is out of my comfort zone.

I saw many a friend running and destroying the course, which to a New Yorker is his or her back freakin yard what! Erica, Maura, Bojana, Ben, Josh K (demon of speed), Kevin (also a demon of speed), Kelly, Eliz, Eissa and probably a few others that I can’t remember. Way to go team, many a PR was had!

This last week I have been trying new techniques like heating my knee and oh, seeing a sports med doctor! Josh K recommended this guy and since Josh is a pretty serious runner I went.

Guess what? Heating the knee was bad idea. I have bursitis, which to me is better than having Runner’s Knee because its a bit more controllable. “Hey Baker, what the hell is bursitis? Are you going to need a robotic knee with an ipod adapter and built in water reservoir?” I wish kid, I wish. I hate carrying my iPod. Between our bone and our tendons are bursa, which reduce friction between the two. My bursa is irritated and pissed off and needs to be iced. Basic treatment (which all athletes know) is RICE… Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation.

I am very relieved to have some sort of pinpoint on my wonky knee. I also think I know what caused it. A week or so before the Gasparilla Half I was running the bridal path (Kel, remember I met up with you for a few miles) and rolled my ankle. Rather than stop I just ran through the pain. Now, because I was being tough and stubborn I have to suffer, lesson learned.

I have 2 weeks to the Connemarathon and my knee is already almost pain free. This doesn’t mean I’m going to run it, I’m just being hopeful.

As you can imagine I have been very depressed the last 4 weeks and in a funk. To know that running will only agitate your injury makes you crazy. I live to be active, to run, bike, swim, skateboard and really just bounce around all over. It really just goes back to one of my philosophys of why I run. I run to feel alive and because I can. I run for charities to run for those who cannot run. Not that I AM one of the people who cannot run I realize just how much we must cherish our health and the ability to move gracefully across this Earth, with speed, determination and heart.

Go run, because you can.

This year, we had raised $350 in prize money but had fewer competitors. The other rule change was that the prize money was to be split by the 1st Male and 1st Female instead of a ‘Winner Take All’ program like last year. I was hoping this would inspire some of our female athletes, but as of Friday only my friend Elizabeth was in.

After running the back half of the course to make sure all the hot dog carts were there (they were and THEN some) I made my way to the start giddy with excitement.

We met at the bottom of the Central Park Mall, the sight just one month earlier of Abbe and I’s engagement…

After explaining the rules the competitors each bought the first dog, a tradition, eating together. Once someone finished they could take off, and they did!

My goal the whole race was to stick with the leaders to keep track of a potential winner. From the Start to dog 1 of ’7th Circle of Hell’ a 4 dog spree around Columbus Circle, was almost a mile. Matt6 hit the cart first followed by Bo, Neal, Elizabeth, Tony and our last years champ Dave Tao. This cart (it was said later) had the worst dogs. They were dubbed ‘The Brown Dogs’ by the competitors.

Bo and Matt6 took of first so I stuck with them as we made our way around the ’7th Circle of Hell’. These hot dog vendors got really into the race and started cheering us on. It was here that Bo started to pull away from Matt6. By cart 5 he was almost a whole dog ahead of him meaning, in Hot Dog Challenge speak, by the time Matt6 was arriving at the cart, Bo was just finishing his dog. After a few quick exchanges, Bo was off.

I was really excited as we arrived at ‘Dollar Dogs’ because this is pretty cheap for a hot dog. I did my scouting during the weekday so there was a chance that this cart might be a no show on weekends. Matt and Tony were right on Bo’s ass. We found out that Elizabeth was out of the race, making things interesting as now the full $350 prize purse went to the overall winner. That’s a lot of cash.

Bo and I made our way back up to the Park across from the Plaza for dog 7. Some of Dave and Bo’s friends were here cheering them on. This would also be the cart where Matt6 finished the last true hot dog, therefore Tony had to eat a ‘spicy’ sausage! Props and dedication! Luckily they had restocked the cart before Neal and Dave made it to him.

By now everyone was in pretty rough shape. If the wall in a Marathon is the 18 mile mark, then dog 7 represents the wall in the Hot Dog Challenge. Bo was on the home stretch up 5th Avenue with 3 carts to go.

The ‘Zoopocalypse’ cart was at 67th street right by, you guessed it, the Zoo. Luckily, or not so lucky, the cart at 72nd Street was missing so they competitors had to run 67th Street all the way to 79th for the 9th dog. Bo set off at a pretty good pace with Matt6 off in the distance.

The tourist crowds were thick by now and it was getting difficult navigating through the streets. At the 79th Street cart Bo seemed to be in good shape for one last dog. By now we could just barely make out Matt6 about 5 blocks to the South and gaining. I really wanted a photo finish, but Bo had his mind set on a win.

I waited for Matt6 as Bo took off to the last cart to see how he was doing then sprinted on to the Met.

Bo finished his 10th dog in 3.1 miles for the win! Matt6 was just a few minutes behind him, followed by Tony (and his ref Steph) who chose to get a chili cheese dog for his final!

Soon Dave arrived followed by Neal. They had Rachel and Elizabeth reffing and guiding them. Reffing is a very respected job in the Hot Dog Challenge as competitors get pretty out of sorts towards the end and need guidance and support.

We all made our way over to Jack Russell’s for the after party and awards ceremony. Bo, the 2013 champ, went home with $350 in cold hard earned cash!

Congrats to everyone who came out! It’s not an easy race by any means, so just getting to the Start is bold. Thanks to all our volunteers who helped along the way too!

As we arrived in Tampa on Friday, I was immediately struck with joy once we learned the temperature outside. After dealing with 20 degree weather for the last month I will take 80 degrees any day, even if it means running a Half Marathon in it.

My mom picked Abbe and I up from the airport (she and my step-father Richard live here). After acquiring him, we hit the race expo for bib pick-up. I have to say Tampa, pretty impressive expo! All the big names were there and it wasn’t overly crowded or squished together as some (like the Disney Expo) can be.

That night my Mom and Richard took us out to celebrate our engagement. We went to this place called Oystercatchers and filled on some delicious seafood. It may have even been healthy, which is good because we spent the rest of the night up late playing pool and drinking.

Saturday was ‘Beach Day’! We hit St. Pete’s and ended up in this quaint little beach hood called Pass-a-Grille. It was so chill. We had grouper sandwiches from this beach side shack out in the sun. When I retire I plan on opening one just like it in the Caribbean or Mexico, I’ll keep you posted. Nature was out in full effect. We saw egrets, ibises, spoonbills, pelicans and even a friendly dolphin named.

That night we met up with TJ and Bethaney at a bar by my mom’s called Datz. Its within walking distance to both my Mom’s place and Bethaney and TJ’s. Why is that an important piece of the puzzle? Bethaney and TJ are friends of ours who race Ironmans and oh, you know, the Hot Dog Challenge! They just happened to move like a mile from my Mom and were also running the Half. We conspired on the next morning’s race while having a drink before parting ways to buckle down for the night.

RACE DAY

Up at 4:30AM… ready to rock. (Start time was 6AM as it gets hot quick in Florida.) This is the first ‘race’ of the season and quite frankly I am ready to get the season going. Winter is such a buzz kill for athletes in cold climates. Yes, I know all my Colorado teammates bike in snowstorms and are hard core, I just love hot weather.

Coffee and 1 banana for fuel. That’s all for this one.

My Mom and Richard drove us up to the start and then parked to cheer. It was super easy to jog into the corrals. I was worried because they only had 2 corrals for people, Sub 2 hours and over 2 hours, but it worked out just great. People in Tampa seem to place themselves accordingly to their speed!

After a strange rendition of the Nation Anthem a minster gave a prayer for us. This was new to me, but hey it it helps improve my time I’ll bow my head. The gun went off and within 5 seconds I crossed the start mats. There were maybe 300 people in front of me and it was tightly packed.

I DID wear my Garmin. It wouldn’t prove too useful until the last half of the race as it was pitch black.

100 yards out we took a hairpin turn up over a bridge to Davis Island. We had to loop the island (5 miles) then come back over and do an out=-and-back on Bayshore along the water. A very straightforward course with very little room for user error. As soon as we entered Davis Island I began the task of flanking everyone and increasing my pace. I function very well when I have people to chase down.

The first couple of miles hurt really bad and the humidity was making me crazy. I often thought about walking or giving up. My feet were on FIRE and mind you I had on my Newts (MV2s) with no socks. Danny, do you think you can alter the MV2′s design to include some kind of air conditioning in the 014 models? Seriously though, the MV2′s are unstoppable, I wore them every race last year.

Running in the pitch black really reminded me of Reach the Beach, accept I was on overdrive. At each aid station I was taking water for my mouth and my head.

By now I was in single line race formation with my peers and we were holding steady. I didn’t want to push it any harder for fear of not finishing, walking or death by heatwave. I started to just take it mile-by-mile.

Up and over the bridge onto Bayshore, I started feeling good and there was really no one else around me so I was having fun. The guy in front of me was 50 yards out and the guy behind the same. I saw my Mom and Richard (even high fived her) on the way onto the main drag.

Unfortunately, I know Bayshore well. When I signed up for my first running race in 2008 THIS was the place I took my first EVER training runs of like 3-5 miles (in pants)! The unfortunate part is you can see where the turnaround is off in the distance. It is at that point you think, “Wow, it would take a long time even in a car to drive down there.”

I just plugged away as the miles passed, not looking at my Garmin, but easily calculating on the markers my time. I could tell just by the way I was feeling (HOT) that there was no PR today. Even still, I was proud of myself for not quitting and by now I knew I had a finish in me.

At the mile 9 turn around I had some fire in me and increased my pace. We were on the home stretch and I was ready for some breakfast. I was also excited because I could try and pick out my crew!

First I saw Abbe who yelled hi and gave me a thumbs down. I knew she was going to give me a sad face because I felt the heat and humidity too. Then I saw TJ and then Bethaney.

As the last hundred yards rolled around I saw my Mom and Richard (both with cameras) on a median screaming and cheering. It was pretty cool and they had great seats.

I finished with a smile and proceeded to shake hands with a guy who had been 10 paces in front of me the last 4 miles. 6 minutes from a PR, but it was a helluva fun time anyway. I live to race.

I walked along getting my water, bananas and then… whats this? There was a coffee truck giving out cups of joe! I grabbed some coffee from the super nice gal and walked barefoot back down to my Mom to cheer.

Once we all came in we made our way to Brunchery to eat a hearty breakfast!

Great race and great hardware! Pirates=awesome.

That night my Aunt Janice, Uncle Rob and Nana came over to dinner to not only celebrate the race but also the engagement. It was so great seeing all of them and sharing stories.

Thanks for hosting us Mom and Richard!

I will be racing the Gasparilla Half Marathon in Tampa under a sunny sky with temps in the low 80s. The question I have been toying with is… should I go raw and not wear my Garmin?

Last October I went without my Garmin at Grete’s Gallop and came within seconds of my Half Mary PR. Perhaps having a Garmin would have made me push harder?

I leave it to you , the readers, to help me make the decision.

Garmin or no Garmin?

I chose to write about her today as she sits covered in snow, something that is relatively new to her.

Cleopatra’s Needle (misnamed… and having nothing to do with Cleopatra in fact) is made of red granite and was built around 1450BC. That means it’s like 3500 years old!!! So awesome right? We run by this ancient artifact daily!

It was 1 of 2 erected, the other is in London. It took 4 months to move the obelisk from the Hudson River to Central Park where it sits today. The opening ceremony held on February 22, 1881, was conducted by Grand Master of Masons in the State of New York and over 9,000 Masons were in attendance.

Another fun fact per the Central Park Conservancy’s website:

“A time capsule was buried beneath the Obelisk and included an 1870 U.S. census, the Bible, Webster’s Dictionary, the complete works of Shakespeare, a guide to Egypt and a facsimile of the Declaration of Independence. A small box was placed in the capsule by the man who orchestrated the purchase and transportation of the Obelisk. He will probably be the only person in history to ever know its contents.”