What I Did On My Summer Vacation

I’ve been suffering a serious case of the summer doldrums lately. You know, those days where it’s so darn hot and humid that the breeze created by the subway rushing into the station seems cool? Where it’s so hot that the icy cold temperature of 80 degrees seems like a pleasant respite? Where taking a cold shower before a run seems like a good idea. Yep – those kind of summer doldrums. What’s a runner to do?

Head to the Midwest!!! Yep, I took advantage of grandma’s free babysitting service and hubby’s board meeting to haul my running shoes out to Wisconsin this past weekend in the (mistaken) notion that humidity does not visit the Midwest. I figured that rolling hills and diary farms would make for a welcome relief from the swelter that the tri-state region has become.

Heading out on Thursday morning at 6 a.m. to beat the traffic over the Whitestone Bridge to LaGuardia, it was a beautiful summer morning in New York – low humidity, decent temps. Perfect for flying. Our flight even pushed back from the gate on time and only sat on the tarmac for twenty minutes. We even landed in Chicago ten minutes early! When’s the last time that happened?

When we stepped out of the terminal, we were greeted with northeastern style humidity. Not what I was expected, but I chalked it up to proximity to Lake Michigan. Wisconsin, that was a different story, or so I thought.

One hour and thirty minutes later, we arrived at Lake Geneva, a midwestern resort town on the shores of Lake Geneva. Our hotel was the Grand Geneva, on the site of the former Playboy Bunny Mansion (my husband spent a lot of time looking for rabbits and didn’t find any, thank goodness). But stepping out of the shuttle, that darn humidity had followed us from Chicago. What the heck?

Now if you haven’t experienced land humidity, it’s different from our coastal humidity. I’m serious, it’s a lot heavier and sits on your chest more then the stuff here in NY. Now think how that’s going to feel out on a run? Hmm. My running plans were changing by the minute. The rain was also playing havoc on what I was going to do. No way did I come this far to hole up on the treadmill at the fitness center. Nope – not going to happen.

After dumping our bags, my husband announced he had some work to do, so I decided to first make an appointment for a massage (hey, I wasn’t going to be able to shop in Chicago, so I had to do something to pump the local economy) and then go out for a run before the massage. Sneakers on, shorts on, singlet and sock on, Visor on, card key in shorts pocket. Off I go – but to where?

The front desk looked at me as if I had lost my head when I asked about running outside, they politely suggested the treadmill in the fitness center. Nope. I asked about the golf course (running on the cart path), which they thought was a good idea, so they called the pro shop to ask if the course was open. It wasn’t, as it had already poured outside and they were still expecting more rain (more on that later). To the course I headed.

Hot, humid and rolling hills, but very pretty. I was on the perimeter of the course as I wasn’t sure how lost I would get and this was meant to be a short run just to get acclimated (which given our weather here, I already was). No one else was out – great I’m thinking, what a fabulous way to get an easy, quiet run in before my killer massage.

So there I am, chugging up a hill around the back nine, heading toward the 12th hole (no one is playing, but the flags are up) and suddenly there’s a golf cart screeching to a stop in front of me with two irate gentleman in it. Who are you? What are you doing here? You can’t run here, this is private property!! I’m thinking to myself – what the heck? Did I wander onto another golf course patrolled by the KGB? Is Obama around? Cheney shooting birds? Huh?

So I explain, I’m running (as if they couldn’t tell, but sometimes stating the obvious is worth a try), I’m a hotel guest, the front desk called the golf club and asked if it was OK, it was, here’s my room card key, etc. No dice. They tell me that running isn’t allowed, even if the course is closed, because you can’t walk the course. OK – call me crazy, but I’m running, not trying to walk the course. I don’t have clubs with me, I’m running. Nope, they don’t get it – they tell me again that I can’t walk the course.

Fine – I’ll cut my run short, can they give me a lift back to the golf shop or the main building? Now this is where it gets comical. No they can’t as they only have a two seater cart. Hmmm, How do I get back to the hotel then, I ask, since according to their logic I can’t run because I can’t walk the course (I didn’t actually tell them that their logic was off, they were bigger then me and had a cart). Yep – they suggested I run back. Huh?

To me this is a head-scratcher – I can’t run on the course (or the cart path) because the course prohibits you to walk the course. The course is currently not open to golfers because the greens were saturated. These guys drove out in a two person cart to yell at me and then tell me to go back to my room using the same mode of transportation as I had started out with – my legs. Go figure.

On Friday, I ran into town and did a loop on a two-lane country road – no golfers, just some flies chasing me. It was sunny, hot and humid. I was thrilled to get back to the northeast and go for my not too hot, not humid, no golfers, no golf carts run yesterday. Home sweet home. - The Gabster

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Queens Half Marathon

Leslie L.

There are races we run for time goals and PRs. This was not one of those races.

On an extremely hot and humid morning in Flushing this past Saturday, I and a group of my Flyer teammates found ourselves at the start of the Queens Half Marathon wondering not about how fast to start or what pace to run, but about how and in what shape we'll finish. Even at the bright and early hour of 6:45AM as we shuffled into our starting corrals, it was already 85°F with a relative humidity of 65.8%!!! (Apparently there was a secret town meeting overnight where the borough was renamed "The Surface of the Sun" just for this race. No one running was made aware of this development until way too late.)

Unlike previous years, where the Queens Half started in McNeil Park, which was small and at least 15 minutes away from the nearest subway exit, this new course starting and ending in Flushing Meadows Corona Park is relatively flat, close to the 7 train and passes by many recreational and cultural landmarks. Since I doubt many Flyers have come as far out to Queens to run here before, I had been looking forward to this opportunity to showoff my park to many of my teammates. But as I stood and waited in the intense humidity, listening to the countless heat advisory warnings from Mary Wittenberg and the NYRR staff, I wondered if convincing fellow Flyers to avoid this race might have been the better move.

At about 7:03 AM, after several anxious minutes waiting for the roads to clear, the starting horn sounded and we were off. The first half of the course took us out of the park and onto an out and back loop on College Point Boulevard. Although this section was probably the hilliest of the course, it was fun seeing friends and teammates both in front and further back in the pack. For me, it was especially fun because I got to run by the building where I live. Seeing the few neighbors out and about with astonished looks on their faces as the runners took to the streets was priceless. Despite water and Gatorade at virtually every mile, it was apparent that many runners were already struggling and some dropping out by mile 5.

Once back inside the park, we ran a semicircular loop around the park, running by the Aquatic Center and the back of the USTA Tennis Center with a small out and back detour on Shea Road. On talking with many Flyer afterwards, this was where many seemed to hit the proverbial wall. The sun was shining directly on us at that point, there was no shade, and at mile 7, we collectively had gone far enough to be tired and dehydrated, but not quite far enough where we visualized the finish. Many slowed their pace dramatically. Others walked. Some decided enough was enough and took a DNF instead. It was getting warmer still and every mile seemed longer than the mile before. Luckily Flyers Laura G., Dan L., and their dog Grady were out cheering at Mile 8 to provided a much needed mental boost.

Runners enjoyed the sights of Queens despite extreme heat.

Turning off Perimeter Road at mile 8.5, we made a 2.5 mile loop around the largest freshwater body of water in NYC, Meadow Lake, before running back into the park, passing by the Queens Zoo and the Hall of Science in the last 5K leading to the finish. By this time, most everybody lost all semblance of pace and struggled in whatever way they can to get to the end. Relief came only at the finishing mat where the accomplishment, for the most part, wasn't really determined by what time you got or what pace you ran, but by the fact we survived the distance despite the heat and didn't end up in the medical tent!

After the race, I met up and talked with many Flyers. As a group, we all agreed that this was the most brutal conditions for a half marathon by far this year (and according to Flyer, Brett S., even worse than it was at the New Jersey Marathon!). The fact that all the Flyers came back triumphant and unscathed speaks volumes to how much our bodies have acclimated to running in heat and humidity due to the extreme summer we're in.

Anick J. at the sphere in Flushing Meadows - Corona Park

Congratulations to everyone who came out to Queens to run this race! Special mention goes to the Flyer Women who rocked out a third place team finish and Christine M. who came in first in her age group. Simply Amazing! It was a strong showing for the Flyers all around. - Leslie L.

Ed. Note: You can read more of what Leslie has to say about the Queens Half and other running topics at his personal blog, The Running Laminator.

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Ironman Me

Scott C.

It’s a morning that I’ve looked towards with a potent mix of excitement and anxiety, it's an ever-constant display of multisport behavior that’s a product of months of training and focus that has lead up to this one very special early morning.

My friends all wished me well in the days before, my family as well, though I suspected an undercurrent of thinly disguised indifference that bordered on the opinion that I am insane.

The pent up emotion, stress, obligations we carry and deal with on a seemingly constant basis now get mixed in with the pre-dawn darkness, the queasiness of trying to keep my breakfast of oatmeal, bagel with peanut butter and coffee down, the eerie early morning calm and the quiet contemplation deep inside of what is ahead today as I head out the door toward the lake, towards my destiny.

I say a silent prayer that I hope this thing will somehow work out for me.

Where has this journey taken me? Where will this journey take me today?

I’m scared.
I’m prepared.
I’m ready.

I have talked the talk for months now and with about a minute to go before I hear the thunderous boom of our starting horn, I will now need to walk the walk....or at least start swimming and sharing precious real estate in this pristine, calm lake with 1,800 other people who, like me, want out of this water and to be reunited with our bikes.

I deserve to be here next to you, fighting the good fight for a little space in crowded water so I can validate my training, my thinking, my own beliefs and convictions, whether they’re good or bad, realistic or beyond expectation.

There are genuine moments of pure bliss when everything works; I've never felt better, never felt stronger! I am supremely confident, I am gliding and I own this swim. There are also moments of chaos, of fear, and there are thoughts of panic that are quickly dismissed and overcome with that sense of quiet determination honed through months of shredding my body, investing the hours in the rain, in the cold and in the heat just to get here today.

And then I can see it, off in the distance, the swim exit that I've had my sights on since the beginning, so I pick up my stride, I have a finishing kick and I use it!

Before I know it, I am being pushed to the ground, helped out of my neoprene body armor by not one but two race volunteers who shout at me to go and run to T1, get my bike, and move quickly to the second discipline.

Five to seven hours is a long time on a bike, but maybe others feel differently. It’s not just about riding but the extraordinary focus it took to keep me on the bike, to keep me hungry, to keep me thinking, to keep me eating, to keep me drinking, and to keep me thinking more.

After the hotfoot, with sweat stinging my eyes, just one more discipline remains: the run.

I try to run and discover that I am a worthless, pitiful physical wreck who would really just like to get into a nice hot shower for three or four hours and lie down for an hour or a month.

But I know all to well that I need to be my own hero out here today and do something really big. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to step up and do something extraordinary, something I know I will remember and hold onto tightly and with pride.

So I run, or would run/walk or “iron shuffle” through the dark moments, the moments littered with an undulating mixture of pain, fatigue, self doubt, and the belief that I can overcome and manage my day and my life in a different way.

I started my day in pre dawn darkness. I started my day with a nagging fear of the unknown, but I did so with a big heart and a deep conviction in my noble undertaking. I was a sense of self determination that I would never trade for anything.

I ended my day in twilight, putting one foot in front of another on a long red carpet. I heard a lot of people screaming. I heard a man with a great thunderous voice calling out my name, but I’m not sure because those last few precious seconds as I crossed the finish line border on the surreal.

The “hurt” was present and even though I knew I was physically running, my feet, my legs, and grueling aches suddenly felt insubstantial. My mind was numb from the hours of intensity and focus an event like an Ironman requires but it’s a good mix. I’ll take it. I can work with it.

And because I can't have this moment forever, I just want to feel this way until it comes time to train for the next one. - Scott C.

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The Flyers Hall of Fame: The Best of Our Best

In 2007, there was talk amongst a handful of Flyer members about assembling a list of the best times in race distances for the New York Flyers. We knew there had been some very impressive club records set in the past, and that some of those records were still being set, but what were they and who were the runners that set them? Could we compile the names, races, and times, and put them on the website, perhaps, like the Fifty State Club? The executive board at the time, led by Chris Morgenroth, approved the idea to collect the times, and launch a "Hall of Fame" page.

However, the task wasn't as easy as anticipated. Frankly, the sheer volume of names and numbers over the Flyers' (now) 20-year history, was enormously daunting. Over the next two years, discussion continued: Which distances? How would we address age groups and genders? What about triathletes? What about Ultra-marathoners? What if the person wasn't a Flyer anymore? And does anyone in the club really even care about this anyway?

Finally, decisions were made by committee, a chart was created, and the numbers began to be filled in. Recently completed, we have the table below. As this is a draft and not yet on the website, we invite all Flyers to send us corrections or oversights. Don't be shy - even if you yourself have a race time that should be on the table, send it in so that we can accurately update the table so as to reflect Flyer accomplishments as the best we can. For now, please send this to either the Secretary (Richard G.) or Blogmaster (me) of the NY Flyers. In the future, once we have this on the website, we will likely have a system so that new times are submitted through Team Captains, who can then verify the results and then have the new record posted through the webmasters or secretary.
A few things to note:

• You must have been a member of the Flyers on the date you set the record. For example, if you ran a 2:15 marathon the year before you joined the club, that time is not eligible for the Flyers Hall of Fame.
• Races outside NYC are included, but all results need to be verifiable -- preferably published in online, searchable results.
• Only the actual race distance will be accepted for the record, not a split time. To clarify, for example, if you broke the record for the 4-mile time while running a 10k race, you do not get the 4-mile record. You must be running the 4-mile race to get the 4-mile record.
• If a race distance is later found to be shorter than the record, it will be disqualified. For example, if a 5k race (3.1 miles) is later found to be only 3.05 miles, it is not eligible for the 5k record.
• Related to the above, if a race is later found to be longer than the record, it will still qualify for the record. So if a 5k race is later found out to be 3.15 miles, it will still be eligible for the record.
• We have only addressed typical running race distances - not Triathlons, Biathlons, Duathlons, or Ultra-marathon distances. For those members who regularly participate in these event, we invite you to step up with fellow members and tabulate results for posting.
• We realize that some people do come very close to breaking these records, and there was initial discussion about creating a top three or five list of best times, but due to the labor-intensive nature of researching and updating these numbers, it is with much regret that the committee decided that only the very best times would be reflected in the table.

The committee and those responsible for this effort include: Sarah D., who championed the idea and back-checked times and names, Dan L., who initially brought this to the attention of the executive board, Eric S. (that's yours truly, folks!) for coming up with the chart format, Eduardo, F., who, probably most importantly, spent many hours poring over the Flyers' historical data and results, and finally, longtime Flyer and 2010 Secretary, Richard G., who also contributed names and numbers from his vast Flyer experience, and vetted the times on the table.

Welcome to the first draft of the Flyer Hall of Fame:

- Eric S.
Editor's Note: Happy birthday to me!

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The Joy of Coaching

A while back, I was given the chance to attend the RCAA coaching seminar in Annapolis (Baltimore) with the help of club President, Glen W. and President Emeritus, Heather Marcellis. At first, I questioned signing up for the course. Glen encouraged me that I would gain much more than I expected. I remember him telling me that in his coaching roles, he sacrificed his own training and speed for the sake of others, and I wondered whether I'd be willing to do this myself.

 I decided to take the course and teamed up with Glen to produce the successful Marathon Training Program (MTP) that Glen had done such a great job from years past and added flair in the graphics within the booklets.  After choosing Author and New York Times Writer, Liz Robbins (A Race like No Other), to participate in the kick off meeting,  our MTP was invited to be among other famous marathoners and great coaches on the "well blog" and marathon web section of the New York Times. This became a great accomplishment in my life -- I mean how many people get to say they were published on the NYT website?  And among the greatest marathon runners, no less?

 It was truly a blessing. Especially during the difficult economic times, when I was furloughed from my job as a junior architect.  I was forced to look for other income - which I received through a coaching job I found with the New York Road Runners Team for Kids.

The 1,000+ group of new marathoners seek guidance and training in targeting their goal on the first Sunday in November.  The dynamics of the group was hardly different than the NY Flyers, where you have a spectrum of faster and slower runners. Do you remember your first marathon experience or your training for your very first marathon? Everyone has interesting questions to ask, and as coaches we are excited by the energy, the curiosity, and the enthusiasm of these newbie runners.



At the same time, my charity group, the Alzheimer's Association, was chosen to be an official charity group for the New York City Marathon.  We received 50 bibs, but our program was not developed in the slightest. We didn't even have shirts! It was a challenge that another coach and I were willing to take. We took on the responsibility with the aim of providing a program and developing a training program to rival larger charity groups such as Team in Training and Team for Kids.  We began by offering group runs twice a week, gave appropriate apparel that only runners would appreciate (such as arm warmers, jackets and singlets) and offered learning seminars to our runners.

The larger challenge was creating a fulfilling experience for these new runners. While developing the training program, I had to ask myself what I felt like when I had ran my very FIRST MILE?  Yes folks, it goes all the way back to the basics.

 You are humbled by how much you can run, train and race as you become more of an experienced runner. Knowing how you start off and what got you started are distant memories. Take some time, think back, and reflect on how far you have come. We often just do the mileage every day and never stop to think about what we have done and how far we have come.

Most of the newbie runners ask each coach, “How many marathons have you ran?” We answer honestly to them the number and what our experiences were like. They are in awe of our accomplishments as a runner, while at the same time the coaches appreciate the “newbies” question because they bring back those memories as a new runner and the excitement of running again. These new runners are so excited to go out, train, and do the work for their goal.  It no longer becomes just a routine six mile run, it becomes a life experience.

As they climb up the mileage ladder and increase the distance they run in training, the build a series of successes that the will have to remember going forward. This is particularly true when they hit that magical twenty miler. Beforehand, if you ask any of them what to expect, most of them say that they just don't know.  They get up early that morning, feeling as nervous as if they were doing the actual marathon that day. But when they start - and then finish - it is amazing to see the smiles and excitement on their faces. Only then do they have the confidence that they can complete a marathon! And it is usually only about a month later when they finally do one.



We take these runners to places that they have never been before: in and out of Central Park, Van Cortlandt Park, throughout Brooklyn and Manhattan, and on the last ten miles of the NYC Marathon -- many places they never ever imagined running.
 Over the course of their training, some form great friendships -- many will continue to be friends for life.  Others, when you ask them why they signed up for a marathon just say that it's one of the items on their bucket list, or they want to do one after a recent life-changing event, or it's something that they just always wanted to do.



In the end, as a coach we know that our own training to run for goal time or PR in a marathon is on hold because we give up our training for others.  We are humbled by the experience, as each and every one of these newbies cross the finish line with a great big smile on their face. 

The real thanks comes in the end. The thank you e-mails of praise that their lives have been completely changed by this experience are breathtaking.  The five-month adventure is an emotional trip for many where they continue to train and run future races, and others continue to participate in group runs with their new running friends. Finally, a few end up group run leaders with the ability to train and give advice to other new runners. No matter where they end up, they will always be that accomplishment under their belt: they've run a marathon and are proud. And with their pride, comes our joy -- the joy of coaching.-Brian H.

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Runner's High. Runner's Bite. Runner's Drunk.

I've become curious about how high-intensity running sometimes impacts me and other runners cognitively and emotionally, but I haven't come across much written about that in the running books and magazines.  So, I'll write today about my personal perspectives and encourage others to share theirs.

RUNNER'S HIGH

People sometimes talk or write about the Runner's High.  Some say they achieve it.  Others, not so much.  A favorite quote of mine from the movie Spirit of the Marathon is by 70-yr-old Jerry Meyers who deadpans as he trains for his latest marathon that “…the only runner's high that I’ve really felt is when I stop running…”

I don't know.  Maybe I've experienced the Runner's High, although I think for me it's been more the Runner's Drunk and sometimes, the Runner's Bite, which I'll also write about.  But as reported in the NY Times, a 2008 study demonstrated that Yes, Running Can Make You High.

In the article, it’s noted that researchers in Germany published in the scientific journal Cerebral Cortex – and I do believe most Flyers subscribe to this journal -- concluded that: "Running elicits a flood of endorphins in the brain.  The endorphins are associated with mood changes, and the more endorphins a runner's body pumps out, the greater the effect."  Hence, the Runner's High.

However, for me, I find that the mood changes I experience from the endorphin rush appear to instead be more responsible for my Runner's Bite and especially my Runner's Drunk.  

RUNNER'S BITE

I've never read or heard about what I'll call the Runner's Bite, but I've experienced it, and I've also been bitten by those afflicted with it, and so I decided to name it accordingly.  I don't think the Runner's Bite has anything to do with Robert Pattinson's character, or any of the other vampire heartthrobs from the Twilight movies, although I'm not certain.

My own version of the Runner's Bite sometimes lurks during long-runs, and emerges shortly after I'm finished when I bite unsuspecting innocents.  It doesn't happen every time, but sometimes after completing a 20+ mile run, I find myself feeling very agitated and apt to snap at folks. 

For example, I noticed that I'd go home after a long-run and bark at my family for no apparent reason.  To combat my bite, now what I do is make sure to eat, and ideally stretch and rest a bit, before I try to interact with other humans.  I find this seems to do the trick for me.

And, perhaps since what goes around comes around, I've also been bitten.  For example, after a recent half-marathon, I spotted a friend, let's call him James, who'd finished a bit ahead of me and was recounting to his wife what had been going through his head during the race. 

One of James' remarks was that he thought about ME during the race, saying seriously that one of his stray thoughts was "Dave is such a jerk" for a joking comment I had told him before the race that I'd made to someone else.  He hadn't realized I'd been kidding, so later on I set him straight, and he felt bad for what he said (good!).  Of course he's not a Flyer – no Flyer would be so rude!

James did apologize, and also explained in an e-mail that I was a victim of his post-race energy and emotional depletion.  He said that his bite was due to his being in an endorphin-fueled "raw" state that he tends to experience when racing, and leaves him somewhat vulnerable. 

James added that he was running way outside his comfort zone, and said "...that's when little things start to bug me.  A car alarm going off by the course, a pedestrian darting in front of me or a runner stepping too close when passing."  And, apparently, kidding comments made by “Dave the Jerk” also can elicit the dreaded Runner's Bite.

RUNNER'S DRUNK

My most common version of an endorphin-enriched Runner's High feels to me like a Runner's Drunk.  Characteristics for me include memory loss, disorientation, giddiness, slurring words, and feelings of affection.  True, at least some of these are normal characteristics for me.  But they become much more pronounced and commonly experience when racing.

This Runner's Drunk is particularly prevalent for me toward the end of, and shortly after, marathons.  But I also get it from intense running during shorter races.

Memory Loss

Soon after finishing each marathon I've notice that I tend to not remember much of it, especially the latter stages.  At a recent spring marathon, I know I had trouble with muscle cramps during the last few miles.  But afterwards I had a hard time recalling what muscles had cramped and over what time frame and how often and when it stopped and why I didn't try to speed up again when they subsided (or did I?) and etc. 

It reminds me a little bit of when my wife was pregnant and we learned about oxytocin, a hormone that among other attributes apparently makes women soon forget how painful it was to be in labor so that they're willing to go through childbirth again in the future.  Is there a marathon-version of oxytocin that our bodies release to make us forget those hard painful marathon finishes?

Disorientation and Slurring

Some may say that my natural state is disorientation, but I believe it becomes even more pronounced at the end of a hard training run or a race.  It's not infrequent that I'll finish a race and get lost inside Central Park trying to head towards home.  Of course I can always ask for help, but that's where the slurring comes in:  

I'mlostandon'tknowhowtogetoutofhere!

Giddy Affection

And am I the only one who wants to hug all of the volunteers at the end of a marathon?  Maybe that's my runner's high, but it feels more like a tipsy after-glow to me. 

One Track Mind

Like most guys, when drunk I can only think about one thing.  The same thing happens when I go hard on a run.  I'm talking about my most base wants, of course -- which are to run better and faster.  You knew I was headed in that direction, right? 

My concentration level gets rather high, and during long runs and races, I think pretty much solely about my running form, pace, hydration, and breathing.  That's about it. 

I don't think I'd even notice running by, or causing, a 10-car pile-up.  And if a runner were to cut me off I'd probably run them down – not out of annoyance but for lack of noticing on time.  Actually, I once barreled over someone who'd stopped a bit sudden at the finish line.  

Does anyone else find it fascinating to examine how our minds work, or don't work, when running hard?  I wonder what others experience. 

So although the Flyer blog entries don't seem to generate many comments (Laminator Flyer, loan us some comments?), I'll invite others to comments back about how your thoughts and feelings have been impacted when you're on the run.  Anyone?

-Dave K

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