What 3 PRs in one week looks like

Welcome to the new look here. This blog is now for my fitness thoughts.
Everything else (Hockey, Comics, Wrestling, Assorted Nerd-dom) will be at Friday Night Tights, whenever Kevin, Marc and I get back to writing. Soon, yes?

Anyhow: Welcome to RunBklyn. I’m your resident snarky asshole and host.

This journey has been humiliating, trying, and the most rewarding thing in my life. I’ve made many more great friends who have helped me along, pushed, prodded, tricked and cajoled me into doing things I never thought possible.

This weekend marked one year since my first race, which was an abject disaster. It was the Take Your Base 5k, and I finished, barely… in a horrific 47:48.

The important take aways there were 2 fold:

1.) I could gut my way through an awful lot of pain, more than i thought I could overcome.

2.) I was way more out of shape than I thought. As the song goes. “I didn’t know I was broken until I wanted to change.”

So I got serious. I joined a gym after telling my Soul Elephant I would never. She was right. I doth protest too much. I have since switched gyms and joined a rec center too, and began consulting a personal trainer… so. yeah.

My diet is still not where it should be, but it’s improved a ton.

My endurance is better, and I’m leaner. I’m down 25 pounds from where I started, and half way to my goal of 185.

I’ve run a dozen or so races this year, always challenging myself. Recently, I’ve made a serious breakthrough, aided by my endurance and a better understanding of my own strengths and limitations.

So, there was the Take Your Base 5K this weekend. And the day before was the Pride Run, a 5 miler in Central park, and the tentpole event of Front Runners New York, the LGBT Running club in NYC of which I am a member. I HAD to do this race. It was so me.

There was one problem. I had tickets the night before in PHILADELPHIA for round 1 of the NHL draft and the opportunity to meet a great many friends at the event. I had to be there, too.

The thing about me is… there are very view ideas too ambitious for me to not take a shot at. I would see the Islanders pick at 5, and after my friends teams picked, I’d depart, grab a bite, and get to bed before tearing ass out of Philly at 3am.

the best laid plans…

It all started according to plan, despite nightmare traffic down to Philly. I met TheActiveStick (FINALLY!), my trio of favorite Caps people, and even got to say hi to Mr. Mullet. We checked out after pick 21! All good.

I was mid cheesesteak bliss with the dearest of friends, Ginger, when we were informed the Isles made a trade. My heart was racing. My beloved team was hockey-ing. They traded up back into the first round to select the biggest lightning rod in the draft, Mr. Josh Ho-Sang. My GM then went defiantly on TV and challenged the media. He was rolling up his sleeves (I had no idea we’d come out guns blazing in Free Agency). This geeked me out too much to sleep. A late night stop at Wawa and I had my pre-race snacks, good to go.

In the wee hours, I bid Ginger adieu and tore ass back up I-95. My car shimmies when it goes 80, but apparently purrs like a kitten at 105mph.

I swung by the office, got the last of my race gear I forgot, and got to Central park to stretch and get mentally ready.

The thing about New York Road Runners organized races is yes, they are insanely expensive… but they are in-arguably among the best organized in the country. What an awesome event.

Mile 1 was me repeating mistakes of my past, coming out guns blazing in 10:43, which is pretty damn fast by my standards. Mile 2, i pulled back and had to scale stupid ass Cat Hill, and it took me 11:55. This is where knowing the Park came home to roost. I knew if I saved it then and now, I’d have more gas in the tank on the downhill that was looming. Mile 3 I turned it back on, 10:56, Mile 4, i was winded, the sleep deprivation was probably a factor… 11:35. I took stock of where I was, saw that with 1 mile to go a PR was in reach and I went for it despite a final uphill that seemed intent to break me. 11:20. 57:05. a 5 mile PR by 12 minutes. I take that. I pondered what tomorrow would bring.

Since my foray into running, I had never attempted 2 races in 2 days. This seemed dumb, I wasn’t ready for this. I wouldn’t have attempted it, but my hockeymom hoodwinked me into thinking she was doing both. How could I say no to one of my mentors? Jerk.

So as I was stretching and pestering her and the kids, I pondered what I’d have left. She’s a cheetah, but she’s nursing a bad injury and pushing the stroller, so I tell her I’m taking off and going for a PR.

My legs were heavy. this was a dumb idea, but what the hell. 11:01 opening mile. not bad by my standards. 2nd mile, i crank it up and get in at 10:51. Third mile i close at 11:13. Interestingly enough, my per mile is faster on what i percieved to be dead legs? Okay. This 5k is a PR too, by just short of 8 minutes, and an improvement of nearly 14 minutes over the same race the previous year. I’m ecstatic.

On the way home i’m glowing over the phone to soulmmate elephant, and she says try a speed trial of a mile. Do It. I point out that November Project’s PR day is this week, and what the hell, I will.

November Project is a fitness community unlike anything I’ve ever been a part of. Hockey Mom dragged me along, and I quickly felt like I belong. It’s such a wonderful experience, and assuredly responsible for my increase in stamina, to a large degree.

So, I feel like shit for the Wednesday NP workout. I’m dead. Legs aren’t firing. I’m cramping. I shut it down early. I will do that during training. I WILL NOT quit a race if I can walk, but I will shut down a training run or session to prevent a serious injury. I was pissed. I told hockey mom. I was angry at myself. I drove to work to check on the staff for a bit, hydrated, and stewwed at myself. Then I walked to the track in my park, in 91 degree heat with a humidity percentage of Satan’s Asshole in the air and decided I was PRing this mile. I got the watch ready to go… then grabbed more water. It was fucking hot. Was this a good idea? No, my legs were DEAD. But what the hell, I’m a stubborn asshole. Away we go.

I did a mile, with no walk breaks. I ran a whole mile continuously, a feat I’d only managed once before. And I did it in 9:44. I FINALLY cracked the ten minute plateau. And comfortably. I sat next to the track drining all my water and cackling to myself. I sent the Elephant a picture of my watch, and got an all caps reply, rare for one so composed. She was beaming. I felt accomplished.

I bite of more than i can chew. I plan, I come back and take another crack at it. I fall down, but I dust myself off and get back up. I’m more resilient than I ever thought possible, and I’m getting better every day.

THREE PRs IN A WEEKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!

Oh and the softball team is 2-0 and my ERA is a fucking 2.50. DEALING!

Catch up with y’all soon.

13 miles in Brooklyn: Passion and Pride

this goes here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JhqyZeUlE8U 

Goddamn, I love that song. 

 

I am a firm believer that people don’t change. They mask what they are, but they don’t change. Brooklyn hasn’t changed either, nor have Brooklynites. 

I’ve always been a straight shooter. I don’t believe in sugar coating things. It’s not my way, nor is it the way of my home, my borough, my people. 

Brooklyn, though it’s now trendy to associate it with Hipster facades, isn’t that. Nor was it the dystopian shithole it was made out to be in the spike lee joints of the late 80’s and early 90’s (Crooklyn, anyone?).

Brooklyn IS everyone. It’s complex. It’s simple. It’s everything to everyone. I could wax poetic about my home for days, weeks, months. I was born here. I’ll die here.  As the warrior poet Taz once remarked “Brooklyn Born, Brooklyn Bred and lord willing one day Brooklyn Dead.” 

That’s the ‘Borough that’s thorough’ in a nutshell. There’s a civic pride here unlike anywhere else. You may not understand it, but you aren’t supposed to. Does the crowd of your local sports team just sing song the name of the locale they play in for the duration of the game? This is where you say #Brrrrrrrroooooooooookkklllyyynnnnnnn.

I’m a runner, I’m a Brooklynite. 

Thus, this race, the Brooklyn Half, spoke to me. My buddy BestWorst had helped me build my distance up to where I was not actually sweating a Half Marathon distance. 

It was amazing to see 25k+ participants in the blocks for a half marathon. This was easily the largest race I’d ever partaken in. It stretched from the perimeter of Prospect Park to the boardwalk of Coney Island.

It was phenomenal to enter the corral repping the colors of Front Runners New York and talk with a bunch of those folks and feel a kinship with NY’s only LGBT running group. 

speaking of kinship: I’ve determined BestWorst and I may have been seperated at birth. 

 

In the 2 hours, 53 minutes and 13 seconds it took me to traverse the course, I had a lot of time to think about various things.

Firstly, I reflected on friendship. BestWorst (who was also running this race) and Kat (who wasnt because she had other race and grown up obligations) essentially saved my life. I am forever in their debt. They took an unmotivated schlub and brought me back into the land of the living, reinvigorating my natural passions for hockey and softball by supplementing them with passions for stuff I swore I’d never care about: excercise and running. 

BestWorst took this weekend as an opportunity to remind me of every promise I’d defiantly made to her and since broken: “I’ll never join a gym, that’s stupid.” “I’ll never run a half marathon, that’s stupid.” Seeing her reaction to actively doing both with me was pretty wild. She reveled in it, frankly.

The leg strength has been the biggest source of my running heading in the right direction. The Arm strength is pretty much for vanity (and softball, which is a mere 3 weeks away!). But those were the first two muscle groups i targeted. I should have started with the core as BOTH my mentors told me, but im a buffoon and have the listening skills of roadkill. 

Anyhow, this leg strength kept me painfree for the duration of the race. i need to build my stamina to take a crack at a sub 2:30 half, but I think I can, and if Thomas the Tank Engine taught me nothing else, belief is the first and hardest step.

I thought about how far these friendships brought me. It was a year ago this month I ‘ran’ my first 5k. It was putrid, painful and I sucked. Now? I’m reasonably certain I can get under 35 minutes for a 5k. That may not sound like much to you, but it means the world to me. In addition to seeing times go down, I’ve seen my distance go up. I can now comfortably handle a half marathon and will before the year is out, tackle my first marathon. This is because I believe in me and what I can do, that’s what every step is built on. That improved self worth and faith doesn’t happen however, without a bedrock of belief from others. These two ladies, Kat the HockeyMom and BestWorst both believed in me when I didn’t want to. I was doing this whole running thing to get better at sports I care about. Now it’s the sport I care the most about (granted, talk to me in 3 weeks when I’m on the rubber and yelling about a strike call i wanted). That belief was a trust, in what they saw being something better. And I’m not at the end of the road yet, because, and this was a hell of a revelation: There’s always another mile to add on to the journey. It doesnt have an endpoint. All you need is a starting point. I had mine, with a friendly push out the door.

 

The second thought that came to me, around mile 8 or so was HOME. The realization that I would pass my house around mile 11. The Brooklyn-ness of the entire ordeal was amazing. The omnipresent Brooklyn Dodger hats. The attitude. The old adage about home never leaving your heart was coursing through my veins. This was magical to me. It also brought things oddly full circle to me, as I ran past the prk i worked in for eons, then my house, then my gym, and ended exactly where that first 5k had a year ago. How far I’ve come… and how far I still have to go.

 

Brooklyn will never, ever be what they say it is. It will always be my home. it’s why i am who i am. everything about this weekend recharged me. The friendship, the fun, the food. Brooklyn is part of New York City, yes, but Brooklyn doesn’t survive because of that. New York does. New York’s heart may be Manhattan and that’s great for them. But Brooklyn is her legs. And the legs feed the beast. 

 

Brooklyn, I love you.

 

PS: BestWorst is my hero and i love her. 

 

 

3 favorite quotes

I’m going to give you 3 of my favorite quotes, and only one of them is from a comic book. I’m as surprised as you.

“Every boy, in his heart, would rather steal second base than an automobile.”

-Judge Tom C. Clark

“I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don’t believe I deserved my friends.”

- Walt Whitman

“They made a fool of me, Balder. They laughed at me. Everybody laughs at Skurge. Hela, Mordonna, even the Enchantress I love. They all laugh at me. Except You, Balder is too kind to laugh at Skurge. But when they laugh, I hurt inside. Maybe even I die a little. Now I think I am dead already. “

- Skurge, in Thor 362, as he decides to make his stand at Gjallerbru.

 

Enjoy.

BST Hosts Utica in second annual YOU CAN PLAY day this sunday 1pm

Look at it this way, what are you doing this sunday that’s more important than supporting a great cause?

You Can…. join the hockey bloggerati and the LGBT community in Bridgeport as your RED HOT (12 of last 14!) Bridgeport SoundTigers host the Utica Comets this Sunday (1PM Puckdrop) for the second annual YOU CAN PLAY night (or afternoon in this case).

Here’s the YCP website if you are somehow familiar with me and my blogging adventures but not with them(?): http://youcanplayproject.org/ 

Festivities will kick off at noon with a q&a panel. Be there.

You can watch future Islanders before they learn to get injured and blow 3rd period leads!

You can watch future Vancouver Canucks learn how to dive… that’s a RIOT!

You can support a great cause. And you should.

Because… If You Can Play, You Can Play!

Support YCP and LET’S GO TIGERS!

 

 

 

GET YOUR TICKETS HERE:

http://www.soundtigers.com/ViewArticle.dbml?&ATCLID=209411220&DB_OEM_ID=22700

Reflections on a race well run

 

“Act like you’ve been there before.” Can’t. Haven’t been there before. This is all new to me. So, while they are still fresh, here’s some things I took from this whole process.

 

1. Training! The most important part of the training isn’t the mileage. It’s the stamina. It’s having the wind to push through. The mileage is almost irrelevant.

2. Mileage! Almost. But not quite. When you’re out there for 13.1 and you are feeling it through mile 8, you just lock in ‘I’ve got this’ mode and that’s when disaster strikes. Suddenly. Painfully. At almost exactly 10.66 miles, a mere 2.5 miles from paydirt, it felt like a sniper blew off my left calf. Pop. And then complete lock up mid stride.

3. Hydrate. Hydration is more than a ‘day of’ concern. I learned this is more a week of or month of thing. Be hydrated to the gills. You will need it.

4. Do the due diligence on the course. This is something I pride myself on but woefully fucked up this time. Know the water tables and rest rooms. Know the hills. Know that bush you can piss in between rest areas.

5. Set a goal. A realistic goal! 3:00 flat was my goal. It kept me focused during the good times and the bad.

6. Calculate the pace you need for that goal. Unlike me, calculate it correctly. I came out guns blazing because I thought I needed to flat 13:00 every mile to get there because I can’t do math. It helped, because I banked time for the midrace wall and inevitable last 2 mile struggle, but how much of that was exacerbated by picking em up and putting em down with everything I had for the first 7 miles?

7. Have fun with it. The whole time, a guy I ended up trading places with the whole race was asking me ‘when does this start being fun?’  And every time he’d ask, I’d push my answer back a mile to implore him (and myself on). Then around mile 11, he said ‘under 3 flat right?’ and I nodded. Off we went. It WAS fun.

8. Get by… with a little help from your friends. Have a posse. Have people there who want to see you through. Believing in yourself is a lot easier when others share that belief. Let them know what you need.

9. DO NOT DEVIATE FROM YOUR NORMAL PRE-RUN ROUTINE BECAUSE IT’S A ‘BIG’ RACE.  Have your normal pre run meal. Wear your normal running clothes. TAKE YOUR FREAKIN MEDICINE. I left my allergy medicine at home because I am a catastrophic moron.

10. Leave nothing back for tomorrow.  You are a weekend warrior. I get it. You have a 9 to 5er to punch in for some hours after the race. Cool. That’s the day to day. The race, the pursuit of self, the seduction of punctuating that impossible dream and shouting down the drone of ‘you can’t’ with a defiant ‘I HAVE!’ demands nothing less than everything you’ve got. It’s your goal. A Half Marathon doesn’t get undertaken lightly. Treat it accordingly with the respect and effort it deserves. Pace yourself, sure, but there will come a moment when it’s time to pedal down and go for it. You will be afforded the chance to seize it. Do so. Apologize for tomorrow when it’s time comes and regret nothing. Pride lasts forever. Pain lasts but a few hours.

Lastly, to ensure that pain lasts only but a few hours? Immediately after the race, hydrate, eat, rest, medicate, ice, heat, treat every injury quickly. Stretch once you warm down. It’ll help. You will feel like death afterward. That’s fine. You just did something borderline superhuman. There’s a price for glory. Now, tend to yourself so you can go get the next one. And there will be a next one.

Then, reflect on the lessons.  Some concerns like illness and weather are out of your sphere of influence, but will impact your race. Just let them be like water off the back of a duck. Do you. And give her everything you’ve got.

 

the week in sportsball: once you go gay…

Big week in the world of sports ball.

 

Michael Sam said it best at the combine: “ I don’t want to be a trailblazer. I want to be Michael Sam.”  And then Rich Eisen and Mike Mayock delivered a sermon from mount truth: “This is no longer an issue. Get it out of your system and let this kid play football.” “He should be moved UP the board for the way he handled this.” “Any organization that red flags him should be ashamed.”

 

Spot on analysis and poised delivery from Sam. Hope a team that plans to properly utilize him drafts him (and not the goddamn Jets).

 

Some quick Olympic observations: USA Men’s hockey turned in an embarrassing medal round. The Women gave it everything they had and had NOTHING to be ashamed of. GREAT effort. Glad US dominated the medal count (other than Russia). Great display of class out of the Russians turning off the scoreboard every time their hockey team lost.   By the way: the run away stars of the Olympics were the duo of Tara Lipinski and Johnny Weir. Amazing.

 

The Dolphins bullying scandal has claimed it’s last pounds of flesh (barring hammer falling on Pouncey). Thank god. Clean that mess up and restore some respect to our broken house.

The Braves locked up Simmons, the Best SS in baseball, Craig Kimbrel, the games best closer, MVP candidate Freddie Freeman and Julio Teheran long term. 2 year deal to oft injured Heyward too. Good if mostly quiet offseason, other than the new stadium bombshell, which enabled the spending spree we just discussed. Now go get it!

Islanders will limp to the finish without JT (who got a well deserved gold medal), Frans Nielsen for the time being, and A-Mac and Vanek who will soon be traded.  Oh well. Time to load up and have the best offseason since I became a fan. That’s the expectation.

 

By the way, Jason Collins is about to take the court and become the first openly gay male athlete in the big 4 US Sports. NBD right? Of course it’s the Brooklyn team breaking down barriers. Somewhere, Jackie Robinson is smiling.

 

Anyway, SHIELD vs WYATTS then Elimination Chamber with Nets game on the small screen. NHL Olympic trade freeze lifts in 3 hours. Expect action. I’m out. Catch ya later.   

The journey takes another step. 13.1 miles worth.

My thoughts are a blur.

There’s a funny thing about running a race. You are up before the sun and done before lunch. As I was driving home, I was reflecting on my race. There were things I need to improve. There were things that went great!

I’m so happy with my result. Firstly, thanks Kathy and Bonnie for pit crewing and getting me threw the race. Also thank Dog for tremendous weather. Well done, Yogi. Way to call in a favor with the big pooch upstairs.

Felt good waking up. Pounded a cliff bar and got some raisins. Got out there, warmed up like shit like I always do.

 

Any time they say ‘this race will positively start on time’… that’s a lie. Once we got rolling because I cant do math? I came out flying. I thought I needed a sub 13m average mile to get under my 3 hour target. I, in short, am an idiot. 12:47, 12:43, 12:56, 12:43, 13:01, 13:24, 12:45. Then the struggle became very real.  13:37. Damage control with 13:20. Then I laid a turd for mile on 11, at 13:48 and almost the same mile at 13:49. Mile 12 was death by the way, at 14:48.

 There were several takeaways! DON’T HAVE A TEN MILE RACE 5 weeks before a half. Space it more, train harder in between.  But that training would’ve been aided by not re-tearing my plantar fasciitis and ya know, the flu, but I survived. I need to hydrate better. I need to keep my sugar up.

8 months ago I began this odyssey to get in better shape for softball and hockey. I began it with one of the worst recorded 5ks in the history of man. 8 months later? My race distance is 10 miles longer and my average mile is 2 minutes quicker. Believe in yourself. Through some hard work, and sage wisdom from experienced friends, anything is possible.

 

now to recover, reflect and learn. Then i improve.

Additionally, I joined planet fitness and have been really enjoying kicking my own ass. I’ve also begun core training with the Karl Gotch bible. Expect a post on Gotch Monday or Tuesday.

 

Thanks for reading.