2014 Somerville Jingle Bell Run

Saturday: Tang's Trip to Somerville.

The packet pick up for my first Boston race was to be at none other than Olde Magoun's Saloon (saloons, the site of all Massachusetts races I've been in. Is this Texas?)  The idea of getting to Somerville from Allston is a fun process of differentiating Plano and Texas.  I am sure a 15 minute drive would be sufficient in Texas to get between these two distances.  Round trip? 3 hours, what with the Red Line of course getting only to Harvard and having to shuttle to Davis Square.  This was found out the hard way as I blasted music and didn't understand why everyone got off at Harvard.  Good scouting.  Oddly enough, picking my packet up of course they hand me a packet for 'Eric Tang'. There may be more asian people in Boston. Bonus points: older Virginian lady was lost on the way back, I (yea, me) helped her get to the Prudential on the right green line.  Of course she knows Plano.


Sunday: As I napped from ??? to midnight, took a sleep intermission with Netflix and The Truman Show, napped for two hours, snoozed to 7:30.  8:30, Griggs St Stop for the B Line to Park St, Park to Harvard.  I knew there was a shuttle so no surprises there.  Due to the race, the Davis Square stop vanishes and now I have to basically walk and follow people who look like runners to the Davis Square stop.

It felt like an away game seeing as how I had to take three different modes of transport.  An hour early, I chill. Literally.  Freezing my butt off, I may be reconsidering running tights.  I was asked by a stranger before transport #3 if I was cold in shorts, I stupidly said there's a race so I'm set.

Portapotty b line at 10 am like a pro, no lines.  Walk around to try to keep warm, started warming up at 10:20.  The corrals were very generous as they had an 8, 10, 12, 14, 16, and walker sign.  Bostonians seem to have mastered this idea better than others as there was definitely less weaving.  This'll be a short race report as the 5k course started up hill, rolling throughout, and was a simple four turn quadrilateral of a course.  The first mile was a mixture of warming up and getting caught in a 7 minute mile motorcade of runners (whatever that would be called).  The second mile was just more of the same.  If you haven't stalked my log, I have been pounding out 10 milers so mentally I know I had the endurance.  What I lacked was the next gear as mile 3 was basically cruise control.    

Unofficially, 5k  at 21:37.  Was expecting more but only a month and a half of consistent running and some soreness from doing so.

So what do I do after the race?  Ran 11.4 miles around town.  Why? Partly to work out frustration, part glutton for punishment, part OCD as that puts 41 down for the past three weeks.

Night Rider

After my third go round with yoga at Coolidge Corner (this time, a beginner class) aka find what is misaligned in my body, I felt re-invigorated what with the steal of the century that was going on at the New Balance Factory close by plus a family and friends discount (thanks Channel).

70 bucks no lie: minimus's, two pairs of shorts (making it an even 5--how I only had 3 pairs before...), and 3 pairs of performance socks.

So invigorated that I snoozed until 5pm and ran at 6pm breaking in that gray pair with a utilitarian zipper pocket for my T pass (just in case) , credit card, and keys.  My friends, I can tell you with no lie that night running in Boston is amazing.  The sheer lunacy of it being a "cold" 50 degrees, the understanding nod you have with a fellow passing runner, a sliver of the moon hitting the Charles with the skyline and Citgo sign animated, changing leaves appearing out of the darkness thanks to purposefully put in lights and Phantogram's music starting up, all to the tunes of my playlist of 5 years of running...all in one run-on sentence.

And for those of you that have enough of this earthy-crunchy granola post, in honor of me not having cable and a certain show about the dead meandering about, I swear all Bostonians walk with a glowing block in their hands, walking like the dead, and don't look up as a 6 foot tall man comes running towards you. I'm sure I have been guilty of this too but come on.

Hartford Half Marathon Round 2

Before:

Heidi "Are they going to cancel the race if it rains?"

Aaron :typical Aaron facial response to incredulous statement:

As the great Amazing Race of a weekend began, I ran from work to Ruggles to catch the train to Providence to be picked up by Rhode Island Hospital crew, as half of the car has left RIH.  As we made our way in record time to Hartford, the GPS by way of iPhone died 2 miles before our destination.  In a car with a charger.

As we arrived all within ten minutes of each other, it was time to eat only the healthiest before a race; wolf down pizza (yeah, Aaron Tang ate pizza) and Gregg's carrot cake.  Once the food baby remorse began, we laughed over the 8x11 picture of my license used to pick up my bib and packet (because there's rampant robbing of packets?).  We also introduced Brian to the world of Snapchat, having our own twenty-first century version of a fireside chat, with "tooting" and stereotypes drawn in on pictures of us.

It was nice of 3 Rhodies to come say hi to everyone and leave before midnight.  The downside being no Without Limits and getting 5 hours of sleep.

In my second year of this growing tradition, the Waldron ride to the race was overcome with typical locker room talk whenever four males joke around.  Whatever was discussed, the most important word to come about from the meeting of the minds is "crotch rot", apparently a term from yesteryear that needs to be brought back.

An hour to go before the race, I had to see a man about a horse to drop off all the pizza and carrot cake I ate.  Thankfully as my Dad pointed out, lines are all the rage and I as a keen observer walked to the side of the portapotties with no one waiting.    

Oh, did I mention it was raining and in the high 30s, low 40s?  Froze my butt off with my signature Tang running shirt.  In the clutch, I kept on my Rangers hat to shield my eyes from the rain and my Nike Gloves and Honey Stinger, to hopefully avenge last year's dropped glove (RIP first Nike glove).

During:
My mindset was honestly to enjoy this as much as I can.  1:50, ok by me.  The first mile per usual was at a crawl at 8:27, and it hit me all at once.   My iPod cycled through Temples' album and a song Dan introduced me to and my mind clicked in. Talking to Pritesh, I had the revelation to be here, now, in the present enjoying this race.  Through a couple yoga sessions, my breathing improved and I was relaxed. And whenever the slightest incline or hill popped up, I channeled Knapp.  For the first time, I looked ahead during most of the course and I do not really remember the runners around me, instead running from group to group.

Fluids.  The second water stop almost was a trap as a kid had a white cup with Gatorade to which I tossed out of eyeshot to not hurt the kid's feelings and to not hurt my gut.  At the next one I tried a hook shot in honor of Dirk trying to add that to his repertoire.  Like Dirk, still not ready for primetime.

Despite running tangents I had traversed .08 mile more early and ended .13 mile over 13.1.

At mile 5, I saw Brian and ran together for a quarter before he had to drop due to his insane marathon and sub 6 5k he ran within the month.

At the halfway point I pulled out my Honey Stinger packet and was semi-surprised that the honey crystallized.

Like always, if I feel great I just wanted to get to mile 10 and see what I had left for the final 5k.  I kept calculating times and grew more optimistic as 1:45 was within reach.

The last miles didn't have afterburners but 1:45 was in the bag as my fellow runners and I puddle pointed to let runners behind us know.

1:43:32.  Not really much of a gag reflex.

After:
Brian's Dad per tradition waxed poetic about past athletic achievements as the two Boston hopefuls in their family walked ahead.

After race meal?  Tried Korean barbeque for the first time.

My core was sore, legs were fine. It wasn't until that night that I awoke to killer left calf cramps.

My first driver of the day noted that the weather this weekend was great but rained JUST during the race.

Ran the final 5k of the race sans iPod. Didn't miss music that much.

While at Park City Cafe, I lamented over the fact I left my phone at Brian's while they had a Baptism.  Moping over chocolate milk, I get a tap on the shoulder and who should be there? Brian with my cell.  Oh and the cousin of two fellow first time runners let me borrow an Iceland travel guide for my trip next month to Iceland.

Sweet swag, one of the best shirts I have gotten in a while.

TMI: I don't sweat often so I knew with the constant rain, there'd be a chance of chafing. Yup.  If it was  a full, would've been full blown Andy Bernard.

For next time, bring nip tape.

Hard Reset

This far in to 2014, all I can say is that after May I have been reeling running wise, call it runner's block, call it a proverbial funk, call it what you want.  Piling miles on, taking breaks not due to injury but trying to possibly break the funk.  As of today, I (hopefully) found my way out.

How, you may ask yourself.

Well, my first time trying yoga.  I know, I know, as effeminate as that may sound, I gave it a go since
a) it was free
and
b) it was free

so what did I have to lose?

Sans mat and wearing socks (kindly being told to remove them), I faked my way through an hour on the roof top with faux grass.  Aside from the fact two male residents decided to sit on the opposite end of the roof and leer at the female yoga-ists (that's a word...also a good plan), it relaxed me.  The hip loosening poses (mainly pigeon pose) which I did many moons ago felt like the Tin Man getting a shot of oil at the hinges.  The focus of breathing, the melting in to the roof, the exhale and gaze at a perfectly blue Boston sky may be the shot I needed to get back to running well.

After dinner,  I had to run.  My legs and hips haven't felt this well in a while and more importantly I felt I was able to take in twice as much oxygen.  Who knew stretching and relaxing could help?

Narragansett Bay Half Marathon

This is not a race, I repeat, not a race report.  This was a dress rehearsal for the half marathon in October.  This was a preseason game.

So what did I learn?
Don't pack 5 minutes before leaving because I forgot my honey packet for the midway point and my contact lenses.

The English emcee does it all as he was at packet pick up at the ever conveniently located Rhode Runner (with wife manning the t-shirts?) and indubitably emcee'ing.  Sick shirts since there were no sponsors on the back.

I didn't run the Rock n' Roll half but I assume it was the same path, even down to having some bands on the course.

Running three in Barrington the afternoon before, there were wild notions of 1:45 but that was soon corralled when I woke up at 5am.

I got to the start (or what I thought was the start) at 6, plenty of time to enter the stadium and bump into the kid with the most thankless but important job; stocking the men's bathroom with non-1 ply tissue.  I
had to pee all race but my politeness kept me from pulling to the side and peeing on a tree (which there were plenty of spots to do so as I imagined myself doing it multiple times).

Twenty minutes before the race it was announced that the half started in the streets.  And ten minutes before, we were told to stand on the other side of the banner.  This must be a Rhode Island half marathon tradition.

As the English emcee talked about how Rock n' Roll had abandoned Providence and how they quickly organized this, the play button was hit on the CD version of the National Anthem (maybe this was the first time I noticed, but did previous races have runners that clapped when the CD hit the high notes?)

We passed by the golf course that was the beginning of the bike path, turning left and running on...the road and not the bike path.

Only half was on the bike path, wasn't too hilly save for the beginning when you go up the street parallel to the bike path in East Providence (that I randomly ran up a couple times) as you head towards Bradley Hospital and the hill right towards the end where we used to park when we ran this path.  

The course itself was pretty ho-hum save for the neighborhoods in Riverside that face the water.  Somewhere in the 'hoods, an orange shirted runner and I almost got run over by a car so we sarcastically bonded over that.  The only other vet move was watching out for Gatorade in non-Gatorade cups.  From there on out, Brett the chiropractic and I paced each other, using the better half as our carrot on the stick.

He was in pursuit of a blue tanktop runner so I told him to chase her and he took off.  Somewhere around 8 and 9,  I caught up as he told me to go ahead.  I said that this was just in prep for another race.

As we ran towards the old parking lot of the path, I couldn't help but want to stop like the walkers that hit the wall.  I still had that incessant brain versus heart face off where the brain tells my body it's ok to walk at the end.  Much easier when the gas tank isn't on E.  Oh there was one more hill going back up to the stadium.  Approaching the stadium was odd since I didn't know how much was left.  We hit the track with about .2 miles to go.  As my body still somehow knows when it's time to give up and yak (no gag reflex this time!), I was instructed to go after the guy in front of me which I obliged as always.

1:52:37.

At around 75-80% effort.  I had some left in the tank as I was able to muster a relatively devastating kick that would've fit in at a 5k.  As I passed a guy right at the end as we finished in the stadium, I sprinted to the dismay of the announcer as she knew I didn't throw it all out there today.

As I got my customary medal, the chiropractic let me know I was rabbiting for him, 5 seconds behind the whole way.  Then he went to check on his patients in the race, so Rhode Island.

My yellow Nike Frees which led me to my 1:40:45 half last year are retired after this race.  Yellow shoes do pretty well for my PRs; note to self on the next splurge.

1:45 for Hartford.

With a week to go until the Gansett Bay Half, I have definitely pounded pavement on the course.  Problem is, I feel as prepared for this as my first half what with moving, changing jobs, and having less energy and motivation to run more mileage.  I have been trying to maintain 25 miles a week.

As team bookworm Knapp lent me his book, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, (which I devoured this weekend), I found myself reflecting on two things:

1) the ebb and flow of motivation is definitely real, just like what the author went through.  I just don't know when I will be back to 100% gung ho about it.

2) 36 miles a week ain't too hard the way he says it.  Just an hour of running six days a week.

Today's long run in Barrington in preparation for next week began bare-chested per usual to the surprise of my dad.  Not sure if it's because I've put on a couple lbs or the weather was pretty cool in the morning.

Three miles in, I found myself in Warren and scanning the basketball court right next to the path.  It looked like someone had left a basketball right next to the court and since it was early enough, I took a detour from my run to shoot around a bit.  RUS. TY.  I don't think I've shot a ball in years.  But it was nice to just mess around.  On my way back, the ball disappeared ... did I imagine it all or did the lady ahead of me toss it in to the woods?

Anyways, I continued on my easy pace since I ran 8 Saturday morning and did leg work for the first time in forever so my knees felt a bit odd.  I decided to take the path all the way, thinking maybe I can hit 16 today in some OCD-ridden way to 30 miles for the week (on 3 days of running, a no-no).  I forget after passing Colt State, there's only another mile or so until you reach the end of the path in Bristol so technically, house to the end and back was 12.80 miles.  But it is so pretty down there, definitely worth the run.

On the way back I decided to make a pit stop at Colt State and ran in to what I thought was a race since there were volunteers in red shirts and trophies on a table.  Turns out, there was a car show today.

The pit stop was hit right on time.  Water fountain for rinse and repeat.  Bathroom surprisingly had automated everything.  Runners, note this stop since it's one of two stops I have ever seen on this path.

So next week, staying alive and finishing a race will be my main goal.  Once I move in to Allston, I will only have a month until the next half.  Then I'll get back to ramping up mileage in preparation for 2015.

Half way point

With all the changes happening around (another duo on the team engaged, congrats to Pat and Lauren) I find myself chugging along and we are half way through 2014.  I think that I have tried to maintain the status quo but I will be making more changes geographically (hopefully) and as a consequence, the two halves I'll be doing this year will probably not be sub 1:40 but I hope to maintain 1:45 shape as I seem to have hit a glass ceiling on 30 miles for a week.  How are your runs going this year?

Marriage

Congratulations to two members of this team, Srilatha and Andrew (aka Knapp) on getting hitched!

Like after any day, I went for a jaunt through East Bay since I was in town (as was my Pops a week early for Father's Day).  The ABC's of today's ten-er:

Aesthete

At this point, the dreamy notion of getting faster and faster year after year has been met with resistance aka life and reality.  Running is more to keep myself aesthetically pleasing than athletically pleasing.  But East Bay on a great day as today, it doesn't get any better than this.  Aesthete recognizing aesthete (that's a word, right?).  One weekend, I may even stay in Boston during the weekend and (gulp) run long.  It's like that first time I moved to URI, I didn't want to be left alone to fend for myself.

Bird shit and begging

The path begged and pleaded for a ten miler instead of a measly nine and I like usual caved in.  So as part of the aesthetically pleasing part, I decided to run shirtless in honor of the trailblazer of doing so, Knapp.  Well, Mother Nature shook her finger like Dikembe Mutombo and bird crap came raining down on my parade.  Well played, well played.


Children

I conducted another waving experiment and I've come to the conclusion that anyone my age, female or male, will not wave back either out of sheer horror of my shirtlessness or of some innate competition.  Anyone older or with children of their own have lan 84.6% chance of waving back.

Del's

Rhode Island.  Don't go changin'.  I just need to bring some money for that frozen lemonade.

Energy

It seems as though my energy is back after a tumultuous May and hopefully June and on will be a bit more calm.

Half Marathon make up

After two weeks in Dedham, it was nice to get some home (Rhode Island is home?) cooking and see (randomly) folks I haven't seen in a while and experience nice weather in Barrington.  So living in a dearth of miles in Dedham, I went from 6 miles to 13.1, Colt State and back.  While not anything spectacular, it was nice after a 3 week funk since the half marathon DNF.  The futuristic knight I saw at the end made my week as a motorcyclist had a medieval sword on his back.

DNF Report-4th Cherry Blossom/Navigant/ Pawtucket Half Marathon

The conditions were perfect, 50-60 for the temperature.  Sunny with a breeze.  I am unemployed for two weeks.  I EVEN remembered my running shoes this time.  What could go wrong? Famous last words.

Pick up was on Saturday at Rhode Runner with the infamous black bag of stuff after a trip around Barrington with my landlord/friend.  At least this time around the shirt seemed the most normal (a white shirt).  The day was going swimmingly, I slept Friday night from 7:30pm-4:30am.  

I went out for a quick 4 miler and came back to a bit of alarming news personally that threw me for a loop.  Like, forgetting to eat dinner before a half marathon loop.

The night before I oddly did NOT dream about missing my half marathon which should have been warning sign number two.

Oh, Knapp is sitting this one out.  Warning sign number three.

The first half I decided to run at 7:30 pace and go from there.  It seemed like I had used all my reserves on the hills (which should've been warning sign number four; last year I remembered only one hill but this time had my butt handed to me).

By mile six, the rails came off, the hammys got tight, and the wall was hit.  Not the same Magneto-bruise inducing wall (a different story for a different day).  I tried holding on and hit mile 8.5 where I, in dramatic fashion, unbibbed myself, took my watch off, and my Tang Clan Running Club t-shirt since I was basically disrespecting it. Very much like Andrew Bynum in the 2011 playoffs.

I imploded, exploded, ___ploded.

Walked to mile 10, dicked around and could only muster an 8 minute pace before my hammys felt overcooked.

At around mile 12, I walked off the course and walked to my car to change and eat a whole chicken.

I did not pass go, I did not collect 200 dollars, I did not collect my medal.  Contemplated tossing my bib.

OK, ranting over, objectively:

Lessons learned from this race:
-the treadmill times are not to be taken literally.
-DNFs are OK if you hit the wall?
-EAT THE NIGHT BEFORE

The ten mile race pace run this past Sunday was to be in preparation for a hopeful shot at the half marathon top spot on this team.  After the past two days, all that is left is the course record for Pawtucket. Why is that?

Brian Waldron, ex-resident, threw down a 1:29:02 Sunday, and as for the Southie connection of our team?

Some great times, guys!!!

So my Sunday run turned in to what I'd equate to Shooter McGavin trying to swing for the fences like Happy Gilmore.  I blew up after 2 miles trying out 7 minute pace.  

It's Pat Henderson's world, we're just living in it.

11th Annual Nutrition Fuels Fitness 5K Race Report

As I was reading past race reports as advice to myself from the distant past, I have come to one conclusion: there is never a lead up to a race where things are going easy.  Job change, moving, licensing, oh and lack of sleep the past 3 nights.  I finally got a haircut and J. Crew socks for my swan song out of Rhode Island Hospital.  Ok, time for the race.

Why am I doing a 5k sans Andrew Knapp?  Last minute, a co-worker (Dan) enlisted me for to the Tuesday Night Turtles group, in need of a third to run for team awards.  My given goal was to run a 23.

I would pack for the race and to run an errand afterwards the day of.  I GPS'ed my way to the horse portion of Goddard Park...and then finally made it to the park on my intuition (like a man).  As I parked, I saw my backpack for all my stuff and ... wait, my shoes are ...
on my table.

In Providence.

Because luck has been on my side recently,  Dan slept late and was able to find a pair of 11's from a roommate.  Clutch.  I was in boat shoes until 15 minutes before the race.  Cardinal sin much? No new gear right before the race, but it was old gear so...:shrugs shoulders:

Dan gave me a heads up on the course info pre-race to help me feel a little bit at ease.  The beginning started too quick, near 6 minute pace so I let people pass me as I tried to stick it at 7 minute pace with a nice looking runner in front setting the pace for me.  Towards the middle of the race, the pacer for myself unwillingly became my rabbit; the man in green and sun glasses.

We faced a bit of wind so I tucked in behind until the wind broke (har har har) near the 2 mile mark and tried to make a move and pass the pacer.  He shot back and was about 5 to 10 seconds ahead for most of the last mile.  Two younger runners came out of nowhere before the bridge and as I saw Dan cheering me on, I had to put the after burners on, passed one of the younger runners, and JUST squeaked in front of the 60-69 year old pacer who said great race as I (hopefully in not a smug way) told him thanks for pacing.  The younger runner who did beat me by 2 seconds came in 2nd in our age group.

A "cool down" 2 miler off road with the number 2 and 3 runners from the race = continue race pace.  This is what it must feel like when I bring new runners in to the fold; barely able to keep up as these two were speaking in tongues of other tribesmen who run trail races or ran in high school/ college.

So what did my late entry bring?  48 Samuel Adams's and peanuts.

Yeah.

As third in my age group at 21:34, I got a 10 dollar gift certificate, a glass water bottle, teas for PMSing, and a pink shirt aka soccer mom gift basket.

Notes:
I at least remembered my iPod that was actually charged for once.  Been real finnicky as of late.

I am now a Tuesday Night Turtle??? Fees paid for by the head honcho who didn't want the free hooch because he brews his own.

Four Horsemen

Today's long run started in the house of the (future) Knapps.  A bridal shower was taking place today at the (future) O'Brien residence.  And I will be hurdling my life north to meet the fastest today (Pat), traveling even further from Texas.  Boy, time flies from when this was taken:

Together, we combined to cross the Rhode Island border (~48 miles combined today) on an extremely rare long group run.  The picture above might have been the last long group run, that rare.

And while the first paragraph reflected much change in our twenties, some things will always stay the same; fantasy baseball talks, friendly voicemails, temporary outdoor public restrooms, and a general disdain for cyclists and quite possibly, other runners outside our own.

Ten mile

The snow and ice had finally broken after a winter to be forgotten in terms of outdoor mileage.  While the temperature hit, in my opinion, the sweet spot (40-60), the sky would offer us no sunshine and only another dreary backdrop.

Today's agreed upon distance was 10 miles on a back and out on East Bay Bike Path.  As the years have gone by (five, yes, five years) since we started this experiment of running, it amazes me that we continue to soldier on.  In the length of a Hollywood movie (1:32), Knapp and I combined for 20 miles midday Wednesday.  The question persists, why are we doing this to ourselves?

While our reasons for running may be different (racing for dear life versus respite from life), one thing is clear and that is I find motivation from Knapp, who revealed a yarn that motivates him that I may also use to fuel my runs.  I never would have entered two marathons and 99% of my races, and dabbled in weight lifting were it not for him.  One thing for certain is that this synergy that happens hopefully continues another five years and beyond.  

Like the Beatles (and subsequent Beatlemania) arriving to America 50 years ago, the infancy of Tang Clan Running Club arrived this month a whopping 5 years ago.  A lot has changed since, faces have faded and some have gotten stronger.

It has come to my attention that our responsibilities are starting to heat up and age is catching up so I feel as though this 5th year is big.  Time to see what we are made of before we become slowed down by Father Time (along with Mother Nature this year).

Personally, I'd like to go through two successful training plans this year to get faster while adding some muscle thanks to the inspiration of Knapp (or the Incredible Hulk) post-pull up bar destruction.  In the midst of training cycle one.  Ten plus months to go, let's see where running takes us.