Freedom Run 5k

Post-Tang's own version of what I'd assume was the plot of "Eat, Pray, Love", what they (theoretically) don't tell you is that upon return to reality, running again will be tough.  After the half marathon that I half-assed, (side note about that "race": high fives all around from cops and kids in super hero costumes, ran on the second wave like an idiot, playlist chalk full of Boston Calling acts because, I ran it in between the festival: run the jewels, st. vincent, beck, tame impala's "elephant" on repeat for the last mile), the 5k was another gauge to see how far off I had fallen since my two month Epicurean sabbatical.

Still following me?

Of course an 8 day stretch from Hell appeared before this race and personally something came up the night before at the Sox game; par for the course at this point.

So for the first time I would pick my bib up on race day like a rookie at the Cambridge Mall which would be critical in the fact there was a water fountain and bathrooms of the non-portapotty variety.   Friends were met up with, time to warm up for a mile.  With 10 minutes to go, the announcer let us know that massive American flag was the split between, I kid you not, "fast runners", and "slow runners".  I naturally sat in the middle.  It actually worked better than corrals.

With the anthem, all of us shadowed by the flag looked up with our hands over our hearts.  The first mile, with people actually obeying the fast versus slow pace, went smoothly.  All I can remember is this runner making a wide curve around someone to just get ahead by one person.  I made it a point to not lose to him and with my veteran savvy, know that the first mile and a half is fool's gold.  Hang on and the runners fade.

How do I know this? Like always, at mile 2 I faded.  Maybe if I tell myself to run hard for four miles, I wouldn't have this issue.  I also started the dry heaves way earlier than usual at the beginning of mile 2 so I slowed a bit.  Like always, I sped up at the last tenth of a mile and passed three people.

21:55.

Pasta from CPK and 4 beers later, ran a 4 miler home and here we are as I type.


It was definitely nice to know my race course ahead of time from previous excursions and to know how to get there with the T (even directing a kid how to use it)...slowly turning in to a Bostonian?

Freedom Run 5k

After Tang's own version of "Eat, Pray, Love" (or what I assume was the plot of the movie) through Brussels, Amsterdam, Antwerp, Portland, NYC, Baltimore, DC, and a Boston Music Festival (which a half marathon that was half assed was wedged in the middle, stuck in second wave of runners hell, full of high fives from Boston's finest, kids in super hero costumes, a playlist full of Run the Jewels, St. Vincent, Beck, Tame Impala's "Elephant" for the last mile"), the movie poster (theoretically) failed to mention a two month Epicurean sabbatical would result in slower run times.

Still with me?

So a chance to redeem myself of course would happen after an 8 day roll out of a new system at work that was SAVAGE.  Thank God the race as at 9:30, so I could mosey to the T

Jetlagged, cold/flu like symptoms, feeling great

With Europe and sickness swiss-cheesing my lofty forty miles a week pipe dream, I headed home to Barrington to visit Pops.  Originally planning on a 7 miler and 8 miler to get up to thirty miles for the week, I still felt the effects of it all and passed out.  Slumbered hard until noon the next day and finally went for a run.  A little over two miles in to it, I felt better, loose, and with headphones blaring I ran in the direction of an older lady with sunglasses and a big overcoat on talking to me.  I removed my headphones and she just repeats "you make it look so easy! (pause) but it isn't".

That made my week.

I felt sluggish but after that, picked it up and just kept chugging along, seeing strangers waving and smiling (this isn't Boston) and again, it is all the perspective and mind set that you set out the door with. I originally was going to feel out the run and see how far I could get.  With that encouraging sentence from a complete stranger, I felt I was on the hook for ten miles, smiling the whole way, feeling energetic.

Running abroad

After a week in Europe, I noticed some runner-related things:
1) cambered roads=ITB problems.  If I ran there for more than a week, I'd need a foam roller
2) runners here seemed slower, probably due to observation 1.

And I accidentally signed up for the Marine Corp Marathon...numero three, three years later.

Aaron's First Track Meet

While I had attended a handful (a small hand) of cross country meets for my sister, I had never gone to a track meet before.  Enter the 20th New Balance Indoor Grand Prix on the wrong side of the tracks.  In tow was a Rhode Island track kid to explain the intricacies of track itself.  To let us know we were on the wrong side, a car full of kids screaming 'penis!' and that will always be funny to me.

The heir apparent to Kara Goucher as my runner crush is Katie Hoaldridge (UT product) who I saw walking by, unsure it was her since I am conditioned through the major 4 sports that athletes have an entourage surrounding them at all times.

We got to the track real early and as a small venue in comparison to TD Bank, there wasn't a bad seat in the house.  Athletes were warming up, going through the motions, and doing every plyometric known to man.  The pole vaulters either exaggerated their movements or flowed as if it were ballet, then went stiff as a board at the apex of the pole vaulting.  The high jumpers ran at odd angles up to the bar.

The racing was totally worth attending.  There were 5 meet records and 2 world records (2k and masters 3k).  Notables were La Salle Academy winning their relay on a furious last 400 by my friend's running buddy and Brenda Martinez with a hell of a finish to win the distance medley.  What was great was the commentary by my friend, what the runners needed for each lap to break records, when runners were gonna go and try to win, back stories (Will Leer being the only sub 4 miler in Rhode Island and a bro for signing and selfie-ing with the fans), and personal asides as these were guys running collegiately at the same time.  


Best reaction: after a heat for the 60m dash, one of the dashers walks back, stops, pukes near the track, then shrugs his shoulders.

Worst reaction to the best reaction: that happened at 5, we left at 8 and no one cleaned it up.  Gross.

Cool idea: Jenny Simpson, Brenda Martinez, and Emma Coburn heads on a stick to cheer em on.  No Meb? That's sexist

2015

Welcome to 2015, and year 6 of the running club.  As we wave good bye to 2014, I am looking forward to a great year.  How do I get on the right foot?  Break in my Nike Flyknit Lunars going the other way on the Charles River, trying my darndest to get these northerners to wave back.  Along the way, I notice that I am chugging along at a decent clip that can be explained by actually sleeping on New Year's Eve and shoes that have cushion after running in mostly minimalist shoes.  I do not know why I don't go this way more often since there are woods and trail like areas.  At this rate, I would have 4,781.5 miles for 2015.

There is an indoor meet coming up with elites in Boston, decent tickets are $44 and cheap seats are $22 at one of the fastest tracks in the world.  It's in my backyard, why not go?  It's February 7th, www.nbindoorgrandprix.com.

Finally, I have joined a couple of run groups up here.  I have to say I should've stepped my efforts up to keep more of you motivated; their leader gave out Marathon Sports gift cards, I got a sweet Saucony water bottle, and we had pizza and beer.   Mea culpa, dudes.

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?