Mile: 75 (including last night's 8 mile and this morning's 10k run)
Decided to hit up Riverside park for the first time in two years because Central Park is starting to bore me. Trees, rocks, and waterfalls are all fine and good for a hiking trip or a leisurely walk but unless there's some variation, I am not a happy camper! To that end, I went from 94th street down past Chelsea Piers to 14th street and back in ~ 1 hour, fifteen minutes. The views HERE were absolutely spectacular! Almost as good as, if not better than, the Broadway run I did last week If i'm any judge of these things. You had the river reflecting a great sunset at that point, docks that held the Mounted Police station and the U.S.S. Intrepid, (seeing that gave me a HUGE patriotic vibe, I love that ship!) as well as the burned-down tower that's always looked like a great place to explore but is off-shore. That's just describing what was to the right - to the left I saw the UPS headquarters, the weird looking building that David's architect friend designed, the High Line railroad, the West Side Highway, and TRUMP TOWERS! Why does all that excite me? I'm an infrastructure nut - you can't have a functioning city without this stuff, people! Ohh and there was also this cool-looking factory I forget where but you don't see too many of those in NY these days! (Or anywhere In America If the papers are telling the truth) There was so much to see that I wanted to keep going once I hit 14th street, but too much more and I'd've passed out from the heat and strain all this running is putting on my body.
This morning I woke up too late to run outside, but mum let me into the gym where I ran a 10k on the treadmill. I decided 'Hey, I've been trying to best my friend's time for ages, why not give it a go today?' so I oscillated the speed between 8.5, 9, and briefly 9.5 miles an hour to finish with a 43:00 net time. That was faster than my best RACE time! (43:48 according to NYRR) My friend Matt however managed a 42:11, which was my goal for today, but I'm sure I'll catch up in the next week or two. Always good to have both a speed AND a distance goal in mind.
I am NOT looking forward to the 6-miler tonight, my knees are KILLING me! Can't be helped, though, I'll just have to watch my form. The good news is, since I bought a proper hydration belt today, I won't run the risk of heatstroke like I did yesterday. Yay for optimism! (reaches for the Advil bottle)
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Reckless Move
Mile: 61 (including what I did on Saturday and today, which is the subject of this post)
Allright, so I allowed myself a day of rest on Friday after the Broadway run, but I wanted to get back into the swing of things Saturday. Guess who smartly left their running shoes in New Jersey while I was all the way out in Easthampton? Yup... x( but I was determined to be productive somehow, so I decided to run barefoot like the Kenyans alongside my mum. Slow and easy pace, good conversation, and decently paved asphalt meant the going was fine until we hit some privately-owned roads. Ever tried running on broken glass? That just BEGINS to describe how painful the ordeal was. Even so, It was kind of cool to run barefoot and I DID get three miles in that day.
Took another day off on Sunday since I was still shoe-less and a bit sore from the previous day's run. Today, however, I had that URGE to get to it, so I headed for the park to try and break a distance record or two. I drank a bottle of water beforehand, brought one along with me, and polished it off before I began the stated distance; 10 kilometers. I was doing GREAT! Had a fresh new playlist going on my Ipod full of fast-paced music, temperature held steady, and I felt really strong even though I was sweating like CRAZY. After the hill on 82nd, however, things got bad very quickly. I sweated faster but was overheating, running in a haze, and by 90th street began to recognize what was possibly heatstroke. I know that you're supposed to work through muscle pains, stomach cramps, and what have you but THIS was too much. Couldn't even see thirty feet in front of me by that point, the sweat was pouring into my eyes I stopped running and checked my time on the stopwatch;
4 miles in 23:26 minutes
Allright. Fine. Checking weather.com, It's 93 degrees out today in broad daylight. Lovely! This is why I'm titling today's post 'reckless'... I was told not to run when it's above 75 out and for good reason it seems. Provided it cools down tonight, I'll round off my mileage with an 8-miler at a slower pace. If it doesn't: fuhgedaboudit!
Allright, so I allowed myself a day of rest on Friday after the Broadway run, but I wanted to get back into the swing of things Saturday. Guess who smartly left their running shoes in New Jersey while I was all the way out in Easthampton? Yup... x( but I was determined to be productive somehow, so I decided to run barefoot like the Kenyans alongside my mum. Slow and easy pace, good conversation, and decently paved asphalt meant the going was fine until we hit some privately-owned roads. Ever tried running on broken glass? That just BEGINS to describe how painful the ordeal was. Even so, It was kind of cool to run barefoot and I DID get three miles in that day.
Took another day off on Sunday since I was still shoe-less and a bit sore from the previous day's run. Today, however, I had that URGE to get to it, so I headed for the park to try and break a distance record or two. I drank a bottle of water beforehand, brought one along with me, and polished it off before I began the stated distance; 10 kilometers. I was doing GREAT! Had a fresh new playlist going on my Ipod full of fast-paced music, temperature held steady, and I felt really strong even though I was sweating like CRAZY. After the hill on 82nd, however, things got bad very quickly. I sweated faster but was overheating, running in a haze, and by 90th street began to recognize what was possibly heatstroke. I know that you're supposed to work through muscle pains, stomach cramps, and what have you but THIS was too much. Couldn't even see thirty feet in front of me by that point, the sweat was pouring into my eyes I stopped running and checked my time on the stopwatch;
4 miles in 23:26 minutes
Allright. Fine. Checking weather.com, It's 93 degrees out today in broad daylight. Lovely! This is why I'm titling today's post 'reckless'... I was told not to run when it's above 75 out and for good reason it seems. Provided it cools down tonight, I'll round off my mileage with an 8-miler at a slower pace. If it doesn't: fuhgedaboudit!
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Broadway
"Pick a goal of a certain distance to run before the summer's end, in New York, and blog about it."
"Five hundred miles in fifty days."
That's how this started. A short, ten minute conversation in the back of a Taxicab launched my most ambitious project yet. So ambitious, in fact, that I had to start a separate blog just to cover all the content that'll be streaming in as I work through this.
Today's run was, besides the marathon itself, my proudest accomplishment to date. Track and Field season ended less than a month ago, at which point I was only running four miles a day every other day. I was running FAST, be it known, but as an endurance guy that was just too little for my taste. So, as soon as school let out on June 9, I cranked it up to six miles every other day. Two Sunday nights ago I set a definite goal to meet; run an ultramarathon distance of 52.4 miles. Crazy, I know, considering how young I am and how little time I've given myself to prepare -I plan to run it by this December - but ambition has been nothing but helpful so far in life. To that end, I ran eight miles on the treadmill and allowed myself a day to recover before stepping it up again to ten. On Father's day, after going out to dinner in Chatham, I tried to go twelve miles out to a farm but the massive hills and the fact that I didn't know the area OR bother to bring any water whatsoever meant I could only go ten. Allowing myself a day to recover, I was able to go twelve miles Tuesday of this week, and with another recovery day wednesday (pulling only three miles at a slow pace) I was ready to go Thursday morning
My provisions were everything a runner could ask for; Advil taken beforehand along with a cup of coffee, twenty ounces of water, and four FRS (quercetin) chews. A recently bought swiss utility belt held my phone, subway card, emergency money, and water BUT it would cause me some problems later on. Taking the one train up to 218th street, I crossed the Broadway bridge and walked out past the tip of the Island to ensure I was really running 'tip to tip.' Texting my mom 'starting' and pressing the timer on my Ipod, I fixed my gaze on the road ahead and began to jog.
That's right; jog. Not run, not sprint; jog. I'd immediately started getting a pain in my leg that wasn't debilitating but was really working to slow me down. Add to that the fact that I'd never ran with this water-belt before and this wasn't a good start to the race. I kept running, picking up speed as was possible, but I was working furiously to tighten my belt and keep it from bouncing around. I'd been following the elevated tracks at that point to keep on Broadway; didn't work as they disappeared underground, and I veered left to try and relocate it. (facepalm) street signs weren't helping when I approached the intersection as none of them were going where I was, but I'd found Amsterdam so I followed it as best I could. Bad move; it went up a fourty-five degree angle hill some five hundred feet up in the air, or so It felt like at the time. I got a pretty good view of the streets ahead of me, thankfully, and I was doing this for the visuals more than anything else, so I just shrugged my shoulders and got directions from a local senior for how to get back on track. It must have been... 180th street at that point. Very steep downhill at that point, nearly got ran over by a minivan trying to cross the street, but I made it.
At that point, I figured I had to do something to drop a pound or risk giving up the run today. It was hot, sweaty, and the going was so slow that It wouldn't have been worth it unless I could salvage my time; I ditched the PowerBar I had in my pack and took out my water bottle, pulling my belt so tight that a bear hug would've been gentle by comparison. It felt easier to run with the bottle in hand, so I sipped steadily from it and made my way to 96th street where my mom would be waiting. She'd cautioned me about this part of Manhattan before I started the run; no buildings were taller than three or four stories; the (now) elevated tracks dominated the skyline as far as the eye could see. The few people that were out on the streets at this hour stared at me open-mouthed with a look of worry. Were they staring because I was running HERE, because I was smiling broadly as I clutched my water belt, or because I was a stranger? It wasn't unnerving. It was CUTE. I get those same kinds of stares when I run in New Jersey or Texas - people think runners belong solely in parks, I guess.
Around 140 or 130 street I started to recognize familiar landmarks; the skyscraper-tall apartment buildings that my cross country bus would pass on the way to Van-Cortlandt park, recognizable graffiti tags that covered buildings on either side, and in the distance, the silhouette of Riverside church. This gave me a MAJOR mood-boost! I downed the last of the water and picked up the pace as fast as I could manage, texting my mom to let her know I was almost there. The minutes flowed quicker, one into the other, until I was back in the 'city proper' past Cathedral parkway. At 96th street I SPRINTED through the mobs of people stumbling into the subway station, past the movie theater, and into mom's camera as I saw her standing at the corner of 94th right next to our apartment.
It was the marathon all over; I was basically halfway there with six or seven miles done, somewhat dehydrated, but eager to continue. I hugged her and took off that stupid water belt, insisting that it'd only serve to keep slowing me down. She was worried I'd get heat stroke, for good reason, so she made me drink some water she'd brought down from the apartment. I downed half of it in twenty seconds, my ipod's shuffle setting selected my favorite song (Pjanoo by Eric Prydz) and I tore down the sub-hundreds with a fury!
I absolutely FLEW through these blocks; the CVS passed in three seconds, then the Barzini's, the Barnes and Noble at 83rd, the intersection as 72nd street, and the movie theater at 68th, thanks in part to the fact that the sun was hiding behind the buildings. Columbus Circle saw me slow up a bit, but I picked it up some more trying to get past the fifties. Oh, but there there was Times Square. LMFAO blasted its trip-hop as I ran through green and red lights alike, ecstatic at seeing the vibrant colors, buildings, and people clustering around this hub of activity. It was stop-and-go work all told, which took a massive toll on my knees, and once I got into the thirties I felt like it was high time to quit. Trucks and red lights kept forcing me to stop, costing me thirty seconds or more each time, whereas I'd been smooth sailing for the previous hundred-and-fity blocks! Now I was lucky to get three blocks in before stopping, and I damn near got ran over a couple times as I tried to run through the light to keep my momentum up. You can't and really shouldn't be playing chicken with New York City drivers, but I just wanted to RUN, couldn't they see that?!
At any rate, something not quite me would send the impulse to my legs to start running again each time the light turned green. My brain said 'walk' but my body did not obey... why? I don't know but I was thankful for whatever it was, and as I passed the 'teens and onto Houston street it was time to take my reserve Energy gel. Bad idea when I was dehydrated again;(no belt and no water for the past five miles) the normally sweet vanilla goo burned my throat like ACID and didn't give much motivation to keep going. Even so, I was passing through Chelsea and I saw the familiar red Library Tower that meant I was getting close. Press on! It seemed like my friends who lived in this neighborhood were saying through the vibrations. I obeyed. The stop-and-go traffic ceased just as suddenly as it began. Thank you Chelsea!
A few minutes still, I passed Chambers street. The pace increased. Just a little further and.. It..should..be... THERE! 222 Broadway - my mother's workplace at Merill! I phone her and tell her where I am breathlessly, passing beautiful skyscraper after skyscraper. "You've got less than a mile to go!" She tells me enthusiastically;"Go, Cameron, go!" Music to my ears; I take the rest in a full-out sprint as best I can manage. City hall passes and fades, and Wall Street appears ephemerally. Battery park approaches and I immerse myself in it, jogging to the furthermost point I can see. I call my mother again; I have made it! The wind's whipping by, I'm exhausted, but I've made my introduction to this beloved city and It's given me the most fantastic Urban views I could ask for. Truly, there is no place quite like New York. Let me tell you; I've seen a lot and done a lot in the few years i've been on this Earth, but no experience has made me happier than I was at the moment that I went through the financial district. Pure, unadulterated, ECSTACY be it from the endorphins flooding my head or the visuals I was getting. Either way, I really must do that again sometime.
"Five hundred miles in fifty days."
That's how this started. A short, ten minute conversation in the back of a Taxicab launched my most ambitious project yet. So ambitious, in fact, that I had to start a separate blog just to cover all the content that'll be streaming in as I work through this.
Today's run was, besides the marathon itself, my proudest accomplishment to date. Track and Field season ended less than a month ago, at which point I was only running four miles a day every other day. I was running FAST, be it known, but as an endurance guy that was just too little for my taste. So, as soon as school let out on June 9, I cranked it up to six miles every other day. Two Sunday nights ago I set a definite goal to meet; run an ultramarathon distance of 52.4 miles. Crazy, I know, considering how young I am and how little time I've given myself to prepare -I plan to run it by this December - but ambition has been nothing but helpful so far in life. To that end, I ran eight miles on the treadmill and allowed myself a day to recover before stepping it up again to ten. On Father's day, after going out to dinner in Chatham, I tried to go twelve miles out to a farm but the massive hills and the fact that I didn't know the area OR bother to bring any water whatsoever meant I could only go ten. Allowing myself a day to recover, I was able to go twelve miles Tuesday of this week, and with another recovery day wednesday (pulling only three miles at a slow pace) I was ready to go Thursday morning
My provisions were everything a runner could ask for; Advil taken beforehand along with a cup of coffee, twenty ounces of water, and four FRS (quercetin) chews. A recently bought swiss utility belt held my phone, subway card, emergency money, and water BUT it would cause me some problems later on. Taking the one train up to 218th street, I crossed the Broadway bridge and walked out past the tip of the Island to ensure I was really running 'tip to tip.' Texting my mom 'starting' and pressing the timer on my Ipod, I fixed my gaze on the road ahead and began to jog.
That's right; jog. Not run, not sprint; jog. I'd immediately started getting a pain in my leg that wasn't debilitating but was really working to slow me down. Add to that the fact that I'd never ran with this water-belt before and this wasn't a good start to the race. I kept running, picking up speed as was possible, but I was working furiously to tighten my belt and keep it from bouncing around. I'd been following the elevated tracks at that point to keep on Broadway; didn't work as they disappeared underground, and I veered left to try and relocate it. (facepalm) street signs weren't helping when I approached the intersection as none of them were going where I was, but I'd found Amsterdam so I followed it as best I could. Bad move; it went up a fourty-five degree angle hill some five hundred feet up in the air, or so It felt like at the time. I got a pretty good view of the streets ahead of me, thankfully, and I was doing this for the visuals more than anything else, so I just shrugged my shoulders and got directions from a local senior for how to get back on track. It must have been... 180th street at that point. Very steep downhill at that point, nearly got ran over by a minivan trying to cross the street, but I made it.
At that point, I figured I had to do something to drop a pound or risk giving up the run today. It was hot, sweaty, and the going was so slow that It wouldn't have been worth it unless I could salvage my time; I ditched the PowerBar I had in my pack and took out my water bottle, pulling my belt so tight that a bear hug would've been gentle by comparison. It felt easier to run with the bottle in hand, so I sipped steadily from it and made my way to 96th street where my mom would be waiting. She'd cautioned me about this part of Manhattan before I started the run; no buildings were taller than three or four stories; the (now) elevated tracks dominated the skyline as far as the eye could see. The few people that were out on the streets at this hour stared at me open-mouthed with a look of worry. Were they staring because I was running HERE, because I was smiling broadly as I clutched my water belt, or because I was a stranger? It wasn't unnerving. It was CUTE. I get those same kinds of stares when I run in New Jersey or Texas - people think runners belong solely in parks, I guess.
Around 140 or 130 street I started to recognize familiar landmarks; the skyscraper-tall apartment buildings that my cross country bus would pass on the way to Van-Cortlandt park, recognizable graffiti tags that covered buildings on either side, and in the distance, the silhouette of Riverside church. This gave me a MAJOR mood-boost! I downed the last of the water and picked up the pace as fast as I could manage, texting my mom to let her know I was almost there. The minutes flowed quicker, one into the other, until I was back in the 'city proper' past Cathedral parkway. At 96th street I SPRINTED through the mobs of people stumbling into the subway station, past the movie theater, and into mom's camera as I saw her standing at the corner of 94th right next to our apartment.
It was the marathon all over; I was basically halfway there with six or seven miles done, somewhat dehydrated, but eager to continue. I hugged her and took off that stupid water belt, insisting that it'd only serve to keep slowing me down. She was worried I'd get heat stroke, for good reason, so she made me drink some water she'd brought down from the apartment. I downed half of it in twenty seconds, my ipod's shuffle setting selected my favorite song (Pjanoo by Eric Prydz) and I tore down the sub-hundreds with a fury!
I absolutely FLEW through these blocks; the CVS passed in three seconds, then the Barzini's, the Barnes and Noble at 83rd, the intersection as 72nd street, and the movie theater at 68th, thanks in part to the fact that the sun was hiding behind the buildings. Columbus Circle saw me slow up a bit, but I picked it up some more trying to get past the fifties. Oh, but there there was Times Square. LMFAO blasted its trip-hop as I ran through green and red lights alike, ecstatic at seeing the vibrant colors, buildings, and people clustering around this hub of activity. It was stop-and-go work all told, which took a massive toll on my knees, and once I got into the thirties I felt like it was high time to quit. Trucks and red lights kept forcing me to stop, costing me thirty seconds or more each time, whereas I'd been smooth sailing for the previous hundred-and-fity blocks! Now I was lucky to get three blocks in before stopping, and I damn near got ran over a couple times as I tried to run through the light to keep my momentum up. You can't and really shouldn't be playing chicken with New York City drivers, but I just wanted to RUN, couldn't they see that?!
At any rate, something not quite me would send the impulse to my legs to start running again each time the light turned green. My brain said 'walk' but my body did not obey... why? I don't know but I was thankful for whatever it was, and as I passed the 'teens and onto Houston street it was time to take my reserve Energy gel. Bad idea when I was dehydrated again;(no belt and no water for the past five miles) the normally sweet vanilla goo burned my throat like ACID and didn't give much motivation to keep going. Even so, I was passing through Chelsea and I saw the familiar red Library Tower that meant I was getting close. Press on! It seemed like my friends who lived in this neighborhood were saying through the vibrations. I obeyed. The stop-and-go traffic ceased just as suddenly as it began. Thank you Chelsea!
A few minutes still, I passed Chambers street. The pace increased. Just a little further and.. It..should..be... THERE! 222 Broadway - my mother's workplace at Merill! I phone her and tell her where I am breathlessly, passing beautiful skyscraper after skyscraper. "You've got less than a mile to go!" She tells me enthusiastically;"Go, Cameron, go!" Music to my ears; I take the rest in a full-out sprint as best I can manage. City hall passes and fades, and Wall Street appears ephemerally. Battery park approaches and I immerse myself in it, jogging to the furthermost point I can see. I call my mother again; I have made it! The wind's whipping by, I'm exhausted, but I've made my introduction to this beloved city and It's given me the most fantastic Urban views I could ask for. Truly, there is no place quite like New York. Let me tell you; I've seen a lot and done a lot in the few years i've been on this Earth, but no experience has made me happier than I was at the moment that I went through the financial district. Pure, unadulterated, ECSTACY be it from the endorphins flooding my head or the visuals I was getting. Either way, I really must do that again sometime.
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