admin – Page 10 – BEYOND DEFEAT

Guardian angel, or bus driver?

Posted on July 5, 2013 by admin

Posted in All, Fitness, Training: Cycling Leave a comment

Today I opted for a bike ride instead of a run. Why? Because I wanted to go inspect my city and see what was shakin’ in all corners.

Riding through city streets means I take my track bike as its indestructible. My tri bike would be destroyed with a single door to the frame.

Down Fifth, through Times Square then over to the speedy Lexington. To Park and through Union Square cutting right into the West Village. Tribeca and on into SoHo before heading east to yes, the East Village. Waving to the shuttered Nino’s Pizza with respect as I cut north. Things were going great and I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

Making my way up Park Avenue to begin my return trip my chain popped as I was at 18th Street. To those of you unfamiliar with track bikes, when the chain pops you now have zero control over the bike. There are no brakes and no gears, it is a single drive train, purest form of the bicycle. My right foot jolted out of the clip when this happened and I teetered right then left. I purposefully brought myself own to the right, bracing my fall with my hands and swinging the bike with my still attached left foot to my front like a brake dance move.

I detached my left foot and picked up my bike, inspecting it. My right shin was on fire, I must have had part of the bike smash in it.

As I turned to face traffic there was a bus stopped right behind me. The driver was like, “Hey man, you cool? What happened?” “Yea man, the chain popped! Could have been worse right!?” He replied, “For sure. How’s the knee doing?” I told him my knee was fine and that my shin was what got banged up. “Thanks for looking out man!” I yelled as he continued up Park Avenue.

I pulled my chain back onto the drive train and made sure the bike was seaworthy. Since my shin was killing me I decided I’d ‘walk it off’ a bit.

At 24th Street I decided it was time to get moving again due to my thoughts of lunchtime. I cruised steady, but very easy making sure I had complete control of the bike. Since Grand Central as totally blocking me from continuing north on Park I busted a left and then a right onto Madison. On a normal day Madison is a death trap for bikers, but it was a quiet holiday.

As I approached Carnegie Hill I popped off at 92nd Street, 1 block from my apartment. I started walking when all of a sudden I heard a double tap beep behind me. I turned around and at the bus stop was my bus driver! What? He gave me a thumbs up sign like, “You good?” I laughed out loud at him and I threw up my arm with a thumbs up. He sped away and gave a fist pump into the air!

Hell yea New York City.

RACE REPORT: 092 Pride Run 5M – 31:04

Posted on July 1, 2013 by admin

Posted in All, Fitness, Race Reports, Running 4 Comments

Pride Week in NYC is always a bit crazy and fun. There is one factor that seems to remain the same every year… the heat!

My stupid knee was acting up all week since I thought it a good idea to skateboard to work Monday. After all my super sleuthing in trying to figure out where my knee tracking originated I think skateboarding is my final conclusion. Its a pretty jarring activity for the knee and leg in general. I guess I’m retired. Who wants a skateboard?!

My youngest brother Jeff decided to run the race as well. He made it into the NYCM lottery and so I advised him to get familiar with race protocol and run a few small races for the experience. We had an easy run over to 102nd street as I gave him a few pointers about positioning and some ‘do’s’ and ‘don’ts.’

We linked up with Erica, Robert and Antonio before entering the corrals. It was overcast and didn’t seem too hot, for the moment. The energy in the crowds was great. People really enjoy this race and you can totally tell.

Baker Bros aint no joke!

We bid farewell and good luck to Jeff as we (Robert, Antonio and I) entered our corral. I think I have spent 75% of all race starts next to them. A little fist bump and then the gun went off.

We set it off at a pretty quick pace to start. We were easily pushing a 6 minute mile or quicker. Since my knee felt great right off the bat I just went with it. Making our way up the west side of Harlem Hill I had Robert flanking me to the left and Antonio pulling away up ahead. It was still pretty thick as thieves but beginning to thin out as Harlem Hill took its toll on some runners.

Water was all I really cared about. The sun had come out and it was blazing. I grabbed two cups at the first station, drinking one and pouring the other all over myself. I immediately felt better. Onward!

I had no idea of my pace as I was running ‘naked.’ I figured we were rocking along somewhere in the low 6’s. By now Robert was ahead of me by 1-2 seconds while Antonio was ahead of him by 1-2 seconds. I was hurting pretty bad. Not my legs, but my internal engine as I really haven’t been running that much, especially speed. Just hang on…

I have never been a fan of this particular course due to the left turns on 72nd Street. They are both like 45 degree turns and I feel as though I slow down tremendously taking them.

I finally caught up to Robert and joked with him, “What the hell did Antonio eat for breakfast, he’s cookin!” Along the Engineer’s Gate straightaway I saw Grace and Megan cheering. After saying hi to them they reprimanded me, “Stop talking Baker, you should be running!” Indeed. Next, I saw Abs who took this pic.

I saw Erica 500 meters from the finish who was snapping some pictures. I hammed it up as usual.

I finished in 31:04. It’s off my PR by 40 seconds or so. This makes me really happy. All season I have been healing my knee and doing 1/4th of the training I was doing last year due to it. To pull off some decent speedwork is a great sign AND I beat my 5M time from 2 weeks ago by like 16 seconds!

Sex/ Age	Bib	Overall Place	Age Place	Finish Time	Pace/ Mile	AG %
M35	662	96	14	31:04	6:13	70.16%

Jeff cruised in shortly after we did. He rocked a 7:14 pace which is impressive for his first race.

I was hanging with Robert and Antonio when this older runner came up and said, “Hey, I see you out here running all the time. You must do triathlons too? Figured I’d come say hi.” His name was Pat and we chatted about our races before he headed out. THIS is what makes our sport so great people. Don’t be shy out there. You know as well as I do that you run by the same people over and over again. We are all one giant Runner Army. Say hi.

RACE REPORT: 091 Portugal Day 5M – 31:20

Posted on June 17, 2013 by admin

Posted in All, Race Reports, Running 2 Comments

This race, The Portugal Day 5 Miler, would mark my return to running. My knee has been doing great but this would be a test to see if it was ready to take on speed again.

So how does one train for the Portugal Day 5 Miler?

For Susan’s birthday we headed out to Citifield to watch the Mets take on the Cubs. Susan (and Bojana) are from Chicago and both have birthdays within a day of each other so the timing was perfect. Upon arrival all of us stormed the hotdog vendors as we were famished. Others in attendance from the infamous Runner Army squadron were Abbe, Bojana, Meghan, Erica, Kelly, and Neal. It turns out my friend Ahern happened to be at the game too so he came up to the nosebleeds and sat with us!

It was a really fun time even though the Mets got clobbered. Susan and Bojo were happy.

Back in the city we decided to ht up Pony Bar to keep the festivities rolling. I had a plate of fried pickles. So far my nutritional choices for the day were sub par.

Next, a group of us went to grab sushi for dinner. Even though I love me some sushi, it is not on my pre race meal plan, but I ate it anyway.

It was a really long day. I was in bed by 11PM and slept hard.

RACE DAY

When I woke up I felt like I had been hit by a bag-o-bricks. The good thing was, I had no appetite or urge to eat since I had gorged on crap the previous day. I was fueled up and ready to go!

On my easy run through the Park to the start I ran (ha) into Elizabeth and Juan! They guided me to my destination.

My start corral was a mob scene! It was a Male Team points race so all the speedsters were out in force. The girl who sang Portugal’s national anthem and ours had such a beautiful voice. As she sang in a foreign language my mind totally drifted out of thought and I had this weird nirvana kind of moment. Space Case!

Every time Peter Ciaccia is giving final instructions I laugh out loud imagining Matt6 impersonating him to a tee.

The gun went off and we blasted through the start like a stampede of cattle. Running a 6 minute pace as a packed group of runners is tedious business. One wrong step and we go down like dominoes. I also try and watch guys up ahead in case they go down.

I saw Josh cheering to my left immediately. (Thanks for the awesome pictures!)

The first mile clicked off really fast thanks to it being so crowded. We were pushing 6-6:05 pace which thrilled me because my knee was fine! For the first time in 4-5 months I was running fast. I had a huge grin. Even though this run was going to kick my ass (because I haven’t done any speedwork) I was going to enjoy the moment.

That first water station couldn’t have come sooner. I was so thirsty.

As we hit the north part of the Park it started to thin out. Miles 2 and 3 came by and I could see my speed slowing. Hold it together for 2 more, that’s all its going to take.

Abbe was at Engineer’s Gate giving some cheers. I also saw Elizabeth and Juan again as they were in the cheer squad for the Whippets. Then, I saw Lora cheering, as well as Josh again. SO great seeing a barrage of friends out there helping you!

I cruised through the finish with a 31:20. I was so damn psyched to be racing again. I felt amazing.

Sex/ Age	Bib	Overall Place	Age Place	Finish Time	Pace/ Mile	AG %
M35	805	206	40	31:20	6:16	69.6%

RACE REPORT: 090 Rev3 Quassy OLY – 2:51:09

Posted on June 7, 2013 by admin

Posted in All, Race Reports, Triathlon 1 Comment

My first triathlon of the season was to be the Rev 3 Quassy Half Ironman.

I met Jim from ‘Dad Posse’ at his place around 3:45 on Friday. After packing up the gear and loading the bikes I was told, “You’re driving, I have to do some work.” Sweet baby jesus! The last time I drove an automobile was 1 year ago at the Reach the Beach relay, so although excited, I was also nervous.

I don’t think we broke 20MPH for the first hour of the trip. How anyone commutes in a car in the Tri-State area into Manhattan is a mystery to me. I would be a mess. We even saw an old man crossing the street almost get whacked by some crazy guy driving like a bat outta hell. Everybody, lets just take a deep breath and bring it down a couple notches. It’s gonna be alright.

On the ride up I decided that I would attempt to switch from the Half to the Olympic for a few reasons. Many of you know I have been going to PT to fix my knee tracking issues. It has been successful, but I haven’t run over 6 miles since February. I have raced the Half at Quassy before and really had nothing to prove anyway. You’re crazy if you think you can PR on those hills. The rest of the gang (Jim, Mike, Gio and Ann Marie) were racing the OLY so it would be a lot more fun to race with the group.

Big ups to Revolution 3. They put on a fantastic race every time and this weekend I got a taste of their ‘behind the scenes’ service. The gal in charge of registration, Kelly, informed me that all I had to do to switch races was get a new swim cap and tell the timing people. She gave me my cap and then another gal at timing queued up their computer system and swapped out my info. Easy! (I did of course take a hit monetarily as the Half was slightly more expensive, but that’s fine…)

My spaceship – ready to fly.

We left the race area and headed toward Waterbury, where our hotel was and where we needed to pick up crucial supplies. We stopped at a Riteaid. Jim and I were laughing at how ‘laissez-faire’ we had gotten. Both of us had no food for the next day. So… I picked up some microwave oatmeal.

After stocking up on goods, Mike, Jim and I headed over to City Hall, the restaurant where we ate last year. Sure enough, there was live music in the outdoor area! I had my staple, Shrimp Scampi and a couple beers. My allergies have been kicking my ass this week so I was not in my usual ‘stay up late the night before a race’ mode. Therefore, we were in bed by 11 or so.

I had the strangest dream where I awoke at 3AM (with 2 hours to spare) and met my friend Alex. We went to Art College together, MICA for those curious, and I was an Art History minor. Alex took me to some architecturally famous church that we toured for an hour or so. I told him at 4 that I should probably head back to the hotel so I could grab an hour of sleep before the race.

RACE DAY

I REALLY woke up at 5AM and I felt awesome and ready to rock. The gods smiled upon us this day, as my thoughts trailed back to the 2012 race where it was 45 degrees and a torrential downpour. On this morning, the sun was shining, and no matter how hot it might be I was happy.

It took me roughly 5 minutes in transition to set up. The rest of the time I just spent eating my oatmeal and smiling, chatting with my neighbors. Since being injured I have been practicing a very different philosophy called, ‘Nothing to lose.’ It’s all about ego and practicing it on a super challenging course like Quassy is perfect.

In the last 4 months all I have wanted and wished for was to run again. Not just run, but run with heart like an animal. Today’s race would see how I had progressed, with my PT 2 times a week and running maybe 4-6 miles at a clip. I was excited! So ‘Nothing to lose’ means simply, be happy you have the ability to race, no matter what the outcome. Try it.

After a quick practice swim in the PERFECT water (it was 68 degrees and drinkable as far as a New Yorker is concerned) we hung tough on the beach. I watched Jim, Mike, Gio and Anne Marie go off. I started 10 minutes after them which was kind of cool because for me it meant 2 waves wouldn’t be swimming over me half way through.

Gun goes off and I’m dead middle. I start my swim the most cool and relaxed I have ever started a swim. Chilly Willy… focus on form. I did just that for the first 1 third. I had a few folks busting into my space but this crowded swimming stuff doesn’t phase me anymore. I pushed a few people away and just kept my face guarded from any kicking.

As we rounded the first turn buoy all hell broke loose. It was like 100 people getting lost at the same time. We were swimming directly into the rising sun, a seemingly romantic proposition for a heroic tale like Odesyus. I could see nothing but a giant blast of light, blinding me to the affect of having to look away. “Fuck it.” I said and just followed a bunch of feet.

Imagine the swim course as 3 sides of a square, we were on the middle of the parts and personally, I was slowing down without definite direction. I am really good at sighting, but that slows you down as you have to lift your head out of the water. So, if you have no idea if you are headed the right direction, sighting takes place more often and form goes to shit.

At the second turn buoy I had to bank hard left to make it. I had cut too far inward and now had to make up the difference. Very similar to when I swam from Alcatraz and almost got lost at sea, but this time we were in a docile lake.

Finishing up the last third of the course I knew my time wasn’t my best but guess what, I was racing and that’s all I cared about.

I was 585 out of 717.

Running up the chute some young guy looks at me and yells, “East 83rd Street baby!” I looked at him, puzzled, and said, “Hell yeah, represent!” Before my current and very permanent East 93rd Street locale, I had lived on 83rd Street.

T1 was smooth and I was on The Morrighan (aka: Quintana Roo Ilicito) in no time and very happy. I love biking and really just wanted to enjoy the ride. It took me awhile to warm up but I was soon aero and gaining on my competition.

Right around mile 1 I came across a familiar bike. It was Mike! He was racing his first ever OLY so this was a big deal. After a quick exchange I realized he was in good shape and he urged me to carry on. And so, I did.

If you have ever raced Quassy (this was my 3rd time) you know that the hills are unrelenting. There are basically no straight aways. Its a 5MPH uphill stretch (your lowest gear) followed by a 45-50MPH chaotic downhill. Rinse and repeat. Can you maintain the stamina to run off the bike? I saw many who could not later on, only because they pushed too hard on the bike.

The course is beautiful. Rolling hills (which I have already mentioned) and stone walls, old farmhouses… it’s picturesque. If only you could be on these roads in a vintage Lincoln Continental and not a human powered bicycle. I really watched myself on the biking due to the knee. I pushed it, but at a 75% level, all smiles.

25 miles happened fast, but I was right at the point where I was ready for it to be done. The beauty of the Olympic Distance.

Millions of thoughts pouring through my head as I transitioned. “How would my knee feel racing, not running. Would I have to bow out at some point. Was there a beer tent at the finish?” All of these important factors.

I was 321 out of 717. I had passed 264 people on the bike, but it didn’t feel like it as my mind seemed to be in another place.

As the run began my knee had what I would describe (on those forms) a dull pain. 1 or 2 on a scale of 10, and so… I ran.

Right around Mile 1 I saw a familiar face, it was Jim! Do not be fooled by Jim, he is a sick athlete. I may have him on the run, but he crushes me in the swim and the bike is always a toss up. We chatted politics and what we were going to eat later before I headed out.

I was running naked (in fact the whole race) so I had no idea of my pace. Sometimes it’s good to go out like that. I always think to myself, “What did Dave Scott do?” They hardly even had color TV let alone satellite watches. Sometimes you need to throw science out the window. Whatever happened to just setting it off and going for it anyway?

That’s what I did on this day. I wasn’t breaking any records BUT I hadn’t run that far in the last 2 months. Having a watch on would have totally bummed me out, instead I just hung on for survival as it was 95 degrees out. Every mile just clicked off. At every water station and poured water down my shirt and over my head.

I walked none of the brutally challenging course, holding onto my breath and my mind. It was hard.

Finishing the last mile I thought of Sonja, who had coached me through my first 2 Ironmans, a friend and also a warrior. “I owe her a little homage.” I thought. Sonja does these awesome jumps at the end fo her races, so I decided I was going to do that in honor of her.

Rounding the finish chute I let some of the guys in front of me get ahead and pass (totally unlike me!) With a clear shot of the finish I busted my aero move, only to find out it worked!

Sex/ Age	Age Place	Overall Place	Swim 0.9M	T1	Bike 24M	T2	Run 6.2M	Total Time
M35	40	219	35:20	2:28	1:25:29	1:29	46:14	2:51:09

Satisfied, I rolled to the picnic area to find Gio and Anne Marie. We waited for Jim, then Mike, then we parted ways. Mike and I went back to the hotel to get cleaned up in a record 20 minutes. We left shortly after to return to mighty Manhattan.

Congrats to all my friends and teammates who competed! Big thanks to Kompetitive Edge who hooked it up with the amazing new Tri Kits!

#BostonStrongNYC

Posted on April 25, 2013 by admin

Posted in All, Fitness, Running 1 Comment

On Monday, there was a memorial movement for those who suffered in Boston.

#BostonStrong

In respective cities across America, people organized large group runs with everyone wearing Boston colors, Boston themed signs… you name it, to show support for Boston. Pavement Runner began the movement and my friend Abbey organized the NYC group.

There were well over 300 runners and 2 or 3 news stations covering the event.

Abbey, Abbe, Claire, Caroline, Elizabeth, Sharon, Jeremy, BoJo, Maura, Erin, Elyssa, Paddy, Allen, Josh, Erica, Lora, Jess, Jocelyn, and my new friend Michelle were just a handful of my runner peeps I got to see.

Sharon, Claire, Caroline and I were part of the ‘Walker Committee of Injured or Pregnant Representatives.’ We went once around the lower loop watching in awe as all of the many runners decked out in blue and yellow streamed around the Park. We ended at Tavern (which is where we started) to ‘Power Arches’ and loads of cheering.

In the grand scheme of things the attack in Boston was an attack on the citizens of the United States of America, not runners. In the grand scheme of Baker, not only was my country attacked, but my community of amazing athletes that I have the honor of being friends with. People who raise money for charity by running. People who raise kids while training for a marathon. Speed demons who defy the laws of nature and best of all, senior citizens who own the right to call themselves ‘bad ass at 80.’

As marathon runners, no one cares what you do for a living. We don’t care how much money you make or how big your house is. We want to know how hard you pushed those last few miles, in agony and pain, to break 4 hours. You either get it or you don’t. I feel like my family was attacked and it really hurt, so getting out to run and show that we are strong as a community was just what we needed.

Thanks for organizing Abbey!

RACE REPORT: 089 The Connemarathon – 3:33:00

Posted on April 19, 2013 by admin

Posted in All, Race Reports, Running 5 Comments

Due to the horrible tragedy that took place on Marathon Monday, I have been holding off on posting this as I felt it wasn’t appropriate. I wrote it before Boston. This has deeply affected me and I have been walking around in a daze for the last few days. The Marathon is test of human spirit and will power, it is what I live for and what now defines me. Hopefully, the meaning and beauty of the marathon is conveyed below.

—

So far, Ireland had been kind to us. Now we were about to face The Connemarathon, in one of the most beautiful, remote, and unforgiving races we had ever tackled.

RACE DAY

The whole time I had been in Ireland I was having really weird dreams. Race night of course, was no different. I tossed and turned from 4AM to 7 before deciding to wake.

The whole gang was downstairs having coffee and eating various things. I chose to not eat any breakfast as my race started at 10:30, a decision that would later haunt me. Instead I took down some delicious coffee and prayed to the weather gods. We all hugged Claire (who was racing the Ultra) as she set off.

SIDENOTE: 200 Ultra racers (Crazy ol Claire) caught a 7AM bus for a 9AM start. 500 Marathoners (Abs, Lisa, BoJo and myself) caught a 8AM bus for a 10:30AM start. 2,300 Half Marathoners (Maura, Chris, Aidan and Elyssa) caught a 9AM bus for an 11AM start.

All of us (minus Claire) piled into the Runner Army Elite Assault Vehicle at 7:45 and headed to church. We were late so we missed mass but made the buses.

Personally, I was excited, but I was also in my head thinking hard. What would happen out there? Am I healed? What if my knee gave out at mile 10 in the middle of nowhere? Why did I not eat breakfast?

Arriving out in ‘Da Schicks’ as Chris dubbed it, we saw the Ultra racers on their first 2 miles and actually saw Claire! She didn’t know it, but we were screaming to her.

We exited the bus on a curved section of road. One side led up a steep hill towards the beginning of a mountain, the other side into an icy dark lake. The wind was whipping around from the south and it was quite biting. All of the marathoners were huddled along a ditch where the mountain started trying to hide from the wind. The gals and I tried our best as well, but it was pretty hopeless. As beautiful the landscape might be, it was not very habitable.

I was able to put down 2 bananas while we waited which may have saved my life. I had 2 Gu’s with me for the rest of the race. On a normal day I need maybe 1 Gu but figured today might be different.

Lisa and I went and used the porto-lets one last time and as we returned there was a migration to the ‘Start’ line. All of a sudden the race was just on. The 4 of us started chugging along and guess what… my knee was healed. I kind of smiled at the gals and said I was going to flank everyone on the left and took off.

I started picking up the pace and never looked back. I can’t even tell you in words how excited I was to actually be running, and pain free at that! I had such a SEG on my face and was passing everyone. I wanted to be by myself on the open isolated course. Another thought that popped into my mind was that I hadn’t run further than 13.1 miles and that was 6 weeks ago. I never got a chance to train for the marathon as the doctors told me to stop running altogether. Do or die baby. The mind is more powerful than the body and it was time to prove it.

Miles 1 to 4 clicked of quickly. The aid stations were every 3 miles and only water. This would play a part in everyone’s race as well.

At this point during the race I felt awesome and had pulled away from the bulk of the group. We were now single file race formation 50 feet between runners.

I took a look up into the mountains and the sprawling landscape and thought about how tiny and insignificant we are. Here we are running along an ancient mountain range, a place where time has stood still. A place that will live on long after we die and our children’s children die. So rugged it could chew us up and spit us out, we, the toughest of tough marathoners. Then, I laughed out loud and thought, “If only my Dad could see me now… running a marathon through the mountains of old Ireland.” In my short list of life’s accomplishments (forget things like ‘job’, ‘kids’, or ‘nice house’), running marathons is at the top.

It was right around this moment when I was passing a fellow. He looked at me and in his Gaelic (or Irish language) language and said something. Obviously I had no idea what he told me, I just smiled and nodded my head. What a cool place to be running.

At mile 7 we took a sharp right and headed directly uphill and into the head winds which were clocked at some 40MPH. Things were about to get real. I also ate a delicious Gu, it’s whats for breakfast.

Miles 8 to 10 were this crazy steep downhill. I was now blasting forward all by myself. I looked up at the mountains and the harbor we seemed to be approaching and really took it all in. “This is exactly what I wanted.” I thought out loud. It was as if I was just running these roads by myself in peace and quiet. It was most likely not the best thing for my knee to be barreling down a steep decline, but I was lost in the moment of the marathon.

As the course leveled out around the harbor that we were now circumventing, the 40MPH headwinds made themselves known. From this point on, Mile 11, the race would be one of the most challenging I have ever faced, Ironman included.

Winding around the bend, I could see maybe 2 to 3 guys off in the distance. I wondered had I really got that close to the front of the leaders? I pushed on, not knowing that my energy and enthusiasm to chase would soon fade away.

One really cool aspect of this race was the large expanse of space. I knew the Half Marathoners were poised to start at any moment, so I trained my eyes across the harbor. It must have been 2 miles across, but I could see tiny masses of people moving onto the course. Up ahead right in front of me I saw this gal on a bike riding next to a runner. As I cruised up I realized this was lead female! She was absolutely killing it. I hadn’t seen another female since like mile 2! I gave her some props as I past.

Spectators acting sheepish. Thanks to Elyssa for all the great images!

At the 12 to 13 stage there were advertisements for breakfast for 9 Euro up ahead at an Inn. Guess who had 40 Euro on him? That’s right, me! It was really tempting to take a pit stop but I didn’t. That 40 Euro was also my beer money for the finish line so better spent there anyway.

The Half had started 5 minutes before I arrived so now, as I pushed up a very steep hill, I was at the back of the pack.

This hill was kicking my ass. I was bobbing and weaving through Half Marathoners and trying to hold onto some kind of decent pace. My knee still felt totally fine, but now, having zero training under my belt, it was starting to affect me. Towards the crest of the long hill I heard a motorcycle coming from behind. They had been going back and forth on the course and I had made buddies with one of them by nodding a lot. As it passed it was herding the runners to the left. There was a guy on back and he pointed to me and said, “Follow us!” Oh snap! Do I have enough energy? Sure did.

They cut a real nice path through all the chaos for me and a few other Full racers. Being that they were on a motorized vehicle, I couldn’t keep up for long but by this point things had opened up.

Around mile 16 I came across 4 runners I recognized. As I crept up I yelled in my best irish accent, “Hey you tree runners you, move out da way will ye!” Maura, Elyssa, Chris, and Aidan greeted me with a smile. I hung out with them for a few minutes before taking off.

Mile 18 is where the wheels came off. I ate my last Gu and had some of the water they were serving (only water mind you, no sports drink) and tried to press on. My pace was at it’s slowest here and my quads were on fire!

Mile 19 I was walking. I felt so weak and hungry, I wanted to curl up on the side of the road and sleep. People were passing me left and right and I was ready to throw in the towel. I thought about how far I had come to race in this foreign land. I thought about how lucky I was that my knee felt the best it’s felt in a month and I ‘could’ run. Then, outta nowhere thees young village kids showed up. “Haribo! Who needs em some Haribo?!” You bet your life I want some gummy bears! (bouncing here and there and everywhere.) I must have looked at them with bewilderment as well as looking like I might die because one kid said, “Go ahead now, take them all.”

Never have I shoveled candy into my mouth as fast I did at that moment. 1 huge handful of the most delightful, life saving energy food ever. I looked at the kids and said, “Thanks fellas, you just saved my life!” I mustered up a little willpower and started running. 10 minutes later I was back in action.

I felt pretty good, but not up to full speed of course, as I came into what must have been an aid station at Mile 20 or 21. They finally had some Gatorade-like substance here along with some crackers that I housed. I later found out from the rest of the group that there were no crackers, so either I imagined it or a civilian helped me.

I was just clicking off mile by mile, sending it home. I knew it wouldn’t be my best time, but dammit, I was going to finish.

Rounding a bend and turning back into the open merciless wind, the ‘Hell of the West’ (a notorious 2 mile incline miles 221-24) reared its head. It was actually quite a sight to take in, like the great migration or something. As far as you could see there were runners winding up and around the mountain range. Spectacular and yet wickedly sick all at once.

I began my assent into the clouds accepting of the challenge. I didn’t want to walk, and so I didn’t. Instead I picked up the pace and dug in. I started passing people slowly. There were a lot of walkers. About a mile up as we rounded the bend the hill just kept going. I noticed now that my knee was acting up. I knew it would at some point during the race, but with 2 miles to go I wasn’t about to stop.

At the top of the mountain you could literally see the finish line 2 miles away down in the valley. 2 miles never looked so far. I even thought out loud, “No way that’s only 2 miles, it looks like 5!”

I just held a slow, steady, even pace for the remainder. Coming into the finish with 3:33:00 (my 9th marathon, weird) on the clock. I’ll take it, thank you very much mystical land of Connemara.

Sex/ Age	Bib	Overall Place	Age Place	Finish Time	Pace/ Mile	AG %
M35	5236	63	n/a	3:33:00	8:07	58.21%

After collecting my hardware I made my way to the only physical structure for 5 miles, the hotel and bar.

I figured it would be packed, but it was far from it… for now. Entering the dark ‘hunting lodge-like’ room I at first thought it was closed. Then, to my left I noticed a blazing fire in the old stone fireplace. A young women then appeared from behind the bar, my savior.

“Oh hello. You just ran the race, congratulations. Would you like a glass of water?” I smiled and simply said, “I’ll have a Guinness.”

10 minutes later the room started to fill up and the first of my friends arrived, Maura, Chris, Aidan and Elyssa. We took over a big table and began chowing down and drinking, all very happy to have finished. Moments later Abbe, BoJo and Lisa arrived.

All of us, although happy to be done, were openly concerned about Claire as we had just run one of the hardest and most unforgiving courses. We all started telling our tales of turmoil followed by triumph, some teary eyed. This was no ordinary race, this was truly a battle on many levels.

3 drinks in I caught Claire at the entrance to the bar looking around. I stood up and pointed at her yelling, “WALSH!” She came over and was overwhelmed by all the hugs, bursting into tears. Being one of very few Ultra runners, it was as if a General had entered the bar. People stood and Claire received a big round of applause and cheer. I bought her a Guinness.

That night all of us went out in Galway, celebrating our achievements. I am honored, proud and happy to have such noble and inspirational friends.

I often hear “I could never do that.” in regards to my Marathons or Ironman races. It is my least favorite thing to hear, because I was once just an nonathletic artist, dared to run a marathon. With zero training and a bum knee I ran this race. I’m not trying to gloat, what I am telling non-believer is this, I ran the Connemarathon with my mind, not my body. So what are you waiting for, go pick a marathon.

Our Boston Marathon

Posted on April 17, 2013 by admin

Posted in All, Race Reports, Running Leave a comment

The Boston Marathon is my Christmas.

I can’t seem to muster up my usual morning smile and have no pep in my step. The importance of everything around me seems dwarfed by Boston.

After last year’s scorching Boston Marathon, I decided to take a year off and run a race in Ireland. Thank you to all of my family and friends who reached out to see if I was okay, thinking I may have been running.

I was greatly relieved to learn (one by one) that all of my friends in Boston were okay. I wish everyone was okay. I wish that all of those people who worked so hard to get to Boston could have been celebrating today. I am sad for all of the innocent people hurt, people cheering on their runners.

Never before have I ever felt so directly affected by something so terrible. So much so, that I think I’m going to Boston next year.

Connemarathon: Pre-race

Posted on April 15, 2013 by admin

Posted in All, Race Reports, Running 2 Comments

Sitting in a pub 1 year ago with a few members of the Runner Army, it was suggested (because Maura is from Galway, Ireland) that we run the Connemarathon. It’s amazing what you can do, a simple dream or conversation, becoming your very real reality.

I met Claire on the Deuce, or 42nd Street if you prefer, and we hopped a cab to JFK. It was a beautiful day for a cab ride. Claire and I shared our insights on whether we were going to run the race in 3 days time. She has a stress fracture on her middle toe and well, my knee has bursitis. Both of us hadn’t done any training in probably 6 weeks, but more on that later.

We found Abbe Lew at yes, you guessed it, a bar. We saddled up beside her and had a few pints while we waited for our host, the Queen of Galway Bay herself, Maura to arrive.

So… we were pretty banged up when we got on the plane. I had never been on a transatlantic flight before so my plan was to use booze as a sleep aid. It worked. It was a 6PM flight so we arrived in Dublin on the following day at 5AM, time traveling into the future. Pretty cool aside from that fact that we would be a mess until we got to sleep that night.

We were hangin tough in the airport until the whole army arrived. Role Call: Abbe, Claire, Maura, Bojana (aka BoJo), Elyssa, Lisa, and Kristina. After renting a van, we took off heading westward! The only time it rained (the entire trip) was right as we were leaving the airport.

First stop, one of Maura’s 7 siblings, Sheelagh’s place, for a hard core Irish Breakfast! It was strictly amazing. 2 kinds of blood pudding, irish bacon, irish sausages, homemade soda bread, porridge, beans, tomatoes… you get the idea.

Once we were back on the highway everyone pretty much passed out aside from our driver, Maura. I tried really hard to be tough, fighting the urge to sleep and keeping her company, but soon I too was knocked out.

Arriving in Galway where Maura grew up, we headed to her family’s seafood business and met one of her brothers. Then, we went to her place, saying hi to her mother who is quite cool and very funny in an irish witty way. We had some time to kill so we went for a ‘Walk on the Prom.’ The promenade is a walkway winding around all of Galway Bay and is truly a sight. Across the bay is County Clare, very majestic with its hills. We also stopped in to have lunch at a local spot in which a few of us had our first of many Guinness tastings. Such a treat.

One of Maura’s very generous friends, Trays, let all of us stay in her house for the duration of the trip! So very sweet of her! After we cleaned up from our long day(s) of travel we hit the town! We had reservations at Ard Bia, a local spot in a cute country home style setting. My meal was absolutely amazing. Even here in New York I would be hard pressed to find something as delicious this. I had monkfish (the special) and seasoned vegetables. I also ate the leftover steaks of both Claire and Maura. My knee was craving food I guess, like some sick monster or vampire trying to regenerate.

Later that night Claire helped me with my math in noting that all of us had indeed been awake for 36 hours.

“Sleeping is easy, waking up is the hard part.” Isn’t that true after a crazy 36 hours of travel? I felt so great on day 2 after a full nights sleep and after eating enough dinner for 3.

We started our day with a morning shake out run along the Prom. It was a beautiful sunny day! My knee was only slightly wonky and I even did a speed drill to test her out. Systems were looking good.

Just to put you in my head… this race had been planned for a year. It takes place in one of the most beautiful and remote places in Ireland and has 3,000 entrants. I really wanted to run, but only if my knee was in good shape. With every passing day it got better and better. I also hadn’t run since February, so with no training my mind was a big ball of stress.

After the run we headed out (with Maura’s youngest brother Chris as our tour guide) to Connemara. We wanted to scout out parts of the course and just get a taste of what we were up against.

Packed into the van and very excited, we as me made our way past the last small village we entered some of the most mesmerizing scenery I have ever seen. Vast stretches of rock strewn fields met with tall majestic rock mountains cutting across the sky. Every now and again there would be 3 to 5 small farm houses at the base. Oscar Wilde dubbed it as ‘a savage beauty.’ Oh, and there were sheep EVERYWHERE, even in the road hanging out being sheepish.

Did I mention it was sunny?

On the way to lunch we ended up driving a bit of the Ultra course which upset Claire. I mean, the course did look very lovely from our perspective inside a moving van.

We stopped at Kylemore Abbey for lunch and to see the castle grounds. Briefly, its story goes something like this… in the 1850’s a couple honeymooned there. Years later the man inherited a great deal of money, returned and purchased 15,000 acres to build his wife a house modeled after a castle. It even has a church and lavish gardens. Its quite amazing. A few years after it was built his wife and daughter were struck ill and died. Since then it has passed hands a number of times. Now, the Benedictine Monks preside over the estate.

After basking in it’s beauty, we departed to bib pick-up, an hour or more away back in Galway.

Pick-up was at Elvery Sports, a local shop, and pretty painless. The single most important decision I made there was to purchase a running jacket. It was a very lightweight windbreaker, ‘wind breaking’ being the key component.

For our pre race dinner we decided to cook at the house and not risk possible food errors. Abs and BoJo made pasta with basil and tomato and a side salad, perfectly delicious.

After dinner Maura, Chris, and Elyssa went out to a local pub but the rest of us were pretty exhausted AND nerve wrecked knowing what battle lie ahead on the fields of Connemara. We had a few beers then went to bed at 11PM.

To be continued…

That time I got injured.

Posted on March 30, 2013 by admin

Posted in All, Running 4 Comments

Most of you know by now that I have bursitis of the knee. I’m living in a sort of ‘Runners Hell.’ I haven’t run in 5-6 weeks and am heading to Ireland to run the Connemarathon next Sunday. It should be interesting.

Ive been reading a lot.

I can hear a few of you, “Baker, that sounds like a bad idea. What if you hurt your knee even more?” Excellent point!

Before we talk about safety lets address the cause of my knee problem. At first, I thought I had injured it from doing a speed workout 1 week prior to the Gasparilla Half. Then, after researching ‘Chondromalacia patellae’ which is one of my ailments I came across an interesting sentence. ‘Skateboarders most commonly experience this injury in their non-dominant foot due to the constant kicking and twisting required of it.’ Oh snap! I looked back at my trusty Daily Mile log and sure enough, the same week I did the speed workout I had skateboarded to work for the first time in months!

My dear Watson, we’ve done it, The Case of the Curious Knee, solved!
Drink Coke, not Pepsi.

I love skateboarding to work. I love running and triathlons a lot more. Thank god the weather has been crap otherwise I would have been really going nuts.

For the last 10 days I have been icing my knee every hour, on the hour, for 10 minutes and eating Advil as a snack food. I have not done any strenuous exercise aside from swimming and core work. I have been a really good patient, I even skipped a race.

Now for the good news! I just went out for a run as the knee pain is non-existent the last few days. I ran 1/2 of a mile with zero pain! Then, a slight ‘twinge’ so I stopped just for safety sake.

The end is near my friends, I can feel it!

I will, however, not run the Connemarathon if there is pain present. I am coming home with hardware though, so I might just loosen my ego and power walk the hell out of the course! Look out!

NYC Half: DNS aka Cheer Squadron

Posted on March 22, 2013 by admin

Posted in All, Race Reports, Running 4 Comments

My Spring race schedule is a pretty simple formula… 2 Half Marys, a Full Mary followed another 2 Half Marys, with 2 weeks between each. A marathon sandwich if you will.

I ran the first of these in Tampa at the Gasparilla Distance Classic. I had a nagging knee pain in my left knee but I decided to just run through the pain. Upon our return I decided I better figure out this knee thing.

After some self diagnosis and help from my Sports Med friend Mary, we decided it was probably Runner’s Knee or tendonitis. I iced it and stretched a lot. Just to be clear, it only hurts when I go down stairs, squad, push off for a run or lunge left. Normal day-to-day activities feel normal. The problem with this is that my normal day-to-day activities are about to switch into triathlon training hyper drive as the Spring is near.

A painful decision was made not to run the NYC Half (my favorite Half Mary EVER) and try and heal up for the Connemarathon in Ireland.

RACE DAY

Abs and I met up with Susan, Dan, Ali, Brian, Jess and Lora at Engineers Gate to form Cheer Squadron A. Very elite, we even had cowbells and a foam finger from a Yankees game. Although I was somewhat sad that I was not racing, part of me was happy because it was like 25 degrees which is out of my comfort zone.

I saw many a friend running and destroying the course, which to a New Yorker is his or her back freakin yard what! Erica, Maura, Bojana, Ben, Josh K (demon of speed), Kevin (also a demon of speed), Kelly, Eliz, Eissa and probably a few others that I can’t remember. Way to go team, many a PR was had!

This last week I have been trying new techniques like heating my knee and oh, seeing a sports med doctor! Josh K recommended this guy and since Josh is a pretty serious runner I went.

Guess what? Heating the knee was bad idea. I have bursitis, which to me is better than having Runner’s Knee because its a bit more controllable. “Hey Baker, what the hell is bursitis? Are you going to need a robotic knee with an ipod adapter and built in water reservoir?” I wish kid, I wish. I hate carrying my iPod. Between our bone and our tendons are bursa, which reduce friction between the two. My bursa is irritated and pissed off and needs to be iced. Basic treatment (which all athletes know) is RICE… Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation.

I am very relieved to have some sort of pinpoint on my wonky knee. I also think I know what caused it. A week or so before the Gasparilla Half I was running the bridal path (Kel, remember I met up with you for a few miles) and rolled my ankle. Rather than stop I just ran through the pain. Now, because I was being tough and stubborn I have to suffer, lesson learned.

I have 2 weeks to the Connemarathon and my knee is already almost pain free. This doesn’t mean I’m going to run it, I’m just being hopeful.

As you can imagine I have been very depressed the last 4 weeks and in a funk. To know that running will only agitate your injury makes you crazy. I live to be active, to run, bike, swim, skateboard and really just bounce around all over. It really just goes back to one of my philosophys of why I run. I run to feel alive and because I can. I run for charities to run for those who cannot run. Not that I AM one of the people who cannot run I realize just how much we must cherish our health and the ability to move gracefully across this Earth, with speed, determination and heart.

Go run, because you can.

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