Category Archives: Race Reports

The Galway Bay Gallop

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What do runners do on St. Patrick’s Day? We integrate beer into our running.

Maura (who is from Galway) designed a very fun and difficult race for the Rogue Runners called the Galway Bay Gallop. The race was an out and back, 4 miles total. The catch? At each turn around point you had to either take a shot of whiskey or chug a beer, 3 drinks in total. The prize purse was as follows: a bottle of Irish Whiskey, a bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream, or a delightful package of Irish smoked salmon sponsored by Galway Bay Seafoods.

The next day was the NYC Half Marathon so a lot of our friends weren’t running in the Galway Bay Gallop. Also, since I was to be cheering all day during the Half I decided to get in my 18 Miler before the race. This was a poor decision.

Abbe and I showed up at the 102 Transverse to find a group of 15 people preparing!

In order to make Rogue Runner races fun, handicaps are put in place to equalize the playing field. Maura took everyone’s 4 mile race time and set up wave starts. I got to start last with a 14 minute deficit on the leaders. This is why maybe doing an 18 miler before hand was stupid. My poor legs did not feel like running at all.

At Maura’s command the first group, led my Tracy, started chugging their beers and were off. SIDENOTE: We were all really concerned with getting pinched by the cops. I later learned that it’s only a $25 ticket and not jail time. Game on.

I think there were 9 runners total. Matt6 and I were the last to go. As he set off chasing the pack I still had to wait a couple minutes to start, a difficult task considering Matt6 is no slow poke.

With 1 minute to start I prepared my Porkslap Ale. As Maura counted down to zero I attempted to chug my Ale. I’m not much of a ‘chugger’ really, never have been, so I just drank quickly. After my tasty beverage I set of with a running fury. I immediately felt like my chest was going to explode from all the carbonation! I was run-burping along the West Side Rollers, not really enjoying myself. It was quite painful in fact, not just the beer in ma belly, but trying to trick my trashed legs to run again. Clearly, my body was like “Hey Baker, we already ran today and were super excited when it was over. What’s the deal?”

As I was running I kept looking way ahead, wondering when I would see the first group on their return trip and the impossible task of trying to catch them.

It wasn’t long. Tracy appeared about 1.5 miles into my first leg of the race. She was cooking too. We laughed and high fived.

Soon after I saw a small group trailed by Matt6. Ironically, just as I was feeling good I was arriving at the second ‘Aid’ station to drink my next drink. Abbe, Claire and Erica were awaiting and cheering me on. They had a beer prepared, but in the interest of time I yelled to them that I would do a whiskey shot instead. Abbe prepared the concoction and I downed it, chasing after the group.

In case you have never run in Central Park, the West Side Rollers are no joke. Having to do them twice was brutal. Using my blurred eyesight I was constantly scanning runners ahead of me looking for my targets. Son enough I saw 2 of the gals from the original lead group. I passed them and shouted hello, continuing my search for the leaders.

By now the booze had numbed the pain in my legs enough so that I was actually trucking along at a decent pace. I rounded the bend into the transverse and saw the group chugging their final drinks! I had come in 7th Place. Tracy had held a great pace (she even had a 2 minute PR) and won the overall race!

After all the runners were in Maura had a fantastic awards ceremony. So many fun prizes! In the interest of St. Paddy’s Day we all went out for a couple more beers to celebrate. Thanks for organizing this one Maura, it was great!

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Congrats to all my peeps who ran in the NYC Half Mary the following day! Especially to Abbe, who rocked a 30 minute PR!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The New York Hot Dog Challenge

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2.5 miles, 1 hour and 10 hot dogs are quite deserving of the word ‘challenge.’ 10 competitors set out to take the challenge and come home with the grand prize of $225.

The last few weeks before the race there was a lot of buzz going around. “Who has the best odds?” “Who is the craziest?” “Does it even matter if you are a fast runner?” We had a generous outpouring of donations to create the grand prize of $225! (Thanks to all who donated to make the race exciting and bit more rewarding for the challengers!) We also had a total of 10, that’s right 10 racers signed up to compete! This was a New York Rogue Runners race so all you need to do to race is show up on game day.

I really enjoyed all the playful trash talking between everyone as well.

Wayne’s World flashback… (waving hands)

The concept for this race was born 7-10 years ago. As I was walking with friends Mirko and Benny (I wasn’t even a runner at the time) we laughed at a crazy idea. “What if you had to run through midtown and every time you passed  hot dog cart you had to eat one!” Such a sick and twisted idea. I loved it. Little did I know, years later I would be friends with a group of athletes crazy enough to pull it off!

The rules (seemed) simple enough. Follow the course map that I was to release the night before the race (to deter cheating) and eat a hot dog at every designated cart. Finish first without puking, win the prize.

RACE DAY

We met at the Mall in Central Park, a very scenic place (and iconic for any runners) to start a race. Everyone started arriving with huge smiles on their faces, excited to see what lay in store for all of us. I too, was giddy. The race itself had never been done, so the outcome was unknown. Would anyone finish? Would there be survivors?

Once all the competitors arrived I made a few race announcements and answered any questions. I was happy to not be racing, especially since eating competitions are really not my forte. The quick decision was made for all competitors to eat their first dog together at the cart stationed close by. As soon as they were done eating, they could start running the course.

(Thanks for the pics Elyssa!)

Tao, not a runner but a proclaimed eating machine, finished his dog in record time and immediately set off with 2 refs (Laura and Laura) following close behind.

We had 7 referees (including me) to follow the runners and make sure they stayed on course, ate each dog and didn’t puke.

One by one the rest of the gang finished their dogs and set off. I ran along with the middle group at first, chatting with Jim from ‘Dad Posse’ and TJ who were both setting a speedy pace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Carts 1 and 2 were right outside the Park on adjacent corners. The leaders lined up and ordered their dogs, chowing down as soon as the exchange took place. (Lines were one of the unforeseen variables in the race) In the lead after Cart 2 was Matt 6, Neal and Tao. I was running along with the trailing group, TJ, Jim and Bojana.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was notified by Abbe that Cart 3 wasn’t there (another unforeseen factor). I told her to wave runners on to Cart 4, luck was on their side… for now.

As we arrived at Cart 4 or ‘Baker’s Pass’ as I deemed it on the map because I work across the street, Matt had already taken off, Tao and Neal following shortly after. I sprinted ahead to catch up with Matt and Maria (who was reffing him) to make sure we were on course.

Arriving at Carts 5 and 6, or ‘Dead Man’s Corner’, one of the carts was missing so to Matt’s dismay we picked the next closest cart. We had to keep with the theme of ‘Dead Man’s Corner’ after all. While here, Tao and Neal caught up to Matt. Things were really getting exciting!

Tao finished first and took the lead.

The last 4 Carts were picked strategically. They were in a row on every block, cutting through Times Square, Hot Dog Cart Capital of the Free World. I dubbed this stretch ‘The Gauntlet’ and it would live up to it’s name.

I caught up to Tao at Cart 7. He proclaimed to not be a runner, but he was putting down a great pace for having 6 hot dogs floating around his belly. Just as he was finishing Matt arrived. It was going to be close. Tao took off to Cart 8 while Matt plowed through his 7th hot dog of the day. (You can’t run with the dogs, you must finish them before moving forward)

With the 3rd and 4th place runners nowhere in sight I stuck with the leaders to see how it was to play out.

Barreling into Times Square, Matt was at Cart 8 and Tao was at Cart 9 directly across the street! The 2 competitors were literally eating and watching each other.

I bolted ahead to the last Cart. I was really hoping it would be there as it was a crucial element in the race. You couldn’t see it as you approached which is why I chose it. A lot of the racers were hopeful that maybe the last Cart didn’t show up for work and they could keep running to the Finish. Incorrect.

As Tao arrived he looked less than excited to eat his 10th hot dog. Tourists nearby were watching us (as they had all day) in wonder. He wolfed the last dog down and took off, 1/2 mile separating him and victory.

Matt arrived seconds later, knowing he had a decent shot of overtaking Tao if he could just eat the hot dog fast. I took off down an alternate route to see the finish.

The Finish line was right in front of Rudy’s Bar, one of the last true dive bars left in NYC. 12 years ago it was my hangout, but why end it here on a hot dog run? Because you get served free hot dogs in the bar as long as you are ordering drinks!!!

As I arrived Tao had just finished taking the number 1 slot! He had been cooking that last stretch. Matt came in about a minute after him to take number 2! Both men were in rough shape and needed ‘a minute’.

It was at least 5 minutes before our number 3 position came into view. It was Bojana, our first female finisher!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then came Neal and TJ, neck and neck followed by Jim, Dennis and finally Bethaney!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Claire and Gillian both took DNF’s for the day but gave it a worthy shot!

Everyone finished in under an hour and Tao came in at roughly 40 minutes! Impressive.

All of us moved inside to Rudy’s to celebrate. We had a small awards ceremony where I presented Tao with his Medal and $225! He saluted us by chugging a beer. True story.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We all stayed for awhile laughing at the whole fiasco. It was really interesting hearing everyone’s different take on the race and where it went astray.

 

It was the first race of this kind and I think it went fantastic! I had a blast following the lead racers. Congrats to everyone who participated in this difficult race and thanks to everyone for volunteering and coming out to play!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cardiac Crusher Brewery 4 Miler

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What’s so cool about being a part of the New York Rogue Runners? You get to design races!

The Cardiac Crusher Brewery 4 Mile Prediction Race (conceptualized by Joe) is a race in which you guess when you will finish. Runners cannot have any timing devices on them and the winner is whom ever comes in closest to their predicted time. It’s brilliant in design because it really doesn’t matter if you are a fast runner, what matters is understanding and listening to your own body.

We all arrived at the 72nd Street Transverse and put on our bibs. There were 6 racers (New York Rogue Runners is a relatively new group so I expect it to pick up as the season progresses.) Joe showed us the prize of Cardiac Crusher Brewery Citron Hefeweizen and then did his best Peter Chacha (CHA CHA!) impression, going over the course. Then, each of us gave our predicted times, mine being 24:30 which meant I was really going to set it off if I wanted to win. Since Sonja rarely lets me train anaerobically, I was looking forward to letting loose.

Joe set us off and I immediately just started running at I guess what I would call my 5K pace. Not having any timing device is strange and yest at the same time, very freeing.

I took it easy going up Cat Hill and then opened up a bit, feeling a little heavy. Perhaps it was the 20 degree weather holding me back?! I hate running in the cold. The 102 Transverse was a blessing. In my head I knew I was at the halfway point.

The ‘West Side Rollers’ proved a bit difficult because that’s when the wind picked up. I did, however start to feel really good at this point. What’s funny about these Rogue Races is that the other 90% of the runners out there have no idea there is a ‘race in progress.’ You get very puzzling looks from people when they see the homemade bibs. I also find it slightly upsetting as I am passing other runners and then realize, “Oh wait, these folks are just out for their run, they aren’t racing you dummy.”

Cruising up to the Finish, they called my time out at 25:14, 44 seconds off my prediction! Not terrible I suppose.

Shortly after the rest of the gang came through… Claire, Robin, Elyssa, Amy and Maura. The big winner was Robin, who was only 13 seconds off her predicted time! I came in 2nd Place (Amy in 3rd), earning me 2 of Joe’s coveted Citron Hefeweizen! Sweet, a Beer prize! (review of his brew to come later)

Thanks to Joe for his excellent design of the Prediction Race!

Don’t forget runners, on February 4th is E’s Run to City Bakery followed by the New York Hot Dog Challenge on February 11th.

 

RACE REPORT: 070 Ted Corbitt 15K – 59:26

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How do you prepare for a 15K? Do you ever have those races where you know your plans the night before will be consequential to your performance? Me too. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow.

Friday night before the Ted Corbitt 15K was a blast. I left work to meet up with Abbe and her best friends Drew and Danielle at Tortilla Flats down in the West Village. SIDENOTE: Danielle and Drew were visiting from out of town, so racing took a back seat while eating and drinking the front.

Arriving at Tortilla Flats for guactails I was presented a celebratory shot of tequila. I had just heard about the Kompetitive Edge sponsorship and was beyond excited. From there (after a handful of margaritas) we went to Empillon, a fantastic new mexican restaurant. I proceeded to drink margaritas, but this time washed them down with spicy fish tacos. Very logical before a 15K, I know but… celebrate we must!

RACE DAY

I was up at 6:30AM (start was at 8AM) and fueling up with some Cafe Bustelo. My stomach was totally wonky and I had no desire to eat breakfast, other than being a bit ‘cloudy’ I felt okay to race.

On the way to Central Park I thought it wise to stop and grab a banana from a bodega even if I didn’t feel hungry. Looking back, I’m very glad I opted to eat something.

Up in my corral I quietly waited for the gun. Somehow I was toeing the start mat, which I didn’t plan on as there are loads of faster guys that will be passing me by. It was brisk out, maybe 35 degrees and sunny.

As the gun went off we all set off at a pretty manageable pace, a 15K pace I suppose you might say. I was not wearing a watch. My legs felt good, but not as good as when I did my speed workout 2 days earlier. Smooth move Baker.

The course was 2 loops of the Park, the 4 Mile followed by the 5 Mile extension. I hit Miles 1 and 2 at a 6:10 pace and knew I couldn’t hold it. This was my last race in the 9+1 series so I really just had to get it done so my stress levels were low. Coming up the East Side of the course at Mile 3 I saw my friend Alex (who was volunteering as Course Marshall). Other than Alex, I saw no other Runner Army personal which I found strange. The Park seemed lonely for the first time in a long while.

The second loop was less than stellar because I started burping up acid from the spicy food and margaritas. My chest was burning something fierce and I thought about quitting. Actually, I’m pretty sure I think about quitting during every race. I have never quit a race, and I wasn’t about to start. I thought about all the races I have completed where conditions were much worse or simply a greater challenge like a marathon and tried to dumb down this race mentally. Then, I started up with one of my mantras, ‘There is no pain, only glory’ which is kinda funny in a Braveheart meets 300 kinda way but it works.

I was pushing 6:30s the last few miles and fading pretty fast. My 15K PR was 59:23, but really I would be happy to finish under an hour. Making some calculations off the course clocks things looked good. As I was coming up to the finish (a straightaway followed by a left turn and another 20 meters) I saw the clock hit 59:00. I had 23 seconds to PR!

Moments like these are wild, because time actually seems to slow down, yet that clock keeps on ticking away.

Sex/
Age		 Bib Overall Place Age
Place		 Finish
Time		 Pace/
Mile		 AG %
M33 128 73 17 59:26 6:24 69.6%

I missed the PR by 3 seconds, but had finished under an hour. I was happy.

Baker’s Funtastic Four Miler

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Abbe and I were chatting last night about her possible Jingle Bell Jog 3.7 mile race the next morning. She was excited to test her speed at a shorter distance race, but unexcited to travel to Brooklyn early in the morning to do so. I suggested that I time her as she run the 4 mile loop of Central Park.

Then was born… Baker’s Funtastic Four Miler. It’s part of New York Rogue Runners, a secret group of runners who create their own races. Unlike New York Road Runner races, these races have prizes! My race had a lovely bottle of cabernet sauvignon up for grabs.

RACE DAY

Abbe and I set out to the start (72nd Street and East Drive) to arrive by 10AM. It was a beautiful and brisk day.

Slowly our competitors showed up. This was kind of last minute so I didnt expect many. Abbe, Susan, Bojana, Elyssa, and Stephan donned their hand made bibs and prepared to start. I gave them race instructions in my best Peter Chacha impersonation.

Using my iPhone stop watch synced with my trusty Rolex I sent the runners off!

It’s weird not racing. I just kinda hung out and drank my coffee, watching other runners go by. Waiting…

First in was Susan!(soon after our friend Ali came to cheer. She was a little late but assured us she would race next time!)

A few minutes later Bojana!

Then, Abbe and Elyssa cruised in.

Finally, Stephan arrived!

Everyone had a good race aside from them all missing my secret aid station at Mile 2.We had a small awards ceremony where Susan won her bottle of wine and a hug.

Congrats to all the racers! Times posted below!
1: Susan 28:56
2: Bojana 31:57
3: Abbe 32:56
4: Elyssa 32:58
5: Stephan 39:50

 

 

 

RACE REPORT: 069 The Voices 5M – 30:21

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After 2 weeks off (and I mean off) from Ironman, this weekend was a swift introducing back to the world of running.

Saturday, Claire threw her 3rd annual Beer Run. It’s an event not to be missed, kind of like a runner holiday party. Here’s the skinny… run to a bar, drink… then run to another bar… drink; rinse and repeat. Sound like fun? It is.

There were 40 of us this time and by the 3rd bar we were all ‘loosey goosey’ making the running between bars that much more interesting. I got to see all of my runner friend’s from the Runner Army minus one or two who couldn’t make it due to religious obligations. As always it was a blast, thank you Claire for organizing!

This made for a good warm up for Sunday’s NYRR sanctioned race.

RACE DAY

I left my apartment with plenty of time to spare and walked over to the Park. There, I ran into Annalise and Lisa (who were also racing). New York really is a small town.

I jumped in my corral and hung around, thinking about what I was going to do. ‘Should I race this thing, or just run it?’ My legs didn’t feel quite lucid yesterday during Beer Run so I was worried that my speed was lacking.

Out of nowhere Sebastian, Robert, Antonio and Helen showed up! Oh, I also got to finally meet Joe G in person! Nice to finally meet you! We all chatted about… you know… running. Gotta say, making running friends the last few years has been really special. The fact that all of us were just hanging out on a Sunday at the Start talking shop is so cool. You not only feel like part of the running community, but of the community in general.

The gun goes off and we set it off, like getting shot out of a canon. It was pretty crowded the first mile as everyone eased into their paces. I hit Mile 1 right around 6 minutes and said to myself “F-it I guess I’m racing this thing.”

Around Mile 2 Robert and Antonio passed me. They were on a sub 30 minute mission and were killing it.

I wasn’t wearing a watch so at Mile 3 I tried some quick math and figured I was running 6:30s or so. Why are numbers so puzzling!

I felt pretty good as far as my legs were concerned. I mean, I was exhausted from running hard, but overall I felt healed from Ironman and was happy. I had been leapfrogging with a gal from Warren Street (Robert, Seb and Antonios team) and at Mile 4 she saw I was fading. She ran along side of me and said “Come on!” This helped tremendously (thank you) and I just focused on keeping my pace steady.

I came in at 30:21 and actually wasn’t concerned with the time at all. Abbe even asked me, moments later, “Was that a PR?” “Naw.” I responded, as I chowed down on a raisin bagel. Sonja actually emailed me later and told me it was. Oops.

Sex/
Age		 Bib Overall Place Age
Place		 Finish
Time		 Pace/
Mile		 AG %
M33 131 136 29 30:21 6:05 71.14%

There were kids races after and Joe had brought his family to race! Too cute man. Oh, and Robert and Antonio broke 30, congrats guys! Yeah and Seb came in 6th overall with a 26:01. That’s a 5:13 pace, killer!

It was a fantastic weekend for racing. It was so great to see all my running friends! I was also very happy that I had my legs back after the Ironman.

 

 

 

RACE REPORT: 068 Ironman Arizona – 11:13:56

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My hunger for endurance sports started in 2008 when I ran my first race, the NYC Marathon. Since then it has literally changed my life, inspiring me to chase goals that at one point may have seemed impossible. One of these goals was to race an Ironman.

Earlier this year I began my training for Ironman Arizona, which always takes place in late November. After a few runs and a bike here and there I started to think that maybe my lofty ‘train when I feel like it’ plan might not cut it on race day. That’s when I recruited the help of Sonja, a 6-time Ironwoman, to coach me. her and I have similar outlooks on racing and life in general so I thought she would be perfect. I was correct. She whooped me into Ironman shape and although it was far from easy, it made all the difference on race day.

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I arrived in Arizona on Thursday night before the race. It was late and I needed to rent a car and get to our hotel. Did I mention that the last time I drove an automobile was over a year ago? One of the pros and cons to living in mighty Manhattan, you don’t need a car! Exhausted, and quite excited to see some desert terrain the next morning, I went to bed.

Waking up to a dessert sunrise is amazing. I had some coffee and watched the news before setting out for the athlete check-in. SIDENOTE: Ironman isn’t as important to the people of Arizona as one might think. The news cast went something like this… “Tomorrow looks to be an exciting day here in Tempe as ASU gears up to play! Sunday is the Ironman race so watch out for traffic delays.”

Check-in was relatively painless and within 15 minutes I was all set. The Expo was bumpin’ and very full of energy. It’s very different from a Marathon Expo, I don’t know why. Actually, I’m lying—I do know why. I have a breakdown for endurance sports, but it might offend some people, but that’s life. Remember, I do all 3 of the sports I am about to bust on.

Level of laid back, most sportsman like in order:
Bikers = Total assholes
Runners = for the most part, very cool, with 50% being anti-social jerks
Swimmers = laid back hippies, always friendly and willing to chat before a race
Triathletes = 99% laid back friendly with a 1% asshole ratio because there are bikers involved

Next I went to ride the bike course! From my hotel it was a straight shot out onto the Beeline Highway, where 80 percent of the ride takes place. I was in awe of the scenery! There were lots of other riders looking very serious, but here I was with a huge smile looking this way and that, trying to find the perfect cactus (I’m such a city slicker). One thing I did notice was the heat. I could tell that even though I wasn’t sweating, I needed to keep hydrated.

 

Back toward the hotel I was feeling a bit hungry so I went in search of food. What did I find? A deli that made a hero-style sandwich that was very close to New York City standards! I gave it 8 out of 10. After which, I chilled out at my hotel before picking Abbe up from la aeroporta.

On Saturday, we both went for a leisurely run (me having a leisurely bike ride before of course) before heading out to pick up one of my best friends from college, Alex. We then dropped off my bike and transition bags before hitting a local venue for some tacos!

After lunch I just had to drive them out onto the bike course, it was THAT cool! We went out to the Red Mountain (the turn around on the course) and explored a bit.

The rest of the day was spent by the pool before we headed out to Old Scottsdale for some pasta!

In bed and asleep by 9PM! (I’d be lying if I didn’t confess that there were a few beers thrown in to help me sleep!)

RACE DAY!

I awoke without my alarm at 4AM and set about making coffee, oatmeal and preparing my Special Needs Bags for the bike and run. We were out the door by 5:15 and I was in Transition by 5:30.

SIDENOTE: I look like crap. An Ironman? Really?

The energy was beyond amazing. It was pitch black out and everyone was going about their business setting up T1 and dropping off Special Needs Bags. I was done with those tasks by 6 and had an hour to chill, so I busted out my oatmeal and people watched. One thing I noticed was how disorganized some people were, cutting it really close with all the drop-offs! I mean, c’mon people, it’s an Ironman, punctuality should be the least of your problems!

Thirty minutes before the start I went into Transition and started changing into my trusty wetsuit. The water was 61 degrees, but from swimming in the Hudson in early May every year I was ready. We all huddled together (very March of the Penguins-esque) and slowly moved to the swim entrance.

The Pros went off at 6:45 and we had 15 minutes to get in the water and swim the 200 meters to the Start Buoys. Some people were questioning whether we would set off on time. Personally, I wasn’t too concerned, knowing that the water was icy cold, the less time before the start gun the better even if I was in the back. I was actually extremely calm and relaxed.

I jumped off the dock into the lake and was hit with a cold water shock. Knowing that I simply needed to generate some heat I started calmly swimming up under the bridge. I was to the right, midway back, right where I was supposed to be. I floated on my back to conserve energy and because I was really happy. In my head I thought, “This is really happening, I am at the start of the Ironman…”

Without warning the cannon (yes, a cannon) fired and the piranha attack began. I put my head down and started easing into the masses. I was almost immediately kicked square in the eye socket and had to fix my goggles. Arms and legs were everywhere, a giant swimming ‘Rush Hour’ if you will, where the only place to go is forward. I have been beaten up pretty bad in a swim before, but never like this. I was also in no way scared, which is night and day from my childhood swimming experiences. For the whole swim I was elbowing or being elbowed, shaking off hands from my feet (thank God I’m not ticklish). Within 300-500 meters, I found a groove and stuck to it. I knew that my swim time would be the worst, but I also knew it’s part of the protocol and had to get done, so that’s what I did.

We were swimming into the sunrise and it was a very beautiful thing. The light was almost like a blinding guide to the turnaround point, which actually came quick.

This (I think, anyway) is where my swim turned to garbage. As I made the giant turn to come back home I felt some slight fatigue set in. It also didn’t help that people were swimming over top of me. In fact I was so annoyed at one point that I literally pushed someone on my right with my foot and sent them 5 feet to the right, Ninja style, punk. You can’t train for that move, can you?

The bridges at the Start just weren’t coming fast enough. I felt slow and sloppy. I had been swimming for 1:30 now and the cold had now set in and was affecting my performance. “Get it done, Chris,” I told myself. I even thought about quitting for a hot second, before flashing back to what happened to my Dad. He sure as hell didn’t quit his fight with cancer. This was just a silly race—a race I chose. So I swam.

Popping up onto the stairs, I went right to the wetsuit strippers. My guy yelled at me, “Lay down man!” and in one swoop had me stripped of my wetsuit. Wow, if only I had that at every triathlon! Thanks guys!

Running along I suddenly realized  that I was shaking from the cold. Run, just run and get the legs warmed up. Arriving in the T1 tent I was happy to see it was heated. I slowly pulled my arm warmers on as a volunteer checked on me. “Hey man, how we doing you okay?” “Y-y-yes. J-j-just freezing.”

TIME: 1:44:01   PLACE: 2293 out of 2500 (yikes)

Riding out of T1 I saw Abbe and Alex (who snapped this amazingly timed picture!). A gal next to me looked over as we were getting moving and said, “So. Cold. So very very cold.” I, also freezing, yelled at her, “Hang on, we are almost in the sun!” Hours later we would all be wishing for that cold back as the dessert is no moderate place to race.

The bike course is a 3 loop out and back, and when I say out I mean it! You ride 19 miles out into the dessert to the Red Mountain! SO sinister sounding right? The beauty of the course is that it is relatively flat.

The mighty Red Mountain!

My body was hurting for the first trek out to the mountain. I even said to myself, “Wow. That swim kicked my ass.” I couldn’t get comfortable and my lower back hurt right from the start. I just followed our plan and kept my heart rate up and steady, drinking my EFS every so often. I was told not to focus on passing people, but I was passing everybody.

Arriving at the Red Mountain is something out of Mad Max. Here you are riding along this desolate (very desolate) dessert highway and then, ‘Blam!’ you round a corner and it’s like an aid station party in the middle of nowhere! People cheering and handing out everything possible. As I turned around I dropped it down to a low low gear and blasted back toward Tempe. The return is more of a downhill, so you can really crush it. I think I was pushing 35 MPH.

Somewhere along here I ran into my friend Michelle who races with Tri2Be. We had a quick chat before I kept going. I saw many Tri2Be racers out there and cheered them on every time I saw them, yelling “Tri2Be NYC Go!” I even yelled to their coach, Ramon, and said hello, confusing him. (I looked into joining their team a year ago so I had emailed with him a few times.)

Back in sunny Tempe, Arizona I was roughly 2 hours into the bike, 1:50 to be exact. The crowds were thick (as thieves) but I was soon out of their sight as I looped around and headed back towards the sands. I really had to pee so, remembering what a few Ironman friends had told me, I started peeing. I would have lost 10 minutes easy by pulling over to pee. That’s right, I peed my pants on the bike. The funny part is (not to anyone around me) is that I was moving at 20MPH. That’s right, lets put the facts together. Peeing your paper thin Tri Shorts while moving 20MPH… it sprays EVERYWHERE behind you! The funny thing is I didn’t realize it was leaving a wake until I looked back and was like, “Oh my god!” I chuckled and thought, “It’s the Ironman, could be worse.”

Back on the Beeline Highway heading North by Northwest I felt 100 times better than I did the first lap. I was drinking my EFS, water and munching on Clif Bars, maintaining my pace. Every now and then a group of the Pros would blast by at like 25MPH. Totally bad ass.

As I rounded the turn about, this time I pulled over, grabbed a water bottle and jammed it into my aero bottle. Also in my peripheral was this box of mini-Powerbars. I grabbed one. I emptied it in and sped off with speed, much like a Formula 1 racer might do at pit stop. I was quietly proud of myself.

As I prepared to enter Mach 3 on the downhill portion of the bike, a new factor presented itself… the Mighty South Wind! It was easily gusting at 20-30MPH and slowed me down to 17 MPH from 29. It angered me. In fact, the wind always angers me when it rears its head because it’s this invisible thing. Where does it come from? How does it start? Is the jet stream this constant roller coaster of air? I don’t know because I went to art school, but I sure can decorate a house.

Bike Special Needs is your opportunity to refill on any goodies you might have used up on the previous 3 hours of the bike. You pull over by your number and they bring you your bag, which you hopefully filled with something appropriate. Mine had 2 fresh water bottles and a Clif Bar. I swapped out the old stuff with the new and took off, excited to drink more EFS! It’s so good, especially the 3rd and 4th bottle of it! That was an example of sarcasm.

Back in sunny Tempe, I (once again) turned around and headed back toward the dreaded (once mighty) Red Mountain. I needed to destroy the One Ring in the fires of the Red Mountain, wait, wait, different race. I did however have to pee again and—no joke—peed right on the same stretch as before. I’m like a cat.

Out on the Beeline for the last time I changed my strategy. Instead of taking it steady up the highway, I blazed a path, knowing the wind was at my back. It worked and I made up a lot of lost time as evident in my quicker split.

Looping around for the last time I had never been happier to be returning to sunny Tempe. My ass hurt and the wind was really pushing me back. I wanted to run. I had drank all of my EFS, loads of water, eaten a Clif Bar, Powerbar and a Honeystinger Waffle. I felt great as far as nutrition was concerned.

Pulling into T2 a nice volunteer grabbed my bike and said, “I got it, go!” Before I could tell him to be careful, she is a delicate (and yet ferocious) bike, I was off barreling towards the changing tent. My volunteer laughed when he saw I had 2 different colored New Balance running socks, but before I had a chance to tell him about my Laundromat’s Sock Vortex, I was gone.

TIME: 5:43:57   PLACE: 1139 (catching up!)

The sunscreen girls would not let me leave before smearing me with zinc oxide saying, “You Sir, are a prime candidate for the sun screeners!”

Passing the 1st aid station, I grabbed loads of water and a sponge in which I attempted to clean my messy self up with. My legs felt a bit worn out, but I knew it wouldn’t be until mile 5 before they would kick in. I was running my 7:30 pace as Sonja and I had planned, taking it easy compared to a normal marathon pace. This was also a 3 loop course and I wasn’t sure how I was going to deal with the monotony. I was consistently passing people now and would never get passed (unless looped by a Pro). In my head I thought about my poor swim and my semi-decent bike, wondering where I could improve for next time. Then I almost said aloud, “Lookout people, we’re running now, you’re on my turf!” But I didn’t. That’s unsportsmanlike, after all.

At aid stations 4 and 5 I thought it wise to get some salt in me, so I slammed down some Ruffles with Ridges (seriously). They were delicious and my body immediately felt better. SIDENOTE: The aid stations in Ironman are like giant buffets. Each mile marker has one and they are identical. Sponges-Water-Gatorade-Powerade-Poweraid Gels-Potato Chips-Pretzels-Cookies-Bananas-Apples-Powerbar Gels-Poweraid-Gatorade-Water-Sponges. It’s an all you can eat aid station buffet around every corner! (Sometimes with a DJ, sometimes with hot girls dressed as cops)

At Mile 4 and 8 Abbe and Alex were cheering me on! Abbe asked how I was and I told her I was doing well. They had a great spot by one of the bridges where they could see runners on the out and back.

As I finished up the first loop I started to feel good. Not great as if I woke up from a nap on the beach, but I was feeling peppy. My hat was bothering me as I never run with a hat, but seeing as how I’m really pasty and have a crew cut I though it wise. Oh yes, and it’s the desert!

Miles 10-12 were uneventful aside from the fact that I was longing for the 13th mile so I could be halfway done. My nutrition was on par and all I was taking in at this point was water and Gatorade. Right around this point I saw Hillary Biscay cheering and I yelled to her, “Hillary, I love reading your blog!” like a good dork blogger should to which she replied, “Thank you! Good luck!”

When I saw Abbe and Alex on the second loop I gave them my heart rate monitor which had been annoying me. I also told them I wanted an In-N-Out Burger when I was done! I also yelled, “It’s about to get REAL.”

As I came back around to the start to begin my 3rd loop something strange happened. I kept telling myself that when I hit my wall at mile 17 or 18 (when it happened like clockwork 2 weeks prior in the NYC Marathon) I would walk to ease the pain. Guess what? I never hit that wall. In fact this would be the only marathon I have ever run where I didn’t walk! Instead I had this crazy sense of urgency to finish. I was rocking an 8 minute pace, far from my typical running times, but this was Ironman and I’ll take it. The pain in my legs seemed to dissipate as I cruised forward passing groups of people. I had heard about the ‘Ironman Carnage’ and now I was seeing it. 90% of the marathoners were walking. I am by no means criticizing, because it’s every man’s individual race, it was just wild to see the end of a long day and what it did to all of us.

Sonja had warned me of people trying to draft me once I was cooking and it happened at mile 18. This big 6 foot fall dude I passed sped up and was shadowing me. I don’t like to be shadowed, I live in New York City for god’s sake. Maybe this fella was gonna try and pinch my wallet. I punched it and was kicking some 7:30s again and before I knew it he was an after thought.

I had also heard the phrase, “Once you start on Coke, you can’t stop.” I am referring to an endurance race and not a night club. Seeing as how I had 6 miles to go I figured why the hell not, and so I had a shot of Coke. It made me feel amazing, maybe because I never drink soda! I had a shot the next 2 aid stations and then started thinking… “They shouldn’t ever give this to kids! Holy cow.”

The last 4 miles were easy. I’m serious and I’m not trying to sound like a jerk, they just were. My legs were on autopilot and mentally I was somewhere else. I would be lying if I didn’t say I was emotional. I was thinking to myself, “This is really happening, I’m going to complete an Ironman.” I was also thinking of my Dad and how six months to the day I was telling him as he lay dying that every race I do from here on would be for him.

Running the last mile I encountered lots of crowds. The sun was down now and the course looked just as it did when we started the swim 11 hours earlier. I cruised into the finish chute and held my hands up high. As always with me, the finish itself isn’t as momentus as actual key points in the race. Abbe and Alex were there in the stands and I yelled and waved to them!

TIME: 3:33:42   PLACE: 458

I finished in 11:13:56. I was very happy with my time. In fact I really could have cared less about my time as it was my first Ironman and finishing was my goal. A woman threw on my space cape and asked me how I was. “I’m good! Wow, what a day right?” She walked me over to where you get your pictures taken and once she deducted that I wasn’t going to pass out if she left me. I saw Alex in the crowds and told him to meet me by the bikes.

I cruised through a very quiet transition and made my way out to Alex and Abbe. I got a huge sweaty hug from Abbe (I was sweaty, not her). We made our way to the car and over to the hotel where I wolfed down my In-n-Out burger, chased with a beer! My throat was dry and sore from the dry desert weather and it was tripping me out. After some conferencing with Abbe and Alex we decided to go across the street to Duke’s to have dinner and some beers. I wore my medal and seriously, nobody batted an eye. The bartender did buy me a shot of Jameson once Abbe and Alex force fed her the Ironman news.

In-N-Out Burger after the race. So good.

Back at the hotel we were all asleep by 9PM. I wanted to go to the midnight finish but just didn’t have it in me, nor did I want me cheer squad to endure any more Ironman torture!

—

It’s been a really hard year for me. I always considered my family (who I am really tight with) immortal. Two great-grandmas who lived past 100 and my current grandmas and their brothers are still kicking it at 90. My grandma has a boyfriend for god’s sake (yeah, she’s awesome)! But my father lost a two year battle with cancer in the span of 1 week. One week from hell that I will not soon forget, as it haunts me constantly.

I was in the middle of training for Ironman when he suddenly died. I had taken on a coach for the first time and my volume was increasing in a way I had never experienced. His death set me back physically and mentally. Sonja, said coach we are discussing, told me to chill and let me know when I was ready to hit it again.

As my Dad lay in an altered state, breathing tube in his mouth, IV in his jugular, heart rate irregular, with no hope in sight (and believe me it goes against all I stand for to say hope is lost) I told him  that every race from here on was for him.

This race, this Ironman distance triathlon, was for him. At every point in which I thought I couldn’t stand the pain, I thought of what my Dad endured just to try and live another 10 years with us. He suffered day and night at Johns Hopkins, looking for a cure, a cure that doesn’t exist. Still, he fought, and I thought to myself, “If Dad suffered through days and nights of pointless chemo, then I will endure this race and the pain I feel as I am alive and must be thankful for this.”

I held tears back during the race as these thoughts flooded my brain on the swim, bike and run, then my tough guy alter ego kicked in and I forged ahead. My Dad never got to see me race, but I’m pretty sure he was there cheering for the first time at my first (and not last) Ironman.

Big ups:
Coach Sonja: for setting me straight. I now see what all of your tricks were for! Couldn’t have done it without your supreme coaching.
Coach Sean: for my swim moves, even though they need some work.
Alex: for kicking it mafia style in Arizona with Abbe and I. Your presence was needed.
Abbe: for being the best girlfriend and Ironman Support Crew a guy could ask for.
Dad Posse: for being my die-hard triathlon teammates
Runner Army: for being awesome and killing it with PRs at the same time I was in Arizona!

The Ironman. If you’re looking for something to believe in, why not believe in yourself?

 

RACE REPORT: 067 NYC Marathon – 3:00:48

Posted on by Posted in All, Race Reports, Running 22 Comments

The New york City Marathon is the single greatest marathon on Earth. I tell you this having only run 6 marathons total, 3 of them in New York.

2 million people come out to spectate along the course and the only time there aren’t any crazed fans screaming or banging away on cowbells is while going over the Queensboro Bridge.

—

Since April I have been training for Ironman Arizona, which happens to take place 2 weeks after the NYCM. As the race approached, Coach Sonja decided that the NYCM would be raced, instead of used as a training run! This both excited and terrified me as I would be held accountable for my performance rather than just take it easy.

Saturday night Abbe made an amazing dinner of Shrimp Fra Diavlo, one of my pre-race staples. Her friends Bradley and Chrisitin were in town for the weekend so they joined us as well as my brother Jeff and my soon-to-be sister-in-law Ali. I think I was in bed by 10, which was really 9 due to the time change that would take place in the middle of the night.

Thank god I slept well Friday night because I certainly did not Saturday. I woke up every hour on the hour. This was due more to shear excitement rather than nervousness. I love NYCM more than Christmas, so the faster it arrives the better. Instead of presents, you get pain! Super.

I met my neighbor Kelly at 5:45AM out front and we popped a cab to pick up Meggie. It was the most desolate I have ever seen 2nd Avenue.

We boarded the Ferry at 6:15 and soon found out Susan, Betsy and Megan also were on board. We linked up and formed an Army, a Runner Army.

Once we were at Fort Wadsworth I said goodbye to my friends as I was in the Orange Camp while they were in the Green.

I sat down in a sunny spot and proceeded to eat my steel cut oats, basking in the warm morning air. Previous NYCM’s were a bit cold and windy, or maybe, just maybe I’m getting tougher! Naw. You crazy Baker.

Having 45 minutes until Corrals opened I just kinda walked around aimlessly, saying hi to a handful of runners I knew, and using the port-o-potties when I passed them. At 8:20 they announced the opening of Corrals and since I was pretty much full of oatmeal and bored to tears I thought it appropriate to move into new scenery.

Arriving at my start Corral, there were maybe 100 people stretching and sitting around. Since I am anti-stretching, I just walked up to the front and started chatting with the race volunteers who were actually organizers and in charge of ‘stuff.’ Time passed and then they instructed us front guys that we were going to lead the Orange Corral out to the Start. “Whaaaaa?” “Are we the lead Corral for Orange?” She informed me that yes we were and she needed us to lock arms to prevent others front running past to try and get a better position. This was really cool.

Right before we walked out I heard them announce (in the distance at the Start) the Footlocker 5-Boro Challenge runners and my friend Elizabeth! I smiled and clapped and looked around wanting to tell someone, “Hey, that’s my friend Eliz! How cool!” until I realized all my neighbors spoke terrible English being from France or Italy or Ohio. Ha I’m kidding, just wanted to throw a dig at Ohio.

Slowly walking out to the bridge, of course there were some schmucks (from Italy) who ran around to get in front of us. They were yelled at by the organizers. I mean really guys? You are already like 4 rows from toeing the Start. I was right on the Start mats in the sun with 30 minutes to go. It was awesome. What was not awesome was all the dudes peeing on the right side. I don’t really care about seeing that, hell puke if you want to, I just don’t want to think about HAVING to pee.

The gun went off and in a hot second we were bookin’ it up the bridge. Knowing that even though I may be fast, I am no 2:45 marathoner like many of the guys behind me, so I moved far right. It was so cool having no one in front of me as I was crossing the Verrazanos. I will never forget it.

I will also never forget this: As we approached the apex of the bridge, to my right a few TV crew cars were passing, filming something behind me. Well duh, they were filming the Professionals coming up from the rear! SIDENOTE: Pros start in Blue and are situated like 500 yards behind Orange based on course turns. All of us running were freaking out. As the Pro group came up on our right we all started cheering for Meb. Lots of guys were yelling stuff about being on TV but I hardly think we were more interesting then the fellas cookin it at a 4:30 Per Mile Pace.

I flew down the bridge taking advantage of the downhill.

Mile 1: 6:26
Mile 2: 5:42

Sure enough as we hit Bayside and started making our way North I had to pee. Thanks a lot to the guys in my Corral peeing all over the place. I pulled over and jumped into a port-o-pottie, losing an easy 2-3 minutes JUST LIKE LAST YEAR. SIDENOTE: Last year I ran NY in 3:02:00 and attribute my pee break to not breaking 3 hours.

Today I wasn’t concerned with breaking 3. I broke 3 in January and that has satisfied my speed needs for now. I wanted to run a great race with what I have learned this year. Mainly, nutrition and how I can use it more efficiently. I was told by Sonja that eating ‘Race Burritos’ was out of the question. Instead I was going to go mind over matter and use a few Gu’s.
Onward! Picking up the pace and kicking it up I switched my Garmin to only show me my heart rate. I was maintaining a 173 and felt that it was a good rate.

Mile 3 – 6:09
Mile 4 – 7:15 (pee break)
Mile 5 – 6:12

Running up 4th Avenue I was very strategic on liquids, listening to my body very carefully to see if I needed Gatorade or not. I probably hit every other aid station.

Up ahead I saw a familiar form. This guy running topless, completely jacked, my height and on even pace with me. I had not only run along side of him in 2 other NYC Marathons, but had seen him at many local races. We both nod at each other (think Darth and Obe Wan before Darth kills Obe Wan) but in a friendly way. As I rolled up along side of him we fist bumped and say hi. We had a brief chat about pace in which he stated he want to go Sub3. Looking at my Garmin our pace was well beyond that and I assured him we were doing well.

We ran quietly side by side, overtaking many a runner, for the next 10 miles. We were a force to be reckoned with.

At Mile 6 I said, “Yo, names Baker, never caught yours in all these years of running.” “Names Rowland. Cool to finally meet you Baker.” It’s really fantastic to run with an experienced runner because you both know to shut the hell up and just run, chatting only when needed.

Mile 6 – 6:21
Mile 7 – 6:27
Mile 8 – 6:29

Cruising past Atlantic Terminal and onto Lafayette (and into Fort Greene) I mentally told myself Sector 1 was over, 3 more Sectors to go. (I break up races mentally by course logistics) I was still feeling really good, but knowing that Williamsburg and Greenpoint lay ahead (2 of my least favorite parts of the course) was bringing me down.

I’ll tell you what helped adjust my attitude! Bryan’s ‘High Five Station!’ SIDENOTE: Bryan and Deeds used to live in NYC, recently moving to Boston.  They invented the ‘High Five Station’ during a local race where I got to actually cheer and participate ringing the cow bell and high fiving runners It’s awesome. Well, just as I round a corner is Bryan with the ‘High Five Station’ set in place. I was on the opposite side of the street so I just waved as he yelled my name. Then, something inside me said, “No way. That just aint right.” I stopped and ran against the flow for a couple yards, almost hitting a German guy dead on. I jumped up and gave Bryan a sick high five, screamed, then went on my merry way. If you aren’t having fun out there then why the hell run in the first place right? Right?

Mile 9 –   6:30
Mile 10 – 6:25
Mile 11 – 6:35
Mile 12 – 6:19

I really hate the Pulaski Skyway too. It sucks. It’s hot, a crazy incline and a pre-cursor to the Queensboro Bridge which is just a mile away. Rowland told me we were hitting the halfway point at 1:25:00. I’ll take it.

Mile 13 – 6:32
Mile 14 – 6:40

Entering Long Island City I saw 2 familiar faces, Amanda and Stephan Walker, cheering me on! Soon after I ate the 1st of 2 Gu’s I would eat all day. I washed it down with some delicious water. Then, the Queensboro reared it’s mighty head and for the first time all day we were in darkness, ascending in pain. I felt like walking, but I held on. Many people passed me as I slowed my pace to a 7:45.

Descending toward mighty Manhattan the sound of the crowds ever so slightly grew until the noise emulated that of a football game. My pace quickened and as I rounded the corner onto 1st Avenue as I was overwhelmed with energy, the crowds 5-10 deep. I tried to not let it affect my speed, maintaining some sort of logical pace as I still had 10 miles to go. For those that have never experienced this moment in the race, it really is an overwhelmingly proud time to be a New Yorker, having your entire city route for you.

I had broken the final 10 miles into 2 Sectors, miles 16-21 up 1st Avenue into da Bronx and 21-26 down into Manhattan for the finish.

My crew (Abbe, Mad Dog, Stryker, Jeff, Ali, Phyllis, Jon, Billy, Shamin, and a few more) were waiting for me at 83rd Street. My heart rate monitor happened to be annoying me to I took it off and tossed it over to Abbe.  I also saw my super, Charlie, who was cheering people on as well! He yelled to me in his 80 year old Italian accent, “Chris! Go get em!” Rowland was gone since there was no reason for him to say hi to my friends, so I was off running on my own again.

Mile 15 – 7:16
Mile 16 – 7:57 (Bridge alert)
Mile 17 – 7:17

Getting up 1st Avenue takes forever. I was trudging along, trying to keep my pace in check, but knowing that I had lost some steam. My quads were on fire, which is not normal. It’s always my calves that seem to hurt during a distance race.

It got me thinking… what DOESN’T hurt during a marathon? There are no excuses. Pain, fatigue, upset stomachs and mental anguish are all foreseen factors. The question is, will you stop or will you dig deep and push forward knowing you have trained properly and have the courage to face the task at hand?

Mile 18 – 6:50
Mile 19 – 7:20
Mile 20 – 7:34

The Bronx wasnt as bad as I remember it the last 2 times. You’re only there for like a mile anyway. Mile 21 was like an angel greeting me back onto my island, sending me home.

Pushing through Harlem the blinding Autumn sun is right in your face. I saw Stu, Claire, Heather and Anna cheering me on right around Mile 22. Oh, and Marcus Garvey Park showed up right in the middle of Fifth Avenue as usual. I hate going around this park, such a time killer. When I’m Mayor I’m moving it between Avenues, a more logical setting. I ate my second and last Gu at this point, wishing for some speed.

Mile 21 – 7:46
Mile 22 – 7:29
Mile 23 – 7:42

The absolute worst part of the course is Mile 22 ½ to Mile 24. Its a steady uphill during the end of a marathon, not cool. I saw Amy here yelling at me to, “Go Baker go!” I tried. I did manage to hold a steady pace and as I neared the entrance to the Park where the incline leveled out I looked at the time. I had 15 minutes to travel 2 miles in order to break 3 hours. It was like some twisted math problem, and I hate math.

I thought to myself, “Hmmm, should I make an attempt? It is my backyard after all, I know the rest of the course like the back of my hand. I only have to go DOWN Cat Hill!” Sure, lets try and break 3 with 2 miles to go. I threw in the clutch and punched it.

I saw Erica and Jess followed by Annie and Moses, sending me good cheering vibes. I was passing people and any pain I was feeling was masked by rushing adrenaline. Could I run this hard for the last 4 Miles? No, but 2 miles, yeah I got this.

Mile 24: 7:30

Mile 25 was breached and I had 7 minutes to go! I kicked it up again, lungs burning. As I turned onto 59th Street it looked like an infinite distance to Columbus Circle. I was timing the distance between the Avenues, trying to make the numbers work.

Up ahead I passed a gal who yelled, “Hey! Baker!” As I turned I saw Elizabeth from the Foot Locker Challenge! Unable to speak, I simply waved 3 fingers in the air and pointed forward, knowing that she, a seasoned runner understood. We could chat later.

Mile 25 – 7:01
Mile 26 – 6:29

Passing Mile 26 the clock said 2:59:19. I had 41 seconds to run 400 meters, seemingly impossible and still I pushed it. (We always underestimate that 0.2 of the 26.2, it’s pretty far!) I passed many people, but time seemed to speed up as my running slowed down. I cleared the Finish with 3:00:48 on the clock! I felt great (aside from my quads being literally on fire) and was very happy with my time.

Sex/
Age		 Bib Overall Place Age
Place		 Finish
Time		 Pace/
Mile		 AG %
M33 2332 1202 241 3:00:48 6:55 70.1%

I had given it all I got that day and that was good enough for me. It was a 2 minute course PR.

In the finish chute I met up with Rowland who achieved his 2:59 goal. We walked and chatted about our races before splitting off. I jumped in the 86th Street crosstown and headed back to my neighborhood. The rest of the afternoon was spent with friends celebrating the run. That night Abbe cooked me a celebration meal and I was in bed by 8! I was pretty exhausted this time around (compared to previous marathons) and I think it had to do with my lack of sleep the night before.

Thanks to anyone I might not have mentioned that was out there cheering me on. It’s so great seeing all my friends out there supporting one of the greatest marathons! Thanks to Coach Sonja too for helping me through all this and getting me more fit! Now it’s time for Ironman!

RACE REPORT: 066 Rev 3 SC Half Ironman

Posted on by Posted in All, Race Reports, Triathlon 8 Comments

Revolution 3, South Carolina would be the second Half Ironman I have ever attempted. It fit perfectly into my full Ironman training and also be a nice gauge to see where I was mentally and physically.

—

Jim (from Dad Posse) drove the bikes down Thursday and visited family while Ed (also from Dad Posse) and I took a plane the next day. Our flight was 20 minutes late getting off the ground and we had a connecting flight in Charlotte 30 minutes after we were supposed to land. This wasn’t a good start.

I’m no aviation expert… but it seemed like our pilot gunned it the whole time as we almost made up for the lost time. Ed and I looked at each other, knowing we had less than 15 minutes to get to our plane once we hit the ground, and said “We can do this.” Ed got on his sneakers and I looked at the airport map. As we left the gate there was some old guy in a suit who was going to E33 as well, “E33? C’mon! Follow us!” as Ed and I full sprinted down the terminal. We all made the flight, but my man in the suit just walked it. Running is lame.

We took a propeller plane! too cool!

Jim and his brother Brice (also doing Rev3) picked us up and took us to a bar called Carolina Ale House in Greenville for dinner.

The next morning we all went to one of the 5,000 Waffle Houses in the area. It was to be my best meal in South Carolina. I ate so much food, knowing we would be doing test runs of the course shortly after.

We checked in at the civic center and spent some time in the expo buying things. Gotta hand it to the Rev 3 folks, its always so easy and such a pleasure to check-in.

Woo hoo, got a new Rev 3 hoodie! (Ray Bans sold separately.)

Next, we headed over to the swim course for a practice swim. It was on Lake Hartwell, a huge lake that was picture perfect. I threw on my new wetsuit (a TYR Hurricane Cat5) and jumped in. We all swam to the first buoy in kind of like a flying V formation. Brice’s friends Dave and Doug were now with us. The sun was out, we had Waffle House in our bellies, and the water was fantastic. I felt great in the water and the new suit was amazing. The only thing it was missing was an outboard engine.

Did I mention that Brice has a Ford F150 filled with bikes? Ed sat in the back and guarded them on the way to drop them at transition.

 

Back at the cars, we jumped on our bikes to make sure everything was working properly. We rode a few miles of the course before heading down to Transition to leave the bikes for the night. We then did an easy run to get our legs loosened.

Since we were all starving by now, we made our way to Logan’s Roadhouse for lunch and to watch the Clemson game. Sidenote: Clemson is 5 miles from the Rev 3 course and Jim is an Alumni. I was also following Kona very closely, especially since Coach S was racing! She did very well by the way finishing with a 10:08!

We left Logan’s and hit the local Publix food store to get some gear for the morning. Cafe Bustelo, Oatmeal, bananas, beer, and to-go cups were on the list.

After a quick rest back at the hotel we set out for our ‘pre-race’ meal… pasta! The first place we saw was an Olive Garden to which Ed, Jim and I all exclaimed ‘Noooooo!’ Passing countess steakhouses with names often ending in…’Roadhouse’ we came across a seafood place. Shrimp Scampi? Linguine White Clam Sauce? These were valid ‘pre-race’ meals. We sat down (our silverware wrapped in plastic) and saw that everything was fried! No pasta at all! Back on the road we were coming to the end of the strip, hope seeming to fade. Up ahead was ‘Tony and Charlee’s Southern Italian!’’ Jackpot! As we pulled up there was only one car in the parking lot. Perhaps the chef? Every other restaurant in town had a wait, and this place was empty, sweet!

I was elected to ‘check it out.’ As I entered, I approached the woman at the front desk and asked if they served pasta. She simply pushed a menu my way, as if pasta was some made up food group. The menu consisted of all meat dishes most of them fried. It also had Buffalo Wings! Don’t get me wrong, I love Buffalo Wings, but on an Italian menu I think not mon frere. I simply smiled at her and said, “Can I go check with my friends before sitting?” practically running out the door.

Guess where we ate dinner? Olive Garden and it was good! People were even smoking in the restaurant and I didn’t mind!

Sidenote: I am convinced people in South Carolina don’t like Italian food.

We were back at the hotel and asleep by 10PM.

RACE DAY

I naturally woke up at 5AM (cause I am weird) and queued up the Bustelo, made the guys oatmeal and put on my race numbers. I felt well rested and not nervous at all, ready to set it off.

We arrived at T1 40 minutes before my age group was to start. In T1 I ran into my friend Daniel who moved to Charlotte from NYC this year. We caught up and I introduced him to the fellas. The sun was starting to rise and the race coordinators told us we needed to get to the water.

We watched the Pros go then took our place on the beach. As the gun went off, I let a row of fast swimmers take lead. I jumped into the froth and started digging in, remembering not to overdo it at the start and get all worked up. I have done this enough times that fears of drowning are far from my thoughts. Falling into a nice rhythm and focusing on my form I made my way to the first buoy. I felt very fluid.

Moving at a steady rate, I took notice of the beautiful sunrise happening every 6 strokes. I was really enjoying myself out there and maybe should have had faster arm turnover. Even though I may not be the fastest fish in the pond, I am damn good at sighting and was precise with all my buoy turns. At one point someone was on my feet, which is normal, but this guy started climbing my body. Here I am just mindin’ my own business and this speedster is just gonna swim OVER me when there is plenty of water to swim around? Not on my watch. As his arms started pushing down on the back of my knees I gave a swift ninja kick to his chest. I wasn’t groped for the rest of the swim.

Exiting the water I was full of energy and my legs seemed to be functioning properly. I jumped into T1 (was caught by Ed who was racing the OLY) and made my way onto the bike course. Jim was right behind me and Ed snapped him in ‘speedy transition pose.’ (he was standing still, that’s why its funny.)

My legs were out of whack for like the first 10 miles. My quads were burning something fierce. Fierce! The scenery was nice and I kept wishing for the sun to come out. It did.

Once warmed up I tried to pass as many bikers as I could. By the end of it I would overtake 70 or so, but it was a slow and steady game. This is kind of my M.O. for triathlons since my swimming is slow.

There were so many cows and horses out there on the course. Well, not ‘on’ the course but in the fields around us. I kept imitating the cows (blank puzzled stares on their faces) as I passed them. “Bessy, look at them fellers. I heard about such a thing yars ago… I think theys call ‘em BI sickles.” There were also quiet a few dogs that went bat shit crazy when we rode by.

Somewhere around mile 15-20 I caught up with Daniel. We rode together for awhile before I pressed on. We both noted how windy it was! There were 30 MPH wind gusts all day. At times it felt like you weren’t moving at all.

The last 10 miles were tough. My only goal for this entire race was to ride the bike in under 3 hours so I pushed hard on the ending hills. I started thinking about Abbe and where she was in the Chicago Marathon. It was her first Marathon (and her birthday!) and I was really hoping she was having fun.

By now we were mixed in with the Olympic riders who started a few hours behind us. This helped my legs as I stopped picking people off due to not knowing which race they were in. I came in off the bike at 2:50 and was very happy.

Slapped on my sneaks and bolted out of T2. My legs were Jell-o.

Experience plays such a big role in the triathlon world. I was running 8 minute miles for the first 15 minutes, my legs burning and wonky like baby giraffe, but I knew they were reset any minute. We were running these windy switch backs, runners from both the Olympic and Half Iron all over. I like to have fun out there so I tease the volunteers asking them if I can take short cuts. Most of them, new to triathlons, assured me it was probably a bad idea and I would get in trouble. Agreed.

At mile 4 the Half Iron runners veered off to a new section of course, an out-and-back. It was here that I got my legs in full swing. I was decreasing my pace and would end up holding a steady 7 minute mile for this portion of the run. I felt good all of a sudden. I started picking off runners one at a time. We were running down a highway for this section and t was pretty dull. As mile 7 passed I kept wondering, “Where the hell is the turn around?” It soon came just past mile 8. My stomach took a turn for the worse right about now as well. I have never had stomach issues in any race. I eat burritos during marathons for god’s sake, so why now is it freaking out? Was I pregnant?

Looking back, I think I may have had way too much ‘course Gatorade.‘ As mile 10 approached I pulled over, sacrificing my pace, and started slamming water. As I walked forward, the sharp pain in my stomach slowly dissipating, I jogged. Slowly my pace picked up. Soon I was facing runners coming the other way, a few of them screaming, “Where is the turn around?” at me. I feel your pain. Then, I see Jim coming down the highway and he runs into my lane and gives me a high five while yelling, “Rocket Fuel!” This gave me a huge burst of energy and I sped forward. The last few miles would be sub7.

Sidenote: At the Fire Island Hotel they make a drink called Rocket Fuel. It’s a pina colada topped with 151. We love them, especially Jim.

At mile 11 the Halfers get mixed back in with the Oly runners. Up ahead I was like, “Is that Ed?” I yelled out to him, “Ed! You better hustle!” He laughed and turned giving me a slap on the arm, “Go Bakes!”

After a few more twists and turns I crossed the finish. My final time was 5:12, a 13 minute PR.

Sex/
Age
Age
Place
Overall
Place
 Swim
1.2M		 T1 Bike
56M		 T2 Run
13.1M		 Total
Time
M33 9
94
 43:51 2:46 2:49:33 1:34 1:35:14 5:12:58

I waited for Ed to cross, then he and I waited for Jim and then Brice. We were all successful in our own races, celebrating with a delicious ice cold beer in the warm sun.

That night we all celebrated with a big dinner followed quickly by bedtime. The next morning Jim, Ed, and I set off on our 13 hour drive back up to NYC. (we had breakfast at Waffle House again it was awesome again!)

—

Am I ready for my first full Ironman? Yes. (Coach S still has me on a steady training regimen.) Is it going to hurt? Yes.

RACE REPORT: 065 9-11 Heroes Run 5K: 18:11 – 2nd Place

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I love me a good 5k…
Who doesn’t? It’s a race where you get to run as fast as you can, pedal to the metal, for 3 quick miles!

Erica Sara convinced me to run in the 911 Heroes Run on the morning of the anniversary of the attacks. It seemed like a worthy way to pay tribute.

RACE DAY

Saturday morning was spent riding my Tri Bike 60 miles, so my legs were a lil tight Sunday morning. I actually didn’t even feel like running.

Abbe and I met Erica on 1st Avenue and we caught a cab over to Randall’s (who’s Randall anyway?) Island. We got to Icahn Stadium like an hour and change before the race start. Just then 2 choppers flew overhead heading downtown and I said, “Hey, look its the President.” A few minutes later announcers confirmed that yes, it was our Commander in Chief flying overhead. Cool!


For such a small race as far as numbers go, this was heavily sponsored. Chevrolet was there and they had like 5 cars on display. I actually thought we might be able to win a car and embarrassed myself by asking the Chevy guys.

After getting my bib we found the course map.

Soon after runners were instructed to line up at the Start while the opening ceremonies took place. These were some of the most touching and inspirational speeches I have ever heard before a race. We were reminded by Ryan Manion (of the Travis Manion Foundation) that there were thousands of others running the Heroes Run simultaneously! The singing of the Star Spangled Banner was one of the best I have ever heard at a race before as well.

As the gun went off I hugged the inside of the track and bolted. I thought of how Jesse Owens qualified for the Berlin Olympics and of Usain Bolt breaking the 100m record  on this very track we were on.

Exiting the Stadium we went out into the parking lot and onto some pedestrian paths. It wasn’t long before I could hear footfalls behind me and was consequently passed, moving into second place. If I was running 5:50’s he was clocking 5:30’s, and I knew chasing him down would be near impossible.

I kept my pace, and held him in my sights, moving toward the turn around point. I was really starting to slow and fade and tried to keep it together. As I came around I saw the guy chasing me was only 20-30 seconds back and knew if I faltered he would surely overtake me. I swung my arms, moved my feet and constantly inspected and adjusted my form. I also kept thinking how cool it would be to win a Chevy (were they actually giving away cars as prizes). I mean, they had 4 cars, so 2nd place would surely get a car right?

The last mile was on a gravel path which certainly didn’t help my pace. As I turned back into the Stadium I had a 100m straightaway to the finish which I DID NOT sprint. I was so spent, that Finish line never looked so good.

Time: 18:11 with a 5:52 pace and 2nd Place overall.

Abbe and Erica were there cheering me on at the finish! After I gave Abbe a sweaty kiss, Erica (who told me that if I didn’t win the race she wouldn’t be my friend anymore) assured me that 2nd Place was cool enough to still be friends. Whew!

This is me, spent.

Erica’s friends Grace (CPTC) came blasting in to take 1st Female, followed by Glenn who took 3rd in his age group, followed by Dani who also took her age group! What a day!


After I returned home Coach S. had me go back out for another 8-12 miles to do HR intervals! Whoa that was grueling. Thank god I ate a bagel after the 5K.