Category Archives: Race Reports

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.

—

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.

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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

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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.

RACE REPORT: 064 Fire Island 5K: 17:52 – 2nd Place Overall

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When it rains, it pours. I mean that literally, not figuratively.

Abbe and I left work on Friday and hit the Lurr (as I like to call it), or Long Island Railroad enroute to Bay Shore for the Fire Island Ferry. The train was so preppy I couldn’t stand it. It was like an Ad for Vineyard and Vines (which I hate). I soon found out that this was also the train out to the Hamptons, hence the preppy dress.

Bunny ears!

 

After hopping off the ferry you are immediately met with peace and serenity (especially if you are from NYC) because there are no cars allowed on the island. Its just crazy cruiser bikes and walkers. ‘Margaritaville’ if you will.

We were guests of ‘Dad Posse’ Ed and his wife Annelise. This was my 3rd year going and I was very excited, it’s always a fun time. Abbe and I stopped into their house (which is next to the Fire Island Hotel where we sleep). Cocktails started flying. In attendance was the entire ‘Dad Posse’ plus families! Role Call: Ed and Annelise plus Jack, Isabelle, and ‘The Karate Kid’ or Ben; Jim and Lisa plus Josephine and Elizabeth; Mike and Kara plus Kelly and Kevin and last but not least the pups Louis and Daisy!

After a fun barbecue we were in bed by 11.

We woke up at 5:30AM since Abbe had 17 Miles queued up for her training. While she did that I went with Ed and Mike to watch Kelly, Jack and Ben play a pick-up game of baseball. It was pretty exciting, the three kids are really good and knocked in a few runs!

One of the highlights for me was the planned open water swim we normally do. Ed, Jim, Mike and I all being triathletes love this kind of stuff because you cant get this kind of training in a pool. We decided on the 1 Mile course over the half.

We set off, it was a beautiful sunny day by the way, and I focused on my form. It’s so cool swimming open water with just 3 other people because it’s very challenging trying to keep track of where we all are. On the return I noticed my hands ripping through an invisible force field or something. I later found out they were jellyfish.

The rest of the day was spent at the beach and then later, we had a Luau for Elizabeth and Isabelle who were celebrating birthdays. Hawaiian shirts, leis and coconut drink cups… it was awesome! We had tons of great food, all kind of tropical in one way or another.

Pre-race rituals…

With the anticipation of rain (and Ed being quoted as saying “No way is it going to rain.”) we all went to bed just before midnight.

RACE DAY
Sleeping in until 8AM is a treat, especially on a race day in which gun time is 10:30AM and you’re sleeping at the Start. I took a look outside and it was steadily raining. This pleased me as the last 2 years its been 90 degrees and sunny, not ideal sprinting conditions.

We made our way to Ed’s place and fueled up on coffee and bagels, taking our time since we had 2 hours to the start. Ed, Jim, Mike, Annelise, Jack and I were the ones running, everyone else would be cheering (or in the youngsters case watching movies).

As we sat their joking about how many puddles there would be the steady rain turned into a downpour. It would go on like this all day… steady rain to downpour and back.

Jim and I did a warm up run about 15 minutes before the taking our place up at the start. The rain had calmed a bit but we could see huge lake-like puddles down the course and the organizers Anthony and John DiGangi (friends of mine) we warning us to be careful. In mind I told myself I was going to have some fun and just barrel through the puddles rather than trying to run around them. Steeplechase baby!

The gun went off and we lunged forward. The first ⅛ of a mile is a straightaway and 4-5 of us took the lead. I didn’t yet feel good, but have learned a lot about myself the last few months and knew that I need a mile or two at race pace before my engine turns over.

The puddles were insane. Most of them were across the entire path, 12-20 feet long and 3-6 inches deep. It definitely slowed us down when we hit them, especially since we were all kind of looking for holes where would snap our ankle if hit wrong. I have to admit, the first few puddles I was laughing out loud yelling, “This is so awesome!”

By now, the leader Josh (a Front Runner who I befriended after the race) was slowly pulling away from us. I was now in a pack of 3 with Alex and Davis and we were all running pretty steady, hitting Mile 1 at 5:32. It had also started to rain heavy again, but the positive thing was that we were all cooled down perfectly!

At Mile 1.5 a woman yelled “You’re almost there!” and I replied, “No. We are not.” Davis laughed and we both chatted about how we hate it when uneducated spectators yell things like that. Like at Mile 18 in a Marathon, “Looking good! Almost there!” C’mon! Really!?

As Mile 2 approached I was feeling pretty fired up. I saw Josh in the distance but knew I could never catch him with a mile to go. Still, I pushed forward. At Mile 2.5 there was a woman spectator smoking a cigarette. Once again, really?!

Coming down the home stretch I knew Alex wasn’t far behind me and I had to keep up my speed. As we rounded the turn to the 50 meter straightaway finish I punched it just to be sure, coming in 2nd Place overall.

Sex/
Age		 Bib Overall Place Age
Place		 Finish
Time		 Pace/
Mile		 AG %
M33 3 2 1 17:52 5:45 72.6%

As I crossed I high-fived Anthony and John who were flanking the Finish line, then found Abbe and gave her a kiss.

As I was getting water Josh, Alex, Davis and I were all congratulating each other and laughing at the conditions. It was one of the most memorable display of sportsmanship I have seen in a long time.

Back at the finish with Abbe it was completely down-pouring. We watched Jim, Mike, Ed, Jack and Annelise come through before we all decided to take cover as we were shivering. After the awards ceremony a bunch of us headed down to the after party at Schooners Bar. Did it stop raining? No. The DiGangi’s raised over $40,000 for the ABTA!

It was a fantastic race weekend that was capped off with Abbe taking me out to a healthy celebratory dinner back in ol’ Manhattan.

Reporting LIVE from the Queens Half Mary!

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I chose to not race this year’s Queens Half Marathon based on my experience last year. Basically, it was hot as hell.

This race happened to fit perfectly into Abbe’s Chicago Marathon training plan so she signed up. (I did warn her of the heat though…)

The night before we went out for her to carbo-load. I carbo-loaded cause that’s just what I do. Especially since Coach Sonja has me training 24/7 these days. It’s a really strange feeling knowing you will be going to a race, but not running it. It’s very… how should I put it… ‘peaceful.’ I was stress free and could go to bed at any time!

RACE DAY!

The next morning I woke up like 45 minutes after Abbe, cause I could! There were no D-tags. No pinning a bib onto my shirt or making sure I had a hearty breakfast. It was amazing!

We took a cab out there since the 7 Train wasn’t running and I got her to the corrals right on time. After saying goodbye and wishing her luck (I was also supposed to pace her in the last 3 miles) I set off and changed into my spectator clothes.

In my mind I smiled and said, “This is Chris Baker reporting LIVE at the Queens Half! Say tuned people!” I sought out the best place to watch the start and found my perch right in front of the giant globe fountain thing-a-ma-bob. The runners would be coming right at me before veering ti the right and there was no way Abbe would miss seeing my cheers.



After a slight delay the runners were off! I saw Susan who would go on to have a spectacular race but somehow didn’t see Abbe in the sea of heads.

After all the runners passed it got kinda quiet and weird. I was like ‘Whoa, this is spooky.”

I looked at the map and made my way over to Mile 10 which was like a 15 minute walk. Actually, while I was walking I thought to myself, “You know, if I just ran to Mile 10 it would be so much faster then walking.” But seeing as how it wasn’t a race day I decided to stroll. I also wasn’t expecting Abbe over there until 9AM and it was 7:45.

Out in no man’s land I was like the only human around. I made a call to my Mom and basically enjoyed the quiet morning.

I got very excited when the leaders started coming through! I had no idea what to say though because I know sometimes when I’m on Mile 10 of a Half Mary and people are yelling dumb stuff at me like “Lookin good!” or “Almost there!” I’m like shut up people! I look like crap, am probably sunburned and 3 miles is a long ways to go! Instead, I took pics and tweeted a lot.

I had no idea there would be so many of my friends running! Lets do a quick cast in order of appearance. Kevin! Lam! Susan! Michael! Dana and Bardy! Dori! and of course Abbe! There may have been more but I took off pacing Abbe. I was pretty excited to get moving but quickly realized that it was very hot out. I missed my cute shady spot at Mile 10.


Look! I’m running!

I felt very rebellious running in the race. I didn’t even get any water at the aid stations because I thought someone would go, “Hey man! Where’s your bib! Security!”

After pacing Abbe 2 Miles she told me she had the last Mile on her own so I dipped off to the right. I still kept her in eye shot in case she needed anything.

While waiting for her at the finish I saw this local woman peddling a cart around with some goodies on it. I was hungry. I approached her and was like, “Oh my god is that fresh mango slices!” “Si.” A whole bag of like 12 slices for 2 bucks! I then realized I must turn my attention back to the finish so as to not miss Abbe.

There she was, looking great and finishing with a PR! Congrats Abbe!

I had a real fun time reporting the race and being a spectator but deep down, I wanted to RUN!

RACE REPORT: 063 Run for Central Park 4M: 23:39

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The Central Park Conservancy Run for Central Park is a 4 Mile race that supports and raises money Central Park. Seeing as how Central Park is my backyard I felt like I had to run it.

The Friday night before the race Abbe, Jackie and I went to see Harry Potter. I’m not a die hard fan, but it was still pretty awesome. Jackie and Abbe made this mint, goat cheese pasta before hand which was so amazing! With that and the salty popcorn I would consume in the theater I would be sufficiently carbo-loaded for the next day’s race.

RACE DAY

Up at 6AM, fueled with some Bustelo and out the door by 7:30 to jog over to the start. I stopped and grabbed a banana to eat on the way.

My goal for this race was to PR since last Saturdays 10K was very far from that. My 4 Mile PR is 23:28 and I was really gunning to break 23 flat. That would be a tall order considering I would have to run at a 5:45 pace the whole time.

Hitting my corral and waiting for the start I noticed a ton of team shirts. Of course! It was points race for the local teams so all the speedsters were out in force. This would be good for me since I could run on the tails of these folks. Another thing of note, the temperature in the sun. It was HOT.

As the gun went off I hung to the right and sped forward. I heard “Go Baker!” and I looked over to see Kelly and Ali were sidelined cheering us on! Thanks!

We were all cooking pretty fast and Cat Hill came up like a heart attack. Not wanting to blow up and also knowing I had to keep my pace up I found a nice middle ground and attacked. It hurt.

At the top and as the course leveled out I thought “The hardest part is over.” True? Maybe. I mean, we didn’t have to run Harlem Hill so… Did I mention yet how I love this course?

We hit Mile 1 at 5:45. Right on target but deep down in my head I knew it would take a lot to hold this pace. My chest was burning, I pushed forward. Mile 2 arrived at 11:30, right on target. I grabbed some water and celebrated by dumping it on my head which I thought was on fire.

I chose to wear my Garmin for this race and I could see that between Mile 2 and 3 I was slowing ever so slightly to a 5:50 pace. I kept smiling, kept moving my legs and adjusted my breathing so I didn’t explode. I had forgotten about the West Side Rollers, a series of hills that one might not assume daunting. Daunting they are when blasting through the tail end of a 4 Mile race.

Trying to hold it together for the last mile was tough in that heat. I saw Lam and cheered him on. It’s always nice to see fellow runners in the race, even if conversation is limited! I also saw Erica Sara yelling and taking pics, cheering me along.

Thanks to my friend Mary for snapping this shot of the finish!

Cruising into the finish I was so happy to be done and to get my hands on some freaking water! After a quick high five to Lam I grabbed two cups, one for my mouth and one for my head.

My time was 23:40, 12 seconds off from a PR but still a solid race in my mind.

Sex/
Age		 Bib Overall Place Age
Place		 Finish
Time		 Pace/
Mile		 AG %
M33 137 181 41 23:40 5:55 72.03%

After the finish I met up with Erica Sara a couple yards in front of the finish to cheer on the rest of the runners. A few minutes later Abbe met us (she was starting a long run).

RECOVERY RIDE

Per the Doctor’s (Coach S) orders, I went out Sunday morning for a long bike ride up to Nyack again. 4 ½ hours and 67 miles later I returned home to go watch the Women’s World Cup with my brother, Ali and Abbe. It was a great weekend.

RACE REPORT: 062 Boomer’s CF Run to Breathe 10K: 39:02

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The week back from a long vacation is never fun, but I was very excited to have a race at the end of it. The Boomer’s Cystic Fibrosis Run to Breathe 10K was a new race put on by the football legend himself.

The Friday before the race I did some easy spinning to loosen my legs, then went to Abbe’s for dinner. Amanda and Stefan came over and Abbe made us some amazing pasta dish to carb-o-load on!

RACE DAY

Up at 5:30AM! What? Yea that’s early but stupid Irish steel cut oats take forever to make and I am beyond Quaker Oats. Sorry Wilford.

Abbe and I did a warm up run up to Central Park arriving to our respective corrals right on time. I get really stressed (quiet, pensive) before a race until I am in my corral ready to be let loose. Surprisingly there were not that many runners up in Blue. I had front row seats to watch Boomer give his lil speech! I was highly disappointed that Peter Chacha was not there to give race instructions as it’s always a good time (I learned this from Matt6) to yell “ChaCha!” as he takes the mic.

The gun sounded and we were off. First up was the notorious Cat Hill. I ascended it easily and kept my heart rate low, trying to build a nice pace. What I realized as I hit Mile 1 in 6:15 was that I was running to conservatively. My PR in a 10K ha me running 5:58s all day, I would need to make up some time in order to PR, but could I?


I was running steady with a group of runners that I decided were holding me back. Increasing the pain threshold I moved past them and started picking off people.

Harlem Hill arrived like a heart attack. It burned pretty bad and this time I didn’t pace myself, blasting up it. As far as strategy goes, I think I’m a fairly decent hill runner so I try and put some distance on people on the uphills.

One thing I took note of on this race, is that due to the fact that all my systems were in check and working great (legs, arms, food, heart, mind) that I was having a blast! I try to tell myself on occasion when racing “This is what you love doing, do not be so concerned with time, enjoy yourself.” I didn’t even wear my Garmin so I had no idea what pace I was hitting and you guys know me and my math skills, those Mile clocks are baffling!


At Mile 5 I saw my time and to PR I would need to run the last mile in 5 minutes or so. A tall order. I decided to try. I gunned it, and then I started thinking of my Dad and how although he never got to witness me race in person, he was probably watching at this moment. I was passing people and putting the pressure on my legs and lungs. It was really hot out by now and the sun was on top of us.

Cruising up 72nd Street I saw the finish and also saw a few guys flanking me, attempting to pass. I threw it into overdrive and blasted forward giving it all. I have no idea what my time was for that last mile, but I do now it was the fastest of the race.

This was my ‘Peter Pan’ landing…

My time was 39:02 which is easily 2 minutes shy of a PR for me, but still, it was so fun!

Sex/
Age		 Bib Overall Place Age
Place		 Finish
Time		 Pace/
Mile		 AG %
M33 136 44 10 39:02 6:18 69.6%

After a pear and some water, I marched over to the finish line and cheered on the rest of the runners waiting for Abbe and Erica Sara to finish. They came through, Erica Sara first then Abbe like 10 seconds behind her, both looking very strong!

We had some coffee and then took off to hit the showers.

POST RACE

For lunch Abbe took me out to ABC Kitchen in Union Square. It was amazing!

Then, we went to Brooklyn (I know, wow! so far!) to my friend Dimotta’s birthday party at Berry Park. I saw Dimots, Mirko, Lauren and Molly among others who I had not seen in some time. It was great catching up.

Next up, I took Abbe out to Dinner at Robataya in the East Vil. It’s a fairly new restaurant owned by the same guy who owns Sakagura, my all-time favorite restaurant! We had a plethora of Japanese food, all prepared with such detail. It was amazing. Abbe said to me that night “This should be great fuel for our workouts tomorrow!” We would come to find out that Japanese food is exactly the wrong food for pre-workout dinners.

SUNDAY RECOVERY RIDE (not!)

As I woke Sunday Coach S had me queued up for a 4 hour ride to Nyack. Fun? Of course. Always. I would sleep on my bike if I could.

It was a hot, but beautiful day and I set out on my Tri bike ‘Andraste‘ with a smile. I hit a number of hiccups along the way which really discouraged me and as I saw my mood change I realized I was cranky because I was exhausted.

The South path of the GW was closed so we bikers had to use the North, more ‘walker friendly’ side. I think I carried my bike up and down 7 or 8 sets of staircases.

Once I was in dirty Jersey I got cooking. Then, another problem… there was a roadblock on the Palisades and a No Bikers sign! What? Not wanting to end my ride I ept going straight toward Englewood New Jersey where I discovered the biggest hill I had ever seen in the area. It was a set of 4 or 5 consecutive bomb drop hills! I was flying, tucked in, maxed out on my gears. Then, to the left I saw some bikers walking their bikes UP the hill and I got to thinking, “Oh man, I have to go back up this monster!”

That’s exactly what I did. Nice and slow with an easy heart rate I ascended all the hills returning to the bridge. Then I remembered you can go under the brige to the Park portion which is just as fun. That’s what I did.

I forgot how pretty it is over on the cliffs overlooking he city (where Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr dueled many years ago).


45 miles and 3 hours later I returned home, ready for a shower, lunch and to put my feet in some cozy sneakers.


It was an awesome weekend of races, workouts, adventures and food!

RACE REPORT: 061 Sharkfest Alcatraz Swim: 59:46

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My friend Todd wanted me to swim from Alcatraz to the mainland, ‘Escaping Alcatraz’ in ‘shark infested waters’ essentially. I of course, signed up immediately.

SIDENOTE: This story is all about Adventure!

We left for San Francisco Wednesday night at 4:30PM out of JFK.

I shot a picture of some of our wall clocks… they always feel so welcoming.

We were flying Virgin America and I was instantly sold (being the digital master mind that I am) on their touch screen ordering system. You can order movies, TV shows, snacks, and yes… booze. You can actually start a tab and when you order a flight attendant quickly arrives procuring your ordered beverage. Amazing! Todd and I took full advantage of everything they had to offer and by the time we landed and our friend Buerkle (Kris Buerkle, but we call him Buerkle much like everyone calls me Baker) picked us up we were quite a handful.

Never having been to San Fran my eyes were a gaze at the beautiful scenery. Our first stop (after dropping our things off in Buerkle’s apartment in the Mission) was to get some Mexican food. It did not disappoint. One thing I noted was the temperature. It was like 55 degrees! Wasn’t it summer? Isn’t this Cali -forn-I-A?

Waking up at 6AM, the three of us set off for a white water rafting adventure. It was a 2-3 hour drive out East (weird saying that being from the East Coast) to Coloma. Gold was first discovered there along the river at the famous Sutter’s Mill.

I was taking in all the scenery, especially the mountains and all the different variety of trees! We are really missing out over here.

Arriving late to the white water rafting instruction seminar we had to quickly get in gear. We made a fantastic decision to rent wetsuits (since the American River’s water temperature was around 45 degrees.) Our raft guide would be Taylor, a very experienced 24 year old native. After some basic WWR instruction, helmet and life jacket checks, we set off down the river which normally outputs 1,200 cu ft/s of water was pushing 6,000 cu f/s! It was moving so fast! I was half excited and half fearful of this knowledge.

There were 7 of us in our raft… me, Todd, Buerkle, Taylor, Mike (55), his girlfriend Kate (50?) and daughter Michaela (12). We would come to learn that Michaela kicked some serious ass for being only 12. I sat front left in the beginning and as we hit our first Class 2,3 Rapids I took (along with Buerkle) a barrage of ice water to my torso, knocking me back. It was basically awesome. All of us quickly adapted and by the time we hit the Class 4 Rapids we felt like nothing could stop us.

For those of you who have not WWR before here is a bit of what happens. Just like the movies, you hear the water before you see it. Then, the raft speeds up and you enter the churning white water, paddling forward, left, right, or ‘holding on’ as Taylor would often instruct us so we didn’t get swept off the raft. In the front of the boat, it was much like being at sea where the nose would dip straight down into the rapid, then blast through the top portion of the waves, soaking those in front with an icy blast! Occasionally, we would hit giant swells sideways and get bumped around, talking on waves from different angles.

This was a 21 mile excursion down the South Fork of the American, so lunchtime was a destination, thank god. The 5 rafts of our company pulled over around 12:30 and we had a picnic lunch on the bank of the river.

SIDENOTE: This was absolute wilderness. From the start of the trip we were traveling down huge gorges and valleys where we might occasionally see a house on a cliff, but otherwise it felt very Wild West. This is going to sound really messed up (blame Hollywood) but I was imagining a bow and arrow attack from the banks of the river and what I would do in such a circumstance.

Once we were fueled up, our team was raring to go and wanted some big rapids. Taylor delivered, sending us down rapids called ‘Ambulance Chaser’ ‘Satan’s Cesspool’ and ‘Recovery Room’. It really was so amazing.

At one point as we pulled over to wait for the other rafts, Taylor noticed some trash in the river and picked it up. It was an unopened Coors Light Beer, ICE COLD! Todd, Buerkle and I shared it of course.

As our ride ended we lashed the rafts together to be towed in to shore. The kayaker who was riding along side of us jumped in our boat to get a ride and who was she? Louise Urwin from New Zealand, who is ranked like 9th in the world for down river kayaking! She was very cool and quite BA.

It took us 3 exhausting hours to drive back to San Fran. One highlight along the way was stopping at Ikeda’s Produce where I purchased what is as of now the best peach I have ever eaten. Perfection.

That night we ate a restaurant called Weird Fish. Oyster shooters, some Halibut, a lil Sav Blanc… everything the body needs… or maybe we were celebrating?

Friday morning Todd and I were on our own as Buerkle had to work. We went down the street to Tartine Bakery where I had the Morning Bun and an amazing cup of coffee! Tartine rules.

We then went to Union Square (yes, there is another!) and I bought a track jacket since I thought California was perpetually warm before I arrived. Then, we rode the Cable Car (hanging on the outside like in the movies and Rice-a-Roni Ads) all the way to Fisherman’ Wharf. We were now on ‘Special Mission: Eat Crabs.’ After cruising Pier 39 we decided on The Crab House as our choice restaurant. Sitting down at 11:45AM (we were on a Mission mind you) we ordered a beer and then something strange happened. The power went out… on the whole Pier! After eating our Crab Bisque we left in search of new electrified accommodations since power would not be restored until 2:30PM.

SIDENOTE: This would not be the last time we would loose power on this trip.

We made a quick decision to go to the Franciscan (est. 1957) where I met this guy. I would eat him and love every moment of it.

After lunch we met Todd’s friend Ingrid who showed us around Crissy Field. Locals were running, biking, wind surfing, swimming and having picnics. It was quite a cool place.

That night we found our self at a dive bar playing pool. The place was awesome and it was a clear realization for me that the New York I moved to 11 years ago was dead. This place made me feel like I was trolling the East Village in 2000 again, playing pool for fun yet thinking ‘I could get my ass kicked in this place for ordering the wrong drink’.

For dinner we went to the Noe neighborhood to a place called Lupa. It was right by Twin Peaks so of course we had to climb them.

Fueling up on some top notch Italian food, we felt ready for the swim. We were in bed by 11PM.

RACE DAY

Battle Stations were called at 6:30AM. After some quick oatmeal prepped by chef Buerkle we set out to Escape from Alcatraz (which is funny because we had to get to Alcatraz first).

Arriving at check-in we came to the visual realization that there were 1000 swimmers! This made me happy because it meant that the ratio of crazy people to normal people was not as tipped as thought. After putting our wetsuits on in the 52 degree air, we marched off to the ferries that were to ship us to Alcatraz.

I felt pretty good and really wasn’t that scared or nervous. I guess experience plays a role in that now as well as the fact that I do not believe in impossibilities.

2 ships took us across the Bay. We slowly turned around and anchored a hundred feet off the shore of Alcatraz Island before we all filed off out of the 2 side exits each ship had, swimming toward the front.

SIDENOTE: Many have asked me why we couldn’t jump off the actual island. The only answer I have is that I have no idea how 1,000 swimmers could all start a swim race on a rocky shoreline.

Once all of us were in the water and bobbing around in the 58 degree (cold!) water, they set off the start horn. No one told us where to sight, so we asked some veteran swimmers. Even though they gave us some answers, swimming toward tiny buildings in the distance and not even seeing the finish line makes it tricky. I’m used to orange buoys and yellow triangles.

This was the first time I actually practiced what I preached and started very slow and in a non-panicky ‘have to win this’ way. I simply just started swimming with the proper form Sean had been teaching me and began my journey. It’s funny, in a triathlon, bike or running race my head is in a totally different place. A competitive place, set on winning. When I am just swimming, I am so relaxed and chill, just enjoying myself. Maybe that’s the problem? Maybe I need t get more aggressive?

The water tasted great! I mean come on, swim the Hudson or East River a few times and I may have been swimming in Veuve Clicot. Mmmmmmm…

After 5 minutes the cold water was no longer a concern, I was in form and just plugging away and I really felt confident and fluid. I started pretending I was actually an escaped prisoner and how awesome i would be if I made it to shore.

Halfway through the swim we were in the middle of the Bay and confronting 2-3 foot rolling swells. It felt fun while swimming but if you sighted during one you got a face full of ocean. At one point I couldn’t see land, only the Bay Bridge to my left and the Golden Gate to my right. It was at this point I thought I saw a seal swimming next to me (which was obviously my imagination) and then started picturing sharks underwater watching me. I quickly thought of other ‘happier’ things to occupy my mind.

As San Francisco got closer, it got more and more confusing on where the entrance to the finish was. Then, a lone kayaker yelled at me, informing me I needed to swim to the left hard because I was drifting off-course. I said, “Just tell me where to aim.” He sent me perpendicular to the course I had been following, and I aimed for a Naval Vessel. I fought the current hard for at least 10 minutes and at times I felt like I was on a water treadmill.

Eventually, the sea wall came closer and I was able to take a right into the cove. Then, as I joined my peers again, someone kicked me right in the temple. Nice to see you too swim friend. The finish was in sight and I just stayed the course and wrapped up this escape. The bottom of my wetsuit pants were totally falling down and I’m sure my finish photo is hilarious. (Brightroom took it so I’m sure I’ll get it in the next month or two…)

My time was 59 minutes and change. Am I happy about it? Not really, but I am just excited at the thought of Escaping Alcatraz (and we didn’t get eaten by sharks!)

I walked over and met Todd (47 minutes) and Buerkle (42 minutes) and had a few high fives!

Later that day Todd and I set off to Saulsalito (Buerkle had plans) to have lunch at the famed Fish restaurant. It’s north of San Fran on the water and quite beautiful. After feasting there on crabs, clam chowder and tuna white bean salads we headed to Muir Woods to ‘deactivate the deflector shield.’

Redwood Trees and Return of the Jedi, nuff said. Unfortunately, there were no Ewoks hanging around.

Next up we drove the coast to Stinson Beach. It’s another amazing place. Fun Fact: Great Whites breed off shore from this beach. Fun!

We linked back up with Buerkle and his friend Jenny for drinks and food later that night. We stopped in to play some pool at a bar called Gestalt. Guess what happend when we were there? The power went out! Seriously, how strange is that?! The day before at Pier 39 and now in the Mission.

For dinner we went to a place called Locanda which was awesome! The Pride Parade was right out front so we had some serious entertainment through dinner. Todd and I hopped an 11PM red eye back to NYC, saying goodbye to San Fran.

All-in-all the trip to the west was superb. I have a new found love for the Northern California Coast and recommend it to anyone looking for some adventure.

SIDENOTE: Big ups to Neal of the Runner Army who was in San Diego swimming the La Jolla Pier to Cove Swim. In his words “This was my first ocean open water race ever, my first swim-only open water race, my longest swim race ever, and my first swim-only race of any sort in 22 years!”

Way to represent the East Coast, Runner Army!

First annual ‘Run for Bruce’

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Following the death of my father a few weeks ago, I have been overwhelmed with the amount of love that has come my way. It’s really quite amazing. One gesture, made by Samantha with the help of Abbe, was to have a run in honor of my Dad. It was in this way that ‘Run for Bruce’ was born.

—
The night before the run Abbe, Samantha and I went to Sweet Revenge to indulge a little bit. They serve wine and cupcake pairings. I know what you’re thinking, ‘Awesome!’


It was a great way to end the week and I recommend it to any lover of sweets.

Saturday was beautiful. I set off at 10:30AM to run a quick 3 miles before the Run for Bruce which would add another 5.5 miles to the equation. Arriving at Columbus Circle (our starting point) I was greeted with numerous friends and family, 35 in all!

SIDENOTE: My step mom Christine and step bro Patrick were also running, but in Virginia.

We set off along 59th Street, making a bee line for the West Side Greenway. My brother Jeff and Joey D took off, leading the way.


Unfortunately, starting a run at 11AM in the middle of June means HEAT! We were all sweating like crazy and stopping at water fountains where ever they were available.

I was bouncing around talking to everyone as I ran, it was really great. Eventually, I set into pace with my cousin Cat and friend Anna. We were trucking pretty good for the last 2 miles for sure.


The run ended at PJ Clarkes in Battery Park for lunch and beers. Jeff ended up being first with Joey D right behind. Slowly all the runners trickled in. PJ’s gave us a whole section so our loud-stinky-runner-ness didn’t disturb the normal people.

We all ate, drank and were very merry  from 12-3PM.

SIDENOTE: Claire left and ran another 4 miles! Go Runner Army!

To be straight-up and honest, it was awesome. The amount of people who showed up, and the fun we had running in memory of my Dad was really fantastic. Thanks to all my friends and family who came out for the run, it really meant a lot.

“All you need is love.”

I leave you with Alice, my friends Anna and Danny’s adorable little girl. She says she is going to run it next year.