Peachtree Roadrace July 4th, 2019

I get the text on July 3rd.  "Due to the high temperatures expected for the race tomorrow, all runners are advised to slow down and be prepared for worsening conditions."  I was kind of happy.  I need not worry about my time.  Welcome to Atlanta, home of the largest 10k road race in the world, the Peachtree 10k Roadrace.  Hills, humidity, and, hopefully, a whole lot of fun!

July 4th finds me awake at 5:30am to navigate the logistics to get to my corral (wave D) for a gun time of 7:15.  I plan to take a warmup run from my daughter's condo to the nearest subway station, then take the train to the start area in ample time to guzzle some water, hit the port-a-john, and jump into the crowd.  Here we go.

I leave the condo at about six o clock; the first thing I notice when I step out the door is the heat and humidity. It is a solid 75° out, and the humidity is thick, even at this early hour.  I walk along, loosing up on my way.  Stepping out of the complex and taking a right on Ralph McGill Boulevard, I start my warm-up run.  I am somewhat surprised that there is virtually no traffic, and aside from a man walking up the street the other way, there are no other pedestrians either.  Passing the Civic Center and the Mayor's Park, I take a right onto West Peachtree Street and reach the Civic Center MARTA station.

Seeing other runners puts me slightly more at ease; in fact, no one other than runners seems to be waiting for the train.  Most of the small talk seems to center around the fact that the last couple of railroad cars were chuck-full, and they still had five more stops before the start station.  When the next train arrives, it is obvious they are right.  A packed train, like the ones you see in documentaries about commuting in Tokyo, pulls in and opens its doors.  I squeeze in, stand in the middle of an aisle, and hope for the best.  Everyone is in their running outfits, a lot of patriotic shirts and shorts, tutus, and apparatus to hold water bottles.

The train ride lasts about twenty minutes, then we pull into the Lenox Station for the mass exodus.

Usually, you have to swipe your MARTA card to get out of the station.  Not today.  Getting out of the station finds a quick route to the starting line, complete with water stations already, and massive amounts of porta-a-johns.  I decide to take advantage of both; however, I clearly choose the slow line, and time starts to become a factor.  Luckily, my time finally comes, and I see a hole in the fencing leading to my wave, so it seems like things are ready to roll.

Standing in the corral was a strange experience; here, I was with a whole lot of other folks who I clearly have something in common with, and yet I felt all alone.  I am not really thinking about the race either, as strange as that might sound.  I was not worried about my time since warnings were issued about the heat; it was sort of irrelevant.  I was not concerned about finishing since I knew that I would have a slow pace I figured that the only thing that would stop me was an injury.



Anyway, my wave was called to the starting line, and all the injury thoughts vanished.  There was a music pumping, a DJ enthusiastically asking if we were ready, a flyover, and at last, a starting gun.

The race itself is something of a blur.  I was not really paying any attention to my pacing, but really just enjoying the atmosphere that I was in the middle.  It turned out that hydration was not going to be a problem because there were multiple unofficial beverage stations along the route set up by the various restaurants, businesses, and churches along the way.  Water, Gatorade, soda, popsicles, juice, beer, and yes, even one hard liquor stop dotted the course.  American flags were in frequent display.  There was a band playing different themed music at every mile mark.  Atlanta United's cheerleaders were cheering us on at Mile four.  I did have to take two walks up Cardiac Hill, a mile-long hill that starts a little after mile 3, but I was not the only one taking a breather.  Once I got by Cardiac Hill, I heard someone yell, "it's all downhill from here."  Metaphorically speaking, he was right on; however this Atlanta, and the hills never seem to end.

At about 5.5 miles and the one hour mark, I take a left onto 10th Avenue, heading for the finish line at Piedmont Park.  It turns out that indeed, this was, for the most part, downhill.  I start to speed it up, only to find that this street is considerably more narrow, making a clean sprint impossible.  Again, no worries.  My wife films me towards the finish line, then I turn and finally see it.  A quick finish sees my time at 1:09, pretty slow, but you would never know it considering the incredible amount of congratulations I received from the numerous volunteers.

The Peachtree is one of the few races where you only get a t-shirt if you finish, thus making it highly coveted and collectible.  The finishers head left into Piedmont Park to see four huge displays, each with the sizes of the shirts.  I head to the XL line, pick up my shirt, and feel like I have just won the Stanley Cup.

My wife and I walk around the park for about an hour, taking a few pictures and just generally soaking in the atmosphere.  We collect all kinds of swag and freebies, and even double back on the free Coca-Cola being passed out.

A long morning ends with a hot walk back to my daughter's condo.  Checking the results, I am pleasantly surprised that my time put me the top third of total finishers.  But no matter, today was all about the experience.  Assuming I hit the lottery again, I can not wait until next year.

In Central Park, where the runners are not hiding.....

My daughter, wife, and I decided to take a trip to New York City in mid-April to see a play with my sister and my nephew.  Here is a chance to run at one of the most iconic sites in, dare I say, all the world.  Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Central Park.

My wife, daughter, and I boarded the train heading to Central Park.  After a few minutes of wondering if we got on the correct train, we arrive at the 86th Street Station on the west side of Central Park.  We depart to the street to find a glorious (at least for running) day.  My wife takes a few pictures for posterity, and off I go. 

I am figuring that my Garmin is going to take a few minutes to lock into the GPS signal, so I slowly adjust all of my electronics (because I certainly do not want to screw this up) and enter the park at W90th Street.  The first thing that I notice is the sheer amount of runners of every size, every age, and every level that are training in the park.  During my training runs, I am lucky to see three or four others, even on a long run.  I am secretly hoping I don't end up looking like a fool, but then I realize that I will probably never get a chance to do a Central Park run again.

My warm-up run starts on the Shuman Running Track, on the Northwest side of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Resoviour.  The track itself is not asphalt, but a kind of compact gravel surface that seems to be very easy on the feet.  I slowly transverse counterclockwise (because that is the way that the flow of running seems to be going) at about an 11:00 mile pace.  Hey, this is a warm-up. 

I am figuring that 1k for a warm-up should be good since I am planning to go about 10k.  I feel that I am getting the lay of the land pretty well, so I hit 1k at about the South Gate House, head down the stairs to the 86th St Transverse, and kill the run.  Among the many dog walkers and baby strollers, I see, to my great delight, a water fountain.  I immediately have horrifying flashbacks to the fountains on the East Bay Bike Path, which looked operable but produced no water.  Imagine my satisfaction when I push the button, and water comes out.  Happy, hydrated, and feeling warmed up, I begin my Central Park run.

My general plan is to lap the Resoviour, then step off the track and head in sort of a non-planned zig-zag pattern to Central Park North, then come back down the west side until I have completed 10k.  I hit the Shuman just about at the same place that I left and start my run, easing into a slow pace of about a 10:50 mile.  The scenery is breathtaking.

I am also amazed at the cacophony of different languages that I am hearing from my fellow runners.  It seems like everyone who is running with a partner and conversing is speaking a different language.  Quite a change from Southeastern Massachusetts.

I lap the Resoviour in a little less than 20 minutes.  At kilometer three, I step off of the running track and step onto either the Bridal Path or East Drive, I am not sure which.  There are a couple of noticeable differences.  The first and most apparent is that the surface has changed to asphalt.  The second is that, while the running track was only used by runners, this trail was used by bikers, skaters, and pedestrians.  No matter, plenty of space.  I continue north until the 97th Street Transverse, then go northeast on what I think is an unnamed path.  A little less than three miles sees me at 32:00.  Slow, but I am taking everything in. 

It is about here that I screw up.  My trip takes me through the Conservatory Garden. Very beautiful and exciting; however, it occurs to me about halfway through that this might not be the place to run through.  I increase the pace and escape undetected.  This leads me to the southeast side of the Harlem Meer, so I decide to lap it.  The track is reasonably broad but starts to narrow slightly as you round the pond.  I am surprised to see that, for long periods, I am the only one using this stretch of road.  Quite a difference from the beginning of my run.

When I lap the pond, I am just under four miles.  My pace has increased slightly, but still very slow overall.  It is at this time that I actually leave the park and do my running on Fifth Avenue.  I am getting beautiful views of the park while actually getting a real feel for what it's like to be a runner in a big city setting.  I take a left at the Duke Ellington Circle to Central Park North.  It seems like there are quite a few more locals here, taking advantage of park benches or just going about their day.  It is here that I get my first spectator encouragement; "way to go, lookin' good" comes from a man sitting at Central Park North and Lenox.  At this point, he could probably tell from looking at me that I needed a boost. 

I reenter the park at East Drive.  This is where things get hilly, something I did not at all expect.  While the elevation was not overly drastic, it was in spots very challenging.  I choose to stay on East Drive for a while, but in my desire to get back to West Drive, I get hopelessly lost and disoriented.  I take something of what looks like a shortcut only to find myself sidestepping large rocks and climbing up flights of stairs.  It turns out I went through something called The Ravine, not exactly something conducive to effecting running.  My pace at times turns into a laughable 12:30 mile, but I do manage to find my way to the 102nd Street Crossing, which leads me back to West Drive.  Five miles at 56 minutes, and I am feeling sore and fatigued.

West Drive is very wide and has specific markings for both runners and cyclists.  The elevation is still hovering, since I am now feeling tired, even the smallest of hills become a challenge.  I hit an hour at the 97th Street Transverse, then run one more mile down West Drive until calling it quits between Central Park West and The Lake.  6.5 miles took 1:12:39, a slow eleven-minute pace, but this was more about taking in the atmosphere than working on speed.  Mission accomplished.

I started to walk back to the Central Park Zoo, where I was going to meet my wife and daughter.  It was wonderful to take in everything in the park, whether it be the statues, the artists, the gentlemen making giant bubbles, or the various attractions at the park.  I can quite honestly say that was the most exciting cool down I have ever done.

Check one off the bucket list.

The Loop

We all have our favorite courses, that lay of the land that you know seemingly by heart, the one that you know the mileage, the curves, the cracks in the pavement, the traffic patterns, the chance that you will see other runners, and so on. The one that you have in your training arsenal that you can use anytime.  And most importantly, for this post, the one you know you are going to finish.  I do not have a fancy name for my course, I just call it "The Loop."

The Loop is basically a counterclockwise run encompassing four major roadways that broadly circle my street.  Depending on my exact track, starting point, and ending point, The Loop is about four miles or 6.4km.  I have set up two Strava segments on The Loop, one a 1.1-mile start to end on one of the streets, the other a short third of a mile jaunt up The Loop's steepest hill.  Explaining this course to my wife has become routine, instead of the street by street instructions I usually churn out I can now simply say "running The Loop," and my path becomes clear.

About six months ago, I had a day off from work and decided to try to take a Loop run.  While most of my running training had been on treadmills since my recovery, I did not think the loop was going to be cause for any kind of alarm.  I had completed a 10km run in Atlanta a week ago, and while my times were not exactly Olympic pace, I ended the activity with not too much discomfort.  The Atlanta run was also hotter and contained many more hills than The Loop.  So what could go wrong?

I started off with the usual warm-up run, about .8 miles through a nearby park.  It is about 1:45 in the afternoon; the thought passes through my mind that I do not usually run in the afternoon (for whatever reason), but it quickly exits my mind to be replaced by other sorts of useless concerns and metrics.  A few leg swings and side slides, and I am underway.

The segment that I referred to earlier starts about .3 miles into the run.  All along the way, I keep telling myself that time does not matter on this run, a slow segment might even be a good thing considering The Loop has not been attempted in about a year and a half.  The turn comes, the sector starts, the downhill is entered, and I start to ramp it up, albeit slightly, still telling myself to tone it down.  I also notice that traffic is much more substantial on this narrow road then when I usually tackle it in the morning.

There are three significant turns on this segment; the first is when the road finally flattens out.  My mind starts turning to final pace numbers and how this is going to look on my stats.  This should have been my first warning sign.  Call it superstition, or call it fatigue, but whenever I start to envision finishing way too early in a run, it usually does not end up well.  Today would be no exception.

My app tells me that I have reached the first-mile mark at 10:00 and that my heart rate was hovering at about 150 bpms.  One minute later, I pull up.  I am pretty much out of gas, and I have to make a decision about what to do now, continue walking and hope I can at least get in a workout, or abort and walk home.  I choose the latter.  Even though my running training is still in the opening stages, I find this to be kind of humiliating and, worse, mysterious.  Why did I bonk at such an early stage in the run when I completed a run 5 times longer only a week ago?

Six months pass, and my running sessions are sporadic, at best.  Strangely enough, this failed run seems to have spiraled me into a sort of fear of running outside.  Would every run end up like this?  Why did I fail, or maybe why didn't I know why I failed.  The next five months see my running activities always on the treadmill, with no regular rhythm.  Ordinarily, I don't mind the treadmill, but problems seem to happen when using it exclusively.

I documented my runs during our vacation to South Carolina, but still, that was the only outside running that I attempted.  My March vacation rolls around, and both my wife and I decide to get new shoes, followed by a test activity at a nearby park.  My wife tests her new shoes with a walk, I decided to take a five-mile run, which I complete with moderate difficulty.  Looks like it's time.....to try The Loop.

It is a sunny day, about forty degrees, a slight breeze out of the east.  A mile warmup run goes pretty much as planned, ending up in the aforementioned park for leg kicks and sidewinders.  Feeling more than a little apprehension, I start the run and proceed out of the park.  While I am telling myself to slow down, my pace is pretty good, or at least relatively fast at about a six-minute kilometer.  I hit a left, move down a hill, and at 1k am shocked to find a 5:59 split.  My heart rate is already in the mid 140s, so I figure I will have to either slow down soon or die.

2k is about where I bonked on the previous run, and interesting enough, it is where the first real hill is situated, so I slow down the pace.  I also pass the point where I gave up last time, so a minor victory is achieved.  The hill sees my pace slow, and my heart rate increase, but I make the left turn that I did not make before, so even though my heart is thinking that I am sprinting like a twenty-year-old, my head is feeling somewhat euphoric.

The next 2k go without much incident.  The course goes downhill very slightly, and I occupy a stretch in the road's bike lane, giving me plenty of room.  My pace is slower, but I am feeling like I am going to finish, which is the primary goal on this day.  A left puts me on Main Street and sees me staring down the barrel of Cemetary Hill.

Cemetery Hill is, without a doubt, the most challenging part of The Loop.  It is only about .3 miles, but the grade often reaches 6% and towards the end of the run no less.  Feeling confident that I have made it this far, I put my head down and start to work up the hill.  After almost four minutes and a heart rate that is rising as high as the hill, I am at the top and looking forward to wrapping the run up.  I take the side roads instead of taking Main Street straight, mostly to get a little downhill time.  This is the way I usually go, so I will also get some useful analytics as to comparing this run to others.

The last 1k is surprisingly uneventful.  The kids at the school on Main Street are at recess, and the screaming helps boost me on, kind of like spectators at a race.  I hit 6k at about 38:30, surprisingly fast, but I am only thinking about finishing and calling it a success.  I turn to my street and give a little kick at the end, shutting down at 6.5k.

A finish, a finish time of 41:39, a Strava effort of 138, and five total miles.  Did I mention that all this happened on my birthday?  Yeah, baby, great present!

The Greenville Swamp Rabbit Prisma Health 5K Full Report

I returned to our Airbnb after my run on the trail Friday and, just for the heck of it, checked to see if there were going to be any road races on Saturday, and if so, was it possible for me to sign up.  Checking the computer, I am shocked to find that 1)  there is a 5K in Greenville on the 23rd  2)  there are still a few open spaces to sign up  3)  a good chunk of the course is on the very same Swamp Rabbit trail that I just ran on and 4)  the starting point is actually the same starting point that I used today.  Sign me up!

A real early start time (7:30) sees me having to wake up at about six for a quick breakfast and set up.  I am out the door at about 6:30 for a twenty minute or so drive, figuring to park at the same church I did yesterday.  It is still dark, and it is also relatively cold and rainy, but since I am not really expecting to hit any type of time goal, I am not too concerned.  Both commute and parking availability are not really an issue.

I am surprised to find quite a crowd already there.  I am also surprised to see quite a few racers of all ages, especially kids.  There is always a smattering of very young and older participants at every race, but this one seemed overstocked, to say the least.  Everyone seems to be gathered in an open space just outside the bicycle shop at the starting point, so I kind of mull around aimlessly looking for the race bib table, finally locating it under a tent.  I was a little concerned that, since I signed up so late, there might be a problem with my registration, but no worries, I grab my bib and am good to go.

I decide to be touristy (I think that's a word) and decide to take my warmup run on the trail, heading in the opposite direction that I went yesterday to both avoid the crown and see just a little bit more of the trail.  I am intrigued to see that this part of the trail seems to fit the old railroad line picture more than what I saw yesterday.  I only went out about a third of a mile, but it had a backwoods feel, complete with a skeleton of an old factory to the west side.  It also crossed the Reedy River, where you could see the old remnants of the bridge.  After about eleven minutes, I am back in the crowd, again moving aimlessly among the back of the pack.

After some small talk with a fellow racer, the race is about to begin.  The horn goes and being a back of the packer, I really do not move for about a minute.  When I finally cross the mat, the course takes us on a brief tour of the somewhat antiquated but none the less charming immediate neighborhood, featuring small 1930's housing and, in some spots, very narrow streets.  Since time is not really a concern, I am enjoying the slow pace and the scenery.  10:24 at the first mile.

The rest of the race is, for the most part, on the trail that I ran on yesterday.  My K splits are on either side of six minutes, and at about two miles I am starting to feel some fatigue.  The finish line is visible at about 4.25km, it is a sort of a "take a left and another quick left" making it not only visible but audible (sounds like a party) as well.  The first left is at about 4.5km, but by now I am really fighting it, so my pace quickens briefly, then falls as I am out of gas.  I am passed at the last second by a blind runner with an escort; I would like to make the excuse that the finish line was somewhat at an angle and that I lost my bearings at the end, but the fact is probably she was better than me.

I again wander aimlessly in the finishers tent, drinking the free water and eating the free oranges.  I am struck by the fact that my lungs feel incredibly uncomfortable, they feel as they were swollen.  Then I realize I forgot to shut down all of my measuring devices, causing some tech panic.  Despite all of this angst, I am still pretty happy to have completed my first 5K in a while, so after picking up my very sweetly designed t-shirt, I am off to the bus to return to my car, but not before I get someone to take a finish line photo.

The bus ride home takes about fifteen minutes, but I am focusing on relaxing.  As we pull up to the start and depart the bus, I can see on the trail that some of the runners doing the half-marathon are pulling up to the area.  It kind of makes me wonder when I will be in good enough shape to run one.  Not today.

Okay, I am going to try to post my stats in a table, keep your fingers crossed......

Time	30:39.1
Pace	9:51
Overall	198 of 459
Age Division	7 of 15
Strava Effort	98

Not bad, but I can do better.  Thanks for reading!

The Greenville Swamp Rabbit Trail

You know how much I love to run on trails.  When I created this blog, I wanted to write about the various trails that I have run on rather extensively, however that has not seemed to come to pass.  My recent vacation in South Carolina saw a run on a trail for the first time in quite a while.  Time for a full report.

The Greenville Health System Swamp Rabbit Trail runs about twenty miles on an old railroad line.  It starts in the nearby town of Travelers Rest and follows the Reedy River right into the center of the city of Greenville.  It is asphalt and has considerable amminities along the route, such as water fountains, restrooms, benches, and plenty of parking.  It seems to be heavily used by cyclists, although I only saw a few bikers during my run, probably due to the weather.

I had a few options to park along the trail, I decided to try area near The Swamp River Cafe & The Greenville Bike Shop about 2.5 miles from the city.  I parked in the Mount Calvary Baptist Church parking lot across the street, not really realizing the difference between the store's parking, and the trail's parking.  The weather is rather cold and rainy, but not overwhelmingly so.  After some leg swings and gear checks, I start my warmup on Old Bleachery Road and take a quick left unto the trail.

This first part of the trail featured not much of anything in terms of sceanery.  It was a fairly mundane one meter of warmup running, broken up only by another runner and some agile dodging of puddles.  The end of the warmup featured an intersection of the trail, a street, and a railroad.  You would expect plenty of warning about this intersection, however, there was an actual gate that blocked off your ability to cross the tracks if a train was approaching.

(Yeah, I know, you can't really see the gate, but I thought the pavement orders were equally interesting.)

My run starts after crossing the pictured intersection.  Again, there is plenty of tree-lined trail, not that I need it on this rainy day.  There is only one other runner, quite a bit in the distance.  One side of the trail features a sort of storage depot for train cars,  while the other side sees what looks like tracks from yesteryear.  About 1K at a 6:30 pace and not feeling that bad.

The course moves over another intersection, a quick right and left jag, under an overpass, and by a memorial to FDR.  It is at this point that I am blown away by something on the track; a rubberized surface.  I quickly shift my run right on it, and it is heaven.  It feels like it takes about twenty years off of my legs.  There were some puddles on it, but it still felt wonderful.  Strangly, my pace did not seem to improve, but I felt like my goal of going 7K would not be much of a problem.

I continue passing some parks and soccer fields on the trail, and the buildings and activity seem to pick up as I begin to approach the city limits.  Things are still going smoothly, but you could sense something is about to change when you start to approach the  Route 123 overpass.  I concentrate on dodging what I think is a group of birdwatchers (I don't think they were watching the trail or me since I almost bowled one over) when I notice the trail getting wider, and then under the very colorful overpass pillars, the trail seemed to stop. 

I followed the sidewalk on the street for a short distance, then the sidewalk seemed to get wider.  At this point, the trail was sandwiched between the river and some modern looking buildings that I believe housed apartments.  I now know that this is Falls Park on the Reedy, a nice green park located in downtown Greenville.  Falls Park because.............

I pass the falls and head way down into the park, reclimb some stairs (and trip, much to the amusement of a couple of city workers) and head back to finish the run, figuring that I have hit halfway.  But before I leave the park, I take advantage of a wonderful amenity, a regular old bathroom.  It looked like it was in a hotel parking garage, but it said public, which was all I needed.  It was even empty and relatively clean.  What did I do to deserve this?

Once I navigated back to the overpass I knew it would be a clean run back to the parking lot.  I am at about 4k, my heart rate is elevated to about 145 and I am sucking a little wind, but my pace is still where I wanted it to be at about 6:30km.  I now take full advantage of the rubberized track since a) it is now on the right and b) I am pretty much alone.  It really makes the legs feel good. 

As things get more rural, I am aware that the run is coming to an end.  Pace and heart rate are about the same, although I am looking more and more at my Garmin to try to figure to get past and 7k.  I know I am getting close when I reach the railroad intersection, so I try to pick up the pace a little bit, but it doesn't really show.  I recognize the sharp curve near Hampton Street and my run is about at 6.8km.  A quick burst, a right on Hampton Street, and I hit the coveted 7km for a successful run.  48:17 for a time, a little slower then I would have liked but I figured that I lost a lot of time at the park and at the restroom.  I get a text from my daughter requesting my chauffeur services, and away I go.

I found this trail to fast, flat, clean, and a pretty nice way to see the Greenville area.  I was a little surprised to find it so quiet, even with the bad weather.  Gray gives the trail the full five stars and recommends you give it a try running, cycling, or walking if you are in the area.

Disappointment

One of the things I enjoy about running is not only running in different places but checking these places off as having been run.  I am big into states, having run in six of them, and having one run transverse two states (more about that later).  The middle of last week saw the opportunity to not only check off another state in Virginia but the District of Columbia as well.  Things seemed to line up very well, but then.......

My wife and I decided to take a trip to Greenville, SC to visit our daughter who was speaking at a medical conference in said city at the end of the week.  Our itinerary had us flying into Baltimore, renting a car and driving to Alexandria, VA to stay until early Thursday morning.  We planned on spending some time with my aunt, uncle, and possibly my cousin, who live in the area, then driving to South Carolina on Thursday.  Our hotel was very close to the Woodrow Wilson Bridge Trail, which crosses the bridge into Maryland, provides a very slight pass through the District of Columbia over the Potomac River, and at about three miles provides a very manageable length.  Perfect, let's go.

The first sign of trouble comes at the rent a car office in Baltimore.  The attendant offers us an upgrade to a larger car or an SUV, he suggests that this might be a good idea due to the impending winter storm that is expected to hit the area tomorrow.  Huh?  My weather check had informed me that the about an inch of snow was to be expected Wednesday and that temperatures would be around freezing.  Not ideal running weather, especially when only minimal foul weather gear was packed but certainly more than manageable.  Wait and see mode activated.

We arrive at the hotel at about 2:30, and upon contacted my aunt, she says she would like to meet at a restaurant at about 5:15.  I did not want to be too tired for our get-together, so I forgo an outdoor run and opt for a quick couple miles on the treadmill.  The rest of the day goes very well, we make plans to get together tomorrow, "depending on the weather."

I wake up the following morning, and yes, there is snow on the ground and in the air.  It is very heavy snow, and I am finding that the sidewalks and pathways are not being cleared very well.  I make a quick assumption that if that is the case, then the trail is not going to be cleared as well, and my Virginia run is canceled.  I do, however, put in a few more miles on the treadmill.

Our visit to my aunt & uncle's home is wonderful, except that my cousin is sick and can not join us.  The snow has turned to rain, making everything wet and sloppy.  I am in a strange sort of running panic mode, considering my emergency options on how to get in even a small run by tomorrow morning.  Maybe the trail will be open?  Maybe I could run around the hotel parking lot?  Maybe a quick out and back along the main drag?

In the end, it's just too miserable to go for a run, and I have a long drive ahead.  I even consider stopping on route to check off the state (yes, I did look up trails that go through Virginia and North Carolina) but in the end, we just drive straight through.

Disappointing to be that close, with no results.  Here's hoping that I'll get another chance to run in Northern Virginia.  We'll see.

Happy New Year

It has been a while since I have written anything, mostly due to my holiday work schedule.  Here are some brief updates about what has been going on running wise and otherwise.

I did not do a single run from Thanksgiving through to Christmas.  I ended up working every Saturday and working late every weekday, so recovery time for work had to be monitored very carefully.  I did two treadmill runs of 4 and 5 miles between Christmas and New Year's and surprisingly felt very good on both runs.  I am figuring that due to the work grind that my fitness did not suffer, if anything it might have improved.  On Wednesday I hurt my big toe, it felt very stiff and sore for about 48 hours, so I cut back the running this week to rest it.  It feels very good at present (kiss of death) so I am planning to try a treadmill either tonight or tomorrow.  We will see how it goes.

The new year brings with it the race schedule for 2019, and here is what I am thinking.  I would like to do the Bradley 10k road race in my hometown of Windsor Locks, CT on the last Saturday of March.  Runners World had a piece a few years ago about a gentleman who returned to his hometown in Ohio from the point of view of a runner; while I thought it was OK from a nostalgic perspective I also thought his subtle political barbs were insulting and unnecessary.  Bottom line, let's see if I can do better.  I would also like to do the Peachtree 10k in Atlanta on July 4th.  The lottery is in a couple of months, let's see what happens.  The Westport Half Marathon is looking like it might be slipping away, it is scheduled for the middle of May and I don't think at this point in time that my training is where it should be.  I will keep you posted.

I am finding something of a problem contemplating where to run.  I have three options, a home treadmill, gym treadmill, and outside.  I am finding that instead of just doing it, I am spending way too much time evaluating the pros and cons of each until it is too late.  Perhaps dropping the gym membership (I joined to get into shape for work, and the running was sort of a bonus) might be a good idea here.  Any suggestions?

I got a bunch of good books for Christmas.  Two are about the English Premier League, one is the new one by the late Charles Krauthammer, and one is about adoption in the middle part of the last century.  So far the adoption book is the most interesting, but I have started all four without finishing any of them, so that might change.

Happy New Year!!