Thursday, September 21, 2006


First run since Reach the Beach five days ago. Trying to give the ankle time to recover fully. Annoyed that it's *still* very slightly swollen and some restricted movement, but thankful that running seems to be no problem at all, just worried that I'm delaying full recovery. 7.2 miles to the lake, around, and back. 6:30-something pace, Garmin was dead, ran extra because of traffic crossing Main St. so not exactly sure, but definitely sub-6:40. Pretty good/strong run.

Pushing, flying even at some points, but relaxing. I recently randomly read something in some running book at Borders about how running doesn't actually require much strength, it's about momentum, forward, falling forward, and keeping the momentum going. Thinking about that actually seems to help, I think my form is improving, ever so slight forward lean, falling.

Anyway, felt like a real runner. Almost thinking I can start putting on some more serious miles, gear up for marathon again, maybe, after so many races this year, some injuries, back to build up, we'll see.

Don't want to continue with the crazy race schedule, but here are some upcoming possible races ...

Run For All Ages 5K

Sunday, October 29, 2006, Noon
Wakefield, MA

Falmouth in the Fall 7.1M
Saturday, November 5, 2006, 1:00pm
Falmouth, MA
Same course as the famous Falmouth Road Race

Veteran's Memorial 11K

Saturday, November 11, 2006, 11:11am
Stoneham, MA

Feaster Five 5M
Thursday, November 23, 2006, 8:30am
Andover, MA

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Reach the Beach Relay 2006

Reach the Beach Relay, 2006. Just the facts for now.
Team:   Don't Drink That, It's Not Gatorade
   6 males, 6 females, ages 21-47
Distance:   210 miles
Start Time:   11:40:00 PM, Friday
Finish Time:   5:40:09 PM, Saturday
Time:   28:48:08 (8:14 average pace)
Overall Place:   87th out of 300
My legs:
LegStarted   Miles   Time   Pace
2   12:15 PM   3.10   19:45   6:22
14   9:30 PM   7.77   52:30   6:45
26   8:00 AM   4.50   28:57   6:26
Totals   —   15.37   1:41:12   6:35

Awesome race, awesome team. Overall, tougher course than Hood to Coast, at least my legs which all had net elevation gains, some steep, up and down; the first 5K leg seemed/looked flat but gradually rose 200'. Volunteer support good, but not as good as H2C. At H2C they really had a good handle on calling out the numbers of incoming runners at each check point; at RTB it was up to team members. And though the "Dave's" porta-potties were okay, nothing beats the Oregon honey buckets!

My first leg, a quick 5K on what seemed, even while running, to look pretty flat but turned out to be a net 200' elevation gain, no wonder I felt like I was bonking by mile 2. Finished with a respectable sub-20:00 time. My second leg, just after dark, was the best, quite hilly, net 50' elevation rise, but 260' range. I ran pretty hard and tough, just kept pushing, lotsa kills; wicked dark, tiny flashlight, kept imagining myself hitting a pothole and flying, or getting hit by a car or van. My third leg, the next morning, after driving the van for two hours, then finally sleeping for about fifteen minutes, was 4.5 miles, mostly uphill it seemed, though some huge downhill as well, 200' elevation gain, 275' range, very tough run.

But after, it was weird, I had all this extra energy, like I got a second wind, I was jogging all over the place at the subsequent exchanges, I volunteered to run for any van #2 runners who my get injured, almost wishing for it!

One strange thing about being in van #1 (Hood to Coast I've always been in van #2), is that, unless you start ridiculously late or are ridiculously slow, at some point, you will drive past the lead runner of the entire race. Driving the van to the last van exchange in the middle of the night, all of a sudden, I see no more runners, I ask a guy at an empty exchange, he said that five runners have gone through so far, five. We drove on, counted, and I saw the #1 and #2 runners - I yelled to them - "you guys are 1 and 2 - there are 298 teams trying to catch you!"

Beautiful course, love the White Mountains, I'd live there if I could. And great weather, though hot on Saturday. And the team was great. I hooked up with them on a Web bulletin board, very out of character for me. Worked out great, no jerks or uptight people, no complaining, very laid back and fun.

Thankfully, my ankle held up admirably, only slightly worse for wear, still a little swelling and restricted movement, but fine for running. I should take it easy for a few days, get it healed up properly so it doesn't become a festering problem.

Monday, September 11, 2006


Phew. The right ankle, rolled in the Thompson Island 4K ten days ago, is, I think, okay. Now. Initially, I thought it was going to be fine right away, but it swelled up much more than expected the next day. I was supressing a freakout about Reach the Beach, just five days away now, worrying that I'd screwed that opportunity.

I was, unusually, wise and conservative, resting, icing like madman, elevation, nsaids, protein. Elliptical once after four days, 52 minutes, hard, then another four days rest, then today, the moment of truth, swelling down to *almost* nothing, ready to test it out.

So, 5.5 miles I ended up doing on treadmill, had no plan, just playing by ear. A surprisingly great run. The rest time yielded a springy energetic run, the ankle is *fine*! Like pretty much totally, didn't really need ACE bandage I gingerly administered. Still slightly fragile if I move it *just* right in the wrong direction, but fortunately, strangely, that direction is an unnatural position for running.

Five mile splits were like 7:22, 6:59, 6:49, 6:44, 6:24. Not bad at all. Thank Evolution. Maybe one more run, treadmill or road, before Reach the Beach.

Really dodged a bullet. I'm done with cross county courses (I rolled me left ankle, much much move severly, two years ago one mile into a Turkey Trot 5K in Newburyport, MA - foolishly finished, 21:28, up on my toe, making it much worse, idiot). Despite a fair amount of wobble board exercises which I do, my ankles may just not be suitable, or maybe I'm just unlucky, or maybe I'm just 47.