Still hot hot hot

The temperature reached 96 yesterday but the dew point pushed its effect way over a hundred for the third day in a row. At noon I led the running group at work out on its regular weekly run but since it was so hot the group only went two and a quarter miles, up Capitol Hill so I could practice on a hill one more time before Saturday's hilly Lake Tahoe Relay, where I will be a guest runner on Bex's team. The heat reduced participation in the group to one, that being me.

(Left: Bex passes by Emerald Bay as she anchors her team at last year's Lake Tahoe Relay.) A couple of years ago I organized a running team at work to participate in the 2006 Capitol Hill Classic 3K Team Competition. I invited Bex to be a guest runner and she came in third in leading our team to victory. As I picked up the team's medals later, the race director asked me if I wanted a gold medal for Bex because she took first in her age group, or a bronze medal because she was third in the race. Which would you choose?

I chose the bronze race medal over the gold age-group medal for Bex. I hope she agreed with my choice. For the first time in my life I am in a similar conundrum.

You remember that yesterday I described Sunday's 3-Mile Survivor Harbor Race around Baltimore's Inner Harbor? I finished the three miles in 23:17 (7:45) amidst a steady stream of dozens of runners. Finishing amongst the runners from the much larger 7-mile race, I couldn't tell which runners were from what race.

It turns out that I finished in third place in the 3-miler, seventh overall, the first Master. I beat the next Master by over a minute, and the next person over 50 by more than five minutes. So gold medal for the Master's win, or bronze medal for finishing third in the race?

If they send me an award, I hope it's a bronze and not a gold.

People seemed to enjoy the finish-line photo of the 2006 7-Mile Survivor Harbor race I posted yesterday. Here's another view of that finish. (Right: Ryun/Keino? No, just two mid-age mid-packers feeling the momentary return of old glories.)

I'll check back in with y'all when I get back from Tahoe.

More hot hot hot

It only got up to 94 degrees yesterday, but the dew point reading made it feel like way over one hundred. At 8:30 am I was on the lovely Baltimore Inner Harbor walkway, watching some sweat-soaked race leaders in the Survivor Harbor 7 Seven Mile Race go by. The two front-runners were neck and neck; both had their faces contorted with the strain even at mid-race.

I love this scenic race through historic Baltimore, but it is always hot. It runs from the harbor waterfront out to Fort McHenry, around that park along the water, back down to the harbor, past all the ships in the Inner Harbor along the brick-lined Promenade, and out to the Can Company, an abandoned manufacturing center that was converted into a vibrant hub of commercial and residential units.

I just had to do its inaugural running in 2004 because I had never done a 7-mile race before. You know, part of life's checklist, seven-mile race, got it. All of my 10K times except for the first one had been run at a sub-8 minute per mile pace, so I figured I'd easily extend that pace to a 7-miler. Not so fast.

The first year I ran 58:29 (8:21). It was hot. The second year it was even hotter and I was even slower, 58:34 (8:22). The third year the weather finally cooperated a little and I ran 54:17 (7:45). Mission Accomplished.

The race has a 3-Mile Race component, which joins the main race in progress at the Inner Harbor after the race leaders have gone by. I signed up for that this year. (Left: Running along the Inner Harbor in the 2006 race.)

Once again it was so hot that I wilted. I went out fast but didn't arrive at the first mile marker until 7:25. Then my time for the second mile slipped to a 7:45. My third mile time deteriorated to an 8:05 for a 23:15 (7:45) finish, a PW. Notice the steady 20-second per mile downward progression in my pace. My five other 3-milers had all been run in under 23 minutes.

After the race I was wringing wet. I went into a nearby Starbucks for coffee and the frosty air-conditioned interior hit me like a frigid arctic blast. I'm sure they appreciated me leaking water droplets all over their counter as I handed them damp bills from my pocket.

This wonderful race, requiring a 100 mile round-trip drive, has become an expensive luxury in our new times, unfortunately. I think that with gas going from 97c to $4.03 on W's watch, a new dawn has arrived in my racing life. No longer can outlying races be done casually. Good going, Decider and Just-Get-Over-It Tony. (Can you tell that I don't think January 20, 2009 can get here fast enough, otherwise known as BLD, Bush's Last Day?) (Right: Although the guy in blue blew me away at the finish in 2006, he still dragged me along to my seven-mile PR.)

Hot hot hot

I ran my eighth consecutive DC Race For The Cure yesterday, in 27:54 (8:59). That time includes the two minutes it took me to get across the starting line in this gun-timed "race." I couldn't get to doing more than a lot of sideways running before the last mile because of the crush of people on the course. Actually, Race for the Cures are big social events (I've done twenty scattered about the country from NYC to Denver), a chance to get outside and move around some. They're fun.

The day tied a heat record at 98 degrees and the heat was unbearable even at 8 am. An hour earlier I had been at Iwo Jima across the river in Virginia where my club starts its SLRs, to cheer on the participants in my club's Marathon Training Program. There were about ten coaches and about 30 trainees there for their first training run that will, hopefully, lead them all across the finish line of the MCM in the fall. I don't have much to do with this program as it is run on a different model (a "mentoring" approach) than the programs I direct (which have been described by some club members as "chaperoned running groups"). The MTP is ably directed by Ben and Kristin. They put together a great-looking training sheet for it, covering all the weeks. The first run was ten miles. Off they all went in the early morning heat. Welcome to marathon training.

Then I jogged over to the start of the DCRFTC 5K about two miles away. Five minutes into the run I was sopping wet. Five minutes into the actual race I was thinking, Where is the finish line? It's never a good race for me when that thought strikes me so early.

That's what I did yesterday. That jaunt in a sauna just wore me out. It's supposed to approach one hundred degrees today.

Tag.

I was tagged by my good friend NBTR. Here goes:

1. How would you describe your running 10 years ago?

Ten years ago I ran my first race since high school (I was a JV harrier for two years). On a whim, my oldest son Jimmy, 12 at the time, and I ran in the 1998 Memorial Day Falls Church 3K Fun Run even though neither of us were runners. However, I had coached Jimmy's team in soccer (I hold a Series-D soccer coaching license) and conducted soccer workouts and basketball shootarounds with him. We finished in 18:48 (10:05) and were so proud of ourselves!

2. What is your best and worst run/race experience?

My best running experience is always my last run. Yesterday morning I did my last long run in preparation for the next Saturday's hilly Lake Tahoe Relay which I am going to run in as part of Bex's team. I did 11 miles in 1:36:25 (8:46), running six easy miles on the flat W&OD Trail in 49:16 (8:13), and five miles of hills in 47:09 (9:26) wherein I ran up every hill within a mile of my house.

My worst race experience was the December 2003 Tidal Basin 3K. Because it was the last race of the year, I started "reviewing" as I ran and began thinking about the endless litigation I was enmeshed in--her divorce filing in 2001 after she took our minor children out of state for "Spring Break," my lack of any visits in almost a year despite having full joint custody with standard visitation, the staggering legal bills with no end in sight--and for once, running wasn't a solace. Totally overwhelmed, I stopped to walk for awhile, practically crying.

3. Why do you run?

I feel like it. Almost always.

4. What is the best or worst piece of advice you've been given about running?

The best advice I was ever given was, Run early. That way, reasons not to run don't constantly crop up as the day progresses.

The worst advice is that advice which I give freely and for free. Remember what it cost. However, the following two pieces of advice reside on the Facebook profiles of two of my former running students, under their "favorite quotes" section and each is attributed to me by name: In order to run fast, you gotta run fast; and, If running were easy, it'd be easy.

5. Tell us something surprising about yourself that not many people would know.

During the 1972 presidential campaign, I ran a branch office of Staten Islanders for George McGovern. Tricky Dick Nixon's subsequent crushing victory in the election taught me everything I needed to know about the American populace. Therefore I wasn't surprised in 2000 or, especially, 2004.

There ya have it. I tag the next five readers who feel like doing the exercise.

You've got mail.

The t-shirt I won for donating blood arrived (see my next to last post). It's a beauty, too.

Standard white all cotton, size large so it's slightly too large, with the airline logo on the front in whose terminal I donated, and their motto printed across the back, "Safe. Clean. On Time. [Airline name.]" Hmm, this catchy saying isn't trademarked.

Well worth the wait and the worry.

But here's what I truly think. I'm glad this airline, or it's employees, are so well-intentioned and community-minded that they organized a blood drive. Kudos to them.

In other news, I recently received something in the mail from the Chicago Marathon. It was a certificate grandly certifying that on October 6, 2007, I "officially completed The 2007 LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon." [Notice the capital T.] In 4:34:06 at a pace of 10:28 M/M. Ouch. It would have been even worse if my former running buddy A hadn't found me walking the course at MP 24 and brought me in at a trot. (Left: The dog days of summer, or fall, in downtown Chicago.)

They're trying to make nice now, after blaming the runners for a debacle of their own making? What a fraud. That was The Chicago Fun Run. They said so at the time, when they sent uniformed police officers wading onto the course to force runners to walk upon the threat of felony arrest. Now it's back to having been a marathon again? (Right: A kept me barely ahead of the No-More-Running Police in Chicago.)

It's over, for now.

Mission Accomplished. Major running is over. For now.

Nine runners, myself included, ran the Capitol Hill Classic 10K on May 18th in a winnowing down process that started with thirty-one running wannabees showing up early one raw Saturday morning in February atop the parking garage at the West Falls Church Metro Station three months earlier for the start of the DCRRC 10K Group Training Program. Although we all took the elevator down to the ground level to begin our two mile run that day, some of us ran up the structure's six ramps upon our return.

We originally had seven volunteer coaches, but one acquired a stress fracture beforehand, another tore her ACL in a skiing accident and one developed IT Band problems. So we imported a volunteer coach from the Reebok SunTrust National Half-Marathon Training Program I was associated with after that Program ended in March, along with three runners who wanted to keep up their training.

Our running venues included the W&OD, Mount Vernon, Custis and Capital Crescent Trails, the C&O Canal Towpath, the National Mall and the race course itself. The last few weeks it seemed like the coaches would be fighting over who would accompany the few runners who showed up but order always prevailed. Quiet, unassuming Mary Alice, who is about my age, always showed up and she threw down a sub-hour performance on the hilly race course and kicked the rest of the students' a**es, finishing second in her age group.

Our times ranged from 47 to 75 minutes. Three were under an hour and six met the qualifying standards for the SunTrust National Marathon and Half-Marathon next year. This third-year marathon is an interesting race, it has the second best average finishing time (behind Boston) of any major American marathon, undoubtedly because of its qualifying standards.

Additionally, two more Program participants who didn't run the CHC broke two hours at the SunTrust National Half-Marathon. Congratulations to the performers, and thanks to the volunteer coaches Kristin, John, Renee, Linda, Bob, Sasha, Alexandra and David.

Pretty good. As for me, the Memorial Day weekend was the first Saturday I had off since early December when the overlapping Half-Marathon Program started. It was a long six months but the results of the two programs showed that it was well worth the effort. Next up: The fun of running the Lake Tahoe Relay in less than two weeks on a team put together by my former running buddy Bex, an MIA blogger, and then the start of the club's 10-Mile Group Training Program on July 12th. (Above: Relaxing after the Falls Church Memorial Day 3K Fun Run during my first free weekend in half a year.)

A Bloody Worry

It was a worrisome call. My voice-mail message at work disclosed that it was Patti at the Cincinnati airport and it was about the blood donation I made there in early May. Could I call her please?

What would you think? Returning home from the Flying Pig Marathon, I had a couple of hours to kill at the airport so I followed some signs to a local blood donation center. They raised their eyebrows at my blood pressure ("Is it always this high?") but took my blood anyway. I left a pint lighter, my 75th lifetime donation (I'm a runner. I write this stuff down). I really do it for the cookies and soda you get afterwards.

If you actually read all the stuff they tell you to beforehand, it would scare you. It's bad to have gone to Africa, England, Europe, or the Channel Islands, to have been in the American military since 1980, to have decorated your body, to have had sex, to have treated baldness, to have taken drugs, or to have cavorted with certain people. (Oh no, I don't think any of them ever did any of that. Shall I call them up and ask them?)

And if you have AIDS or something, they'll not only tell you but they'll report you too. You'll never get insurance in this country again! No good deed goes unpunished!

As I listened to Patti's message, I was hoping that it was the West Nile Virus they were going to tell me I had, and not something awful like Hep C or HIV. Not that I do ever do anything fun beyond running 26 miles to be at risk for those diseases. That's plenty of fun, right?

I finally got ahold of Patti after her days off. She knew exactly who I was the instant I said my name. "Oh, yessir, I have your file right here! Do you remember giving blood earlier this month at the airport in Cincinnati?"

I swallowed hard. "Yes," I whispered.

"You won a t-shirt. Where shall we send it?"