This all ties in to running and the marathon last year, to Team for Kids, and an iPhone app that Jamie Oliver created with recipes and tips.

This is a screen cap from the app, 20 Minute Meals. It’s really a great little app, lots of pictures and videos, plus updates with new recipes come too. I got the app when I was training for the marathon and decided to forego takeout as much as possible, in addition to it being cheaper. It was so fun making all the recipes that I found myself dining in nearly all the time.

If you watch the video Jamie makes the case that we have not passed to our children the knowledge they need to cook, select foods, and make healthy choices. Even adults, and I count myself in there, do not know their way around a kitchen. David Letterman can joke about “Know Your Cuts of Meat” but in truth that is about all I do know! I could not tell you the difference between a shoulder and a rib roast, chuck, round, whatever, the nomenclature is greek to me. And I come from a family where we had very (too!) regular family meals around the kitchen table, cooked by my mom and by my dad. Fast food was limited to once a week, we’d call it fend for yourself, or ersatz, usually friday.

That’s a cookbook I wrote out as a kid. I liked grilled chees with pickals and a glass of milk. Still do.

The whole Team for Kids mantra is get children moving early and often, because we have an epidemic of obesity going on. Oliver makes the same point in the video above, and he says we are not doing enough in schools to teach kids about food, not doing enough to supply healthy meals in schools, which are often the bulk of the meals kids get, and we are not doing enough to pressure fast food and the  food-industrial-complex to get the crap out of our food that they put there to increase profit.

For you out of town readers, living in Brooklyn I have always observed that the poorer neighbourhoods got the worst food, the worst vegetables, the worst meats. The closest grocery to me has great staff, but un-appealing veggies. I see them trying. It might be me single-handedly buying more veggies than anyone else!? And with more and more people turning to food stamps in this recession, it is only going to get tougher- what WIC will purchase is often nothing I would touch. So it is no surprise that when real food is unappealing, and when you don’t know how to prepare it properly, a family will turn to crap because the kids will eat it.

This is nothing that is sustainable or desirable. Oliver points out that the biggest killers in society today are not violent crime, or ‘terrerism, but the diseases of obesity and bad diet. By a huge margin.

Jamie’s mantra is pass it on, which is what I am doing.

I spanked that little pansy Ed Norton (3:48:01) scrubbed Dr. Greene (Anthony Edwards, 4:08:45) and left Alanis to take the jagged little pill (4:28:45)…

After all that emotion of the last post you are probably wondering what the hell I have to complain about. A personal best (first marathon was 3:49:10) on one of the most difficult courses there is. Is it not enough to take 11 minutes off in 6 months?

If I take the “extra” time off the last six miles, assuming I could have at least maintained 8:00/mile, I add up 7:20- leaving 3:31:13. Still not sub 3:30:00. And probably more agonizing to have missed by a minute-thirteen. So how does this happen, how do the wheels fall off by almost eight minutes?

If you look at the 5K splits and their average minute per miles it breaks down like this:

5 Kilometers Time: 00:23:41.00 Pace/mile: 7:36

10 Kilometers Time: 00:47:32.00 Pace/mile: 7:39- for reference my PB on 10K is 47:45…

15 Kilometers Time: 01:11:39.00 Pace/mile: 7:41

20 Kilometers Time: 01:38:22.00 Pace/mile: 7:54

Half-Marathon Time: 01:43:50.00 Pace/mile: 7:55- for reference my PB on this is 1:40:33

25 Kilometers Time: 02:03:59.00 Pace/mile: 7:58.

30 Kilometers Time: 02:29:27.00 Pace/mile: 8:01

20 miles 8:47

21 miles 8:47

35 Kilometers Time: 02:57:06.00 Pace/mile: 8:08

22 miles 8:38

23 miles 8:56

24 miles 9:24

40 Kilometers Time: 03:26:06.00 Pace/mile: 8:17

25 miles 9:45

26 miles 9:03

Finish Time: 03:38:33.00 Pace/mile: 8:20

The 5K splits tell a gradual story, the mile splits tell the gory story, wheels coming off pretty quick in the last 10K. And look at those early splits, I have a new 10K record! Set during the Marathon! You are not supposed to do that! Clearly there was nothing left in the tank after 20 miles, and those early miles are responsible.

I think 3:30:00 was probably not a possibility. There was no margin for the course or the unexpected. And the unexpected in this case was the course, I did not expect to be so unfocused and running like a scared deer. Oh Bambi!

Looking at those final mile splits I know how bad I was feeling, but I see that I was moving, and that I had a little surge even in the final mile. It certainly did not feel that way. I can accept that this was the best that I could do on that day, and that it reflects the training I put in and the experience level that I (don’t) have. Sure, I could have run a more balanced race and felt better in those final miles, I doubt however that the time would have differed by more than four or five minutes. But everything they say about banking time early and giving it back double is true. I was ahead almost 4 minutes by the half and gave it all back and then some by the end.

In terms of training I really focused on speed this time, and next time I will focus a lot more on marathon pace runs or progression runs, some going past 20 miles or past 3 hours. The last 30 minutes of the race is really “the race” and I need to experience running more on heavily fatigued legs.

Next time? Guess I am not that upset.

Finally something to add about Team for Kids: They came through Big Time in this race: the volunteers and organizers are all amazing, the buses ran smoothly, they did their best to shepherd us through the start on Staten Island. And at the finish, they were there with people to help you to Cherry Hill, they bring your baggage and a beverage to you and give you a place to rest and collect yourself. At that point, they were like sweet sweet beer angels, minus the beer:) I do not want to think about having to negotiate the baggage line and mile long walk from the finish line. We were treated like Rock Stars and they really deserve a lot of thanks for that. If you have googled this to get info for next year, run don’t walk to sign up for TFK, they really have your back.

Sorry that may be a little creepy to associate a marathon trophy with a rifle but this race was all heart and no head.

Early on it was shock and awe though.

We are at the head of 10,000, squeezed between double decker busses topped with young children. In the distance ahead, through the trees is visible a bridge leading up with the first wave departing. You see it on TV but it is different when you are next. They are small and colourful and rustling uphill like the back of the leaves in a storm wind. I point this out and the woman standing next to me is thrilled, she leans over and touches my arm, we feel connected in the two minutes we have been standing in the corral. We wish each other well, she is a triathlete but running is not her best sport. She expects to finish in a little over four hours. The canon goes off, the race starts, and we are instantly dissolved into the flow and she is gone.

You don’t notice the uphill when it comes, although others are already breathing heavily. Some jump up on the divider to take pictures of the runners and Manhattan in the distance. Coming off the bridge there are about three families waiting right there, a small cheering section. You could be at any suburban off-ramp, a car could be pulled over to change a flat, and it would be the same folks, waiting by the side of the road.

“Go NYPD!” The guy is not actually NYPD, but his friend his, so he joined the escort and got a t-shirt, which is why he is getting the shout-outs. From the looks of him however he is not a first-responder. He is actually a podiatrist from Florida. Greying, 45-49, if he was NYPD he would have been retired by now, unless he was a captain or a detective. He doesn’t have the build of a police officer, but this goes unnoticed. He is trying to qualify for Boston, needs a 3:30 to get there, which is why I know his age range. We run together for five or six miles. At about mile five he spots his girlfriend off the side and runs to her, he says, “I am running with Robert!” I slow down a little, we are very ahead on time and am starting to get worried that I am not hitting my goal pace.

For some reason I really don’t know what to do, I cannot stop checking the sides of the road to see if I know anyone. I want to focus and just run but the spectacle is too engaging, too distracting. When we go past Sixteenth Street I tell NYPD, this is my street, and he shouts to the crowd- “he lives here! he lives here! this is Robert’s neighbourhood!”  It is funny and warm. Even though we are going too fast I continue on, I think there may be some folks at Union Street I know, I can peel off there. I say to NYPD, “if I clock another 7:45 I am going to have to dial this back-”. Union Street comes and goes and I cannot find anyone, NYPD goes ahead, I let it be.  He is no longer running with Robert. I didn’t get his bib number so I don’t know if he bq’d or not. Three minutes ahead of schedule and growing, still not hitting the splits. I am running like it is a half marathon.

I have run seven hundred miles in training, and never gotten a blister. For some cosmic reason, I am getting a blister. It is on the top of the second toe on the left side, the one with the black toenail from the first marathon, since healed perfectly. This little piggy. But the sock, the one I hand picked out of a dozen as being the newest and softest is rubbing a bare patch. Either I stop and deal with it or figure it will eventually go numb. I retie my shoelaces twice in mile eleven, but it is not working. I hit the med tent at mile twelve and ask for some vaseline. There are no emergencies here or traumas, just people like me with blisters. Time is passing but I am so much ahead I think it will not matter. There is no blister, just an abrasion. It makes no sense. The aid worker takes my bib number and ailment. Statistics? Accountability.

Finally the volume of the course ebbs a little through the middle miles leading up to the Queensboro Bridge. I do an internal check and figure I am at about 80% considering. I am running marathon pace finally and figure the uphill on the bridge and the downhill will all even out. I find some friends at mile 14, still optimistic, still unaware. I have no idea what I said but I know I was here, there is a picture-I am beatifically happy. All this leads up to the Queensboro Bridge.

A first sign of trouble, I see some course marshals coming my way, picking their way through the stream, someone behind me is stopped, bent over, another person holding them up. I know I am not 80% anymore. The mile uphill and crosswind has shown me that my achilles is not happy any more, it is sore, beginning to complain, to stiffen, and compensating is my left quadriceps, slowly getting more beat with each landing. The next mile is all downhill, will make hamburger out of my thigh, another sharp turn at the bottom, gingerly on the achilles, they put hay bales on all the sharp turns as if a runner could be going so fast as to miss the turn and need something soft to crash into.  The beginning of the mob noise coming up from the street below. This is Manhattan and the last ten miles.

First Avenue seems as wide as it is long when there are no parked cars on either side.  I may have checked my mile splits here but it was beginning not to matter, I was drawing inward, conserving, doubting, getting scared. I knew exactly how far it was to go, the ten miles was not something impossible, a routine rest day run. I tried to tell myself, it was work to be done, no more no less.

We run past a large grey facade, Sloan Kettering Memorial Hospital. I look right and they have wheeled out two children, still in hospital beds. They are very young, a full battery of I.V’s and monitors is behind them, they are pale and I imagine bald from Chemotherapy, wrapped under blankets to keep them warm. They are here to see the marathon. All this stuff about how running a marathon changes you, when it is only the fact that you are living that matters. If change was what comes from running 26.2 miles then these kids would not be in beds. How does one regard another’s suffering? Who was here for whom?

The Poland Spring Hydration Zone at mile 17 distributes green sponges-on a hot day a cool sponge might be a good idea. Under grey skies it looks like a plague of toads has recently fallen, thousands of dark green sponges lie flat on the street. You would not want to step on a toad and turn an ankle.  In the fluid stations the spilled gatorade forms a slick glue that adheres to your shoe for several dozen yards after, and each step skitches as you peel your foot from the road.

Towards the Bronx the noise abates and the crowd diminishes, getting up and down the bridges is about all I have left now. I ask someone what the real time is and they give me the time 11:45am, but they have forgotten to set their clocks ahead-it is 12:45 and this means I have actually hit my goal time for twenty miles more or less. But I know there is no way I can maintain pace for the rest of the race. I am going landmark to landmark, block to block. Finally we are at 139th Street in the Bronx and I know that it is a countdown now to 90th Street and Engineers Gate where we enter the Park. I cannot or neglect to do the subtraction and arrive at 49 as the difference.

In Harlem a church choir and small band are playing something uplifting, another man and a piano dealing the STAX tracks. After all the volume of the race course so far, these sounds are incredibly soothing and mellowing and I pass through them and them through me to 125th Street and then Marcus Garvey Park. More children are out to greet us, youth from the TFK programs. I have nothing to pass back as I am saving it all for the hill up Fifth Avenue to come shortly.

Then I start the mantras. Engineers Gate. Engineers Gate. Engineers Gate. Whatever I can do to dissociate from my physical state. I have few memories of this section, there are spectators but I don’t see them, all the way up to 90th Street. Waiting for the mirage of Frank Lloyd Wright’s white beehive to appear.

Engineers Gate. More hay bales. Where do you get hay in New York? I try to feel like I have achieved something by getting here, that it is all as the saying goes, downhill from here. Except when it is uphill. Breaking the Park down into blocks does not work. It is just winding green turning turning on itself. For a long while I hear over and over “Crazy Daisy!” “Crazy Daisy!” Someone near me has written this on their jersey. I do not look around to see who it is. It takes me a while to associate this, crazy Daisy is the nickname of a little girl I know in Omaha, who not incidentally has endured more in her short time living on this earth than anyone might want to endure, a double transplant, nearly a year in NeoNatal intensive care. At least a dozen operations. How is it that I hear this, right now, here? It is all bizarrely about living, this marathon.

We roll downhill in mile 25 and this is about as much as my leg muscles can take, my left side is twanging like a banjo string, I have never felt this before, and then a partial cramp, and then a real cramp, my left side freezes up in that spasm where you don’t know if you should straighten it or bend it or what- I haul off to the left side of the road, I have no idea what I looked like. A lady with a British accent leans over the cyclone fencing and says, “well you cahn’t stop naw cahn you then? Gota t’keep gowin’…” and she is perversely right, I am startled by her clarity. Just what are you going to do now? So I put weight on it not knowing what is functional and what is not and manage to generate a stride and then another.

The last mile and two-tenths was complete focus on putting one foot in front of another. People around me who are having a different day are pumping their arms and high-fiving the crowd along Central Park South. I really don’t like them and imagine they are all from France or Spain or Portugal and probably enjoy shopping in New York but think America is full of stupid fat people. I stay dead center and aim for the statue of Columbus. He had the right idea. It is a washing machine of emotions, I feel I have so badly bungled the race, so obviously ignored the simple facts of going slow early, I cannot believe this is how I am going to get across the finish line. All heart and no head. This is not my way. I lead everything with my head, the heart has no place in rational matters. And if it is to be heart, it is all triumphant rock guitars and explosions and drum solos. It is not- this-? My first New York City Marathon, that I have watched for thirteen years from the sidelines, have said to myself as we all do, “I’d like to do that one day…” and now I am a mile from finishing, have not a jot of energy left to jubilate, ululate, do the robot, a funky break, muster any sense of triumph-it is just going to get done-

Making the turn to Columbus Circle we bottleneck into the Park, someone is shouting my name over and over and over and I realize who it is-another picture tk- yes I look happy, it breaks me out of this tunnel, and now the last 800 meters. I remember from mile repeats the time 3 minutes 30 seconds, I have at least that and more to go. Remember to raise your arms and look up for Brightroom to take your picture, the clock is there, 3 hours 51 minutes, less the offset which was around 16 minutes means I am still under 3:40 at least, I hope it is not that close because I am not capable of sprinting to close a few seconds gap if it is. Across the mats and it is done. Someone reaches out from behind me and congratulates me-the man at the running shoe store-was I faster than him? I think I squeezed his hand very hard, there was just so much I could not express at that moment. Someone asks me if I need an escort, no, I am fine, really, barely holding it in, you pass the medals, I pick a very young hispanic lad because no one seems to be picking him, he places the medal over my head, I bend down low, I thank him, I hope I thanked him. I pose for a photograph, you could tell I think that I had been weeping, but I stand there, just stand, this is it. I have no idea what that looks like, defiance, sadness, passing through sadness. Next they give you the silver heat sheet and a sticker to keep it on in case you can’t. I pull it up over the bridge of my nose to hide and let the rest out.

If all this sounds like a lot of emotional handwringing it is because it is, because you don’t always know what to make of things when you make them. But this is what it was as I did it. So much different from the first, I think they are all probably very different, all like different lives even, no two the same, all flawed, all unique, all unexpected. I will tie it up in a brighter bow next post.

another way to get to the finish line…

the famous uphill finish...

I wanted to share with you the website for the athlete tracking- you will get 5K splits for me along the way; go here and you have to enter your email and a password, don’t worry, the email is deleted after the race. Submit that and then the next page allows you to add runners, either by name or bib number. Mine is 22909. Sometime after 10 am you will begin to get 5k splits which should be in the neighbourhood of 25 minutes per. For the metrically challenged 5K is 3.1 miles. You will also get the final time. Here are some landmarks:

5K; 83rd and Fourth Ave. Brooklyn–10k; 17th Street and Fourth Ave (hey I’m home!)–15k; turn from Lafayette onto Bedford Ave Brooklyn–20K; Greenpoint Ave–25k; middle of Queensboro Bridge (just the sound of a lot of breathing and groaning I am told…)–30k; 102nd and First Ave Manhattan–35k; 128th Street and Fifth Ave–40k; lower Central Park and almost done!

that’s me in the lime green tfk shirt down front-PPTC.org is the group!

I have learned a lot in this training go round, and depending on the outcome Sunday I will have some wisdom to share.

Attire: I will be sporting jaunty black shorts and shirt, with a frighteningly lime green TFK singlet over top. And a hat. There will be many like me. I will write my name on my jersey as do most people to encourage a little name-calling, and to assist EMS should I become un-responsive. Not really.

Choose your borough or neighborhood:

Staten Island: This is the staging area for the start. All you need to know is that you can’t get here from there. If you’re curious about the start, it’s better to watch it on television. NBC4 has coverage starting at 9am. NBC is also airing a package nationally at 2 pm to 4 pm with highlights. Don’t expect to see me, it’s like March of the Penguins meets Dawn of the Dead, with less exploding brain. I am Wave 2, meaning I start at 10:00 am, but expect to cross the official start line a few minutes after. Start: 10:04 am.

Brooklyn: Ten miles of the race go through this borough.

Park Slope: Fourth Ave at Prospect is 6+ miles in. (10:52 am) At Fourth Avenue and 7th Street, (11:00 am) Time Warner Cable will have video screens and access to the Race Day Tracker; enter your runner’s official bib number and get an idea of where he or she is. At Fourth Avenue and Douglas Street, BP will set up an Invigorate (?) Station with giveaways and photo opportunities. The Brooklyn Academy of Music at Fourth Avenue and Lafayette Avenue (11:08 am) is a popular place to view the marathon — there’s an ING Cheering Zone here. Beware Bishop Laughlin High School will be playing the Theme from Rocky over and over here…I’ll probably be in a very sunny mood, expect jubilation, high fives, a bon mot or two-yo-Adrian!

Lafayette Avenue (miles 8-9: near 11:16am) is lined with trees and traditional brownstones; lots of marathon-day stoop parties go on here. This is also the end of my first “10″ of the race, the taking it easy part of the game plan. The next 10 miles I get on the game plan and focus on being consistent and plowing all the way through. Consider McCarren Park (mile 12, 11:40 am) as a viewing spot: It’s tree-lined and attracts a lot of spectators and I hear has some good taco trucks.

Queens: On the Queens side of the Pulaski Bridge at about mile 13.2, (11:48:07 am- I should still be in a good mood here- game face, zen mastery!) Asics will set up a huge video screen that will flash photos of runners who have registered to have their image displayed (dunno about that). Also in Queens: A neighborhood cheering zone at 44th Drive near Court Square and an ING Cheering Zone on 44th Drive between 11th and 21st where you can get bright orange cheer sticks (between miles 14-15, 11:56-12:04 pm-start clapping you silly dolphins!!).

Manhattan, East Side, First Avenue: First Avenue might be the craziest, most crowded place to watch the race — the sidewalks can be packed more than eight people deep. (Hint; its the bars and an excuse to drink at noon…) The runners are 16 miles into their race at this point and appreciate the roar of the crowd as they come off the Queensboro Bridge. (estimate 12:12am -this is probably going to be where you will catch RW being emotional-sorry about that) At First Avenue and 59th Street, Food Emporium and Emerald Nuts will be giving away food samples. Next, Time Warner Cable Online Cheer Zone at 83rd. (miles 17-18 estimate 12:20-112:28 pm-probably going to be doing some early negotiation here, might be a good place for a fan intervention moment!) Farther up First Avenue, at 96th Street, you can visit the Mobile Makeover Zone sponsored by T-Mobile. Catherine Zeta Jones will be giving it away here to all the older men…like any other day…Watch the elite runners make a move here; some great runners have pulled away — or been dropped — on First Avenue. I will not be making a move here-except on CZ-J!

The East Side is one of the best places to see runners twice: You can see them run up First Avenue, then walk west and see the runners on Central Park South or, if you’re farther north, on Fifth Avenue above 90th Street.

Bronx: At Mile 20 of the marathon, (estimate 12:45 pm-if I hit this mark or very close to expect to see a very happy runner, it will mean I am having a record day) runners often struggle to find energy and the residents here are famous for supporting participants with signs and cheers. If anyone guts it out to the Bronx to see me I don’t know what I’ll do, I might not even recognize you! Probably thinking why in the hell would anyone want to do this again…

Harlem: On race day, the sidewalks on Fifth Avenue between 135th Street and 110th Street are filled with people coming from church, going to brunch, and cheering for runners. Some gospel bands play live on the course (look at 135th, 125, and 117 streets). Marcus Garvey Park, between 120th and 124th Streets, is a leafy respite with bleachers set up for spectators (mile 22-some serious negotiation going on her, probably some food fantasies going on…beer? chocolate? estimate 1:00 pm if all goes well).

Manhattan, East Side, Fifth Avenue: Here I am fully in the “last 10″ or 10km in this case. If the plan goes according to, this is the actual race section. The runners stay on Fifth Avenue and run along Central Park until 90th Street, where they turn in (mile 24- 1:16 pm-if there is anything left in the tank, it comes out here, at Engineers Gate. That or all the green Gatorade Endurance Formula comes out in a spectacular ballistic vomit that induces all the spectators to vomit a la “Stand by Me”).

Central Park: Central Park is an ideal place to watch the race; just be aware that moving around the park can be difficult on race day. Good spots include: Park Drive between 90th and 86th Streets; Park Drive below 72nd is often more crowded. You can cross the park on either the 85th Street or 65th Street transverse roads. You cannot cross Park Drive, but you can go under it: Try the arches at 80th Street, 73rd Street, 67th Street, and 62nd Street.

Central Park South: This part of the course can be crowded; spectators might find it easier to access the south side of the street than the north side. Look for Continental Airline’s entertainment center at Columbus Circle, where the course turns into the park for the final time. Street teams will also be handing out Emerald Nuts on Central Park South. At this point I don’t expect to “see” anyone. 1:28 pm…I will have tunnel vision, snot running from my nose, dried spittle on my chin, I might look like the Hamburgler on crack…

Finish line: There are bleachers for the last few hundred meters of the race but you need tickets. I have a meeting spot setup that I need to get details on from TFK, I believe it is the YMCA where it will be fun to stay, and NOT be running…info to come.

You can’t see it but there is water permanently inside the plastic bubbles.  Beat…

Getting nervous, 12 days to go. Freaking out over all sorts of things, possible flu forecast, weather forecast, long sleeve, short sleeve, hat, touque??? I have a sore achilles on the right side, which I am ascribing to how mushy the shoes have become, they feel like flip-flops. Hence the new kicks.

Soon I will have a marathon route preview, my game plan, times, vantage points, media coverage. And a big thank you to all TFK contributors. You can still contribute, they ain’t gonna turn away your dime, and I get some of my greenbacks back if you do. So think of me as the charity from now on…

I chose to “represent” in full battle dress today. Did 5 from the apartment over the Brooklyn Bridge at sunrise to the Ferry Terminal. The scene was the same from last year, several hundred of us filing on to the ferry for the trip across. But the scenario is completely different, this was to be the last long run before tapering, and I was on a 40+ mile week pair of legs. Would they hold? Could I maintain marathon pace for 13.1 or better?

The race directions were simple and delivered by a man whose accent betrayed he was on home turf: follow da guy in front-a-ya. On ya mawks…and the horn. The first mile of this race is along the access road which then twists back on itself and climbs onto the bluff at Richmond Terrace. So what was my goal here? Marathon pace is 7:51 but everyone was clipping along at 7:30 or better (the corral I was in was this pace) so I hung back a bit for the first mile for a total of 8:05. But then mile 2 is all downhill which resulted in a 7:30. I tried to pull it back in in mile three at 7:46 but at this point I had the feeling that this was not going to be a marathon pace day but a pr day for the half, so I settled in with some white rabbits and began clocking off 7:30’s, basically for the rest of run.

It was ideal weather, if a little sunny, but we started out at 45 degrees and rapidly it climbed into the mid 50’s. If this was to be the weather for NYCM then I’d take it. Clear blue sky as we ran under the Verrazano and I looked up, way up to the span where I will be in three weeks. Hard to imagine.

What a difference a year makes. I remember last year just how long this run was, but not this year. The miles kept ticking off and I practiced choosing rabbits, getting in packs to draft, relaxing, running the tangents on corners. I think last year I consumed a couple of gels or more just getting around, but in training I have been foregoing that to learn how to run without it. The gatorade proto-slime was good enough. We get to mile 11 and it the beginning of the hills we came down going out, but my pace only suffers a few seconds, 7:39, and none in mile 12, 7:32, however my heart rate is topping 170, evidence I am working hard. But it feels completely different, I know I can do this or better from the speedwork, so I push through to the end, finishing with a little sprint alongside my last mile rabbit who comes out of my rearview mirror in the last 100, so we duel it out to the end, and I get a shout out by name from the announcer who acknowledges the TFK team alliance!

The time? 1:40:33, a pr by 3:30 over my last in the Brooklyn half which was 1:43:58. And last year’s SI half-1:54:51, almost 15 minutes better than that! What a difference a year makes, and this was on tired legs too.

What it means I find hard to believe, they say take you half time and double it and then add 8 for your marathon time, which means I could clock 3:29 if all goes well…the McMillan running calculator says 3:32:04, which means that it is tight, there is not a lot to spare.

What remains then is to enjoy this two week taper-next weekend I will be doing a “last 10 miles” from the Queensboro Bridge up First Ave. into the Bronx and down Fifth Ave. to the finish in Central Park sponsored by the Prospect Park Track Club. I am looking forward to this to get eyes on the course and that infamous hill on Fifth Ave. at mile 23. No one seems to like it. I took a look at it yesterday and it does seem to go on forever, not too steep though.

And also time to fret and work out race strategies and try not to bore everyone too terribly with this stuff…I know all you hear is blah blah blah when I show up.

Holding steady at 1600 of 2500 for TFK-come on people-represent!

BTW, the winner, Jorge Real, in a time of 1:07:47, is listed as age 39! Also the beauty of statistics, I was 91st in my age group 40-44- TOP 100 BABY!

starting to see these everywhere-it’s getting me nervous…

So trying to put it all back together again after being out of town I did get my 10 in on friday, and that left sunday, where I had forgotten I had signed up for and paid for the NYRR long training run. 18miles, not the 20 that was on the schedule, but coming off the potential injury I thought, if I can make it, all will be well.

Well that was before the weather decided we needed 2 inches of rain on sunday.

When you do these long runs the objective is to maintain an even pace, to keep your heart rate where you want it, and to try out different clothing and feeding options to see what works. They are dry runs for marathon day. Did I say dry? The other possibility is that you get up race day and Noah is waving at you from the Ark saying, “I warned you….”

Worst Case Scenario. I suppose toads raining down is one possible WCS but unlikely, rain or wind or heat or cold is more likely, assuming you aren’t dealing with injury, GI issues or flu. So the rain Sunday morning was WCS #1, steady rain and wind. I decided to leave as late as possible to avoid standing around at the start, and also I decided not to drop a bag since it was going to get soaked anyway. Just show up and run. I left the ipod at home, left the gels at home, so lets just see if I can deal with Gatorade Endurance formula for 18 miles and nothing else. Not that I really like that stuff, salt and HFCS blended with a hint of artificial lime. It looks like radioactive toxic slurry and probably is. But it is what is on the course officially. You can carry your own, but I would really rather not on race day. The fuel belts, the gizmos, I would like to leave most of that behind except for the garmin. I didn’t even wear the HR monitor although I probably should have just to see where I was.

Prospect Ave. had only one other crazy person at 6am when I boarded. One other person at DeKalb. Union Square is where most of the zombies got on, and more up the East Side to 103rd Street where it was a frontloading half mile to the start. I didn’t even bother to get in my right corral, I just lined up at the end and we were off.

So it is wet. A steady soaking rain. You don’t really know what to wear, it was borderline warm enough I think to lose the jacket but it worked for the NJ marathon so I wore it, plus a zensah short sleeve shirt. It is sort of like wool in that it stays warm when wet, but it also stretches, so eventually it was hanging down like a skirt. Not a great result. I think what you want is a single layer that has some warmth when wet and also some wind stopping ability. I have not found it yet.

Periodically, you let your arms fall to get rid of tension in your shoulders. As you do, water rills down off your fingertips like a garden sculpture. You feel water being squeezed up between your toes forcefully as you run along. This for two hours and thirty nine minutes, or three loops of the park. But somehow you get it done, and this being the third “twenty” miler in the schedule it is not so bad. My splits were not fast, but I was never working that hard, even to the end. I think with the rest before hand it sort of approximates what it will be like running after the taper and with others around to support you.

There is one twenty left on the schedule next week, and the Staten Island Half after that. I also want to do a “last ten miles” which is up First Ave and down Fifth Ave into the Park to see what the hills are really like.

We are at $1490/2500 for TFK with one month to go. All you fence sitters time to donate.

Dancers

The part I haven’t told you is that Steve really can’t see that well. He is legally blind. A birth defect left him with impaired vision, but as a child he used to stare at the sun wide eyed because the colour effects that he was seeing were irresistible. The resulting scars on his retina made things worse. But that didn’t stop Steve from eventually becoming a movie projectionist in New York in the Eighties. Did I mention that when you meet Steve, he will tell you a story. And then another. Possibly a third. All fascinating. You see, you want a paranoid projectionist! Focus! Steve brought binoculars into the booth to see better. So he was constantly on the lookout for blurry images. It makes sense if you let it.

Montauk #3

Digital cameras for Steve are like bionic eyes. He can see things very close up. Like a computer monitor from about 3 inches. And also an LCD on the back of a camera. Viewfinders are useless to him, ah, but on a preview you can magnify your picture…10x or more. All of a sudden, distant details are visible. Steve literally takes pictures to see what things look like. Which is by definition, is what a photographer does. And very Winograndian.

The Corner

We are up to 30% of my TFK pledge. More contributors to come.

Above: Stack o’ promos to go out. Don’t accuse me of being cynical about this photo business…

TFK UPDATE:

Thanks to some recent donations from the  Mr and Mrs. Jackanory, Mr. and Mrs. Bumble, and Mr. and Mrs. Wright, we are sitting over $600 of $2500, that is more than 25% of the way there!

The heat has put a serious dent in my training schedule, last night was a track workout of 3×1 mile at 7:08/mile, with .5 mile rest in between and for the first time I visited the Redhook park oval to do it. Tough sledding, I kept forgetting what lap I was on-and Mr. Garmin was making it difficult to keep track-a plain old watch would have been better. Didn’t matter, my heart rate was pegged up against the wall anyway…memories of high school practices with the gym teacher exhorting us through wind sprints. In fact there was what looked to be a track club or high school group doing 400m repeats, a group of about twenty teens, the expected mix of diffidence, lollygagging and avoidance. Some seriously fast folks too. They would all start out as a group and quickly the bell curve would appear, the lone runner way out in front, the middle of the pack, and a back of the pack bunny or two. I think everyone was feeling mr. pukey nearby. These last few days have been difficult to keep to the plan-targets have not been met! It is all going awry! Chaos! I am hoping that it is the heat that is responsible and not my choice of the pursuit of Ludicrous Speed in my training goals. Trying to make a 3:30 marathon may not be realistic for me…?

Slideluck potshow came and went and I received a lot of great feedback on the presentation-thank you all. I will keep working on the project when the light returns in late September. Here is the piece:

Image left of James Worrell circa 1985, Iowa proving that the kids are alright. I am certain of meeting James before circa New York Magazine 1990’s but that feels like a world away. Anyway in the spirit of childhood athleticism he responded to the TFK challenge and made a big contribution to my fundraising. 

Both of us had slideshows in last Thursday’s Slideluck Potshow, you can see his here. 

Week 5 begins today and features an 18 miler sunday.

With apologies to Sugimoto

with apologies to butterflies courting:)

Big post monday coming with shout outs to new TFK contributors. Going to try to deliver some real tasty treats from Ajax to get all the big whales ponying up for TFK. August 15 is the due date for the first half of the $2500 fundraising goal.

In other news, a big $100 donation for Team for Kids has come in and someone will be the lucky recipient of a whopping 16×16 or whatever they want of this:

Film baby yeah!

Only $2325 to go. Donate here remembering my name “Wright” and number 361112! Instructions here.

getting pretty close to perfect. Yesterday I had most of the factors working in my favour, a steady stream of jets overhead, some puffy clouds, the right vector, victor.

Still not there though. He’s not centered on the pin, the cloud is a little too big in the frame, it feels heavy on the left. But he is “on” the pin, there is no overlap, no space. At least in the pixel realm of 400% enlargement, you cannot tell.

And a reminder that for a small tax deductible donation to Team For Kids, you can have a print from me. $50 gets you whatever you want from me. Smaller donations are also welcome. 18 weeks to the New York City Marathon…

Various from Flyover States.

I am not opposed to providing prints from other work. Yeah the demand is that great…

UPDATE!:

Let the love flow! I wonderful generous First Donation from my friend Emmet Malmstrom…thank you!

Emmet Malmstrom