Kicking It Up A Notch…Plus a Trip to Governors Island

This summer has been, thus far, one of the coolest on record. According to The New York Times,

“The daily average last month was at or below normal every day but two. The temperature broke 80 on 16 days in New York — one more day than in Fairbanks, Alaska. Depending on Friday’s high, this was the second or third coolest June and July recorded in New York.”

Essentially summer in New York has looked like this: gray and rainy, cool and muggy.

That said, yesterday I endured a very fun long training run in Central Park with the New York Road Runners. The groups did 4 loops of the park adding up to 20 miles, and you could drop out after any of the loops depending upon your training needs. Now, thanks to an imprudent night out with friends on Friday, I showed up late. I managed to join the 10:30 pace training around 1.5 miles into the first loop, and that proved to be a very comfortable pace for me to maintain. I went with them for 16 miles, which for me was about 14.5 miles. I admit I felt like an impostor getting my ice packs strapped to my legs, but I just wasn’t up to doing the last 4-mile loop and I decided that running farther than I ever had before was a pretty decent accomplishment for the day. I took my Utz pretzels and my banana and, feeling perfectly serene as the bags of ice strapped to my thighs melted in rivulets down my legs, wandered in the direction of the subway.

At some point it occurred to me that I was, at that moment, one of those lunatics people are talking about when they shake their heads and say, “only in New York” with a huge sigh of disgust and/or annoyance. I had become the person to whom rational folks give wide berth when walking along the sidewalk. And I can see why: my shirt was thoroughly soaked, and I do mean that there was not a single millimeter of dry cloth on my body. My hair looked gray from being covered with salt from my dried sweat, and I had plastic bags of half-melted ice Saran-wrapped to my rather wobbly legs. And I was walking around eating pretzels like this was completely normal behavior. For runners, it is: for anyone else, call the guys with the straitjackets and the white van.

In short, I had become a Runner of the Living Dead. A shuffling post-long-run zombie, mindlessly gobbling every carb within reach.

In any event, I’m proud to say that I made it 14.5 miles. I am fearful of doing the remaining 11.7 miles in a few months, but I think I can get there from here. I’ll probably sign up for some longer runs just to make getting out there a bit easier. Mentally it’s pretty challenging to cover the same few miles over and over again, so I’ve been trying to get out of the Financial District and the eternal pleasures of Battery Park City a little more often. One place that has proven to be a wonderful haven is Governors Island. (The name is plural, not possessive.)

The New York Times’ Roving Runner recently did a brief article about the Island. It’s as good as he makes it out to be. The views of the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, and the big orange Staten Island Ferry boats are all amazing, and I am very grateful to Brian Fidelman (the article’s author) for identifying the bizarro recording that plays over loudspeakers at the far end of the island. The first time you hear it, it’s weird and kind of wonderful. By the fifteenth time you’re hearing it, you begin to understand why the comfy free hammocks within hearing distance of the loudspeakers are the last to fill up. Maybe the recording doesn’t need to be played constantly, you know? I’ve been out on numerous occasions, and sometimes it seems to be going constantly and others it seems to kick in every half hour or so. I find the latter arrangement much preferable.

The entire island is like a really interesting 2.2 mile track. You can also run in the interior, although that’s where a lot of the arts and culture events take place, so it’s more crowded. By crowded, I mean amply spacious by New York standards. This is where I’ve started doing hill work.

I only have two complaints about the island: the ferry schedule doesn’t run often or late enough to accommodate clockwatchers like me during the week, and there are no drinking fountains on the island.

This, to me, is a huge oversight in Brian’s otherwise excellent piece. I asked a guard about a non-functioning fountain near the ferry terminal, and he explained that there’s a problem with the water system on the island and that the water is thus non-potable. If you are looking for hydration during a long run, be advised that you’ll either have to pack it in or buy it from one of the vendors in bottle form. Or, you can always hit the new Water Taxi beach for a post-run beer. Just bring a change of clothes or something, lest people run in terror from the invasion of the Running Zombie.

Happy running!

Race Report: 5/30/09 Brooklyn Half Marathon

Yesterday I ran 13.1 miles through Brooklyn, which gave me a a small taste of what the full marathon is going to feel like. Although I can’t say I’d yet like to go back for seconds, it really was a good run.

Some stats:

Weather conditions: Mid-to-high seventies, mostly sunny, low humidity.

Course: Hilly for the first 7 miles through Prospect Park, then a long flat run along Ocean Parkway to Coney Island. [link to course map]

Time: 2:15:52

Average Pace: 10:22

Before I get back to my regularly scheduled snark, I’d like to start by saying that I’m really pleased with my pace. Last year, before I decided to run more seriously and sought physical therapy for my knee problems, I ran the same race (in the opposite direction) in 2:37:24. So I ran this year’s course a whopping 22:28 minutes faster than last year. My goal time this year was 2:10, but I’m happy anyway. It was nice to be solidly in the middle of the pack instead of bringing up the rear. That said, I would like to complete the marathon in 4:30, which would be slightly under a 10-minute mile. This means I need to get faster.

The day was warmer than I would have liked, but honestly this was partly my problem because I was woefully unprepared. I’ve carped previously about how I dislike running in warm weather: it gives me a headache and makes me want to barf, and I would go so far as to say that the scientists who claim that you can adapt to running in the heat are flat-out liars. It occurred to me as I looked around at other racers that maybe I just need better equipment so as not to exacerbate the discomfort inherent to running in the heat. For one thing, I was in capri-length CWX running tights. For another, I was wearing a sports bra that is at least two years old and black. I was wearing one thing that might make it onto the Approved Warm-Weather Running Gear List, but only in the event that no other acceptable substitute is available: a white t-shirt. In short, I was one unfashionable and uncomfortable runner on Saturday.

And if you don’t think there is running fashion, you have clearly never been on the wrong end of it. The fashion is naked. Apparently, even in January, the most appropriate thing to wear while running is as close to nothing as possible. When it’s hot out, I get this. My bosoms do not. They love the support that comes from Spandex. My behind is not a thing of glory. It does not want to be lovingly encased in Spandex, although for that matter it was during the race, to the point of looking like a strained sausage.  I was the only moron not wearing tiny shorts, and the most anyone else covered-up was one of those absurd running skirts. I really think that if one is going to be engaging in athletic activities, one should expect the probability that people are going to be able to see up your skirt. Either wear shorts or just get one of those bikini-esque things that elite athletes run in and quit being coy about displaying camel-toe in public.

Last year I was in the bathroom after having waited 30 minutes for a stall when the starting gun went off. This year I was hoping that the new course arrangement would mean additional bathrooms. It did not. This year I was again hopping from foot to foot outside the Port-a-Potties when the gun went off. I really hope this doesn’t happen at the marathon proper, or I swear I’m going to not drink any liquids for a week before the race. If I’m wearing my no-longer-fashionable-but-too-expensive-to-discard CWX capris, everyone will probably mistake me as someone running the marathon dressed up as dried-up piece of beef jerky.

All in all, though, it was a good race. And my determination to get some good warm-weather running gear means I’ll be able to go shopping and start doing gear reviews! Wohoo!