Reach the Beach 2011!!!

I'm writing this the Friday night before the Mohawk Hudson Marathon and I should be packing for it, but I'm so far behind in this blog, I felt like I just needed to post about Reach the Beach, which happened three weeks ago.  I still have another post about my August multisporting, but that one will have to wait until after the marathon post....

Anyways, so three weeks ago I did the Reach the Beach Relay again!!!  It was my third Ultra relay since May, and my third time doing the NH RTB Relay with team Front Runners NY Ultragays.  I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's almost gotten to the point where running 30ish miles over 24 hours is not that big of a deal.  Almost...

But it's still a TON of fun.  The most fun I've ever had doing any kind of running activity has been during these relay races.  Part of it is that I get to spend the weekend with some great friends.  There's the camaraderie and the friendly competition.  There's the support and encouragement that you get from your teammates.  There's also the gossip, the jokes, the wisecracks, and chatting.  And of course, the grogginess, sleeplessness, stinkyness and soooore-ness.  But through it all, I got to hang out with a wonderful group of people, and we all did some really great racing.

The Ultragays this year consisted of me, Mike Terry, Josh, Darin, Gabe and Peter.  I've done Ultra relays with all of them before (it was my 4th time with Josh and Mike!)  We had both a driver AND a den mother, so that was really nice.  Bryce took control of the van for the full 36 hours' worth of driving, and Ben was our cheerleader / Gatorade hander-outer / and Twitterer extraordinaire.

Gabe did some great work decorating the van!

 Polly's Pancake Parlor is always one of the highlights of the race!

My first leg was about 3.87 miles of uphill, but for some reason it didn't feel uphill at all.  I think I was just really pumped up on adrenaline that I felt like I was flying. I had my Garmin on so I knew I was going around 6:30-6:35 pace.  One of the other FRNY teams (there were SIX Front Runners teams--4 men's and 2 women's) was just a few minutes behind us and Mikey B was running my leg, so I think I felt a little pressure to not get passed by him.

By Leg 2, though, I started feeling the hills.  It was 5.19 miles, which I did around 6:40 pace.  I don't remember a whole lot about this leg.

Leg 3 was my hardest leg by far.  It was just past midnight when I started.  Josh was passing off to me, but I didn't see him coming until he was about 50 yards away.  I was still wearing my hoodie and sweatpants when he came up to give me the slap-band.  I was totally not ready for him.  And then, as soon as I left the transition area, I had to climb this enormous mountain.  I couldn't see anything and all I knew was that I had a steep, steep climb for over a mile.  That first mile came to about 8 minutes, with me running as fast as I possibly could.  It was so hard.

And then I had to come downhill, which was even scarier.  I was going so fast and it was so dark and so steep, I almost felt like I might not have been fully in control.  I couldn't see if there were any cracks or potholes in the road.  I remember thinking that if I stepped on a branch and got my legs entangled, I'd be in huge trouble.  I ran mile 3 in 6:10.  It was crazy.  And then I had another huge uphill followed by an steep downhill again.  It was just a brutal, brutal leg, and was my slowest.  About 6.5 miles at 7 minute pace.

Just to show how all over the place I was, here are my splits (in half-mile increments) for that leg.  Fastest 1/2 mile was 6:06 pace, and slowest was 8:09!  Ugh, it was so hard.

My last three legs were a little easier.  Leg 4 was 3.5 miles at a 6:37 pace.  By that time, I was probably a little delirious.  I really don't remember anything from that run.

With Leg 5, I was at the point where I was dreading having to go on my run.  My legs felt so sore, I could barely walk.  But at 5.6 miles, it was one of my longer legs.  So I had to pull it together.  Somehow I managed, with a 6:47 pace.

By Leg 6, I just couldn't wait for it to be over.  At the transition area, there was another team of Ultra runners (team Are We There Yet?) waiting for their runner as I was waiting for Josh.  They had started 20 minutes before us (so we were about 20 minutes faster than them), but we could tell they were competitive and wanted to pass us.  The guy running against me looked really fast, so I was nervous.  Josh came in first.  And when he gave me his slap band, I just booked it fast as I could go.  My legs were jello by then but I knew I just had four miles to go I so I pushed strong.

And then it happened.  The friggin stop light turned red and the traffic cop made me stand still while he let traffic through. He had the nerve to joke with me that I was "lucky to get a break."  I was so angry.  I had run so fast to get ahead of that guy from Are We There Yet, and then I had to stand there and wait for him to catch up to me.  For like eternity I was standing there.  Ugh.

I ended up getting to the transition a few seconds before the other guy, but not by much.  He definitely made a lot of time on me, since he was faster and didn't have to wait at the light.  I did my 4.03 miles at 6:55 pace.  If you deduct the 55 seconds I was waiting for the light, then a 6:41 pace, which sounds much better.  I was so, so, so glad to be done, though.

But then, there got to be a little bit of a race between us and team Are We There Yet.  Granted, they did start 20 minutes before us, so they weren't really our competition.  But their 5th runner ended up passing Peter on his last leg.  And as he came running into the transition before Peter, he shouted out to us, in the most obnoxious way, "Oooohhh, where's YOUR guy??"  Jerk.  I thought it was really unsportsmanlike.  So of course, I wanted to kick their ass.  Luckily, we had Darin as our anchor, and he just blew right past their 6th runner.  Take that, suckers.  How you like gettin' crushed by a a group of gays!  Hahhaahaa...

When we saw Darin coming in on the beach, I was so happy!  We all ran through the finish line with him, thrilled at being finished, and so excited about our excellent race!  We ended up finishing the 191.92 miles in 21:13:29, or a smoking 6:38 pace!  (I did my 28.67 miles in a 6:44 pace, which I was THRILLED about!).  We were 11th place overall out of 434 finishers, and 2nd in the Men's Ultra division, right behind the FRNY Mission Men.  I was so pleased with our performance, and so happy I got to do the race with some of my best friends, and also very glad that I got to see every other Front Runner team along the way.  Congratulations to the other FRNY Teams: Mission Men, The Clowns'll Get Me, the Real Front Runners of New York, the U-Haulers, and the Ultragays for Women.  And a HUGE congratulations and THANK YOU goes out to my team, the Front Runners New York Ultragays, for your amazing racing and for giving me an wonderful, wonderful experience that I'll never forget.

Spring Reach the Beach!!

We did it!!!

After 200 miles, two lost runners, a lost driver, a bloody, nighttime fall requiring a visit to the medical tent, and another fall resulting in the incapacity of a runner, the team of Ultra Front Runners NY battled our horrible luck and finished the inaugural 200-mile Spring Reach the Beach Relay in Third Place overall out of 150 teams, and 2nd place in the Men's Ultra division. It was tough, and at times it seemed that even just finishing the race would be hopeless. But we pulled together as a team, fought hard, and finished strong and proud of all that we had overcome. It was an incredible experience, one that I shared with the greatest of friends, and I will never forget how impressively my team ran and how proud I was to be a part of it.

The entire experience is even more meaningful because it almost never even happened for me. I was never supposed to be on the team, and, in fact, I thought Kelsey and Josh were nuts to do another Ultra Relay just two weeks after we did the Cape Relay. Then last Monday, I got a message from John saying that Rich was injured and wouldn't be able to run, and asking me if I could run in his place. My first reaction was, "No f---ing way." But then John, Kelsey and Josh tag-team-texted me to get me to join them, with the promise that I could just do five of the six legs, and Josh would run a 7th. I finally relented. I was planning on running the Brooklyn Half this weekend anyway, and I would only have to run about 21 miles, so I said what the heck.

I was a little terrified, though. Everyone else on the team was MUCH faster than me. And even though I've been running well recently, I'm nowhere near the same ballpark as they are, and I really didn't want to let them down. But, I was determined to do my best, and was excited about the opportunity to run hard and push myself, especially since I was disappointed that I didn't get to do that at the Cape Relay.

So, off we went to Massachusetts. It became a running joke throughout the trip as Kelsey, Josh, John and I recounted stories just two weeks prior of our very same trip. Every once in a while, someone would say, (a la American Pie): "This one time, two weeks ago..." Also, I realized that it was my fourth trip with Kelsey to Massachusetts in less than two months: our Boston Blue Line Run, the Boston Marathon, and the Cape Relay. I felt very fortunate to be able to share my big runs with such a great friend and Koach.

After a deja vu-inducing dinner at the Post Road Dinner in Norwalk, Conn., and a hearty breakfast at Denny's in Mass., we arrived at Wachusett Mountain in Princeton, Mass. for the start of the race. I was going to run the 5th set of legs, but just the first five times, for a total of 21.58 miles. Frankly, I was relieved that I had so few miles to run. I figured that even if I was significantly slower than the rest of the team, I would have a minimal negative impact on their overall time. I was also happy that all of my legs were relatively short, and my only long-ish leg was early on in the race, when my legs were still fresh.

What I was really nervous about, however, was the fact that there was another FRNY Ultra Team that had the same starting time as we did. Of course, both of our teams were out there to have fun, and it was great to have the company of other Front Runners on the course. But I couldn't help but think about the fact that Michael S. was on the other team, also running the 5th leg, and I was dreading, dreading, dreading the--in my mind, inevitable--moment when he would smoke past me and leave me in his dust.

So, for my first leg, I was a little nervous. Luckily, it was a short leg, only 3.3 miles, and we had amassed about a 7-minute lead over the other team. Still, I was determined (mostly out of fear) to not get passed. When I got the slap bracelet from John, I made a mad dash out of the transition zone and down the hill. That first leg, though, had a net elevation loss of almost 300 feet. And I was flying. But I knew right away that I was going too fast. I knew that I would come to regret flying down that hill and pounding my quads so hard. But I couldn't help myself, it was just so fun to go that fast. After a couple of minutes, my Garmin beeped to let me know I covered a half a mile. I looked down at my watch. Eeek! 2:43... or a 5:27 pace. What was I thinking?!?! I made myself slow down a bit. But I was still leaning forward to take advantage of gravity pulling me downhill. I tried to make my steps as light as possible to minimize the impact on my quads. 

I was also (irrationally, I guess) convinced that Michael was right on my heals. I took a quick look behind me a few times and of course he was nowhere near me. I did end up getting passed by someone from Team Race Menu, the team that ultimately ended up winning the whole race. The guy just smoked me. He must have been going at close to a 5 minute pace for that run, because he completely whizzed by me and before I could even react, he was long gone. And I was still running fast, too. In the end, I finished that first leg in 19:56, or a 5:57 pace. It was my fastest road run ever except the 1.7-mile Norway Run that I did in 2008. If it was two-tenths of a mile shorter, it would have bested my 5K PR by a whopping 16 seconds per mile. I felt amazing, and I was excited about my other legs for the race.

By my second leg, we were about 26 minutes ahead of the other team, and the leading Team Race Menu was way ahead of us so we weren't going to be able to reach them. Kelsey suggested that we run this leg at about 90-95 percent effort, the idea being that we had comfortably settled into our spot and would save our legs for if we needed to really race in the later legs. So I took my second leg a bit easier. At 5.58 miles, it was my longest leg, so I didn't want to start out too fast. I tried to keep my pace around a 6:30-6:40. And in doing so, I ended up passing a lot of teams that started before us. It was a great feeling to slowly catch up to people and pick them off one by one. The van stopped for me halfway through to give me water, and it was good to see them. This was probably my favorite run, because I had no real pressure, my legs were still feeling strong, and I could run it at a comfortable but fast-ish pace. I finished this leg in 37:03, or 6:38 pace, right about what I expected.

It was in our third rotation that things took a turn for the worse. We got lost, for the first of many times. But at least we have a good story to tell. John and Kelsey stayed at the transition while the rest of us when to look for Gabe, our missing runner. We found him, about a mile and a half past the transition. Rich stopped the van, jumped out, and pointed Gabe in the right direction. But instead of putting the van in  park, he put it in reverse! There we were, in the middle of the night, and our driverless van was speeding down the street backwards. I was in the passenger's seat, half comatose when I realized what was happening. I got up, dived into the driver's seat and reached for the brake pedal with my hand. The van practically screeched to a halt as we narrowly avoided certain disaster! And then all five of us started busting out laughing. It was the perfect way to break up the tense, somewhat frustrating feeling of getting lost on the course. And it was at that moment that I realized how glad I was to be on a team where even in the most difficult situation, we managed to have fun and laugh together. It reminded me that I did these relays not just to run and compete with other teams, but to have fun with my friends, and that was exactly what we were doing.

Before long, we were back on course. But this time, only about a minute or two separated me from Michael on our third leg. So, again, I was terrified. Kelsey sensed my trepidation, and pulled me aside to give me a pep talk before my leg. And he told me exactly what I needed to hear to put my nerves at ease. It's times like this that I realize how lucky I am to have a friend who's my coach who also has a background in social work. Kelsey always knows what to say to get me in the right mental place for a big race; just one of his many, many amazing qualities.  :-)

And so, when I got the wristband from John, I busted out of the transition, determined not to get passed. As I was leaving, I think I saw Chris coming into the transition to hand off to Michael, so I knew that it was tight. But I just ran that leg as fast as I could. It was a bit scary because it was past midnight and in the pitch black dark. But I refused to let myself get passed. I also had the advantage of not having to run a sixth leg, so I knew I didn't need to save my legs for a long 7.3-miler at the end like Michael needed to. So I just friggin ran. Rarely have I ever run that hard, pushing both my physical and mental limits like that. It was exhilarating. It was also terrifying. But I wasn't about to let my team and myself down, so I just kept pushing, never looking back. Before I knew it, the 3.39 miles were over, and I was still in the lead! 3.39 miles in 21:50, or a 6:26 pace. Exactly the same pace as my Coogan's 5K back in March, a race that I was very thrilled about. So I was ecstatic that I ran the same pace for a longer distance after already running 9 very fast miles. And of course, I was very, very relieved that I didn't get passed.

Over the next few legs, we started gaining some more time on the other team. And I was again relieved that there would be some room separating me and Michael so I wouldn't have to push myself so hard. But then we got lost again. We had ended up behind the other team, until Gabe and John was able to pull us ahead slightly. At this point it was actually Michael who gave me a reassuring talk, which I was really appreciative of. Still, I knew that I would leave the transition only about a minute or so ahead of him, so I knew I needed to push as hard as I could. I wasn't looking forward to that, and I had just about resigned myself to getting passed by him.

When I got the wristband from John, I couldn't see how far behind him Chris was, but I knew he would be coming in any second. So, again, I busted out of the transition and ran as fast as I could. This would be my most challenge leg of the relay--not because of the distance or the elevation, but because of the circumstances. It was 3:30 in the morning, I was extremely tired from both lack of sleep and having run 13 miles already, I was pushing myself to run as fast as I could, I was running with an almost overwhelming sense of fear that I would get passed by Michael, and to top it all off, I was running in the pitch black dark. I seriously couldn't see anything. The tiny headlamp I was wearing was no match for the thick fog and darkness of the night. I prayed that I wouldn't step on a pothole or a crack in the road.

And at this point I was getting a little delirious. I thought I was running on the sidewalk, which was separated from the main road by a curb. I jumped over the curb to run on the street--only to realize that it wasn't a curb, but just a painted white line separating the shoulder from the road. The last half mile of the leg was even worse, as I ran onto some sort of park trail for the transition. The trees overhead blocked out any possible speck of moonlight. As I turned onto the trail, one of the race volunteers told me to watch out for potholes. I had to let out a laugh, because how the heck are you supposed to watch for potholes if you can't even see them?!? But somehow, somehow I was able to finish that leg in one piece, and I was so happy to see Kelsey at the transition.

I'm not sure how I did it, but I managed to fend off Michael for that fourth leg too--although just barely; I think he came in about 10 seconds after me. And somehow, I managed to post another fast time: 4.31 miles in 27:53, or a 6:27 pace. I was, again, so happy that I was able to run as fast as I did. And I only had one more leg to go!

But after I ran that leg, we got lost a third time. After four rotations, we were 9 minutes behind the other FRNY team. And in his leg before mine, John had fallen in the dark, badly scraping up his hands, arms and torso. It was looking like we just weren't meant to have a successful race.

The fifth set of legs was probably the hardest one for the team. For the first time during the relay, we were several minutes behind the other team. We were all starting to feel the toil of our bodies, and some of us had already run more than 30 miles. We briefly saw some of the other team's runners on the road, and they looked like they were still going strong. It was disheartening.

And then John came running into the transition. And I was off, one last time. I think this was the hardest leg for me mentally, as I knew that no matter how hard I ran, I would never be able to catch up to Michael. Not that I was able to run very hard at all... My legs were beat, my spirits were low, and I just wanted my run to end. I don't remember a whole lot about this leg except that I ran over a rickety little bridge; and each time a car would drive over it, it would bounce and send shockwaves up my legs. I couldn't wait for that run to be over.

And then, 4.47 miles later, it was over; I had finished in 30:18, or a 6:46 pace. It was my slowest leg of the race, but I was done! I had finished my five legs, totaling about 21.58 miles in 2:17:00 or 6:20 pace!!! (My Garmin says the course was only 21.1 miles, so it would be 6:29 pace; either way I was pleased!). I was so happy I was finished. And I was so glad that I had run strong for all of my five legs. It was an amazing race, and I felt great to be done and be able to rest.

But that feeling didn't last long. Kelsey, running right after me, ended up falling too. As he limped into the transition, shorts tattered, with a pained expression on his face, our hearts sank. Kelsey had sprained his ankle, badly, and wasn't going to be able to run his 6th leg. I think it's fair to say we were pretty devastated at that point. Not because we weren't going to win the relay, but because our good friend and coach Kelsey, who has never had an injury as long as any of us has ever known him, was suddenly unable to walk without assistance. Finishing the relay seemed at this point to be a lesser priority than taking care of the team's members. But still, we soldiered on, determined to finish despite being kicked while we were down.

It was during that very last set of legs that I really was so proud to be a member of the Ultra Front Runners NY team. It was pretty evident at that point that we weren't going to win. Our team was exhausted, broken and bloodied. But with our amazing and inspiring resilience, we pulled ourselves together, and made our way to that finish.

I ended up having to run that sixth leg of mine. And it was brutal... 7.29 miles in what was then the mid-morning heat.  I felt like I was running in slow motion, like the leg would never end. But despite it being my longest and slowest leg by far, I knew that I had the support of my team carrying me along the way. They were there at the halfway point, ready with a bottle of water for me. And then, a loooong 55 minutes after I started, they were at the transition area. And I could hear them ecstatically cheering for me way before I even set foot in the zone. Those cheers meant that we had really accomplished something. Running 200 miles despite being kicked down over and over again.  Showing our strength and unity as a team when all of the forces seemed to want to pull us apart. And being able to laugh and have fun amidst a disappointing string of bad luck.

About 7 miles later, Josh finished the last leg, and we had REACHED THE BEACH! Our final time was 22:25:29, or a 6:41 average pace. We had finished 3rd overall out of 150 teams, and 2nd in the Men's Ultra division. The other FRNY team, A Case of the Runners, finished about 20 minutes ahead of us, and were there to cheer us in.

According to my Garmin, I ran a total of 28.39 miles in 3:12:18, for an average pace of 6:46. The official RTB course maps say I ran 28.87 miles, which would come out to a 6:39 pace. Either way, I am super thrilled with my performance.

And then we got to celebrate with a nice New England Clambake, complete with a lobster roll, mussels and chowdah. Our first real meal in 24 hours, and it was a tasty one.  :-)

In the end, although the race had not gone quite as we had hoped, we were all very proud of our accomplishment, and happy to have been able to run together. I, for one, was so honored to have been included on the team, and so inspired by everyone's resilience and determination. And most of all, despite everything that happened, all of the bad luck we experienced, I had some of the most fun I've ever had. Congratulations to A Case of the Runners for a great race, and thank you, Josh, Tyler, Gabe, John, Kelsey and Rich, for making Spring Reach the Beach 2011 an experience I'll never forget!

Reach the Beach 2010!!!

We did it!!!  After 209.06 miles, 25 hours 9 minutes and 27 seconds, team Front Runners NY Ultragays ran from Cannon Mountain to Hampton Beach, covering countless miles of misery, sleeplessness, terror, darkness, cold, and agony.  Along the way, there were many unforgettable moments of jubilation, excitement, and just plain fun that made Reach the Beach 2010 one of my favorite running events of all time.

In a first for FRNY, we sent SIX teams of runners to RTB this year: a regular 12-person men's team ("The Real Front Runners of New York"), four men's ultra teams ("The Ultra Mission Men," "Fast Not Furious," "The Clowns Will Get Me," and "The Ultragays") and one mixed team ("The Ladies Tea Society")--in total about 50 runners and support people.  And from what I can tell, everyone had a ton of fun and put in some really impressive racing.

We started the morning with FRNY's traditional pre-RTB breakfast at Polly's Pancake Parlor in Sugar Hill, NH.  These are seriously the best pancakes anywhere!  You get to choose your own batter and mix-in for each pancake.... I got buckwheat/blueberry, oatmeal buttermilk/chocolate chip, and cornmeal/coconut...  yummm!!

After breakfast, team Ultragays got to Cannon Mountain for our 3pm start.  This year, our start time was the same as three of the four other FRNY men's teams.  This was both good and bad.  Good because, at least at the beginning, we would be seeing the other teams along the course.  Bad because the fact that we would be "competing" against each other could make things a bit more stressful.  The other two ultra teams (the Mission Men and Fast Not Furious) were quite a bit faster than us, so I expected them to take off pretty quickly and probably lose us not long after the start.  But I figured we were pretty evenly matched up against the Real Front Runners team (even though they were 12 and we were just 6), so I was a little nervous that it could become an intense fight for the finish the whole way.  Actually, the thought of a competition made me feel super anxious...during the pre-race orientation, Mike Terry had to calm me down because I was pretty much hyperventilating.  I tried to convince myself that we weren't really competing against the other FRNY teams--we were just running the relay to have fun.

There are indeed many opportunities to focus on having fun at RTB in a way that does not involve the stresses of racing.  One is our wardrobe.  The Ultragays of course were wearing cute little custom singlets.  We got navy Asics singlets this year, very similar to the official FRNY racing singlets, but with "ULTRAGAYS" emblazoned on the front with our team motto, "Live FAB or Die!"  People definitely noticed us, and we got a bunch of compliments.  We also decorated our van proudly proclaiming that we were the Ultragays.  I think we were able to bring a lot of good attention to both our team and FRNY.  Probably in part due to our van and singlets, and partly due to our fabulousness, we found out there was another gay running team in the race, a non-FRNY team, "GURL Boston."  I think GURL stands for Gay Urban Running League.  We met some of their runners and they seemed very nice.  If any of you GURLs are reading this, feel free to come to an FRNY Fun Run the next time you're in New York!

At 3:00, our teams were off.  Kyle was the first to run.  His first leg was a moderate-hard 7.97 miles, leading out of Cannon Mountain onto the the roads of Franconia, NH.  We had planned to meet him halfway to give him Gatorade.  As we entered the van and drove off, this was when our first (and, thankfully, only real) stressful incident came.  The time was ticking, we had to meet Kyle about 30 minutes after he started, and I realized that I lost my cell phone.  I was torn between just letting go and hoping the phone made its way to the  lost and found, and having my whole team turn around to look for my phone.  We ended up turning around the van, getting a little lost on the highway, running back to the start, where the race official had found my phone and was holding it for safekeeping.  Apparently, as I was jumping up and down cheering on Kyle and the other Front Runners, my phone fell out of my pocket.  Anyway, crisis averted.

I was the sixth leg in my team, so the last one to go.  The order was Kyle, Evan, Peter, Onesimo, Mike Terry and me.  Paul was our driver.  Here's our list of legs:

My hope for the relay was to keep all of my legs to a 7:00-7:30 pace.  I started my first leg at 6:10 pm, so I had to don a reflective vest with flashing lights and a headlamp even though it wasn't dark yet. For my first leg, which was also my longest at 8.62 miles and a net downhill of 373 feet, my concern was to not go too fast.  I knew that the downhill pounding would be killer on my quads, which I would definitely regret by leg five or six, so I tried my best not to let myself get carried away.  RTB is the one time of year when I break out my Garmin, since the miles aren't marked and I would go crazy not knowing how fast I'm going or how much I have left.  I set the watch to beep every half mile so I could adjust my running accordingly.  My pacing was a little inconsistent on this first leg, with half-mile laps between 3:23 (6:46 pace) and 3:39 (7:18 pace).  But I finished leg 1 pretty much right on target in 60:52 (7:03 pace).

My second leg was at 10:36 pm.  It was short, just 3.87 miles, but there was a bit of a vertical climb.  This was my first leg in the dark.  To make matters worse, the first half mile was in the woods.  It was pitch black, not even any moonlight could get in through the trees.  And while the first quarter mile was on a paved bike path, it soon turned into a dirt trail.  OMG, are you kidding me?!?!  There was no light, and twigs and rocks were all over the place.  I could just imagine myself twisting an ankle and taking a spill.  I was going slowly in this area, and I got passed by two runners, but I thought that it would be better to be safe than sorry.  This leg was more consistent, though, with half-mile splits between 3:32 (7:04 pace) and 3:43 (7:26 pace).  My final time was 27:41 (7:09 pace).  

Right after my second leg, we drove to Transition Area 13, which is always my favorite TA.  Here, some local townspeople set up a veritable smörgåsbord of hot, tasty, home-cooked food.  I filled up, and it really hit the spot.

I was definitely concerned about my third leg, which I started at 3:10 am.  It was 4.89 miles and, although it was mostly downhill, the last mile had a 250' rise.  I took my first half mile out at 3:18 (6:36 pace), which I soon realized was way too fast.  I slowed down a bit and my next three miles were all around 7:30 pace.  But then the hill came.  It was pretty brutal, although I did pass three people.  My Garmin beeped but I refused to look at it because I didn't want to know how slow I was going.  About a third of a mile from the finish, a runner passed me, and I mustered up all the energy I could to try to stay with him.  But I couldn't really hang on, and he finished quite a bit before me.  So the splits for the last 2 miles were:

              Mile 3.0 - 3.5    3:56 (7:52 pace)

              Mile 3.5 - 4.0    4:04 (8:08 pace)

              Mile 4.0 - 4.5    4:16 (8:32 pace....yikes!)

              Mile 4.5 - 4.89  3:10 (8:08 pace) 

This was my slowest leg, which I finished in 38:22 (7:50 pace).  Ugh.

After leg 3, I pretty much passed out.  I felt like crap.  As you can see, I looked like crap too:

I ended up sleeping through the next several transitions.  I just didn't have the energy to cheer on everyone or help give out Gatorade.  Apparently, at one point I abruptly woke up from my slumber and yelled out mean/funny things about certain other people...I don't really remember, I was pretty delirious at that point.

I was really nervous about leg 4.  It wasn't particularly difficult, except for a half-mile, 90 foot hill at mile 5.5 (pretty similar in size and distance to Harlem Hill), but it was my second longest run at 6.87 miles.  I felt like my legs had nothing more to give.  I popped an Aleve beforehand and hoped for the best.  I don't remember very much about this leg, but it began at 7:45 am, so I didn't have to wear the stupid vest anymore.  (You can see from the picture above that I had to put medical tape on my neck because the vest was chafing it so much.)  The van stopped about halfway through to give me Gatorade.  A woman passed me, going really fast and I couldn't keep up with her; that annoyed me.  But I did manage to pass about a dozen other people.  I finished in 51:42, for an average 7:31 pace on this leg.  The half-mile that included the big hill was at 4:07 (8:14 pace).

Somewhere between my 4th and 5th legs, the "Real Front Runners" team passed us.  I felt completely defeated.  Of course, it wasn't really a competition, especially since they had twelve runners compared to our six.  But we had been ahead up until now, and it was so disappointing that with their much fresher legs, they had caught up and then overtaken us.  At this point, I started to get stressed out.  Our teams were pretty much neck and neck.  I was running against Manja from the Real Front Runners.  Leg five was a short one, only 3.15 miles.  It was 12:47 pm, and I felt like it was a new day.  As I stood at the transition area with Manja, I saw that Mike, from my team, was the next runner to come in.  He had taken the lead back for the Ultragays!  I couldn't see where the next Real Front Runner was, so I knew I had a comfortable lead.  I grabbed the baton/wristband from Mike and proceeded to BOOK IT out of there.  My emotions were all over the place. But I knew I couldn't let myself get passed by Manja.  I ran so friggin fast.  My first half mile was 3:18 (6:36 pace).  I knew there was no way I could sustain that speed, after already running over 24 miles.  But I couldn't help it -- I was terrified at the prospect of being passed by another Front Runner.  My first two miles were well under 7 minute pace.  It was so hard.  I looked over my shoulder after a left turn to see if he was behind me.  I didn't see him, and let out a huge sigh of relief.  I slowed down a tiny bit for the last mile, and made it to the transition at 21:38...a 6:52 pace, my fastest pace of the day!  Manja must have been flying for that last mile too, though, because he came in right after me.

By the time I was up for the final leg of the race, the Real Front Runners had passed us again and were well ahead of us.  I actually felt this was a bit of a relief.  I couldn't bear another intensely stressful, fast leg.  My last leg was 4.09 miles.  It was also the very last leg of the relay, so I got to actually "Reach the Beach."  The leg started at 3:40 in the afternoon, and I was so exhausted by this point after 24 hours of racing.  The first two miles headed straight towards the beach, and the last two miles ran along the coastline.  About a mile in, I could smell the sea air and I knew I was getting close.  I had passed several people along the way.  But one guy who I passed at mile 1 decided to stick with me.  He proceeded to follow me, about 3 steps behind me, for the entire rest of the run.  I couldn't shake him off.  And he was pushing me to go faster and faster.  All I wanted was for him to pass me so I could finish my last couple of miles without killing myself.  But he just stuck on, three feet behind me.  As we were at the last half mile or so, spectators were cheering for us.  They loved the fact that we were almost neck-and-neck.  I heard someone shout out that there was a fight to the finish.  Around this time, I also heard, coming from above, people shouting "DAAAVE LIIIIINNN!"  I didn't know who it was or where it came from, but it just pushed me to go harder and faster.

Then, with about a quarter mile left, I made a turn, and I had reached the beach!  But... I had to run on....  SAND?!?!   Not even packed beach sand but loose sand, that almost stopped me dead in my tracks.  But I knew that the other guy was just a few feet behind me, so I kept pushing, trying to wade through the ankle-deep sand.  And finally, FINALLY, I saw the finishing chute.  I looked for my team but they were nowhere in sight.  I heard other Front Runners though, cheering for me, and I just ran as hard as I could possibly go through that finish line.

It was exhilarating.  It was such of rush of emotions.  I had no idea I could push myself that hard.  I was so relieved it was over.  I was so happy to see other Front Runners at the end to cheer me through.  But I was so heartbroken that the rest of the Ultragays weren't there to share the moment with me (their van had apparently gotten stuck in traffic and couldn't make it to the finish in time).

That last leg, miles 27-31, was one of my faster ones, which I ran at a 7:04 pace.  I was elated.  This past year has been a tough one for me and my running.  I knew I was undertrained.  I've had to deal with my butt injury for almost a year now.  Through x-rays, MRIs, loads of physical therapy, and even a steroid injection, my running (and my sanity) have taken quite a toll.  I truly, really had doubts about whether I would be able to finish this race.

But in the end, both my team and I (and my Club) did great.  I finished my 31.49 miles at a 7:16 pace.  A little bit slower than last year's 7:03 pace, but a solid time nonetheless.  I felt great at the finish and proud that I could push myself so hard.  My team, the Ultragays, was the fifth FRNY team, but I was so happy of our achievement.  We finished the 209.06 miles at an astonishing 7:13 pace, enough to place us 25th out of 429 finishers (most of whom were 12-person teams).  And even more important than our clock time, was the fact that we had just a great time together.  Due to several dropouts, the Jewish holiday, injury and last minute conflicts, our team was not assembled until two days before we left for New Hampshire.  At times, I had doubts about whether there would actually be an Ultragays team.  But in the end, we all raced remarkably well, and we had a time that none of us will ever forget.  Thanks Mike, Kyle, Peter, Onesimo, Evan and Paul for making Reach the Beach 2010 such a great, exciting, crazy, memorable and fun experience!

Congratulations to all of the Front Runners New York teams, and to everyone who ran Reach the Beach!!!

Team Name     

Overall   Category   Cat/Plc.  Pace   Finish Time

--------  --------   --------  ----   ----------

FRNY Ultra Mission Men          

10   1-Men Ultra     1/19      6:27   22:31:00

Front Runners Fast not Furious  

13   1-Men Ultra     2/19      6:38   23:07:43

FRNY - The Clowns Will Get Me   

19   1-Men Ultra     5/19      7:08   24:52:26

Real Front Runners of New York  

24   2-Men Open      6/118     7:11   25:04:29

Front Runners NY Ultragays      

25   1-Men Ultra     6/19      7:13   25:09:27

FRNY Ladies Tea Society         

330  14-Mixed Open   104/148   8:53   30:58:53

24-Hour Half Ironman

I did my first Half Ironman this weekend!  Well, not really.  But within 24 hours, I did 14-mile run, a 70-mile bike ride, and a one-mile ocean swim, all with some good friends.  I think I felt just as exhausted afterwards as I would have if it were a real half ironman.  But I definitely had more fun.

On Saturday, I did my first long run of the season.  I received a horrifying reminder last week from Mikey B that the Reach the Beach Relay was just four and a half weeks away.  RTB is a 200-mile relay race that starts on the northern edge of New Hampshire's White Mountains, and winds its way through fields, lakesides, moutaintop vistas, and many, many, many small towns, to eventually finish at Hampton Beach, New Hampshire's little slice of the Atlantic oceanfront.  A normal Reach the Beach team consists of 12 runners, each running three legs of varying distances to cover the 200 miles.  This year will be my fourth year running RTB, and my second year as part of an Ultra team ("Team FRNY Ultragays!").  The Ultra teams consist of just six runners, running six legs each.  Each runner will cover between 27 and 44 miles.  You can see why I'd be nervous that it's just four weeks away.

So I guess I need to get in shape.  The official Front Runners Long Run this weekend was 14 miles, from Rutgers Church, down Park Avenue and across the Brooklyn Bridge and back.  This route took advantage of Summer Streets, where the city closed down Park Ave to traffic for three Saturdays in August.  I thought this would be the perfect first long run of the season since the many traffic lights along the way would mean frequent breaks.  My plan was to go and hope that someone would be up for running some sloooow miles with me.

Luckily Michael O showed up and we decided to run together.  It was the perfect relaxed pace for me, and I got to catch up on all of the good club gossip that I've been missing out on.  :-)  Running with Michael is always fun because he has such great stories to tell, and it makes the miles go by so much quicker.

I'm not gonna lie, though.  This was my first long run since the Brooklyn Half, and it really felt like my first long run.  At mile 12, the two of us walked for a few minutes.  But in the end, we finished, with plenty of time for bagels at the church afterwards, and I felt pretty good.  For the next four weeks, I'm planning on beefing up my running, doing a full 6 miles (or more) on Wednesdays, and maybe even doing the Tuesday hill workouts (starting out slowly).  In four weeks, 27 miles will be a snap.

*                              *                                   *

Forty-five minutes after we left the fun run on Saturday, Rachel, Mike and I met up again--this time, with our biking gear on the Westside Highway to go on our ride to Asbury Park.  The plan was to bike down to the World Trade Center PATH station, take the train to Newark, and then bike down from Newark to Asbury Park.  Getting out to Newark Penn Station took us a little longer than expected, and we didn't really start our bike ride under about 2:45.

The first 20 miles were the worst part of the trip.  It was very urban, somewhat technical, and not particularly fun.  I suppose there's no better way, though, to get out of Newark (other than, of course, taking the NJ Transit further South, but that feels like cheating).  About 10 miles into the ride, we had a little picnic of Clif Bars and Gu in Rahway, where we took this picture:

Then we were off again.  At about mile 20, we hit one of the highlights of the ride, which was crossing the Victory Bridge over the Raritan River in New Jersey.  The bridge connects Perth Amboy to the North and Sayreville to the South.  With a 440 feet span, it has the distinction of being the longest precast cantilever segmental bridge in the country (whatever that means).  It was also the hardest hill climb in an otherwise completely flat course.

(This isn't my picture, but it's a pretty one of the bridge)

It was around this time that I got my first flat tire.  I didn't notice it pop or anything, I just felt something wasn't quite right.  Mike was riding behind me and he actually pointed out to me that I got a flat.  It wasn't really a big deal, since I had changed a flat before and I brought two spare tubes with me.  It was actually a nice little break from riding, and I got to practice changing a flat.  This was my first rear-wheel flat, so Rachel had to show me how to disengage the chain from the gears.  But other than that, it was a breeze and we were soon on our way again.

Two miles later,  I got a second flat, this time in my front wheel.  I couldn't believe it.  I had gone hundreds of miles with only one flat tire, and then all of a sudden I get two flats in 10 minutes?  What are the odds?  This time, I must have hit or run over something, because I suddenly heard a very loud hissing sound coming from below, and in a matter of a few seconds all the air was gone.  I had an extra spare tube, so again, it was no problem, and we were on our way again.

Then we got a little lost.  Our cue sheet told us to turn left on Cheesequake Road from Bordentown Ave in Old Bridge, NJ.  Well, apparently Cheesequake Road intersects with Bordentown Ave at two different locations, about a mile apart.  So that took us a while to figure out.  And then we had to renavigate because the cue sheet  told us to go on Old Water Works Road, which, we found out a little too late, was an unpaved road.  Ugh.  Fortunately, my new cell phone has a fancy GPS function, so we were not left stranded.

About 35 miles into our ride, we hit our first segment of the Henry Hudson Bike Trail.  The 22-mile trail transverses Monmouth County, New Jersey, from the marshy regions of the Bayshore to the woods and fields of Marlboro and Freehold, NJ.  Much of the trail is tree-lined, with some pretty views of surrounding wetlands, streams and fields.  By this time, it was starting to get a little dark.  It wasn't too bad, but the treetops blocked what little light there was.

Around mile 42, we made a stop in Keansburg, NJ for some pizza.  It felt good to fuel up and rest our legs a bit.

Our planned route had us switching over from the Henry Hudson Bike Path to the Bayshore Trail, a scenic bike path the hugs the waterfront of the Raritan Bay, and then across the Highland Bridge into Sea Bright (on the northern, barrier peninsula part of the Jersey Shore).  A random guy passing by in a truck told us that it was just a straight shot on Route 36 that would bring us directly to the Highland Bridge.  I'm not sure why, but we decided to take his advice, even though it deviated from out map.  Big mistake.  Before we knew it, we were on Route 36/Memorial Parkway, a scary highway with really fast cars and barely any shoulder.  Not a good place to be as the sun was setting.

Fortunately, this was about the time that I got my third flat tire.  Now, when this happened, I kind of thought to myself, "OMG, we're all doomed."  We're in the middle of a highway, 20 miles away from our destination, with no idea how to get there and I keep getting flat tires every few miles.  As I changed my flat, starting to get nervous about the whole situation, Mike looks again at the GPS on my phone.  He found a new route for us, taking us off the highway, across the Navesink River, into Rumson, and across the Shrewsbury River Bridge into the Southern part of Sea Bright.

It turned out that the new route Mike found not only allowed us to escape the scary highway, but it brought us to what I thought was the biggest highlight of the ride, the Oceanic Bridge.  The 2,712 foot bridge connects Rumson and Middletown over the Navesink River.  There's a marina by the bridge, and it all just looked really spectacular.  I wish I took a picture, but the one here gives some sort of idea.

Shortly after we crossed the bridge, we had FINALLY made our way to the Jersey Shore!  But we were still about 10 miles away from Asbury Park.  The ride from Sea Bright to Asbury, though, was a pleasant one, well lit and a straight shot down Ocean Avenue, and it's a route that we had all covered much of during the Metroman Triathlon.

As we rode down Ocean Ave, I felt energized and started pedaling stronger.  I went over a bump, and seconds later I heard Rachel calling my name.  Apparently something had fell from my bike.  Mike circled around and went to see what it was.  It turned out that my WALLET had fallen from my bag, which I had left unzipped since my flat tire about five miles ago!  Wow, I was glad Rachel caught that.  And I was glad that it didn't fall out about 2 miles earlier, when we were biking on the darker residential roads.  And I was glad that my keys, in the same unzipped pocked, didn't fall out.  Disaster (barely) averted!!

Off we go again.  As we reach Long Brach (about 8 miles from Asbury), we got ANOTHER flat!  This time it was Mike's tire, though.  I was so happy that, for once, it wasn't me who got the flat!  Since Mike had given me his spare tube, he had to use Rachel's.  Which meant that, for our last 8 miles, we had no more spares!

But finally, after 70 miles, four flat tires, and many, many, many hours, we made it to Asbury Park!  By that time, we were all completely physically drained.  But we were so happy we made it.  We were also famished.  So we biked directly to Old Man Rafferty's, where the other patrons' and waiters' jaws dropped when we told them we biked in from Newark.  We each had a delicious (and big!) dinner, topped off with two slices of their decadent desserts (peanut butter silk and rocky road cake)!  Yummmmm!  It was a great end to a wonderful, crazy and exhausting day.

*                              *                                   *

So one of us had the bright idea to do a swim race the next morning.  I don't think any of us could believe we were actually going to go through with it.  But sure enough, we all woke up at 6:15 Sunday morning to bike the 7 miles from Asbury to Sea Girt for the 15th Annual Sea Girt Ocean Mile.

To say my entire body was sore from the run and the bike ride the day before was an understatement.  I figured, though, that I could do the swim at an easy pace with no pressure.  My legs felt kind of like Jello, so there would not be much kicking.

When we got to Sea Girt, the ocean didn't seem too bad.  Alison, who lives in Monmouth Beach, also came down for the swim.  She said the water was quite choppy today.  But again, it didn't seem so bad to me.

I don't remember if I said this before, but I'm becoming quite the pro at running into the water and diving underneath the waves.  Just a couple of months ago, I couldn't make myself go under the waves at all, it just terrified me to much to have the waving crashing over me.  But now I think it's actually kind of fun.

Once we got into the water, though, it was like the waves didn't stop.  On my previous swims, we would just swim out past the waves and then the rest of the swim would be pretty smooth.  Not this time.  I finally realized what Alison meant by "choppy."  I felt like I was in a clothes dryer being tumbled around.  There was no way to escape it.  I kept going up and down, up and down, and getting pushed around by the water.  It was so hard, I couldn't swim in a straight line.  And to make things worse, there were absolutely no buoys on the course to help guide the way--only one at the start and two waaaaayyy down at the turnaround point, so they might as well have been invisible because they were half a mile away and I couldn't see where they were for most of the swim.

I honestly didn't know if I could finish it.  The field of swimmers had drastically thinned out, and I was just starting out the swim and couldn't see where the buoys were at the turn.  I tried to calm myself mentally when I realized that I would probably have to swim the whole race with no other swimmers anywhere near me.  For a moment, I got nervous, thinking that the lifeguards with with the rest of the swimmers, and I was all by myself.  It was a little bit terrifying.  And, my goggles were super fogged up, so it was hard to see where I was going.  And every time I stopped swimming to take the goggles off so I could see, I ended up swallowing a big gulp of seawater.  So it was easier to just put my head down and swim, hoping I was going in the right direction.

Eventually, some of the faster swimmers started coming toward me, which made me realize I was going in the right direction and I was approaching the turnaround.  A while later, I finally made it to the bouys, turned around, and headed back again.

But, again, there were no buoys on the course, and I had no idea where I was going, and the waves were pushing me in all different directions.  Probably 5 minutes after the turnaround, a lifeguard on a canoe stopped me.  He asked if I had already done the turnaround.  I said yes.  So he asked me why I was swimming back toward the bouys that marked the turn. I was so confused.  It took me a second to figure out what had happenned, but apparently the waves had pushed me around a full 180 degrees without me noticing it.  The lifeguard pointed me in the right direction, and sent me off, shouting out: "Concentrate on your navigation!"  How embarrassing!

I still couldn't see where that damn buoy was that marked the end.  A few moments later there was another lifeguard.  I asked her if I was going in the right direction, and she said I was.  Then I asked her if I was the last swimmer.  She laughed and said, "Not at all!"  This made me feel a lot better.  Of course, I spent the next few minutes wondering if she was lying to me, so I asked the next lifeguard the same thing, and he also said I wasn't.  By this time I had seen the buoy and was able to focus on finishing.  I could see the huge crowd of finishers gathered on the beach--and knowing that Mike, Rachel and Alison were there, I tried as hard as I could to show them a strong finish.  I heard them screaming my name as I exited the water and ran as fast as I could on my wobbly legs to the finish line.  As I ran by them, I knew they had been standing there for about twenty minutes waiting for me, but I was just so glad to get out of that water and finish.  

Of course, I forgot to look at my time as I finished, but I think it was around 49 minutes.  My slowest one-mile swim ever, and a full 15 minutes slower than my swim last week.  My place, I think, was 127 out of 145.    Still towards the bottom, but definitely not in last place.  I was happy, though.  This was probably my most challenging swim ever, and I made it.  Even better, it meant that I was done with exercising for the weekend!