Conserve your willpower

In 2009 in a controversial cover story TIME magazine declared that exercise won't help weight loss. They proposed that a person has a limited pool of willpower and if you spend this on exercise you won't have any left to control yourself at the table.


Does it apply for everyone? Probably not. Some people can indeed run 20 miles and refuel with a smoothie. Those of us who are weak on the other hand, are already dreaming of philly cheesesteaks at mile 4.

What is not debatable though is that we can all use more willpower. The following paper recently published in PNAS suggests a way to achieve this:

http://www.pnas.org/content/111/27/9786.long

The trick seems to be reframing the outcomes of your choices. They use a money based scheme in the paper, but I will translate it to runner terms.

So, let's say your alarm went off at 6 on a Sunday morning. Instead of thinking "I can turn it off and go on sleeping or I can do my long run and hit my 3:30 marathon target", you should be thinking "I can turn it off, go on sleeping and suffer for the last 15 miles of my upcoming marathon, finishing far off my target or I can stop sleeping, do my long run and hit my 3:30 marathon target".

In other words, you state the negatives for both choices, which is supposed to help you pick the right one without using your precious willpower. (That would be the one where you do the long run, in case there is doubt)

I am going to give it a try. I'll let you know how it goes.

Mud, ice, rain and fog - NYRR opens the season

Nope, it is not your weather forecast, it is my report of NYRR's Central Park season opener - Joe Kleinerman 10K.

I don't know if you noticed, but we had a bit of a cold spell over here in North America. No biggie, just a few degrees below freezing and then some. Even generally mild-weathered NYC had its share of ice, snow and general frostiness. And all of a sudden it shot up. Today's high is expected to be well above freezing. "Polar vortex" might be gone, but it left us some lovely parting gifts and today's race was all about those gifts.

About 6000 runners started the race, which in my opinion is quite the turnout for the first race of the season. Mud was contained in the bag check area, so we didn't have to worry about it too much once we got running. Ice, on the other hand, was covering the Harlem Hill. I tried to run on the median, thinking all those people ahead would melt it a bit. No luck. It was still pretty slippery. In order to avoid a Wile E. Coyote-like situation, I slowed down to a 12 min/mile pace like everyone around and possibly sacrificed a minute or so. On the upside, I believe this is the first time I climbed the Harlem Hill without risk of a heart attack.

Once we got through the North side of the Park, down to the West, we found ourselves in thick fog. And you know what that means! Humidity! So, even though the temperature was an almost perfect 50, 93% humidity killed our joy. Some rain would have been nice, but it decided to wait until the finish, so that we get soaked while getting back home instead of on the course.

I was shooting for a sub 1:00 finish, about 4 minutes slower than my 10K PB in the Park. I thought this would be achievable at my current state of fitness. Alas, I finished at 01:01:01 (yeah!). Aside from its binary beauty, my time obviously is nothing to be too excited about. But patience! This is only the first step in getting some speed into my legs. So as the season rolls along I should be able to report faster mile splits.

One final note. If you haven't already, take a look at this running motivation community organized by the hosts of the podcast Marathon Talk: Jantastic.

What a race, what a city! - NYC Marathon report

Race day attire

"Wow! Just wow! Details later, cause I need to feed and party right now. But what a city!"

After crossing the finish line of the NYC Marathon on November 3rd and getting home from Central Park; I only had time for a quick Facebook update before the arrival of the guests for our post-Marathon party. The words above were all I could come up with. Because... Well... Wow!

A race for the whole World

In NY, we like to claim to be the center of the world. Of course if you are the center, you might wanna invite the world to come over and play every now and then. And we do. About 50 million people visit our fair city every year. The UN meets a few blocks away from Times Square, where the world celebrates the new year. And of course there is the NYC Marathon.

Everyone says the Marathon is an international event, but to get the whole picture you have to attend the opening ceremony on Marathon Friday, two nights before the race. This is something NYRR started in 2011 to celebrate the international participation, so it is still "defining itself"; but to see runners from around the world walk through the finish line, carrying their flags, waving at their cheering fans is simply inspiring. There were about 28000 US runners among the more than 50000 total starters (yeah, 50000!), which leaves us with 22000 internationals. I don't think there is another marathon that comes this close to a half and half split.

International delegations waiting to join the parade

Post-apocalyptic pre-race

After a restive Saturday filled with careful carb-loading and hydrating (and apartment hunting for some reason), I did what every runner does on marathon eve: I prepared my gear, setup 3 separate alarms (two for 5AM, one for 5:30), drank some more water, told Courtney to setup a fourth alarm (because, you know, I may be setting mine wrong. Better safe than sorry!) and went to bed early for the traditional toss-and-turn. I don't know what time I fell asleep, but I was up with the first peep of the first alarm.

After my tried and true pre-run routine (a giant mug of latte with lots of sugar consumed while watching my favorite running themed Youtube videos), I was on my way at 6AM and on board the number 4 train 15 minutes later. As we got closer to the south tip of the island, the number 4 train became "The Runner Express". Quiet looks were exchanged, good luck was wished.

There were many things to see on the Staten Island Ferry. The Statue of Liberty, The Ellis Island, downtown Manhattan in all its glory... And of course the multi-colored throw-away clothes! Boy, were we a badly dressed bunch! It was almost an anti-fashion week. In a controversial decision, NYRR decided to partially eliminate bag checking. There was an uproar and they brought back the option, but a lot of runners chose the "Early Exit" option, which meant you couldn't send a bag from the start line to the finish, which meant the clothes that kept you warm on your way to the start would be left there. Hence the grown men in Donald Duck sweatshirts and grown women in large flowery sweatpants. If you frequent one of the NY area Goodwill stores, they will appear on the racks soon.

To steal from Boromir, "One does not simply walk onto the start line of the NYC Marathon". After getting to Staten Island, you are transported by bus to a staging area and you wait an additional hour or two there. I was assigned to the Orange Village, aka Grete Waitz Village. To the uninitiated, the staging area would look like a scene from a post-apocalyptic movie. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people lying on the ground, walking around, waiting in lines for port-a-potties, congregating around coffee tables, huddled in a giant tent like emperor penguins... Guys in throw-away jumpsuits and constant PA announcements in 8 different languages perfectly completed the scene. The shock wore off after a while though and I started to enjoy myself. I got some coffee and a bagel. On a regular morning, Dunkin' Donuts' overly sweet bagel would be considered an abomination, but before a marathon it wasn't bad at all. I started to say goodbye to my throwaway clothes one by one and finally faced the cold.

When the time for my wave came I walked to my assigned corral. There was a long line in front of it, so like a good New Yorker I found the end of the line and started to wait. 5 minutes, 10. Chatting with fellow runners. Hey, there goes the second wave! 10 more minutes. 15 more. Hey wait, aren't we supposed to start soon? I don't know how we went wrong, because there were people who seemed to have done the race before (at least they were giving advice like they did), but somehow we missed our corral time while waiting on that line and the marshals wouldn't let us in.

And so kids, this is the story of how I found myself at the very front of the fourth wave! Yes, my start got delayed for 25 minutes and I missed the pace group I was planning to go with; but I got to enjoy the view from the Verrazano-Narrows a bit better. When the Marathon gives you lemons...

Start slow, if you can

My coach, if I had one, would probably recommend going easy the first few miles of the race. This is easier said than done. First of all, I had been waiting in the cold for the last two hours. Not to mention years of anticipation. The last minute change in start order also pumped in some adrenaline. Long story short I was ready to go. We were all ready to go! And then, as if all this is not enough, they fire a freakin' cannon behind you. BOOM went the cannon and off we were singing "New York, New York".

The first mile of the NYC Marathon is also the steepest. You are climbing up the Verrazano-Narrows bridge for an entire mile. On the upside, you have a breathtaking view of the harbor and downtown Manhattan. Mind you this is coming from someone who has been living in NY for 3 years and has seen the city from every imaginable angle. For the first time that day I was kicking myself for not having a camera with me (thanks to Instagram this post has some color).

Second mile poses the complete opposite problem, as you go down that hill you just climbed. Going into Brooklyn I was running at a decent 9:30 pace trying to convince myself to slow down. As we got off the bridge, a band of drummers greeted us. Then a few spectators. I high-fived a couple of kids while turning a corner, first of many that day. And from this point on, the crowds kept growing and growing and growing.

They should have sent a poet

In the movie Contact, one of my favorites, scientist Ellie Arroway (Jodie Foster) is sent to an alien planet through a wormhole. It is so beautiful, so enchanting that she can't find the words to describe it. She says, "They should have sent a poet". Those words sum up my feelings regarding the NYC Marathon spectators.

Running, especially distance running, is hardly a mainstream sport. If you are not a runner yourself, chances are you won't know the names of the top athletes even if they are accomplishing superhuman feats. You won't read an analysis of yesterday's race in the paper and you won't stumble upon a live broadcast of a marathon while flipping through channels. Marathon runners are considered crazy but harmless enthusiasts and left alone to do their thing. Often even by their families.

But for one day in November, we get to star in the biggest show in town. Miles and miles of NY streets are lined with people. 2, 3, 4 deep in places. Some people are there for friends or family; some just to be a part of it. They look in your eyes, they cheer you on. Little kids stretch their little hands for a high-five, grown-ups hold signs that make you laugh for a split second. Old ladies sit out in the cold watching the runners go by. You raise your arms and a whole street erupts in cheer! Even though you are in 35124th place!

Which was the best borough? Can't tell ya'. Staten Island housed us for hours, but we didn't get to thank the locals. The view ahead on Brooklyn's long avenues was amazing. A sea of color moving through the city. In Williamsburg, where streets are narrower, you could almost high five both sides at once. Are you worried about that hill? Walk if you want, but are you ready to disappoint your fans? Queens' three miles started quiet but progressively got crazier as we approached the Queensboro, where my friend Ashley was waiting. I had to high-five her over 4 other people. Manhattan, my home court, and as always the loudest section, was where I saw Courtney and some other friends. Quick high-fives again and promise of beer later. We only spent a mile in The Bronx, but that was enough to reenergize everyone back into Harlem and then Manhattan's famed Fifth Avenue. Cheers from thousands of people mixed with the gorgeous afternoon sunlight washing the Museum Mile carried us all the way back to the Park. And once you get to the Park, as a New York runner, you are home again. I gave the ol' cat a knowing smile and got ready for the victory mile through Plaza Hotel, Central Park South and Columbus Circle. The iconic finish line at The Tavern on The Green was right around the corner as it always is.

As a scientist I rarely get this kind of encouragement. OK, that was a lie, I never get this kind encouragement! After a good presentation I might get a bit of an applause, but that's about it. I must be a natural though, cause I picked it up pretty quickly. I learned to feed off the crowd. I started to feel bad about taking walk breaks. I stuck to the 9:30 pace as long as I could, knowing it would hurt after a few miles. But hey, how often do you get to run the NYC Marathon? And even though my legs started to get tired around mile 10 and started to cramp around mile 15, I was determined to run as much as I could. Going through upper Manhattan and Harlem was really really tough, with both legs cramping, but I knew that I would get a jolt of energy once I got back to the Park. So, I kept at it. Run 100 steps, walk a bit. Run to the water station, walk the hill. Run down Cat Hill. Going through the finish line, I was happy to know that on that day, on this course, with my legs, I had done my best, leaving nothing on the course. And isn't that the point of running a marathon anyway?

Monks draped in orange

Like New York's traffic, New York Marathon's exit is famously congested. It is not easy to move 50000 tired people in a semi-orderly fashion and get them to their bags and families. You get your medal, get your photo taken if you wish, get a mylar sheet and a recovery bag with food inside. After this you join the crowd and start walking towards the exit. Those of us who opted for the "Early Exit" were led towards 77th Street about half a mile from the finish. From here they took us out of the Park and onto Central Park West Avenue, where we were adorned in our famous ponchos! This was the second time I regretted not having a camera, because the view ahead of me, hundreds of runners in bright orange ponchos walking slowly towards the NY city skyline and setting sun was just haunting. Somewhat appropriately we looked like reclusive monks of the running cult. About 45 minutes after the finish, I was reunited with Courtney, ready to walk back home.

The poncho kept me warm, yes, but the greatest unintended feature of this new fashionable apparel was that it marked you as a "runner". So, on the way back, I got maybe ten more "Good job!"s from strangers, blocks away from the finish line. The city after pushing me towards the finish line the whole day, was giving me one last pat on the back.

Wrapped in my poncho

Recovery and future plans

As I said I didn't leave anything on the course on Marathon day and my legs are feeling it now. There are no injuries, but my leg muscles are sore like they have never been before. Every time I get up after sitting for a while, I wince and then smile remembering that great day. I keep repeating that famous marathon sign: "Pain is temporary, pride is forever".

A friend asked if marathoners plan their next race quickly to combat post-marathon depression, which made me think about my future plans. I was planning to run the NYC 60K again, but I think I am going to skip it this year. So far in my running career I have mostly been coasting, finishing races with my stubbornness rather than fitness. Next year I am planning to concentrate on shorter races to get fitter and faster. Develop a good base and miss distance running a bit. I am thinking about doing NYRR's 9+1 plan once again to qualify for 2015. (Did you really think I was going to stop doing this after one time?)

Oh, and, one final thing!

Dear NYRR team, volunteers, police officers, medics, city employees, my fellow runners, friends and spectators; dear New York City: Thank you very very much! You don't know this, but the last year of my life has been pretty hellish. I have been stressed, depressed, discouraged, unhappy and every time I was stressed, depressed, discouraged or unhappy I looked forward to November. NYC Marathon became my light at the end of the tunnel, gave me strength to go through the day. You made that day special for me, gave me memories that will last a whole lifetime and made me love this great city even more. So, from the bottom of my heart Thank You, Thank You, Thank You!

And see you soon!

My bib and medal

Get psyched for the NYC Marathon - Part 3

The Expo!

No further explanation is required for the runners, but for the uninitiated. It is customary nowadays to have a big product fair on the days leading up to a big city marathon. You have to go get your number at this affair and all the shoe/apparel/runner food/physical therapy brands are conveniently located right around the number pickup area. They also bring in running celebrities (i.e. people only familiar to runners, unknown by anyone else) to sign the stuff you just purchased and experts to give you last minute training advice (e.g. Sunday morning speed session, good or bad for your marathon performance?).

A runner at a running expo is like a child at Disneyland. Adult supervision is highly recommended.

Get psyched for the NYC Marathon - Part 2

The second step in our journey to get ready for the race is a book. Written by Liz Robbins, "A Race Like No Other". The book tracks a number of professional and amateur runners mile by mile during the 2007 race. You can read a free sample below and then purchase the book for your Kindle. Or you can check and see if your library has it in stock.

Get psyched for the NYC Marathon - Part 1

Are you getting ready to run the NYC Marathon? Then it is time to get in the mood.

First step is to watch the documentary, "Run For Your Life", which is available on Netflix. The 2008 documentary, by Judd Ehrlich, documents NYRR president and long time NYC Marathon race director Fred Lebow's life. Lebow was at the helm when NYRR became the organization it is now. So, the film is also an indirect history of the NYC Marathon.

A detail about Fred Lebow. He has a statue on 89th Street entrance of the Central Park (Engineer's Gate), where the race enters the Park. However, every year, the statue is transported down to the finish line during the marathon week, so that Fred can watch over the runners as they finish.

5 reasons to see the NYC marathon live

The NYC Marathon is next Sunday and here's why you should come out and see it live:

- To be entertained: NYRR knows how to throw a party. There will be 130 bands along the course, like this one and this one and this other one. Walk around a bit and you will find something to your liking. If music isn't your thing, runners in costume aren't bad either.

- To see the elites: Running is one of the few sports where you can see the top athletes up close without paying an arm and a leg. As always, NYRR recruited top talent for the 2013 race. The field includes 2012 Men's Olympic Marathon champion Stephen Kiprotich, 2012 Women's Olympic Marathon runner-up Priscah Jeptoo, 2011 and 2013 Women's Marathon World champion Edna Kiplagat, past NYC champions and top finishers (Geoffrey Mutai, Meb Keflezghi, Firehiwot Dado, Buzunesh Deba, Jelena Prokopcuka, Kim Smith) and many many other fast athletes. In addition to the prize money, there is a $500K World Marathon Majors title at stake, so you know they will be at the top of their game. Appreciate away!

- To be inspired: Right behind the elites (a little or somewhat further behind depending on your mile marker of choice), you will see 48000 or so amateurs. They won't be as fast or fit, but they will have amazing stories. Look at their faces. Again, depending on where you are you might see excitement (miles 1-5), joy (5-15), exhaustion (15-25) and joy again (25 to finish)! The last one is by far the best. So, go to Central Park. Watch the runners as they barrel down the Cat Hill, pass by the Plaza Hotel or make the last turn into the Park on Columbus Circle. Warning: This exercise, even watching this video, might result in desire to run the race. Don't fight it.

- To inspire: NYC Marathon is an audience participation game. As the official tagline says: "26.2 miles make it a race, you make it a marathon". Those 48000 runners... They have been working towards, planning for and dreaming of this day for a while and they need your help. New Yorkers of all 5-boroughs, who come out to watch the festivities and cheer all day long make the race the special event it is. Go ahead, take a spot on the sidewalk. Give a high-five to a struggling runner. Throw a "You're lookin' good!". If you have time, feel free to prepare one o' them funny marathon signs. It will put a smile on a runners face and might make you an Internet celebrity.

And finally,
- To be a part of it: New York is the definition of a big city. There are very few events that bring us together as a community and vast majority of them are negative. The Marathon is that rare positive event that transforms the whole city into a quirky small town where strangers smile at each other and cheer for other strangers. In shorts. Whatever you felt the day before, you can't help but love the city on Marathon morning. You can't help but feel you are a part of it. That was the goal of the 5-borough marathon when it started in the 70s and I bet Fred Lebow would be proud if he could see it today. Come on, join the tradition!

My fellow runners, good luck! The following video is for you. See you at the start line!

Ted Corbitt 24 hour run - Report

I participated in 16 hours of a 24-hour run (Ted Corbitt 24-hour run in Queens,NY) last weekend. I was aiming to go for 80 miles, but had to stop due to an IT band injury, worsening blisters under my foot and loss of the mental battle. Even though I didn't hit my target, it was a great experience.

Juniper Valley Park. I passed by this playground 48 times.

Since this was my first 24-hour, I was careful about preparing. I charged all my electronics, stocked up on food, prepared my shirts, shorts, nip-guards and what have ya'. With my bag ready, I had a good night sleep and got up early. After a quick breakfast, I got on the way. Aaand as soon as I got on the subway, I realized that I forgot my Garmin home! Way to be prepared, right? This actually turned out to be a blessing in disguise, but we'll get to that.

After an adventurous journey (sometimes they shutdown subways and Google doesn't always know and it tells you to take a route and then you are kinda stuck. Thankfully, there was a shuttle bus to bridge the subway gap and fortunately I had left early), I got to the race start. The start area had a very strong community feel. Most of the participants were long time members of the NY distance running community. Hence, there were a lot of: "Do you remember that race we did in '87, where Ted wouldn't let us stop running" type of stories. I just kept quiet and listened, wishing someone was there to take notes and write a book.

Before the start there was a little ceremony to remember Ted Corbitt and Sri Chimnoy, two distance running greats of the NY area. The Sri Chimnoy Marathon team was there to send us on our way with a song (that Chimnoy wrote for Corbitt) and provide a water stop midway through the 1.2 mile loop.

I started slowly. I don't know how slow, because as I said, I didn't have my Garmin, but I definitely didn't feel the need. I was keeping a conversational pace, without taking risks. I found the mostly flat loop to be a great help in this. In comparison, it is very hard to keep a good pace during Knickerbocker 60K due to constant up and downhills.

A sign like this could have explained what we were up to

I was calculating my pace based on my lap times and including the breaks I was around 11-12 min/mile pace for the first few hours. As the hours passed, the weather got warmer and the park started to get crowded. Come to think of it, it might have been useful to have one of those "What's Going On Here?" signs (they put these around NYC to inform people about ongoing construction work). I tried to explain some people what we were doing. Some wished me good luck, but some people just wouldn't accept it ("What do you mean a 24-hour run!"). So, when a group of teenage girls giggled and asked ("Are you guys running a marathon?"), I responded, "Something like that".

Around 4PM, 6 hours into the race, Courtney came to visit me. She did a couple of laps with me, which was very helpful. After she left, I was on my own again. I was still running but definitely getting tired. I decided to run/walk until 6PM (8 hours). I calculated that I could finish 35 miles by then. Assuming a very slow 20min/mile for the remaining 16 hours, I would still get 48 more miles to get to 83 miles total. At this point, my IT band and the blister under my foot were already starting to cause trouble.

As planned, after eating the race provided pasta at 8 hours I switched to a total walk strategy, hoping to cover some miles while resting and restarting running at a later point. I was doing decent walking pace (15-16 min/mile) and churning the miles down.

Then, the sun went away. And with the sun all the people in the park. The runners were spread out (there was about 50 of us to begin with anyway). So, things became really really quiet. At this point I could have really used my MP3 player, but it just wouldn't start. So, I kept chugging along, but I was slowly losing the mental battle. I became obsessed with the number of laps I had left. I kept calculating and calculating and calculating in my head. "I need 30 more laps, if I do one lap in 20 minutes, I finish at 7AM; if I finish a mile in 20 minutes, I finish at 8AM; but if I spent this much time in the break zone...." and then "I have 29 laps left...." etc. You get the point. I started to get seriously demoralized as the hours passed. My leg was starting to hurt pretty badly. I tried running, but I couldn't. I was imagining a stress fracture building up and forcing me to postpone my spot in the NYC Marathon.

I got coffee, rested a few minutes, did another lap. Rested some more, caught up with someone, did some more laps with them. I brought the number down to 20 laps or so for my target. My MP3 player started to work, but I wasn't enjoying my podcasts. I wasn't even listening to them. My brain was obsessed with numbers. Finally, with 17 more laps to go and more than 8 hours left, I decided to take a long break. Even nap a bit. Another big prep mistake right there, I didn't have long pants, a sleeping bag or a chair to sit on. As soon as I stopped my body temperature started to fall. I was shivering and I couldn't convince myself to walk another step. Besides, there were rats size of Dachsunds running around the park and I didn't want to get eaten by one during sleep. (on the upside, the little buggers provided quite a nice adrenaline jolt while we were on the course)

Escalator of Doom!

Finally, around 2AM, I decided to head back home. My knee barely bending, my blisters hurting full force. I was thinking about calling a cab, but the race director and one of the volunteers kindly drove me to the Subway stop. I was expecting an R train, an E showed up, I got on. Barely staying awake! Of course the escalator on the subway wasn't working. So, I dragged my injured knee, my rather large body and my giant bag of supplies (funny it didn't feel so heavy 16 hours ago) up the stairs. As you can see in the picture to the left it is the world's longest escalator! (don't quote me on that)

I got home around 3AM. Bruised and battered. I was a bit disappointed not to have hit my target, but I was happy to be home.

After a good sleep (Courtney considered checking if I was still alive, since I was still in bed at 9:30. Inconceivable!) I started to take account of my situation. I had just ran/walked almost 60 miles and stayed on the course for 16 hours, nearly doubling the longest distance and time I have done in a race. Bending my right knee was painful, but for some reason I wasn't worried about that. I had IT band injury before and it goes away with rest. I noticed some additional blisters that I didn't feel the night before, but those are also easily treatable. Aaand of course I was hungry! My stomach behaved really well the day before allowing me to fuel sufficiently, but I was hungry nonetheless. I estimate that I burned about 6000-7000 calories on the course and probably took in 3000-4000.

The walk to the diner for breakfast painful initially, but as I warmed up my legs loosened. I kept limping around the house the next couple of days, but by Tuesday I was already back to a decent walking speed. I even jogged to catch some traffic lights. As I write this report on Thursday, my knee is almost 100%, the blisters are gone and my energy levels have mostly recovered (no more naps!). Amazingly there is no DOMS (delayed onset muscle soreness). I don't know why this is, but I assume it is because I didn't run fast.

And that brings us to the most important lesson I got out of this experience. The reasons that limit performance in a long race like this are very different than those in a shorter race, even a marathon. It is not glycogen depletion or muscle tiredness; it is mental depletion and little problems that get out of hand (like a blister). So, having a crew or running buddies, especially in the dark hours of the night would have helped tremendously. I also need to learn to get myself out of the "depressive" cycle and concentrate on the task at hand. As for blisters, I don't know what to do about those. Better shoes or socks? Any suggestions?

I'll admit going into a 24-hour run without much prep wasn't the best idea I had (don't ask, work just got crazy), but I think it still turned out OK. At least, next time I line up for one of these, I won't be the rookie!

Walking fast in Manhattan

Today I attempted to solve a walking related question that has been bugging me for a while. 

Let me give a bit of background and then I will get to the question: 

For those of you, who haven't been to NYC before, one of the prominent features of the city is the long North-South avenues. These start in Harlem and go all the way downtown. Numbered streets cross the avenues at constant intervals.

Traffic on most North-South avenues flows in one direction, uptown-bound (North) or downtown-bound (South). Traffic lights on these avenues are set to switch in a wave rather than synchronously to minimize interruptions. Once you catch a green light, you ride the wave and as long as you can keep a certain speed, you travel a good number of blocks before seeing a red light (it is a whole different story if someone hails a cab in front of you, but we are not dealing with that here).

Of course the lag between the lights is optimized for car speed. If you are a slow-moving pedestrian, riding the wave is not a realistic option. You will unavoidably hit the red lights more often, because the wave will be long gone by the time you get to the next light. Unless you are slow enough that the next wave comes and catches you. As a pedestrian you also have the option to walk against the traffic (on the sidewalk, of course) and there might actually be a case where this is the best option.

So, here is the question that formed in my mind during a 40 block walk: Assuming the red light is on for X seconds, the green light is on for Y seconds, there is a Z second lag between traffic lights and you are walking at P pace which direction should you walk in, with the traffic or against the traffic?

To be able to change variables and get a list of ETAs for different paces, I wrote a simulator using PHP. It basically advances from light to light, calculates the time, determines if the light is red or green and calculates how long the total trip will take. I tested the numbers it turned up to see if there are any bugs. I couldn't find any, but if you think there is a mistake, let me know.

In this first blog post I will keep the light variables constant. I am not patient enough to wait at the corner with a stopwatch and measure how long it takes for the light to switch, so in order to get a rough idea, I counted seconds in my head while walking. Based on this highly unscientific measure, red and green lights each are about 45 seconds. There is a 5 second blinking red light period, which I lumped with the green, because the NYers treat it so. The lag between two lights is about 5 seconds. 20 Manhattan blocks make up 1 mile and that is my assumed trip distance.

The numbers can be seen on this table below. You have your speed, your pace on the left and total trip time, red lights hit and total wait time if you go with the traffic or against the traffic on the right.

As you see, for car-like speeds going with the traffic is much faster than against (and safer, if I may add). The slowest speed where going against the traffic becomes advantageous is 6 min/mile. However, the window there is pretty small. You have to hit a 6-6.5 min/mile pace consistently. The 11-18 min/mile pace range, which most regular human beings fall into, is divided into two. If you are on the faster end of the spectrum (ehem!), walking against the traffic saves about 20 percent; if not, it can be disastrous.  

Whichever way you are traveling, one interesting outcome is that there are vast speed ranges, where walking faster doesn't get you to your destination quicker. In fact, if you attempt such a North-South walk in Manhattan you will end up passing some people only to see them again at the next traffic light. It is very uncomfortable until one of you turns to a side street. (a little note here. These numbers are equal, because you come to a red light at the end of the last segment and you wait to cross it. If you ignore that red light, there are very small differences, because you traveled the distance between the last two lights faster.)

If I can get a chance, I would like to test different light lags to see what value would be the best to speed up pedestrian traffic. That will be the next post. Until then, walk carefully and let me know about your results if you give this a try.

Traffic light photo from Fotopedia.

5 reasons to hire a marathoner

Yes, it is hard to keep the snack table stocked in the presence of a marathoner and yes, we tend to talk about running a lot; but once you get past that, having a marathoner is a wonderful addition to your team. Here's why:

1) Fewer sick days:
Looking at the scientific evidence, one still can't clearly state that exercise boosts your immune system. However, it is highly likely that if you are not overdoing it (i.e. you are not an elite athlete, training for the Olympics), it gives you a leg up. Additionally, runners tend to be more careful not to catch a cold, because if you are sick you can't run and guess who hates not running. The bottom line is, runners lose less office days due to sickness.

Long-term positive effects of running are clearer. It helps you maintain body weight and fends off heart problems and expensive diseases like diabetes. Result? Less health problems, less days lost, happier employees, cheaper health insurance.

2) Mental resolve and adaptability:
Your standard marathoner will do at least one 20-mile run. Not to mention all the other 15+ milers in the season. If we are lucky, we get to do 10% of these in ideal conditions. Optimum weather, enough free time, perfect nutrition. The other 90% of the time we are battling heat waves or snowstorms, nursing an injury or trying to keep food down. Over time runners develop tolerance to challenge. We don't panic when we see a problem, we tackle it. When things don't go the way we planned, we adapt.

3) Runner's Serenity:
I am sure you heard of "runner's high". It is that moment when happy hormones and glucose depletion kick the brain into a state where no negative emotions exist. After the run, the runner becomes a serene creature, which filters in to our professional life.

4) Thinking time:
Humanity created only limited amount of music, audiobooks and podcasts for the runners to consume on the run. At one point or another, we run out of things to occupy our mind, or just get plain sick of it (How many times can you listen to "Gonna Fly Now" anyway). That leaves us lots of free time to think about our work.

5) Running is contagious: 
What did you say? You hired a marathoner and now you want more? Good news, it is contagious! Your newly acquired marathoner will convert your existing employees. They won't all become marathoners all of a sudden, but I can safely say that you will be able to field a team for your local "Corporate Challenge".

A colorful day in Meadowlands

My girlfriend Courtney does not enjoy running. So, imagine my surprise and excitement when she suggested to do a race together. My initial elation dissipated a bit once I learned that it was a color run, but how could I miss an opportunity to convert a non-runner!

I am staunchly undecided on the subject of for-profit "theme" races. On one hand they introduce new people to the sport. New people, who find running boring and never would have tried a race. On the other hand, commercialization tends to get out of hand and entertainment gets ahead of running.

The 5K race Courtney and I signed up for was one of the Color Me Rad series. They are similar to the Color Run events. You run a 5K and people throw colored dust at you. To avoid any kind of pressure, the run is not timed.

Race planning is a details business. Especially, if you are selling it and emphasizing the entertainment value. Unfortunately, Color Me Rad folks are far from mastering it. To begin with, for this NY/NJ race, they limited packet pickup to a Sports Authority store in NJ, near Meadowlands. So, like many of our car-less NY'er brethren, we had to make our way to NJ on public transport, about 1 hour each way. The packet pickup was uneventful. Just a lot of product placement and merchandising. Yay, profits!!!

Getting to NJ on Saturday was inconvenient, getting there Sunday morning was almost impossible. There were no trains, no shuttles and a single bus line that ran once an hour! We lined up at the stop, but the bus was full before we (and dozens of other runners) could get on. We waited some more. Our bus didn't come, but a different one came. Of course this wasn't going to the event. The bus driver dropped us at the closest point, which required about a mile of walking by the highway. It was a funny sight really. 100 people in white shirts, walking single file.

We got to the event 10 minutes before our assigned "wave" time, but there were no waves really. You just lined up at the start, some guy counted down, someone else doused you with painted liquids or powder and off you go! Of course with blaring music in the background.

The course was set in the parking lot of the Metlife Stadium. Thus died my dream of running inside the stadium too. To cover the 5K distance, organizers created a zig-zagging course with "color" zones every mile or so. The bare, lonely parking lot and dust coming from the color zones made the course look like a set from a post-apocalyptic movie. On second thought this was actually a good opportunity to play Zombies, Run!.

Going back to Manhattan was even harder than getting to the stadium. The once-an-hour bus showed up after an hour of waiting. Already full. So, we couldn't get on. We ended up calling a cab and making a cabbie really happy with a $60 fare (+tunnel toll) for 20 minutes of driving.

All in all, this was a pretty bad race experience. I get the concept and I see how it can be enjoyable if organized well. This race, unfortunately, was not. My suggestion is, treat for-profit races like any other business. Check the reviews before you go. My suggestion for the NY/NJ Color Me Rad folks is, get a shuttle bus and find a better course.

Let's go hiking!

I wanted to get away from the city for a week. I decided to go to Killington, VT; which is a well known ski resort. I was initially just looking for peace and quiet, but when I realized that Killington is also a destination for hikers and is on the path of The Appalachian Trail, hiking became the primary goal.

View from the Killington Peak

The Appalachian Trail is a 2180 mile mountain footpath that goes from Maine to Georgia and there are people who do this hike end to end (about 700 completed the journey in 2011). They are called the 2000-milers (I highly recommend the website. There is a whole subculture to be explored). The fastest known time is 46 days and change and belongs to Pharr Davis.

The trail crosses Highway 4 near Killington. I decided to walk south one day and north the second. As I said Killington is primarily a ski resort and things are quiet over the summer, but some stores are open and most importantly, The Bus (yep, that is what it is called) that runs between the nearby city of Rutland, resort hotels in Killington and the trailhead is operational. So, you don't need a car to get to the trail from your hotel.

White blazes show you the trail

Southbound hike on the AT took me all the way to the Killington peak, which is a bit over 4000 feet. It required 2000 feet of climb and took me 6 hours round trip, but as you can see in the above panoramic picture, the view was breathtaking (Google+ did the panorama automatically by the way, which I think is a useful feature).

You might think, how am I going to follow the trail. How do I know that I am not going in the wrong direction? To be honest, I was worried about that too. My outdoor skills are low to none. My girlfriend, in fact, was sure that I would get lost and die (she always worries about that though). As it turns out, my worries were mostly unnecessary. First of all, the trail doesn't have too many branches. If you step in the wrong direction, you would notice it from the terrain. Also, the Appalachian Trail is marked by white blazes on trees at regular intervals. So, as long as you see the blazes, you are going the right way. Using the blazes (some side trails have blue or yellow blazes) and a map I got from the Killington Chamber of Commerce, I was able to easily determine my direction.

Kent Pond

My hike on the north direction was shorter and easier. The only complicating factor was the rain, since the rocks got slippery, but even the rain was enjoyable in the woods! This one took me to the Kent Pond, pictured on the right here.

If you are a seasoned hiking enthusiast or even a novice like myself, Killington is a great place to visit. People are friendly and they are ready to help the hikers, point you in the right direction, offer you food.

On a personal note, the AT is on my bucket list now. I don't think I can find 4-5 months of free time and the money, but I can dream, can't I!

How to survive your first trail race

I recently experienced my first real distance race on trails. As you can see from the report, like every first-timer, I made some mistakes and suffered from them. Here's what I learned:

Make sure everything is in working order: If you get injured during a road race, you rarely have to limp more than 10 steps. There will be police, volunteers and spectators right there to help you, not to mention your fellow runners. On the trails, you are pretty much alone between aid stations. Especially as a back-packer, you may not see another runner pass for minutes.

Don't aim for time, aim to finish: Trail running is fundamentally different from road running. I talked to some other runners during and after the race. Even those with multiple marathons under their belt had a tough day. So, unless you are an accomplished, well above-average runner, don't pick a time target for this one. Just take it easy. Don't worry, the trail will throw some curve balls to provide the challenge you crave.

And it goes without saying, don't worry about having to walk. Most ultrarunners do.

Do specific training: Just like you would adapt to specific conditions of your road race, like elevation or temperature; you need to adapt to trail running before a trail race. This is not easy if you live in a big city, but there is no other way to replicate what awaits you (trail treadmill? Waaait a minute! I think I got an idea!). Buy your trail running shoes early on and do some decent long runs on trails similar to your target in terms of elevation change, technicality etc.

Once you are comfortable on the trails, it is a good idea to run the race course. Every trail is different and knowing what is about to come is helpful mentally and physically. You can read the course guide all you want, but that will only give a vague idea about how runnable different sections are or how steep the hills are going to be. For example, I thought the second half of my race would be easier than the first, because it trended downhill. To my surprise, the second half was still littered with significant climbs.

If you are doing bulk of your training on the roads, train for time rather than distance. Your longest run for marathon training doesn't have to be 20 miles. Estimate how long the race would take you to finish and do a few training runs that go near that (75-80%). The goal is to spend time on your feet and see how your core reacts. In my case, the NYC 60K races I did were the perfect training.

As for estimating your time. It depends on trail conditions. Here's what I did: Check the results from the year before. See how long it took the winner. In my case it was about 4 hours for the marathon. Since a road marathon takes about 2 hours for the winners, you need to double your time. This is very ballpark, but it helps. Another way to go would be to look at where the mid-pack finishes. If you are regularly a mid-packer, you know that is where you will be (maybe a bit behind, since trail races seem to attract a fitter crowd).

Run with a buddy: A running partner is always helpful in distance training. Take it one step further for your trail race and convince your training partner to run with you. One of you may have to settle for a slower time than their potential, but chances are you will both have a better time. Also, if one of you gets injured, the other one can get help.

If you can't convince any of your friends, try to stay close to other runners. If they are looking for a buddy they will probably let you know.

Carry extra food and water: I ran the race with a regular 32oz handheld water bottle. If it were a normal day, it might have been enough. However, it was a hot day and my bottle was dry midway through most sections. There won't be aid stations at every mile, so definitely get more water, especially if it's hot.

Some runners prefer to carry the handhelds, so that they have something to break their fall, if that happens. However, I recommend getting a Camelbak. You may need your hands free in certain sections.

Long story short, it all boils down to: "Safety first!". I hope I didn't scare you too much, but it is good to be cautious going into one of these. 

I hope these tips help. Let me know how it goes and comment if you have additional tips!

Ultrarunning. An absurd sport.

Beautiful trail in Bear Mountain area

I don't consider myself an ultrarunner. In fact, I only recently started to tell people that I am a "runner". Still though, I have run some ultra races and plan to do more. More importantly I feel attached to the sport and the community. So, I felt the urge to comment on this Slate article. 

The piece is about Scott Jurek. The title is benign enough: "What Are Extreme Runners Thinking?". But the following line tells you how the rest is going to go: "The addicts, obsessives, pain seekers, and euphoria nuts who choose to race 100 miles." Really? 

The author begins with a description of Jurek's suffering during races and goes right into this: "Distance running has a long history of attracting addicts, obsessive personalities, the hopelessly selfish, those who endured tough childhoods, or any combination thereof." She uses Jurek's background as an example. The narrative peaks shortly thereafter: "You might think that such an absurd sport attracts only absurd people." She turns slightly positive later, but the overall message I got was that if you run ultras, there has to be something wrong with you.

Let's start with Scott Jurek. He happens to be an elite athlete. One of the best, in fact. And like every world-class athlete in any sport, he will push himself harder than anyone else. It doesn't mean every ultrarunner is willing to experience same level of discomfort.

As for ultrarunning being an "absurd" sport, which according to Merriam-Webster means "having no rational or orderly relationship to human life". In a world fortunate enough to enjoy pastimes like baseball, basketball, football and soccer, I find it hard to believe that running is the one that doesn't have a relationship to human life. I mean there's golf for cryin' out loud! Our ancestors ran. People outside the modern world still run quite a bit.

I think (I hope!) the "ultrarunners are crazy" chatter is just a phase. The marathon became popular, because some guy named Pietri almost died while finishing the 1908 Olympic race. People thought it was lethal. Later we learned that you are supposed to eat and drink on your way and now finisher numbers are in the millions. Women were not allowed to run the distance, now there are exclusive races! 

Remember that there is nothing magical about the marathon distance. The distance between Marathon and Athens was 25 miles. That is why a marathon is as long as it is (we run about a mile longer, because someone wanted to watch the start, but don't get me started on that!). Once you start running, you can progress to the marathon distance and going further is just the next step.

One final note. In 5 days, 20000 people are going to run a 55-mile race in South Africa. I don't think they all had family problems. And there is nothing absurd about them.

NorthFace Endurance Challenge - Bear Mountain, NY - 2013

There are many in the running community who love a good challenge and I am one of them. Last November, after finishing my second road 60K, I decided that the time had come to try a 50-miler. This also meant a move to the trails I kept hearing about on ultrarunning podcasts.

After a long search, I settled on the NorthFace Endurance Challenge at Bear Mountain, NY. With some reluctance. The website said it was OK for trail runners of every level, while at the same time rating it 5 out of  5 for difficulty. Race reports from previous years are filled with stories of horrific "spills". I wanted the challenge, but I also didn't want to try a trail that would be too hard for a beginner, fail miserably or even break something.

Then, on an impulse, I went ahead and signed up for their 50-miler. Initially. After doing some more reading and listening to my girlfriend Courtney's suggestions, I changed my signup to the marathon distance, which in addition to the classic 26.2 miles and the 5 out of 5 "technical trail", entails 4400 feet of climb and since what has gone up somehow has to come down, 4400 feet of descent. I planned to be safe and run what I could, hike when it got rough.

Pre-Race: The One Where We Drive to Bear Mountain and I Get Nervous

I was up at 4 the race morning. Even though Bear Mountain is only an hour away from the city and the race didn't start until 9, I made Courtney get up and out of the house by 5:30. What can I say, I am impatient when there is a race involved. On the way over, we watched the sunrise from the State Line Lookout, hunted for coffee (Diet Coke for Courtney) in a small town called Stony Point and still got to the park with plenty of time to spare. The mood was jolly on the yellow school bus that took us from the parking lot to the Start-Finish line: "50-milers, they are the crazy folk, we are just doing the marathon!" said someone.

Sunrise from State Line Lookout Park between NJ and NY

Waiting at the start line, my jovial mood turned to nervous. Everyone around me seemed to know what they were doing. They were fit, well equipped and ready to go. I, on the other hand, had slacked on my training (just one road 20-miler, no trail runs) and worn my new trail shoes for a grand total of three miles (I believe some of my friends were taking bets on the number of blisters I would get). Chewing on a couple of Clif Shot blocks offered from the race (my only breakfast that morning), I started to think I got myself into some real trouble this time.

Stage 1: The One Where We Meet The Trail
Distance: 3.9 miles

Background music: Are you ready for this? (Nope!)

Minutes rolled down and we were called to the start line. After a short speech by the Ultramarathon Man Dean Karnazes (I honestly don't remember what he said, nerves were running high) and a moment of silence for Boston, we headed out on our adventure! 

The first stage was short. 3.9 miles of warm-up. After a half mile or so of decent trail, it started to get rocky, yet still runnable. I had a few close calls with my ankles. They rolled the wrong way and gave me a scare. By the end of the stage they were all warmed up and loosened.

Small rocks!

Courtney was at the first aid station at my request, because I wasn't sure about my handheld water bottle. I usually don't run with one and I thought it might annoy me. Holding on to it seemed like an insignificant decision at the time, but had I left that bottle, this report would have been about my first DNF and the cute German-Shepherd dog that pulled me out of a ditch. 

Stage 2: The One Where We Lose The Trail and It Gets Hot
Distance: 4.7 miles

Background music: Ain't No Mountain High Enough 

After the Anthony Wayne stop, the hills started to get steeper, the rocks started to get bigger and the air started to get warmer. Oh yes, as if the trail wasn't enough, we also had the opportunity to test our heat adaptation and limits of dehydration. The day's high was a sunny 73F (23C). Ironically, the announcer at the start line was very enthusiastic about the warm weather. Apparently, the last race of the Endurance Challenge series last year was under heavy rain and it wasn't pleasant. Don't get me wrong, I am glad that it didn't rain. Those rocks were bad enough without our feet slipping all around. But some cloud cover would have been nice. Still though, my legs were fresh, the trail was exciting and I kept chugging along.

Big rocks!

Until, all of a sudden, the trail vanished! Another runner had gone the wrong way and was coming back. We looked around together for the markings and found the right trail. But the direction we were supposed to be heading didn't make sense. We were looking at a very steep stairway made of rocks. Apparently, "trail" sometimes means climbing down rocks. I put my hands on the ground, climbed down very carefully, hoping it won't get worse.

It got worse.

Stage 3: The One Where We Rock Climb and I Consider Dropping Out

Distance: 5.3 miles
Background music: Verdi - Requiem, Dies irae (just seemed appropriate)

A fellow runner who was familiar with the trail said Stage 3 would be bad. She wasn't lying. After a few miles of semi-decent rocky terrain and small hills, the trail headed upwards again. I kept reminding myself that the second half is downhill. "Just get over this part and you are done". But the climbs just wouldn't end. The highlight was when we climbed up a rock formation to the West Mountain Shelter and then down on the other side. The view was phenomenal, but going up and down that thing on cramping legs was a bit scary.

West Mountain Shelter

My eyes were glued to my watch during this whole stage. I was counting down to the halfway point (13.1) and then to the next aid station (13.9). I passed 13.1 in a bit over 3 hours (for comparison, my road half marathon PB is about 2 hours). I was starting to get mentally tired from the need for constant concentration on the trail. On the road it is easy to forget you are running and look around, enjoy the view. On this race I had to keep my head down all the time so that I didn't land on a rock in a bad way or took a tumble down a hill. The upside is I didn't need music to occupy my mind. Downside, I got a pretty bad sunburn on the back of my neck.

As for my physical status; my legs were cramping, my core was banged up from all that running and hiking on uneven ground, my water bottle was empty and I was dehydrated.

13.2... 13.3... 13.4... OK, only half a mile... Let's run a bit. ANOTHER HILL!!!!
13.5... 13.6... 13.7... Weird, I am pretty close to the aid station, but I don't hear anything.
13.8... 13.9... Is it behind this turn? Why can't I hear them! Is there even an aid station?

There was no aid station at Mile 13.9, where I was expecting it to be. Neither at 14 nor at 14.1. I asked a hiker coming my way "Is there an aid station back there?", "Not until the road" he said, crushing me further. And then came one more hill.

That was the breaking moment for me. In the middle of that hill. Too far from civilization, an unknown distance from the next aid station, completely out of water and severely dehydrated. I leaned on a tree. I looked back, there was another runner struggling on the bottom of the hill. No one else. I didn't have the strength to go up. If you get out of breath while running, you can slow down. What do you do if you can't even walk? I couldn't drop out of the race even if I wanted to. I had to get to the aid station. Can they even carry me out of here?

Slowly, I managed to pull myself up and over that hill. I first heard the road and then saw a volunteer pointing towards the aid station. My watch was showing 14.55, actual mileage was 13.9. My Garmin, which had been dead accurate until that moment was lying to me! I didn't care. I just wanted water.

Stage 4: The One Where I Make Friends and Learn Downhill Can Hurt As Well
Distance: 7.0 miles
Background music: I'll Be There For You

I binged at the third aid station. Water, electrolytes, boiling Pepsi. Whatever they had, I consumed. Courtney already thinks I am a ferocious eating machine, good thing she didn't see this little display. As a result, my stomach was very unhappy starting Stage 4. This meant I had to walk the beautifully runnable (sprintable even!) downhill asphalt section. About half a mile into the stage I was still thinking about heading back and dropping out. I also started to worry about time. The race had an 8 hour cut-off, which comes to about 18 min/mile pace. Not a problem under normal conditions, but my average speed was dropping fast in the uphills. I really wanted my "finisher" medal and I didn't know if I would get one if I missed the cut-off!

Had to take a picture of this!

Then things got slightly better for the first time. Downhills started to follow uphills. Still rocky and painful, but at least not as depleting. My blood sugar started to normalize. I caught up to some other runners and we formed a little pack on the single track trail. It is amazing how helpful a pair of running buddies can be. As the trail conditions got better, I was able to walk my regular 13-14 min/miles and even run for short stretches. I started to gain on the 8 hour cut-off. My worries of missing the medal started to disappear. I didn't want to push too far though, because I didn't know how much I needed to save for the last stage.

First aid station doubled as the fourth aid station. It was right by the parking lot, so there were people cheering us on. I jogged into the aid station as if I was killing it.

Stage 5: The One Where We Celebrate, Prematurely!
Distance: 5.3 miles

Background music: Sloop John B (mostly the "I wanna go home!" part of it)

Starting the last stage I was pretty sure that I would get back home under 8 hours. It was a short segment, I had a lot of spare time and the course guidebook made it sound like a piece o' cake. I had been fooled before, so I asked a volunteer before heading out: "How bad is it after here?". She said "I know it is 5 miles and hopefully you will get some shade in there, but I don't know about the trail conditions." That should have been my clue.

The last stage started with a climb again. I was feeling somewhat better, so I tried to run as much as I could. I caught up to some runners I had been seeing all day. We finally exchanged names and ran in a little pack for a while. They pulled away, I joined two other runners who caught up to me. The stage wasn't easy at all. Yes, it "trended" downhill after a decent climb, as promised, but those sections were still pretty rocky.

As we approached the finish, I started to get impatient. A hill, another one, some more rocks, scary downhill.. Are we there yet? I intended to finish the race with the other two runners I was walking with, but I involuntarily started to speed up and drift away from them. Finally, I overheard a pacer yell to his 50-mile runner: "You see that tunnel bro, it is right after that". I saw the tunnel, I started running. I didn't have much at that point, but I got myself up to a slow trot.

As promised, the finish line was looking at me after the tunnel. The final 100-yards on grass felt like heaven. I passed the finish line with a huge grin at 7:50:59.

Got my medal!!!

Post-Race: The One With Recovery and Reminiscence

There were two kinds of people at the finish line: The supporters and the waddlers. It was quite a funny sight actually. These people trying to go from recovery area to bag check, from bag check to food court, from food court to beer garden like a bunch of warm weather penguins with medals around their neck.

After I recovered a bit, we got back on the bus. Common opinions were "rocks suck" and "never again". When I mentioned to the lady next to me that for the first time I considered dropping out of a race she said "I've done 33 marathons, 5 Ironmans and this was the one (the 50K race) that almost broke me. I tried to drop out at mile 25, but the guy just wouldn't let me!". Yet 2 mintues later we were once again discussing what race to run next.

We were staying at the race headquarter hotel. When we got there the receptionist asked if we were coming from the race. I said "yes!". She asked if I was running again tomorrow. I smiled. That evening and the next morning we saw many runners waddling around the hotel. Each time we gave each other a knowing smile and asked: "So, which one did you run?".

Epilogue:
Now that about a week has passed, my legs mostly healed and my blister is gone (yep, only a single blister!), it is time to answer a question that is often asked: Why? Well, why does anyone do anything? Because I like it. I like the challenge. I don't like the pain, but I like the sense of accomplishment at the end of the pain. I like that I faced complete depletion and found the strength to go on. I like that for those few hours, I had no other problems in life, nothing else mattered. I like being with other runners, I like the camaraderie. And finally, to quote another runner, I like that "It was just a bad-ass thing to do!".

Sometimes you just have to run.

I don't have much to say about Boston really. Everything has been said and I have nothing to add.

In response to all the madness, NYC running community and runners everywhere did what we do best. We went out and ran. 

The run I joined was NYRR's "Run For The Parks" 4-miler. Most of the 6000 or so runners were wearing their "I Run For Boston" T-shirts and bibs, prepared in the week following the Boston Marathon. Moment of silence was followed by the National Anthem, sang by a transplant from Boston to NY. She was clearly very emotional and had a hard time finishing, but she did and got a grand round of cheer from the crowd. Then we went off, with "Sweet Caroline", of course.

Marathons and running in general has been on the news for all the wrong reasons lately. I hope we can get back to normal soon.

If you would like to help those, who were affected by the bombings, here's how:

- You can donate directly to The One Fund Boston.

- You can buy an "I Run For Boston" T-shirt from NYRR.

- And of course go out and run!

I Run For Boston tech T-shirt.

4 miles in Brooklyn

I am not a big fan of short races. 1-milers, 5Ks, 4-milers, even 10Ks. Going into one of these I know that I will go out too fast and will finish gasping for air. Saturday's Al Gordon Classic in Brooklyn's Prospect Park wasn't different.

Why, one might ask, have I signed up for a 4-miler, if I hate them so much. Because I missed racing, OK? I only ran a few races last year, because I didn't have to do the 9+1. However, a few hours after watching the Manhattan Half this January, I was browsing the NYRR site looking for a race. Al Gordon Classic was the earliest available.

I had run in Prospect Park only once before this race. It is smaller than Central Park, but still provides a 4-mile course without any repeats or out and back sections. Prospect course is definitely the easier of the two. The only major hill is not even comparable to the Cat Hill, which you have to climb in Central Park 4-milers.

As the race day approached, I started to worry about my lack of speed. I haven't done any consistent training lately, let alone tempo or speedwork. Whatever training I did was geared towards long steady running for ultra distances. I am also somewhat heavier now than 2 years ago, when I ran my 4-mile PR. After a battle between my ego and common sense, I decided to try for 35 minutes.

It felt great to be at the start line again early Saturday morning. I was right there, with my people, the mid-packers! Of course my people were probably doing their training and the time that got me in there was two years old, but who cares, I was there!

As the gun went off (the airhorn to be more precise) and we poured onto the road I once again remembered why I didn't like short races. The huffing and the puffing started way early this time. I got into the flow, wondering if I could keep up. To my disappointment, Prospect Park turned out to be a bit tougher than I remembered. There are some rolling hills that give you a bit of trouble. Still though, I was able to manage a decent pace (actually I tried but failed to slow down) and come in about 10 seconds under my targeted 35 minutes.

If you are a lapsed-racer like I was, I recommend signing up for a race. It is a great motivational tool. Also, it is great to measure your current ability and structure your training. Follow this link for a calculator that will give you estimated times for other distances as well as suggested training paces.

What does "different" mean anyway?

Your traditional scientific article title is pretty drab. Simply a jumble of big words and strange acronyms to anyone outside the target audience. Yet every now and then you get a good one. Like this paper from Germany, which proudly claims that “Ultra-Marathon Runners Are Different”

Freund W, Weber F, Billich C, Birklein F, Breimhorst M, & Schuetz UH (2013). Ultra-Marathon Runners Are Different: Investigations into Pain Tolerance and Personality Traits of Participants of the TransEurope FootRace 2009. Pain practice : the official journal of World Institute of Pain PMID: 23368760

Didn’t we know that they were different? I am embarrassed to call myself an ultra-marathoner, since I have only done two road 60K’s, but my girlfriend has already labeled me “crazy”. And then there is Scott Jurek and Ellie Greenwood and Mike Morton and many many others. People who run a race that was intended for horses. People who run from the lowest point in the continental US to the highest. In mid-July! Yes, of course we knew they were different, but I guess it is good to have some scientific backing and define what “different” actually means.

To study the “different”, Dr. Freund and his colleagues picked a great recruitment spot: TransEurope Footrace. It is not an annual race and thus is not well known. It has been held in 2003, 2009 and 2012. This paper deals with 11 people who ran the 2009 version of the race, which consisted of 64 stages run over 64 days totaling 2789 miles (4487 km, it is a pretty big continent that Europe).

The researchers went for the obvious question first: "Is there a difference in pain tolerance between the runners and controls?" The way they tested this was by dipping the subjects' hands in a bucket full of ice water and asking them to rate the pain level every 10 seconds for 3 minutes. The runners reported less pain compared to controls. This seems like a straightforward experiment and a clean result. My only worry is that runners might have developed tolerance in their hands, because they are often exposed to harsh weather conditions. In other words, this result may not be due to a general tolerance to pain. Confirmation with an alternative method would have strengthened the conclusion (maybe a slap on the face? I don't know).

On the psychological end of things, the authors put the runners and the controls through a General Self-Efficacy Test (GSE) and Temperament and Character Inventory Test (TCI). Somewhat surprisingly, GSE didn't show any differences between runners and controls. People who score higher in this test are expected to overcome more challenging tasks. But again, just because the controls didn't run 2000+ miles, doesn't mean that they are slackers. They could very well be tackling tough issues in the non-exercise realm.

On the TCI test, the runners came out less cooperative, which is something I have a hard time believing. Everything I heard so far about ultra-runners point in the opposite direction. Runners scored higher in self-transcendence and self-forgetfulness categories, which is understandable.

All in all, this paper suffers from having a small number of subjects and a limited number of tests. I do understand though. Finding subjects for this kind of work can't be easy. Neither would it be easy to convince them to sacrifice their running time to go through tests.

Despite my joking early on, I do think these folks need to be studied. They clearly exhibit certain characteristics at the extreme. Maybe not all, but at least a few of these characteristics, like perseverance and adaptability, are highly desirable. Understanding what makes ultra-runners tick at a more detailed, even at a molecular level, would help us regular humans develop these skills.