Half Marathons as Training Runs: Staten Island Half Marathon, October 10, 2010; Nike Women's Half Marathon, October 17, 2010

I have reached an interesting point in my running career, such as it is, in that the half marathon distance has become less of a milestone and more of a long training run. In some ways, I regret this - my first race with Team in Training was a half marathon and it was such a momentous thing for me to cross that finish line. On the other hand, it's been an adventure for me to take that distance and do different things with it. I've raced it in Chattanooga and managed a sub-2. I've slogged through it in New Jersey and ridden roller coasters after it in Coney Island. All in all, I've run eight half marathons.

But when marathon training, as I have been all summer, the half marathon becomes less of a goal in and of itself than a piece of the larger puzzle. In the last few weeks, I have run two half marathons as long runs - including a reprise of the same course that provided that first big racing thrill for me in San Francisco two years ago. In many ways running a half marathon as a training run in preparation for a marathon is a great idea - you get your race-day routine honed, and you can test out your strategies with clothing (arm warmers? shorts or capris?) and gels (I've recently begun a love affair with AccelGel) on an actual race course. It's given me a new appreciation for the distance. What I've lost in thrills, I've gained in appreciation for the science of the half.

* * * * *

I ran the Staten Island Half Marathon on October 10(10/10/10!) with friends. This is part of the New York Road Runners' Half Marathon Grand Prix - there is a half in each borough every year, and if you run all five you get some kind of swag. I have only ever run two in a year - the Bronx and Brooklyn in 2009, and Brooklyn and now Staten Island this year. Next year, I've resolved to try all five.

Turns out Staten Island is pretty enjoyable. I've only been there once before, and then only as long as it took me to turn around in the ferry terminal and reboard the boat to return to the Manhattan side. So it was nice to get a look at the place. I was also grateful just to be outside, since three days before the race I was felled by a nasty stomach bug. I had called out of work and laid prone on my couch; I also had barely eaten a thing in 72 hours by the time I woke up Sunday morning.

Guess it says something about my progress as a runner, and about my strength-training program, that I was even able to finish the Staten Island Half. I won't lie - it was rough. I ran with my friend Michele, and I think had I been alone I might have quit. The day was beautiful, sunny and about 65 and clear - but running without fuel in the tank is difficult, and a few times I just felt too weak to keep going. Plus Gatorade and gels tasted funky to me because of my sour stomach and I was just struggling to get any calories in.

By the time Michele and I hit the turnaround (the course was an out-and-back) at Mile 6, though, I figured I had to finish because now I was as far away from the finish line as I could be. On the return, the course went through Fort Wadsworth, where runners wait for the start of the NYC Marathon - so that was cool. The not-so-cool part was that Fort Wadsworth is up a large hill, and that really taxed my limited reserves.

Something about the race situation got to me at the end, and I was able to pick up my pace slightly to get over the finish line. I made faces and rock 'n' roll hand gestures



at the race photographer and hit the finish line in 2:12 - not bad considering all the strikes against me. I'd love to come back next year and really try to race Staten Island, because the course seems like one I could fly on.

All in all, Staten Island showed me that I can finish strong even on a really bad day. I don't feel like I would fold in a longer race even if I felt depleted - I will be able to look back at this half and see that I depended on my friends, I stuck to a nutrition/hydration plan and I recited mantras (well, I sang "Break My Stride," but whatever works, you know?). My mental game has improved even more than my physical one in the last two years - something more valuable to me, really, than the feat of 26.2.

* * * * *

On October 17, I returned to San Francisco and the Nike Women's Half Marathon. In the fall of 2008, this was my first event with Team in Training. At the time, 13.1 was the farthest I had ever run, and it was such an amazing feeling to round the corner onto the Great Highway and cross that finish line. I wondered if it would feel the same this year.

I've been plagued with injuries while training for NYC this summer. It started with tight hips, spread to a recurrence of IT Band Syndrome that flared in both hip and knee, and ended with a shin splint above my right ankle that had me convinced I'd suffered a stress fracture and ended my season. An MRI showed that it wasn't a stress fracture, and my physical therapist was able to go in and massage out the knots and help me keep my calf muscles stretched. Turns out my arches collapse with every step, which explains both the bouts with ITBS and the stress to my shin. Eventually the pain lessened but I missed three long runs and many shorter training runs while I waited to be diagnosed. I was disgruntled and discouraged. Why was I doing this? I asked myself. Why a marathon?

Turns out, a great half marathon is a no-fail cure for the marathon blues. Cleared to run by the physical therapist and armed with brand-new orthotics in my Brooks Adrenalines, I arrived in San Francisco with strict orders not to race, but simply to use the course as a long, slow distance run. A long, slow distance run with a Tiffany necklace waiting at the end. The slogan for this year's race was "I Run to Be" and I spent a fair amount of time thinking about what I run to be. Do I run just to be a marathoner? Because that's what this summer has felt like. I've spent so much time training that I tend to lose focus on what makes my individual runs interesting. So I decided to enjoy San Francisco to the max.

Also, my mom came with me to hang out in San Francisco and to watch me race. That's pretty cool, especially since she's also coming to New York. We had a fantastic weekend - we ate amazing Vietnamese, Mexican, Italian and Japanese food, memorized the bus and cable-car system and used it to get all over town, and saw some old friends. We got into a sold-out art exhibit at the de Young Museum using my press pass and we drank coffee at all the places the East Coast hasn't scored yet, like Peet's and the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf.

The day we arrived, we picked up my race number right away and I got all my race stuff laid out in the hotel room. The Nike "Expotique" was less an expo than a mess of free Gatorade/Luna Bar/Kashi samples, so I strolled through but didn't get too caught up in it. Two years ago, I was so focused on Team in Training stuff that I didn't get to enjoy the city. This year, I was more focused on hanging with Mom and staying calm and relaxed. This was a smart strategy. I did go for a warm-up run with the team the day before the race and enjoyed that.

Sunday morning, October 17, I met the rest of my Team in Training group in the Union Square Marriott lobby. I was test-driving a new pair of SmartWool armwarmers I hoped to wear in NYC and my singlet had my name on the front and a shout-out to Greg on the back. One chocolate AccelGel and one vanilla in my pocket. My NYC 2010 hat, so I could keep one eye on my bigger goal (and the other one on the fireman holding that Tiffany necklace!).

My friend Hannah - my running buddy during a super-tough TNT run earlier this summer and a fellow NYC runner using SF as a training ground - joined me and we checked our bags first thing. Then we stood around in Union Square with 19,998 other women and waited for the start gun. Hannah brought me purple gloves, which was awesome and which I ended up giving to our coach Radie, who was going to be out on the race course all day and was already shivering. The Nike Women's race is a major Team in Training event and there are purple people from all over the country there. I find it quite inspiring.

And we were off! I saw my mom at the corner near the start line, but I could not move over in the crowd enough for her to see me. I found out later she was really upset about missing me and felt terrible! Hannah and I quickly found out that there was no way to get into a smooth pace on this very crowded course, unless you wanted to waste a ton of energy weaving through. We did not. We also vowed not to stop at any of the water tables, which were pretty epic clusterfucks. We ditched our throwaway shirts two miles in at the designated recycling spot and saw Hannah's stepfather in Fisherman's Wharf, around the three-mile mark.

Four miles in came the first significant hill, and the first time we realized how prepared we were for said hills. All our Jazzy bootcamp and hill repeats with TNT paid off in dividends as we charged ahead. Coming off that hill, some girl tried to push us both out of the way. So uncool! She was not, it should be said, wearing a TNT shirt.

Six miles in, the HUGE hill popped up. It was rough going, but our reserves kicked in and we were gone. Coach James saw us at the top and took this photo of us:



as we crested the hill. So awesome. Two more miles of rolling hills, broken up by a bunch of people handing the best orange slices you've ever tasted, followed. Then a giant downhill by the ocean featuring speakers blasting "Don't Stop Believin'." When I hit this hill two years ago, I realized I was going to finish my very first 13.1 and live to tell the tale. This time, I realized that I had run 10 miles without even blinking an eye, without any pain, and not only was I going to finish this race strong, I was going to finish my marathon strong. Just like that, my mental game, blocked by all my injuries and fear of failure - was back. It was a great moment. Not even the rain that started falling here could tarnish that. (I later found out that the full marathoners on our team, and our coaches, took the brunt of that rain and still had great days. Pretty awesome.)

Hannah and I finished strong, shrieking "Brooklyn!" into the finish line in about 2:25 - where I saw my mom! And she saw me! And we jumped up and down and shrieked more! And then I got my Tiffany necklace and my finisher's t-shirt and Mom and I met up with a friend from Chattanooga who took us for coffee and pancakes and a tour of her wonderful neighborhood. That night I had sushi with Mom and beers with my coaches and the Team in Training staff. The next day Mom and I went to Sears and had 18 tiny pancakes between us, and I got a shirt that said "I Run to Be...Closer to My Coffee" (finally! the true meaning of that slogan!) then went to Fisherman's Wharf and Ghirardelli Square and rode a cable car before catching red-eyes back to our respective homes. I want to do it all again.

What Inspires Me

I've written here before about my running inspiration, Greg.

Now I'm about to start training for my second marathon. Team in Training is running a "What Inspires Me" campaign right now, and I'd like to elaborate on my mission statement and talk about why I'm doing this all over again.

To tell the truth, after I ran my first marathon, I never thought I'd run another one. Sure, that race was exhilarating. It was also, at various times, both hilarious and terrifying. It was hot and horrible, but there were also great friends and awesome coaches and Loveless biscuits afterward. It gave me a new appreciation for what my body could do - but did I want to go there again? I trained for my first marathon in the cold. I'll be training for this one over the summer. I lost four toenails last time around - shall we go for five?

But the real reason I'm running a second marathon is that I want to cross the second finish line that Greg didn't get to cross.

When Greg was sick, he knew he would need a liver transplant, and he was upfront with me that the call could come any day - even if he seemed healthy at the time. He got one, a few months after we started dating, in July of 1999, from a woman in her 30s who died from a stroke. We used to joke that having a woman's liver kept him in touch with his feminine side. But the reality wasn't as funny. Transplant recipients often go through bouts of survivor's guilt, and Greg felt this keenly, often wondering aloud to me why he was alive and his donor wasn't.

But it worked. For a year and a half, that transplanted liver worked. Greg's eyes, yellowed from jaundice, turned blue and white again. He went skiing with friends. We went to the beach and sat in the sun and told each other we were in it for the long haul. Greg crossed the finish line. Or so we thought.

That liver started to fail sometime in late 2000. His eyes turned yellow again. He lost weight he didn't have to lose. And so Greg's dad gave him a chance at a second race for life: a piece of his own liver. Did you know livers regenerate? Like starfish? They do.

And so our second marathon began. But it was off to a bad start - think heat, humidity, dehydration, leg cramps, spectators yelling "Almost there!" at mile 6. Lots of hospitalizations. Scary ER trips. We went back to the beach but this time it felt like what it was - a last hurrah. We hit the wall. On New Year's Eve 2001, Greg went back to the transplant unit at Mt. Sinai Hospital and never went back home. He died six weeks later, on his 26th birthday. DNF.

I don't know why he didn't make it across that finish line, when I was sure he would. But I can. He can't, so I will. I'm going to take my body, which has betrayed me in its own ways this past year, and run and run for two of us. I'm going to run through the town we had just started to call home, and I'm going across that finish line in Central Park with my hands in the air and my head held high for the both of us. I hope it brings us both peace.

A Tale of Two Half Marathons

Tra la, tra la, the lusty month of May...so the song goes. I guess it applies to me in terms of lust for racing: I ran two half marathons in May.*

(*But wait, you say, I think you're missing a race! So I am going to mention quickly that I ran the JFK Runway Run 5K on April 18, which does not merit its own entry because it could not even live up to its very name. A race that is supposed to be run on the runway at JFK Airport, which requires a lot of time and energy to get to, should actually incorporate the runway. So, grrr, JFK Rotary Club.)

Back to those half marathons. Which I ran. Both of them. In the same month. Lustily. Same distance, same metro area, very different outcomes. You can see it in the photos above: in the first, I resemble a dying animal; in the second, I'm beaming.

The Long Branch Half Marathon, part of the New Jersey Marathon Festival, was...hot. Very hot. Ninety degrees in the shade, humid, dehydrating hot. Suck the life out of your race hot. Photo #1 hot.

I ran this race with Team in Training, and had ostensibly been preparing for it since November. The truth was that the TNT season was so long (our first practice was the week before Thanksgiving!) that I kind of forgot about this race until just before it happened. I had a big project at work that required my attention. And I also was invited to audition for Jeopardy! (The invitation arrived in January, but the actual audition was held three days before my race.) That was one very cool experience - they asked a question about my birthday ("The holiday that has been celebrated on June 14 each year since 1885. What is FLAG DAY!")! It's a sign! - but again, loss of focus. See? I can't even write this post.

So in between all the editing (and apologizing for the wedding I missed on its account) and answering trivia questions, I was lucky I found any time at all to focus on 13.1. For my last pre-race TNT practice that week, I packed two left sneakers. My mind - and subsequently, my heart - just wasn't in it.

On Saturday, May 1, I met my road-trip mates at the 7th Avenue Diner & Donut Shop for brunch before we hit the road. Five girls, lots of laughs, even more carbs. Then we hit the road. I think you won't blame me if I say that the car trips down and back to Jersey were the highlight of my weekend. I've met some awesome people through Team in Training, and our little road trip gang was no exception. Love you Kelly, Christy, Michele and Mary!

Once we got down to Long Branch, we checked into the Holiday Inn, hit a craft store for supplies to make gifts for our mentees, dashed into the race expo to get our bibs/chips/shirts, and went to the TNT NYC team meeting and the pasta dinner. Then back to the room to get race-ready - clothes laid out, shirts decorated, D-tags on shoes. The girls came by to get their gifts prepared. Then finally we got ready to get a little sleep, only to discover that there was a car bomb in Times Square being covered relentlessly on TV. One more thing to lose focus over!

Race morning was hot. No doubt about it - even by the water, on the boardwalk where we lined up at the start, it was already in the 70s. This race should have started at 8 or even 7 a.m. - NOT at 9 a.m. Even if they'd made a last-minute change, no one would have blamed them. But they didn't, and so it was hot.

Less than a mile into the race, we turned off the boardwalk and the full force of the heat hit like an oven. Suddenly, there was no more breeze off the water - but all of the humidity stayed behind. I passed the two-mile marker and knew it was going to be a very long day. I said as much, and Kelly rightfully told me to shut it.

I will give huge props to the people of Long Branch who stood out in their yards with garden hoses to spray down us runners. (Fewer props to the runner dude who filled his water bottle with one of said hoses while a line formed behind him to get sprayed. Loser.)

Six miles in, I knew I had to slow down. I knew when I started that I wouldn't PR. I now knew I just needed to finish without collapsing from heatstroke. I dumped water over my head, refilled my bottle with water and Gatorade, and settled in to a drastically slower pace.

Eight miles in, I finally saw a coach I knew (I saw a couple of the Manhattan coaches earlier on the course and they ignored us - NICE). Amy kept pace with me for a mile while I complained bitterly about the heat and lack of water between miles 7 and 10. I saw Coach Jim at mile 10 and he ran with me for a bit - at this point, I knew I would finish and told him not to waste energy.

When the boardwalk - and the final mile - came into view at the end of the race, I overheard a woman say she now knew what heaven looked like. I still maintain that it looks more like mint chocolate chip ice cream, but she wasn't totally off the mark. The last mile felt so much better. I ran into Mary at the end and we crossed the finish line together. My final time: 2:13, an extra minute for each mile off my PR. That's how freaking hot it was.

We collected our medals and hats and checked in with TNT.

I think I can safely say I won't do this race again. Just too much pain for not enough gain.

Now, the Brooklyn Half Marathon on Saturday, May 22 was a completely different story. See Photo #2!

This race, I love. I had a good run last year despite some serious organizational issues on the part of New York Road Runners. It's in my backyard (aka Prospect Park), it finishes at one of the happiest places on earth (Coney Island) and you get discounted roller coaster rides at the end. Really, what's not to love?

Maybe that 7 a.m. start time...but after my experience in Long Branch, I didn't mind this at all. Even getting up at 5 to eat - not a problem.

Maybe that they put bagwatch in the center of the park...but I know my way around, so no big deal.

Maybe Marty Markowitz...fuhgeddaboutit!

The Brooklyn Half this year started with two laps of Prospect Park. I like to think of this like a Cherry Tree race without the third loop - in other words, a piece of cake. Mostly, I wanted to save energy here by not trying to push ahead of people and by taking the hills efficiently. Kelly and I saw lots of friends here and it was just nice. It is NICE to run a race in your backyard.

On our way downhill on our first loop, finishing our third mile, we heard sirens. Already, I thought? Someone is hurt? And then I realized...no, it's just the LEADER of the entire race, lapping me fully - and that's his pace car.

When we finished the second loop and exited the park at Mile 7, my right hip started to hurt. I've been having lots of IT-related hip issues lately. But I was proud of myself - I took stock of the pain, decided it wouldn't cripple me, decided it wasn't really worth slowing down over, and kept going. I am not so good at the mental game of running yet, and this took a lot of willpower on my part - but I did it.

By Mile 9,I was ready for a water stop, and I poured a bit over my head as well. I stopped at Mile 10 as well, more for a mental boost then than for any actual hydration.

For the last two miles on Ocean Parkway, I sang "Break My Stride" to myself, over and over. I find that if I do this, my pace stays steady and it's easier to push through pain at the end of a race where I'm really exerting myself.

Bon Jovi's "Livin on a Prayer" was playing when I hit the Coney Island boardwalk, and I sang that too. Out loud, this time!

And then finally I finished, in pain, sweaty, salty and exhilarated. I did it! And I'm at Coney Island! (For the record, I finished in 2:05, which I'm quite pleased with although I would have liked to get closer to my PR.) Kelly and I got the cute photo at the top of this post taken before picking up our bags.

Postrun activities included a run into the ocean, an Egg McMuffin, a ride on the Cyclone (that I loved and Kelly hated, and we have another awesome photo to prove it) and a Coney Island Lager - all before noon! Then there were more Coney Island Lagers as we met up with friends at Coney Island's premier outdoor bar, Beer Island - my new favorite spot in what is already a favorite spot.

Brooklyn: same time, next year? OK.

JackRabbit Anyone Can Win 5K, April 13, 2010

The JackRabbit Anyone Can Win 5K had the best premise for a race that I've seen yet. No watches. No mile markers. No clocks. Nobody wins at the finish line.

Instead, JackRabbit asked us to predict our finishing times for a 5K when we signed up for the race. The people who got closest to their predicted times would win - not the first people to cross the finish line. And they have some great prizes - JackRabbit gift certificates! Visions of keeping myself in Vanilla Gu all summer long danced through my head.

We also were asked to chip in $20 to keep Prospect Park pretty. Easy enough! I do love me some Prospect Park.

Now. My fastest 5K ever was 25:08, run during a test in the midst of my current Team in Training season. Because it was pitch-black and midwinter at the time of the test, we ran the 5K in a loop around the top half of the park and Prospect Park West. So the course was more or less flat. This race was a full loop around the park, which meant hills. Of the South and North variety.

Also important: I really thought I was going to die during the 5K test. I was getting a cold and could barely breathe. Also, I dropped my glove in the middle and lost about 30 seconds going back and picking it up.

So when I registered for the Anyone Can Win 5K, I based my time not on that test - because I had no desire to feel like that again - but rather on my PR half marathon pace of 9:10. I wrote down 27:30.

TNT BK ran this race in lieu of our normal Tuesday night practice, so it was great to be outside on a pretty night with all my teammates and coaches. It's not often that I get the benefit of my coaches cheering me on during a little 5K race, so that was great.

Know thyself. This was the theme of the night. And I don't. Know myself, that is. Because I ran the 5K in 25:15, possibly a bit faster. That's my 5K PR for an official race, in case you are counting. And also just seven seconds slower than that 5K test. Which I should have written down instead of the slower time, because I'd have won big!

I chalk this up to what every coach, every experienced runner, every race veteran will tell you: Don't go out too fast. To which I say: Then don't start your races on a downhill.

In sum, I'm pretty proud of myself for my PR - it was just about 8 months ago, in August of 2009, in Prospect Park, in a race sponsored by JackRabbit, that I ran my first 5K in under 30 minutes. So I've shaved off over four minutes in one training season, in a distance I really don't enjoy that much (I could go on and on about this, but I'll keep it short and just say that a 5K is a warmup for me.).

I just really wanted that gift certificate! Time to get serious about pacing. And get to know myself a bit better - because apparently I really can run a 5K in 25 minutes and change.

Sub-2! And Other Things That Happened in February

I ran three races in February. I think this was an impressive feat because February is the shortest month of the year. Even more impressive, two of the three races were 10 miles or longer. Even MORE impressive, I ran a sub-2 half marathon, one of my big running goals for 2010.

And then I forgot to write about it all.



First up was the Valentine's Day 5K in Prospect Park on - yes - Valentine's Day, February 14, 2010 sponsored by Brooklyn Road Runners and Slope Sports. I found this race courtesy of my friends at NYCRuns.com. If you run in New York, you should be hooked up with this website. This is also how I found the super-awesome Coney Island Turkey Trot. Join! Now!

This was a nice run - one loop around the park, easy. I ran with Kelly and finished in 29:39. Lady Southpaw played the afterparty at the KofC and rocked the house as always. Followed the race up with brunch at the estimable 7th Avenue Diner & Donuts with the girls.



On February 21, I ran the Cherry Tree 10-Miler in Prospect Park, sponsored by the Prospect Park Track Club and Slope Sports. This is a tough, tough race - you may remember I had some trouble with it last year. This year, I had a great race (finished in about 1:32). I credit better training and overall fitness, gorgeous weather and my TNT BK teammates for the support and the coaches who cheered us all on.

And then, the very next week, I ran a sub-2 half marathon!



I ran the Scenic City Half Marathon in my hometown, Chattanooga, Tennessee, on February 27.

The photo at the top of this post is of me around mile 11 of this race. Don't you like my arm warmers? I bought those with a Slope Sports discount I received for doing the Cherry Tree race. I gotta say, Kara Goucher is right - arm warmers rule. The weather was near-perfect for a long race - low 40s at the start, warming up to the mid-50s. I ran in shorts and an obnoxiously bright green t-shirt. I didn't want to wear a jacket, since I knew I'd want to ditch it a mile in, but I needed something. And that something was arm warmers.

This race was pretty all-around awesome. I was ready for it, I trained, and I had a goal: to beat two hours.

I was also battling a fair number of personal demons going into this race. Forget April - February is my cruelest month. I knew running this race hard and having a goal wouldn't eradicate my problems, but it would help me face them head-on.

There was a significant delay at the start because, apparently, the computer wasn't working to activate the start mat, and our timing chips would not register. The clock also wasn't working, but because I was wearing a watch I didn't much care about that. But I knew I wanted an official time. The race organizers should have told us to leave the start area and come back 20 minutes later, but they didn't. So we all stood around, freezing. (Thank you arm warmers.)

At 8:30 a.m., a half hour after we were supposed to start, we were off! To the strains of Matthew Wilder's "Break My Stride." Remember that - it comes back into play later, much like the proverbial gun that, if shown in Act I, must be fired by the end of the play.

The race left Finley Stadium, the University of Tennessee-Chattanooga's football stadium, and headed downtown. The first mile or so was a little downhill, which gave me pause as I realized mile 13 would be a little uphill. Sigh.

Running through downtown Chattanooga for the second mile was neat - the river to the left, the aquarium to the right. Straight ahead - giant hill. The third mile was all uphill. I ran this mile on-pace but it was not especially fun.

At mile 4, my family was waiting for me outside the Boathouse restaurant on Amnicola Highway - waving huge green-lettered RUN LELA RUN signs. This was so cool, I can't even tell you. What a boost! Thanks, family! They were so cool that I missed the 4-mile marker. No worries, keep running down Amnicola. The city really should have organized the traffic cutoffs better - runners had to cross traffic heading into town to turn onto the Riverwalk around mile 5.5. I took a Gu here.

The Riverwalk is one of my favorite places in Chattanooga - scenic path that runs, yes, along the Tennessee River. It's very pretty and I just let myself enjoy miles 6-7. Just before the Mile 8 marker, my family was back with their signs. Yay! They told me later that I looked better than everyone around me. I'll give TNT credit for that one.

The next mile was a sick, sick uphill. I've run it before, but not this fast and not this far into a run. Up, up, up, past UTC's practice football field and into the Bluff View Arts District. One more family surprise at the top of the hill!

I'd been keeping pace with a guy for the first 8 miles of the race or so, but I lost him on this uphill. This is partly because I knew what lay on the other side of the uphill - a very serious DOWNHILL. We're talking a nearly vertical downhill here, the result of a course change due to some bridge construction. After I passed my family and headed past the Walnut Street Bridge into the quadbuster, I passed the guy. He was not very happy.

Over the Market Street Bridge onto Frazier Avenue - not bad. I've never run over the Market Street Bridge, but it used to scare me to drive over it as a kid because it sings. It's a drawbridge and driving over the metal grates produces a weird humming noise. Some spectators on Frazier, but my mind was on getting uphill - again - to cross the Veterans Bridge, home of many speeding drives to high school (which I passed in the process - go Bruisers). Never run the Veterans either - but it's neither very scenic nor very fun for running. My legs were sore at this point, and I still had to go back uphill to the top of Bluff View again. Ow. More Gu.

Finally, downhill to the 11-mile marker, which I inadvertently missed while grabbing water. Sweet, sweet swooping downhill back into downtown. Got some water in me and got my legs back.

Little rise, almost missed the 12-mile marker, which had blown over. At this point, I hadn't looked at my watch in a while because I didn't want to know how close I was to my goal. But I figured I was feeling good, I had to be close. So I started singing. To myself. Loudly. "Nobody gonna break my stride, nobody gonna slow me down, oh no..." (This apparently works well as a mantra because I later found that I ran this mile at a 7:42 pace, which is pretty unreal for me.)

Uphill, uphill, ow. Into the homestretch, past the 13-mile marker, stadium in sight. Then the clock came into sight. Hey, it works! And it says...1:58?! I shrieked "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"...and SPRINTED full-on into the finish. High knees, high arms, I was Usain Bolt, people. Hit the mat, look at the watch...

1:59:32 says the watch!!! I did it! Got my medal, had my chip clipped, got a bottle of water, and saw my friend Jody who caught my photo finish. My mom appeared with my fleece and my dad and uncle with their cameras. Time for brunch!

When the official results appeared, I gained a whole second!

1:59:31. Take that, February.

NYRR Fred Lebow Classic 5-Mile, January 9, 2010

That's me, way over on the right with my foot going out of frame. I sacrificed a fair amount of warmth to sport some Team in Training Gear and have my number out prominently during this race, and this is the treatment I get from Brightroom. Hmph.

So there's no photographic proof, but there is proof in the form of numbers. And those numbers show I kicked some major ass in this race. Five miles in 43:40. What those numbers don't show you, and only my new watch (Timex Ironman, a Christmas present from my wonderful dad) showed me, was that I ran negative splits the whole way - and finished with a 7:46 final mile. Kick. Ass.

Did I mention it was about 20 degrees, less with the windchill, at the start? It was cold. Very, very cold. I had to talk to a friend for a few miles just to keep my face from going numb. However, my best races tend to happen in weather like this - I fade quickly in heat.

I started this blog last year with the goal of becoming a runner, as opposed to someone who signed up to do a half marathon and felt compelled to follow through. In the last year I ran a marathon, two half marathons and qualified for the 2010 New York City Marathon by running nine New York Road Runners qualifying races and volunteering at a 10th - another goal I set out to chronicle here. Running my marathon was really hard. I didn't love all of those qualifying races. But I did become a runner. I go out for runs now and it's no longer a struggle. It's become something I have to do, a part of me. I was away from the city over the holidays for three weeks, and while I was gone I made an effort to run regularly, in places both familiar and un-. I found a playground that time forgot near my grandmother's house and discovered that hill training pays off when running in my parents' neighborhood (at one point I found myself running perpendicular to a hill).

Team in Training reeled me in again this year. I signed up to run the Long Branch Half Marathon in New Jersey on May 2 with them, as a way of beginning my training for NYC. They asked me to serve as a mentor captain, which was an honor, and I'm enjoying the challenge of keeping my fellow mentors plugged in. I'll probably follow this season with the fall one and train with them for NYC. There's not enough space on this blog to talk in detail about how much the TNT family has given me, but suffice it to say I owe them a lot more than my fitness, and a lot more than I would likely fundraise even if I participated in every season for the rest of my running-able life.

2009 was one of the most difficult years of my life, personally. I dealt with a salary cut and layoffs at work, lost my grandmother, miscarried twice, struggled with a lot of Deep Thoughts and overall spent the year wondering what, exactly, I had done to deserve such a karmic blow. It was a year of loss. Running kept me sane (well, that's a questionable word - perhaps "balanced" is better) through it all. Remembering that I set goals to improve my speed, my times, my race performances and to qualify for that marathon kept me going. I owe many people - coaches, running partners, friends and family - lots of thanks for getting me through, and here's to a better 2010.

Why I Run: February 25, 2009

Seven years ago today, I said goodbye to Greg, my first love and best friend. He died on his 26th birthday in 2002 after complications from a liver transplant, his second in three years. It was easily the worst day of my life to date, and I still remember everything that happened as if it were yesterday — the phone call at work telling me what was happening and that I needed to take a cab immediately to Mount Sinai, the room full of crying relatives, the nurse removing his ventilator tube, my mom taking me to dinner and neither of us eating, all of us sitting around his bed telling him what a great person he was and that it was OK to leave us, that we’d miss him but we’d be fine.

I’m not fine. I lied.

Also, time doesn’t really heal. That’s also a lie. It just makes your memories a little fuzzier around the edges.

I have other, better memories of Greg. Going to Montauk and sitting on the beach all day long and then for dinner going to a place on the water and ordering some obscenely large lobster — three pounds? — to split, getting butter all over the place and watching the sunset and thinking, this is actually a perfect day. Eating that roast beef sandwich from the cheese place in Hoboken. Driving to IHOP on a Sunday morning and singing Top 40 songs off Z100 (“This Kiss” by Faith Hill and “What’s My Age Again?” by Blink 182 and “Breathless” by the Corrs) out the window to perplexed drivers on the 1/9. Trying to learn how to throw a Frisbee. Watching football and baseball games. Ordering pizza on Sunday nights. He called me Sasquatch because one day I was wearing a pair of platform sandals and I fell off them in front of Dunkin Donuts and he laughed so hard he had to sit down on the sidewalk. We saw Aerosmith together and I tried to convince him not to vote for George W. Bush and he encouraged me to apply to grad school.

A lot of my memories of him involve the hospital, because that’s where he spent a lot of time in our three years together. I knew where to find extra juice and who the nicest nurse in the transplant unit was. I could sit there all day with a book and hang out with him and never feel bored or sad or angry. I was just grateful to have him in my life.

But I’m still not fine. I miss him. And I want other people to know why he was so great, and that is why I run.

Greg was a kickass athlete, a lacrosse champion in high school who got recruited to play in college, but had to give it up when he was diagnosed with primary sclerosing cholangitis, an autoimmune liver disease, his freshman year of college. He was also a Junior Olympic skier.

I am not an athlete, but I became one because of Greg.

When I decided to start running, I started with a charity, Team in Training, that raises money for blood cancer research. I figured that if I could keep one family from watching their loved one die like I did, and like Greg’s family and friends did, I could run 13.1 or 26.2 miles. Greg volunteered with lots of kids who had leukemia, something he said always made his day, and he wanted people to donate to Make-a-Wish and Special Olympics when he died. I think he’d be excited that I’m doing this. One day I will create an event in Greg’s memory, so I can get together with friends and celebrate this amazing person who left us way before his time.

In the meantime, I’m still not fine, but I run. And run and run and run, because there’s still no cure for blood cancer and there’s still no cure for primary sclerosing cholangitis and there’s still no cure for a broken heart.

NYC 2010 Qualifying Race #1: The Fred Lebow Classic, January 10, 2009

On January 10, I completed the first of nine qualifying races (and one stint as a volunteer) to qualify for the New York City Marathon in 2010. I've always dreamed about running NYC, even before I knew I could actually run. I watch the marathon every year, cheering for friends and family and occasional really hot Italian men who respond well to my cries of "Forza!"

The race was the five-mile Fred Lebow Classic, named for the man who founded the NYC Marathon. A good way to kick off the process.

Team in Training Brooklyn ran this marathon qualifier as part of our training, so I met my group in Central Park around 7:30 for the 8 a.m. race. Riding the subway to Manhattan on race mornings is always fun. I'm always the only runner for several stops on the Q train through Brooklyn. When I get to downtown Brooklyn I start seeing people with numbers filter on to the train, and we exchange knowing looks at each other's running tights. By the time we hit the transfer point for the uptown 4/5/6 trains, the platform is full of runners, and more and more pack on as the train gets closer to Central Park.

This race started on 99th Street and the East Drive in Central Park. Bagwatch was on the road leading up from 102nd Street, so I checked my stuff. For the first time I realized that NYRR's bagwatch system is according to the LAST number on your bib, not the first. Oops.

I met my teammates and we took a few photos and commiserated about the cold -- at the start line they said it was 24F out. Brrr. Then we headed to the start. I had a pink bib, putting me in the starting corral for the 9-10-minute/milers, reflecting my 9:22/mile pace -- a personal best for myself that I set in a NYRR race in December.

The gun went off and we were off! Thanks to judicious layering I wasn't as cold in this race as I was in December, and I felt good. The first mile was packed with people and I was frustrated because I couldn't get a good rhythm established. Once the pack cleared out, I was on my way and feeling good. According to my watch, I was hitting nine-minute miles (at least until I hit the wrong button on my watch and lost my time at mile 3).

I yelled at a woman in a giant fur coat walking three tiny hairless dogs and a husband who crossed the street in front of me by the reservoir. Hello, there are signs all over the park announcing a road race. Don't mess up my pace!

By this time I was broiling hot and had unzipped my jacket and stripped off both pairs of gloves as I headed for the end. I crossed the finish line feeling great -- I did the math and figured that I had come in under 45 minutes, setting another personal record. I had figured I would run a 47-minute race.

Here's a photo of me crossing the finish line. I had my number on the back of my jacket so they didn't get identifiable shots of me running, but I'm glad to have this one. And yes Mom, I put my gloves back on right after that.

Here are my official results. Check out that 8:52/mile pace! This weekend for qualifying race #2, I'll get a different color bib and a new starting corral for my efforts.

Happy New Year!

2008 was the year I started running.

2009 will be the year I become a runner.

I celebrated the New Year by running a 5K race with my friend Jess at midnight in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park, sponsored by Slope Sports. It was freezing cold, but nothing a few extra layers and some peppermint schnapps to spike the complimentary hot chocolate couldn’t help. (Oh yeah, and there was champagne, too.)

I loved how laid-back this race was. Some guy looking for the fireworks came and ran alongside us as we were heading toward the finish line, and had no idea that we were running a real race even though we had numbers on our jackets. The starting “gun” was a guy who shrugged and yelled at us to start running. Bagcheck was a roped-off area under a tree. But compared to how overwrought this holiday normally is, running 3.1 miles and finishing with fireworks while drinking champagne out of a water bottle suited me just fine.

Now I want to use this space to document my year in running. I’m going to run my first marathon this year, knock on wood, and I wanted a place to record my training -- to paraphrase Dr. Seuss, good runs, bad runs, long runs, short runs. On April 25, I'll be heading to Nashville to run the Country Music Marathon with Team in Training Brooklyn. Tennessee or bust!

I’m also going to run nine races with New York Road Runners (and volunteer for one) to qualify for the 2010 New York City Marathon. Talking about all my qualifying races will help me remember what it takes to reach a goal like that.

I’ve been a writer for a long time, but I also haven’t written substantively for a long time and it’s time to get back to it. And writing about running will keep me from boring the non-runners in my life while letting my fellow runners in on a little more of my life.