Thanksgiving in Glen Ridge- The Quest For The Holy Cup

For many, Thanksgiving is all about traditions. Growing up, it meant a few days off from school (Yay!) accompanied by a trip to a cramped 105 degree Brooklyn apartment. (Nay!) accompanied by hanging up some Christmas decorations the next day, then back to school. Later in High school, Thanksgiving was a little more enticing. No school on Thursday meant I would go skateboarding or rollerblading on Wednesday night (Hey it was the 90's!). Living a stone's throw from NYC I used to like to go up the hill from where I lived and look at the NYC skyline and see the Empire State building all lit up in Autumn colors of gold, orange, and brown. The next day I'd sleep in, watch the last 30 minutes of the parade, and get on with the overeating. It also meant high school Cross Country and Football season were over and when we headed back to school on Monday, Winter track began and we took over the JV locker rooms while the Basketball team took over the Varsity locker rooms. Fast forward a few more years and the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving meant going out to "party" all night and hoping you'd run into some old high school friends. But when you did, it was always just weird and awkward when you realized that apart from sitting next to each other in English class for 4 years, you have absolutely nothing in common with 95% of your graduating class. A few more years, and too many pounds later, with a reinvigorated spark for running and I heard about a local "Turkey Trot" taking place in the next town over, The Ashenfelter 8K Classic, or A8K for short.

A quick google search revealed some information about the race. The year prior (2006) had been a cold rain I couldn't believe people would actually run in...let alone on Thanksgiving morning. I also learned that 8K is 4.97 Miles, but that 8K sounds much cooler than 5 Miler. Now onto this Ashen-whatever his name is guy... I quickly found out that the race was named in honor of living legend Horace Ashenfelter, gold medalist at the 1952 Olympic 3000m steeple chase, who just so happened to  also be living in the next town over from me, and who, at the time, aged 84 years young (presently 92) was still known to be seen running around the streets of Glen Ridge, NJ. Which brings me to one of my favorite stories of the namesake of the A8K.

Like many of us who work full time jobs and find time to dedicate to training, as the story goes, Horace Ashenfelter in his 1952 build up to Olympic Gold would train through his hometown of Glen Ridge, NJ, hurdling the benches in Glenfield park. Long before the first American running boom of Frank Shorter, Steve Prefontaine, and Tom Flemming, seeing someone running through the park at 10 PM dressed in what was described as "underwear" (more likely a cotton singlet and shorts) was enough to warrant a call to the local Police Department. Imagine your workout being interrupted and explaining to the Police that you are an FBI agent training to win in the Olympics! Crazy, to be sure, but a good kind of crazy. For after all, we runners wear our crazy as a badge of honor. Like many runners I have my pre-race routine every year at the A8K which includes a warm up through nearby Glenfield Park, and those storied benches. It helps me get into the spirit of the event, and escape the huge crowds that are slowly gathering 1/4 mile away.

with Horace Ashenfelter, 2010, 3rd Place in my age group

Now, having raced consecutively here since 2007 (I unofficially ran in 2012 on Dr's orders that I should not race that year) I've come to love this event as one of my favorite races of the year, second only to The Boston Marathon. And as my Wednesday night "Pre-Thanksgiving" traditions have changed over the years, one of my favorite traditions is attending the pre race packet pickup held annually in Glen Ridge High School's gymnasium. Nothing fancy to attract anyone here, but it is always fun bumping into many friends, team mates, rivals, and runners of all ages. You pick up your bib (race number), long sleeve A8K tech top, chat a little about the race, and return home in time to pin your race bib to your singlet and get in a good night's sleep before the big day. For a few years, I would then go home and start to brine my Turkey, but watching Paul Simon in a turkey suit on SNL's thanksgiving special is more fun.

Most races give out awards for overall wins (1st, 2nd, and 3rd, Male & Female) as well as age groups. A plastic trophy, or a medal is par for the course. You come in 90th place overall at most races, don't place in your age group and go home empty handed. No one is going to pat you on the back. But at the A8K the stakes are always higher. For one thing this has been a USA Track & Field team championship race for several years, which means the fast guys and girls come out. For another, many college and high school runners are home for the holiday and coming out of Cross Country season, usually in outstanding shape. And, what better to do with all that hard earned fitness, than test it out at the (mostly) flat and (very) fast A8K. Which is why with 3,100 finishers (as of 2015), it's a pretty big deal to be in the top 100 men or women. For the men, you'll need to basically be able to run a 6 min/mile pace. For the woman this year you needed 7:21 pace or faster...not an easy feat for either gender! And for this prestigious top 100 you are awarded with a coffee mug. Yup, thats right a coffee mug, that people literally talk about all year long. There really is nothing fancy about these mugs. They've looked that same for years, varying only in color and the date printed on them. Although this year, for the 15th running, mugs were slightly different than years past, white with a blue interior and handle for men, and white with a pink interior and handle for women, and a bit smaller than usual. I've seen videos of people fighting each other on Black Friday for that last flat screen door buster deal, and I imagine that is what it must be like when the last mug is presented. I was 109th male across the line in 2008 and my team mates made a pretty big deal about how close I came to earning the coveted mug. I didn't realize at the time just how prestigious this unassuming coffee mug could be, but since that day, I've made it my annual Thanksgiving Day mission to earn that mug! Age group winners are awarded with high quality running jackets or shirts embroidered with the A8K classic logo. You show up wearing one of these at your next Sunday morning group run, and people will know what it means.

After receiving (or according to the odds not receiving your mug), you get to shake hands with the namesake of this event, Horance Ashenfelter himself, and proceed back into the warm high school gym, to change out of your racing gear, in to some dry warm-ups, and get in a cool down. Of course it feels so nice to be out of the cold, and it's always so much fun talking and wishing friends Happy Thanksgiving that I tend to delay my cool down, but when I do you can find me back at Glenfield park, just as our local hero was 63 years ago. This year, several of the adult runners I coach were in attendance, and it was great to hear about their races, and PR's. Definitely a nice addition to the day!  And then it's over the river and through the woods, to get that carbohydrate/protein rich Thanksgiving dinner that you know you earned!

Oh, and as for me this year...28:36 at 64th place. Back a few seconds from my PR. Not something worth mentioning, if not for the mug!

2015 Summer Recap

Well, it's been a while since I wrote my last blog entry. So long in fact, that the last time I wrote, I was slowly packing up my running gloves, and jackets and unpacking my shorts and singlets. And now here it is, officially Autumn, and the return of the cold weather running gear. A lot has happened in those shorts and singlets. Mostly sweat, a few PR's, some new hardware, and another summer of great memories.

After Boston, I spent the time recovering by getting some nice rides on my road bike, and gradually re-introduced running into my week. Before long, I was hitting the track for weekly sessions getting ready for "The Big Three"...President's cup 5K, Lager Run 5K, and The Sunset Classic 5M.
Now I'm not sure if everyone has the same holy reverence as I do for these three races, but as I've written before, I find a race I like and do it every year, hopefully a little faster each time. So lets start with the first race of my summer, President's Cup 5K Open men's championship in Millburn NJ.

If there's one thing you can bet on it's the consistency of this race. It is always packed with talent, it is always fast, and Mother Nature will always surprise you with what she has in store for the night. With a relatively cool temperature (70 degrees F) and relatively high humidity (95%) it was anyone's guess just how much the weather would be a factor. But as in years past there is something special about this hilly race. Not only is it one of the most competitive 5Ks in the state, but one of the fastest too. I managed to sneak in a PR. In fact, the first time I ever broke 18:00 was on this course, and after holding onto a 17:18 PR (also set on this course) I managed to PR again this year with a 17:14. With a time like this I would be standing on the overall podium in many local races. But this is President's Cup, where my PR still placed me at 47th overall, but did manage to earn me the coveted Age Group 35-39 year championship title with a strongly packed field of 59 others. But this was my first 5K in almost a year...surely I could better my PR in the upcoming Lager Run 5K, a flatter, faster course which I train on several times a week. Only problem is, the Lager Run is always 6 days away from President's Cup so there's minimal time to recover, train, and get ready for another PR. This year however The Sunset Classic did a swap, and would be held a week after President's Cup, also on a Monday.

The Sunset Classic 5 Miler is one of those races that you look forward to every year, and then once you are in mile 3 you wish you had trained better...or the course wasn't so hilly...or it wasn't so hot...or it wasn't a few days after a previous fast race...or, well you get the point. All kidding aside this is a race that people tend to shy away from and I'm not quite sure why. Five milers are rare these days, and this one is, by far, my favorite. For one thing it's another night race. I realized the first time I ever ran it how apt the name "The Sunset Classic" was. It takes place at sunset and there's a significant uphill climb at the beginning of mile 2 on, you guessed it, Sunset Ave. As with President's Cup I've run this race every year since 2007 and I have to say, it never gets easier. What has changed is my overall place. I went from 99th place in 2007, to 49th the next year, then 18th, 8th, 10th, 8th again, 7th, and finally to 3rd this year. I even ran in 2010 when the race was cancelled due to renovation of the Foley Field track finish when a small group of us gathered and ran the course. (That year I won... I swear!) But one of my favorite traditions with this race is gathering with friends after the race over a little food and conversation. When we are all together it doesn't matter who came in what place, or who PR'd it's about the camaraderie that runners share on a nice June evening. Driving back home from the after-party is a little bitter sweet. There's usually some nice hardware to display and often a new PR, but this also marks that "The Big Three" is over. But not so fast. Remember this year the Lager Run 5K came last.

Lager Run 5K race shirts from 2007-2015

The Lager Run 5K is The Ashenfelter 8K's little brother. It's run on many of the same streets, benefits the same charity, has the same race director, and has the same quality and class we have come to expect from both races. This race is flat and fast, and usually pretty hot. If you run the Lager Run 5K and the Sunset Classic (always a week apart from each other) you might get a feeling of deja-vu. It shares Forest Ave, but in opposite directions (as does the A8K in November). It also boasts a track finish. Usually I use President's cup as a way of gauging my 5K fitness and have been fortunate enough to PR here. I then try to go onto Lager Run and better my PR, but this year I paid for my aggressive first mile tactics and had a slow last mile, resulting in missing a PR by 6 seconds. After the team and individual awards many of us head across the track to the title sponsor, Fitzgerald's for a post race meal. But if that's not for you, beverages and pretzels are provided at the finish line for all racers over 21. Many people will tell you that's the reason they come here, but let's face it, you are going to be hard pressed to find a faster, higher quality 5K, which is what brings me back year after year. In fact, 2015 marked my 9th consecutive Lager Run 5K finish.


In years past, after "The Big Three," there were a few options. A) Take my running fitness and add swimming and cycling to get ready for an upcoming triathlon or two B) Back off from racing, but put my nose to the grindstone training for an upcoming fall marathon C) Refocus on training for my upcoming "River to Sea" stage race, or D) Take a week of easy recovery miles, train through the summer, and refocus on fast fall racing. Sometimes a combination of some or all of that. This year, I went with option D and refocused on The Liberty Half Marathon, where I hoped to PR. I had already turned down an invite to the "River to Sea Relay" (R2C) and had firmly made up my mind (even if I was secretly regretting it). If you are not familiar with R2C here is a link to the Runner's World article written by a team mate and training partner. So, off I set in the blistering July heat, gradually increasing my weekly mileage and heading out for early morning tempo runs. What I didn't expect was a last minute injury of one of my training partners, leaving him out of R2C. I told him if he couldn't do it, I'd step in and take his place. One more tempo run through the pea-soup-thick summer heat and humidity and I was in a van with 7 other runners about to start another year of R2C on tired legs, and not in the shape I wanted to be.


As I ran my 7th (and what I thought at the time was my last R2C in 2013 I tried to go out with a bang. I had run the same stages (1 & 9) every single year. And I was fortunate enough to get faster and faster each year. So for my swan song, I tried ending with times I could look back on proudly in years to come, and as something I thought might stand a year or so before one of my teammates inevitably bested those times. If, and it was a huge if, I ever raced R2C again, I certainly would NOT race stages 1 & 9 ever again. I was done... So on the morning of the 2015 I began Stage 1 in a heat advisory. Knowing this stage of the race better than most I tried to go out strong, but leave something in the tank for stage 9, nicknamed the "frying pan". It's flat alright, but not a square inch of shade in the 1pm August heat for 9 miles of New Jersey's badlands. I ended up PR'ing my stage in an average sub 6 minute pace. 8 times and every time faster. I knew I had something left in the tank, but worried just how much. Later in the day, I raced the dreaded "frying pan" and PR'd. Nine miles in 93 degree sun with an average of 6:00/mile pace. I finished...and felt good! Which was a good thing, as one of my teammates was having a bad day and was unable to finish his stage. Some shuffling of team members, and FINALLY I was running something other than stages 1 & 9. This time the glory stage- 2.5 miles at 5:48 pace into the finish. I had started the day on a bridge over the Delaware River on the NJ/PA border and was now swimming in the Sea of Manasquan, NJ. Seventh place out of 124 teams. And I'll never run stages 1 or 9 again. (Until next year)


R2C had shown me that my current fitness level was better than I had thought. Now if I could continue training through the rest of the summer and improve just a slight bit I could set a new PR at the Liberty Half Marathon in Jersey City, NJ. Another stacked field and another men's open championship race meant a lot of young fast guys and $3000 in prize money left no delusion that I would be placing on the podium in this race. This was the site of my first half marathon in 2007, and then the site of my worst half marathon in 2008, when I vowed not to return. And I hadn't in 6 years. And just like R2C, here I was attempting a PR. The first 8 miles went by like clockwork. I stayed tucked in a nice pack and the strong winds weren't a factor, but as we headed onto the boardwalk of Liberty State Park after mile 8 the winds took a significant effort to try to stay on pace, and I slowly started to drift off the back of the pack. Before I knew it, I was completely alone for the next few miles, battling a fierce headwind that seemed to come from every angle. The fact that you make a 90 degree turn about 20 times in the last 3 miles was no help. I finally put a final surge with half mile to go and passed a small pack, only to have some of them take me in the final 50 meters to the finish. I still earned a new PR of 1:18:46 good enough for 5th place out of the 225 men in my age division.


And now, as I planned to do after the Lager Run, I get to take a little break with just some easy recovery miles...oh wait, the Ashenfelter 8K State Championship is only 6 weeks away.

2015 Boston Marathon Race Recap

A few years ago I sat down and wrote a "5 year Plan" of running goals I wanted to achieve. "Complete 5 consecutive Boston Marathons" topped my list. And just before 1pm Boston, MA time this past Monday I achieved my goal.

PRE RACE:

As I bounced back relatively quickly from a February injury, I was able to still get many quality weeks of training in and hoped to minimize any "lost" training time. There were certainly days in March and April when I questioned how much, if any fitness I lost during my weeks of cross training, and I think had it not been for the undesirable weather conditions this would have undoubtedly been another PR Marathon for me; but that is the nature of the marathon.  You train for over 4 months specifically for one day, and hope that on that one morning, all the stars will align and the weather gods will shine on you (but not shine too hot!) My last few weeks went by ideally, hitting all my targeted workouts, sometimes even faster and easier than I had planned. I skipped a tune up 20K five weeks out, as I was still unsure if that would push me back into an injury. With a few weeks to go I was sure of a PR, but just how much of a PR I didn't know. There was little room for error in my race plan.

On Sunday, April 19th I started my solo journey up to Boston. Just me, a cooler full of carbs and fluids, and some tunes on the radio. I'm not one for car magnets or stickers, but just before leaving I taped my previous 4 Boston 26.2 stickers to my rear car window. I always enjoy driving on the Mass Pike and seeing the other 26.2 stickers as we pass the exits for Hopkinton, Newton, the giant Citgo sign that marks "1 mile to go" and finally exiting near Boylston Street. As I got closer to Boston, I began seeing other cars with their oval stickers and honked my horn and waved, which most times was met with a look of confusion followed by amusement. The things you do on a solo 5 hour car ride to sane...After a quick visit to the crowded expo, I checked in at my hotel, un-packed, pinned my bib to my race uniform, ate more carbs, drank another couple of gallons of water, and walked/jogged around my hotel's parking lot when, before I knew it, it was time to go to bed.   

I checked the weather report one last time.  It called for a 40-45 degree day, overcast with a slight headwind, and a decent chance of rain as we were making our final descent into Boston. “Not bad,” I thought.  I'll tuck into a pack and draft a bit if the winds picked up, and all would be good.  After 9 marathons, I was excited to have a cool crisp forecast. The next day everything would change.

THE MORNING OF:

I had set my alarm for 4:45 am, and usually I sleep surprisingly well the night before a race, but at 3 am I was wide awake and tossing and turning.  Not before long, I was boarding the "T" towards Copley Square in the crisp morning sunrise. I always enjoy seeing the other runners slowly filling the cars along with all the locals on their way to work (Hey, I thought no one worked on Patriot's Day). It's a weird fashion show that combines last decade’s torn jackets and paint splattered sweatpants, with the newest and lightest (and brightest) racing flats. Throw on an unwanted race hat, and some dirty gardening gloves for that "been there, done that" look. Some choose to top off their ensemble with a banana and a bottle of Gatorade in hand, but let's face it, that just screams "first-timer" since all of that will be provided ad-nauseam in the athlete's village.  Now at this point you are in Boston, about 2 blocks from where the race ends. The funny thing is, you board one of hundreds of yellow school buses (whose windows will promptly fog because of all the well hydrated runners and the cool morning air) and get driven out 26.2 miles to the tiny town of Hopkinton where, you guessed it, you sit and wait to run the whole way back to Boston. Only the very last few miles are actually run in Boston, but I guess the “Hopkinton/Ashland/Framingham/Newton/Wellesley/Brookline Marathon” wouldn't have the same ring to it. 

Usually hanging out in the athletes village is one of my favorite mornings of the year. There's a special energy in the air, so I like to stroll around taking in all the sights and sounds, hydrating, and chatting with all the other runners - many who have traveled great distances for the honor of standing in this port-a-john line. But this year we all made a beeline to one of the three large white tents where we sat shoulder to shoulder wrapped in whatever we could find to keep ourselves dry and warm.  40 degrees with a light, steady rain and not knowing anyone around me, I began to think about just getting the race over with and beginning my long journey back home.  Definitely not the energy of previous years. Before long, Wave 1 was called to the starting corrals, which are about 0.7 miles from the village. By now the rain had tapered off, and the streets were barely wet. There was hope for good race conditions after all. By the time I got into my corral I had bumped into a few teammates, and was finally getting into the spirit of the day. 

THE RACE:

The elite men were introduced and announced over the PA. Meb Keflizighi was announced as "the only man who can ever lay claim to being the NYC Marathon champion, the Boston Marathon champion, and an Olympic marathon medal winner". And here I was, standing less than 100 feet away from him about to start the same race. Quite a feeling. 

The race began, and I tried to go out slow, which is not too hard being that you are literally running on a narrow suburban road with only one lane of traffic going in each direction, and no shoulder or sidewalk. By Mile 6, the initial descent (and the steepest downhill section of the race) was over. I was perfectly on target to race a 2:51 marathon, actually getting quite comfortable as my core temperature rose in the chilly morning air.  Soon the rain started, and it would not stop for the rest of the race. Next the winds picked up. What was advertised as a westbound headwind, in fact felt as though it was coming from every angle- except from the tail. As my jersey, shorts, hat, and gloves slowly became wet with perspiration, and spilled fluids from the hydration stations, my clothes felt heavy, the rain started picking up, and I began to feel colder and colder with every wind gust. There were two tactical choices: try to find a pack to draft off of, but who never seemed to run the tangents, or breakaway and run into the wind and take the tangents. After trying to tuck in and draft for the early miles I realized that no matter how close I am drafting, no matter many runner flank me, the wind was still a big part of the equation. 

By the middle of the race, I caught up to another runner I train with, and we matched each other step for step. We chatted a bit, maybe too much, as I slowly started to feel the tightness in my hamstrings and hips. The "Scream Tunnel" of Wellesley caught us slightly by surprise, but provided a refreshing burst of energy. If nothing more than getting your mind off the race and pain for a few minutes as you read all the signs, and watch the faces. By the halfway point I was perfectly on pace for a mid 2:51 finish, exactly what I was hoping for, if not a tiny bit fast. I was soon reminded of why I decided to wear my USA Olympic singlet once again this year as I started hearing chants of "USA, USA". Something I would have found quite corny a few years ago, but after the 2013 race, I don't know who liked hearing it more, me or the spectators themselves. Speaking of spectators, someone was holding up a pre-peeled banana, which I devoured, and partially attribute to the fact that for the first time in 10 marathons I finished not feeling like I hadn’t eaten in a week, Thank you banana woman, whoever you are. By mile 16, I was trailing my friend, only a few seconds behind, and still within striking distance, but feeling the cold rain tightening up my legs, and wishing I was closer to the finish. I was starting to just want to be done with this race.

The last and third part of the race started at roughly mile 16 with the first of the 4 Newton Hills. I feel the hills less and less every year, and have been affected by the undulating course less and less, although I still do enjoy the downhill breaks where my lungs and arms get a little break, while my quads are taking the brunt of the pounding. I was actually able to stay focused and knew when we were cresting heartbreak, unlike my first Boston when I kept asking other runners around me "Is this heartbreak hill?" on every hill (for the record it is the 4th and final hill). As you crest heartbreak you make a pretty steep decent down past Boston College, which is usually a nice psychological lift. In years past the crowds here were huge, and you could smell the beer in the air from half a mile away, but either the weather kept the crowds smaller this year, or I was too exhausted to feel any mental lift at this point. As we make our way into Boston you can usually see the giant Citgo sign , which unofficially marks the one mile to go mark, from about 3-4 miles away, but the low lying grey clouds and rain kept visibility low this year, meaning I actually didn't see the sign until the appropriate one mile to go mark. By this point I was hurting bad, and my pace had slipped to an overall average of 6:36 pace. One second behind my PR pace, but I was still convinced that I could bang out two hard last miles and get my PR by a sliver. If only I didn't add yet another second per mile, and slip into a 6:37 pace in the 25th mile, now hitting my first and only 7:00 mile. It was clear that today was not going to be a PR, but it wasn't going to be a total failure either. As I passed the 26 mile marker I gave it one last shot at a final 0.2 mile sprint at 6:25 pace. I crossed the finish line, no arms raised, passed on water, received the medal around my neck, and kept trying to move, until after refusing three medics, I got taken to the medical tent.

POST RACE: 

to be continued...