The Mile

I got into a strange debate at nyflygirl's b-day bash last night with a fellow flyer regarding the 5th Ave. mile. Two other of our teammates were also involved in our discussion but became silent during the forthcoming exchange. He simply stated that the mile and the marathon were the most difficult race distances to run. Seeing how blatantly rediculous the statement was, I tried to express my disagreement softly, by just mentioning that it really just depends on the person and where that person's strengths are. He retorted that he read it somewhere so it must be true (This statement in itself just seemed stupid, but I kept to the topic at hand). I pointed out that it might be true for that one writer/runner, but not necessarily true for others. Then he said he'd read in multiple places so it must be right. Recognizing that the debate wasn't about the distance anymore, and just about this guy wanting to be right, I poked fun, indicating that apparently this (nameless) writer had written multiple articles expressing his opinion. My fellow Flyer didn't see the humour and didn't let up. Determined to be right, he then said that even our assistant coach said that the mile and the marathon are the toughest distances to race, "so it has to be true." So at this point he had lined up two people that thought the same as him: a nameless writer who wasn't necessarily any type of expert on the subject, and our assistant coach who had conveniently left. I stopped there. The other flyers were quiet, and I wondered if they agreed with me or not. I wanted to keep going with poking holes in his arguement, but some people just lack the ability to see the point the other person is trying to make. Kind of like Right-wing Republicans. It seems strange that anyone could be so narrow-minded about such a topic -- something so based on individual ability. He really just wanted to hear, "OK dude, you're right. The mile and marathon are the most difficult races." Conversely, I just would've been happy if he had said "Well, I see you're point, in that there might be other race distances that some people find more difficult, but I really believe that those two distances are the most difficult."

The mile is of course a tough race, just as, but different from, the marathon. But in the same way, the 400m is also difficult race, and so is the 10k, 5k, 100m, half-marathon, etc. Not to mention Ultra-marathon distances. Every race takes a different kind of preparation, and a different strategy in execution.

That said, my mile this morning sucked, even though I set a P.R. for the distance. Two years ago, only six months after joining the competitive running community, I ran it in 6:10, and even at that time I felt I could've done better. Today, on my way back from injury and mildly hungover, I ran it in 6:08. My expectation was more like a sub-5:45, so I'm really disappointed. I have also been coming off a cold this week, so that could've factored in. On the way back on the subway, I had a coughing fit that just wouldn't quit, so that indicated to me that the cold wasn't quite gone yet. I was also late for my heat, so mentally I just wasn't focussed either.

Or maybe my Flyer pal was right. Maybe I just didn't know any better.


As for other things, my watch broke this morning while I was resetting my splits, so now I need to get a new one, which is a bummer. It also made me late for my heat this morning, as I tried to fix it before I left, and got there just about 30 secs after the gun. So I ran with the next age group. The watch thing is even more of a bummer, because I know I'll spend way too much time trying to decide whether I should step up my technology and invest in a HRM-GPS thingy or stick with a basic watch that just records splits. I'm not good with these kinds of decisions.

Also my microwave, which is still under warranty, stopped heating this week, so GE's sending someone by to look at it this week.

nyflygirl's party was a blast, and although I stayed out later than I expected, I also stayed sober enough to keep myself from leaving Manhattan, and eventually made it home in one piece. I saw nyflygirl get carted away, and it was apparent that she definitely enjoyed her transition into a new decade. (Whoa... you're how old now?!)

Really Freakin' Bored.

I went out Friday night, but the rest of the weekend, I had no plans. Normally I dream of weekends like this, but this one has just blown by with me merely observing it from afar. Usually I think: Wow, an unplanned weeked! I can catch up on work/go to a museum/hang out with friends/do some reading/see a movie/catch a band. Etcetera. But not this weekend. Not a god damned thing, except notice that Medley does nothing except sleep all day, and that seems like the most appealing idea around.

I'm in a funk, which is due to some personal life crap that my mind is picking at. This too shall pass, but it's a shame that I'm wasting a perfectly good weekend over it. I'm just really unmotivated. Yesterday I never left the apartment, and today had it not been for the run this morning, I probably still wouldn't have left. Now it's almost 2 PM and I don't know what to get up to.

But I should go out. It is New York City, after all. There's gotta be something to do outside this place.

Oh, and now it's raining. Sigh.

I would run one thousand miles...

Today I hit ten miles in my long run, and moved it from Monday to Sunday. I had to do some mathematical juggling to figure out the breakdown of miles between this past week and next week, since my week ends on Sunday nights, but I think I was successful. I saw at least three other Flyers in the park. One I had a pleasant, albeit brief discussion with about 5th Ave, Grete's, and Staten Island before moving on.

It was humid and my shirt was a size too large. Consequently, I got a wee chafed in front. No blood; just some burn. I don't usually chafe much, but my nips are my achilles heel, if that's not too anatomically confusing. Ouch, anyway.

Aside from being my longest run since the spring, the significance of today's run was that .2 miles into it I hit 1,000 miles for this year. I remember discussing this threshold with jbl last year, and thinking how cool it would be to adjust my mileage to hit a thousand right at the finish line of a race. If I were close enough, I could have done this with 5th avenue next weekend, but luck just wouldn't have it. Oh well.

And I would run one thousand more...

I had actually started this year thinking I could rack up 2,000 miles for the year, but apparently, since Satan decided to interfere with my training back in May, I'm not going to be able to do that either. Oh well, again.

One thing that hitting ten again made me remember is that long runs take a long time, and then coming back to the apartment, not surprisingly, I'm really tired. Post long run stretches are the most difficult things in the world to do for me. Once I sit down it's hard to get up again, and I admit that I was really slack today in my stretching.

Staten Island

As I had mentioned in an earlier post (I'm far too lazy to find it and link to it), I was thinking of doing a half in October, and it's basically come down to the 15th, as there aren't any local Halfs ("Halves"? Not sure on that one.) after that date, and that's pretty much the earliest I think I could do one with my present level of increasing mileage.

A friend invited me to stay at his "beach house" (it's really not even near the beach, but it's in the community) down the shore in Jersey, and do the Seaside Park Half that day. I hadn't responded to his invite, telling him that I was thinking about Staten Island as an alternative. Although Seaside Park is a flatter course, smaller field, and runs along the beach, Staten Island's the only borough I haven't done yet, so I kind of wanted to get it over with. And the fact that Seaside Park has a flatter course isn't that much of an issue, since I'm not at the level to set any PRs anyway. It would be nice to get out of the city, though.

However, because I'm so incredibly popular, another friend invited me to a party here in NYC on the evening of Saturday the 14th, and without thinking too much about it except that I'd like to go, I immediately said yes.

So I guess the decision is made. Since I'll be sticking around New York that weekend, I might as well hit the other island borough for the half. Hopefully I'll be able to restrain myself from going out too fast on this one. It's not like it's going to be another Queens for me. At least I'm glad that I have a race to look forward to now. I'm doing the 5th Ave. mile next week, but I've done it before, and one mile is hardly worth getting out of bed for.

Am I Crazy?

Don't answer that.

Alright, let me start by saying that I really like the new NYFlyers Fall Marathon shirt design for 2006. I don't know who designed it, but it's a nice layout, easy to read, and they fit in those four city icons very smartly. It sure beats the crap out of the shirt I designed for the JP Morgan Chase Corporate Challenge back in June, that's for sure (...and I'm a designer, too). Anyway, take a gander at the shirt if you haven't already seen it:



Now, the design is all well and good, but there's something that's been gnawing at me a bit since I first saw it. Is it supposed to go on the back of the shirt or the front? Does the Flyers logo go on the other side? The point I'm questioning is: If it's the New York Flyers Marathon shirt, why doesn't it have the words "New York Flyers" or "Marathon" anywhere on it?

Can someone please clarify this for me, so that I can be all embarassed that I missed something obvious here? I will shamefully delete this post, run away with my tail between my legs, and act like I never questioned the wisdom of the Flyers.

Then again, don't get me started on the Flyers' logo...

More about Medley

I don't have much to say today, so I thought I'd post about Medley. Here's a photo:



Medley is the only one on my blog who doesn't go under an alias of some sort. She doesn't try to hide who she is. A fine domestic shorthair; a tortie (tortoise shell) in colouring. Note the mottled orange on black. I swear she's got the blood of a tiger running through those viens!

I've had Medley for almost three years now. I had made a new year's resolution in 2004 to get a cat (I try to make three fairly manageable resolutions each year, but I'll save that discussion for another post). I got her from a shelter in West Orange, NJ on January 9th. Apparently, during the previous September, there was a guy in a supermarket parking lot with a box of four kittens, trying to give them away, and a woman from the local shelter picked them all up. At the shelter, they were named Peace, Hope, Faith and Charity (I know -- puke!). They all looked pretty much the same, they were all torties and subsequently were all females. I picked up Faith at first, but she was squirmy and didn't want me to hold her. Charity was just cool as a cucumber, laying down and kickin' back in the cage. I picked her up and she purred when I held her. That was good enough for me.

It took me two days to come up with a name for her. I wanted something to reflect her patchy colouring. An online thesaurus brought me loads of words, among them "mosiac," "puzzle," "mixture," and "medley." And that was that.

Anyway, she's been protecting me against rodents, bugs, and other vermin ever since. Note how, even in her seemingly relaxed state, her claws protrude slightly, ready to extend in defense or attack mode. Truly, she is a powerful force to be reckoned with in the apartment!

And c'mon - you have to admit she's also really cute!

Bye-bye Buck!

I bid my physiotherapist, Buck, a fond farewell tonight, after a paltry, but productive, 5 sessions. He instructed me on stretching at home, I asked him a couple questions about running shoes and yoga, and we embraced for a long, long time.

Okay, I made that last part up. I might have been tempted, though, if I weren't so damned heterosexual. He's such the GQ-esque young fellow. Instead, I told him that I quite honestly didn't ever want to see him ever again. Him or any other PT, that is. My next injury will be too soon, no matter when it happens.

Monday Group Run

Eight+ miles tonight with the Flyers. It was supposed to be just 7.75, but I just missed the subway at 96th street, so I ran up to 103rd, where I caught the next train just in the nick of time.

Good run, but I was running late from work and rushed to get to the start. One of my favourite english people was there, and I hadn't seen her in some time, so we ran together. Good to catch up. Luckily she was injured, so I could keep up with her. She was trying to pursuade me to write my blog more about dating, and she gave me some good advice on the topic, too.

Also met a brunette gal from Chicago. Next time out, maybe I'll get to chat some more. Glad your hip held out for your inaugural Flyers run.

A Canadian woman also attended tonight, trying to invade my Flyers territory. Sigh... I suppose there's enough room in the club for multiple northerners.

And my hip feels good. We'll see what Buck's got to say about it tomorrow.
Wish me luck with Buck!

A post full of awesome segues.

Good weekend - it really lifted my spirits from what was a crappy week last week. Friday I took the day off and did some clothes shopping. I don't remember the last time I shopped for clothes - feels like years ago. I spent a bundle, relatively speaking, but I thought I needed to treat myself after a lousy week.

Also to treat myself, I saw the movie Little Miss Sunshine. Very funny. For the most part, it was good intelligent humour. I think people built it up for me a little too much, though. I did think it was good, but I thought there would be something more to it.

While at the theatre, one of the previews shown was for the movie version of Augusten Burroughs's Running with Scissors. I liked the book, but didn't love it. I do, however, see how it could potentially be a hilarious movie, maybe even better than the book. Each time I read part of the book, it left me wanting to take a shower, but I suppose that was part of its charm.

On the subject of books, I just finished The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. Absolutely excellent; one of the best books I've read in quite a while. The story and characters drew me in so entirely, and I loved the way the plot played out. I very highly recommend it.

As for other stories, here's a personal one you'll like: Today I went to the Strand to buy a new (well, used) book. I had wanted to read it for some time, and had actually planned to save myself a few dollars and head to the public library to get it. However, all the copies are out and I figured by the time they get them in and my turn comes up in the queue for the book on hold for me, I could've read it already. So I searched the Strand site and they had two copies.

At lunch I popped by the store and found the copies. The only thing was - there was a hardcover for $12, and a paperback for $7. I examined them both. The hardcover was in slightly better condition than the paperback, but they were both pretty good. I could save myself five bucks on the paperback, and I've never been one for material goods anyway. After all, it *is* just a book, and it's the words that are the most important thing, right? But the hardcover *is* in slightly better condition. And I don't have many books, so why not just get the hardcover. So I put the paperback down and walk to the stairs to go upstairs to pay for it. But then I'm halfway up the stairs and look at the book in my hand and think: Hey, 5 bucks is 5 bucks. That's a sandwich for lunch, or a beer at the bar. I go back to the shelf and pick up the paperback. But geez, there's a slight fold in the back cover, and that might annoy me after a while. But there's a chance the book's going to get damaged somewhat in my bag if I'm hauling it around anyway. But the hardcover is just nicer, sooo okay, I make my decision., but down the paperback again, pay and leave, before I change my mind again. The punchline here is in the title of the book. The irony is obvious: A Paradox Of Choice: Why More is Less, by Barry Schwartz.

I already know all about the book, and feel like I've already read it, given the amount of references to it and excerpts of it that I've already seen, but I still want to read it. I'm also aware that at it's heart, it's not going to tell me anything I don't already know. However, (in case it isn't obvious from the above story) I especially have a difficult time with decisions, whether it involves my job, my relationships, or even what book I buy. Hopefully I'll learn something, though, and maybe it'll enlighten me a little about my own issues with regards to life and day-to-day choices.

I've been loving this trend in collective socio-psychology books like these that have been released recently: Gladwell's Blink and The Tipping Point, Gilbert's Stumbling on Happiness, Surowiecki's The Wisdom of Crowds, and Levitt and Dubner's Freakonomics, to name a few. Suggestions are welcome, if you feel you can contribute to my libray.

And speaking of contributions (yeah, that segue was reaching a bit), currently I'm typing while listening to a sweet new radio that I received from my buddy Ted, who had his apartment-warming on Saturday. This was the first time, I must say, that I actually left a housewarming with a gift. I came by early in the day and helped him set up for the shindig, which went pretty well. It was the usual suspects, for the most part, and good times all around.

Anyway(No segue here. I'm worn out), I've switched radio stations from FUV to NPR's live broadcast of the Concert for Peace at Merkin Hall. I so lack culture: Yo-Yo Ma is playing cello, and he's really the only artist who's name I recognise. Anyway, that's as close a reference to 9/11 as I'll make for today. I would much rather look ahead with hope and dreams than dwell on the nightmares I experienced years ago, both real and otherwise.

The music is excellent, by the way. Thanks for the tunes, Ted.

5K Fun

I did the Komen Race for the Cure today in Central Park with some friends. I didn't push myself and, well, with the ridiculous amount of people there, it was tough to get going anyway. So I kept it to more of a tempo-run pace, finishing at a net 21:45, which is a 7 minute pace. Didn't kill myself. I wouldn't really call it a "race", but more of a test to see how the ol' hip would hold up. It was fine.

But I must say, although I didn't push that hard, it was sooo nice to be in a race again. I really had a lot of fun, and that's the most important thing, regardless of finish time. And we went for brunch afterwards at City Grill, which was also awesome.

Splitting the difference; adding a day.

My running is coming along.

The hip felt a little creaky yesterday, which was the first time in a while that it felt that way. I attributed this to the good workout I got from Buck the PT on Tuesday. Today things felt fine again. I have to say, I absolutely hate doing all these stretches and exercises, but I have noticed a definite increase in flexibility. It's hard to do physiotherapy for fourteen weeks and not get more flexible.

Last week, I finished off with three days of running with a total of 16.9 miles. This week, if all goes according to plan, it'll be 18.7 (and that's a 10.65% increase, in case you're counting). My longest run so far this summer was Monday night, doing 7 miles with the Flyers. For the rest of the week, since my runs are all above 6 miles now, I split the difference and added a day. So this is how the week breaks down:

Monday: did 7.0 miles
Tonight: did 3.6
Friday: 4.0
Sunday: doing a 5k with a work colleague, plus an extra mile, for 4.1 total. Not planning to race it.

Next week I'll bring the long run up to 7.75 miles. Looks promising!

I'm back to looking at my goal of running a Half-marathon in Mid-October, which is reasonable if I continue to raise my weekly long runs at a 10% rate. Not going to push myself too hard, mind you, during the race, just a finisher, maybe a 1:45 or so. I'm not sure about which half I want to run. I have never done Staten Island, but that's the only appeal it would have for me. I've always wanted to do Liberty Waterfront in Jersey City, and that one's very flat, so while it might be a better one to come back on in recovery mode, it's a week early, so I don't think my mileage would be there yet. A friend of mine also has a beach house in NJ where I could stay and do the Seaside Park Half, which is also very flat, and same day as Staten Island, Oct. 15th. Trying to sell me on staying at a beach in October doesn't necessarily work, but it would be nice to get out of the city, and that race would have a very small field, so I'm thinking seriously about it. I'm also thinking about running the NYC Marathon as a Half, and then dropping out. Would I get my Half split time if I crossed the mat on the Pulaski Bridge, but didn't finish the race?

In the meantime, the only real race I have on the agenda is the Fifth Avenue Mile. I haven't run this since 2004, and it wouldn't be out of the question to get a PR in it. I wasn't as fast back then as I am now, even with the injury.

Anyway, all this is speculative, assuming no flare-ups of the hip injury. You gotta have hope, right?

Medley the Mighty.

Medley's proved that she's worth her weight in gold. Mind you, if that were really true, I'd had taken all twelve pounds of her to the jeweler, got the cash, and picked up another, albeit lazier cat from a shelter. Unless she was laying golden eggs. I'm cold-hearted, but not stupid.

As it is, Medley actually demonstrated her worth to me back in July, on the first morning in the new apartment. Stepping out of the shower, she had set down a big cockroach offering on the floor in front of me. Nice. I imagined that had it been a mouse, Medley would have killed it quickly. But with all that cockroach body armor, of course the thing was still alive, and each time she'd put it down it would try to scurry away, and she'd pounce on it again. Finally, I got the Raid and something with which to grab it, executed the thing, and flushed it away.

Thankfully, I haven't had many pests since. That is, until last night. It was about 1:30 AM and I was on the computer when I heard a BANG! over in the corner of the apartment. Medley was hammering away at the baseboard heater. I figured she was just playing extra-violently with one of her toys, and ignored it. A few seconds later, BANG! again!, and I got up thinking this is getting a little to violent to be just a toy. She was way to serious now. And I was right. She trotted over with a mouthful of prey and I though Man, not another roach. But I was wrong. She dropped it in front of me.

I know of a few other people that have had mice in New York, like her, him, and her. The process usually involves seeing a mouse or evidence of, running out to get a trap, trapping said mouse at one point over the next couple of days, and thus ridding said mouse from apartment, usually with terrible guilt involved over contributing to the death of another mammal. I guess as human-mammals, we filled our quota long ago with killing, and now I feel kinda bad if I have to kill other types of animals -- mammals particularly. However, in the natural scheme of things, cat killing mouse somehow seems okay with me, and adding this third party (cat) to the equation to rid me of any potential guilt is a pretty good solution. And so it was that Medley dropped in front of me a still-twitching mouse, barely still in one piece. The only thing I could think was: Ick, why can't you just eat it, like cats are supposed to?

Oh well. I did appreciate the fact that I didn't have to fret over having a rodent in my apartment. I cleaned the mouse blood and mouse innards off the floor, put the dead vermin in a plastic bag, and threw it outside in the garbage. When I came inside, I fed Medley, brushed her a bit, and went to bed. Medley sleeps on the left side, by the way.