Weekly Log 21-Jan to 27-Jan-2019: Wild Weather Swings, College Sports History, and another Indoor Meet

Another week gone by, which means another blog post.  Aren't you excited?  :)  As long as I write a short blurb each day, it's easy for me to write and post on a timely basis, and I can include details that I otherwise quickly forget.

Monday:  10
Frigid MLK Day run with Matthew and Chris, followed by catching up with injured Mikey and Tommy 5K at Dave's Coffee.  I hadn't seen Mike in about a month, so I'm glad he reached out to me to get together.  Hopefully he's back into more running soon, as well as T5K.

On my way out the door for the short drive to Burlingame:
FRIGID!

The run itself was 1F (yes, only one degree) and 3F at the finish.  The high for the day in Westerly was 6F, which I heard on the news later was the coldest day overall in RI since 1994.  25 years!  Those that know me well know that I tend to dress on the lighter side (think comfortable in shorts at 18 degrees last weekend), but this one I was concerned about and dressed much heavier today (two layers on bottom, two on top, thick hat and gloves, wool socks that Boston Marathon '57 winner John Kelley picked out for me, Gortex running shoes).  It did the trick as other than a little bit cold in finger tips in the first mile, I was warm the whole way.  On his Strava posting, Chris would later write, "worst I've felt on a run in a long time"; I was aware of the added breathing complexity from his balaclava, but hopefully whatever else ailed him is short lived.

Ice in the beard.

Nanook of the North

Tuesday:  7
Another single-digit morning when I woke up.  By the time I went out for a run at 4pm, the temp had risen all the way to 22 degrees!  Ran three different Pumpkins loops today:  1) the first loop of 8K (XC course), 2) the second loop of 8K (Hansel & Gretel), 3) the first loop of 8K in reverse.  I was annoyed by the frozen ruts from bikers, but forgot about it when the two bikers I did see out there were friendly and joking that I was running faster than they were riding.

Wednesday:  10
Three tough trail runs:
7AM:  Hale Reservation, Dover, MA.  5 miles.  Ice-encrusted snow, attacked with Yak-Trax.  Hard work and slow going.

My Yak-Trax Run (carbite bits up front, coils in back)
would save the day for me.

Without Yak-Trax (or some other suitable traction device),
even the short road section I was on would have been a nightmare.
With the Yak-Trax, it was actually kind of easy to run right across sections
of solid ice like this.

Beautiful out there today!

3PM:  Big River.  0.3 miles.  Solid ice, which I can navigate with the Yak-Trax Run, but with frozen footprints all over the place, it was just a miserable mess.  Bailed.

4PM:  Baker Pines.  5 miles.  Ran out on North-South Trail, back on Arcadia Trail.  Just ten miles south of Big River, but much, much more runnable.  Unfortunately, I found out the hard way that the trails were not COMPLETELY ice-free, as early on I slid in a boulder field and banged my shin into one of the boulders.  A classic move for me.

Crashed and burned early on in run.
Thankfully, no major issue or pain.

I fell somewhere on the trail through this boulder field.
Hard to believe anyone could fall here, right?  :)

Crossing partially frozen rivers like this were really tough,
especially as getting dark, because the rivers were frozen
over, you had to get across, but yet you couldn't tell
where the ice was safe and where it wasn't.

Thursday:  8
Awoke to strong wind gusts, and opted to postpone my open road long run a day and sleep in.  Went out for a Noontime run at B-game instead.  Downpour, 30+ mph winds, which I knew about beforehand, but it was also 51 degrees and I got to wear short sleeves for the first time in ... well, so long ago I don't remember.

What I DIDN'T count on was black ice.  I was bombing straight through a deep puddle, when I slid on ice I felt underfoot, but could not see and did not expect in today's warm temperatures.  In that split second, I just knew this wasn't going to end well.  Went into the air, and landed hard back into that same puddle and black ice on my back, slamming my right forearm and jamming my thumb into the sheet of ice.  Dang, that hurt (it still hurts as of writing this evening, as does the chafing in groin - don't worry, no pics of the latter.)

Pretty gross, eh?
By the time I finished, despite 51 degrees,
you can see goosebumps as I was drenched and
feeling cold.  

Friday:  20!
I set the alarm for 4:50am, and pressed the snooze button not once, but twice.  Between snooze resets, I was envisioning excuses in my mind and formulating shorter less-time consuming (and much less distance) routes, as I really didn't want to get up in the dark.  My arm still hurts from yesterday (above), it's too dark, there might be ice on the road and I'll fall again, it's too close to Sunday's planned race to be running long, my chafing hasn't healed enough yet to run, etc., etc.  There are a myriad of unfounded excuses I was quickly preparing, but somehow, when the alarm went off for the THIRD time (how absurd, right?) at 5:08am, I got my lazy fat a$$ out of bed and got moving.

That was the hardest part!!  Once out the door, the weather was agreeable (30 degrees, clear skies, almost no wind) and there really was no issue.  There were very few cars on the road, and as I've turned into a safety running fanatic over the past few years, I had on my new fluorescent WTAC winter hat, neon green quarter-zip, and pulsating front and rear headlamps.  I'll never win any fashion awards, but hopefully these will ensure that I'm visible to motorists.

The miles went by pretty quickly, I ran a comfortable pace of mid-7s, and despite some soreness and discomfort from the previous two day's trail injuries, once I stepped out the door there never was any doubt that I would finish twenty.  Mind over matter, and I'm so happy that somehow I didn't cave and sleep in.

Saturday:  6
Body is feeling it today.  Guessing partly due to yesterday's long run, and partly due to still feeling the physical effects of the two trail spills from Wednesday and Thursday.  Regardless of the cause, with a planned race tomorrow, prudence dictates taking it easy today.  REALLY easy.

Went to Ninigret Park and ran 8+ minute pace on grass fields, trails, and even a portion of the Chili 5K already partially marked for this afternoon's race.

Afterwards, drove up to University of New Hampshire to watch Matthew's final home indoor meet of the season.  In between events, I walked around the fieldhouse hallways taking in the really incredible display they have of every varsity athletic team* they have fielded from 1894 to the present.  (*I also learned the only year they did not field any athletic teams was in 1944, as it was at the height of World War II.  Interesting fact!).    I truly found this collage to be fascinating.  Do most colleges do this?  Anyhow, a select few that especially caught my eye:

The first year of track at UNH.  I bet those uniforms were abrasive.
Apparently, you weren't allowed to smile back then.

What on earth is the sport of "Numeral Women"?!!!
Of course I WAS in college in 1929, but we didn't have this varsity sport
at my school.
I'm curious what this is.  If you're going to "cheat" and Google this,
before you do so, at least give it an educated or even whimsical guess
in your response as well.

Can't recall the sport of "Pepcats" either, but the participants in the 1951
Pepcats team seem happier than the 1929 Numeral Women team.
Maybe because it's coed, and the guy in front is being touched by two women?
Would that be allowed today?

I was really shy about asking any girls out in my high school/college days,
but I'm certain I would not have had the cojones to ask any woman out that
was on the rifle team!  (1939 team pictured here)
---------------
The response to my proposition would have been, "Sure, Jeff,
I'll meet you out in the woods.  I'll even give you a 50-yard head start before I start shooting."
  Yikes.  No rifle women for me.

Now, moving in to the modern era (2009 team pictured above), I was pleasantly
surprised to learn that UNH fields both a nordic ski team AND alpine ski team.
How much fun would either of those be?!!
---------
Can anyone identify that hotel in the background.  Yeah, too easy, right?

If you're one of the few regular readers of my blog, you've perhaps read more than once about how one of my life regrets (Monday morning quarterback here) is playing varsity soccer in high school instead of cross country.  What else would I do differently (with regards to organized sports only; otherwise, the list would drag on)?    It's settled:  when I'm reincarnated, for my next life, as a student/athlete at the University of New Hampshire, here are the sports I will play:

• Fall:  Cross Country
• Winter:  Nordic Ski
• Spring:  Numeral Women

Sunday:  8
A month ago, I had my first foray to indoor track racing, running a 10:18 in the 3K at a BU Mini Meet.  Apparently I have short term memory, as this week, I signed up for a second indoor race:  USATF East Region and New England Masters Indoor Track & Field Athletic Championships.

Two remarks on that name:

1. Is that the friggin' longest name you ever heard of for a race?
2. The word "championships" seems a bit of a misnomer to me, as 1) the field was much more stacked at BU, and 2) there's nothing you need to do to qualify except be age 30 or over.

So I signed up for the 5K.  Tried to drag Chris along to have another local WTAC runner, but he had some lame excuse of suddenly losing 70 pounds to a stomach virus.  Or was it 7 pounds?  Seriously, hopefully we'll drag him and maybe some others for a future track race.

When I arrived, it was quickly obvious that the number and depth of runners would be much less here than at BU.  A few runners came up to me with comments like "Um, do you realize this isn't a trail race?".  Yeah, point taken, funny.  Warmed up with fellow trail runner Kenny Shardlow and track runner Scott Grandfield, and got ready to go.  Ambling over to the start, I ran into Dave Principe, who told me he said to Bob Jackman that he saw Jeff Walker in the signup list, and supposedly Jackman said, "No, that guy's a trail runner."

The start:  16 of us toed the line.  I was seeded 5th (as opposed to seeded 80-something at BU!).  I knew full well that this would be 25 laps around the oval, but somehow seeing the big "25" on the laps to go countdown sign was all of a sudden intimidating to me.  The gun went off, and it was time to focus.  The first lap, or at least the first 100 meters, was pretty chaotic to me, with runners in every lane, and trying to figure out my place.  Coming in to the end of the first lap, four of us runners had kind of settled into a pack of single-file runners, with Dave Principe doing the work and leading us.

Consistent pack run:  And so the first 2K (first ten laps) would go:  single-file, pack of 4, Principe leading us.  Kudos to Dave for pulling off lap after lap of consistent splits of 41 seconds (see splits below).  As at BU, there were times when I needed to work to stay with the pack, but having this format and someone doing the work made it "easy" for me.

Falling apart on my own:  I don't remember approving this next stunt, but unfortunately, with ten laps in, the guy in 2nd (2nd in our pack, not overall) pulled ahead of Principe.  It's hard to tell, but it seemed that Principe responded, but didn't catch up.  The 3rd guy (guy right ahead of me) also broke apart from our cozy pack, so now all four of us split up our own ways.  Damn - that wasn't in the plans.  Now what I do?  It was a struggle fest for me for the remaining 3K:

200m splits:

• Kilometer 1:  41, 41, 40, 40, 41
• Kilometer 2:  42, 41, 41, 41, 41
• Kilometer 3:  42, 42, 43, 43, 43
• Kilometer 4:  44, 44, 44, 44, 43
• Kilometer 5:  44, 45, 45, 45, 44

The ugly finish:  As you can see from my splits above, I just kept getting progressively slower, especially after 2K.  By the final kilometer, I had lost all track of where Principe was, how many laps I had left, etc.  The final two laps were especially ugly with rookie mistakes, as with two laps to go I stepped one foot onto the metal divider and was afraid I was just going to tumble over it and be DQ'd, and then with one lap to go, I crossed the finish line, slowed almost to a stop, asked the official if I was done, and she said, "No, one more to go.".  Ugh.  Picked up to finish one lap.  I'm glad no one took pictures, as it likely would have shown me with arms flailing, stooped over, head to one side, and drooling on myself.

My official results:  17:58.28
I asked one of the officials how the above age-grading works,
and was told that based on my [advanced] age and stats on age-related running deterioration,
that converts to a 16:05 if I were running in the open (15-29) age group.

Pros:

• To start with, I actually came out for another indoor race and got it done.  As Dave Principe said to me later about indoor track in general, "I didn't hate it as much as I thought I would".  Yeah, I can really relate to that sentiment.
• I seeded myself at 18-flat and accomplished that by running 17:58.  That's my fastest 5K in more than three years, and I'm told I would likely run faster on a banked track (I don't appreciate those nuances of different tracks yet).
• I am very happy that Dave Principe was in the race.  Otherwise, I really didn't know anyone around me, and I still have no idea how to pace at these things.
• Having been to PCTA many times as a spectator, it was good to go to one as a competitor and see that through a runner's eyes.
• White Electric Coffee, just a short walk from PCTA.  Went there post race for a "special turkey" sandwich and an iced mocha for the ride home.  It did not disappoint.
• As always, catching up with other runners I know:  Scott Grandfield, Kenny Shardlow, Scott Mason, Leslie, Jackie, Principe, Jackman, and Brightman.

Cons:

• Obviously, progressively slowing during the final 3K of the race was disappointing.  I could feel it and I knew I was falling apart, with the only silver lining that I thought was slowing even more than the 2-4 seconds per lap that I actually was.
• Unlike at BU where I never lapped anyone and never got lapped, starting at lap 4, I was running in lane 2 to lap other runners seemingly constantly and got also lapped by two runners (one double-lapped me).  Thus, towards the end of the race, I stopped looking at the lap counter as it didn't apply to me and was confusing me.
• Similar to at BU, my cool-down was on some pretty lousy streets and sidewalks, and I got jeered by some sketchy locals.  (I guess it's pretty unrealistic, though, to expect nice rural roads or paths to run on adjacent to an indoor track as those masters or open indoor races are probably always in cities around here?)
• That dry air is just horrible.  Even before halfway through the race, I just felt "cotton mouth".  Was parched post race, and still have some residual dry hack as I write this ten hours post-race.

Seemingly representation from runners from every NE state,
plus a few surrounding

View of the PCTA track
(start of mens' 3K)

Full results

Weekly mileage:  70

Weekly synopsis:  Just a month ago, a weekly mileage of 70+  from me would have been followed by multiple exclamation marks after the number.  Now, it's more like, "Another week where I hit 70 miles.  Not bad.".  If that sounds pompous, I don't mean it that way at all, and I realize the number of miles run is unique to each individual, their training, injuries, etc.  It's just to me that I'm having a really good streak of running and mileage lately, and after a disheartening 2018, I am quite happy about that!

Weekly highlight:  The snow run at Hale Reservation.  Thus far I've had very little opportunity this winter to run on snow, and I do enjoy getting out there in the snow.

Weekly lowlight:  Thursday's fall.  Wednesday's shin crash was pretty minor.  Thursday's fall still hurts a bit three days later, and I was embarrassed at work that afternoon when someone had to point out to me that my dress shirt sleeve was soaked in wet blood and asked if I was OK and what happened.  I told just enough of the truth (I slipped on ice, and just need to clean up) to dodge and abruptly end the well-intended questioning.  Had I explained the situation of running through the woods and crossing cold streams in a rain and wind storm in January during my lunch hour, I probably would have been referred for a psychiatric evaluation.