Common wisdom holds that running has a cathartic effect.  It’s supposed to free your mind, at least temporarily, from the daily pressures of life.  I don’t know if that has really worked for me over the past couple of months.  In fact, my pressures and worries often come out when I run.  You can hear me yelling to myself every time a negative thought passes through my brain. I guess part of the problem is that I haven’t run regularly.  You need to do it on a regular basis in order for the running itself to feel good.  Maybe I just need to start running so long that by the time I am done every negative thought held in my brain passes out of my mouth, being left in the gutter behind me.

I wish there was a dial installed on the body that would allow you to better regulate the amount of depression or anxiety you feel.  If you ever needed to get it adjusted, it would just be a matter of going down to your local service center and tell them that you are feeling a bit too depressed and have them manually crank the setting down.  It is like the chemical inside your body that causes you to feel depressed knows of only two positions; off and full blast.  It would be nice if you could objectively look at two people and quantify how much depression they should feel; say on a scale of 1 – 10.  Then the person’s level could be set accordingly.  However, that is not how it works.  I think that a person who circumstances warrant a level 5 situational depression feels just as bad as a person with a level 10 situational depression.  It doesn’t matter that one situation isn’t nearly as bad as another, both people feel just as bad.

One thing that has helped keep me going has been my runs with @Aristorat.  He has been going through his own trials and tribulations with the illness of his wife and my friend Kathleen, so we haven’t gotten out as regularly as we had just over a short month ago.  @Aristorat gets out when he can and usually gives me a call to join him.  As I am out of work right now, we have managed to go out for several runs during times when I’ve never had a chance to run before.  It has helped to add structure to my day and has given me a chance to unload some of what I have been going through to another person. 

Right now I need to focus on moving forward and not getting stuck.  I know the things I have to do and I have to push myself to do them.  I am finding it difficult, but I do not have a choice.  No one ever said that life was going to be easy.  Hopefully, once I get going again, life will become like those days when you run effortlessly and can just go on forever.

So today’s plan to run the Bronx Half Marathon and then run back home to Brooklyn didn’t work out so well.   I was really looking forward to this run for several reasons; it would give me another qualifier for next year’s NYC Marathon, I’d get a really cool and interesting run it and I would hopefully finally get in all 5 of the NYRR Half Marathons run in the boroughs of NYC.

My plan was to run the BHM with a fellow member of my triathlon club, who answered an email I had posted looking for a running partner to do the BHM and then run back into Manhattan. I really didn’t want to run all of that distance by myself (about 35 planned miles) so I was very happy for a response. I exchanged cell numbers with M and we arranged to meet the morning of the race.

We started out the race and a nice and easy pace, but at about two miles into the event, M started to slow down and needed to stop.  She started to develop chest pains and needed to sit down.  She refused medical care and said that she just needed to rest for a while.  It took about 10 minutes or so, but after that she seemed ok and wanted to go on.  By now we were very back of the pack and saw the leader of the race coming back the opposite direction on the course.  We then continued on for another mile or so when M started to slow down again.  The pace became just a fast walk for me and I wasn’t sure what I should do.  I didn’t want to leave her to run a faster pace, but I couldn’t run this slowly for long.

Turns out that she was developing chest pains again and this time she wanted an ambulance.  I flagged down a police officer who called in an ambulance for us.  The ambulance took her to the hospital and I got a lift back to the baggage check location by the police officer so I could get M’s jacket which contained her identification, money and cell phone.  She didn’t know anyone’s number without her phone so I couldn’t give them a head’s up as to what was going on until I went to retrieve it.

Unfortunately, I didn’t know what her jacket looked like.  In fact, I thought I was looking for a backpack and not a jacket.  I got a couple of volunteers and we started to look for her jacket (which I didn’t know what it looked like), among 5000 other bags.  The only clue as to the location of the bag was based on the last number of her race number. There were numbers from 1 – 10 and you were supposed to put your belongings based on the last number of your bib.  Again unfortunately, she placed her bag (jacket) based on the first number of her bib, so I was on a wild goose chase for a while.  Eventually I found it and I ran with it to the hospital where and found her resting in the ER.

Once we had her phone, I called her sister to tell her what happened.  I was hoping she would take charge and come to the hospital right away, but it sounded like I was inconveniencing her.  I would leave the ER every 20 minutes or so to give her an update and each time I did M’s sister and her mother were no closer to leaving for the hospital than when I first called.

Eventually it got to be around noon and I had to leave.  I still wanted to run and my internal clock for running was expiring at 3pm.  I left as M was being taken for X-rays and began my long run back to Brooklyn.  I felt bad about leaving.  I felt like I should have stayed but I had commitments in the afternoon.  I was feeling really guilty when I left, but I couldn’t figure out what my obligation was to someone I had just met.

To be honest, I wasn’t really in the mood to run at this point.  I felt like I should have stayed with M and all the standing around all morning kind of took my desire away to run.  I really just wanted to be home to play with my children in the warm weather.  However, I knew I needed to run, so I just decided to keep going and see how far I could get before it was time to bail out and take the subway home.  I managed to get from 210^th Street and Gun Hill Road in the Bronx to 96^th and Lexington before I finally called it a day – a run of 8.3 miles, plus a little over 4 from the start of the BHM for a total of 12 miles on the day.

Once I got home it was time for errands.  I took my son to a birthday party, picked him up later, picked up my father’s urn from the funeral home, made dinner for my kids, took out the trash and cleaned up the house.  I stopped short of doing laundry as I just wanted to kick back and relax for a while.  Now I am going to post this entry and think about what type of run I’ll do next week.

P.S.  M called a little while ago and says she is doing ok.  They checked her into the hospital for observation, but she is resting comfortably and is with her family.

My father has been dead for a week and I still haven’t had a good cry over it.  I think my emotions are stuck inside me and are waiting to come out at some unsuspecting time.  I did get choked up this morning when I saw a family portrait of him when he was a baby, but that is as far as I’ve gotten.  I think it will be something small that finally gets to me.

Dad and me at Ironman Lake Placid Finish line

Anyway, last week was a light week as far as running goes.  I had family obligations for most of the week and truthfully I didn’t feel much like running.  My heart just wasn’t into it.  That better change by the time next Sunday rolls around because the plan is to run the Manhattan Half Marathon which will be sandwiched by a 13 mile run to the start and a 13 mile run home.  It will be the first of my long training runs for the Vermont 100 miler.

One of the things I must do before this summer arrives is to lose some weight.  I seem to be packing on the pounds.  I can’t help myself but eat and drink.  I do not like the way I am looking or feeling, but I suspect I am reaching a tipping point soon where I will get back on my diet and training program.  It’s either that or I will be forced to buy a new wardrobe as all of my clothes are starting to fit tight on me.

Snowman!!!

I know of no words that can adequately describe my father.  I fear that any attempt by me to do so would leave us all wanting.  Simply put, my Dad was larger than life, the life of the party and the strongest person I’ve ever known.  I love him dearly and he will be in my heart and mind forever as I know he will be in all of yours.

How do you say good-bye to someone you weren’t ready to let go?  It’s not fair that he’s gone and he went away so quickly, seemingly without warning. I didn’t get a chance to say all the things I wanted to, to tell him how proud of him I was, how fortunate I was to have him as a father, how much I learned about parenting from him and more. 

We all inherit and learn certain characteristics from our parents.  The thing that I inherited most from him was his perseverance and his excellent driving skills.  The man knew how to stick through anything and could make it through the most difficult of times.  He always stayed the course, and with unwavering love and compassion, he could make it through anything.  I’ve often thought of him when times in my life got tough and I asked myself what would my father do? 

Dad was never an endurance athlete like I am, but I have no doubt he would have made a great one.  I think of him if I want to stop during a race and the words of encouragement he would give me if he were by my side.  He has been there for me during times that he has never known and will continue to be there for me throughout the rest of my life.  My father lives on inside me as he does in many of us.

Through thick and thin, good times and bad, my father always had a smile, maintained an upbeat word and always had something good to say to everyone around him.  His personality was infectious and everyone loved him.  As I’ve spoken to friends and family over the last couple of days, the reaction has all been the same, they are without words to describe how great a man my father was and how profound a loss his passing is to us.

Dad always stood by his children’s sides – even when we disappointed or made him angry – he could not stay that way for long.  Nothing tells of his capacity to forgive and forget like he was able to do after the numerous car accidents that I had.

As much as I loved my father and he loved me, in many ways my father remained very much a mystery to me.  I could never figure out how he always remained so happy and content.  Oftentimes I would hear the best stories from my father when he was around other people.  Once he had an audience he would keep them enraptured of tales from when he was a kid or stories of collecting debts while he worked at Chase Manhattan Bank.  I would love to hear these stories as he told them and did get somewhat jealous that they would only come out when he had an audience. 

Dad wanted what he wanted and usually got his way.  I guess collecting debt for 40 years makes a person good at that.  He could be very impatient, which is another trait that I inherited from him. I must say it’s not entirely unwelcome as I consider it a virtue.  He had a profound love for the sun and would tan himself incessantly.  Two times that make me laugh the most in this regards was the time he was in the hospital to have a procedure done and insisted that Laurie bring him his sun lamp.  I can still imagine the conversation that ensued when the nurses walked into his room and saw him sunning himself. 

Dad could combine his impatience and love for the sun.  No better time was that than when Rita and I wanted to ride our bicycles from Miami to Key West, and he needed to drive us down to Miami from Boca Raton after Steven’s wedding.  Dad was so impatient to get to Miami Beach that he literally ditched us on the side of the road about 30 miles north of where we wanted to be.  He told us that we were crazy, but I know deep down he was proud of us for doing such an endeavor.  I know so because I would always hear second-hand from family friends and relatives how proud he was of my exploits.

Time inexorably moves forward, and over the course of time, our relationship changed.  I’ve been very fortunate over the last several years that we have grown closer and confided more in each other.  We started going to ballgames together, and Dad would accompany me to far away races that I would do.  I’ll never forget seeing his face cheering me on during Escape from Alcatraz in San Francisco or the look of concern on his face when I was late for finishing one of my Ironman Lake Placid races.

I’m sorry, Dad, for not always taking your advice. Sorry for giving you trouble (especially for wrecking all those cars), for fighting with you and challenging you, but that’s the way it is with fathers and sons, and I know you understand that. I know you know that I love you and will help take care of Laurie and the family just like you’d do and want me to do.

The first of the year dawned cold and windy.  It was 17 degrees, but that didn’t stop my friend Larry and I from doing our annual 1^st day of the year run.  We had a pleasant two loops of Prospect Park to ourselves as it appeared that the cold, previous evening’s festivities or combination thereof kept almost everyone out of the park.  I don’t think we passed more than 5 other runners. 

After the run we went home to get ready for the annual Coney Island Polar Bear Dip into the Atlantic Ocean.  This was without a doubt the highlight of my day, specifically because my 8 year old son decided to come with me and take a dip into the ocean as well.  I can’t express how proud I am of my little man.  It was 17 degrees outside and the water temperature was in the low 40’s and the kid tore off his clothes and dragged me into the water.  He was excited, laughing and had eyes shining bright with excitement.

The place was a mob scene and it was difficult to make our way through the crowd into the water.  We ran in holding hands and with adrenaline flowing.  I looked at my son and asked if he was ready to dunk himself.  He shook his head yes and then on the count of 3 we dunked our heads below the surface of the water.  It was bone chilling cold, so we didn’t hang around and started to run back to our blankets.

The crowd was even thicker at this point and we had a tough time finding our blanket.  To make matters worse, I wasn’t wearing my glasses, so I could see hardly anything.  I felt bad as I could tell my son was really cold and wanted his towel.  We probably found it within a minute, but it certainly felt longer.  Both our hands and feet were really cold and it was a struggle to get him dressed.  I had hand and toe warmers and I put them in his gloves and shoes to help warm him up.

Fortunately, while at the beach I met up with @brujitalinda.  She was there with a friend who wasn’t doing the dup and was kind enough to take pictures of me and my son on the beach.    @brujitalinda looked stunning in her bikini and was adorned with her New Year’s resolutions written on her body.  Perhaps next year I will do the same.

 On the way home from the beach, my son rested in the back seat, laying down across it with his cold feet pressed against the bare flesh of my stomach.  They were nice and cold and he found it infinitely amusing as I complained about his cold feet pressing against me.  When we got home, we both took warm baths and then went back out to Larry’s house for post Dip festivities.  We drank his wife’s delicious Hot Toddies and equally delicious Chili.  All totaled it was a great start for the New Year.

So 2008 was not one of my best years.  It started out well training wise, but by March I was completely hobbled with stress fractures in both legs.  I missed most of my races (what a waste of money) and gained a lot of weight and lost almost all of my fitness.  I came as close to the edge of giving up training completely as one could get, but somehow pulled myself back from this precipice.  Major credit for me not giving up completely goes to my friend Larry.  He serves as an inspiration and trained with me all through the fall.  Without his influence and training companionship I wouldn’t have been able to prepare myself for the NYC Marathon and the JFK 50 Miler.  By the end of 2008 I ran over 1000 miles and set my focus on doing the Vermont 100 miler in 2009.

This year should be better.   To start the year off right, I am going to make some resolutions…

In no particular order my 2009 New Year’s Resolutions are:

1.       Do 100 Pushups and Sit Ups every day.

2.       Keep better track of my finances.

3.       Be a better father.

4.       Stretch regularly.

5.       Read with my children every day.

6.       Stay injury free

I’ve been training well in the month since the JFK 50 miler.  I’ve been feeling well and looking forward to getting in a workout.  I’ve only taken one day off since I restarted training after the 50M and I felt awful for doing so.  I probably needed the rest, but mentally I prefer to train instead of resting.  I guess those are two good signs; I’m eager to train, but taking a rest when I should.

Over the past few weeks I did two races with my son.  One was a 3M cross country race through Prospect Park last weekend and another was a 3.4 mile loop around Prospect Park today.  My son was eager to do both races.  In fact he was over eager as he went out too hard in both and got a bad cramp.  He fought through the cramp though and finished each race.  He was very proud of himself for doing so and so was I.  My son even said that he would start coming out with me to train now and then.  Hopefully I could get him to come out regularly and get him in shape.

After today’s race, I called up my usual running partner and we set out for what we called the Parkway to Expressway run.  It consisted of running down through Prospect Park, out onto Ocean Parkway, down Bay Parkway to the bay and then along Shore Parkway to where it exits near the Gowanus Expressway.  We then ran down 2^nd Avenue to head back towards home.  It was along this section that Larry might have even saved me as I tripped over something embedded in the road and almost took a really nasty spill into oncoming traffic.  At the last second before I feel, Larry caught my arm and kept me from going down.  The roadbed consisted of cobblestones which had old railroad tracks embedded in it.  If I went down it would have been very ugly.

We made it home without incident after that.  We ran a total of 14.3 miles in an elapsed time of 2:20.  A little slow, but that counted all the time we were stopped for traffic lights, etc. 

I checked my training log after today’s run and I saw that I need 52 more miles to break 1000 for this year.  Fortunately, I still have time to make that milestone.  It will suck to miss breaking 1000 miles by so short of a distance.

With the conclusion of this weekend I am on a streak of 13 straight days of training.  All of them have been pretty good.  Not one session did I want to back off or did I have to struggle to complete the workout.  If anything I wanted more.  Mentally, I am ready for more; I just hope my shins are up to the task.

Today I worked out twice.  The first session was an easy 3.4 mile cross country race that I did with my son.  This was the second year in a row that my son came out to do this race with me.  He was a trooper today.   It was very cold and windy outside, but that didn’t deter him.  He also kept on going after he developed a bad cramp in his side.  It looks as though it hurt so bad at times that he wanted to cry.  I asked him if he wanted to stop, but he refused to quit the race.  He was insistent on not being the last person to finish.  He must have felt very good when he finished, because he kept talking about doing another race that is coming up next weekend.  I am hoping he will still want to do it when the day arrives.

Later today I went out with my friend Chris for a loop around Prospect Park.  It was much colder and windier by the time we met in the park and it was also dark.  Chris hasn’t been working out much, so we kept a very slow pace.  That was fine with me, since I was just happy for the company.  We bullshitted through the loop and talked about how we were getting fucked by the state of the current economy.  I counted my blessings though as he has it a lot worse than I do.

Chris was only out to do one loop of the park, so after we completed a loop we said goodbye and I continued on.  I picked up the pace a bit and completed a second loop, several minutes faster than the first.  We these two loops and the race from earlier in the day, my total mileage for the day was around 10.5 miles and 33 miles for the week.  Not a lot of miles, but I am just building back up to a decent base and still taking it somewhat easy after the JFK 50.

In other news, I’ve been officially accepted into the Vermont 100 Miler for 2009.  I am going to try to be a bit more careful this year so that my shins don’t break down on me.  I want to make sure I get to the starting line this year.  My other concern for 2009 is getting into the NYC Marathon.  I don’t have guaranteed entry and this bothers me.  I have a streak going and I would hate to see it end.  I’ll have to figure something out.

Another year goes by and another race is completed.  Not all years are the same though.  Sometimes you are in better shape and sometimes the weather is very cold.  Both were the case with this year’s JFK 50 Miler.  My coach recommended that I skip this race due to lack of training, but I really didn’t care.  I am tired of missing races because of lack of training of injury.  I figured with enough will power I’d be able to get through it.

Besides my lack of training, the first sign that this year would be different was the weather.  We ran into several snow showers on the way out to the race and the temperatures were in the low 20’s.  I had no idea what I would wear for the race.  Being outside for 10 plus hours in 19 degree temps is a long time.  I had various layers, but I didn’t know what combination to wear.  I finally settled for wearing shorts, tights and 4 layers on top, complete with 3 pairs of gloves and a hat.  The clothes worked out for the most part and I only had to take off one layer due to getting too hot.  My only mistake was not packing my mittens.  That would have been the best.

The race starts off for 15.5 miles on the Appalachian Trail.  It’s over 3.5 hours of climbs and descents over very rocky terrain.  You can’t spend any time looking at the scenery because all of your concentration is focused on looking at the ground below you.  It really seemed like every rock wanted to reach up and grab your shoe to trip you up.  I fell once on the trail, but came out unscathed; I only lightly banged my knee.  While on the trail I was surprised to hear my cell phone ring.  It was my wife calling to find out where my son’s soccer game was.  I don’t know why she called me and not the coach.  In a way I was perhaps lucky for the call.  I felt like I was going a bit too hard on the trail and since I had to slow down to answer the phone, it reminded me that I should be not be so aggressive this early in the race.

When I got off the AT, my legs were feeling tired, but that was nothing new.  I felt that was the last time I did the JFK 50 and went on to have a great race after the AT.  The AT really hits all of the muscles in your legs, but is nothing like the C&O Canal Path that you run on after you get off the trail.  At the end of the AT and before the C&O, there is a major aid station.  I was so looking forward to getting a PB&J, but unfortunately they ran out.  I was so disappointed as I was really hungry and wanted something solid to eat.  Instead I ate a couple of Hammer Gels.

The C&O portion of the race consist of 26 miles of flat, dirt packed ground that is along a canal that used to have barges pulled by horse power.  It is very flat and can be very fast and could be very monotonous.  I enjoy the tow path though and think it is the easiest section of the course.  There are plenty of aid stations which are separated by only 2.4 – 4 miles.  Mentally, you always know you could just make it to the next aid station.  The only real problem I had during this portion was keeping my hands warm.  They were especially cold every time I took my gloves off at aid stations or had to fuss with something in my pack or my phone.  I received 3 phone calls while I was running.  I should have left the phone at home, especially when I saw one of the calls was from my boss at work.  I answered that call thinking that something was wrong in the office, only to find out it was my boss telling me that she was laid off.  Another call was from my wife, who called to ask for the location of my son’s soccer game.  I really should have turned the damn thing off.

I did very little walking during the race.  I was afraid that if I start walking that I wouldn’t start running again.  Also, when I slowed to a walk I would begin to get cold.  I didn’t want to get hypothermic as that is a sure way to get taken out of a race.  And lastly we had a 12 hour time limit and I didn’t want to be pulled off the course because I didn’t make a cutoff point.

During the race, I was mentally ok and felt it manageable as long as the times it was taking me to reach the next aid station was predictable.   If I thought that the next aid station would take me 48 minutes to reach and I met or beat that time then I knew I would be ok.  However, if I started to slow down without realizing it and it was taking me much longer than I thought it would I knew that I was going to be in trouble.  It didn’t matter how slow I went as long as I could predict a time and see that prediction come true when I reach the next aid station.  Fortunately, I was correct or better than my predictions so I had some measure of comfort throughout the later portions of the race.

When I got off the C&O Canal path, and onto the last 8 miles of asphalt roads, I noticed a scraping sound coming from the bottom of my sneaker like I had something stuck to it.  It turns out that I wore my sneakers down so bad during the race during the first 42 miles that the sole started to peel away from the heel.  I was able to scrape it off though and the sound went away.

By the time I got to the 6 miles remaining mark, it really started to get dark.  There were no lights on the road and I ran in total darkness for the last several miles.  Only the occasional passing car would light up the road.  I started to hope that I didn’t run into any potholes.  I made it though without incident and crossed the finish line in 10:44:26 which equates to a 12:51 pace.  I was almost an hour slower than the last time I did it, but I had a lot more training then.  I was extremely pleased and happy to have crossed the finish line.

The race ends at a high school and my friends that I did the race with were already inside waiting for me.  My friend Larry helped me sit down and get up a couple of times as I got something to eat and went to retrieve my bags.  We traded war stories with people we knew and just met and just relaxed for a while.  Afterwards, when everyone showered and gathered their belongings, we said goodbye to the other runners we knew and made our way back to our hotel.  We stopped to buy chocolate syrup (chocolate milk is a great recovery drink) and some roasted chickens.   At the hotel we had a bunch of beer which we began to drink and ripped into the chickens.  We were still hungry after that so we ordered out for anchovy, mushroom and black olive pizza and a couple of dozen chicken wings.  We ate, drank and talked the night away and eventually went to sleep sometime after midnight.

Pictures to come…

I haven’t written much lately, because in truth there hasn’t been much to write about.  I haven’t done much running, but today that has finally changed.  I did my 5^th (4^th consecutive) NYC Marathon and I am feeling great.  I did this race completely on experience and not on preparation.  I had maybe 100 miles of training for it between the months of August through October, with my longest run being an 11 miler only the weekend before.  I had no idea if I would be able to finish it.

Marathon day started out much like any other.  Once you have done the NYC Marathon a few times, each one just bleeds into the next.  You take the same bus to the same start and freeze your ass off for the same amount of time before the race finally begins.  As per usual over the last 4 years I traveled to the start with my friend Larry.  I really need to give him credit for helping me to get through the race as it was with him that I trained with over the last few weeks before the run and it was by listening to his sage advice that I was able to run a nice and easy and consistent race.

The Athlete village was crowded as always.  This year we managed to find space inside a tent to shield ourselves from the wind that was blowing that morning.  We laid down some blankets and made camp for the next 3 hours.  The hours before the start are always the toughest for me.  I get so cold waiting for the race to begin.  I occupied my time by snapping pictures, eating and tweeting.  Eventually time gave way and it was time to store our belongings in the baggage cars.  It was during this walk to the baggage cars that I noticed one significant change.  The urinal trough that spanned about 50 yards was gone to be replaced by a line of port-o-sans; it seems as though some traditions are bound to die out.

 Another change to this race was the wave start.  Instead of everyone going off at once, there would be separate waves of runners with 20 minutes in between them.  I was in the first wave with the faster runners.  When I signed up for the race, I thought I would run close to a 3 hour marathon.  I had no chance of that now, so I lined up towards the back of the pack of the first wave.  I didn’t want to be caught up in the mad dash across the Verrazano Bridge and start out running too hard.  I just took it easy and ran a comfortable pace.  I even stopped to take a picture of the fireboats spraying water in the harbor. 

I’ll just get into the highlights of the race at this point.

·         I remember stopping around the 6 mile mark where my family was waiting for me.  I kissed my kids and told them I loved them.  My brother-in-law asked me how I thought I would do and I replied I had no idea.  Part of me just wanted to walk home from there.  I was only about a half mile away from home.  I kept going though and concentrated on maintaining my pace and running an even race.

·         I had to stop to pee like a million times.  I was luckily able to find port-o-sans without problems.  My bladder was definitely hyperactive.  It seemed like every other mile I had to stop.

·         I remember feeling good as I got to the 13 mile mark, which is good since this is one of my least favorite points of the NYC Marathon course.  I also knew though that it wouldn’t be much longer until I headed to the 59^th Street Bridge and made it into Manhattan.  I knew if I could get to Manhattan still feeling good I would be able to finish the race.

·         My friend Larry who was in the second wave caught up to me on the 59^th Street Bridge.   I thought of increasing my pace to keep up with him, but knew that would be foolish. 

·         I dreaded reaching the 17 mile mark of the race, because I knew the road would turn from asphalt into concrete.  This is always so much harder on my legs.

·         I t felt great to get in and out of the Bronx.

·         I really knew I had the race once I started running down 5^th Avenue.  I also knew I was running a properly executed race as I was able to begin increasing my pace as I headed south into Central Park.

·         With about two miles to go I really had to pee again, but I couldn’t get to the port-a-sans.  I decided to just tough it out.

·         I had a nice finishing kick as I reentered Central Park at Columbus Circle and was extremely pleased with another NYC Marathon Finish.

It took forever to get my bags after crossing the finish line.  Then again it always does so this was no surprise.  I call it the post marathon death march.  Everyone is just walking around with all these mylar blankets and are all quiet.  Plus it is quiet in general as the crowds that lined the avenues aren’t present.  Every now and then you see someone off to the side of the road waiting for medical assistance.   I finally got my bags, and changed into warm clothes and headed for the Subway.  As I was exiting Central Park I ran into my friend Larry again.  He was just about to start running back to Brooklyn.  I wish I had a backpack with me so I could have joined him.  I had too much stuff to carry so it would have been impractical.

I took an ice bath when I got home and had a small snack.  Then I rode my bike to a post marathon party about 2 miles from my house.  It was fun to recount the war stories about the marathon and of races past and to plan for races in the future.  I drank too much (4 beers) and ate a lot and just chilled out for a few hours.  I didn’t stay that late since I still had to get home and deal with the trash and I wanted to tuck my kids into bed.

Later that night when I got into bed with my wife, I was still feeling energetic so I smiled at her and said “How about some Victory sex?”  I was feeling real good and satisfied with my accomplishment and was up for a little more endurance activity.  Unfortunately, she was too tired to oblige me so I just took an Ambien to force myself to sleep.  I was working the next day and needed to get my rest.