On Saturday, the Bay State League held it's XC championship meet at Norwood. The timing was fortunate; a few hours later, Massachusetts was in the midst of a Nor'easter that brought rain and heavy wet snow to the whole East Coast. By Sunday morning, there were several inches of snow on the ground hundreds of thousands had lost power. That storm cancelled many weekend events, including several road races, but Saturday's league meet was already in the books by then.
At Norwood, the Brookline boys and Weymouth girls left no doubt that they were the top teams in the league.
In the boys race, Brookline's Chernet Sisay (15:59) held off Walpole's Zach Ganshirt (16:03) for the win, and the Warriors placed five runners in the top ten to run away with the team title. Walpole (93 points) earned the runner-up spot ahead of Newton North (105) and Weymouth (110).
(Point totals might not be accurate, as I understand there was at least one mistake in the results.)
In the girls race, Wellesley's Priyanka Fouda followed her runner-up finish from last year with a win in 2011, taking the race in 19:10, half a minute in front of Weymouth's Ashley Betts and Julie Tevenen. The Wildcats would go on to place four runners in the top eight and win easily, with Needham second and Brookline third. Newton North's Evie Heffernan was fourth overall, leading the Tigers to a fifth-place team finish.
This was the first year that the Bay State league meet included not only a JV race, but a race for freshmen. Newton North's Isabella Reilly won the 2500m girls race in 10:25, while Brookline's Ethan Goroff won the boy's race in 8:55. Brookline boys also took the top six places in the JV race and had the top finisher in the 2500m mixed co-ed run to make a clean sweep of the awards.
Results can be found on Cool Running here:
Bay State XC Championships - Individual and Team results
October 31, 2011
October 26, 2011
BHS vs. NNHS Today
Newton North XC hosts Brookline today, as the defending D1 State Champion Warriors seek to wrap up another undefeated season and another Bay State league title. The Tigers go into the match-up with a 9-1 record, their one loss coming to Walpole at Cold Springs Park earlier in the season.
It will be the final home meet for NNHS seniors, including Justin Keefe, who has won four meets this year already. He'll have quite a challenge in Chernet Sisay, who is coming off his win at the McIntyre Twilight Invitationals, where he finished just ahead of teammate Mark Perry.
On the girls side, NN sophomore Evie Heffernan has run 19:52 this year and is the favorite for the individual win, but Brookline appears to have far more depth up front and is the favorite to win the meet.
Good luck to all teams, and best wishes for the class of 2012, who are competing for the last time at Cold Springs Park.
It will be the final home meet for NNHS seniors, including Justin Keefe, who has won four meets this year already. He'll have quite a challenge in Chernet Sisay, who is coming off his win at the McIntyre Twilight Invitationals, where he finished just ahead of teammate Mark Perry.
On the girls side, NN sophomore Evie Heffernan has run 19:52 this year and is the favorite for the individual win, but Brookline appears to have far more depth up front and is the favorite to win the meet.
Good luck to all teams, and best wishes for the class of 2012, who are competing for the last time at Cold Springs Park.
October 22, 2011
Remembering Sarah Philipps (1968 - 1988)
The death of Muammar al-Gaddafi in Libya this week prompted NNHS Historian Josh Seeherman to write a somber note remembering Sarah Philipps, one of the victims of the 1988 bombing that killed 259 people on Pan Am Flight 103 and 11 more people on the ground in Lockerbie, Scotland.
A 1986 graduate of Newton North H.S. and a Track and Field athlete there, Sarah Philipps attended the University of Colorado and participated in Syracuse University's London Studies program in the fall of 1988. She was 20 years old when she boarded Flight 103 at Heathrow Airport on Dec. 21st, 1988, to return home for the Christmas holidays. She died when the plane exploded in mid-air over Lockerbie, killing all aboard.
The Philipps family established a scholarship in Sarah's name at Colorado that continues to this day, and has enabled over twenty CU undergraduates to study abroad over the past two decades. In addition, Syracuse University created 35 Remembrance Scholarships to honor the 35 victims from the Syracuse program who were on the flight. In 2009 one of those scholars, Kate Callahan, who had been inspired by Sarah's love of athletics, organized a 3.5-mile Remembrance run for the 35 students.
Josh went on to write of his connection to Sarah. She had been a camp counselor at the Meadowbrook Day Camp in Weston, which he attended, and had also been one of the last groups of students to attend the old Claflin Elementary School, a quarter of a mile up Lowell Avenue from the site of the old Newton North building. NNHS runners pass the old school almost every day as they head out for their runs on Comm Ave.
A 1986 graduate of Newton North H.S. and a Track and Field athlete there, Sarah Philipps attended the University of Colorado and participated in Syracuse University's London Studies program in the fall of 1988. She was 20 years old when she boarded Flight 103 at Heathrow Airport on Dec. 21st, 1988, to return home for the Christmas holidays. She died when the plane exploded in mid-air over Lockerbie, killing all aboard.
The Philipps family established a scholarship in Sarah's name at Colorado that continues to this day, and has enabled over twenty CU undergraduates to study abroad over the past two decades. In addition, Syracuse University created 35 Remembrance Scholarships to honor the 35 victims from the Syracuse program who were on the flight. In 2009 one of those scholars, Kate Callahan, who had been inspired by Sarah's love of athletics, organized a 3.5-mile Remembrance run for the 35 students.
Josh went on to write of his connection to Sarah. She had been a camp counselor at the Meadowbrook Day Camp in Weston, which he attended, and had also been one of the last groups of students to attend the old Claflin Elementary School, a quarter of a mile up Lowell Avenue from the site of the old Newton North building. NNHS runners pass the old school almost every day as they head out for their runs on Comm Ave.
October 11, 2011
BSL Alumni Results 10/8/11-10/10/11
Columbus Day Weekend featured three big running events in the Boston area standing out among the the usual fare of local road and cross-country races.
New England XC Championships
On Saturday, Franklin Park hosted the Collegiate New England Championships on a day that felt more like summer than fall. In all, almost 1200 runners competed in the varsity and sub-varsity races. It was fun to see so many former Mass. high school stars in the race, and, in addition, there were quite a few alumni from Bay State league schools. I apologize in advance for missing any BSL runners, but here is a list of names that I recognized from the results:
Women's 5K:
Rebecca White 18:04 (Natick '09)
Amanda Waldron 19:09 (Walpole '10)
Jessica Kaliski 19:27 (Wellesley '11)
Anna Lukes 19:55 (Wellesley '08)
Jill Corcoran 20:15 (Weymouth '11)
Marlis Gnirke 20:47 (Wellesley '08)
Maria Grandoni 21:17 (Framingham '11)
Men's 8K:
Stephen Sollowin 26:15 (Weymouth '11)
Sam Miller 26:32 (Needham '08)
Jerzy Eisenberg-Guyot 26:59 (Brookline '07)
Romey Sklar 27:22 (Brookline '11)
Seb Putzeys 27:25 (Newton North '08)
Chris Mercurio 27:29 (Brookline '08)
BAA Half-Marathon
From the time the last race was over on Saturday, crews at Franklin Park began setting up the start/finish area for the BAA half marathon to be held the next day.
The BAA half has become one of the most popular races on the New England calendar with over 5000 entrants. The top spots went to Ethiopia's Al Abdosh (1:03:36), Kenya's and Liberty University grad Sam Chelanga (1:03:41), and a several other Kenyan runners. Top American was Boston College grad and Mass. native Tim Ritchie, who finished 7th in (1:05:29).
I looked for BSL alums in the results but didn't recognize any names.
Tufts 10K
On Columbus Day Monday, 6500 women and girls took the starting line for the 35th annual Tufts 10K for women.
Janet Cherobon-Bawcom won the race in 32:47, a day after winning the BAA Half in 1:11:58. That's quite a double!
There were at least two BSL alumnae in the race, although one of them was running under an assumed name. Here are the two I recognized. Anyone know of any other BSL athletes who raced?
Brielle Chabot, 37:02 (Wellesley '07)
Joni Waldron, 50:01 (NNHS '02)
(A special shout-out to Joni who ran her first official 10K on limited training and still managed 8:00 miles and a fierce kick at the end.)
New England XC Championships
On Saturday, Franklin Park hosted the Collegiate New England Championships on a day that felt more like summer than fall. In all, almost 1200 runners competed in the varsity and sub-varsity races. It was fun to see so many former Mass. high school stars in the race, and, in addition, there were quite a few alumni from Bay State league schools. I apologize in advance for missing any BSL runners, but here is a list of names that I recognized from the results:
Women's 5K:
Rebecca White 18:04 (Natick '09)
Amanda Waldron 19:09 (Walpole '10)
Jessica Kaliski 19:27 (Wellesley '11)
Anna Lukes 19:55 (Wellesley '08)
Jill Corcoran 20:15 (Weymouth '11)
Marlis Gnirke 20:47 (Wellesley '08)
Maria Grandoni 21:17 (Framingham '11)
Men's 8K:
Stephen Sollowin 26:15 (Weymouth '11)
Sam Miller 26:32 (Needham '08)
Jerzy Eisenberg-Guyot 26:59 (Brookline '07)
Romey Sklar 27:22 (Brookline '11)
Seb Putzeys 27:25 (Newton North '08)
Chris Mercurio 27:29 (Brookline '08)
BAA Half-Marathon
From the time the last race was over on Saturday, crews at Franklin Park began setting up the start/finish area for the BAA half marathon to be held the next day.
The BAA half has become one of the most popular races on the New England calendar with over 5000 entrants. The top spots went to Ethiopia's Al Abdosh (1:03:36), Kenya's and Liberty University grad Sam Chelanga (1:03:41), and a several other Kenyan runners. Top American was Boston College grad and Mass. native Tim Ritchie, who finished 7th in (1:05:29).
I looked for BSL alums in the results but didn't recognize any names.
Tufts 10K
On Columbus Day Monday, 6500 women and girls took the starting line for the 35th annual Tufts 10K for women.
Janet Cherobon-Bawcom won the race in 32:47, a day after winning the BAA Half in 1:11:58. That's quite a double!
There were at least two BSL alumnae in the race, although one of them was running under an assumed name. Here are the two I recognized. Anyone know of any other BSL athletes who raced?
Brielle Chabot, 37:02 (Wellesley '07)
Joni Waldron, 50:01 (NNHS '02)
(A special shout-out to Joni who ran her first official 10K on limited training and still managed 8:00 miles and a fierce kick at the end.)
October 08, 2011
College XC:
2011 New England Championships Today
The 2011 NEICAAA Cross Country Championships, aka, New Englands, take place this morning at Franklin Park in Boston, on the following schedule:
This is one of the few meets that brings together DI, DII, and DIII teams, and offers a great chance to see former Mass. H.S. runners strutting their stuff for their college teams.
11:00 am Women's Sub Varsity 5k
11:45 am Men's Sub Varsity 8k
12:30 pm Women's Varsity 5k
1:15 pm Men's Varsity 8k
This is one of the few meets that brings together DI, DII, and DIII teams, and offers a great chance to see former Mass. H.S. runners strutting their stuff for their college teams.
October 03, 2011
Barnicle 7th in USA 10-Mile Championships
Only two weeks after his half marathon debut, NNHS alum Chris Barnicle was back on the roads competing at the USA 10-mile championships in the Twin Cities on Sunday. The result was another outstanding race, as he placed 7th overall in a time of 47:06, just twenty seconds behind winner Mo Trafeh.
Here's a link to the race finish video:
USA Running Circuit - USARunningCircuit.com - USARC Official Site - Videos - Mens and Womens Finish - Live Webcast Replay - USA 10 Mile Championships 2011
Here's a link to the race finish video:
USA Running Circuit - USARunningCircuit.com - USARC Official Site - Videos - Mens and Womens Finish - Live Webcast Replay - USA 10 Mile Championships 2011
September 25, 2011
September 28, 2041
(Berlin)
Somalia's Abdi Jimale Bani became the first man in history to run the standard marathon distance in under two hours this morning, recording a stunning new world record of 1:59:55 at the Berlin Marathon. Jimale Bani, whose previous best had been 2:01:13, ran with a large pack early in the race, but seized the lead shortly after passing halfway in 59:49. Accompanied by his two virtual pacesetters, Jimale Bani opened up a lead that grew with every passing kilometer and it seemed ever more certain that he would better David Kipsang's old world record of 2:00:08; the only question was whether he would be inside the two-hour mark. When he crossed the line, the Somali-born and American-trained runner went to his knees and kissed the ground, then rose with a huge smile on his face and waved to the crowd.
In addition to the distinction of being history's first two-hour man, when he crossed the line Jimale Bani became perhaps the wealthiest distance runner in the world. In addition to his first-place prize money of $1,000,000 (USD), Jimale Bani received the course record bonus of $500,000 from race organizers. He also earned the $2.5 million "two-hour challenge" prize from the World Marathon Association.
Around the world, marathon fans celebrated the news that the barrier had finally been broken. There had been speculation that the record might fall in Berlin, but the man considered most likely to do it, 2036 and 2040 Olympic 10,000m Champion and half-marathon world record holder Dareje Tale of Ethiopia, retired from the race after only 15 kilometers with a leg injury that has plagued him in recent months.
The two-hour marathon has long been considered an achievement of supreme significance in long distance running. Perhaps no barrier has seized the imagination of the Athletics World since Roger Bannister broke the four-minute mile 85 years ago. In the early part of this century, the marathon record seemed under constant assault and was lowered nearly a dozen times in fifteen years. But progress seemed to come to a halt after Kenya's Paul Kimeli Koech ran 2:01:57 in 2019, a time that would not be bettered for another decade.
In the early 2030's, a new generation of marathoners began lowering the record again. Some credit new medical breakthroughs in understanding how the body repairs tissue damage after extreme physical exertion, allowing athletes to train at a higher level without needing as much recovery. Others credit technological advances in footwear and the construction of racing surfaces, such as those used in the streets of Berlin, that return more energy to runners' legs.
But perhaps the single most important reason that a human being has finally run under two hours for 26.2 miles is that Abdi Jimale Bani believed it was possible. "I knew that one day, someone would run under two hours," Jimale Bani said after his historic race. "I knew that there is no limit to what we can do, how fast we can run. Today I decided to not thing about what was impossible, but about how anything is possible, and now I am so happy."
Somalia's Abdi Jimale Bani became the first man in history to run the standard marathon distance in under two hours this morning, recording a stunning new world record of 1:59:55 at the Berlin Marathon. Jimale Bani, whose previous best had been 2:01:13, ran with a large pack early in the race, but seized the lead shortly after passing halfway in 59:49. Accompanied by his two virtual pacesetters, Jimale Bani opened up a lead that grew with every passing kilometer and it seemed ever more certain that he would better David Kipsang's old world record of 2:00:08; the only question was whether he would be inside the two-hour mark. When he crossed the line, the Somali-born and American-trained runner went to his knees and kissed the ground, then rose with a huge smile on his face and waved to the crowd.
In addition to the distinction of being history's first two-hour man, when he crossed the line Jimale Bani became perhaps the wealthiest distance runner in the world. In addition to his first-place prize money of $1,000,000 (USD), Jimale Bani received the course record bonus of $500,000 from race organizers. He also earned the $2.5 million "two-hour challenge" prize from the World Marathon Association.
Around the world, marathon fans celebrated the news that the barrier had finally been broken. There had been speculation that the record might fall in Berlin, but the man considered most likely to do it, 2036 and 2040 Olympic 10,000m Champion and half-marathon world record holder Dareje Tale of Ethiopia, retired from the race after only 15 kilometers with a leg injury that has plagued him in recent months.
The two-hour marathon has long been considered an achievement of supreme significance in long distance running. Perhaps no barrier has seized the imagination of the Athletics World since Roger Bannister broke the four-minute mile 85 years ago. In the early part of this century, the marathon record seemed under constant assault and was lowered nearly a dozen times in fifteen years. But progress seemed to come to a halt after Kenya's Paul Kimeli Koech ran 2:01:57 in 2019, a time that would not be bettered for another decade.
In the early 2030's, a new generation of marathoners began lowering the record again. Some credit new medical breakthroughs in understanding how the body repairs tissue damage after extreme physical exertion, allowing athletes to train at a higher level without needing as much recovery. Others credit technological advances in footwear and the construction of racing surfaces, such as those used in the streets of Berlin, that return more energy to runners' legs.
But perhaps the single most important reason that a human being has finally run under two hours for 26.2 miles is that Abdi Jimale Bani believed it was possible. "I knew that one day, someone would run under two hours," Jimale Bani said after his historic race. "I knew that there is no limit to what we can do, how fast we can run. Today I decided to not thing about what was impossible, but about how anything is possible, and now I am so happy."
September 23, 2011
Race Report:
The 23rd Annual Fred Brown Relay
A week ago Saturday was the 23rd Annual Fred Brown Relay, an eight-person 65-mile stage race around Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire.
My club often competes at this race, and this year we entered a men's over-40 team. One challenge of a stage relay is to find runners who consider it fun to drive for hours, race solo over hilly terrain, perhaps without ever encountering another runner, and then drive for even more hours following their teammates as they slowly advance the baton around the Lake. Our team this year had great enthusiasm for this task, and spirits were high as we all headed for our appointed rendezvous points on the course.
These days, large corporate-sponsored stage relays are becoming a fixture on the New England Road Racing Calendar. Events like "Reach the Beach," the "Green Mountain Relay," and the "Ragnar Relay," are well-organized two-day races that cover up to 200 miles and charge entry fees of over $1000 per team. In spite of this, the races regularly reach their limit of teams.
Unlike these newer events, the Fred Brown Relay is hosted by a local running club (the North Medford Club), charges a modest entry fee ($250 per team this year), and uses actual volunteers to hand time the legs. Traffic control is minimal and runners are mostly on their own.
Not surprisingly, faced with increased competition from the professionally-organized and more heavily-marketed Relays with their spiffy web sites, the Fred Brown Relay has been shrinking in recent years. This year, only 75 teams completed the race around the Lake. Only a week later, 434 teams would finish "Reach the Beach."
If it perishes, many old-timers like me will mourn the Fred Brown Relay and its storied history. That history began not in New Hampshire, but on Cape Cod when the legendary Fred Brown -- a beloved figure in New England Road Racing and a tireless champion of small, local, inexpensive races -- organized an annual relay from Plymouth Rock to Provincetown in the early 1970's. The P-to-P relay, as it was called, was quite an event, and attracted the top club teams in New England, including the BAA, Central Mass Striders, and many others.
Despite its popularity with runners, the P-to-P relay was never embraced by residents of Cape Cod who resented the influx of cars and runners every fall. In the late 80's the race moved to New Hampshire. The relatively flat point-to-point journey to the end of the Cape has become a relentlessly hilly loop that starts and finishes at "Funspot," a roadside attraction and tourist diversion located near the top of a long hill not too far from Weir's Beach. This was the course we were about to tackle.
Mike and Kevin had the early legs, and both set out from Boston before dawn to reach Fun Spot in time for the 8:00 a.m. start. Meanwhile, Terry and I had left Boston later and were headed to Alton Bay and the second exchange point. From there it would get a little complicated. Kevin, running second, would hand-off to me, running third, and then drive with Terry, running fifth, to the start of Terry's leg. Kevin would then backtrack to the end of the third leg, deliver a race number and pins to our fourth runner, Paul, and wait for me to finish. Kevin and I would then drive to the start of the sixth leg, deliver more numbers to Al (running seventh) and Andy (running eighth). We would then backtrack, meet Terry at the end of the fifth leg, and follow the race together after that all the way to the end.
But back to Mike -- Mike would start it all off by running the 10.5-mile first leg, a rolling course that begins with a long downhill into the village of Weir's Beach before climbing nearly 600 feet up to the entrance of the Gunstock Ski Area.
I had run this leg in 2010, and I knew that the final climb -- three miles of relatively steady uphill would be tough. Michael had predicted a time of 67 minutes, based on the distance but not the hills. I thought he did well to finish in 70 minutes, handing off to Kevin at ten past 9:00. Kevin's leg began with two and a half miles of downhill, and I had told him that his stride was perfectly suited for the terrain. It was, but I had somehow failed to mention that after those early downhill miles, there were another 8 more miles to run, including some tough uphill stretches. Kevin ran really well (68 minutes for the 11-mile leg), but had the look of someone on whom a trick has been played as he handed off the baton to me in Alton Bay.
I had told Kevin that I didn't care how fast he ran as long as we had a proper hand-off. It drives me crazy to see receiving runners standing flat-footed as their teammates come barreling into an exchange zone. In such cases, the incoming runner hands off the baton and then runs PAST the outgoing runner, who finally decides to start moving after receiving the baton. I swore this would not happen to us.
Bad: Incoming runner passes outgoing runner... and laughs about it! Do you see think hand-offs are a joke?
As Kevin approached, I extended my hand and started running. The baton never stopped moving, and one respectable hand-off later I was on my way for the dreaded 3rd leg.
Kevin and Jon demonstrate a proper hand-off, gaining precious tenths of a second in this seven-hour race.
The third leg begins in Alton Bay, next to the water and is exceedingly pleasant for about 600 meters. It then heads straight up Bay Hill Road, a steep half mile climb that ends on a barren stretch of highway that has no scenery of any kind for seven miles. I had never run the third leg, but I felt it would be good for me. It wasn't.
I actually felt ok at the start and ran the hill with restraint so that the first several miles on the highway were steady. I managed to catch two runners who had started before me, bringing our team into 4th place overall. We didn't know it at the time, but that's where we would stay for the next 40 miles of racing and that's where we would finish four and a half hours later.
By the last few miles, the constant rolling hills had taken their toll on my legs, and I plodded into the village of Wolfeboro a humbled man.
After handing off to Paul, I walked around a bit drinking water and Gatorade. After 10-15 minutes it was back into the car for the drive to Moultenborough. It was a brilliant late summer day, and after leaving Wolfeboro we found ourselves driving along beautiful back roads with occasional views of the lake to our left and mountains to our right.
While Terry ran the fifth leg, we drove ahead to the start of Leg 7, met Andy and Al, and found out that we had missed Jonathan who had taken the shuttle bus to start of Leg 6 numberless. So it was back in the car, and back to the previous exchange zone to find Jonathan and wait for Terry.
At this point, nearly 5 hours into the race, our team was in fourth and the runners were so spread out that there was essentially no traffic or congestion. As we waited for Terry to arrive at the exchange, we noted the first, second, and third place teams, separated by several minutes each. It was another fifteen minutes before Terry hove into view and passed the baton to Jonathan. There was no chance we would catch any of the teams in front of us, but could we be caught? We stuck around long enough to time the gap to the fifth-place team at just over five minutes. With 19.4 miles to go that was close!
Jonathan took the baton for the sixth leg and looked to be running well. With Terry in the car, we were now in a position to provide support to Jonathan at various points along the road.
We chose a spot a couple of miles into his leg, and I grabbed a water bottle to hand to him. Remember, I had run nine and a half very hill miles a couple of hours ago and had been cooling off ever since. As Jonathan ran towards me, I tried to run alongside and hand him the water, but my legs were shot. I managed to hold out the bottle, and Jonathan grabbed it form me. As he took a swig, I tried to accelerate to get the bottle back from him, but he was past me and pulling away like a train pulling out of a station. Eventually he realized there was no hope for me and tossed the bottle backwards over his head and continued down the road. I retrieved the bottle and limped back to the car where Kevin and Terry were laughing at me.
We saw Jonathan several more times, and he continued to run well. Even so, the team behind us (we would find out later that their team name was "Tunnel of Pain") had sliced almost a minute and a half from our lead. As Al began the 8.8 mile 7th leg, we had a lead of under four minutes.
The 7th leg is a long, soulless slog from Moultenborough to Meredith along a busy highway facing oncoming traffic. Its final miles feature several "false summits" that fool the runner into thinking he or she is almost done. When the runner finally gives up guessing, there is a final sharp downhill to the exchange zone.
Our runner for the seventh leg was Al Paine, probably the least intimidating human being on the planet. Soft spoken and slight of stature, wearing long shorts that make him look like a high school freshman, Al is, nevertheless, an impressive runner. From time-to-time, Al takes a notion to train for some marathon other. He trains by running and running and running -- twenty mile runs, thirty mile runs, seemingly oblivious to the normal limits of fatigue and attention span. Al seems to have a very high tolerance for discomfort of all sorts, including heat, cold, hunger, thirst, and... traffic.
The runner from "Tunnel of Pain," on the other hand was tall and athletic-looking, sporting short shorts and a singlet that actually fit him (Al's singlet was about three sizes too big). He looked like a ringer, and we were nervous.
Fearing the worst, we drove ahead to offer Al encouragement and time the gap as the race proceeded. In the first few miles, our fears were realized as the athletic-looking guy began to close the gap. At around three miles, our lead was down under three minutes. But we also noticed that athletic-looking guy was straining, fighting, his eyes downcast to the pavement as he encountered each new hill. Al, on the other hand, looked impassive, unperturbed as he shuffled along the highway oblivious to the pickups roaring past. At four miles, Al's lead was still three minutes. Then -- a miracle -- at five and a half, it had grown to 3:15. Al's tortoise was putting time into Tunnel of Pain's hare. By the exchange, Al had regained all of the lost time and hand-off to Andy with a lead of 3:49.
The final leg is only 4.4 miles, but is all hills, the longest one a steady climb of 1.1 miles. We had chosen Andy for this leg because in his youth he had been a "fell runner" in England, that is, a runner who competes in races that consist of running up and down "fells" all day. He embraced the role, and ran a very solid final leg to bring us home in 7:06:19. I took this picture as he crossed the line...
We hung around for a while, watching "Tunnel of Pain" finish a few minutes after us, then a top women's team, and then... no other teams for another half hour. We chatted with the teams who had finished ahead of us, compared notes, ate the cookies and other refreshments provided by the race organizers, saw a few teams finishing at about eight hours, and then got in our cars and headed South.
The early morning drive seemed like it had happened a long time ago. Not much had changed since then, although I was going home with a handsome beer glass -- one of the eight that we had acquired by virtue of our finish as the second master's team. It would have a place of honor alongside the half a dozen similar glasses in my kitchen, the reminders of previous years at the Lake.
My club often competes at this race, and this year we entered a men's over-40 team. One challenge of a stage relay is to find runners who consider it fun to drive for hours, race solo over hilly terrain, perhaps without ever encountering another runner, and then drive for even more hours following their teammates as they slowly advance the baton around the Lake. Our team this year had great enthusiasm for this task, and spirits were high as we all headed for our appointed rendezvous points on the course.
These days, large corporate-sponsored stage relays are becoming a fixture on the New England Road Racing Calendar. Events like "Reach the Beach," the "Green Mountain Relay," and the "Ragnar Relay," are well-organized two-day races that cover up to 200 miles and charge entry fees of over $1000 per team. In spite of this, the races regularly reach their limit of teams.
Unlike these newer events, the Fred Brown Relay is hosted by a local running club (the North Medford Club), charges a modest entry fee ($250 per team this year), and uses actual volunteers to hand time the legs. Traffic control is minimal and runners are mostly on their own.
Not surprisingly, faced with increased competition from the professionally-organized and more heavily-marketed Relays with their spiffy web sites, the Fred Brown Relay has been shrinking in recent years. This year, only 75 teams completed the race around the Lake. Only a week later, 434 teams would finish "Reach the Beach."
If it perishes, many old-timers like me will mourn the Fred Brown Relay and its storied history. That history began not in New Hampshire, but on Cape Cod when the legendary Fred Brown -- a beloved figure in New England Road Racing and a tireless champion of small, local, inexpensive races -- organized an annual relay from Plymouth Rock to Provincetown in the early 1970's. The P-to-P relay, as it was called, was quite an event, and attracted the top club teams in New England, including the BAA, Central Mass Striders, and many others.
Despite its popularity with runners, the P-to-P relay was never embraced by residents of Cape Cod who resented the influx of cars and runners every fall. In the late 80's the race moved to New Hampshire. The relatively flat point-to-point journey to the end of the Cape has become a relentlessly hilly loop that starts and finishes at "Funspot," a roadside attraction and tourist diversion located near the top of a long hill not too far from Weir's Beach. This was the course we were about to tackle.
Mike and Kevin had the early legs, and both set out from Boston before dawn to reach Fun Spot in time for the 8:00 a.m. start. Meanwhile, Terry and I had left Boston later and were headed to Alton Bay and the second exchange point. From there it would get a little complicated. Kevin, running second, would hand-off to me, running third, and then drive with Terry, running fifth, to the start of Terry's leg. Kevin would then backtrack to the end of the third leg, deliver a race number and pins to our fourth runner, Paul, and wait for me to finish. Kevin and I would then drive to the start of the sixth leg, deliver more numbers to Al (running seventh) and Andy (running eighth). We would then backtrack, meet Terry at the end of the fifth leg, and follow the race together after that all the way to the end.
But back to Mike -- Mike would start it all off by running the 10.5-mile first leg, a rolling course that begins with a long downhill into the village of Weir's Beach before climbing nearly 600 feet up to the entrance of the Gunstock Ski Area.
I had run this leg in 2010, and I knew that the final climb -- three miles of relatively steady uphill would be tough. Michael had predicted a time of 67 minutes, based on the distance but not the hills. I thought he did well to finish in 70 minutes, handing off to Kevin at ten past 9:00. Kevin's leg began with two and a half miles of downhill, and I had told him that his stride was perfectly suited for the terrain. It was, but I had somehow failed to mention that after those early downhill miles, there were another 8 more miles to run, including some tough uphill stretches. Kevin ran really well (68 minutes for the 11-mile leg), but had the look of someone on whom a trick has been played as he handed off the baton to me in Alton Bay.
I had told Kevin that I didn't care how fast he ran as long as we had a proper hand-off. It drives me crazy to see receiving runners standing flat-footed as their teammates come barreling into an exchange zone. In such cases, the incoming runner hands off the baton and then runs PAST the outgoing runner, who finally decides to start moving after receiving the baton. I swore this would not happen to us.
Bad: Incoming runner passes outgoing runner... and laughs about it! Do you see think hand-offs are a joke?
As Kevin approached, I extended my hand and started running. The baton never stopped moving, and one respectable hand-off later I was on my way for the dreaded 3rd leg.
Kevin and Jon demonstrate a proper hand-off, gaining precious tenths of a second in this seven-hour race.
The third leg begins in Alton Bay, next to the water and is exceedingly pleasant for about 600 meters. It then heads straight up Bay Hill Road, a steep half mile climb that ends on a barren stretch of highway that has no scenery of any kind for seven miles. I had never run the third leg, but I felt it would be good for me. It wasn't.
I actually felt ok at the start and ran the hill with restraint so that the first several miles on the highway were steady. I managed to catch two runners who had started before me, bringing our team into 4th place overall. We didn't know it at the time, but that's where we would stay for the next 40 miles of racing and that's where we would finish four and a half hours later.
By the last few miles, the constant rolling hills had taken their toll on my legs, and I plodded into the village of Wolfeboro a humbled man.
After handing off to Paul, I walked around a bit drinking water and Gatorade. After 10-15 minutes it was back into the car for the drive to Moultenborough. It was a brilliant late summer day, and after leaving Wolfeboro we found ourselves driving along beautiful back roads with occasional views of the lake to our left and mountains to our right.
While Terry ran the fifth leg, we drove ahead to the start of Leg 7, met Andy and Al, and found out that we had missed Jonathan who had taken the shuttle bus to start of Leg 6 numberless. So it was back in the car, and back to the previous exchange zone to find Jonathan and wait for Terry.
At this point, nearly 5 hours into the race, our team was in fourth and the runners were so spread out that there was essentially no traffic or congestion. As we waited for Terry to arrive at the exchange, we noted the first, second, and third place teams, separated by several minutes each. It was another fifteen minutes before Terry hove into view and passed the baton to Jonathan. There was no chance we would catch any of the teams in front of us, but could we be caught? We stuck around long enough to time the gap to the fifth-place team at just over five minutes. With 19.4 miles to go that was close!
Jonathan took the baton for the sixth leg and looked to be running well. With Terry in the car, we were now in a position to provide support to Jonathan at various points along the road.
We chose a spot a couple of miles into his leg, and I grabbed a water bottle to hand to him. Remember, I had run nine and a half very hill miles a couple of hours ago and had been cooling off ever since. As Jonathan ran towards me, I tried to run alongside and hand him the water, but my legs were shot. I managed to hold out the bottle, and Jonathan grabbed it form me. As he took a swig, I tried to accelerate to get the bottle back from him, but he was past me and pulling away like a train pulling out of a station. Eventually he realized there was no hope for me and tossed the bottle backwards over his head and continued down the road. I retrieved the bottle and limped back to the car where Kevin and Terry were laughing at me.
We saw Jonathan several more times, and he continued to run well. Even so, the team behind us (we would find out later that their team name was "Tunnel of Pain") had sliced almost a minute and a half from our lead. As Al began the 8.8 mile 7th leg, we had a lead of under four minutes.
The 7th leg is a long, soulless slog from Moultenborough to Meredith along a busy highway facing oncoming traffic. Its final miles feature several "false summits" that fool the runner into thinking he or she is almost done. When the runner finally gives up guessing, there is a final sharp downhill to the exchange zone.
Our runner for the seventh leg was Al Paine, probably the least intimidating human being on the planet. Soft spoken and slight of stature, wearing long shorts that make him look like a high school freshman, Al is, nevertheless, an impressive runner. From time-to-time, Al takes a notion to train for some marathon other. He trains by running and running and running -- twenty mile runs, thirty mile runs, seemingly oblivious to the normal limits of fatigue and attention span. Al seems to have a very high tolerance for discomfort of all sorts, including heat, cold, hunger, thirst, and... traffic.
The runner from "Tunnel of Pain," on the other hand was tall and athletic-looking, sporting short shorts and a singlet that actually fit him (Al's singlet was about three sizes too big). He looked like a ringer, and we were nervous.
Fearing the worst, we drove ahead to offer Al encouragement and time the gap as the race proceeded. In the first few miles, our fears were realized as the athletic-looking guy began to close the gap. At around three miles, our lead was down under three minutes. But we also noticed that athletic-looking guy was straining, fighting, his eyes downcast to the pavement as he encountered each new hill. Al, on the other hand, looked impassive, unperturbed as he shuffled along the highway oblivious to the pickups roaring past. At four miles, Al's lead was still three minutes. Then -- a miracle -- at five and a half, it had grown to 3:15. Al's tortoise was putting time into Tunnel of Pain's hare. By the exchange, Al had regained all of the lost time and hand-off to Andy with a lead of 3:49.
The final leg is only 4.4 miles, but is all hills, the longest one a steady climb of 1.1 miles. We had chosen Andy for this leg because in his youth he had been a "fell runner" in England, that is, a runner who competes in races that consist of running up and down "fells" all day. He embraced the role, and ran a very solid final leg to bring us home in 7:06:19. I took this picture as he crossed the line...
We hung around for a while, watching "Tunnel of Pain" finish a few minutes after us, then a top women's team, and then... no other teams for another half hour. We chatted with the teams who had finished ahead of us, compared notes, ate the cookies and other refreshments provided by the race organizers, saw a few teams finishing at about eight hours, and then got in our cars and headed South.
The early morning drive seemed like it had happened a long time ago. Not much had changed since then, although I was going home with a handsome beer glass -- one of the eight that we had acquired by virtue of our finish as the second master's team. It would have a place of honor alongside the half a dozen similar glasses in my kitchen, the reminders of previous years at the Lake.
September 22, 2011
IAAF to Disallow Women's World Records in Mixed Races
Yesterday's NY Times has an article that describes a recent IAAF ruling women's road race performances in mixed-gender races will no longer be considered for world records. Shockingly, the ruling means that Paula Radcliffe's 2:15:25 will no longer be considered the world record, being replaced by her fastest time in a women's only race, 2:17:42 from London 2005.
For Women's World Records, No Men Allowed
This strikes me as a terrible idea. If pacing is an artificial aid to racing performance, then why not ban all pacing, specifically, men pacing men. The gender of the pacers is not relevant; the pacing is.
I once read an essay that decried pacing in track races, arguing that the worst thing that ever happened to Track was Roger Bannister breaking the four-minute mile with substantial pacing assistance from Bannister's teammates Chris Brasher and Chris Chataway. Now, every big meet hires multiple pacemakers to enhance the possibility of records.
Pacing helps. Everyone knows this. It's also a fact that it's much harder to find pacers for women's races. But do these things by themselves mean that men pacing women is fundamentally different than men pacing men?
And what happens if a woman sets a WR record, and then one of the other competitors subsequently fails a "gender test." Does the WR no longer count because it was set in a mixed-gender event?
It seems to me that the IAAF is struggling with the issue of gender in Athletics, but its decisions are increasing, not dispelling the confusion.
For Women's World Records, No Men Allowed
This strikes me as a terrible idea. If pacing is an artificial aid to racing performance, then why not ban all pacing, specifically, men pacing men. The gender of the pacers is not relevant; the pacing is.
I once read an essay that decried pacing in track races, arguing that the worst thing that ever happened to Track was Roger Bannister breaking the four-minute mile with substantial pacing assistance from Bannister's teammates Chris Brasher and Chris Chataway. Now, every big meet hires multiple pacemakers to enhance the possibility of records.
Pacing helps. Everyone knows this. It's also a fact that it's much harder to find pacers for women's races. But do these things by themselves mean that men pacing women is fundamentally different than men pacing men?
And what happens if a woman sets a WR record, and then one of the other competitors subsequently fails a "gender test." Does the WR no longer count because it was set in a mixed-gender event?
It seems to me that the IAAF is struggling with the issue of gender in Athletics, but its decisions are increasing, not dispelling the confusion.
September 18, 2011
Barnicle Runs 1:02:43 at Philly Half
On Sunday, NNHS alum (and former Arkansas and New Mexico athlete) Chris Barnicle ran 1:02:43 to take 13th at Philly Rock and Rock Half-Marathon. That time qualifies him for the 2012 U.S. Olympic Marathon Trials in January. It was Chris' debut at the half-marathon distance.
Also on Sunday, Jess Barton ran 17:19 for 24th woman at the CVS Downtown Pharmacy 5K and 2011 USATF 5k Championships.
With all the early cross-country meets this weekend, I'm sure there were other NNHS alumni results, but I didn't find any in my quick browsing.
Also on Sunday, Jess Barton ran 17:19 for 24th woman at the CVS Downtown Pharmacy 5K and 2011 USATF 5k Championships.
With all the early cross-country meets this weekend, I'm sure there were other NNHS alumni results, but I didn't find any in my quick browsing.
Rupp Runs 26:48 --
Sets Off "Amadeus Effect"
Katerina Cavalieri: What does he look like?
Salieri: Mozart? You might be disappointed.
Katerina Cavalieri: Why?
Salieri: Looks and talent don't always go together, Katerina.
On Friday night in Brussels at the Memorial van Damme meet, Galen Rupp ran 10,000m in 26 minutes and 48 seconds, a personal best by 22 seconds and a new American Record by 11. Rupp's previous best had come in the same 2010 race where Chris Solinsky had become the first American to run under 27 minutes with a performance that sent shock waves through U.S. Distance Running.
In the Brussels race, just as in the 2010 race, Rupp finished third. However, this time he trailed only Kenenisa Bekele and Lucas Rotich, and he beat -- among others -- the 4th fastest man ever at 5000m, Eliud Kipchoge. Watch the video, below, and feel your pulse quicken as Rupp moves into second and pushes the pace with 1200 to go.
As the news of Rupp's AR hit the public square, or at least the message boards of LetsRun.com, there was a strange, but in some ways predictable attempt to diminish Rupp's run. One writer asserted that Solinsky's run had been more impressive; another pointed out that Rupp had never beaten Solinsky in a 10K; still others predicted that Rupp would never win a World Championship or Olympic medal.
Perhaps not, but why all the hate? Why not just keep quiet and let the record stand for itself? What is it about Rupp, in particular, that invites this churlish negativity? I think it might be something I'll call it the "Amadeus Effect."
In the film Amadeus, the composer Antonio Salieri can't reconcile the sublime genius of Mozart's music with the childish bearing of Mozart the man. Salieri, who knows his own mediocrity, takes it as a personal insult that God would bestow his gifts on someone who didn't look and act the part of a great composer.
I suspect that Rupp has a similar effect on those who, while saddled with their own mediocrity, want their running heroes to "look the part" of a great distance runner. For these people, great runners should be tough bad-asses like Steve Prefontaine... or like Chris Solinsky.
Rupp isn't like that. Rupp has always seemed more goofy than tough. The haters have always dismissed Rupp for his "privileged" athletic pedigree, his breathe-right nose strips, his pollen masks, and his generally well-adjusted demeanor. When he was beaten at Footlockers by Matt Withrow, he was derided as "the rich kid with the altitude tent and the private coach."
But -- unlike Withrow and so many others -- Rupp has gotten better and better. He won NCAA Titles in XC and Track. He won national titles. He now has American Records for 10000m outdoors and 5000m indoors. He is a legitimate medal contender for next year's Olympic Games.
The comparison with Mozart isn't exact. The implication of "Amadeus" is that Mozart didn't have to work at being great, while Rupp has worked extraordinarily hard for the last decade to be where he is. But the Salieris of the world still find it hard to accept that someone who runs 26:48 seems like a little kid with funny hair, and easy smile, and a can of grape soda in his hand.
Salieri: Mozart? You might be disappointed.
Katerina Cavalieri: Why?
Salieri: Looks and talent don't always go together, Katerina.
On Friday night in Brussels at the Memorial van Damme meet, Galen Rupp ran 10,000m in 26 minutes and 48 seconds, a personal best by 22 seconds and a new American Record by 11. Rupp's previous best had come in the same 2010 race where Chris Solinsky had become the first American to run under 27 minutes with a performance that sent shock waves through U.S. Distance Running.
In the Brussels race, just as in the 2010 race, Rupp finished third. However, this time he trailed only Kenenisa Bekele and Lucas Rotich, and he beat -- among others -- the 4th fastest man ever at 5000m, Eliud Kipchoge. Watch the video, below, and feel your pulse quicken as Rupp moves into second and pushes the pace with 1200 to go.
As the news of Rupp's AR hit the public square, or at least the message boards of LetsRun.com, there was a strange, but in some ways predictable attempt to diminish Rupp's run. One writer asserted that Solinsky's run had been more impressive; another pointed out that Rupp had never beaten Solinsky in a 10K; still others predicted that Rupp would never win a World Championship or Olympic medal.
Perhaps not, but why all the hate? Why not just keep quiet and let the record stand for itself? What is it about Rupp, in particular, that invites this churlish negativity? I think it might be something I'll call it the "Amadeus Effect."
In the film Amadeus, the composer Antonio Salieri can't reconcile the sublime genius of Mozart's music with the childish bearing of Mozart the man. Salieri, who knows his own mediocrity, takes it as a personal insult that God would bestow his gifts on someone who didn't look and act the part of a great composer.
I suspect that Rupp has a similar effect on those who, while saddled with their own mediocrity, want their running heroes to "look the part" of a great distance runner. For these people, great runners should be tough bad-asses like Steve Prefontaine... or like Chris Solinsky.
Rupp isn't like that. Rupp has always seemed more goofy than tough. The haters have always dismissed Rupp for his "privileged" athletic pedigree, his breathe-right nose strips, his pollen masks, and his generally well-adjusted demeanor. When he was beaten at Footlockers by Matt Withrow, he was derided as "the rich kid with the altitude tent and the private coach."
But -- unlike Withrow and so many others -- Rupp has gotten better and better. He won NCAA Titles in XC and Track. He won national titles. He now has American Records for 10000m outdoors and 5000m indoors. He is a legitimate medal contender for next year's Olympic Games.
The comparison with Mozart isn't exact. The implication of "Amadeus" is that Mozart didn't have to work at being great, while Rupp has worked extraordinarily hard for the last decade to be where he is. But the Salieris of the world still find it hard to accept that someone who runs 26:48 seems like a little kid with funny hair, and easy smile, and a can of grape soda in his hand.
July 23, 2011
Noah Jampol on Blade Runner:
T&FN's Daily Best Reading
The number one recommended read on the Track And Field News Web Site today is a blog post written by NNHS alum Noah Jampol arguing the case for why Oscar Pistorius should not be able to compete at the 2011 World Championships in Daegu.
Noah, a contributor to the Bleacher Report web site, is always worth reading, but this piece is one of the best I've seen on the question of whether "Blade Runner" should be competing against the best in the world at the World Championships and Olympics. Noah isn't overly distracted by the minutiae of the scientific evidence that Pistorius' prosthetics provide a biomechanical advantage over able-bodied runner, but explores why we have competitions in the first place.
I have been contemplating writing (and may yet write) an article arguing the exact opposite, but Noah's argument for banning Pistorius is compassionate without flinching from the conclusion that allowing prosthetics to compete against legs is a fundamental shift in how we think of track and field.
Noah, a contributor to the Bleacher Report web site, is always worth reading, but this piece is one of the best I've seen on the question of whether "Blade Runner" should be competing against the best in the world at the World Championships and Olympics. Noah isn't overly distracted by the minutiae of the scientific evidence that Pistorius' prosthetics provide a biomechanical advantage over able-bodied runner, but explores why we have competitions in the first place.
I have been contemplating writing (and may yet write) an article arguing the exact opposite, but Noah's argument for banning Pistorius is compassionate without flinching from the conclusion that allowing prosthetics to compete against legs is a fundamental shift in how we think of track and field.
July 19, 2011
The Seduction of Soft
Like you, I love to run on trails.
Well, actually, I love to run on trails that aren't too rocky. (I still have memories -- and scars -- from hard, injurious falls on otherwise very nice trails). I love to run on trails, unless, that is, they are so narrow that a group has to go single-file for miles on end, and even a solitary runner is constantly ducking low branches. I enjoy the ups and downs of trails, except the steep embankments where one needs to use all fours to ascend and a parachute or rope ladder to descend.
I like dirt trails, but if a trail has too much mud, I might choose to run on the roads instead. And of course, for many months of the year when trails are covered with snow, or worse, ice, I don't even consider them an option. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that I do roughly 80% of my annual running mileage on roads, 10% on a track and 10% on trails or grass.
I ponder these things after reading an article in the NY Times this morning questioning the common wisdom that running on trails is better than running on other surfaces. The folks at LetsRun.com dismiss the article outright, calling it "Bad Training Advice." You can read the article yourself, at the following link.
For Runners, Soft Ground Can Be Hard on the Body
I don't think the article is especially insightful, but it does raise an interesting question: what is the benefit of running on trails compared to a harder, more even surface? Have we all just accepted as gospel that running on soft trails is superior to road or track?
Coincidentally, a few days ago I received an email one of my Concord Academy runners. This runner is convinced that she will get injured if she runs on roads, and wants to run as much as possible on grass or trails. I find this to be a surprisingly common feeling among high school runners. In my response, I agreed that trails were very nice, but I also said that I didn't consider running on soft surfaces to be a fail-safe strategy for avoiding injuries. Specifically, I didn't think that the SOFTNESS of the surface was the most important factor. Instead, I mentioned the need for gradual adaptation to mileage, the need to strengthen the muscles of the foot and lower leg to be able to stabilize the body effectively at impact, the role of proprioception, and so on...
And I suggested that it was the UNEVEN nature of trails (not necessarily whether they were harder or softer) that made them different than roads. I thought that the uneven surface would give more variety to one's footstrike, hence, a better workout for the feet and less risk of overuse in the muscles, ligaments, and tendons of the knee and hip. (And by this same logic, runners will sometimes consider a rolling course to be slightly less stressful than a pancake flat course... but I digress.)
Of course, I couldn't prove any of this.
The other reasons to run on trails might be even more compelling. To enjoy the outdoors in a more agreeable environment, to avoid cars and exhaust, to take in the scenery, to introduce variety into one's running. These are perfectly good reasons to run on trails, even if the training effect is elusive.
And then there's the specificity of training. If one is preparing to race on soft surfaces for cross-country, it only makes sense to practice running on those surfaces. But for road runners, perhaps trails are not so necessary.
It's interesting how, when we think about running, we think that "soft" is automatically better than "hard." I remember a time when running shoes were being touted as "pillows for your feet." The impact forces of running are pretty severe; shouldn't your shoes be soft to cushion the blow? Nowadays, the trend is toward less shoe and letting the natural mechanics of the unshod foot handle the stress of landing, but it wasn't always that way.
In the end, isn't the whole question a little fatuous? We run where we like because that's where we like to run. Sometimes it's easier on the mind and body to run on trails (like now, in the summer) and sometimes it's a bear (like one winter trail run where I nearly ended my running career by spraining an already tender ankle). It's great to be able to do long runs off-road and I really enjoy the variety, but in January I get by on a restricted diet of runs on Comm Ave, I don't fall apart. There are no magic shoes to solve all our running problems or make hard training easy, and, sadly, you can still get hurt even if you run all your miles down a garden path strewn with rose petals.
Well, actually, I love to run on trails that aren't too rocky. (I still have memories -- and scars -- from hard, injurious falls on otherwise very nice trails). I love to run on trails, unless, that is, they are so narrow that a group has to go single-file for miles on end, and even a solitary runner is constantly ducking low branches. I enjoy the ups and downs of trails, except the steep embankments where one needs to use all fours to ascend and a parachute or rope ladder to descend.
I like dirt trails, but if a trail has too much mud, I might choose to run on the roads instead. And of course, for many months of the year when trails are covered with snow, or worse, ice, I don't even consider them an option. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that I do roughly 80% of my annual running mileage on roads, 10% on a track and 10% on trails or grass.
I ponder these things after reading an article in the NY Times this morning questioning the common wisdom that running on trails is better than running on other surfaces. The folks at LetsRun.com dismiss the article outright, calling it "Bad Training Advice." You can read the article yourself, at the following link.
For Runners, Soft Ground Can Be Hard on the Body
I don't think the article is especially insightful, but it does raise an interesting question: what is the benefit of running on trails compared to a harder, more even surface? Have we all just accepted as gospel that running on soft trails is superior to road or track?
Coincidentally, a few days ago I received an email one of my Concord Academy runners. This runner is convinced that she will get injured if she runs on roads, and wants to run as much as possible on grass or trails. I find this to be a surprisingly common feeling among high school runners. In my response, I agreed that trails were very nice, but I also said that I didn't consider running on soft surfaces to be a fail-safe strategy for avoiding injuries. Specifically, I didn't think that the SOFTNESS of the surface was the most important factor. Instead, I mentioned the need for gradual adaptation to mileage, the need to strengthen the muscles of the foot and lower leg to be able to stabilize the body effectively at impact, the role of proprioception, and so on...
And I suggested that it was the UNEVEN nature of trails (not necessarily whether they were harder or softer) that made them different than roads. I thought that the uneven surface would give more variety to one's footstrike, hence, a better workout for the feet and less risk of overuse in the muscles, ligaments, and tendons of the knee and hip. (And by this same logic, runners will sometimes consider a rolling course to be slightly less stressful than a pancake flat course... but I digress.)
Of course, I couldn't prove any of this.
The other reasons to run on trails might be even more compelling. To enjoy the outdoors in a more agreeable environment, to avoid cars and exhaust, to take in the scenery, to introduce variety into one's running. These are perfectly good reasons to run on trails, even if the training effect is elusive.
And then there's the specificity of training. If one is preparing to race on soft surfaces for cross-country, it only makes sense to practice running on those surfaces. But for road runners, perhaps trails are not so necessary.
It's interesting how, when we think about running, we think that "soft" is automatically better than "hard." I remember a time when running shoes were being touted as "pillows for your feet." The impact forces of running are pretty severe; shouldn't your shoes be soft to cushion the blow? Nowadays, the trend is toward less shoe and letting the natural mechanics of the unshod foot handle the stress of landing, but it wasn't always that way.
In the end, isn't the whole question a little fatuous? We run where we like because that's where we like to run. Sometimes it's easier on the mind and body to run on trails (like now, in the summer) and sometimes it's a bear (like one winter trail run where I nearly ended my running career by spraining an already tender ankle). It's great to be able to do long runs off-road and I really enjoy the variety, but in January I get by on a restricted diet of runs on Comm Ave, I don't fall apart. There are no magic shoes to solve all our running problems or make hard training easy, and, sadly, you can still get hurt even if you run all your miles down a garden path strewn with rose petals.
July 06, 2011
Training to Train
Many years ago, at a time when I had just started running for a coach who was a proponent of lots of hard interval workouts, I had a brief exchange with him that has stuck in my mind ever since.
My training partners and I had done a couple of workouts with him already. My recollection is that they weren't too tough, but they WERE structured differently than what I was used to. The volume was light, but they were quite fast. After the second such workout, I asked him about the purpose of this kind of training, and his response was: "You're doing this workout to train for the workouts to come."
Now, I don't think the details of those workouts matter that much, and I can't remember them anyway. But the concept of training to prepare for training made a lot of sense to me. I think I had always operated as if there was a direct and immediate connection between training and racing -- that this week's workout would benefit next week's race. The idea that you did such-and-such workouts to prepare for other workouts was new to me. My coach's response neatly encapsulated the idea that one could focus on one aspect of training or one physiological system as a foundation for work on other aspects and other systems. It would later resonate with my subjective experience when I was involved in periods of training when racing was the last thing on my mind and I was completely focused on surviving the crucible of a series of tough workouts.
I've been thinking about this a lot lately because like many, I'm deep into my own summer training now, and I'm focusing on building a foundation to support harder training to come. I've been really enjoying this process, without worrying about racing at all. There's something very satisfying about being able to handle harder sessions on the track or longer tempo runs and beginning to notice yourself recovering well and eager for the next round of workouts.
I think a lot of people -- a lot of athletes, a lot of coaches -- assume that summer is nothing but base mileage, and that ANY fast running is out of place. I'm not convinced this is right. While it might be of secondary importance, I think fast running has a place in base training.
Looking at the calendar, I see that there are only 19 weeks until my cross country team lines up on a cold day in November for their final meet of the season. Preparing for that final test means preparing to prepare. Do I want them running long, hard intervals in the early weeks of October? Then I need a plan for how to get them ready to handle those hard sessions. Shouldn't that plan include a gradual introduction to fast running?
I don't mean to suggest that summer speed is the most important element of such preparation. When I prioritize summer training goals for my runners, I generally stress adapting to daily running and impact stress, developing a significant aerobic base, working on core strength, and establishing habits of good nutrition and adequate sleep. I'm confident these are the most helpful for building a foundation for hard training to come.
But for my experienced runners I don't discourage fartlek runs, tempo runs, low-key races, strides, and other forms of faster running. I wouldn't even rule out some work on the track, if I were able to supervise it, which I'm not.
We tend to forget that fast running is fun and motivating. Feeling faster makes you feel more engaged and committed so that you start looking forward to more training. I think the key is doing enough to increase comfort with faster running, while holding back from any heavy servings of speed that would be more suitable later in season.
I'm fortunate that among my readers are coaches with much more experience than me. I'm curious as to whether you encourage your athletes to incorporate faster running into summer plans, or whether you steer them away from that.
My training partners and I had done a couple of workouts with him already. My recollection is that they weren't too tough, but they WERE structured differently than what I was used to. The volume was light, but they were quite fast. After the second such workout, I asked him about the purpose of this kind of training, and his response was: "You're doing this workout to train for the workouts to come."
Now, I don't think the details of those workouts matter that much, and I can't remember them anyway. But the concept of training to prepare for training made a lot of sense to me. I think I had always operated as if there was a direct and immediate connection between training and racing -- that this week's workout would benefit next week's race. The idea that you did such-and-such workouts to prepare for other workouts was new to me. My coach's response neatly encapsulated the idea that one could focus on one aspect of training or one physiological system as a foundation for work on other aspects and other systems. It would later resonate with my subjective experience when I was involved in periods of training when racing was the last thing on my mind and I was completely focused on surviving the crucible of a series of tough workouts.
I've been thinking about this a lot lately because like many, I'm deep into my own summer training now, and I'm focusing on building a foundation to support harder training to come. I've been really enjoying this process, without worrying about racing at all. There's something very satisfying about being able to handle harder sessions on the track or longer tempo runs and beginning to notice yourself recovering well and eager for the next round of workouts.
I think a lot of people -- a lot of athletes, a lot of coaches -- assume that summer is nothing but base mileage, and that ANY fast running is out of place. I'm not convinced this is right. While it might be of secondary importance, I think fast running has a place in base training.
Looking at the calendar, I see that there are only 19 weeks until my cross country team lines up on a cold day in November for their final meet of the season. Preparing for that final test means preparing to prepare. Do I want them running long, hard intervals in the early weeks of October? Then I need a plan for how to get them ready to handle those hard sessions. Shouldn't that plan include a gradual introduction to fast running?
I don't mean to suggest that summer speed is the most important element of such preparation. When I prioritize summer training goals for my runners, I generally stress adapting to daily running and impact stress, developing a significant aerobic base, working on core strength, and establishing habits of good nutrition and adequate sleep. I'm confident these are the most helpful for building a foundation for hard training to come.
But for my experienced runners I don't discourage fartlek runs, tempo runs, low-key races, strides, and other forms of faster running. I wouldn't even rule out some work on the track, if I were able to supervise it, which I'm not.
We tend to forget that fast running is fun and motivating. Feeling faster makes you feel more engaged and committed so that you start looking forward to more training. I think the key is doing enough to increase comfort with faster running, while holding back from any heavy servings of speed that would be more suitable later in season.
I'm fortunate that among my readers are coaches with much more experience than me. I'm curious as to whether you encourage your athletes to incorporate faster running into summer plans, or whether you steer them away from that.
July 04, 2011
With Gravity on His Side, Lowell's Brian Gagnon Runs 3:44 Mile
Former Lowell H.S. and UConn standout Brian Gagnon won the inaugural HASLAW Manchester Road Mile in Manchester NH Sunday, running an attention-getting time of 3:44, more than two seconds faster than Alan Webb's American Record.
Too bad it won't count. The course, which begins at Derryfield Park (site of the Manchester XC Invitational) and ends at Pulaski Park, has a net elevation drop of 188 feet. The race is organized by Millenium Running, the same outfit that directs the New Year's Day Millenium Mile, another downhill dash.
Here's the elevation profile for the Manchester Mile:
I wonder what the splits were for that first half mile... maybe Gags had his eyes on Johnny's Gray's AR in the 800, too.
According to the story posted in the Manchester Union Leader, Gagnon was one of eight men to go under 4:00. The women's winner, Julie Cully of Clinton NJ, ran 4:14, which is under Mary Slaney's American record.
Too bad it won't count. The course, which begins at Derryfield Park (site of the Manchester XC Invitational) and ends at Pulaski Park, has a net elevation drop of 188 feet. The race is organized by Millenium Running, the same outfit that directs the New Year's Day Millenium Mile, another downhill dash.
Here's the elevation profile for the Manchester Mile:
I wonder what the splits were for that first half mile... maybe Gags had his eyes on Johnny's Gray's AR in the 800, too.
According to the story posted in the Manchester Union Leader, Gagnon was one of eight men to go under 4:00. The women's winner, Julie Cully of Clinton NJ, ran 4:14, which is under Mary Slaney's American record.
June 27, 2011
USATF Men's1500 Final and its Aftermath
If you like races where runners push the pace from the start and run personal and seasonal best times, you probably HATED the men's 1500m final at the USATF Championships, Saturday. If, on the other hand, you like races full of tactics and tension that can be resolved only by a fast, furious finish, the 1500 was the race for you.
Of course, you already know that baby-faced Matt Centrowitz did the unthinkable, holding off -- no, pulling away from! -- the seemingly invincible Bernard Lagat. You know that Leo Manzano closed brilliantly, outleaning Andrew Wheating and Will Leer for third. Wheating, it must be said, didn't actually run a bad race (he had positioned himself in third with 100m to go), but he didn't fully appreciate a basic principle of tactical races: everyone is fast in a tactical race, and if you leave it to the last 100m, you better be sure you have the best acceleration. Wheating didn't, and he paid the price. By the way, watch the race video a few times and tell me how Will Leer accelerates so quickly in the last 40 meters...and how he manages not to lean at the tape, thereby losing fourth to Wheating...
So Wheating, who had skipped the 800 to focus on the 1500, finished in the worst possible position -- fourth -- but wait! Bernard Lagat, who had already made the team by winning the 5000m, announced he would not compete in the 1500m, opening up a spot on the team for Wheating.
So it's Centrowitz, Manzano, and Wheating, right?
Not so fast. None of the three qualifiers has met the "A" standard of 3:35 yet, and they have only until August 8th to do it. While I am no expert in USATF selection procedures, this opens up many possibilities.
If Centro meets the "B" standard (3:38) but not the "A" standard, then I believe he is the only guy who gets to go. If Centro meets the "A" standard, but Manzano doesn't, then I think Centro and Manzano go, and Wheating is left off the team. if Centro and Manzano get the "A" standard, then Wheating is all set, since he has already met the "B" standard.
And what if Centro doesn't get the "A" or "B" standard? I think that means the he doesn't go, and the other chase the standards. That could, conceivably, lead to Manzano, Wheating, and Leer going.
Anyway, the one thing we can be sure of is that -- unlike the championship finals -- in their next 1500m these guys will be running fast from the gun. That's the only way to ensure they can make it to Daegu for another tension-filled tactical race.
June 22, 2011
Another Myth Busted: 10% Rule Bites the Dust
I knew it!
I knew that venerable training rule that a runner should increase mileage by no more than 10% per week was bogus. In her Personal Best column, Gina Kolata of the New York Times cites one large study that finds no evidence that the 10% rule makes any difference in injury rates compared to a more rapid increase to a similar peak mileage and to a program that began with four weeks of other kinds of conditioning.
When Running Up Mileage, 10 Percent Isn’t the Cap
While one study can't be considered definitive, the fact that no one seems to know where the 10% rule came from and no one seems to have any evidence for its efficacy in preventing injuries suggests we should take the rule with a whole shaker of salt.
One of the weaknesses of the 10% solution was always that it flew in the face of two common-sense observations: first, it doesn't say anything about your starting point. If you start by running more than you can handle, you'll be in trouble no matter how gradually you increase from there. And second, you can't keep increasing forever or even for very long before you are running higher mileage than you can handle.
For example, if you run 30 miles a week and increase 10% each week, in fourteen weeks you'll be running over 100 miles a week. That can't be right!
Here's another example: I recently had to take several weeks completely off from running. When I started up again, my first seven days I ran about 15 miles. My second week, I ran about 25, a 67% increase, and that was fine for me. "But wait," you say, "that's only because you are a trained runner used to running more miles, and different rules apply..." Fair enough, but doesn't everyone bring some level of training to the game? I mean, if your baseline is 0, then 10% of that is still 0.
The math just doesn't make sense. If your baseline is a mile a day, it will take you 9 weeks to reach 2 miles every day. That's an entire cross-country season to go from one mile a day to two. Ah, but seven weeks after that you'll be running 4 miles a day. Seven weeks after THAT, you'll be running 8 miles a day, and by the end of seven months, you'll be running almost 16 miles per day, or 110 miles a week.
To continue my own example, after that 25 mile week I continued to increase my mileage, and now, fifteen weeks later, I'm running about 45 miles per week. That works out to about a 5% increase per week. Had I followed the 10% rule, I would be running 86 miles per week now, more than I've ever done in my life. So in my case, I used a fairly rapid increase in the first few weeks, followed by a much flatter curve as I approached what I believe is optimal mileage for my age and experience.
As a symbol of progression and gradualism, the 10% rule has some value, I guess. But as the article and the study it cites make clear, it's probably not something you should take too literally.
I knew that venerable training rule that a runner should increase mileage by no more than 10% per week was bogus. In her Personal Best column, Gina Kolata of the New York Times cites one large study that finds no evidence that the 10% rule makes any difference in injury rates compared to a more rapid increase to a similar peak mileage and to a program that began with four weeks of other kinds of conditioning.
When Running Up Mileage, 10 Percent Isn’t the Cap
While one study can't be considered definitive, the fact that no one seems to know where the 10% rule came from and no one seems to have any evidence for its efficacy in preventing injuries suggests we should take the rule with a whole shaker of salt.
One of the weaknesses of the 10% solution was always that it flew in the face of two common-sense observations: first, it doesn't say anything about your starting point. If you start by running more than you can handle, you'll be in trouble no matter how gradually you increase from there. And second, you can't keep increasing forever or even for very long before you are running higher mileage than you can handle.
For example, if you run 30 miles a week and increase 10% each week, in fourteen weeks you'll be running over 100 miles a week. That can't be right!
Here's another example: I recently had to take several weeks completely off from running. When I started up again, my first seven days I ran about 15 miles. My second week, I ran about 25, a 67% increase, and that was fine for me. "But wait," you say, "that's only because you are a trained runner used to running more miles, and different rules apply..." Fair enough, but doesn't everyone bring some level of training to the game? I mean, if your baseline is 0, then 10% of that is still 0.
The math just doesn't make sense. If your baseline is a mile a day, it will take you 9 weeks to reach 2 miles every day. That's an entire cross-country season to go from one mile a day to two. Ah, but seven weeks after that you'll be running 4 miles a day. Seven weeks after THAT, you'll be running 8 miles a day, and by the end of seven months, you'll be running almost 16 miles per day, or 110 miles a week.
To continue my own example, after that 25 mile week I continued to increase my mileage, and now, fifteen weeks later, I'm running about 45 miles per week. That works out to about a 5% increase per week. Had I followed the 10% rule, I would be running 86 miles per week now, more than I've ever done in my life. So in my case, I used a fairly rapid increase in the first few weeks, followed by a much flatter curve as I approached what I believe is optimal mileage for my age and experience.
As a symbol of progression and gradualism, the 10% rule has some value, I guess. But as the article and the study it cites make clear, it's probably not something you should take too literally.
June 21, 2011
US Track and Field: What Are We Good At?
The USATF Championships begin today in Eugene and continue through Sunday, with the meet serving as the selection process for the World Championships in Daegu, South Korea later in the summer.
The selection process itself is a little complicated. Athletes who won world championships in 2010 are automatically qualified for Daegu provided they compete in some event -- any event -- in Eugene. Hence, Alyson Felix, the reigning world 200m champion, is qualified for Daegu in the 200, but will run the 400 only in Eugene (and decide later whether to attempt to do both in Daegu). Trey Hardee, the reigning decathlon champ, has to compete in at least one decathlon event to punch his ticket to South Korea.
(Defending 400m champ LaShawn Merritt is in a strange position, since he is is currently serving a suspension that will keep him from running in the U.S. championships but not preclude him running in Daegu... at this point it seems it is up to USATF to decide whether to bend its rules that an athlete must compete at an event in the U.S. championships to be eligible.)
Other than those few, the top three in Eugene will go to the world champs, proving they have met the Olympic "A" standard. If they haven't, well, I won't attempt to explain what happens. If you are interested, you can read about it from the Eugene Register-Guard, which provided this handy guide:
Who Advances to Daegu?
This talk about about "A" and "B" standards always makes me think about where the U.S. is strong and where it is weak in Olympic events. You never hear anyone talk about the standards in the 100, 200, or 400. That's because the U.S. typically has dozens of athletes in those events with "A" standards. There's essentially no chance that a "B" standard athlete will finish in the top three.
But in other events, we are weak by world standards. At this moment, the U.S. men do not have a single runner who as met the "A" standard in the 1500m, and only two women have met the standard.
Where is the U.S. strongest? In the sprints. The U.S. is fairly strong in ALL running events. The lack of 1500 "A" marks is balanced somewhat by the large number of "B" standard athletes in that event. In all other running events, we have quite a few athletes with "A" or "B" marks already (and, of course, athletes who need them can chase "A" standards after the tactical U.S. championship races are behind them).
Where is the U.S. weakest? The walking events are a disaster, reflecting the dwindling popularity of walking in the U.S. and the lack of opportunities for youth athletes to compete in walking events. Surprisingly, except for the shot put, the men are weak in the throwing events. The women fare slightly better.
The most surprising weaknesses to me were the lack of U.S. women who had qualifying marks in the high jump and triple jump (no "A" or "B" marks in the women's triple! Is that a reflection of how much time NBC spends showing the triple, or the reason?)
Anyway, here are unofficial lists of qualified athletes from T&F News. Decide for yourself!
U.S. Men With WC Qualifying Marks
U.S. Women With WC Qualifying Marks
The selection process itself is a little complicated. Athletes who won world championships in 2010 are automatically qualified for Daegu provided they compete in some event -- any event -- in Eugene. Hence, Alyson Felix, the reigning world 200m champion, is qualified for Daegu in the 200, but will run the 400 only in Eugene (and decide later whether to attempt to do both in Daegu). Trey Hardee, the reigning decathlon champ, has to compete in at least one decathlon event to punch his ticket to South Korea.
(Defending 400m champ LaShawn Merritt is in a strange position, since he is is currently serving a suspension that will keep him from running in the U.S. championships but not preclude him running in Daegu... at this point it seems it is up to USATF to decide whether to bend its rules that an athlete must compete at an event in the U.S. championships to be eligible.)
Other than those few, the top three in Eugene will go to the world champs, proving they have met the Olympic "A" standard. If they haven't, well, I won't attempt to explain what happens. If you are interested, you can read about it from the Eugene Register-Guard, which provided this handy guide:
Who Advances to Daegu?
This talk about about "A" and "B" standards always makes me think about where the U.S. is strong and where it is weak in Olympic events. You never hear anyone talk about the standards in the 100, 200, or 400. That's because the U.S. typically has dozens of athletes in those events with "A" standards. There's essentially no chance that a "B" standard athlete will finish in the top three.
But in other events, we are weak by world standards. At this moment, the U.S. men do not have a single runner who as met the "A" standard in the 1500m, and only two women have met the standard.
Where is the U.S. strongest? In the sprints. The U.S. is fairly strong in ALL running events. The lack of 1500 "A" marks is balanced somewhat by the large number of "B" standard athletes in that event. In all other running events, we have quite a few athletes with "A" or "B" marks already (and, of course, athletes who need them can chase "A" standards after the tactical U.S. championship races are behind them).
Where is the U.S. weakest? The walking events are a disaster, reflecting the dwindling popularity of walking in the U.S. and the lack of opportunities for youth athletes to compete in walking events. Surprisingly, except for the shot put, the men are weak in the throwing events. The women fare slightly better.
The most surprising weaknesses to me were the lack of U.S. women who had qualifying marks in the high jump and triple jump (no "A" or "B" marks in the women's triple! Is that a reflection of how much time NBC spends showing the triple, or the reason?)
Anyway, here are unofficial lists of qualified athletes from T&F News. Decide for yourself!
U.S. Men With WC Qualifying Marks
U.S. Women With WC Qualifying Marks
June 20, 2011
Tanzania Journal - Day 9:
Lions as Role Models
Lion couple near Lake Nduto
Running Log, 1/1/11 -- 25 minutes in and around Lake Nduto Tented Camp
In late December 2010 I traveled to Tanzania with my wife and son to visit my daughter, Joni, who had lived in and outside of Arusha in 2004 and 2007 and who, at the time we visited, was working in neighboring Zambia.
I started writing about the trip several months ago, and those earlier posts can be found under the "Tanzania" label. In my last post, I described my final run of 2010 -- a 25-minute jog around the campground where Joni had met lions three years earlier. Although that was the end of my "year of running dangerously," we were only halfway through our trip...
After my final run of the year, I joined my family for dinner in an enclosed pavilion at the campground where we sat at metal tables and toasted the coming New Year with two bottles of wine. Rob had squirreled them away for the occasion, another one of his many thoughtful gestures. In spite of festive atmosphere, we had no real desire to stay up late, and instead retired early, falling asleep to the boisterous sounds of revelry from a group of German campers who continued to laugh and sing long into the night.
Waking up to the new year, we were, for once, not in a hurry to leave our camp site. We had another day of driving and game-watching ahead of us, as the plan called for us to work our way South to Lake Nduto, where we would have the luxury of staying at another tented camp.
My online sources tell me that the name "Serengeti" is taken from the Maasai word serengit, meaning endless plain. Entering the Serengeti Park from the North, we had not been aware of the breadth of the Serengeti. The terrain had instead seemed full of variation with rolling hills dotted with acacia and fever trees, and areas of low vegetation that provided habitats for a wide variety of wildlife. It was only when we left the Seronera and headed South that the real expanse of the plains opened up to us. The trees and low bush fell away, and the grassy plains stretched in every direction like an ocean.
Four of the roughly four million zebras we saw everywhere on the vast plains...
Here and there, the uniformity was broken by a large outcropping of granite called a kopje ("small head" in Afrikaans). In the Serengeti, kopjes rise out of the surrounding grasslands like islands, providing a distinctly different habitat that supports numerous birds and animals. For this reason, kopjes are a popular destination for the Safari vehicles. At one particularly magnificent kopje we were one of about a dozen Land Rovers parked to watch a leopard with her two cubs sunning themselves on a high shelf of rock.
Aside from the kopjes, the plains are home to hundreds of thousands of herbivores, huge herds of wildebeest and zebra, as well as smaller bands of Thomson gazelles and other migrants who feed on the short nutritious grass covering the land. These animals are part of the great East African migration, a seasonal movement of game over a 1200-mile route in search of water and nutrition.
At this point in our trip, we had begun to view the animals through the filter of our human values and to see them as representing human qualities. We had started identifying our favorites, and we all started taking sides in their endless everyday struggle for existence.
It was, for example, easy to root against the hyenas -- they seemed like gangs of thugs always slouching around plotting some new atrocity. Rob tried to put their behavior in context for us, but our prejudice got the better of us. So, too, it was easy to root for the elephants, those calm and imposing matriarchs and patriarchs surrounded by happy extended families, seemingly untroubled by our presence or the presence of predators.
I admit that at the beginning of the trip, I didn't have much respect for the wildebeest (or bearded gnu). Silly looking, I thought, and probably not too bright. But then I saw them running, single file in long dusty lines and I changed my mind. The wildebeest impressed me as the true endurance athletes of the Serengeti, running for days at a time with a steady distance-runner's gait, guided by the mysterious and crucial ability to find water in this dry land.
As for the lions, well, we all had different opinions about the lords of the Serengeti. Thanks to the skill of our guide, we had many opportunities to see lions "in action." Most of the time, this meant seeing them sleep. They sure did a lot of sleeping, at least while the sun was up. At Ngorongoro Crater a few days later, we would have our most impressive and bracing encounter with lions when three of them ambled slowly out of the grass and came straight toward our truck. It turned out that they only wanted to lie down in the shade of the row of Land Cruiser that had stopped by the side of the road.
And then there was the lion couple that we saw at Lake Nduto. When we first drove up, they were lying lazily on the ground, ignoring the gawkers and apparently doing nothing.
After a few minutes, the male rolled over, hauled himself to his feet, circled the female once and then mounted her. This sequence took about 30 seconds total, and did not appear to impress the female very much. In any case, both lions were soon snoozing again. Rob explained that this was typical and that it would go on all day, with the male waking up every 15 minutes, initiating copulation, and then going back to sleep.
My son -- who, by the way, had been growing a reddish, lion-like beard on the trip -- remarked that his search was over; he had found his role model.
After a full day of wildlife viewing, we were ready to rest. We drove through a dry wilderness around Lake Nduto, a maze of scrub forest with dried-up watering holes and dust everywhere. We arrived at the Lake Nduto tented camp around 5 p.m. and were grateful to get out of the Land Rover and smell the familiar charcoal smell of cooking fires. We dumped our bags in the tents, and the others went to get drinks.
I had decided to run -- to start the year off with a run before breaking my streak, so I changed into shorts and running shoes and began my usual routine of circling the perimeter of the camp. It was very dusty, and the charcoal smoke burned my throat, but I was pretty happy to be running anyway. I felt good, and felt that after 372 days, I would appreciate a day off.
Running at Lake Nduto -- the final day of the streak
When I was done running, I prepared to shower. The large, apartment-like tents at Lake Nduto were constructed with an ingenious contraption for hoisting a bucket of hot water up on a pole and then connecting it via a PVC pipe to a shower head that sprayed water down into a small shower stall within the tent. "Preparing to shower" meant telling the camp personnel in charge of heating up water, to bring a bucket to the tent and raise it up into position. Not for the first time, I felt a little uncomfortable to be the recipient of such lavish personal service, but I did enjoy my hot shower very much.
NEXT: Olduvai Gorge, Ngorongoro Crater
June 19, 2011
Lampron -- 4:05.99!!
It's safe to say that Mansfield junior Josh Lampron was not among the favorites in the boys mile at the New Balance Outdoor Nationals Saturday.
Lampron was not among the 11 H.S. boys who ran sub-4:10 at the "Dream Mile" a week ago in New York -- the race where Lukas Verzbicas broke four minutes. In fact, his best mile of the season had been a 4:15, run over a month ago at the Weston Invitational. Since then, he had competed in and won the 800 in the Division and State Championship meets, but hadn't focused on the mile.
However, on May 14 he had run a 1500m in 3:50.03 at the New Balance Twilight meet, the second fastest time in the country at that point (roughly equivalent to a 4:08 mile) and a performance that didn't get as much attention as it should have.
As the seeded heat of the mile got underway on Saturday, Lampron settled into fourth place and held that position behind better known runners such as Jantzen Oshier and Daniel Everett. With 100m to go, Lampron was still in fourth, more than half a second behind. But Lampron had another gear, and he bolted on the outside catching the others and going ahead of Oshier with about 15m to go. Oshier responded and the two runners crossed the line at almost the same time. A few moments later it was announced that Lampron had won, 4:05.99 to 4:06.00. He had covered his final lap in 58.36.
Sub-4:06 as a junior, and now we're all wondering whether he might eventually join Verzbicas in the sub-4:00 club. Amazing!
Results - Boys 1M - NB Outdoor National Championships
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